Must I say that I do not own Brokeback Mountain or its characters? I'm not THAT big of a genius…
Jack's eyes fluttered open and then closed again. He was comfortable. He could feel the sun shining down on his body. He breathed in a sleepy sigh, catching a familiar scent. He paused, his breath catching in his chest. He slowly untwined the fingers of his right hand from his left where he had had his hands folded on his chest.
With his index finger he slowly tipped up the brim of his black hat. The light that suddenly reached his eyes made him squint slightly. His eyes opened back up though, widely. He pushed himself up to sit. His eyes filled with awe. A smile found his dropped jaw. He had woken up on a warm summer morning. He had woken up breathing in the crisp scent of the pine forests and the fresh mountain air. He had woken up on Brokeback Mountain.
The sky was bright and blue; lined with a few white, fluffy clouds. The pine forests seemed to go on for miles over land that rose, bended and curved. The grass around him shined with dew. He felt that familiar sense of peaceful isolation.
He looked back at the dark green lump of thick cloth he'd had his head rested on beside the moss-covered log. He picked it up, feeling the woolen lining on the inside on his old green coat. He dropped it, seeing his hands for the first time. He studied his palms and the back of his hands. His gaze traveled up an arm clothed in a long-sleeved blue shirt. He touched his stomach, and his neck and he touched his clean-shaven face. He could feel a difference in himself. He didn't feel depressed and worn as he had remembered once feeling.
He didn't feel startled as a dog he hadn't noticed sauntered up to him. The dog sniffed his face and gave him a big slobbery greeting. Jack scratched the dog behind the ears. He noticed for the first time the sizable herd of sheep; bleating and grazing in the field of grass. He turned and looked back at the golden mare grazing quietly behind him, swishing her black tail.
Jack smiled. He pushed his coat back onto the log and laid back down against it. He let his hat fall over his eyes and he folded his hands over his chest. Something inside of Jack sparked serenity. It all felt natural to him. There was no world outside of this. There was no life. There was no death. There was no society. There was nothing to hide. There was no reason to say, "Fuck Aguirre!" for there was no Aguirre. There was no need to fight with Lureen's old man, trying to prove himself the better man. Hell, there was no Lureen! There was no Alma…All there was…was Brokeback Mountain…him…one day, Ennis…
Jack's eyes drooped sleepily. Upon his last thought, he drifted back to sleep against the log.
Ennis lie with his head rested on the wrist of his right hand that held the small pocketknife. Limply lay his left hand, with the carved horse lying in his palm. The creek outside the tent ran over the rocks quietly. The sunlight pressed against the tent flap, lighting up the interior.
Ennis's eyes fluttered open, blinking blearily as the darkness of sleep left him. He took in a long breath through his nose, expanding his chest that it made a part of his spine crunch. His awareness spread slowly through to his limbs. His fingers twitched and then grasped the objects in his hands.
His eyes opened fully, and he stared questioningly at the pointed ceiling of the tent. His eyebrows lowered, and his eyes looked left and right. As he slowly became more aware, he started to hear the sounds of a creek, birds chirping, and the padding of a horse's hooves.
Ennis's body finally allowed him to sit up. He looked at the pocketknife and the whittled horse in his hands. This seemed familiar to him. But how could that be?
Ennis set the objects aside, quickly swished the tent flap to one side. The sunlight and the cool forest air hit him full on. He squinted against the sun that shined at such an angle that it was directly in his eyes. The circle of rocks that was the fire pit sat idly, without flame. The branched logs that encircled the camp sat proudly, covered in moss, surviving though they were fallen. The creek flowed under the bridge that was made of two long trees and boards nailed between them. His dark brown charger stood, grazing on the dew-covered grass.
"What in Hell," His eyes widened and he shook his head vigorously. He rubbed fiercely at his eyes and looked again. He reached up and brushed back his bangs that he felt tickling his forehead.
In his mind rang thoughts of confusion.
"Shit." He mumbled, looking around the tent and the camp again. His eyes fell onto his horse. The dark mount nickered quietly, raising his head. His eyes rolled at Ennis.
Ennis looked toward the mountains, and the questions left him. He grabbed his hat and jumped from the tent. He hurried to where his saddle lay, slipping his hat onto his head. He threw the rug over his horse who pawed at the ground and whinnied, sensing that his rider would soon mount. He hastily cinched up the saddle, his hands trembling. He let the stirrup down and hooked his foot into it, grabbing the saddle horn and mounting.
He had hardly seated himself when he kicked his horse in the side. "C'mon, c'mon." He urged as the charger took off through the trees.
Jack stirred. The dog beside him whimpered quietly, and gave a short bark. Jack jumped, and lifted his hat. He squinted in the light, not all surprised by the mountain scenery. He looked at the herd dog next to him, who lay with his tongue hanging from his mouth. The dog whimpered again and Jack reached over and patted his head soothingly. "Easy boy." Jack murmured.
He shifted, ready to lie back again and to let his hat fall back over his eyes but he paused. The dog barked again. Jack cocked his head to one side, listening. Something was coming. A fast horse.
Down the field, Jack saw a dark brown horse come bursting through the trees. His heart rose to his throat at the sight of the rider who wore a tan jacket. "Ennis." He whispered before his breath seized in his lungs as he clumsily struggled to his feet. The dog that had been lying beside him had gotten up and run out to greet the horse with his tail wagging. Jack ran after him.
"Ennis!"
Ennis dragged on the reins, and jumped from his horse before he had even stopped. His feet hit the ground. He stumbled slightly, and hardly managed to take a step forward. Jack leapt from the ground, ringing his arms around Ennis, tackling him to the ground.
They went down onto the grass hard, making Ennis grunt. But he felt no pain, even as he panted from having the air driven from his lungs. His arms wrapped tightly around Jack who was nearly strangling him. But it was Jack. He could smell him. He could feel Jack's chest heaving against his own. He could feel the warmth of his body heat.
"Jack fuckin' Twist." He murmured. He heard a chuckle wisp from Jack's lips. Jack unwrapped his arms from Ennis's neck and braced his hands on either side of the bigger man, lifting himself up.
He lovingly studied Ennis's features, as Ennis was doing to him. Jack touched the side of Ennis's clean-shaven face. "I think I remember you had big sideburns." The cloudy memory struggled in Jack's mind as he spoke with a smile. Ennis smiled up at him, his hands gripping the back of Jack's shirt to keep him from moving or possibly disappearing.
"I've been sleeping a long time, waitin' for you." Jack's smile softened slightly. He slowly leaned down. He expected slight hesitation from Ennis because that was how he had remembered him. But Ennis surprised him by dragging him down, and capturing his lips.
Ennis had spent long years in his trailer, working hard for small amounts of money, and being haunted by the past. Pausing whenever he opened the small closet, to look at the postcard and the meaningful way another man's shirt had been tucked into an old shirt of his own. Just getting older.
He remembered that only vaguely now. But he could remember the ache that had burned his heart. The regrets he had when it came to the times he'd shared or could have shared with a dark haired boy he'd met in a summer job. The pain no longer shadowed him as he grasped the real Jack Twist in his arms. He no longer had questions for his surroundings, for his acceptance had come slower than Jack's had.
There was nothing else in the mountains that had become a never-ending world for the two.
A heaven.
A place just for them.
Their paradise.