An Explosion of Emotions

Instead of confronting Eddie's accusation, Jackson turned away and made some excuse about needing rest.

He gave them nothing, but in a way, that told Eddie everything he needed to know. For him, it only confirmed his suspicions that Jackson had crashed on purpose.

Sachin and Marcus weren't convinced though—they laughed it off, thinking it was ridiculous to even consider that. After all, why would Jackson do such a thing? Especially when the season was just about to start … he loved football … right?

As Jackson lay there, he was reminded that he had so many loved ones, so many people there for him, so many people he could talk to, no matter what it was about, and they'd never judge him for anything.

He silently let the words of appreciation and support wash over him, he didn't meet the sad, confused gazes coming from Eddie or his brother Tommy, he barely said anything else to anyone for the rest of his short stay at the hospital after that.

Tommy stuck by his bedside the most, while his friends left shortly after he went quiet and didn't visit him again, though Jackson was only kept in the hospital for one more day.

When it was time to go, he was wheeled out to the family sedan, where Tommy helped him into the passenger seat. His new crutches—though even with them Dr Saha advised him to stay off his feet as much as possible over the coming weeks—were loaded into the boot, and his family piled into the car before they drove off back home.

Even stopping for pizza did nothing to brighten Jackson's mood. He kept his head resting against the window, glaring at the world beyond it, which was much too bright for his dreary mood.

"If this was a movie, it'd be raining now, wouldn't it?" he thought.

When they got back home, Jackson's mother suggested that they have a family movie night, but Jackson gently rejected that idea, saying that he just wanted to go to his room.

When he lay down on his bed, he wondered if he made the right decision, even if he didn't really want to be around others right now, being stuck with himself might've actually been worse.

Though after a while, he was saved from his own thoughts when Tommy knocked on and opened the door. He was cradling a pizza box and a bottle of soft drink, along with a dusty old Xbox 360 in his arms.

'Yo! Thought we could boot up this old thing and play some zombies, like old times,' Tommy said, setting everything down and getting started on hooking up the console to Jackson's TV.

Jackson gingerly sat up, watching his brother. 'We don't… thanks, that'd be really fun.' Tommy flashed him a grin. Jackson looked around. 'Though, bit hard to do that without any controllers… and uh, we need some glasses too unless you wanna drink straight from the bottle.'

'Ah, right right. Hey, I only have two arms ya know, I couldn't carry it all at once,' Tommy laughed and once he had everything set up, he stood and stepped out of the room. 'Be right back,' he said as he went off to get the last things they needed.

When Tommy returned, he handed over a controller to Jackson, and poured out their drinks, but before he took his seat next to the bed, he looked his brother over.

'You sure you don't need some pillows under your leg or anything?' He was already on his way out to get more cushions when Jackson's voice stopped him.

'No, it's fine… relax, I'll be alright, just… don't worry about it okay? I'm fine.' Tommy stopped at the door and looked back, staring at Jackson for a while before he smiled and nodded, making his way back over and dropping down onto the beanbag next to Jackson's bed.

'Alright, you still remember the strat?' Tommy asked.

'What, where we get up on the table in the starting room of Five? Yeah, I remember.'

'Heh, awesome. Reckon we can beat our record tonight?'

'I don't know… but, I'll try my best to carry you through it,' Jackson teased.

'Ohh, you're gonna carry me now, is that right? We'll see about that.'

Jackson smiled. The two brothers booted up Call of Duty: Black Ops 1 and went to the zombies mode, selecting their mutual favourite map from the game: Five.

They glitched out of bounds and on top of areas they weren't supposed to reach, racked up points and then raced to get the power on and everything unlocked.

They'd madly dash back to their glitched spot while keeping away from the final zombie alive, and blast the invisible gun thief when he inevitably showed up.

Eventually, they'd run out of bullets, and get downed when they made a sprint to pick up a new weapon or get some more ammo, and then they'd start all over again, aiming ever higher, always chasing after that illustrious goal of round 100 that they'd never quite been able to reach together.

They laughed and joked around with each other the whole time, competing against one another to see who could get the highest amount of points, who could kill the most zombies and get the most headshots, and giving each other shit whenever one of them would go down, though they always did everything they could to revive one another.

They'd played long enough into the night that the leftover pizza had gone cold, their bottle of soft drink was empty, and at one point, their mom had stuck her head into the room to tell them to try and keep things quiet as their little sister was going to sleep.

They promised to keep the noise down, though of course sometimes they got so into it that in the heat of the moment they just couldn't help but cry out, cheer, or groan loudly.

It was just what Jackson needed, though he couldn't remember the last time they'd had such fun like this, even before Tommy went away to college.

Jackson had lost count of the amount of games they'd played, the amount of times they started over from round one.

Though the next time they both died, Tommy flopped back with a groan. 'Duuuude, ugh that was so messed up! I totally should've been able to squeeze through there.'

'Hahah, I know right? Sometimes it feels like they just grab onto you even though you should've been able to get through.'

Tommy laughed, still holding onto his controller, though he didn't start up another game right away. 'Hey… I've already said this, but, you can tell me anything, you know. Is everything okay with you? Like, outside of all this,' as he said the last part, he gestured to Jackson's leg.

Jackson's expression soured, and he set down his controller. '...It's getting late, don't you have classes tomorrow? We should probably get some sleep.' He went to turn away, but Tommy reached over and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

'Nuh-uh, you don't get to push me away again, not 'till you tell me what's up with you… come on, get up, we're going for a drive.'

Jackson groaned and frowned, but he saw that look in Tommy's eyes, always such a determined, stubborn bull, he knew when his big brother had that look there was no dissuading him from what he wanted.

With a heavy sigh—and with Tommy's help—he started to pick himself up. Jackson shuffled down the hall on his crutches, drawing the attention of his parents from the living room.

'Where are you boys headed?' their dad asked, his voice inquisitive rather than stern.

'Just heading out for a short drive,' Tommy answered. 'I promise we won't be long… Jack and I just need some fresh air, and some bro time.' His smile was soft as he looked at his parents, one hand rubbing Jackson's shoulder.

It was a comforting look, and the parents trusted Tommy enough to know that he wouldn't do anything stupid and was just trying to look out for Jackson, so they let them go, but told them to be back before midnight.

Tommy helped Jackson into his little, beat-up car, and threw the crutches into the back before they took off, cruising through the mostly quiet streets, the air still hot and heavy despite it being nighttime.

Jackson was surprised that Tommy was silent throughout the drive, only the music of the radio and the grumble of the engine disrupted their silence. He wondered where they were going—if they had a destination at all—but he didn't say anything, maybe if he stayed quiet, Tommy would too.

Though after ten minutes or so, they came to a stop, pulling up by a public football field.

Jackson's brow furrowed. 'I'm not getting out.'

Tommy gave him a look, raising an eyebrow as he turned off the engine. Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes, opening his door, knowing Tommy would just carry him out if he wanted, and even with no one else around, that was still a humiliation he wanted to avoid.

Tommy picked up the crutches from the back and got out, making his way around the car to help Jackson out as well, then led him into the middle of the grassy field underneath the stars.

'What are we doing out here, Tommy?' Jackson asked.

'Did you really do it on purpose?' Tommy looked at him, and Jackson stayed silent, turning his eyes towards the ground.

'I'm going home. I'll walk if I have to.' Jackson turned and started to hobble away. He was clumsy with his crutches, still not used to them, and the shoddy turf was uneven. He stumbled and fell down.

In a flash, Tommy was right there by his side.

'Why won't you talk to me?! I'm right here to help you, just… I don't know what to do so tell me what's wrong… please. I'm always here to pick you up.' Tommy helped Jackson back up onto his feet, not letting him go. Jackson couldn't meet his gaze.

'S-So what if I didn't care about getting hurt, if I was reckless and got into that crash on purpose, then what?' Jackson sniffled, his trembling lips curled up into a scowl as he glared at the grass.

'Why? What about your game?'

'What about it?!' Jackson stared at Tommy, his eyes not only clouded by tears, but more anger than he'd ever felt before. 'Why's it matter if I miss out on football?!'

'I thought you loved playing, isn't it your dream to make it to the NFL? What about that? If… If you don't like it anymore, if you don't want to do it, you could've just said something—'

'Say what?! Sorry mom, sorry dad! I'm sorry you drove me to all those camps, to all those games, all those practices, bought all those boots, I'm sorry you believed in a piece of worthless shit like me when I was garbage all along that could never go anywhere?'

Tommy was taken aback, never seeing or hearing Jackson so upset in his life. He wiped a speck of saliva from his cheek from when Jackson had inadvertently spat on him during his rant.

'I just… I can't do it!' Jackson slumped down to the ground again, tossing aside his crutches as he sat on his ass, putting his face into his hands.

'You're not worthless, why… why do you think all those things about yourself, you're amazing Jackie! You're one of the best I've seen, you've got so much potential, I know you're gonna be great. You're even better than I was at your age.'

Tommy sat down beside his brother, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

Jackson shook his head, trying to push his brother away, but unable to break away from his strong grip. 'I'm not… not anymore. Everyone… they're so much better than me, I…I could never catch up… I'm scared.'

'Scared? You've got nothing to be scared about, you just… you have to work hard. You're in high school now, you're a freshman, of course you're not going to be on the level of the seniors. Even I struggled at the beginning, hell, I'm struggling now trying to adjust to college.'

'It's different… I… I can't do it.'

'Why not?!' Jackson flinched as Tommy raised his voice. 'You can do anything! So why can't you keep up with and surpass anyone in your way, if you want it, you just have to give it your all.'

Jackson shook his head more, curling up as best he could with one leg in a cast. 'B-But… what if I let everyone down? What if I get left behind? What if I embarrass myself, embarrass my coaches, my teammates, mom, dad, even you and everyone who's ever helped me or believed in me?! What if I'm never good enough and I never live up to what everyone expects of me? What if I can never reach that childish dream of making it to the NFL, what if I can never live up to you?!'

Tommy hugged Jackson as tight as he could, tears rolling down his cheeks. 'Shut up, Jackson… you're talking bullshit. You could never let us down… you're the best little brother I could ever ask for, and I'll always be proud of you!'

He took a deep breath, holding Jackson close, keeping Jackson's head against his chest. 'You don't have to do anything to make us all proud, you don't have to reach any goal, all you have to do, is give it your all…

'I'm scared too. Every game. You think I'm not? You think Tom Brady, or Patrick Mahomes, or Devante Adams aren't scared every time they lace up their boots and get out there in front of millions?... I'm scared about letting people down too. What if I drop this pass, what if I miss this block, what if I fumble, what if I get hurt, what if I let my teammates down when they need me, or my coaches, what if I look like an idiot out there, what if we lose?

'Even in practice I'm scared! What if I mess up this drill, or forget this new play, what if the coach doesn't put me in next game, or cuts me… but, you have to push past those fears, you can't let them hold you back, because they don't matter. Even if you drop a pass, or get beat by your corner, if you can't get open or you miss a block, it doesn't matter. The only way I could ever let anyone down, was if I didn't try my hardest out there.'

He leaned away from Jackson, holding him at arm's length as he looked down into his eyes. 'That's all you have to do. Nothing else matters. Your teammates might get mad in the moment, but they'll know, that everyone did their best, and next time you'll just have to try harder, train longer, practice more, and next time, you'll do better. Your coaches too, they might get upset that you messed up, that you forgot something even though they've been drilling it into your head all season, but the only thing that will ever truly affect the way they see you, is how hard you work and if your heart is in it or not.'

Tommy moved one hand to Jackson's chest. 'If you don't want to play football anymore, if you truly wanna give it up because it's not fun to you anymore, then just say that. We'll all understand, and we'll all love you exactly the same way, no matter what you want to do… but if there's even still a sliver of love and passion, even the smallest of embers in your heart, burning away with that desire to make it… then you HAVE to give it your all. You can't give up, and you can't make excuses. You can't run away from your dreams, you have to see them through to the end, and even if they remain out of your reach forever, you'll look back on your memories and be able to smile, because you know you gave it your all, so you won't have any regrets.'

Tommy gave Jackson another short, much more gentle hug this time and let out a deep, shaky breath. Jackson clung to his older brother tightly and closed his eyes.

'What's it gonna be, Jack? What do you want from your one and only life? Are you gonna stop here, and move past football? Or do you want more?'

Jackson trembled. 'I-I won't stop… I-I promise, bro… I'll do my best, and I won't give up until I've made it! Until I'm the best that's ever played… I promise you…'

Tommy smiled, still cradling his crying little brother. 'I know you will. You can do it, little bro. You're gonna be the best.'