A/N: This is just a place to stick whatever odd doodle I might write in the future, plus the ones I haven't had time to upload yet. They're gunna be short, probably vague, and rather melodramatic, because I'm feeling rather giddy lately. Ironic that I spew angst when I'm cheerful, no?
I blame the fact that the snow is already melting in January. It's utter blasphemy, but it makes me smile.
A c h e
When Jackson needs someone, or just looks like he might, she tries to be there for him. She whispers and soothes, hovering and offering optimisms until she's satisfied that he'll be fine.
Normally, her actions are rewarded with a slight smile here, the odd laugh there, and it makes her feel good. The fact that she can be there for him reassures her that she does have a purpose, that she isn't as unhelpful and Eric or as trivial as Taylor.
Sometimes, though, he snaps or brushes her hands away, flinging her support back to her so stubbornly that she has no choice but to leave. Those days lead to nights when she can't sleep for fear of missing his next breakdown and, consequently, her next chance to redeem herself. Those are the mornings when she wakes up disoriented and aching.
There are times when it hurts, badly, to keep soothing and hovering, knowing that he probably doesn't need her. She'll tell herself that this is the last time- she doesn't need the pain- but then she'll find him alone again.
Something about the small hope that, this time, he might accept that he needs her always keeps her from leaving.