- Deeper Than Skin IV -

Jack's brain kicked into gear, and he grabbed Ennis's arm, practically dragging the man inside and slamming the door after him. Ennis was soaked to the bone, and a pool of water was quickly gathering around his feet; but in that instant, Ennis didn't mind—didn't mind the wet, didn't mind the cold; all he cared about, all that filled his mind, was Jack.

Neither heard Mrs. Twist's call of, "Jack, who is it?" But both were startled into movement by the much nearer exclamation of, "Oh, Ennis—Lord, you're soaking wet! Jack, don't just stand there, get him some dry clothes!"

Jack pulled his eyes away from Ennis and started to lead the man upstairs, but it soon became apparent that Ennis was in sorry shape. Jack looped his arm around Ennis's waist, pushing away slight panic when he noticed how thin Ennis had gotten, and practically carried him upstairs. Though the guest bedroom was nearest, Jack carried Ennis into his own room and propped Ennis up in his bed before rummaging around in the closet for clothes. Ennis was exhausted, sick, drunk, or a combination of the three, and was no help at all in getting his clothes off, leaving Jack to struggle with keeping him upright and pull the fresh clothes on. That done, Jack sat down in a chair to quietly panic over his friend's condition.

Mrs. Twist entered the room and quickly took stock of the situation. She briskly ordered Jack to put Ennis properly in bed instead of leaving him sprawled atop the blankets as he was, and told her son to come get her if Ennis's present condition should change. As Jack rose to do her bidding, she left him to it.

Jack's hands were shaking as he carefully maneuvered Ennis underneath the covers of the bed, and it took him a few moments to sort out his emotions: fear for Ennis's health, joy at seeing him again; but there were stronger emotions, too: anger, fury almost, that Ennis had left in the first place and had come back to him now in this condition, making it impossible for Jack to vent his fury, forcing Jack to care for him… Hands clenched tightly into fists, Jack quickly stepped away from the bed before the desire to hit Ennis overwhelmed him.

But his anger couldn't last forever—it hardly lasted a minute. Jack found himself weaseling in under the covers, curling up against Ennis's side and breathing in the much-missed scent of the man. Before long, he was as soundly asleep as Ennis.


Jack awoke as early as usual, but remained in his bed for a while longer, finding next to Ennis a simple but precious peace that he hadn't known in so long. Reluctant as he was to get up, a little voice at the back of Jack's mind—his mother's voice, most likely, with a little of his father's layered thickly beneath—nagged that he couldn't lay about in bed all day, no matter how warm it was, or how pleasant the company. Careful not to disturb said company, he rolled out of bed and went about his morning routine, allowing himself time to think about what the hell he was going to do now.

Ennis is here. He's back. He came back to find me, and here he is. Jack couldn't seem to get much farther than that. He was still having trouble deciding whether to hate Ennis or grab him and kiss him as hard as he could. The latter was far more appealing, of course, but the former seemed only natural. Ennis had, after all, abandoned Jack after Jack had opened his heart completely—opened it right up for heartbreak. Ennis deserved to be hated, to be thrown out of the house as soon as he woke up—no, before he even woke up… But Jack just couldn't summon up the anger necessary for such a task, and he returned to his room wanting nothing more than to cuddle up next to Ennis again, but resolving firmly not to do so. Not until he'd had a few things explained, at least. After he knew what the hell was going on…well, then anything could happen. Thoughts of what "anything" could be made Jack a little dizzy, and he pushed them away before Jack Jr. could finish pitching his denim tent.

Ennis was still asleep, so Jack dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat there, waiting. He had no idea how long he waited—not that it mattered, since he would have waited days if it had come to that—but Ennis finally began to show the signs of waking. His eyes opened and, after a moment of obvious disorientation, fixed on Jack—and, amazingly, filled with tears. "Christ," Ennis muttered, tears drawing slow lines down his cheeks, "…thought it was all just a dream…"

This wasn't what Jack had expected. In all truth, he hadn't really been expecting anything, but this…Ennis didn't cry. Ennis never cried. He hardly ever showed even mild emotions, much less this…and so Jack sat there helplessly, unsure what to do as Ennis turned his head and cried quietly into the pillow.

He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but Jack found himself crawling into the bed and holding Ennis tightly against his chest; it was a pleasant surprise when Ennis allowed this and, further, turned his head against Jack's shoulder and cried there, hands clutching weakly at the front of Jack's shirt. "I'm sorry," Ennis whispered, so softly Jack almost couldn't hear it. Tears of his own threatening to spill over, Jack squeezed his eyes tightly shut and simply held Ennis, every so often murmuring something he hoped sounded comforting. Ennis's moment of weakness didn't last long, though, and he pulled away a little; Jack let him go, knowing it would do no good to try to hold on any longer. Ennis wiped at his eyes with his hands, cleared his throat a few times, finally said, "Thanks…for takin' me in an' all…didn't mean to show up like that, but my truck broke down an' I had to walk…"

"Ain't no problem," Jack answered, wondering whether he should get up—torn between the need to stay near Ennis, and the equally strong desire to make the other man less uncomfortable. He finally settled on swinging his legs over the side of the bed and sitting with his back to Ennis. There, finally, unable to see Ennis's face, some of Jack's earlier anger finally began to seep out. "Why're you here, Ennis?" he asked, his voice flat and emotionless.

"I—I came to find you."

"And now you have. What do you want?"

Ennis was silent for a very long time. Finally, he said, "I know I done you wrong, Jack. I shouldn'ta left you like I did, but…I couldn't think a what else to do. Ya have to understand, Jack—"

"Understand?" Jack repeated. Then louder, "Understand! You gotta be fucking joking, Ennis! I ain't never understood a single fuckin' thing you done, an' I sure as hell don' understand why you done this to me—!"

"Come on now, Jack, you're yellin'—"

"Damn right I'm yellin', an' I'll yell at you long as I want to! I'm gonna yell at you till my voice goes hoarse, boy, 'til I can't yell at you no more! You hear me, Ennis Del Mar? All I fucking ever did was love you, and you throw me out on my ass. What'm I s'posed to think, huh?" Jack was on his feet by now, waving his arms wildly around and not caring that the horses—and certainly his parents—could hear him. But even as he went on, his voice dropped gradually lower: "I hated you, Ennis. I didn't wanna go on livin' no more; I already felt dead anyway. Thought more'n once 'bout drivin' my truck in front of a semi or somethin'…almost did, once…but I couldn't. You wanna know why?" His voice rose again. "'Cause a you! I kept thinkin' 'bout you—! Started wonderin' if you'd be sad if I died, or if you'd be happy. I didn't wanna make you sad, an' I didn't wanna make you happy, neither. Fucking only reason I'm here right now is 'cause I couldn't figger out if I hated you more'n I loved you…" His voice trailed off, and he dropped down into his chair, burying his head in his hands. "I still don't know," he whispered.

Though Jack couldn't see it, fresh tears were slipping down Ennis's face, and the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. But his throat had closed, and he couldn't seem to find the right words anyway…didn't know if there were any words that could make this alright…

And so they both sat there, both crying, Jack's heart laid bare and stomped on once again, Ennis watching helplessly with the knowledge that he had done this, and that there was nothing he could do to fix it.


Jack finally lifted his head, rubbing fiercely at his eyes and still sniffling a little. He avoided looking at Ennis, got up and went to the window and stood staring out over the yard, white-knuckled hands holding onto the sill. Softly, he said, "You should go." Nothing more—just that one simple declaration that said as clearly as writing that he wanted nothing more to do with Ennis. Ennis had had his chance, and wasted it; Jack wasn't going to give him another.

Slowly, Ennis got up, went to stand behind Jack, reached out to gently touch Jack's shoulder; Jack jerked away from the touch like he'd been burned. Ennis squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip, and turned away, quietly stumbling from the room. Tears blurred Jack's vision as, a few moments later, he watched through the window as the only person he'd ever love walked slowly away.