Okay, so after seeing Jake totally un-phased about his uncle beeing dead and seeing no fanfiction about this detail. I decided to write one myself. Jake's hard to write since he seems so one dimensional so I really hope I have him in character. Charlie was a bit easier to write. Disclaimer: I don't own Two and a Half Men
Jake entered his room. It had been a long day, spending a good hour at his uncle Charlie's funeral service and then most of the day at his dad's – no – Uncle Charlie's house, reminiscing about him. An emotionally exhausted Jake flopped down on his bed and let out a sigh. All day long he put on a mask of indifference, hiding his pain and sorrow for the loss of his beloved uncle. Now he wished he could let the mask slip and unleash all of his tears, but he couldn't. Keeping this mask was the last thing he could for Uncle Charlie.
Don't cry, he thought, whatever you do, don't cry
Jakes thoughts drifted back to when he was thirteen just beginning puberty in which he made this promise to his uncle.
Jake was watching TV when Charlie, who was beginning his second bottle of beer, jumped to the couch next to Jake. Jake didn't say anything that he acknowledged his uncle's presence and Charlie took a swig of beer. Then he took the TV remote and muted the TV.
"Hey! I was watching that!" Jake cried in indignation.
Uncle Charlie ignored him and drank a sip of beer. He put his hand on Jake's leg. "Promise me something, Jake."
It registered to Jake that this was not his uncle's normal behavior, but he went along with it. "Well, okay, only if you un-mute the TV afterwards."
"If I die, don't cry."
He must be really drunk, Jake thought, to be acting so emo. "Why?"
"Because I ain't worth it." There was a slight slur to his speech. "Don't even act sad. I ain't worth it."
"Okay then, why?" Jake was a bit confused to why his uncle thought of himself this way.
"Why? All my life I've been drinking booze and fucking girls just to bury my shit. The shit I've had since I was born. I ain't worth much. And I'm not the only one who knows. Just ask my bitch of a mother." Charlie took another swig. He was officially drunk. "But it ain't too late for you. You don't have my shit. You can make something with yourself. Something good. Too late for me."
Jake snorted. "Like hell I can be anything good. You've seen my grades and how I act. And I'm not the only one who knows. Just ask my parents."
"Not too late, kid. All you need is a little push in the right direction and a little belief in yourself. I ain't smart. Never was. I was like you only better with the girls. No one believed in me so I didn't believe in me either. Now look at me. I don't want you to be like me."
At first, Jake thought how drunk his uncle must be that he actually believed he was smart or have any potential to do well in school. However, it touched him that his uncle – although drunk as he may be – actually believed in him and cared about him even if sober, he didn't really believe in his intelligence (he knew Uncle Charlie loved him). No one ever did.
Jake didn't let onto how he really felt. He just laughed and said, "Fine. If you keep believing in me, I won't cry at your funeral." He doubted Uncle Charlie would keep his promise. It probably wasn't true, and this was just his drunken, emo self talking.
"Okay," Uncle Charlie slurred and then passed out. Jake took back the remote and un-muted the TV.
However, Jake was surprised that Uncle Charlie kept his end of the bargain. In small ways (so small one might notice), he encouraged Jake to do better, even setting him up with a tutor – his old fifth grade teacher. Anything academic-related, Uncle Charlie encouraged Jake through actions like not taking Jake out when he has to study for a test, but if anyone asked why, Uncle Charlie will come up with some excuse about not wanting a little tag-a-long, but Jake knew the real reason, and he tried hard. He always failed. However when it came to other things, Uncle Charlie was vocal and successful. Through advice on girls and drugs and alcohol, Uncle Charlie helped Jake to not make the same mistakes he made in hopes Jake would have a brighter future.
And now he's gone, Jake sadly thought. Tears threatened to spill, and Jake surpassed them and tightened the straps on his mask. Uncle Charlie kept up his end of the bargain. Now Jake had to keep up his end. He never thought his uncle was worthless, but if this is what he wanted then so be it.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Whatever you do, don't cry
Jake remembered viewing his uncle's body just before he was cremated. Then he remembered that when he was ten, he went to the funeral of his grandma's ex-husband. That time he went only to see a dead guy. This time, he went only to get one last look at Uncle Charlie before cremation. His dad didn't want him to see. He said that Uncle Charlie was mauled by that train. His dad didn't want Jake's last memory of his uncle as a mauled up corpse. However, Jake insisted he saw Uncle Charlie. It was the only time in his life that he was motivated to do something, and it paid off, too. His dad caved in (although afterwards, his mom threatened to kill his dad for letting Jake see his dead uncle).
Jake remembered that this time, seeing a dead guy wasn't cool. Especially, if that dead guy was your beloved uncle and that dead guy didn't look like he was sleeping but something of a horror movie. The coroners did their best to clean up his uncle, but Jake could see the scars, the caved in skull with exposed brain matter, the crushed bones in his arms and legs, the…
Jake heaved his guts out in a nearby trash can. Luckily, he was alone in the room and no one came to comfort him. All Jake wanted to do was breakdown and cry like a baby as the crushing reality of Uncle Charlie's death ran him over like the train that killed him, but he couldn't. He made a promise, and he intended to keep it so he just said that he loved him, thanks for all that he's done for him, how much he'll miss him, how he remembered his promise, and goodbye. Then he pretended that he was un-phased and uncaring about Uncle Charlie's death during the memorial service. No one seemed to be disgusted or suspicious of him. Perhaps, they thought it was just his way of grieving. Whatever. He fooled them all, and that's what he wanted to do.
Even if it did hurt inside
Don't cry. Don't cry. Whatever, you do, don't cry
Then Jake's mind drifted to happier memories of just him and Uncle Charlie like when Uncle Charlie taught him the secrets of hooking up with girls, when they played games of basketball together, when Uncle Charlie took him to a basketball game for his ninth birthday, when Uncle Charlie played piano and he played his guitar together. Many memories flowed through his mind. All of them caused him to further tighten the straps of his mask. But then Jake remembered his fondest memory of his uncle and of all time. He was four-years-old, and he was having a bad day. He couldn't remember why, but he remembered that his dad dropped him off at Uncle Charlie's place because his mom and dad were both working. All day long he acted like a brat, having frequent tantrums and pouting until Uncle Charlie picked him up (much to his screaming protests), sat him down next to him on the piano bench. Then Uncle Charlie began to play and sing a little song. At first, he didn't get why or what he was singing about. He never heard of a Great Wall or China, but when Uncle Charlie began to sing "Who cut the cheese?" and made farting noises, he giggled despite his bad mood. Eventually, he began to sing a long and made farting noises (mostly farting noises). That song brightened up his mood so much, he forgot why he was so mad. Ever since then, whenever he was feeling down, Uncle Charlie would sing and play that song. He stopped doing so when he entered third grade.
Now Jake wished that Uncle Charlie was here to play and sing that song and make farting noises for him. He was having a really sucky day, and holding in all the tears wasn't helping. The straps of his mask were ties on so much that his brain was about to pop out of his head. "I really miss you, Uncle Charlie," Jake said. He wished he was four again and Uncle Charlie was alive and he was sitting next his uncle safe and happy, giggling as Uncle Charlie made farting noises. When the world seemed happy and less complicated. When everything was okay.
When Uncle Charlie was alive and breathing not a mauled corpse about to be turned to ashes
As Jake relished that fond little memory, reliving every second of it, trying to remember every little detail, the straps of his mask were beginning to come undone and tiny little cracks formed on the mask. Jake squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears. To keep his promise to his beloved uncle whom he'll surely miss.
Don't cry. Don't Cry. Whatever you do, don't cry