Day or Night
by Cel140
My first one-shot of many dedicated to our beloved Constabeth/Jackabeth :D
Category: Canon divergence
Rated: K
Setting: a little while after 1x07
"Knock on my door day or night."
Jack's words rang through Elizabeth's head, and she just couldn't fall asleep. She hadn't been able to anyway. The way Jack had taken her trembling hands in his warm and protective ones, the way such a reserved man had made himself so open to her-
She felt guilty to wake him at this time of night for such a trivial matter as her not being able to fall asleep, but he had said that even if she had the smallest of cares that she could still count on him.
And so Elizabeth slipped out of bed to get dressed. She put on a simple gown that she could get into easily enough and wrapped herself in her warmest of shawls. She took her latched boots, but she didn't think of her hair, preffering to leave it cascading over her shoulders in soft waves. She felt so much freer and comfortable when she didn't have to bother with all the fancy hairpins, silky hair ties, or curling irons for that matter. She just wanted to be herself, even if it was just for tonight.
Satisfied, Elizabeth took the lantern off her night-table and exited Abigail's house as quietly as possible. As she expected, there were barely any people around. A few were still in the saloon, but they were mostly just the staff cleaning up the tables and dragging out the last of the stubborn and sometimes even drunk customers. It always unnerved her a little when they would try to resist, but at least there were never any serious brawls over it. She prayed there never would
For the rest Coal Valley was eerily quiet, and had she been a good deal younger, Elizabeth might've felt intimidated and leave her visit to Jack for another day while the sun was still out.
The darkness, however, no longer frightened her. She felt entranced by the eyes of the people in heaven looking down on Earth in the form of twinkling stars, the general peaceful atmosphere.
But she still wanted company. She still wanted someone to share this beauty and tranquility with, to take comfort in them, and to finally relax herself.
She knew Jack would do it for her. He'd promised with so much fervor that he would.
Elizabeth arrived at the jail quite quickly, but now that she was here about to likely awake Jack from a deep sleep, she felt guilty. Her fist hovered uncertainly over the door, too undecided to take a definite course of action. Maybe it was better to return home and hope this little walk would've relaxed her enough. It certainly cleared her thoughts, perhaps it would help her fall asleep.
But on the other hand, it was a long cold walk back to Abigail's home. Jack was sure to have the closed fireplace going.
Elizabeth let out an exasperated puff of air and watched as it visibly condensed in the cold air.
Just one knock. Then, if he didn't answer, she would go home.
Before she gave her mind a say, she'd wrapped her knuckles softly but loudly against the door. Then she moved back a little and waited.
Silence met her untimely call, and such a profound silence it was that Elizabeth wondered if he was even in there at all. She walked across the jail's porch to see if any of the lights from inside shone through the window, but it was really unnecessary.
A patter of feet was heard across the floor boards, and then Elizabeth heard the sharp sound the door being unbolted. It swung back only a little on its hinges but the abrupt sound made Elizabeth turn just in time to see Jack's face peek out through the crack.
"Elizabeth," He said, his tone full of pleasant surprise, "What-"
"I couldn't sleep."
The words were out of her mouth before she could invent an excuse, and she inwardly kicked herself. Never in all her life had she sounded so pitiful, so small, as if she was just a dependent little five-year-old all over again. If only she could take her words and put them back inside her mouth.
But Jack, as he often did, surprised her. His look wasn't condemning or even pitying, it was understanding and comforting.
"Come," He said softly, pushing the door open a little more so that she could step inside, "I couldn't either."
Relief and warmth washed over her all at once upon stepping inside, and as she did she quickly noted Jack's informal clothing. He was wearing the grey cotton shirt that was part of his long johns. It was buttoned, but its low cut exposed the strong curve of his collar bone. He looked so comfortable in his faded brown trousers and casual boots that for a moment Elizabeth felt guilty that she'd disturbed probably one of the few evenings where he could finally sit down and relax without a care in his industrious mind.
He, however, removed her worries by closing the door behind her and stretching out his arm towards one of the chairs in his small office.
Elizabeth gratefully took it, for it was placed right next to the fireplace. She eased into it and watched with interest as Jack closed a folder on his desk. She couldn't say for sure, but she thought she'd seen a glimpse of a pencil drawn landscape. It had looked quite complex.
"Do you want a blanket?" He asked abruptly as he stored the folder into a drawer of his desk, "It's a bit chilly."
Elizabeth tore her eyes away from the drawer and down shyly at the floor before giving a slight nod of her head. He walked across the room in large steps to quickly retrieve one from a wardrobe in the corner. She expected him to simply hand it to her, but Jack took it upon himself to unfold it and wrap her up.
His hands pushed the fabric over her shoulders and so close they were to her that Elizabeth had to simply reach up to clasp them. The craving was strong and yet something in her prevented her from doing so. Instead, she buried her hands deep inside the blanket to compensate for the missed opportunity to feel his warm palms against hers.
"Thank you."
Jack somehow knew she wasn't thanking him for giving her the blanket, "What do you mean?"
"For being here for me, even after everything that's happened."
And now, Jack realized everything was her general term for the ordeal with Billy Hamilton. But she really didn't have to thank him. His duty as the Constable of Coal Valley at the very least wouldn't have allowed Billy to take advantage of her. There was, of course, a far stronger motivation. He had masked it as concern, and though he will admit he was concerned, he had been jealous too.
Terribly jealous.
He'd experienced the nagging twinge in his early years when his childhood sweetheart would've gone off to chat and twirl her hair at one of the other boys, but those tinglings were nothing compared to the sharp pangs he'd felt seeing Elizabeth with Billy.
Every look they shared had been like a stab to his heart, every kiss that unworthy skunk had pressed into her delicate hand had made his blood boil. Seeing them together had been unbearable, but being at odds with Elizabeth had been unthinkable.
"You don't have to thank me," He assured her, "It was the least I could do."
Jack proceeded to pull out a chair and he settled down a little ways from her, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable.
"Is that why you couldn't sleep? Because of the skunk?"
Elizabeth let out an amused exhale through her nose and smiled faintly at the very accurate characterization of the con-artist. He beamed at her, proud that his words had brought some joy back into her tired and saddened features.
"Yes," Elizabeth sighed, a thoughtful smile crossing her lips, "The skunk."
Jack sighed too and chuckled.
"And you?" She attempted to be humorous, "Art project?"
He looked suddenly very serious and she wished, for the second time today, that she could put those stupid words back inside her mouth.
"Actually," He replied, a little stiffly, "It relaxes me."
Elizabeth was surprised and embarrassed all at once. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her lips separated. She knew Jack had a respect for art and artists, but she could've never imagined that the same hands that handled ruffians would be capable of such beauty she'd been given only a small glimpse of.
"I'm sorry," She apologized, her tone considerably humbled and faintly hopeful, "I don't suppose you would let me have a peek?"
Jack immobilized her with his spell-binding gaze for a moment, and in the dark earthy blue depths she saw a warmth begin to stirr. Elizabeth could swear she'd never seen it before, and the effect it had on her was ethereal. She no longer felt stupid for what she'd said, or even for coming here. His forgiving eyes were all the reassurance she needed to know they were alright again and that he was more than glad to share his album with her.
Holding his index finger up just long enough to make her understand that she was to wait, Jack rose out of his chair. Strolling across the room towards his desk, he opened the mysterious drawer and took the album out. Elizabeth's anticipation grew as he leafed through the pages, looking for something that she couldn't quite see. He didn't seem to have found it for he let out a small grunt of exasperation but sat down all the same.
"I was going to give you a recent one," He explained, leaning back a bit, "After class tomorrow. I was going to tell you that someone gave it to me and that the artist was anonymous, but I guess I've always wanted you to find out."
Jack flipped the album open to the fourth page, and Elizabeth gasped at the beauty of the landscape she was shown. It was mesmerizing how realistic it was!
The subject of the drawing was the magnificent view of towering mountains standing black against a bright horizon. The rising sun glowed just above and a circular ray of sunlight that Elizabeth had only ever seen caught on camera shone down so perfectly that her only explanation for its startlingly realistic appearance was that Jack had somehow trapped the light inside the paper. From one of the snow capped mountains came rushing a small stream that grew ever wider as it sped downwards till it grew into a river and then into a large and profound lake. She stared disbelievingly as she took it all in and completely forgot about what Jack had said earlier, that is, until he pointed out a spot in the corner of the page. Cleverly placed in between the grass Elizabeth saw, written in Jack's artistic cursive, the initials J. T.
"Oh, Jack," She breathed, her eyes flitting up to his, "It's amazing!"
A dimpled smile flickered across Jack's face as he shyly dipped his head, "It's just an old hobby of mine."
Elizabeth raised her brows, reprimanding him for his modesty and admiring him for it all at once.
"How long have you been doing it?" She asked, feeling very tempted to flip the page so that she could see more.
"Uhm, well, as I recall," His gaze strayed to the upper right corner of his eyes, thinking back a bit, "Eversince I was twelve."
"Twelve?" She repeated. She couldn't help but adopt a disbelieving tone. Although it had been a decade and four years since Jack had been that age, Elizabeth could barely believe that a person could learn how to draw this realistically even then. She had met artists thrice Jack's age who had been practicing their trade all their life, and still many of their depictions hadn't looked half as magnificent as this.
"Yes," He confirmed, "My mother had a great love and respect for art. She wasn't an artist herself, but she did teach it to her students. Her eye for technique and symmetry was very impressive. She taught me, and for some time I considered actually becoming an artist-"
Jack trailed off, and a sad look glinted in his eye.
"Jack?" Elizabeth asked softly, "What's wrong?"
"My father was a Mountie, Elizabeth. I felt torn between following in his footsteps and following my own dreams. That is, until my mother passed away."
Elizabeth let out a soft, sympathetic sigh.
"It was from a broken heart. I took it as a sign that I was to become a servant to those around me, to help those in trouble, to comfort the broken hearted."
"And there's nothing more noble." Elizabeth whispered wholeheartedly.
He swallowed hard and shut his art album. Something like a protective wall flickered in his eyes, building up and trying to strengthen the barriers he'd built around himself when he'd first come to Coal Valley. Elizabeth wasn't sure exactly what he was trying to block out, but when he rose to his feet and was about to walk away, Elizabeth knew that he had begun to slip away from her again.
Catching his forearm, she called out his name in a quivery tone.
"Jack, what's wrong?" She asked, shining blue orbs staring up at him, "Was it something I said?"
Her eyes were so sad. They begged him not to be upset, begged him to say something, begged him to confirm that she hadn't hurt him and that it wasn't her fault the ice was beginning to form around him again, blocking her out.
Jack couldn't take it. How could he do this to her! How could he rebuild his barriers when he himself had said that life was too short to hold onto petty grievances? How could he deny the truth of his reason for becoming a Mountie when she'd left her own life like an open book to him?
He couldn't with hold any longer. Whatever it was that was preventing him from being completely honest and open had to be removed at once. No more half-truths.
"It's not your fault, Elizabeth," He sighed, submitting to the light tug of her hand on his arm and taking his seat, "But my mother's passing was only part of the reason I left a possible artist's career to become what I am today."
Elizabeth bit her lip expectantly. Her wide eyes were dazzling in the candlelight, so big and beautiful and hopeful. She badly wanted to know, he could see it too well.
"Remember what I said about Mounties not marrying?"
Elizabeth's brow crinkled softly, not quite understanding what that topic had to do with his becoming a Mountie-unless he wanted to be a bachelor all his life-but still she nodded.
"As I saw my mother slowly slip away after my father's passing, I could barely contain this overwhelming sense of grief. I was so consumed by it, I could barely think straight anymore-"
He swallowed hard, for he was now feeling all the more vulnerable. He wanted to stop, to ask Elizabeth to forget everything he'd said, but it was too late for that now. He had to tell someone.
"And when the time came for me to make a choice, I didn't send my request to enter into the Academy because of my own grief. It was because of my mother's. After seeing, even just for a short time before our uncle took us in, the pain she went through-I never wanted to put anyone through the same pain. I never wanted to open myself up, for-" He shuddered ever so slightly, "Fear. Fear that I would find someone who really cared for me. Someone who might just love me. Someone whose heart I might break, just as my father's passing broke my mother's."
"That's why you said Mounties never marry," Elizabeth whispered, her tone grieved as the realization dawned on her, "You weren't saying it because you thought a woman might not be physically strong enough, you were worried her heart wouldn't be."
Jack nodded.
He had told her as much before, but she'd always figured it was because he thought women were simply too weak or too delicate to be constantly moving around. She felt suddenly very stupid for having thought so little of him. His respect for each of the women in Coal Valley was clear to see. She'd seen him prove it over and over again. When all the widows in Coal Valley had attempted to go into the mine to accomplish something seemingly impossible he had tried to stop them all, not for of their gender or their supposed weakness, but because he was concerned for each and every one of them. When he'd seen that they would not be swayed, he supported them wholeheartedly.
When Rosaline had gone missing Jack hadn't said it aloud, but when he'd beamed at Elizabeth upon finding the little one, that action proved that he couldn't have been more proud of the widows and of her for their persistance and bravery.
Elizabeth drew in a deep breath, but when she tried to speak again she found that she couldn't think of any way to respond. She wanted to give him a great word of wisdom that would bring him comfort, or maybe an encouraging statement to make him understand that he wasn't alone and that she understood, but nothing would come out. How could one reply to such a confession?
"Jack-" She finally uttered to break the seemingly immense silence, but he interrupted her.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you with my troubles, it's probably not what you needed to hear."
Elizabeth felt the urge to contradict him, but she just couldn't put to words what she was feeling on the inside. She sat tongue-tied for a moment, watching the firelight dance along the creased lines of his brows as he looked away. The words she wanted to say weighed on the tip of her tongue like lead, too hard and heavy to articulate.
She tried over and over again, but the longer she didn't speak, the harder it became to voice her thoughts. Finally, she could take the silence no more. She knew that she might embarrass herself or say something stupid, but if there was even the slimmest chance that what she forced out of her lips was going to comfort him, she would gladly take the risk.
"Jack," She said, not too loudly but clearly enough not to give her any room to hold her tongue, "There is no need to apologize for opening up."
He shook his head softly, as if to say it still wasn't something he wanted to trouble her with. His lips tightened ever so slightly, making her heart sink. She couldn't just leave, even if he was trying to dismiss the whole conversation. She had to speak, or else she would never have any peace of mind.
"You have every right to express your feelings," She continued, "They shouldn't be kept bottled up, because that just makes us miserable."
Jack sighed slightly.
"I've never told anyone," He admitted, "Everyone thinks it is solely because I'm following in my father's footsteps, but they have no idea what really happened."
His voice became strained with emotion near the end and he clenched his jaw to will the pain away. Elizabeth could barely believe Jack had only ever shared this with her. She expected him to have told his brother, a close friend, or a relative? He probably had plenty of them, and yet he chose to tell her; the rich girl from Hamilton who just happened to cross paths with him. The one who'd insulted and glared at him, the one who wouldn't listen when he was trying to protect her from a gold-digging scum.
"Why didn't you tell anyone else?" She inquired softly, trying to wrap her head around it, "Why me?"
"I didn't think-well, actually, I knew they wouldn't know what it felt like for me. They care about me, but in the end none of them would be able to understand."
Jack tossed a little twig into the fire to emphasize his point and Elizabeth watched as the flames lept momentarily, sending off tiny sparks. Her heart quickened ever so slightly, for although he had not answered her question, the possibility that they might be thinking the same thing set off a little spark in her; the kind that grows stronger every moment and kindles a flame of hope in one's heart.
He hesitated a moment before meeting her gaze, and if she had expected it to be meek or withdrawn, she was taken by surprise. They were strikingly calm, determined, and portrayed his emotions far better than she could attempt to explain with feeble words. Fortunately for her, she didn't have to.
"I know it seems crazy," He continued, picking up his previous line of thought, "But you're the only person I've ever felt comfortable talking to about this. You're, well-easy to trust."
Elizabeth was shocked by the heartfelt compliment. Her sapphire eyes widened ever so slightly and for a moment Jack knew for certain that the tiny shadows on the corners of her mouth were actually the beginnings of a touched smile.
"That's kind of you to say," She whispered.
"It's the truth."
It was stated so simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The crinkles along his brows faded away slowly and were replaced by the fine lines of his dimples. He chuckled softly to her elated surprise and the lines deepened into a charming full-blown grin.
"How ironic," He sighed, "You came here to relax and I'm keeping you up."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest reassuringly, but what came out instead was a soft little yawn. She gaped and futilely covered her lips, horrified.
"I'm sorry," She quickly apologized behind her slender hand, "I didn't mean to, I-"
"It's alright. At least I succeeded in boring you to sleep."
Elizabeth thought he was serious and was beginning to panic a little, but when she noticed his eyes her shoulders sunk in relief. Twinkling with mirth they were, and so much so that it made Jack look like a schoolboy again, full of mischief and humor and mystery. Elizabeth couldn't keep in the laughter bubbling in her throat and let out a breathy giggle.
"Thank you Jack," She said, a smile still teasing her lips but meaning every word.
"For almost putting you to sleep?"
She slapped his arm playfully, "You know what I mean."
He smirked a little, and she sunk back in her chair. The comforting warmth of his presence right beside her, the monotonous crackling of the fire, and the peace of mind she'd achieved by coming here caused her eyelids to begin slipping shut, but she forced herself to sit up and open them. As tempting as it was, she needed to get back to her own bed.
"I should go," She stated a little louder than before, more to stop herself from changing her mind than to get his attention.
Jack looked a little disappointed, but he resigned himself to her wishes. Elizabeth stood and unwrapped herself from the blanket, shivering softly as it fell from her shoulders onto the chair. He knew it would be best not to walk her home as Abigail was sleeping, so he stood up to wish her goodnight on her way out.
The firelight no longer illuminated their faces as the walked towards the entrance, but Jack spotted Elizabeth's soft smile when he opened the door for her.
"Goodnight."
"You as well."
She looked flustered for a moment and then quickly bowed her head and turned away. She made the first step down the jail's porch but just as Jack was reaching to close the door behind her, she swirled round and called his name.
Chilly night air seeped through Jack's shirt, but the warmth of her smile in the moonlight made him numb to the cold.
"I'm glad you confided in me."
A small grin separated his lips and he nodded. Upon this acknowledgement, Elizabeth turned once more and walked off into the shadowy night.
Jack stayed a moment longer on the doorstep before closing it and making his way back inside. The warmth in his chest from seeing her grateful smile remained there, and the weight of his mother's grief seemed to have lifted and blown away like chaff on the wind, leaving him feeling so light and relaxed. Like he'd finally let go of the past and had his eyes set on what the future may bring him, not on what the past had brought to his father. It was so liberating, he could barely believe it was possible.
But it was.
With the toothy smile still curling his lips upwards, Jack stepped away from the door and laid down in his bed. No sooner had his head hit the pillow he was whisked away into a strangely familiar world in which a beaming brunette angel, an ethereal creature, was actually anticipating to come to him and to simply sit by him. Whether they were silent or held a conversation, she enjoyed every minute. Whether laughed about good times or were somber, she was content.
Rain or shine.
Day or night.
Yayy! I'm so happy I finished this! I hope you all enjoyed all this fluff and that you will leave me a fave, and\or follow and comment to let me know what you think!