Chapter Text
Angela rushes into the waiting room, breathless, her shirt covered in coffee and her hair in a mess. Her mother doesn’t seem to care though, the minute she sees her she’s captured in her tight grip, her mother’s arms twitching slightly as they squeeze.
“Mom.” Is all she can manage, all she can afford to say.
Her mom huffs, soft and irritated. As to be expected, she’s been in this crazy hospital overnight. “You’re covered in coffee.” She’s not surprised. Why would she be?
“Yeah. I was, the drive.” She’s babbling, grasping for support. “Where’s Jack?”
“Not here yet, caught in traffic.”
“I’ll call him.”
“He’s in traffic Ang-” But her mom seems relieved at the idea, which is all the push she needs.
“I’ll call him mom.” Angela squeezes her mom’s hand, tight, tight enough to hurt. With the other hand she dials, fingers shaking.
Jack picks up second ring, which never happens.
“I’m on my way, I promise, there’s just traffic.”
Angela swallows. He’s scared.
Her mom leans into the phone, and speaks too loud. “Hey Jackie.”
“Mom, I’m like, twenty minutes away.” He says. He’s bargaining with her. As if she holds the cards here. If only she did.
“I know. We’re just in the waiting room. Your father’s in surgery. They’re doing everything they can.”
“I’ll get coffee. I’ll get something, do you need anything?” Jack curses, and Angela laughs.
“Get here already, forget the coffee.” “She answers. “You’re cutting it close as it is.”
“Angela Giaratana.” Her mother chides, holding her heart. But Jack’s laughing and so is she. They’ve got this. They’re winning grief. One chuckle at a time.
Her Mother’s lecturing now, about being an older sister, but she can’t make herself care. That’s good. That’s mom. She wants it to be treated like a kid again, for Mom to take charge and just fix it. But she looks at her Mom and she knows that she’s struggling. Their legs swing under the chairs. Her father would always look at them both exasperated.
“It’s like you’re connected by a string.” He would say sarcastically.
Would?
Jesus, he’s not in the ground yet.
Yet.
Angela springs up, tugging on her Mom’s hand. “Let’s walk around, I hate waiting.”
“They won’t be able to get us-”
“Sure they will!” Angela runs over to the reception desk. “My mom and I are going to stretch our legs. Just around the corridor.”
The receptionist gives her a pitying look. Good, she needs her pity. “Sure hon. I’ll come and get you if I hear anything.”
“Thank you.” Angela grabs her Mom’s hand. “See? All set, let’s go.”
She frowns, but lets Angela pull her along, talking a mile a minute. Filling the space with anything she can think of. Work shenanigans, new acting opportunities, Spork's treatments.
“I’m thinking maybe I’ll get a real plant, liven up the place.”
“That’s nice honey.” Mom murmurs.
“Right? Yeah it is nice. I don’t know much about plants, and I’d need to get one that won’t be lethal to Spork. Remember when I lost the class hamster? How did you ever trust me to babysit Jack when I lost the hamster on the way home from school?”
“...Well you were checking on him. Your heart was in the right place.” Her mother says after a minute. She pauses again. Then. “Your brother’s a little smarter than a hamster.”
“But not by much.”
“Angela!”
“Well-”
“Mrs. Giarratana. And Daughter?”
They both turn. A nurse is standing behind them, clipboard in hand. “John is out of surgery. I think it would be best if you both speak to him now.”
“Shouldn’t he rest first?” Angela says, blinking.
The nurse sighs, gripping the clipboard a little tighter. “We don’t think he’s going to get much more time than this.” He’s trying so hard to be nice about it but it cuts them all the same.
“Well.” Her mother swallows and adjusts her glasses. “Well I suppose you’d better let us see him then.”
“Of course ma’am. Right this way.”
They’re rushed through corridors of whispered commiserating. There’s a baby crying. Someone’s vacuuming. Angela closes her eyes and just lets her mom pull her along. She bumps into her mom as she stops.
“It’s loud in here, huh.” It’s wheezier than usual. But she’d know that voice anywhere.
“Daddy.” She runs to him, grabbing him as tightly as she can.
“Angela he’s fragile.” Her mother tries.
But he can’t be. He’s her dad. He’s so strong, he can’t be fragile. Her voice comes out shaky, demanding. “I don’t want you to go.” She sound childish and stupid, but she doesn’t care. “Dad I can’t do this if you’re gone.”
He wheezes, or laughed. Hard to tell. He strokes her head. “Bug, you know I can’t fix this one.”
“But you have to.”
“I wish I could. Now listen to me, just this once. Eyes on me.”
She tries, focuses on him. He looks so weak. So tired. He’s hooked up to so much stuff.
He smiles. “There we go. Now I need you to do some things for me, alright?”
She nods.
“Thank you.” He sighs. “This whole family acts like squirrels. Where’s Jack?”
“Traffic.”
“Of course.” Shakes his head. Winces. Shaking his head hurt. “I need you to keep acting. You’re a funny kid. I don’t want you to stop just because I’m not around. Besides, I’ll be watching from below.”
“John!”
He laughs, breathless but wry all the same. “Joking, joking Deb. Jeez. But you’re not to stop. Take a break, take some time. But don’t quit.”
“Ok.”
“And play highway to hell at my funeral. Have a drink. You know, make it a day.”
“I don’t think they’ll let me drink in a church.”
“Only if you get caught.”
“Dad.”
“What? Have a drink! They’re not going to stop you.”
“God won’t like it.”
“God's never stopped me.”
While she’s reeling from that line, he claps her on the shoulder. “Would you mind letting me talk to Mom for a sec? I want to make sure we’re clear on some things.”
“Yeah. Ok.” She wipes her eyes. “Dad I- I love you.”
“Fucking hope so.” He scoffs. “I love you too Bug. Now go call your brother.”
She peels herself off him and walks out. The door closes behind her, and she paces, guarding the door. She redials.
“Ang I’m parking-”
“Hurry up!” She barks. “Jack he’s not-he’s-” She says, covering her eyes. “You need to hurry up, you’re not going to get a chance to say goodbye.”
“Wha-” Jack hangs up before he’s even gotten a chance to finish his own sentence. She goes back to pacing, clutching the phone like a lifeline. Biting her nails. She draws blood. The iron tastes funny on her tongue, and she spits it out on the white tiles.
Jack is running up, holding about ten different useless items. They both scramble for the door, and it doesn’t give.
It’s locked.
Angela bangs on the door. “Mom Jack’s here. Mom?”
A sigh.
A sniffle.
The door clicks, and Angela nearly bowls her mom over. “Goddamit Angela!” She grabs her and rights them both. He’s gone.” She looks at Jack. “He’s gone, you were too late Jack.”
Jack goes white. “No. No, he’s, I have to say goodbye, he can’t-” He drops all of the stuff, rushing in the room. “Dad? Dad?”
Angela looks at her Mom. “You locked the door.” It was not a question. They both stand there, guns in her holsters. Angela’s hand gripping hers.
Her Mom puts her hands up, “He asked me to Ang. He didn’t want you to see him go. Your father’s last request.”
“But I wanted to.” She presses. “That’s not fair!”
“Nothing is fair.” Her Mother sighs.
Angela grits her teeth. “Ok. Ok so he’s just gone. He’s gone.”
“Well you’re welcome to go in and check!” Her Mom cracks. “Go on then!”
“Fine!” She marches again.
Jack is clutching their father’s lifeless body, crying into him. Her father hangs there limply. His eyes are open, dull and glassy. He-it smells. Angela takes in the scene. Shocked.
“I’m sorry, sorry sorry. I’m sorry dad, there was traffic, I didn’t mean to miss it.” Jack shakes him, and their poor father ragdolls. “I’m sorry Dad, wake up please. Dad?” His voice has gone high and off colour.
“Jack you’re going to break him!” Angela manages at last. “Let go!”
Jack can’t seem to hear her, he’s crying too hard, unable to look away.
Jesus. Angela grabs hold of her brother’s wrists. He’s strong, but her grip is tight. They struggle, but she manages to wrench him away from their father. “Control yourself!”
“Shut up!” Jack cries, throwing a weak punch.
Angela kicks him in the shin hard.
“You shut up! God.”
“Enough!”
The siblings paused, Jack gripping Angela’s hair, Angela pulling on his collar. They both look at their mother, and a horrified nurse.
“You two are not going to embarrass me. Go cool off outside. Now.” It wasn’t an ask.
Angela lets go of his shirt.
Jack tugs on her hair before moving away, tucking his hands into his pockets as he follows her outside. It’s cool out, mid Autumn. The leaves of the hospital garden are copper-coloured, crunchy beneath their feet. Jack pulls out a flask, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He takes a swig, clutching the stone bench like it’s going to fall out from under him.
Angela sits on the grass, nails dug into the dirt. She sucks in a breath, trying to focus on the scenery and not her annoying ass little brother. But he keeps crying and she reluctantly digs around in her pockets, pulling out a packet of tissues. She throws them at him.
“The hell!”
“Clean yourself up.” It’s softer than she wants it to be. But she’s too depleted to argue anymore.
“God, you act like a toddler.” Jack grumbles, but he picks up the tissues and wipes his eyes.
Angela squeezes her eyes shut, digging her hands in deeper. There’s too much going on. It’s all just so much, she needs friction. Maybe she can get Jack to punch her again or something. She just needs something.
Her phone buzzes. Thank god. She wipes her hand on her pants. Work email? Party invitation? Dry tinder message? She’d take whatever at this point.
No, the best thing possible.
Amanda’s calling.
Angela clears her throat, picking up. “Hey.” There, sounds normal. Jack eyes her, taking another sip of his flask.
“Ang, you won’t believe this bullshit.” Amanda huffs. “I went to go help my sister move and she’s being so fussy about everything. Like, I drive 4 hours for you to tell me not to drop your fragile boxes? Fucking duh. They’re labeled and everything! Does she have to treat me like a child all the time? I’m the youngest, I'm not an idiot.”
“Yeah that’s so true.” Angela can’t make herself give two shits about this, but hearing Amanda just be so normal,so wonderfully Amanda, makes her smile. How does she do that to her? Just be so normal and crazy and awesome all at once.
“And her stupid fiance’s on my ass as well! Like, Bell’s a bitch, but she’s allowed to be a bitch, she’s my sister. You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not family yet.”
“They’re engaged.” Angela hums, making a grabbing motion at Jack. He gives her a look, but passes her the flask. “He’s going to be family soon enough no?”
“There’s no way they’re going to last.” Amanda sighs. “That sounds awful, but you know what I mean. She’s so committed and he’s just...there!”
“Committed?”
“...I think he’s seeing someone else.”
“No. What? How do you know?” Angela takes a swig and nearly spits it out. Is this moonshine? What the hell is this? She glares at her brother, flipping him off. Bastard.
“I don’t have any proof yet. But the way he acts, the way he’s always on his phone. Something about how disconnected he is makes me think he’s seeing someone else.” There’s a pause. “I could be wrong.”
“You should go through his phone.” Jack calls out into the phone.
Angela kicks him. “Jack’s here, sorry. He doesn’t know how to read the room.”
But Amanda just laughs. “You know Jack? I thought about it. But then if I found anything, I’d have to tell them how I found it and she’d be mad at me for invading their privacy.”
“That’s bullshit.” Angela snorts.
“True. Death row.” Jack adds. “We can come kill him tomorrow.”
“I might have to take you up on that if they keep ordering me around. Where are you Ang? What are you up to?”
Angela takes another swig of the flask. Still gross. “Family dinner thing. Jack and I are bunking off.” The lie comes so easily, just as they have been for the past couple months.
“How’s that going?”
“....Messy. I don’t really want to talk about it.” Angela stares at Jack, guilt-ridden. He raises an eyebrow at her. She looks away.
“Oh. Yeah of course.”
“Keep telling me about Bella’s fiance. What’s his name?”
“Tyler. He’s awful.”
Angela closes her eyes, exhaling. “Perfect.”