Still the Same Choice
Archive – Take it; it's yours (just tell me where it will end up).
Category – Angst, Romance
Rating – PG
Warnings – Cliché, Huge angst, Character death (presumably), Pessimism
Summary – The last string of thoughts in Jack's life.
Feedback – Greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer – Any money-wise profitable aspects in regard to this movie certainly are not affiliated with me.
Author's note – I revised the story (slightly), and fixed some grammatical mistakes. So as I've said, this is cliché. The only difference from normal cliché is that it is heart-felt cliché. I didn't know it was cliché until I finished writing the story, read it and went like, "Gosh…" So if there is any similarity, it must be sheer coincidence. And also, many thanks to Hwin for posting my fanfic on my behalf when I am too busy; many thanks to Michael, onefreetoroam and of course, Hwin for being so fabulous! Michael, thanks for the suggestion; I think I will do what you said and keep it like this.
Jack wished he had never yelled at Ennis the last time they met.
He was lying in the grass, covered in blood. So it was true, Jack thought sarcastically: the person who tried to overcome what Ennis feared most became the testimony. How ironic. A bloody demonstration of the strength of justified prejudice.
This was not totally out of his expectation; deep down Jack had known, long ago, that he was going to die such a death, for being so marginal and so inexplicable to his people. That feeling had haunted him, but when it was actualized, Jack was more peaceful to accept it than ever. If only he had said goodbye to Ennis properly.
He would have told Ennis how much he meant to him. He would have told Ennis he was the only person he ever wished to live with. He would have told Ennis no matter what happened, he would always be on Ennis' side and be his strength. He would have told Ennis he loved him.
Jack's heart sank. He loved Ennis. If only he could tell him. If only he had been given the chance. If only Ennis had given him the chance.
There was stinging pain in his chest. Granted, there was pain always, but now its presence was more than prominent. Ennis had never given him the chance. No, he had never given him the chance to admit it in any means. He always acted as if this was all wrong. As if Jack had pulled him down the water and Ennis was the victim. As if what they had was something immoral and reprehensible and doomed to languish. Only it did not, period.
"I hear Mexico has boys like you," he said, eyes with fire.
Boys like me. Jack never quite forgave Ennis for saying that. Boys like me. As if Ennis himself had nothing to do with that. As if being what Jack was would brand him an appalling label. Ennis should be grateful that Jack had suppressed the urge to punch him in the jaw then, like what Ennis had done to him so many years ago. Ennis was the one who pushed him away whenever their intimacy went too deep. Ennis was the one who was always withdrawing. Ennis was the one who so eagerly refused happiness, their happiness, as Ennis' happiness was always Jack's.
Would it, Jack often wondered, be different had they never known each other? Would he still be what Ennis was afraid of being? Would someone else, man or woman, reject Jack like this, so indifferently and fearfully? Would Jack's life be so bereft of color and breaths? Would he die like this?
Jack felt foolish; here he was, deformed and suffocated by his own blood, thinking about the alternative universe while fate hadn't given him much choice or even time. But oddly, now it seemed to be the perfect time to think, as it was the quietest moment in his noisy life. Really, what would life be like had Jack not met Ennis? Would it be something…better?
Despite numerous nerve damages, Jack felt a single tear slide down his face and into his hair with his blood. No, he thought, because Ennis was surely the only person he could ever have loved. Fate had been cruel to Jack, but at least she had given him Ennis, the man Jack was meant to love so deeply and completely.
Jack counted down the "damn few times" they'd been together, the secret bliss they shared, the buried joy of living simply to be in each other's arms. Nothing could take away or depreciate that. They reminded so much of each other that it scared and delighted them both. Of course, there was conflict, there was anger and deprivation, but now these moments seemed, as Jack's life was ending, irrelevant to what having Ennis meant. Without Ennis, Jack would never have known what love was and how deep and strong it could grow; without Ennis, Jack would never have known the purpose of his own existence.
For the first time in his life, Jack Twist felt content and whole. The joyful glimpse they had…short as it seemed…felt like eternity. Worth eternity. The essence of their seemingly miserable and brief lives. It was enough, perhaps, just to have Ennis in his life. Jack remembered that in some far away land, there existed a pair of shirts in his closet, pure and safe from the rest of the world and its brutal intolerance.
Tears on his bashed face, Jack smiled in his blurred consciousness and whispered,
"Ennis, I swear…"
With that, he lost the last of his awareness and fell into an endless sleep.
Author's final note – Was Jack's last line too…cliché? It was originally just "Ennis…", but I figure it should be something more. Please, please tell me what you think, one way or another.
