[ jack's been driving for over ten hours without more of a break than pulling over to piss, seeing as he's the only one on the team that has driver access to his rover, but the caravan is finally taking a stop to stretch legs, nap, do whatever. he'd been thinking about d'artagnan and the couple of fights they'd had, one after the other, of late. it didn't escape him that, not only had d'artagnan not come to check on him at the RV point (usually he's the first in line to grab jack's face and mother hen him, just behind michelle), but he's been avoiding him for the entirity of the drive.
which, had, at first, made him pissed. because he is jack and nothing is ever his fault, it's always someone else being ridiculous, not him. for a few hours, he stewed in that, possibly hitting every rock and tree on his way just to jostle the back of the rover in a passive aggressive kind of bitterness for it. the next few hours after that, when he ran out of rationalizations to avoid the 'so i'm acting like a child' truth, it eventually waited out his petulance and became too clear not to admit to. after that? depression. loneliness. a bit of self-loathing. for god sake, he'd punched d'artagnan before and still hadn't gotten the cold shoulder from him then. how huge of an asshole had he been that he's now not even acknowledging jack's existence.
of course, it's not like jack had gone out of his way to approach him. he typically doesn't, with people. the default of his life had been 'they come to me, or they wait until i send someone else to order them here'. not that he hadn't gone to hang out with him on occassion, but more often than not, d'artagnan was the one who actually stood by accepted behavior of 'friend'. not that jack is incredibly well versed in what that's supposed to mean anyway.
so, once the rover pulls to a halt in a clear, and jack makes a loud groaning sound as he stands up from the drivers seat, stretching cramped legs, he's resigned to go find d'artagnan and... do something. tell him to hit him, maybe? let him tell him how big of a prick he is? make him a little bouquet of flowers? however this is supposed to go. which, is another issue. how is this supposed to go? that's an issue, and jack takes a side trip to the bathroom to... fix his hair. brush his teeth? various inconsequential things that gave him time to think about it. however, he still came up with about the same: who fucking knows? with a huff (and perfect hair and perfect teeth and smelling like a GQ model), he's stepping out and heading straight for where d'artagnan is resting.
first day of mapping; action
which, had, at first, made him pissed. because he is jack and nothing is ever his fault, it's always someone else being ridiculous, not him. for a few hours, he stewed in that, possibly hitting every rock and tree on his way just to jostle the back of the rover in a passive aggressive kind of bitterness for it. the next few hours after that, when he ran out of rationalizations to avoid the 'so i'm acting like a child' truth, it eventually waited out his petulance and became too clear not to admit to. after that? depression. loneliness. a bit of self-loathing. for god sake, he'd punched d'artagnan before and still hadn't gotten the cold shoulder from him then. how huge of an asshole had he been that he's now not even acknowledging jack's existence.
of course, it's not like jack had gone out of his way to approach him. he typically doesn't, with people. the default of his life had been 'they come to me, or they wait until i send someone else to order them here'. not that he hadn't gone to hang out with him on occassion, but more often than not, d'artagnan was the one who actually stood by accepted behavior of 'friend'. not that jack is incredibly well versed in what that's supposed to mean anyway.
so, once the rover pulls to a halt in a clear, and jack makes a loud groaning sound as he stands up from the drivers seat, stretching cramped legs, he's resigned to go find d'artagnan and... do something. tell him to hit him, maybe? let him tell him how big of a prick he is? make him a little bouquet of flowers? however this is supposed to go. which, is another issue. how is this supposed to go? that's an issue, and jack takes a side trip to the bathroom to... fix his hair. brush his teeth? various inconsequential things that gave him time to think about it. however, he still came up with about the same: who fucking knows? with a huff (and perfect hair and perfect teeth and smelling like a GQ model), he's stepping out and heading straight for where d'artagnan is resting.
stops about four feet in front of him.
stares. ]
Hey.