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31_days2007-02-19 09:35 pm
rhye.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-02-19 09:35 pm
[February 19] [Brokeback Mountain] Once Upon a Time - 19
Title: Once Upon a Time - 19
Day/Theme: February 19th/Paths Into the Underworld
Series: Brokeback Mountain
Character/Pairing: Jack Twist/Ennis del Mar
Rating: R
Chapter 19
It was daylight when Jack came to his senses. Still trapped in a horror film he couldn't escape, it came down to not knowing what else to do. Pausing for some deep breaths, and trying with all his might not to feel the discomfort each step imparted somewhere inside, he set his feet toward home. One step in front of the other. Two miles. Step, step, step. He didn't let himself think of anything else, just step, step, step, two miles. The cold soaked through his clothes and numbed the outsides of his legs, but he would rather die of cold on his journey than be found next to the bar.
The house loomed like a foreign land, maybe a fabled one he wouldn't be able to enter because he was somehow in a different dimension. He opened the door slowly and nervously. Ennis was sitting at the kitchen table looking haggard. Upon seeing Jack, he jumped up.
"Jack! Where you--"
Jack was mildly surprised that Ennis even recognized his white bird flown home black. Jack's ma turned from the kitchen where she was making something, but even while Ennis was coming towards him, Jack met his mama's eye.
"Oh my," she gasped. Jack wasn't surprised. Jack had a repertoire of shattered looks she was familiar with from his childhood. Ennis, by comparison, had seen few, despite all those years of turning Jack away. Jack had some dark lands inside that Ennis had never sent him towards.
Jack stepped away as Ennis came close, suddenly afraid of touch, of being held, of being restrained or confined or even of having his existence acknowledged. Without a word, and ashamed of the avoidance he could not control, Jack pounded up the stairs and collapsed onto his bed, slamming the door behind him.
Ennis came up, but only stood in the room for a while, pacing a little. To his credit he didn't say anything. Jack's ma brought him lunch but he didn't even turn toward her gentle voice. "Alright then, I'll leave it here by the bed case you change your mind."
Jack was trying not to think of it, but it played over and over in his head. He searched his every action and his every word for something he could have done differently. He didn't fight. Why didn't he fight? The thought of Tom disgusted him, and when he finally did get the energy to get out of bed, he showered until his skin was red and raw, just standing under the water. After the water turned cold he just kept standing there. The pain felt good all over. It was a distraction.
Ennis was back at night and laid down in the bed next to Jack. One problem had solved itself, at least. They both stayed awake, neither acknowledging or touching the other, through the long, dark night. Jack's eyes moved to watch his own private horror film. Ennis jumped at every whistle of the wind. What a pair, Jack thought.
Jack knew when Ennis got up the next day that he should too, but he was so cold and sore. He stayed in bed, eventually getting up to piss and grab a couple pieces of cake from the kitchen before returning to bed. He felt sluggish and sick. He slept off and on all day.
But at night the movie started up again and he kept awake. He thought about a lot of things, about how embarrassed he was, about how he should have fought back, about what Ennis and his ma were thinking. Sometimes he would think about better thoughts, about Ennis's girls who'd been so happy to meet him. That made him smile so he could go on for another five minutes.
The next day Ennis asked him if he was still sick. It was a convenient excuse so he mumbled something to the effect of yes. His ma brought him lunch, and today he ate it after she left the room.
That night and the next day were exactly the same, though Jack made some conscious effort not to let that movie repeat, instead trying to think of other things, Bobby's first words, the summer on the mountain, his first winning ride. Sometimes, though, the happy thoughts just made him feel worse.
It was the night after that, the third night Ennis and Jack lay silent and awake and jumpy in the bed next to each other, that Jack finally found his voice. He didn't know or give a damn what Ennis had thought was going on up to this point. Both of them knew he wasn't sick. When Jack started talking it was like telling someone else's story. It was the story of someone he didn't care about, someone he didn't know. He wasn't even talking to Ennis, just to the air, to a God he didn't believe in, to the stars themselves if they would listen. The story was inside of him and wanted out. And so, in the deep dark of the Wyoming winter night, Jack led Ennis carefully down the crooked path to the underworld.
"I'm not sure why I didn't fight." It was the thought that plagued his mind, and the first words that came to his mouth. "I could a... He's a big fellow, but..."
Jack heard Ennis stop breathing, waiting to see what was coming.
"You gotta understand I never would a wanted it. I got... real drunk. Gerr didn't want you to fire him so he let Tom-- Tom Tait?-- take me home, was goin' a bring me back here tomorrow I guess. 'Least I 'member something like that. I was really skunked out a my mind." Jack laughed a bitter laugh.
"Christ, Tom sucks at pool, and we were playin' for shots. Whenever I won he would buy me some..." The connection had fallen into place days ago for Jack, though he hadn't voiced until now, even to himself.
"'Course when we played for money he beat my ass." Another cynical chuckle left Jack's lips, and the sound was terrifying.
"What happened?" Ennis sounded dangerous, his voice clogged and clipped, trying not to betray emotion. He was biding his time, and Jack knew what would happen later.
"Drove me out somewhere. Pulled out... pulled out a little knife. I don't know.. it wasn't that big. I could a fought. Shit I was so drunk, Ennis. I was so damned drunk, an' I thought... I thought maybe I... But it isn't true. I didn't, swear to God, I didn't want this to--"
"Ssh," Ennis shushed him, but the sound was angry. "Don't you talk like that. I know it. I--"
"Ennis, I'm so sorry. I--"
"Shut up. You know I... you know--" But it was as far as Ennis got before his voice choked up entirely. His breath came in ragged bouts and then stopped entirely. When it escaped again it was as a sob, clear as day.
"Oh shit, Ennis, I'm so sorry. We'll be ok. We'll figure somethin' out. I'll figure somethin' out." Jack was wrapping his arms around Ennis, afraid of the realization that he didn't even believe his own words, didn't see how anything could be ok. But Ennis wasn't hearing Jack anyway. Ennis buried his head between Jack's shoulder and neck and cried like a child with wild abandon, sobs coming loudly, howling noises escaping between.
********
Ruth lay awake, listening to the muffled voices. She couldn't hear what they were saying, and she was secretly grateful, but there was no mistaking the animalistic noises that followed.
She buried her head in her pillow and cried silent tears between frenzied prayers. Whatever had happened, she somehow knew no one could save them from this Hell save the Lord Almighty himself.
Day/Theme: February 19th/Paths Into the Underworld
Series: Brokeback Mountain
Character/Pairing: Jack Twist/Ennis del Mar
Rating: R
Chapter 19
It was daylight when Jack came to his senses. Still trapped in a horror film he couldn't escape, it came down to not knowing what else to do. Pausing for some deep breaths, and trying with all his might not to feel the discomfort each step imparted somewhere inside, he set his feet toward home. One step in front of the other. Two miles. Step, step, step. He didn't let himself think of anything else, just step, step, step, two miles. The cold soaked through his clothes and numbed the outsides of his legs, but he would rather die of cold on his journey than be found next to the bar.
The house loomed like a foreign land, maybe a fabled one he wouldn't be able to enter because he was somehow in a different dimension. He opened the door slowly and nervously. Ennis was sitting at the kitchen table looking haggard. Upon seeing Jack, he jumped up.
"Jack! Where you--"
Jack was mildly surprised that Ennis even recognized his white bird flown home black. Jack's ma turned from the kitchen where she was making something, but even while Ennis was coming towards him, Jack met his mama's eye.
"Oh my," she gasped. Jack wasn't surprised. Jack had a repertoire of shattered looks she was familiar with from his childhood. Ennis, by comparison, had seen few, despite all those years of turning Jack away. Jack had some dark lands inside that Ennis had never sent him towards.
Jack stepped away as Ennis came close, suddenly afraid of touch, of being held, of being restrained or confined or even of having his existence acknowledged. Without a word, and ashamed of the avoidance he could not control, Jack pounded up the stairs and collapsed onto his bed, slamming the door behind him.
Ennis came up, but only stood in the room for a while, pacing a little. To his credit he didn't say anything. Jack's ma brought him lunch but he didn't even turn toward her gentle voice. "Alright then, I'll leave it here by the bed case you change your mind."
Jack was trying not to think of it, but it played over and over in his head. He searched his every action and his every word for something he could have done differently. He didn't fight. Why didn't he fight? The thought of Tom disgusted him, and when he finally did get the energy to get out of bed, he showered until his skin was red and raw, just standing under the water. After the water turned cold he just kept standing there. The pain felt good all over. It was a distraction.
Ennis was back at night and laid down in the bed next to Jack. One problem had solved itself, at least. They both stayed awake, neither acknowledging or touching the other, through the long, dark night. Jack's eyes moved to watch his own private horror film. Ennis jumped at every whistle of the wind. What a pair, Jack thought.
Jack knew when Ennis got up the next day that he should too, but he was so cold and sore. He stayed in bed, eventually getting up to piss and grab a couple pieces of cake from the kitchen before returning to bed. He felt sluggish and sick. He slept off and on all day.
But at night the movie started up again and he kept awake. He thought about a lot of things, about how embarrassed he was, about how he should have fought back, about what Ennis and his ma were thinking. Sometimes he would think about better thoughts, about Ennis's girls who'd been so happy to meet him. That made him smile so he could go on for another five minutes.
The next day Ennis asked him if he was still sick. It was a convenient excuse so he mumbled something to the effect of yes. His ma brought him lunch, and today he ate it after she left the room.
That night and the next day were exactly the same, though Jack made some conscious effort not to let that movie repeat, instead trying to think of other things, Bobby's first words, the summer on the mountain, his first winning ride. Sometimes, though, the happy thoughts just made him feel worse.
It was the night after that, the third night Ennis and Jack lay silent and awake and jumpy in the bed next to each other, that Jack finally found his voice. He didn't know or give a damn what Ennis had thought was going on up to this point. Both of them knew he wasn't sick. When Jack started talking it was like telling someone else's story. It was the story of someone he didn't care about, someone he didn't know. He wasn't even talking to Ennis, just to the air, to a God he didn't believe in, to the stars themselves if they would listen. The story was inside of him and wanted out. And so, in the deep dark of the Wyoming winter night, Jack led Ennis carefully down the crooked path to the underworld.
"I'm not sure why I didn't fight." It was the thought that plagued his mind, and the first words that came to his mouth. "I could a... He's a big fellow, but..."
Jack heard Ennis stop breathing, waiting to see what was coming.
"You gotta understand I never would a wanted it. I got... real drunk. Gerr didn't want you to fire him so he let Tom-- Tom Tait?-- take me home, was goin' a bring me back here tomorrow I guess. 'Least I 'member something like that. I was really skunked out a my mind." Jack laughed a bitter laugh.
"Christ, Tom sucks at pool, and we were playin' for shots. Whenever I won he would buy me some..." The connection had fallen into place days ago for Jack, though he hadn't voiced until now, even to himself.
"'Course when we played for money he beat my ass." Another cynical chuckle left Jack's lips, and the sound was terrifying.
"What happened?" Ennis sounded dangerous, his voice clogged and clipped, trying not to betray emotion. He was biding his time, and Jack knew what would happen later.
"Drove me out somewhere. Pulled out... pulled out a little knife. I don't know.. it wasn't that big. I could a fought. Shit I was so drunk, Ennis. I was so damned drunk, an' I thought... I thought maybe I... But it isn't true. I didn't, swear to God, I didn't want this to--"
"Ssh," Ennis shushed him, but the sound was angry. "Don't you talk like that. I know it. I--"
"Ennis, I'm so sorry. I--"
"Shut up. You know I... you know--" But it was as far as Ennis got before his voice choked up entirely. His breath came in ragged bouts and then stopped entirely. When it escaped again it was as a sob, clear as day.
"Oh shit, Ennis, I'm so sorry. We'll be ok. We'll figure somethin' out. I'll figure somethin' out." Jack was wrapping his arms around Ennis, afraid of the realization that he didn't even believe his own words, didn't see how anything could be ok. But Ennis wasn't hearing Jack anyway. Ennis buried his head between Jack's shoulder and neck and cried like a child with wild abandon, sobs coming loudly, howling noises escaping between.
********
Ruth lay awake, listening to the muffled voices. She couldn't hear what they were saying, and she was secretly grateful, but there was no mistaking the animalistic noises that followed.
She buried her head in her pillow and cried silent tears between frenzied prayers. Whatever had happened, she somehow knew no one could save them from this Hell save the Lord Almighty himself.