log: Jack and Phil Who: Jack Murdock and Philip McCoy What: Jack goes to visit Phil. And... they argue. Phil's still mad that Jack didn't trust him on the whole "Something ain't right with Pete!" and Jack's mad that Phil is being a jerk. When: Something shortly after they came back... so either Wednesday or Thursday? Sure. Where: MacTaggart. Warnings: Language.
There was chaos. Now there isn't chaos.
Turns out, Pete was affected by some kind of nanovirus, along with a group of other people, and he went nuts. Evil-nuts. And all this shit went down with them and ... it's over. That's the important part. It's over, and somewhere in all of the ensuing insanity, while everyone was gone, Jack was healed by Duckie Worthington. Just like that. Just like that. Jack's not actually too comfortable with that, like he'll break if he steps the wrong way, or everything will revert at midnight. But, midnight came and went, and then everyone came home... and it's starting to settle down again. Misunderstandings all around. Ho ho, isn't it funny.
No. It's not funny.
Jack's body may be healed but his heart is still broken. All of these misunderstandings led to a fight. It's over, but Phil and Jack are still apart. People are still recovering from damage done and secrets spilled and Phil and Jack are no exception. Happy to be out of pain, Jack walks Elizabeth alone. Thinks about this... thinks maybe things can be fixed. Maybe. Things weren't all that bad to begin with... so... hn. Jack's not sure. He just knows he has to try something.
He lets Elizabeth take up his whole bed before he leaves, heads to Phil's building, his room. He doesn't think Pete is in there right now. No. Doesn't hear his heartbeat. Fuck. If he'd heard Pete he just would have turned around and left. That would have been easier. He needs to talk to Pete, too, but that will be a disaster. Predictable, though. With Phil... who knows. Jack likes to think Phil is predictable, but... not really. Not in a situation like this.
He approaches Phil's door, rests a hand against it. Closes his eyes and considers knocking.
Phil's heart is racing when Jack approaches. It slows to a normal pace. Does he know Jack is out there? There's some sound in the room, quick moving and straightening up. Phil sits on the edge of his bed and waits.
He wants to see Jack. He misses Jack. He called things off with him to protect him from Pete. That sounds like a selfless, beautiful thing to do, Philip! That's not completely true, though. He was pretty mad about the situation with Pete. Phil didn't understand why Jack couldn't just trust him on this, couldn't understand Pete the way he does. Phil is very touchy on the subject of his brother. Apparently so touchy that he'd make one of the best things that's ever happened to him go away.
Jack doesn't knock, but he calls through the door. Not comfortable just ... entering. "Phil. Phil, it's Jackie..."
"Yeah I know. Come in." Phil is nervous and embarrassed, but he can't tell him to go away. Or maybe he should, "Make it quick, I'm getting ready to leave."
Jack hesitates, and then he carefully steps in. Phil's being brusque. This can't end well. He presses his lips together and watches the floor. "Hi." He's not limping. He's not limping, and when he waves, it's with an uninjured right hand.
"Hey, did you go see Duckie?" Phil likes the girl, he grew up around her. Plus she's got healing blood, where can you go wrong with that? "She's sweet, ain't she?"
"Yeah, I finally ... yeah, I saw her." Jack looks down at his hand. The evidence is gone. The bruise on his jaw is gone. He's feeling good, physically, for the first time in weeks. "She's sweet, yeah..." They're both avoiding the great big massive fucking elephant in the room. Phil's no longer his boyfriend. They've broken up. Phil chose Pete. Of course he did. Jack was insensitive and didn't understand, but Jack's not going to sit back and just.. blame himself. He has a right to be upset about how it was all handled.
"So, uh. Pretty... uh. Pretty weird. What happened. I heard."
Phil isn't even looking at Jack. He's looking down at his bare feet. He feels the urge to cover them up. Phil hops up, mere inches from Jack when he starts digging in his dresser for socks. "Right. Weird."
And Jack? Jack takes a step back. He doesn't do the thing that he normally does when Phil comes in and gets close. Jack normally touches him, reaches out to touch his shoulder, his back, gives a soothing rub. But now, he doesn't. He gives Phil his space. He's still hurt by something Phil said. "Yeah. So... it wasn't you," he says. "It was Pete... and the... whatever it was, affecting him."
Phil gives Jack a hateful glance. "Yeah, which is what I told you. Remember? I'm almost sure I said something to that effect." You jackass. Phil finds a pair of socks and takes a seat back on his bed. He busies himself with putting them on.
"Yeah... yeah, I know," Jack mutters. What the fuck, Phil? Jack's trying to be shamefaced and understanding here. Oh. Fuck. Is he crawling back? Is that what he's doing? Phil breaks up with him and Jack crawls after him begging for him to reconsider? Is that what this is? "You said a lot of things."
Phil realizes a sock is hanging out of the drawer he was just digging through. He gets up quickly, tucking the sock back in and slamming the drawer. "You know. Good." He stands there, so close to Jack. Ah, but so far, right? "Did you need something from me? Did you leave something of yours here?" Phil bites his lip, "Probably not, you don't come in here very often."
"I'm not welcome in here very often," Jack counters. Don't make it sound like it's Jack's fault, Phil. "I wanted to talk to you. I wanted----" What. He wants to fix things! God damn it, he wants to fix things, but Phil is pushing buttons, making Jack defensive. He's really thinking now, about what Phil said. About the things Phil does. About how Jack is ... Jack's always the one to accept everything, to be so understanding for Phil's sake.
"Who says that? I think you just assume such a thing. You shouldn't assume." Phil sighs, trying to stay calm. But he's starting to get mad! "Good thing you were healed, by the way. Seems like something is always wrong with you lately." Or like, always. "I don't want to talk. We always talk. I don't want to talk about my feelings or ..." He flexes his fingers, frustrated and unable to express it.
Jack jerks back. He'd been about to touch him. "I'm not welcome in your room," he snaps. "Because Pete is in here. You aren't comfortable being with me around Pete. There is me, and then there's Pete. There's no place where that blends. You've drawn a fucking line between us. No. No, Phil. You've drawn a line between me and you ... and everyone else. There's----there was us." Oh, God. "There was us, and then there was everyone else. And-----" He sputters a little, like he can't wrap his head around this. "And there's always something wrong with me lately?"
"Jack, you knew that. You knew it was me and my family. Before you, I was always with them. Pete's everything to me. I don't think you get that." Pete's his brother, his best friend, and apparently, still his scapegoat. "Yeah! There's always something wrong! Dave's the Hulk, whoopdy do, Ok? Peter didn't want you using the billy club, then you don't use it. Why is everything so hard for you?" Phil flexes his fingers again, this time raising them so they're near his chest. Like he might reach up and strangle Jack.
Jack's jaw drops a little, and he stares at him. "I----you..." He can't even formulate a response to that. How can he formulate a response to that? "Why is letting me speak to you in public so hard for you? I'd rather have a whole lot of shit that I deal with and then gradually get over instead of one great big fucking issue that I can't get over!
"And there is a huge difference between you and your family and me somehow fitting into your family! I'm not tearing you away from your family, Phil! I don't want to replace them! I want to be a part of your life and your family and I want to be able to be in your room with you while Pete's here. This isn't a case of us and them, Phil!"
"Why do you want to be in here with Pete and I so badly? Get the hint, man. Pete punched you in the jaw for me." Sure. He was evil, but it was kind of like being drunk, right?
Jack looks nothing short of horrified. "Because I'm in love with you, you son of a bitch! Because I don't want to be this ... sheltered little fucking corner of your life that you're ashamed of! Because I want what you say to me be part of the rest of your life. I'm not a fucking secret, I'm not----" He's starting to lose it. Man up, Jack. Don't cry over this. He clenches his fists, shifts his weight. That really hurt. ...Get the hint. Get the hint. "Is it so wrong to want to not be a separate part of your existence? Maybe Pete wouldn't have punched me in the fucking jaw if you didn't keep us in different compartments!"
"Get this, you'll love this." Phil is infuriated at this point. He points two fingers at Jack, hands moving as much as they would be if he were signing all of this at Jack, "I have this crazy feeling that Pete and my Pop are worried you're going to hurt me. Just be really glad Pop didn't get the truth about the bruise you gave me on my jaw, buddy. Pete did, maybe it sat in the back of his brain for a bit, maybe that's why he did it to you." Phil's hand shoots out and pokes Jack in the side of the head, hard. "That's why I'm keeping you in different compartments."
Jack reflexively smacks Phil's hand away after the poke, and then he recoils, jerking his hands back. Oh, God. Oh, God. He's violent. He can't control it sometimes. His eyes are wide and he looks stunned with himself. No words come out.
"Yeah. See." Ah, point made. Game set match.
"Is th----" Jack runs a hand down his face, grimacing. Fuck. Fuck. "I thought that we----I thought we were okay with... this, I thought----"
Phil shrugs, he's playing the part of the asshole really well tonight. Maybe Jack can hear something in his chest, something that betrays him. "You thought?"
"I said I'd never hit you again," Jack whispers.
"You can say things you don't mean, Jack." Phil does it all the time.
Jack's heart is pounding so hard in his chest he feels a little faint. "Phil!" He can't make excuses for this. He can't turn this on Phil. All he can do is ask that Phil trust him, and that's not going to go that far. Being kept away from everyone because he's abusive. That hurts. That scares him. "... Is that true? The... different compartments, because..."
"It's a whole combination of things, Jackie." Ah, the nickname feels a little weird here. "Not just physically hurt, gee, it's not like I'm a weakling or something..." He can take a hit, you've got to admit to that. "This is my first relationship and it's kind of a big deal. The McCoys are very close." Phil feels stupid for explaining all of this right now. "Look, I don't know what's going to happen. Just give me some space."
The McCoys are very close. Yeah? So? Jack rakes his hands back through his hair. "I'll give you space," he mumbles. "I'll give you your fucking space." Phil's said some really awful things and Jack doesn't feel like getting down on his knees and begging him. Jack's not faultless. He said nasty things, too, and he knows it. Scowling, he slams his shoulder into Phil's as he brushes past him on his way out. Yeah. It's on purpose.
"OH! Real mature, Murdock." How can you go from such gentle kisses to such petty shit, Murdock? Erm. Man up, Philip.
"Shut the fuck up, McCoy. I'm giving you what you want." Jack tosses the door open and rounds back on him. "I wanted to work things out with you. I was going to get down on my fucking knees and beg for you to forgive me. I'm better than that. I don't need that. I don't need you. I don't n----" He sways a little, like saying that is a punch in the gut. He has to grit his teeth and really force himself to say it. "I don't need you. I'm not your secret, I live in the same space as your family----you can't keep me wherever it's convenient for you and then not change anything else. And I'm sorry about what I said about Pete. I don't understand. I don't fucking understand because you won't let me into that part of your life. I don't get any of that. So... just..." He's talking too much. He's rambling to avoid closing the door. Rambling because he hopes Phil will shut him up. But eventually he runs out of steam and ... with an unfinished sentence, slams the door.
Phil yanks the door back open. It's his door, Jack shouldn't be able to close it unless Phil allows him to! Territorial, much? The manipulative side of Phil comes out-- or so it appears. "You don't need me?" He echoes this, face blank, voice even blanker. Don't listen to his heart, Jackie, because he's not.
Jack doesn't have an option of whether or not he can listen. He has to listen to Phil's heart. He looks at Phil carefully. "Not like this," he says softly. "You said you couldn't do this. I can't do it like this. I don't ... no. No, Phil. I can live without you." Does he want to? No. He doesn't. But can he? Yes.
That hurts. But if it's the truth, Phil can deal with it. "Go. Get out."
"I'm already out." And Jack's headed down the hall, glowering at the floor and refusing to look back. Thank God Phil can't hear him cry. ---He hopes so, anyway.
Phil slams his door shut and goes to take a nap. One that will hopefully last until tomorrow.