A/N: Do feast upon the Dex's sexiness.
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Chapter IX: The Broken Ones

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"...maybe I see a part of me in them, the missing piece always trying to fit in. The shattered heart, hungry for a home. No, you're not alone. I love the broken ones." 

Dia Frampton, The Broken Ones.

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Haley didn't spare Dex a look when she returned from upstairs and headed into the kitchen to put on the water. She hummed gently under her breath, expression soft, and she looked lovelier now with mascara smeared and lipstick rubbed off than she ever could with her fake face. She was younger, somehow, but also older, gentle, and Dex wondered what she was like before all this, and he wondered what she had the potential to be. What could she do, if someday she managed to sweep up the glass fragments that must be scattered somewhere around her stomach, sweep them up and piece them together again into the heart they once were. Maybe an aorta or two would be in the wrong place, but could it still work the same?

He went to her instead of waiting for her to acknowledge him, leaning against the counter and watching her prepare the instant coffee. "Is he still mad at me?"

"Furious." She nodded. "He'll sulk up there for hours now."

Dex sighed and dragged his hand along his face, skin catching at the stubble there. "I shouldn't have done that," he admitted.

"Done what?" She asked, putting on the water and hopping up on to the counter in her usual spot. He could smell the cloying scent of her perfume from here. It was sweet, yet bitter, and Dex remembered his mother throwing out perfumes once they'd gotten too old and started to smell like this.

Dex closed his eyes and massaged his temples. Thinking about his mother's perfumes all lined up on the dresser wasn't useful right now." He told me not to involve you, and...and I should have respected that."

Suddenly, a warm hand enclosed his own, and he opened his eyes to find Haley's face inches from his, taking up the whole of his vision. She really was beautiful, Dex realized in that second, once you could look past the shell she had built around herself, and he imagined several thousand young men would murder to be in his position right now.

He hoped she was able to find that man, someday. But now, she had only found his eyes with her own.

"It was the right thing," she whispered. "I...I owe you one, right?"

Dex shook his head and pulled back a little. "No. It wasn't right."

Haley frowned and her nails dug sharply into his hand. "Hey. Look, no. It was."

When he just sighed, she rolled her eyes and slid off the counter, taking both his shoulders and gripping tight. "Look, hobbit, I know Timmy a lot better than you do, right? So when I say it was the right thing to do, just accept that I'm right, you're wrong, and move on."

She shoved away from him and heads back to prepare the coffee. Dex's eyes flickered to the door to the upstairs. He had sat down on the couch with Haley at his side for half an hour after Timmy had stomped upstairs, listening to brief frustrated yells and his name being used in a variety of very creative curses before things had calmed down and Haley had gone to check on him. It had been the guiltiest Dex had ever felt in his life, and that included the time he had punched his boxing instructor into submission out of rage.

"Hey." Haley leaned over the counter. "Would you listen? You did the right thing. Yes, Timmy's gonna go all head-bitch on your ass for the next month, but..."

"But what?" Dex muttered.

Her expression softened into a half-smile. "But," she said, "When he actually realizes that he wants to live, he'll thank you."

"But when will he realize?" Dex asked desperately.

Haley lifted and dropped one shoulder. "Dunno. I mean... it's Timmy." And there was the explanation. It's Timmy. It's always Timmy.

There was never an answer that would be so terribly vague and yet so accurate.

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Haley sent him home after an hour. Timmy wasn't coming downstairs anytime soon. She walked Dex to the front door and promised to call as soon as Timmy was ready to start discussing the exact details of how they were going to do this.

"He's...struggling," she whispered, staring up at the ceiling as if he could hear her. "You have to understand. He's known he was going to..." She stopped, shivered a little bit, and shut her eyes. "He's been living like he was going to die.  It won't be easy, coming back from that. I'm not sure he'll even realize it completely, not for a couple of days."

"I understand," Dex told her, and he was beginning to. When someone had worked so hard so that they could accept their own death, it must be ten times more difficult to suddenly have to accept life again. To suddenly have this concept of a future, stretched out in front of you, welcoming you back into its arms like a mother trying to coax back a wayward child—Dex couldn't imagine it. He could understand it, maybe, somewhat, but he could not imagine it.

The worst part would be later on though, Dex realized. It would be once Timmy had taken his future, cupped it in his hands and let it burn and grow before placing it back inside his chest. It would be once he had hope again. Because once Timmy had that, he also had something that he could lose.

Dex had already gathered up the responsibility for Timmy's life, lured it in with useless money and secured it with Haley's words. And he knew that he would never abuse it, never abandon or ignore it. But Timmy couldn't know that in the same way Dex did.

Timmy didn't trust people. And now he was being forced to trust Dex with everything.

That will be the worst part.

"You know, this doesn't mean I like you," Haley informed him as he stepped out into the afternoon light. It was getting colder now, turning from November to December, even if there wasn't snow on the ground as of yet. "If you hurt him, I will feed you your own testicles, are we clear?"

"Very, thank you," Dex replied, and she slammed the door in his face.

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Dex didn't expect to hear from either of them for a few days, and his low expectations were rewarded. He went to work as usual, and found it easier now, to deal with it all. He listened to Jon and Davis—Jon actually, as Davis looked distant and thoughtful—blather on about their Friday night adventures, and merely hummed when Jon asked him about his own night. What could he say? He had kept Timmy to himself. His own little secret that differentiated him from all the others.

They knew something was different. But he didn't want to tell them. He couldn't tell them. Because as soon as he did there would be the questions, the questions that he didn't have an answer to and the questions he wouldn't want to answer even if he could. The idea of telling people at work, even his best friends, letting them catch a glimpse of Timmy like that, letting them know his secrets that he worked so hard to hide—Dex couldn't think of a worse way to make himself completely unworthy of Timmy's trust. And he wanted that trust. Needed that trust, in order to save him.

So he held the secret close, and he held it there for two weeks. In spare hours he headed to the library and opened his laptop up to dozens of tabs, trying to find out everything he could. What it was exactly Timmy had, what he would have to go through. It made him feel sick, especially when he found the pictures of surgeries, and his mind supplemented Timmy lying there under the slices of scalpels. Sometimes, he had to slam the computer shut, hide the books beneath his pillows, and walk around his apartment, trying to shake the deadness in his fingers and fight the fuzzing behind his eyes.

He wondered if Timmy did this, once he found out. If he went and tried to find out everything he could. Probably, Dex knew. He didn't think Timmy could take not knowing. He wished that wasn't the case though—too many of these stories didn't end with happy endings.

It didn't make him wonder, not now, how Timmy could have given up. It would seem like the only thing to do.

So he stayed and worked his routine around worry and anxiety every day, weaved it into the hours until it was always there, overlaid on top of everything he saw, until Haley finally called him. It was  eleven when she did, and Dex was already tucked up in his blankets, eyes half-closed as he watched re-runs of Jersey Shore. When his phone began buzzing from the nightstand, he thought he was dreaming for a moment before the rattle of plastic against wood sent the phone off the table onto the floor.  Dex started, then rolled out of bed and snatched it up, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. "Hello?"

Haley almost half-whispered after a pause. "You need to be here now."

"Where?" Dex stumbled to his feet and ran to grab his jeans, strewn across the floor.

"The Urgent Care on Audubon."

"I'm on my way."

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Haley was sitting in the waiting room, filing at her nails, when Dex arrived. There was not too many people here now—what looked like a family in the corner, parents letting sleepy-eyed children rest in their laps, and a middle-aged man with his nose buried in a wrinkled and torn copy of Sports Illustrated. The nurse at the counter glanced up when Dex entered, and she fluttered her fake eyelashes as she looked him over. Dex ignored her obvious seduction and skirted the desk to head for Haley. "You're late," Haley told him as soon as Dex sat down in the seat beside her. "I've been waiting here forever."

"Forty-five minutes," Dex countered. "What's wrong? Is Timmy okay?"

She sighed, raised her eyebrows, and continued picking. "Another seizure."

"Is he alright?"

She turned to stare at him, a brow raised. "What part of seizure is hard to understand?"

"Yes, well, obviously he's had seizures before," Dex snapped, "And I don't think you've been taking him into the Urgent Care, so f*ck me for being worried!"

She grimaced, before staring down to pick at her pinky nail. "Didn't have a benefactor before."

Of course. Dex forgot that he was here as a walking checkbook. It was what he agreed to, and it was all they agreed to see him as. But he wouldn't be able to help, not if they wouldn't listen.

"Haley, I think we need to get him into a doctor. Start him on chemo...or a surgery...something. If you wait much longer, money won't be able to do much."

"Yeah, I know that," she huffed, stowing the nail file in the side-pocket of her purse. "You think I haven't tried?"

"Well, I don't think you're trying hard enough," Dex grumbled. He knew what they were doing was pointless. Oh, it was so pointless. But they would scrabble and fight because they both needed to save Timmy, and the fact that they both needed to save him would set them at odds because they were both being childish and stupid and Dex didn't particularly want to stop right now.

His quiet words shot up her spine, stiffening her shoulders.

"No, okay, wow." She slammed her hands down on the arms of her chair and glared at him. "So, just so we have one thing clear here—you don't know anything about me. You don't know anything about him. You don't know us, right? You're here to sign your name on the bottom of checks, and then as soon as this is over, I want you gone, okay?"

"I know enough about you to know that if we don't get him into a proper clinic soon, he's dead," Dex hissed, trying to keep his voice down as the middle-aged man lowered his magazine to stare at them. "Okay, Haley? And fine—as soon as this is over, I will disappear and never bother either of you two again. But until then, I am just as much a part of this as you are, and you need to accept that, okay?" He ran his hands through his hair in irritation. "I've done some research. These seizures? They mean it's getting worse, don't they?" It's not a question. "He's getting worse. And you know it."

Her lip curled up and she leaned in until their noses were brushing. "My best friend has a f*cking tumor, Pryce. Of course I know it. I'm the one taking care of him."

Dex realized what he had said a half second too late, and suddenly he not only wanted to stop but suck the words back into his mouth. "Well, that's not always been the case, has it? You never bothered to realize what he was going through in high-school until he—"

The slap made his teeth rattle in his mouth, and he felt the blood immediately well up in his nose and trickle down into his mouth. When he opened his eyes once more, the family in the corner was staring at him like a group of owls on a branch, and Haley was storming out the door onto the street.

"F*ck." Dex wiped the blood from his lip as he stood and dashed across the waiting room after her. "Haley..."

He shoved open the door and stumbled out onto the sidewalk. The lights of buildings illuminated the faint flakes falling in the air, sparkling on his skin, and the air nipped at his ears and fingers. Haley was stomping away down the walkway, already beginning to shiver in her flimsy skirt and jacket.

"Haley!" Dex called, running after her.

"Stay the hell away from me!" She shouted, not even turning back.

"Haley, I'm sorry!"

She didn't stop.

"Can you slow down? I want to talk to you!"

She spun around and continued walking backwards as she flipped him off. "No."

"Haley..." Dex shook his head, pushed a little extra speed into his legs and caught her by the elbow as she tried to turn back around. "Haley, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up..."

She snatched her arm back. "You don't think I don't feel guilty about that?" She snarled, her eyes brimming with tears. "You don't think I look at him every day and think about what could have happened if I hadn't been so selfish and stupid and blind?"

"I..."

"Every single day I have to look at him and...and I know that if I had just taken my head out my ass for five f*cking minutes and helped him..." She scrubbed her hand furiously across her face, smearing her mascara across her cheeks. "He could have been something great, you know? And it's my fault."

"Haley, I'm sorry," Dex whispered. "It wasn't your fault. That was wrong of me to..."

"We need to get him to a real doctor," she muttered, pushing her hair off of her face. "We do. I'll take him tomorrow..."

"No," Dex said softly, clasping her hand in his own and stroking across her skin with his thumb. "We will. Haley...I know that you're strong. I know that. But nobody should have to do something like this alone, and you already have been for too long. Please. I..." He swallowed, tasting blood, and worked to clear his throat before speaking again. "I really do care about him. And...and I promise I'll leave once he's going to be okay, but...but for now..."

She frowned at their hands, and then up at his face. "You really do love him, don't you?"

Dex blinked, and nodded.

"And you're going to just...give up? Once he's okay again, you'll just...walk away?" She was studying his face carefully, and Dex knew exactly what she must be thinking.

Haley loved. She loved and couldn't let go, and she always loses, not through choice, but because she was strung out and disregarded and forgotten. And she couldn't imagine walking away from it all, because that sort of love was the only kind she had ever known. Love with conditions. Love that ebbed and flowed and disappeared. She had built herself around that kind of love. So she would hold it tight and never let that love go, and the idea of ever cutting herself loose from it was impossible.

She was jealous. She was jealous because Dex could love, and lose, and leave, and survive. He might not like it, he might lie helpless in his bed for weeks following, knowing that Timmy was alive yet he could never see him again, but in the end he could survive on the very fact that Timmy was alive. Haley couldn't do that.

"I'll leave if he wants me to," Dex told her. "But right now, we should probably go back inside. And tomorrow we'll talk."

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It was another fifty minutes before the nurse at the front began asking those difficult financial questions. Dex took the clipboard of paperwork and filled out all his information, and got Haley's help with Timmy's medical history. This night was only equaling out to a couple hundred dollars, which was lucky, Dex supposed. He looked it up online. According to most sources, he was going to spending around fifty thousand dollars in the coming months, or more. But it was worth it. It was just little slips of paper in exchange for a life. And it was not like he would ever find something more useful to spend money on.

"So...he's alright?" Haley asked the nurse when he came to collect the paperwork. "He's awake?"

"He's awake," the man told them, frowning a little and rubbing at the stubble on his chin. "Are you his relatives?"

"Housemate," Haley answered.

The nurse glanced side to side before leaning over and muttering, "Make sure he starts eating, alright? Would help a lot. And we can fax a write-up to his primary care physician if..."

"He doesn't have one," Haley snapped. The nurse raised his eyebrows before flipping to the second page on the clipboard and humming.

"You probably want to get one."

"No sh*t." Haley folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.

Dex sighed and shot her a glare. "We're looking into it now," he told the nurse. "Thank you." The nurse gave an understanding smile and walked back through the doors leading to the offices. As soon as he was gone, Dex turned to Haley. "What did he mean by 'make sure he starts eating'? Don't you have any food?"

"I'm working on it, alright? They've been cutting back on my hours and we had to pay rent..." She was defensive again immediately, and that wouldn't help any of them.

Dex groaned and reached into his pocket once more. He ripped out his checkbook and scribbled out an amount. "Right. So I want you to cash this tomorrow. And tell me as soon as you start running low. You two need to eat. And buy some proper blankets."

She took the check from his hands and her eyes widen when she saw the 'Five Hundred' scrawled across the line. "Um... You sure?"

"If we save his life only for you guys to starve, that sort of defeats the purpose doesn't it?"

She frowned a little before slipping the check into the front pocket of her purse, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Thank you."

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When Timmy found them in the waiting room, he smiled sheepishly. "You guys are going to be exhausted tomorrow," he said as they both jumped to their feet. "I could have taken a cab home, you know."

"No, you couldn't have, silly," Haley told him, standing and smoothing her skirt down her legs.

Timmy, in contrast, was dressed in his pin-striped pajamas, with his hair stuck up like hedgehog prickles on his head. His cheeks were flushed, eyes bright, but the fact that he wasn't seizing on the floor was a good sign. "Do you wanna go home now?"

"Yeah, that would be nice." Timmy glanced over at Dex and regarded him coolly. "You're still here?"

Oh, of course he was still mad.

"I regularly wander hospitals at night," Dex answered, "Good exercise."

"Hah!" Timmy studied his face before allowing a small smile to touch his lips. "I was wondering what your routine was."

Dex shrugged. "Haley and I were thinking of meeting up tomorrow for lunch. Talk about things? Are you okay with that?"

"He's fine with it, let's go." Haley latched onto Timmy's arm and dragged him toward the door.

"Haley, slow down!" He yelped, stumbling over his own feet. Dex caught onto his shoulder and Timmy sent him a grateful grin before apparently remembering he was still supposed to be annoyed. He gently shrugged off Dex's hand and lightly tugged his arm out of Haley's grip. "I am perfectly capable of walking by myself."

"Anyway, do you think you could take Haley to that coffee shop we always used to go to?" Dex continued as Haley pushed the door open and led them into the open air. It was still snowing, tiny little flakes that he could barely feel. Timmy sighed and leaned back against the wall as Haley walked to the edge of the sidewalk and began waving lazily for a cab. There were still a fair few driving along the street, but none pulled over for her, and she began stepping further and further into the street to catch the cabbies' attention, wobbling a little in her heels.

"I guess so," Timmy said, reaching up to massage his temples lightly. "What time?"

"How about eleven?" Dex asked. "Beat the lunch rush."

"Alright," Timmy agreed. Haley gave a crow of triumph and dashed back to grab him. There was a cab pulled up to the sidewalk, and Haley helped Timmy inside before turning back and sending Dex a salute before shutting the door behind her. The taxi stalled for a few seconds, and then veered back out onto the street.

Dex shrugged, stuck his hands in his pockets, and started down the street.

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Timmy and Haley were already there when Dex arrived at quarter to eleven, seated in one of the corner tables cut off from the main room. Timmy was sitting with his legs drawn up, head in his hand, picking moodily at a croissant while Haley dipped her finger into the whipped cream of her hot chocolate and sucked it off in a way that would probably be highly effective except for the fact the erotic image did nothing for all three of them—Haley was beautiful, if not breathtaking, but Dex wasn't capable of thinking her that way, not when his heart was someplace else. Dex wondered why she did it.

"You're here," she commented when Dex pulled up the seat across from them.

"Hi Dex," Timmy added, popping a piece of the croissant into his mouth. "Thanks for lunch." He lifted his eyes and quirked an eyebrow and Dex knew that Timmy had found out about the five hundred dollars.

"I'm going to go grab a coffee first, okay?" He asked, and Timmy waved a hand dismissively.

The line for the counter was abysmally short, and too soon Dex was heading back to the table with no clue how to start this. Haley had moved from the whipped cream to actually drinking by now, and Timmy had folded onto the table—he almost looked like he was asleep, except for the fact that he opened one eye for half a second when Dex sat down.

"So...um," Dex began, and Timmy shifted so his arms lay crossed on the table with his chin tucked on top. "How do we want to do this?"

"Do what?" Timmy mumbled.

"You're going to see a doctor," Haley told him, slurping loudly at her drink. "No more waiting."

"Isn't that something I should get to decide?" He asked, brow crinkling in annoyance.

"Well, maybe you could've if you weren't being such an idiot about it," she replied, and Dex quickly buried his nose in his coffee.

"I have not been an idiot about it!"

"Yes you have, Ryeille."

"I have not!"

Dex set down the coffee and folded his hands in front of him. "So..." he began, talking over them. "Basically, the best way to go about this is to find a doctor. There are lots of oncologists in New York who treat...who treat what you have, so we can do a search and find a doctor you like..."

"Dex..." Timmy sighed, and he reached a hand over to force Dex's down to the table. "Listen to me. This is me, alright? There was never a 'we' in here. You too, Haley. I'm the one with the f*cked up head, and I'm the one who'll deal with it, okay? If you're both so determined to help, then fine. Haley, you find a better job where I don't have to worry about you so damn much. Dex, you write those checks that you seem God-driven to do and leave it alone. That's how you can help."

Dex leaned back, biting on his lip to hold back the tremble. He knew it, he was getting used to the idea, but every time Timmy reminded him of how he meant absolutely nothing, how he may as well be constructed of paper money all glued together with no thoughts or words to match, it managed to twist in his heart, aching and sharp.

He remembered when Timmy managed to make him feel like more than he was. Now, he didn't feel like anything at all.

Haley didn't react the same way though. She shot Dex an apologetic glance before standing up from the table and whacking Timmy on the back of his head as she sidled out from behind the table and began walking to the counter. "You're an idiot," she told him, "And I'm getting a sandwich. What do you want?"

"Do they have grilled cheese?" He asked her, and she nodded. "Right. I'll have that, please. And I'm not an idiot."

"Whatevs." She held up a hand to his protests and walked away.

Timmy groaned and thumped his head back against the wall. Dex watched him as his eyes screwed shut and he rolled his shoulders back slowly.

"Timmy?"

"Yes?" Timmy lifted his head back up but didn't open his eyes.

"That's an awful lot for one person to deal with."

Timmy's shoulders dropped, his jaw slackened, his eyes fell open—he was deflated. He stared at Dex and shook his head softly from side to side. "I just don't see why you're doing this," he finally whispered. "Look I...I know you said that...that you love me but...but I still don't see why..."

Dex sighed and rubbed his hand along his jaw before his eyes flickered back to Timmy. "Am I...am I not allowed to just want you to be alive?" He asked weakly.

Timmy took a deep breath, shaky and slow and tremulous. "But that's not how people work."

"It's how I work," Dex said. Timmy frowned at him, lips parting in confusion and his entire face emanating complete bewilderment. Dex took it all in, and continued. "I know you don't trust me. That's fine. I probably wouldn't trust me either."

Timmy snorted and gave a wry little grin of agreement.

Dex smiled before reaching his hand across the table and tapping his fingers against Timmy's arm gently. "But I am telling the truth when I say that what I want most in this world is to help you. And if that's all that ever happens, I can accept that. And I will leave if you want me to, as soon as you're better."

Timmy sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and worried at it as he studied the table. Finally, he muttered, "I know which doctor I want. I...I thought about it when...when I first found out." The idea of Timmy actually going through lists of doctors before coming to realize that he couldn't actually afford any of them shifted in his gut in an expectantly painful way.

Dex nodded quickly. "Okay. Well, if you give me their name, we can set up an appointment..."

Timmy blinked rapidly and picked at his half-eaten croissant. "Don't do this," he whispered.

"Do what?" Dex asked.

Timmy ripped the croissant in half and studied the ragged edges. "This."

"That doesn't help me much."

Timmy shut his eyes. "Look, people don't just give up insane amounts of money and get nothing in return. I mean, I'm sure you've looked this up. Tumor treatment can cost tens of thousands of dollars. And...you're going to just give that to me and leave? People just don't act like that. And if they do act like that, then something's wrong with you."

"Well, alright then, something's wrong with me then." Dex shrugged dismissively. "Or something is really wrong with other people."

Timmy chuckled, dry and soft, but didn't comment.

Dex slid his fingers down Timmy's arm to his hand, wrapping it in his. "Timmy. I'm not lying to you. I promise...I'm going to help you get better."

Timmy's eyes widen and he stared at Dex, emotions clashing behind his pupils. He swallowed once, and his skin pinpricked beneath Dex's touch. A group of people entered through the front door of the coffee shop: the bell above them tingled, and the raucous sound of their conversation momentarily made the noise of the coffee machines and ticking of clocks and click of computer keys from the college students in corners momentarily swell and rise before it settled back down.  "Leslie Richards," Timmy said at last in a whisper. "The doctor. Her name is Leslie Richards."

"Alright," Dex said, squeezing his hand tight. "I'll call her office this afternoon, take care of it."

Timmy's mouth twitched upwards, and Dex couldn't remember ever finding a smile so breathtaking, small and unsure as it was. "Thank you," he murmured shyly. The smile breached his eyes this time, making the lavender spark and shift like the amethyst in sunlight, and suddenly, Dex was more than himself again. He was everything, if just for one moment.

After a minute, Timmy took his hand back and waved at Haley as she returned with food, but the smile stayed with Dex, filling him up and over and making everything he could ever do for this boy worth it.

That smile was all the payment he could ever ask for.

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αυтнσя'ѕ иσтє:

A shoutout once again to Natalie @zmeya47 for her endless support and constructive reviews. *huggehs* She is also the great author of "Faith is Stronger", an extraordinary spin on Harry Potter. 

Anyway, chapter's been edited to remove some errors left over from when I last beta-read, particularly the apparent contradiction of the tenses. Thanks for catching that, guys!

Until next chapter . . . .

*offers everyone a vanilla snow cone* 

PS. The Broken Ones by Dia Frampton.