Chapter Text
Jax hasn’t slept.
Still.
At this point, it’s not even a decision.
It’s just… how things are.
He sits on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might give him answers.
It doesn’t.
Nothing here ever does.
—Don’t sleep —he mutters.
Out of habit.
Not even thinking about it anymore.
Because every time he gets close—
there’s that feeling.
That drop.
Like missing a step in the dark.
Like something is waiting on the other side of it.
So yeah.
No thanks.
There’s a knock.
Jax doesn’t move.
—Go away.
The door opens anyway.
—Ah—! Good, you’re awake —says Kinger.
Jax groans.
—You say that like it’s a rare event.
Kinger steps inside, glancing around the dark room.
He doesn’t seem as jittery as usual.
Still a little twitchy, sure.
But… quieter.
Focused.
—It is, actually —he says—. Not the being awake part. The… staying.
Jax rolls his eyes.
—Congrats, you’ve lost me already.
Kinger hums, like he expected that.
Then he closes the door behind him.
Gently.
The room stays dark.
—You prefer it like this, don’t you? —Kinger says.
—What, the depressing void aesthetic? Yeah, it’s my brand.
—No —he shakes his head slightly—. Fewer reflections.
Jax pauses.
Just a fraction.
—You think too much.
—Sometimes —Kinger agrees easily—. But not right now.
That’s new.
Jax studies him for a second.
Something’s… off.
Not wrong.
Just… different.
—Did you need something, or are you just haunting people’s rooms now?
Kinger walks a little closer, stopping a few steps away.
Not crowding.
—You ran earlier.
—Wow. Seriously? I didn't realize.
—And you haven’t slept.
—Join the club.
Kinger tilts his head.
—There isn’t one.
Jax snorts.
—There should be.
Silence.
Kinger looks at him for a long moment.
Not in his usual scattered way.
Something steadier.
—You’re afraid —he says.
Jax laughs immediately.
—Oh my god, not you too.
—Not of us.
—Wow, even better.
—Of what happens when you stop.
That—
lands.
---
Jax’s smile tightens.
—You rehearsing this, or…?
Kinger doesn’t react to the deflection.
—When things go quiet —he continues—
—your mind gets louder.
Jax looks away.
—And there are things there you don’t want to look at.
—Yeah, that’s called being normal.
—No —Kinger says softly—. That’s called being overwhelmed.
Silence.
Jax scoffs.
—You’re really committed to this whole “wise old man” thing, huh?
—Only when it’s needed.
Jax almost snaps back—
but something in his chest feels… off.
—You don’t get it —he mutters.
—Then help me understand.
He hates that answer.
—There’s nothing to understand.
—Then why avoid it?
—Because I want to.
—That’s not a reason.
Jax exhales sharply.
—Can you stop doing that?
—Doing what?
—Talking like everything has some deep meaning.
—Everything doesn’t.
A pause.
—But this does.
Silence stretches.
Jax’s fingers twitch against his arm.
—If I fall asleep —he says finally, voice lower—
—I don’t know if I come back the same.
There it is.
Again.
But this time it sounds… smaller.
Kinger doesn’t laugh.
Doesn’t dismiss it.
—That’s a reasonable fear.
Jax blinks. —…what?
—You’ve seen what happens to people here —Kinger says—. Of course you’d be cautious.
No “you’re overreacting.”
No “that’s silly.”
Just…
acceptance.
Jax doesn’t know what to do with that.
—But —Kinger adds gently—
—never resting has consequences too.
—Yeah? Like what?
—You start to lose track of what’s real.
Jax lets out a weak laugh.
—Pretty sure we’re past that point.
—More than usual.
That hits closer than he wants.
—You become sharper —Kinger continues—. Harsher. You push others away faster than they can leave.
Jax goes still.
—It feels safer that way —he adds.
Silence.
—You done? —Jax mutters.
—Not yet.
Of course not.
Kinger steps a little closer.
Still not touching.
Just… present.
—You don’t have to prove anything right now.
—Not proving anything.
—Then stop fighting something that hasn’t happened yet.
Jax shakes his head.
—You don’t know that.
—No —Kinger agrees—. I don’t.
A pause.
—But I can stay.
Jax looks at him.
Properly this time.
—…what?
—If something happens —Kinger says—
—you won’t be alone when it does.
Simple.
Jax’s throat feels tight.
—That’s… not how this works.
—It can be.
—No, it—
He stops.
Because he doesn’t actually know.
Silence settles again.
But it’s not as heavy now.
—You can sit —Kinger adds—. You don’t have to sleep.
Jax hesitates.
—And if you do —he continues, softer—
—I’ll make sure you wake up.
There’s something about the way he says it.
Not dramatic.
Not exaggerated.
Just… certain.
Jax huffs.
—You’re weird.
—I’ve been told.
A pause.
—…stay, then.
It slips out.
Quiet.
Kinger nods.
—Of course.
He settles nearby, keeping a bit of distance.
Respectful.
The room stays dark.
Jax leans back slightly.
Still tense.
But less.
His eyes close—
just for a second.
Nothing grabs him.
His breathing slows.
—Still here —Kinger murmurs.
Jax doesn’t answer.
But he doesn’t open his eyes either.
And for once,
the dark doesn’t feel like something waiting to take him—
just
somewhere he can rest.