A/N: Finally making some progress on this! I just thought I should tell y'all (especially with the ending of this chapter) that there is ONE more chapter after this!

-o-o-o-

It wasn't until his train stopped at Montgomery that Jack realized he hadn't a clue what exactly he was going to do once he got there. While he had visited the city many times in the past and knew a handful of people there, he was unsure of whether any of his old friends knew where Jean lived. He certainly didn't know where she lived. Christmas was only days away—what if she wasn't even in Montgomery? Quickly, Jack began to regret his decision to find her.

What would he even say to her when he found her? Would she even let him talk to her? What was he thinking coming here after all that he did?

Atticus. He was thinking about Atticus.

Despite the fact that his brother had been so calm the entire time Jack had spoken to him, Jack knew otherwise. Beneath his calm and composed exterior, Jack knew that on the inside Atticus was upset. He knew that he had to fix this for his brother. This entire time he had failed to think about Atticus' happiness and he needed to prove to his brother that he could fix this terrible mess that he had gotten everybody in.

If only he could find Jean first.

Awkwardly, he stood in the middle of the sidewalk for a few moments and felt like a complete fool. He had no clue where he was supposed to go or even who he was supposed to approach and was therefore left standing like an idiot in a city he was not entirely familiar with. He sighed, running his hand through his hair as he attempted to figure out what he was supposed to do.

"You lost, son?" A man asked. Jack had to stop himself from laughing, the man looked not much older than Atticus yet he was calling him son.

"Actually, yes." Jack responded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm not sure if you know her, but I'm looking for a Miss Jean Graham."

"I don't know her personally, but I sure do know her daddy!" The man exclaimed. "He just became judge not too long ago. I can bring you 'round his office if you'd like."

Just great. Jack thought to himself. Seeing Jean was going to be tough enough—but seeing her father? Lord only knows what Jean had said about him to her father, but he was quite sure that Mr. Graham was not going to like him. However, he was the only means of getting to Jean. Jack cleared his throat. "Um, yes, yes please." Jack responded inelegantly, stumbling over his words. "That'd be great."

"Are you an old friend of Miss Graham's?" The man asked after a few moments of silence as the two men walked down the sidewalk. Once again, Jack wanted to laugh.

"You could say so," he responded slowly. "I've done something…stupid, and I need to talk to her about it." He wasn't sure why he was alluding to what happened to some complete stranger who probably did not even care about what Jack was saying at all. "I just want…to make things right, I guess."

The man smiled at Jack. "Well, you look like a sincere man so I'm sure you'd be fine." He said (making Jack want to cringe) as the two of them stopped in front of an old brick building. "Judge Graham is on the second floor. I'm sure you'll be alright finding your way there."

"Thank you kindly," Jack responded, smiling at the man as he braced himself for what was to come. The man tipped his hat and smiled before walking away.

It wasn't until Jack was climbing the stairs that his heart began to pound with anticipation for what was to come. What if Jean had told her father everything that had happened and the man hated Jack and refused to let him talk to his daughter? Would he be able to convince this man to look past everything that had happened in order to fix things for his brother? What if this man harbored ill will towards Atticus for whatever dumb reason? Suddenly, Jack was beginning to think that this was all a huge mistake.

But it was too late now. He was standing outside of Ambrose Graham's office.

Reluctantly, he knocked.

-o-o-o-

Evidently, Jean had failed to inform her father of anything that had happened and had simply told him that she had ended her engagement with Atticus. The man was quite surprised to find Jack, who became clumsy and awkward with anxiety as he explained that he was very sorry for insulting Jean and desperately needed to talk with her in order to make things right. Mr. Graham did not request any further information from this stranger and instead claimed that Jack's nervous state granted him the rite of passage into the Graham household to speak to Jean.

If she let him, of course.

As the two men walked to Ambrose's home, Jack couldn't help but to wonder if Atticus had met this man, because was someone that Jack thought Atticus would like. He was a funny man, making quick remarks about different people that the two men came across on their walk home, but at the same time he had a sense of calmness around him that Jack knew Atticus would appreciate. As they approached Ambrose's home the older man looked at Jack and smiled. "I'm quite certain Jean is home," he said. "You can wait in the parlor while I retrieve her."

"Thank you, sir." Jack responded, trying to hide his nervousness as the two of them entered the house where Jack would learn that he did not need to wait long for Jean.

"How was work, daddy?" Jean's voice rang through the living room, though at first she was nowhere to be seen. Anxiously, Jack looked around the parlor, looking for something to focus on that would calm his nerves.

"You know how it goes," Ambrose responded. "Each day is the same. Jean—you have a guest."

"A guest?" She called back and Jack could hear her footsteps approaching. "Who—"

It was almost as though her words got caught in her throat when her eyes landed on Jack. She stopped in her tracks, holding her breath as she simply stared at him. "Um," she mumbled, one of her hands flying to fix a piece of hair that had fallen astray.

"I understand this is Atticus' brother," her father said slowly, his eyes moving from Jean to Jack. "I'm not sure what's going on, Jean, but—"

"I don't have anything to say," she responded, folding her arms at her chest. Jack had expected her to sound angry, but instead there was a hit of sadness in her voice.

Jack remained silent. "You and I both know that isn't true," Ambrose responded with a chuckle. "The day you run out of things to say is the day I fall over dead."

Jean visibly cringed. "I don't have anything to say to him." She corrected, her eyes unable to meet Jack's. "Everything is over with."

"Jean Catherine Graham," Ambrose said sternly as Jean's cheeks flushed, making Jack feel even worse for her. "I've raised you better than to give up. Now I have things to attend to upstairs, but you must at least let this boy say what he needs to. I don't care if you're silent the entire time, he's traveled too far for this."

Her face grew redder. "Yes, daddy." She mumbled as Ambrose smiled at the two of them.

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Finch." Ambrose said as he went up the stairs.

"Likewise." Jack murmured.

For a few moments, the two of them just stood there as the silence in the room made the air thicker and thicker. Jack almost felt as though he couldn't breathe, especially as he observed Jean. The girl who had been so intense and outspoken was now reduced to a red-faced and embarrassed girl standing in the corner of her father's living room. "Sorry." Jack mumbled, looking down at his feet.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she was examining something that was on her fingernail.

"Um," he cleared his throat, running his hand through his hair. "Listen, Jean, I-I… I really don't know what I was thinking," he began, but stopped. "Actually, I do know what I was thinking."

Jean suddenly looked up. "I was thinking about myself and what I wanted and I ended up making you feeling uncomfortable and actually hurting you and I can't even explain how sorry I am." He said, the words erupting out of him like a flood. "I was selfish and I understand you may hate me – you should hate me, but you shouldn't take it out on Atticus. Jean, he loves you so much and I saw him earlier and I could tell he was dying on the inside and I couldn't even imagine how you were feeling and I needed to tell you that the engagement doesn't need to be called off just because of me."

She remained silent, and despite the fact that she was now vigorously picking at the skin around her fingernails, her eyes were set upon him. "I was selfish," he said again. "I had some idea in my mind and acted impulsively but I promise I'll leave you alone. Even if you marry Atticus you'll never need to see me and it'll be like I don't exist, I promise—I'll do anything, I just want my brother to be happy… I want you and my brother to be happy."

Her finger was bleeding now, but she didn't notice. It wasn't until she caught him staring at the blood running down her hand that she thoughtlessly wiped it on the front of her white blouse. Sighing in exasperation, she had no choice but to shrug it off. "This doesn't fix anything," she said, trying to wipe the excess blood off of her finger with her other hand. Jack's heart dropped. She sighed again and looked at him with a blank expression. It wasn't until then that he realized that tears had been pooling around her eyes. "Trust me," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I've made my fair share of mistakes, I've done stupid things like you did."

"Then why—"

"I don't belong," she sighed, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "You hate me, your sister hated me with everything she had in her, and everyone else was just so polite and fit into this label of what a perfect family is and I don't fit into that. I've tried to be everything your family wanted but it just didn't work." Suddenly, she looked exhausted, as though she had been fighting some sort of battle. Jack felt guilty—he could have made this easier for her, but naturally he made her feel even worse.

"I don't hate you," he whispered, looking down at his feet. "I was just bein' spiteful but I really don't hate you, and Alexandra can be difficult but if she sees how happy you make Atticus I swear she'll lighten up on you. What matters is that Atticus loves you."

"That's what I told myself at first," she admitted, wringing her hands. "But I'm not sure if that's enough anymore. I think what happened with…with us just proved that this wasn't supposed to happen."

Jack's heart sank even further and instead of being filled with his usual feelings of anger towards Jean, he couldn't help but to feel bad for her. He never imagined this happening—him standing in front of her as she looked so anxious and cried about how things had transpired. He desperately wished for the ability to just turn back time, to make her feel more welcomed, to prevent this entire thing from happening.

"But," he said. "But, Jean—"

Tears welled in her eyes again, joining the ones she hadn't bothered to wipe from her face. "Jack," she said, her voice nearly at a whisper. "I just don't think it can work."

Again, he found himself wanting to shake her. He wasn't necessarily full of anger or rage, but he just wanted her to know that it could work, that the only person who mattered was Atticus; not Jack, not Alexandra, not any other member of the family—just the two of them mattered. But looking at her, Jack knew that her mind was already made, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

"Jean," he said again, trying to fight a sudden urge to hug her (the sight of a crying woman always made him feel slightly weak). "I'm sorry."

She sniffed and forced a smile. "Everything's behind us." She told him, and he found himself feeling sad. He was sad for her, but he was especially sad for Atticus.

"I'm glad," he lied. He sighed, looking around the room (he was trying to look at anything but her—despite their resolution, her tears had not sopped). "I ought to go." He said, trying not to sound as grim as he felt.

"Would you like a drink before you go?" She sniffed. "I would offer you scotch, but we don't have any. Even if we did, I'm not sure if I'd trust you with it." It was a joke and they both knew it, but neither of them could bring themselves to smile.