bowl_of_glow: (J&E_reunion)
[personal profile] bowl_of_glow
A/N: Many many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] bruxa_zero for giving me the permission to use her beautiful collages a while back. :)
I know there are some mistakes, they’re all mine. Sorry.
And even if I don't have the time to read right now, I'd like to thank all those people who take the time to share their writing with all of us. You're great guys. :)
Title: Words unsaid
Genre: canon/ drabble
Warnings: dead!Jack
Disclaimer: The characters of Ennis and Jack were not created by me, but by Annie E. Proulx. No infringements or disrespects intended.




Words unsaid

It was right after Jack’s death that the weight of all the things unsaid and undone finally crashed on Ennis: something that suddenly brought him the awareness of having left so many things unfinished with Jack, the sensation of still having a lot of things to do, but no one to do them with anymore.

Ennis realized this with a painful clarity sometimes, a clarity that took his breath away and made his heart ache terribly, and he couldn’t think about it for more than a few minutes because it was almost too much, too much to bear.
And it was like that thing from which he’d been running away for most of his life had eventually caught up with him, and that awful sensation that had followed him and Jack for years during their reunions and fishing trips made sense at last: that sensation of never enough time, never enough, and now there would be no more time at all.

And Ennis wondered sometimes if Jack had meant what he had said that last time they’d seen each other, if after all those years of delaying and denying he had managed to say the unforgivable and do the irreparable, pushing Jack away for good, Jack who never gave up, Jack who always found a way to come back.

Ennis’d often told himself that no man on Earth could possibly break that stubborn spirit that was the very core of Jack’s being, but the look on Jack’s face when Ennis’d met his eyes for the last time had told him otherwise: that look screamed defeat for maybe the first time in years, and Ennis had seen in front of his eyes a broken man. And so now he wondered... was it really him? Was it him the one who had drained Jack’s strenght and hope, or it was life that had beaten him up and burnt him to ashes?

Ennis was afraid of the answer, but no one had one to offer him anyway.
And deep down he knew he could swear in front of those old shirts all he wanted- swear to Jack and swear to God and to whoever he pleased, desperatly trying to fix what he couldn’t stand anymore- it was always too late to take back what had already been said and done.

And when he lay awake in his bed at night Ennis tried not to think about Jack too much, but as he drifted to sleep his mind always betrayed him, for Jack nearly always apperead in his dreams and Ennis was helpeless against it: fighting it couldn’t prevent it from happen, it never worked, like it hadn’t worked for a lot of other things in Ennis’s life, like feeling the way he felt about Jack, like trying to protect Jack from that thing that in the end had happened anyway.

Still, Ennis hoped that despite all the things unfinished, unsaid and undone, Jack knew all the same the only thing that had always mattered, that Jack knew what he’d never heard from him because Ennis had never had the courage to acknowledge it, even though he had always carried the consciousness of it inside of him.

So, when he dreamed about Jack, Ennis often dreamed about telling him the words he never, ever had the strength to say, but that Jack deserved to hear.
When Ennis did it in his dreams, Jack rarely answered, and most of the times he just looked at Ennis with that sad, broken look on his face, and with a hint of pity in his eyes; a look that made Ennis’s heart sink every time.
Ennis still had to figure out what that meant, if Jack was denying him the forgiveness that in his heart of hearts he knew he was looking for, or if maybe it meant it was just too late for that, ‘cause he should’ve said it while he still had the chance.
And now that chance was gone, just like...
Just like he was gone.

But then there were times... times when Jack replied in kind.

“I love you, Jack,” Ennis said, his voice and whole body trembling, for it took a lot of strenght to say it and he guessed he’d always been the weak one in the end.

“I love you, Ennis,” was Jack’s quiet reply. “I’ve always, always loved you.”

And although he was whispering, those words sounded clear and loud in the still air, floating towards Ennis like a gentle breeze, light and soft, kissing his skin, caressing his heart and filling it with a joy so great he felt like bursting in tears.
Words Ennis never had the chance to hear when Jack was still alive, and he wasn’t really sure if Jack was watching him from above now, as he liked to think when he felt lonely, but he suspected that sometimes, just sometimes, it was Jack the one murmuring into his ear those golden soothing words, allowing him to find, at least in his sleep, the peace he knew he didn’t deserve.




Collage made by [livejournal.com profile] bruxa_zero
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