#del jackson

It’s his cousin, Nel (short for Nelson, but Del always liked that, Del and Nel), eighteen and rebellious, that ends up helping the most. He takes Del out to the cinema and they meet his boyfriend there. Del likes Gavin, but his aunt and uncle don’t- something about “bad influences”- so they can only meet up other places. It’s after the film, as they’re walking out, that a couple guys seem to have an issue with how Nel and his boyfriend are holding hands. They say things Del knows are supposed to be mean, but Nel doesn’t get mad or scared. There’s no fight or flight. He just sighs and asks Gavin in a quiet voice to get the manager.

While he’s gone, Nel says nothing. Not until one starts getting in his face, yelling at him to say something. Then Nel sticks the hand that isn’t holding Del’s in his pocket and leans back almost casually.

“You hungry?” he asks. The guy just… stops.

“What?”

“We were planning to get something to eat. You can join us if you want.”

He doesn’t want, but he and his friends walk away without a fuss when the manager comes.

Later, Del asks in awe how Nel did it. Wasn’t he scared? How was he so brave? Nel laughs, but it isn’t a happy laugh.

“It’s not ‘bout ‘brave,’” he says. “It’s about compliance.” Del doesn’t know what that means. “Fear’s a really messed up sort of power when it’s done on purpose. And it’s just a bad warning sign when it’s not. Lashing out won’t help no one, and running away’s not gonna work forever. So instead you gotta be contrary. Figure out what that fear wants you to do, and then don’t.

“Those dicks wanted me to fight, so they could keep thinking I’m wrong; the enemy. So I offered to be friends. Ma, pops, they’re afraid of Gavin. They’re afraid he’s gonna get me in trouble ‘cause he doesn’t understand that I can’t get away with the same things he can. I can’t buy my way out of my mistakes. They make this a real unfriendly place to be ‘cause they want him to be as scared as they are. But running away won’t help, no matter how much their fear wants him to. We’re still gonna love each other. So instead of running away and breaking my heart, he stays and takes care of me. He learns the world how I see it, so instead of pulling me into fear by accident, he can protect me from it on purpose.

“Look, cuz, there’s a lot in this world to be scared of. You just gotta figure out what’s behind it and get good at arguing. Fear says ‘there’s something hiding in the dark,’ you say ‘then why can’t I hear it?’ It says ‘you’re running out of air,’ you say ‘if light can get in, so can air.’ It says ‘they’re going to attack you,’ you say ‘not if I distract them first.’ It says ‘you can’t do it,’ you say ‘watch me.’

“But most important, and I need you to listen to me here, kay? You listening?” Del nods with all the gravity an eight-year-old can muster. “You remember nothing else, you remember this: Fear tells you ‘you should be ashamed of what you are,’ you say ‘I should only be ashamed of what I do.’ If you not hurting nobody, you got nothing to be ashamed of.”

It doesn’t always work, of course. When Fear says ‘you’re going to get hurt,’ you can’t just say ‘no, I won’t.’ You have to ask ‘will it be worth it?’ But it helps.

So when Del is eleven and a new kid comes to school, Fear yells ‘Danger.’ and Del looks at the distance everyone has put between them and this serious-looking kid with eyes like storm clouds, and at the extra sweets his mum had packed, and he thinks back ‘Yeah, but dangerous to who?’

-

It’s not always easy being Shay’s friend. It’s pretty hard sometimes actually. And there’s a fear that Del recognizes from his aunt and uncle. He’s afraid that one of these days, he’s going to get in trouble because Shay doesn’t understand that they’re different.

Shay is… Shay is a wildfire. A whirlwind. Shay is something that sweeps you up with a force beyond your comprehension, and if you’re not careful, you’re going to break or burn before it passes. 

Del had thought them serious at first, and they are sometimes, but he wouldn’t describe them that way. Passionate, maybe. Restless, definitely. Impulsive, unfortunately. Terrifying, yes. But serious, no. And wrong, never. All Del’s life, something has been wrong, and he fears both what it is and that he’ll never figure it out, but he thinks ‘I’ve lived just fine so far without knowing, and at least it’s not Shay.’

Even when Shay gets stressed over History class and their teacher’s house floods. Even when bullies repeatedly trip and break their noses. Even when Mrs. Patrick sends Shay to the headmaster with mutters about expulsion and a strong wind sends a rock hurtling through her window. When they break up with Lisa and it storms for a week. When Chris calls their parents freaks and the ground shakes. When they’re in one of their moods and a teacher snatches their fidget tool from their hands, only to drop it with a cry of pain as the smell of burnt flesh fills the room. Through it all, Del knows that whatever is wrong in their life, it isn’t Shay.

That doesn’t make it easier when Shay is annoyed and he feels like he stepped on a Lego every time he tries to talk to them about it. Or when they’re excited and the wind near them is so strong it’s hard to breathe. Or when they’re upset and Del has to walk all the way to the Blackwood Institute in 40C heat because a series of accidents have slowed transit. Or when they take up freerunning and they laugh at Del’s worry every time they take a fall that would send anyone else to A&E. Or when Shay realizes how these things affect Del and they get that stricken look and avoid him for a week.

It doesn’t make it easier when Shay acknowledges none of this.

They never lie about it- Shay’s a terrible liar- but they talk around it or laugh it off. And it’s the only time Del ever sees anything like fear in their eyes, so he doesn’t push it.

‘You’re going to get hurt,’ Fear says, time and time again.

With Shay holding his hand as he tells his family he’s gay. With Shay threatening to burn down the stage if he doesn’t get the part. With Shay staying up late to tutor him in math. With Shay offering to unleash their parents on the teacher who calls him stupid. With Shay backstage, very carefully learning how to apply make-up because Del’s hands are shaking too hard from nerves. With Shay laughing and laughing as he cringes over their puns. With Shay always, always stepping in between him and the dark. Del replies, ‘Yeah, but it’s worth it.’

-

Shay had sworn they’d be there opening night of Del’s first lead performance. They were going out of town for a while, but they’d sworn they’d be back for it. The wrongness has been getting worse and worse, and the only time it seems to get better is when Del’s on stage, but that doesn’t matter if it’s just replaced by the wrongness of Shay not being there. They’re supposed to talk tonight. High on Del’s success, they’re supposed to talk and Shay is supposed to help figure this out and then maybe, hopefully, they’ll talk about their thing too. But they can’t do that if Shay isn’t there.

They aren’t there before the play. They aren’t there after. They don’t respond to any messages. They don’t answer any calls. Over and over people come up with congratulations. With praise. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because Shay isn’t there. The cast goes out for the afterparty, but they all give up on talking to Del quickly, and it doesn’t matter.

At 3AM, unable to sleep, Del resorts to messaging Shay’s dad, asking if they’re okay, breath held until lungs scream in an attempt to beat back the panic.

‘Something is wrong,’ Fear says. ‘So what?’ Del asks.

‘Shay is hurt/dead/wrong,’ Fear says. ‘Even if they are, they’ll recover,’ Del says back. ‘Shay always recovers.’

‘You’re going to get hurt,’ Fear says. ‘It’s worth it for Shay,’ Del snaps.

Mr. Blackwood messages back “They will be.” and “I promise they’ll call as soon as we get them back.” As if that isn’t utterly terrifying. It’s okay. It’s okay, that’s just how Shay’s dad is. They’ve always said he never realizes he’s being creepy until someone tells him.

‘There’s no air,’ Fear says. And Del’s eyes are hard to force open, but open they do. ‘If the light can get in, so can the air,’ Del replies.

Del messages Mr. Blackwood “When?”

“Soon,” he says.

“Can I wait with you?”

“Of course.”

Del doesn’t have to ask where. Shay’s dad is always at the Institute. The doors are locked, but someone is always there. It’s not the night guard but Mr. Blackwood’s cat that opens the door, though, somehow, and leads Del down to the archives.

‘You’re being watched,’ Fear says. ‘I really don’t care,’ Del replies.

The office door is open. Mr. Blackwood stands when Del walks in. He’s not big on touch, Del knows. Or eye contact. But he puts his hands on Del’s arms and looks in Del’s eyes when he says, “They’re going to be alright, Miss Jackson.” and doesn’t seem to mind when Del throws her arms around him and sobs into his shoulder, because something just turned right in the world and it doesn’t matter because Shay’s still missing.

“Jon?” someone asks from behind her. Martin. Del can’t bear to look up.

“We’re alright, Martin,” Jon says, rubbing a hand over Del’s back.

“Right… I’ll make us some tea.”

Martin gives better hugs than Jon, so it’s him Del is sitting with on the couch half an hour later, talking about her options and one of the Institute therapists who can help if she wants to think about transitioning, and it’s all a bit overwhelming honestly, but it’s a good distraction until the sound of a door creaking open has them all falling silent. There’s a door that shouldn’t be there. Sasha comes through first, inhuman hands depositing a man’s head on Jon’s desk. The rest of his body seems to be draped over Ms. Tonner’s shoulder. Her eyes flash in the light and her teeth seem a bit too sharp through her grimace. And Del really couldn’t give a shit about any of that, because there’s Shay, smiling an exhausted smile, and it’s actually kind of nice how warm they are when she hugs them, even if it would worry Del on anyone else.

“Oh shit,” they say after a second. “The play.”

“It’s fine,” Del assures them, wiping away her tears. “Wasn’t my best performance anyway.”

“Fuck that,” Shay says. “I bet you were perfect.”

“So,” Shay says later as Del lays in their bed beside them, struggling to keep her eyes open. “You’re a girl.”

“So,” Del says through a yawn, “you’re a monster.”

“Yeah, but you knew that even when you thought I was human.” They laugh as Del fails to blindly smack their arm. There’s a long moment of silence, and Del is almost asleep when they finally say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asks. “Being a monster? Or not telling me?”

“Both?”

“Hey.” Del waits until Shay finally looks over at her. “Never be ashamed of what you are. Only what you do.”

“Then I’m sorry for lying.”

Del laughs. “You never lied. You’re a terrible liar. I would’ve pulled it from you way before now if you’d lied.”

“Still.”

“Apology accepted. Now shut up and get some sleep.”

“You know I don’t actually need to sleep?”

Del forces her eyes open one last time, just so she can roll them. “Well I do, so you might as well get some anyway.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, arsehole.”

‘You’re going to get hurt,’ Fear says. ‘Fuck off,’ Del replies.

-

Her parents don’t take it well. Being gay, they can understand. For some reason, being trans is harder. They try, she’ll give them that. They do try. It’s still uncomfortable being home, though. Instead, she spends more time with Shay, who doesn’t care. With Shay’s family, who just knew. At some point, even Ms. Tonner tells her, “You can call me Daisy, Del,” and they let her blame the hormones when she cries.

When Chris laughs at her, the floor below him mysteriously crumbles into a sinkhole. When she gets denied the first female role she auditions for, lightning hits the theater and the play has to be delayed for repairs.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” she tells Shay.

“Freak accident,” they lie, terribly.

When the Dark reaches out for her, it touches Shay and burns. When the walls start closing in and she can’t breathe, Shay crumbles them and all Del feels is a breeze.

‘You’re going to get hurt,’ Fear says.

‘It’s worth it,’ Del replies. And when a terrified man starts raving at Shay as they’re trying to show him out of the Institute, Del doesn’t hesitate to get between them and shut him down with a harsh order to leave. He still doesn’t go of his own volition, but he’s taken back enough for the spider on his neck to get a solid hold.

Martin goes to all her plays. Jon helps her apply to uni. Sasha runs lines with her. Basira reads all her books to help her study. Daisy shows her how to pin someone twice her size. Shay grins.

It’s worth it. 

But the summer after they graduate, Shay meets Willa. 

Del won’t deny being a bit jealous, but that isn’t why she doesn’t like Willa. It’s because Willa would never tell Shay “You shouldn’t have done that,” even if she was secretly pleased. Willa would never step between Shay and an angry man to keep Shay from doing something they’d regret. Willa wouldn’t do anything she could to pull Shay back when they got too close to the edge. Willa is fuel to the fire, and the problem isn’t even that.

The problem is, she makes Shay forget they don’t like fire, and they love her for it.

“I’m worried,” Del says. “I’m afraid. Shay, you’re going to get hurt.”

“No, I won’t,” Shay says. But that’s wrong. That’s not how you respond to the fear of pain. They smile at her, and it hurts. It hurts. “You’re wrong about her. It’s going to be fine.”

But it isn’t.

‘You’re going to get hurt,’ Fear says. ‘It’s worth it,’ Del replies. Will always reply. It’s worth it for Shay. Now and forever.

But.

‘They’re going to destroy themself,’ Fear says. ‘And there will be nothing you can do but watch.’

And that. That’s not. Nothing is worth that. But what else can she do? She can’t keep them safe from themself.

As long as Shay never told her they were a monster, they’d thought, then maybe to her they weren’t. They were wrong, of course. Shay isn’t a monster to her even now. Shay is her best friend, her family, and nothing less.

‘You can’t help them,’ Fear says, and Del says ‘I know.’

She goes to Jon before she leaves.

“I can’t stay,” she tells him. “I can’t watch them walk into this knowing there’s nothing I can do.”

“I understand,” he says, sad but honest. “We’ll still be here. You aren’t leaving them alone.” And she knows. That’s the only reason she can do this.

“Just… I don’t know what I’m going to do without them.” Jon’s still terrible at hugs, but he tries, and he still doesn’t care when she sobs into his shoulder. “They’re going to make it through this, right?”

“They will. I know this is hard, but we understand.”

“You can still call us, you know,” Daisy says from behind her. “We won’t say anything. You don’t have to be alone either.”

“Are you joking?” she laughs. “You’re all terrible liars.”

“Okay, call Martin, then.”

“No. No, I- I think I need to try, at least. And, you know, if sometimes it feels like I’m being watched… I won’t mind.”

“Good girl,” Daisy says, and makes Del lean down so she can kiss her forehead. “If you try to lose our numbers—”

“Martin will just add them back in, I know.”

“Good. Come on, think you still have some things at ours. You’re staying the night. We’ll take you to the station tomorrow.”

“You’re going to get hurt,” she tells Shay just before boarding the train that will take her to university. To the next chapter of her life. Without them. “I hope someday you can show up to one of my plays and tell me it’s worth it. But until then, I can’t bear to sit here and just let it happen. I love you. So much. But until you can say, with absolute certainty, that this is worth what you’ll lose… please don’t contact me.”

‘Well done,’ Fear says. ‘You got yourself hurt.’

‘If it makes them reconsider,’ Del replies, ‘just enough that they survive… then it’s worth it.’

‘You’ll never see them again,’ Fear says.