Principals Aren't Meant To Be Hot What The Fuck

A Big Bloody Mess.

 Jack's spine hurt when he woke up, his neck was stiff, and his eye wouldn't stop twitching. The morning wasn't the best. Admittedly, he didn't sleep much and should've probably chosen a better sleeping position. But he was beyond tired and in the moment couldn't care less. Now though, as he sat in the school parking lot, sipping on his fourth coffee (and he wondered why his eye was twitching?), he probably should have cared a whole lot more. Even the soft expensive feeling of the chair couldn't help.

 He took another long, long sip and sighed, staring out of the window. Pretty soon the kids would be let out of school. Jackie, ever the best friend, had volunteered to come down and relieve him of a bit of tension. Maybe take the kids out to the park or help take care of Patrick for him. While it was very tempting, Jack refused, not wanting to get Jackie involved just because he was having a bad week.

 Now he was regretting that decision. And gravely.

 He sunk lower into the chair—slouching—and that made the pain worse at the angle his spine bent, so he had to sit back up again, the pain shooting up his body like little sparks and zaps of electricity. As if he was struck with a taser. On the worst days, he could feel every nudge against his spine, every movement, hear every pop. Those were the days he could barely get up. Those were the days he debated calling Jackie while in sobs because even reaching for the phone would hurt like nothing else.

 The coffee began to run bitter on his tongue, and he took another sip, which likely wouldn't cure it at all. He could vaguely hear the sounds of children inside of the building. It was a dreary start of a Tuesday. The rain poured down quite hard, and therefore, it was grey and gloomy outside. John Jr. didn't want to wear a coat, but he did under the stance that if he complied, he'd get to see his friends and play with them. He looked adorable with his froggy rain boots.

 And then as the rain hit the windows, and he was aware of the pain running through his body, Jack's mind wandered.

 He didn't spend much time in his thoughts. It wasn't the best when he did. Most of his thoughts were about equality and how to improve the living of everyone, since that was... very much slept on in the government (and that old fuck running it would have a field day playing with grass to entertain himself. Jack could do far better as president), but behind that, behind the debates and the cute thoughts of the kids and the pets and his interest in Abraham, were sad, sad thoughts. Ones he buried underneath the others as a means of acting as if they didn't exist. Sometimes in college, he'd stare up at the ceiling and play dead for a few moments. Staring up at a blank ceiling, emotionless, still and just... there. There, but not there.

 He snapped himself out of that stupor while sitting in the car. But he missed that. As hollow of an activity as it was, as depressing, it was a way to let go even if it was for a minute or five.

 He didn't get those moments anymore.

 "Come on, Quent! Come on, we need t' see Papa so we can play quicker!" John Jr.'s sweet little voice called from outside, and Jack looked out of the window to see his kid—big coat and all—practically dragging around the boy in question with Willie following right behind. Willie had on a little bucket hat to protect his hair and Quentin wasn't wearing a coat, instead wearing a turtleneck.

 Jack got out of the car—grabbing an umbrella first because fuck that—and smiled. "Well you see me."

 John gasped and ran over, eyes beaming brightly with a child's wonderous mind, and jumped up for his father to hold him. Jack got him into his arms with a grunt and adjusted the umbrella between his arm and chest. "Hey, champ," Jack said, "how was school? Do anything fun?" he spotted Abraham in the sea of parents coming out as well, so he nodded to the man. They would talk but for now, John was Jack's main concern. Caroline didn't want to wait in the car so she sat at home with Patrick.