Work Text:
Jade was on her second day without her meds. Her health plan didn’t cover the medication she’d always taken — and even if it did, the prescription had expired, the doctor hadn’t answered, and an emergency appointment cost more than a week’s paycheck.
And let’s not forget she had no hookup for your weed either.
She had always been “high.” But that was what kept her working. At least. Not that anyone at Cloud 9 was exactly competent anyway.
But with nothing in her system… she felt like a phone with 1% battery and the brightness cranked up. When Cody wasn’t secretly planting weed in the gardening section, she was thinking about stealing it. They could easily split it, but they were two zombies who barely interacted—and everyone assumed they were stoned for most of their shift.
Jade had been working at the store for a while and seemed to be the only one genuinely interested in what Marcus had to say. Not that she cared — she just wasn’t sober enough not to be curious. Marcus liked that, somehow. He was starved for attention. Catching Jade folding towels in the home and bath section while launching into his theories and various ways to make sausage—or whatever she’d overheard—was the highlight of his day.
It wasn’t entirely non-consensual. She actually enjoyed listening to him talk. Sometimes, he even smuggled in drinks, ironically, even though she didn’t drink. A few weeks ago, she’d discovered he was living out of his car and, later, in some improvised setup in the store walls. Things seemed to settle before she even considered inviting him to her place for the winter. She thought about it. She never asked.
She didn’t even know if he actually found a place to stay, or, you know, anything like that—because he never talked about the pathetic parts of his life with her. It was always very surface-level and, honestly… kind of charming.
Marcus was deeply intrigued that she never shared anything about herself with him, beyond showing genuine interest in the things he mentioned. But, you know… he was like a dying plant for any drop of water he could get, and Jade gave him those drops. That was more than enough.
She even stopped caring that he constantly called her “Little Dude.” Marcus had moments of completely needy obliviousness. Seeing a woman with short hair, loose or messy clothes messed with his brain. Not maliciously—he just didn’t understand that women could be like that. Just like he called Jonah “Harvard” for his nerdy obsession with facts, he gave Jade that nickname. Over time, she got used to it and even accepted it, almost like it was a normal nickname.
Nothing Marcus did was meant to offend. Jade had just stopped trying to prove her “cisgender femininity” to him—whatever that crap meant.
“You sure about that?” he asked.
“Yes, Marcus. Absolutely sure I’m not a guy and I don’t want to be.”
He didn’t care—just confused his brain. After all, Jade had already noticed that he really—really—wouldn’t mind either way.
Speaking of misunderstandings, Jade had a “weird reputation” at the store. Everyone assumed she and Cody were always high because they were seen smoking outside work. But unlike Cody, she had a strict rule: “I don’t smoke at work.” And it was true. She never understood why nobody believed her. Jade was calm. Was that a problem?
But damn, truth be told, she totally looked like a stoner—the slouch, the way it took her a while to even react, how she genuinely took everything “chill,” or how she seemed like the only one not scared of Dina because she looked too zoned out for it… anyone would swear she’d never been sober in her life.
Well… until her meds ran out and, for some reason, she hadn’t smoked in the past two days to compensate.
Now, in the middle of a Cloud 9 shift, Jade existed purely out of stubbornness. She couldn’t call in sick, of course. But she was not at her best. The “zombie girl,” usually spaced out and stoned, was now agitated.
Sandra saw her in the produce section, face buried in cabbages and cauliflower, desperately trying to absorb chlorophyll and connect vegetables to her precious weed. Later, she almost tried to chew soap boxes. And let’s not forget when Glenn called an emergency meeting to deliver the terrible news about the pathetic health plan cuts, and Jade couldn’t stop laughing—before crying loudly.
They even suspected an overdose when she flopped to the floor and rolled around while Elias kept cleaning the food section, completely unfazed.
Her body pulsed with nervous energy. Her hands shook without warning. Sometimes she froze for minutes, staring at a price tag like it was an ancient riddle. Other times, she went on autopilot and organized fifty bags of rice by color and texture.
“You okay?” Mateo appeared, gently curious, right behind her as she threw everything back into the box to start over.
“It has to be red, orange, yellow, green…” she said, exasperated. “Analog colors. I’m doing this chromatically, stupid me. Not yellow, purple… or… blue… wait, no blue? This product has no blue. I need another sequence, one without blue…”
Mateo frowned for a few seconds, wondering if it was worth trying to help.
Of course, it wasn’t. This was Jade.
He just muttered, “Okay then,” and walked away.
By three, customers passed through an aisle where she stood, rigid as a soldier, hands at her sides, twitching slightly. Jade forced herself not to scream, her left eye twitching. Employees passed by, and for the love of God, nobody dared to ask anything.
“Hey,” Marcus’ voice appeared, holding papers. He saw her. “You okay?”
Jade looked at him. Her expression was almost comically tense.
“No.”
“Okay… you…” Marcus stepped closer slowly.
“I think I’m gonna explode,” she said, voice tense, using all her energy to stay rigid. “I feel like a ticking time bomb and at any second I’m gonna…”
“Dude, that sounds scary,” he grinned widely, hands on his hips, looking her up and down.
“Yeah. Oh my God…” Jade nearly trembled. She really did look like a ticking time bomb. Marcus’ eyes widened, almost thinking she might be an actual bomb man.
“What… what’s happening?” Marcus extended his hands.
She let out a high-pitched squeal. Funny if it weren’t tragic.
“It’s hot, hot, hot…” she repeated, looking at some point behind him, eyes nearly popping out.
“Ah… what do I do?” Marcus started pacing, looking for help. “I need water! Or ice! Or… I don’t know, a-” He reached for the shelves, trying to grab something. But they were in the canned goods aisle. “… just sardines here…”
Not knowing what else to do, he dropped the papers on a shelf and grabbed her. Not exactly a hug; more like when he lifted a heavy microwave box every day. He wrapped her torso awkwardly, also holding her stiff arms. Being visibly smaller — the “little dude” — easily lifted her off the ground.
And oddly, it worked.
She took a deep breath. Slowly, the storm inside her calmed. Her breathing was now heavy, theatrical, like she’d just learned how to breathe.
“Uh… did that help?” Marcus asked, still in the *bear hug*.
“Uh-huh,” she nodded more than she spoke.
“Cool.”
Customers passed by, looking weird. Marcus didn’t think about letting go. He just smiled and waved.
And they stayed like that for a while. Marcus was strong enough to hold her. Jade felt safe, resting her head on his neck, relaxing. She didn’t exactly smell like him—her nose wasn’t great. But since she’d stopped smoking that week, smells were coming back. If it weren’t for the med withdrawal, she might have even slept better. But that wasn’t the case.
“Marcus… you still haven’t unloaded those chairs in the furniture section like I said?” Amy appeared behind him, stopping abruptly.
“Ah… something came up,” Marcus replied, still holding Jade. He turned slowly to face Amy with her, and Jade’s legs wobbled in the air, showing he was genuinely strong enough to hold her. Everything seemed perfectly natural to him — holding Jade isn’t any different than lifting a microwave box —. he looked toward Jade, still perched on him, indicating she was secure.
“Alright…” Amy pointed at Jade. “She okay?”
Marcus looked at her, whispering in her ear: “You okay?” Making sure.
“No, not really,” she murmured, muffled on his shoulder. The proximity made Marcus shiver, uncomfortably pleasant.
“No, she’s still not okay,” he repeated diligently, as if this info was more important than Amy’s work request. Amy tightened her expression, concerned. But, well… it’s not like she didn’t deal with weird stuff every day.
“Marcus, if it’s not too much—and you too, Jade—maybe you should… you know… get back to those chairs. Jade, you can take a few minutes to rest if you want, no problem. I’ll handle things here-”
“No,” Jade grumbled. “I’m fine here.”
“Yeah…” Marcus smiled big. “Relax, Amy. I’m going. Just gonna…” He gestured toward the dude still suspended.
“Okay…” Amy spoke slowly, stepping back. “I’ll go then.”
Alright, bye, Amy,” Marcus said, smiling awkwardly, wiggling a few fingers in a half-wave while still holding Jade in both arms. “Say bye, Jade."
“Bye, Amy” Jade murmured.
Amy only managed a small, awkward smile, then turned and walked away like she’d just seen the fourth most disturbing thing of the day.
And there they were again.
“Okay… I need to do that thing with the chairs… you want me to keep holding you, or…?” Marcus asked, arm already tingling.
“Yes, please,” Jade replied quickly, muffled, almost crying.
“Okay… then I’ll carry you with me.”
He adjusted and started walking, still holding her. On the way, he pointed to the shelf where he’d dropped the papers.
“You can just… grab the paper for me?”
Jade stretched and took it effortlessly.
“Thanks a ton, Little Dude” Marcus smiled, arms numb but satisfied. “Alright. Let’s unload these chairs.”