Work Text:
Spider slurred his words so much that even he wasn’t sure what he’d just tried to say. He was on all fours, crawling towards the toilet. This sucked. His head was spinning, bile burned his throat, and panic clawed its way around his insides.
Quaritch watched on from the doorway, his expression pinched. He had no idea how this had even happened - Spider had got drunk one evening, yes, but he’d thought that was the end of it. He didn’t think Spider would try again. The kid had snuck off and procured who knew how much alcohol from who knew where - he was tenacious.
The kid was paying for it now. Quaritch winced as Spider retched over the toilet, and the sounds of splashing filled the room. Great, the kid had missed. Sick was all down his chest, dripping onto his belt and loincloth. Jesus . He waited until the kid stopped heaving, then crossed the bathroom to pick Spider up - carefully avoiding getting himself covered in sick too. “It’s okay, kid,” he sighed, rubbing Spider’s back.
Spider groaned in his arms. “Whass’ rong w'me?” he slurred, bringing a clammy hand up to his forehead.
Quaritch rolled his eyes as he carried his son like a sack of potatoes to one of the spare bunk rooms on the ship. He pressed the button on his communicator to tell Lyle to bring them a spare pair of clothes from Quaritch’s pack.
“S'not funny…” Spider groaned again, and Quaritch felt the boy convulse in another retch. He quickly adjusted his hold so that Spider could vomit away from Quaritch if he needed. However, nothing more came up.
“I’m not laughing, kid.”
Spider looked terrible. He’d obviously overdone it big time. If Quaritch had to guess, he’d say a simple case of alcohol poisoning. He’d have to sit with Spider till morning - there was no way he could risk falling asleep outside with his mask on, and even inside the ship the kid was in imminent danger of choking on his own vomit.
Spider whined in his arms, and Quaritch noticed the feel of the kid’s skin had turned cold and sweaty. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Spider’s head, knowing the kid would have zero memory of this in the morning. A whimper escaped Spider’s mouth.
They got to the room, and Quaritch laid Spider down gently on one of the lower bunks. A moment later, Wainfleet arrived with a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt. Quaritch muttered his thanks, and Wainfleet disappeared without lingering. Quaritch knew Lyle would have stayed, if he had asked him, but also recognised that Lyle was letting him have this moment privately with his incapacitated son. Quaritch didn’t need witnesses, and it was a sign of their friendship that Wainfleet understood this.
Quaritch picked up a hand towel from the bathroom attached to the room, and wet it under the sink. “I’m just wiping away your sick,” he told Spider, even though the kid was totally beyond understanding. He pressed the cloth over Spider’s mouth, neck and chest, removing the worst of it. Spider’s eyes occasionally fluttered open, but for the most part he was passed out.
Quaritch unfolded the shirt Lyle had brought - dark navy and at least 3 sizes too big for Spider, with a Spider Man image on the front. He had to hand it to Janine. The woman had some genius ideas.
He gently pulled it over Spider’s head and pulled his weak arms through the holes. Now he turned his attention to the sweatpants. Hm. He didn’t want to invade Spider’s privacy, but his Na'vi attire was also wet with sick. He methodically worked Spider’s legs into the pants and only untied the loincloth once he was fully covered. Jesus. Quaritch deserved Dad of the Year award.
He grabbed a cup from the shelf above the sink and filled it with tap water. “Son, can you drink this?” he pressed the cup against Spider’s lips. Spider’s eyes opened minutely. His pupils found Quaritch, and his mouth pulled into the tiniest smile. Quaritch seized the opportunity and tipped a few drops of water onto Spider’s tongue. “Swallow that down…” he encouraged, one hand on the back of Spider’s head. “There you go…”
“Dn’t… leave…” the boy slurred, unexpectedly appearing to come out of his haze for a moment.
Quaritch stared at his son.
Shock rippled through him at Spider’s plea. It was obviously the alcohol talking. But the fact remained - Spider in this vulnerable state felt safe with Quaritch.
Safe.
Could Spider know that Quaritch would stay with him as long as he needed? Could he know that he’d already accepted having to spend the night in this tiny human sized room just to watch over him?
How could Quaritch plan on leaving him? His job was to protect. “Never.” He said slowly, fixed on Spider’s now closed eyes. He rolled the kid onto his side, pulled a blanket over his shoulders and ran his hand down Spider’s arm, leaning over him and whispering, “I’m here, kid.”
The lack of response told Quaritch that Spider had passed out again, for which he was grateful. He knew the feeling of overdoing it on alcohol - the boy was going through it right now.
Quaritch sat on the floor, his back resting against Spider’s bed, too big to be comfortable in any other position. As he listened to Spider’s steady breathing, he mulled over what this meant for the morning. How would Spider react to the hangover? Would he take it out on the world, or would he suffer in silence? He thought he knew the answer.
He’d have to talk to the kid. Spider couldn’t keep doing this. How he was getting the alcohol, Quaritch had no idea, but he suspected it had something to do with Ian Garvin. He added grilling the science guy to his agenda for the morning. What concerned Quaritch more was the fact that Spider felt the need to keep returning to the poison. The kid’s life wasn’t great, Quaritch would grant him that. From the sounds of it, he’d been raised by shitty people who didn’t give a damn about him, finding solace in a different family to which he didn’t belong. And God, the Sullys of all people. The thought that Quaritch’s own murderer was probably a formative figure in the boy’s life made his blood boil.
So it really was no surprise that Spider had it tough.
Then of course, there was the awkward fact that Spider still felt kidnapped by the RDA, which was only partly true. Ardmore had been too hard on him, sure, but Spider was so resilient - he’d bounced back better than Quaritch could have expected. The problem was that Spider still blamed Quaritch for those deeds, and saw him as a member of the enemy.
After this was all done, and Sully was dead, Quaritch couldn’t wait to spend more time with Spider properly. He’d wanted to show and teach him things ever since he first started talking to him. He wanted to read Spider Dr Seuss, tell him all about Earth, about Paz… about his home.
There would be time for that.
He turned around to check Spider one more time before resting his head back against the side of the bed and closing his eyes, keeping his ears pinned open.
******
He was woken by the sound of Wainfleet’s brisk knock on the door, calling his name. “Boss?”
Quaritch cleared his throat, shaking his head to clear his daze, before standing to open the door.
Quaritch had not slept well. He’d jerked himself awake what felt like every half an hour, petrified he’d wake up to find Spider lifeless and unresponsive. He knew he was being paranoid - but that was his kid. His kid who had an alcohol problem, who could so easily choke on his own vomit and then that would be the end of it. So Quaritch hadn’t permitted himself to fall asleep, and cursed his over-tired body wherever it pulled him under.
Lyle ducked under the doorframe and entered the room cautiously, taking a seat next to Quaritch on the floor. “You get any sleep?” he asked.
Quaritch gave him a look which spoke the answer clearly. “How’s the squad?”
“All groovy Colonel. Itching to get out there though.”
Sunlight had started to stream into the dorm, casting the space around them in a warm glow, illuminating the dust particles that floated between the recoms. Quaritch heaved a sigh. This time last month, he’d have been feeling exactly the same. Stuck on a ship with not much to do for prolonged periods of time was enough to drive anyone mad. But now? He couldn’t seem to muster the same desire to see active combat everyday.
He had Spider, and was far more interested in remaining with the sulky teenager than running into a battle that wasn’t truly his.
Not that he could voice any of this to anyone.
Wainfleet however was different. He felt like Lyle had always seen him for who he was. The man had a special ability to see through Quaritch’s walls in a way that nobody else could. He was doing it now. Quaritch could tell by the knowing look in his eyes, and the framing of his eyebrows around them.
“Hmph,” Quaritch grunted.
Wainfleet didn’t press the matter, instead turning the topic to Spider. “Kid still breathing then?”
“Jesus Lyle, he’s going to be the death of me.”
Wainfleet huffed a laugh. “You’re not alone in feeling that type of way. The rest of the guys all really care about him. It’s why they sent me down to check on you both.”
Quaritch joined Lyle in looking over at Spider, who was still totally passed out, lying in the same recovery position Quaritch placed him in hours ago. He looked so… innocent when he was asleep. Quaritch barely got to see him so peaceful without his mask on.
Surely if Spider could find peace, he could too.
“He’s a good kid,” he said.
“Handful though,” Wainfleet added with a teasing grin.
“Eh,” replied Quaritch, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s got spunk, and who can blame him?” He’d got that from Paz.
They weren’t bothering to keep their voices down, and Spider shifted in his sleep.
“I checked the cases earlier and there’s no more missing beers. Did he tell you how he got the drinks?” Wainfleet frowned, perplexed.
“No, but I can’t wait to shake down Garvin later. He’s not getting it from us, which means the ship needs to lock up their supplies better.” It was clear from his tone exactly what Quaritch thought of a ship that allowed unaccompanied minors to just walk in and take what they fancied. And a known hostage as well. He added Scoresby to the list of people to dress down today. What kind of an operation was this?
A small groan from the bed pulled Quaritch away from his anger.
Spider was pressing his face into the sheets - Quaritch and Wainfleet watched on to see if he’d wake. After a moment, the boy blinked his eyes groggily open.
“Morning kid,” Quaritch smiled.
“How you feeling hot shot?”
A groan was all the response they got. Lyle looked at Quaritch and both men chuckled lightly.
“Breakfast is closing soon,” Lyle addressed Quaritch. “Do you think he’s up to it? I can take him if you need to catch up on sleep.”
Quaritch looked at Spider, who had hidden his face in his pillow, not quite awake, but surely coming round. The recom was exhausted, but he had matters to deal with first. He heaved a sigh before standing awkwardly in the too-small room. “Could you watch him for ten?”
Wainfleet nodded, and Quaritch disappeared out of the door.
Spider remained with his head buried under his bedding, so Lyle rested his head back against the wall. It wasn’t long before the Colonel returned.
“That bastard Garvin left his cans in the mess fridge,” he announced upon arrival.
“Figures.”
Quaritch crossed to Spider’s bed. “I know you’re awake, Spider.” Nothing. “It ain’t gonna get better by stewing in it. You need to drink something. And then eat.” Lyle grabbed the water bottle he’d brought down with him for this exact purpose, and chucked it at Quaritch, who caught it nimbly and placed a hand on Spider’s shoulder. The boy wriggled under the touch, gingerly bringing his head out from the sheet, opening his eyes blearily. He looked like shit - a moody teenager, yet also ten years younger than he was. It made Quaritch pause in his tracks.
“Drink,” Wainfleet commanded from across the room.
Spider squinted against the bright sunlight flooding the room. “Eugh…” he groaned, his voice dry and hoarse. He accepted the bottle from Quaritch and took small sips, resting his head back against the wall. “Fuck this,” he muttered through closed eyes.
Wainfleet chuckled. “Yep,” he chided. “Wanna drink that much again in a hurry?”
Spider moaned again, reaching out for Quaritch suddenly. He found the recom’s arm, looking as though he was about to be sick again.
“He’s still drunk,” Quaritch realised, looking at Wainfleet in panic.
Wainfleet returned the look with the most reassuring expression he could muster. “He’ll be okay, let’s just get some food in him - fastest way to sober him up.”
Quaritch turned to Spider. “Spider. Get up, now. We are going to the mess and you are eating breakfast.”
“Pfft…” Spider let out, clearly unhappy with this plan. “Wanna s-stay… here…”
“Ain’t happening.” And with that, Quaritch dragged Spider out of bed and attempted to stand the boy up, but Spider swayed where he stood.
This was going to be a long day.
Spider was breathing very deeply, obviously trying to repress the need to vomit. He wasn’t going anywhere on his own two feet. Quaritch sighed and picked the boy up, slinging him gently over his chest, wary that he could receive an unpleasant gift from the boy down his back at any moment. “Don’t you dare vomit on me,” he muttered.
Spider slurred something incomprehensible as Wainfleet followed them out of the room. Soldiers passed them in the corridor, all eyeing the trio with amazed looks, pressing themselves against the walls to allow them to pass. Lyle narrowed his eyes at the lot of them and pressed his ears back threateningly at the first sign of disrespect. When they got to the mess, Quaritch deposited Spider on a chair at one of the tables, and left him with Lyle while he picked up a tray.
“Sit up, kid,” murmured Wainfleet, gently pushing Spider up when the kid started to slump against him.
“When’ss this… g’nna end?” Spider moaned.
Wainfleet grimaced. “It’ll pass. Faster if you eat something. Kid, what made you do it?”
Quaritch came over with food and sat next to them.
“Dunno…” Spider began. “Guess I w’nted t’forget…”
“Forget what?” Quaritch said through a frown.
Spider took his time answering. Both because he wasn’t capable of high-speed functioning right now, and he didn’t know how to reply anyway. “Just… Jake, Kiri… you guys… it’s-s a lot…”
Quaritch’s eyes flickered to Wainfleet, assessing whether the corporal had understood this anymore than he had. It didn’t look like it. “Why would you want to forget us, Spider?”
Spider leant forward on the table, his head in his hands. “You’re n-not what I was s’pecting.” He paused, but the recoms either side of him said nothing. “Y’r… nice…”
Damn.
Quaritch placed his hand on his son’s back. Obviously, the alcohol was talking, but Spider’s words still touched him.
“Y’look after me,” Spider finished off.
“But why do you want to forget that?”
Even with his head hidden, Quaritch could see the boy grimace. “Fuck,” the kid exclaimed. “I’m s-still drunk…”
“Come on kid, don’t wuss out on us now!” Wainfleet interjected some humour. Both recoms were hanging off his every word. “Why d’you wanna forget we’re nice?”
“Cuz… you’re nicer.”
Wainfleet frowned, Spider’s elaboration not computing. But Quaritch thought he understood. They were nicer. Nicer than what Spider had ever known before. Nicer than the Sullys, or whatever crappy excuse for parents he’d been dealt. The recoms were the nicest people Spider had experienced. Jesus.
“Eat your food,” Quaritch said quietly, pushing the tray towards Spider.
Wainfleet looked at him, still confused, but Quaritch didn’t need to push the subject any further. He understood. He understood, and his heart bled for Spider. This kid, who had never known kindness like this, who had never had anybody looking out for him - protecting him - it was going to be Quaritch’s undoing.
Quaritch stayed with Spider while he ate, and Lyle departed some time after to check the plans for the day with Scoresby. The two said nothing more to each other as Spider slowly forced himself to eat.
Was Spider warming to him? Was he developing more than just cold hard resentment? Quaritch stared at Spider as he mulled the answers to the questions around in his brain. If it came to it, would Spider make a choice between his old life and a life with Quaritch? Was he in with a shot? It was a hypothetical scenario - he had no intention of letting Spider go - but knowing that Spider would choose him would mean more than Quaritch could comprehend.
Could it possibly be?