A Music Venue in Brooklyn, Sunday Evening

[suitably_heroic]

Yes, Jack believed all the Force users in the multiverse could use a few lessons in doing normal people things more often. He had frequently coerced, wheedled, and poked several of them into it over the years. But this? Making Lana Beniko, ex-Sith spymaster, man the merch booth?

Had to be his greatest achievement.

It maybe gave a little extra oomph to his performance that evening.

It was also when, after they were done, one of the first things he did was haul his sweaty ass back to the merch stand. "Sooo," he said, grinning. "How are we doing?"

[[ for a lana ]]

Comments

[unusual_sith]

"Well, you are definitely doing 'stuff'," Lana said.

[suitably_heroic]

"Not Jedi stuff," Jack said wryly. "And as sweet as it feels to think about this as some kind of 'giving me a chance at life', most of the people I'm thinking about were Jedi."

He shook his head. "Now my instinct is to tell myself: think about Sparkle. Sparkle would find it way more important that I get my shit together than that I go run around saving starving orphans. But my therapist says that's a--" He lifted his hands for air-quotes, "--'reinforces my habit of seeking moral reassurance outside of myself' or whatever, so I'm supposed to stop doing it."

[unusual_sith]

"Isn't looking to the Jedi the same thing?" Lana asked.

[suitably_heroic]

"Yes, obviously," Jack said. "But I already know that that's stupid. Doesn't stop me doing it, but still. It's finding out that the stuff that seems good isn't actually great for me either that makes therapy such a trip."

[unusual_sith]

"Ah." Lana nodded. "That makes sense." She thought about it. "Is it that it's like a crutch - good at first, but you need to learn to walk without it?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Never good," Jack said wryly. "It's actually part of my damage. I have this thought lodged in my head that I'm not worth anything unless I live up to someone else's lofty expectations." He eyed the road ahead of them. "Space, telling you this is ruining my entire image as a badass who doesn't care."

[unusual_sith]

Lana frowned. "But don't we all measure ourselves against people we admire? And don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

[suitably_heroic]

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and looked straight ahead. His voice was very dry. "I have it on good authority most people don't wake up in the morning thinking that they're worth nothing and don't deserve to be here, unless they live up to what they think someone else would've wanted them to be."

[unusual_sith]

"That would be a bit of an extreme example," Lana agreed.

[suitably_heroic]

"That's not an extreme example," Jack said. He waved at his head. "That's how my diagnosed broken brain works."

[unusual_sith]

Lana wasn't sure what to say to that, so she nodded.

[suitably_heroic]

"And it's annoying," Jack muttered, dropping his hand. "Nobody ever tells you therapy feels a lot like playing dodgeball against yourself."

[unusual_sith]

Lana nudged him. "It wouldn't be as hard if you weren't so good at attacking yourself. I'd think there's a sort of strange pride in that."

[suitably_heroic]

"Yeah," Jack said, nodding. "My crippling mental health problems would definitely be less hard if I had fewer crippling mental health problems."