Laugh until you cry.
OOC: Based off of a scene in 1x10.
The jokes are probably where it starts.
They pass between them so easily, after all. John Ellis is a good man, a man of his time, and Jack knows his time very well. He's loved it, everything about it, so every reference made strikes a chord in them both. John never seems to question just why Jack recognizes everything he speaks of, and Jack knows it's just because he's so grateful for the connection. He understands. He never finds those that often anymore.
But the jokes, definitely, is where it starts. The rest of the world is flowing around them, time is constantly marching on, and there is no going back. Not for either of them. And no one there in the bar will understand what they know, what they share. They are alone, the both of them, and with every joke, they know it.
It doesn't get any better. But they're still trying, even when the comfort offered starts to hurt more than it helps. Jack can feel it, the weight of it all, the misplacement and the loneliness, heavy on his heart. He misses everything he's lost, and feels exhaustion towards everything to come. But there is no turning back. There's only going forward.
But he still laughs. He and John both. They laugh, and when the tears start to roll down both of their faces, they pretend not to notice. They allow each other the dignity of appearing to soldier on. Jack knows that's exactly what he'll do. He doesn't have a choice. He'll help John to do the same. He tells himself the connection they share will make it easier on them both.
He even manages to tell himself that the look in John Ellis's eyes, the sheer heartbreak that's undeniable, that will pass too. He'll learn. He'll cope. He'll make the best of what he has. It's what they do. The both of them.
Somehow, it'll work.
The jokes are probably where it starts.
They pass between them so easily, after all. John Ellis is a good man, a man of his time, and Jack knows his time very well. He's loved it, everything about it, so every reference made strikes a chord in them both. John never seems to question just why Jack recognizes everything he speaks of, and Jack knows it's just because he's so grateful for the connection. He understands. He never finds those that often anymore.
But the jokes, definitely, is where it starts. The rest of the world is flowing around them, time is constantly marching on, and there is no going back. Not for either of them. And no one there in the bar will understand what they know, what they share. They are alone, the both of them, and with every joke, they know it.
It doesn't get any better. But they're still trying, even when the comfort offered starts to hurt more than it helps. Jack can feel it, the weight of it all, the misplacement and the loneliness, heavy on his heart. He misses everything he's lost, and feels exhaustion towards everything to come. But there is no turning back. There's only going forward.
But he still laughs. He and John both. They laugh, and when the tears start to roll down both of their faces, they pretend not to notice. They allow each other the dignity of appearing to soldier on. Jack knows that's exactly what he'll do. He doesn't have a choice. He'll help John to do the same. He tells himself the connection they share will make it easier on them both.
He even manages to tell himself that the look in John Ellis's eyes, the sheer heartbreak that's undeniable, that will pass too. He'll learn. He'll cope. He'll make the best of what he has. It's what they do. The both of them.
Somehow, it'll work.