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It was a series of half-cryptic texts that brought Kavinsky away from work--it was slow today, for once--and over to High Gate Terrace to see Jack. He had not been specifically invited, which settled some guilt in his stomach; the last time he'd come over uninvited and unannounced had gone understandably poorly. But he hadn't been drinking, and he wasn't feeling manic, so it wasn't a bad day to swing by and see why Jack was being cryptic and evasive.

He took the stairs, just to doubly wear himself down of any nervous energy in his bones. When he got to the door, he knocked, pulling out his phone to look at the texts from Jack again, and to send one along to Newt so that he knew where he was.

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When Kavinsky knocks, Jack opens the door almost immediately. His face is tear-streaked, recently washed, his hair rumpled across his forehead. He scrubs his hands across his face.

"Hey, man," he says, stepping in and slipping his arm around Kavinsky's shoulder, pressing his face, briefly, into the crook of his neck.

"Hey--whoa, hey." Kavinsky was immediately on alert, of Jack was going to look that wrecked and need contact that quickly. He wrapped an arm gently around his waist, holding him close and nuzzling, just as briefly as Jack did, at his nose.

"What's up? C'mon, lemme in, I'll make you tea or some shit. You can tell me what's goin' on." He worried, insanely, that it was something to do with Poison. What else would make Jack this much of a wreck? School was stressful, but not like this, not that Kavinsky had seen Jack wear. He didn't like the twist in his stomach that Jack might be hurting.

"Poison went out to get her some things," says Jack, finally giving up his grip on Kavinsky enough to let him into the apartment. "And she took a bath and now she's sleeping." He draws in a slightly ragged breath and tries to calm himself. "Jillie's here."

As with seeing his tears, for a moment Kavinsky didn't know what to do when Jack said her. But the name, the softness with which Jack said it, any confusion was instantly cleared up.

"Holy shit," he breathed. He shut the door, gently, behind him. He didn't want to wake her up, if she was sleeping. There was a worry, a doubt, on the tip of his tongue; who was to say this wasn't just Darrow being a trickster? But if anyone would know their twin, it would be Jack.

"Uh, congrats? I--yeah. Holy shit, man."

"I keep crying? Isn't that ridiculous?" says Jack, rubbing his hands over his face for a moment. "And like, I was holding it together while she was awake but then Poison went out and I..." He takes a deep breath. "Yeah. Thanks for coming."

"It's not ridiculous," Kavinsky assured. He rubbed Jack's arms and led him, gently, into the kitchen. "C'mon. It's an emotional experience, you weren't ready for this--but you're happy, right? Like. This is a good thing. She's here. You have her here, you know she's...she's as okay as she ever is, right?"

"I am so, so happy," admits Jack. "And freaking terrified tha it's going to be too much for her, too fast, and she's going to completely fall apart."

"Hey," Kavinsky breathed. He faced Jack and cupped the back of his neck, holding him so their eyes met. "If it happens, there are people here that can help her. Keep an eye on her, make sure she's on the level. But you can't help keep her level if you're constantly worried she's going to snap."

"It got really, really bad back home," he says, and he keeps his voice low so that Jillie won't hear him if she wakes up. "Trainwreck bad. I can't...We can't do that again."

Kavinsky nodded, understandingly, hand still on Jack's neck. He squeezed. He didn't want to say that he knew, he understood, what it was like to watch reality spread and thin around the edges. But he did. And, already, he was trying to think how he could help Jillie and lift some of that burden on Jack's chest and shoulders.

"Well, for right now," Kavinsky said, "she's asleep and she's okay. One day at a time. Let's get some tea in you--when was the last time you ate?"

"This morning? Maybe? I had breakfast before I went to work. I had tea before Poison went out." He sighs and leans in to the warm weight of Kavinsky's arm around his shoulders. "God, I'm exhausted."

"I'm making you food too, baby," Kavinsky murmured, pressing his nose to Jack's temple. He didn't do more than that. If Jillie woke up--Kavinsky didn't know what Jack had said, if he wanted to say anything. He didn't want to put Jack in a weird position with his sister.

He assumed she must have met Poison. Kavinsky would just have to keep his hands to himself with Jack until he knew the lay of the land again. He wasn't going to fuck things up for him.

"Sit the hell down, man. Before you fall."

Reluctantly, Jack pulls away from Kavinsky and slides into one of the chairs at the table, folding to rest his forehead on his arms. He lets out a shivering sigh.

"I'm fine," he says. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm overreacting."

"You're not," Kavinsky said. He puttered around the kitchen, familiar with it. Most of the apartment kitchens in Darrow were pretty similar, so Poison and Jack's was like Jack's solo kitchen had been, and like Newt and Al's apartment kitchens, and like the one in his studio. He'd been over often enough to know how things were set up here too, where everything was kept.

Once the kettle was on, Kavinsky came back over to Jack and rubbed across his shoulders. "You're not overreacting."

Jack leans back into the warm comfort of Kavinsky's hands on his shoulders. He lets out a soft breath.

"God, I wish I could just go and be somewhere with you for a minute."

Kavinsky leaned down and kissed the back of Jack's head. He said nothing for a moment, thinking quickly. Finally, he said, "You've got your phone on you. We could go hang out on the roof for a hot minute. Bit cold to fool around, but. It'd be something? Breath of air, just for a minute."

Reflexively, Jack glances down the hall towards their closed bedroom door.
He worries his lip for a moment.

"Yeah," he says, quietly. "That might work."

Reflexively, Jack glances down the hall towards their closed bedroom door. He worries his lip for a moment.

"Yeah," he says, quietly. "That might work."

"You want the tea and food first?" Kavinsky knew that Jack should eat. It would help clear his head and calm him down a little bit, help him rationalize the situation. But he didn't want to push if Jack needed the space from the apartment right now. It was better to get that, Kavinsky knew.

Jack thinks about it for a moment and then he shakes his head.

"Air first," he says. "And then I'll swallow anything you want me to swallow." He manages a smirk at the double entendre.

Kavinsky snorted and, as he walked past Jack back out of the kitchen, he shoved his head gently. "C'mon, nerd. I'll give you something tasty to swallow once we get you some air."

For a moment, Jack wishes that he really could just go down into his knees and suck Kavinsky's cock. It would be refreshingly simple. Might give him something to focus on. He lets himself be guided.

Kavinsky cupped the back of Jack's neck and squeezed briefly. They left the apartment, and Kavinsky led the charge up to the roof. Outside, it was brisk but not breezy, which was pleasant enough. He made sure the door wouldn't close and lock them out, and then tugged Jack close.

"Hey," he whispered. "Hey, everything's okay. She's here. That's good. She has you. You're okay."

They're almost the same height and that's comforting, right now. Jack folds himself in against Kavinsky's chest, one arm curled around his neck, his face pressed into the crook of his neck.

"I'm okay," he says. "We're okay."

Kavinsky held Jack like that for a good few moments. He kissed his forehead gently. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have someone this important from home back in his life; nobody, really, seemed quite as important as Jillie did. A part of him was happy that Jillie was here, was gladdened by Jack having his sister. Another part worried about what this meant for Jack's relationships.

He wasn't going to ask him that. He pressed a kiss to Jack's cheek.