[Recollé] Telenovela Ep1: Tony y Jack
It couldn't be said Tony had ever been Jack's biggest fan. No, not the fondest of the guy. Downright animosity came to mind as a good descriptor. But he'd made...not nice, he was bad at nice, but he'd kept the more choice words in his mind and his hands in his pockets instead of arranged into fists planted in Jack's smug face.
All for Sofia's sake. Every last bit of it. She loved the guy. What more could he do for a friend who'd gotten him through some of his darker times than be supportive? If his feelings for her strayed a little deeper all the more reason to shut up and stick it out for her.
That wasn't Sofia at his door now though. Jack wasn't looking too hot and something about that put Tony on edge. He didn't move aside to let the other man in. "Looking for something? Hooters is right around the corner. They've got a great brunch line up."
Hi Jack. Nice to see you. Or not.
All for Sofia's sake. Every last bit of it. She loved the guy. What more could he do for a friend who'd gotten him through some of his darker times than be supportive? If his feelings for her strayed a little deeper all the more reason to shut up and stick it out for her.
That wasn't Sofia at his door now though. Jack wasn't looking too hot and something about that put Tony on edge. He didn't move aside to let the other man in. "Looking for something? Hooters is right around the corner. They've got a great brunch line up."
Hi Jack. Nice to see you. Or not.
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"Jacket stays," he coughs up, managing to pry himself away from it - it's the jacket, his one and only, some leather affair that's seen years of dust and dirt and who the hell even knows what else, and it makes him look bigger than he actually is. Without it, Jack's broad shoulders don't do him much good when the rest of him is wiry from hard work, lean from too little food. The patches that proudly showed his MC and rank are gone now, torn from the jacket by brute force. There's no better way to show that he's done.
Jacket stays, bullet hole and bloodstain included, but everything else can go. Jack takes a moment to yank his shirt up on the right side and scowl at the massive stretch of tortoiseshell bruising across his ribs. Definitely broke a few somethings.
But there's something else on his mind, and he doesn't start towards the bathroom just yet, letting his shirt drop.
"If you want me gone, I'm gone."
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"...You remember that speech I gave at your wedding? Some cutesy little thing about Sofia and me meeting at a movie theater and her making me walk her home from school every day?" Reaching above the fridge he grabs a dusty first aid kit, yanking it out from beneath a stack of phonebooks. A gray tabby meows indignantly and hops down, bouncing off Jack's shoulder before landing on the counter. "We didn't. She caught me trying to jump off a bridge."
And suddenly it maybe makes a lot of sense why Tony's always been around. And just what Jack's taken from him. "So shut your piehole and get in the damn shower, Dawes."
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But Tony's presence makes a hell of a lot more sense now, and Jack starts to think that maybe he... well, wasn't wrong to prickle at Tony's presence, but maybe should've asked more questions. Gotten to know him. She'd had to save both their dumb asses at some point, so maybe they had more in common than Jack thought.
"Yeah, alright." No argument. Jack carefully pries the shirt off, loses the boots, and nonchalantly tears off the bandaging over his shoulder. Broke his clavicle, apparently, and son, if it had gone any lower, it would've hit your heart. (Insert unsympathetic doctor gaze and quiet judgment from the nurses.) But it's clean and it's not going to kill him, so it'll just be another interesting scar to add to his collection. It'll match the ones on his back nicely. "You need to do any doctoring, or should I just soap the crap out of this thing?"
He's dumb, Tony, just bear with him.
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"Sit on the couch. Right now. I have to make a call."
And that's how fifteen minutes later Jack's wound is cleaned and dressed in fresh bandages and Tony is wrapping up a conversation on the handheld smooshed between his ear and his shoulder. "So we just put a trash bag over it. Unhunh. Got it. Thanks Yvonne. Couldn't put my pants on without ya."
Hanging up he looks at Jack. There is no way this arrangement is going to last a week. Hell they'll probably kill each other within the space of a few days. "You better not be looking at me expecting a spongebath."
Stating for the record here.
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The faux-strangling makes Jack bark a laugh that turns into a wheeze, but probably not for the reasons Tony expects. (Or maybe he does. No telling what Tony thinks he did to kill the guy.)
But when Tony's off the phone, Jack's got himself propped into a vaguely comfortable position on the couch, mismatched eyes following him lazily.
"If you're gonna kill me, don't do trash bags. What you wanna do is feed me to dogs. Pigs are better, but I dunno if anybody around here has enough pigs."
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Jack needs to make up his mind in this crazy...whatever they're having. Tony swears he can almost hear Sofia's teasing, "so you can be nice after all, Anthony boy". Always had to push his buttons like that. Always. Shoving the rest of everything in back in the first aid kit he looks at Jack. Really looks for probably the first time since he showed up at the door. It's pretty clear Jack's not dealing well. Sitting all comfy on his couch? Tony would have bet nuclear winter would happen first before either of them would allow the atmosphere between them to ever be this...chummy.
Almost makes him want to vomit. Yep.
Jokes aside though, Tony can't say he's doing much better. Just hides it better. And isn't that a kick. There's doubtless some quaint Aesop here about turning around and using what Sofia taught him for someone else, but he doesn't want to think about it. "Wanna talk about it?"
'It' being whatever Jack wants. Tony's not exactly the best listener, but it's kind of hard to ignore a guy commandeering on his couch.
did you miss the tl;dr because shady's back
Well, kind of. He's still in shock, so once that wears off, that's probably going to change. The offer gets a scoff that hurts him, though, curling up on himself, wheezing his breaths until they even out a little.
"Jesus, what are you? My fucking therapist?" His voice is low, but rising as he stands, raking a hand through his hair so hard he pulls strands. It's dirty, tangled. He's got dirt under his nails and across his exposed skin, and he's bloody from those scratches, and if there is any bandaging on them, he's tearing it off. Tony's not the best listener and Jack isn't the best with feeling things - Sofia's known that since she met him. He never attacked her, but he'd attacked others, fell into fits of violent rage that only she could stop, and maybe Tony's seen her do that. Now she's not here, and he knows he can't afford to lose control here, because she'd be so angry with him if she knew he'd done that to Anthony.
That doesn't mean he can't pace around the coffee table and across the apartment, still shirtless, clenching and unclenching hands like he's not quite sure what to do with them.
"It should've been me," he rumbles, but his voice doesn't stay low for long, gradually turning more and more desperate. "She didn't deserve to go, she - she was so beautiful, and so kind, and she could've found another husband. Somebody her folks would just be tickled fucking shitless to have. They'd love him. They'd do Thanksgiving and Christmas and Easter and nobody would miss me but her and the baby, but that'd be okay." A cough. "She should never have married me. She deserved better."
You is the implication here, because isn't that how it's supposed to work? You marry the bff with the steady job, you buy a house, you get a dog, that's how it is. Not for her though, because she married some loser and now she's dead.
"I can't go back to the house."
Jfc he didn't ask for the Christmas Special Jack. No I'm kidding laughs
"Unhunh. As your unpaid therapist —I'll be billing you later, by the way— yeah, you are a total piece of shit. You didn't desrve her," He intones in his clipped voice, always educated and sounding like he has a prick reply for everything (well, not everything, but the range is close). He isn't going to mince words with Jack. The guy is scum; a guilt complex doesn't change that. Snapping the first aid kit shut he sets it aside and stares at nothing for a beat.
You know you're hitting Care Bear territory when you consider the moment too low to absolutely destroy a guy. Or maybe it's just that he doesn't want to get into it. Other people lash out. Tony just self-destructs. A drink, a cardiac arrest and a cute EMT is about all he wants right now. But that's not happening with Jack. Not starting this sober anyway. So: "—But she liked trash. People she could fix. People who didn't play by the rules. If you think for one second I didn't tell her to leave you an hundred times over you do more coke than I thought."
His hands lock together and he lets them hang loosely in a knot, elbows resting on his knees. "She wanted to be there with you. Every day." It'd be touching if there wasn't some kind of "fuck you" insinuated in the way he said it.
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Which is in no way enough to make up for all the complete garbage he is, or anywhere near enough to impress someone who's seen enough of his bad sides as Tony has, but it's his daughter, and he won't let anybody think he didn't love her enough to be - not a good man, but better than before, if only by a little. Again, in an almost unconscious little tic, he rakes his fingers through his hair.
"You know I almost killed a guy for her - I mean, not the guy I actually killed today, but some other guy. Trucker slapped her ass in a diner and I brained him with a coffee mug. This was before we were dating, by the way, and I thought, well shit, fucked that up, now she's scared, but she wasn't. Even when I kept losing my fucking mind whenever somebody crossed us. Some creep followed her out of a bar and I kicked the shit out of him for trying to touch her - some chick told her she was a trashy biker bitch and I threw her down a flight of stairs. When we found the house, the neighbor told her he and the neighborhood watch were concerned about 'people like us' moving in, and if we didn't behave ourselves, there'd be trouble. It made her cry. I killed his dog and left it on his porch."
A pause. He doesn't know why he's saying this - is it supposed to help?
"Y'know, I think she liked it. That I was crazy." Is it supposed to be reassuring Tony on why she picked Jack over him? "She didn't want me to get violent with anybody, but she liked that I would - knew I'd do anything for her."
So maybe Tony didn't lose by virtue of not being good enough - maybe Jack was just sick in a kind of heartwarming way.
When you only have narcissism syndrome and start wondering if your bff had Stockholm's
"And you don't think maybe that has something to do with why you're here?" His clasped hands tighten, knuckles turning white. Would do anything? "Because you couldn't control yourself. Grow up. Be responsible. Sometimes the hardest thing you have to do is tell the person you love no. Instead you created some psychotic fantasy where it was you and her against the world?"
Maybe he sounds a little bitter, a lot angry. Gives the sense there's some history here and Jack's edged on a land mine he doesn't want to detonate. Standing up his fists clench at his sides. "You better take a good look in the mirror. Because this crap? Is exactly what she didn't want. And your selfish ass got her killed with it. 100% on you, Jack."
this entire tag is great but the fucking gif killed me
And Jack genuinely believes what he's saying - thinks that love means never telling someone no, even if they ask for the impossible. You give them what they want, you don't hit them, and you protect them, and that's what love is. Sofia never asked for more than he could give, never wanted him to act out like he did, but it showed her how much he loved her, right? There was nothing wrong with burying his face in her shoulder and saying I'll do anything, just don't leave me. Please. Don't ever leave me. He was alright with being her dog just as long as she was there.
He turns, sets the small of his back into the edge of Tony's counter, and scrubs away the tear tracks. Tony is making this easier, ironically - he knows how to feel anger better than he'll ever know how to feel grief.
"You know I actually felt bad for you, and her parents, and her friends? But you never helped us. You just told her how stupid she was for being with me. Her goddamn parents cut her off after we got married, didja hear about that? They weren't even around for the baby's birthday parties. My little girl didn't even know her grandparents until yesterday."
This is probably going to get his ass kicked and thrown out, but he doesn't care. There's been things unsaid between them for Sofia's sake for years, and now they're going to get all of it out of it kills one of them.
"You were the best, though. You still treated her like a human being, not trailer trash. You did the best you could, and I respect that." A beat. "But she was happy. My angel was happy."
He doesn't wait for a reply.
"Tell me how you met. Why were you on that bridge, Tony?"
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And maybe that's the crux of everything. Jack never earned anything. Tony? Worked hard to get Sofia's parents' trust. Hell he even tried to make nice with her sister. Jack? Just waltzed up and expected everyone to love him. It's a repeating trend again and again and Tony's got no patience for it. You don't start off deserving to be loved; you have to prove it. Again and again and again.
"We're talking about you Jack. Did you ever even once think about giving her a normal life—?"
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This isn't the cute meeting story they've given out before, because her wanting to make people look better than they actually were seems to have been a pattern - it isn't oh, I had too many groceries and Jack was sweet enough to help. Jack tuts, leans further back into the counter.
"I got in the way. Got the fuck beat out of me. When the cops came, she hid my knife and covered for me. When she showed up at the hospital, I told her to go away. 'Get the fuck out of here, you think I'm some kinda great guy? You think I'm your boyfriend now? Are you stupid?' And you know what she says?"
Jack sets a hand on his hip and cocks it, jabbing a finger like she did whenever she was telling someone off.
"'Shut the hell up and eat your sandwich.' And she threw a hot ham-and-cheese at my head." His pose goes back to normal, arms crossed tenderly over his chest. "Hell of a woman. So if you guys thought I got her drunk and seduced her or something, sorry to say it, but she chased me."
For weeks. Made sure he didn't die of infection. Made sure he'd eaten. Found out he lived in his car and brought him blankets. Little shit that Jack assumes Tony would never understand the importance of, given he also assumes that Tony's childhood was decent, stuff that he whined and whined about but never turned down. What's a good way to say nobody ever cared about me before and not sound ridiculous and pathetic? The first time she kissed me was after I told her she made me want to stay alive?
He wishes he had his jacket back.
"She wasn't a kid, Tony." Maybe saying his name will help. Maybe it'll just piss him off. When he'd said do you want to talk about it, Jack hadn't expected it to actually help. He's not any less miserable or empty, but at least he's found his footing again, and now he holds his head up and speaks surely. "I was a pretty goddamn bad decision, but you know what? I think she was kinda glad I let her make it by herself."
Now that is a jab. Sorry, pal.
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Apparently they're having it out and now it's Tony's turn to pace. Angry, tight back and forths from the couch to the front door that hint at something wild every time he turns. It's not that he thinks there's any point to this. In Jack's eyes he'll never have been the "bad guy". There'll always be an excuse for why it was anyone's fault, but his. Rip away one he'll just invent five more. This is just pointless rhetoric. But Tony's hurt and he's angry and Jack keeps piling on all these criminal charges like he's the underdog in Miss America pageant. Maybe he might not be the cutest thug on the stage, but he's got a "great personality", folks. Because Tony for certain wants to know this is the type of monster his best friend chose: a man who should be behind bars making license plates, not wandering the streets.
"When her grandpa was dying of cancer? Where were you? Taking her out to parties? I sat in his hospice room every Monday for months. Had a full ride to Yale, but she needed someone to help her get out of that house and independent. So I went local. You made a few choices not to break the law and you think that's comparable?" His hands open, clench, open again, close again. He locks them behind his back, a trick to hide weakness he learned in private school. Always keep that composure. Let them see you're emotionally unraveling and you're an animal.
"Maybe being with you made her happy, but neither of you ever gave a damn about how it hurt the rest of us." He comes to an abrupt stop and that's it, isn't it. He can still remember the arguments. About the drugs, about the drinking, about shady parties and Jack's even shadier friends. Sofia always laughing him off. Giving him Looks to keep him from riding Jack too much about shaping up. It was just one neverending Lover's Lane for them. Jack keeps harping on how it was Sofia's choice, but he just doesn't get it.
Sofia never did either, always telling him he should cut his parents off. Stop answering their calls, walk away, leave 'em. That's not how it works. People don't just exist in a vacuum. Your actions have effects on everyone around you. And sometimes, to protect those people, do right by them, you have to go with the choices you might not want. Not something Jack could ever understand, Tony is sure. That's not the "fun" option.
He looks away. Fun's over. He's not doing this with Jack. Things are...what they are. As such— "You can stay until the end of the week. I've got a deadline to meet. Ghostwriting Kelly getting her first period; you'll hardly see me." Jack can get on his feet. Sort out his shit.
But then Tony wants him gone.
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He almost thinks of something other than himself. But he doesn't. His eyes flick up as he haltingly pulls his jacket back on, the right sleeve crooked and awkward.
"Thanks, but I have shit to do." He's exhausted and dirty and has a hell of a walk back to their crummy little house, but his welcome feels worn out already. He'll... manage. "I'm leaving town. Tonight. Her folks made sure to let me know I'm not invited to the funeral."
You'll just upset everyone. And they're right. He can at least do them this much of a kindness.
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"You know where the door is." He doesn't even look at Jack.