BYE, BYE, JACKIE
A/n: Another dramatic /angst story. Jack is dying and, as usual, it's up to Will to handle everything. Contains descriptions of illness and character death, so if you don't relish this type if story, you may not want to read any further. If you do read and like, please send a complimentary review. Thanks.
Legal disclaimers - I don't own any rights to Will & Grace or the characters therein. They don't own me either. I am not making any money doing this, and that should please everyone.
Chapter 1 - Bad News, Good NewsWill listened to the radio as prepared breakfast. The sentimental lyrics of The Way We Were hit home today in a manner they had never done before. He became pensive listening to the words. Jack had recently been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Will thought back and blamed himself that he had not taken action sooner when Jack had started to complain about dizzy spells, headaches, weakness and nausea he was having earlier that summer. But with Jack's penchant for histrionics, it was difficult to tell the drama queen from reality. However, things came to a head one mid-September morning when he, Jack and Grace were sitting at breakfast guffawing over the society pages in the newspaper.
(flashback)
"What will Beverly Leslie do next to get publicity…challenge Bret "The Hitman" Hart to a wrestling match?" Will roared with laughter. "Too bad Karen is in Europe now. She'd get a bang out of this!" he added.
Grace and Jack joined in the mirth. Suddenly Jack stopped laughing and put his hand to his head, wincing. Grace noticed and placed a hand gently on Jack's shoulder.
"What is it, Jack?" she asked.
"Just laughing too hard – probably only burst a major artery," Jack moaned.
His two friends shrug it off and continue to ridicule the morning news. A few moments later, Jack jumped up and excused himself. He bolted towards Will's lavatory. He barely made it as he slid to his knees in front of the bowl and disgorged his breakfast into it. Will and Grace hear his distress and are more concerned now. Will rushed to the bathroom.
"JACK, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT!" he asked worriedly.
Jack's only answer was more vomiting. Will squatted by his friend and put his arms around Jack's shoulders as he continued to heave even after his stomach was emptied. Will felt Jack's forehead. There was no fever, in fact Jack felt clammily cold. When the retching subsided, Will helped a shaky Jack back to the table. He was pale and weak. Grace inquired if he felt okay. Jack falsely nodded in the affirmative. He tried to allay the apprehensive looks he saw on their faces, fearing they would take him to a doctor if they felt anything was wrong. Jack had a morbid fear of doctors and their paraphernalia.
Will and Grace exchanged uneasy glances. They were concerned but not alarmed. No use getting worried over a case of stomach flu, they surmised.
Jack had said he just wanted to rest so his friends allowed him to stay in their apartment with the admonition that he should call them if he had any further difficulties.
Jack agreed. Will and Grace spent a tense day waiting for a call that never came.
However, arriving home that evening, they found Jack just where that had left him. He was unconscious and unresponsive. Even after he was revived in the hospital, he was weak and confused. Then the tests started which was not easy for Jack considering his medical phobias. Then came the fateful diagnosis. Jack had taken it relatively calmly, at least outwardly, which surprised his friends. They had expected a dramatic emotional outburst. Will and Grace decided to care for Jack themselves. It would be more comfortable for him in the short time he had left to have his familiar friends by his side rather than the strangeness of a hospice. They let Jack have Grace's bedroom in Will's apartment. Since Karen was traveling in Europe at the time, Grace suggested that she bring her work home, have her call forwarded to Will's number, and stay there days to look after Jack. When Will came home in the evening, he would see to Jack's personal needs and stay on night call while Grace slept at Jack's.
(end flashback)
The doctors had given him until the end of October at the outside. It was mid-October now. Jack's time was getting close Will realized as he glanced out the apartment window to see falling leaves swirled by on a gust of wind. Jack had always loved autumn and would romp like a kid through the piles of leaves in Central Park. Not this year…not ever again. It was difficult for the stoic attorney to think that Jack had already celebrated his last Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Easter and…birthday. He thought back, about how traumatized Jack had been when he found out that his 29th birthday was actually his 30th. Now he wasn't even going to reach 40. Will shook his head trying to dispel the morose thoughts and placed the dishes on the table. The song ended and suddenly Hit the Road, Jack blared out:
Dismayed at the timing of the new song, Will reached over and clicked off the radio. As he did, Grace let herself in. She was dressed casually and flopped down in a chair and ate silently and quickly. It was her shift to be with Jack. When she was done, she fixed a tray of light, nourishing food and carried it into her former bedroom. It was a fifty-fifty chance Jack would keep any of it down.
He lay on his back in her bed, eyes closed. He was even paler and thinner looking than when he had come home from the hospital, Grace thought. A willowy man to start with, now his cheekbones stood out sharply, silhouetted against the morning light in the window. She wondered if he was still sleeping, but at the sound of her movement, his eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. He just stared at the ceiling, not looking at her. "Good morning, Jack!" she tried to sound cheerful, but thought to herself that she actually sounded annoyingly patronizing.
Jack turned his head away, not replying.
"Look what I have for you today. Yummy applesauce, toast with marmelade, and ummmm, hot chocolate. Man, I wish I was in bed being served by the most attractive person in this building."
"Grace," Jack said softly.
"Yes…"
"Please don't…don't feel you have to pretend any more."
This was the first time Grace could recall that she had heard Jack speak in a normal tone and not his affectedly high tenor.
"Why? What do you mean?" Grace sputtered, surprised at Jack's statement.
"You know…we both know…" he trailed off, turning his head towards her now. She could see the dark circles under his eyes and the distant, frightened look in them.
Grace placed the tray in front of Jack. He didn't move.
The phone rang. She heard Will answer, then yell, "Grace…phone!" She bounded out of the bedroom, almost glad to have the interruption.
"Hello! Hello!" she almost shouted into the mouthpiece. "Yes…the is Grace Adler." She seated herself on the sofa listening intently for a few moments.
"Oh…oh," she gasped. "This is SUCH an honor. Of course I'll be there. Thank you. Thank you! Bye-ee!"
"What was THAT all about?" Will asked.
Grace turned around to see him standing in the kitchenette, sipping on a mug of coffee.
Oh, Will! Such good news! I've been awarded top honor by Designing Homes magazine for the work I did on the old Brewster place. I have to leave the day after tomorrow for Boston to receive a prize and a tour all the best homes in the bay area. Then…" she stopped suddenly throwing her fingertips in front of her mouth. "Oh no, not now!" she realized that in her excitement, she had temporarily forgotten about Jack.
Will smiled warmly, "You go right ahead, sweetie. Don't worry about Jack. He and I will manage just fine. Besides, I need a little 'vacation' from the office. Things are slow right now, so I can get some time off. Besides, you're not the only one that can bring work home."
"Oh, Will, you're a doll!" Grace gushed as she hugged her friend. Walking on air, she grabbed her purse and floated out of the apartment to pick up the airline tickets.
Will went to check on Jack. He hadn't touched the food.
"Anything the matter?" Will asked.
"What was that phone call…more bad news?" Jack snapped bitterly.
"Put a lid on it, huh?" Will snapped right back, then instantly regretted it. After all, how would he be feeling right now if the situation was reversed, if it was he was lying there lingering under a death sentence?
"No, actually, it was good news, especially for Grace. She just found out that she won an award for her design work. She's leaving for Boston the day after tomorrow."
"Whoopee," Jack replied sarcastically. "And that would leave…who…to be here…to take care of 'old sicko'?"
Jack's words stung Will, but he calmly replied, "The office can manage a few days without me."
"Why does this happen…WHY?" Jack moaned.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm such a burden to you and Grace? You've got to go out of your way and juggle your schedules…just for me."
"Jack…you know better. You're not a burden. We've managed, and Grace actually prefers working here than in the office, now that Karen is away."
"KARE…BEAR!" Jack started to sob.
Will instantly regretted mentioning Karen. They had tried to send a telegraph, but it must have missed her. Leave it to Karen not to follow a travel agenda. Now they weren't sure just where she was in Europe. She was with Stan who was touring his business interests there and had planned to be away until mid-November – another month. It didn't help anyone's mood when they all realized that, given the prognosis, Jack probably wouldn't be around for her homecoming. It was the same with Jack's mother. Apparently she also decided to take a vacation and not tell anyone. Even Jack's son, Elliot, was away at college. Why was it no one was ever around when they were needed? As usual, it was up to 'Good Old Will' to handle everything.
"Are you going to eat?" Will asked.
"NO!" Jack replied petulantly, pushing the tray away.
"Suit yourself," Will resigned, picking it up from the bed. He carried it out to the kitchen and scraped the dishes into the trash. He was going to pour the chocolate down the sink, but thought, "What the hell. No use letting good cocoa go to waste," and chugged it down. He was feeling a little peeved at Jack and his acting-out, illness beside the point.
To be continued…