Actions

Work Header

burnout

Summary:

Jack curled deeper in on himself, breaths hitching as he wept harder. He felt gross, he wasn’t supposed to cry, he was supposed to be a Big Man, the Jack-fucking-Manifold, Thunder. But here he was, sobbing in the arms of someone who may not care about him, but who he cares about, so fucking much.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“Niki, what's wrong with me?” he finally whispered out after a moment of silence, his breath hitching in the middle of his sentence. Was that too loud? Jack always seemed too damn loud. “Oh Jack, no,” she said mournfully, rushing in to hug him. She wrapped her arms around Jack, and he instantly melted, a sob catching in his throat as he went limp, dragging Niki down to the ground with him.

Now wasn't that familiar? Jack always felt like he was dragging someone down with him, if not that, then he had already hit bedrock. “Shh, shh,” Niki soothed, rocking back and forth in familiar and calming motions. Jack drew into himself, shuddering as he finally let it out on the sleeve of someone who has their own burdens.

He felt coarse hands rake through his hair, and he sobbed harder, gripping Niki’s shirt. Her hands were supposed to be smooth and soft, long healthy nails only broken by cracks and boredom. Instead, her hands were worn with what seemed years of war and hardships, rough and firm. Her nails were not long, but instead cut short, bitten and dirty. Residue of soul sand and blood blackening her hands. She was supposed to be a baker, not a war-worn soldier. She was supposed to be an innocent, but she has blood on her hands.

Jack curled deeper in on himself, breaths hitching as he wept harder. He felt gross, he wasn’t supposed to cry, he was supposed to be a Big Man, the Jack-fucking-Manifold, Thunder. But here he was, sobbing in the arms of someone who may not care about him, but who he cares about, so fucking much. He felt gross, blood, mud and dirt coating his trousers and shirt, he felt gross, and he felt so damn tired. Tired of crying, tired of fighting, and tired of trying to live. He wanted to live, but it was so goddamn exhausting.

Sometimes he wished he stayed in that hole.

“I’m so, so sorry Jack, but you don't need to run anymore, it's going to be okay, trust me.”

Notes:

so hi! this is my first time posting any work, thank u so much if you have taken time to read! i wrote this 2 months ago, like, right after the nov 28 streams, but i just thought it would be nice to post it.

im not all that much of an author, more of an artist, but if you want, you can follow me on twitter @lukasun_ !!