My little Christmas present to you all is a new chapter. :)
Trigger warnings - anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of suicide, mentions of drug addiction, and self-harm.
Inhale, exhale.
Just try to breathe.
Everything's gonna be okay.
He's been repeating those three phrases to himself all morning, but they're doing nothing to help. He doesn't feel okay. Nothing feels okay. He's about to see his father for the first time in eleven years and everything is so far from okay.
"Breathe." Mara leans in to kiss his cheek, and he tightens his grip on her hand. They're sitting in the waiting room, waiting to be called back, and he's terrified. He's been on edge all morning. He didn't sleep at all last night. He didn't eat breakfast. He's been nauseous since he "woke up". He's a fucking mess.
He's exhausted and nervous and scared, all at the same time. He doesn't want to do this. It isn't worth the hell he's going through right now. He feels like he's going to puke, even though there's nothing in his stomach. The constant headache isn't helping with that in the least. He just wants to die.
"Mr. Clarke? Your father is ready to see you now."
"Mars, I can't," he chokes out, tears welling in his eyes again. He's been crying all morning, and just when he thinks it's finally stopping, the floodgates reopen and he's back to square one.
"Oh no, Jerome, no," she sighs, using her thumb to wipe his cheeks. "You're doing so well. I am so proud of you. You're so strong. If you need to stop at any point, that's okay. I'll get you out of there. I'm here for you."
He stumbles to his feet, almost tripping, and stops, squeezing his eyes shut. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He can do this.
His grip on Mara's hand tightens as his father finally comes into view.
He's dressed in an orange jumpsuit. His beard is growing out but his hair is short, a dirty blonde color that matches Jerome's perfectly. Looking at his father is like looking at an older version of himself. He definitely didn't get his looks from his mother. But the nausea has increased tenfold and his heart is just determined to sprint this marathon.
Mara leads him over to the two chairs on the free side of the table. Mr. Clarke is sitting on the other side, just staring at him. Jerome inhales, as Mara urges him forward. They sit in the chairs and Jerome extends a shaky hand toward his father's outstretched one.
He meets his father's eyes but doesn't speak. He's sure that if he opens his mouth, all that'll come out is vomit.
"Jerome…it's been so long…" His father looks him up and down and Jerome fidgets uncomfortably. He'd rather be anywhere but here. He wishes he were back at Anubis house, cuddling with Mara or playing pranks with Alfie. Even being in school would be better than this. Mr. Sweet excused him for today, but he honestly wishes he were in class. At least then he wouldn't be on the verge of a really bad panic attack.
"You look great, son." He chuckles. "More like me than your mom, eh? Dunno whether that's a good or bad thing."
"What do you want?" He whispers, his voice breaking.
"What do you mean? I wanted to see you, to get to know you. You're my son. We should have a relationship."
"Am I?" He challenges. "Am I your son? I haven't known a father in eleven years. I don't even remember what that's like! You're not my father, you're just a fucking sperm donor."
Jerome's chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, watching his father wince. Good. He deserved every bit of pain that brought him. He deserves more.
"Calm down," Mara whispers to him, squeezing his hand. "You're doing great, just stay calm. I'm here, if you need me."
She's not trying to overstep, and for that he's grateful. She's sitting back, only there to help if he needs her. Otherwise, he knows she'd rather not involve herself. This is between him and his father and outside opinions will only complicate the situation.
"Who's this?" His father motions to Mara, changing the subject swiftly. The fakeness in his tone is evident. He's stalling, trying to avoid the deep shit. But this small talk won't work for long.
"This is Mara," Jerome replies, pulling his hand away from Mara's and wrapping that arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to him. "She's my girlfriend."
"It's nice to meet you," Mara says. "Your son is amazing. You should be very proud of him."
"He really is."
"How the fuck would you know?" Jerome exclaims. "You haven't bothered to contact me in eleven fucking years! You left me with my mother and she fucking abandoned me at boarding school like I was a burden to her! Do you have an idea what that did to me?"
"You need to calm down," Mara whispers into his ear, using her free hand to rub his back. "Your breathing is messed up, Jerome, please relax. You can't have a panic attack."
"I'm trying," he mumbles. "S'hard."
"Jerome, you need to listen to me," his father says. Jerome looks back at him, blinking rapidly to try and rid his eyes of tears. "I had no idea where you were until a couple months ago. I didn't even know if you were alive, kiddo. I'm in this hellhole because I messed up. I messed up really bad right after you were born, and I spent whatever time I had with you trying to be as good of a father as I could be – I knew this was coming. And your mother…god, she was something else. I shouldered the responsibility of taking care of you. I raised you. And then I got arrested and that's why you ended up in boarding school. I'm so sorry, Jerome. There aren't enough ways for me to say it. I messed up, and I'm paying for it, but I never wanted you to suffer too. I can't apologize enough."
It's a while before Jerome speaks again. He sits back, processing everything. It's a lot to take in, going from this extreme hatred of his father to some semblance of understanding. Everything he knew is now slowly being destroyed, and while that's a good thing due to the inherently negative nature of everything he's known, it's still hard for him to handle.
"I tried to kill myself," Jerome admits. He rolls up his sleeve and holds his arm out in front of them for his father to see. In the midst of a bunch of angry, red cuts is a long, white scar that travels the length of his forearm. "It was a while ago. When I was 14. It was clear then that mom was never coming back, and I hadn't heard from you in 9 years. No one wanted me. The world didn't want me. So I tried to leave." The floodgates finally burst, and tears begin rolling down his cheeks steadily. He ignores them, watching his dad's face for a reaction.
He didn't expect to reveal all that, but he needs his dad to know how much this all has impacted him. An apology doesn't make it all okay.
"I can't say I'm shocked," he replies. "Not that it doesn't make me feel even more guilty for what I'm done to you, but I'm really not shocked. I can't imagine how that must've felt. I'm so sorry. If I could've been there, I would've. I promise I would've. I'm not getting out of here for another three years, unless I can make it out on good behavior. But I doubt it."
"What'd you do?" Jerome asks. "It's already been 11. How bad could it have been?"
His father sighs and shakes his head. "I was a drug addict. The guys I bought from had been on the run for years, they'd already had previous offenses on their records. This would've been really bad for them. So they framed me. Made it look like I was selling. It's five years for possession, up to 14 for selling. I've never sold anything, but I couldn't prove it. So here I am."
Jerome practically falls into Alfie's arms as soon as he and Mara step into the house. Alfie's been standing at the front door for the past half hour, antsy and worried for his best friend.
Eddie watches as Alfie tightens his grip on Jerome and Jerome tucks his head into Alfie's shoulder. It's difficult, because of the height difference, but they manage to make it work. Jerome's just been through hell – he needs this.
Mara comes out from behind Jerome and rests her hand on his back, leaning in to whisper something into his ear. She steps back after a minute and joins them in the common room, leaving Jerome and Alfie to have their moment together.
"How bad was it?" Eddie asks. He bends his knees and pulls his legs in so Mara can join him on the couch. "Is he okay?"
"He got through it," Mara replies. "It was absolute hell, though. I think it was more the anxiety about seeing his dad, than anything. But he got a lot of the answers he needed. His anxiety just kinda overwhelmed him…he threw up the moment we got out of there."
Eddie nods, still looking over at Alfie and Jerome peripherally. "He's probably exhausted."
"I feel like absolute fucking shit," Jerome agrees. He joins them with Alfie by his side, stopping in front of Mara and lifting her off the couch. He sits down and she curls into his lap, resting her head on his chest. "That was really hard. But I needed it. And you guys have been amazing. Thanks."
"Love you, dude." Eddie nudges his shoulder and shoots him a smile. "We're all proud of you."
"We really are," Nina speaks up. "I can't imagine how hard that must've been. Do you…are you going to see him again?"
"I don't know if I can," Jerome says honestly. "Ask Mara, I was a fucking mess the entire time. I don't know if I can put myself through that again."
Thoughts? Sorry that it's a little shorter than usual, but the next scene starts another little storyline that I want to post all in one chapter, so I had to cut it where I did. Jerome's got a lot of shit to deal with that's going to be made more apparent very soon. His past is really going to come into play now that he's heard what his father has to say. Next chapter, Joy learns what it's like to see the person she loves and treasures most at his worst, and that brings up a lot of repressed feelings that manifest themselves pretty badly. The more reviews I get, the quicker you get the chapter.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed. Merry Christmas to all you guys that celebrate it, and for those of you that don't, happy holidays. And for those of you who don't celebrate anything, I hope your day was good. :)