Sorry for the slow update, I'm still having trouble with writer's block. I decided to try doing a 5-1, but it ended up just being a 5 (you know, five times this happened and one time it didn't, that sort of thing). It's five times Jack protected Emma. I re-wrote this a good three times before I was happy with it, but I finally feel it's good.
On another note, HOLY BUDDHA IN A DIED PINK TURBAN! 196 reviews! You're all amazing! I love you guys so much, you have no idea! Please keep it up, reviews mean so much to me! I LOVE YOU!
Seven year old Jackson Overland stared into the crib, where the bright red and screaming baby desperately kicked against the swaddling clothes. The young boy frowned as he peered down uncertainly.
"Her name is Emma," his mother smiled. "She's your little sister."
"Like Mary?" The smile slipped slightly.
"Yes, like Mary." Jack was silent for a minute, studying his new sibling. Her fingers were tiny, as were her toes, and her face was a scrunched up mess as she noisily alerted the world to the fact that she was not happy! "She's a little bit..."
"Small?" supplied his father, eyes twinkling. "Loud? All babies are, Jack." Jack turned, frowning in annoyance as he crossed his arms.
"No. She's a little bit perfect."
Emma Overland was a year old, and was learning to toddle. She and Jack were playing on the grass outside the church as the congregation milled, taking the opportunity to catch up with each other. Mrs Overland was a little way away, talking to her sister, Jack's Aunt Agnes. Jack had been put in charge of Emma while they waited. He grinned, gently letting go of her hands as she took a few steps forward by herself. However, the grin dropped away when the little girl tumbled forward, hitting a rock and starting to cry. Jack rushed to her aid.
"Shh, little bit," he said gently, rocking her to and fro. He'd called her that since she was born, and whenever he was asked he simply replied that it was because she was a little bit. It didn't make sense to anyone else, but that didn't really matter to him. "It's okay, I got you, no need to cry."
"Look!" The two daughters of the Mr Williams, ten year old Phillipa and eight year old Jane, stared at Jack. It was Phillipa who had shrieked, and was now pointing at Jack, a nasty smile playing around her lips. "Jack's got a baby!"
"You look like a girl!" Taunted Jane. Jack stuck his tongue out, before smirking as he shouted back
"At least that makes one of us!" The Williams girls glared furiously, blushing red as the other children laughed.
"You'll be sorry for that!" screeched Phillipa, before grabbing Jane's hand and tugging her away. Jack just hugged his sister tighter.
"Don't listen to them. I'll do anything for you, little bit."
"Is there any more?" asked Emma, staring at the pot hopefully. The plates, which less than ten minutes before had held steaming piles of Irish stew, were now licked clean, the last dregs of gravy mopped up with the coarse bread that was all they could afford at the moment. Mrs Overland smiled a tight smile.
"No, Emma, there's not."
"But I'm hungry," she sniffled, blinking furiously to keep back tears. She was only five, and didn't yet understand that winter was a tough time. They simply couldn't afford to eat any more now, lest they starve in two weeks. Jack leapt to his feet and grabbed her hand.
"It's okay, little bit! You'll feel better after we go put the chickens to bed!" He was twelve years old, nearly thirteen, and had lived through enough winters to know that the best way to deal with the gnawing hunger in the belly was to simply ignore it.
Emma beamed beatifically, and slid off her chair, letting Jack lead her out to the barns. When they arrived, he looked around shiftily, and dropped to his knees in front of her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"You can't tell anyone about this, okay little bit?"
"Are you going to play a trick on me?"
"What, me? Do I look like I'd play tricks?" She nodded gravely. "Okay, yeah, you're right. But this isn't a trick: this is an important secret that will make you feel better. So, do you promise?"
"I promise." Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his dinner roll, which he had slipped into his pocket during the meal. Emma's eyes widened in delight, and he smiled gently.
"Remember when we went for that walk last week?" She nodded. "Well, the wood elves saw you. They thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, and when I told them that you've been hungry they felt awful. So, they decided to give you a lovely fresh roll every day for the rest of the winter. Does that sound good?" She nodded it again, and he passed her the roll. It was gone in seconds. "Feel better?" She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck.
"Yes. Tell them thank you for me?"
"Anything for you, little bit."
"What are you up to, little bit?" Six year old Emma Overland looked up in surprise, her lower lip quivering dangerously. Jack's signature grin dropped from his face and he knelt down before his distraught sister. "Hey, little bit; what's the matter?"
"Peter h-h-hit me, and he a-and David pushed me into a p-puddle!" she choked out, eyes swimming with unshed tears. "And they l-laughed at me, and they called me stupid, and Jane saw, and n-now she's telling the whole t-t-town!" Jack pulled his sister into a hug as she began to cry in earnest.
"Sh, it's okay little bit. I'll make sure they don't do anything like that again, okay?"
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The next day, Jack headed down to the clearing where he and his friends always met, expression thunderous.
"Uh, Jack, are yeh all right?" asked Will O'Reilly. Jack ignored him and marched straight over to David and Peter.
"You think you're real clever, picking on a little girl, don't you?" David at least had the grace to look apologetic, but Peter just rolled her eyes.
"Get over it, Jack; just because your little sister is a whiny, spoilt little-"
Jack came home that evening with a cut eye, a split lip and a very smug expression. Mrs Overland took one look at him, opened her mouth, decided she didn't want to know, and went back to cooking dinner. Emma was horrified.
"Jack! What happened to you?" He laughed, and scooped her into his arms.
"I ran into some ferocious trolls in the forest! They wanted to cook me and eat me for dinner, but I fought them off! When I beat them, they said I may ask a boon of them!" Emma's eyes widened.
"What did you ask for?"
"I asked them to take care of the boys who were bullying my little sister!"
"Did they?"
"Just look over in church tomorrow; you'll see just what a good job they did." Emma wriggled down, and grabbed a dried flower that she had carefully pressed the spring before.
"If you see them again, will you give them this? To say thank you!" Jack grinned and carefully pocketed the delicate bloom before reaching down to ruffle her hair.
"Anything for you, little bit."
"Mr O'Reilly offered to teach me my letters today." Mr Overland looked up sharply. Emma was seven, and Jack was fourteen, and they were sitting at the table with their parents. Emma ate steadily, but Jack ploughed his way through. His parents were hoping he would finally bulk out- at the moment he was as skinny as a rake. "If I spend an hour a week chopping firewood, then he say he'll spend an hour teaching me my letters."
"Oh? And what did you say?"
"I said I would think about it. Knowing my letters could be useful." Mr Overland nodded, considering it. "Pastor Jones said that it will help me with my bible studies; and I need to know them if I ever visit the city." Mrs Overland shook her head- Jack was always talking about visiting the city, going on about how big the building were and how grand it would be to ride in a carriage.
"When will you do your chores?" asked Mr Overland.
"It will just be an hour a week, pa, don't worry; I'll still get all my chores done." His mother smiled.
"So are you going to say yes, then?" He nodded.
"I think I will; it sound like it will be interesting, and I'm the only boy he's made the offer to- he told me that he didn't want to be teaching a big messy rabble. I'll go over and talk to him tomorrow." Emma looked up from the roast, her expression thoughtful.
"I'd love to learn my letters; then I would be able to write my own letters to St Nicholas, instead of Pastor Jones having to write them for me." Jack grinned across the table at her.
"Well, I can ask him if he'll teach you too."
"Really?!"
"Jack, I don't think that's a good idea," began his father. "You just said he only wanted to teach one person their letters; 'sides, she's a girl, she can't chop firewood, and I-"
"It can't hurt to ask!"
"Please, papa! Please!" Faced with the full force of their matching puppy-dog eyes, Mr Overland had no choice to relent."
"Very well; don't come crying to me if he says no, though."
The next day, Emma raced out to meet Jack as he returned from his visit.
"What did he say, what did he say?!"
"You're going to be learning your letters!" Emma squealed in excitement and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"We're going to be learning them together!" If Jack's smile slipped slightly then Emma didn't notice. He hugged her back.
"No, I'm going to be out back, chopping firewood." Emma hesitated, looking at him in confusion. "He showed me a book with the letters in, and I realised it was far too complicated for me. Besides, I love chopping firewood! It seemed like a much better thing to do!"
"So I get to learn my letters, and you get to chop firewood?" Jack nodded, and she squealed again. "Mr O'Reilly is so nice! Will you take me over to him to say thank you?"
"Anything for you, little bit."
"Come on, little bit! It's time for your lesson!"
"Don't call me that, Jack! I'm not a little bit any more!" Jack raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? And what are you, then?"
"I'm a lady."
"You're a little one at that!"
"Jack!"
"Okay, then- come on, little lady, it's time for your lessons."
They walked slowly over to the O'Reilly house, Emma chattering all the while. Jack rolled his eyes to himself- little lady. Yeah, right. She was still his little bit.
An hour later she raced out, clutching her letter to Saint Nicholas. They walked down to the town hall, where the clerk promised to get it delivered as soon as possible.
"Mr O'Reilly gave me three slips of paper and a bottle of ink for Christmas, Jack, so that I can practice my letters on them instead of in the dirt!"
"Did he now? You can use them to write my Christmas list to St Nicholas, seeing as you're so sure I'm on the nice list."
"Not now! You promised you'd teach me how to skate!" Jack paused as she wriggled onto his shoulders, and then resumed walking.
"You know, I think I did. Maybe. But wait- do little ladies go skating?" She cuffed his head.
"Yes, they do!" He held up his hands in surrender.
"Okay then, little lady; I suppose we should go get our skates. My old ones should fit you." They stopped by their house, where Jack managed to convince Emma to walk, and grabbed the skates.
"Be careful!" Mrs Overland called after them.
"We will," he grinned. After all, when was he ever not careful with Emma around? They got to the frozen lake, which was a fair way into the Burgess woods. Jack helped Emma get her skates on before turning to the pond. "Okay, give me a second little lady: I just need to make sure this is thick enough to skate on." He grabbed his staff, which Mr Overland had given him the month before, and strode onto the ice, banging it and listening to the echo.
"Aren't your feet cold?"
"A bit, but I didn't think to bring any shoes with me. Besides, I'll have my skates on in a-" he was cut off by a sickening crack.
"Jack!" He whipped around, and his heart froze when he saw the cracks in the ice beneath Emma's skates. He immediately crouched down as the ice beneath him began to crack too.
Keep her calm. Keep her calm.
He barely knew what he was saying as he tried to soothe her, desperately trying to come up with a plan to get them off.
"You're going to be just fine;" he suddenly alighted on an idea. "We're going to have a little fun instead." He showed her how to play, then watched with baited breath as she tried.
"One." The ice cracked more, and she looked up at him in fear. "Two. Three!" Just in reach! He hooked her with the end of his staff and flung her to the edge of the pond, the momentum carrying him to where she'd been standing.
She's safe he realized, and a grin lit up his face. Suddenly, the ice beneath him gave a final crack, and he dropped through to the frigid water below.
"Jack!" he heard her cry. He tried to struggle, to get back to the surface, but the cold was freezing his muscles. Darkness was creeping over him, but his lips twitched into something resembling a smile as one last though passed through his conscious.
Anything for you, little bit
