Chapter Text
You just
don't
know
what to do.
You're not dumb.
You know Jake's exhibiting signs of something.
Has he been binging and purging? Maybe. Has he been starving himself? Well, he's only ever home for dinner- breakfast sometimes. He's usually at work during lunch so you don't see each other then. You can't be sure if he's starving himself. For all you know he could be eating perfectly during lunch and this whole thing is just a delusion of yours caused by a sudden onset Munchausen Syndrome by proxy.
(You know it's not you know he's not eating.)
What else is there?
Has he been chewing and not swallowing? Probably, but probably not. Has he been eating normally and purging? Who knows.
You want to confront him again and actually get something out of him, but whenever you talk to him he just tells you that no, it's just work; reassuring you that he's just too busy now that he's been promoted he's just a little stressed out.
Next time he comes back from work you've set his plate for him.
It's small. It's a lot smaller than what he used to eat what, two, maybe three months ago? It's about a third of that size now.
When you noticed his portions getting smaller and smaller and pointed it out, he just got larger portions and ate less and less of that.
Well, you're gonna talk to him today.
Right when Jake gets home you forego the whole 'honey I'm home!' thing and pull him into the bedroom to sit him down on the bed. You set yourself next to him and just stare.
Of course he looks iunnerved, but you keep looking at him.
"S-Strider? What do you think you're doing?" he eventually asks.
You shake your head, "Jake there's something wrong and you're not telling me. I don't like that. What's going on with you?"
He looks taken aback; "Wh-what? No there's nothing wrong I've told you already, remember?"
You glare at him; outright glare at him this time. "Jake can't you see? You haven't been eating. Your portions are getting smaller, you're eating less- and how the hell should I know if you're eating at work or if you're eating breakfast at all. You gotta tell me this stuff man, you never say anything anymore."
His expression falters for a second before returning to that stupid generic grin that wasn't his. It wasnt't his charming English grin. It was blank and empty. "No there's nothing wrong. I promise you." His voice sounds strained.
Your glare hardens. You honestly didn't think that could happen, but it does. "You fucking promising me English? I thought- no. Don't fucking promise me anything. There's something wrong and you're not telling me now spit it out."
You admit that wasn't the most tactile way to to deal with this but you're done. You're out of options. "Jake tell me right now or I'm leaving."
Jake's eyes widen to the size of dinner plates and he launches himself at you, fisting your shirt. He looks desperate. "Wh- no what- you can't be serious!"
"Jake I am as serious as a malignant tumor. Stage fucking three cancer. God dammit you listen to me. You listen to me right now. You are going to tell me what is wrong or I am walking out that door and not coming back until you do," you deadpan.
For emphasis, you grab his wrists and squeeze tight until he gasps in pain and releases you. His bottom lip trembles and you can tell he doesn't like this. Well neither do you. "Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?'
He sniffles and looks down. You release his wrists and you realize they're a little smaller than you remember. You can actually feel the bone. Jake wrings them in his hands as if it actually hurt. "There's nothing wrong. I promise you" he repeats.
In turn you sniff, tilt your chin up and get off the bed. Jake gasps and again launches himself at you, begging you not to go. "Please Dirk, Dirk I'll talk- Dirk please don't go I'll tell you.."
That stops you in your tracks.
You look him in the eye. "It actually took the threat of me leaving for you to tell me what the fuck was going on? Really? Do you not trust me enough?"
Jake lets you go and looks down ashamed, "It's not that I don't trust you it's just- it- you- I don't think you would understand."
Something in you snaps at that. "You didn't tell me because you thought I wouldn't fucking understand? Jake motherfucking English we've been together for I don't even know how many years at time point if you don't trust me to help you then- what? What do we have if you don't trust me?"
He sniffs again and brings a hand up to wipe tears from his eyes. "No it's not that I-I do trust you! It's just that you wouldn't understand. I don't want you to understand. It's just something dumb. It's- it's nothing I promise."
You grab his chin in your hand, tilt it up ever so slightly so you can look each other in the eye and he can stop wringing his fucking hands. "Jake English," you hiss, "you are going to tell me what is wrong right now. No more threats, no. I'm leaving."
More tears bead up in his eyes and start raining down freely. His hands once again grab at your shirt. "No! No no no!" he begs, practically sobbing in your arms crying like a child.
Your posture softens a bit, pulling him against you. "Jake just tell me and I won't go. Jake, Jake baby please."
It takes a few minutes for him to calm down, but when he does, you tilt his head up and ask him one last time: "Jake can you tell me whats's wrong?"
He nods slowly.
You guide him back to the bed and sit him down. Taking your place beside him. Immediately he crawls into your lap and clings onto you. Jake really was afraid of you leaving.
You ask again, "Jake what's wrong."
He shakes his head. "It's... It wasn't that big of a deal I promise. It's just- i... It was just some stupid thing about some stupid stuff. It shouldn't... It wasn't supposed to do this. I was just working towards something but it got out of hand."
You furrow your brow knowing exactly what he was talking about. Why didn't you confront him sooner? Why didn't you confront him the first time you noticed his plates getting smaller? When you noticed him taking fewer bites?
When you noticed him getting sadder.
You bury your face in this hair, taking a deep breath. "Why... Why would you ever do that?"
"Because I was afraid you would find me... You're so attractive yourself Dirk, why would you ever be with a guy like me?"
You scoff "Jake I spent my teenage years pining after you, thinking you'd never ever return my feelings. Are you seriously telling me this right now? You are the most gorgeous guy I have ever met and nothing will ever change that. Nothing. Ten years or however many years of being together will never change that. You are the most beautiful person I have ever met and I couldn't dream of being with anyone but you."
He shakes his head, "I appreciate the sentiment, but even if you think so I won't. I'm never gonna be that guy. That guy... You are that guy. I'm not.. I've got to work to be that guy."
You furrow your brow again. "What guy?"
Jake shakes his head "No.. no. I've got to work."
You frown, cupping his face with both hands and tilting his head up to look at you again. "You stop that. You are that guy. You've always been that guy. You are that guy who's the only guy for me."
Then you kiss him.
As cliche as it all looks you don't even care anymore.
Once you've straightened yourselves out and all tears are wiped away, you bring Jake out back to the kitchen and sit him down at the table, re-warming his plate before you take your seat by his side. "Jake can you eat at least half of this?"
Jake looks at you then back down at the food, and you again. He looks back and forth like an invisible tennis match is going on between your face and the plate. You sigh, take his fork in hand, twirl a few noodles and bring it up to his mouth. "Open up."
He looks at you with a horrified expression. "No I really don't think this is a good idea."
You frown, "Jake you've got to eat you've lost like ten pounds."
His face actually quirks up at this, into a little smirk. A twitch of the lip, barely noticable. He reacts to this and you know that force feeding him won't work.
"Jake you've got to eat."
He shakes his head and your frown deepens again, wrinkling your face.
It's clear this isn't going to be easy, but still.
Recovery. Yeah.
That sounds good.