Chapter Text
"Sir. Sir," Nathan said patiently. "As I've explained already, you're not allowed to bring it through security. All liquids must be in containers of two ounces or less, and in clear ziploc bags. That's a bottle of whiskey, and there is a lot more than two ounces left in there."
He was right. He was definitely right. There was a lot more than two ounces left in the bottle that had been mostly full an hour ago. Duke clutched the smooth glass defensively. He hated flying. He especially hated flying when it involved going places he didn't want to go because his pain in the ass ex wife was being….well, a pain in the ass.
Actually, Duke thought that might have been understating it slightly but whatever. He hated flying so he'd opened a bottle of whiskey and now a wannabe cop was trying to tell him he couldn't keep it with him so he glared at him while he tried to find a valid argument as to why he should be allowed to keep it, failed to come up with anything even remotely plausible, and resorted to the next best solution. Maintaining eye contact the whole time, he unscrewed the cap, tipped the bottle to his lips and drank nearly all of it in one go, leaving what he estimated to be two ounces in the bottle.
He wiped the back of his hand across his lips and waved the now mostly empty bottle in front of the security guards face. “Better?”
Nathan's expression was pained. "No, and I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me."
“Not happening. I need to get my flight.”
"I'm sorry, but this isn't a choice."
“What do you mean this isn't a choice? Flight's booked and paid for, I'm not carrying anything I can't take on board,” Duke said, finally putting the bottle of whiskey down.
"It's still an open bottle of alcohol, it's still a glass bottle, it's still not in a quart-sized clear resealable bag, and additionally you're in no condition to fly. You can come with me or I can call security. Your choice."
“You are security and I just put the bottle down and I don’t see why I’m not in a condition to fly.”
"I'm the nice security, the kind that asks - which I'm doing for the last time. You don't want me to call for backup, because they're the guys with the AR-15s and the angry German Shepherds. Now, will you come with me or am I calling them?"
“I - ok, no, I’d rather you didn’t call them. Look...officer...is that what I’m meant to call you? Anyway. Dude, look, I’ll leave you the bottle of whiskey and -” Duke rummaged through his wallet and came up with a crumpled dollar bill which he waved in Nathan’s general direction before he thought better of it and stuffed it back into his wallet “- never mind. I’ll leave you the bottle of whiskey, just please let me on that flight.”
Nathan's expression softened minutely at Duke's obvious desperation, but all he said was, "Please come with me," as he set a hand on Duke's shoulder and escorted him out of the security area and into one of the service corridors of the airport.
Deciding that getting into a physical fight in the middle of an airport with armed security guards wouldn’t be his brightest move, Duke allowed himself to be led into the corridor.
"I'm sorry about this," Nathan apologized as he led Duke through the corridors. "But I can't let you on a plane in that condition. I'll overlook the rest - though for future reference, don't ever attempt to bribe a TSA employee, not unless you want Homeland Security investigating every last little aspect of your life with a fine-toothed comb and then probably throwing you in a nameless hole from now until eternity."
“So I guess offering sexual favours isn’t going to get me on that flight either.”
Nathan gave him a look. "The only way you're getting on that flight is if you can magically drop your blood alcohol content to zero, and since we both know that's not happening, you may as well give it a rest. You'll just have to catch a later flight if you can't dry out by this one - which is not looking good, given your little performance back there."
Duke slumped against the nearest wall. “I can’t get a later flight. Look, you and I both know my blood alcohol doesn’t have to be zero, I just have to be not obviously drunk, which I’m not. Obviously, I mean. I’m probably drunk. In fact, I was probably drunk before I drank most of that bottle. But not obviously.”
"It's not about being drunk, it's about the likelihood of you getting alcohol poisoning at thirty thousand feet in the air and dying for lack of proper medical facilities. Which is why you're going to our infirmary and not our drunk tank."
“...I’ll risk alcohol poisoning and dying, I just...I need to get there.”
"I'm sorry, I can't let you do that." Nathan opened the door to the infirmary and ushered Duke inside.
“You don’t understand,” Duke said. His lips and tongue weren’t completely cooperating with his attempts at speaking and he enunciated as carefully as he could.
Nathan sighed. "You're right, I can barely understand you. Do you think you could vomit some of that out?"
“And waste good whiskey?”
"Yes. Because it is poisoning you."
“...’s less than a bottle...won’t hurt me…”
"Lie down. On your left side," Nathan said sternly, placing a basin at the side of the bed.
Duke briefly considered arguing some more but the room was starting to lurch so he groaned and flopped down onto the bed with his arm thrown across his eyes.
"The real irony here is that if you'd surrendered the bottle instead of downing it then I'd have let you through."
“Rub it in, why don’t you?”
"You were the one who chose to be an ass about it," Nathan pointed out.
“Like I said, rub it in, why don’t you? Not like I don’t know I’m an ass. Not like I don’t know how much I’ve fucked my life up and how I’m going to lose the one thing I have left because yet again, I was a dick. Just another thing to add to the list of ways Duke Has Fucked Up. Only this time it’s serious.”
Nathan sighed. "Look, what was so important that you had to get to anyhow?"
“Doesn’t matter, not gonna make a difference, is it?”
"Then why not tell me?"
“Because why would you give a shit anyway?”
"Told you, I'm the nice guy. Besides, I have to stay here and keep an eye on you anyhow, so we might as well talk."
“My daughter,” Duke said abruptly. “Or, more specifically, my ex wife who rearranged the court dates for the custody hearing and no one thought to tell me. Apparently there was a letter but if there was, it didn’t get to me. Hearing’s at ten tomorrow morning and now she’s going to get her wish and make me look like a deadbeat dad so she can claim sole custody.”
"I'm sorry," Nathan said quietly, with genuine sympathy.
“I can leave, right? I know you can’t let me on a flight, but I’m not being detained?”
"That...that's true, but where would you go? The only place you should be right now is a hospital."
“Could try and hitch a ride, see if there’re any trucks going in the right direction.”
"I'm not letting you out of here to hitchhike while still alcohol poisoned."
“I’m drunk, not alcohol poisoned, do you have any idea how much I drink on a very regular basis, trust me, this is nowhere near alcohol poisoning.”
"That's terrifying."
Duke let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. It is.”
"Look. If you want to be a dad to your kid, you can't do this. You gotta step up and be there for them, not the bottle," Nathan said quietly.
“You think I don’t know that?”
"But you haven't done it."
“Stop fucking judging me,” Duke said, struggling back up to a sitting position. “I wasn’t drinking - at least beyond a couple beers or a glass of whiskey here and there, normal drinking - when they were living with me, only since that bitch stole my daughter, moved to another state and refused to let me see her.”
Nathan put a hand on Duke's shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down. "So if you get your daughter back, you'll stop?"
“The very second I hear the words ‘joint custody’.”
"And the second I let you go, you'll do whatever it takes, even insanely dangerous and stupid things, to try to get there?"
“My life isn’t...I’m nothing without her so yeah, I’ll do anything it takes.”
"Where exactly is this? I know you were flying into Atlantic City, but where specifically?"
“Courthouse is on Bacharach Boulevard, about five minutes off the expressway.”
"Okay, so actual Atlantic City, not one of the outlying towns." Nathan thought for a minute, then sighed. "I tell you what. If you stay here until the worst of this passes, I'll drive you down there. If we drive through the night we can get there by ten."
“You- You’d do that?”
"You'd probably end up dead in a ditch somewhere if I didn't, I can't in good conscience let you out of here to keel over from alcohol poisoning or get robbed and murdered on the side of a highway somewhere."
Duke stared at him for a full minute, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Thanks,” he said eventually, in a very small voice.
"But you have to stay here until the worst of this is over - and I mean no more arguing and backtalk and uncooperativeness, you lie down and behave. I pick the music, you pay for coffee and gas, and once you sober up you take your fair share of the driving. Those are the terms."
“Completely fair,” Duke said quickly, lying back down.
Nathan drew the thin blanket over him. "Oh, and if you're going to vomit, do it before we set out."
“I...will absolutely make sure I do that.”
"If you puke in my truck I will be very unhappy."
“I promise I won’t puke in your truck.”
"Good. You're cleaning it up if you do."
“I won’t. If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll make sure I throw up before I go anywhere near your truck.”
"Kind of expecting that anyhow," Nathan remarked. "Get some rest, if you can."
Duke nodded and settled down. He was just starting to close his eyes when a sudden thought occurred to him. “Hey, what’s your name?”
"Nathan. And you're Seymour."
“Don’t remind me,” Duke muttered. “Duke. Call me Duke. Please.”
"Fair enough, I wouldn't want to go by Seymour either. So, Duke then."
“Pretty sure my parents were high when they gave me that name.”
"Parents don't have to be high to give their kids crappy names, walk into any maternity ward or preschool and you'll see that."
“...You didn’t know my parents.”
"Not the best?" Nathan asked sympathetically.
“Nope.”
"Sorry to hear it."
“Thanks.”
"Get some rest. I'll stick around." Nathan pulled out his phone to begin planning the trip.
“Thanks Nathan,” Duke said, finally closing his eyes.
Nathan quietly sighed in relief as Duke settled down.
Half an hour later, Duke was throwing up into the basin Nathan had put beside the bed and trying very very hard not to laugh about it.
"Don't laugh while you vomit, for god's sake," Nathan said incredulously while holding Duke's hair back. "You'll inhale at the wrong time and choke on your own puke, is that what you want?"
“Sorry, sorry,” Duke said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, the fits of laughter slowly trailing off. “It’s just...is this what my life’s come to? Puking in an airport infirmary while a security guard holds my hair back?”
"Apparently. But you're gonna pull it together and be a great dad, remember?"
“Yeah,” Duke said softly. “Yeah, I am. Wanna see a pic?”
"Definitely." Nathan smiled.
Duke pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up his favourite picture. It wasn’t a remarkable photo, by any means, just a snapshot of him booping a small white teddy bear against Jean’s nose while she grinned and tried to grab hold of it. She’d refused to go anywhere without that bear for weeks afterwards and Duke couldn’t help wondering if Evi had kept it or if she’d been cruel enough to rip it out of Jean’s hands just because he’d bought it for her. The photo was bittersweet. It was one of the last pictures Duke had of him and Jean together - one of the last pictures he had of Jean full stop because Evi had left two months later - and had been taken over a year before.
"Awww, she's adorable," Nathan cooed, melting. "What a widdle cutesy-boopsie."
Duke laughed softly. “Yeah, she is.”
"Tell me about her?" Nathan smiled.
Duke’s face fell and he shrugged. “I can’t. Evi hasn’t let me see her for a year. No idea what she’s like now.”
"I'm so sorry," Nathan said quietly, giving his shoulder a squeeze.
“Thanks,” Duke said, leaning into Nathan’s contact, just slightly.
"You'll get to see her again in the morning. You got a suit to change into for the hearing?"
“...Assuming my bags were taken off the plane, yes I do.”
"They were. Automatically happens when someone's pulled at security, their bags get pulled too, for extra screening. I'll have someone bring them up here once you're feeling well enough to go."
Duke nodded. “I'm feeling pretty good, could just use a bottle of water and ten minutes to meditate.”
Nathan blinked. "Meditate?"
“Yeah. You know, sit quietly and breathe, clear your thoughts. Meditate.”
"I know what it is, I just...why? I mean, why here and now? That's not going to clear alcohol from your system or anything."
“No but it'll help to stop me wanting to drink more.”
Nathan sighed and handed Duke a bottle of water from the infirmary's fridge. "Meditate and think of your daughter. I'll get your luggage brought up."
“Thanks.” Duke took a long sip of water and sat on the floor, cross legged, to meditate.
Nathan stepped out into the hall to radio for Duke's luggage, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing.
After a few minutes, Duke got up, still slightly woozy from the alcohol but much more clear headed than he had been. “Ok,” he said when he found Nathan in the hall. “I'm good to go.”
Nathan checked his watch - it had been a while, enough that the worst should be fading. “All right. I'll walk you back to the public part of the airport, you wait there while I clock out and get my things. Won't take long," he announced.
“Ok. Thanks.”
Nathan was as good as his word, even helping Duke with his luggage and finding him an armchair to settle into for the wait. He came back shortly after, having changed from his uniform into jeans and a flannel shirt with a heavy jacket over it. "Good to go," he told Duke.
Duke immediately jumped to his feet. “You sure about this?”
"Honestly? No. But I'm still pretty sure you'll go do something idiotic and dangerous to try to get to Atlantic City, so road trip it is." He led the way to the airport's shuttle busses, greeting the driver, who dropped them off by an old blue Bronco.
“Nice truck,” Duke said, grinning.
"It is. You can see why I wanted to make sure you'd treat her right."
“I will,” Duke promised. “Believe it or not, I'm actually not completely feral.”
"I know that, I also know that people don't really have a choice when it comes to when and where they vomit."
“Fair. I promise I won't throw up in your truck, Nathan. Or do anything else that might cause damage or mess.”
Nathan nodded and swung up into the driver's seat, unlocking the passenger door for Duke. "Make yourself at home."
Duke climbed in. “Want to stop and pick up something to eat before we head off?”
"Good plan, if you're feeling up to it. Will help absorb the alcohol for you, and I'm starving."
“Which route were you planning on taking out of town?”
“Route one. Quickest way to the interstate. Gonna have to stop for gas too. And coffee. I work enough nights to do this, but not after a sixteen hour double."
“Fuck, Nathan. You shouldn't be doing this at all. Look, just drop me at the train station, I promise I won't do anything stupid.”
"There's not gonna be any trains running at this time of night. You'd be lucky to find a Greyhound bus, and those are hell on wheels."
Duke groaned. “Yeah, and wouldn't get me there in time.”
Nathan nodded. "So, road trip it is."
“Thank you,” Duke said quietly.
"Not like I was doing anything else. You need anything else before we get out of town?"
“You really got the spare time to do this?”
"Got the week off. Vacation time about to expire, can't carry it over. Boss insisted I need a break for mental well being or some such crap."
“I mean, it's a valid point, you can't work yourself into the ground.”
Nathan shrugged. "Not like I got anything better to do."
“No? No hobbies, just work?”
Nathan shrugged again. "Nothing worth mentioning."
“Fair enough. You still need down time though.”
"If you say so."
“I do.”
"All right. Fast food burgers okay for dinner?"
“Yeah, anything's good with me.”
"I know it's not great, but it's quick at least. We can grab the burgers, grab coffee, grab some snacks, grab gas, and get gone."
“Yeah, no, it's a good plan.”
"And yet you don't sound enthused. You have a better plan?"
“No, I really don't. Not without a twenty minute detour, anyway.”
"We can't really afford that. It's long drive to Atlantic City and I don't have to tell you that time matters."
“Which is why I said I didn't have a better plan.”
"We could wait and see if we see something better along the way."
“You said you were hungry, you need coffee and gas... we're stopping at the first place we get to.”
Nathan checked the gas tank. "Could make it at least as far as Boston on what's in the tank."
“But not without food and coffee.”
"Few more hours won't kill me."
“Nathan, we're stopping. I need food to sober up so I can share the driving.”
"Okay, fair point. Forgot you needed food too. Sorry."
“Don't be. Are you always so… Do you always put your needs last?”
"It's not a big deal, I'd have been fine. There's a Burger King next to a Dunkies out by the turn onto route one, and a gas station across the street. If I drop you off can you get the food and coffee while I gas up?"
“No problem, just let me know what you want.”
"Just a regular big mac or whatever is fine. And maybe one of those big 'Box o' Joe' gallon coffee things, gonna need a lot over the course of the night."
“...I don't think Burger King do big macs but fine, I'll get you something. And a lot of coffee. Need to sort out gas money for you too.”
“I know they don't but hell if I know what they're called," Nathan looked amused. "Whatever their equivalent of a big mac is, that better? Far as gas goes, if you've got cash I'll give you the receipt after."
“...I'll get some cash.”
"You gonna be okay with this?" Nathan couldn't help asking.
“Yeah, fine, just need to go to an ATM.”
"Pretty sure there's one in the gas station."
“Easy then, I'll pick up food and coffee, you can let me know how much the gas was and I'll get you the cash before we go.”
"Fair enough. You can get whatever car snacks you want while you're in there, and soda if you don't want coffee."
“I will pick up car snacks and soda,” Duke said, smiling.
Nathan nodded. "Hope you like classic rock, that'll be the music. I might keep it cold to stay awake, but there's a blanket in the back if you need it. In fact if you need to stretch out back there and sleep this off some more, there's room for it."
“Might actually do that, sober up faster.”
"Fair enough. Just get something in your stomach first, yeah?"
“Yeah, I will. Why do you care so much, anyway?”
Nathan was quiet for a long moment before admitting, "Kids belong with the parent who's best for them."
Duke stared at him. “You really think I'm best for her?”
"Duke, you were willing to do everything from bribe a TSA officer to risk life and limb hitchhiking to Atlantic City. Anyone who wants to be there for their kid that badly, who's willing to go through so much and give up so much to do it, they're not going to be a crappy parent."
“I'm not so sure about that,” Duke said quietly.
"Shitty parents don't have doubts about whether they're shitty parents. If you care enough to worry about it, that means you want to be doing it right. No parent is perfect. But the fact that you want to be a good parent, that's half the battle."
Duke nodded as Nathan pulled up outside the Burger King. “Yeah. Maybe. I'll grab the food, see you in a few.”
Nathan nodded and waited for him to hop out before heading to the gas station across the street.
A few minutes later, Duke was back, carrying a bag filled with road trip snacks and sodas, another bag with a couple of burgers and fries, and two large coffees as well as a box o' Joe, all of which he deposited (neatly) in the truck. “How much was gas?”
Nathan handed over the receipt, trading it for the burger, which he tore into ravenously. "Got everything you wanted?" he asked, rather indistinctly.
“Yeah,” Duke said. “Lemme just…” He went over to the ATM, got his pin right at the second attempt, tried not to wince at the state of his bank balance, and took out enough cash to cover this tank of gas as well as enough for the next one. He handed Nathan the wad of cash when he got back into the truck.
"This is more than it cost," Nathan pointed out.
“Yeah, saves me getting cash for the next one as well. Guessing this old girl eats through the gas pretty fast.”
"Yeah." Nathan grimaced. "Smart, if you're asleep when I have to stop, I won't need to wake you." He set the empty burger wrapper down, placing his fries next to him where he could eat as he drove.
Duke nodded, nibbling at his burger and trying not to grimace at how terrible it was.
Nathan glanced over. "Look, I know these are shit. When you see a better place along the way and you'd rather go there, let me know and we'll stop. Anything that won't take too long and isn't too far out of the way is fair game. One of those 'fast casual' places or something. Fair?"
“Fair,” Duke agreed, forcing himself to eat anyway, in the hope it would help him sober up.
"The fries might be a better bet. Hard to screw up fries."
“You'd be surprised. Had this chef working for me once and I have no idea how he managed it but he was literally incapable of cooking fries.”
"....You just chop potatoes and dunk them in boiling oil. What did he do, burn the crap out of them?"
“I fired him before I could figure out what he was getting wrong. The rest of his food wasn't much better and he was harassing some of the female members of staff. I'm all for giving people a chance but that…? No. That shit doesn't fly with me.”
"Good for you. A man can learn to cook but he'll never learn to not feel entitled to women's bodies and attention. He's probably a dawning rapist somewhere."
Duke nodded. “Probably. Hope I kicked his ass enough for him to reconsider his attitude but….who knows?”
"Guys like that never reform." Nathan snorted. "Dealt with enough of them to know."
“Guess you meet all sorts coming through security.”
"Like you wouldn't believe. Mostly decent folks just off on vacations or business trips, but the bad ones really stick in your mind."
“I can imagine…”
"But you don't want to hear about my work, I'd imagine. Boring stuff. Guessing if you had a chef working for you, you're a restaurant owner?"
“Can't be that boring if you have to deal with idiots like me on a daily basis,” Duke said. “Bar owner. Yeah, I know, great occupation for someone with a drinking problem.”
"Wouldn't have said it were ideal, no," Nathan said warily.
“Definitely not ideal. Belonged to a friend's family and after his parents died, followed not long after by his brother, he pretty much gave it to me. Couldn't really say no, can't sell it on. It's fine, most of the time, just been the past year that it's been a problem.”
"Hopefully having your daughter will give you something better to focus on."
“It will. It really will.”
"You'll be a great dad. You want to be, you're willing to put in the effort."
“Thanks, Nathan,” Duke said softly. “I didn't exactly have the greatest role models in the parenting department and I just...I want to do better by Jean, y'know?”
"Yeah. You will. Least your parents taught you what not to to. That's something."
“She deserves better than I got, that's for sure,” Duke said quietly.
"No kid deserves that. Every child deserves a good home, parents who love and take care of them."
“Yeah, they do.”
"That could have been me," Nathan found himself saying. Somehow the dark car, not having to look Duke in the face, made it easier to talk. "I was lucky. He ended up in jail, and a good man married my mom and took me in."
“That's good. I mean, I'm sorry you had to go through that in the first place but I'm really pleased it worked out that way.”
"Thanks," Nathan said quietly.
“God, we need some happier conversation. Wanna turn the music up, rock out a bit?”
"Sure," Nathan agreed, connecting his phone to the car stereo and starting his playlist.
Duke made a delighted sound. “Tune!” he almost shouted, turning the volume up.
Nathan chuckled at Duke's enthusiasm.
“Taught me how to walk this way, walk this way.” Duke happily sang along.
Nathan grinned, though he didn't sing along as well.
“Oh c'mon, at least nod your head a little, man, get into the groove, look, next chorus coming up…”
Nathan smirked, but at least nodded along to the rhythm.
“See? Much better. What else you got on this playlist?”
"Def Leppard, AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Aerosmith, Guns N' Roses, so on."
Duke grinned. “Good taste.”
"Thanks." Nathan smiled. "Nothing like the classics."
“Can't beat 'em.”
Nathan leaned back in his seat as they turned onto the freeway, taking a drink of his coffee and settling in for the long miles ahead.
“So you don't strike me as the most talkative guy, would you rather I just sit here quietly?”
"Don't mind you talking. Good company, plus it'll help me stay awake. Just don't be mad if I'm not as talkative. And don't feel you have to if you'd rather try to get some sleep."
“Why would I be mad?” Duke gave him a strange look.
"Some people get offended." Nathan shrugged. "Think you don't care or aren't listening, aren't putting any effort in or are hiding something."
“Some people are assholes. Quiet is fine with me.”
"Thanks," Nathan looked relieved.
“Thanks for doing this. Know you said you didn't have anything better to do but still. It, uh...it kinda feels like the only thing that's gone right for me in the past twelve months.”
"Couldn't let you get yourself killed trying to get down there."
“You didn't have to do all this though.”
"Yeah….don't really know why I am, be honest. Guess just going home didn't seem appealing."
“No one waiting for you at home?”
Nathan shook his head.
“What do you do with yourself when you're not at work? Books? Movies? Sports? Ballroom dancing?”
Nathan smiled a little. "My schedule's pretty irregular, so honestly most times I get off work, I just go home, get something in my stomach, and get what sleep I can, because odds are I'll need to report back in after that."
“Sounds pretty tough, long hours, not much down time.”
Nathan shrugged. "Someone's gotta do it. Actual terrorists are rare as hell, but there's all kinds of other shady stuff. People trying to smuggle shit onto planes, usually stolen goods, sometimes even live animals. People trying to escape the law. Tons of drugs."
“Get the feeling you're passionate about it. Or at least the people you can protect by doing it.”
"Yeah. Always wanted to save people." Nathan looked sad.
“In a different way to how you do now, you mean?”
"Something like that," Nathan mumbled.
“Ok,” Duke said slowly. “Things didn't quite work out how you hoped, huh?”
"No. I mean, life seldom does turn out how we plan. So I guess I have plenty of company…"
“Yeah, you do,” Duke said. He paused for a moment, then asked “so what was the plan that didn't work out?”
"Wanted to be a doctor," Nathan said quietly. "Couldn't hack med school. Knew enough to keep an eye on you and decide whether you needed to go to the hospital for alcohol poisoning or just wait it out, but...just wasn't good enough."
“No such thing as not good enough, just that people fit into different places, or suit different learning styles. Not everyone fits into the neat little box that the education system wants us to.”
Nathan shook his head. "Nice of you to say, but sometimes a person's just too stupid to learn something, and that was the case with me. Smart enough to be airport security, not smart enough to be a doctor."
“I've met a lot of stupid people and trust me, you're not one of them.”
Nathan looked over and gave him a small, sad smile. "You're a kind man. You'll be a great dad."
“Thanks but I'm not being kind, just honest.”
Nathan shrugged, not believing him.
“I'm not. How does that saying go? If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it'll spend its whole life believing it's stupid. There's different types of intelligence, there's learning difficulties, mental health difficulties, any number of reasons you might not have succeeded at med school. None of which are your fault, you were just expected to fit into the box.”
"Does it matter?" Nathan asked quietly. "A fish might not be stupid because it can't climb a tree, but it's still never going to build a treehouse."
“Yeah, it matters. Because with the right support, like, I dunno, if we're sticking with the fish analogy, some sort of land suit and mechanical limbs, it could build that treehouse.”
Nathan chuckled. "That's quite a mental image."
Duke laughed. “Yeah, it is, but you see my point.”
"I see your point, I just...don't know if it would ever matter for me."
“Well it definitely won't if you don't consider the possibility that you aren't stupid…”
"It's just a matter of practicality. Even if I was diagnosed with a learning disability and got some kind of learning disability scholarship, how am I going to go back to medical school when I work full time?"
“...Ok, you got me there. But at least stop telling yourself you're stupid.”
Nathan gave him a curious look. "Why would you care whether I think I'm stupid?"
“Because you're really hard on yourself and you shouldn't be.”
"Yeah, but I'm just some guy giving you a lift."
“Nah, you held my hair while I puked. I'm officially classing you as a friend now.”
Nathan chuckled. "Should wear a hair tie when you drink."
“If tomorrow goes well, it won't be an issue because I won't be drinking again. If it doesn't, I think a bit of puke in my hair's going to be the least of my worries.”
"I hope that they won't completely shut you out, even if they don't give you an even split."
“I'd be happy with holidays and every third weekend. Just want to be a part of her life, not some...not some nameless sperm donor she never wants to see.”
"I know. You want to be her dad. I hope you get that."
“So do I,” Duke said quietly.
"We can at least get you there on time, looking respectable to boot."
Duke nodded. “Could probably use a stop somewhere with a shower…”
Nathan nodded. "There'll be truck stops. We can stop in when we get close."
“Yeah. Thanks. You ok if I nap for a bit?”
"Yeah. I'll wake you if I need you to drive."
Duke nodded. “I'm a pretty light sleeper, probably best to say my name rather than touch me to wake me up.”
"Noted." Nathan nodded, turning the music down. "Need me to pull over so you can get in back, or have you got it?"
“I've got it,” Duke said, nimbly hopping over the seats into the back of the Bronco. “Sure you'll be ok? I can stay up and talk your ears off if that'd be better?”
"I'm good. Got plenty coffee, got something in my stomach, and I can put my earbuds in if I need to crank the tunes. More important for you to sleep it off."
“You're amazing,” Duke said softly, ruffling Nathan's hair before curling up under the blanket to nap.
Nathan blinked, then blushed at the touch.
Feeling that finally things might just be ok, that he had someone who was on his side for the first time in a very long time, Duke fell asleep.