wash

TheEternalEmpress: "How about some angsty jasicos?"

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thank you for the request !!!! this is my i guess third time writing angst? but i went all out on this one cause i was bored in the car. i hope you enjoy !!

! Major Character Death !

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"Does it hurt when you wash it?"

"No, no it doesn't," Jason said. "It only hurts when I think about it."

The much-faded aviator jacket has various holes and scuffs on it, but Jason will wash it. He will wash it until the feelings go away, and then he will keep it tucked away safely in his closet next to the rest of his clothes.

He washes his other clothes too. All the shirts, all the pants, all the socks with missing matches are thrown in the wash. But his jacket is very different.

Jason can run his fingers up the sleeves and imagine the boy who wore it. Jason can still thumb over the holes and remember where they came from, be it a run in with monsters, a sword fight, or a general disregard for the state of his well-being. Jason can still play with the buttons that threatened to fall out and remember the huffs of annoyance from him when Jason would tug too harshly. Jason can still remember the ghosts of smiles and the thin, chapped lips that would touch his own tentatively, and the sound of his laughter when Jason would tickle him with no remorse. Jason can still remember his messy, soft, black hair and how it would frame his face, and the scowl he would get whenever it fell in his eyes.

Every glance, every touch, every wash, and the memories come back. Jason will never escape it, but he knows that one day, it will be more bearable. Soon, he will be able to run his fingers up the sleeves, thumb over the holes, and play with the buttons without crying. He'll be able to remember him without wanting to break down and rip his own heart out.

Jason will hold the jacket to his chest before putting it in the washing machine. He'll remember thin fingers caressing his cheeks lovingly. He'll remember those same fingers playing with his hair on one of their "off-days." He'll remember how shy those hands were and how they would grasp his slowly, becoming more confident with every passing second. They will lay dormant in his mind until his lungs give out.

Eventually, Jason will have to wash it by hand. The scent will be long gone, and the buttons will be ripped out, and the holes will get bigger, but he will wash it. He will wash this jacket and pretend that he isn't really gone. He will wash this jacket and he will make dinner for two, even though he lives alone. He will wash this jacket, and after he eats and puts the leftovers away, he will fluff both of the pillows and leave the door unlocked in case he decides he wants to come home.

Jason will hang up the jacket by the door because he knows he would never leave without it. He will come in through the door and scold Jason for letting him forget it, and then he will leave and come back later in the day.

When Jason washes it again, he will remember the trembling of thin, chapped lips that tasted of blood when they touched his tentatively. When Jason washes it again, he will remember the pained cries as he held him close. When Jason washes it, he will remember his messy, soft, black hair caked with blood and dirt and how it framed his face, and the scowl he got when it fell in his eyes.

Jason will scrub the dirt and the pain off the jacket. He will remember the thin fingers that caressed his cheeks and told him to leave him. He will remember those same fingers losing their hold on his hair. He will remember those shy hands clutching his desperately, pleading that Jason won't forget him.

The jacket will be clutched between shaky hands, and Jason will curse and plead and try his best to bargain with the gods to bring him back. He knows they won't listen. He knows they will scoff at him. He knows that even down below, in the deepest part of the underworld, his father will shake his head at Jason's futile attempts.

The jacket will be placed in the closet next to all of his clothes. It will know of love and pain. It will know of their first hug, their first kiss, their first real date ( "Because, Jason, walking me to my cabin does not count as a date "). It will know of the first time they slept in the same bed, the first time they shared breakfast together, and the first time they had a fight. It will know of the many grueling days of battling monsters and putting up with an insufferable parent.

The much-faded aviator jacket has various holes and scuffs on it, but Jason will gaze at it lovingly and remember the boy who stole his heart.

"Does it hurt when you wash it?"

"Yes, yes it does," Jason said. "But I'm learning to let go."