Jesse's footsteps echoed in his ears as he padded toward Jack's room. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was half convinced it would stop altogether from the strain, and his stomach felt sick with dread. He reached a hand toward the door knob. Fletcher had offered to come with him, but he knew this was something he had to face on his own. Taking a deep breath he creaked the door open. There was Jack, sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked up.
Almost immediately the air between the two went electric. Jack held Jesse in a wide-eyed look as everything came back to him. But not one of fear or confusion like the night before. This was a fierce, churning anger.
For a moment, neither man could say anything. Both stayed frozen to the spot, taking in each other's presence. It was the first proper reintroduction they'd had since the furby incident, and based on how things were already looking, Jesse could tell it was going to be a far cry from a happy reunion.
"You," Jack hissed acidly. His nose crinkled into a snarl and his knuckles went white as he gripped the edge of the bed. Jesse swallowed hard. "You'd better have a damn good reason for being here." His voice came out both icy and vitriolic, a penetrating combination. Jesse flinched. This may have been the reception he'd been expecting, but it didn't make it hurt any less. He looked down.
"I'm not here to cause you any more trouble," He murmured, fiddling with the edges of his shirt as he spoke. "I—I just want to say—"
"What?" Jack interjected. "That you're sorry?" He let out a dry laugh. "And I suppose you expect me to forgive you?"
Jesse didn't answer. Of course he didn't expect any sort of grace from Jack, though Wren and Jennifer's willingness to give him a second chance had given him a hint of hope. Any trace of that had now been quickly dashed.
"You are really something, Jesse," Jack was saying. "I hope you're proud of yourself. Did you want to see me broken? Is that what you wanted? 'Cause you've done a pretty damn good job of getting me there!"
Jesse inhaled slowly. "Jack—"
"What, you want me to listen to you?" Jack retorted. "Just like you so graciously listened to me? Give me a break! Don't pretend like you care now."
"I was wrong to treat you that way," Jesse replied. "When I saw Fletcher like that I got—scared. I acted out."
"Something tells me that's not the only thing you acted out on." Jack snapped. "Since no one else will tell me, would you care to enlighten me? Where is my staff?"
Jesse looked away. "I...broke it."
Jack went quiet and Jesse didn't need to see his expression to feel the heat of his fury, even from across the room. If looks could kill, he would have had several bullet holes through his head.
"An eye for an eye, huh?" Jack finally asked in a wry tone. "Is that how you figured you'd play it?"
"It's not like that," Jesse started to explain, "I was angry, and I stopped thinking—"
"Don't bother!" Jack interrupted sharply. "Frankly, I don't care what you have to say. Sound familiar? I think you know how the rest goes."
Jesse ignored his attempt at a dismissal. "Like I said, I shouldn't have—"
"I don't care!" Jack's voice broke with emotion as he shouted. "You did it, okay? You drove me away and left me to die. Why the hell you decided to drag me back here only to hurt me further, I'll never know. You're a cruel man, Jesse. It would have been better if you'd never come back for me at all. I don't want your apologies, understand? I don't want to hear your pathetic attempt to clear your conscience."
Jesse said nothing, but all the while he gripped the hem of his shirt tighter and tighter, feeling less and less confident the more Jack laid into him. His words lacerated that tiny part of his heart he thought was hidden away under his many layers of stoicism. The one he thought he'd finally buried. The part of him that wanted nothing more than to do right by those he cared about, and to be accepted by them. The realization struck him. Somewhere, deep down inside, he did care about Jack. The thing was that Jack was so very similar to him, and seeing all his flaws and weaknesses pointed right back at him like that scared him. So he pushed him away time and again. Now he was standing in the shadow of the consequences of his own actions, and it was almost more than he could bear. The sinking feeling set in that he might have broken things beyond repair this time.
"I understand," He said at last, the defeat in his voice echoing his normally carefully concealed feelings. "I'll leave you alone."
Jesse staggered back the way he'd come. He felt hollow, completely gutted by Jack's words. He didn't bother looking up as he walked through the kitchen, though he could feel the others' curious gazes, eager to know how it went. His body language should have been telling enough for them. Thankfully no one asked him any questions, and he was able to peacefully make it up the stairs and to his room. He settled himself on his bed, switched off his desk lamp, and did his best to push Jack's words out of his mind.
At least you did your part, right? Fletcher's words came back to his head.
He let out a heavy sigh. All this wading through emotions and trying to fix things he couldn't see was wearing him out, dulling his senses and clouding his judgment. He needed something tangible to deal with for a change. Rest was something he could understand, and right now it sounded like just the thing he needed to recuperate. He'd done what he could. Now, he just wanted to move on.
