the kids are in trouble
the kids are in trouble; jack/claire; tame; 1125 words
The first month off of the island passed in what Jack only thought of as the haze before dawn. The hour when it’s cold and steel grey and the only thing that keeps him from going back to sleep is the promise of a kinder light and the inevitable sun. The two months after the haze he classified as dawn. When magic springs from the frigid blades of grass speckled with dew, the birds shrill cries echoing the strangely empty streets of Los Angeles and the world unfurls to itself- completely vulnerable.
During the real dawn, the sun spreads and the day begins, but for Jack’s dawn, everything froze because of his own sun. Claire had moved in when he asked her to. He couldn’t bear to see her go back to Sydney with Aaron and she hadn’t wanted to. The memory of asking was still fresh in his mind as he stood in his dark kitchen watching the street below. Wiping tears from her eyes, Claire hugged the others and took Jack’s arm snugly in hers, head against his shoulder.
“Don’t leave, Claire. Stay with me. My place is big and you and Aaron need somewhere to be.” It wasn’t true. They had money now; more than enough to live on back in Sydney, but she nodded.
“Thank you.”
In Los Angeles, nothing stirred except for Jack. The sky was a watery blue at 4:30 am, barely allowing enough light in for him to see by, but he didn’t turn on a lightswitch in his house for fear of jarring his senses back to reality. The gentle transition of the sky from black to blue to purple to pink to orange to blue and back to black was a gradient system he had learned to appreciate over the past two months. He woke up at 4:20 every morning, no matter how many sleeping pills he took or how little sleep he got. Every morning he watched life begin for a soulless city, his mind drawn from the sleeping woman in his bed and the baby next door.
Since Claire and Aaron had moved in, he’d found himself breathing in two scents: flowers and coffee. Whether it was the shampoo she used or the bouquet she always replaced in the crystal vase on the kitchen table, the sweet and earthy smell fuzzed his mind in the early hours and made him think of the island. The coffee smell he knew came from himself. He downed pots of the drink all day to keep himself able to think and stay awake. It hurt him to smell them both together, mixed with sweat and hot breath on their necks in the middle of the afternoon while Aaron slept. They both knew things were wrong, but neither of them wanted to speak of it.
The only time Jack would talk to her about it was when she was sleeping. After he had stared at the changing clouds for long enough to make his eyes ache he crawled back into bed, watching Claire’s blonde hair flutter around her lips.
“I don’t want this anymore,” he would say to her, one hand balanced carefully on her hip. “We can’t be together. This is torture. You should go back to Sydney with Aaron. He deserves so much better than living in this fucked up situation. You deserve so much more, Claire. I want you to be happy and to be normal and to forget your feelings for me.” He’d speak to her as if he wanted her to respond, but the smallest sigh in her sleep or shift of position would scare his heart into a frenzy until he left for the safety of the kitchen, where the only noise was the ticking clock on the wall.
“Morning,” she would say, kissing his scruffy cheek. Standing in the sunlight falling through the window in bright waves, his troubles were forgotten. She was all he ever wanted to see, squinting through dark lashes at him sleepily.
“What?” She asked, smiling and turning to pour herself a mug of coffee.
“It’s nothing- you just look so happy in the morning.”
“Well, I am happy in the morning.”
“I thought everybody hated the morning,” he would say.
“I’m relaxed, I don’t want to think about the day yet, if it’s raining or sunny, Aaron’s sleeping still- what’s to be upset about?” He chuckled and looked across the table at where she was now sitting, wearing one of his t-shirts.
“I guess you’re right.” What was to be upset about? How could she say that? “I’m going to shower,” he would announce, getting up and emptying his cup into the sink before kissing her on the top of the head, breathing in deeply the scent of jungle flowers and rain. It was Claire’s favorite time of the day now. The sun wasn’t too hot, still a lazy orange filtered through the window and warming her bones in unison with the coffee she sipped from a chipped mug.
She listened to the splashing from the shower, turning the baby monitor in Aaron’s room up and placing it on the table to listen for his movements. Claire knew she needed to get out, to go back home and give Aaron a normal upbringing. She couldn’t raise him with his uncle as a father. She didn’t want it for him. Yet seeing Jack at the table, eyes old and tired but still smiling when he saw her caused her heart to flutter and her brain to consider Los Angeles as her permanent home. No matter how many times she told herself to leave one night and not come back, to take her son and embark on a normal life, she wouldn’t. Leaving Jack would mean leaving safety and the haze would ascend once more and dawn would be lost.
She knew she must leave soon, before things developed further with Jack. No matter what he said to her face, she knew what he wanted from her. He wanted to sleep alone again, to listen to the clocks without worrying about her waking up and questioning him. Early in the morning when the street lights were the only things alive on the streets, she heard him tell her these things over and over. To stifle her tears she would move and he would leave for the kitchen.
The past two months had scared her to her very core- leaving her shuddering. The shudder reminded her of her horrors and of the horrors to come. Horrors disguised as a troubling feeling in her chest when she saw him, sleepless and harrowing. She heard Aaron gurgle through the monitor and Jack cough in the shower. Home had never felt as dreadful.
The first month off of the island passed in what Jack only thought of as the haze before dawn. The hour when it’s cold and steel grey and the only thing that keeps him from going back to sleep is the promise of a kinder light and the inevitable sun. The two months after the haze he classified as dawn. When magic springs from the frigid blades of grass speckled with dew, the birds shrill cries echoing the strangely empty streets of Los Angeles and the world unfurls to itself- completely vulnerable.
During the real dawn, the sun spreads and the day begins, but for Jack’s dawn, everything froze because of his own sun. Claire had moved in when he asked her to. He couldn’t bear to see her go back to Sydney with Aaron and she hadn’t wanted to. The memory of asking was still fresh in his mind as he stood in his dark kitchen watching the street below. Wiping tears from her eyes, Claire hugged the others and took Jack’s arm snugly in hers, head against his shoulder.
“Don’t leave, Claire. Stay with me. My place is big and you and Aaron need somewhere to be.” It wasn’t true. They had money now; more than enough to live on back in Sydney, but she nodded.
“Thank you.”
In Los Angeles, nothing stirred except for Jack. The sky was a watery blue at 4:30 am, barely allowing enough light in for him to see by, but he didn’t turn on a lightswitch in his house for fear of jarring his senses back to reality. The gentle transition of the sky from black to blue to purple to pink to orange to blue and back to black was a gradient system he had learned to appreciate over the past two months. He woke up at 4:20 every morning, no matter how many sleeping pills he took or how little sleep he got. Every morning he watched life begin for a soulless city, his mind drawn from the sleeping woman in his bed and the baby next door.
Since Claire and Aaron had moved in, he’d found himself breathing in two scents: flowers and coffee. Whether it was the shampoo she used or the bouquet she always replaced in the crystal vase on the kitchen table, the sweet and earthy smell fuzzed his mind in the early hours and made him think of the island. The coffee smell he knew came from himself. He downed pots of the drink all day to keep himself able to think and stay awake. It hurt him to smell them both together, mixed with sweat and hot breath on their necks in the middle of the afternoon while Aaron slept. They both knew things were wrong, but neither of them wanted to speak of it.
The only time Jack would talk to her about it was when she was sleeping. After he had stared at the changing clouds for long enough to make his eyes ache he crawled back into bed, watching Claire’s blonde hair flutter around her lips.
“I don’t want this anymore,” he would say to her, one hand balanced carefully on her hip. “We can’t be together. This is torture. You should go back to Sydney with Aaron. He deserves so much better than living in this fucked up situation. You deserve so much more, Claire. I want you to be happy and to be normal and to forget your feelings for me.” He’d speak to her as if he wanted her to respond, but the smallest sigh in her sleep or shift of position would scare his heart into a frenzy until he left for the safety of the kitchen, where the only noise was the ticking clock on the wall.
“Morning,” she would say, kissing his scruffy cheek. Standing in the sunlight falling through the window in bright waves, his troubles were forgotten. She was all he ever wanted to see, squinting through dark lashes at him sleepily.
“What?” She asked, smiling and turning to pour herself a mug of coffee.
“It’s nothing- you just look so happy in the morning.”
“Well, I am happy in the morning.”
“I thought everybody hated the morning,” he would say.
“I’m relaxed, I don’t want to think about the day yet, if it’s raining or sunny, Aaron’s sleeping still- what’s to be upset about?” He chuckled and looked across the table at where she was now sitting, wearing one of his t-shirts.
“I guess you’re right.” What was to be upset about? How could she say that? “I’m going to shower,” he would announce, getting up and emptying his cup into the sink before kissing her on the top of the head, breathing in deeply the scent of jungle flowers and rain. It was Claire’s favorite time of the day now. The sun wasn’t too hot, still a lazy orange filtered through the window and warming her bones in unison with the coffee she sipped from a chipped mug.
She listened to the splashing from the shower, turning the baby monitor in Aaron’s room up and placing it on the table to listen for his movements. Claire knew she needed to get out, to go back home and give Aaron a normal upbringing. She couldn’t raise him with his uncle as a father. She didn’t want it for him. Yet seeing Jack at the table, eyes old and tired but still smiling when he saw her caused her heart to flutter and her brain to consider Los Angeles as her permanent home. No matter how many times she told herself to leave one night and not come back, to take her son and embark on a normal life, she wouldn’t. Leaving Jack would mean leaving safety and the haze would ascend once more and dawn would be lost.
She knew she must leave soon, before things developed further with Jack. No matter what he said to her face, she knew what he wanted from her. He wanted to sleep alone again, to listen to the clocks without worrying about her waking up and questioning him. Early in the morning when the street lights were the only things alive on the streets, she heard him tell her these things over and over. To stifle her tears she would move and he would leave for the kitchen.
The past two months had scared her to her very core- leaving her shuddering. The shudder reminded her of her horrors and of the horrors to come. Horrors disguised as a troubling feeling in her chest when she saw him, sleepless and harrowing. She heard Aaron gurgle through the monitor and Jack cough in the shower. Home had never felt as dreadful.