Sidestory:
No More
Nightmares
She knocked on his door and waited. Jace knew Jack's schedule by now enough to know that he didn't have one; apart from his hours at Home Depot (and he sometimes did overtime) he could be anywhere, doing anything. But she had that taste in her mouth and her blood said that he was home so...
"C'mon," she muttered. "Be home, Reilly."
There was a long, silent moment and then, on the other side of the door, there was a scrape of a chair leg on linoleum and the sound of a faint yawn. Another moment passed and the chain rattled on the door and it opened. Blinking out into the dimly lit hallway, Jack absently rubbed a hand through his dark hair, further standing the strands on end. Then he saw Jace and his green eyes lost their exhaustion and he smiled. “Jace,” he murmured. “Hey.” Stepping aside and holding the door open wide, he added, “Come on in.”
She obediently rolled inside, offering him a wry smile as she straightened her sweater. She'd taken to wearing baggy clothes lately, looking even tinier than normal in her wheelchair. "Hey, Jackalope. You look half-asleep, man."
“Been working a lot again. Must’ve drifted off at the table.” His low voice did indeed sound exceptionally worn and tired. As she passed him, though, he reached out suddenly and brushed light fingers over her shoulder before turning to close the door again.
"You retard." She folded her hands in his lap, red spikes falling into her face, bright hair getting overgrown and shaggy. "Sleep in the bed, Reilly. In the bed."
Awkwardly, she paused, one hand moving up to rub against the shoulder he'd touched, offering the facial expression she could most closely muster to a smile. "Hey, you, uh... got a minute, Jack?"
“For you? Always.” Neatly, he pushed her further towards his kitchen table and resumed his seat, eyes studying her face carefully. She looked so ill, he thought, feeling again the ache in his chest that had become so familiar. “What’s up?”
Jace drummed her fingers on the tabletop for a few moments, checking around Jack's apartment. Dark. Dingy. No cockroaches, not that she could see, much to her disappointment. After a while, fidgeting, she put her chin in one hand and looked him in the eyes.
"It's - " She faltered, gnawing on her lip. "Well, how are you? You first, then me. Y'know, I'm not that important, I'm smaller. And you're the alpha male, that makes you more important. Scratch your groin."
“Jace,” he sighed. Then he pulled his chair closer, eyes intent on hers. “You know how I’m doing,” he answered mildly. “Doesn’t matter how I am. You’re important. How are you?”
"Sick," she muttered. "I haven't been able to keep food down for weeks. It was so embarrassing. I fainted yesterday again, right out my chair, and Dad went apeshit."
Jack’s voice was suddenly tense, raw around the edges. “You fainted again?” he rasped. “Jace… You have to see a doctor or something. This isn’t good.”
"... I already went to see a doctor. I went this morning. Hate doctors. They're all fags. All that poking about with dead bodies, I mean, it's got to fuck you up something awful - "
“Jace.” Reaching out, he slid thin, artist’s fingers into calloused ones and squeezed. She was really scaring him. “What do you want to tell me, darlin’?” So caught in worry for her, he didn’t even notice the thickening of his faint Southern accent and the Tyche-associated term of affection. “Please? Tell me.”
She lost it. Her fingers curled around his, the colour draining from her face, leaving her ashen and almost-grey beneath her tan. Not quite bearing to meet his eyes, Jace stared at their clasped hands. It had been easier to look at the result the doctor told her than to look at Jack.
"M'pregnant," she muttered.
A sudden, thick silence filled the room and Jack’s fingers shifted, holding her hand tighter, his thumb absently beginning to stroke over her knuckles. Finally, he sighed, the sound sudden in the quiet. “His?” he murmured, almost more of a breath than a word.
"Who else's?" Jace sounded close to tears. "I'm so stupid. I didn't think that I'd be a knocked-up teen pregnancy and now I can't even get rid of it because I have this feeling I'm never ever going to see the stupid bastard in question alive again."
Not knowing quite what to say, there was only the briefest of hesitations before the dark-haired young man moved closer and pulled his friend into the warm circle of his arms, hugging her and closing his eyes tightly.
She buried her face in his shoulder, weeping, taking gasping breaths as she sobbed. "I can't handle this, Jack. S'too big. I don't want to take it any more."
“Sssh,” he murmured, beginning to rock her. “You can do this. I’m here. With you… I won’t go anywhere.”
"You d-don't deserve this." She clung to him, eyes squeezed shut tightly, cheeks wet as she tried in vain to stop crying. "It's not fair. It's not fair. I don't want any of it any more!"
“I know, I know… Ssshhhh, Jace. You don’t deserve this. You don’t. I’m sorry, darlin’.”
She sniffled, curling up in his arms, silent except for the hiccupy sobs coming from her mouth. Eventually, Jace just quietened, breathing him in, cheek on the wet spot of his shirt.
Without a word, he shifted forward and gathered her closer, cradling her in his arms. Then, with a faint exhalation of exertion, he stood, lifting her with him. Ever so carefully, he crossed the sparsely furnished studio apartment and deposited Jace on the bed. “It’ll be okay, Jace,” he murmured as he sat down next to her and stroked her hair back with an affectionate touch.
She hiccupped again, grey eyes red, looking swollen from crying and uncomfortable. "It won't, Jack. I'm not ready to be a mom. I can't be a mom. I can't even look after myself or you or anyone."
“You’ll be fine, darlin’. You’ll be a great mother. Honest. And I’ll be with you the whole time. I’ll help you. I promise.” Every word was heavier, more and more laced with determination. Slowly, Jack eased himself down to rest on his side next to her. “It’ll be fine.”
Jace looked at him, needily snuggling closer, wanting to believe. He sounded insanely sure of himself. Eventually, she dropped her eyes from his face, resting her head back on the silly tiger he used as a pillow, and sighed.
"I should have known," she muttered. "My stomach's all bumpy. You won't leave me, Jacks? You don't have to be part of this. It's not your mistake."
“And it’s not yours either.” Taking a deep breath, he pulled her closer to him, concentrating on her warmth and stroking her back. “And I’m never leaving you. I can’t and I won’t and… Jace?” He pulled back enough to touch her chin with light fingers. Then he smiled faintly, sad and warm all at once. “You’re my best friend. Ever. I’m not going anywhere.”
That just made her cry again, half-laughing even as she wept, raising one hand to wipe away the tears. "God. Stupid hormones. I'm squirting like a teenie during Titanic." Shaking her head, she shuddered, looking up at him. "I love you, Jack."
There was a slight pause as Jack stared at his redheaded friend. Then a slow, sweet smile grew and he pulled her close again. “I love you, too, Jace,” he whispered, throat tight.
She pulled his hand close, underneath her shirt, resting it on her stomach. "I know," she muttered. "I know."
At the feel of her warm skin, his breath caught and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Dammit, he wasn’t going to cry. Not when she needed him.
She moved the other hand up, lacing through his messy hair, feeling the soft texture of the dark locks between her fingers. Jace had stopped crying now, all of it gone, watching his face intently for his own pain. "I'm sorry..."
“For what? Nothing.” The unshed tears pricked the back of his eyelids and he ducked his head so that he could press his forehead to hers.
"Should've listened to you." She nuzzled her forehead against his. "You wouldn't have done something that stupid." Jace let out a quavering sigh. "I don't mind. I don't think I mind really if you don't think I'm a stupid slut."
“No, Jace, no. You’d never be that. You couldn’t.” With a shuddery sigh, he tugged her closer. “You’ve never done anything truly stupid in your life. You couldn’t. You couldn’t.” His hand stroked over her short hair softly. “You couldn’t.” Her sadness, her pain, her uncertainty tore at him and he had to forcefully push old memories aside – memories of true stupidity, pain, slut. “You couldn’t.”
There was something in his voice that made her start, hand trailing down from his hair to insistently seek his free one, fingers seeking the scar. "Certainly feels like I could, Reilly. Jack? You - you sure you okay with... me being knocked up like the town bike?"
“Jace, don’t. Just don’t say that.” His voice had dropped so low that it was barely audible despite their nearness. “You’re… Wonderful. You’re a good person and a good friend and… You don’t run.”
"I run. I run like hell. You think I've told Dad that I'm not a virgin any more?" She pressed her palm to his scarred one, closing her eyes to just feel him. "You don't run either. You haven't run from this and me."
There was a long silence and then he smiled, tight and unreadable. “Nah, Jace. More like I ran to you.”
"See, Indy? You run at danger."
“You’re not danger.”
"Try getting between me and peanut-butter celery and I'll show you danger."
He merely smiled faintly at her and stroked her hair, hand resting at the nape of her neck finally.
"I'm going to have to leave school," she said eventually. "Get a job. Geez, I'll get paid by the government for being a cripple and being a Single Whore, that ought to be fun."
“I’ll help,” he murmured simply. “Whatever you need… I’ll do.”
"Hold my hand?"
“Always.” Slipping a hand into hers, he suddenly pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her softly. “You’re my best friend. I won’t fail you. Ever.”
"You never have." She moved her face to his neck, squeezing his hand hard, pushing his shirt collar away so she could drop a kiss on the top of the scar from his car accident. "You're my best friend forever."
A shudder ran through his lanky frame at her action and he closed his eyes again as he felt tears threatening once more. I will not cry, I will not fail, I will not… “You’re… You’re mine, Jace,” he whispered softly. “Only. Best.”
"Only. Best." She held up their hands and threaded her little finger through his, giving him a crooked little smile. "Look. Pinkie promise."
Silently, he nodded, heart in his throat, and offered her a lop-sided smile.
She pulled her hand away and traced along his cheek with it, up to the white lock of hair at his forehead. "You've got to fail sometimes, though, Jacks," Jace muttered. "Don't try to play the hero. Not like my bloody Parfett."
“Won’t try,” he promised. “Might happen.” With a sigh, he shifted onto his back and tugged her over to his side as he stared at the ceiling. “Jace?”
"Yeah, hippie?" She curled in close, eyes half-shut as she greedily soaked up his body heat.
“Remember our promise, ‘kay?” He tugged at her again, pillowing her head on his chest. “You’re… The best thing that ever happened t’ me. You make things better. You… Jace…” His voice caught and he sighed. “I can tell you stuff and you can tell me stuff. Right?”
"You can tell me anything," she promised tenderly. "You are a child of the earth no less than the trees, and you can even tell me about your varied sexual experiences if you do it in a low breathy voice and take off your shirt."
That earned a faint chuckle and he held her tight. “You don’t wanna hear about that stuff.”
"Couldn't be worse than mine." She tried not to hurt at the memory. "I was completely stupid all the way through it. Shook like an epileptic."
Gently, he whispered, “But you felt it. That’s the important thing.”
"Okay, Yoda." Comfortably, cheered up and safe, she squeezed his hand. "I'm filled with your wisdom now."
“Hm.” His hand slid to rub at her shoulder absently, his eyes lost on the ceiling.
"Hold on a sec," she suddenly demanded, craning her head to look at him darkly. "What the hell d'you mean, 'felt it'?"
He shrugged slightly, trying not to shift her too much, and didn’t answer.
"Jack?" She raised her hand to his cheek, touching it lightly, grey eyes huge. "Why wouldn't I have felt it? Why - Reilly..." Jace sucked in a breath. "What was your first time like?" Please say it was just normally clumsy or something. Like mine. Not anything awful...
“…Not like yours, darlin’,” he whispered simply. “It was… Before I knew you.”
"You, girl, back of a car?" she joked lamely. If he hadn't been held right... She'd been held. Hell, she'd been loved.
“…Something like that.”
She sobered immediately, wincing in shame. "Jack... what the hell were you doing losing your virginity in the back of a car?"
There was a long moment of silence, broken by their breathing. When he finally answered, his voice was soft and emotionless, far away. “Drunk and high.”
She stared at him. It wasn't adding up. "Drunk and stoned and shagging in the back of the car."
Jace suddenly wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. "You hinted this before, man," she muttered. "You smoked everything with leaves and - and now you had your first time in the back of a car and - why?"
Her arms around him and her obvious concern stung, vibrating over their bond like a tuning fork gone wrong. Slowly, he held her back. “No good reason, Jace.”
"Yeah, there's a good reason for it." Her mouth twisted in a snarl of hate. "Your damn dad."
“And me.”
"So you were a stupid teenager. Who do you think drove you to it?" She hissed a breath through her teeth. "I want to hurt him so much. It wasn't your fault, Jack, you stopped. You're so clean now I could eat off you. Except for those damn cigs." The redhead gave him a little smile. "You're gonna have to stop those, man, secondhand smoke isn't for babies."
“I’ll stop then.” Blinking quickly, he angled his head to look down at her, eyes bright. “We’ll all take good care of your baby and he’ll never feel bad. Ever.” He paused again and then half-smiled, tense. “And not a mistake. Never… I… I have a half-brother… Who… I guess, was.”
"It's gonna be a she, Jacks." She traced a pattern on the back of his hand. "Did you ever want to meet him? You know... the half brother. I mean..."
The tension that suddenly slid through Jack’s body set him like concrete against her; it was almost frightening. “No. Never.”
"S'okay, s'okay," she soothed, wriggling up and stroking his hair, pressing his head half to her shoulder. "You don't ever have to. Just like you don't ever have to see your dad again, especially if I blow his brains out with an M5."
Silently, Jack pressed his face harder into her shoulder, feeling a buzz and knowing that this was the scarred shoulder. He concentrated on his breathing and tried not to think; Jace was here, it was alright, she was strong, she was… Pregnant. “… Why do you think it’ll be a girl?”
"'Cause I'm gonna name her Jacqueline Emily," she said comfortably. "Emily for her grandma and Jack for her godfather."
He shifted suddenly, moving to meet her calm grey eyes. “You want me to…”
"Like I'd let you off from being godfather, Unka Jack. We're in this together."
A positively free, warm, and blindingly brilliant smile exploded over the brunette’s lean face and he hugged her close. “We are. Forever… Love ya, Jace.”
"I know. I'm pretty lovable." Tears had started leaking from her eyes again. "And don't worry, I've been crying about twenty-four to seven lately. I cried yesterday when my mom told me about her old cat. It's not you."
Unexpectedly tender, he started stroking her hair again. “Hope it’s never me.”
"No, except when you tell me things like how you had a shit teenagerhood and lost it to some hippie chick in the b-back of a car."
“Goth,” he corrected mildly, the anger seeming to have drained completely. “And don’t cry over that stuff, Jace. Not worth it.”
"Yes, it is worth it. I had a great first time when I wasn't feeling like an amateur and I loved him and - " She took a breath, just to steel herself to the shudder of pain. She loved him even if he was going to wake up a vegetable. "But you, you had the back of a car and - you did a goth chick? Man, Jack, that was some weed. You didn't deserve an... eww, goths are mangy."
“Not fake ones, darlin’. Rich kids playing chicken,” he murmured. Absently, his hand continued to slide through and over her hair. “I’m glad you loved him. It’s… It’s good.”
"You didn't love rich girl goth, did you?" Her voice was sad.
“… No.”
"Wasn't your first time, then," she rationalized. "Still a virgin. Just one who's had icky fake-goth sex."
“Hm. Okay.”
Jace cuddled into him, arm around his waist. "Should get going," she said reluctantly. "You have work tomorrow, don't you? Crazy breaking-your-spine Jackwork."
“And your parents might start to worry,” he murmured. Yet he didn’t release her.
"Start? Mom's been in a frazzle, worrying about me." She buried her face in his chest, tilting her head to listen to his heartbeat. "She's going to burst a vein when I start showing."
“But we’ll tell her before then.” Lightly, he rubbed at the tense muscles in her back, tracing circles with the palm of his hand.
"You're gonna tell her with me?" Her voice was tiny.
“’Course I am… If you want me to.”
"I want you to." Jace closed her eyes. "God, you're good to me. So fucking amazing."
Jack smiled faintly and continued to rub at her back affectionately. “’M not.”
"You are. Even if you did do a goth chick." She sighed, cuddling into him. "What time are you going into the Den Of Voles tomorrow?"
“Not ‘til eleven.”
"... Can't I just tell Mom I'm camping out for cockroaches and spend the night?"
He smiled faintly and hugged her tighter for a brief instant. “If you don’t think she’d mind,” he whispered. “I’d like it.”
"She won't." With a sigh of relief, she grinned at him, the tired drawn look on her face overshadowed by the bright expression. "Don't worry. I don't get morning sickness. I get mid-afternoon sickness."
“Even if you did get morning sickness, wouldn’t care.” Jack reached up to brush her bangs from her eyes and smiled lopsidedly. “Still want you around.”
"S'cause you're crazy." She leant forward to brush her lips across his cheek. "It's not like I can even passionately shag the goth-miasma out of you."
Color touched his cheeks and he laughed a bit. “Right.”
"I love making you blush." She touched his chin. "You go all red. It makes you all Christmassy with your eyes." Jace suddenly sat up excitedly. "Hey! I almost forgot to show you!"
“Hmm? Show?”
She removed her bulky sweater, unbuttoning the shirt beneath as she sat herself up to pull it open proudly. Apparently Jace had no shame whatsoever when it came to her most interesting acquisition; she couldn't care less, she was happier than she had been in weeks. The tanned expanse of flesh in her sportsbra was mildly swollen.
"Boobs," she said smugly. "My chest is moving from 'flatlands' to 'fertile savannah of motherhood'."
No verbal response was forthcoming; Jack was too busy blushing hotly, eyes locking and then shifting and then locking again.
"Apparently motherhood is the best thing that ever happened to these suckers," she continued. "Of course, the bastards feel like I just grew them and I just about shut one in a door the other day and they hurt to touch but - you like?"
He swallowed, eyes huge as he looked up finally to meet her amused gaze.
Jace giggled delightedly and softened. "I'm just using my feminine wiles. Y'know, making sure they're still working." Sitting back, she folded up the sweater and dumped it neatly on the floor, the shirt precariously hanging from her shoulders. "And I'm enjoying my mood swing. I get these, too. I haven't been so happy-moody in a while, though."
Nodding, Jack seemed to find his vocal chords again. “Uh, right. Happy is… Good.”
"... You're still looking at my breasts. Wow."
He flushed even redder and blinked. “… Shit. Sorry, Jace, I…” He exhaled, head dropping a bit. “Shit.”
"Do I look that awful with them?" She tilted up his chin with a light finger, teasing before suddenly sobering. "Aw, Jack, I'm sorry, I just... I just want to do and say anything to just take my mind off... Him. I don't mean to hurt you just because I'm trying to pull my brain away."
“Didn’t hurt me,” he murmured quickly, reassuring. “I just… Hm.” He exhaled suddenly, explosively, and pulled her into a fierce hug.
"You can't tell me you were that traumatized by my milk floats." She tickled his ribs. "Zach's body is more developed than mine, for a woman."
“Hmph.” He bit back a chuckle. “You’re fine, Jace. Pretty.”
"Tibby said I was mannish," she said cheerfully. "No wonder he turned the lights off." Jace started wriggling off her jeans. "Besides, I'm not pretty. You're pretty. You have eyelashes so long you could trip on 'em."
He couldn’t possibly have meant it, Jack thought as he slid from the bed. She is pretty. “Huh,” he replied gently. “Guys aren’t supposed to be pretty.” Pulling his overshirt off as he walked, he dropped it absently on the floor. Within moments, he was returning to her side, portable phone in hand. “Wanna call before I tuck you in?”
"You're a doll." She tapped in the number, pushing her severely-cutoffs off the bed, watching him intently as she waited for her mother to pick up. Maybe guys weren't supposed to be pretty, but Jack was. "... Hey, ma, yeah, m'sorry... no, thought I'd sleep over tonight... no, I don't think I'm imposing, he gets nightmares and pees the bed and so I have to hold his hand and stuff... no, Mom, not giving the phone over, he's sleepy. Needs to go to bed. Yeah, eight or so. Night, ma."
"Talks the leg off a donkey." Jace handed the phone back to the brunette, pushing off her button-up shirt, dangling her stumps over the side of the bed as she looked at him. "So, am I going to get tucked up specially or something?"
Not answering in words, Jack merely moved to stand in front of her and bent to kiss her forehead. Then, gently, he eased her back on the rumpled sheets and fidgeted until he could pull them up and over her. Smiling slightly, he hesitated and then sat down beside her. “That do?”
"Well, the kiss gets a three for cuteness, but negative ten for boundless passion." She looked up at him anxiously. "You're sleeping in the same bed with me, right?"
“… You want me to?”
"Jack, I don't like sleeping alone. I want you."
“Okay.” Still there was another moment of hesitation before the lanky brunette bent and pulled off his boots. Then he stood and quickly, as if avoiding thought, stripped off his jeans. “Promise to sleep well?” he asked mildly as he eased back into the bed, laying on his back next to her.
"Only if you promise to stop worrying. I can feel it over here." She moved her head over to rest it against his chest almost absently. "And you're still embarrassed about sleeping with me?"
Eyes half-shut, he curled an arm around her possessively. “Not embarrassed,” he murmured. “Just… Huh. Yeah.”
She paused, curling comfortably down into him. "And how the hell did you stretch out in the back of a car? You're ginormous."
He sighed; she wasn’t going to let it alone. “Wasn’t in it for the comfort, right. Just… I don’t remember much about it all.”
"... Did you wear leather and smoke more cigarettes?"
“…Yes.”
"... Rrrowr."
If she had been angled properly, she would have spotted a fresh blush on his lean face. “Huh.”
"I suppose that's the only good thing about your crazy childhood." She nestled her cheek closer to his chest. "You wearing tight pants. I would've been... fourteen, when you were going crazy."
“And a couple states apart. Lucky for you.”
"Hey. I would've liked to have met you when I was fourteen." She raised her hands to place them on his ribs, feeling the warm flesh there. And bone; geez, he was still skinny like a rake. "You would've beaten me up."
“Nah.” He smiled and suppressed a shudder as her touch pressed a ticklish spot. “Hate to say it but I probably wouldn’tve even noticed.”
"Drugged-up hippie." She closed her eyes again, wincing as she felt a slight cramp. "I'm glad you... stopped."
“Me, too.” Feeling the twinge through their bond, he held her close, soothing her. “No choice. Had to.”
She sighed, flopping onto her side again next to him, shifting before she finally found a comfortable spot and lay still. "Sorry, Jackalope," she apologized. "Just hurts a little." Nuzzling his shoulder, she smiled. "Kiss me goodnight and then I'll sleep."
Obediently, Jack turned and raised himself up on one elbow to look down on her. “Sure,” he whispered. “And you’ll have good dreams?”
"Promise." She looked up at him, eyes bright in the darkness. "No more nightmares."
“No more.” Lightly, he bent and brushed his lips over hers, warm and feather-light. At the intimate contact, his eyes closed and a sense of calm buzzed over their bond, tingling deep in the scar in his hand.
She kissed him back softly, knowing how to breathe, the low cramps in her stomach disappearing and the ache in her bones going and the panic in her head ebbing away almost completely. He tasted like sweetness and cigarettes and himself.
Unthinking at this point, Jack just reacted, sharing the comfort and the warmth. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed before, after all; he had given her her first kiss. Slowly, his hand raised to brush at her hair, again surprised at the softness of the red locks.
Jace hadn't felt safe and secure since... well, she hadn't felt safe and secure since Tibby had gotten hurt, or a long time before it. She was needy, she realized halfheartedly, always needed someone to touch her and tell her it was going to be okay -
Banishing the thoughts deliberately, she just kissed him. It had been a long day and a long week and a month that had seemed like a century and she didn't care any more how greedy she got.
The longer the kiss went on, though, the more Jack felt something twitch deep inside of him. With an internal shudder, finally, he pulled away a bit and slipped a hand up to stroke her cheek. “Better?” he husked. “Ready to get some shut-eye?”
"Yeah." She moved her mouth across to brush a few fervent kisses over his palm. "M'ready," she slurred.
“Good.” With a faint smile and another hidden shudder, he reached down and tugged the blankets higher.
She threaded her hand through his, warm and content and closing her eyes. "Love you."
“Love you, too… Always.” Settling down beside her, he pulled her close. “Sleep now.”
She curled up, drifting off slowly but with a relieving surety. "G'night, Jacks."
“G’night, Jace,” he whispered back, fully aware that she was already too far gone to register his words. It took him much longer to fall asleep, though; his mind was working overtime and wouldn’t let him find oblivion. Jace was pregnant. By Tibby. A guy he had never gotten to meet. Who Jace was painfully in love with. Who was… He pulled her even closer into the warm circle of his arms. It didn’t matter, really, he thought, vaguely numb. Jace was his best friend, the most amazing person he had ever met, stronger than anyone. Now, though, he would have to be strong for her. Because he loved her. Biting his lip slightly, Jack curled in and shut his eyes tightly. It was time to sleep now. They would fix everything in the morning. He knew they could.