#and he goes >:( shut up you’re almost forty >:( cradle snatcher

[tedthetalk]

Antagonist’s constant old-man body (physical stress) problems vs wife being older than him FIGHT

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Complementary (Collins x OC) Chapter 24: Survive

Summary: Another familiar face returns to Jack’s life after a five year absence.

AN: Dialogue heavy chapter, oops.

Trigger warning: Elements of PTSD referenced

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“Jack, the phone’s for you,” Genevieve yelled through the walls. An avalanche of footsteps came through the doorway and Jack in his neatly ironed trousers and button-up leapt around the corner to land beside his girlfriend. His girlfriend. He still wasn’t over that title.

“Thanks, my love,” He pecked her cheek before taking the receiver, “Hello? Yes, this is Collins speaking.”

Genevieve left him alone to hobble down the stairs – fewer thankfully than his last place - and get back to cleaning the car. Jack had somehow managed to get mud all over it whilst driving home after a visit. It was only fair that she help to clean it after helping him move into his new flat.

She was done with the windshield, the left hand side of the car and was just starting on the bonnet before Jack made an appearance. Genevieve had a slackers joke prepared as she stood up to greet him but she was cut off. Skin ashen, Jack pressed his palms into the roof and stared without seeing at the front seat.

“You alright?” Genevieve dropped the sponge into the bucket.

As she drew closer, she could hear that he was borderline hyperventilating. Rubbing his back, she waited patiently for him to calm down. Her touch helped to ground Jack with the coolness of the car’s roof and the splashes of water droplets.  

“It’s Farrier. He’s alive. He wants to meet with me.”

The man she’d only seen in a photo in Jack’s sitting room that meant so much to Jack, he was here. He was here in London. Genevieve found herself short of breath with him.

Finally she spoke “When does he want to see you?”

“Now.”

“And you said yes?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Genevieve nodded, acknowledging that cleaning the car was nowhere near the top of their priority list anymore, “Do you want to get ready?”

“No, I want to go now.”

“Ok.”

Jack didn’t question Genevieve dumping the bucket in the foyer and taking the car keys. He complied by sitting in the front seat and mumbled directions to the Red Lion. The claustrophobia of the car didn’t help. Usually the space’s effect on him was minimal but now it’d grown exponentially. It was a decade at least before they pulled up outside the chosen location of the rendezvous.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Genevieve asked, hand on the key in case he should say yes.

Without a word, Jack shook his had. His mind was spinning with what he was gonna do. What could he say? Hey Farrier, long time no see, how was the camp? Would he remember him? Lord knows what happened to him in Germany. In fact, he didn’t want to know and made a not to steer clear of that topic. Jack’s knee bounced like a hyperactive toddler, his hands clasping his face and holding his breath.

Genevieve placed a hand on Jack’s knee, squeezing it. The bouncing subsides and Jack released his face to take her hand.

“What do I say?” He asked softly.

“I hear ‘hello’ is a great conversation starter,” Genevieve joked, “And Englishmen do love small talk about the weather.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack said sarcastically but, in reality, he was grateful for the diffusion of the tension, even if it was only a little.

“Take your time,” Genevieve said with integrity this time, “I’ll be out here if you need me. Just go in when you’re ready. If Farrier’s anything like you described him on his breaks, he’ll appreciate a little humour.”

“Yeah, he did… does, he does,” Jack took a deep breath, kissed Genevieve’s hand and opened the car door, “You’ll be back in half an hour?”

“Right here, half an hour on the dot,” Genevieve nodded.

Smiling appreciatively, Jack’s voice cracked as he thanked her. Coughing to steady his voice, he left his car and shut the door. It didn’t drive away until he was at the door, ensuring that he was at least considering to go ahead with this meeting. He didn’t believe in God but Jack still muttered a brief prayer before entering.

Upon entering, Jack scanned the patrons. Not many people came to the pub at two in the afternoon so it was easy enough to narrow it down. There was a man sat with his back to the door beside the window overlooking the beer garden.

Jack stared at his comrade with shameful curiosity for the first time in five years. His heart punched his breastbone repeatedly and not in the usual way it did. It wasn’t like his first glimpse of Genevieve; almost everything had changed. His tanned skin bore a sallow hue, sinking into his skull. His hair was thinning and, although it was combed neatly, it was obvious that it had clumps missing. Scars littered his features. His skinny frame was buried underneath his coat.

“Collins!” His face lit up and he stood to hug him. He was still surprisingly strong, despite his the tremor in his arms. Farrier grunted and wheezed, the laugh escaping his chest as they left the embrace and looked upon one another. Jack joined in with relief, going a little pink as Farrier stared him down with the rare smile that was famous among the RAF base they were both on.

“Long time, no see, eh?” Farrier’s hand lightly slapped his colleague’s arm.

“You could say that,” Jack pressed his lips into a smile.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“I think so, yes.”

Two whiskeys were delivered to their table as Jack took a seat opposite Farrier. The younger man was trying not to cry and nursed his drink carefully so as not to kickstart his motor mouth.

“I guess it’s ridiculous to ask how you are,” He let out a hollow laugh.

“You’d be right.” Farrier leant his forearms against the table, “But I’m gonna ask how you are. Good to see you made it out the Spitfire.”

“Ah, you remember.”

“Course I do. I’m not an amnesiac.”

“Right, of course,” Jack shuffled in the chair, “Your mother’s been to see you then.”

“Oh, she did. Made it out the air raids, she was telling me about. New flowers every day I was in hospital. Stench’s over-powering,” Farrier smiled fondly. It was odd, seeing him smile so much. But it was nonetheless beautiful. In spite of this more expressive persona, the more he stared, the more Jack realised Farrier hadn’t transformed all that much, same old handsome tough sonofabitch.

Jack snapped back into formality, “My mother’s the same. Doesn’t like that I don’t stay with her no more.”

“You still in that tiny fuck-off flat then?” Farrier raised a brow, highlighting his eyes.

“No, actually, I’ve moved out to a bigger one.”

“Atta boy, Collins!” Farrier slapped his arm again over the table, “Finally got a backbone.”

Jack laughed, “Oh it wasn’t my idea but I’m sure as hell glad I went along with it.”

“What, your mum force you out?”

“No, I’ve moved closer to my girlfriend.” Jack braved a look up. There, Farrier’s smile was replaced by a look of admiration – another famed rarity on their old base.

“So? Tell me about her!” He egged on, leaning forward with interest. Whilst Jack shuffled his chair closer, his heart was shot with a brief yet painful pang that he ignored and repressed.

“Uh, her name’s Genevieve. She was actually on the sailboat that picked me out the Spitfire when I crashed.”

“You got a kid for a girlfriend?”

“What?”

“Well if she’s too young to be a nurse, she’s too young for you, you creep,” Farrier joked, his wheezing laugh interjecting the words. It took Jack a moment to figure out what Farrier was referring to then he quickly leapt to his own defence.

“No! No, I ain’t a cradle-snatcher or nothing. She was on the boat ‘cus she was picked up too.”

“Real meet-cute there. When do I get to meet her?” Farrier clasped his hands in front of him, already taking up the role of moderator.

“She’ll be back in fifteen minutes if you wanted to…”

“Great. Can’t wait,” Farrier took a long sip from his tumbler. The ice clinked against the glass as it was placed back on the table. Jack copied him, trying not to splutter on the whiskey.

“You got anyone?” He asked quietly.

“Nah,” Farrier said finitely. That closed that topic of conversation with a short stop of silence before Farrier brought up Jack’s ma. But soon enough there was a car parking outside the pub again.

“That’s her.” Jack strained his neck to see it. Then he turned to Farrier for confirmation again.

“Yeah, sure, bring her in,” Farrier waved ascent, “Since I’m the reason you got together, I’ll be the judge of whether she’s good for you or not.”

“Farrier, it wasn’t your fault I got-”

“Hey,” Farrier leant forward with a pointed finger and serious expression, “Go get your girl. That’s an order, Fortis 2.”

Jack half-smiled, “Right you are, Fortis 1.”

He quickly exited the pub and knocked on the car window. Genevieve was reading a large book titled “Picture of Dorian Gray”; upon seeing Jack, she marked the page and closed it.

“How is Farrier?” She opened the door and stepped out to hug him. He didn’t initially know that he needed this but Jack clung to her, his face in her neck, and felt any remaining tension slip away.

He whispered, “He’s almost the same as before.”

“That’s a relief.”

“-But,” Jack continued, releasing her from his grip, “He’s not well. Feels guilty about a ton of stuff.”

“That’s less of a relief,” Genevieve said bluntly, unable to think of something else to say in comfort.

“He wants to meet you.”

Genevieve pinched his shoulders, fingering his jacket’s material before responding, “I mean, you showed me photo off to your other pilot pals. Don’t want to make Farrier feel left out.” Jack went red as Genevieve smirked at him, looping her arm through his.

They walked back over to the door, “Go on, ladies first.”

“He’s your friend?”

“He’s expecting my girlfriend.”

“I can’t believe arguing about who goes first into a room, is that a thing couples do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fine, I’ll go in first,” Genevieve pushed through the door. If she was surprised by Farrier’s condition, she didn’t show it. Instead she put on a smile akin to his – genuine and winsome.

“Hey, I’m Genevieve but I’m sure Jack’s already introduced me.”

“He’s done the same for me, I bet,” Farrier stood and shook her outstretched hand. Then he grunted at Jack who was stood an awkward few feet away, “What are you doing over there, you tosspot?”

“Uh, observing,” Jack stuck his hands in his pockets.

Rolling her eyes at her partner, Genevieve turned back to Farrier, “So, tell me, was he always an inarticulate bumble or is that saved specially for me?”

“Oh Christ,” Jack covered his face and dropped into the chair beside her.

“He was always terrible with women, I can remember that. Stammering over his words and asking random questions, completely inept,” Farrier grinned at Jack as he took a seat with his girlfriend.

Sensing his discomfort, Genevieve squeezed his hand in his lap before finishing her quips, “Oh, I thought he was shivering with the cold or shock. I pinned his question about my favourite colour on that too.”

“Good God, Collins, how’d you get her to stick around?”

“Well, when you almost drown then pull a bunch of soldiers out of oil, you are kind of bonded whether you like it or not,” Genevieve said with sarcastic wisdom. Farrier stiffened slightly but it passed as he began his cross-examination to see if she was a worthy partner for Jack.

“So, were you a nurse then?”

“No, I was a sniper.”

“Collins, marry this woman right now.”

Going silent, Genevieve’s ear went red. Jack began to choke on his own top button, tugging to undo it. Farrier’s wheezing laughter filled the room as he spluttered over their awkwardness. Exchanging a brief moment of eye contact, Jack and Genevieve stared into their laps.

Finally, she managed to stammer out a response, “I-I don’t think that’s the best criteria to measure a person’s partner.”

“Nah,” Farrier chuckled, “I can tell you’re good.”

Jack quickly downed his drink and signalled for the bartender to bring another as he gulped it down.

“Woah, slow down. If I remember correctly, you’re a real lightweight,” Farrier said whilst tapping his tumbler. At this comment, Genevieve remembered a certain comment Jack had said during her time at his ma’s house.

“Yeah, he really is,” She mumbled to herself, wishing that she could also be drinking.

After drinking another two rounds of whiskey to stomach his nerves, Jack bade Farrier farewell. He pulled him back into a hug and Jack took a moment to process that this needed to be reciprocated. His arms carefully constricted around Farrier who had his nose in his shoulder. Somehow the two inches height difference between them was also consistent through the years.

He disregarded Genevieve’s hand and pulled her into an equally tight hug. She responded faster than Jack had and with a beaming smile.

“I’ll be seeing you both,” He grinned before turning away and walking the opposite direction.

Jack was quiet on the way home. He stared out the window as Genevieve drove home. She didn’t try to make him speak, knowing that today had been emotionally taxing for him. The car was clean anyway; she’d done it whilst waiting for the half an hour interlude to be up.

Still quiet, Jack realised that Genevieve couldn’t get home because he’d had too much to drink which is why she followed him to his flat. But this opened up an opportunity for him as he closed the door behind them and remembered his evening routine.

“You know what I said the other day about…?” He nodded over to the bathroom.

Genevieve followed his gesture and caught on, “You want me to help you?”

“Please.”

Touching his shoulder for comfort, Genevieve headed into the bathroom. She rolled up her sleeves and switched up the taps. Hand swirling around the mix the cold and hot water together in the perfect temperature, it shook the droplets off just as Jack stripped down to his underwear behind the tub.

Genevieve helped Jack into the bath, unfazed by the amount of skin revealed to her. She helped him get down to his knees then sit down properly in the low level of water. As he shuddered in the warmth, he heard Genevieve whispering that he was doing so well. It was nice to hear her say this to him in real life and not in his head. Much more believable as he felt her lather up his left arm with his green flannel. As she reached his shoulder, he took it and cleaned his other arm.

Kneeling beside him, Genevieve took the cup from his sink and poured water over the suds. They slid down his chest to pop on the water’s surface. She repeated this several times until he was content that he was clean. Washing his own hair, he stood and accepted the towel Genevieve gave him.

She left him to get changed out of his underwear and into his robe. As he exited, she was back at his desk looking at the photos. Jack tensed, as he remembered the something that resided in that desk, before walking over to her side. He was welcomed with her open arms.

“That really helped,” He accepted her hug, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my love.”

My love. That was what he was and that’s what Genevieve was to him. He knew it. He felt it. So why in that moment was he questioning it?

AN: I’m including parts of their day-to-day lives that have been impacted by the war because I want more of a healthy relationship that has mutual respect and where both parties accommodate their partner. The title comes from Survive which is one of my favourite pieces of music from the film “Mad Max: Fury Road” and pairs nicely with Escape. Farrier’s one helluva guy (with touch starvation).

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Complementary tag: @you-are-the-first-dream, @disneydirectioner, @from-the-clouds and @lavidademarimar