Day 72: In Which He Resets The Cycle

He was tired. He was tired of being locked up. He was tired of living in the in-between, waking up every morning hoping that that would be the day things would go back to 'normal'. He wanted to go back to the office and gossip with his coworkers by the water cooler. He wanted to be able to travel again. He wanted to see his family. He wanted to brunch with Tooth and Bunny. He wanted poor Hiccup to have his goddamn wedding already! But no. Day after day, his sanity wavered some more. That was his 'normal' now. And no matter what he liked to tell himself, Jack was not fine.

That couldn't be happening. Jack was the fun guy. The guy who always turned a bad situation into a good one. The guy who always had a joke on his sleeve; who brought a smile to anyone's face. Fun, and cool, and caring. He loved being that guy. It was his essence. What would the whole inner-conflict crap mean then? That he was losing himself? That he was spiraling down and there was nothing he could do about it? That a day would come when despair would overwhelm him and he would not be able to stand up again?

No. That wouldn't do.

He needed something to occupy his mind. To send those annoying feelings back to the dusty vault he usually kept them locked up inside.


He wanted to see her. He wanted to be with her like he had never before. Proximity had made him needy. He was addicted. A single touch made him crave the next one, and the next one, and the next one, like an unstoppable sequence of dominos falling one after the other. He needed her. He needed her there with him. He needed her curled up against him, her hair brushing his cheeks, her lips scorching his skin. He needed to hear her voice, mocking him and calling him an idiot again. He needed her to fill his world so he couldn't think of anything else.

Jack clutched his phone as he waited for her reply. A pain he couldn't really pinpoint made him close his eyes tight, and he sighed until all the air had left his lungs.

He must've dozed off at some point, because next thing he knew, he was being woken up by an annoying buzzing against his throat. He picked his phone up and checked the notifications. Elsa had finally answered his text.

Not wasting another second, he rushed to her door, resting his forehead against the cold wood as he waited for it to open. He probably shouldn't have, seeing as when the door did open, he lost balance, coming stumbling into her apartment and grasping anything his hands could reach before he crashed onto the floor.

"Hey, you," Elsa chuckled out of breath in his ear.

Accident or not, he didn't care anymore. He closed his eyes, pulling her closer and squeezing her tiny frame against him. He felt the tightness in his throat lessening as he focused on the rhythm of her heartbeat and the warmth of her embrace.

"... Did something happen?" she asked, one of her hands tangling in his hair and fingers caressing his scalp.

He grunted with a slight shake of his head.

"You look tired."

"I am tired."

Elsa pulled back to look into his eyes. Her fingers made a line down his neck, and her palm rested against his heart. She smiled. Her smile was so damn comforting. He felt safe. He felt saved. Even if Elsa herself wasn't aware of it, with that simple smile, she told him that things would work out. That not all was lost. That no matter how bad the world got, good things could still come out of it.

"Sit down. I'll fix you something—"

He pulled her into his arms before she could put any more space between them. "Yeah, just…"

Just a moment more. He just needed a moment more of weakness. And then, he'd go back to his idiot self. He'd go back to teasing her. To making her laugh. But for now, just let him be the one who's comforted. Let her be his anchor. Just for a moment more. Then, things could go back to normal.

And they could have fun all over again.

This is the end. For real this time. Probably.