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When Stiles enters the room where Jackson is recovering, he closes the door behind him and finds himself paralyzed for a moment by the sight. Memories of Jackson in this bed when he was in a coma suddenly rush back through his mind and he can feel all the determination he had gathered before coming in, quickly slipping away.
“Stiles… do you plan on staying there all day? Do I look so terrible?” Jackson says, still with his eyes closed.
Jackson’s voice brings Stiles back to reality. He licks his lips, shaking his head. Obviously, Jackson’s sense of smell identifies most people he knows really quickly but with Stiles or their children, it’s second nature.
“No… well, a little pale… but still, very handsome,” Stiles says, approaching the bed.
Jackson snorts. “Sure,” Jackson says, opening his eyes to look at Stiles as he finds a chair to sit next to him.
“Nobody would think that you just went through surgery,” Stiles says, running his right hand through Jackson’s soft hair.
Jackson’s left hand finds Stiles’s, intertwining their fingers. “What happened? Why is your heart beating so fast?”
Stiles stares at Jackson, biting his lip. How does he even start to answer that question? For once he wishes Jackson’s wolf would leave his heart alone. The questioning only makes it harder to start saying what he has to say.
“I just… When I saw you… You know, I remembered the last time you were here.”
For Jackson, it doesn’t really make a lot of sense. That happened too long ago. He still doesn’t know what is going on but he knows Stiles is not being totally honest. Most likely, Stiles is worried and needs to process whatever has happened, and asking too many questions might not be the best thing to do.
“Well, this time I’m awake and I’m not pregnant, so you don’t have to worry so much,” Jackson says, hoping to lighten the mood.
Stiles closes his eyes for a moment. Yes, he’s definitely not pregnant. That is also true.
“You’re not in pain?” Stiles frowns.
“A little sore... but no, not really. Whatever has happened, I’ve been through worse. Stop worrying, okay?”
Stiles is not sure if that’s also true. Jackson might be wrong this time.
“Melissa didn’t tell me anything,” Jackson continues, “which means she told you to tell me or you told her you wanted to tell me… which one is it?”
“The second one, actually. I asked her not to tell you,” Stiles admits. “I’d rather tell you myself.”
“Fine. Then, just tell me, okay? Whatever it is, I can deal with it.”
“I know—I know how strong you are,” Stiles says, holding Jackson’s hand with both of his, “and you have me, we’ll deal with it together, like always. Remember that.”
“You’re my mate, of course, I remember.”
“Good,” Stiles nods. “Besides, the surgery went well and you’re gonna be fine, so you don’t have to worry.”
“Melissa said I fainted before Kane brought me here.”
“Yeah, that’s true because…” Stiles hesitates but he knows it’s stupid not to say it, “because you had a spontaneous miscarriage and I don’t know, Melissa is the one who might answer those questions but I guess that’s something that might happen when you experience something like that.”
A minute of silence feels like an eternity for Stiles after that. Jackson has his eyes open but he’s not looking at Stiles. He’s not looking at anything in particular. He’s got a frozen expression that worries Stiles instantly.
“Jackson, are you okay?” Stiles caresses Jackson’s cheek with his right before running his fingers through his hair. “Did you hear me? Are you—?”
“I heard you,” Jackson interrupts him, closing his eyes.
After another minute of silence, Stiles can’t take it anymore.
“Okay, so if you heard me, just say something, okay? Because you’re making me very nervous,” Stiles’ heart is beating faster again and he knows that is not what Jackson needs to hear right now but there’s nothing he can do to change it.
“I can deal with you being annoyed, or disappointed, or whatever, but I can’t deal with you not saying anything.” Stiles shakes his head. “I can’t deal with you shutting me out.”
Jackson sighs, opening his eyes. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m just... I’m trying to process what you just told me. Sorry if I’m not as responsive as I should be right now.”
“That's not… I mean, it’s okay… totally okay.” Stiles nods.
Jackson snorts. “There’s nothing okay about this. I know you—Your head might be about to explode—”
“No, I’m… I’m fine." Stiles nods even if he knows that he mustn't sound that convincing and that lying to the lie detector he's married to is utterly pointless. "When I got here, I realized you could be dead, and yeah, I was in shock but you are alive and you’re gonna be fine because you’re a wolf, and being what you are, you'll heal faster and that’s good, really good, so it’s a relief… I’m very relieved.” Stiles tries to control his emotions and his voice without much success and tears start running down his cheeks as he speaks.
“Stiles—Don’t cry.” Jackson's voice is soft but firm at the same time.
“You’re alive, okay?” Stiles brings the back of Jackson’s hand to his lips, kissing it. “These are tears of happiness. Plus, I’ll cry if I want to, you can't tell me what to do.”
“Stop—Just stop.” Jackson shakes his head. That didn't come out right even in the pleading tone he used. But that's how he is. He's not always in control of what he says. No matter how old he gets, that part of him hasn't changed.
Jackson doesn’t need their bond to feel and know everything about how his husband feels. And he doesn’t need to know all the details to see that they are both feeling the same for different reasons. They know each other too well to put up a front.
“The truth here… the truth is we fucked up.” Jackson snorts. “It wasn’t just me or just you... it was both of us.”
“I know,” Stiles nods, getting rid of any remaining tears with his fingers.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. We agreed—It was settled.”
“Jackson—” Stiles interrupts him.
“Don’t bother telling me it was also settled before Kyle happened because that was different. Very different. Now it was over. Really over.”
“I know. I know it was.” Stiles nods. “And I know what you’re saying.”
“Then, if you know, don’t make it harder than it has to be, okay? I know it’s fucked up but please, don’t do it to yourself, and don’t do it to me.”
(To be continued)