#also fair warning this is a vicky budd stan zone so

[moirasimagines]

standing by | david budd x reader

summary: it’s the night of october 1st, and the reader is expecting a visit from david after an outing with his kids to see their grandmother. feeling nervous, they phone vicky and receive some less than reassuring news.

warnings: canon-typical mentions of su*cide bombing/terrorism and ptsd, lil angsty? but tender i promise, vicky and the reader each have one (1) drink, general concern is to be had about david’s mental state

word count: 2787

a/n: i kinda wanna make this a series? where david and the reader just? are dating so instead of sleeping w/ julia he just... becomes her friend and everything else just... happens the same way ig??? lemme know if anyone’s actually interested in this bc i might write it anyway but it’d be good to know if there’s any actual like... market for it bgjkrtbgkr

David is late. You aren’t angry–– it just seems odd. He’s a very punctual person, normally, and you couldn’t imagine why he wouldn’t just text you if something had come up with the kids. He hasn’t answered any of the texts you’ve sent him, and both times you called, his phone went to voicemail. You think about phoning Vicky, then decide against it. You like to think that the two of you are friends. She’s kind to you whenever you see her, anyway, and David has mentioned once or twice that she’s asked about you, remembered that your aunt had been sick and sent well wishes or mentioned a book you’d told her about. You like her. She’s a good mother to her kids, and she treats David with the love and respect he deserves. You’ve never met a pair of exes with such a healthy relationship, and though you know it’s a two way street between herself and David, you’re still impressed with her grace. It’s these feelings that drive you to give her a ring when an hour’s gone by since Dave said he’d be over and you haven’t heard anything.

“Hello?” 

“Hi Vicky, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if Dave––”

“Oh love,” she says, and you notice that her voice wavers as she speaks. Your heart drops. “Everyone’s alright, the kids and him, but…” She sighs. “There was a suicide bomber on their train home.”

“Oh christ,” you murmur, your heart rate picking up.  “But they're okay? The kids? And Dave? Nothing happened, no one got hurt?”

“They’re all fine, yeah. They’re taking a cab home now. Dave said to expect them in at about  half past 10. He…” she takes a deep breath on the other end of the line. “He talked the woman out of it. Nearly got himself killed, but…” For a moment, neither of you says anything. You glance at the clock. It’s 9:45. You have to make a conscious effort to even out your breathing, but you manage it.

“He saved their lives,” you say.

“Yeah,” Vicky manages, but you can tell she’s crying.

“Is there anything I can do for you, hun?” you ask, “Do you want some company?” She sniffles.

“That actually… That would be nice, if you’re offering. And that way you won’t have to wait to see him, or the kids.”

“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, of course. I’ll start over right now. Should be able to get there in twenty. Thank you, Vicky.”

“Yeah, all right. No, it’s…” She pauses. “I mean, thank you, hun.” 

“See you soon.”

You smile as you hang up, but your stomach is still churning. He’s fine, the kids are fine. Everything is fine. Vicky obviously spoke to him, and they’re all on their way home now. But the thought of something happening is too much to bear, and you notice after a moment that your heart is practically pounding. You don’t want to keep Vicky waiting, though, so you toss your phone and keys into your bag and drive over.

She meets you at the door, and to your surprise, throws her arms around you. Relieved, you return the embrace, giving her a reassuring squeeze. 

“Thank you for coming all this way,” she murmurs against your shoulder.

“Thank you for letting me come by.” Vicky takes a deep breath and pats your back. You both pull away and she nods for you to follow her inside.

“Drink?” she asks, padding into the kitchen. She sounds tired. You trail behind her, realizing slowly that you’ve never really been alone together. Normally you feel a bit like you’re visiting your in-laws or something when David brings you round to Vicky’s. But the house feels smaller now, somehow, more intimate.

“I won’t say no to that.” She offers you a weary but genuine smile and takes a wine glass from the cupboard.

“I’ve got my own in the sitting room, so don’t worry. I’m not trying to liquor you up. White okay?” You let out a laugh at the joke and she shoots you a wry smile.

“Yeah, perfect, thank you.” You both go to sit and wait for David and the kids, finding yourselves on opposite ends of the couch. She sits so that she’s facing you a little, shoulder resting against the cushions.

“So, how’s things with you and Dave?” Vicky asks after a moment. You feel a guilty pang, but it’s clear that she’s really just curious. There’s no malice in her words–– of course, there never is. If anything, you imagine she just wants to fill the time.

“They’re good,” you say, hesitantly. “Thanks. It’s, ah… You know, obviously I love the kids, and––”

“Oh, they adore you,” she replies, smiling despite the anxiety on her brow. Your expression softens.

“Really?”

“Yeah, ‘course. They’re always asking about you.”

“Oh. That’s really sweet,” you say, genuinely a bit surprised. You love Charlie and Ella fiercely, but you’d always assumed they must have felt a bit strange about you. After all, you and David have been together for the better part of a year now. They know you’re dating their dad. You’d always thought it would be a little bit difficult for them–– and who could blame them if it was?

“We all love you, you know,” she says earnestly after a moment. “I’m pleased it’s going well with you two, really, I am.” Spindly fingers reach across the space as she covers your hand with her own, giving you an affectionate jostle. Tears glisten in her eyes, and you feel your chest tighten. “I know it’s probably weird, me saying all this, but…” She shakes her head. “I love Dave, he’s the father of my kids. And all I want is for him to be happy. I think you make each other happy.” You nod slowly, taking her words in, feelings tears slip down your own cheeks as you place your free hand on top of hers and squeeze.

“I think the world of you,” you say once she sits back. “I really want you to know that. You’ve been nothing but kind to me since day one, and––” She waves you off.

“Oh god, don’t give me so much credit,” she says, recovering a bit, “You were the one in the really scary position. Meeting the ex-wife? Please, I would have shat myself.” She lets out a shaky laugh, sniffs, wipes her eyes. “And you were so sweet!”

“Are you kidding?” you reply, halfway between tears and laughter, “If I had to meet my ex’s new partner, I probably would have had a cow.” Vicky laughs at that, and the two of you share an admittedly tearful but warm look.

As you’re wiping your eyes again, a car pulls up outside of the house, and both of your heads snap up at the sound.

“Oh thank god,” Vicky says, and you both hurry out the door. Charlie and Ella come bounding up to her, and just like that, you’re welling up again, seeing the kids reunited with their mother. David follows a few paces behind, and the kids step back from their little group hug as she goes to embrace him.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Ella asks, turning to you. Charlie follows suit, and soon you’re knelt on the ground to give them a hug as well. 

“I was worried about all of you,” you say, “so your Mum asked if I’d like to come see you.”

“That was nice of her,” Charlie says.

“Yeah,” you agree, pulling away to scrub at your eyes, “it was, huh?” They both smile at you, and you glance at David, who’s reassuring an understandably distraught Vicky. It had been easier to curb your emotions when the two of you were talking, but now you can’t help yourself. No sooner have you dried your cheeks than fresh tears roll down them and you look at the kids again, admiring their sweet faces. “I’m very glad to see you both,” you say quietly.

“We’re glad to see you too,” Ella replies. Charlie moves to hug you again, seeing that you’re still crying, and Ella joins him. You squeeze them both as David and Vicky walk over.

“Come on you two,” she says, voice a little calmer, but still tinged with emotion, “it’s past your bedtime.” You let them both go and Vicky offers you a smile, which you return gratefully. They scamper off after her into the house, and you can’t possibly stand up quickly enough. David’s arms are around you in an instant and when you exhale, it feels like you’re deflating into him.

“What are you doing here, love?” he asks gently, a hand coming up to cradle your head.

“I thought you were going to come over tonight,” you murmur, “and when I didn’t hear from you, I got worried, and I called Vicky and she told me about the train, and...” You feel David tense up for a moment, and then sigh.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry, love. I completely forgot.”

“No, it’s all right, Dave, really––”

“No, but you must have felt awful talking to Vic–– and I didn’t even call you.”

“Well, you had quite a lot going on from what I understand,” you say, pulling away to look at him. He looks exhausted, rattled, and upset at himself, no doubt. “I’m not angry,” you insist, “Really, I’m just so relieved you’re all okay.” You lift a hand to his cheek and though he leans into the touch, he looks down, brow creased in frustration. “David,” you say, trying to get him to look at you. “Your kids come first. I know that, I’ve known it since the day we met. It’s one of the many things I love about you.” Finally, he lifts his eyes to yours. They’re bright, you notice, more intense than usual. 

“I would’ve called you first thing in the morning.”

“I know you would have,” you say reassuringly. For a moment, you just look at each other, your thumb brushing across his cheek. “Love, are you all right?” David sniffs, nods. You drop your hand.

“Fine, yeah. I’m…” he takes a deep breath. “I’ll be alright,” he says, but he sounds defeated. You frown slightly, and nod. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you softly, quickly, before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I’m gonna go help Vic put the kids to bed,” he says, nodding towards the house.

“I’ll drive you home,” you offer. “Yours or mine. Whatever you need.” He nods gratefully and tucks an arm around you. With your arm wound tightly around his waist, his kisses you on the temple and you both head back inside.

You sit back down on the couch and lean your head on your hand as he sheds his jacket and trots upstairs. You don’t even realize that you’re beginning to doze off until the sound of your name rouses you from half-consciousness. David’s face materializes before your own as you blink yourself awake. He smiles softly.

“Hi, you,” he says. You chuckle, and he reaches for your hand to help you up.

Vicky leans against the stairwell and hugs David and you each in turn.

“Don’t be strangers,” she says through a yawn, and the three of you shuffle to the front door. 

“Night, Vic,” David says, stepping outside.

“Night, Dave.” You pause before following him out and take Vicky’s hand.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say. “Really. Get some rest, all right?”

“You too,” she replies softly. “You’re always welcome here, you know.” You nod.

“Thank you. Night, babes.” Vicky smiles.

“G’night.” You turn and step out into the yard, David nodding to Vicky as she shuts the door. He puts his arm around you again and you start down the street towards your car.

“You two seem very cozy,” David says after a moment, almost sounding amused. You chuckle.

“Yeah, I like her. She was really sweet to me tonight.” You slow to a stop as you reach your car and dig in your bag for your keys. “It was nice talking, just me and her, I guess.” David’s smiling when you look up at him.

“Vicky’s good people,” he agrees. “And anyone would have to be out of their mind not to like you.” You can’t help but smile as you shake your head at him and unlock the doors. He climbs into the passenger seat and you go around to the driver’s side.

“Do you want me to take you home, love?” you ask once you’re situated. David looks at you almost sheepishly.

“I’d rather stay at yours, if you’ll have me.” You let out a breath and give him a tired smile.

“Of course I will,” you say, leaning over the console to kiss him. He chases your lips when you pull away, a hand resting on the back of your neck. You kiss him once more and start the car. 

The drive home is comfortably silent, and when you look over, you see that David has closed his eyes, is taking measured breaths. It’s something you’d recommended he do that you’d learned from your own time in therapy, though you’ve yet to convince him to go. It’s better than nothing, though, and while he doesn’t look completely untroubled when you park the car, he seems a bit calmer.

It’s nearly midnight when you finally trudge into your apartment, and David heads straight for your bedroom. You don’t bother to do anything more than take off your makeup in the bathroom before following after him. He’s already in his pyjamas–– he has a decent sized drawer at your place–– and you change unceremoniously into your own. He draws the covers back and climbs into bed and you do the same. You have to lean over him to turn the light out and for a moment, you hover over him in the darkness. You feel protective, like you want to stay poised above him, ready to frighten off any would-be attackers in the night. He shifts beneath you and you drop a kiss to his temple, then another. He exhales slowly.

“What do you need, darling?” you murmur against his skin, “What can I do?” He’s silent for a moment.

“I don’t know,” he admits softly, shaking his head against the pillow. “I dunno.” You nod.

“It’s okay.” You lay down beside him, one arm slung over his waist, face pressed to the back of his neck and your other arm tucked up against yourself. “It’s okay.” For a little while the only sounds in the room are his and your breathing. He reaches for your hand, interlocks his fingers with yours. Minutes go by. You close your eyes but don’t sleep. Then it feels like he’s trembling, and you hear his breath hitch. His grip on your hand tightens. He’s crying. You squeeze his fingers where they curl under your palm, your arm bracing more tightly around his body. The sound is so quiet, only a few gasping breaths every now and again, but you can still hear it rattling out of him. He could have died today. His children could have died today.

You don’t say anything–– there’s nothing to say. All you can do is hold him, and you do. When the shaking subsides a little, you move to cradle his head with your other arm and you stay like that until you’ve both fallen asleep.

In the morning, it’s almost as if nothing happened. David is a little bit quiet while you both eat breakfast, but that’s not terribly unusual. While you sit, he places a hand on your thigh, as if to silently reassure you that he’s fine. With a kiss to your forehead, he gets up to dress for work (there are a few of his suits in your closet), and when you’ve finished your tea you do the same. He has to leave a bit before you do, and you walk with him to the door.

“I’ll call you when I’m done today, all right?” he asks. You nod. “Okay.” His expression changes, becomes softer. “I love you,” he says earnestly, his voice soft. You can’t help but smile, even through your worry.

“I love you too, Dave.” He kisses you gently, a hand on either side of your face, and lingers there longer than he might ordinarily. Your hands find his waist and give a comforting squeeze. He smiles. Part of you wonders if he really is just okay. His expression seems peaceful as he kisses the side of your head again and turns to leave. You can only hope that you’re right.