( Jack, on the other hand, did not come from a large family. He didn't come from a family at all, really. His mother had been content to lock him out of the apartment at six years old, leaving him to wander hungry through the complex or the woods in search of food. Someone called social services. After that time his father, in a drunken fit, threw him out of a moving car at age seven and left him to hitchhike to the hospital because he couldn't stop hiccuping, the state determined he wasn't really a good fit, and Jack was tossed rather unceremoniously into the foster system.
He moved from foster home to foster home once a year or so, always changing, never constant. Nobody was ever his family in any permanent capacity.
Well, almost no one. There was a girl.
And then there wasn't.
And since her, there hasn't really been anyone, not in five years. Not that would do this, anyway. Jerry's his best friend now, but Jerry's never exactly nudged him to lie down across his lap. Not that Jerry wouldn't be totally cool with it, Jack's sure he would, it's just that... for the last five or six years, he's deliberately constructed a sky-high metal wall between himself and anything that could be remotely considered intimacy. Physical touch is very much included in that. He broadcasts Do Not Touch signs that most people don't try to overcome. They're not very tactile, him and Jerry.
He should feel weirder about this. He can't seem to find the strength to, and with that sense of awe growing only larger for it, he follows her directive tentatively — like a docile, wild deer ready to be spooked at any moment. There's a kid inside him that has always ached to be held, and in this fevered, stressed state at the end of his frayed rope, the feeling chokes him up a little.
Wow, this is fucking pathetic. What's the matter with him? It's not that big of a deal. Knock it off, Jack, Jesus. Get your shit together. He went nearly a month in the pit without shedding a tear, a little casual comfort shouldn't be the thing that nearly shakes one out of him. )
I don't remember seeing it, but I don't... I don't know.
( It had been snowy, the mountain peaks were too high and he didn't go climbing enough for a better view.
After a beat, his quiet voice breaks through again. )
You're... really nice. Thank you. Why are you doing this for me?
warning: child abuse/neglect
He moved from foster home to foster home once a year or so, always changing, never constant. Nobody was ever his family in any permanent capacity.
Well, almost no one. There was a girl.
And then there wasn't.
And since her, there hasn't really been anyone, not in five years. Not that would do this, anyway. Jerry's his best friend now, but Jerry's never exactly nudged him to lie down across his lap. Not that Jerry wouldn't be totally cool with it, Jack's sure he would, it's just that... for the last five or six years, he's deliberately constructed a sky-high metal wall between himself and anything that could be remotely considered intimacy. Physical touch is very much included in that. He broadcasts Do Not Touch signs that most people don't try to overcome. They're not very tactile, him and Jerry.
He should feel weirder about this. He can't seem to find the strength to, and with that sense of awe growing only larger for it, he follows her directive tentatively — like a docile, wild deer ready to be spooked at any moment. There's a kid inside him that has always ached to be held, and in this fevered, stressed state at the end of his frayed rope, the feeling chokes him up a little.
Wow, this is fucking pathetic. What's the matter with him? It's not that big of a deal. Knock it off, Jack, Jesus. Get your shit together. He went nearly a month in the pit without shedding a tear, a little casual comfort shouldn't be the thing that nearly shakes one out of him. )
I don't remember seeing it, but I don't... I don't know.
( It had been snowy, the mountain peaks were too high and he didn't go climbing enough for a better view.
After a beat, his quiet voice breaks through again. )
You're... really nice. Thank you. Why are you doing this for me?