Archive of Our Own ^beta

Jax had declared the day a personal triumph the moment he woke up.

No alarms, no professors, no deadlines gnawing at his skull. Just a blissfully empty schedule stretching ahead of him like a lazy cat in the sun.

He stayed in bed longer than he’d ever admit, cocooned in his blankets, staring at the ceiling as though daring it to challenge his authority as King of Doing Absolutely Nothing.

The apartment was quiet in a way it rarely was. Ragatha had left early, Pomni too, and Zooble stomped out with something muttered about overtime.

Kinger drifted after them with his usual distracted hum.

By ten thirty, Jax was alone.

Gloriously and irresponsibly alone.

He rolled out of bed not because he wanted to but because his stomach had begun a protest movement. The kitchen greeted him with cold tiles, sunbeams, and the faint scent of Ragatha’s morning tea.

He snagged cereal, eating it dry like an absolute gremlin, then wandered back to his room with a fistful balanced precariously in one hand.

His sanctuary was exactly how he liked it. Posters pinned to the walls, game controllers tangled on his desk, a lazy river of hoodies flowing off the edge of his bed.

He collapsed backward into the blankets with his cereal perched on his stomach, scrolling absently through his phone.

Memes, news, and assignments he was definitely ignoring. It was all background noise to the simple rhythm of a day with no responsibilities.

Somewhere down the hall, the apartment settled with a faint creak. Pipes, probably.

His phone slipped from his fingers as he yawned, repositioning himself into the perfect nap posture. One leg off the blanket, one arm under the pillow.

Another quiet clatter echoed from the hallway.

He didn’t move, not his problem. He closed his eyes again.

Then something heavier thumped. Not a soft clumsy drop. More like… a body hitting the floor.

His eyelids cracked open.

He froze, then smirked. It came from the room beside his, that meant it was Gangle, cartoonish clumsiness incarnate, nothing new.

He didn’t move. Why would he? Ragatha would go running in there in a heartbeat, soothing words at the ready, probably before he could even blink.

And the others? Kinger, Pomni, Zooble, they’d all be on top of it too, fussing and hovering. No point getting involved.

But then a flicker of realization hit him. None of them were home.

The apartment was eerily quiet. It was working hours so basically everyone in the apartment that was employed was out.

Which was everyone except him and Gangle.

That meant he was the closest thing to “fussing and hovering” in the building right now.

He groaned, rolling out of bed with a reluctant heaviness. “Great,” he muttered. “Of course it’s gotta be me.”

And as he trudged toward the hallway, hoodie half-zipped and patience half-loaded, he already knew this peaceful morning had just been sacrificed to Gangle’s catastrophic existence.

He stopped at her door, listening. Another thump followed by a sharp clatter, like something hitting the floor and sliding across the wood.

“Really?” he whispered, voice low and a little annoyed. His hands tugged at the hem of his hoodie.

“This is exactly why I avoid this room. Why—why does she even live here?”

He peeked around the corner, hesitating. The door was closed, but faint noises and a soft thud came from inside. Jax swallowed.

For a long, stubborn moment, he debated going back to his room, pretending he hadn’t heard anything.

He could just ignore it. She was clumsy, probably fine, just… dramatic. He could deal with the aftermath later if he had to.

Another crash, louder this time, cut through the apartment. Something fell against the wall. Then, a strangled yelp.

That yelp did it.

Jax’s chest tightened. He cursed under his breath, reluctantly shoving the door open. The creak of the hinges seemed unbearably loud in the silence of the apartment.

“Jeez Saddy, keep it down will ya?” His voice was rough, laced with the irration that terrified her.

The room was a mess. Papers scattered across the floor, a small chair on its side, and in the center, Gangle perched awkwardly on the edge of her bed, one ankle twisted underneath her. Her face scrunched up, trying not to cry, hands gripping the blanket for support.

“Ah— Jax?! This is not I—"Her voice was small, almost defeated.

Jax blinked, stomach knotting. He’d expected clumsiness, sure, but… this? She looked fragile, hurt, and completely unable to reach her phone across the floor.

“Sit still.” He almost barked, though the word came out tighter than he intended.

He caught himself and sighed, then crouched beside her, evaluating her ankle. “Don’t… uh… don’t try to get up yet. Yeah?”

Jax cringed a little, he was never one to intentionally lower his voice.

She nodded, biting her lip. The fear in her eyes wasn’t new, he’d seen it about a hundred times before. Jax exhaled sharply, kneeling fully beside her.

Jax froze for a heartbeat, then, like a reflex he couldn’t quite stop, bent down. He could see it in her eyes, the fright.

“J-Jax, what are you d—?!” Gangle’s voice cracked as she flailed slightly, trying to push herself upright, only to wince sharply.

Her small frame trembled, and he realized, too late. that she had braced herself, expecting a shove, a push, some flash of the familiar version of him she’d known.

"Stop— S-Stop!" She squeeze her eyes shut pushing at whatever was in front of her, which just so happened to be Jax's face.

"Ow—"

Jax paused, hovering with his hands just under her arms.

Then the weight of realization filled his chest heavily.

She thought he was going to torment her.

His brow furrowed as he felt another shove coming towards his neck. “Hey— wait wait wait! Jesus— Okay, okay. Don’t… don’t freak.”

He placed her down and gave a small step back, enough to give her space. He raised his hands in the air as if in surrender

“I’m… I’m not gonna hurt you. Geez, chill.”

Gangle’s chest heaved with shallow breaths, and she slowly sank into the space he’d made.

Jax exhaled, muttering under his breath. “Sheesh… always on edge.”

He squared himself, bending carefully to lift her. The weight was minimal. Ridiculously minimal.

He blinked down at her and couldn’t resist a faint smirk. “Wow. You’re… ridiculously light.”

“L-Light?” Gangle squeaked, her voice tiny.

“Yeah, Stringbeans. Seriously, are you just bones and tears or…?” He adjusted her in his arms, careful not to jostle her twisted ankle.

Gangle wriggled slightly, embarrassed. Her hands gripped his sweatshirt tentatively, still unsure. “Wh-where are we going?”

“The couch,” he said plainly. “Closer to the first aid kit. Duh. Can’t exactly treat a twisted ankle on the floor, can we?”

Gangle hesitated, looking down at the mess of papers and the fallen chair. “I… I didn’t mean to… I was just going to get my phone from the charger…”

Jax huffed softly, one side of his mouth quirking up. “Of course. That’s how it always is. You just reach for your stupid phone, and suddenly it’s a full-blown disaster zone.”

His hand absently poked at the top of her messy hair. “And what’s this? Did you roll around in a tornado too? Or is this just your natural disaster style?”

Gangle buried her face slightly against his chest, mumbling, “I… I didn’t… it’s fine…”

“Fine? You sprain an ankle for your phone, and that’s fine?” He muttered, voice rough, almost exasperated, ut the corners of his lips twitched. “Classic! You’re impossible.”

Gangle hesitated before finally saying, “I… I thought you were at college today.” Her tone was small, anxious, the tiniest hint of curiosity under the worry.

Jax’s arms shifted slightly, carrying her a little more securely. “Nah. Lecture got canceled this morning. Free day. Lucky for you, huh?” He let a small smirk tug at his lips, though he kept his voice casual, almost teasing. “Otherwise, you’d be lying there wailing until someone rescued the damsel in distress.”

Gangle blinked, a faint warmth creeping into her cheeks. “Oh… I see.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at him. “So… you’re here by chance.”

Jax shrugged lightly, adjusting his hold so her ankle didn’t twist further. “Yeah. By chance, fate, whatever you wanna call it.” His tone was blunt, but there was a careful softness beneath it.

Gangle bit her lip but nodded obediently, her small hands clutching at his hoodie lightly. She trusted him, cautiously, but she trusted him enough to stop bracing herself.

"Now, down on the couch… there.” He lowered her as if setting down a sack of potatoes, arranging pillows behind her back. “Perfect. Now, stay put. I’ve got this... Probably... Maybe."

Jax glanced over at Gangle.

“And stop staring at me like I’m about to eat you or something. Keep your eyes up, alright?”

She glanced up at him, wide-eyed but relieved. “Y-you… you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Jax snorted, brushing a strand of her hair from her forehead. “If anything's mad its the floor you attacked earlier."

Her small smile was faint but genuine, and he couldn’t stop the brief, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his own lips.

Jax came back from the bathroom with the first aid kit under one arm and a cup of water balanced in his hand, moving like someone who very much did not want to admit he was being careful. He set both down on the coffee table with more force than necessary.

“Alright,” he said, crouching in front of the couch. “Let’s see the damage.”

Gangle hesitated before lifting her foot onto the cushion. The ankle was already swelling, the joint angry and red beneath pale skin. Jax winced despite himself.

“Wow,” he muttered. “You really went all in, huh."

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately, the word tumbling out on instinct. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult— I can still walk! I think... I just need a minute—"

"No walking. That’s how you make it worse, ya dummy.”

He snapped open the kit, rifling through gauze and wraps with a confidence that was mostly theater. His hands hovered for a second before he touched her ankle, fingers gentle despite the sarcasm still clinging to his voice.

“Tell me if it hurts." he said.

“It already does." Gangle murmured, but she nodded.

The apartment was quiet except for the soft tear of tape and Gangle’s uneven breathing. She watched him, expression unreadable, then finally spoke.

“…Why are you being nice to me?”

The question landed heavier than it should have.

Jax snorted without looking up. “Nice? I'm always nice."

“I mean,” she continued, voice careful, “You didn’t yell, you didn’t leave. You didn’t… make jokes about me falling over...?”

His hands stilled for half a second. He tightened the wrap just a bit more than necessary, then loosened it again.

“Wow." he said lightly. “The bar is underground, huh?”

She flinched, then looked away. “I wasn’t complaining! Or anything— I just— I thought you’d be annoyed.”

“I am annoyed,” Jax said quickly. He leaned back on his heels, waving a hand. “You wiped out like a cartoon character and nearly knocked yourself unconscious during my glorious laze day. That’s pretty annoying.”

Gangle glanced back at him, uncertain. “But… you’re still here.”

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes. “Yeah, well. Somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t try to walk it off and collapse again. I don’t need your wailing as background music.”

Her fingers twisted in the hem of her sleeve. “You could’ve just called someone.”

“And wait twenty minutes while you sit there crying?” He scoffed. “Please. I’m not that heartless.”

She blinked. “You just said—”

“I say a lot of things,” he cut in, standing abruptly. He grabbed the cup of water and shoved it gently into her hands. “Drink. Hydration. It’s a thing.”

She obeyed, sipping carefully, eyes still on him over the rim. “You’re keep doing that thing... deflecting."

Jax froze.

Then he laughed, short and sharp. “Wow. Look at you, suddenly a psychology major. Thought you dropped out.”

“I didn’t mean it badly!" she said quickly. “I just… I don’t understand.”

“Good,” he said, too casually. He turned away, busying himself with re-sealing the first aid kit. “Because there’s nothing to understand. You got hurt. I helped. End of story.”

He glanced back at her, softer despite himself. “Don’t read into it, Ribbons. You’ll give yourself a headache on top of that sprain.”

She nodded slowly, not convinced, but she didn’t press.

He’d already finished wrapping Gangle’s ankle, already shoved the first aid kit back under the table, already told himself that this was handled.

Yet he stayed, arms crossed, weight shifting from heel to toe like the room itself had become mildly uncomfortable.

Gangle sat curled into the corner of the couch, pillow tucked against her side, ankle elevated just like he’d ordered.

The TV murmured something forgettable in the background, colors flickering.

Jax cleared his throat.

“Also…” he said, staring at the far wall. “About uh… the other day… and earlier.”

The words came out rough, scraped together like he’d pulled them out of a place he didn’t visit often.

Gangle turned her head slightly. “Hm? What day?”

He scoffed immediately, tension snapping back into place like a rubber band. “Just… ugh—nevermind.” He waved a hand, dismissive, then paused, jaw tightening.

“If I ever scare you or hurt you, you can just uhh…”

He glanced at her, then away again.

“Punch me. Or something.”

The room went very still.

Gangle blinked, clearly processing. Her fingers tightened around the pillow, then relaxed. She didn’t laugh, but she didn’t flinch either.

“…Okay...” she said softly.

Jax nodded too fast, as if that settled everything. He reached for humor like it was a life raft.

“Not that it’d hurt or anything,” he added, smirk creeping back in. “Your wrists look like they’d snap.”

He reached out without thinking, wrapping a finger loosely around her wrist, more demonstrative than rough. His touch was light, careless in the way he usually was when he didn’t expect consequences.

Gangle looked down at his finger around her wrist.

Then up at his face.

And smiled.

She pulled her arm back just enough to get leverage and lightly punched him in the face.

It wasn’t hard. Barely a tap, really. More symbolic than anything. Her knuckles brushed his cheekbone with all the force of a hesitant thought.

Jax reeled back anyway, clutching his face dramatically. “Ow—! Hey! I thought I was the violent one!"

“Y... You said I could!" she replied, still smiling, a quiet confidence threading her voice.

He peeked at her through his fingers, then huffed out a laugh before he could stop himself.

He dropped his hand, rubbing his cheek even though it clearly didn’t hurt. The grin lingered a second too long before he wiped it away with a practiced shrug.

“See? Totally survivable.” he said.

Gangle shifted slightly, settling deeper into the couch. The tension that usually sat between them had loosened, not gone, but uncoiled enough to breathe. She watched him with something like curiosity instead of fear.

“…Thank you,” she said after a moment. “For the help... And for… saying that.”

He stiffened again, just a fraction.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Don’t get used to it.”

He turned back toward the kitchen, busying himself with grabbing the ice pack he’d forgotten earlier, because movement was safer than stillness. He tossed it gently onto her lap.

“Swelling control,” he said. “Hold it there. Fifteen minutes on, fifteen off. Basic stuff.”

She nodded obediently, adjusting it over her ankle. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Unfortunately,” he replied. “I grew up around... Nevermind."

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed again, gaze flicking back to her despite himself. She was calmer now. Shoulders relaxed. No flinching when he moved.

Good.

“That punch earlier?” he added casually. “You pull that on Ragatha when she's mad and you’re dead.”

She smiled wider this time. “You say that like it's from experience."

“It is.” He smirked, then yawned, stretching his arms over his head like none of this mattered. “Alright, you haven't cried once, I’d call that a win.”

And when the silence settled again.

Jax pretending he was only there to make sure she didn’t try anything stupid while totally not touching the spot on his cheek where her punch had landed, still warm in a way that had nothing to do with pain.