2. ,,I'm not a monster''

Summary: Dsaf 3 good ending route, except after Davetrap gets bullied out of the restaurant, he sneaks back in and finds Henry's tapes. Dave has a fucking panic attack and Jack does his best to comfort. An attempt at hurt/comfort was made.

PS: I know that it's hinted that Henry's also possessed Jack in the good ending route (cue him saying that part of him has escaped the void), but I decided to avoid that theory here.

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It has been a WHILE since I wrote anything that could even be considered angst (that wasn't just straight up violence, at least), so bear with me here. I'm rusty.

Additionally, this is based of my own experiences, so it might not seem applicable to you, or the general public!

I don't like this one as much but, oh well, you're the one getting fed so you can't complain [pointing finger]

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It had been an especially rough day for Jack. Despite his better instincts tearing at his heart, he'd successfully outnumbered Davetrap and escorted him from his restaurant. So often had he wished that there was a way to mediate Davetrap and his counterpart that was stuck in the flipside, to simultaneously keep both parts of his beloved aubergine content. Although, much to his reluctance, giving even the slightest of confirmation to his feral side would open the dams withholding a river of blood. That, and he needed the undying man to fulfil his plan; his purpose.

He considered that, perhaps, it was selfish to scold the man over his intentions of murdering an infant, when taking in account that he had once been all too similar. While the blood on his hands had long washed off, his consciousness never did, and likely never would. Gone were the days where he truly had nothing left to loose, where taking Dave op on his offer seemed merely like an ecstatic high of fun. Occasionally, when his morals slipped on a drunken bender, he prayed with clasped hands for an opportunity to relive those times, somehow. On his knees, he would pray to a God he despised. It had been with Dave that he felt alive, that he felt anything, at all. Such a strong influence was great at convincing a soulless person like him, it was just that now; he had decided to keep true to the promise he swore to fulfil.

It were these vaguely pained thoughts that accompanied him as he headed for his security office after finally having closed down. Absentmindedly, he entered through the creaking door, expecting to be greeted by his employee. He quickly froze in his steps when he was instead faced with the back of a familiar withered suit, seated on the floor. Quickly, he prepared himself to give another speech as he set a foot steady to the floor, finding himself surprised when Davetrap didn't bother to turn around. It was then that he saw the filling cabinet he'd bought a month ago stand wide open, with several cassettes scattered across the floor between it and the murderer.

Oh. Oh, no.

Immediately, his alert posture softened, and every vengeful thought was replaced with one of sorry. He stepped closer, reading the label of the tape that was last placed in the recorder: Joy 4. It had gone silent, indicating that it had likely finished playing. As much he had intended to stay away from Davetrap, as much as he knew he had to do so, he couldn't bring himself to turn around and leave the man like this. In the end, he was just as much a victim of Henry as Jack was himself, even if his feral side wasn't aware of this. He knew Dave never fully knew of what Henry had done precisely, and he couldn't begin to phantom the impact of all he had just heard.

"Alright, let's put these away, shall we-?"

His voice was far calmer than when he last spoke to Davetrap, and he stepped closer to pick up the tapes. As he stored them back in the filing cabinet, a stifled sob was knocked out the man sat on the floor. Even the mere sound indicated his state: he was drowning.

Drowning in the words, drowning in all that he had just made himself listen to. All that he had clung on to for all those decades, that which he had used to keep himself afloat for the thirty years he was sealed away, crumbled before his eyes. It was a wave that washed over him, a wave so inhumanly massive and cold that there was no surface to escape to. There was only water; only harsh realisation to sink further into, there was only the opportunity to drown.

Jack sat beside him, a safe, but reassuring distance. Even with the suit functioning as his second skin, the tremble that ran through all his limbs was visible to the tangerine. His decaying fingers, intertwined in his lap, were as strained as his voice. Jack didn't know what to do, clueless as where to even start unpacking the scenery before him. When he first listened to the tapes, he barely knew how to react himself. He'd sat there, trying to comprehend the reality of the horrors Dave must have lived through, although lived wasn't the adequate word. Carefully, he lay a hand on Davetrap's shoulder:

"Dave, I-"

"You're going to abandon me! Y- You're goin' to leave me- Just- Just, like-"

He desperately tried to gasp for air, desperately tried to yell and scream, but there was only water that engulfed his lungs when he made an attempt to. Muddied water, a river which carried the blood of their victims, his very own included. There was no longer any indication of a surface, infinite depths were all that surrounded him. He made an attempt to breathe in, but the air never quite reached his lungs, and he instead exhaled a stifled, ragged, breath.

The jaw to Dave's suit unhinged, and the upper part of the head of it fell open with the sound of metallic whirring. Dave's face, the only part of his flesh that hadn't merged with steel springlocks, was now visible as he looked at Jack with hopelessly lost eyes. He was strained with tears, his eyes were puffy and his lip heavily quivered with each breath he couldn't swallow. Dave had always been the cheerier of the two, and for all Jack saw of him, he rarely ever had such a serious expression plastered across his face. It was heartbreaking to see, his soul so void of all the emotions that had once allowed it to repossess it's own decaying corpse.

"I'm- I'm a person, old sport... I- I promise, I-"

He reeled forward, a stream of heavy sobs that barely allowed him to breathe. Despite the fact that he hadn't needed oxygen to survive, Jack worried that he would start to hyperventilate sooner than later. In concern, he followed the Dave and lay his arm around his shoulders, which was a task considering the suit was awfully wide. He could only presume what Davetrap was experiencing was a panic attack, of sorts. The aubergines breathing was unsteady, and he only inhaled a deep sheering breath every few sobs. Barely loud enough to be audible, Jack could hear him speak a single coherent sentence:

"I'm not, a monster-"

He knew what Henry had said, he knew full well what Dave was referring to. And while he had to admit Dave was far from human, he was never a monster at his core, it had been Henry that planted it in him, that made him into one; his monster.

"You're not a monster Dave, you were just made to be one."

There was a hefty silence, in which his words radiated through the room, a singular light in the depths of an ocean, one that desperately swam to. He shifted, and suddenly two metallic arms wrapped around Jack's torso, nearly causing him to topple over. He sat himself against the wall of his office, holding the back of Dave's head as his face vanished in the crook of his shoulder. Beside him, he could hear the door creak open, accompanied by a familiar ring. Ensuring Dave wouldn't take notice, he waved for his employee to leave with a stern look across his face. The phone-man knew better than to question his boss, and was content to retreat from the scenery.

"Dave, listen- We're going to focus on your breathing, you're heaving like a damn dog..."

With his unoccupied hand, he gently stroke what once must have been a rich bush of hair. What remained were only few thin, malnourished, strands of deep aubergine. Before, Jack was the lager of the two, but with the suit Dave resided in he was far broader, making it hard to properly hold him. Despite the fact that he was close to crushing the orange, he let Davetrap cling to him if it meant it would keep him afloat. Jack pondered if, considerably, they could drown together, let it consume the both of them in a haze of emotion. He shook the thought, and spoke reassuringly:

"Alright, can you breathe in for me?"

It took a while for him to calm his sobs enough to even allow him to follow the command, a quivery inhale following when he finally managed. Jack could feel it against his skin; the shake of his body, the tension of his muscles and the pool of tears that had stained his suit.

"Now, exhale."

Jack gave an exemplification, hoping it would further ground the man that lay limp in his arms. He obliged and followed, although ragged and unsteady as could be.

"Good job Davey, can you do that again?"

Weakly, but prevalent enough to be noticeable, he nodded and drew another shaky inhale. Jack kept in sync, guiding him with the mere sound of his breath. In the murky, endless, ocean he had allowed himself to drown in; a faint light reached him and took his hand. Briefly the two floated together, isolated, so different yet so similar in situation. His body was pulled in a direction he presumed was the surface of this endless depth, a hand clasped around his own that guided him.

Initially he let himself be pulled; let himself by guided by this savoir, of sorts. Slowly, but certainly, he began to swim along: a kick of his feet, a whisk of his free arm and all else he felt could help. On occasion, he glanced down to bottomless void beneath him, a sight so overwhelming it would immediately trigger him to look back upward, where a distant light began to show. He hadn't consciously annotated it, but he had begun to swim on his own. Steadily, he broke to the surface, inhaling a welcome breath.

Jack had stopped taking deep breaths when he noticed Dave could maintain the rhythm on his own, and distressed crying seized into soft whimpering. He had broken through the surface. While the overwhelming aspect had vanished, it was arguably as depressing. The realisation of what made him sink so deep to begin with was all around him, there was no escaping the cause that was engraved in his soul. Although it didn't seem so overwhelming anymore; he couldn't unlearn Henry's words. He'd known bits and pieces, which he had never fully came to accept, but hearing it so directly was enough to cause a spiral. Hell, hearing Henry's voice alone made him recoil in his skin.

"Please don't leave me again, old sport."

His voice was so weak it almost surpassed Jack, who was still gently stroking his hair. If he had any more empathy left in him after his soul abandoned his body and took the majority of it, that sorrowful statement would have been enough to convince him to stick with Davetrap.

"I don't want to, Dave, but I can't go back to the way things were. And part of you knows that."

He wondered if his counterpart in the flipside could see this, curious as though if he was looking. Davetrap hugged him tighter, as if he was somehow aware this would likely be their last embrace in this realm. He knew Dave wished to go back to what they once were through the familiar cycle, and Jack trusted that this encounter would not intervene with his plan. This part of Dave's soul was devoted to Henry's work, and with this new detest towards it, all it would cling to was the anger it felt towards Jack for not wanting to restore the things the way they were. Who knew, they could've worked something out if Dave was more mediated, and could have accepted that they would be able to maintain a relationship without a trail of dead children behind them. But he couldn't, maybe because the remnants of his soul simply weren't able to.

"Can we, at least, stay like this for a little longer-?"

Dave sniffled, his voice low and seemingly defeated: he would harbour the closeness for as long as Jack would allow him to. The tangerine reluctantly agreed, repositioning himself to better hold Davetrap, and a silence embraced them. Now, a fair amount of individuals would argue that silence was a hefty concept, in fact, one of two in the room quickly came to this realisation. It was then that you had nothing but your thoughts to over-analyse, a void without distraction from the impending doom. Thinking back on the words Henry had said, a faint sob was straddled from him. Jack was quick to take note, already having a distraction on hand:

"Hey, aubergine, I don't think I ever told you my real name?"

"Wasn't it something, like, Demonic Infant or somethin'?" [This is the name I use in-game, get with it.]

As ridiculous as he sounded, no further cries emerged from him. He readjusted his head so that he was laying on Jack's shoulder, able to his face from the corner of his eye. In turn, the tangerine gently leaned his head against the other.

"No, obviously not! That's an alibi, you're not that dense, right?"

The lighthearted tone Jack spoke in seemed more than effective, managing to knock a genuine giggle out of Dave. The smile on his tear stained face was heartwarming.

"In retrospect, no- But then, what is your name, old sport?"

"It's Jack, Jack Kennedy."

"Hm- I think, I've heard that name before..."

For an abbreviated second, Jack considered unloading everything right there. Telling him about who he was, about being framed for his own sister's murder, about the endless misery Dave and Henry had brought upon him.

"It is a common name, I suppose."

Davetrap had already endured enough, he decided. He was as much a victim of Henry as he was himself, and it would only send him spiralling further down. Along with that, it could further intervene with his plans, and Davetrap's role in them. His counterpart was already told, and the genuine apologetic reaction he had gotten then was enough for him. Dee and Dave had made a peace, although it could barely count as such when you took their bickering in consideration, and there was no need to further torment additional parts of his soul.

"Mine's William, although-"

His breath halted, and Jack knew what he was thinking about. They'd listened to the same tapes, which very clearly mentioned his genuine name. Even with him telling Jack about it, he had already heard.

"William, Dave... You'll always be aubergine-man to me."

Maybe Jack was better at this whole 'comforting' thing that he initially thought, because the airy laugh that came from Davetrap was the most genuine he had heard escape himself in a long while. It was nice, reminiscing in solicited closeness in such a manner as this, even if it would be short lasted. He let out a heavy breath, a calm one none the less. The both, in the back of their heads, wondered what would become of them when this situation would eventually have to come to an end. If Jack's plan went accordingly, he knew that the answer was nothing but ashes, but Davetrap was left to wonder.

Between them was the weighing knowledge of the temporary. This couldn't last, even if it was the last they would ever get. There wouldn't be an opportunity to speak like this again, which increased the pressure to say what they had never spoken. Yet, simultaneously, it was this very pressure that silenced them both. What really was a waterfall of emotions and confessions, when it wouldn't matter in the end, when they already had each other for the time being?

"It was nice to have known you Dave, and nothing can erase that."

And with that, Jack had said enough. Considerably, it was really all Dave -no, William- had needed to hear. This was more truthful than any teary love confession, than the unspoken words both would take to their grave. The mutual appreciation was all that really mattered between them. The aforementioned tensed silence was replace with a more comfortable one, in fact, one so comfortable Jack eventually began to close his eyes and daze off. His sleep schedule wasn't an ideal one, to say the least.

He didn't fully fall asleep at any point, but he made it look trustworthy enough for Davetrap to eventually step off him. His eyes kept shut, and he continued with his act as he listened to the other's movements. It was easier this way, is all that could really be said about it. Jack had already put his plan in enough danger by comforting the aubergine, and a sappy farewell could very well turn either of them around. A goodbye would come later, and for now this was enough for the both of them. They were content, and Davetrap left without another word.

Jack sat there, so many thoughts racing through his head, yet so little coherent. He felt no need to remove himself from the floor, and for an unknown amount of time he stared at the filling cabinet. He placed trust in Davetrap to be equally as angry: he trusted him to come back with the lost souls, to fulfil his plan. The feral side of Dave was predictable, and he knew this wouldn't intervene. It was his employee, storming through the door, that finally made him pick himself up from the tiled floor.

"Sir-! Are you alright?! I- I just saw that rabbit walk out, did he...?"

He was worried, rightfully so. Jack readjusted his suit and stood up straight, fixing his eyes on the phone-headed employee.

"Nothing's happened, employee."

Spoke Jack, with a stern voice. The best way to deal with the emotions that pestered him, was to push them back and ignore their existence. It was what he had always done.

"Well, alright, then, let's have it!"

Jack unzipped his pants in response.

"Okay, no, put that away."

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That same day on the flipside, late into the night, he could see it on Dave's face immediately. He stood beside Dee and Steven confidently as they explained where they would be going next, but he could read it on his face. It was a bittersweet expression of stark contrast, but he gently smiled to Jack whenever he got the opportunity. He nodded back in response, and the both understood all that wasn't said. Unsure what exactly Dave had seem through his counterpart's eyes, he presumed it was more than what was good for him, judging by the sleepless look on his face. He was certain Dee and Steven couldn't hear it in his voice, but he did; he noticed the soft shake when he spoke about how much he loved tinkering. What would have become if him, if he'd had a regular childhood, an education?

Later, when they walked through ever changing halls, Dave ended up behind with Jack. Ahead of them, Dee had stricken conversation with Steven about the phone guy AI, and she was eagerly questioning if the preference for Foxy was programmed. It was nice to hear her genuine laugh when Steven stuttered about his beloved fox, it warmed what was left of his heart. He had taken Dave's hand a while back, and he looked up at the aubergine when he squeezed it a little too harsh to be involuntary.

"Thank you, Jack."

The use of his real name, rather than the everlasting nickname, made him return the squeeze instinctively. Their void eyes stared back at each other, and Jack felt his heart ache at the thought of having to leave this idiot of a man again. He nodded, gently, reassuringly, at Dave:

"Let's set things right, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And just then, he saw a flash of genuine happiness on Dave's face.

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[3503 words]

Remember that one Dogman post that went: "Jack was hard throughout the entirety of dsaf 3, we just couldn't see because it was in first person."? Now let that sink in, and reread this entire thing with it in the back of your mind.

Leave requests or ideas or anything please !!