Dan had always liked libraries.
It started when he was a kid, of course, as most things did - libraries were free (which helped, when your mom didn’t make much money at her job), he didn’t have to talk to anyone, he could read in silence, and in Florida? The air conditioning was a godsend, during summers consisting of hot sidewalks, breathing in bathwater, and scorching sun in a cornflower blue sky (until the inevitable afternoon thunderstorm, that is). He liked libraries even now, and it was nice that Vallo had a couple of them available to peruse.
Row after row of neatly lined up books with spines facing outward, color coded, alphabetical order, that coarse cheap carpet and the library smell. He didn’t know what it was, exactly. Probably the decay of paper; you could get a sniff of the pages of books becoming more and more brittle in real time, but there was something comforting about a place to just sit in the muffled stillness for awhile. Folks inside were generally quiet, save for the occasional laugh of a child or the whisper of the librarians themselves.
He’d picked out a few new books to read during his free time (ha, what free time - he’d never finish these) and was heading for the check-out desk when he sensed someone browsing...math, of all things. The Shining extended outward and honed in, inner monologues of other library-goers dwindling to background noise, mere whispers that he could ignore - most of the time he did, when it came to the Shining. Surface thoughts floated to him, they had ever since he stopped drinking, and he never paid much attention unless he had to. Now, he found Five where Dan knew he would be, and it wasn’t like he’d linger awkwardly. He just wanted to say hi.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he smiled, shifting his selections to tuck them beneath his arm.
The appearance of a thirteen year old kid sitting on a table in what passed for the mathematics section, with a thick volume haphazardly slung over his crossed legs, was one that had inspired a certain amount of [...] tenderness from the local librarians. He’d politely asked for a pencil, and gotten one with a smile. When he asked for paper, they’d returned with recycled printer paper of which he could ‘just use the back’.
And just when Five had gotten settled in, sitting on the floor with a thick volume haphazardly slung over his crossed legs, a well-meaning elderly lady had pushed a juice box into his hands. He hadn’t known whether to scoff, bite her ear off or to accept it, but waste not, want not - so he accepted it, and then quietly returned to the task at hand, every now and then, pausing to scribble down notes in his own shorthand, or to take a sip from his juice box.
And then there was Dan. He’d noticed him a while ago, as the man scuffled through the aisles and browsed the offerings, but Five wasn’t a social creature, and for a man for whose the silence around him had arguably become a constant, and much-expected companion, Dan actually coming up to say hello was an minor annoyance. Dan definitely didn’t want to know what he did with major ones.
Five bit back a scoff, and instead peered up at him with big, but tired eyes, grabbed his juice box, and managed to squeeze a rather excellent slurpy sound from the straw, put the box back down and then pointed at the books under his arm.
“You don’t have the time.” It was common sense, almost. A quick scroll through the network had shown him enough - he led those AA meetings, worked in hospice, and also was in charge of some ‘hey, you died’ club that Five had no stake in.
“Oh - “ Dan looked down at the mini stack he was carrying. He probably didn’t have time, but he was damn well going to try. Sometimes he sneaked in moments to read - he kept a book in his locker at work, and when it was slow he’d pick it up and lose himself for a little while. It reminded him that he needed to get Azzie registered as some kind of support animal, so she could come to work with him - back home, she was a constant companion when it was still and quiet at the hospice center. At the mortuary, she didn’t know what to do with herself - a cat who could sense death was probably about to piss on his things in protest, for not being able to do what she was meant to do. “I’ll do my best, I suppose.”
That’s all he could do, was his best - in all aspects of life. Especially here.
He’d noticed the look of fatigue in Five’s eyes, the way the shadows lingered there like some forgotten rung of Hell, and while he wasn’t so gauche as to say something like you look tired he wouldn’t let it go remiss either. “Having trouble sleeping?” was what he decided on.
“Or maybe you could try putting less pressure on yourself, Dan.” With a quick flip of his hands, the book on his lap fell shut, and then, having decided that he’d put the book back in its proper spot later, Five pushed it to the floor. “And start with one book.” He reached for the papers around him and shuffled them together into a neat stack, and then grabbed the pencil.
“Well maybe I’ve got too much on my mind, Dan.” And although Five wouldn’t say the A-word, the reality of it was never that far away. “Or maybe my bed’s just uncomfortable. Or the whole world is too loud.” His shoulders dropped down in a lazy shrug.
“What do you think?” Regardless of how it sounded, it wasn’t really a challenge.
Did it matter what he thought? Probably not, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t offer to help. Though he was sure Five wouldn’t take it. “All of the above,” he replied, fingers tapping gently on the back of one of the books he held against his side - yeah, maybe he should start with one book, but he just liked having them too. Even if he had to renew or return them before he was finished - he’d never really gotten into digital reading, Kindles or whatever else. Maybe he was a little bit of an old soul, or however the saying went.
“What follows us from home doesn’t really go away that easily - “ He lived with a house full of people who were experiencing that now, so he didn’t expect miracles. What he’d done still haunted him too, and it had been years since he was desperate enough to want to cling to what he knew and remembered of his father, to tap into the rage and anger that let them share a connection - even if only for that moment he was beating someone’s face in at a bar, drunk and coke-fueled, heart pounding in his ears. “But if you want to catch a few decent winks, it’s a specialty of mine.”
He found himself peering up at the man’s tall - from his current perspective, at least - frame, and through narrowed eyes, he looked him over once again. Dan was a gentle giant - that much had been obvious right from the start, but Five hadn’t been prepared for exactly how disarmingly honest, friendly and gentle Allison’s new beau was in person. It annoyed him how this man had the determination to chip away at a mountain of half-truths and would eventually walk away with nothing but the starknaked truth. He wasn’t having it.
He relaxed - rolled his neck until something cracked, put the pencil down, and then dropped his hands into his lap. “Sure. All of the above.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but he also hadn’t intended for a trip to the library to turn into a bonafide therapy session. “I was -”
Disapproval washed over his face, a lone knuckle cracked under the pressure of his hands, and was quickly followed by a curt headshake. “No.” Five could have clarified, right there and then. He just didn’t care to.
“But you have a good day, Dan.”
Oh. Well, alright then.
That was obviously a brush-off, though Dan had experienced his share of worse brush-offs (after all, his father once threw him into a wall to get him out of the way). He wasn't really sure what else to say. There probably wasn't anything to say; therefore, he just offered a, "take care," and a nod before turning to head toward the circulation desk.
The whole encounter was a little confusing but based on what Allison said, back when they first started to date and she told him all about her family, he knew that Five had spent years and years alone in an apocalyptic wasteland. That was bound to carry its fair share of weight on a person, in addition to what happened afterward.
So he wasn't particularly offended, nor was he particularly fragile - he figured if Five wanted to take him up on his offer, to get some sleep or even just talk, he would when he was ready. You couldn't push people sometimes. If nothing else, he knew that much.
By now he was pretty good at gentle nudges though, so he'd see how it all played out.