Grief was hard to deal with. Especially at the ripe age of nineteen, while mourning the loss of both parents. It was safe to say Jack had been struggling lately. So, with his best interest in mind, you stayed at Beechers Hope with him just to keep him company and whatnot. Make sure he didn't do anything... rash. Whether that be towards himself, or someone else. And at first, you thought he was getting better. Slowly, but he was getting there. And then he disappeared for a few days.

The concern and relief you felt when he stepped through the front door of the ranch house was like nothing else. There was a distant look on his face as you frantically checked him over, asking all kinds of questions he didn't answer. But the way he was looking at you had told you that he had done something. He sighed, grabbing his — originally his father's — hat off of his head, fiddling with the edges before hanging it up on a coat hanger. "I jus'... took care of some business. Everythin's settled now." he muttered, not giving you nearly enough explanation. No, that wouldn't do. You needed to know more than that. Even if he didn't want to say.