Not Long At All

Chapter Eleven

Sarah's POV:

      "Here. Just sit here." 

      I struggled under his weight, acting as his human crutch, and led him to the couch. David's arm was around my shoulders and, after an awkward contortion of our bodies, he finally fell back onto the couch. 

      I half-ran to the kitchen, checking his freezer for some sort of ice pack. I settled for a bag of frozen peas when I realized I wasn't going to find one. Making my way back over to him, I began worrying about the damage. I'd seen the fall and the most likely scenario was that it was broken. 

      I sat crisscross at his feet and rolled up the leg of his jeans, trying to keep my face neutral. Not that it would have mattered- his head was leaned back and his were fixed on the ceiling, chest heavily rising and falling. I pressed the icy bag against the swelling, looking up when he gave a small grunt of pain. I watched the steady clench of his jaw and wondered whether Jareth had been this good at handling pain. For some reason I doubted it, David had a much more grounded personality than the glitter lover I had known.

      I bit the corner of my lip, "I think you might need a doctor for this."

      I glanced back up and caught him rolling his eyes. Defensive, I straightened slightly, "What? I'm just trying to help."

      His eye stayed where they were, "I don't have money for that."

      I looked back to his ankle, "Maybe it'll get better."

      He still seemed stuck on my other comment, "How'd you hurt yourself David? Oh you know, just jumping off the second floor of an asylum. Oh no kidding."

      My pity dissolved and I grabbed my pajama pants from the couch, using them to tie the bag to his ankle, "Do you have bandages or anything?"

      David lifted his head, "Yeah, I can get them."

      Incredulously, he actually began pushing himself off the couch before I stood, shoving him back, "No! What makes you think you can walk like this?"

      His attitude was equally as strong, "You don't even know where they are."

      "Then just tell me." I placed my hands on my hips, "I've had to find harder things before."

      David cocked his head sideways, "Well good for you, but I'm not asking you to find anything."

      I crossed my arms, my voice turning sweet, "Oh I get it. You're one of those people who, when you're sick, don't let anyone help them. It makes so much more sense now."

      His jaw clenched, and I could see I was hitting a nerve. He dismissed it with a roll of his shoulders, "Just because problems come up, doesn't mean I can't do things for myself."

      On one hand, I could just raid through his place until I found him. But that might do more hurt than help, and I needed him completely on my side. I crossed my arms, if he wanted to play chicken then that was fine by me.  

      "Okay." I stepped to the side, daring him to get up.

       David's face dropped for an instance as he realized the weight of my words. It was either his pride or his ankle, and he knew it. There was a hesitation, a debate of his options, before he slowly pushed himself up. I watched him gingerly take a step, drawing his foot back when he realized it was too much. I let him stand there for a minute or so, giving him time to figure out that he was stuck, "Are you done yet?"

      He pushed his jaw to the side, not meeting my eyes. I nodded, letting the hardness ebb from my voice, "Get yourself back on the couch and tell me where to look."