Title: Help, I'm Alive!
Author: Zalia Chimera
Pairing: Jack/Eugene
Summary: Jack has good days and bad days and all Eugene can do is try to support him.
"Jack?"
Jack barely stirs from where he's curled up in bed, just looks up slowly like he's coming out of a daze, blinking blearily at him. "Hm?"
Eugene gives him a concerned look and he reaches over to ruffle his hair. There's no real reaction and despite everything, it kind of stings. "You okay?"
Jack shrugs one shoulder and buries his face against the pillow again, curling in on himself, a little boy hiding from the world. He sighs heavily, like just answering is almost too difficult to manage. "Didn't sleep well," he says flatly. "I'm just tired."
"Right," Eugene says, his lips thinning as he looks the other man over. It's code really, 'tired'. Eugene's learnt to read that much from his partner by now. "Are you gonna be ready to head over to the station?"
Jack turns his head, enough that Eugene can see him chewing on his lip which is already rough and chapped and sore. He raises a hand, smoothing his thumb against it to stop him, but there's no teasing bite or lick in response, no protest. Jack gives a short nod and then slowly rolls over, reaching for his clothes. It'll take at least fifteen minutes Eugene reckons, assuming Jack doesn't get stuck somewhere in the middle, thoughts paralysing him.
Eugene presses a kiss to his temple and grabs his crutch, pushing himself up. "I'll be right back okay?" he says, smiling at Jack, even if Jack doesn't seem to notice.
And with that, he turns and heads out into the township.
He's not sure if Jack's bad days are depression, or the seeming futility of post-apocalyptic life hitting him harder than most now that they're not on the road, occupied every minute. He's not even sure how much of a difference it makes. Not to him anyway. Not when it comes to Jack. There's not a whole lot they can do about either. He just knows that sometimes Jack can barely drag himself out of bed, even for the radio show, and Jack loves the radio.
He almost walks past the mess, lost in his thoughts, but catches himself and slips into the kitchen. It takes a bit of a trade; a couple of song requests and a cigarette in exchange for an extra ration of milk. He swaps them with one of the guys in the kitchen, but ten minutes later he's got help in carrying a steaming mug back over to their tent.
Jack is huddled on the bed when they arrive, barely looks up, and the mug is set down on the chest they use as a table. He's dressed at least though, wearing the thick knitted scarf that Eugene had asked Jody to make when it started getting cold. It's better than he'd expected, and Eugene's learnt to take what he can get.
"I got you something," he says and Jack finally looks up at him, frowning slightly.
"Gene? What is it?" There's a distinct lack of interest in his voice, and it hurts to hear Jack so devoid of enthusiasm.
Eugene sits down on the bed and reaches for the steaming mug, holding it out. "Something warm to drink. Figured you could use it."
"Yeah, I guess," Jack says, but he takes the mug when Eugene presses it insistently towards him. He stares down at it, eyes widening a little, the first real sign of emotion from him. He takes a tentative sip and then looks at Eugene.
"This is chocolate," he says, something almost reproachful in his voice.
"Yeah," Eugene says. "I had them make it."
"No but…" Jack takes another sip, and licks away the brown mustache it leaves on his upper lip, "but this is your hot chocolate. The really posh gourmet hot chocolate you bribed Simon to get you."
"Maybe," Eugene says, smiling a little when Jack takes a third sip, curling his hands around the mug to soak in the warmth.
"You don't share that, Gene," he says.
"I do for you, dummy," Eugene replies and bumps their shoulders together. "Drink up. I had to sell our firstborn to get the milk."
Jack snorts softly, weaker than normal and draws his knees up as he continues drinking. When Eugene wraps an arm around him, he leans close.
When he's finally done, he sighs again, closing his eyes and nuzzling against Eugene's neck. "'m sorry," he says softly. "I dunno why I'm like this," he adds, giving a pained smile.
Eugene curls his hand into Jack's hair, stroking through it. "Well, I think the apocalypse is enough to make anyone question the point of living sometimes," he says and instantly regrets it as the most insensitive thing he's said this week.
It makes Jack laugh though, an aborted little thing. "Yeah. But everyone else kind of copes with it. Mostly."
They don't talk about the people who don't.
"And then there's me," Jack continues, taking a deep shuddering breath. "I mean, I have it pretty good, y'know? Not like I'm out there risking my life everyday but sometimes I just…" He gives a helpless groan and burrows against Eugene's side again. "I think my brain is broken."
Eugene holds him closer and after a moment, drags the cover up over them both, pulling Jack down. "We're all a little broken. But I'm not going anywhere, Jack."
"Right," Jack says like he's trying to convince himself. Eugene's actually pretty sure that's exactly what it is.
"I am. We've got a bit of time before we're due and Zoe owes me a favour so I can probably get her to cover us today. If you want."
Jack goes still for a moment, shakes his head. "I don't… I don't want to. I just don't know if I can. It's hard."
"Yeah," Eugene says lamely, but then tilts Jack's head up to kiss him softly. "We have time okay. And I'll stay right here."
Because it's all he can do.
Jack gives him a tremulous smile. "'kay. Thanks, Gene."
"What I'm here for, dummy."