Chapter Text
Wayne wipes his forehead with his arm to get rid of the sweat. He undoes his cuffs and pulls them towards his elbows and he even unbuttons the first two buttons of his shirt. He gets back to chorin’ since the chicken coop ain’t gonna build itself. Darry’s milking the cows close by, bucket after bucket. Wayne always loved the smell of fresh milk and if you wanna smell it, the best way is to get near Darry. Now, Wayne would never say that to Darry, but he thinks Darry’s the best guy in the business on account of his sweet words. He’s like a fucking cow whisperer.
It’s too damn hot, but it’s not proper to work with no shirt on, so Wayne unbuttons his shirt just a bit more and pulls his sleeves as high as they go.
‘’You doin’ this for me, bud?’’ Darry says with a shit-eating grin on his face.
‘’Sort yourself out,’’ Wayne replies without much conviction.
He wants to finish building the coop as soon as he can so he can finally put the chickens where they belong without being scared of them getting eaten by coyotes. The chickens are sharing the cows’ space now, have been for a couple of days, and the cows aren’t getting used to it. They get agitated and loud, that is until Darry shows up, because of course the cows are on their best behavior when Darry’s there. Never mind that Wayne cares about them and is gentle. He doesn’t have Darry’s magic hands to soothe the animals.
‘’Hey, Wayne?’’ Darry’s taking a break and leans on what Wayne’s already built.
Wayne hums to show he’s listening, but he doesn’t stop working.
‘’Tomato’s a fruit, right?’’
Wayne nods. Darry continues, ‘’Then how come ketchup’s not jam? I feel like ketchup should be tomato jam. It’s a fruit. Fruit makes jam.’’
Wayne stops working and stiffly stands straight.
‘’It’s not the same consistency, Darry. It’s not the same ingredients. There are three ingredients in ketchup,’’ he raises his pinky finger, ‘’one, tomatoes,’’ he raises his ring finger, ‘’two, sugar.’’
‘’There’s fruit n’ sugar in jam,’’ Darry interrupts.
‘’Okay Darry. Darry, okay. But the third ingredient is,’’ he raises his middle finger along with the previous two fingers, ‘’vinegar. You put vinegar in your jams, Darry? You’d put vinegar in a silky, gelatinous fruity goodness and spread it on your toasts in the morning, right after your yoghurt?’’
Darry says nothing. It’s not like Darry to not answer, though, and he’s got a weird look on his face. Wayne raises an eyebrow at him.
‘’Water,’’ Darry manages to say right before he falls to the ground, unconscious. It’s not the first time Darry has gotten hurt in front of Wayne, yet the panic stays the same. Wayne runs to Darry and is about to wake him up when he sees the blood on Darry’s hair. Wayne touches it, as if to make sure his best bud is actually injured. He still tries to shout Darry’s name, just in case. Darry stays silent.
Wayne picks him up bridal style and runs to the truck, puts Daryl in the passenger seat and drives as fast as he can without being a danger on the road until he gets to the hospital. He yells to get someone’s attention, anyone’s, because Darry’s limp in his arms and fuck is he scared. When a doctor asks him what happened to Darry, his mind is sharp; the adrenaline makes his mind clear. He tells the doctor Darry fainted due to the heat and hit his head on the corner of a block of wood. Wood corners are rough and full of nails and Wayne is sure as God’s got sandals that if Darry hit a nail he’s gonna scream.
They put Darry on a stretcher. Wayne’s felt powerless before, when his parents died in that car crash and both he and Katy were crying on their parents’ bed or when Darry’s mom died of her own hand and Wayne knew that Darry didn’t believe him when he said it wasn’t Darry’s fault. The helplessness hits him now, too, as he sees Darry on that stretcher. When a nurse asks him who he is in relation to Darry, he blurts out, ‘’Husband.’’
It’s a good thing he did, because he’s allowed to follow them and make sure Darry isn’t alone. Besides, they would’ve known he was lying if he had said they were brothers. They look nothing alike, they don’t have the same last name and Darry’s file sure as shit doesn’t mention a next of kin. They might not live together, but Darry’s mail comes to Wayne’s house since Darry’s trailer doesn’t have a proper address. They don’t have rings, of course, but they could have taken them off to work on the farm.
The doctors take care of Darry; Wayne doesn’t see how and he’s even more anxious because he can’t smoke, but half an hour later they tell him Darry’s gonna be fine. He has a concussion, though, and should take it easy the next couple of days. The doctor asks Wayne if he will take care of Darry. Wayne doesn’t hesitate when he says yes.
The doctor — Ortiz, according to her tag — goes on, ‘’We told him his husband brought him in. For a moment, he didn’t seem to remember he was married, but then he asked for you by name. That’s a good sign. Still, be attentive to things he might have forgotten so you can let us know when he visits us for a check-up in a week.’’
Wayne nods. He calls Katy with the news, then enters Darry’s room. Darry has a bandage over his head and he looks pale. Otherwise, it’s still Darry, with the same doe eyes and wide smile with a scarred lip.
‘’Hey, there, super chief,’’ Wayne greets him.
‘’My husband, the apple of my eye,’’ Darry says with a huge grin.
Wayne squints at Darry. That doesn’t stop Darry from smiling. Wayne takes the chair in the corner of the room and brings it close to the bed before he sits in it.
Darry hasn’t said his last word, though, ‘’How did you propose? Did we get married at the Ag Hall with the skids DJ-ing?’’
‘’Why’d you assume I’d be the one to propose?’’ Wayne shoots back.
‘’’Cause you called me your husband,’’ Darry giggles.
Wayne gets serious, ’’Wasn’t gonna leave you alone, Darry.’’
‘’Thanks, bud. I mean it.’’
‘’Ready to go home?’’
‘’Pitter Patter.’’
Wayne stays close to Darry as they walk to the car even though Darry says he’s fine and doesn’t need any help. Wayne remembers how fast Darry fell, though. Remembers the crack of Darry’s head against the wood, remembers when he saw and touched the blood on Darry’s head. And he stays close.
Wayne drives to the farm. Darry seems tired. So is Wayne, now that the adrenaline is gone. They leave each other be as of a mutual accord. On the way, they stop at the pharmacy to get Darry’s pills.
When Wayne stops the truck in front of his house, Darry comes to, confused.
‘’What are we doin’ here?’’ Darry wonders aloud.
‘’We’re at the farm, Darry.’’
‘’I know that, chief. I’m askin' why you’re not bringin’ me to my trailer.’’
Wayne lets out a sigh of relief. For a second, he thought Darry had forgotten about the farm altogether. That would not be a good sign.
‘’Doctor says you should take it easy for a while. I’m gonna take care of ya,’’ Wayne explains.
‘’That’s 10-ply, bud,’’ Darry smiles.
Wayne gets out of the truck, closes the door, lights a dart and leans on the open window so he can properly see Darry. He takes a drag and exhales.
‘’It’s almost not worth thinkin’ about,’’ he says. Because, if he’s honest with himself, he’s always 10-ply when it comes to Darry. He’s good at hiding it. It wouldn’t be proper to be soft with your best bud for no reason, but fuck, when the light catches Darry’s blond curls and he smiles at him with that childish smile of his and looks at him with those blue eyes, he almost wants to tell Darry he never understood why girls didn’t pursue him more often. That’s about as far as Wayne can go before getting uneasy and refusing to dwell on it any further. Except that he thinks a lot about that time Squirrelly Dan said, ‘’Professor Tricia says sexualitys is fluid and more of a spectrums than a definite thing and that labels cans be confusing for some peoples.’’ And the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks it’s true. Fuck a duck.