Lost, Jack Shephard, 027 Parents, PG-13
Title: Mothers and Fathers
Fandom: Lost
Character: Jack Shephard
Prompt: 027 Parents
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 913
Author's Notes: In my opinion Jack and his mom don't get enough screentime.
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and Co. at Bad Robot and ABC.
The room dance around him through churning thoughts, and all he could feel was a stinging pain in the back of his throat. He didn't know if it was from yearning to numb his mind or from yearning to escape this madness. Every night he laid here, eventually collapsed in front of the couch, thinking of how pathetic he'd become. He amused himself with the knowledge that at one time, he was worshiped. He was their leader. The one who was going to save them. But he couldn't picture it in his mind. He didn't want to see their faces. Every night he drank until he had to give into the fact that nothing could take away memories. He would wake up remembering none of it; obviously not as he was pathetic enough to try it again and again.
There was a hollow thump beating rapidly like drum in a marching band, pounding against the rhythm of the misshaped thoughts he held. It grew louder and louder...he began to look at it as a sign that the rest of the world was finally in tune with him.
Until his vision suddenly became halfway clear, clear enough to notice his mother standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, an empty bottle in her hands. For some reason her eyes were wet...
A loud crash beside him sent him jumping, and the rush of fear that pumped inside him never left.
"God mom," he muttered, running a hand over his head.
"Don't you dare make me the bad guy."
He was fairly certain he had heard that line more than a few times from her in his life. But he had never heard her sound so shaken. So afraid...
"I call Kate today to check on you two," she began, her voice shaking like the beginnings of an earthquake waiting to be unleashed, "and guess what I find out? You left her almost a month ago. You didn't even say goodbye to Aaron, and I'm sure your goodbye to her wasn't respectable either." He didn't say anything because he knew she wouldn't understand; it was the same pattern he had always taken with their arguments, and as always she restated her concerns more sharply, with more disappointment. "He's supposed to be your son, Jack. You proposed to her!"
"Well he's not my son!" He couldn't remember the last time he cried in front of his mother. Probably when he cost his baseball team the game in eight grade. "I know, mom. I know about the affair."
"What are you talking about?" She hissed.
Desperation crashed through him; he had lost the sense that would warn him not to go down this road.
"Dad's second family in Australia!" He shouted. "The reason I was on that plane! Why didn't you ever tell me I had a sister?"
Her mouth hung open as her head tilted sideways, left to right; he closed his eyes. It was making him dizzy.
"Because I wanted to protect you from him," she began, her voice so hushed the sirens breathing in the distance overwhelmed her words, "I didn't want you to hate him anymore than you already did. He wasn't going to be apart of their lives, so I didn't want you being apart of theirs. It wasn't your burden to worry about. But...what does this have to do with Aaron?"
None of this made sense. He shook his head, less gracefully then she had, tears pouring from his eyes like water leaking through a rusty pipe. She bent down to his level, taking his arms in her hands. The touch shook him, because for a moment it was like she could actually help him. But no matter what he couldn't tell her...no matter how appealing it was to get this off his chest, to get help...this was his burden. And he had chosen to live with it on his own.
"Jack..." it was the tone he remembered after that game when, for the first time, he admitted how frustrated he was with everything. She wanted to help him as much as he wanted her help. "What aren't you telling me?"
She tried to look him in the eye but he looked away, silently crying. His skin trembled under her hold; he was so weak he thought he might collapse if she let go. But she didn't. Instead she wrapped her arms around him, holding onto him tightly to make sure he didn't break beneath her, and he let himself burry his head into her shoulder, the tears rushing out of him as though he hadn't aged since birth.
"I'm sorry," he whispered; he was pretty sure she was crying too. He hated it when she cried.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about."
Her voice was broken from tears and he recoiled with guilt as he wondered how much he hurt her; how much his lies and him cutting her out of his life had been eating up the wounds she already wore. But she refused to let go of him, and he knew at that moment that it would be harder to lie to her than ever.
"I miss him."
At least it wasn't a lie. He gave into the comfort she offered, relieved that at least he could find some truth to accept her help with.
"I miss him too."
Fandom: Lost
Character: Jack Shephard
Prompt: 027 Parents
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 913
Author's Notes: In my opinion Jack and his mom don't get enough screentime.
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and Co. at Bad Robot and ABC.
The room dance around him through churning thoughts, and all he could feel was a stinging pain in the back of his throat. He didn't know if it was from yearning to numb his mind or from yearning to escape this madness. Every night he laid here, eventually collapsed in front of the couch, thinking of how pathetic he'd become. He amused himself with the knowledge that at one time, he was worshiped. He was their leader. The one who was going to save them. But he couldn't picture it in his mind. He didn't want to see their faces. Every night he drank until he had to give into the fact that nothing could take away memories. He would wake up remembering none of it; obviously not as he was pathetic enough to try it again and again.
There was a hollow thump beating rapidly like drum in a marching band, pounding against the rhythm of the misshaped thoughts he held. It grew louder and louder...he began to look at it as a sign that the rest of the world was finally in tune with him.
Until his vision suddenly became halfway clear, clear enough to notice his mother standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest, an empty bottle in her hands. For some reason her eyes were wet...
A loud crash beside him sent him jumping, and the rush of fear that pumped inside him never left.
"God mom," he muttered, running a hand over his head.
"Don't you dare make me the bad guy."
He was fairly certain he had heard that line more than a few times from her in his life. But he had never heard her sound so shaken. So afraid...
"I call Kate today to check on you two," she began, her voice shaking like the beginnings of an earthquake waiting to be unleashed, "and guess what I find out? You left her almost a month ago. You didn't even say goodbye to Aaron, and I'm sure your goodbye to her wasn't respectable either." He didn't say anything because he knew she wouldn't understand; it was the same pattern he had always taken with their arguments, and as always she restated her concerns more sharply, with more disappointment. "He's supposed to be your son, Jack. You proposed to her!"
"Well he's not my son!" He couldn't remember the last time he cried in front of his mother. Probably when he cost his baseball team the game in eight grade. "I know, mom. I know about the affair."
"What are you talking about?" She hissed.
Desperation crashed through him; he had lost the sense that would warn him not to go down this road.
"Dad's second family in Australia!" He shouted. "The reason I was on that plane! Why didn't you ever tell me I had a sister?"
Her mouth hung open as her head tilted sideways, left to right; he closed his eyes. It was making him dizzy.
"Because I wanted to protect you from him," she began, her voice so hushed the sirens breathing in the distance overwhelmed her words, "I didn't want you to hate him anymore than you already did. He wasn't going to be apart of their lives, so I didn't want you being apart of theirs. It wasn't your burden to worry about. But...what does this have to do with Aaron?"
None of this made sense. He shook his head, less gracefully then she had, tears pouring from his eyes like water leaking through a rusty pipe. She bent down to his level, taking his arms in her hands. The touch shook him, because for a moment it was like she could actually help him. But no matter what he couldn't tell her...no matter how appealing it was to get this off his chest, to get help...this was his burden. And he had chosen to live with it on his own.
"Jack..." it was the tone he remembered after that game when, for the first time, he admitted how frustrated he was with everything. She wanted to help him as much as he wanted her help. "What aren't you telling me?"
She tried to look him in the eye but he looked away, silently crying. His skin trembled under her hold; he was so weak he thought he might collapse if she let go. But she didn't. Instead she wrapped her arms around him, holding onto him tightly to make sure he didn't break beneath her, and he let himself burry his head into her shoulder, the tears rushing out of him as though he hadn't aged since birth.
"I'm sorry," he whispered; he was pretty sure she was crying too. He hated it when she cried.
"You don't have anything to be sorry about."
Her voice was broken from tears and he recoiled with guilt as he wondered how much he hurt her; how much his lies and him cutting her out of his life had been eating up the wounds she already wore. But she refused to let go of him, and he knew at that moment that it would be harder to lie to her than ever.
"I miss him."
At least it wasn't a lie. He gave into the comfort she offered, relieved that at least he could find some truth to accept her help with.
"I miss him too."