Title: "You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back."
Author: willowwood
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Jack Hodgins, Jack/Angela (hints of Jack/Clarrisa)
Rating: PG
Words: 1,213
Summary:
Jack's learned from experience.
Authors Notes:
Written for the second ficathon over at bugsnslime.
Prompt: "You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back." - Barbara De Angelis
Disclaimer: Not mine, not now, not ever.

"You never lose by loving. You always lose by holding back."

"So what Greg? This is your solution? This is your answer? Packing up your things and walking away?"

He was used to the screaming.

He was used to the lies.

He was used to the sound of glass being shattered, and doors being slammed.

He was used to lying on his bed, starring up at the ceiling and pretending as though he didn't know what was going on - couldn't hear all those things that weren't being said.

"What else is there Suzanne? Tell me! Give me one good reason not to walk through that door and never look back?"

Jack was used to the silence.


He didn't want to know what a hospital waiting room smelled like at three o'clock in the morning, or what it was like to have to watch doctor's and nurses buzzing from room to room, with nobody telling them what was going on.

He didn't want to have to get used to the constant bleeping of a heart monitor, or tears against his shoulder that he could no longer ignore.

He didn't want to know what the shrill scream of a flat line sounded like, or how it felt to be completely and utterly helpless.

He didn't want to know what it was like to be soaked through, standing at the edge of a gravesite with his curls plastered to his forehead and his boots sinking into the mud beneath.


He learned too soon how to ignore his mothers new found mantra.

"If only I'd have said something. If only I'd have told him I loved him"

He learned too soon how to hide up in his room, lie on his bed and pretend as though this wasn't really happening.

He learned too soon how right his mothers mantra had been. How telling her that she wasn't responsible for her husbands death, how three little words wouldn't have stopped him from getting caught up in that seven car pile up, could have stopped the maid from having to find her that way - pills scattered across the coffee table, a puddle of vodka on the floor where the bottle had eventually slipped from her grasp.

"We're sorry for your loss"

He learned too soon how to organise a funeral, how to make executive decisions that could possibly ruin the rest of his life, and how all funerals ultimately ended up the same way in the end.

He learned too soon how deafeningly quiet the feeling of guilt could truly be.


"All I want to know is why, Clarrisa?"

He remembers the screaming.

He remembers the lies.

He remembers the sound of glass shattering against a wall and doors beings slammed - but it's definitely more gratifying at his own fingertips.

He remembers lying in his bed, starring up at the ceiling and pretending as though he doesn't quite know what's just happened - Back then though; the tears had been slipping down somebody else's cheeks. The racing heartbeat pounding against somebody else's ribcage. The sudden loneliness, somebody else's to try and ignore.

"Because Terry isn't afraid to tell me he loves me Jack"

He remembers the silence. The echo of things that would never be said.


"Where are you going?"

He descended the stairs and grabbed her hand before she could reach for the door handle, spinning her around to face him and encircling her waist with his arms.

"I thought you were still asleep, so I figured I go and pop out to the store" For a long time he didn't say anything, and she could only watch as his eyes roamed slowly across her face.

"I love you" he said suddenly, his tone almost overly serious before he leaned forward and kissed her gently on the lips. She smiled against him, wrapping her arms around his neck before finally pulling away.

"I'm only going to the store" she teased.

He shrugged "I know. I just didn't want you to forget whilst you were gone".

She offered him a disbelieving brow "Jack! You tell me everyday. How could I possibly forget?"

Another shrug "People forget stuff all the time"

"Oh really?" A playful smirk pulled at the edges of her lips "You mean stuff like bread and milk? Which is why I have to go to the store in the first place I'll add"

He tightened his hold on her waist "Well if you hadn't called telling me - in graphic detail - what you planned to do with the chocolate sauce you asked me to pick up, I wouldn't have forgotten anything"

Her smirk was joined by a playful glint in her eyes, her hands suddenly teasing the hair at the base of his neck.

"Remind me why we need bread and milk again?" he asked clearing his throat, as his thumbs began drawing patterns against the skin of her hips.

"Because-" she began rolling her eyes playfully "-you are obsessed with making me grilled cheese sandwiches-"

"-I thought-"

"-and I refuse to function without having at least one cup of coffee before going to work in the morning"

"So we don't really need any bread and milk" Jack began, kissing a path along her jaw.

"And why do you say that?" she asked innocently, the grin palpable in her tone.

The hands he'd rested against her hips were now splayed across the skin of her lower back, pulling her flush against him as his lips began a new course down her throat, and across her collar bone. She bit her lip, fighting back a giggle as his beard brushed against her skin.

"Well, not until the morning" he continued, pulling his lips away only briefly.

"Well if you're sure?" She grinned.

He murmured something she presumed was insistence against her collar bone and manoeuvred his hands deeper beneath her shirt and coat.

When his lips reached the trim of her top, Angela pulled away from him, forcing him to look up "-So does this mean you'll be the one to go and fetch them at six o'clock in the morning?" she asked seriously, expecting more of an answer than the nod she received against the crook of her neck as Jack began to resume his previous course.

"Jack!" This time his head snapped up and he looked her square in the eye, a hint of hurt confusion spread across on his features.

Without another word she captured his lips with her own, her fingers continuing to tease the hair at the nape of his neck before coming around to work against the buttons of his shirt as she carefully backed him towards the staircase, dropping her bag and removing her coat on the way.


He could never imagine the screaming.

He could never imagine the lies.

He could never imagine revelling in the sound of glass shattering and doors being slammed.

He could never imagine lying in his bed, starring up at the ceiling without her lying besides him - head cradled against the crook of his neck, her hand splayed across his chest, legs entwined with his own.

Listening to her soft, even breathing, he could never imagine there being nothing other than silence ever again.

The End