He Doesn't Talk Much - Jacksepticeye Egos Fanfic

Chapter 11 - August 3rd

August 3rd, 2017. A day that any theorist worth their salt has burned into their memory.

Chase Brody's fists shook as he stared blankly through the upstairs window of Henrik's clinic. The sky was dark, the London streets dotted with islands of yellow light. It was too damn quiet.

"Chase," a familiar voice said, causing him to turn. Jackieboyman was standing in Henrik's waiting room like a lighthouse over an inky ocean.

"Yeah?" Chase said, flinching inwardly as he felt his voice break.

"He's... he's not coming back."

Chase locked his jaw. "I know that." They were talking about Henrik- in the wake of the disaster, he was nowhere to be found.

"Oh," Jackie replied, awkwardly. He glanced through the open window. "I thought you were..."

"I wasn't looking for him, if that's what you're thinking," Chase snapped. "I'm not an idiot. Sometimes, people leave, and they don't come back." Those last words stung Chase's tongue; no sooner had he said them than he regretted it. But Jackie's gaze softened anyway.

The hero chewed on his tongue for a moment. "You're right," he said, and his voice was so quietly heartbroken that Chase nearly blurted out an apology. "Jameson needs rest," Jackie continued, "I don't want to move him, and I don't think we should split up tonight. Do you think you can stay here with us?"

Chase nodded quickly. "Yeah, dude. Absolutely."

"How's he taking it?" Chase asked, gingerly. He began to follow Jackie across the waiting room, toward the back of the clinic.

"He needs time," Jackie replied. "He's going to be..." Jackie tripped over his words. "...not... not okay, but he's going to get better."

"Right," Chase sighed. Then, his pulse quickened. "What about Jack?"

"Oh, shit," Jackie said, furrowing his brow. "I don't know. Wasn't he... did Henrik save him?"

"He flatlined, Jackie," Chase shook his head, stopping at the door. "He's..."

"No," Jackie insisted. "No, he can't be dead. That's ridiculous."

"Jackie, don't be-"

"Fuck, Chase! I'm not having this conversation! Y-you-" Jackie wheeled around. "Just- just go back to his apartment. See for yourself. I- I-"

"I thought we were sticking together?" Chase barked.

"Whatever!" Jackie shouted back. His chest was heaving. "Just go!"

"Jackie-"

"Go, Chase," Jackie growled, his fingers snapping into fists. Chase stepped back. Jackie could pommel him if he really wanted to. But he didn't, did he-?

"I'm... I'm going," Chase acquiesced. "I'll go check on Jack. You take care of JJ."

"Chase..." Jackie said, suddenly going white. Something in Chase's eyes seemed to have taken the bite out of him. "I'm... sorry..."

"It's okay," Chase replied kindly, stepping toward the door. "It's been a horrible day. I get it. Just take care of Jameson. I'll be back."

Chase caught one last glance of Jackie's panicked eyes before the clinic door swung shut behind him. He dropped his head to his chest with a heavy sigh and made for the exit with heavy feet.

He hoped against hope that Jack had survived, somehow.

Please, just let him be alive. That's all, he thought, desperately.