darker_london | Help (Damon, Joe)

Damon didn't know how he was supposed to act. Jordan had been Julian's mother, but she had come to mean more to Damon than his own. His mother wasn't a terrible person, but she hadn't stopped Damon's father from being an arsehole to Damon either. He liked his Mum, and hated his father. And when his half-sister, Hannah had died, he hadn't felt much of anything. They hadn't been close. This time, he felt it. Jaida was more a sister to him than Hannah had been, even at thirteen months. And some man had cut her head off and erased her existence in seconds. Should he cry? Should he scream? Should he lock himself in his room with Aislinn like Julian had? That one he couldn't do because Julian wouldn't let him in.

Damon did the only thing he could possibly think to do. He went to see Joe. Even though Joe would be suffering too, Joe was his father. Joe would help him.

Damon inched into Joe's hospital room because the gloom that filled the area was both stagnant and palpable. He raised his hand in silent greeting to Lavinia, who exited the room quickly without Damon having to ask. Lavinia was cool like that. And then Joe looked up at him and Damon was afraid for him. There was more sadness in Joe's eyes than Damon had ever seen before in all his years. And it was little wonder. Still, Joe took a breath and he said gently, "hello, Damon."

Those words were enough. Damon knew he was welcome. He walked slowly to the chair Lavinia had vacated and he took a seat, nervously twisting his hands in his lap. "Julian's at home." Now that he was here, he didn't know entirely what he should say.

"Has he eaten?" Joe asked, his face shadowed.

"Have you eaten?" Damon countered, short and to the point like he always as.

"Ah. Good point." Joe looked down at his hands, his expression making it evident he was barely holding it together and he had been since yesterday.

Damon sniffed and he glanced out the window at the fair day that seemed to be mocking their pain. It should be storming. Cold, windy, rainy...anything but this. The world should mourn for Jordan and Jaida. "I came to see you." Joe only nodded, so Damon continued. "I don't know...what to do..."

Instead of lashing out at Damon that it wasn't his problem, like someone else might have, Joe reached his hand out and Damon took it. "None of us does, Damon."

"You're not going to get sick again, are you?" There was an edge to Damon's voice which demanded that Joe not get sick again because Damon couldn't lose both his parents.

"I don't know." Joe sighed, but then he squeezed Damon's hand weakly. "I'll try. Not to."

"Good." Damon nodded and he ran out of words again. There were no words, really. There was nothing he could say to fix it. But Joe had said no one knew how to act, so maybe he wasn't alone.

"Damon, I'm glad you came." Joe didn't smile, but he did mean it. Damon could tell.

"Maybe that's what I can do. Be here for you. Is that good?" Damon wanted to be good, because the Littletons had been so good to him.

Joe's face softened and his grip on Damon's hand tightened. "Yes, Damon. That's good."