Shaw, Jackson D.

[Deleted]

WISEMAN CLOSED HIS MOUTH
MADMAN CLOSED HIS FIST
YOUNG MAN SHOWS HIS AGE
JUDGE MAN NAMED IT SIN
BAD MAN DON’T EXIST, NO
NO EVIL MAN EXISTS
GOOD MAN DON’T EXIST, NO
NO RIGHTEOUS MAN EXISTS
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FULL NAME: Jackson Dalgliesh Shaw
NICKNAMES: J
AGE: 31
BIRTHDAY: 05-03-1982
CURRENT CITY: New York City, New York
HOMETOWN: Brooklyn, New York
EDUCATION:

Columbia University, B.S.
Stanford University, M.D.

OCCUPATION: Clinic Doctor

FACEBOOK NAME: n/a
TWITTER HANDLE: n/a
INSTAGRAM: n/a
TUMBLR URL: n/a

HEIGHT: 6’2"
WEIGHT: 164
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Hazel

FATHER: Ervin Shaw (deceased)
MOTHER: Isabelle (née Abraham) Shaw
SIBLINGS: Tyler Shaw (deceased) and Isaac Shaw (deceased)
EXTENDED: n/a
PETS: Roman aka “Ro", a rescued German Shepherd puppy

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"it’s strange how pain marks our faces, and makes us look like family"

Because you stopped taking my calls...
From: Isla Alexander <[e-mail]>
To: Jackson Shaw <[e-mail]>

The fact that you are forcing me to contact you via email, and not just speaking to me in person, or at least, taking my phone calls, is really childish Jackson. But since you are, i'm just going to spill what needs to be said right here.

Last weekend you never gave me a chance to explain. Will and I... it just happened. I don't know any other way to say it. You were in such a state when you left, angry at the world, and it just seemed like you cared so little about that happiness that our marriage could have brought. Or really, just our relationship in general. You pushed me aside, made me feel insignificant, and just put us on hold while you went off to have your revenge. Remember when we were children, laying in our fort we built in your room, and talked about being together for the rest of our lives? We talked about it for so long growing up, J. And I know you've been through so much. So much more than I and a million others could probably ever deal with. You're one brave soul, and I love that about you. Admire it even. But when you stopped writing me and just disappeared... I was worried to death every night. I was worried they'd come knocking on your mother's door and telling her, telling all of us, that you were gone. As time passed, holding together the pieces back here was hard. But Will was there to help take care of me.

We both never wanted to hurt you Jackson, that was never our intention. But you can't expect to be gone for so long and then come back to everything being the way it was when you left. I'll always love you, you know that. You were my first love, Jackson.. But people change, and so do feelings. And i'm sorry if i've hurt you. No, I am sorry for hurting you. But please don't take it out on Will. If you must, be mad at me for the rest of your life. But Will is your best friend. And you two have been through so much over the years. The last thing I want is for you two to never speak again.

Why don't you come to dinner later this week, maybe Thursday or Friday? We all really need to talk. Because holding in everything is going to do no one any good. Just, please call me, okay?

- Isla

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♪ on repeat:

♪ Given Up, by Linkin Park
♪ Conversation With A Devil, by Andre Nickatina
♪ Boneless, by Steve Aoki ft. Chris Lake & Tujamo
♪ Shipwreck, by Modeselektor ft. Thom Yorke
♪ Wise Man, by Frank Ocean
♪ I Ain’t Mad At Cha, by Tupac
♪ No Diggity, by Blackstreet ft. Dr. Dre
♪ Smells Like Teen Spirit, by Nirvana
♪ Lithium, by Nirvana
♪ Sweden, by Two Fingers
♪ Creep, by Radiohead
♪ High and Dry, by Radiohead
♪ Far Behind, by Candlebox



The Random 15:

Items on you at all times: Wallet, concealed weapon permit ID, keys, watch, condoms, eye drops, gum.
Favorite clothing items: Jeans, vintage leather and army jackets from trip to Berlin five years ago, skull caps, Timberlands, Rolex, Nike Free 5.0.
Favorite vacation spot: Balearic Islands.
Favorite perfume on your woman: Chanel or Dior.
Funny ringtone of one iPhone contact: Moan noise, used to be for Isla.
Name one of your favorite books: The Green Mile, by Stephen King.
Tupac or Biggie?: Tupac.
Favorite television show(s): Banshee, Breaking Bad, The Following, Game of Thrones, Walking Dead, Sherlock, Strikeback, American Dad, South Park, Sons of Anarchy, Battlestar Galactica, The Sopranos.
Last person you kissed: Margot, I think her name was. Some stripper.
Do you prefer to drive or take public transportation?: Drive. But I had to sell my car to pay off some bills, so now I just ride the Subway.
Love not war?: Sometimes the world needs both.
How many languages do you speak?: 3. 
Can you forgive and forget?: No.
Your ideal woman: Sexy, passionate spirit, good music taste, not insane.
One actor/and/or/actress you cannot stand: Male, Nicolas Cage. Female, Jen Aniston.

---

SESSION NO. VII:

How are you today Mr. Shaw?

It’s Jackson. Like I said before. Mr. Shaw sounds like my father. And i’d rather not be my father.

Alright, how are you today, Jackson?

Let's fucking see. Hungover, have a huge kink in my neck and I don’t know or remember where it might have come from, my sock is wet thanks to finding out just ten minutes ago my old trusty Timberland’s have a hole in them as I walked through the rain, I think i’m going to get fired on Monday, and my fiancé is apparently dating my best friend Will, but just happened to tell me on the weekend, almost three fucking weeks after I got back. So, i’d say, pretty fucking shitty.

Sounds like you have a lot to deal with. Not to mention, that must have been terribly difficult to cope with. How did that all come about and then end so suddenly? Just last week you were telling me the comfortableness with Isla was building once more.

I guess fucking not. She lied to me, betrayed me, she should have fucking waited. And Will should't have touched her. Who the fuck does that?! I could rip him to shreds right now. That will never be forgiven. But all of us, we grew up together in Brooklyn, Isla, Will, my brothers and I. And there was JT also, but he came a little later, when we met up towards the end of our middle school years. Isla and I were always a thing I guess. Even when we were kids. We even planned out our wedding and everything, stupid things kids in love do. But in 2001, when Isaac and Tyler died in the Towers, 18 year old me just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle anything.

They were firemen, correct?

My brothers, yea. And my father. It was a tradition in the family. But after they all passed, my mom forbid me from becoming the same.

So you became a Navy SEAL instead. That career isn’t any less unpredictable or less dangerous.

Yea well, I was an ER doctor first. And that sort of eased my mother’s worry half the time. Medicine always interested me more than firefighting though, and I always got high marks in maths and sciences even when I half assed shit. I fucked around a lot as a kid, just to have fun, and was never interested in going to college really, but my brother’s deaths did something to me. Inspired me maybe. But as soon as I started I was sick of being around idiots in school, I wanted to get out as soon as I could, and help people. I wanted to save lives.. So I worked my ass off and graduated early. But after getting through medical school at Stanford, and completing my residency at NewYork-Presbyterian, I kept hearing more and more about the troubles in the Middle East, and more of my friends were dying who enlisted. And all that pent up rage and anguish I tried to control during college, just overflowed. And all I saw was red. And that’s when I set out to be a SEAL. And I and Isla’s wedding was put on hold.

So joining the military was out of anger, and not that side you experienced before of wanting to help and protect people?

I wanted to protect my family. Isla, my mom, my nephew Max, my friends. But killing never felt like a better source of revenge in my life. And I guess.. apart of me loved the feeling of being so close to death too. After losing so much, death is almost a welcoming embrace after a while.

And you were released after three years, correct?

When I got shot, after my unit was attacked in Afganistan, like I told you last time. And which i'm not fucking going into with you right now. But they thought I wouldn’t be able to recover to full standards, and they apparently questioned my mental stability. As if they ever expected any of us to be fucking sane after war. So now i'm back here, walking around with an annoying fucking limp and the whole world is upside fucking down.

So you’ve been back in The United States for five months and in rehabilitation for your injuries and alcohol use. And then in New York for only three weeks, and things seem to not be working out well, or where you'd like to be as of yet.

Thanks for telling me what I already fucking know. The fuck. What am I even paying you for?

You aren’t. Your family is. But, I was just clarifying. I’m here to help Jackson. It’s up to you to want it. 

Yea, whatever. I’m fucked and “broken". Go ahead and preach, i’ve heard it before.

You are not broken and this is not the end. You’ve dealt with a lot more than most human beings do. You just need to find the good in life again. Coping and readjusting takes time.

And if I can’t?

Then you’ll continue to be lost. And you’ll miss out on a great life you deserve.

Yea. Sure. Can you just sign my paperwork so I can get the fuck out of here? This isn't working for me. This is stupid.

No, Jackson. But I think this is enough for today. But before we end this session, do you have any goals? Remember, I asked you to come up with a list last session.

Jesus fuck. I don't know.. Get rehired at NewYork-Presbyterian for some time, so I can stop working at this small clinic. Get over Isla. Eventually get out of here. Get a life. Feel again.

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ALIAS: Liza
AGE: 23
PLAY-BY: Casey
MEMBER GROUP: New York
INSPIRATION: Frankie Oceann