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Despite his promises of being able to handle him, Jackson started finding Holland hard to be around. Not unbearable, but difficult nonetheless.
It wasn’t his fault really, he was a perfect lover, someone Jack never thought he’d deserve. It was how he treated himself that drained all the energy out of the older man.
The first time they met Jackson immediately noticed the bandage around Holland’s wrist. It seemed pathetic at the time, then scary, then a total misunderstanding, as he found out later laying in bed with Holland smoking with his head in the crook of Jackson’s neck, telling him about how stupid he was accidentally slitting his wrist while on a job.
Then he saw the precise cuts and angry red circles that painted the blonde’s thighs and the scar felt a lie, as if he tried to cover up hidden intentions with a visible accident.
They argued that night. Jackson knew it was shitty of him to get mad, shaming someone for their suffering was one low fucking bar, but throughout the last year of knowing Holland he learned that all the man did he did for others, never himself.
“Christ, March, last month I’ve had you in my lap with my fingers in your side so a bullet wouldn’t kill you, just for you to make sure you get it’s job done? Is that really where you draw the line? You’re constantly in my ear, lamenting and whining about every minor inconvenience but you didn’t think of telling me about this?” He gestured between the man’s legs, which Holland quickly threw a pillow over, covering up the scars and a few healing wounds with shame, whispering “‘s not the same” as his eyes drifted away from Jackson, blinking away a few tears that he should’ve let fall down freely.
He should be crying, begging for help and forgiveness, letting Healy into his mind and figuring out how to get better together. Instead he hid even further.
“Oh yeah? Enlighten me then, what’s the fucking difference? Instead of you mindlessly throwing yourself off another building I will find you bleeding out in our own house?! Real fuckin’ comforting, Holland” He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face “You don’t get to do this, March. It’s so unfair.”
“Do what?” March didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes on the door behind Jackson and his voice small, quiet. Vulnerable.
“This!” He exclaimed a little bit too loud, causing Holland to flinch. “Fucking hell, Holland. You make me fall in love with you, care for you, crave to put a ring on your finger, just so you can make me wear mine around my neck?” He watched all the color drain from the younger man’s face, his eyes back at him, shame turning into shock and anger “Because I know damn well, you, of all people know how shitty that feels!” His voice was bordering a yell.
“Shut up.” Holland warned.
“You don’t get to grieve and suffer and make it everyone’s problem just to try and put them through the same shit!”
“I said shut the fuck up!” The blonde didn’t move, his eyes only gone wide and wild, his breathing quickened and his voice rose. He was shaking, and Healy couldn’t tell if it was the intensity of the conversation or only the anger itself.
“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, March” He said, voice suddenly quiet, watching the other man shake his head slightly with the same exact expression “I just, I can’t lose you, man. I can’t afford that, and neither can Holly. You always brag about me being the better parent figure for her, but you don’t know if I’ll stay this way without you here. You shame yourself for grief overtaking you, what makes you think it wouldn’t take me as well?” He watched Holland’s eyes turn toward the door again, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.
“You obviously need help, and I don’t understand why the most dramatic, needy man I know stops bothering me when it’s something actually worth my attention. I take my time listening to bullshit and it feels like the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard when it comes from you, so I really don’t understand what’s stopping you. I want to understand you, March, but you’re making it real fuckin’ difficult.” He reached his hand out slowly, carefully. When no negative reaction came from the blonde, he cupped his jaw and brushed his thumb against the other’s cheekbone. Holland melted into the touch, a few stray tears finally falling down far enough to drip down along Jackson’s inner palm.
“I don’t understand why you still try” Holland almost whispered.
“Your flaws are not as original as you think they are, I’m no better than you. Perfect people don’t exist, and if they do then fuck that, I don’t want perfect” He continued the repetitive motion, not indulging in any other physical contact yet, trying not to overstep “I want you, I want you exactly as you are. It’s driving me insane that the only person keeping that away from me is you. Your presence matters way more than you think, and you deserve help. Don’t try to tell me that you don’t, because if that’d be true, I swear to god I’d be one selfish motherfucker for helping you just to keep you around” Jackson felt tears gathering up in his own eyes.
It felt weird to feel relieved as Holland threw himself into Jackson’s arms and started grasping at his wife-beater and sobbing into it, but it had been the closest to full honesty about his pain he seemed to get yet. Healy held him, his arm tight around the younger man, one of his hands reaching up to comb through his hair. Holland’s grip seemed to get impossibly tighter.
“‘s not that I wanna die, y’know. It’s actually the complete opposite, I just want to feel, to- to make sure I’m alive. After the fire all I could think about was : why her, and not me? It felt like fate had a target and missed it completely, I convinced myself I deserved to die way more than she did. I got so in my head about it that the nightmares and flashbacks started blending into reality. Soon enough I couldn’t tell if I was remembering the flames, dreaming about them or actively feeling them burn my skin” Holland turned his head to the side, still on Healy’s chest but allowing him to talk clearly and avoid eye contact. “Drinking myself blind practically every day didn’t help. Then one night, I was blacked out in my bed smoking a cigarette, half aware of what was goin’ on. I accidentally burned myself” He rose his arm, showing a single pale circle placed where it bent “That split second was enough to sober me up enough to suddenly bring me back to reality. Made the guilt so much worse but felt like a kick in the ass I needed to get my shit together. So now, when I need one I just do … that. I don’t really remember when the cuts joined in, but I can tell you that their number hasn’t grown since I met you”
Healy understood what Holland was doing. What he didn’t understand however, was why some of the wounds seemed so fresh. He was doing so much better. He was drinking less, started picking up Holly from school again, changing the batteries in the fire alarms only when needed and not every week.
“Then why still do it? It gave you a reality check, which I get, but you really got your shit together now” Healy murmured into his hair as he lowered his head to plant a gentle kiss there, a gesture that meant “I’m just asking, not judging. Help me understand”
Holland shook his head “I’m not where I want to be yet. It’s not about what I’m doing now, but what I did before. I was an asshole, Jack. I was a drunk, a shitty father. Just because that’s all behind me doesn’t mean I, and so many people around me are not suffering the consequences. It’s just my fair share of ‘em” He finally pulled away, wiping the remaining wet stains on his cheeks and looking at the older man “So no, I am not leaving, I’m not doing this because I wanna die, or out of self pity. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s my sick kind of motivation, a punishment” He took Jack’s hands in his. They stayed quiet for a moment, looking at Holland’s thumbs brushing over his knuckles.
“How about you try something different?” Healy gently pulled his hands away from March’s grip to take one of them in his own and brought it up to his face, kissing the open palm.
“Next time you want to hurt yourself, you do something for Holly. Whatever you choose, drive her where she asks you to, drive her somewhere she doesn’t ask you to but you know will make her happy. Agree to something you usually wouldn’t, let her skip a school day and spend it with us. I don’t need much, Holland, but if you genuinely want her to see you’ve changed, you can’t continue on with a habit that’s tied to what had you mess up in the first place. You need to look past the shame and try. I know you can, because you’ve come so far, and you can’t mess it up by finding a way of clinging to who you were. You don’t wanna do it for yourself, fine, but do it for her” He looked at March who only nodded, leaning into a kiss which Jack quickly melted into, his hands sliding down to Holland’s waist. When they parted they kept their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed. Holland was the first one to break the silence.
“I love you. I promise I will try, I have been trying … It’s not that easy, but it’s worth it if it’s for you two”
“And for you, too” Jackson added, punching a quiet chuckle out of the blonde, then continued “I know it’s not, so I appreciate you trying. That’s all I’m asking for, sweetheart”