Badger Bros Buggin' PV Jake and Jack Closed

Dark lines of sleeplessness sat snuggly under the handsome boy's eyes as they connected once again with his best friend. The silence that permeated the room wasn't exactly comfortable, but Jack was in no rush to break it. As they failed to communicate, Jack could only wallow in the aggravation that constantly seemed to sit in his abdomen. Everyone, including his parents, had noticed his irritability, not that he was trying to hide it. Sadly, his parents were far more preoccupied with his father's ongoing cancer treatments, which had brought his father to a pale imitation of his former self. If anything, they chalked it up to typical teenage rebellion and hormones. Neither Jack nor his parents truly understood the seriousness of his extreme mood swings and anger-driven personality.

George's eyes felt more penetrating than he would ever care to admit. It was like his friend could read his mind, which made Jack raise his defenses even more. There was an inkling buried deep down in his psyche that maybe he wasn't okay, but it had burrowed itself down into the bottomless pit that he could not recognize. The digging hole was just a new obsession to Jack. He had them before- Baseball, Eighties music, Broom Racing, and now it is archaeology. Yet archaeology was far less about digging holes, and Jack couldn't care less about the scraps he managed to unearth. Strangely enough, he was incredibly consistent in finding the right spots to exhume.

Like a mirror being used as target practice, the silence shattered into dust as George deemed the time was ripe for a 'real' conversation. As his fellow Hufflepuff spoke, Jack tugged on the collar of his father's vintage military field jacket closer to his face as if that would prevent this conversation from going any further. "I did relax." Jack muttered indignantly and crossed his arms over his chest, "And I'm not tense." An obvious lie as the boy drew his shoulders even tighter than before. As he spoke, Jack sat on one of the open arches that decorated the open courtyard. "I didn't realize you became my therapist over the summer." The words were laced with the snottiness that only a teenager could produce as the angry Hufflepuff finally broke eye contact to glance back at the final person in their trio. "Jake, tell mister psychologist to back off for once in his life." He huffed. At this point, he'd prefer an outright brawl over these god-awful feeling sessions.

@Jake Morris & @George Henry lets fight!

The beginning of the school year was always one of the most exciting times of the year. Though Jake was nervous about the classes he was going to have to take this year (he'd always heard that fifth year was one of the hardest), PLUS duel captaining, PLUS prefect duties, not to mention studying for OWLs... at least through the anxiety there was the thought of getting to hang out with his best friends again.

It hadn't taken long though for Jake to sense that something was off. Their reunion had been a quiet one from the get-go, and uneasy glances from Jake in the direction of both his friends showed that they seemed...distracted. And though he tried a couple times to regale the other boys with tales of his summer travels, he sort of had the feeling that nobody was listening. As Jake's voice eventually trailed off he went quiet too, looking down at the ground. Then there was just silence, and that was worse.

In the moment of quiet, Jake looked up uncomfortably at his two friends. There had to be something, anything, to talk about. George was staring daggers at Jack. Jack was staring daggers at...well, Jake didn't even know what. The silence was growing increasingly uneasy. It made it kind of hard to sit still. Jake fidgeted with his robes.

Jake guessed he kinda got why George was staring. He'd always known that people changed as they grew, and he knew Jack was nearly sixteen. He just hadn't thought he'd change... THAT much... He'd tried to go up to him once... just to ask what was wrong. Something had had to be wrong... and Jake was his friend, right? He was supposed to be able to help him... But the look in Jack's eyes had made him falter. When he'd tried to talk about it with George he hadn't gotten anything out of it except more mystery. But he knew George noticed it too. Jack had always had a temper. But there was something...different in it now. Something harsher or...or angrier? Jake didn't know how to describe it. It just... didn't feel like his friend.

Then George broke the silence.

Actually, 'tense' was just the right word. Tense wasn't Jack's way. Not normally...He could be angry, sure, sometimes. But this simmering tension bubbling eternally under the surface was something Jake hadn't seen before... not for so long. Jack could have a fiery temper, but he could be easy-going, too. When was the last time Jake had heard his laugh? When was the last time he'd seen him smile?

He'd really hoped that something would have changed when they got back to school, but it hadn't. If anything it seemed like it might have gotten worse. And when he saw Jack's face he really wished George hadn't said anything at all... then Jack's face turned towards him.

Jake's eyes widened in a slight panic as if to ask 'Me??' Why'd Jack have to drag HIM into it? Jake's head turned back and forth quickly between the two taller boys. But the tension in the air was suffocating, and when Jake finally spoke his voice was uneasy.

"Cmon George, uhhh, maybe we should just... let it go. I mean I'm sure Jack will..talk to us when...he's ready?" he asked, eyebrows raising slightly as he looked back uncertainly at Jack.

"Surely," George deadpanned, as Jack claimed he wasn't tense. He'd been on the opposite side of a similar conversation in the past. He could tell well enough that Jack was not, in fact, relaxed. At the comment on being his therapist, George just rolled his eyes. He'd been his therapist far longer than that, even if this was the first time Jack had noticed. Analyzing his emotions and meddling in them was part of the job description, although usually his aggression was easier to manage and redirect. It was just endless, nowadays.

"You can just tell me yourself, Jack," George said defensively. He glanced at Jake with an apologetic look. He didn't mean to spark an argument in front of their sensitive little friend, but unfortunately, his opportunities for contact with Jack were limited. Trapping him in a conversation as a group provided a pretense to probe a bit further without it seeming like therapy... but the jig was up now. Poor Jake was collateral.

The air felt like it was buzzing with tension. George rolled his shoulders and stretched his fingers, wondering if he would have to reach for his wand. He'd hate to make a scene in front of Jake... but it might be a good thing if Jack snapped at him. It would help him make a case for taking whatever actions were necessary to get to the bottom of it... and Jake would be more useful on his side than waffling back and forth.

But George still wasn't going to let Jack off the hook for his aggression again. He'd turned a blind eye as needed, to keep the peace, and make sure they remained friends... but it was getting to the point where something had to give way. Cards needed to come out on the table. "I'm not as sure," grumbled George, looking sideways at Jack, then back to Jake. He turned his head away from Jack and sighed, making his frustration visible. He did not even look at Jack as he addressed him - turning his cheek in an attempt to look indifferent... presenting a very punchable side of his face. "What has gotten into you?"

Of course, George had to have that patronizing comment. 'SuReLy'. The single word tore a snarl on his face. What right did he have to act like he knew about anything going on with Jack? George didn't understand the heartbreak he was going through. He couldn't understand waking up every morning sleepless and exhausted. George Henry never awoke to a dirt-covered bed and bleeding calluses on his hands. George would never understand. The sharp look he would throw George's way would be evidence of his disdain.

But as he attempted to drag the silent third of their group into the fray, there may have been a slight gleam of enjoyment at seeing the smallest Scamander Squad wriggle in discomfort at his words. In the past, Jack had enjoyed throwing Jake into the middle of their discussions due to the blonde's tendency to shy away while the two fiery personalities of Jack and George collided. It was all in good fun with no maliciousness intended. However, as the words left Jack's mouth demanding Jake's intervention, there wasn't a hint of playfulness. Jack had just thrown Jake into the line of fire, fully intending to use him as a meat shield. Of course, what would George do but attempt to push Jake back out of the conversation.

The baby badger's wavering voice caused the corner of Jack's lips to curl up into the most petite facade of a grin. "Why not, George? Don't you think that lil' man should have a say in our tiny spat?" Jack and George's fiery and loud personalities always tended to force Jake to become the reasonable yet silent third. But this dispute might be too much for sensitive Jake, and it may not end in hugs and saying sorry.

The slightest spark would set a fuse that George could not undo, and he was getting mighty close to setting off a landmine. The boy's fingers curled stiffly into a fist, pressing it against his other hand's palm. A loud series of pops erupted from his knuckles as the boy attempted to release some energy from his hands. Not that it ever really worked. It only made him feel more agitated, and there was never a release, only aggression.

A sigh grated at his ears, like nails on a chalkboard. What the hell- George had the nerve to look down on him. 'What has gotten into you?' Those five words set ignition to Jack's belly. The fire had been lit, and it was about time that he and his little brain friend set off. "What's gotten into me? Nothin' has gotten into me, George." What started as an indignant comment quickly ramped into something more. What George could never understand at the moment, but something genuinely sinister had gotten into Jack in a quite literal sense. "Nothin' has gotten into us, We're better than we've ever been!" As his voice raised, Jack couldn't help but slip those plurals 'we' into his words. It felt natural, and Jack didn't even notice as his anger rose.

As if a target had lit up across one of his best friend's face, Jack couldn't hold back. Cocking his arm back, the muscles in his right arm coiled like a snake preparing to strike. His fist flew directly at the boy's cheekbone out of a cannon. This was the release that he needed. Violence was always the answer.

To my loves @George Henry & @Jake Morris