FicWad

Jack awakens and realizes that, finally, he has no plans. The Senate is not meeting. He is not being called to court to fight his ex-wife. He throws open the curtain to his four-poster bed. His house is cold. He must not have lit a fire the night before. He shakes it off and lights a candle on his nightstand. He takes a small bottle of whiskey out of the drawer and drinks it all in bed. Whiskey before breakfast, no, whiskey for breakfast. Jack stretches and gets out of bed. He walks across the room and finds a note on his door telling him that he need not bother with his chores. It bothers him that someone was able to leave a note inside his bedroom door without him noticing. He stumbles downstairs still unclothed. He finds breakfast made for him. Sausage and potatoes are steaming together on a plate, and there is coffee in the pot. There is a note on his liquor cabinet forbidding him from drinking any more.

After breakfast he walks outside into snow that is a yard deep at least. He grabs an old axe from the kitchen, splits a couple of logs, and carries them into the living room. He takes a few unneeded papers and rolls them up into balls to start a fire. Soon he has a roaring fire in the fireplace. He happens to gaze up and sees a note telling him to turn around. It is then that he becomes painfully aware that he is unarmed and vulnerable. He stands slowly and turns more slowly still, all the while reassuring himself that, even completely vulnerable, he is more than a match for any man in Hell in a fistfight. He sees who is on the couch and tries to cover himself quickly.

"Come now, Jack, it is not as if I have not seen you naked before. I drink with you, and you bet when drunk. Half of the time you bet away your clothing," says Kerrigan.

"That's where half o' me clothin' went?"

"You usually win them back eventually. You are a lucky man, after all."

"If I were lucky..."

"Do not start with that. Go shower and get dressed. Your good suit, please. We do have business."

Jack starts upstairs. He continues talking, so Kerrigan follows.

"So they've attacked?"

"Not yet. Intelligence tells me that the mother of their leaders is ill. They wanted to storm us and win over the territory that encompasses your little fort in a surprise attack, but her condition means that they all wish to remain by her side."

"It could be a trick."

"It is not. She will die within the month."

"Ye can't be too trustin’, Kerrigan." Jack steps into a painfully warm shower, however, the conversation continues.

"I know that better than you do. I have sent notifications all down the lines. Our men have been preparing for war for weeks."

“If 'tisn't an attack, what business is so pressin’ it can't wait ‘til tomorrow?"

"You need a new suit before they attack. Also, you need to pull out your old uniform. It needs to be tailored, if not scrapped for a new uniform completely."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It does not fit you."

"Sure it does."

"What size were you when you got it and what size are you now?"

"Half the size I was then…I see what you mean." Jack steps out of the shower and begins to shave for the first time since he lost custody of Jason. Since then he had not bothered or cared. It had been over a month, but Jack is not sure how long it really had been. "After we're done there, can I return home? I need a good rest."

"Yes, you may."

"Will ye return with me?"

"Jack, you know quite well that I-"

"I didn't mean it like that. I just need some company. Someone who cares."

"Alright, provided you do not try any of your tricks with me."

"I promise I won't."

"I do not think you have heard this, Jack, but your son was born last night."

"'Twas a son?"

"Yes, Jack."

"Wait, a son? That means John Murphy owes me! I won the bet! But Maire wasn't due for another six weeks."

"He is smaller than Jason was, but he is doing fine, and so is Maire. That is the other business you have today. You have to visit your sons, both the one who misses you and the one who has never seen you."

"Will ye go wi’ me?"

"Of course I shall. I have something to give to Maire."

"What?"

"It is a present from Lynn, Katy, Kitty, and myself."

"Some Banshee thing, no doubt."

"No, it is simply a good-luck charm. By the way, Jack, you are quite attractive without your beard."

"Thanks. I thought ye were married," Jack says pulling on his boxers.

"I am, but if I were not, you would be courting me, would you not?"

"Aye, ye've a point." Jack pauses in pulling his wife beater on. "Kerrigan, I spent the night worryin’ ‘bout ye." He pulls up his pants.

"You need not have done that."

"Just tell me, are ye wearin' makeup?" Jack asks as he begins to button his shirt.

"My lips are not naturally this color. I always wear makeup."

"I mean... not lipstick... not eye stuff... the other thing, the powdery one."

"I always do."

"Then tell me, did I hear what I think I heard or not?"

"What is it that you believe you heard?"

"Did I not hear Morietur hit you four times, once with a closed fist?" Jack asks tying his shoes.

"Jack, please do not inquire about my-"

"Just tell me if I heard right."

"You did, but he is not like that. It is only when he drinks, and he is not that bad unless he drinks a lot of liquor."

"An' how often is that?"

"It is at least once a week, but it is mostly if I am not home, he becomes angry, and—"

"Kerrigan, he abuses ye. Ye need to get out o' there 'afore ye really get hurt." Jack pulls on his suit coat.

"Jack, you are the last person whom I would ask for marital advice."

"I just can't believe that ye let him do that to ye. Ye seem perfectly capable of nearly killin' me, so why don't ye say anythin' to your husband?"

"I say nothing because he only hits me when I have done something wrong. He is only trying to better me."

"Kerrigan, listen to yourself. Ye've known me for years. Ye know that even when I'm drunk, which I'm not, for I only had a couple o' shots nearly an hour ago, I don' have much o' a temper, but when I do lose it, 'tis very serious. Kerrigan, I know 'tisn't for me to decide, but ye need to get your arse out o' there. I don't like swearin' in front o' ladies, an' I consider ye a lady o' the highest regard, however I can’t tolerate ye lettin' yourself get beat."

"Jack, it is not that bad."

"Then why won't ye let me see it?"

"I will not because it would bother you."

"I've seen everything. I saw Mick McMahon die, for feck's sake. Ye won't let me see a little injury?"

"I did not bleed or anything like that, but..."

"He hit ye harder than you want to admit."

"Jack, please stop." Kerrigan seems on the verge of tears.

Jack sits down beside her on the bed. He is afraid to hold and comfort his dear friend because her husband is a truly fearsome man; however, he holds her tightly and whispers, "I'm sorry."

"It is alright. I just cannot believe what you said. I know most people would not even be able to say it."

"Kerrigan, after last night...I cried last night. I'm not a man."

"Yes, you are. That only makes you more of a man than most."

"I'm weak."

"Most men would rather pursue a path of self-destruction than allow themselves to cry. Personally, I would rather visit you in your house than in prison."

"I'd rather not be in an prison, though I probably belong there."

"Do not even say that."

"Shh, Kerrigan... Shh. 'Twill be alright." Kerrigan begins to sob, and Jack holds her tighter. She has always been there for him. Now it is his turn. "'M sorry, Kerrigan. I never meant to bother ye." Kerrigan begins to cry. Jack holds her tightly as if she were his own wife. He strokes her black-and-white hair gently, painfully aware that the one woman he can never have is sitting on his bed in his arms. He has no thought of taking advantage of her. He has too much respect for Kerrigan. Kerrigan pulls away from Jack. She slips her hand into a hidden pocket of her wide-skirted black gown. She pulls out a small bottle of brandy and drinks it in one sip. Kerrigan collects herself and turns toward Jack. "Kerrigan, I-I-I don' know what to..."

"I know. I did not want you to see it. I did not want you to worry. He does not even remember what happened last night."

Her left eye is surrounded by a black bruise on her paper white skin. There is another on her forehead from where she hit the stone step. She covers everything expertly with powders and appears as if she had never shed a tear in all of her life.

"Ye do amaze me, Kerrigan. Ye can cover anythin'. If I could do that I wouldn't have a prison record."

"Come, Jack, let us finish what we must."

"Sorry. I know that was inappropriate."

“It is alright. We need to leave shortly. Do not forget to bring your uniform."

The two leave in Jack's carriage. Kerrigan's horse, Pyro, is resting comfortably in a stall with Jack's mare, Missa. Jack has four horses: Missa, his riding stallion Spectre, and two carriage horses that Kerrigan gave him as colts, named Blaze and Inferno. Jack has no servants, therefore, he drives himself. They arrive at the tailor's on time, but Jack is stiff and freezing. He warms himself by the fire while the tailor, a wiry, bespectacled little man with a red button nose and an oddly feline appearance, scratches his graying black hair looking from Jack to his uniform. The tailor's apprentice whisks by his master to help Kerrigan to a chair. The chair is deep mahogany with a plush velvet cushion. The apprentice makes tea for Kerrigan and gives her the best mug the tailor owns. Kerrigan is draped with diamonds, but never so many that her graceful neck would seem burdened. Her perfect, long, red nails rest together, her hands gently, carefully laid on her lap.

Jack stands in his boxers on a stool in the center of the room while the tailor measures his hips, waist, and long legs. He steps down so that the tailor can measure his chest, neck, arms, and wrists. All the while, he is trying not to squirm or seem uncomfortable. He had only been to a tailor once before for his uniform. The tailor sends his apprentice to fetch pre-made clothing, and alters it all carefully while Jack waits. Jack's uniform, however, must be made from cloth, as there are no pre-made garments to match. The tailor removes all of Jack's insignia and medals and puts them in a bag. The tailor also sets aside the proper belt. He flies expertly through the making and cutting of a pattern. Within an hour, the pants, shirt, and jacket are finished, and Jack’s insignia have been returned to their proper places. Kerrigan pays for it as a present to Jack.

After the tailor's, they make three short stops, one at a liquor store where Kerrigan picks out brandy for the celebration of Jack's newborn son, one at a tobacconist's where Jack buys cigars to celebrate, and one at a florist's where Jack buys a dozen blood-red and white roses for Maire. Jack is wearing his full new uniform and insignia, so nobody questions him, regardless of where he goes. He arrives at the hospital late in the afternoon. The hospital is in the Banshee Quarter, so Jack feels quite disoriented. He is a Vampire, and the only Banshees that he knows are the twins, Kerrigan, Maire, and the bartender Dermott McFinn and his family. Jack does not speak Banshee. He speaks Irish, English, and Vampire. He only knows how to order drinks and get into fights in Banshee. Kerrigan explains who he is and why they are at the hospital, and a porter shows them the way upstairs, apologizing that a doctor is not available to show the two dignitaries to Maire’s room. It does not bother Jack. At least the porter speaks English.

Jack knocks on the door of Maire's room, and, hearing no complaints from within, opens it. Maire refuses to make eye contact with him, but his young son Jason, who is entirely exhausted from leaving his house at night and from sitting around a hospital all day, runs straight over to his father and hugs his father's knees, as that is all he can reach. He looks up into his father's eyes, and Jack lays Maire's roses down on the table so that he can pick up his son. Jack smiles genuinely, and Kerrigan stands in the shadows watching contently as if she were a cat.

Maire is a Banshee and Vampire, as is Kerrigan. They both teach other Banshees; however, unlike Maire, Kerrigan has a separate name as a Banshee because she became a Vampire several lives later than she became a Banshee, while Maire was turned into a Vampire after death. Maire teaches human languages to Banshee students, and Kerrigan teaches them the history of Hell.

Maire, still ignoring Jack's presence, asks Kerrigan, "Are the students doing well?"

"Well enough. The twins, Sean and Seamus, will probably proctor your exams come Yule."

"Must they? Can you not find someone more reliable?"

"There are far worse candidates. It is their slow season between Yule and the new year, and they can switch off. Besides, they tied for second in their class. They are not stupid. If you wish that they do not proctor them, then they will find someone suitable, in your opinion."

"I suppose they’re alright. It's been so long not teaching; you must tell me, how are Katy and Kitty?"

"They are doing well enough. We all miss you, and have brought you this," says Kerrigan, handing a silver medallion with something written in Banshee on it. "How are you, Maire?"

"Better than last time. John was a lot easier than Jason was. Everything was according to plan except the day. Came out headfirst, cried as he should. He just wanted his chance sooner."

"Did I not tell you that the second would be far easier?"

"You did. How is Lynn? Is she coping alright?"

"She is doing fine. She has healed well enough, but some scars take far longer to heal than others."

"That has to be expected, poor woman. And yourself, how are you? Has Jack been giving you trouble?"

"He has given me none trouble at all. He can be stubborn, but you know how I am."

"Far more stubborn than he, or anyone else, could imagine."

Jack interrupts, "Maire, I brought ye something."

"What is it, whiskey?" asks Maire icily.

"Roses," Jack says as he hands the bouquet to Maire.

"Jack, they're beautiful! Stunning! You really can be a gentleman. I'm not taking you back, but I am impressed. You clean up nicely."

"Thankee."

"Please tell me… you're wearing your uniform, and it actually fits, so has to be new. Is there a war on? Will it be safe for our sons, or should they stay in the Banshee Quarter?"

"As of now, there have been no attacks; however, I would rather have them protected by our army than in a supposedly neutral area where both sides have friends. The enemy will eventually wax bold, at which point, the sons of a Senatorial General become prime targets."

"You are the military man, Jack. I'll take your word on it, but, Kerrigan, what's your opinion?"

"Jack is correct. There have been no attacks thus far, and he is also correct about the fact that our army has been preparing for an attack for weeks; however, to assume anywhere is completely safe is the prerogative of fools, for neither neutral territory, where, as Jack pointed out and as history teaches us, the enemy will eventually wax bold, nor our own territory, which the enemy may eventually penetrate, can ever be completely safe; however, I believe that our own territory is probably more secure for the children even this early on; therefore, based on what intelligence I have received and my own analysis, I am forced to agree with Jack."

Jack and Jason both have their heads tipped to the side and identical expressions of confusion at Kerrigan's lengthy statement. Maire merely nods and says, "Very well. We shall move back as soon as I am strong enough to sustain it."

"I promise ye, Maire, ye've nothin’ to fear from me," says Jack.

"I never feared you. I only divorced you because you were out so much and drunk so much that I hardly saw you sober after Jason was born."

"If ye ever need anythin', I'm there. I won't let harm come by ye at the hands o' anyone, an' I know ye don' love me. I know 'tis me own fault for messing up a perfect family, but ye are a Senator, as am I, an' we do have two sons."

"I'll be civil if you will, Jack."

"Agreed. Sure, a hospital, 'tis no place for a young lad, especially one who ain’t ill. Can I take Jason to me place for a little while? Take him off your hands while ye need bed rest? I'll take both the boys when ye need to move."

"Sounds splendid. Kerrigan, do you still have a key to my place?" Kerrigan nods. "Let Jack in, then, to fetch Jason's things. Jack, our son is only four, so please, don't go too heavy on the alcohol, either you, or him?"

"I’ll be sober as I can manage. I promise."

"I mean it, Jack. Jason has been through enough. He doesn't need to see how you deal with everything, good or bad."

"I understand, Maire. Kerrigan can give me a grade an' if 'tis what ye want. Can I see John?"

"Soon as you sign the papers."

"Papers?"

"The ones that say you're his father, the same ones you signed for Jason when he was born."

"Ah, those papers. I suppose he's an O'Connor, then."

"No. He's a Shepherd just like his brother."

"Since I can't read Banshee... what do I—"

"I asked for the papers in Vampiric. You'll recognize him in the room with the other babies, as he looks just like yourself and Jason: red hair, blue eyes, cute little nose, strong chin for a baby, long fingers, long and thinner than he ought to be."

"D'ye mind I go an' find him?"

"Not at all. I was sleeping until you arrived."

Jack leaves the room with Jason hanging around his neck. Kerrigan follows and silently closes Maire's door. An orderly pushes a cart past them and Jack asks, "Could you tell me where they put the newborns?"

"Come to steal one, have you, Vampire?" asks the man.

"I'm lookin’ for me son."

"Redhead kid? Blue eyes? Named John?"

"Aye, aye, an’ aye."

"He's in Intensive. Doctor said he might not make it. Don't tell the poor mother."

"Can the father see the papers and the baby?"

"This way, sir." Jack signs the papers and walks into the intensive-care unit. He spots his son immediately.

"That's him. That's me son. Can I hold him?"

"I suppose. Just be sure not to disrupt the tubes." The orderly leaves.

"Me own son. Poor thing. He's so small, isn't he, Jason?"

"Aye, da'."

"Jason?"

"Aye?"

"D’ye promise ye'll help take care of John if I have to go away?"

"Aye, da'."

"There's a good lad. Kerrigan, take Jason to the coach. I'll be along in a minute."

Kerrigan and Jason leave, and Jack pulls out a hip flask. He takes the smallest drop of whiskey and puts it in the baby's mouth. He once did the same to Jason. His father had done the same to him before his father's wife had cast Jack out. There's no changing an old family tradition, at least, not yet. Jack gingerly places John back into the bassinet that the hospital provided. To think, even if they did not have money the child would have been placed in the very same bassinet. That would not have been the case were the child born in the Vampire District. At least in birth and death things could be fair. It is what happens in between that makes Jack uneasy. Jack never dreamed that he would have money. He had known that it was inevitable that a man had responsibilities. He had never dreamed that he would try to settle down. He was a rake and a rover by nature. He looks at his second son. Poor baby. Jack cannot believe that the child will live. He has so many tubes and needles in him. Jack kisses his son's forehead and struggles to keep his composure. The baby does not wake. Jack leaves the hospital after taking a drink from his hip flask.

"One o' these days," swears Jack, "I'll give up the liquor."