Thanks to: dreamcatcher33 and Valandil Eluch for such speedy reviews!
Title: A Picture
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: See chapters 1, 10, and/or 20
Ennis let Jack get dressed in the bathroom, knew he would crawl back to their bedroom on his own once he was done. He was stripping the sheets off the bed when he noticed two un-ignorable things. First he saw that Jack had been bleeding again. He was sure it was the other night's sex crusade, and for that he felt awful. He wondered if Jack hurt at all.
Second, was a picture of someone. A picture of a man. He wondered if this was Randall. If so, why was it under Jack's pillow? Why was Randall so young? He had long-ish curly hair, it was dark black. His face was quite angular and feminine. He didn't look like Jack's type. He put the picture on the nightstand and threw the soiled sheets into a basket he would take to town. He walked around the room, picking up scattered clothes, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his gut.
But as soon as Jack came back in the room, he couldn't do it anymore. "Jack?" His voice cracked, not an often occurrence, and it unnerved both him and the man on the floor.
"Yeah?"
"Who's that picture of?"
"What? What picture you talking about?"
"Don' you play dumb with me, Jack Twist! Who the hell is that!" He threw the glossy print at Jack, it floated to the ground a few inches away from him, landed face up. He picked it up and ran his fingers over the face. Tracing the eyes, nose, lips.
"Who is it?" Ennis was letting tears fall. How could Jack show such affection for that person? Were they more special than Ennis? Were they better in bed?
"Ennis, it's just Bobby."
"The hell it is! He don' look nothin' like yeh!"
"Yeah, he does. C'm 'ere. C'mon, I'll show yeh."
Ennis walked hesitantly over, and leaned over Jack's slouched shoulders. "See? He's got curly black hair, jus' like me. And yeh can' see 'em, 'cus he won' smile with his mouth open, but he's got buck teeth, too."
"Oh my God, Jack. I'm so sorry." Ennis fell down next to him. Tears trickled down his face, but Ennis had never been much for crying, so he didn't make much sound.
"It's ok," Jack put a hand on his ear, and rubbed it like he did a so many years ago, camping out the freezing cold. But it wasn't, it wasn't ok. Ennis would always be scared, after Randall, that Jack would be cheating on him. Ennis would always suspect, when Jack was five minutes late, that he was out fucking someone else. No longer did the tire iron haunt his dreams. Now, he saw Jack in the throws of passion with another man.
He would wake in the middle of the night, pillow soaked with tears. Jack would rub his back, consoling him, thinking he had dreamt again of teenagers holding Jack and beating him to near death. But he didn't, not anymore. Now, he would see Jack rip off someone's clothes, someone unknown. Jack's clothes, in turn were removed. Jack was on top often, got to be the man Ennis couldn't ever let him be.
Ennis couldn't help but be afraid of it. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jack, he didn't trust himself. He knew he could never be what Jack needed, at least not all the way.
"Ennis? Ennis?" Jack shook his shoulders, waking him from a daydream. "You ok?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He stood, wiped the wet from his face and picked up the laundry basket. "Yeh got anymore laundry?"
"No." Jack stared at little longer at the picture of Bobby.
"Ok, well I'm a go get the girls', 'n' we can get goin'. Take us damn near half hour to get to town."
"Sounds good ta me."