The truth will set you free.
Jacob Stone was strongly considering getting that tattooed across his arm as a reminder. The years he'd spent lying to everyone around him, including himself, had led to this terrible day. But as awful and horrible as this day was, he had a feeling that on the other side was a whole new life for him. But first he had to get out of this cage.
His truth was in part an apology to Cassandra, Ezekiel's lone truth was eye opening and humorous. Then Cassandra admitted she'd decided on a day when she'd die. Her truth didn't include whether or not she'd actually go through with it, just that she'd once made the decision. His apology seemed inadequate and he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. Mostly for putting her in the position where she had to share that with them.
But her face shone with strength when she said that day was not today. She was all business and they had a job to do. And it was time he did his job too. He was a Librarian not Jake Stone and it was time for him to prove it.
He'd left Cassandra and Ezekiel behind to keep the door open and went in search of the trickster god.
He found his dad's crew setting up to blow up the hole. Cassandra's words echoed in his head: he's gonna want that hole destroyed.
"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked Andy.
"Your dad says we're blasting the hole."
Hoklonote. Pretending to be my father.
At first he wasn't certain. Couldn't be certain. There was no real difference in attitude between his father and the trickster, not like how he could now tell the difference if the thing was impersonating Jones or Cassandra. If you told the truth, Hoklonote was powerless against you.
Either way, it was time. He wasn't Jake any longer. He was Jacob: art historian, Librarian, father. Now he was going to embrace who he really was. So he told the man in front of him, father or trickster, the truth. About how he was a genius, how he spoke nine languages and understood more, about his work in the art world and about how he never wanted the family business.
Then he apologized for never having the guts to tell him.
"You are my son. And I love you." Then Jacob felt himself being pulled into an embrace. For one moment, just one moment, he took the comfort, the words he'd never heard from his father. Shed a tear or two for that scared kid he'd once been and became the Librarian he now was.
"My father would die before he ever told me that." He grabbed Hoklonote and dove into the pit.
Blasted thing morphed right into Cassandra, mocking him for his weakness and hell if he did have a weakness as it's fist connected with his face. But it's arrogance caused it to morph into Ezekiel, whom Jacob had no trouble laying flat.
It was surreal fighting himself. But then again, he reflected as he took another punch and the trickster continued to mock him, he'd been fighting himself since he'd gotten to Oklahoma that day. Tell the truth, he told himself as Hoklonote mentioned all of his lies, all of his aliases. He'd been fighting himself since he was a child. From the day he'd realized who he really was and how it didn't fit into what everyone else had expected out of him. Tell the damn truth. Finish this cursed thing.
"I'm afraid," he yelled. "I'm afraid to use my real name!" Jacob could see the truth weakening his double. "Because then I can't pretend it's my father's fault anymore."
A punch sent the other Stone backwards and Jacob continued. "I could live with being a failure in my old life. But I was too afraid to be a failure in my new one. Afraid of letting my son down. Afraid of letting my girl down like I let down my wife."
Admitting those truths to himself had nearly led him to drink on many an occasion, had put him in limbo with Cassandra. But saying them out loud to this thing had the equivalent power of a hug from Max or one of Cassandra's sunshine smiles. He could take on the world now that he had the power of truth.
"The truth hurts," he muttered as he knocked the trickster out.
"Is it dead?" Cassandra asked as he propped the Hoklonote up in the corner of the cage.
"Nope, but it's gonna wish it was."
"How do we know it's the real you?" Jones asked.
Jacob fought back a surge of anger but Cassandra's concerned face reminded him that it was after all, a fair question.
"I didn't stay with you after Peru . . ." he chose his words carefully, Cassandra knew the truth about the aftermath of the kiss, so it wasn't a truth that needed to be shared. He'd shared that truth with Baird but he wasn't sure what if anything Jones knew. It wasn't the place if Cassandra hadn't told him. So he chose the other truth about why he'd left. It was true in both of their cases. He could have apologized to Jones and tried to get them all to work together. "Because I didn't know if I could get the job done. I was in over my head with Max as it was and then suddenly being promoted to Librarian . . . I didn't want you to see me fail."
Cassandra looked like she wanted to hug him. And Jones looked like he was actually going to say something sincere. But they were interrupted by one of the snake paintings on the wall coming to life and wrapping its around the prone body of the trickster.
"The truth binds it."
Cassandra took a deep breath next to him and blurted out, "I didn't stay with you after Peru because I wanted to prove I could do it alone. I liked having you there. But I knew you thought I was sick."
What? She'd never told him that she felt that way. Was she referring to Jones? No, she was looking right at him. He opened his mouth to protest but the other snake distracted them. He'd talk to her another time when it was more appropriate. He really needed to get the hell out of there. A shower, maybe a couple of pain killers and a really big hug from his son were what he wanted right now.
"Let's go," he growled, looking in distaste at the trickster.
Cassandra expressed concerns that it might escape again but he assured her it would never be free. And in his head, he realized that he was now. When the door slammed shut on Hoklonote, he left Jake the oil rigger in with him to rot in hell.
They emerged from the hole and there was one last person that he needed to leave behind in the dust. It would hurt like hell, but he owed it to himself and to his child to leave him behind.
"What happened to you?" his father asked.
I became who I always was. "The truth."
His father just looked confused.
"The truth is . . . I don't care if you know the truth anymore. I don't need your approval. I am who I am and I'm gonna raise my son to be who he is. Bye, Pop."
Ezekiel had declared there had been one too many things he learned today that he'd liked to get out of his brain, shooting a look at Cassandra and then had called it a night even though it was only early evening. Jacob was a bit curious as to what Cassandra had said that prompted such a reaction but she only shook her head at Ezekiel.
It was something to ask her on another night. He really needed to get cleaned up.
"Cassie?"
"Yeah?" she looked a little apprehensive as if he was going to ask her about one or two of her truths. He would but not tonight.
"Could you do me a favor?" At her nod, he continued. "Sarah's got Max for the day, I really don't wanna have to explain these bruises to her. Could you pick him up for me?"
"Of course," she smiled at him. "I could really use one of his hugs."
"Actually . . . ."it was going to be a long night, he had a feeling. "Could you take him tonight? I need to do some thinkin'. But . . . ."
"Sure, that would be fun. I'll bring him back to your place first. I think you need one of his hugs even more than I do."
"Thank you so much. I'm gonna head home, I wanna take a shower before you get back with him."
He was showered and changed by the time that Cassandra got back with Max. Max had recently gotten a key and he was proudly showing Cassandra that he could open the door.
"Daddy?" Max's face went from excited to concerned when he saw his father.
Jacob didn't answer his unspoken question, just knelt and held his arms open. The boy got the hint and ran into them for a hug.
"Andra said you saved the world," Max's voice was muffled in his shoulder.
"We did," and Jacob pressed a kiss to his son's cheek.
"Do you hurt Daddy?"
"Yep, but you're makin' it loads better," he squeezed the child tighter. "I love you so much." Unlike his father, Jacob had never had difficulty saying those words to his son. He was never going to be his father and Max, Max was never going to be like Jake. Never. He'd made that promise the day his son was born and he intended to keep it.
"Love you too, Daddy. Andra wants me to come stay with her and keep her company, but if you need me too, I can stay here."
He could hear Cassandra sniffle behind them and he knew if he looked she'd have tears in her eyes. "It's okay, cowboy. Daddy ain't feelin' too good and he just needs a little time to heal. Andra needs you tonight though, so you take care of her and in the mornin', you can come take care of me, okay?"
"Okay," the boy nodded against his shoulder and Jacob kissed him one more time before sending him off to his room to pack.
"Don't you forget your toothbrush," Cassandra called after the boy before wiping her eyes.
"He's so sweet," she looked over at him, biting her lip. "Jake . . . ."
"Please darlin', don't call me that. Jake . . . .he's not who I am. I'm Jacob."
She nodded, the tears coming again. "And you always were. Jacob, never let that man ever tell you that you're not. You're a good man, you're a good father and you are not a failure. You . . ."
She stopped and looked at him. He was pretty sure he looked as pathetic as he did before the sun because she threw her arms around him. This time he let himself hold her, burying his face in her shoulder, indulging in the smell of her hair as he tightened his arms around her.
"You . . .are . . .not . . .a . . .failure, Jacob Stone. And I'll tell you that every day until you believe it."
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'm almost there, I really am. But I just need . . . ."
"I know you do."
"I'm so sorry, Cassandra."
"For what?"
"For even a moment believin' that thing was you."
"How could you have known?" She pulled away from him enough so she could see his face. "What did it say to you?"
"Things I should have realized you'd never say. But I was so busy hatin' myself that I believed you could feel that way. We'll talk about it another night. We have a lot to talk about."
She nodded, he could tell she knew he wanted to discuss her own truths. "Jacob . . .are you sure you want us to go? We can stay here. Build a fort out of blankets in the living room."
He smiled, just a little bit. "That sounds fun. We'll do that another night, okay? Tonight I need to think and it'll help me to know the two of you are havin' fun."
She nodded, "alright. Try and get some sleep, okay?" Then she kissed him, not much more than a brushing of lips. They could hear Max coming, so one last squeeze and she stepped away from his arms.
She gave him one last lingering look and then turned her attention to his child. "Alright Max, time for a sleepover. "
Max gave his father one last hug and they were gone.
He found himself back in the Annex. It was late and quiet, he wasn't even sure if Jenkins was around. None of them knew where Jenkins went when they all went back to their various apartments.
It was odd how he was feeling. It felt a lot like mourning. He wasn't sure exactly what or who he was mourning though. Was he mourning the death of what was left of his relationship with his father? He was pretty sure that was the end of that. He'd join his sister in exile, she'd cut ties not long after the old man fell into a bottle and stayed there. He sighed, Jess knew the score, she'd always said that their Momma was the only one who kept him at least half sober and when she died . . . .Well that was the end of that. Jessie was never the most dutiful of daughters to begin with and her gender had made her of not much use to their father as it was. He'd tried so hard to live up what his father had wanted, but he just couldn't. That was not his life, it never was and it never would be.
His life was here. Today he'd done more than walked away from his father. He'd buried who he used to be in some red dirt and returned to Oregon with his head held high.
He was Jacob Stone, Librarian. He didn't hate him. Wasn't completely sure he loved him yet, but he was getting there. Not hating who he was? That was a huge step.
He turned to his laptop. He'd come here to put the last finishing touches on his article, something to keep him focused. That's when Jenkins came in.
"Family ain't easy . . ." what didn't Jenkins hear in this building?
As the old knight walked away, Jacob focused on his last words of wisdom. Nothing was easy. Life sure as hell wasn't easy. Love was hard work. But it was worth it in the end.
He turned to the laptop and changed the name on the paper to Jacob Stone.
Being himself? Maybe that was easier than he thought.
