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Summary
There was weight to the words that Jack felt: he’d been there, been in the place where tired was the only word he could use even as he stared into the void and wondered what non-existence would be like. Used tired to both tell the world how ready he was to go and brush off the concern of those around him.
Felt so much bone-weary exhaustion that Robby had followed him home, curled up around him in his bed, and held him through the worst part of grief.
He hated tired.
(Robby's been denying himself headspace for entirely too long. Jack's done watching him struggle.)