Title: Only Time Can Heal and Tell
Author: royal_chandler
Summary: It has to hurt before it can heal. Sequel to A Scar in the Making. Jack/Shane.
Word Count: ~1,300 MW
Warnings: Will eventually be slash.
A/N: I hadn't intended to write a sequel but after reading reviews from the other story and giving it some contemplation, I've been inspired me to do so. Hope that you guys like it!
July 6, 2011
Jack goes home with six missed texts, ten missed calls and an equal number of very angry voicemails from his mom and dad. It's a little after one when he calls Starr and begs for her to let him in and try not to wake up anyone else. She doesn't approve but she's there in under a minute.
And before she gets to freaking out over his swollen and sore face, Jack quickly says, "Lend me your laptop and I'll tell you everything."
They head up the stairs in sync, Starr's arm comforting and supportive at his back.
Of course he doesn't tell her everything—he'll never be the kind of guy that volunteers gossip on that part of his life—but when it comes to facts that aren't about kisses, Starr has all of the details. She gazes at him wearily as she applies a bandage to a cut under his eye, wincing when he does. "Jack, that's horrible. Are you sure you're alright? Is Shane okay?"
"I'm fine, Starr. Shane—Shane's going through hell right now. I shouldn't have even gone and bothered him, don't know what I was thinking. From now on I'm leaving him alone." He gestures to the lit monitor of Starr's computer. "Now will you just type in your password and stop fussing?" He kind of deserves the raised brow and hard glare he gets. "Sorry. I meant please."
A few minutes, keystrokes and clicks later, Jack's on a website for floral arrangements and completely lost at all of the options. Half of the flowers, he can't even pronounce and he doesn't know what size is appropriate or how he wants the ribbon tied. He chews on his lip and turns to look at Starr who's back in her bed to give him a little privacy. No words are needed and she pads over to him and the desk.
Starr works her magic and soon all the website wants to know is to who the flowers are from. Jack pushes Starr's manicured fingers from the mouse and checks 'anonymous'.
Courtesy of overnight shipping, the purchase will arrive at St. Thomas Funeral Home in the morning.
August 18, 2011
When Jack gets sentenced to probation, three years of community service and therapy, his mother cries into his hair.
It feels unfair to celebrate but when they get home, the whole family is sat around the table for the first time in a long while and it's unrestrained smiles all around. They toast to Téa, to second chances and to Gigi Morasco.
For Jack that name will never not be a tidal wave of remorse, a dull yet extremely present ache—the question before every decision that he makes.
"May she rest in peace," Dorian adds respectfully, glass high.
/
Toasts have dwindled into quiet, reminiscent conversations when Rex bursts through their living room doors, a folder in his hand and claiming that, "Todd Manning is not who he says he is."
There's a flash in his father's eyes that make Jack's blood run cold.
Tomas makes to snatch away the documents but he's halted because John McBain and a man—no, a face—that is legend to everyone is town are right behind Rex. Absolutely undeniable.
Every dirty truth is aired and if Jack thought that his life was scattered before, well all of his pieces have just dropped into a free fall. Being a monster in no way compares to having no idea who made you into said Frankenstein, unsure if there is anyone to blame but yourself.
Like a little boy, he finds his mother late that night and cries into her lap.
August 23, 2011
The first day of his junior year, Jack can name his friends on one hand. Dani included and possibly Destiny—although he thinks that sympathy more than anything else.
Jack gets why Brad wants nothing to do with him. However, when running into one another in the hall, he still tries to explain. "It was my da-Walker Laurence. I had no idea that he was going to do that. I didn't want him to. I should have owned up earlier."
Brad just flips him the bird and Jack doesn't hear from him ever again.
/
After third period, Jack spots Shane's former locker and walks up to it, palms the metal door as students buzz around him.
Jack silently wonders about science, if in his next physics class he can bring up a question that's been plaguing him all summer: How does a person get emptier when there's already nothing left?
A pretty redhead taps him on the shoulder. "Excuse me. That's my locker." According to her grin though, she apparently has no problem with Jack being there.
His hand itches once he removes it. "Yeah. Um, sorry about that."
She shrugs her pointy shoulders, steps into Jack's space with the scent of vanilla and spice. "My name's Anna."
Thinking that the pleasantries are better stopped there, Jack chooses not to return the favor. He's alright with five friends.
October 31, 2011
"So I heard from a little bird that there's a dance in Angel Square tonight?"
"Since when did the Daniela Delgado become an avian species?"
Blair crosses her arms, standing tall despite all that's happened. Jack can't help but admire her. "Your sister thought that you'd like to go, that it'd be good for you and I have to say that I agree with her. There's nothing wrong with a night out."
"Dances aren't my thing, Mom. You know that," Jack replies. He pulls on a hoodie and put his house keys into his pocket. "Plus I'm taking Sam out trick-o-treating." He laughs lightly and jerks at thumb at the staircase. "Whenever he decides to get down here. He's so crazy about that Batman costume; you'd think he wouldn't be able to put it on fast enough."
Knowing better always, she softly says, "It's okay to live your life, Jack."
Every fiber of his being disagrees.
December 7, 2011
The temperature is lowering day by day. The chill sweeping through Llanview demands that everyone go and get their fair share of coffee and hot chocolate, dosed with peppermint and cinnamon. Tis the season and all. And Jack isn't stupid enough to disobey.
Once school is let out for the day, he practically sprints to his new SUV and sets it to all-wheel drive, safely making his way to the café across town. He has a lot more free time now that he's not playing basketball this year.
Soon he's heading into the establishment when Shane is heading out and they meet underneath the bell that hangs above the door. Jack's speechless but it's not a problem because at the moment, he's not interested in talking, is more content to soak up the sight of the other teen. There haven't been any drastic changes but Jack notices the haircut, how some of the pain Jack was used to seeing in his eyes has given way to peace since the trial. "Hey."
Shane's grip tightens on the styrofoam cup in his hand. He doesn't look directly at Jack. "Hey."
They both shift on the balls of their feet awkwardly but soon Jack's skin registers the cold. Charitably, he steps aside. "I should let you go…before your coffee gets cold."
Shane doesn't exactly smile but it's not only a twitch of the lips either. "Yeah. Thanks."
Neither move.
"I've been going to therapy," Jack pipes up out of nowhere. He cringes at the pathetic attempt and his own randomness. "For a little over two months now. She—Dr. Isaacs—she's been helping me understand a lot of things about myself that I didn't get before. It makes me feel so dumb, you know? It's simple logic about behavior that normal people already have engrained in them. I'm like thirteen years behind."
Completely earnest, Shane says, "That's great, Jack. It'll be good for you." He clearly doesn't want to be here so Jack gives him more room, listens to the chime when Shane pushes at the door.
Before he leaves, Jack forces out, "Merry Christmas, Shane."
It's weeks prior but Jack knows that seeing Shane today was a miracle in and of itself.
"You too." Shane nods and goes on his way, not looking back and unaware of the mournful eyes that follow him.