Mutual Recovery (Depressed!Dave x Depressed!Reader) [ONE SHOT]

Mutual Recovery

"Hey, hey, small child, hey, hey, hey," the blonde pestered you relentlessly. His neck crained his skull off his bed and his foot hit your knee repeatedly. He turned his phone around, showing you a meme. Deus vult.

"Dave, I am literally two inches shorter than you." After looking at the meme and turning back to your phone he pulled his away from your face. His feet remained on your lap. His thumb flung itself across the screen of his phone as he resumed scrolling.

"I'm calling you small because you have no muscle on your twink-ass bod."

"Dave shut your fuck before I shove my foot so far up your ass the your mouth so you can get a taste of the shit we have to deal with." 

"Do you need a pad for you man-stral cycle? I'm sure bro has one around here somewhere."

And so the banter continued. It was lighthearted and calm despite how violent the words could have been misinterpreted. Who was this Dave kid? He was a good friend of yours. The kind of friend you can send memes to each other at two am and get one in response. He was the kind of friend who would ride around on the back of a shopping cart stating he was "the king apple" of the parking lot. He was, simply put, a walking meme.

It was a shame he didn't smile that much. His teeth were as white as Canada and his eyes were as bright as a Coca-Cola can on fire. His personality was that bright too, fire and irony. 

You flipped onto Dave's social media pages and scrolled through a few of the memes on his page. It was no surprise to know that he was among the most loved meme page leaders of the century. Most were light-hearted memes. Deus vult, Donald Trump being photo-shopped into a drag queen, and human apes trying to do a back-flip on a skateboard and face planting into the cement. Some of the text posts were funny enough to make you smile, and he looked up at you with every soft noise like that you made. To him, it was the sound of progress in his dear friend.

Although, one of them had you a bit concerned. When you glanced down at the blonde, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he fumbled on Snapchat, he looked like his normal self. His arms were littered with scars from swordfighting and childhood mishaps. He was rather lean still, but his grip could probably rip a horn out of the skull of a bull.

You double tapped the meme, one of those look-from-your-charger-port-to-see-the-message" sort of games. "I want to die and it's not even a joke anymore."

"Lmao same."

You glanced at him again out of the corner of your eye. He was still fucking with whatever it was he was doing. You couldn't tell, his phone was faced away from you. His feet switched from left-over-right to right-over left as he stretched. Blonde hair led down to ashy shades, to scarred skin, to the shirt of a music disk he never left behind, to jeans, to his socks that were made to look like crocs.

A few seconds later, you got the notification that someone replied to your comment. Not in the average sense, but in the way it was screenshot-ed and then sent into the chat you and him had together.

"Suicide pact?"

You smiled a little. It wasn't the actual smile you wanted to show him. It didn't reach your eyes. You had almost been hoping Dave wouldn't notice your comment had so much more meaning to it. 

"Nah, mutual existential dread works." 

He let out a small exhale and a meek smirk from what you could see.

"You don't look all that well. When was the last time you've eaten?"  he messaged you.

"If there was a shrugging emoji I'd have used it."

"You're full of shit and I'm expecting an answer."

Out of the corner of your eye you could tell he was watched you from under his shades. His scarlet irises just barely shown from underneath his void-colored glasses. 

"Maybe yesterday morning idfk why would I keep track."

His phone lowered a bit towards his chest before in inhaled. "BRO WE'RE ORDERING PIZZA."

Bro walked past the closed door and slipped a piece of paper underneath with a thumbs up and a condom taped to it. What the fuck.

"When was the last time you've had a legitimate meal, __?"

"Same question goes to you, Dave."

"I eat take-out, pizza, and restaurant shit daily. I mean when was the last time you've eaten more than a piece of bread and a sleeping pill."

"Wow that was violent."

He sat up without putting pressure on your legs, despite that is where most of his leverage would have come from. One hand, his phone hand, had propped him up as he looked at you through his shades. It wasn't hard to know he was looking at you. You can easily feel the burn on your face from both his gaze and your embarrassment of being studied by someone. 

"I don't remember, okay?"

"__ I dragged you out of your house because you were going to rot away had I not brought you here. You were ignoring me for nearly a week, not a single meme or message out of you. You're usually so talkative and you expect me not to realize you dropped off the face of the Earth?"

"I was tired, okay," you said, giving a generic excuse. He grabbed your wrist firmly and pulled them so you could touch his chest.

"When was the last time you saw another humans face, let alone hugged someone?"

"I don't know, okay?"

"Have you taken your meds?"

"Check."

"Drank something in the past hour?"

"Check."

"Eaten in the past four hours?"

You paused before reluctantly answering.

"Slept for more than twenty minutes in a bed in the last day."

You answered again.

"Listen, __, I will continue to check in on you if you let me. Please, for fucks sake, let me help you?"

He leaned closer to you, letting go of your hands. You kept them around his shoulders and pulled yourself closer. 

"I know you're just now getting your medication worked out. I know you're deeply unhappy and I know I am too. But for fucks sake let me help you better yourself. I know I can't force you but I absolutely will do my best if you'll let me."

You nodded your head. He pulled you into his chest and ruffled your hair softly. 

"Okay?"

"Okay."

You repeated the same questions he had asked you, back to him. He answered his honestly. You ate pizza, drank apple juice boxes, and fell asleep back to back pressed against each other. His bare back pressed against yours and his steady, even breathe was incredibly calming.

It was going to be a difficult recovery for both of you. With all the deaths, with all the hardships, at least you had one-another to keep each-other company and protect.