![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
(no subject)
CHARACTERS: Jax St James & Ronen Jacobson
WHAT: Jax and Ronen come to an agreement.
WHEN: Thursday Morning, February 19th 2026
WHERE: Jax's Office
WARNINGS: Discussions of mental health?
It was eight in the morning and Jax already had his head in his arms on the desk. He'd checked in with the team to let them know he'd be off comms for up to an hour, and the guilt of it, of needing to take personal time during a mission so this could be dealt with, gnawed like at him like the world's angriest beaver.
But it had to be done, and unfortunately the options on board were extremely limited, hence: meeting with Ronen. His ex of four years, a now-healed wound with a sensitive scar. His friend, in theory, though in this particular instance the ex-boyfriend of it all rang louder than anything.
He didn't want to do this. It was time, though.
"Come in," he said into his arms at the sound of the knock.
Struggling with the handle for a moment, Ronen awkwardly shouldered his way into the room, a cup of coffee in each hand and a pack of cookies balanced in the crook of his elbow.
Spotting Jax practically laid out over the desk, he winced and felt a twinge of guilt pull at his gut. He knew Jax was going through it right now, and in their recent arguments he hadn't exactly made things any easier. (Although I had valid points and a right to express them, Ronen's neurotic, argumentative side piped up before he did his best to hush it).
"That bad already?" he asked softly, moving to set the coffee and the cookies down on Jax's desk.
Tempting though it was to remain tucked into his makeshift pillow, Jax did lift his head from the slouch. "Nightmares are coloring most of my mornings black these days," he admitted with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Cookies, too? I feel spoiled."
"Well, from your message a little spoiling seemed in order." He slid one of the cups and the full pack across the table to Jax, offering him a sympathetic smile, "Plus someone pays for their therapy with these, so I'm drowning in them. You're honestly doing me a favor."
Then, reining in his urge to awkwardly ramble on, he sighed, "So what's up?"
Jax didn't meet his eyes, but despite the knot twisting in his middle, he put his bravest foot forward. "I'm having nightmares almost every night now. It's gotten to the point where I'm putting off sleep because I know what's waiting for me on the other side. That night terror is my first in a while, and I know it won't be the last. And now that I'm…" No, he could put a pin in the topic of Jamie for now.
He glanced up, and found himself hating how easy it was to still trip into Ronen's eyes. "I'm reconsidering not wanting to start seeing you for therapy on account of our history."
Ronen took that information in with slow, solemn nods. It was obviously taking a lot for Jax to come to him in this context, so it felt wrong to let his own feelings into the equation, even if it hurt to bite back the sadness welling up in him. The concern that felt a little too close for exes.
"Right," he said after a moment. "There are ways we can do it that will keep our history in consideration. Tools that will let you call for a pause or a halt if you think that's starting to encroach on things."
"But I definitely think it could help if your nightmares are getting this bad, if your terrors are back. …you deserve to sleep, Jax. You deserve some peace."
It probably wasn't a good step in this direction for Jax to impulsively say, "Do I?", a move that had him dropping his head back into his arms. "What kinda tools do you have in mind?"
"Well for starters, next time you feel the urge to say something self-flagellating and nihilistic, shove a cookie in your mouth." Ronen chided, pushing the cookies closer. "You'll either stop doing it, or you'll get sick of cookies." From the safety of his arms, Jax simply huffed.
"As for actual tools, hm." He clicked his tongue and thought over some recent reading, "It could be as simple as a safeword or gesture if you feel like things are getting too personal. Then we can pause and discuss why that is, reassess. I could requisition a couch from somewhere so we could work inward-focused, let you stare at the ceiling instead of me, some people find that helps them feel like the sessions are a dialogue with themselves."
"I like the ceiling option," Jax admitted quietly. There wasn't a chance in Hell he could look Ronen in the face for any of this, certainly not in the beginning of this new journey considering how difficult the mere asking for this was. He could disassociate and imagine Ronen was some distant, disembodied voice rather than someone he'd loved so deeply and lost so miserably, he'd considered never dating – never loving – again.
He could feel the darkness of his thoughts begin to form a storm cloud above his head, and blindly reached for the cookies. "'Safeword' as a concept seems way too sexual, so maybe a gesture that we can't let be me glaring at you. I'll… see what feels best at the time." His fingers dug into the lid of the container. "I don't want to talk about us in any real depth. I should, but not with you, Rone."
"Well, hopefully I'm not the thing giving you nightmares…"
Jax's laugh was soft. "You make appearances, but no."
"We can work on a gesture. Maybe something as simple as a playing card. You hold it up and I know it's time to pause." He considered, then, "And I can bring Alonzo, he can sit with you while you look up at the ceiling."
Putting aside the clinical considerations for a moment, Ronen risked sharing a smile with Jax, "I'm glad you're doing this, Jax. If things have gotten bad enough that your terrors are back… Well, I'm glad you're asking for help. And I can put aside what was between us to help you."
When he felt brave enough to do so – this was already near to maxxing his daily courage quota – Jax did glance up. Logic had told him this was for the best. His heart had been the one to throw a fit, but now the tension constricting it had eased, more than he'd thought it might. This would be okay.
He couldn't quite mirror the smile back, but there was affection in his gaze for the man across from him. "I should've come to you sooner, and maybe that's an unfair assessment given… everything, but I don't think anything would've stuck back then. I was…" A wreck. Both of them had been. He finally freed a cookie, and hooked two fingers in the handle of his coffee. "Anyway, the timing's better now. So thanks, Rone. I appreciate you."
"I appreciate that you came to me," Ronen smiled, "And everyone comes to it in their own time. Now we just have to work on helping you feel better."
WHAT: Jax and Ronen come to an agreement.
WHEN: Thursday Morning, February 19th 2026
WHERE: Jax's Office
WARNINGS: Discussions of mental health?
It was eight in the morning and Jax already had his head in his arms on the desk. He'd checked in with the team to let them know he'd be off comms for up to an hour, and the guilt of it, of needing to take personal time during a mission so this could be dealt with, gnawed like at him like the world's angriest beaver.
But it had to be done, and unfortunately the options on board were extremely limited, hence: meeting with Ronen. His ex of four years, a now-healed wound with a sensitive scar. His friend, in theory, though in this particular instance the ex-boyfriend of it all rang louder than anything.
He didn't want to do this. It was time, though.
"Come in," he said into his arms at the sound of the knock.
Struggling with the handle for a moment, Ronen awkwardly shouldered his way into the room, a cup of coffee in each hand and a pack of cookies balanced in the crook of his elbow.
Spotting Jax practically laid out over the desk, he winced and felt a twinge of guilt pull at his gut. He knew Jax was going through it right now, and in their recent arguments he hadn't exactly made things any easier. (Although I had valid points and a right to express them, Ronen's neurotic, argumentative side piped up before he did his best to hush it).
"That bad already?" he asked softly, moving to set the coffee and the cookies down on Jax's desk.
Tempting though it was to remain tucked into his makeshift pillow, Jax did lift his head from the slouch. "Nightmares are coloring most of my mornings black these days," he admitted with a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Cookies, too? I feel spoiled."
"Well, from your message a little spoiling seemed in order." He slid one of the cups and the full pack across the table to Jax, offering him a sympathetic smile, "Plus someone pays for their therapy with these, so I'm drowning in them. You're honestly doing me a favor."
Then, reining in his urge to awkwardly ramble on, he sighed, "So what's up?"
Jax didn't meet his eyes, but despite the knot twisting in his middle, he put his bravest foot forward. "I'm having nightmares almost every night now. It's gotten to the point where I'm putting off sleep because I know what's waiting for me on the other side. That night terror is my first in a while, and I know it won't be the last. And now that I'm…" No, he could put a pin in the topic of Jamie for now.
He glanced up, and found himself hating how easy it was to still trip into Ronen's eyes. "I'm reconsidering not wanting to start seeing you for therapy on account of our history."
Ronen took that information in with slow, solemn nods. It was obviously taking a lot for Jax to come to him in this context, so it felt wrong to let his own feelings into the equation, even if it hurt to bite back the sadness welling up in him. The concern that felt a little too close for exes.
"Right," he said after a moment. "There are ways we can do it that will keep our history in consideration. Tools that will let you call for a pause or a halt if you think that's starting to encroach on things."
"But I definitely think it could help if your nightmares are getting this bad, if your terrors are back. …you deserve to sleep, Jax. You deserve some peace."
It probably wasn't a good step in this direction for Jax to impulsively say, "Do I?", a move that had him dropping his head back into his arms. "What kinda tools do you have in mind?"
"Well for starters, next time you feel the urge to say something self-flagellating and nihilistic, shove a cookie in your mouth." Ronen chided, pushing the cookies closer. "You'll either stop doing it, or you'll get sick of cookies." From the safety of his arms, Jax simply huffed.
"As for actual tools, hm." He clicked his tongue and thought over some recent reading, "It could be as simple as a safeword or gesture if you feel like things are getting too personal. Then we can pause and discuss why that is, reassess. I could requisition a couch from somewhere so we could work inward-focused, let you stare at the ceiling instead of me, some people find that helps them feel like the sessions are a dialogue with themselves."
"I like the ceiling option," Jax admitted quietly. There wasn't a chance in Hell he could look Ronen in the face for any of this, certainly not in the beginning of this new journey considering how difficult the mere asking for this was. He could disassociate and imagine Ronen was some distant, disembodied voice rather than someone he'd loved so deeply and lost so miserably, he'd considered never dating – never loving – again.
He could feel the darkness of his thoughts begin to form a storm cloud above his head, and blindly reached for the cookies. "'Safeword' as a concept seems way too sexual, so maybe a gesture that we can't let be me glaring at you. I'll… see what feels best at the time." His fingers dug into the lid of the container. "I don't want to talk about us in any real depth. I should, but not with you, Rone."
"Well, hopefully I'm not the thing giving you nightmares…"
Jax's laugh was soft. "You make appearances, but no."
"We can work on a gesture. Maybe something as simple as a playing card. You hold it up and I know it's time to pause." He considered, then, "And I can bring Alonzo, he can sit with you while you look up at the ceiling."
Putting aside the clinical considerations for a moment, Ronen risked sharing a smile with Jax, "I'm glad you're doing this, Jax. If things have gotten bad enough that your terrors are back… Well, I'm glad you're asking for help. And I can put aside what was between us to help you."
When he felt brave enough to do so – this was already near to maxxing his daily courage quota – Jax did glance up. Logic had told him this was for the best. His heart had been the one to throw a fit, but now the tension constricting it had eased, more than he'd thought it might. This would be okay.
He couldn't quite mirror the smile back, but there was affection in his gaze for the man across from him. "I should've come to you sooner, and maybe that's an unfair assessment given… everything, but I don't think anything would've stuck back then. I was…" A wreck. Both of them had been. He finally freed a cookie, and hooked two fingers in the handle of his coffee. "Anyway, the timing's better now. So thanks, Rone. I appreciate you."
"I appreciate that you came to me," Ronen smiled, "And everyone comes to it in their own time. Now we just have to work on helping you feel better."