This ended up turning into two parts- the second of which I've almost finished (and is much more Christmas-y than this part), so look out for that too, if you like this one! Although this is technically for Green Tree Frog in the Christmas Fic Exchange, I hope everyone else will enjoy it. And also wanted to mention that the title was taken from a Jack's Mannequin song of the same name that seemed awfully appropriate! Merry Christmas (or whatever you celebrate!) everyone!
Part 1
Jack hadn't been much good at following through lately.
He sat in the near-empty bar on Christmas Eve, watching the neon signs that hung on the walls morph and stretch through the amber liquid in his glass as he tilted it back to his mouth. It stung as it hit the back of his throat; his eyes watered as he attempted to finish the contents.
He wasn't sure why he was here. His life, although not perfect, was actually much better than it had been. He'd talked to Kate lately, stopped taking those godforsaken pills and had even shaved off his beard to please the many who requested it. But he was still in a bar, on Christmas Eve- by himself, and that said plenty.
His poor mother, he thought as he caught the attention of the bartender and ordered another scotch. She'd invited him over for Christmas Eve dinner, but he couldn't bear the thought of it just being the two of them. Perhaps Jack had never let his father know it when he was still alive, but he brought a certain presence to the family that just couldn't be replaced. And when his mother called him on the phone to ask him over for dinner, he lied and said yes, of course he'd come.
"Celebrating or preparing for tomorrow?" the bartender joked with him. Jack grinned slightly and shook his head.
"Neither."
Though he thought he was putting forth a fairly obvious front, the bartender kept talking. "You've been here a lot lately," the man mentioned as he dried a tray of tumblers.
Jack cocked his eyebrows in defense.
"Not judging," he added. "Just curious."
He wasn't all that sure why he'd suddenly moved his drinking from the privacy of his home, where he was free to get as wasted as he wanted, to the spotlight of the bar.
"Change of scenery I guess," he replied, closing his eyes and taking in the sedative effects of the alcohol. It relaxed him, kept his mind off things for a few hours. The effect was invaluable at the moment.
The man in front of him put the glasses away, clinking them together loudly and reminding Jack of the set of tumblers his father always kept in his home office, next to the ever-present bottle of scotch. He grimaced at his choice of drink.
"What can I get you?" he heard the bartender ask.
His attention was diverted to two stools down on his left, to the man who was suddenly sitting there, appearing to be uncomfortable in such an environment. Jack shook his head. Somehow he could never escape, even when he tried his hardest to be invisible.
"Just a water," he hesitated.
Jack had to laugh. It was good to see him, even under the circumstances. "So what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Blame your mother, man. She called me when you didn't show up. Thought I might know where you are."
Jack took his phone out of his pocket and sighed, feeling very guilty when he saw the numerous missed calls, both from his mother and Hurley.
"So. Fess up, how'd you find me?" Jack laughed, in a good stage with his alcohol consumption, a surge of energy carrying through him, but he still felt oddly calm at the same time.
"Good to see you too," Hurley laughed, clapping his large hand over Jack's shoulder. "It's not so hard. This is the closest bar to your house."
Jack shook his head. "That easy, huh?"
"Well, that and the fact that you brought me here before," the man beside him laughed, and Jack joined in, recalling the night when Hurley had begun to sing karaoke, not noticing that the mic wasn't turned on.
"So what's up with you ditching your mom? Dude, that's not cool."
Jack hesitated- should he actually tell someone what he was feeling for once? Most other times opening himself up emotionally had backfired. Something inside him- perhaps the scotch, persuaded him to blurt out, "First real Christmas without my dad. Feels too weird."
Hurley waved him off. "Nah, I totally get it man. I know your old man… died and stuff," he said with regret, "but mine took off when I was young. It was always a bummer without him there, and especially around the holidays when all of that family crap is shoved in your face."
Jack laughed at his friend's attempt to raise his mood, but then he was struck with a thought- Where had his coping mechanism gone? He knew he wasn't the first person to deal with problems such as his, and knew almost for certain that there were better, more positive ways to deal. What about his resilience, his determination to be the best and do what's right?
Hurley assumed his friend's silence was a preview of what was to come if he stayed in the bar. "Well, whatever man. I know you don't feel like talking. But you should probably call your mom and let her know you're okay and everything."
Jack tried to apologize- he didn't mean to run him off like that, when he went out of his way to make sure he was okay. Jack was sure he'd done nothing recently to deserve it.
"It's okay, man. I've got a family of my own to get back to. See ya around dude."
He sat with his forehead in his hand, setting the next empty glass onto the solid oak bar below him. "'Nother?" the bartender asked.
"What do you think?" Jack replied sarcastically. He gulped down the next drink, knowing that a few more would send him completely over the edge.
Twenty minutes later he finally had the courage to call his mother, not drunk enough to slur his words in their short conversation. He knew that he'd have to face her tomorrow anyway. He'd deal with it then.
"Funny who you'll run into here," he heard after he'd snapped his phone shut, and he spun around, slightly wobbly on his barstool. "Hurley," she deadpanned, correctly reading the confusion on his face.
He was admittedly perplexed why Kate would be here on a night like this, with Aaron at home.
"What're you doing here?" he asked, even though he was happy to see her and that she wasn't so angry with him anymore. She still cared.
She sat down on the stool next to him. "Got a little tip that someone is feeling sorry for himself," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear and becoming a little apprehensive of the situation.
"Fair enough." He caught her eye for a moment longer than either was really comfortable with, then let out an awkward half-laugh.
"You look beautiful," he complimented her, surveying her dark green silky shirt and jeans that fit her perfectly. "I like your hair like that," he added, clumsily grabbing at a curling tendril with his free hand.
"You're drunk," she said almost sadly.
He shook off the comment. "Where's Aaron?"
Kate coughed a small laugh into her hand. "Hurley's watching him, but he's sleeping anyway. He exhausted himself waiting for Santa to come," she explained, smiling at the little boy's behavior.
"I have some presents, if you'll, uh, let me give them to him," he managed to stutter out, his head swirling from the liquor. "Had the lady at the… the store… wrap them…"
"Of course you can give them to him. He'll love them. And he'll love seeing you. What do you say we get you outta here though?" she asked with patience; much more than he was deserving of, he thought.
"I'm off the pills," he said suddenly, not daring to look into her eyes. He wasn't sure if he didn't want to see the doubt in them again, or if he didn't want to remind himself of the woman he had managed to lose. "Off them. Sick of them."
Even in his drunken state, she found his honesty cute, and clutched his hand across the bar. "I know," she said reassuringly. "I can tell."
He found the words safe enough, and looked into her eyes, where he saw honesty, and maybe something more.
"I've still got a few bad habits to kick though, you know that," he said as seriously as he could muster. He was becoming silly drunk. "You know that…"
"I know that too."
The absolute faith she had regained shocked him. Was she implying what he thought she was?
"Why?" he asked simply, shaking his head, wanting to pinch himself in case he was dreaming this.
She seemed to know what he was asking and shrugged. "Because I miss you. And I believe in you, and us, and that we can get back to where we were- maybe even someplace better."
He nodded his head several times in agreement, quickly drinking the second glass of water the bartender had kindly set in front of him. "Me too," he managed. He'd hashed his heart out too many times to her to need to explain any more.
"You about ready to leave?"
"Yeah. I walked though… so don't… worry or anything. I really hate it when you worry about me. I really hate it," he repeated, more for his own benefit than hers.
She flashed him an oddly genuine smile and surprised him by leaning in a giving him a quick peck on the lips. His eyes remained closed, too surprised to open them, his eyelids seemingly too heavy to resist the temptation the darkness brought.
"Then stop giving me things to worry about," she said, running her hand over his stubbly cheek quickly.
She'd tried, over and over again, to stop thinking about the man in front of her. But when things were good, she was the happiest she'd ever been, and she believed he was too. They could get back to that. She loved him, forever.
She helped him stand and paid the bill, then settled him on his feet, letting him adjust to the head rush it had brought on, seeing that he was more drunk on his feet than he was on the stool.
"What're you doing?" he asked once they'd gotten outside, as she tried to shove him in the passenger side of her car, his large frame not helping with his already present clumsy movements. Finally she succeeded, leaning over him to fasten the seat belt, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her outstretched body and nuzzled his head sloppily into her side.
"You have six or seven hours to sleep this off," she warned him, "and I'll make sure to wake you up with lots of coffee and a good breakfast. But you're gonna be there in the morning when Aaron wakes up. "
"Yes m'am," he laughed boyishly, then slumped back into the seat, falling asleep almost immediately.
"And every morning after that," she added as she concentrated on the road and the passing cars, praying to God it was true.