#Craigbert | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ddaddsprompts · 6 years

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One day too late because I forgot I hadn't uploaded the last chapter yet, my bad!

Finally I can reveal who the story is for... if I hadn't deleted the email that told me the person's name. That totally sucks and I'm pretty embarassed. So if you requested Craig/Robert, with some River, and cryptid!Dads, chances are, this story is for you!

Until now, he’d been able to more or less ignore the skeleton – wolf – in the closet. With the exception of a few, mostly positive changes, his life had been the same. But now, standing in front of his house waiting for Robert to pick him up, he couldn’t evade reality any longer.

Full moon was tonight. Today, he and Robert were going camping, so he’d be nowhere his family and friends when he shifted. Shifted. Robert had explained the process in excruciating detail, from every bone that broke and re-set to the way his human consciousness would just… turn off. Part of him still hoped Robert had exaggerated, but he could feel it in his chest that he’d only spoken the truth. In fact, he could feel a lot of things at the moment. His muscles were burning, as if he’d gone working out the day before and overdid it by more than just a margin. Scents that only annoyed him before were downright assaulting now. The tiniest thing, it seemed, set him off. He’d been unreasonably pissed off after not being able to find his phone; his breathing exercises helped, but only barely. It was like there was something lurking under his skin, growing bigger and bigger the more hours passed, trashing and throwing itself at his ribcage trying to break free.

He hated every second of it.

He’d fought so hard to bring his life under control and now... that was about to taken away from him again. Only for a night, admittedly, but he still felt on the edge. Thank god Sam was away. Had his friend seen him like this, he’d definitely notice something was wrong.

But then, it didn’t take years of living together in the small confines of a college dorm and a lifelong pact of friendship written in ravioli sauce to see that.

Had the context been a different one, watching Robert leave his house, get into his truck and drive the few metres over to his house would have been funny. But right now, it only brought dread. Robert didn’t bother getting out of his car, simply rolled down the window and leant out. “You look like death warmed over, kid.”

Robert’s dry tone of voice made Craig huff out a laugh. He shouldered his bag and rounded the car. Robert waited until Craig was seated and buckled up, then made the engine roar back to life. For the first ten minutes of the drive, the engine was the only sound that could be heard, but this time, the silence wasn’t comforting; it was loaded, like the calm before the storm.

Craig squirmed in his seat and shoved his hands in his lap. A few seconds later, he changed positions again. The third time, Robert looked over at him and glared. “I swear, if you don’t stop squirming, I’ll let you walk up the hill.”

The growly, dark undertone sent a shiver down Craig’s spine. He immediately sat still and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Robert nodded and turned his attention back to the road. Thankfully, the overlook wasn’t that far away from the cul-de-sac. Five more minutes in the truck and Craig would have choked on the tension in the air. He all but jumped out of the car and waited for Robert to get out too. The older man got out a large bag from the back and kicked the door shut. “Let’s go.”

Craig had always prided himself on his sense of orientation and how he could find back home, the dorm or the way to the nearest metro station. But soon after they went off the hiking tail and into the heart of the forest, he had no idea where he was anymore. He probably could have asked, but Robert was silent and gave off a vibe that said don’t talk to me, so Craig didn’t. Robert seemed to know where they were going anyway. About half an hour later, Robert suddenly stopped and put down his bag. “We’ll set up camp here. You got the tent?” Craig nodded, surprised by the sudden end to their silence. Robert grunted. “Toss it over.”

Robert set everything up himself, delegating Craig to simple tasks such as holding the tent stakes while Robert hammered them into the ground. The canopy of trees above their heads swallowed most of the sunlight, but a few rays went through, just enough to see. Robert threw a blanket on the ground and sat on it. When Craig hesitated for a few seconds, Robert glared and pulled up his upper lip in a snarl. “Get your ass down, kid,” he said, and Craig did.

He had no idea what time it was, but it must be hours until full moon, more than half a day. There was no way he could spend all that time just sitting there. His muscles barely did more than twitch as he intended to stand up before Robert already pushed him back down. “Bro, let me get up.”

“No.”

“Bro,” Craig complained. “I’m—“

“Anxious. Jumpy. Close to snapping. Trust me, I know. Doesn’t mean I’ll let you start exercising or some shit, or I will snap.” Robert fixed him with a glare, but it lacked the heat of the previous ones. “Look, I get it. You’re scared. I was scared shitless the first time it happened, too. But I was alone, then, and you’re not. I won’t let anything happen to you or anyone else who might waltz in, against all the fucking odds and I calculated them, they’re close to zero. You’re going to shift. It’ll fucking hurt. You won’t be in control of yourself. The worst thing that can happen is you trying to fuck with me and me ripping your fucking ear off, but that will grow back.”

Despite the anxiety in his chest, Craig couldn’t help but chuckle. “Who says it won’t be me ripping your ear off?”

Robert snorted. “First of all, I said fucking ear. Secondly, I’m sorry to disappoint you, Craigory, but not only am I older than you, both in actual years and in terms of werewolf experience, and thus in full control of my furred self, but I’m stronger than you, too.” At Craig’s amused and disbelieving look from his own to Robert’s body, Robert shoved him hard enough to send Craig toppling over. Craig sat up again and pouted. Something inside of him wanted to shove back and play and he found that disconcerting. “Want to doubt me again?”

“Nope, I’m good, bro.” Craig rubbed his arm where Robert hit him. “If you’ve always been so strong, why did you never help carry stuff around for the barbecues?”

“Because I’m lazy, I’d never move a fucking finger to help Joseph and,” Robert smirked, “not helping meant getting to see you do it and man, do your muscles bulge when you lift heavy shit.”

Craig blushed and ducked his head. “Um, thanks bro?”

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t get told at least four times a day. You’ve got your own fan club.”

“You mean the softball moms?” Craig shuddered. “If you ever have the displeasure of making their acquaintance, run. It’s… tiring.”

Robert nodded knowingly. “I can imagine. Must be hell, having half of Maple Bay’s single-mom population lust after you.” Craig shoved him, but Robert had the advantage of a better sitting position, so he only managed to move him a few centimetres to the side.

“Most of them aren’t even single, bro. A lot are married.”

“Their husbands never around to see them fawn over you?”

Craig shook his head. “I would be so lucky, huh? Besides, nothing ever happens.”

Both of them fell silent after that. After some time, Robert reached into his bag and pulled out two bottles of beer, one of which he handed to Craig. Wordlessly, they drank and once those bottles were empty, drank some more. “Shouldn’t we be sober for this?” Craig asked before taking another swig.

“Don’t tell me Kegstand Craig’s already tipsy after a bottle of beer and some.”

The bottle came to a standstill and hovered inches away from Craig’s face. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Robert with a suspicious expression. “Who told you that nickname?”

“Take an educated guess, kale.” Robert’s grin was wolfish. “Dear Sammy can’t hold his liquor. Gets very talkative when he’s drunk. Had to get blackmail material from somewhere. You could have told me you were a fucking party animal back in college.” His grin widened. “Aw, look at that, he’s blushing.”

“Shut up.”

“Don’t see why I should. Here I’ve always only known Mister Health and Responsibility and then I learn he earned himself a nickname like that. What was your record? 100 seconds?”

Craig groaned and drank another sip of beer. “115.”

Robert whistled. “Not bad. Wouldn’t have guessed that from how you are today. You sure you’re Craig Cahn and not an alien doppelganger?”

“I’m sure.” Craig looked to the side, letting out a long breath. “Can we not talk about this, bro? I’m anxious enough as it is.”

“Sure, kid.” Robert reached over and clasped Craig’s shoulder. “It won’t be that bad. Might even do you good, letting lose for a few hours.”

“That all was an elaborate plan to get me relaxed, wasn’t it? The werewolf attack, that was all Sam’s masterplan. Should have known it.” Craig offered Robert his bottle. “It’s always the unassuming ones you have to look out for.”

The older man snorted and clinked his beer against Craig’s. “You caught me. I’m but a minion, obeying my master’s command. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

---------

“It hurts,” Craig gasped, arching his back as another wave of fiery pain shot through his veins. He had long lost his jacket and was clawing at his shirt, torn between tearing it off or keeping it on, as his temperature seemed to fluctuate between the pits of hell and the Antarctic. “Fuck, it hurts-“

“Breathe through it, kid. In and out. Use one of those fancy breathing techniques you know.” Robert moved away from where Craig was crouched on the forest floor. A second later something wet and cold was pressed to his neck, which brought instant relief. Craig groaned and forced his eyes open again.

It started three hour ago, around five pm. As the sun gradually set and the forest grew darker, the itching under Craig’s skin that had been there the last few days worsened, until it turned into a burning sensation. According to Robert, that was normal, but knowing that didn’t make it any better. It felt like he was being incinerated from within. And every now and then, growing closer and closer in time like contractions did during labour, his limbs twitched against his will. His muscles tensed and relaxed outside of any discernible rhythm. But worst of all was the pain.

“Craig, listen to me-“ He looked up and somehow managed to figure out which blurry, colourful blob was Robert. “Craig, can you hear me? Do you understand? Good. That’s good. Just listen to me. It’s almost time. I know it hurts, kid, I know, but you have to relax. You can’t fight it. If you do, it’ll take longer and it’ll hurt a lot more. Okay? Nod if you understood.” Craig nodded, but the movement ended in a jerk as another wave of pain coursed through him. “Good. I need you to trust me. I’m going to strip you naked or the clothes’ll rip and annoy you during the shift. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

A fresh breeze on his heated skin was the only thing Craig noticed. He curled in on himself, but Robert pried him apart again, held him down as Craig began to trash and tremble, like he was having a seizure.

An ugly, loud crack broke through the feverish haze of his mind. The pain only registered seconds later. Someone, or something, screamed, but Craig was too far gone to notice it was himself.

“Kid-“

“Craig– don– the–“

He’s being ripped into pieces. Limb for limb, digit for digit, bone for bone, everything pulled apart like the individual pieces of a construction kit—

“Craig—“

A symphony of breaking bones and snapping muscles—

“Don’t fight—“

Bones were rearranging themselves. Fur broke through his skin and sprouted, his teeth became fangs, shattered his jaw, which popped out and grew longer only to resettle. His fingers turned into claws—

“—won’t let anything happen—“

His scream turned into a howl.

Confusion.

Disorientation.

Dizziness.

Pain.

Sore.

Hunger.

Thousands of smells – moss and grass and wood and prey.

Noises.

Crickets.

Wind, rustling leaves.

No foil.

Not alone.

Bared teeth, growling, snapping, brown eyes, human fingers not claws, reaching out, growling, snapping, words, distance—

Running.

Wind in his fur. Dirt under his paws.

Running. Running. Scent. Rabbit. Running. It’s running he’s leaping it’s—

Other wolf. Dark fur. Lined with grey. Shaggy. Growling, bared teeth, circling, the wolf stands calm, brown eyes, dark fur lined with grey, growling, it’s snapping at him—

He leaps. Dirt, tussling, teeth at his neck, a growl, he’s on his back, the wolf above him, it’s growling—

Something inside uncoils. He bares his neck, submitting—

The wolf releases him, licks over his head— Barks—Leads the way leads the hunt—

Running running running the wolf is at his side running rabbit running—

Blood meat prey hunt scent hunt running—

Running.

He throws back his head and howls.

The wolf answers—

Sunlight.

Burning. Fire pain fire hurts the wolf licking hurts—

No more fur, but skin, no more fangs but teeth, claws turned nails, there’s no other wolf anymore, human, brown eyes, greying hair, they’re naked, they’re—

It’s all teeth and snarls and skin on skin and—

Craig came to only slowly. His head was pounding, as bad as it used to be whenever he and Sam went to three parties in a row and overdid it with the alcohol, but miraculously didn’t die from alcohol poisoning. Speaking of, he turned to the side and coughed, curled in on himself with a groan. The memories of last night weren’t all there. Preventing him from fully accessing them was a wall, made of mist or fever he wasn’t sure, it wouldn’t let him through. All he had were fragments.

None of them explained why his arse was sore, too.

Craig turned on his back and opened his eyes. The sunlight blended him, but after a few seconds, his eyes adjusted and he could look around. The tent wasn’t there anymore. Their bags were packed and ready; someone had put out his clothes. He only now realised he was naked and reached for the boxershorts.

All his muscles were aching, like he had pulled something. He slowly got dressed and then stood up. There was no sight of Robert. “Bro?” He called out into the forest, but besides the indignant screeching of some birds as he startled them, there was no reply. “Robert?” Still nothing. Confused, Craig bent down and went through his bag in search of his phone. The movement hurt. Hissing through gritted teeth, Craig stood up and spun around. No reception. “Robert?!”

To his left there was the rustle of leaves. A moment later, before Craig could start to worry, Robert emerged. “Robert—“

“Get your bag. We’re leaving.” Robert barely looked at him as he brushed past and got his own bag. He didn’t even wait to see whether Craig was following him, leaving Craig to scramble after the older man. The pace Robert set was brutal. Had it taken them twenty minutes the day before, today they made it in half that time. Robert threw his bag in the trunk bed and closed the car door with enough strength to make the vehicle quake. Craig got in faster than he should have, considering his sore muscles, but he couldn’t be sure Robert wouldn’t just drive away without him, if he kept him waiting for too long.

With screeching tires, Robert pulled away from the lookout and brought them back on the road.

“Is something wrong?” Craig asked and threw a look over his shoulder, but nothing was following them. “Why are we—“ One glare from the other shut him up in an instance. Last time he’d seen Robert look so pissed and hostile had been when Joseph called him Rob in front of everyone, the first barbeque Sam attended after moving here. It was the kind of look that made clear Robert was absolutely not in the mood for talking. Wisely, Craig stayed silent for the remainder of the drive.

The cul-de-sac looked just like it had when they left, yet where he had found comfort in the drowsiness of the neighbourhood, it now appeared foreboding. Robert braked hard and brought the truck to a stop in front of Craig’s house, still not saying a single word. Slowly, Craig climbed out of the truck and shouldered his bag. “Robert-“

Robert reached over and closed the door. He didn’t even spare Craig a look before he drove off and left Craig standing. Frozen in shock, Craig watched as Robert drove past his house and left the neighbourhood the opposite way they’d arrived.

“What the fuck.”

-----------------

-----------------

<Please, bro, don’t just ignore me>

-----------------

<Please, Robert, talk to me>

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<Robert?>

-----------------

The truck came back two weeks after the last full moon. Craig walked up to Robert’s house the morning after. As far as he could tell, no one was home, but his instincts told him that Robert was there. So he knocked. And knocked again. He knocked until his hand started to hurt and then switched to the other.

"Robert!” He yelled. “I know you're home! You can’t just keep on ignoring me! That’s not cool, bro. I don’t even know what I did!"

Next door, Joseph’s eldest, Chris, left the house. Craig felt his cold and unmoving gaze on him as the kid continued on his way. It wouldn’t have surprised him had the child’s head turned 180° to keep on staring even as he walked the other direction, but nothing of that sort happened. He toned it down after that, though, since he didn’t want the whole neighbourhood to hear.

“Robert, please. I thought we’d become bros, over the last month, and now you’re just cutting me off out of the blue.” Craig’s hand unclutched and he rested it on the wooden frame with his palm. “Please, bro, I…”

The words lay on his tongue, but he couldn’t make himself say them out loud. Defeated, he dropped his arm and turned his back to the door. The way back to his own house felt longer than it was in reality.

-----------------

-----------------

He told himself he’d got over the whole Robert situation, but that was a lie, and he damn-well knew it. As cheesy as it sounded, Robert’s sudden absence left a hole in his life, one he, when it had still been filled, hadn’t noticed but now, that it was empty, felt all the more. And god, did thinking about it hurt. Last time he’d felt like this had been when Smashley sat him down and said, “We need to talk”. It very much felt like a divorce, too.

He dove back into work to distract himself, but no matter how much overtime he did, no matter how often he went to the gym, he couldn’t forget. Robert had said all wounds would heal, but this one just didn’t.

The girls had noticed, but he managed to assure them everything was fine. Sam tried to make him relax, but the moment Craig stood still, the pain came flooding back, so he kept on moving. Most of the time, that was a figure of speech, but sometimes, as was the case now, it was literally.

River had become cranky during the last ten minutes of his run, not used to the longer laps just yet, so he’d cut through some backyards in order to get home faster. Right afterwards, he’d put River to bed, expecting her to sleep for the next three to five hours, but only half an hour later, she began to cry.

“What is it, sweetpea?” He opened the door to her nursery and walked up to her crib. “Hey, River baby, what’s got you so…” The crib was empty, besides her. “Oh no, where’s Arnold? Didn’t you have him when I put you to bed?” Hearing the name just made River cry harder. He picked her up and bounced her on his arm, but that didn’t calm her down at all. “Did you drop him, sweetpea?”

One search through the house later, Craig realised they must have lost the capybara outside. Quickly throwing together a small bag pack with baby essentials, he jogged over to Sam. His bro opened the door looking like he’d just woken up from a nap, but straightened up immediately upon seeing them. “Bro! What’s wrong?”

“We lost Arnold,” he gasped out between breaths. “I took a long route today, don’t want to carry River all the way and back. Could you watch her while I’m gone? I know it’s your free day but-“

Sam put a hand on Craig’s arm. “Bro, of course I can. Come here, motek, come to Uncle Sam. Your Daddy’s going to find Arnold and bring him back, you don’t have to worry.” He kept up the stream of nonsensical babbling and reassurances even as Craig mouthed his thanks and walked away.

It wasn’t in any of the backyards he’d crossed, nor in the park. He searched behind every stick and stone, every tree and bush, but still came up empty-handed. His muscles burned because of the extortion, but he didn’t falter. In all his brooding, he hadn’t even noticed he lost his baby’s favourite plushie. What kind of father was he? A shitty one.

As his last resort, he began knocking on doors. Mat hadn’t seen a rodent native to South America, nor had Brian and Daisy (and they assured him Maxwell hadn’t shredded one either). Joseph’s twins just stared creepily, so he left quickly and just hoped they hadn’t found it. For a moment, he considered knocking on Robert’s door, but abandoned that trail of thought immediately. He dropped by Sam’s house to pick up River again and dejectedly walked home.

He was so busy trying to calm River down, he didn’t notice someone was standing in front of his door until the person cleared their throat. Craig’s head snapped up. “Robert?” He blurted out.

The older man shifted weight from one foot to the other. In lieu of a greeting, he lifted…

“Arnold!” River immediately stopped crying and reached for her toy. Thankfully, Robert stepped within reach, because Craig couldn’t move. After weeks of not seeing him, for Robert to just show up, with Arnold of all things… He was confused, hurt, hopeful, angry, all at the same time, and, caught in that emotional whirlwind, only managed a, “Where?”

Robert shrugged. “Lay in my backyard. Found him and remembered it’s hers, so I came to bring him back.”

“T-thank you, man.”

Robert waved his hand dismissively, then dropped his arm back to his side. Shifted weight again. Craig cleared his throat. And River, oblivious to the awkward tension between the two men, cooed and gurgled, happy to have Arnold back.

“Robert—“

“I better go—“

Both of them fell silent again. Craig tried catching Robert’s eyes, but the other man was averting his gaze, his own eyes firmly fixed on the floor. Now that Craig had got over his shock, he noticed just how bad Robert looked. His beard was long and unclean, his hair an unkempt, greasy mess. The shirt he was wearing looked like it had already been worn for weeks, if not more, and there were dark rings under his eyes.

Brown eyes.

A shiver ran down Craig’s spine. Robert seemed to notice; his brows furrowed and a dark shadow fell over his face. Without a word, he turned to leave. Craig didn’t think, he just reached out. Robert tried to pull his arm free, but Craig tightened his grip, hard enough to leave bruises. “We,” he said firmly, “need to talk.”

Robert scowled. “I swear to all the gods of religions young and old, if you don’t let me go this second, I’ll—“

“You practically threw me out of your car and drove away. I didn’t see you for two and a half weeks. You cut off all communication, after the most confusing night of my life, a night I can barely remember. You, Robert Small, do not get to make threats.” He tightened his grip and jerked his head towards his front door. “You’re going to follow me inside and wait while I put River to bed. And then you’re going to explain yourself because I damn well deserve an explanation.”

“Kid—“

“No. You don’t have a choice.”

He knew that if Robert really refused, he’d have no way of forcing him through the door, not with River balanced on his free arm. But Robert didn’t look like he’d bolt the second Craig let go of him. And he didn’t. With an air of defeat about him, Robert followed Craig into the living room and sat down on the couch while Craig put River back to bed. Somehow, he got the distinct impression that she was smug about something, but couldn’t figure out what that could be.

Robert was still there when he came back. Craig leant against the wall in front of him and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Talk.”

“Craig…”

“No, I said talk, you talk. You avoided me for two and a half weeks, Robert. People don’t do that without a good reason. The evening before the full moon, everything was fine, so it must have been something that happened in the night, and I don’t remember what happened. Not all of it, that is.”

“That’s normal. You weren’t yourself.” Something about Robert’s intonation set off the alarm bells in Craig’s head.

“But you remember, right? You retain all of your consciousness while shifted. Tell me.”

Robert sighed. “You shifted. I tried to calm you down, but you growled and ran away. I shifted too, ran after you. We grabbled and I pinned you on the ground and kept you there until you submitted to me. Then we hunted.”

“That’s it? Then why—“

“No, that’s not it. For fuck’s sake, Craig, why can’t you just accept things as they are? Why are you so fucking bothered by me disappearing?”

“Because you’re my friend, Robert!” Craig pushed off the wall and pointed at the other man. “Because I thought we’d grown close that last month and then you suddenly cut me off. Because—“

“Because you have feelings for me, is that it?” Craig stared at him in disbelief, his anger gone in a flash. Robert, on the other hand, got on his feet and began pacing like a caged animal. “When will it get into your goddamn head that I’m not a good person? I stayed away from you for two fucking weeks to make you realise that and yet you still come crawling! I’m a bad man, Craig, I’m a depressed alcoholic with mood swings and so much self-hatred even you couldn’t lift the weight of it! I’m not good as a friend, I’m not good for your kids and your health, and I certainly should not be the person you get a fucking gay crush on! I’m the fucking reason you were turned! It’s my fault!”

At Craig’s stunned silence, Robert snarled and whipped around. “You want to know what happened? When you shifted back, your mind wasn’t still quite there. I knew that. Yet when you kissed me, when you threw yourself at me, I didn’t push you off and stop, I kissed you back and we had sex!”

You weren’t yourself. The words echoed in Craig’s brain. He took a step forward and reached out, but Robert pushed his hand away. “Robert—“

“I fucked a guy who wasn’t in full control of himself!”

“Robert, I’m not—“

“And you know what? If that’s still not enough to make you realise what a shitty person I am, guess what!” Robert threw his arms up. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears. "My wife didn't die in a car accident. She was in a car alright, but it wasn’t another driver who fucking killed her, that was me!"

Craig’s blood ran cold. “What? But I thought it was a drunk driver.”

“It wasn’t,” Robert snarled. “It was full moon. My third. My wife followed me as I ran into the forest, she was in her car, calling for me. I wasn’t thinking straight, I ran on the road and she didn’t have the time to brake. She jerked the wheel, the car swerved, she lost control and hit… She hit… I ran away but when I came to… I stumbled through the forest, on the road, and there she was, she was…”

Whatever he wanted to say was lost in heart-wrenching sobbing. Craig barely made it in time to catch him as Robert’s legs gave in. “Ssh, it’s okay, Robert, it’s okay…” It wasn’t, they both knew that. But Craig didn’t know what else to say. All he could do was rub Robert’s back and hold him as sobs wrecked through the older man’s body. This close, he smelled the alcohol on Robert’s breath.

Craig didn’t know how long they sat there, but his butt and knees were slowly starting to hurt, and he couldn’t imagine it was comfortable for Robert either. “Robert, bro, let’s get up on the couch. Yeah, that’s it, just lean on me, I’ve got you.” He gently guided Robert’s head to rest on his shoulder and pulled him into his lap, holding him close. After some time, the sobs quieted, even as the tears continued to leave a damp spot on his shoulder that was beginning to get cold. “Bro, you’re not a bad person. You’re a troubled man carrying more weight than fucking Atlas. None of this is your fault. You told me, you’re not in control of yourself the first shifts. You weren’t in control. You didn’t kill your wife, because you’re not the reason she crashed. It was an accident.”

“It wasn’t—“

“It was. I know me saying that won’t change anything, but bro, it was an accident. As was me being turned. That wasn’t your fault either. You’re only human… well… you’re just one person. How are you supposed to protect the whole of Maple Bay and the surrounding forests and mountains, all by yourself? And…”

Robert looked up and sniffled. Craig couldn’t help himself, he reached out and wiped his tears away. His hands stayed where they were, cupping Robert’s face. He looked so vulnerable, so damn tired, it made Craig’s heart break in half. “I’m… I’m almost thankful. Because—“

“If you say because we would never have started talking and texting, I’ll rip your throat out.”

Craig laughed. “Bro, I’m trying my hand at emotional comfort. Don’t make fun of me.” He shook his head. “As for… the sex.” He blushed, the bits he did remember flashing in his mind. “I… I might not have been in control but… bro, I’d lie if I said I didn’t think about jumping you before that. It’s not just a gay crush. You’re not the first dude I’ve ever shown interest in. But bro, if it’s up to me, you might as well be the last. I know you don’t see yourself in the best light, but bro, to me, you’re… You’re the funniest guy I’ve ever met. You’re mysterious and dark and broody and somehow I find that really sexy, but it’s not just a physical thing? Don’t get me wrong, I’m super pissed I can’t remember our first time, but I really hope- Shit, I never stopped to ask if you— Hmpf!”

He glared at Robert, but the hand stayed where it was, covering his mouth. “For the love of everything paranormal, please stop rambling.” He raised his eyebrows at Craig and after Craig nodded, dropped his hand. “You’re insane. Anyone ever tell you that? You could have everyone in this stupid town and yet you—“

“I don’t want anyone else, bro.”

Robert shook his head, but his lips were twitching and he’d finally stopped crying. Suddenly aware of their position, Craig tried scooting backwards, but Robert fisted his shirt and kept him in place with an annoyed expression. “And somehow, I believe you. Fuck, you’re so goddamn honest with everything but yourself, it’s- It’s so frustrating. You see the best in everyone and are optimistic, it shouldn’t be possible, no one’s so selfless but… But you make me want to better myself. You make me want to quit drinking and pick up the slack, just so I can be who you see. And for a month, before the full moon, I thought I was getting there, but then everything happened…” He looked away again and took a deep breath. “I’m not a good person, Craigory, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Maybe,” Craig conceded. Robert’s head snapped upward and he looked so afraid, as if he worried he had finally convinced Craig of his view. “But neither am I. We’re both self-destructive, aren’t we? But, Robert, I… I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is that these last two weeks I missed you. I didn’t know what I’d done and I wished you’d just tell me, so I could fix it.”

“You can’t fix me, Craig. You can’t expect me to—fuck, I might never get better. Or my version of better is still shitty compared to everyone else. I don’t want you to be disappointed. I’m not some charity case, I can’t be that—“

“Bro, I don’t want to fix you. I mean, I do, but it’s not the only reason.” Craig let out a frustrated huff and ran a hand through his hair. “I suck at communication, dude. Smashley always called me Communication Craig ironically, how do I word.”

Robert raised an eyebrow. Without the red eyes and tear tracks, he would almost look like he always did. “Pot meets fucking kettle.” Craig snorted. We’re both a fucking mess, one way or the other. “I still think you’re insane.”

“Says the guy who let the neighbourhood believe for half a year that his damn name is Daniel McSturgiss.”

“That wasn’t insane, it was genius.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Sure, bro.”

“If I may continue, bro.” Robert narrowed his eyes at him. “I still think you’re insane. But if you… if you give me a chance, if you… if you stand at my side, then I… I think I could become a better man. I think I could become a man worthy of your-“ He waved his hand about.

“Your…?”

“Don’t fucking make me say it, pup.” Robert growled. His eyes were sparkling again, but not, like before, because of tears, not only; there was a hopefulness to their glimmer now. He pressed closer, until they were chest-to-chest, not an inch between them, and leant down. Their noses were brushing now. It would take next to nothing to lean in… Craig saw Robert’s eyes flicker down to his lips, then back up again. “Can I kiss you, kid?”

“Please.”

And they did.

-----------------

He’s running.

The wind is brushing through his fur, like a gentle caress urging him forward and forward through the forest.

The plethora of scents in his nose are confusing, but two stand out, and he follows the strongest one, the one he is intimately familiar with.

He’s running, dirt under his paws, twigs in his fur, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

There is no prey he was hunting this time, no woodland creature running away from him, running from its doom. He breaks through the darkness of the forest, out into the cloudless night and the shine of the moon, and slows down as the overlook comes into view.

He puts his front paws on the wooden blockade and throws his head back, howling.

Immediately, there is an answer. Out of the bushes behind him comes a wolf, fur as dark as his own, but linked with streaks of grey. The other does not slow down, but tackles him, and they’re tussling, rolling around in the dirt.

He’s on his back and the other wolf above him, brown eyes staring unblinking into his own. Their tails are throwing the dust up in the air because of how hard they are wagging, thumping on the ground. He yips and leans up to lick over the other wolf’s snout, who huffs and playfully nips on his ear. He tries to wriggle free, but the greying wolf’s weight is unrelenting, keeping him in place.

Until it isn’t anymore. He jumps to his paws and yips again with his butt high up in the air. The other wolf regards him with a look that says really, but doesn’t stop him from pawing at him, from bumping their shoulders and sides together as he jumps around.

The other wolf pushes his nose down in the dirt and sniffs. Then he looks up, jerks his head back towards the forest and runs.

After a few moments, the other wolf howls.

Lying his head back, Craig gives an answering howl before breaking into a sprint. Robert’s scent guides him to their prey.

#dream daddy #dream daddy: a dad dating simulator #ddadds #dream daddy a dad dating simulator #craigbert #ddaddsss #ddaddsss17

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hiimjackharkness-blog · 7 years

Text

Break

Okay so here’s part one of what I think (?) is going to end up being a three part Robert/Craig thing, fight me.

(Also thanks to @brosbando for kind of motivating me to do this lmao)

The living room floor...

Well that was nothing new. Robert had woken on the floor far too many times for his taste, and perhaps that wasn't a good thing, but honestly he was too tired of everything to give a single shit.

The throbbing headache wasn't new either, but there was the quesiton he always asked himself of how the hell he'd even woken up again. He was sure that one day he'd dump enough alcohol into his system that it'd kill him. Oh that'd be the day. Would anyone even notice? Probably not. It'd probably be a week or more before anyone decided that his prolonged silence was longer than normal.

With a groan Robert realized that yes, his back was very much protesting to still being on the floor. In it's indignance, it was sending messages to his brain to get the fuck up before he completely lost the ability to. Fantastic.

The world lurched around him as he braced his hands against the floor and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Ew. He couldn't decide if the nasty feeling crawling up his throat was from drinking on an empty stomach or from the hangover in general. Again, nothing out of the ordinary.

Robert knew that he had to stop eventually, he had to turn himself around, he had to stop being so fucking pathetic and maybe do something about his life. But the temptation to let himself sink further into the rut until his alcoholism killed him was strong. Very strong.

Or maybe that was the nausea... He couldn't tell.

Lurching to his feet sent the world into a tailspin, and in an attempt to keep himself upright, several bottles and glasses were knocked from the bar. Great. He winced as the sound of shattering glass hit his ears. Was he wearing shoes still? Yes, okay so he could get by with ignoring the broken glass on his living room floor for a moment.

However the dog seemed to have been woken by the sound. He managed to focus on her as her head poked up from her bed. The look she gave him only solidified his thoughts that he needed to get his shit together. But whatever, what he needed for the moment was coffee, aspirin, and preferably more sleep.

The next few minutes became a blur of dumping kibble in the dog bowl, making coffee and after thoroughly burning his mouth, throat and probably sinuses, collapsing into bed. The aspirin was in easy reach from there, and he managed to down a couple before pushing a pillow over his head with a dissatisfied groan.

He was woken the second time, by a familiar face in his house.

"You're really going to kill your dog Robert."

The familiar voice cut through his sleep as he felt the bed dip under Mary's weight. Well, wasn't she a godsend. In hindsight, leaving the broken glass on the floor with the dog around was not, in fact, a good idea... Well. Hindsight could go fuck itself and so could he. Robert mentally cursed himself for doing something so dumb as he wrestled the pillow off of his head.

"I took care of the glass, by the way, you owe me." He was prodded rather roughly on the shoulder, and shot Mary a look without lifting his head from the mattress.

"You're a real sweetheart, don't you know that?" He grumbled, squinting hazily at her.

"He lives!" Mary clapped him over the back and Robert groaned, turning his face back into the mattress. He didn't want to be awake, couldn't he just sleep for twelve hours and not have Mary questioning him? Apparently not.

"Come on, are you getting up or not? It's five already. We're going to miss all the early business at Jim and Kim's." Mary persisted, continuing to prod Robert, as much as he mentally protested to such an act.

"You really never get tired of the same old shit do you?" Robert grumbled, finally sitting up. That time his body cooperated with him much more. His head was still pounding, reminding him that whiskey was no substitute for water. But he'd deal with it in a minute.

"You know just as well as I do that it's not the same thing every time, come on Robert, help a gal escape from the monotiny of her asshole husband." Mary prodded at him again, only to be swatted off as Robert ran his hands through his hair, only serving to muss it more.

"Come on, get your sorry ass up, we're going out whether you want to or not." Mary reached over to the bedside table to grab a glass, which was then pushed into Robert's hand. He flashed her a thankful smile, taking a sip of the water and seeing how it went down before promptly downing hald the glass. Mary rose from the bed and wandered out of the room, presumably to give Robert a moment to wake up and get dressed. He supposed he wasn't in any place to protest someone forcing him to socialize. At least Mary cared, in her own... fucked up way.

~~~

After paying their usual dives a visit, and before the sun could dip down too low in the sky, Robert found himself retiring to the park with Mary, absently turning a flask between his hands as Mary went on about her kid's antics.

Robert found his gaze landing on someone sitting on a blanket. In the first dredges of twilight, it was hard to distinguish who at a distance. But the longer he watched, he started to realize that the two girls running about on the grass throwing a baseball belonged to the dude on the blanket. And he could hear the sound of encouragint comments floating through the evening air, along with a baby babbling.

"Isn't that Craig over there?" Mary leaned into Robert's shoulder, nodding over to where the girls had toppled onto the sitting figure, resulting in a rather heartwarming laugh. Ugh, did they have to show off their picture perfect family in public? Of course they had to, it was a thing dads did, wasn't it? He had to brush up on how to be a good father. Though... There wasn't really a reason to was there? His daughter hated him, end of story.

Robert gave an affirmative nod at the question. Mary had put a name to the voice he knew was horribly familiar. He'd talked to Craig a couple times. The guy was the perfect father, he gave up everything for his kids, there seemed to be nothing he wouldn't do for the girls. it was insane and annoying.

"Yeah, he and his kids are... something." Robert muttered. He was ready to call it a night with Mary at that point. He enjoyed her company well enough, but he could use some sleep and probably some more alcohol. Well. He didn't need more alcohol in his system. But he couldn't find any sympathy for his liver within himself.

"I'm gonna head home, you staying here any longer?" He eyed the small family across the grass, before he pulled his eyes away to quirk an eyebrow at Mary. She shrugged, reclining on the rickety park bench.

"I think I'll get some air. House is a bit of a war zone right now." She grimaced and Robert offered an understanding nod before he rose and wandered off with a wave in Mary's direction.

~~~

A twelve day bender was not a good idea.

Anyone with half a brain knew that. So apparently Robert lacked even that, along with any sort of common sense in general. He couldn't really tell if he was too drunk to have a hangover or too hungover to be drunk. Was that even possible? He didn't even know, he could barely think, let alone think straight. And still, it was the most sober he'd been in a few days. When had he had his last cigarette? That was a good question, he was aching for one at that point.

Mary would have tossed him right into a cold shower had she seen how much of a mess he was at that point, but Robert hardly thought about that. Instead he focused on lighting a cigarette, and trying to remember why he'd scattered old photos across the coffee table.

He was startled at the sound of someone knocking on his door. Who the hell was that? Mary, Joseph and her kids were on a vacation. And it was pretty late so what the fuck kind of salesman would be at his door? Robert groaned faintly in protest to the idea of getting up. He supposed it was probably important if someone was knocking so late...

At the same time, his motivation to get up was as absent as his common sense for the moment, and he ended up just silently glowering at the door. He hoped whoever it was would make themselves scarce sooner rather than later, he didn't feel like interacting with people. He wanted to finish his cigarette and probably fall into his own bed at some point. He was starting to feel the effects of spending the last several days without properly sleeping in a bed.

The person at his door knocked a couple times more before they left, and Robert was left alone with his thoughts and way too many old photos once more.

~~~

It was when he finally started to sober up again the next day that the person returned. Robert was still tipsy, but nowhere near in the spot he'd been in the day previous. He was sober enough to deal with people without them knowing. Except the fact he probably still smelled heavily of alcohol.

Still he heard the knock from his kitchen while he was working on a glass of water and... frankly a lot of aspirin. Probably too much, but the worst it was going to do was thin his blood right? Right sure.

He set his glass on the counter, running his hand through his hair as he wandered to the door. Was it the same person? Probably, it was a bit late, or at least it would be for anyone else in the neighborhood. He would have probably just gotten started at that time of night.

He opened the door to find none other than the world's best dad standing on his doorstep. And he was honestly quite surprised to find Craig of all people standing there. He knew it couldn't have been Mary, she never knocked. But still, of the whole rest of the neighborhood? Craig?

"Hey, so you are alive." Craig seemed as surprised by said fact that Robert was at his general presence.

"Sadly, and you're at my door." Robert retorted, still confused by that. He wasn't really up for anything that Craig might be inviting him to. Although Craig looked a bit worried by his first comment. God couldn't the guy take a dark joke?

"Mary called, she wanted me to check up on you." Craig explained. Ah, so that was it. Honestly Robert was mostly surprised by Mary's choice in who to send. Though maybe she didn't want to put Damien through Robert's general existence. That was understandable.

"And here I am, what else do you need?" Robert was starting to get just a little annoyed with Craig just standing there on his doorstep like a lost puppy. If he was just there to make sure Robert was alive, he probably wouldn't still be standing there after finding out just that.

"She said to make sure you're okay, and it doesn't look like it man." Craig's eyes flickered over Robert, and he looked down at himself, yeah he looked a bit more careless than usual, but whatever. He probably did look like hell though...

"Yeah yeah I'm fine, you want to come in or something?" It was a begrudging offer, hopefully he could get Craig off his back that way. He'd done a tiny bit of tidying up... Enough so that his place looked like it always did, and there were no remnants of his slide into self-destructive behavior. Other than that it was still as cluttered as usual. He really had to clean up at some point.

"Sure, you're really sure you're okay?" Craig still didn't look convinced. But Robert was already standing to the side to let Craig inside. Craig stepped in, and Robert caught the look of surprise and worry that flickered over Craig's features before it was pushed back. Okay maybe letting him inside was a bad idea but whatever.

"I already told you, I'm fine." Robert huffed, closing the door and huffing a bit. It'd been a long time since anyone but he and Mary had been in the house, and the dog seemed intensely interested in Craig. The guy soon had an excited ball of fur snuffling at his legs before Robert could even protest.

"Still... You're one hundred percent sure there's nothing bothering you?" Craig quirked an eyebrow and kind of glanced about the room to really make his point. Robert kind of had a feeling the guy wasn't going to back off until he said something. Damn him actually being a decent human being.

"I tend to always be a human disaster, your point is?" Robert muttered. He didn't feel like opening up to anyone, so maybe Craig would accept the fact that he was just naturally a mess and go. The guy seemed genuinely concerned though... Not just like he was trying to get answers for Mary.

"You're sure nothing else is wrong?" Craig folded his arms over his chest, meeting Robert's eyes fearlessly. Well that was kind of intimidating as shit. Craig could probably kill him, the guy was ridiculously fit, and Robert was starting to realize that with how out of place Craig looked in his house.

And fuck the very real concern was starting to get to him. It wasn't often that people actually acted like they cared about him whatsoever. He could feel himself relenting a bit under Craig's gaze, sticking his hands in his pockets with a huff.

"It's just been a long week, nothing you need to worry about." Robert muttered, looking away. Goddamnit, Craig was getting to him and it really wasn't okay. Typically Mary was the only one that could break him. He didn't like to be changing that. Though he startled when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

"What's going on man?" There was a distinct air around Craig that really let on the fact that he wasn't just trying to get answers, he really cared... Ugh, stupid people and their stupid compassion.

"It's just..." Robert sighed, running a hand down his face. He hadn't shaken Craig's hand off, but was he really wanting to open up? Was it the alcohol still in his system? Or maybe it was the fact that Craig was the first person he'd talked to in a long time. Or maybe some combonation of all three.

"I don't see why you even give a damn. The general opinion on me seems to be pretty bad you know." He scoffed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. There was the self hatred starting to rear it's head a bit. But he made an attempt to push it down.

"Woah dude why would you think-"

"Even my own daughter hates me Craig, I don't see why you of all people should give a shit!" He snapped, effectively cutting Craig off as he finally met the other man's eyes again. That was actually... Kind of out of the blue. He hadn't really thought before saying that, it was just instinct. Craig looked taken aback at the sudden aggression. But it seemed to be there to stay, and Robert was acting on instinct yet again. He reached up to grab the collar of Craig's shirt and shake him lightly.

"Don't you fucking get it? You and Mary both are just delusional, there's no saving me here, I'm too damn far gone!" Robert was shaking at that point, he wasn't sure why but he could feel his hands trembling slightly as his knuckles dug into Craig's collarbones. Craig still looked startled from Robert's advance and being shaken, but he appeared to be recovering, jaw tensing a bit. Robert was probably about to get punched but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Says who Robert?" Craig returned both hands to Robert's shoulders that time, even if they were already practically nose to nose.

"My own wife and daughter Craig, the woman I loved and my own flesh and blood. I'm sure that counts for something." Robert's tone seemed to drop the aggression as he thought about it. God Val hated him, she really did. She'd told him several times that it wouldn't matter if he cut himself out of her life, it didn't make a difference anyways.

Craig seemed quiet for a moment before Robert stiffened at the feeling of being pulled closer and a strong arm around his shoulders. And it took a second for him to realize he was being hugged, hard.

"You're a good man Robert, you're not too far gone." Craig sighed a bit as Robert tried to figure out how the hell he was supposed to respond to being crushed against Craig's chest. He was right about it being like a fucking wall, he realized dimly as he rested his forehead against Craig's shoulder.

"You're wrong..." Robert muttered. Craig was so far off. Robert had fucked over his own family, and he couldn't even make himself a better person in his wife's memory. He was really just fucked up. He'd screwed his family so badly. Val honest to god hated him. She'd told him to his face, dead serious, no head-of-the-moment teenager tantrum, she genuinely hated him.

The thoughts seemed to shake him, and Robert was surprised to feel tears burning in his eyes. Of course, the first person to show some real compassion towards him in a long time that wasn't Mary was going to send all of his defenses crumbling.

"Your kids love you, you've got something to live for... I don't." Robert rasped, his voice was shaking but he coudln't do anything about it as he drew a shuddering breath, trying to gather the resolve to push Craig away. But instead he just ended up leaning more into the other man's grip.

"Hey now don't say that." Craig sounded more worried than ever, and Robert seemed to shrink slightly at the comment. Why not? Why shouldn't he? He didn't contribute much at all to society in general, why should he still be around?

"I mean I'm not particularly in love with existence at this point, why should I still be here?" He was starting to stumble over his words a bit, tears weren't good for speaking clearly were they? Robert hated being such a damn mess, but the thoughts had started to disarm him, and Craig's comforting grip didn't help keep tears at bay.

He was right though, why should he still be around? He couldn't even manage to be a decent father, why keep on when he couldn't even do that? There was no real reason to was there. What good did he do? Robert was mortified that he had really started crying, shuddering slightly as he choked down a sob. Fuck he was useless, and pathetic.

Before he even realized his knees were giving out, he was gently being lowered to the floor, one of Craig's arms slipping under one of his to hold him steady. He wondered why they were on the floor as Craig squeezed him tightly, bringing the sobs to the surface until Robert was quietly breaking down against Craig's shirt. He didn't know where the tears had come from, maybe it was just his brain's way of telling him that yeah, he needed a breakdown where he wasn't just forcing everything down.

It took a startlingly long time for him to get a handle on himself and his thoughts again, and Craig remained right there the whole time, it was really weird. But comforting in a way. Though Robert pushed away a bit when he had pushed the tears back. He needed to get a grip on himself. Craig probably thought the breakdown was weird, it was probably awkward at that point. Robert huffed at himself as he gingerly dried his eyes with his sleeve.

"Jesus, sorry about that." He muttered, still not daring to meet Craig's eyes. If that wasn't embarrassing he didn't know what was.

"Don't be, sounds like you needed that dude." Craig was quiet, but when Robert finally looked up at him again, he just looked... like he understood.

"Probably, it's been a while." Robert huffed, looking away again. Weirdly enough, Craig's presence didn't make him uncomfortable. It was actually kind of nice, something about Craig was just soothing. Or maybe he was biased, whatever. Craig was a good guy.

"Well, if you ever need anything, you know where I live." Craig easily got to his feet, offering Robert a hand up. Robert grimaced but took it anyways, startled when Craig easily hauled him to his feet.

"I'll keep it in mind."

#DDADS #ddads spoilers #Craigbert #Brobert #Craig/Robert #Robert Small #Craig Cahn #Angst man #Mildly suicidal comments #ngl #Dream Daddy #brosbando

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