LOTF: Before and After

Phase 3: Chapter 61

"Is that what this has been about? This whole time? The whole reason you wound up in the hospital in the first place?" Ralph asked bitterly as he laid next to Jack on his bedroom floor. They both stared up at the glowing stars on the ceiling, hands and every part else to themselves.

Ralph was feeling both baffled and betrayed by Jack's decision not to tell him that he and his father had been fighting about the upcoming commemoration ceremony at Bainbridge Military Academy. Ralph had to find out from his mother, a woman who seemed to think Ralph already knew what Jack and Evan's fight was about when she brought it up. Maybe it wasn't fair to be angry, Ralph thought, but it didn't change the fact that he was.

"Not exactly" Jack took a deep breath in. "That's how it started, not how it ended."

"How did it end?" Ralph challenged, turning his head to look at Jack's shadowy face beside him.

Jack didn't answer right away as he considered how carefully he'd have to tread through these waters. He remembered his dad sitting atop him, crushing his bony little body with his full grown weight. Evan hit Jack so hard across the head, he fell into the side of the barstool chair beside him, cutting his face on the corner that would've required a lot of force be applied to it to make it sharp enough to do damage. Jack had no recollection of the time between when he'd been hit and when he found himself on the ground. Perhaps, it hadn't been more than a few seconds. But Evan wasn't finished; he never was until Jack was forced to accept defeat, surrender in his father's strong, more powerful grip, beneath whatever surface he'd have Jack pinned against. He remembered shuddering in pain as blood dripped down his face and onto his fingers as he dabbed at the open wound. He then made to get up and move somewhere, anywhere but Evan had him trapped, crushing him with his weight. Jack couldn't remember when the pain of the dislocations first occurred. It could've been when he fell or after his dad had pinned him down. It was all a hazy blur now.

Jack had provoked Evan, of course. He usually did. One might consider it impressive or just plain strange; the way Jack would fail to flinch or even make an attempt to get away when Evan would angrily approach him, ready for battle.

"You think you're fuckin' smart, huh?" Evan had snarled in Jack's face.

"Yeah" a devilish smiled had crept its way onto Jack's face. "I do" he daringly declared. Of course, Jack hadn't been lying. He did believe he was smart; whether intellectually or behaviorally depended on the specific circumstance. In this particular circumstance, it was behavioral for sure. Jack would never admit that he preferred to be beat than to be ignored; that the physical violence was the closest thing he'd ever get to physical affection from his father. Jack was willing to gamble with his life for it, wind up in a cast, or on a ventilator, or god forbid a body bag if it were to come down to it. Or at least, that's what Jack decided to believe. His relationship with Ralph played a crucial role in reshaping his warped sense of love and affection. He knew what it was like to be held, to be touched gently with good intention, to be coddled and caressed when he was aroused, comforted and cared for when he was hurt. Jack loved Ralph with every part of his overflowing heart, but Ralph alone couldn't save him, cure his family trauma, provide him with every form of love he'd ever need. That he'd have to continue to pursue of his own accord.

Jack craved the affection he'd been bargaining for his whole life. He'd been playing the game with his father for so long; acting out and being vile simply to get his attention, deciding that a slap might not be a hug but it was better than nothing at all. Jack failed to notice when his vulgar behavior expanded beyond his efforts to get his dad's attention. He was becoming a rather twisted, cruel child who was mean for the sake of being mean. He found sanctuary with kids like Roger Conroy, solidifying his place in social hierarchies with the aggressive approach his father took to be someone Jack wanted and needed, and hated that he wanted and needed. Jack too could be wanted and needed by people who couldn't hate him as badly as they might've wanted to. And he'd done that out on the island. But the key difference between Jack on the island and Evan in real life was that Evan's choices had never led to the end of anyone else's lives.

"It ended with the hospital" Jack finally answered, managing to divert the direct question.

"Why were you fighting about the ceremony?" Ralph bluntly asked. "He doesn't want you to go?"

"No" Jack sighed, "I don't want to go."

Ralph was surprised to hear that. He recalled the last ceremony the academy held in the honor of those who died before rescue came. He was surprised to run into Jack there in the bathroom after Ralph humiliated himself by throwing up in the assembly hall. This was shortly after their rescue, just over a year and a half ago now. Ralph couldn't imagine what would change Jack's mind about attending what he assumed would be a similar ceremony.

"How come?" Ralph asked gently, turning onto his side so he was properly facing Jack now.

"Haven't we all suffered enough?" Jack spoke bitterly into the air, his words sharp and pained. "We lived through it once, and then there was the first ceremony. Isn't that enough? Do we really have to keep living through it, reminding ourselves of what we went through for the rest of our fucking lives?"

"It isn't about reliving it, Jack. It's about paying respects for the kids who were robbed of the chance to live through it in full even once. They don't have the choice to go or not go. They didn't live long enough to make this decision, or any other decision. We have to live with it the rest of our lives, but there are others who don't have a life to live at all" Ralph harrowingly reminded him.

"So the rest of our lives people are gonna expect us to hold onto our sorrows for the sake of people who aren't even here to see it" Jack rephrased.

"No" Ralph countered in a tired voice. "But they're asking us to help keep their memories alive. I think it's the least we can do."

"The least we can do is nothing" Jack blatantly corrected him. "Why is that our job anyway? Are we supposed to feel guilty for surviving? It's not my fault I didn't die when the plane hit the water. I didn't choose who lived and who died. Why should I feel guilty about it?"

"I never said you should" Ralph pointed out. He wasn't going to say it, but Jack was the only one talking about fault and guilt. Perhaps, it said more about him than it did about anyone else. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to force you to go" Ralph insisted, "you don't have to, and I'm not gonna be mad at you or anything if you decide not to."

"Good" Jack let out a heavy breath. "I'm too tired to think about it anymore tonight anyway."

"Me too" Ralph agreed, turning his body back to face upward at the ceiling once again. "I love you" he said seemingly out of nowhere.

"Of course you do" Jack chuckled smugly. He sat up to carefully scoot himself closer to Ralph, laying down over the little space between their bodies. His injured arm was closest to Ralph, making it difficult for him to cuddle up beside the boy. So he settled for resting his head against Ralph's shoulder. The younger boy felt a familiar warmth consume him internally as he gently reached over to stroke Jack's arm atop the navy blue fabric of the sling. "I love you too" Jack finally reiterated, closing his eyes as an inevitable wave of peace came over him.

Ralph knew sleep wouldn't come as easily to him. He was worried about Jack, about what was going to happen when the seventh rolled around, about the commemoration ceremony, about every other silly little thing his mind could come up with. Jack was right, he did worry too much, even if sometimes it was well justified. But perhaps the opposite was true too; that Jack didn't worry enough. They both could stand to be a little more like the other, and maybe that was their secret weapon; what made them work when every voice of reason in the world would suggest that they never should have.