#jack (??)

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These are gonna look Kinda Creepy when I'm done but In Context of the story the creatures hanging out there are friendly aliens helping out my boy Jack give birth to his son Greython

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Day 38 // ft. Jack and Greython, and Lovell Foster

#83 / Possess

“I’d be more than happy to show you a good time, if you’re looking for one.” Jack felt like he was in a daze. His mouth was moving, but he had no idea what he was saying, if any sound was even coming out at all. He couldn’t really see who he was talking to, but something about them was familiar. They moved closer, and his vision cleared just enough for him to make out the identity of the person.

Special Agent Lovell Foster.

Well, he’d shown up at this party to meet up with someone, trade for information. He hadn’t expected the FBI to be there. What he was trading wasn’t illegal information, but perhaps Agent Foster hadn’t gotten the memo.

Or maybe one of the other deals going on in the study was.

Well, it didn’t concern him. So why was he talking to him? Why didn’t he know what he was saying?

Agent Foster flushed a bit, and Jack could practically smell the alcohol on him. The man was drunk. Jack could hardly believe it. He’d been under the impression that Agent Foster didn’t drink. Jack, on the other hand, had drunk a considerable amount throughout the night. He had intended to stay till noon tomorrow, so he didn’t worry about having to drive.

But that couldn’t explain why he wasn’t in control of his body.

He and Agent Foster went back and forth talking, until finally he took the agent’s arm and brought him upstairs. Everything faded away into black as they entered an unoccupied guest room.

-

Greython was mad at him, and Jack didn’t blame him. If he was in his son’s position, he would have been upset too. Finding out that an FBI agent was under the impression that his father had fathered the child he was carrying, especially the agent that worked so hard to ruin everything the duo had worked for… Well, even Jack was a bit pissed at Agent Foster. He’d been making real progress in getting his son to not hold such a huge grudge against him, and now the boy was too upset to even entertain the idea of eventually forgiving him.

“So…” Jack started, leaning against the steering wheel, “What’s poppin’?”

“I hate you.”

Ouch. “Yeah, I figured. Hm… Sorry I didn’t listen to you at that party. Shouldn’t have drank anything. But I didn’t want to, uh, you know… to Agent Foster.” Greython just scowled, staring out the window. “Ah, but… I wasn’t in control of my actions. It was like-”

“I know,” his son interrupted.

Jack turned around in his seat. “What?”

Greython glanced at him, confused. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘I know?’ What the hell?”

“Why do you think I tell you not to drink alcohol? I don’t say things without a reason.” Greython crossed his arms, eyes flashing with anger. “We were being watched, by a couple of the… the Green. They had a machine, and they followed you around. When you got drunk enough, they turned it on.”

God, that was unbelievably fucked up. He hated Green possession. Normally, he could resist it, but if he was intoxicated, they could override his defenses. Sure, they hardly ever came around, but he was foolish to let his guard down.

And Greython couldn’t tell him when they were there. It was too dangerous.

“Oh. I’m sorry I didn't listen to you. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“You already promised, Dad. Now that FBI freak is going to rope you into raising his baby.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll insist we do a DNA test when it’s born. For now… How about another trip down to the abandoned military base? I have things to submit to the Purple in exchange for our gas and insurance money.” He decided not to scold Greython for calling Agent Foster a freak. It didn’t matter too much, not when Greython never spoke to anyone but him out loud.

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Day 36 // ft. Jack, Lovell Foster, and Greython

#69 / Child

“We can be friends instead,” Jack offered. The way Lovell’s face fell made him feel like wincing, but he resisted the urge, and kept his face neutral instead. However, he couldn’t help glancing at his son. The boy was staring down at the small mound of sugar, salt, and pepper packets he’d collected. Jack moved a few jelly packs onto the pile. “Here, Greython.”

Lovell watched his hand move, and then stared at Greython. He went through a few different expressions that Jack had trouble identifying, and finally settled on one that looked like anger. “Is it because of him?”

“What?”

“Did your son tell you not to date me? Tell you you’re not allowed to fall in love?”

“Lovell, I don’t have feelings for you in that way.”

“I think this baby says otherwise.’

“Not really. It was just a one night stand, Agent.”

“Maybe, but why won’t you give me a chance? I know we could make things work out!”

Jack took one of the pepper packets and fiddled with a corner of it. He sighed, and refused to look Lovell in the eyes as he replied, “I don’t think it would work out.

“Why not?”

“For one, you’re awful to my son. He’s just a little boy, and you’re accusing him of controlling me just because you’re upset that I’m not in love with you. Second, I don’t particularly feel any need to be there for the baby.”

Lovell’s face flushed with shame at the first note, but he grew angry once more as Jack made his next point. “You’re their father!”

“So?”

“So, it means you’re responsible for helping to raise them!”

“I don’t agree.”

“You took in Greython! You could have left him with his mother.”

Actually, he couldn’t have, and had spent years trying to figure out how to get rid of his son. Jack sighed, and knew Greython would be in a sour mood for the rest of the day if he didn’t get him out of her and beg for forgiveness in the car.

Still, he could never tell anyone, not if he wanted to keep himself and Greython safe. “That was an entirely different set of circumstances. I’m afraid I can only take care of one child at the moment. Greython requires a lot of attention, attention that a pregnancy and newborn would take away.” He shrugged. “And of course, you know my job.”

“And you know mine.”

“If it’s going to interfere with your career, then why not just abort it?” Lovell gaped at him, and Jack stood up. He gathered up the little pile his son had created and jammed it into the pocket of his hoodie. Greython swiped the rest of the packets on the table and pocketed them as well.

Jack stopped at the register first and placed a quick order for two kids’ meals and a cheeseburger and fries. “With milk instead of soda, please. Uh, not chocolate.”

“No drink for you, sir?”

The second milk was for him. “No thanks.” The three bags were passed over, and he gave the two kids’ meals to Greython. They walked to the car in silence, and got in. Greython took his place in the backseat, and opened up the bags. He passed up one milk to his father.

Greython started eating the fries, carefully eating them one by one. Jack took a big bite of his cheeseburger, and leaned back in his seat. Finally, Greython asked him, “Father, what was that all about?”

“Well, my little star-child, Special Agent Foster is under the impression that I fathered his unborn child.”

Greython nodded solemnly in understanding. He put another french fry in his mouth.

Jack took that as his cue to keep talking. He continued, almost to himself, “It can’t be my child. I’m infertile. Always have been.” He glanced at his rear view mirror. Greython was giving him a questioning look. Jack answered his unasked question, “You came about through special circumstances. Now, about what I said in the restaurant-”

“I know. You’re sorry.” Greython’s eyes turned red. “I’ll never forgive you. You’re just using me, and I know you’re still researching how to get rid of me.”

Ah. He’d been hoping Greython hadn’t seen the contents of his safe, but the boy had gotten through every lock Jack had ever purchased. Well, he couldn’t deny the truth. “Yeah.”

His son’s eyes returned to their normal shades of gray and blue. “Are we going home now?”

“Yes, we are. I’ll get us out of here before Agent Foster decides our conversation isn’t over.”