Chapter Text
Smoker is tired.
He's been driving for hours now, only stopping when the sun rises to give himself some much-needed rest. It's coming up on noon now, and the sun bears down heavy on the road. He's still plenty of hours away from home and running out of cigarettes, but he'll be damned if he stops at one of the shady motels around here alone. He's a large man, but he's not stupid.
It's not the first time he's taken this route going back home from Hina's. She tells him he'd be better off flying, he tells her it'd do her good to move back home.
He catches sight of someone walking along the wrong side of the road, seemingly stopping under the underpass he's headed towards. The shade must feel good. Smoker doesn't blame them in the slightest.
Getting closer, Smoker still can't tell what the person is. They're decently tall, a bit shorter than him, tanned and lanky. There's something in their walk, a slight limp, that makes him hesitate for a second. He slows the truck and pulls off to the side of the road just a bit past the overpass, waiting to see if they'll come closer. Smoker feels like he's baiting a wild animal.
But it works, the person coming to the passenger side. They stay a fair bit away from the window, like they're fearful that Smoker will reach out and grab them. Smoker leans over the seat to roll the window down and yells out to them.
"You okay, kid? Need a ride?" Now that he's closer, Smoker can get a better look at them. He thinks they're a boy, though he's not sure. Their grown-out hair and gentle features make them androgynous in the face, but their body (what Smoker can tell of it from under the baggy clothes, anyways) looks male. Their shorts do nothing to hide the scrapes and bruises on their knees, but their arms are covered with a button-up over an ill-fitting band shirt.
They look at Smoker suspiciously, but step towards the truck nonetheless. Their thick brows furrow like they're weighing their options, glancing around the cab of the truck. After a minute, they make their decision and open the door, hopping in without a word.
"Got anywhere in mind?" Smoker starts to pull back onto the road, heading the way he was going before. "Don't mind takin' you anywhere. Just tell me if I need to turn around."
The kid looks out the window, then looks back to Smoker. They seem out of it. The heat must have gone to their head.
"Anywhere but here." They reply, voice shaking ever so slightly. It's none of Smoker's business to ask what's wrong.
"You got a name?" Smoker raises a brow, but keeps his eyes on the road. His first act of business is getting the kid something to eat, so he sets his sights on a diner he's stopped at before passing through.
The younger hesitates, fidgeting with the bottom of their shirt before speaking. They're anxious about something, and it's not just being in a stranger's truck. The kid's clearly never learned "stranger danger".
" 'm Ace. I live in town, you don't have to take me back there, I just wanna go anywhere else." There's a boyish quality to their voice. Smoker thinks he wouldn't be wrong in assuming Ace is a guy.
"What's got you runnin' away from home, Ace? Pretty damn hot out for a boy like you to be walking this far." Smoker taps his fingers against the steering wheel, not expecting much of a reply.
"…I got in a fight with my brother. I can't go back there. I've been out since last night." He hesitates again, something he seems to do a lot, like he's calculating every piece of information he gives to Smoker. In that case, he's a smart boy.
Smoker hums. Getting Ace something to eat is probably a good idea, considering he probably hasn't had dinner or breakfast. He decides he'll get Ace a bite to eat, then see where they'll go from there. Maybe him and his brother can talk it out.
—
Smoker comes to find that Ace's stomach is much bigger than his own. The boy is half his size physically, but ended up eating twice his portion size. He'd hardly been able to get Ace to hold a conversation, the younger not looking up from his plate once.
He had to finish eating at some point though, and there was Smoker's opportunity.
“So tell me, kid,” Smoker clears his throat, “What did you and your brothers fight about that made you leave? Looks like you walked pretty far.”
Ace grumbles, taking a long drink of the sweet tea he’d gotten a refill of at least three times now. “That bad?” Smoker asks. Ace does not respond.
Ace was quiet, still sipping on his tea. The kid was scrawny, Smoker wondered if he’d had anything before this. Evidently not. But maybe it was better not to eat, because there was nothing to puke up. Something about his body language made Smoker suspect something was up.
“They touch you?” Smoker isn't sure why he asked.
Ace shrugs, wiping what Smoker now realizes is a tear with his greasy thumb.
Smoker takes that as a yes, and takes a sip of his own drink. He'd like to think he's a good person. He should help Ace, get him out of his predicament. Who knows how long Ace has been in it.
He excuses himself to the bathroom, half-expecting Ace to run off while he's in there. Gripping the sink, Smoker weighs his options. There really is no con in taking Ace with him, save for if his brothers report him missing. He doesn't know them well enough to say for sure, but he'd rather not press Ace on it right now. The kid seemed shaken up enough just thinking about it.
He hardly even knows Ace, but he wants to see him happy. Consider it his good deed for the day.
Ace is still there when Smoker leaves the bathroom, poking at the melting ice in his glass with his straw. He looks back up at Smoker when the older sits down and tries to put his composed front back up.
"You're paying, right? I don't have any money on me, maybe five bucks, but if you want i can pay you back however y-" Smoker cuts him off with a small wave of his hand, trying hard to not think of the implications of Ace's offer. He's here to help Ace, not use him.
"Got you covered. Don't worry about it." He turns to look for their server, but it's partially to avoid looking Ace in the eye. "You said you don't wanna go home, right? You wanna come with me?"
Ace is silent for a minute, the only sound coming from his direction being the clinking of him toying with his silverware.
"…You mean, like, home with you?"
Smoker grunts in response, only worried he's scared Ace further.
"Doesn't have to be permanent. We can get you away from here, get you a job, get you set up somewhere else. Wouldn't have to worry about your brothers at all up there."
"Up there?"
"Connecticut. You don't gotta, I know I'm a stranger 'n all. But you're in a bad situation, and I want to-" He turns back to a fidgeting Ace, who seems both eager and nervous at the suggestion of getting out. Smoker clears his throat, realizing that he may have jumped the gun here. "I wanna help you."
"You sure they won't find me?" Ace's head is tilted down, but he looks at Smoker through full, dark lashes. Smoker feels weak looking at him.
Smoker hums, not wanting to discourage Ace with any notion that they possibly could find him. "I'll try my damn hardest to make sure of it. You're an adult, ain'tcha? Not like they can do anything about it."
Ace falls silent again. Not used to being treated like a person. After a beat, he nods, body language still hesitant but his eyes glitter with excitement. That's enough confirmation for Smoker.
Smoker finally waves down the server, and the two leave in silence. Smoker's not sure of what else to say, and Ace doesn't seem to have any other questions. It's only a half-hour into the drive when he speaks up, though, near mumbling. He tells Smoker he doesn't have any spare clothes. Going back to his house to grab them is obviously out of the question, but Smoker isn't too opposed to buying him new ones. He did say he was going to get ace a fresh start, didn't he? They'll start here.
—
They stop at a department store a town over, somewhere to get Ace a change of clothes and a bag. He picks out a pair of jeans and another baggy shirt, and a pair of basketball shorts to sleep in. He seems hesitant to spend Smoker's money at all, turning down the older's offer to buy him a new pair of shoes despite his current pair bordering on falling apart. The white rubber is stained with flecks of red, something Smoker doesn't read too hard into. He doesn't ask either, trying to maintain the trust Ace has put into him.
As the day starts to draw to a close, Smoker insists on getting the two a motel for the night. They're only really a few hours in to the drive, but after Ace eased into allowing Smoker to get him nice new things, his appetite for spending money turned out to be as big as his appetite for food. Smoker's glad he's not struggling, or else both of them might have been down on their luck.
The sun is setting by the time they reach their next stop, Smoker pulling into the first place with a vacancy light he sees. The outside is nice enough, only a small bit of moss growing on the paneling. Ace stays in the truck while Smoker goes to the office, telling the clerk he and his 'friend' need a bed each. Trying to avoid any embarrassment for Ace, who already seemed scared enough of getting help at first. Smoker really doubts he'd want to share a bed with a stranger.
Ace falls right into bed when they make it to the room, tossing his bag(s, the backpack Smoker bought for him at their first stop clearly wasn't big enough) right onto the floor. He sighs like he's comfortable for the first time in his life.
"Thank you, um…" Ace pauses. "…You never told me your name." He looks up at Smoker from the bed, and Smoker turns away, swatting away the brief thought of how natural it feels to see Ace at this angle. He's just happy that Ace is happy.
"Smoker." He sheds his jacket and tosses it on the lone chair across from the beds. Ace snickers. Smoker thinks about how Hina did the same when she gave him the nickname, and the way she would laugh about it every time until it started to feel natural. The way Ace laughs doesn't seem to be judgemental, though. Smoker is grateful for that.
When Ace is done giggling about it, his voice turns soft. "I get what it's like to not use your, um… Real name. I think it suits you."
Smoker grumbles something about Ace hardly knowing him, which Ace retorts with pointing out the cigarette cartons that littered the floorboard of Smoker's ranger. They fall into this banter easy, and it's past midnight by the time the two settle in for sleep.
When Ace changes into the shorts Smoker bought, Smoker averts his eyes from the scars littering the boy's thighs. Some healed, some fresher, he can't help but want to bandage Ace up regardless.
Smoker doesn't even bother to set the alarm clock for the morning. The next few days would be long, but Smoker's first priority is letting Ace get his well-deserved rest.