The Provocation

Ethan inhaled deeply, a sense of tranquility washing over him. His usual emotional turmoil seemed to have taken a backseat, replaced by a calm he hadn't felt in a while. He had spoken his mind to Jack, and it felt liberating. No more dredging up painful emotions or losing his temper. Just conversation.

"Are you... refusing to talk?" Jack's voice held an unfamiliar tremor, a hint of emotion Ethan hadn't encountered before. Jack's usual demeanor ranged from a playful smile to a teasing smirk, but this worry was new.

"No, Jack, I want to converse with you. I truly do."

A frown creased Jack's forehead, his right hand nervously playing with his pen, twirling it, clicking it, even dropping it a couple of times.

For once, Ethan felt serene. No distractions, no guilt, no remorse. No revisiting the past. It was just Ethan and Jack, two individuals in a room.

As he studied Jack, he noticed a change. Jack's usual calm was absent, replaced by an emotion Ethan couldn't quite place. It was like looking into a mirror reflecting his past self. Was it worry? Or something else, something he recognized but couldn't name?

"Jack, are you alright?" Ethan asked, his gaze scrutinizing.

"I'm excellent," Jack responded, attempting a professional smile that faltered as his pen slipped from his fingers, revealing his actual state.

"I do want to converse with you. I just phrased it poorly." Ethan seemed to be searching for the right words, trying to alleviate the worry etched on the face of the blond man before him. "I just don't want to discuss my past."

"Ethan, you need to confront your past. We must discuss Natsumi, your pain, your guilt," Jack insisted, his frown deepening and worry visible on his face.

"No, Jack. No more."

A tense silence filled the room. For a moment, Ethan was taken aback by his calmness, his focus—a sense of control, a sense of self. Ethan Reed was on the mend.

"I'm done discussing these matters. We've covered them extensively. I want to engage with you. To discuss other topics."

Jack paused before he sighed deeply. "Ethan. You're a shadow of your former self. You're far from okay; look at yourself. Why are you pushing me away?"

"I'm not pushing you away. I feel significantly better since I stepped into your office today. Perhaps tonight, I might finally get some sleep?" A soft, giddy smile graced his lips, seemingly exacerbating Jack's frustration.

"Ethan. Are you sleeping? Are you eating? Do you venture outside? Do you interact with anyone besides me?"

A strange tension hung in the air as the two men locked gazes.

"Ethan, you're not looking well. You can't convince me that everything that transpired has been resolved, that you're now okay, and nothing is amiss."

He hesitated before responding. If he admitted to Jack that he hadn't slept for about a week or that he was barely eating, Jack would worry. Why couldn't Jack understand that Ethan simply wanted to alleviate his concerns? Why wouldn't he believe him? Although the situation with Natsumi still stung, it was no longer a pressing issue.

"I'm okay, Jack. Trust me." He was, at least when it came to his pain and regrets. He would never forget it, but it no longer consumed him. "Why can't you understand?"

A loud snap echoed through the office—a deafening silence followed as Ethan noticed the broken pen in Jack's hand. Confusion and pain marred his face, tinged with a hint of anger. Something Ethan had never seen before. Why was Jack so upset?

"Ethan, you don't understand. I'm here to help you to guide you toward recovery. I want you to regain your health and happiness. So we need to discuss it. You can't just sweep it under the rug and pretend it's over."

Taking a deep breath, Jack stood up, his hands slamming onto the table. "Can't you see how much it pains me to see you like this? I'm worried about you!"

Worry. The one emotion Ethan had been trying to avoid throughout their conversation. As something inside him slowly snapped.

"You don't understand, Jack! You can't understand! You haven't lost what I've lost! You haven't done what I've done! So leave me alone!"

In response, Jack raised his voice, stepping closer to Ethan, gripping his wrist, and pulling him close—a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes. "You're not the only one with demons, Ethan! You're not the only one who's hurting! I'm not going anywhere, so you better get used to it!"

"You...I..." For a moment, Ethan was stunned, struggling to formulate his thoughts, to find the right words. "You don't understand me. You won't listen to me."

A deep sigh escaped Jack's lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I am listening to you. You're the one who's not listening to me, Ethan. I want to help you heal," he said, seemingly realizing he had chosen the wrong words. His eyes widened as he tried to articulate his thoughts.

"Jack. I'm not a broken toy for you to fix. You're mistaken. You can't fix me... nobody can. I'm a person, Jack. Someone with feelings and opinions of my own. With... pain..."

"No, Ethan, that's not what I meant," he replied, cupping Ethan's face with his free hand. "That's not what I meant at all. I just... why are you pushing me away? Why are you doing this? I don't understand."

"You're usually the only one who understands, yet now you understand nothing," Ethan said, a hollow chuckle filling the silence.

"Why are you concealing your feelings? Why are you hiding what's happening to you? Why shut down?"

"You don't get it."

For the first time, Ethan witnessed Jack Van Derloch scream and cry. It was a sight that frightened him. The man who was supposed to be his sanctuary, the calm one of the two, was an emotional wreck. Tears, screams, and even holding his wrist by force. He couldn't comprehend it at all.

His calmness fades as his voice slowly trails off in between words, "I'm just... I'm just tired, Jack. Tired of fighting, tired of hurting. I just... I want it to stop. So let me go."

With a look of utter shock, Jack released his wrist. He was still mumbling and worried. He had something to say and ask, but the words didn't form.

"I'm going home," Ethan said softly before walking to the door. "We'll talk later. Maybe then you'll understand."

An icy cold feeling had taken root in Ethan's chest. Even if the sun shone brightly and the sweat stuck to his skin, he could feel the lump of ice in his chest.

As he walked, he replayed the conversations in his head. The many expressions Jack had made, the calmness he had felt. The words just poured out of his mouth, the stream of thought now reality.

"I shouldn't have said those things. I shouldn't have pushed him away. He was trying to help. But I just... I couldn't handle it. I couldn't take the worry in his eyes, the fear. It was too much. And now... now I've hurt him. And I don't know how to fix it."