SOS Fan Fiction

'Bitter Burned Out Bastard' - Jack x Sana

Disclaimer: this story is NOT part of the official SOS storyline. It's just fan fiction! Enjoy 😊

Part 1 of B-Sides

Author: JJ (JJthatsall)

Jack's POV

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A/N:

A long, long time ago albums were released on vinyl records and cassette tapes that you had to flip over to play the second half. The radio release songs were typically up front on the A side, the hits. That's Ami. The B sides were not intended to be commercially successful. Many musicians used them to stretch their wings, try a new style or mood, allow a backup singer to take lead, etc. So here is a little B-side for one of my favorite backup boys, Jack Reynolds, Kayden's bestie, due for a little karma. And possibly a cameo or two from one of Ami's earlier works.

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Jack groaned but accepted the Facetime call, after finishing his first drink and pouring the second.

"You look like a half-empty sack of shit" was Kayden's clinical diagnosis. "You need to get off your ass and do something positive, reconnect, give back."

"Damn it, I've done enough giving. Every fucking day, every fucking time and it never fucking ends. I go in a room and the best fucking thing I can hope for is that I never see that particular patient again. I keep them from killing themselves or someone else and send them to the next fucking stop on this fucked-up train." Jack paused to top off his scotch.

Kayden liked that American style bourbon but Jack was a connoisseur and Macallan was his smooth luxury ride to oblivion.

He toasted his friend in silence and allowed his boozy mind to wander its own boozy path for a moment while Kayd droned on some psycho babble nonsense about depression and stagnation.

Jack was a psychiatrist, a certified head shrink and his head was just the right size, fuck you very much.
"Someone have a problem with the size of your head? I'll fight a bitch." The teasing note in Kayden's voice caught Jack's attention. Fucking inner monologue leaking out.

"Nah bro. No complaints here. Tumbleweeds can't talk." Jack didn't need to think about the Wild West ghost town that was his sex life right now. What he needed was more scotch. If he was going to run his mouth drunk, he was damn well going to be too drunk to make sense.

"Just consider it man. Pick up a class at the U. Take on an intern or something. Share your wisdom with the next generation. You're becoming a bitter, burned out bastard."

Jack grinned sloppily and saluted Kayden with his glass. "If you're so con, con... so worried about the next gen-ration, go knock up your wife."

An odd look crossed Kayd's face and Jack burst out laughing.

"Workin on your lil nuclear family already? Good Catholic boy. Doan call me to help paint your piglet, uh picket fence. Unless that's a euphajizm, eupha spasm, yoo fah gasm. Thing."

The conversation drifted away and so did the suggestion. But something stuck, some little germ of an idea infected his system. It multiplied and bred actions and decisions he was only partially aware of and completely unable to overrule.