Title: I'll Be There
Rating: PG - for now
Pairing: Ennis/Jack
Summary: This is not an AU exactly in that it takes place after the end of the original story. In this, everything that happened in the M/SS did happen, and Jack did die… but… he is being given a chance to let Ennis know how he feels and ease his overwhelming grief… I can't say more… it would spoil it… let's just say it is a bit sad… but hopefully the ending will be happy.
Disclaimer: Although they are not mine... they will live in my heart forever...
Feedback: Yes, please... let me know whatcha think.
Author's Note: This story is inspired by a song, 'I'llBe There", by 'The Escape Club'. I have loved it for years, and somehow it just makes me think of what Jack might say to Ennis if he was able to talk to him. I posted the lyrics in the 'Pix with Poems' thread on http/ and from that point on, the plot bunny wouldn't quit hopping up and down on my head!
I'll Be There
Prologue
"Jack… wake up, honey."
Jack felt a cool reassuring hand on his burning hot cheek, and without thinking, he leaned his face into it.
The hand gently stroked his cheek and brushed his hair out of his face.
"Come on, Jack, time to wake up." The voice cajoled and the cool hand stroked across his face again, brushing hair away from his tightly closed eyes.
Jack didn't want to wake up. His whole body felt strange, no pain, just strange, weightless, and buoyant, as if he could float away if he only wanted to. He wanted to just lie there.
"Come on my little, Pumpkin Pie," the voice said again, this time softer and more affectionate.
Pumpkin Pie? Jack thought, ain't no one called me that in nearly thirty years! Only person ever called me that was Grammie Turner, and she died when I was ten!
"Grammie?" Jack whispered, his voice sounding hoarse and dry to his own ears.
"Yes, child, I'm here. Time to open those blue eyes a yer's and listen fer a minute."
"…but you can't be my Grammie, she's dead."
"That's right child, now sit up and let me see ya… been far to long, and time is goin' by. We ain't got much if'n we're goin' ta do this thin'."
The voice sounded firmer now, and reminded him of the time when he was eight, and had been climbing the apple tree out behind the barn. He had fallen and scraped himself up pretty good, and while his grandmother was cleaning him up and putting on antiseptic that stung like fire she had sternly lectured him about being more careful.
"What thin'?" Jack asked, his head clearing some, although that buoyant, weightless feeling did not leave him. Finally, he opened his eyes; though it took great effort on his part to will them open.
Looking around, he saw that he was in a small white room. The only furniture in the room was the narrow bed on which he laid, and a little table near the door that held an old-fashioned pitcher and bowl.
"Where am I?" He asked, confused and feeling a bit scared now. Looking around again, he spotted a familiar figure on the other side of the bed. He hadn't seen his grandmother in thirty years, but he would have known her anywhere.
She smiled fondly, and touched his cheek again.
"Grammie," Jack said, his voice strained and fear coursing through him as he stood up from the bed, "where are we, and how can ya be be here… unless… am I … dead?"
"I'm sorry, child… I truly am. Wish I didn' have ta be the one ta tell ya, but they thought it might be better, fer ya ta hear it from someone ya know."
"No…" Jack said, his voice raw and desperate. "No… I can' be dead! I never got ta… Oh, God… Ennis… I nev'r tole him… I want'd ta… but I never did… he needs me… he don' know it, but he does…" Letting out a sort of half cry half moan, Jack sat heavily back down on the bed, and buried his head in his hands.
"Hush, child," Jack's grandmother said, and squeezed his shoulder with a strong reassuring hand.
Jack felt his face heating up, and he buried his face further, not wanting to look at his grandmother when he said, "Ther's somethin' 'bout me that ya don' know…" his voice trailed off into a sob.
"Honey, there ain't nothin' bout you that yer ole Grammie don' know." She replied, a mixture of understanding and sadness in her voice.
"I'm sorry, I know yer disappoint'd…" Jack began, his voice sounding small, almost like the little boy he was when she had passed away.
"Now you jus' hush with that nonsense John Twist!" She huffed, and sat on the bed next to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders.
"I ain't nev'r been disappoint'd in ya, an I don't aim ta start. I watched the two of ya boys on that mountain all them years ago, and couldn' help but smile and be so proud of ya. Ya were so happy… don' recall ever seein' ya that happy, before or since. Bout broke my heart when ya went yer separate ways. I watched ya afterward, saw ya marry that little gal in Texas… purty as a picture she is… but I knew that weren' what ya wanted. Knew that blonde hair'd man didn' leave yer mind or yer heart fer even one minute. Saddened me somethin' awful to see ya tryin' so hard to be a good husband and daddy, when all along yer heart was somewhere else… with someone else, an only being happy when ya was with him."
Jack blushed at the knowledge that his grandmother had been watching he and Ennis all these years and she must have noticed the red in his face, because she hugged him and said, with an impish grin, "Don' worry honey, I covered my face during the racy stuff."
Jack blushed even harder at that, but couldn't keep the grin off his face. Then suddenly his face became sad and serious again, and he said, "What's Ennis gonna do without me? He needs me, though he won' nev'r admit it… not even to himself."
"Oh, honey… that's why I'm here. This ain't gonna be easy fer ya to see and hear, but ya need ta before I can explain what's gonna happen."
Taking her arm from around him, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small flat object. Made from glass, shaped like and about the size of a drink coaster. Patting Jack on the back, she handed it to him. Frowning slightly, Jack turned the square of glass over and over in his hand.
"What do I do with this?" he asked.
"Lay it flat in yer palm, and watch." His grandmother said, her voice grave and solemn.
Feeling almost scared, Jack laid the object in the palm of his hand. Almost immediately a tiny moving picture appeared. Jack gasped, and whispered, "Ennis…!" Then in an excited voice he said, "That's Ennis… look, that's my Ennis!"
"Yes, honey… I know… keep watching."
Jack turned his eyes back to the picture on the screen.
Ennis was at work. Seemed like that was all Ennis Del Mar did anymore. Work was the only thing that kept him going… held back that pain and loneliness that being at home in his miserable trailer never failed to bring down on him.
When the last of the stalls were shoveled, and the horses were all bedded down for the night, Ennis walked slowly across the yard, and knocked on the office door. Poking his head in through the door, he told the foreman that he was headed out and he would see him next week. Although it was only Tuesday, it was also May, which meant that Ennis had taken the rest of the week and the weekend off for his annual fishing trip.
Getting into his truck, Ennis drove quickly… faster then he should have given the narrowness of the road… into town and stopped at the liquor store. He quickly bought four bottles of whiskey, tipped his hat to the clerk, and went back out to his truck.
Before he left that morning, he had placed all of his camping gear and groceries in the bed of the truck. No need to stop at the trailer… he had decided not to take the horses with him on this trip, they were getting older, and somehow riding up in the mountains alone just wasn't as good as it had been with Jack. Hell, weren't nothing as good as it had been with Jack.
"Jack…" he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.
Dammit, Del Mar… ya ain't even outta town yet and yer already startin' in…
Ennis drove out of town, and then stomped on the gas, winding his truck up to the highest speed he dared to go without fear of the old truck falling apart around him.
Flying down the highway, he tried with little success to keep his mind from wandering back to all the other times he had driven down this same road. All them times when he had driven fast as he could because he knew that waiting at his journey's end was the one thing that made his life worth living… that when he arrived there would be a man there as anxious to see him as he was to see that man. A man with black hair, blue eyes that rivaled the bluest of summer skies and made Ennis heart thump every time he looked into them, soft full lips that felt and tasted like heaven when pressed against his, arms that were firm but gentle when they held him tight, and hands that made Ennis' blood sing and his groin tighten with only a single touch.
Not no more though… Ennis thought, his heart hurting a bit, and a tightness in his chest causing him to draw a deep breath… won't be no man there waitin' on me with open arms this time… not never again.
A single tear ran down Ennis' cheek and flowed un-hindered down his chin to drip on the collar of this shirt.
Heaving a big sigh, Ennis turned off the highway onto the dirt track that led to Pine Creek. Pulling into the open area where they had always parked their trucks, Ennis sat for a moment and gazed at the fire pit… cold and empty… and remembered how Jack had always gotten there before him and had the camp all set up, the fire going, and most times had supper cooking when he arrived.
For a second he saw Jack, rising up from the stump that he always used for a chair, waving, happy grin spreading across his face as the waited for Ennis to park the truck and get out before he ran across the grass and grabbed him in a bear hug that nearly knocked them both flat, whispering, "Ennis… ya sonofabitch… it's real good ta see ya!"
Then Ennis blinked, and fire pit was still cold and empty… the tent was gone… Jack was gone.
Taking a big breath, Ennis climbed from the truck and began setting up his camp.
Once everything was done, and the tent was set up, Ennis went to the truck and fetched the bag with the bottles of whiskey in it. Carrying it with him, he walked over and sat on the log he had always sat on, carefully avoiding the stump where Jack had always sat.
Cracking the seal, Ennis took a long hard drink from the bottle and then sat looking into the fire.
He sat for a long time, staring at the fire and drinking. When one bottle was finished, he reached for a second. Halfway through the second bottle, he let out a low moan, buried his face in his hands and began to cry. Through his tears, raw and pain-filled words spilled.
"Jack… God, how I miss ya, Bud. Wish ya was here… why… why'd ya have to go, … why'd ya leave me…I hate ya Jack Fuckin' Twist… hate ya fer makin' me need ya… hate ya fer dyin' an leavin' me here alone… needin' ya so much … I love ya, Jack… wish I coulda tole ya that…"
Releasing a loud sound… a cross between a sob and a howl, Ennis buried his face in his arms and sobbed hard, his body shaking and small painful sounds coming from deep in his chest.
In that little white room, Jack thrust the square of glass into his grandmother's hands. Tears ran down his face, and he realized that the front of his shirt was wet. His own chest ached painfully and hitched with barely restrained sobs. Though he tried, he couldn't get the sound of Ennis heart wrenching sobs from his ears. Burying his face in his hands, Jack allowed the tears to flow freely.
"Ennis… oh God Ennis… I'm so sorry fer leavin' ya, Cowboy… I didn' wanna… Oh, God… why did ya have ta show me that… I can' stand to see him hurtin' so bad, and me not bein' there to hold him!"
"John… stop fer a minute and listen to me." Jack's grandmother said, and the urgency in her voice caused Jack to raise his head and look at her.
"We don' have much time… you must listen closely to what I am about to say."
Jack nodded slowly, and wiped his eyes on his sleeve.
"Ennis has been like this for the last seven months, ev'r since he got his postcard back an found out about… yer death."
"Seven months?" Jack whispered, and felt his heart constrict at the thought that Ennis had been suffering like this for all that time, while Jack had been peacefully resting in this little room… didn't seem fair to him.
"Yes, John," his grandmother said impatiently, "seven months! He's not getting' any better. If anythin' his grief gets worse with each passing day. They don' believe that he deserves to suffer so… they have decided to help him, help him to heal. He blames himself fer what happen'd to ya… he won't let himself heal 'cause he thinks he deserves to suffer." Her words were rushed now, as though she was afraid she would not have time to say them all.
"Who's they…" Jack began, but his grandmother cut in and snapped at him impatiently in a tone that Jack had never heard from his good natured Grammie.
"Never mind that now, John! There's no time… Tell me this, do ya love him?"
"Yes, Ma'am, I love him more then anythin'!" Jack answered without a moment's hesitation, and his grandmother smiled warmly.
"Good! That's important… without that love ya cannot help him. They have decided to allow you to go back… for three days. No one will be able to see ya, ya can be heard, but few will know or believe what it is they're hearin'. Go to him, John… make him hear ya… let him know that ya are still with him… that ya are here waitin' for him and that no matter what may happen on earth, you will be here waitin' for him when his time comes to join ya!"
"How do I do that… I don' know if I can… he's so stubborn… he won' believe it's me he's hearin'…"
"Ya will figur' out a way, John… let yer love fer him help ya to find that way."
Suddenly the room began to brighten, and Jack raised his hand to cover his eyes. His grandmother's voice, becoming faint reached his ears as he felt that buoyant, weightlessness taking him over and he felt like he was drifting.
"Three days, John… don' ferget… good luck, honey! I love you… "
When Jack opened his eyes and looked around it was dark. Glancing quickly around, he spotted a glow of light ahead, and began walking toward it. Strangely, though he could see trees and logs, he did not stumble or bump into anything along the way.
When he stepped out into the clearing, he spotted the campfire and camp setup that he had seen through the viewer, and there, slumped against the log, a half bottle of whiskey still clutched in his hand, was Ennis…
