Echoing J.A.C.I.E. (All Time Low Fanfiction | Jack Barakat)

Chapter 23

I decided to start posting a bit faster :)

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My chest filled with love when I saw Jack enter through the arrivals door at the airport. He had two large spinner suitcases with him, but it was his backpack that made my heart melt. Right over his left shoulder, Mr. Snuggles peaked out. He had taken extra care to position the teddy bear as if it was his companion.

He grinned as he waltzed over to me. We shared a brief kiss, greeting each other after a short yet uncertain week.

"I need to get a picture of you for Ben," I giggled and took my phone out. "He's going to love this."

Jack let me snap the picture, looking to the side a little and then said, "I've actually taken a picture of him at every venue. I thought Ben would appreciate it."

"He's going to love that," I smiled, touched by Jack's thoughtful gesture.

He chuckled, a sound that seemed lighter than the past week. "Well, Mr. Snuggles and I had some good bonding time."

I took hold of one of the suitcases and turned towards the direction of the exit. "How was your flight?"

"I slept through most of it," he shrugged, seeming very indifferent.

"That's good..." I replied, leading the way towards the parking lot. "Sleep is always good."

We navigated the familiar corridors of the airport, a silence falling upon us. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but it didn't feel like the usual non-verbal communication either. There was so much left unsaid between us, and I was getting increasingly worried that we'd never get there.

We stepped out into the cool evening air, the hum of the airport still fully surrounding us. The parking lot stretched ahead, rows of cars waiting in dimly lit spaces. I unlocked the car and we loaded Jack's luggage into the trunk. As I slid into the driver's seat, Jack took the passenger side.

The engine hummed alive and I stole a glance at Jack. He was already staring at the world outside. I wanted to ask him about everything and nothing at all. Instead, I stayed silent as I drove out of the parking lot, trying to come up with the right words.

"How was the last leg of the tour?" I finally settled on asking, keeping my eyes on the road.

Jack shifted in his seat. "It was good. The crowds were amazing, as always."

"Any local food you tried that would make me jealous?"

He nodded. "Yeah, tried a few things here and there. Nothing too fancy."

The city lights blurred into streaks of bright colour as we merged onto the freeway. The sound of the tires against the pavement provided a subtle backdrop to our conversation. Part of me wondered if I should turn on the music, but another part of me just wanted us to talk to fill the void instead.

"How about we order food for dinner tonight? Just have a lazy evening on the couch?" I suggested, building upon my last question.

"That sounds nice," he agreed with a smile, a fleeting expression that didn't quite reach his eyes.

I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel. It felt like there was this gap that had formed between us, like a void that was crumbling and making itself larger and larger as time passed. I wanted to bridge it, to reach across and pull him into the warmth of our shared space, but something held me back.

Eventually, I decided to reach for the radio, turning on a melody quietly to fill the car. But, the silence didn't feel any less tangible. It still had a stark presence. The tension seemed to grow thicker as I navigated through familiar streets. I wanted to ask him all the questions. To dive into the recesses of his mind. But the words lodged in my throat. Instead, I focused on the road, driving toward the comfort of home.

I pulled into the parking lot of our apartment building, parking the car where it had resided since Jack had left to go on tour. The engine quieted as I pulled the keys out of the ignition, highlighting the silence once more.

"Thanks for picking me up," Jack said, his voice a murmur.

"Always," I replied, taking hold of his hand and looking into his eyes.

He attempted another smile and got out of the car. I sighed before I got out as well. We gathered his luggage and went up to our floor by elevator. Jack just looked so exhausted the entire way up. I wanted to help, but I didn't know how.

He turned the key in our front door's lock, stepping inside and scanning the familiar surroundings.

"It feels good to be back," he said, but the words held an underlying uncertainty.

I knew exactly how he felt. I'd only been back here briefly before going to pick him up. Before that day, I'd only stayed with my dad. And even then, I'd only come by to drop off some groceries with my dad and I needed to get the car to pick up Jack. It felt so uneasy being home again.

There had been two scenarios surrounding my homecoming that I had imagined over the past few months. Initially, the scenario was me coming back after a half a year in London. It would have been exciting to be back home with Jack and my family again. Then, soon, the scenario switched to me coming home for my pregnancy, anticipation in the air. Now, though? It was like normal, but it didn't feel normal.

Jack set his bags down as I followed him in and closed the door behind me. The apartment, which had been our own little sanctuary since we had gotten together, felt different. There was an absence of the anticipated joy and hopeful futures. Unborn dreams were echoing in the air.

He wandered to the living room, his gaze skimming over the familiar furniture as if seeing it through new eyes.

"Want something to drink?" I offered, hoping that the simple act of hospitality could open a door to conversation.

He nodded, and I moved to the kitchen. I simply filled two glasses with water from the fridge and took them back with me. After placing one in front of him on the coffee table, Jack's eyes met mine with the tiniest flicker of gratitude.

I sat down beside him, everything feeling both so vast and so fragile. With a sip of my water, my heart urged me to breach the barrier. But it was so hard to find the right words.

Jack beat me to speaking up. "I missed this place."

"I missed you," I replied softly, reaching for his hand.

He glanced at our intertwined fingers, his expression unreadable. The unspoken pain still lingered heavily. I took a deep breath, finding the courage to finally approach the delicate subject.

"Jack, can we talk about it?" I asked, my voice a gentle plea.

He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes evading mine. "About what?"

"About the miscarriage. About how you're feeling."

His gaze flickered, a brief moment of vulnerability before the walls went up again. "Jace, I... I don't know how to talk about it. It's just... it's a lot."

"I understand," I traced circles on the back of his hand with my thumb, "but we can't keep avoiding it."

He withdrew his hand. "I just need time. Time to process everything."

My heart felt heavy with the weight of the unexpressed grief. But I accepted it. "Okay... I love you."

His gaze softened and replied, "I love you."

Maybe it wasn't much, but it felt like he meant the words. I hadn't completely lost him yet. He was still here with me. All I just wanted was for us to share this grief together, and I couldn't do that. As long as he closed himself off to me, we were going to be two separate islands floating in a vast sea.

"I'm sorry, Jace," he mumbled, seeing the conflict on my face.

"Don't be sorry, Jack. We're navigating uncharted waters," I replied, reaching for his hand once more. "We'll find our way through this, together."