We see things differently
After reading the wonderful Chapter 16 of Blood and Stone I kept wondering how the next few hours and days would play out and had to write this to get it out of my head. I am VERY thankful to Seldarius for giving me permission to build on the wonderful story she has written and make this public (fan fic on fan fic). You will need to read up-to chapter 16 of that story before reading this. In which Jack finds not everyone shares his view on the events of the past and learns Miss Fisher has given him more than just herself.
Authors note: This short chapter is my first contribution to this site and the first time I have written any fiction for more than 30 years (yes revealing my age).i am very nervous about putting this up and see every error - but since I enjoy what others write (and they no doubt have similar fears) I have taken the plunge. Please be gentle.
This is the first installment of what I think will be two chapters, it needs to be read in conjunction with the developments in Blood and Stone as I can't solve the mystery that runs in parallel to these events.
First a warning (and an apology) – this brief chapter provides my thoughts on war, I have tried to express these sensitively and I sincerely hope they do not offend anyone who has served so valiantly now or in the past. I value the contribution that you make and if I express this poorly it is my lack of skill not my lack of appreciation.
As with others who have written I thank Kerry Greenwood for these wonderful characters (we owe this all to you) and to the ABC for taking those stories and bringin them to life on the screen. (Please give us a Season Three)
I own no rights on any of these characters. I only enjoy.
"Alright, Miss Fisher." He heard himself say coldly, before he could change his mind and defuse the tension some other way. "You win. I will tell you what's bothering me and if you can't sleep either then, you can blame yourself for not letting it rest."
The story continues ...
He had seen the fear in her eyes. In his anger he had pulled off his mask. Shown himself to be what he truly felt he was. Now she knew he was a cold blooded killer, a murderer, no better than those he sent to hang. No better than Foyle the man he knew she hated with every essence of her being. As he stood in the rain Jack felt the anger wash away leaving only the emptiness and self-loathing. He wanted nothing more than to have Collins slap him in cuffs and take away. Unfortunately that option didn't seem to be on offer and he could only retreat further into himself.
The walk from her gate took with it the hope and the dream he had begun to believe in. A dream that somehow the war, his war was over; a dream that he might once again be able to hold someone, to love someone who loved him back; a dream of a night without dreams. Able to go no further he found himself beside the river, silently he stopped and slipped to the ground.
In the end it was Mac found him a few hours later when she was finally able to leave the hospital, respond to Dot's call and join the search for the missing policeman. She hadn't stopped to go via Phryne's St Kilda home, she knew her friend was alive and not injured, (Dot would have been more frantic if it had been otherwise) and whatever had happened Phryne had Dot and Mr Butler to care for her. But she guessed, as he hadn't gone back to the station, his home or the local pub(all places Dot had said they had (very discretely) checked) Jack was alone, and that worried her greatly.
Her experience sent her to the river; her intuition sent her to the shallow grave site where Foyle had buried Janie so many years ago. It was a place that haunted them all. Her intuition rewarded her, and only a few meters from the track she saw him: sitting forlornly, his back against the tree they had sheltered under that awful day; his head lowered, turning his police revolver over in his hand.
Disregarding the rain, and the impact on her clothing, Mac sat on the ground beside the man, letting him get comfortable with her closeness before saying anything. Silently he sat looking at the ground, yet the slight change in his breathing told her he was aware of her presence. Gently she touched his arm 'Jack' she said, her voice as light as her hand. Reluctantly he turned to look at her, she could see the emptiness in his eyes, she could see the pain in his heart. It was a look she had seen before and, like her friend earlier in the day, she was afraid.
'I am a no better than him Mac' he said, 'I hunt down men who have taken the lives of others, hunt them down to bring relief to the family and friends who have suffered loss at the hands of these monsters, I hunt them down so we can hang them. But I have killed more men than any of those I hunt down. Who will bring relief to their family and friends, who will hang me? ' He asked desperately. They were the same words he had shouted at Phryne this morning, the same words that had revolved around his head throughout the afternoon.
Mac held his hand as his body shook, her eyes never leaving his. She had heard these words, or ones like them, too many times before and she knew there were no real answers. She knew too, despite everything she and Phryne had seen, or had done during that dreadful time, the scenes replaying in Jack's head would surpass her worst nightmares. Scenes he could never forget, actions he could never take back. He would never see himself as the hero the world, and people like his former wife wanted him to be. Yet she had to give him something, for Jack and for Phryne. He might be Phryne's lover but he had become her friend and she didn't walk away from her friends.
'Jack' she said, still holding his eyes with hers. 'It was a war, the war to end all wars. Dreadful things happen during a war. Things we would never do in any other time or place. At the time we believe it is right, we believe it is the only thing we can do. We do it so that our children and our children's children will never have to do these things themselves. I cannot take away the things you did, the things you had to do, and I don't think war is good but I do know that you, and every other man on the front, did those things because they believed it was the only thing to do at the time. But the war is over, and we need to let the world know it isn't the right way to resolve our differences, if we don't tell them they will never know. They will repeat our mistakes. We can't let them do that we need to be here to help them; otherwise every life that was lost was lost in vain.'
Mac stopped, rarely did she reach out on such a personal level, rarely did she speak so passionately but this wasn't a patient this was a friend and she spoke as a friend. So she continued: 'a war is about ideas about values, we fight to protect what we believe in and to protect the people we love. We fight for others not for ourselves, I am not saying I like it or that it is the right thing to do, but it isn't you who took each of those lives; it was us, as a nation, as a society, we just asked you to be the one to fight for us, because we were afraid. We don't ask you to be responsible for our fear; we can't let you do that too.' Jack looked at her, the poignancy in her words and her eyes reached into the emptiness that surrounded him. No-one had talked about the war this way before, no-one had been willing to share his pain. Though the darkness he realised Phryne had shared more than herself when she let him into her life she had shared her friendships and knew he had one more thing to be indebted to her for, one more thing to loose (or was it something to hang on to).
In the shadow of Janie's grave Mac wasn't going to let him go easily she wanted to do more than just bring him back from the edge. She had to convince him to value himself. She had more to say and this was as likely as not the only time he would listen to anyone in this way. Jack was a policeman and, from what she had seen a dam good one and she wanted him to value the contribution that he made. ' You are not a bit like Foyle, or any of those others, each time you hunt down a murderer you protect the values you fought to uphold , you remind the families of Melbourne they can feel safe in their homes. Your actions, now and always have been honourable. Foyle and the others have always, and only, been about themselves and about the pain they can inflict on others. I have never thought you took joy in inflicting pain, even on those you hunt down. Rather than hang you we should be protecting you, supporting we let you yet you keep supporting us.'
Mac had almost finished, there was one more thing she wanted to say after which next words had to be Phryne's and she had to trust she knew her friend as well as she thought she did . 'I don't know what went on between you and my disreputable friend this morning but I can guess. The foolish woman loves you so much that she wants to know every part of you. Stop isn't a word Phryne is inclined to hear and sometimes she just goes too far too fast.'
Without breaking the moment Mac took the gun from Jack's lap where he had let it fall as she spoke, carefully handing it back to him. Turning it over in his hands for a final time. Jack looked at the weapon, like Mac he knew how close he had come to using it on himself, like her, he now knew he wouldn't take that final step he returned the gun to its usual place on his hip.
Finally acknowledging they were both wet and cold Mac rose from her position holding her hand out to Jack. He took it pulling himself to his feet. 'Will you come back with me? ' She asked, shaking the rain from her hair and attempting (in vain) to make her clothing somewhat more presentable. 'I'm not sure I will be welcome' Jack replied desperately hoping he was wrong and somehow there was enough left after the devastation he had wrought that morning to let Phryne forgive him. 'There is only one way to know, and to be honest, we could both do with some dry clothes' she said with a wry smile as she moved towards the car. Hesitantly Jack followed, he was more than grateful for Macs words but still wondering what would his relationship with Phryne after this morning, after last night.