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Jack never wanted to feel like this.
It isn’t Luke’s fault, or Quinn’s for that matter, but the hurt still consumes him, down to his bones.
There hadn’t been even a moment of hesitation, when Luke was drafted. He couldn’t stop shaking with all the love, the pride, the excitement. The deep ache of separation from his brothers was beginning to consume Jack. Knowing that someday soon he would never have to feel it again was almost too much to accept.
So, yeah, it fucking sucks to be so certain that Luke doesn’t feel the same; the same bone-deep relief, the same overwhelming joy that Jack feels to have him around.
He’s agitated, restless, and he knows the team is noticing—knows Nico is noticing—but he can’t shake the feeling that Luke sees something unbearably wrong with him.
It wells up inside him until it begins to pour out.
“Do you like it here? In Jersey?”
Luke just rolls his eyes. “‘Course,” he says, like it should be obvious.
“Right, yeah. Of course,” Jack says, soft, and he never wanted to feel this way.
-
It’s starting to affect his play. He’s pushing himself harder every practice, poking and prodding against his limits on the ice. He’s bone-tired, but he can’t shake his obsession with perfection. Nico notices, of course. He’s never not paying attention to Jack.
Jack tells him that he just really wants to win, when Nico asks. And it’s true, he really wants to win. It’s just—he wants to win for Luke . Nico clocks it’s not the full truth.
“I just want him to wanna be here,” Jack says, and Nico doesn’t ask again.
They win the Hughes Bowl—Hughesday, the Hugheslympics, Hughesapalooza, Hughesmania—and it still doesn’t feel like enough. Luke knows something is off, something is wrong, and he doesn’t exactly have Nico’s tact about it.
“Fuck is wrong with you?”
“Um…” Jack can’t put the right words together, so he just—doesn’t say any.
“Jacky. What’s going on with you?”
And Jack just doesn’t have an answer, because he can’t spill it all to Luke. He tells him it’s fine, that he’s fine, but it’s not enough for him. Jack’s anxious, terrified energy that had already been spilling out all over their team has completely consumed his little brother, and he has no fucking clue how to fix it.
-
He calls Quinn about it.
“Do you ever wish you played with us?”
“What are you talking about, Jack?”
“I don’t know. Do you like being away from us?”
“Why would I like being away from you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I wish I saw you and Moose more, but I like my team. I like playing against you.”
“Me too.”
“Would you ever wanna play in Vancouver?”
“God, no.”
“Don’t ask me anything that stupid again.”
Quinn hangs up without saying anything else, and it helps—sorta.
-
9:17pm
Luke
where r u
Luke
jacky?
10:12pm
Luke
z says ur not answering
where are you
Luke
q said uve been radio silent w him 2
what the fuck are you doing??
11:37pm
Luke
jack.
Jack
practiced late
be home soon
Luke
wtf
Jack
srry
-
“Have you talked to Luke about this?” Nico asks.
He wants to, but he also wants to bury it and never, ever bring it up to his brother.
He’s only sorta capable of lying to Nico, and only sometimes, so he doesn’t even bother trying right now. “Thinking about it makes me wanna throw up.”
Nico sighs. “He needs you, Jack. To be there for him.”
And that—that throws Jack for a loop.
“What do you mean? I’m always—there.”
“He knows something is wrong,” Nico says. “And he knows you’re trying to hide it from him.”
“He just doesn’t need to know about this.” Jack knows he’s getting too defensive, but he can’t be bothered about it. “This is all just me.”
Nico sighs again, clearly exasperated with Jack, and if he wasn’t so busy being terrified of his brother fucking off out of New Jersey at the drop of a hat, he might try to be ashamed for making this Nico’s problem. But Nico has always been the better person between the two of them, so he just wraps Jack up in his arms and urges him to talk to Luke.
He doesn’t talk to Luke.
-
He calls Trevor about it.
“Do you think Luke likes it here?”
“Why would I know better than you how he’s doing?”
“Dunno, man, just like—in case?”
“In case what?”
Jack hangs up when Trevor starts laughing. He’s not sure why he thought he would help.
-
He asks everyone he can think of, including Merc and Marino after they eke out a win in Seattle, two more text threads with Quinn, and a call to their mom. No one really gets it, and Jack can’t take it anymore.
Luke is just—he’s just sitting there, in their apartment, watching Quinn’s game against the Bolts, and it feels like the words are literally exploding out of Jack’s mouth.
“Do you ever wish you played with Quinn?”
Luke clearly wasn’t expecting Jack to ask him something that Jack has been told numerous times is the stupidest thought he’s ever had. “What?” he asks.
“You know, Quinn? 5’9, captain of the Canucks, our brother ?”
Luke looks so lost. “He’s 5’10.”
“So you do know him?”
“Fuck off, Jacky, what’s this about?” Luke sounds so exhausted, and Jack can’t stop thinking I did this to him.
“Do you wanna play with Quinn?” he asks again
“Like this summer?” Luke’s sleepy vocal fry morphs into pure confusion, like they’re on two completely different planes of existence right now.
“Like for your fucking job,” Jack snaps.
“Like, do I want him in Jersey?”
“No.”
Luke turns the tv off.
“What’s going on, Jacky?”
“Stop asking me that. Just answer my question.”
“Fuck no, it’s a dumb ass question.”
“Do you wish Vancouver drafted you instead?” Jack knows this is ridiculous. He knows he needs to let it go. But he can’t stop souring the memory for himself—Luke’s draft one of the best moments of his life, and it feels marred in his memory now, with all his anxieties.
All of the tension suddenly drains out of Luke. “Why do you think I would want that?”
Jack looks at the floor between their feet, picks at the seat of the couch between them. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I just—you have to know—“ and he can’t keep the tears in anymore.
“Oh, Jacky,” Luke whispers as he moves from his spot on the couch to wrap himself around Jack. The weight of him is shocking at first, Jack’s brain catching up and realizing it’s been so long since he’s reached out to him like this, but then it’s—well, it’s everything. It’s grounding and it’s perfect and Jack buries his sobs into his brother’s shoulder.
-
They don’t talk about it.
Nico takes to acting as a weighted blanket for Jack, which is nice, but he knows it’s not going to fix everything—not going to fix Jack.
“What are you thinking?” Nico whispers, his massive arms engulfing Jack as they lay down for a nap.
“Luke.” He’s too exhausted to get more words out.
Nico’s smile is sweet, temporarily settling the anxious butterflies that have been buzzing insistently for weeks. He brings one hand up to brush at Jack’s hair, to tuck it behind his ear before settling it next to Jack’s head on the pillow.
“You know what I think,” he says simply, and Jack just nods. “Do it soon. Stop letting it fester.”
Jack nods again, and they both doze off easy.
-
11:47am
Quiz
talk to like
like
like
like
luke
Jacky
lol
nailed it
-
“Can we talk?” Luke asks, and Jack hates thinking he’s turned his brother into an anxious mess just by being an anxious mess himself. “Please, Jacky?”
Jack reaches out and brushes Luke’s curls back from his forehead. “Yeah, bud, we can talk,” and it takes everything inside of Jack not to burst into tears again.
Luke nods, and he starts rearranging them: turning off the tv, grabbing a big blanket and settling it over both of them, draping his absolutely ridiculous, long-ass legs across Jack’s lap. He leans into the warmth and comfort of his brother, and the anxious buzzing inside of him, underneath his skin, finally begins to rest.
“Nico won’t tell me what’s going on with you,” Luke starts, his fingers fidgeting with the hairs on the back of Jack’s neck, “and Quinn just said you were an idiot when I asked him about it.”
“Yeah,” Jack sighs. “He told me to stop asking stupid questions.”
“Because you dropped that same bullshit on him about trades and drafts or whatever.” Luke’s voice is gentle, but still firm and insistent; he sounds so much older than 20. He sorta sounds like Mom. “Jacky, I like playing in Jersey. I like the guys I play with, and I’m so happy you get to be one of them. I would never want to play in Vancouver, don’t you get that?”
Jack nods, but they both can tell he doesn’t mean it. Luke sighs, shakes his head, says, “Why can’t you believe me?”
Jack swallows, and he knows he has to try and explain himself. He can’t keep avoiding this.
“I just got it in my head, I guess. We couldn’t even make it out of round two, and we were losing, and Nico and I both got injured and it was just so bad, bud.”
Luke bites at his thumb, his other hand still fucking with Jack’s hair. “Is that why you started practicing so much harder?”
Jack nods. “I thought it would make you like it here, if we could just win something.” He brushes his fingers through Luke’s hair again.
“I already like being here.”
“Really?” He can’t let go of his fears and insecurities, not even in the face of his brother’s promises and reassurance.
“I hate losing, and I don’t like us being separated. But that’s hockey, Jacky. This is what we all chose.” Luke is earnest, full of love and conviction, as he speaks.
They’re quiet for a while, Jack resting his head on Luke’s shoulder while he uses Luke’s leg as a weighted blanket. He’s getting sleepy, but Luke starts talking again.
“Why did you think I would leave you?” It’s what Jack has been the most devastated over, and clearly it’s run Luke over like a truck, too. “I know you’re like, insecure or whatever, but why did you think I would ever wanna leave you? Do you think that little of me?” Luke’s breaths have a jagged edge, and Jack realizes that there are tears steadily slipping their way down Luke’s face.
“Oh, bud, no. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just—Luke, I made it all up in my head. You have to know how much I love having you here.”
“I thought you knew how much I love being here!”
“Devs drafting you—you have to know that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Luke tucks his head down, presses his temple against Jack’s collarbone. “Me too.” He can feel Luke’s tears dropping against his skin, and Jack finally lets his own fall.
He tightens one arm around Luke, the other moving to mess with Luke’s hair.
“Why don’t you nap, bud?”
Luke nods, but he doesn’t move to get up from the couch. He stays right where he is, snuggling further into Jack’s arms, and all the anxious butterflies in Jack’s stomach finally settle in to rest. He hopes it’s permanent, this time.
-
huggy bear
where r we eating?
rowdy
who’s we??
huggy bear
reply to rowdy “who’s we??”
ur fucking w me
the three of us
dumbass
rowdy
reply to huggy bear “the three of us”
nuh uh
top five draft picks only
like
guys
huggy bear
reply to rowdy “top five draft picks only”
wtf ??
like
guys
huggy bear
i’m literally captain
rowdy
reply to huggy bear “im literally captain”
captain who went seventh
like
guys seriously can i please be rusty again
huggy bear
reply to like “guys seriously can i please be rusty again”
fuck no
rowdy
reply to like “guys seriously can i please be rusty again”
fuck off like
like
reply to huggy bear “i’m literally captain”
top five draft picks only