I didn't mean it.
Jamie hadn't left his room or said a word for hours. He was called for dinner, but he had no appetite. He lied on his sheetless bed, clutching his pillow as he mulled over the cruelty he'd spit out at his own brother. Where had such malicious words come from? How did he ever apologize?
I'm sorry, Jack. He cried in his head and buried his face into his pillow. He didn't hate him. He wasn't even mad at him. But Jamie had never had to process grief before, unlike him. No one in the family knew how Jamie would behave when he was running on pure emotions, whether he'd shut down or explode. It appeared to be a conglomeration of both.
He thought about what Pippa would say, Don't you dare hide your feelings from me.
...He missed Pippa. He missed her sweet voice, her melodic laugh, her fiery-red hair. Even though he would like to see Caleb, Claude, and even Monty again for some sense of familiarity, it was Pippa he longed for most of all... but she wasn't even there waiting back at the fjord.
The house was relatively quiet that evening. Mary didn't even have anything to say to Jamie when she came to their room to get ready for bed. However, she did mutter, "You should tell Jack you're sorry."
"I don't know how." He croaked.
Mary hadn't expected that response and she looked at him, full of feeling. She awkwardly rubbed her arm, "Maybe ask him if he needs help with the dishes. Oh—wait, Elsa's helping him."
"I don't hate Elsa," Jamie whispered, admitting it to himself. "I'm glad she makes Jack happy."
"Then why'd you say you didn't like her?"
"I don't know."
A quiet moment went by, the two at a loss. Mary sensed it then—her intuition told her just what it was that was haunting him. "Do you miss Pippa?" Jamie looked up at her. "I miss her too... Sometimes I forget that she's even gone. Being mad about it isn't going to make it any better."
"Jack said there was nothing for him back at home... Maybe there's nothing there for me either."
Mary grimaced, her voice becoming soft, "...You've got me. We've got Jack. He and Elsa are gonna take care of us. That makes me happy." She paused, her voice strained, "I know Pippa wouldn't want you to be sad like this. She always wanted us to be happy."
That made Jamie break and he was reduced to a sobbing mess, though quietly and into his pillow. Mary crawled onto the bed next to him and held his hand. Comforting people wasn't quite second nature for Mary, but she'd learned well enough from years of watching their beloved, red-haired friend.
...
When Elsa had fallen asleep, Jack found himself struggling just to close his eyes despite how exhausted he was—physically and emotionally. He crept up out of bed and out to the living room where he lit a small fire. Sitting in front of it was soothing; sometimes he just liked to watch the flames.
He hoped this would eventually make him feel relaxed enough to go back to bed, but the day's argument kept rattling in the back of his mind, how it had all gone unresolved. He knew Jamie didn't actually hate him, but to see him angry enough to say it at all was what was hurting him.
Things were supposed to be better since they got away from that freak. Why were they worse? His brother knew that he was a murderer... how could he ever live with that? How could he raise a child when he'd taken the life of another human being? His father had killed their mother, what if he hurt somebody else? Elsa? The twins? His baby?
Jack was pulling on his hair when he heard the wooden floor creak and he looked over to see, "Jamie?"
Jamie nervously played with his hands, "I was thirsty." He fibbed. Their hearts were pounding in tandem, neither having seen the other since the fight that morning. Jack nodded silently and looked away so Jamie could get his water.
He suddenly recalled, "Fuck, I forgot your sheets–"
"It's fine. Mary and I put them on."
Jack was surprised to hear it; Jamie always needed Jack's help with his bedsheets since the mattress was too heavy to lift. "Oh. Good." He replied succinctly.
"How come you're not in bed?"
Jack lied, "I was cold."
Jamie wordlessly and cautiously approached, startling Jack when they were but inches away. Without letting himself hesitate, Jamie walked forward and hugged him softly, leaving Jack in slight disbelief. He could only sigh in relief as he hugged him back.
"Jack... I don't hate you."
Jack simpered, "I know." He pulled away, caressing his cheek, "I shouldn't have yelled at you."
"It's fine that you yelled at me. I was mean to you."
"That's not an excuse... and you were mad. I know you didn't mean anything you said."
"I didn't mean it when I said I hated you..." Jamie clarified, but was afraid to go on and cause another fight.
Jack calmly asked, "What can I do to make it better, then?" Jamie shrugged. "There's gotta be something."
"It's not like you can bring Pippa back..."
It all made sense to Jack now, how for Jamie, seeing Elsa and him together was almost like seeing what could have been for him and Pippa. It reminded him of a future he couldn't have with her, and it enraged him among everything else that was troubling him. Jack sighed, "No... I can't... But Jamie, listen. There are a lot of other girls out there, some you'll like a lot, maybe even the one you'll want to marry." Jamie looked at Jack like he'd lost his head. "I know right now, because you're hurting, it's hard to let go of Pippa. But there'll be someone out there just like her, someone you'll care about just as much. You're still a kid, though. You've got plenty of time before all that."
Jamie was quiet as per usual, taking his words in.
"Jamie. I want to ask you something now." Jamie turned to Jack. "...How long have you known our father's dead?"
"...Since yesterday." Jamie stopped. "I—I heard you screaming the night before, then I heard you and Elsa talking."
"Does Mary know?" Jamie shrugged. Jack didn't know if that made it better or worse. "Listen to me." He made sure Jamie was facing him. "...I promise, I—I didn't want to do it. It was... in the moment. I was angry and scared. I didn't want him going after us and hurting you two ever again."
"He was going to hurt Mary." Jamie reminded. "I wanted to bite his fingers off."
"Then you understand," Jack exclaimed, "he was a dangerous person."
"Why'd he do that?"
"I don't know." Jack answered, exasperated. He'd been asking himself the same question for nineteen years. "But it doesn't matter; because now it's over."
"...Was he the one who hurt Mom?"
Jack trembled and pulled his hands away, turning his gaze towards the fire again. He couldn't let go of the fact he'd been too young and too helpless to protect her. It was by luck alone he was able to get the children away. The years of pain and torment were long behind him... right?
"You don't have to tell me." Jamie squeaked, seeing he'd struck something in his brother.
"Maybe we should both go back to bed." Jack suggested and Jamie nodded. He walked him to his room and tucked him in. "If you need me, I'm right next door."
"I know." He whispered back.
Jack looked over at the sleeping Mary and he gave her head a soft stroke. The kids were being so strong for him—the least he could do was the same for them. How was it they were born on the same day yet they were both so different? Jack could never tell which twin was more like himself.
Jamie was the quiet, introspective one, which seemingly made it obvious that he favored Jack's personality more. But Mary, though she scarcely showed it, was affectionate and protective of the ones she cared about... Jack knew he had those qualities as well, but no one could tell beyond his reserved exterior.
One thing was certain, that they were all like their mother. As Jack lied down in bed, he thought to himself, nearly choking up, that his mother would've loved how they'd turned out. Oh, how he wished she could've gotten to know them.
...
Jack's sleep was restless.
He was gasping, whimpering, moaning, dreaming about one terrible day he'd long repressed. He was but a little boy, at the mercy of his father. He'd tried to go looking for his mother instead of going to school one day. Jack had refused to accept she'd just left and believed she couldn't have gone far, but he was only an eight-year-old who was unfamiliar with just how far the woods went.
Everyone at his school had been worried and gone searching for the boy, including Edvard, who masked his rage with a fake worry for his 'dear son.' Jack had thought he was alone, but it was when his father appeared almost out of nowhere that he realized what a horrible mistake he'd made.
"What the Hell do you think you're doing? Do you know how worked up you've got everybody?" Then the hitting began, first with his hands, then he took a small rock just to make sure Jack never did anything like this again. Jack didn't even remember the rock hitting him, only the horrible sound it made.
CRACK!
Jack recalled his own screams, "Mama! Please! Help me!"
"Your mom's not here," Edvard had grumbled. He sounded more annoyed to be stuck with his bawling child than he did saddened that she was gone.
Jack had successfully blocked all memory of this day... until now.
It was when he rolled into Elsa and awoke her that she noticed him struggling in his sleep. She lit the kerosene lamp and began to shake him. "Darling–"
He woke up screaming, "Mom!" Tears were bucketing down his face, "Mom, help me!" He sobbed, still not quite in reality. Elsa shushed him and tried to soothe him as Jack went on, "Please don't hurt me again! Please, please don't hit me!"
Then the words his father had uttered, "Tell a single soul about this and I'll get kill your brother and sister. Understand me, boy?"
"I won't tell! I promise I won't tell!" He began to cry as Elsa had him in her arms.
"What are you talking about? Jack!"
"I can't let him hurt the kids!"
"Jack, no one's hurting the kids."
Jack shivered, "Oh God, I can still feel his hands around my neck."
"Oh, Jack," Elsa began to tear up.
"I can't go back to sleep, please–"
"Jack–"
"He won't leave me alone–" He went into another anxiety attack.
"No, no, he's gone. He's gone. Just take deep breaths."
"He's going to kill me." Jack sputtered in his panic, though it was admittedly at a softer volume now. "I can't sleep."
The ordeal from the night before had begun all over again, and continued for half an hour until Elsa finally got Jack to calm down and eased him back to sleep.
...
Days later, while Jamie and Mary were outside having a snowball fight, Jack said to Elsa, "I'm sorry."
Elsa looked up from the knitting project she was working on, "What?"
"That I keep waking you up at night. It's not good for you."
Elsa shook her head, "Jack, it's nothing. I barely sleep at night anyway."
Jack was silent for another minute before he added, "I feel like I'm draining the life out of you."
"Don't be so dramatic!" Elsa chided. "I'm just worried about you."
"Don't be." Jack asserted. "If I wake up like that again, just go back to sleep... Okay?"
Elsa put down the needle and came close, "Jack," he wouldn't look her in the eye. He kept on cleaning the countertop like she wasn't there. "I... I know I have no idea what it's like to be in your position right now, but I'm sure this is all part of the healing process."
"I don't feel like I'm healing. Every day I feel like I'm getting worse."
"Well, then talk to me! What's going through your head?"
"You know what's going through my head."
"Apparently I don't." Elsa fought back. "You know, I bet that my father was feeling the same things about his own. Maybe you two should talk." Jack appeared offended by the mere suggestion and he ignored her. Why were men so stubborn? Jack was finished with the kitchen counters and went to go clean the fireplace. She sighed and felt her belly, "I think we should tell the kids soon."
Jack paused. "About the baby?"
"Yeah... I think it's been enough time, and I still won't be showing for at least another month."
"Whatever you think is best." Jack began sweeping out the ashes. "It's your parents I'm worried about."
"They'll be over the moon." Elsa insisted. She felt her flat belly, smirking to herself as she asked, "Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?"
Jack himself hadn't asked himself this. Truly, his mind just hadn't allowed itself to think about it. It didn't matter which it was, for he would love it regardless. "What do you think?"
Elsa smiled, "You know I'd love a little girl. I bet Mary would too, though she wouldn't admit it. A little boy can be fun too."
"Tch, little boys are little headaches," Jack noted, dumping the ash into the bin. "Mary was easy... Of course, so was Jamie. They were both easy babies."
Elsa giggled, "You already have experience raising children."
Jack snorted, "Not like this. This is our child." He commented. "It's not the same as a brother or sister. You help take care of them, you don't do it all yourself... Except I had to, so it was different. I barely remember what it's like to have a baby around." He confessed.
Elsa pondered this, pursing her lips together. "This time you won't be all on your own." She noted, "We're in this together." That made Jack grin; it was the most she'd seen him smile in two days. "Jamie and Mary too, they'll be great help." They both watched out the frost-covered window.
"...I can't believe how independent they're getting. It feels like since we got away, no one ever needs my help anymore."
"Well, hey, that's a good thing, isn't it? They're growing up." She threw in, "And trust me, I'll need your help plenty when I'm big and fat and moping around the house with a baby inside me." Jokingly, she heavily leaned against Jack, who leaned back into her.
"I say you'll still be the most beautiful woman on earth, even with all the whining and crying and all the other things pregnant women do."
"Come on, we don't cry that much." Elsa got an idea. "Hey, since the kids are outside, would you mind helping me with... something?"
Jack raised a brow. "Hormones again?" He wasn't complaining of course. It had been a while, and Jack hoped maybe it would help him sleep better; he'd take any sort of remedy at this point. "I think I can manage a quick check-up down there." He had to admit, it was hard for him to resist those icy-blue eyes.
Whenever he looked into them, Jack would wonder if their child would have blue eyes like her, though it was more likely to have his brown ones. When this question came around, Jack would think more about when they'd be there, how his life would be turned upside down once again... He had fear not just about being a father, but of if he'd be in a stable enough mind to take care of them.
It was thoughts like these that kept him up at night, not just the nightmares.
...
It was the early hours of a December morning when Elsa began to stir. When she opened her eyes, she saw that although it was still dark out, there was a small light coming from down the hall. She could hear the clanking of plates.
As her vision sharpened, Elsa moaned and reached over to wake Jack... and saw he wasn't there. His side of the bed was empty and unmade. How long had he been up?
It was thirteen degrees below freezing, how could anyone want to leave their blankets? Elsa pulled on a shawl over her nightgown and some slippers before going to investigate. In the kitchen, lit only by the candle lamp, Jack was putting away the now-dry dishes. He also had the broom and dustpan out, revealing he was either going to sweep the floor or had just finished doing so. Elsa knew he liked to keep clean, but at three in the morning? Something was off, especially for how vigorously he was moving.
"Jack?"
He turned to her, spooked. "Hey."
"What are you doing up?"
"I had a bad dream. I couldn't fall back asleep." He closed the cabinet door. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll be more quiet."
Elsa grimaced, not again. "Sweeting, come back to bed." Jack stopped, still facing the direction of the sink and counter. "You haven't been sleeping and I'm really worried about you."
"Well, don't worry. I'm fine." He picked up the rag he'd been using to wipe down the table and hung it up to dry. "I like getting things done, it helps me relax. Just... let me finish. I'll be there in a bit."
"No, you won't. You've been waking up like this for over a week." Elsa saw an opportunity; the kids were asleep, which gave them more privacy they'd had in a while. Elsa sat down at the table, "Or don't come to bed. Sit down. Talk to me."
"I don't want to talk,"
"We need to. You've been so... unsteady." Perhaps it was the fact she was still half-asleep, but her choice of words had not been wise ones.
Jack looked at her, completely disgruntled, "Unsteady?"
Elsa realized her error and waved her hand, "You know what I mean."
"No, what do you mean?"
"Your behavior. You're not yourself!"
"Of course I'm not myself!" Jack said, stepping over to the table. His voice was full of disdain. "I'm still looking for a job, I have kids and a wife to feed, the baby's going to be here faster than we know. On top of all this, I need to find a way to pay your family back for all they've done. So yes, I'm a little stressed. Thank you for noticing."
"Okay." Elsa bit back, rising to her feet. "I understand. You're tired. But for some reason, you think you need to do this all on your own. I've told you that my family's going to be there for you. We're all a family now. Why can't you just accept their help without thinking you need to 'repay' them? You're the one who saved us from bankruptcy. Remember?"
"I have to prove that you marrying me wasn't a mistake."
"It'll never be a mistake! Who cares what they think?"
"Me! I care! You think I like not being able to sleep? That I'm always a nervous wreck?" He was feeling himself begin to break into a sob. "I don't know what I was thinking when I thought I could take care of you all on my own. And I keep hearing..." He hesitated. Elsa grew more worried the longer he paused, the more his lip quivered and his eyes began to well up.
"What do you keep hearing?"
"Nothing. I'm gonna go get some air." He started towards the living room to reach the front door, but Elsa hurried behind and grabbed his hand.
"Jack, talk to me!"
He snatched his hand away. "Let me go."
Elsa refused, trying again. For some reason, she felt if she let Jack walk out that door, something awful might happen. "No! I want to know!"
"There's nothing! Let go of me!"
"Jack!" It became a slight tackle, Elsa gripping to Jack's arms and shirt until both were kneeling on the floor, Jack collapsing more and more until he was lying across her lap, a puddle of tears. Elsa regretted being so forceful now, knowing it had to have brought back terrible memories. Heart heavy, she lovingly stroked his hair and face. She whispered, "What do you keep hearing?"
"I can't tell you!"
"Jack, please!" She was so near shouting that her voice was what finally woke up Jamie and Mary in their beds. "I thought you could tell me anything. I love you more than anything, and I hate to see you like this!"
Nothing seemed real anymore, not even Elsa's love. Jack felt like he was being suffocated, so he gripped her dress like it would save him.
"Sweetheart, take deep breaths!"
"I can't!"
"You can!"
"They don't work anymore!"
Elsa bit her lip so she wouldn't cry. She breathed in through her mouth, then out her nose. "Just..." She did so again, urging him to follow her example. Jack's heart was about to slam through his own chest, but he at least managed to steady his breathing, his hand taking Elsa's. Both were unaware that Jamie had cracked his door open and was peering outside along with Mary.
Elsa, teary-eyed, leaned close to Jack's ear. "You have to talk to me."
"I'm just so scared," he choked on his own words, tears shamefully dripping onto the floor, "I can hear his voice."
"Whose voice?"
"My father's. I hear his voice in my head! I can hear him telling me all these horrible things!"
"What horrible things?"
"I don't want to tell you!"
"Okay..." She tried something else. "It's not real! You have to tell yourself it isn't real."
"It's real to me, Elsa! It's real to me!" He squeezed more tears from his eyes. "You don't understand, he's in my head! He won't go away!"
Jamie's heart hurt for his brother, as did Mary's, who wanted to run out and hug Jack. Jamie stopped her from opening the door farther, "Don't."
"Why?"
"You'll make it worse." Jamie hissed, though he understood her sentiment.
Neither had heard what the two had been saying, but what they heard next was Jack mumbling, "I can't do this anymore, Elsa. It hurts too much."
"No," She was still holding onto him with all her might like he might fall into oblivion if she let go.
"It hurts so much to know what I've done. I can't do this to Jamie and Mary,"
"Jack, you've done enough for them, they don't need you anymore..."
Her voice trailed off in Jack's mind. Everything else that came after that statement was a conglomeration of pure noise. All he could hear clearly was, "They don't need you anymore." It rang in Jack's skull like he was in an echo chamber.
"—And now you've got to look after yourself." Elsa finished. "It's okay to worry about yourself." Jack had gone silent. His glassy eyes had gone opaque and blank. He was so tired. "Let's go back to sleep... Please." She insisted.
Jamie felt hopeful now that the crying had stopped. She saw Jack starting to rise to his feet and Mary quickly dragged Jamie back inside so they could rush into their beds. To their surprise, neither adult checked on them and walked directly into their own room. After a few more hushed sounds, all went quiet.
Feeling all was right now, Jamie got comfortable and closed his eyes.
As Elsa was lying her head on Jack's chest, he stroked her blonde hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't you dare." She tried to joke before she leaned up to kiss his lips before resting her forehead to his. "It's going to be okay."
He held her close. He could feel that she was still trembling. "I love you so much."
"I love you too."
Jack kissed her two more times before resting his head on the pillow. Although things had calmed down, Jack still didn't sleep. He closed his eyes and tried, but it never came to him. Only the words, They don't need you anymore.