fic: Best Man
Hmm...I started to cry in the dairy section tonight, over milk. It was even on sale. So I wrote this little bit to try and chill out my stress level. Does anyone out there even follow Jericho?
Title: Best Man
Characters: Jake, mentions of Eric, Johnston, Gail
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine either.
Summary: Just a snippet. Spoilers for "Why We Fight" flaskbacks.
He wasn’t drunk.
He’d had a bit to drink, yeah, but it was a day to celebrate. His little brother was married now, and practically the whole town had turned out for the festivities. He’d been at the bar with his grandfather, his girl, and his best friend. But he’d been taking it easy on the booze, spending more time trying to organize his thoughts really, even if the napkin didn’t look so impressive when his mother scanned it over.
And later, when Eric handed him the second speech at the little bar in the lobby, he’d been drinking, sure, but not drunk. Never drunk.
He just needed a little fortitude to get him through standing up to give a speech to a room full of people who seemed to think they knew him better then he knew himself--the mayor’s son, the groom’s older brother.
The screw-up. And the sham, apparently.
And with two speeches still in his pocket, and the night quiet around him now, even with the party still going on behind him, he’d still lied to his father.
He really was proud of his little brother. It was hard not to be. He was smart, and successful, and had a great woman on his arm. He didn’t need his mom, or the groom himself, to tell him what to say.
It was easier to tell his father that his mom wrote the speech. It was easier to let them all think that he wasn’t a sentimental fool, to let them think he was unreliable and a drunkard. They would all think what they wanted to anyway.
He’d been honored when Eric had asked him. Of course, he’d joked about it, about Eric not having enough friends so that he’d had to resort to asking his brother. They had laughed about it, and he’d been so sure that Eric had been laughing with him. But now he wasn’t sure. Not with his mother watching him to make sure he didn’t cause a scene, and with Eric almost angry with him for being, well, himself.
He was the best man to keep up appearances. Not because anyone wanted him to be, and not because he had earned it.
He knew that. He knew that they didn’t approve of his choices, or the way he was living his life.
He stared down the road to where his father and grandfather had wandered off. He couldn’t follow them there. Not yet.
Title: Best Man
Characters: Jake, mentions of Eric, Johnston, Gail
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine either.
Summary: Just a snippet. Spoilers for "Why We Fight" flaskbacks.
He wasn’t drunk.
He’d had a bit to drink, yeah, but it was a day to celebrate. His little brother was married now, and practically the whole town had turned out for the festivities. He’d been at the bar with his grandfather, his girl, and his best friend. But he’d been taking it easy on the booze, spending more time trying to organize his thoughts really, even if the napkin didn’t look so impressive when his mother scanned it over.
And later, when Eric handed him the second speech at the little bar in the lobby, he’d been drinking, sure, but not drunk. Never drunk.
He just needed a little fortitude to get him through standing up to give a speech to a room full of people who seemed to think they knew him better then he knew himself--the mayor’s son, the groom’s older brother.
The screw-up. And the sham, apparently.
And with two speeches still in his pocket, and the night quiet around him now, even with the party still going on behind him, he’d still lied to his father.
He really was proud of his little brother. It was hard not to be. He was smart, and successful, and had a great woman on his arm. He didn’t need his mom, or the groom himself, to tell him what to say.
It was easier to tell his father that his mom wrote the speech. It was easier to let them all think that he wasn’t a sentimental fool, to let them think he was unreliable and a drunkard. They would all think what they wanted to anyway.
He’d been honored when Eric had asked him. Of course, he’d joked about it, about Eric not having enough friends so that he’d had to resort to asking his brother. They had laughed about it, and he’d been so sure that Eric had been laughing with him. But now he wasn’t sure. Not with his mother watching him to make sure he didn’t cause a scene, and with Eric almost angry with him for being, well, himself.
He was the best man to keep up appearances. Not because anyone wanted him to be, and not because he had earned it.
He knew that. He knew that they didn’t approve of his choices, or the way he was living his life.
He stared down the road to where his father and grandfather had wandered off. He couldn’t follow them there. Not yet.