fair/unfair

22.

surprise motherfuckers

Reid and Mal texted each other the injuries.

Both the boys were fine, but all Jax had were busted knuckles, a few cuts breaking skin, and a split lip. Nick had a broken nose, a black eye, and a bruised...well everything.

He hadn't stood a chance. Not to Jax.

Is he gonna be alright?

Reid looks at his friends while he waits for Mal to text back. They're crushed on top of each other on the couch that's been rotting in Jax's basement. He's sitting on Jax's legs, molding him into the cushions while Grace's got one knee on his chest and the other crammed into the crook of his arm. They're both holding him down while Grace cleans the cuts on his face and Jax cries like a bitch.

"It stings!"

"It's fucking supposed to!" Grace yells back.

He elbows her in the face and she yelps. "Stop being a penis, Jackson, and take it like a woman!"

"That's not how it goes!" He struggles in their grasp, trying to wriggle out from under them.

"Keep talking," Grace grits out, holding down his other arm, nails digging into his skin to get him to stop flailing while she dabs alcohol on his cuts, "and I'll pour the whole thing down your throat,"

Reid's phone buzzes and whatever Jax's reply is, he doesn't hear it.

Yeah.

Maybe.

Bobbie patched him up but he's sulking because he's going to look a fucking mess for the party.

He creeps cringing at the mirror everytime he walks past.

Think he's crying in his room right now.

Reid manages a half smile, dismissing the sudden thud-thud of his chest at the mention of the Fourth of July party. He wasn't thinking about that right now. Blissfully ignoring. His phone buzzes again.

Jack?

His smile graduates to a full.

Basking in his victory. But it's Jax. And you knew that, dick.

Mal texts back a row of smileys that's completely uncharacteristic to his usual, non-emoji replies and it takes Reid a moment to wonder how to reply before the next text comes in.

Wish you were here.

Miss me?

Miss your mouth.

Dick.

Mal sends a winky face. With the tongue sticking out. Reid resists the urge to abandon Jax and Grace then and there. Would that make him a bad friend? Probably.

But weren't they all?

Instead, he locks his phone and cradles it anxiously in his hands. Jax has finally stopped struggling but Reid thinks the noise that sounds like a muffled kick puppy is coming from him.

"If you hadn't gotten in a fight," Reid reminds him, "you wouldn't have to go through this."

He flips Reid off.

"I'm serious, Jax."

"Yeah, you're always serious, Reid." He bats Grace's hands away and she finally just huffs climbs off his chest, gathering all of the medical supplies and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. Jackson sits up. "That's the problem."