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Jack’s eyes find you the second he hears you laugh.
Quite literally a second because he’s always keeping an eye on you when you’re out together, not controlling or because he cares who you’re with. He just always wants to know where you are relative to him, just in case something happens and he needs to get to you. Military training, he supposes.
His eyes find you because he knows that laugh. It’s not your real laugh. It’s fake, the one you put on when you’re not super present and are hiding your sadness. To anyone else it’s very convincing, they don’t blink at it.
He narrows his eyes a little to watch you better as you chat with McKay, Samira and Parker. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see your leg bouncing under the picnic table, can see the way you chew on the side of your cheek every so often.
“You gonna pay attention to this conversation or just stare at your girl all day?” Robby asks Jack. Most of the crew is at a local park for a picnic celebrating Dana’s birthday.
“I’ve been paying attention and heard everything you said. Unlike you I can multitask.” Jack finally lets his eyes leave you as he turns to look back at Robby. Shen and Whitaker stifle laughs. Everyone knows it’s not true and just Jack giving Robby shit. You have to be able to multitask to be a good emergentologist, and Robby is one of the best, Jack’s told him that many times.
“I agree though,” Jack nods at Robby. “The patient satisfaction scores are bullshit. They should automatically be a ten or whatever the highest thing on the fucking form is if they’re brough in via ambulance and survive.”
“People come in by ambulance for really stupid things that don’t really require us saving them,” Whitaker observes.
“And people walk in with injuries they really should have come in an ambulance for,” Robby shrugs. “It would even itself out.”
“Exactly,” Jack nods. He looks back over at you for a second and then stands up. “I’ll be back.”
“Sure you will,” Robby drawls, smirking.
Jack ignores him as he starts walking over to you. “Hey,” he says to the group as he reaches you, sets his hands on your shoulders from behind and squeezes. You feel a little better already, just from being closer to him. The rest of the group continues chatting as he leans down to speak just to you. “Take a walk with me for a few minutes?”
You furrow your brows, tilt your head and look back a little to see him. “Um, sure. Is there a reason why? Are you sure? It seemed like you guys were having a good conversation.” You flick your head towards Robby, Shen and Whitaker.
“I’m sure. And does there need to be a reason why I want to take a walk with my girl?” He turns his head a little more and places a soft kiss just below your ear.
My girl. Even though you’ve been together for a while now it still makes you a little dizzy to hear.
“No, I guess not.” You give him one of those fake smiles and he knows it’s not because you’re trying to fool him, not really, deep down you know better than to even try by this point, but because you’re in public. Have to keep up appearances.
“Well I know not, so.” He leans back up and moves his hands from your shoulders. “I’m stealing her for a minute.” He nods at the group. It pulls some smirks but nobody says anything, they all just nod. As you get up Jack finishes off the little bit of cider left in the bottle you were nursing.
Once you’re up Jack laces his hand with yours and leads you over to the park’s path, walks down it a ways with you in silence before pulling you off it. He walks with you on the grass until you come to a spot where the ground starts to slope down, the top of a little hill that provides a nice view of the sun setting over the city. You’re more than far away enough that nobody can hear or see you.
“What’s up?” You titter a little, clearly a bit nervous.
Jack nods at the ground and you both sit, feet out in front of you, grass and soil dry from the heat of the day. “You were totally spaced out and not really there.” He eyes you carefully. “You’re back now, for the most part, but I wanted to see what’s up away from everyone.”
You push your bottom lip out a little and shrug, shake your head. “I’m f-” Jack gives you a look. “I don’t even know why I bother trying,” you mutter.
“Neither do I. But I get it. Wanting to hide it and not let me see because you know I don’t like seeing you upset. I feel the same.” He squeezes your leg gently and doesn’t press when you’re quiet for a bit as you think of what you want to say.
“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” you murmur. You already know the answer but you’re using the question as an answer itself.
“Yeah.” Jack pauses and cocks his head at you, catches your eyes and holds your gaze as he speaks. “Would you believe me if I told you it was okay not to know?” He already knows the answer but he’s using the question to tell you it’s okay.
You let out a breath through your nose and shake your head a little as you look away from him and out at the city, Jack doing the same. “I know it is. Rationally. But the irrational side of my brain doesn’t.”
You see Jack nod out of the corner of your eye. He gives you space to think, sits in the background buzz of the park with you, hand running up and down your thigh to ground you, remind you he’s here.
“I’m just sad.” You shrug. You aren’t teary, don’t even have the urge to cry at the moment. It’s a hollow sadness. One that just vaguely aches and makes you tired. “There’s no reason for it. Just am.”
“Would you believe me if I told you that’s okay too?” Again, he knows the answer but uses the question to make the point.
“Is it though Jack?” You reply quickly. It surprises him, catches him off guard.
He turns back to study your face, see if he can read what this is from your profile. He has a feeling he knows where this is going.
“It doesn’t feel okay,” you continue. “Not even for me, but for you. It’s not fair to you. For me to just randomly be sad sometimes and unable to explain why. Because fuck Jack, I just want to sit here and be sad. I just want to sit here and be sad and maybe cry if I can get past whatever fucking emotional brick it is that’s stopping me from doing so. But what I don’t want is for you to have to sit here with me in it.”
Jack lets your words hang in the air for a few seconds so that you know he’s really listening and taking them in, but not so long that it feels like he’s having to think of a response.
“It is okay. I promise you it is.” As much as he loves eye contact he knows it would be a little too much for you right now so he doesn’t push you to look at him or try to catch your gaze. “And it’s okay for us to just sit here. We can just sit in the sad. I hate seeing you be sad and struggle, yes. But sometimes you just need to sit here and feel it. And I want to be there next to you when you do. You don’t have to be okay and happy all of the time. You’re allowed to just sit here and be sad or whatever emotion you want to be. You don’t constantly have to be working towards being better when you get sad like this. We can stay here for a bit. I’m not going to let you or us unpack and move here, but we can visit sometimes. You can feel whatever it is you need to feel in front of me and with me. I want you to.”
You let out a shaky breath. You know that what he’s saying is true. At least part of you does. But it’s so hard to accept.
“And there are very few things in life that I have to do anymore, sweetheart.” He gives your leg a little squeeze before resuming running his hand up and down it. “You’re not holding me hostage or keeping me here against my will. I know I don’t have to sit here with you while you’re sad and don’t know why. I don’t feel like I have to. I choose to. I choose to sit next to you here in the sadness the way you do for me when I want to sit and be sad and not know why. I choose you.”
“You should choose better.” It’s whispered. “You deserve better.”
Jack starts shaking his head before you even finish the word better.
“Yes, Jack, you do,” you say before he can get anything out. “Because you’ve been through so much already. You deserve to be with someone better. Someone easier to love who isn’t constantly putting you through shit like this. I know you love me, Jack, I promise. I never doubt that. But sometimes I don’t understand why you love me. Why you love me when I can be so fucking awful and all over the place and sad randomly for no reason. Do you see that Jack? Do you really see me? What you put yourself through by loving me?”
Jack’s hand stills and squeezes your thigh again, longer this time, but still at the perfect pressure. He hurts, physically, his heart hurts seeing you like this, hearing your voice and knowing how much you mean what you’re saying. He hates it. He wishes he could take away your pain. But he can’t. All he can do is try to help and try to make you feel a little better and at the very least not let you be alone in it.
He adjusts his position so that he’s turned toward you a bit more, the side of one of your legs and one of his pressed together.
“Darling, the way you see and feel about yourself is not the way I see or feel about you. Just like the way I see myself and feel about myself is not the way you see or feel about me. We’re our own worst critics, as fucking cliché as that shit is. And I love you and mean this with all the love in the world, but you’re right. You can be awful at times. But the only person you’re ever awful to is yourself. Like you are right now.” You can feel tears start to form behind your eyes at that. Not because it’s mean and his words have hurt you. Because he’s right and you know it.
He takes in a deep breath and looks out at the city for a moment before his gaze returns to you. “I don’t put myself through anything by loving you. I’m not burdened by loving you. And of course I see you, I always have,” he says with a heavy conviction. “You think I fell in love with you by accident? Or blindly? With my eyes closed?”
You swallow thickly, can feel his eyes on you. “No.” Tears sting at your eyes now. “But still. You shouldn’t have to do this with me. I shouldn’t be work. But I am.”
“Oh honey,” Jack breathes out softly. He takes a second and then shifts, sits a bit further up and grabs your legs, pulls them diagonal a bit and you a little closer so they can rest on top of his and you can look at each other better.
“I need you to listen to me, yeah? Really listen.” Jack holds your face with his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones for a second while he looks you in the eyes. “Loving you is not the chore that your past has made you think it is.” He squeezes your face a little. “It’s not a chore at all. It’s a fucking privilege.”
That gets a few tears to slide down your face and Jack’s thumbs are quick to wipe them away.
“And I know you can’t see that, and that you might never be able to see that. But it’s okay, because I do. And I will tell you it over and over and over and over until you understand why Robby tells me nicely to shut the fuck up sometimes.” He gives you the smallest knowing smirk.
You laugh at that, and it’s watery, and through your tears, but it’s real. You love the way he does that. Knows when to instill just enough lightness into this serious of a conversation to keep you grounded and from getting completely overwhelmed, but also knows when it’s not appropriate in a serious conversation.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper through some tears and shrug at him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jack whispers back. He leans in and kisses your forehead, lets his lips linger there before pulling them away and resting his forehead against yours.
“You have to repeat this speech a lot.”
“I know.” He says it so matter of fact as he pulls his forehead from yours to look at you better. His hands leave your face and take yours in his, fingers tangling together.
“It makes me feel really bad. Like it’s going to push you away. Or like you’re going to think I don’t trust you or your love or-”
“I don’t think that, nor will I. I understand, baby. I really do. Because I feel the same way sometimes. I don’t care that you need reassurance at times. It doesn’t make me feel like you’re questioning me, or my love, or our love. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the problem or somehow doing something wrong or not doing enough or anything else. It makes me feel like sometimes your brain’s chemicals get a little fucked up. And you know what? So do mine. I think we’ve had this conversation at least a time or two with the roles reversed. I think you have to repeat a version of the speech I’m giving you right now a lot. And do you care?”
You shake your head gently. “No. I would give you it every day if you needed me to.”
“Guess what?” he whispers.
“So would you?” You give him a little pout and big doe eyes that show how much you love him and it’s so adorable he has to smile a little.
“Yeah. So would I.”
He leans back in but this time he gives you a kiss on the lips, lingers just long enough before he breaks it and nuzzles his nose against yours. You keep your eyes closed as he pulls away, a little smile on your face. You open your eyes just in time to see the nearly beaming smile it pulls from Jack.
The two of you sit there for a few more minutes before you finally turn to look at him. “We should go back.”
“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “We can stay longer.”
You shake your head. “No, I’m ready.” Jack nods, gently moves your legs off his and stands up before holding both hands out to help you up.
Instead of taking your hand and starting to walk back though he slips his arms around you, slides his hands in your back pockets and pulls you right up against him by your ass. He raises his eyebrows and smirks a little, a slight bobble of his head when it makes you gasp in surprise.
His hands leave your pockets and slide up so that they’re wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. You rest your hands on his chest, look up at him knowing he wants your eye contact. Jack smiles when you give it to him.
“I see you. I see all of you. Even the parts you don’t want me to see. The parts you’ll never show anyone else. And I did before I fell in love with you. And I still chose to jump head fucking first into being in love with you and even right now, sitting here in the sad with you, I’d make the same choice without a second thought.” One of his hands comes to hold your jaw, thumb on one side of your chin, his other four fingers on the other side, index finger right in front of your ear and the other three just below your ear and on your neck. “I choose you. All of you. Not just the you that you like and think is good enough. I choose all of you because I love all of you and I know that all of you is more than good enough. I choose you and I will always choose you and I know I’m lucky to get to make that choice. I love you.”
Jack kisses you then, hand tightening just a little to hold you still for him. They’re chaste at first but turn deeper, his tongue running over one of your lips, a silent question. You let your hands run up his chest and over his shoulders before sliding your fingers into his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck and open your mouth for him in silent answer, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and taste you, let you taste him. The taste of you pulls a groan from deep in Jack’s chest and you shiver. You only pull back when you’re desperate for air and Jack chases your lips with his. It makes you giggle.
You can feel him smile against your lips as he rests his forehead against yours again.
“Thank you,” you murmur. “And I choose you too. I love you.”
“I know.” You feel him smile a little wider against your lips before he gives you another kiss.
You bite your lip as he pulls away, let your eyes open back up slowly to his grin. Jack grabs your hand and leads you back towards the path.
It hits you a few steps in. “You taste like cider.”
“Yeah,” Jack nods.
“You don’t like cider. You don’t drink it.”
“Yeah,” Jack shrugs slightly. “But I was drinking beer and you hate the taste of beer. And I knew I was going to kiss you like that so when you got up from the table I finished off your cider so you wouldn’t taste the beer on me.”
You beam up at him and he just smiles, can feel your happiness. He knows it hasn’t made it all better, that you might still be sad overall, that it might linger for a while.
You walk in a comfortable silence for a minute until you break it.
“They’re going to think we fucked, probably.” You smirk a little at Jack.
“You wanna play into it?” He’s so unfazed and stoic about it. So Jack. “I can go grab some little twigs to put in your hair, a leaf, some grass.”
You burst out laughing. Properly. Fully. Real.
“Twigs?!” For some reason him saying the word twigs is hysterical to you.
“There’s my favorite sound,” Jack laughs with you. “Well, one of them, anyway.”
“Oh?” You glance up at him as your laughter trails off.
“You would have been making another one of my favorite sounds if we had in fact fucked,” he says nonchalantly, swinging your hands a little.
“Oh,” you breathe. You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “Do you have more favorite sounds?”
“Course.” You see him nod out of the corner of your eye. “You saying my name. You saying you love me.” He squeezes your hand. “And the sound of your heartbeat when I rest my head on your chest.”
You bite your lip at that. It’s so sweet it almost makes your heart ache. “Awwwww!” You squeeze his hand and lean into him. “You’re such a romantic, pookie.”
“Ha!” The pet name catches him by surprise. “No.” Jack shakes his head at it, but his smile gives him away.
“Pookie is cute!”
“Do you understand the actual level of shit I would get from Robby if he ever heard you call me pookie? I’d have to get a new best friend and a new job.” You giggle at him. “You’re laughing but I’m serious.”
“I’ll go into work with you one day this week and conspire with Myrna to come up with an even better nickname than fruitcake for Robby if you’ll let me call you pookie sometimes.”
Jack stops walking and looks down at you, pretends to eye you up for a second before giving you a little smirk. “Come up with something really good that’ll drive him up a wall and I’ll consider it.”