A/N: Hello, everyone. I hope you all have had a great Monday.

This chapter title came to me because it's exactly how I'm feeling; too tired to deal with anything.

Regardless, enjoy.

Chapter 7: Too Tired to Deal

Jack jumped off his bed, immediately going to his backpack and dumping everything out. "Where is it, where is it?" his voice rose in panic as he sifted through the papers that came out of his bag. He had been hoping that it had just fallen out of his journal and into the bottom of his backpack, but as he sorted through the last of his papers, his letter was still nowhere to be found. Not only was that gone, but the picture of him and Emma was missing as well.

Sitting on his floor, Jack thought back to earlier that day. Is it in my locker? Or did I leave it by the tree at lunch? Maybe it came out of my notebook then. What if someone read it? He sincerely hoped not. All of this panic caused his breathing to speed up, and Jack felt like he couldn't get enough air. His mind was spinning, exacerbating his headache which had only just started to go away. What would he do if someone read it? That was for him and Emma, no one else!

A loud voice interrupted Jack from his racing thoughts. "Jack! I'm leaving!" his mom yelled from down the hall. He heard the opening and shutting of his front door, and the car start up and drive away, so he knew that he was home alone.

Everything quieted down after that. His breathing was back to normal, and although his head still hurt, the room was no longer spinning. Jack took that as a good sign. His eyes shifted over to his desk, where a picture of Emma sat in a plain frame. Jack got up, taking a seat at his desk as he rested his head on the cool wooden surface with a sigh. He stared at the photo of Emma, where she was in a grassy field, holding out a flower. Her shoulder-length brown hair was blown in every direction from the breeze that windy spring morning. Her light brown eyes were shining and so full of life. Her skin was tan, making her freckles blend into the darker skin tone. That picture was taken the spring that she got sick, right before her health declined.

Everything about her appearance had changed after that. Her hair became thin as it fell out from the treatment, her eyes dulled with the seriousness of her illness, and her skin took on a sickly pale colour.

Jack tried not to think about that time too much, so instead, he focused on how Emma looked like a miniature version of his mother. His mom shared her brown hair and eyes, minus the freckles, only looking older and more mature. Jack wondered if Emma had grown up, that she might have looked like his mom now.

Jack on the other hand, looked nothing like his mother or sister. His hair was an odd, but natural white with bright blue eyes. Sometimes, when the three of them had gone out together, people would ask if Jack was related to them. He always wondered why he looked so different from his family. Was it from his dad's side? He never really knew his dad, much less seen a picture of him, so Jack wouldn't know. After all, his parents got divorced about a month before Emma was even born.

His mom never kept any pictures of his dad around the house. Apparently it was a messy divorce.

But the more Jack thought about this, the more he wanted to know about his dad. What did he look like? Why did he divorce his mom? Why did he leave them right before Emma was born? What was he like?

The only things he ever heard about his dad were from his mom, when she was drunk and angry. She would slur how terrible of a husband he was, and how she never should have married him in the first place. It was a completely one-sided description.

"Maybe there's a picture of him in mom's room..." Jack wondered aloud. Since his mom was out, now was the perfect chance to check. His stomach and head still hurt though, and all of that panicked searching earlier didn't help.

Jack moved from his desk to the bathroom down the hall, searching through the medicine cabinet for something to ease his pain. He found a bottle of tylenol and took some, using the sink water to wash it down. He sighed in relief, knowing that it would help lessen his headache. His stomach growled, but Jack knew that he couldn't eat anything, especially since he had had an apple earlier.

Now with nothing else to do, Jack pondered if he should check his mom's room for a picture of his dad. She wouldn't be very happy if she found him in there, but she was out right now, and probably wouldn't be back for awhile. Besides, Jack had been wondering about his dad for years... Making up his mind, he left the washroom and headed towards his mother's bedroom.

When he entered the room, he wasn't surprised by the mess inside. Clothes were strewn throughout the space, covering the entire floor and bed. The bed itself was unmade, with the covers wrinkled and pillows scattered. With a sigh, Jack maneuvered through the piles of clothes and shoes, heading towards the closet.

As expected, no pictures of his dad hung on the walls. Though the ones of Jack had been taken down, the photos of Emma remained. He rolled his eyes. That was the kind of behaviour that he had learned to expect from his mom.

He pulled open the double closet doors, and flicked on the light. Built in storage units lined the walk in closet, and each shelf was filled with boxes and shoes. Jack started by taking a shoebox and opening it. It was filled with papers, and upon taking a closer look, Jack noticed that they were bills. Emma's medical bills. He quickly shut the box and put it away. He didn't want to look through those.

Jack then grabbed another box, and sifted through the contents. Nothing in there about his father. He continued looking through the boxes for the next hour, until he reached a box further in the closet. Inside were two books, one labeled 'Jack', the other 'Emma'. He opened the one with his sister's name on it, noting that it was a photo album. The first picture of Emma is in the hospital with his mom, when she was first born. A younger Jack stands in the background, though no father figure is present. The next pictures follow Emma as she grew up: from her second birthday where they played in a kiddie pool, to some bluebonnet pictures in a field in Texas, to her seventh birthday party at the park. There were no more pictures after that, because Emma had gotten sick not long after she turned seven. Apparently his mom didn't want to put a sick girl in the photo album.

He closed Emma's album, and opened his instead. He expected it to be like Emma's, where the photos followed her through her life. Jack was wrong. There was only one photo of him inside. Of course there's only one of me. He knew that his mom barely wanted reminders of him around. Jack rolled his eyes and took a closer look at the photo.

In the picture, Jack was on the shoulders of a man at an amusement park or something. Jack looked young, maybe three or so, and the man looked to be around 25. The man had sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes. Is that my dad? Jack wondered, but thought against it.

Sure, the eyes were similar to his own, but that blond hair? Definitely not. The man must have been a relative from his mom's side or something.

Sighing, Jack shut the mostly empty album, ready to call it quits. After putting the albums and boxes away, Jack headed out to the washroom, where he took a long, cold shower. The cold water felt very refreshing on his pale, heated skin. It wasn't long though before the dam broke behind his eyelids. Jack tried to ignore the tears that fell, and convinced himself that they were part of the water that rushed over him. So what if his mom got rid of nearly every picture of him? It shouldn't really matter.

He turned off the faucet over half an hour later, and dried off with a sigh. "So much for finding out how my dad looks," he said aloud to the empty room. He wanted to go to the kitchen and eat something, but decided against it. Jack was too tired to deal with anything at the moment.

Instead, he headed towards his room and collapsed on his bed with a sigh.

Ω Ω Ω

A beeping startled Jack from his sleep, and he turned to shut off his alarm. He groaned. His stomach felt like it was eating itself, and the constant growling had kept him up half the night. "Do I have to go to school today?" he asked himself in despair, already knowing the answer.

"Ugh. Of course I do. Mom won't want to deal with me all day and I have detention to make up for," he answered aloud to the otherwise silent room.

With the small amount of energy he had, Jack pushed himself off the bed. He dragged his feet over to his dresser, digging through the drawers to find something clean enough to wear. He pulled out a black t-shirt, faded jeans, quickly changing into them and slipping on a pair of blue vans. Now fully clothed, Jack begrudgingly went to the washroom.

"Ugh," Jack complained, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He had dark bags under his blue eyes, which had dulled from the lack of sleep. He brought his hands up to try and tame that pale white mess of hair on his head, and noticed the marks on his arms. There were some new bruises on his forearms from being shoved into the lockers the previous day. "I need to wear a hoodie today..."

Jack then grabbed his toothbrush, squeezing a bit of paste on it before beginning to brush his teeth. When he was done, Jack backtracked to his room, grabbing his dark blue sweatshirt and pulling it on. He moved slowly to the living room, noting from the silence that his mom was still asleep. No surprise there.

He gave breakfast a brief thought as his stomach growled, and decided it would be okay to eat something. After all, Jack didn't want to end up in that nosy nurse's office again. He entered the kitchen, grabbing a single slice of white bread for breakfast and an orange for lunch. Once he had eaten the bread, Jack stuffed the orange in his backpack and was out the door.

Jack was actually very glad that he brought his sweatshirt, because the morning air was freezing. The lawns and roofs of neighbouring houses were whitened with a touch of frost, giving promise for more snowy days to come. Jack shivered, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and began the walk to school.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, his mom would drive him to school. But that was only when she woke up early enough or when she wasn't bending over the toilet with a hangover. Either way, it didn't seem like she cared enough to bring Jack to school, so he opted for walking. It was slowly becoming the norm.

Though he really wished that his mom could have taken him today. It was freezing outside, and Jack could see his breath visible in little puffs. His stomach still hurt, despite the food, and Jack sighed from exhaustion. It took him thirty minutes to walk, even though he only lived a walking distance of twenty minutes from the school. It was difficult for him to walk and act normally when his stomach was killing him.

When Jack arrived at school, he surprisingly had time to spare. His first class didn't start until 7:50, but it was only 7:42. Jack quickly used his extra time to go to his locker and check for his letter.

It wasn't there.

Jack felt his heart drop. He had been praying that maybe, just maybe, it was in his locker. But now that theory was out. Maybe Sean found it? Although he was hoping that Sean did find it so he could get his letter back, he also really didn't want the other to read it. With a feeling of dread, Jack decided to check with Sean later that day.

The warning bell rang, signalling for students to go to class, but they still had an extra two minutes before they would be counted late. Sighing, Jack shut his locker and headed towards Ms. Day's math class. He really hated having math first period, especially since he shared it with Evan. The late bell rang after Jack had entered the classroom, and he let a brief smile come across his face. Yes! No tardy this morning! His smile faded when Evan gave him a worried look, and Jack immediately knew that Evan was going to ask about yesterday. Jack quickly took his seat as the teacher yelled for attention.

"Psst!" Evan whispered none-too-quietly from his right. "Jack!"

He wanted to ignore the other, but decided just to face up with it. He turned to Evan with tired eyes, and asked in an equally tired voice: "What?"

"Are you okay after yesterday?" Evan's light green eyes shone with concern.

Jack nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment.

Evan wasn't satisfied with Jack's noncommittal answer. "What happened?"

Swallowing, Jack cleared his throat. "My mom picked me up yesterday after you guys left."

"Oh..." He looked disheartened. "Well why did the nurse make us leave then?"

Jack shrugged. He knew, he just didn't want to tell.

"How are you feeling now?" Evan asked.

Jack got a weird feeling in his stomach. Evan was asking so many questions, seeming very concerned with Jack. Is this what it feels like to be cared about...? Jack blinked, trying to stop the tears before they made an appearance. "Better."

Evan sighed with relief, sitting back in his chair. "That's good. Are you coming to Tina's house after school to work on the cancer project?"

Jack wanted to vomit when Evan mentioned the "c" word, but he ignored the feeling and swallowed again. "...Yeah."

Ω Ω Ω

The slow and audible ticking of the clock reminded Jack how late he was.

He was currently sitting in Mrs. Callahan's classroom, waiting for his detention to end. He was supposed to stay until 4:30, but since Jack missed yesterday's detention, he had to stay even later. Not only that, but he forgot to tell Evan and Tina about his detention. They're probably waiting for me... It was already 4:37, after all.

Then again, a small part of him was hoping that they had already started working on the project, so he could miss part of their leukemia research. He really didn't think that he could handle that again.

Jack glanced to his teacher's desk, where Mrs. Callahan sat, grading papers. As if sensing his eyes on her, she looked up sharply, and gave Jack a narrowed look. Jack nearly flinched and looked away quickly. He continued to sit there, having already finished his homework. Finally, at 4:45, Mrs. Callahan dismissed him.

"Don't you dare be late to my class again," she warned.

Jack nodded seriously. "I'll try!" he exclaimed before he was out the door. Tina's house wasn't very far–it would probably only be a fifteen minute walk or so. With the time in mind, Jack hurried out of the school, suppressing a shiver from the bitter cold weather. Dark clouds had formed sometime throughout the day, promising a storm at any moment. Jack picked up his pace, desperate to beat the storm and get out of the cold. Still, Jack wasn't looking forward to working on their project.

A good ten minutes of speed walking later, Jack arrived at Tina's house, out of breath. He knocked, and Mrs. Fisher answered. She gave Jack a kind smile, telling him that the others were in Tina's bedroom, and that she'd bring him a cup of cocoa.

"That'd be great, thanks," Jack replied with a small smile of his own. The day had really been exhausting, and hot chocolate sounded pretty fricken great at the moment.

After taking off his shoes, Jack ascended the stairs up to Tina's room. He hesitated outside the door, hearing voices within.

"He said he'd be here." A high pitched voice sighed. Tina.

"Yeah. He told me in math, too," a lower voice added. Evan.

"Well, we should–" Tina stopped as Jack opened the door.

"Jack! We were just wondering where you were," North told him. Sean nodded in agreement.

"Where were you, snowball head?" Evan asked, and both Tina and Jack winced from the horrible nickname.

"Sorry guys. I had detention after school, and Mrs. Callahan made me stay even later to make up some time from yesterday," Jack said, setting his bag down and plopping down on the open beanbag chair.

"It's fine," Tina reassured him with a smile. "It sucks that you had detention though."

"Yeah, but don't worry," Evan commented. "We haven't even started working yet."

Jack's face fell a bit, and he gulped. No one else seemed to notice though. "Heh, okay... let's start then," Jack said with fake enthusiasm.

Tina's group and Nathan's group worked on opposite sides of the room, researching and planning out their triboard. Mrs. Fisher came in a few minutes later, handing Jack a large mug of sweet smelling cocoa. He thanked her with a genuine smile, glad for the brief distraction from their cancer research. Everyone continued working, Jack noticing Sean shooting him some nervous glances. He wondered what was up with the other, but shrugged it off. Oh, I never did ask him about my letter... Jack realised after a few more glances from the other. I'll need to do that soon.

After another twenty minutes of working, both groups were tired and in need of a break. Sean immediately stood and shuffled towards Jack. "What's up, Sean?" Jack asked, though he knew he wouldn't get a verbal reply.

Instead, Sandy reached into his pocket, and pulled out a slightly wrinkled piece of paper.

"Wha–" Jack paused when he realised what it was. "How... how did you get that?" Sandy was about to sign a response before Jack cut in again. "You didn't read it, did you?" his voice shook from fear, raising slightly in panic.

"What's going on?" Evan asked, walking over to where the two of them were.

Jack ignored him and focused on Sandy. "Sean, where did you get this?" In response, Jack got some rushed sign language. "What?" he questioned, not able to understand the other. "What is he saying?" Jack asked, turning to Evan and addressing him for the first time since he'd joined them.

Sandy repeated his sign, this time to Evan. "He said, 'I found it'," Evan interpreted, only able to read sign language after being long time friends with Sean.

Jack grabbed the letter, gripping it tightly. "Where? Did you read it?"

Sean raised his right hand, bringing his first two fingers and thumb together quickly. "No," Evan answered for Sean.

Sighing in relief, Jack stuffed the letter in his binder and shut it, returning the folder to his backpack. He was going to make sure that he wouldn't lose it ever again. Sean and Evan stood awkwardly around him, while Tina and North sat on the bed. No one was quite sure what to say after seeing Jack's panicked reaction.

Evan was the first to speak, clearing his throat. "So, uh, what is that paper?"

"Nothing," Jack replied in a blank tone. "It's nothing."

"Are you hiding it from us or something?" Evan asked, overcoming the awkwardness by being abrasive.

"It's nothing," Jack said in more of a hiss than a response. "It's personal." Evan eyed Jack suspiciously for another moment, the awkward silence back once more. "Forget it," Jack sighed, waving a hand dismissively in the air. He was really too tired to deal with something like this. "Let's just keep working."