Another 5AM fic-splosion. These happen way too often when I should be sleeping, not that I'm complaining. As always, if you enjoyed it, please review, I love to know what you guys think of my fics. If you didn't enjoy it, review anyways, let me know what I can improve!

As always, these characters are not mine, as much as I wish I could take them both home and just protect them and love them!

Anyways, enjoy!

Ennis sits bolt upright in bed, craning to look out of the window of his trailer. There are lights coming towards it, which strikes him as strange considering it is the middle of the night, and everyone he knows would be asleep. He checks his watch just to make sure he hasn't overslept and sure enough, it 's 2.30AM, much too late, or early for anyone he knows. He swings his legs out of bed and his feet touch the cold floor, and a shiver runs up his spine. His pajama bottoms aren't doing much to shield him from the cold night air. Wading through the mess of empty liquor bottles and beer cans, he goes outside and stands on the top step, shielding his eyes against the harsh headlights of the car that is speeding towards him. Not thinking to move, his mind just runs through all of the possibilities of who could be inside it.

The car skids to a stop a little ways away from the trailer and the person who gets out looks very familiar to Ennis. The walk, the frame, the hair, the clothes but his mind refuses to let him believe it, but as the figure walks towards him, there is no denying who it is. But nothing's making sense.

It is taking every ounce of self-control that Ennis can muster to stay there on the step and wait, and every muscle in his body is trembling with a want to run to him, to take him into his arms and never let go. No, he lets the man approach him, and he sees that it is who he'd thought.

As he gets closer, through his drunken haze, all Ennis can do is stare. It is him, all 6 foot of him, perfect pale skin, perfect light brown hair, perfect twinkling blue eyes that Ennis had always been able to just get lost in. It's Jack, and all he can do is stare. He takes in his clothes, he takes in the way he stands, his hands on his hips, staring back at him expectantly, "How 'bout it, Cowboy?" He says, his voice just the way Ennis remembers it, and that simple phrase, one that he's heard a thousand times before, is enough to snap him out of it, and he leaps down the step, throwing his arms around Jack, holding him tighter than he ever had, and he feels Jack's arms around him, too. The other man's shirt is rough on his bare skin but he doesn't care, all he cares about is the warmth he feels through the fabric emanating from Jack's skin, the way he can smell the other man's scent, cigarettes, cologne and a hint of something, possibly whiskey, or was that on his own breath?

He pulls away slightly from Jack and stares at his face. It is exactly as he remembered, only he looks younger, which is strange, but Ennis is so happy to see him that nothing can take away from the moment. He kisses him with as much passion as he can muster, holding his face in both of his hands, and he can feel Jack's hands on his pants, grabbing at the fabric.

All of a sudden, he feels complete again. He had expected never to see Jack again, he had almost come to terms with the fact that he'd lost his chance with him, that he'd fucked up, and now Jack was gone, but seeing him again makes his heart swell in a way it hasn't since his daughters were born. Just to feel the man's breath on his cheek is something he will never ever take for granted ever again. He takes him by the hand and leads him up the steps to the trailer. As he's ascending the steps, he looks back over his shoulder at Jack, who smiles so beautifully he feels like he could die a happy man, right there. He feels a squeeze on his hand, and he returns it, and as they enter the trailer, Jack closes the door behind him.

They unclothe in silence, their eyes never leaving one another's until their lips connect again, and then the only seeing that they do is with their hands. It feels good to feel Jack's skin again, to be able to run his fingers through his hair, to taste his lips, the whiskey flavor something that he only ever tastes when he was with Jack. He struggles in his mind to come up with a way to describe Jack, and finds that that in itself is enough. Everything he does, everything about him is just so very Jack, and that makes him happy.

They make love by the light of the moon shining in through the window, and when they're done, they lay tangled in the sheets, naked, the chilly air biting at their exposed skin, but Ennis doesn't care. All he wants to do is keep ignoring the things that don't make sense, to keep pushing them into the background for just another minute, to keep them at bay for as long as he possibly could.

The things that don't make sense prove to be too much to handle because suddenly they all burst to the surface, forcefully like a fountain, and Ennis can't handle it. He puts his hands over his ears and shakes his head.

"This don't work, Jack. You're not meant to be here. I don't understand how you're here. And how come I look my age but you don't look a day older'n when we met for the very first time? I'm confused. You're supposed to be dead."

Jack doesn't answer. He just stares into the air, his eyes suddenly blank and dull, not the eyes that he loved.

"Jack?" He prompts.

Jack continues to ignore him.

Ennis begins to panic, he can feel it in his chest, he can't breathe, it's like someone is sitting on him, "Jack, please."

Nothing.

He begins to sob, "C'mon little darlin'… Gimme somethin'…"

Nothing still.

He sighs.

Jack turns to look at him, the twinkle returning to his eyes, "I love you, Cowboy."

Ennis sits bolt upright in bed and feels around beside him. A dream. It was a dream, a goddamn bitch of a dream. The bed is empty and suddenly it feels like the weight of the world on his shoulders again, but he would swear he can still taste whiskey on his lips.