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As the saying goes, some days are better than others.
In Gabriel’s experience, those “other” days outweighed the better. They always had; it was just the hand he had been dealt. Gabriel had long since stopped pitying himself for it. If anything, it had always been fuel to the fires that drove him to do the impossible. It didn’t stop those “other” days from happening and certainly didn’t make them any less frequent.
Old age, maladapted enhancements and being a revived corpse hadn’t made any of that easier. There were days when pain corroded every fiber of his being, splitting him apart until Gabriel was nothing more than a buzzing swarm of nanites and ash. There were days when the exhaustion and grief and the toll of everything he had done drove him towards the brink. He’d never been scared of death and was much less fearful having already experienced it once. Sometimes the thought of hearing that finally death rung was almost too tempting and he found himself edging towards the end, ready to dive into the abyss only to pull back at the last second.
Sometimes, it wasn’t nearly that extreme. Sometimes those other days were caused by the arthritis in his decaying hands and the stiffness in his back that wouldn’t allow him to do much more than lay on the couch and listen to the television buzz in the background. Sometimes it was migraines thudding at his skull and nothing short of bashing his brains in would stop it. Sometimes it was just being in a world that was too loud and too bright when he was nothing more than a shadow with nowhere to hide.
In all those cases and every one that occurred in between, there was always something to hold him steady and make those “other” days tolerable.
“That bad, huh?”
Gabriel didn’t respond, not when he could barely keep his body together and whole. Even if his mouth and vocal cords weren’t half formed, it would have been too much to speak. It took far too much focus to keep it together even with just lying face down in the bed. The voice above him hardly registered in his ears though he knew it could only be one person.
“Just relax. It’ll pass. It always does,” Jack murmured from somewhere beside him.
Gabriel didn’t notice the hand running down his body at first. His nerve-endings were flickering in and out of existence but every time they jumped back, he could feel the soothing touch of a warm hand down the center of his back, the pressure light and breezy. Jack always had a soothing quality about him, even if he’d turned into a bitter, hard old man.
“That’s it.”
The words were spoken low and full of warmth despite the rough and steely voice behind them. Gabriel melted further into the bed with them.
“You still with me?”
It took more effort than it should for Gabriel to nod his head into the pillow and reply with an affirmative muttering. Belatedly, he added faintly, “But just barely.”
Jack’s other hand found refuge on Gabriel’s head, carding through his hair—or what remained, not much grew through the burnt, petrified skin and thin membrane of scar tissue. Gabriel didn’t know how Jack could handle touching it, how he could act as if Gabriel wasn’t anything other than whole and fine.
“I’ll take barely over nothing,” Jack murmured, his voice closer than before. If Gabriel had the strength, he’d be turning over into Jack’s arms. “I’d selfishly take anything you have left in you.”
How someone could craft words that brought warmth to a dead man’s cold heart must be a sure sign of a greater power. Gabriel never believed in those forces but being brought back from the dead and faced with the love of someone he did not deserve...it was enough to make him at least question otherworldly forces.
“Don’t get sappy, Boyscout,” Gabriel managed to throw out.
“Please,” Jack snorted a laugh, ugly and harsh and still heartwarming as ever. “I could never rival the king of sap himself, Mr. Rose Petals and Stargazing.”
Strength, slowly but surely, was coming back to Gabriel. He turned his head to at least face Jack. In the soft lamp light from the bedside table, Jack looked almost soft despite the scars and large frame.
“It’s called class, Mr. Cheap Beer on the Back of His Daddy’s Busted Truck.”
The crow’s feet around Jack’s eyes wrinkled up as he grinned, teeth slightly crooked from too make punches to the face. “And you were swooning every time.”
“Whatever,” Gabriel grumbled in defeat, hand of mostly flesh slithering out to grab Jack’s wrist and yank him close. “Now let's cuddle like we were hiding out in the family barn or whatever you did for dates, Cornbread.”
Jack let out another horrible snort of laughter as he fell in beside Gabriel, his arms wrapped around Gabriel like a python. “Oh, the barn was for special occasions. Definitely wouldn’t waste that for just cuddling. Too much effort to sneak someone in for that.”
“Oh, shut up, Morrison,” Gabriel found himself grinning back in return, “even if you used the barn for fucking, you couldn’t consider it a success without a cuddle session afterwards.”
Jack more rumbled a laugh than anything else, his chest vibrating against Gabriel in an act that could almost constitute purring. Gabriel relished in it all the same. He’d almost lost this, all of this. He never dreamed he’d one day have it back.
“Sleep, Gabe,” Jack breathed into the crown of his head, the rough stubble of his beard comforting against his half-numb skin.
“You too, Jackie.”
The “other” days clouded the better and life was never going to be sunshine and rainbows. There were always going to be days where Gabriel would fall apart and come close to returning to death’s door. However, Jack would always be there with warm hands soothing the aches in his body, fingers carding through his hair, strong arms that held him together, and a gruff, whispering voice in his ear telling Gabriel it was all okay.
While Gabriel may not have been dealt the best hand, he was always grateful for the trusty Jack in his hand.