Disclaimer: If I owned King Kong, Jack would run away and elope in the mountains of Austria with me. WITH ME.
Warnings: Umm...none, really.
Pairings: Mild Jack/Ann
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Jack Driscoll was no hero.
He had wrote heroic plays- God yes, he was a brilliant playwright, anyone could see that. He could capture the handsome, dashing, brave main character who always got the broad to a dot. He could delve into the mind of the perfect, inexistent man with a skill unheard of.
Even so, he wasn't one. No matter how hard he thought about it, he knew it wasn't going to happen. Being that man was obviously something impossible; it was like Carl finally realizing that fame and glory were beyond his reach, it just wasn't in any way feasible.
But as he cautiously moved towards the fantastically huge black arm, shifting slightly in violent dreams of epic battles long forgotten, he thought that for her, he could be.
If only for today, Jack Driscoll could be a hero.