geeky_agent | (no subject)

Jack waits until the door closes behind them before taking a seat in a chair. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and when he speaks his voice is soft.

"I'm sorry I yelled."

"It's all right. Things got heated. I shouldn't have sprung that conversation on you while we were downstairs."

Chris is sitting on the bed, across from him.

"Jack... I'm scared," she whispers.

He looks up at her. "Scared of what?"

She wrings her hands. "The future. What happens when I go back. Or you do."

There's an empty moment before he reaches out and takes her hands in his. "So am I."

She looks at him. "I don't know what to do."

"Neither do I. I just know I don't want to lose you." He looks down at their hands. The scar on the back of his left hand is plainly visible, a constant reminder of everything that happened on April 24th, and of its consequences.

"Part of me wonders if there's any hope of a future for us, and part of me thinks that if we want it enough we can create a future; maybe not a house in the suburbs with a picket fence, but a future we can be happy with."

"I never said I wanted a house in the suburbs with a picket fence," she says with a wan smile.

"I don't think about the future that much. Or the past. I try to live in the present but that has it own problems." Chris looks down at their hands.

"Yeah, it does." Like not changing things, even when you should, like getting stuck in a rut. Not that he feels he is stuck in a rut with her; but he knows it might happen, that someday they might just open their eyes and find they're just...bored with each other. Though right now he can't imagine how.

She really doesn't want to bring this up but the unanswered questions are killing her.

"I've mentioned, a few times, that I feel guilty. You've never really said anyting to that which...surprises me, I guess."

He rubs his thumb along the back of her hand, not looking at her because it's marginally easier to talk about this if he doesn't have to look at her and as much as he doesn't want to say any of this, he has to. Say it and he still might lose her; don't say it and he definitely will. It's not much of a choice. "I feel guilty, too. I still...I still feel guilty about what happened that day, and I feel guilty about this too. Like I haven't done enough damage already." He can feel the familair guilt, hear the familiar thoughts in his head, and he closes his eyes, bracing himself against the onslaught.

"And there's part of me that tries to explain it away that it's really Saunders' fault, and I shouldn't have to give something up that makes me happy because of something I didn't have any choice in, but...telling myself that just sounds selfish somehow, and it doesn't quite work. Not surprisingly. I don't know if any of it's true, but even if it is, I'm not sure it would keep me from feeling this way. So instead, like everything else, I just try not to think about it," he says with a bitter laugh, though it cracks in the middle. The lump is back in his throat again.

A shaky sigh escapes her lips and she looks up at him. She can hear how much this is hurting him. The way his voice cracks. She can tell how much guilt he still carries around with him and in a way it almost breaks her heart.

Chris reaches out to touch Jack's face, brushing the back of her hand against his cheek.

But, and she wouldn't know how to explain this, she's also reassured by this. Even though she knows a little of how horrible it is to carry such guilt with you, it's almost a relief that he feels it.

She drops her hand and takes one of his hands in hers.

"Sometimes, being here with him, it's easy to forget what's happened. It's hard to imagine that when I do go home he won't be there. That brings it all back to me. And it's difficult knowing I've had something that my brother and sister haven't and never will and how unfair that is to them."

He squeezes her hand, though he's still not looking at her. "I know. Ryan seems so normal, so alive here that it'd be easy to forget that he wasn't alive, if it wasn't--" If it wasn't for the memories I have of shooting him in the back of the head. If it wasn't for the fact that every time he shows up in my nightmares half his face is missing.

"At the very least they won't have to go through saying goodbye again. I'm not sure whether it's easier or harder the second time," he says softly, after a long pause.

There really wasn't a first time.

And all this talk has led her full circle to the conclusion she came to after talking to Michelle, the same one she came to a few weeks ago.

"I don't want to break up with you."

He could get picky on the semantics--she doesn't want to but will she anyway?--but he knows what she's trying to say. Or he hopes he does.

He squeezes her hands again, looking up at her. "I don't want to break up with you either."

She looks at him and smiles slightly.

"So let's not."

He smiles very slightly, letting go of one of her hands as he can feel the knots in his stomach loosen.

"I think I can agree to that, he says, slowly brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek.

"Good," she whispers. Chris leans in and lightly kisses Jack.

He traces the line of her cheekbone wht the backs of his fingers until he can hold the back of her neck, pulling her a little closer and deepening the kiss.

After a moment he pulls back, brushing a couple strands of hair back from her face. "Do you want some company tonight? Though I think I'm too tired to do anything but sleep."

She cover his hand with hers and looks him in the eye.

"Yeah, I would."

He smiles. "Okay. You tired?"

"A little," she says with a sigh.

"Okay. I'm going to go back to my room and do a couple things. I'll be back in a couple minutes," he says, kissing her on the forehead before standing.

She nods. "I'll change for bed."

Jack quickly heads back to his room and grabs the t-shirt and sweatpants he usually sleeps in, making a stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth before heading back to Chris' room.

When Jack leaves, Chris changes into a tank top and flannel pants. She also makes a quick stop by the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth.

Jack changes into his sleeping clothes once he gets back to her room, turning out the light before climbing in bed. He curls up next to her, planting a soft kiss on her shoulder. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answers automatically.

"What are you thanking me for?"

"For everything," he says, punctuating the words with another kiss on her shoulder. "For listening. For caring."

Chris leans closer and gives him a small kiss on the lips. "You don't have to thank me."

"Just because I don't have to doesn't mean I shouldn't," he says, giving her another quick kiss.

She puts her hand on his chest. Well, you're welcome. Thank you for understanding."

"You're welcome." He snuggles in a little closer, draping an arm around her waist. "Good night, Chris. Sweet dreams."

She smiles and feels a little warmer with his arm around her.

"Night, Jack."