Chapter 6: Geborgenheit

(German) To feel completely safe; like nothing could ever harm you. Usually connected to a particular place or person.

Dallas sleeps for almost three days straight. Luck doesn't bother him while he's sleeping, and every once and a while he gets up to go to the bathroom or get a drink, and then he's right back to sleeping again. Luck figures that he probably hasn't been getting a lot of sleep recently, so all he does is make sure that he's as comfortable as possible.

On the fifth day of Dallas being in Luck's apartment, he finally wakes up. He stumbles into the kitchen where Luck's making a salad for himself, and Luck turns to acknowledge him.

"Hey. Feeling better?" Dallas nods and sits down at the table, rubbing at his eyes. He looks a little better, but not the best he's ever been, obviously. His cuts and bruises and sores are still very visible, and he flinches every once and a while. After a few moments of silence, he finally says,

"I'm being fucking stupid. I—I need to go back, to apologize, to somethin'." He starts to get up, but Luck's at his side in a second, gently grasping his wrist.

"No," he says firmly. "No, you're not being stupid. You don't need to go back, and you certainly don't need to apologize."

"Yes, I am!" Dallas snaps back, yanking his wrist away. He flinches after he does it, like he expects Luck to hit him, but upon realizing that no retaliation is coming, he continues. "I don't deserve to be here with you! I don't deserve you carin' about me! I don't deserve…" He trails off, and his voice drops to barely above a whisper. "You."

Carefully, slowly, Luck takes a few steps forward, gently puts an arm around Dallas's waist. Dallas presses his forehead against Luck's chest, lays his palms flat against his shoulder blades. He's crying again, and this is more than he's ever cried, but Luck doesn't care. Better to let it out than to keep it in, anyway, and Dallas has always been more expressive in that area than Luck has ever been. He puts his hand against the back of Dallas's head, cradling it there carefully.

"That's not for you to decide," Luck says just as softly. He presses his nose into Dallas's hair, closes his eyes. "You can't make any rational decisions or judgment right now. You're not ready."

"Will you make them for me?" Dallas's voice shakes, as does his body, and he turns to look up at Luck. He opens his eyes, gives a faint smile.

"That was the plan."

"Will you help me?"

"Haven't I been doing that?"

"Will you be my geborgenheit?"

Luck pauses. Could he do that? Could he be Dallas's rock, his safe place? Could he keep him safe from harm? Of course he could, but it's up to Dallas whether he wants to play along or not.

"Yes, if that's what you want me to be."

Dallas's fingers curl into Luck's clothes, and tears fill his eyes as he cups the sides of Luck's cheeks in his hands and leans up to kiss him.