Chapter Text
Bar. Vodka. Fight. Rian. Home.
That's become his usual. Getting drunk three times a month, picking a fight with the tallest guy there, and finally calling Rian to pick him up. Right when the black eye from his last fight started to heal, he'd be hit with another. Of course, that was his own fault, and really, Rian wasn't the only one putting up with all his shit.
Like tonight. Instead of calling his friend, who was so close to pulling an "intervention", he mis clicks on Zack's contacts and doesn't realize until he's picked up.
"Hey, Jack." He's hopeful. In a sober state of mind, Jack would feel horrible for making Zack have to hope that his friend on the other line wasn't drunk, high, or overall in a shit mood.
'Course, he is intoxicated and couldn't care less. "Hiiii Zackyy!" He doesn't realize how loud he's being until a group of people walking into the bar shoot him a look.
He hears Zack sigh. "What bar are you at?"
Jack turns around, stumbling as he does so. "Can't.. mm, read it," he murmurs. The light of the bars sign is too bright to see. "The one.. downtown."
"There's like, three bars downtown Jack." He hears his friend getting up, and the sound of what he assumes to be keys shaking. "Ask someone around or something, I'm about to leave."
"Noo," Jack whines. "Meant to call Ri. You don't need to bother."
Zack is silent long enough for Jack to wonder if he's hung up or his phone died. "Uhuh. Well you called me, and Rian is busy right now, so figure out where you are."
"Can drive meself home." Jack starts walking towards his car, or where he thought his car was, when really he'd taken an Uber to the bar.
"No, you can't," Zack says firmly. Stay fuckin' put, okay? Is your Snap location on?"
"Ewie." Jack scrunches his nose. "Snapchat."
"Well, you've got it anyways." There's more incoherent murmuring from Zack. "Okay, I'm on my way. Can you sit outside the bar and wait for me?"
"Sounds good." Jack holds a thumbs up, then laughs to himself when he remembers Zack can't see him.
Zack hangs up shortly after and Jack stumbles back to the bar. Time passed more slowly when he was drunk, but it also seemed to skip segments, and in a second he was moving from a sitting position on the cement and into Zack's car.
"Hiya," he greets, leaning over to kiss Zack, but he's roughly pushed away.
"Don't kiss me when you're drunk," his friend spits, then turning his head towards Jack with a softer look. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you, Jay." He sighs, turning his eyes back towards the road and runs a hand through his hair. "What if don't call us one night, drive yourself home instead? What if you drink too much? Why are you drinking so much? Why won't you open up to me?" Tears fill his eyes, and he looks to Jack, but Jack's in a daze. "You can't even hear me, can you?"
"MMmmm," Jack groans. "Don't cry, Zacky." He lifts his thumb and starts to wipe the tears away, but Zack grabs his wrist.
"Don't. Just, I'll take you back to mine."
Jack hums, leaning against the leather seat. The lights of the city blinded him, but he couldn't look away. Maybe it's because he was drunk, or they really were that mesmerizing.
"Come on, buddy."
Zack barely manages to drag Jack into his house, sitting the other man on the guest bed and beginning to take his shoes off. When he tries to remove Jack's shirt, though, his friend moves away.
"You've got blood on it, I'll give you another when we're done."
Jack whines, but he's too drunk to remember why he doesn't want Zack to see him shirtless, and follows his instructions.
'Course, he remembers once the shirt is on the floor and Zack is frowning. "You said you stopped," he murmurs. He lifts Jack's hand, turning it over to see the marks down his forearm.
"It's cold," Jack groans and wraps his arms around himself. Zack sighs and hands him a hoodie. "Thank you Zacky."
"Go to sleep, Jay." Zack leans over and kisses Jack's forehead before walking towards the door. "I'll give you some advil in the morning." He shuts the light off and leaves.
~_~_~_~
The headache that hits him when he sits up the next day reminds him why he hates vodka so much. Well, that and the foul taste. Even though he drank far more often than he should, vodka usually being the source of what he used, he was horrible at throwing back shots.
There were two pills on the nightstand and a small cup of water, with a yellow post it note stuck to the lamp.
'I'm probably in the living room. If not, wait for me there. I want to talk to you.
-Zachary'
Jack smiles to himself at the use of Zack's full name. The little nerd always used Zachary. Responsible, formal, Jack loved it.
The fondness quickly leaves, though, when he comprehends the rest of the note. He wanted to talk? If Jack hadn't had one too many shots last night, he could've remembered what exactly there was to be talked about. Aside from his use of drinking as a coping mechanism, and it being used perhaps a bit too much. Zack didn't know how often it was though, at least not as much as Rian, and no one could get through to him, so why bother?
He slides out of the bed and swallows the pills quickly, hoping it'll take effect by the time light reaches his eyes. He really should've had some water before going to bed last night. He makes his way to the living room. As the note said, Zack is sitting there on the couch, watching a show Jack couldn't recognize with his usual odd and healthy meals.
"Mornin', Zee." Jack smiles and sits on the couch beside his- friend? They never had an official term. Fuck buddies was, technically, what they were, but add in a few 'I love yous' and hand holding; anything boyfriends would do minus the title boyfriends.
"Hey, Jack. How're you feeling?" His voice is soft, as it usually is, but more than Jack would like. He sets his plate of- whatever the hell it is- on the coffee table and wraps his arm around Jack's shoulders. He leans into the embrace, smiling against Zack's shoulder.
"Mmm, hungover as hell, but being around you makes it better." He looks up at Zack and kisses him softly.
The kiss doesn't last long though, even if Zack kisses back, he pulls away moments later. "We need to talk."
Here it comes. It could be a number of things, but Jack was scared for the worst; that Zack would tell him he wanted whatever they were to end. Or maybe that they had to be official or he'd leave. Perhaps he'd try and force him into some AA meetings, even though Jack was adamant he wasn't an alcoholic (he knows alcoholics always say that- but he was a self aware guy. Maybe not as bright as most, but he knew when something needed changing).
"What is it?"
"I'm not kicking you out or anything, relax," Zack starts. "You look like you're going to start crying, babe." He sets his hand on the side of Jack's face. "You got into a fight last night, and I had to change your shirt because there was blood on it."
Jack knows where this is going. His eyes widen, and his heart beat picks up. He doesn't have any words though, and Zack grimly finishes.
"I'm not angry, I just want to help. When did you start again?"
Jack swallows, looking away from Zack and taking a moment to think. "A few weeks ago. Right after the last time we fucked." At Zack's panicked look, he adds, "Not because we had sex! No, I didn't do anything I didn't want to. It was a few days after, when my mom called to tell me May's in the hospital again. I just-" he chokes on his words, wiping away the forming tears. He's not going to cry. He won't cry.
"Hey, stop doing that," Zack says firmly. "You all.. forcing it down. You never let yourself grieve these things, and then you drink or hurt yourself. You need to let yourself hurt."
"But it.. it sucks, Zee. Emotions suck. And I know it sounds like an edgy Tumblr sight but-"
"You're right, they do. You don't sound like an edgy kid."
"I just." Jack takes in a few breaths slowly, trying to ground himself. "Why let myself grieve it when it hurts so bad? It's better to force it down or else I'll be a mess all the time, when I can just have a few bad times."
"It isn't just a few bad times. I'm not saying you're an alcoholic, but you're getting to reckless with the drinking. You very well could be if you keep up at this rate. Hurting yourself isn't a few bad times. I know it sucks, but if you maybe talked to someone, a professional, they could give a few-"
"Zack," Jack whines. "You know I.. I'm fine with therapists- just. It won't work, not for me. I'm not gonna use any of that shit, I'm already taking meds. Isn't that enough?"
"You're drinking too often for those meds to work," Zack deadpans. "Besides, you can't always rely on just meds. Please, think about it. I don't expect you to make a decision, I just hate seeing you hurt."
Jack tries to offer a smile, to make the air of the situation lighter. "Okay, Zee, I'll think about it." He leans forward and kisses his cheek. "But in the meantime, will you hold me? I haven't had Zack cuddles in too long."
Zack laughs. His head going upwards and his chest pounding lightly. God, Jack loves the sound. "Yeah, alright. Come here you big teddy bear." He lays down on the couch, pulling Jack into his arms, and just as he'd said, Jack clings to him, enjoying the feeling of being held.
"I love you," he murmurs against Zack's chest.
Zack runs his hand through Jack's hair. It's slightly greasy, he probably hasn't showered in longer than he should, but he didn't mind. "I love you too."
~_~_~_~
Jack never really did think about it. He continued to lie, and tell Zack he was considering the idea, but he knew that it was out of the question.
He also hadn't told anyone he'd stopped taking his meds. They weren't working with the alcohol anyways, right? He'd looked it up, and alcohol made the symptoms worse when on anti depressants anyways, so why bother?
'Course, he realized the stupidity of that idea pretty early on, with the headaches, and how he'd broken his phone by throwing it against the wall. Not to mention how he couldn't get any fucking sleep. He hadn't thought that anti depressants could cause withdrawal, but he was proven wrong, as always.
The real tie breaker was when he snapped at Alex.
It's not like they never fought, because god damn did they fight. But they were usually calm whenever they did. Alex was a rather level headed person and Jack had known him so long he never got very angry at him. Of course there was their constant bickering and the joking anger, but this?
Alex had asked him if he'd go to a party that weekend, and despite him declining, he continued to pester. Yeah, it was annoying, but it didn't warrant Jack yelling at him.
It didn't take long for Alex to catch on after that.
"Jay, is something going on?" He asks calmly. He rests his hands on the island of Jack's kitchen. God, he hates that look, and the tone. Like he's a child that'll burst at any moment. He hates to admit that really, he does feel like yelling at any moment.
"N-no. I'm sorry, shouldn't have yelled. Just tired." He rests his head on the palms of hands, his elbows on the island. His fingers go through his hair and he stops himself from pulling at it.
"Listen, Zack talked to me. He didn't tell me anything private, he just.. The drinking with your meds, seriously isn't a good idea."
"I'm not taking my meds," Jack finally admits, meeting Alex's eyes. Bad idea, he realizes as he says it. Of course his stupid, impulsive self thought it'd be a good argument.
"Jack, what the hell?" He steps away from the island. "No wonder you're tired and irritable. That can seriously fuck you up."
"Yeah and I'm not already?" He laughs, but the movement makes him dizzy. He was going to stand, but any movement of his head makes him feel like falling to the floor.
"You should've at the very least asked your doctor about it. You're allowed to quit but, Jack." He sighs frustratedly, resting his elbows on the island and covering his eyes with his hands. "God, you worry me sick sometimes, you know that?"
"Then stop," Jack says through blurred vision. "Never told you to keep talkin to me, or give a shit."
"Can you just accept that I've been your friend since high school, and have every intention of putting up with you?" Alex barks, angrier than he wanted it to be, but it gets his point across. Because he is angry. Not entirely at Jack, but he can't hide his frustration.
"I'm sorry," Jack finally says after a moment of silence. "I just, you know I'm a mess 'Lex. Ri is sick of me calling every week for a ride home, you're getting frustrated and Zack will probably be next. I hate doing this to all of you."
"Then let us help. What's the worst that can happen?"
"It doesn't work," he states simply. "It doesn't work and I'm back where I started, maybe worse. And what then? I saw it with my siblings, it's going to happen to me- You try to get better, till it fucking kills you. It never works, not for long anyways. Give me a month or two of feeling okay at best, and then I'm standing on the ledge of a fucking bridge."
Oh, he really shouldn't have said that last part.
And he knows, the moment Alex's eyes widen. "You don't.. You haven't thought about doing that, right? About.. killing yourself?" He swallows, speaking cautiously. Of course, once they realize you want to kill yourself you're like a child. Can't be left alone, can't be trusted; just a ticking time bomb.
"God damn it, no! Or, yeah, but that was a few years ago. Once I started taking my meds and all, I mean I'm fine. I'm not about to shoot myself." He laughs, and it really isn't funny. Not to anyone but himself. All his problems seem funny, now that he thinks about it. He's a wreck and it's hilarious.
"Okay. But, tell me if that ever.. happens again, y'know? I won't lock you in a hospital or some shit, won't even talk to you about it if you don't want. But if I can be there, distract you or listen. I just can't lose you, Jack." Alex's voice breaks at the end, and Jack looks away. He can't stand it. Still sitting on the stool, with the suffocating tension. If he just hadn't snapped, hadn't opened up. That's what always happens; he tells someone what's wrong and it blows up in his face.
"Jack?" Alex asks after Jack's prolonged silence.
"Oh, right. Yeah. Promise."
Alex knows he's lying. He squints, but doesn't say anything.
"Alright bud. I've got to get back to Maverick. Lisa's out for the day. Call me, okay? Or I'll call you, whatever." Alex pats his friend's shoulders before grabbing his things.
"Aww, tell Mav I said hi. Give him an apple for me, huh?"
Alex chuckles. "Yeah yeah. See you later man."
Alex is out the door not a minute later after one last hug, and Jack is left to ignore the silence of his near vacant home.
~_~_~_~
It doesn't take long for him to be back at the bar. Eventually, he goes back to the safety of the dull yellow lights and the old brown wood. Eventually he's back to calling his friends late at night for rides home, being scolded for unhealthy coping mechanisms and ignoring every plea. Every time Zack tries to reinforce the option of some kind of therapist, some way out of what Jack is doing, he's met with a hungry kiss and a push towards the bed.
He's treading on thin ice, he knows that. But he doesn't seem to mind, because it only makes the self sabotaging part of his head more addicted to it.
Rian is getting ticked. Alex is out of town and Jack doesn't know how long he can continue to pull the whole "let's kiss and have sex instead of talking about the growing issue" card, so getting hammered at the bar doesn't seem to be an option. He was adamant on not using Ubers, having vowed to Rian after an argument years ago that he never would because trusting a stranger like that didn't sit right with him. Years later and he couldn't care less, but he wasn't breaking that three year long bet on the fact he couldn't go a week without a drink.
He'd just have to find something here, right?
Even with his phone playing Spotify in the background, his house was quiet. The longer he stood there, sober and thinking, the less easier it was to breathe.
But it was fine. He wasn't going to flip his shit because he was alone and couldn't fill it with a drink. Zack wouldn't return his calls and Alex told him he was taking care of the animals while Lisa was out. That usually took a good hour or two. He never understood how the other man could stand taking care of so many high-maintenance farm animals. The goats were cute and all, but Jack could hardly take care of himself.
He managed to find a half dranken bottle of Tequila. He didn't exactly like the option, but it seemed to always be the only one he had, so, he opened it up and poured himself a shot.
He knows he's drunk when he starts to laugh. When the walls become his biggest source of entertainment and he's doubling over in a haze because of nothing.
He almost stops there, because he's drunk. It's good enough, and he thinks he might gag if he had too many more shots, but decides why the fuck not? He was alone and clearly no one was going to answer, why not get hammered? What was there to lose when he clearly wasn't intoxicated enough to stop thinking.
He loses track of how many he has, but it can't be too many. Hopefully not enough to make him throw it back up, but close enough to that. He didn't want a single sober thought running through his head at that moment.
There's a few drunken conversations, only to himself of course. A bit of stumbling, Jack doesn't think much of it until he trips on his own feet and the bottle smashes on the floor and- Oh, he's on the floor too. So is his hand, with a glass shard gaping into it.
"Ouch," he murmurs, poking at it.
The rest of the bottle, broken and covered in the liquid, is sprawled on the floor. A few shards cut into his jeans.
He picks up a large one, staring at it.
What if.. what if he presses it into his chest-
"Jack, what the fuck!"
Jack looks up. He drops the large shard onto the floor, looking up at Zack. He's a deer in the headlights, caught staring far too adoringly at a broken piece of glass, with another stuck into his hand. Oh, god, he can feel part of it now. He needs more alcohol.
"I was knocking at your door for five minutes, and then I hear a crash and-" He breathes in, slowly, closing his eyes and counting. "Okay, where's your first aid kit?"
"No, no I'm okay-" Jack tries to slur out.
"Where is it?" Zack repeats, not taking Jack's shit.
Jack pouts. "Bathroom. Under sink." He blinks and his head is on the floor, and Zack is looking at the shard in his hand. He starts to grab things; bandages and peroxide, when Jack interrupts again.
"No, no you don't need to-"
"Would you stop?!" Zack yells. "For the love of god, I put up with it for so long. The constant deflections, the lies and the drunk texts. But I find you with a shard in your hand and another right in front of your chest and- I'm sick of this! Let us fucking help you, let me help you, for once, Jack." His voice turns to an uncomfortable softness when he speaks Jack's name, his eyes are desperate.
Jack obliges.
He doesn't feel the shard being removed from his hand- not much anyway. He does wince when the peroxide is poured over it, but after awhile his hand is carefully wrapped in a thick bandage.
"Come on, up," Zack directs sternly. "You're going to bed." There's no leeway in his voice, only demands. No room for small talk, or drunken banter. He's done.
Jack's stomach falls. It's whatever, right? Zack will be fine in the morning.
Not wanting to risk it, Jack slides into his bed without argument and sleeps.
~_~_~_~
The morning after an alcohol escapade is as it always is; horrible.
He stands, throws on some clean clothes, stares at the bandage, and leaves the room.
Zack is leaning over the kitchen island, head in his hands. He looks up when Jack walks in. "Good morning." His tone is professional, no kindness to it. Jack really fucked up.
"Hey, Zee," Jack starts slowly. "I, um, really need to apologize-"
Zack laughs, slamming a box of cereal on the counter. "I think you're way overdue for an apology." Aggressively, he pours the cereal into a glass bowl and pours milk in.
"You're right, and- Shit, you're so right. I need help, I should have listened to you, but I swear-"
"I'm done." Zack slides the cereal over to Jack. Breakfast. He made Jack breakfast, and starts putting away the ingredients as he ends what never began. "We, are done, Jack." He slams the cupboard shut and turns to look at his- ex? The ex that never was. "I put up with the commitment issues, because you know what? I get it. Relationships are scary, and you needed time. I put up with the messes because, people are messy. We're sticky and gross and I was okay! It's okay! But you- God, the drinking, the- the- Fuck, I'll put up with the drinking, if you accept that you need help! If you accept help! And maybe you really are sorry, maybe this is your breaking point, but it's far past mine. You don't get my help anymore, Barakat."
He breathes, deeply, but it's a quick breath to regain his composure. "I love you. I- I think I always will. At this point, I'm so fucking deeply in love with you, and I hate you for that. But I don't, I don't hate you. You're a mess and so am I, but baby, I can't put you back together. I tried and I guess that's on me. The rest is on you. You have to figure out your shit, without me."
Zack doesn't wait for a response. It's over. They're over.
The door slams shut.
~_~_~_~
"I'd wake up in your arms and I'd feel at ease..
it's gonna be a long night."
Alcoholic. That was one way to put it; one way to describe Jack that, honestly, he was becoming. And now that Zack, his whole word, was gone?
Rian had completely ignored him, and understandably- What Jack has been doing, Zack finally putting his foot down and leaving, Rian has every right to cease contact. But still, it only made it hurt more- knowing he'd hurt more than just the love of his life (which, he hadn't even been able to call Zack that until he'd left).
"I didn't mean.. to hurt anybody," he murmurs, his feet kicking at the rocks in the cement. He's just a drunk, grown man stumbling through the city, nothing unusual. Nobody stops to check if he's alright, or ask why he's still at the damned bridge.
It's not like Jack deserves it, anyways.
He barely manages to pull out his phone and type out the messages.
'i'mmf srry,' - sent
It doesn't take long after that for his phone to start ringing. He can't see straight, he should just jump. Fuck, why can't he fall? Why won't he let himself fall? He hurt Zack, and Rian and Alex, he was just some alcoholic adult with no place to go.
Why couldn't he jump off.
"Jack?" The panicked, clearly tired voice speaks over the phone.
"Mmm, howdy, 'Lex."
"This is Rian, asshole. You're drunk again, huh? Is that all? Just trying to scare the shit out of me so I'll care?"
The words sink in, and he stumbles backwards as if they'd physically injured him. His back is against the pole. "I can't do it," he murmurs.
"Can't do what?" Rian is near ready to hang up. Why does he still bother entertaining Jack?
"Can't.. I can't jump," he finally chokes out. "I'm sorry, I know- I know I keep hurting you guys, and I know it'd be better-"
"Jesus christ, where are you?"
"A bridge. Somewhere. Don't come, Ri, I promise I'll fix it-"
"Just shut up and wait. I'm on my way." The call hangs up and Jack drops his phone. Shit, he meant to let it hit the ground, but it falls off the bridge and into the water. Maybe it shouldn't just be his phone down there, maybe-
"Hey, Jack, come on." He's pulled from the ledge by the familiar strong grip of Rian. His friends face is cold and distant, and he doesn't say anything as they enter the car.
"Why didn't you let me fall?" He asks, his voice high pitched and confused.
"Because-" Rian groans, rubs his temples and continues driving. "You're right Jack, you're hurting everyone around you, but you think killing yourself is going to fix that? That's the very thing that is hurting us- You destroying yourself! Zack left, and yes, you're hurting, even more than before. But that's the whole fucking reason you should get help. I can't- I can't do this, with you, anymore. I'll help you get into rehab, but I am not picking you up from another bar, I can't answer your late night texts or pull you down from a bridge. I can't."
Jack, still coming down from the alcohol, hums, his jaw hanging open slightly, and his gaze dazed while he stares at Rian. But he understands- every word. Rian's right and, fuck, he's known all along. Why did it take getting this low for him to realize?
"Okay."
"Okay?" Rian asks, leaning forward and looking at Jack. "Okay, what? 'Okay, but I'm getting drunk tomorrow night.' 'Okay, but I'm still going to call you next time I can't get home.' 'Okay, I'm still going to kill myself'. What is it this time?"
Jack doesn't respond, Mom always told him actions speak louder than words, anyways. So when they're home, and Rian is angry as ever, Jack goes to the liquor cabinet.
"Seriously, Jack? You're already barely able to stand, after everything I just said-"
He pours the remaining alcohol into the sink. He cries, tries not to, but his chest hurts and- No, he's doing this.
For Zack.
It should really be for himself, he knows that. But he can't, not yet.
Rian doesn't speak. He watches, until every last bottle is emptied into the sink. And then, he helps Jack throw them away.
"Hey." Rian places a soft hand on Jack's shoulder once the emptied bottles are in the trash. That's all it takes, and Jack is crying. He's choking on his tears, wiping away his snot with his sleeves, gasping for breaths- and Rian pulls him into a hug too tight to pull away from. "Thank you," he whispers.
Jack doesn't remember the rest of the night.
~_~_~_~
It's two months later that Jack is sitting at his kitchen island, chewing away at the stale cereal while Alex is fawning over Lisa. The man was so in love with her it almost made Jack sick, but it was cute.
"Should I text him?" Jack asks after Alex finishes. He pushes the cereal away, half eaten. It's old and it reminds him too much of Zack.
Lucky Charms, the very thing he'd made when Jack woke up hungover, the same day Zack left. Every time they went shopping, Zack would buy something disturbingly healthy and Jack would go straight to the Lucky Charms, just to tease him.
"You need to try them, Zee! It's like, detrimental to our relationship!"
"Do you even know what detrimental means? Besides, we- we're in a relationship?"
"I- Uh, er- Hah, you're right, we aren't. Sorry. And hey! Of course I know what it means!"
"Zack?"
"Yeah."
Alex hums, leaning back on his feet and looks at the ceiling in thought. "It's up to you, but don't be surprised if he doesn't answer. He's trying to move on, you know. And you're doing better, don't get me wrong, I'm glad. But are you sure getting in contact with him is what's best for both of you?"
"I need to try," Jack answers after taking in Alex's response. "At the very least, apologize, show him that I mean it this time, because all my other ones were just to get him to lay off."
Sighing, Alex nods. "You decide, man."
Once Alex leaves, Jack grabs his phone and goes to the bottom of his messages. It hurts knowing his contact is all the way down there, where he never thought it'd be.
'Hey, I know it's been awhile. I know you left for a reason, but can we talk?' - sent
~_~_~_~
He's shaking.
When he lifts his hand, he can see his fingers shaking. He shifts his feet, looking around and waiting. Is he gonna come? Was he blown off? He wouldn't be surprised- Wouldn't blame Zack, either, Jack didn't want to show at all.
And then he's there.
"Hey, Z- Hi." He can't, can't formulate his name, and did he even have the privilege of calling him Zee anymore?
"Hi." His face is neutral. Is he angry? Excited? Nervous? Shit, did he hate Jack? Probably, after what he did-
"So, are you going to speak? Because I've got little to say to you," Zack speaks, every word cutting deeper. Jack swallows and reminds himself honestly, he deserves it.
"Yeah- yeah um. Okay, I'm sorry, and that's- that's. I hurt you, right? I drank too much and I was too scared to commit to- to us. You stuck with me for so long, you tried so hard to help but I never listened. That's- everything that happened, is on me. I was- am? An asshole. I'm sober now, two months." He smiles up at Zack, but it's shy and awkward. "That isn't- I'm not trying to ask for you back, because we were never official and- Again, my fault. I love you, Zack, I really fucking do, and I wish I did things differently. I wish I let all of you help, but we can't change the past, I guess. I'm a better guy and I just.. wanted to let you know, that I'm sorry."
Zack nods, taking it all in. He's silent for longer than Jack likes, but he doesn't push it; he doesn't get much of a say in this situation.
"Thank you," Zack starts, catching Jack off guard. "I'm still mad, I'm still hurt, but. It's good to see you sober, Jay." His smile is pained, Jack can see every crease and forced lift in his eyes and mouth. It hurts Jack too, forcing a smile in return. "And I love you, too. I wish it was that easy. Still loving someone. That should be enough, right? If we both still love each other, why can't we be together?"
Zack takes a moment to go on, looking at the gray sky before turning to Jack. "But it isn't. I can't redo things with you. I almost tried, just a month after I left- Hell, I tried a week after, to message you. But Rian told me how you signed into a month long program and.. And I couldn't do that to you. You're getting better and I'm moving on, and Jack, I still mean what I said when I left. I think I will always love you, but some people just.. can't make it work."
Zack sniffs. He's smiling, but tears are forming. Jack is holding back sobs, too. Every word he's saying is right, and that's the worst part.
"I hope everything turns out right on your end. And hey, maybe in six months time, maybe longer, I'll text you, go out for drinks? Because you were a great friend, too."
"Y-eah," Jack chokes, and he can't help the sob he lets out. "Yeah, I'd like that, eventually. Sometime."
"Okay. I- I'll see you, Jay." Zack nods, adjusts his beanie, and turns back towards the path he came from.
Jack leaves, too, after Zack's figure is too far away for him to see. He goes home, stops by what was once his liquor cabinet, and calls Alex.
"Yeah, it's done."