Archive of Our Own

Jack was stressed.

He had this important dinner with Lula and his stomach hurt and he wasn't sure if it was an actual problem in his stomach or if he was simply nervous about the outcome. Because he was.

Every time there was any sort of "I have to tell you something" or even worse "we need to talk", Jack got stressed. He could flee international police forces no problem but long-term relationships.... that was harder. Funnily enough, he had more experience being a fugitive and being "dead" than he had in long term relationships.

He more than once had felt like he was a mediocre or even bad boyfriend and the fact that he'd already been dumped once and he had to be the one to try and get Lula to take him back didn't help his anxiety.

Jack didn't know how to have long relationships because he just didn't have them, so when he tried to hold on to one it was easy to think that he was doing everything wrong all the time and that he was going to be abandoned again for being inadequate.

What if Lula was just waiting for him to fuck up to dump him again? What if she'd only taken him back because of pity, because of the heightened emotions of the glass cage? What if she hated to be with him now?

Jack was very confident in terms of stealing things, picking locks and throwing cards, but in matters of... emotions.... it was hard.

He'd been on his own for most of his life and even with the horsemen, he'd been the one singled out, the one who had to do things on his own. He knew how to isolate and he knew how to run away and how to keep someone happy and satisfied with you...

He was doing his best but he didn't know if his best was enough, or even appropriate. He hoped he was but.... sometimes he did wonder if Lula deserved better, if he should just let her be, maybe with someone that knew how to be a boyfriend.

He sighed.

She'd been the one who sought him at first, right? She must have seen something.

But that was so long ago... and unfortunately the last few years hadn't helped his self-worth feelings too much. There was Danny constantly blaming him for the disbandment of the Horsemen, calling him a coward, telling him he was pathetic and that he was humiliating himself.

Jack thought being on those cruises would maybe help, having his name on a big sign, being paid all that money... but the people on those cruises barely applauding and seemingly bored or unimpressed had been quite hard. Maybe he should have stayed behind the scenes. Maybe that was his only real place.

Jack closed his eyes, held on to his stomach.

He could do better, he could be better.

He was Horseman once again, Lula was choosing to stay with him every day and Dylan was going to come back to give them more exciting adventures. Things were good, he was good and his stomach ache was only in his head. You can do this, Jack.

Maybe if it had been some other time he would have told Lula that he was feeling a bit unwell and stayed on his couch for the evening while practicing with his cards, but this night was important for her and he was not going to fuck it up. He couldn't.

Even if he felt like the last thing he wanted to do in the world was eat, even the thought of food making him slightly nauseous. But he has to.... he has to push through.

Jack thought back to her saying that they she wasn't staying with him, that he wasn't cutting it for her anymore. He thought about all the nights he thought of her, wondering what he could have done differently. He was not going back to that black hole.

So he smiled at her dinner, wishing to god that he was hungry and hoping his acting skills would be good enough.

"Hope you're hungry!" Lula said. "Cos I made a lot."

She didn't often cook, so this was a big effort on her part. Jack knew he had to do the same thing - a big effort. And he could. He would.

This was a night Lula had worked hard for and he was a good boyfriend that wound NOT get dumped for a second time. He would try and ignore the pain that was certainly getting worse and would just... try to enjoy.

And Jack was good at misdirection and Lula loved to talk, so it was easy to make the conversation mostly about her.

Getting the food down was hard and he thought about doing some trick to just pretend he was eating, but Lula might realise and think he was doing it because he didn't trust her food or something and be hurt. Which was not the case. Jack was sure the food would be great if his stomach didn't hate him.

The great Jack Wilder, reduced to a mess of pain and insecurities.

Maybe Lula should really dump him. Maybe she deserved someone better than the great Jack Wilder with a magic wand on the i.

Lula was looking at him with warmth and some part of Jack felt that she probably would have understood it if he said his stomach hurt. That maybe she'd be bummed, but still, wouldn't outright dump him because he was feeling ill.

But now he couldn't do anything about it, right? H'ed had some of her food and if he said something now it would imply that her food had made him sick. So Jack just smiled, replied to her jokes with the half of a neuron that wasn't being consumed by pain and hope it would pass.

That the pain would pass.

It did not.

When Lula was about to tell him whatever she wanted to say (and she'd been excited, she'd been prepared) Jack ruined everything by gagging and having to go to the toilet to throw up the whole dinner and like everything else he'd eaten that day.

Fuck. Fuck.

Now she was going to leave him because he was throwing up her entire dinner and god, he just felt so bad, why did he have to feel so bad? Why did things always end so poorly, why couldn't he... why wouldn't he....it's all too much.

All the constant and intense throwing up had messed with his... everything and he was feeling awfully dizzy. His stomach had gone from hurting to be a pool of agony and everything was wrong.

I guess good thing don't last, Jack thought as the lights went out and he hit his head against the wall next to him.

*

Lula was losing her mind. A little.

Jack had been a bit weird all night and then he'd started to gag and had gone to puke what sounded like his entire inner organs. She would be worried about having poisoned him, but they'd eaten the same things, sometimes from the same plate and she was perfectly fine.

So maybe it wasn't her food. Maybe it was just Jack.

"Babe? You doing good?"

Lula could obviously hear that he wasn't "doing good" but any sort of answer would have given her a bit of reassurance. What she got instead was more fear, when she could only hear a thump and then nothing. No answer, no matter how frantically she called his name.

So Lula tried to open the locked door but her hands were shaking so she just... threw a good kick in there, broke the lock. And promptly found Jack passed out against the bathroom wall.

"Fuck. Jack??"

She put him in her lap, slapped his face gently, tried to get him back.

"C'mon babe, hey, come back to me, wake up, wake up."

She'd known something was wrong, hadn't she? Jack had been too quiet and she could have sworn she'd seen him wincing and holding his stomach once or twice. But she'd been too excited and she wanted to do it all and...

Jack had been trying so hard since they got back together and Lula had just wanted to show him her appreciation and maybe take a step to move them in the right direction, to show him she was all in - hopefully so he could stop worrying about being dumped again.

She had the key and everything and she'd been so exciting, talking about everything before her big announcement... and now...

"Jack, baby, come on, come on, open those eyes for me, will you?"

Lula was calling an ambulance as she kissed his hair, his temple. Fuck, he was too wrong.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" you know why, Lula "Baby, you have to stop being afraid to let me down, ok? I will not leave you for any small thing."

And now she was feeling terrible, because she knew of his trauma of people walking out on him (his entire family, fellow orphans, then Henley, then all the other horsemen, then... her) and she'd still done it with very little explanation. Just make it seem like it would have been okay with her if they never saw each other again.

Bullshit.

"Jack, please, can you look at me?"

He was so pale, he was all dehydrated and his arm was still around his midsection, that had apparently hurt a lot.

When he came to, he just muttered a little "hurts" and then "sorry" and Lula just held him close, until the paramedics came, the key and everything else forgotten.

He screamed so loudly when paramedics poked at his stomach. Lula was probably not going to forget that scream ever in her life. The agony in his eyes, the tears falling down, his hand holding hers tightly as he tossed on the stretcher while they were rushing him to the hospital.

The ambulance drive felt like it would never end.

Jack looked like he was in incredible pain and Lula hated it.

"I've got you, baby, okay, it'll be over soon, I promise, the doctors will fix you soon."

And then they took him and Lula was left... empty.

Throughout these past few months the feeling of regret for leaving him and not reaching out again had been stronger. And she was just.... making plans about making it up to him, preparing elaborate parties and stuff like that.

When she should have just talked to him. Reassured him, instead of trying to make a grand gesture. As much as gesture could be nice, maybe if he hadn't been walking into a surprise, he would have been able to tell her "hey, can we do this another time", would have been able to not eat the food that clearly hurt him.

Fuck.

They had to take him to surgery. Appendicitis. Almost late enough that the infection spread to his blood. Shit.

Lula called Henley and June for moral support and they both just told her that Jack would be all right, that he was strong. And Lula knew but sometimes... sometimes he went back to being a lost abandoned boy, so good at magic, but so uncertain about anyone loving him the way he loved.

She sighed and went to him the moment she was allowed.

Held his hand, placed a little kiss.

It took a while, but after a few hours he finally woke up.

Lula was still there.

When Jack managed to sit up and looked at her, he seemed more sad than in pain.

"Sorry I ruined your dinner." he said. "I know you were looking forward to it."

"Seriously? You almost die and that's what you're worried about?"

Jack almost flinched back, which wasn't a great reaction.

"No, baby, I just... you gotta talk to me, ok? I know you sometimes gets scared that you'll do something wrong and I'll leave again. I know. But I won't leave you for getting sick, even if it's a big day. Even if you're not too sick. You have to tell me, ok? If we're going to be together forever we need to be able to say things better to each other."

Jack looked hopeful, even in that hospital bed, without any of his cards or tricks.

"Forever?"

"Of course, you dum-dum. I've already spent enough time away from you. Now is my moment for unlimited Jack time. But you know, for that, I need you not to die."

Jack smiled.

"I'll try to remember it."

They put their foreheads together, just breathing the company, with no need for words, for once.

They would use their words more and better from now on, they would make sure of it but after that whole ordeal...

A forehead touch, a caress on a cheek, a soft kiss.

A look that said "I am overwhelmed with relief because you're well", a look that said "thank you for staying with me despite everything"

And the most important words:

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Forever."

"Forever."

Sometimes you just need a small near-death experience to improve your relationship.

Who would've known?