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the-dark-ghost · 2 months

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TRYPANOPHOBIA

True Detective AU • One-Shot

Rust frantically rubbed his hands against his own lap nervously. The doctor behind the desk gave him an intrigued look as he gently lowered his glass lenses down the bridge of his nose with a raised eyebrow. Rust smiled slightly trying to ease the tense atmosphere. The silence was suddenly uncomfortable but somehow put off the things Rust might have believed would happen right there. Finally, the doctor took a deep breath with tired eyes and handed a rectangular piece of paper into Rust's hands. Several studies that he had to do, in and of themselves, many of them totally tedious, the kind in which you have to spend most of the afternoon or morning inside a detestable hospital that smells of gel alcohol and death impregnated in every one of the walls painted a sickly pale white.

He sighed, not that he was really interested in wasting time, it wasn't something within the limitations of his life. One of the studies itself gave him the willies. A blood test to find out who knows what about his health, in fact, what the hell was Rust doing there? he barely remembered. He only knew that just reading "blood collection for analysis" made him cringe. He put a hand to his forehead and continued to stare at the paper with wide eyes before fixing his colorful gaze on the doctor who was watching him with slightly narrowed eyes. Rust held out his hand, then left, cursing himself for being an obsolete nurse.

"So that's how it all started" Marty expressed as he shoved his hands into his soft sweatpants from the cold "Wow, are you really that scared of a stupid fucking needle?"

Rust grumbled and rolled his eyes as he shook his head in a direction not directed at Marty, who gave a naive little laugh anyway as he took a deep breath. The man pulled a cigarette from under his torn black coat and took a lighter from his left pants pocket. Rust stretched out his legs on the seat and tipped his head back wearily. The smell of the freshly lit cigarette surprised him. He looked back at Marty, who was standing over him, and his eyes went wide.

"What the hell are you doing, you can't smoke in here!

"Who are you, a nurse? Leave me alone, Rust.

"Fuck you can't smoke, you'll get us in trouble!

"Hey" Marty complained, removing the cigarette with just two puffs from between his lips "I came to take care of you only because I'm an idiot who doesn't think things through. If it bothers you so much, I have no obligations, I'll go out and you can be sure that you won't mess things up here.

"No, no, no, wait" he begged... God, he hated begging, but he didn't want to be left alone either, "okay, smoke some more shit if you want... but at least let's hang out until you're done." finish the cigarette.

"What, are you crazy, Rustin? I'm going to freeze to death out there."

"Shit, Marty. I'm giving you options!

Rust frowned, a bead of sweat trickling down the sharp cheekbone of his face to fall down the side of his neck. Marty cocked his head, Rust's skin turning even paler than usual. Off to the side, below, his leg bounced off his foot, the nerves of anticipation penetrating deep into his system. Was the fear of that sharp piece of metal really that great? Marty was stunned and sighed, stubbing out the cigarette with the sole of his shoe after dropping it to the ground. Rust saw that and was relieved, he didn't show it anyway... Not that Marty wasn't aware of things.

Then a long silence turned them off, transforming an icy atmosphere into the same malaise expressed in a single moment of perhaps a few minutes until a nurse appeared to say two names:

"Smith, Gina"

"Cohle, Rust"

So that's where things changed. Considered a Rust who was beginning to think he could calm down, which was totally wrong, and a Marty with a certain grumpiness and a bit of intrigue on the palate, things just went wrong. Rust didn't know if it had been good that there was a woman in front of him or if he had simply preferred to go first to stop suffering while he waited. Marty was once more at his side, the two of them now standing by the door to the extraction lab. The man took off his steamed-up glasses and wiped them down, then put them back on his nose. Rust was wringing his hands... Marty noticed it too.

"Hey, man," he started to say, with an air of expired comedy in his voice, "I'll buy you a latte and some donuts if you go over there and be good."

He teased, Rust looked at him with fake anger. The wry look on his face was priceless and Marty laughed at his own bad joke as he stretched out his arms. Deep inside the room, the woman they had called earlier from Rust opened the door and left. Cohle watched the events and immediately witnessed his heart begin to pound with ferocious force, almost wanting to jump out of his chest. Marty brought a small smile to his face and placed a hand on Rust's slightly sloping shoulder from his pessimistic stance.

"Calm down... I'll go in with you if you want, old man."

"Really?" Rust asked.

His face twisted at the strangeness of Marty's words. But in the end, no sane person invites his enemy/almost friend, to accompany him because he is a bloody man who is afraid of a needle in the same way that a child is afraid of the dark under his bed, neither is that Rust was not afraid of him. From time to time, he woke up to turn on the bedroom light, crouching down and praying that he didn't find traces of blood and used needles full of old scraps on the floor…until now and luckily, that hasn't happened, not yet. Marty looked at him with determined eyes and shrugged.

"I have nothing to lose," he said, and Rust didn't need to object at all.

A few moments later, a man in a white coat appeared at the door and waved Rust inside. Marty didn't ask for any permission, just dared to come in with Rust without even being invited. When the doctor saw him, he just grimaced and turned his attention to Rust.

"Do you think your partner could wait outside?" he asked and Rust's eyes widened.

"No, no, no" he said, the doctor raised an eyebrow "he...he doesn't want to leave."

The man in the robe said nothing, just grimaced again and looked down. Marty walked over to Rust and planted his feet next to him. As the medic set things up, having reluctantly placed the band on Rust's thin arm. The man tensed as he saw the spire closing terrifyingly toward him. His body jerked slightly and he groaned, but Marty's hand on his shoulder kept him inside the seat.

"Fuck, Rust, calm down," Marty said in a whisper.

In the end, when the venipuncture began, Rust clung to Marty's hand, which had fallen downward when the doctor told him to stay still. He squeezed the offered hand too tightly during the extraction, nearly hurting Marty's fingers, who grunted as Rust released him, then flicked his wrist to eradicate the stinging discomfort. The doctor said a couple of things, directions and such after finishing sorting Rust's blood into little tubes. Marty didn't listen to half of the things, after all it wasn't even his problem, in the same way he nodded to every word assuming that he really cared only about looking good... of course, he didn't expect the doctor to believe that they were both in a relationship, although even so, he did not count on the intention to set the record straight, nor did Rust.

"I didn't think you'd keep your stupid word," Rust confessed before taking a long sip of his latte.

The two were in a small cafeteria near the hospital. Marty smiled, Rust still hadn't removed the little bandage on his arm that was visible because of his blue jean shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His pants nearly frayed on his thighs from dragging his hands over them so much. Marty took a bite of his chocolate-dipped donut and cleared his throat.

"So" he began, Rust looked up "Why are you so afraid of needles?

"Well... nobody loves them" Rust told him, desolate form avoiding the subject.

Marty stretched out his arms again, yawning, and settled back in his seat, staring at Rust obsessively. Rust put a hand to his hair and smoothed it down as he sighed.

"Come on, you almost passed out in there. I thought you were going to run out of the hospital."

"There's no reason to count certain things.

"Oh, for the love of Jesus Christ!" complained Marty "... come on, Rustin. I came here, I accompanied you and I stayed with you."

"That has nothing to do with it. People are afraid of needles! I'm not weird or abnormal. My condition is totally obvious."

"Actually..." after that Marty was silent, looking for a good answer. In the end he looked up at the ceiling and sighed "it's not quite normal. You are afraid of them, a fear that is not common."

"Are you a therapist or what the fuck?

"Shit, Rust. Don't always be defensive!

"Fuck you Martin!" he said almost with the voice in the tone of a scream, Marty still waited calm inside his chest.

"Why the hell did you want me to come with you?

"It doesn't matter.

"Why the fuck did you want me to come with you, Rust?" he said demanding an answer.

Once again Rust put a hand to his hair and combed it out. His leg swinging frantically on his right foot. Marty bowed slightly, several aged marks at the joints of Rust's arms. Entre closed his gaze and then widened it, blowing smoke from his body through his nose before dropping his spine over the back of his chair. In fact, he had understood things, but talking to Rust was certainly complicated. Could it be that in the same way he had raised his arms so that Marty would notice the marks without the need to say it in words? He would not have been able to affirm his theory of everything but it could be almost 54% true. Rust nuzzled his own neck sore from his poor posture and growled, large dark circles under his wide eyes.

"I see," Marty said quietly, Rust cocking his head.

He closed his eyes for a few moments, dark brown locks falling over his forehead as he lowered his head.

"Forgive me, man. I didn't mean to screw up your weekend, I know you had plans with Maggie and all...

"Don't worry" he said "she's with the girls in who knows where, maybe shopping... although I don't think so, knowing them well, they may be buying weapons to kill me when I arrive or something like that.

Rust chuckled a little and placed an elbow on the table to support the side of his face after having unrolled his shirt sleeves so the marks wouldn't show. Marty took a sip of his coffee, staring blankly at the wall behind Rust's shoulder and then rubbed his eyes, lifting his glasses with his hands underneath. Rust was watching him with a strange impatience. His stupid talk didn't make sense, none of his talks did, but this one was different, because Marty had agreed to do something that anyone would blow up in seconds and Rust just didn't know how to return the favor, by God, he'd even bought him a stupid latte and a couple of donuts!, that was already a lot.

From time to time Rust didn't know how to deal with kindness, wasn't used to it, let alone having to give it, anyway, right there, sitting across from Marty, in a diner with his donuts and his almost finished cup Rust really thought about how to be nice with genuine interest in making it...

He never got it anyway, but Marty got the point and that might be more than enough.

"You know, you don't have to count a damn, it's your life, Rust.

He told him, if it hadn't been for his soft tone, Cohle would have thought the other man was upset, but luckily that wasn't the case.

"I'll tell you at some point, I swear," Rust told him, his voice a thin thread of sweetened seriousness.

Marty just smiled and shrugged, realizing that the topic had ended there, and that he didn't want to harass who now seemed to have become more than an enemy/almost a friend in a heartbeat. He smiled and preferred to continue joking, that was simply the best, for him and above all for Rust.

"Next time we can ask the doctor to use a lancet," he told him.

Rust just laughed. A real genuine laugh that had been missing for a long time on his soft red lips. Marty felt that, at least for that day and what little he had managed to do in it, made him feel satisfied enough with himself.

"Fuck you" he said with an amused tone "I have more studies anyway, you know...

"I'll accompany you, don't worry" he interrupted him and then smiled, after a few moments Rust did exactly the same "but you pay for the damn breakfast the next time I'm here it cost me a fortune.

"Done deal" he finished saying.

After all the money didn't matter if the next time Rust had to face the hospital and his needles he would at least have someone to do it with.

Original fanfic post

It's not the best characterization of Rust, I admit. (My character here is horrible lol), but I had a lot of fun writing this.

#true detective #rust cohle #fanfic #marty hart #ao3 fanfic #fanart reblog #i ship them #marty x rust #rust x marty #fanfic link #ao3 link #TD #true detective s1

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