Chapter Text
Karin had just gotten Ava to sleep when a heavy pounding erupted from the front door. The baby immediately began her crying again as the banging continued.
She wanted to rip her hair out, and Gus had a similar reaction from where he was doing dishes across the house. It was probably some salesman or one of those religious groups that wandered around the town in an attempt to recruit, but those possibilities made the situation no less frustrating.
“Gus! Karin! You need to come here NOW.” A deep voice demanded, muffled through the wall.
Lars’ voice was not what she was expecting.
Most of her anger fizzled out, melted into confusion, then froze to a mixture of worry and panic.
This could be something incredibly serious or him having another mental crisis, which counted as something incredibly serious as well. Knowing Lars, it could also just be him needing help with a task or finding something exciting. These instances were almost always resolved easily within minutes or ended with them spending a few hours together after.
These visits didn’t usually start with Lars banging on the door and her husband yelling “what the fuck?” as soon as he opened it.
She grabbed Ava and practically sprinted towards the commotion, Gus frantically exclaiming nonsense as Lars tried to explain the situation while being interrupted. Karin’s mind raced through all of the possibilities. He had injured himself, there was another doll, he found some kind of animal and was trying to convince them to keep it, he broke an incredibly valuable item—
What greeted her at the door was somehow worse than any of those things.
Her brother-in-law stood in the doorway, one of his tan button-up undershirts drenched in blood with his hands in similar condition. His eyes were wide with fear as he turned to Karin, shaking his hands up and down. Her free hand instinctively went up to her mouth as she stared in pure horror. Gus was staring at her, all wide eyes as well.
“Karin there’s a man bleeding I saw him he crashed his car and he’s bleeding everywhere he needs to go to the hospital oh my God there’s so much blood—"
“Oh my God, Lars—”
“He needs help we need to help him he needs to go to the hospital—”
Karin looked from Lars to Gus, then back to Lars. He stomped and made a whining noise in his throat, not looking at either of them. There was blood crusted under his fingernails, smeared on his cheeks, drying on the thighs of his jeans and even in his hair.
“Why are you just standing there? He’s dying I don’t know what to do, Karin, Gus, please,”
“I- I’m calling 911.” Karin swallowed, holding Ava’s head close to her shoulder as she sped to the kitchen phone. Gus looked back at her and threw his arms up. What the hell was he supposed to do? He opened his mouth to protest before Lars, impressively, tugged on his shirt sleeve. He pulled him towards the door, and there wasn’t really anything he could do to protest.
There was a figure was slumped against the cabinets in Lars’ little kitchen area. Blood pooled under him on the linoleum tiles with a trail where he had evidently been dragged through the door. The (now soaked) sweater Lars was wearing earlier that day was pressed up against a spot on the side of his abdomen. He looked blearily up at the new man that had entered the room, and Gus saw even more pouring from his nose and crusted on his face. His eyes were barely open. The slivers visible were dim and unaware.
He knelt down to check his pulse. He made a noise of protest as he rolled up his sleeve to press his thumb against his wrist, a little mmnn and pathetic attempt to pull his arm away. The man’s heart rate was scarily high and his chest rose and fell in short, gasping breaths.
Not even a man. A boy.
He was skinny with some muscle built up on his arms. Sharp cheekbones. Tall. A young face. He obviously wasn’t a kid, but he couldn’t be over 25.
“Do you know his name? Who he is, what happened, anything?” Gus turned to his brother, who was standing in the corner of his kitchen, hands covered in dried blood twisting over his lap as he rocked on the balls of his feet.
“… He had a California license plate…”
Gus gaped, looking back from the stranger to Lars. “So you just found a random guy out in the road, dragged him into our garage, tracked blood all over your kitchen, all while knowing we have a fucking newborn to take care of?” He shook his head and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable.”
“He’s dying, Gus!” Lars whined, gesturing to the man on the floor. “What was I supposed to do? Leave him there all alone? In the street in the cold? Abandon him?” The man mentioned tried to lift his arm in some kind of stop or no more gesture, but it fell back to his side before moving up a foot.
Gus stood up, his arms out and wildly moving with his words. “I don’t know! I just…” He breathed in deeply, looking up at the ceiling. He knew Lars was trying his best. He wanted to help. He wanted— no, needed— everything to be taken care of and orderly. “I don’t know.” He ran his hands over his face. It was hard to stay calm when a guy was bleeding out on the floor next to you.
He stepped outside to talk to Karin, leaving the man and Lars alone. He didn’t know what there could possibly be to talk about at that moment. A young man was terribly injured so they were going to take him to the hospital and care for him until he could get back on his feet again. End of story. The thought of the people he cared for most wanting anything other than that made him upset. It was making him quite angry, actually.
Why was everyone so okay with leaving each other like that?
Without any conscious input from his brain, he stepped over to the man and slid down on to the floor next to him. He wasn’t going to sit like this alone. Even with the blood that made him lightheaded and the metallic smell that made him nauseous. Think about how the man must have felt.
He opened his eyes a crack and looked at the figure now sitting next to him. He couldn’t see five feet in front of him and was fading in and out of consciousness, so this was the first time he could actually make out the person who dragged him away from the wreck.
With great effort, he turned his head towards Lars. Their gaze met for a few seconds before Lars looked down to his fidgeting hands. They sat in silence like this for about a minute, Lars occasionally glancing up to find the man’s hazy gaze still somewhat focused on him.
He opened and closed his mouth sometimes before finally forcing himself to speak, looking anywhere but the stranger.
“My name is Lars, and my brother Gus is the one that just came in here to check on you. I’m sorry that he yelled, he’s just… we’re just really worried. And scared. His wife Karin called 911, so there’s an ambulance on the way. You’re going to be safe.”
The man’s previously vacant eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but a choked, garbled noise escaped his throat rather than words. Lars quickly leaned forward from where he was hugging his knees and shook his head, worry etched deep in his face.
“Nono, no, please don’t do that, shhh,” He held his hands out in a universal sign of halt, still frantically shaking his head. “Please don’t talk, you’re okay. We’re going to take care of you.” Lars felt like he was talking to a young child, or more accurately, an abused animal.
The man, somewhat unsurprisingly, didn’t listen. “tkamiemyglovesogh”, he slurred, his head leaning back and face scrunching up. Lars leaned in a little closer, cocking his head.
“I’m sorry, I… I can’t understand you.”
“glvoisOFF” He started to move his arm to make a feeble attempt at pulling one of his gloves off, not even able to get a finger out.
Ohhhh.
That actually might be a problem. They were going to have to touch. A lot. The gloves the man had were a special kind Lars didn’t recognize. They had panels of skin showing cut out of the leather on the knuckles and backs of the hand. It looked very professional and cool, but this wasn’t the time to think about that at all.
Lars took a deep breath before nodding hesitantly. “Yeah, I can… I can take your gloves off. Give me your hand.” He mumbled softly as he took the covered part of his hand into his. The thin leather thankfully didn’t burn him, but it still felt uncomfortably intimate, like he was holding hands with a stranger.
He basically was, but at least there was something in between.
He struggled greatly pulling the first one off, maneuvering his hand around to ensure no skin-on-skin contact, pulling his hand away as soon as he shimmied it off his wrist. The man was probably thinking he was insane and was incredibly annoyed, but he outwardly displayed none of the negative emotions Lars thought he had.
He sat patiently as Lars pulled his left glove off and set it next to him on the floor before moving on to his right. Not that he could make much protest in his state, but he sat very still without complaint.
He eventually got the second one off and he got up to set them on his little dining room table, right on top of his blood-soaked jacket that was removed as soon as he was taken inside.
He turned back and crouched down to his level. “I’m going to try to fix up your jacket while you’re in the hospital, okay? I’ll get all the blood out and sew up that hole in the side. Is that okay?” His voice was still soft, but it now had a slight waver to it.
The man blinked at him. He would have to take that as a yes.
They stared at each other for a few more moments before the flashing lights of emergency vehicles shone in through the windows. Lars stood up and made for the door before looking back.
“Just stay there, okay? You’re going to be okay; we’re going to take care of you.” He knew he couldn’t move, but it was just a precaution.
His stare lingered before he trotted out the door to meet his family. The man closed his eyes as medical workers flooded in through the door, ready to do God knows what to him.
°❀.࿔
He woke up to bright, sterile lighting and the mixed smell of urine and chemicals.
Blink a few times. Look over.
There’s an IV in his arm. Oh, okay.
The people sitting in his room seemed to take notice of his movement. The woman looked up and said something he didn’t comprehend.
He scrambled back and reached for the gun he kept in the bedside table.
No bedside table. No gun.
Of course there’s no gun, you’re in the hospital. Idiot.
Why are you reaching for your gun?
He looked back with wide eyes and the three people sitting met his gaze with equally shocked expressions. The one on the end with a mustache looked slightly curled in on himself.
He vaguely remembered that one. He knew his face. He was also holding his white jacket, so his attention was mostly focused on him.
“I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to alarm you.” Someone said. It was coming from the woman. “My brother-in-law was the one that found you and we got you to the hospital.” The man with the mustache gave a shy little wave. Pretty out of place for the circumstances.
He remembers a little bit of it now.
Vision blurring and his face banging on the dashboard. Shards of broken windshield and windows glittering under a streetlamp. Being dragged out of the wrecked stolen car and dropped on the asphalt.
The cold floor of a small house. An unintelligible reassuring voice fading in and out. His jacket being taken away. Gloves being meticulously taken off by a soft figure.
He remained tense, but no longer with a face of alarm.
“You had a blood transfusion and your side got patched up. It’s a miracle that you’re recovering so quickly, the state we found you in was really something awful. All you have now is a broken nose and some stitches.” She sighed, bouncing the baby he just realized she was holding. “How are you feeling?”
He felt high. That’s how he was feeling. They had pumped him full of painkillers and the world felt like it was spinning. His nose still hurt like hell, but he would manage. He always did; there was no reason not to now.
He looked down at his hospital gown-clad lap. “I’m fine.” He murmured, barely audible. Looked back up to her. “Thank you for taking me in.”
The man sitting between her and the soft man with the mustache raised his eyebrows. He leaned over and whispered something and the woman, he assumed his wife, shushed him. The mustached man looked incredibly uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry about it, dear. You’re free to stay with us until you’re able to get your feet under you again.” The soft brother-in-law nodded and smiled. Her husband begrudgingly nodded. Their baby drooled on her shoulder.
He remained stone faced. “I have money to get a hotel room. I’ll stay there long enough to fix up my car. I can pay you for medical expenses and I’ll be out of here.” The husband made an odd face as the wife and brother shook their heads disapprovingly.
“No, I insist, we have a spare room that you can stay in, and you don’t need to give us a single penny.” She looked so sincere. He didn’t say anything.
“He can stay with me.” The soft man with the mustache chimed in. Everyone turned to look at him.
The wife looked from him to the soft man. “Lars, sweetheart, are you sure? Gus and I are happy to take him.” The one with the mustache was named Lars. Her husband was Gus. Lars and Gus were brothers. Okay.
Lars nodded, blue eyes flicking between the floor and the wife. “Yeah, of course. You have Ava to take care of, and—and I was the one that found him in the road. I can take him in.” The baby’s name was Ava. Also noted.
He figured he could stay with them. They didn’t seem threatening. They had a baby, for Christ’s sake. Even if they somehow were, he knew how to defend himself.
He gave a small smile and looked down. Back up at Lars. “Alright, then. That’s okay.” Lars grinned, his eyes scrunching up and cheeks brightening a little. He had to look away.
“Oh, um,” Lars was wringing his hands, looking hopefully at him. “We never got your name. I told you ours, but I don’t think you remember. That’s fine though, I understand. You were really hurt.” He was rambling, but he didn’t mind. He also had mostly figured out who everyone was.
He stayed silent, still with that small smile.
“My name is Lars, and this is my brother, Gus.” Gus gave a small wave and forced a smile. “This is his wife, Karin, and their baby Ava. She was born just a few months ago. Can you say hi to the nice man, Ava?” He turned to Karin and did a slight baby voice as Karin moved baby Ava’s arm as to make her wave. His smile widened and he huffed out a little laugh through his nose.
“What’s your name?”
He stayed silent for a few more moments.
“Driver.”
Gus leaned forward and raised his eyebrows. Lars cocked his head to the side.
“What the hell kind of name is Driver—”
“Gus!” Karin swatted her husband on the arm. “If he wants to be called Driver, we’ll call him Driver. Okay?” Gus huffed. Lars was still staring at him. Observing him. Not judging, just… observing.
An awkward silence fell over them.
“When am I getting out of here?” Driver asked in that low, quiet voice of his.
“Supposed to be tomorrow. You’re probably fine to leave now, but they wanted to keep you another night just to be safe.” Gus explained, seemingly put into place by his wife’s ministrations.
Driver really didn’t want to be in the hospital, let alone longer than what was necessary.
He looked around the room. “Can you call a nurse in here? I need to talk to them about that.”
Lars seemed to understand what he was getting at. He stood up, set Driver’s jacket on his seat, mumbled a wait here and left the room. Driver’s gaze followed him as he shut the door.
Karin laughed softly. “He’s here pretty often, he probably knows who to ask to rig the system a little.”
Lars was at the doctor often. He said nothing in response.
A few minutes passed in another fit of silence, Gus bouncing his leg, Driver chewing on the inside of his cheek, and Karin letting Ava chew on her finger.
It was hard being comfortable with Driver in the room. Karin and Gus noticed that immediately. He was tense and barely spoke. They had no reason to think he was harmful at the moment, but things felt off in the little time they had interacted so far.
Lars eventually returned with that sweet smile of his, hands fidgeting.
“They said you can be discharged tonight; they just need to check a few things.” He paused before looking down shyly. “We were going to bring you some clothes to change into tomorrow, but we don’t have them right now if you’re being let out today…”
°❀.࿔
After several discussions with the staff and a stack of paperwork later, Driver found himself in the back of Karin and Gus’ car in stiff blue scrubs. Lars sat next to him, his white jacket over his lap. He still didn’t know why he had brought it.
Driver couldn’t remember the last time he was in the back seat of a car. He couldn’t imagine being in the back seat at all, actually.
He felt stupid. He had lost so much control that he was being chauffeured around by these random people that found him bleeding on the side of the road. He was some mutt that they found and now they’re taking him home to keep him and care for him.
There was nothing good that could come out of this situation.
It was pathetic.
He needed to leave.
He couldn’t leave. He told the man next to him that he would stay with him.
Yes, he could. He could tell them that he was thankful but that he couldn’t accept their offer; stay at some cheap motel until he fixed up his car. Hell, he could even hotwire a random one from the street if he wanted to.
He didn’t want to.
All staying with them would do is make him easier to find now that he wasn’t a moving target and put all of their family in danger.
He was staying.
Driver felt sick. All of them were in danger, he was being tracked at that very moment, their whole family was going to die—
The sharp wail of a baby startled him out of his spiraling. He visibly jumped, which made Lars jump as well.
Lars had been staring at him a lot. Driver didn’t notice in this instance, but he was incredibly focused on his hands curled into fists at his sides, his clenched jaw, his mouth set in a firm line.
Karin patted Ava’s back and shushed her gently as Gus murmured that she hadn’t eaten in a few hours. Lars held his hands out and made a little grabby motion. “Here, let me hold her for a little bit.”
Karin looked behind her at the back seat with hesitation. At Driver with hesitation. He didn’t blame her.
Ava was handed back into Lars’ huge hands. She was still crying as Lars pulled her into his lap, but it quieted a little. He bounced her on his knee and wrapped a grey (scarf? blanket?) knitted article from around his neck around her.
She hiccupped and sobbed and Lars rubbed her back, whispering something to her. Driver just barely picked up that he was singing a lullaby.
She quieted down after a few minutes of sitting with him, now peacefully playing with the buttons on his shirt. Driver didn’t exactly like that she was sitting on his jacket, but it was probably destroyed anyways after everything.
Ava looked over to the new man in the car with wide eyes. Driver leaned down and smiled at her. She reached out and planted both of her little hands on his face, squishing it around. He closed his eyes and huffed out a laugh, Karin looking back at all three of them.
Ava was nodding off in Driver’s arms by the time they got home. Driver had wordlessly opened his arms halfway to the house and she easily was taken against his chest. Lars’ grey blanket was over her back as he carried her out of the car, handing her off to Karin at their front door. Lars took the little blanket back. Driver stood in his bright blue scrubs in their doorway.
Gus whisked Ava away to go feed her and put her down for a nap, leaving Karin with the two boys. She clapped her hands together, smiling at Driver.
“Well! Um, I’m sure you don’t want to wear those around all day.” He really didn’t. They felt like they were made of paper and he looked like an idiot. “You can borrow some of Gus’ clothes, I’m sure he won’t mind.”
Lars huffed next to him. “He can wear some of mine. If he wants.” He crossed his arms and stared down at the porch, kicking his feet a little. A bit of an odd display from a man his size and age.
Karin hesitantly nodded, looking between the two of them. “O-okay! If that’s what he wants, he can borrow yours.”
In all honesty, Gus’ clothes would probably fit him a little better given Lars’ size, but he still would prefer the other’s. He didn’t know how to feel about Gus yet.
He gave a single nod of his head, and Lars nodded in response, looking extremely accomplished.
His house was very small. And right next to Gus and Karin’s house.
It was better than his one-bedroom apartment in LA, at least.
Lars rambled through a quick tour of the living space, showing him where the bathroom and kitchen were, the incredibly cramped tv room, and where he slept. Some of the kitchen tiles were stained a faint pink.
While he disappeared into his room to grab Driver a pair of clothes, he took the time to look around where he would be staying for an unknown amount of time.
The most noticeable feature was that everything in the house was incredibly organized. Neat bookshelves in alphabetical order, quilts stacked on a little sofa, completely empty kitchen counter save for a teapot and coffee maker. Who even owns a teapot?
The only word that came to mind to describe it was cozy. It was incredibly odd. Driver never felt cozy.
He was inspecting the bookshelf when Lars came out of his little bedroom holding a stack of clothes. Everything in the house looked little, especially for someone Lars’ size.
He took them with a nod and was directed to the bathroom to change.
The sweater he was given hung off his shoulders and reached about his mid-thigh. The sweatpants pooled at his ankles, the drawstrings just barely keeping it around his hips, and he didn’t even know how the boxers were staying on.
It really was humiliating, but he was grateful. He never could have gotten this hospitality in LA.
Lars grinned as soon as he stepped out, biting his lip to hide a giggle. Driver smiled and looked away.
“Thank you for these.” His low, barely audible voice again.
“I’m sorry… I don’t think we wear the same size…” Lars said softly, and Driver snorted out a laugh. He shook his head.
Another awkward silence. It seemed to be common with Driver.
“Would you like your jacket back? I got it all fixed up for you.” Lars finally broke the silence. He smiled shyly, twiddling his thumbs. Driver was already picking up that his new roommate did that often.
Driver raised his eyebrows a bit and nodded. “Okay.” He hadn’t expected it to even be salvageable; let alone in the time he was recovering. How long was he in the hospital?
He returned to his room for a few seconds then walked back out with Driver’s white jacket over his arm. “It took a lot of scrubbing, but I think I got most of it out. I also sewed up the hole in the side; didn’t want you walking around with that.” He held it out for Driver to take; a light blush dusting his cheeks as always.
Driver held the jacket up to inspect it. There was no evidence of its previous condition other than a small pink splotch that you wouldn’t even notice unless you were looking for it. He turned it to the side where the huge rip was. It had been sewn up—albeit a little sloppily, clearly hand done—with light yellow thread.
Lars chewed on his bottom lip, watching Driver run his thin fingers over the stitching. The silence was worrying him something awful.
“I’m sorry if I ruined the fabric or anything, I didn’t have any white thread so I just used yellow. I thought it would match the gold on the back.” His voice had gone all quiet and shy again, but he was still smiling at him.
Driver smiled and shook his head.
“Thank you for this. Really.”
Lars smiled even wider and blushed a little. Driver absently wondered if the man was always like this, or if it was him in specific.
“Of course. Please make yourself at home, um…” He looked around the room, as if the walls could tell him what to say. “Would you like something to eat, drink, anything? There’s some leftover pasta that Karin made in the fridge I can heat up, I can make tea, coffee, water…?”
Driver nodded. “Water’s good.”
Lars nodded with much more vigor than Driver gave. “Okay! I’ll get that for you; you go ahead and sit down somewhere.” He stood awkwardly for a few seconds before adding “If you want.” He squinted his eyes shut then went over to the kitchen area, water running from the tap filling the small space.
He sat down stiffly on the lone sofa in the TV room. It had a dull floral pattern on it and several throw pillows in the seat. He chewed on the inside of his cheek until Lars returned with a glass of tap water.
Driver took it and drank in silence. Lars sat on the opposite end of the couch and bounced his leg.
Neither of them spoke for a while.
°❀.࿔
Everyone at the dinner table was staring at him.
He looked down at his empty plate, then to everyone else’s, which were all at least half full.
He hadn’t even heard their idle chatter or the clinking of utensils on plates. He wolfed down the pork chops and green beans Karin made like it was the last meal he would have in months.
She blinked. “Here, I’ll get you some more.” She stood up and walked over to where he was sitting, leaning over him to grab his plate and taking it to the kitchen. He nodded and mumbled a thanks.
“So, what do you do for work?” Gus asked, wiping his hands on a napkin.
“Cars. I drive.”
“Like a taxi driver?”
“I do stunts for movies.”
Lars raised his eyebrows. “Wow. That’s… That’s really cool.” He smiled wide, his cheeks turning that rosy pink again. Driver smiled as well.
“Your car had a California license plate.” He continued. “What are you doing all the way in Minnesota?”
Driver looked down and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know how to answer that one yet.
Karin thankfully returned with his food at that time.
“You don’t have to worry about food here, okay? Eat as much as you want.” She looked at him with such pity. It made him feel sick.
He went on eating in silence, the question hanging unanswered in the air around them.
°❀.࿔
There was no way someone Lars’ size was going to sleep comfortably on the tiny sofa he had in the TV room.
He was insisting on it anyways.
“You just got out of the hospital! I don’t want you to sleep on the couch. You should sleep in the bed. You’re the guest.” He actually seemed pretty set on this.
Driver was already suspecting Lars had something.
“Really, it’s fine. I don’t mind it. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Lars knitted his eyebrows together at Driver’s refusal. He looked down, kicking at the floor again.
“Would it make you feel better if we both slept in the bed?”
Silence.
Lars nodded.
Driver was in another man’s bed for the first time in a while. Nothing he hadn’t done before, but never in this context.
Lars was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and flannel bottoms, while Driver was in an oversized t-shirt and the equally oversized boxers from earlier.
The larger man beside him tossed and turned for a while before he eventually fell asleep. He occasionally grazed Driver’s leg or back, and he tensed so hard he nearly jumped before making distance between them. Driver said nothing of it.
He stayed facing away from Lars, staring at the wall. He was awake long after he heard soft snoring from the body next to him.
It felt oddly comfortable. He was laying in bed with a man he met that day without any prior sexual encounter and he felt safe enough to relax his shoulders and unclench his jaw.
He even felt safe enough to let gentle snoring lull him into the best sleep he had in years.
°❀.࿔
Driver woke up a few hours after Lars did.
He walked into the kitchen to find toast and a cup of coffee waiting on him with Lars apologizing because he didn’t know if Driver liked coffee. He easily drank two cups.
Lars drove them to the mall with Driver in the passenger seat, Lars humming along to a Beatles song on the radio while Driver smiled.
Driver picked out some clothes that actually fit his body and paid for them himself despite Lars insisting that he should. Driver was shocked by the fact that Lars didn’t have his own mobile phone.
On the way home, Driver determined that Lars was okay. He liked Lars.
Lars, at about the same time, decided that he quite enjoyed having Driver around.