Jack Summer

hey hi tag! I'm here to give you the rundown on Jack Summer. I’d also like to link you to:

his actually organized biography page

all headcanon stuff in his “about” tag (there are no actual headcanons yet, I’m a fraud)

(wanted) connections page

our chat or discord alotofalotte#3294 for any more questions or plots or just talks!!

Jack could feel his lungs starting to burn. It was a slow burn, exponentially spreading from his throat to his chest but he knew that he could get past it. He could hold his breath a little longer under water and soon enough he would reach the surface if he just got past this godawful burn. He tried envisioning it... his finger tips slowly touching the surface as he paddled upwards and- ugh, no he couldn’t do this anymore. From sitting criss-cross on the bottom of the water, he launched himself upright and broke through the surface with a lot of coughing and gasping. Looking around to spot a blurry figure, he made a last attempt to swim over to the side, waving his arm in the air as he yelled, “Do you have the time? Quick, quick, read me the time!” Jack sputtered and extended his arm to the other so they could check the watch around his wrist. He couldn’t check himself, still rubbing water from his eyes and letting oxygen find its way to his brain again. But every second mattered.

If it had been almost anyone other than Jack, Maggie would’ve pointed them Chad or Javier’s way. That was the sort of fight she had grown most accustomed to, fists and violence and military training. All of Jack’s fights sounded playful, whimsical almost. She missed that sort of activity and the carefree freedom that had always come with it. 

She gave Jack a deeply amused look. “Taking yoga to the extreme? Going to fight me in dogward dog?” Maggie laughed. “Unless you mean hot yoga, in which I’ll take a hard pass.”

–

Unable to contain himself, Jack was spinning around in the chair in slow circles. Every time he passed by Maggie and there was a smile on her face, the smile on his face grew with. After a while (though it couldn’t have been more than a minute), he lost himself in the spinning and the turning and the resurfacing and made it a game in his head to pull a weird face whenever he passed by. He could hear her replying but it proved hard to listen when he spotted a pencil on the desk and grabbed it to balance it delicately between his upper lip and nose like a literal pencil moustache. 

That was impolite, he realised, sitting up straightly right after the pencil had clattered to the ground. “Yeah, yeah, yoga,” He repeated, trying to recall what had been said in his cluttered mind. “Taking yoga to the extreme would be like, doing the poses on a trampoline or- ohh with your feet not touching the ground or something!” A little glint of excitement over his own clever idea sparkled in his eye. Then he slightly tilted his head to the side, completely genuinely wondering, “The downward dog is the most difficult pose, right?” He would only fight her if it’s fair.

“Man, I could just... fight someone right now.” Jack groaned as he threw his head back over the swivel chair he’d been slowly spinning on. “Foam, tickles, pillows, mud,” He counted on his fingers. “Truly they could pick their weapon - anything! - and I’d be here for it.” All this energy inside of him seemed to be fighting its way out of this chair, out into the open air - it’s only natural that Jack’s instinct was to listen and follow. Albeit nobody’s favourite pastime on a Saturday evening to be his entertainment, which is why he’d hoped to find kindred spirits at the gym. Looking for Maggie specifically, he’d been told to sit and wait cause the way he’d been pacing back and forth could’ve set anyone on edge. Now, he’d made himself a little too comfortable in a desk chair and had settled nicely into a state of complaining. “Seriously, I’m this close to taking yoga to the extreme if it means you’ll join me.” He clapped his hands, earning himself a chuckle. 

Marigold let out a gust of delighted laughter as they talk tigers and lionesses. These kinds of conversations are her favorite, the easy breezy free word association chats that come from the far corners of your mind, all the places you ignore when you’re busy prioritizing the heavy stuff. “Glass jars, I love that. Very eco friendly my friend. I use mason jars for a lot of storage in my fridge but I don’t know why, plastic was always the thing for the pantry in my house. Those real cheap cereal containers and you’d shove the cereal bag inside and then flip open the top. I don’t know why I’m so nostalgic about them.” She let out a whistle as he talks about homemade food from his Grandma. “I’m jealous. I only had 8 years to enjoy super special homemade treats from my Gram, I don’t remember them as vibrantly as I’d like to.” A finger is pressed to her lips and she shakes her head. “I would never rat on you, Jack. Though I think even if I did it wouldn’t crush her the way you think it would. Grandma’s make us food for love and as long as that love gets inside us I don’t think they’re gonna quarrel with the method of ingestion.” 

Another light chuckle. “I guess I found other things I’d rather march for, you know? Saving all my marching energy for if my little one is ever denied something she should have a right to.” Her attention turned to listening intently and following Jack’s instructions as they made their makeshift slingshots. It feels as jovially mischievous as when she and her school friends would sneak notes in class or make those little paper footballs and flick it back and forth every time the teacher had their back turned. It’s harmful rebellion, a minor infraction but enough to give you the tiniest taste of a high. She’s grinning from ear to ear by the time they’re aiming, pulling back the elastic. “Ready…..set…..go!!!” she whisper commanded fiercely. Two m&m’s went soaring. Marigold’s missed the target, though not as terribly as it might have. But Jack’s plopped right onto the older man’s head and he shifted with a snorted grunt. “Oh shit shiiiiit.” Marigold let out a careful squeal and shifted downwards in her seat, laughing and hiding her head against Jack’s shoulder. “Is he awake? Is he??? Or was it a false start?”

Jack didn’t have the heart to correct Marigold that he’d been talking about his aunt rather than a grandma. Other than gushing over his little sister every chance he gets, his home and family situation wasn’t something he discussed frequently. Or at all, to be honest. So he shrugged and just went along with it, “I don’t know, she's never liked it when I play with my food.” The sweet m&ms crunched between his teeth, reminding him that his aunt didn’t quite fancy him on a sugar rush either. Those rules had been established years ago, though they still lived on inside of him as if she’d told him off for it this morning. For better or worse, he discreetly closed the snack bag. “I suppose she considers cooking as one of the many art forms as well. So even the eye wants its part.” His tone was laced with a dramatic flair, followed swiftly by a chuckle. 

After his final munching, Jack rested his chin on one hand on the cozy armchairs. He could probably listen to Marigold’s delightful recounts for days - especially when they shared in his own interests! But then she started talking about marching for her little one and a vague memory dawned on him. He could almost picture Marigold’s family structure in accordance with the online toggling he once must’ve done on her. She already had a child, didn’t she? Gosh, he could hardly believe it considering they were of the same young age. “Right... How is the, uh, little one?” But before the words were fully pushed out, his cinema companion had already launched her first projectile and he quickly had to keep up with her. Giggles fell from his lips as the colourful candy went well on its way. And just like in the movies (literally), his’ followed a perfect archway in slow motion through the air and bam! right on the guy’s head. “Holy f- That was such a good shot!” He shook the blonde by her arm, beaming at her so brightly that she might’ve thought the compliment was meant for her. But then the snoring came to an abrupt halt. Startled coughs replacing them quickly and before Jack could reload his slingshot, a big shadow doomed up. “Ohh, we gotta move. Move! Move! Come on.” From rapidly tapping her on her shoulder to grabbing her hand and guiding her out of there, Jack managed to make them both bolt to the exit. Was it necessary? Probably not. But do you really want to risk pissing off a big guy? In this town? Probably not. 

By the time the fresh air hit his face, Jack couldn’t stop laughing between catching his breath. “B-He- Ohh,” He had to keep himself from bending double. “Just bullseye from the first try! I- I couldn’t- How magnificent.” Soon he finished relishing in this very lucky and very exhilarating victory. Checking around the corner of the spinning doors and being met by an empty hallway, he nodded firmly. “Good. We planned a perfect escape.” Then, he turned back to the blonde, shaking her hand with faked formality. “Miss Nicol, ‘t was a pleasure running into you. Considering the hour, we should part ways, but say hello to the little one for me.” A pause. Just enough time for a sly grin. “Next time I’ll show you what I can do with a light bulb and some Tic Tacs.”

Brandon could not for the life of him gather where Jack managed to muster such enthusiasm for mere day to day life, especially in this town, especially given the circumstances. He was so…downright chipper. It was almost disarming. Brandon blinked, waiting for the real life Disney character before him to calm down a bit before he spoke, quiet and tenuous. “There’s a few people I’d like you to look into…”

He opened his notebook to a random, blank page, and etched a few names into it. They were poor excuses for leads, but Brandon was working with what little he had, and if Jack could manage to turn something over in his searching, even better.

“Just…a standard rundown,” Brandon said, ripping the paper out and sliding it face down across the table with delicacy. “Go over their social medias, see if you can access their financials. Anything suspicious, make a note of.”

He looked up to Jack, then, and nodded once, furtively, as if to reassure him. “Do you think you can do that for me?”

As the sheriff glided the paper across the table so carefully, Jack felt inclined to glance from side to side. Checking if no one overheard or saw him picking it up with a raised eyebrow. Not even in one smooth motion. Rather a cautious slide from the edge of the table, up his chest until it was practically in front of his nose. Only then did he turn the paper - for his eyes only to see.

This sounded like a special task - “standard” be damned. He sure hadn’t done anything like this before. (Not per request by the boss anyway.) “You can trust in me, sir.” After briefly scanning the list of names, Jack clutched the information to his chest like one would guard it with their life. “I can dig deep. Deeper than that time we’d organised a treasure hunt in our garden. Or lost my shoe in a mudslide! I’ll dig as deep as the internet’s ocean of data will let me. And deeper if I have to.” He pointed out, wanting to make clear he would take this very seriously. Go beyond his own capabilities in search of… in search of? “Wait so… Have these people done something bad or something?” He asked in a low whisper.

She shook her head, not fully dismissing the other’s words but knew that things had gone from complicated to worse over the past two years with the separation that was still present despite all her grasping at strings that kept them all tied together. “You don’t know my brothers,” she gently pointed out, because they were more than any file that someone might have read up on them or a newspaper clipping that warned anyone from getting too close to any which one of them. She didn’t need to hear the whispers or notice the stares, because they were constantly in her head or the mirror even when she didn’t leave the house of anything other than her shift down at Fairy Tails. “Though it does seem like there are times when they still haven’t caught on things that aren’t that hard. But I always thought that was me not being more clear than them being oblivious,” she added with a small shrug.

          “It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t want it. I don’t really have much more here right now ‘cause I haven’t gone for groceries in a couple weeks.” So they were practically living on whatever was left in the cupboards and fridge, but there was often enough tea for her on the long nights when she couldn’t find comfort in anything else as she watched him for a moment. “I can still get you a glass of water. Just.. tea usually helps me when I can’t seem to catch up to the rest of me,” she admitted softly, her brow furrowed as she glanced down at her own cup and raised it up towards her lips as she blew to cool it off. “They do if they can’t handle it when it’s hot or don’t have the patience to wait for it to cool.” Though his second comment had her shaking her head, if only to mask the hint of a smile at his terrible attempt to make either one of them smile or laugh.

Danielle glanced up from her cup back at him. “Or experience. Though I hate running so you can decide for yourself what I do to try and relax.” Because she wasn’t about to share that with him or anyone that was associated with the same type of people that would take her from her family again if she slipped up worse than a pocket that was picked or some customer at the club that didn’t need his entire paycheck after a private dance or two. They were of sound mind and body when they entered, it wasn’t her fault that the same couldn’t be said by the time they left again as she lowered her mug without taking a sip. “You’re not… alone, whatever is happening out there isn’t going away.” Not when it seemed to keep getting closer but she couldn’t imagine seeing Madison again like they had that night. “But what happened there, stayed there, right?”

"You're right, I'm sorry," Jack started to apologize. "I don't know your brothers." It was all too easy to preach about restorative justice for Danielle and somehow disregard her brothers, not granting them the same forgiveness for their actions. But in Jack's mind, the two had pulled their sister with them in their downfall rather than protecting her from their crimes - a first impression that proved hard to move past. "Maybe some day I'll get to hear from them." He offered her a weak shrug in return, not fully convinced by his own words. Though he did smile more genuinely when adding, "And then maybe we can all learn a little from our little sisters." 

The cup felt warm against the inside of his palm. It was soothing, in a way blankets fresh from the tumble dryer were soothing. He wrapped his hands around it further. The silence with which he filled the space felt more comfortable now, though it apparently didn’t go unnoticed. “No, no, it’s not that.. don’t worry about the tea. I didn’t tell you I was coming and I don’t expect you to get me anything even if I had given you a heads up anyways, especially not with this weird weather out so- this is absolutely fine.” To prove it, he brought the cup to his lips for a sip. It smelled as sweet and damp as hot chocolate would’ve, a little more fruity maybe but it tasted just fine all the same. Jack’s loud mmmm! that followed probably sounded a bit exaggerated but he couldn’t help it - having gone through rehearsing and perfecting the perfect reply to those fake tea parties back in the old days. The memories tasted just as sweet as his second sip. “Sounds like your ways work wonders for you. I hope they’ll do the same for me.”

This poor, poor boy. He was already getting corrupted by Tyler. Daniel’s anger switched to pity like one flipped a light switch. His anger was now directed entirely at Tyler. He knew where he got the money to pay for the coffee – it was the money Tyler owed Daniel. Jack was just trying to be a nice guy. There was no way he could fault him for that. He immediately softened, his arms and shoulders dropping. “Tyler is a crook. He wants to make my life as hard as possible, and you shouldn’t trust him in the future,” he warned. He even smiled a bit that Jack was trying to bond with him. He was trying and that was exactly why Daniel needed to keep him away from Tyler. 

“Were you thinking about committing a crime?” He did give himself a mental pat on the pack for getting to the bottom of this. It was the small victories, which he really, really needed right now as he had yet to make substantial ones as of late. It was relieving that he no longer had to worry about pointless, strange emails popping up in his inbox. It was insignificant, but it was one less thing for him to be concerned about. “All is forgiven, Jack. You don’t need to apologize for trying to have some fun.” He didn’t want to crush his spirit. 

"Wow really?" The gasp was hard to suppress and Jack hardly hid the impact the word ‘crook’ had on him. It seemed like such a definitive label. Despite Tyler having been so open and (seemingly?) honest to put all of Jack’s inquisitiveness to rest, it never really occurred to him the guy may have been real trouble. A wastrel, yes, that’s what he’d called himself. But that didn’t seem like a fault that should be a good reason to put someone behind bars - not until the detective in front of Jack had made it ought to be one anyway. "He seemed like such a nice guy. When I asked why something was amiss between the two of you that made him want to pull this prank, he even briefly argued in your defense and I was like wow. I think it was... something along the lines of you having just done your job?” He tried his best to recall. “ And I mean, he seemed so trustworthy that I didn't even think to look him up in the system.” 

A wink. He winked. He winked at her. Wendy wasn’t sure if this was real life or just a dream merging with reality. Slightly pinching herself but where he couldn’t see, she confirmed that this was real life. He winked at her— though to sell his joke rather than actually winking at her. But it was still a wink and he listened to her. Let her go on and on about her jobs without interrupting. He actually heard her or at least that was how it felt. She felt heard and listened to rather than ignored. She constantly felt like things were being hidden from her— that she was alone which was she started to slowly act out. But right now? She felt happy. “Um yeah,l she nodded. Slightly recovering from him mentioning her smile. Wanting her smile back. Was he flirting? Just being nice? Gosh, she hoped he wasn’t just being nice to her cause she was friends with Alice but that was likely it. “So I opened my own store where I sell garments that I’ve designed myself on Etsy. But Pinterest just has a lot of good and free information about running an Etsy store— so I found a lot of good articles and posts about running a successful Etsy store and tried to follow what they suggested. So Pinterest was just a resource I used to build my own store. It is actually pretty successful. Keeps me up at night— fulfilling orders.”

It didn’t take long for his bite to be ready. Jack’s lunch hour was always taken at odd hours to avoid being gone at a busy times during the day. Luck had it that meant avoiding rush hours. With a smile he ordered his favourite before turning back to the brunette. “Oh yeah! I think I’ve heard you girls talk about that.” Then a short pause as he placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry I don’t eavesdrop on the both of you... unless it’s about me.” He chuckled, not realizing his attempt at reassuring her in a playful manner held more truth than he figured. Jack began to understand the ins and outs of her story better as she repeated it. He thought so anyway. "But so what it all comes to with these Etsies and bitsies, is that you work at two stores now? Like, helping at Isabelle's and running your own one? Wow." That seemed a lot, even for the guy who was known to clock in more time behind the computer than got asked of him. It was an impressive feat but with a more pressing thought on his mind, Jack's compliments got cast aside. "How do you still find time for any fun, Wendy?" His eyes stood wide with genuine curiosity and a tad hint of a frown that could settle in depending on her reply. Though he didn’t grant her much time to give one. Seeing a window of opportunity, he piped up, “You should come over more often! Make the most of your long nights then- well, the breaks that take place inbetween your work anyway.” God knows showing her funny cat videos would help distract him from sleepless nights - but this was not about him. And perhaps coming by so late was a bit too much to ask of her. “Or chat or something. I’m usually up when others are still asleep for example and you’ve got my number right?”

Brandon’s eyes just barely lifted themselves to the figure, and, with such little effort, he could already ascertain who stood before him just by rambling alone. He knew Jack, of course, though not particularly well; he had always inferred that he struck some kind of fear in the kid, a fact he was, frankly, somewhat amused by. And yet here he was, suggesting he could help by…typing things up. Brandon peered at him, taking a sip of his coffee, trying to formulate a response beyond an outright scoff, and then set his mug down.

“Typing things up.” He repeated, with a small nod. “That’ll be a great help to me, yes. Thank you.”

If Jack couldn’t hear the sarcasm dripping from Brandon’s words, he was, officially, a lost cause.

“I don’t need you to type things up for me, Summer.” He continued, exasperated–and unafraid of letting his tone show as much. “We have secretaries for that.”

Pushing his notebook closed, Brandon gave Jack his full attention for however briefly a moment, looking at him with curiousity. “There are a couple of things I’d like your help with, assuming they’re within your range of capabilities.” A couple of people, he meant to say, but didn’t feel that this was the place. “Do you think you could do that for me?”

It was a good thing the Sheriff did enough talking to keep Jack from interrupting cause the jittery guy would’ve just stood there, mouth half agape while his brain would be racking for a better response than his first one. Even he could spot the other’s tone wasn’t quite sincere - though the confirmation that his help was not wanted helped greatly, not gonna lie. “Gotcha, yes, of course. It wasn’t a good thought yet, I- I shouldn’t have a shared a, uh, half thought out loud.” No one needed to hear the word ‘sorry’ right now to know Jack was. 

There’s a bile and moldering sting in his mouth and he doesn’t know if he should induce vomiting or try and swallow it all and hope that it would eventually disappear. He reached to one of his pockets, hoping to find his flask. Thankfully, it’s still there and so he open it and brings it to his lips. The splash of whiskey is not strong enough to hide the taste of bile, but it helps some. For that, he’s grateful. The guy who tried to help him looks fine, he even admits to be fine, and yet there is something about his face that seems a little off. Perhaps it’s the bruised ego. Honestly he should be glad that it was the only thing that got damaged. Felix was half expecting Hector to turn against him for meddling. ❛ Me? Nah - I’m fine. This is nothing. ❜ He’s had it a lot worse. Sure, his arm is a little sore but he’ll live. Then the guy spoke again and said something so moronic that makes Felix chuckle, which in return, caused him to groan in pain.  ❛ That’s funny ❜ Oh but the guy was not joking, was he?  ❛ Wait, you’re serious? Dude, this is not a comic book. Be glad that he’s gone and he didn’t - you know, kill us? Guy has a serious temper, not to mention the fact that he’s always armed. ❜ When he looks behind him he notices the car and shrugs.  ❛ Nope, not mine. But I’m pretty sure I can hotwire it. Hold up, are you suggesting we run him over? ❜

It surprises Jack a little to look and find the first thing on the guy’s mind is to fill up on booze. If someone had forced him to empty his pockets, he wouldn’t empty a bottle next- to what? Celebrate? “I don’t think drinking the alcohol will clean up any cuts and bruises, or yourself, but if you say you’re fine…” Jack sounded a little more agitated than usual but he raised his hands in defeat. He didn’t plan on treating himself to anything other than a warm shower tonight either, anyway - bruises be damned. A little frown settled in however, when trying to process that a) he seemed more fazed than the other because b) this hadn’t been a chance encounter with the money-bagging crook and c) this was considered ‘getting off easy’. Staying alive, that is.

“Pff armed.” Jack rolled his eyes with a ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’-attitude. More driven by all this laughter thrown at him tonight than his own naivety. “The most you’re legally allowed to be armed with is like, pepper spray or a pocket knife,” of which he carried both. “and even if he’s got a permit or isn’t much of a stickler for the rules... Why would he kill you? To me, it sounded like you were worth more to him alive than dead anyways so that would’ve been a dumb move.” Though he’d seen dumber things happen over green paper. It may have been a bit of bluff on Jack’s side to assume this Hector-persona had been bluffing but they were still standing there, mostly unscathed, weren’t they? “If I were you, I would just wanna get ahead on the threat, perhaps prevent it from happening, is all I’m saying,” His eyes lingered on the car same as Felix, but at the mention of hotwiring it and running someone over, his heart started racing for different reasons. This was above his paycheck. He shook his head, quieter now that his reckless passion made the slightest room for reason. “but no, no, that’s probably not a good idea man. Even if it’d be for the greater good, I don’t think detective Crock would be able to get us off the hook for that one. Let alone wanna work with me, for that matter.” Jack explained more and more to himself than the other. Slipping into a pensive state, he thought out loud, “Man, if only there was a way to get rid of a problem without causing more problems.”

The cheeky retort, while unexpected, caused a bright, beaming grin to take root across Madelaine’s features. It wasn’t often she met people who were so ready and willing to go along with her and her antics. It was exciting! “Oh, good question. Both!” He was teasing, she knew, but still. What could be gleaned from her self-inflicted mess? She couldn’t help but be curious.

“Really?” she asked at the seemingly simple answer, unable to help herself or quell the laughter that bubbled to the surface. “That’s brilliant.” And it was. Taking the pad back, she stared at her drawing in a new, appreciative light. Yeah, she could totally see the cloud now. There was so much more she could work with that. “Thank you! You’re a saint!” However, at his prompting, she couldn’t deny him or the chance for some new insight when it was so readily available. 

Flipping to one of her many unfinished pages toward the front, she angled the paper back to the boy to show him with an inquisitive brow. “How about this one? You up to the challenge?”  

His smile beamed back at her, yet he slightly raised an eyebrow. Jack hadn’t expected her to answer both - girls preferred not to be judged by their looks, he believed, and even to him it had seemed obvious her question pertained to her sketchpad. But if she wanted his honest opinion, he would give it to her. “Well, what I can tell from the charcoal on your skin is… that you must know exactly how to have fun because it looks like you were about to start an epic game of tic-tac-toe.” He said, giving the lightest tap against her marked cheek. “Adding a whole new dimension to the words ‘travel edition’ too while you’re at it.”

The million dollar question to Jack would always be whether he is right. But today, he would settle for being brilliant. Delighted with his own answer and the reaction it’d brought forth, he pulled his jacket’s collar a tad more straight. “Damn right, I am.” Then, like a true scholar, placed one hand on his chin and a pensive frown on his forehead - a true thinking face. “Oh see now that- that is something else entirely. That’s a shadow right there.” And as his index finger traced the outline of the paper from a safe distance, his focus on victory shifted to make room for imagination. “And I don’t know if you’ve given it a name already but I would dare to say it shares a resemblance to the fae folk. In which case you have to name it carefully, of course.” He said almost matter-of-factly. Perhaps it was the way this girl so excitedly reacted or maybe even because of her superficial similarities with his sister, but Jack felt understood.

It was an odd sort of feeling, to be the one that was seemingly attempting to keep the acts straight between what had happened and what had been planned to happen. Danielle couldn’t see the other having planned anything of the sort that they’d gone through, or the coming of the mist that took over the same space they’d been at the weekend before. “You didn’t,” she seconded with a nod even as her back was towards him throughout the thought as she finished the tea for the two of them.

Granted, what had happened was something that Danielle wasn’t so sure was even real or had been a side effect of what others were experiencing now that the fog rolled in and took over more of the town. She wanted to think so, only because it was a better explanation than believing what they’d seen that night. It stuck with her, longer than she was willing to put into words out of the pure fear that she’d end up seeing things again. “It’s never a boring day with him around,” she admitted, despite the tension felt by the simple fact that she often couldn’t keep tabs on her older brother and never knew if he was getting into trouble without her or not. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean anything by it and you’re not wrong, it’s been long overdue to have him back around again but there are plenty of times when it feels like he’s still kinda gone.”

It wasn’t his fault, not with what happened to all of them where it felt like there were more ghosts between them all than any which one of them were willing to admit as Danielle often struggled and lost to her own. Her hands wrapped around the warm mug as she breathed on it softly to try and cool the tea. “If it’s too hot, I can get you an ice cube or two.” While she preferred to feel the warmth burn the tip of her tongue at times like this, it wasn’t always the case for others and she knew it. She cocked her head to the side, a furrowed look on her brow at the other’s words as if he were experiencing what they’d both seen in the cabin still which was – hard to believe, if she hadn’t been there. “If you want something a bit stronger than tea, I can get that for you too,” she spoke up finally, not sure if it was a good idea or not but these were strange times when she’d been the one to invite him in rather than the other way around.

        “It’s not always so easy as to just say that you’re going to relax and actually do it. Everyone needs helps whether they can admit it or not.” She was guilty of that on more than one occasion, especially where the other was concerned. “Running sounds healthier anyways.”

Jack knew that feeling all too well. There was no such thing as a boring day with his sister around either. In his case that luckily meant almost every day. “Maybe if,” His eyes found Danielle’s, trying to check he was not crossing the line by talking about her brother. “you tell him that you miss him, he’ll stick around more.” Or take you with him but Jack was needless to say a little weary of the Mason brothers and their whereabouts so he kept that part to himself. Last thing he wanted was to encourage them to drag Danielle down in their fall again. Though he believed she was smart enough to stand her ground, he also understood it was hard to keep your guard around family. “You didn’t hear it from me but us brothers are a little slower than you girls, you know. You’re used to thinking three steps ahead, sometimes you need to press pause and spell it out for us.” Jack offered her a little grin with his advice.

In order to stay polite, Jack didn’t admit he was not a tea-drinker while the hot, freshly-brewed cup stood in front of him. He even managed to not turn up his nose at the unknown beverage - a skill he’d developed during the imaginary tea parties he’d partaken in as a kid where the cups were usually filled with brook water. At least he wouldn’t have to look out for mud or tiny fish this time. “No, no, can’t really afford to not keep a clear head these days, you know? This tea is all good, thanks. Do people really put ice cubes in there though?” He’d never heard of such thing but his next thought made it sound believable. “Does that make it an ice tea then?” The slightest tug at the corner of his mouth gave away he’d found back his (own particular) sense of humour.