Disclaimer: All characters mentioned below belong to Harper Lee, I am merely borrowing them!
A/N: This might be a little rough because it's the first piece of fanfiction I've written in years, but this is something that stuck with me ever since I read Go Set a Watchman. This isn't much, but a silly little thing that crossed my mind after reading the book. With that being said, this falls into that universe.
Unrequited: adj. (of a feeling, especially love) not returned or rewarded.
For John Hale Finch, returning home to Alabama for the holidays brought on a mixture of emotions. For the most part he found that spending an entire two weeks with his oldest sister, her husband and their son was enough to drive him to be a borderline alcoholic. While there was some joy to be found in the company of his other two siblings, he frequently found himself missing the seclusion of his apartment in Nashville.
"Jack honey, what on earth are you doing in here?" A sweet voice asked with a hint of a laugh. "Atticus and I got here ages ago and have been looking for you everywhere!"
During his annual trips home, he frequently found himself finding solace in the office that once belonged to his father, nursing a bottle of scotch that belonged to his brother-in-law. At the sound of his name, he quickly looked up from the glass he was drinking from and was greeted with her charming smile.
Jean, his brother's wife of nearly a year. Even though she and Atticus were married for such a short amount of time, Jack had gotten himself acquainted with her throughout the time that Atticus had courted her.
And he had fallen in love with her.
He knew his feelings for her were wrong. He knew that the way his eyes lingered on her was wrong. He knew the way he thought about her was wrong. He knew that he should stop himself, out of respect for both Atticus and Jean. But, he couldn't find himself changing because he would rather love her in secret than have nothing at all.
"I was just in here thinkin', darlin'." He responded with a smile as she crossed the room to hug him.
"You've always been so contemplative," she said as she stood back to examine him with a smirk on her face. "Zandra sent me to look for you because supper's ready."
Although it was not Christmas yet, he knew that Alexandra would have a marvelous spread prepared for the evening. Ever since he was a young child, Jack always thought that his sister had been born knowing every recipe known to man. She was a natural cook and hostess. It almost made him sick.
Quickly, Jack downed the remaining liquid in his glass and refilled it before quietly following Jean towards the dining room. "I found our elusive guest of honor," Jean chimed as they were greeted by Atticus, Alexandra and her husband and son. "He was hiding in the study."
With a chuckle, Atticus greeted his younger brother with a hug. "It's good to see you, brother." He grinned. Over Atticus' shoulder, Jack saw Alexandra scowling at him. It was only his first evening home, and he was already wearing her thin patience.
"Well, dinner's ready." Alexandra said shortly. "If we wait any longer we might as well call ourselves wasteful."
"We weren't waitin' that long," Atticus responded playfully as they took their seats. "It could have been like that time when Caroline, in a fit of anger, decided that she was going to lock herself upstairs and daddy wouldn't let us eat until he got her down."
Now that lightened Alexandra up. With a stifled laugh she said: "It took him hours to calm her down from whatever fit she was having. It was nearly nine o'clock when we finally had dinner and we were all so tired we barely ate a bite anyway!"
Jean and Atticus chuckled together. "Why, Atticus told me that story so many times that each time I hear about it I feel like I actually lived it."
Jack felt a sudden pang of jealously as he took a stiff sip from his glass. He wasn't quite sure what brought it on, but he found himself feeling quite stupid for being so childish. His cheeks were burning so furiously he was almost certain that everyone would notice. "I'm pretty sure I fell asleep at the table that night," he chimed in almost painfully as Zandra and Atticus erupted into laughter.
"That's what makes the story so great," Atticus smiled. Jack noticed that he not only served himself from the dishes set out before them, but was gingerly putting food on Jean's plate as well. He quickly shifted his eyes away from his brother and took another sip of scotch.
Family dinners were always excruciatingly long for Jack, but once he had drained his glass from all of its contents, it had gotten worse. He was silent, almost awkward, as he tried not to put too much focus on Jean and the way that Atticus' arm was wrapped around her small shoulders. Or the way her eyes glistened when she laughed or looked at her husband. He knew that Jean and Atticus loved each other deeply and that he would never be able to have her, but it still felt like such a painful wound deep within his chest, so that he found himself getting increasingly flustered in her presence.
The wound did not feel much better when out of nowhere Atticus happily said: "Brother, I hope you'll be able to make this trip twice next year, when the baby comes in the fall."
It nearly felt as though he had been kicked in the throat. Before he could say anything, Jean jumped up. "Honey," she laughed. "Honey, I thought we weren't going to say anything for a little while. It's still a little early..."
Atticus looked embarrassed. "Oh my," he chuckled as he took his glasses off and wiped them on his sleeve. "I guess I let my excitement get the best of me."
Jean smiled and kissed his cheek as Alexandra nearly jumped out of her seat to hug her sister-in-law. "I guess that's understandable, sweet." She said playfully. Atticus was still a light shade of pink.
"Oh, a baby!" Jack had never seen his sister so beside herself with joy as her husband, Jimmy, shook hands with Atticus. "I've been waitin' for the two of you to announce this for the longest time!" Jack figured that since their mother was no longer alive to pay such attention to her son's personal life, Zandra had to be her replacement.
Finally, Jack found himself smiling. "Why, I'm sure I would be able to make two trips next year—it'll definitely be well worth it!" He was happy for his brother and Jean, he really was. However, at the same time he found himself wanting the earth to open up beneath him and swallow him whole.
While his sister eagerly talked to Jean about what joys babies were and Jimmy and Atticus exchanged some sort of small talk that Jack wasn't too interested in, Jack rose from his seat and grasped his glass. "I'll be right back, I'm going to fill 'er up."
The moment he turned his back to the dinner table, the smile slowly left his face. Quickly, he shut the study door behind him and crossed the room and filled his glass once more. In two sips, he downed the glass and refilled it, drinking it just as abruptly as before. He had told himself that he would go back to the dining room, but instead he kept drinking.
He wasn't quite sure why he felt this way. He knew he would never have her, and the fact that she was married to his brother should have shot down any feelings that he had. But, for some reason that meant nothing to him, he still loved her even though it was wrong. If he had just squashed those feelings like he should have, he would not be hiding in his father's study acting as if something had been stolen from him.
Jack had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the soft knock on the door, or the hinges squeaking as the door opened slowly. It wasn't until she was standing before him, her face flushed and the ghost of a small smile on her face. "Here you are again," her voice was light, almost angelic (though he was so enamored by her that this very well could be an exaggeration). "I'm sure it must be a complete shock being around so many people when you are so used to living alone."
She was making small talk, trying to find a way to bring him back to the dining room. Maybe she was even worried by the fact that he found so much comfort in being alone with his bottle of scotch. "It seems like you've been very thoughtful today, you've barely said a word all evening."
Maybe it was all of the scotch in his system. Or, maybe it was the fact that she simply looked so beautiful that he could not take it anymore. Either way, almost as if it was against his will, he found himself sputtering out the words: "I'm in love with you."
He had expected the look of shock that came across her delicate features. However, he did not anticipate the tears that came shortly after. Quickly, he felt his heart rise to his throat. "Jean," he coughed.
"I was hoping it was just a rumor," She responded tearfully, looking increasingly guilty. "I was hoping that it was just some dumb idea that made its way into the head of Stephanie Crawford or something."
So, she had known his little "secret". Almost immediately after she said that, she shot him a pained look. "Oh Jack, I didn't mean—"
"Don't." He croaked, immediately regretting what he had said. She immediately looked down to her feet, gently wiping her eyes. "It is a dumb idea,"
That didn't make things much better, a small sob escaped her throat as she covered her mouth. "Jack." She was trying to sound firm, but her voice was wavering with emotion.
"How long?"
"Shortly before you and Atticus got engaged."
She remained silent. He watched her push her foot into the carpet, and it looked as though she was trying to dig a hole in it. He watched the silent tears fall down her cheeks. "I feel like a fool," she finally whispered.
"You do?" He asked, perplexed. "You're not the one in love with your brother's wife."
That made her look up quickly. He couldn't tell if she looked angry, hurt or sad. Maybe it was a mixture of all three. She stammered for a moment before saying: "Well at least if I had known I could lay it to rest."
"You basically admitted that the entire town knows, darlin'."
"You know how catty women can be."
"Beside the point, I don't think it could be laid to rest."
She exhaled sharply and locked eyes with him. "It has to be."
That hurt him. He knew that she was telling the truth and he was a fool, but he still felt the wound deep within his chest burning as it was pried open. He went to pour himself another glass of scotch. "Stop drinking," she said, almost harshly as he stopped dead in his tracks. "I think you've had enough."
"This was a mistake." He said.
"Well, we can't go back now."
"Of course we can, we can go on living life like normal."
Her lips quivered. "You expect things to be normal after you say something like that?"
"I'm mighty good at pretending. Didn't you know? We Finches are pretty good at sweeping things under the rug." He responded smugly.
"Well I'm not."
They stood there in silence for a moment. He placed his empty glass in the palm of his hand and observed how cool it felt against his warm skin. Progressively, Jack felt himself growing hotter and hotter. Whether it was from all of the alcohol, or the sheer embarrassment of the situation he was currently in, he was not quite sure.
"Honey…" She said slowly. "Jack. I love your brother, I love him with all of my heart."
He swallowed. "I know," he said solemnly.
"And I love you, too," she wrapped her arms around her waist, as if to hold both herself and her unborn child. "But not like that. You're a good brother and a good person and I'm very lucky to have you in my life, but-"
"You don't need to say anything else."
"But I do! I can't leave this room knowing that you're hurt, I need to explain…" She had to pause to stop herself from crying harder. "You're my husband's brother and I care about you and I can't have you being resentful towards him because of this. You can feel however you want towards me, but it'll kill your brother if something damaged your relationship with him, he loves you so much—"
He felt ashamed as she looked down again, covering her eyes with her hands. "Nothing…I would never…" He swallowed. "I will always have respect and love for my brother. For both of you."
She sniffed and looked up at him again. "I'm sorry, Jack." She said as she furiously rubbed at her eyes.
"You have nothing to be sorry for."
"I feel plain stupid."
"Let's just pretend nothing happened," he pleaded. "Just pretend this is all something that bat Stephanie Crawford made up."
She forced a laugh as she wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I guess that's all we can do," she said. Her eyes met his for a moment before she slowly turned to leave the room.
"Jean?"
"Yes, Jack?"
"You'll make a wonderful mother."
She closed her eyes and smiled gently at him. "Thank you, dear." She said softly before she left, shutting the door behind her.