I dreamed a dream
He was idly switching from radio station to radio station, when a soft voice and a phrase caught his ear.
"I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living'
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted"
He never heard songs like this, not his style.. but the words pouring out of that old, battered radio were making him remember, making him think… making him hurt.
"But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame"
He remembered the beginning, being young and hopeful in his way, dreaming of having his own ranch, of being his own person away from the shadow of a cold childhood. And then Brokeback happened… and it got him good. Those dammed sheep, that endless sky, that man… that man. It was the best summer of his life, the first time in his life that he felt… cared for, like somebody actually gave a thought to what happened to him, to who he was.
''He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came''
Not that he would have really admitted that to himself, not back then. He couldn't say that he loved another man, desired another man, wanted to spend his life with him, no matter how much dreams of such a sweet life haunted him. He was no queer, and such a thing just wasn't done. So he got of that mountain, and the real world caught up with them, real life overtook the dream.
Four years went by and then… that reunion, that kiss, that longing. By then, he knew it had been love, knew what a mistake it had been to let each other out of their sights. But it was done, and they had to stand it, 'cause they sure as hell couldn't fix it now. Still… the fishing trips were never enough, never enough. Too fast, too powerful, too little, too soon. It was like having a sip of water when dying of dehydration, and that sip driving you mad instead of giving you comfort. He still dreamed his dream… but it turned to torture, over the years.
"And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather"
Near twenty years now… and he could feel himself dying inside, every day, every hour, every minute. Dying, shutting down, drowning in bitterness, in lost hopes, in the inevitability of thinking of him, in the futility of bringing him to his mind and dreaming… But he had to stand it. Right?
"I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."
The lyrics struck him then, harder than a fall off a frisky mare. His life was almost gone… and he hadn't lived any of it, not really. All he had were fractured dreams and memories he relied on to get him through his miserable existence, memories he needed more than breathing, even if they were a poor substitute for the real thing. He pictured his face then, saw the man he loved, throughout the years. His face at the beginning, mirroring his strange fear and exhilaration at what happened to them… his quiet, hidden sadness when they parted. That disbelieving happiness and amazement when they saw each other again after four years, that something in his embrace that let him know that they were at last, at last, complete once more. And then, the fishing trips. The way he looked like he'd finally come home when they met up after a few months… and the small shattering, the poignant heartache he tried hard to hide every time they parted.
But he was getting worse at hiding it now, much worse… because all those heartaches had broken his heart in the end, near enough broken his spirit. Broken both of them, really. And he couldn't pretend he didn't see anymore, didn't feel it as well.
The last trip had been rough, bittersweet. They fought at the end, finally let out so much that they had been keeping back. And it was far too long until they saw each other again… it was always too long, but this time it was almost too much, he could barely breathe sometimes.
The song came to an end then, the quiet desperation in the singer's voice mirroring his own feelings. Life had killed his dream… life, and his own actions. He recalled the last time he saw him, the last blessed second. Those eyes… not bright and hopeful anymore. Just tired, too heartbroken and bitter.
Tears sprang to his eyes then, tears of mourning for the dream he had dreamed, tears for the man he had broke, tears for his own empty husk of a self.
He couldn't stand it anymore. Not anymore…
So he decided to fix it. It could be too late, but he had to try,
His trembling hand picked up the phone, he shakily dialed and tried to calm his ragged breathing.
"Hello?", answered a familiar voice,
"Jack?" he whispered.
Author's note: ok, I guess Andrew Lloyd Webber might kill me for this, but I heard this song sung by a man… and it made me cry! Then Brokeback took over, I could just picture Jack thinking this. And then imagined Ennis hearing his thoughts. It is my first ever fanfic, hope it's not too dreadful! Also, English isn't my first language, so if there are any horrid mistakes let me know.