Rex, ignoring my declaration over Damon's feelings for him because he's still a little emotionally constipated, asks, "So what is this thing with Roth? Is it sex? Is it romantic? Both? More?"
I consider my answer, finding no easy way to describe what Jack means to me at this point. "I think what we are is the very definition of ‘it's complicated.’"
"Then uncomplicate it," Rex offers congenially, like it's really that simple.
"This isn't just about me and my shit self-esteem, though." I huff frustratedly. "There are genuine reasons, good reasons, why nothing between us will ever work. Especially now his brother is back. He's not going to be in a good place until we find Dan and help him."
It's probably stupid to be thinking about the status of my relationship with Jack when he has so much else to deal with right now. I can't expect him to care about slapping a label on what we are to each other. It doesn't matter, not in the grand scheme of things at least.
Rex doesn't seem to agree. He scowls at me like he can hear my internal monologue and thinks it's a load of bollocks. "Nah, nah, mate. You're overcomplicating it again. Just answer the three basic questions." He holds up three fingers and folds each of them down as he goes. "Do you want him more than anything or anyone else? Doeshewant you more than anything or anyone else? And the big one, are you willing to fight to keep each other, no matter what, even when it's hard, even with all the reasons why not?"
My insecurities flare up like a rash, itchy on the underside of my skin and impossible to ignore. "What if he doesn't want me like that? What if after the way he grew up, he's notcapableof wanting a relationship like that?"
It feels strange to think of it that way, like I'm dehumanizing Jack. But the truth is, he grew up so differently from me, from anyone. The only romantic relationships he's had experience with have been faked for a mission where he had to pretend to be someone else. How can he know what he wants when he hasn't had the freedom to believe that anything other than the life they gave him was even a possibility?
"Then you get over it and move on." Rex cuts through my thoughts with the verbal equivalent of a blade. "Straight up facts, Leo. You can't force what isn't there."
"What if we do try to make it work, and we fail big-time?" That thought scares me more than I can express without sounding like a lunatic. After having come so close to losing Jack physically, my nerves are frayed. It's difficult to be brave when the fear is so fresh.
"As long as neither of you ends up dead, you get over it, and you move on," Rex says, blunt as hell. "Next stupid question, please."
A spark of anger ignites in me. "Could you get over it and move on if things went bad between you and Damon?"
But Rex surprises me by answering with a sombre, "Yes. If I had no other choice, I'd have to. But luckily for me, Damon is a stubborn bastard, like I said, and there's no way he'd ever give up on me." He sounds so sure, I'm almost jealous of how easily he expresses belief in his and Damon's relationship. "It's just not in him to stop fighting for the things he thinks matter; you know that."
I do know that.
"I think I'm scared, Rex," I admit, the words like glass slicing away at my tongue. "I hate feeling like a coward about this, but I can't help it."
"Yeah, I get it. But I can't tell you what the right choice is, Leo. This isn't some movie where no mistake is big enough it can't be fixed. You could hurt him. He could break you. That's always gonna be a possibility. Start by answering the three questions. Go from there. That's all I can tell you with absolute certainty."
I feel a smile prick at one corner of my mouth at the evasiveness in his voice. "Are you avoiding having to say, ‘relationships are about taking a leap of faith’?"
Rex gives me a dry look although he sounds disgusted when he says, "With every fibre of my being, yes."
"Good, because that would have sounded crap, and I would have laughed at you."
"You look like you could use a laugh, mate. Or a nap."
"Are you saying I look like shit?"
"I'm heavily implying it."
Rex is protected from whatever my stellar comeback was about to be when another injured agent gets wheeled in, and he has to jump back into doctor mode. He leaves me with a slap to my shoulder, which is the most physical intimacy Rex usually doles out in public unless he's treating someone medically. I must look worse than I think I do.
As much as I'd like to shower and get changed, the thought of leaving Jack behind is one every part of my mind rebels against. I can't let him wake up here alone, not after what he's been through. His head is going to be a mess already without the added stress of waking up in medical without any familiar faces he can trust to tell him the truth about what's going on.
I settle back in my seat, mentally preparing for the long haul because unless someone physically removes me from this room, I'm staying.
Time drags on, and it's almost half a day later when Jack finally begins stirring in his medical bed, by which time I'm all but napping in the uncomfortable chair Rex gave me to aid in my sitting vigil.
I'm careful not to touch him as he wakes and blearily darts his gaze around the room, not wanting to accidentally trigger some physical defensive instincts. His entire body tightens with painful speed once consciousness fully takes hold of him. It isn't until Jack clocks me that he begins to calm down, uncoiling slowly.
Once I feel safe enough to reach for him, I take his hand in mine and thread our fingers together, scooting my chair closer to the bed so I'm able to rest both arms on the mattress and lean forward, allowing him to see me better.
Jack squeezes my hand reflexively. His grip is strong, which feels somehow reassuring to me.
"Hey, babe," I murmur, keeping my voice low and steady, hoping to further ground him and not incite any negative reactions that might cause Jack to accidentally hurt himself further.
