A/N: This is a story I thought of based on the prompt "if you really knew me." Each chapter is centered on one 24 character and contains five things that character doesn't know about Jack. When I first started planning this story, my idea was to base it around Jack's many love interests over the course of the show, so the first eight chapters will be (1) Marilyn, (2) Teri, (3) Nina, (4) Kate, (5) Claudia, (6) Audrey, (7) Diane, and (8) Renee, but I might add other characters later on if I don't get tired of the concept after eight chapters. Below is Marilyn's chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a review to let me know what you thought!
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1.
When he was driving her home after their first day trip together (Six Flags, because it was cheaper than Disneyland and he wouldn't have taken money from his father even if it were offered to him), he told her he was lost. It took half an hour of driving in circles and poring over maps before they finally got back on the interstate.
He wasn't lost. He just wasn't ready for the trip to be over.
2.
One Friday evening, when her parents were away, he came to her door with a bottle of Pinot Noir he'd snuck out of his father's collection. She greeted him with a nervous smile; she'd always been more afraid of her father than he was of his.
Even at sixteen, he could be one hell of a morose drunk. He'd sat at the breakfast bar with his shoulders slumped and his head in his hands, raving about his troubles in a slurred monotone. She learned a lot about him that night: that his mom used to call him Goldilocks (not just because of his blond hair, but because he had to have his way all the time), and that he'd kind of liked it (even though he'd punch the lights out of anyone who dared to call him that on the playground); that he was the one who'd egged Mr. Dugan's Corvette five years ago, because he'd seen the old man kicking a stray dog; that it hurt more than he let on when his father made him feel like nothing he did was ever good enough. The wine ensured that she forgot most of the rest. The next thing she knew, they were stumbling into the bathroom, and he was holding her while she vomited, occasionally turning away to empty his own stomach into the sink.
In the morning, he was a little distant, as though there were something bothering him, something other than the obvious hangover. She asked him about it, but he insisted he was fine, then quickly changed the subject. They never discussed what had happened the night before.
The next time she saw him drinking was at Jess Abrams' pool party. She could tell he was monitoring himself, because he got a new Solo cup every time he went for another drink, and he didn't throw them out when they were empty — clearly, he wanted to remind himself how many he'd had. He was only slightly tipsy by the end of the night. From then on, he was always careful like that, and Marilyn never again saw him as drunk as he'd been that first night.
She often wondered what he'd told her that night that had made him so uncomfortable. Was he really that embarrassed by a childhood nickname, or by the fact that being rejected by his father upset him? Or was there something else he'd said, something more personal, that her alcohol-dulled memory had let slip? She would give almost anything to find out. But Jack never told her, and she knew better than to ask.
3.
He put off telling his father about their relationship for as long as he possibly could. For one thing, it was more exciting that way: the sneaking out, the secrecy, the danger of being found out at any moment. But it wasn't just that. He was also protecting Marilyn from Phillip Bauer's remarkable talent for cutting people down and making them feel small. Jack was used to it (after all, he'd had years of practice), but Marilyn was the type who would stay up all night crying if someone made fun of her makeup. She wouldn't last five minutes in the hot seat.
Of course, Graem, the little snitch, took it upon himself to spill the secret one day while Jack was at wrestling practice. Jack came home to a three-hour half-lecture half-interrogation, at the end of which he found himself faced with an ultimatum: either he would invite Marilyn for dinner the following night, or Phillip would go over to her house himself and have a talk with her parents.
Marilyn came to dinner in a long black dress that was almost — but not quite — stunning enough to take Jack's mind off of what was to come. All through the meal, Jack sat ramrod-straight, barely picking at his food, readying himself to jump in at any moment to defend Marilyn. But, to his astonishment, Phillip was all smiles and gallant chivalry, oozing that smarmy charm that had won him dozens of big contracts as CEO of BXJ. He stayed on the safe topics (travel, family, charity events), told the usual embarrassing stories about Jack's childhood (Jack had long ago given up hope of living down the time he got stuck upside down on his neighbor's fence), and showered Marilyn with compliments. Even after she left, Phillip gushed about what a nice girl she was, and what a perfect wife she would be one day.
Jack collapsed into bed two hours earlier than normal that night, trying to relax his tightly-wound nerves. His mind told him that the evening had gone better than he could ever have dreamed. Not only had Marilyn emerged from the lion's den unscathed, but Jack had, too. For once, he'd made a choice his father approved of.
But his heart told him differently. The evening had gone too well — so well, in fact, that something was clawing at the inside of his stomach. Something he hadn't thought of before, because he never could have predicted the way the meal had gone.
He wasn't sure he could fall in love with a girl his father approved of.
4.
He felt a similar discomfort when he found out that Marilyn was marrying Graem.
Though he'd long gotten over Marilyn by then (in fact, he was already starting to fall in love with Teri), and though she was a grown woman now, he had the same urge to protect her from Phillip that he'd had as a teen. The same went for Graem. They were two people who thrived on validation from others, who would walk over broken glass barefoot to please someone they felt had power over them — and that was exactly the tendency Phillip Bauer liked to take advantage of. He'd done it to Jack for years before Jack finally found the courage to break away.
Jack's conscience nagged at him from he moment he saw the invitation in the mail. When he was filling out the RSVP card, he thought about what a blatant lie it was to check the "happily accepts" box — and then checked it anyway. When he and Teri went to HomeGoods to shop for a gift that didn't look ten times cheaper than anything on Graem and Marilyn's registry, Jack just mumbled "it's nice, sweetheart, but you're the expert" to anything Teri showed him; his attention was focused on staring at the pay phone right outside the sliding glass doors and wondering if he should call Marilyn. When he was trying to scrabble together a toast in case he was asked to give one (not that it was likely considering he hadn't even been invited to Graem's bachelor party, but he'd learned not to underestimate his father's obsession with appearances), he found himself instead writing a firm but gentle "you're making a mistake" speech for Graem.
Ultimately, he decided it wasn't his place to give his opinion. Considering his history with both the bride and groom, he knew anything he said would be taken the wrong way (or, at least, twisted that way by Phillip), and that would only push Marilyn and Graem closer together.
At the ceremony, the officiant asked if there were any objections. Jack forever held his peace.
5.
He was sorry he ever told Marilyn that he regretted things not working out between them. He should have figured out a better way to phrase that. But then, after twenty months of silent hell in China, he was more than a little rusty when it came to communicating what he meant.
He meant that he should have kept in touch with her and Josh, because what happened at Teri's funeral wasn't their fault. He meant that he should have done a better job being there for them when he knew just how difficult it was to be a part of the Bauer family. He meant that he'd felt sorry for Marilyn after learning that she'd had a hard time after their breakup. He even meant that he'd thought of calling her during basic training, when he was given time to phone home and realized that she was probably the only one at 'home' who would take his call. But he most certainly did not mean that he still had feelings for her. That version of him hadn't existed in decades.
When the dust had settled on the day of Josh's kidnapping, Jack wanted to help him and Marilyn through everything, he really did. He visited them a few times; he got along with Josh well enough. But things with Marilyn were unbearably awkward. With every visit, he understood more and more how he'd inadvertently strung her along. Soon, he started to feel physically ill every time he looked into those big blue eyes of hers. The walls of her house seemed to close in on him, pressing on his ribs and chest so that it was hard to breathe. After China, he was barely ready to start dipping his toe into the concept of a human relationship; navigating the minefield that was a visit with Marilyn was like being thrown headfirst into the deep end.
She wasn't the main reason why he left the country, but she was certainly one of them. He didn't blame her; if anything, he blamed himself for being so messed up. He wished nothing but the best for her and Josh. Still, he was glad he left. The air was much lighter in Europe.