#this is what happens when i don’t feel like drawing but they’re on the midn

[soni-dragon]

another one

[writingesgaypism]

Leave the Light On, Pt. 2

Part 1: here

Part 2: this is it!

In which Jackie experiences conflict they’ve been pretending doesn’t exist for four years and then still refuses to talk about it. Alternatively: in which Jackie does Finley a concern.

And as always, thanks to @thenickelportrust for letting me bug her with questions so I don’t mess up her kids.

Jackie lets out an explosive sigh as soon as the door closes behind them. “I’m sorry, Finn. This was supposed to be about both of us getting time to relax and here I am cutting that short so I can hide in your apartment.”

They hum. “First of all, it’s important to me that you’re able to do what’s best for you. If that bar wasn’t it, then I’m more than happy to offer my place. Second, that’s quitter talk, Lanse. I’m relatively sure that my whiskey is better, and I know my couch is more comfortable than a booth.”

“You’re something else, Finn,” they say with a shake of their head.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Jackie stops in front of the window that looks over the East Bay, their hands clutching the opposite elbow as they wrap their arms around themself. The sun’s gone down by now, and with the light on in the apartment all that can be seen in the glass is their reflection against a black backdrop. They seem to be staring through themself, though. Eventually they turn around and move to the couch. They pull their legs up and under them, pulling the sleeves of their sweater over their hands.

“Are you going to stand there all night cataloguing my every action?” they ask dryly.

“If you’re going to keep giving me actions to catalogue.” They shrug lightly and sit next to them. Not all the way at the end, but far enough away that they have space if they want it. “Have you been doing all right, Jackie? Honestly?”

“I’m always honest.”

They level them with an unimpressed look.

Jackie looks away. “I’m just… tired. And this being the day we signed the divorce papers, and it being four years since then… It all just feels very - I just - It’s -” They cut off with a frustrated growl. “I can keep going and as long as I’m moving I’m fine. But I’m only human. I have to stop sometime. And those days are just… difficult sometimes.”

Finley hesitates, watching the hard line of their clenched jaw. “Have you considered…”

“Finn.”

They don’t snap, exactly, and the emotion underlying that one word isn’t really anger. But there’s force in it and Finley stops immediately. They know Jackie doesn’t want to hear that maybe they should let go, or at least take a break. They know all Jackie wants to do is pretend that nothing’s the matter and that they can keep running after their ex indefinitely. But they can’t. They both know that.

Jackie stands suddenly and paces away from the couch. “Finley, I have a question.”

They raise an eyebrow at their back. It isn’t like Jackie to announce their intent instead of just… doing it. “Shoot,” they say cautiously.

Jackie’s hands fold behind their back. They catch a glimpse of their fingers beginning to tighten before Jackie spins around to hide their hands. Their hands are always their tell. But they don’t seem to want their face visible either. They walk behind the couch to look through the window again.

They think about making a joke about more actions to catalogue, but they don’t think Jackie’s in the mood.

“I’ve been noticing some discrepancies in the way you act,” they say, and Finley stills before quickly forcing themself to return to their former posture. They’d bet anything that Jackie’s watching them through the reflection in the window. “It’s been going on for some time and I kept telling myself that I must be reading too much into it.”

Finley pointedly does not stand up or turn around. They lean forward on the couch, elbows on their knees. “But?”

There’s a few beats of silence before they feel a weight settling on the back of the couch, pulling at the cushions against their lower back. “You always want to be close to me, but if I ever get too close you pull back. You’re quick to offer aid to most people, but sometimes I don’t even get through the request before you agree. You pay closer attention to and are more likely to smile or laugh at the things I say and do.” They stop. The breath they take is quiet enough that Finley wouldn’t have been able to hear it if they hadn’t been sitting just behind them.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Finn.”

Do they want to be wrong? They haven’t exactly said what they suspect, but it’s obvious enough. They could lie, play it off as a byproduct of their friendship. But they don’t want to lie to Jackie. They’d gotten enough of that from their last relationship.

They shake their head. “How could I not, Jackie? How could I avoid it when you make it so easy?”

The weight disappears and only now does Finley allow themself to turn.

Jackie walks to the window, turns around, meets Finley’s eyes, and turns back to the window. They fidget with their hands in front of them, just barely visible in their reflection. Abruptly they spin around and pace to the other side of the room and then stand there, arms held tight across their chest, facing away. They begin to shake their head, slowly at first and then more emphatically.

“No, that can’t - you can’t - I can’t!” They turn once more to face them, though they keep their distance. “I can’t, Finn. Do you get that?”

They can’t say they expected Jackie to return their feelings, but even they hadn’t predicted this level of rejection. Still, the end result is the same. They push down their own emotions and try for a small smile.

“I know, Jackie. I don’t expect anything. You -”

“That isn’t -” They interrupt themself to shake their head again, hands clenching into fists. “Fuck. I can’t - I - All this time I’ve - And now -! I know, I know, I always knew that it would be better to - But I can’t, Finn, I just can’t.”

Finley half stands in alarm, listening to the degradation of Jackie’s precise diction. “Hey, Jackie, it’s all right. Just, why don’t you sit down.”

“I don’t need to sit down!” they snap. “I need - This can’t happen. I’m not -”

They’ve known Jackie almost as long as they’ve been in Nickelport. As far as they’re aware Jackie came to town specifically to work at The Rust, and they wasted no time in getting the job as soon as they were settled. So four years. Four full years they’ve known Jackie and not once have they ever witnessed a loss of control this intense.

They approach them cautiously, as one might a wild animal, brows furrowed as they run through their options. But Jackie looks up at them before they’ve made it halfway and they freeze in place at the look in their eyes.

“You don’t - don’t get it,” they say, backing up. “It’s like - This whole time -”

Finley lets them maintain their space, holding their hands up in a gesture of appeasement. ‘This whole time’. They get the sense they aren’t talking about Finley’s feelings, or not just their feelings. This whole time, what? And ‘I always knew that it would be better to’.

“I have to go,” Jackie is muttering. They give Finley a wide berth as they make for the door but Finley catches their arm before they can turn the handle.

Jackie pulls their arm back, easily breaking Finley’s light hold, and glares. But Jackie’s anger is easier to deal with than their vacant-eyed distress and they don’t back down. Finley moves to stand between them and the door, carefully. They aren’t trying to present a threat, just a gentle deterrent.

“You know you shouldn’t be driving right now,” they say calmly. “And you probably shouldn’t be alone either.”

“I do not want to do this in front of you,” they say, over-enunciating each word.

“Okay,” Finley says, “that’s a start. Don’t want to do what?”

They look away.

“Okay,” Finley repeats. “That’s fine. Why don’t you sit?”

Jackie looks past them to the door, but after a moment they turn and sit on the couch. They huddle in the corner, pressed between the armrest and the backrest like it’s the only thing holding them together. Finley stays where they are.

“I can give you space to think,” they say softly, “but you need to promise me that you won’t try to go anywhere if I do. I know you can take care of yourself, but right now I’d rather you stay someplace safe.”

“No,” Jackie says, staring through them. “No, you’re right. I’ll stay here, just…”

Finley nods. “I’ll be in my office, then.”

They leave Jackie to the living room and step into what used to be Maris’ room, shutting the door behind them as quietly as they can. If Jackie is calm enough to admit that they shouldn’t be adding the stress of an unpredictable setting to their current list of worries, then they’re calm enough for Finley to not have to babysit them.

The downside to this, is that without feeling the need to remain calm for them Finley can feel their own control crumble. This… This is a nightmare scenario.

Something is bothering Jackie and their own inconvenient feelings have only made it worse. They’ve never seen Jackie look so panicked before, so lost. They don’t know how to help since they don’t know the full extent of what’s going on in Jackie’s head, and they don’t even know if their help would be welcomed after they’d just admitted to feelings Jackie clearly doesn’t share. They aren’t vain enough to believe that they’re even a small part of the problem, let alone an integral part, but Jackie shouldn’t have to deal with this new information on top of everything else.

They’re pacing before they know it, an endless back and forth that erodes their awareness of time, if not their awareness of the person in the other room.

Jackie isn’t untouchable. Of course they aren’t. No one is. But they’ve seen Jackie handle difficult assignments and days when their past has weighed particularly heavy with aplomb and grace, and something about seeing Jackie so shaken is enough to shake them, too.

Eventually they become aware of an ache in their legs and draw to a stop. Their feet and lower back beg them to sit, but instead they check the clock. It’s nearly midnight.

They hadn’t heard the front door, though there’s some doubt in their mind as to whether they would have noticed the sound of a door through the din of their worries. After a moment’s hesitation, they decide it would be best to check in briefly and make to leave the office. They pause once their hand is on the handle, however. Perhaps they would resent being interrupted, but - no. Even if they’re still in the middle of sorting things out, a good night’s rest could only be of benefit.

Finley steps through the door and down the short hallway back to the living room, only to find Jackie asleep on the couch. They stop just inside the room, eyebrows furrowed.

They’re curled up in an awkward position, turned three-quarters of the way sideways so they can lean their temple against the back of the couch without twisting their neck. But this means that their legs are tucked underneath them in a way that’s certain to hurt in the morning, and the way their arms are held close to their body speaks to how cold they must be out here with no blanket.

With a sigh, Finley steps closer as quietly as they can. Gently, slowly, they gather Jackie up in their arms to take them to the bedroom.

They shift, murmuring something that sounds like, “When did you get home?” But then they tuck their head against Finley’s chest and settle back down, and Finley resumes their careful walk to the bedroom. They set Jackie down on top of the covers, using the blanket kept folded on the end of the bed for particularly cold nights to tuck them in. They straighten up with a worried frown when Jackie shifts again, but all they do is turn their face into the pillow.

Without thinking about it, they begin to reach out a hand to… what? They pause, guessing and second guessing, until they give up on analyzing their motives and brush Jackie’s bangs out of their eyes. Their hair immediately falls back into place and Finley chuckles helplessly, covering their mouth with their other hand. They really do need to get it cut.

And Finley really needs to go somewhere else. They back out of the room, shutting the door behind them and heading for the hall closet for pillows and blankets. They’ll take the couch tonight and in the morning… Coffee. Lots of coffee.