FicWad

Liam stirs on the bed, and Jack strokes his arm. Jack wants to stroke his son’s hair, but Liam’s injury was a gunshot to the head, so stroking his hair would be ill-advised. When Doctor Sparrow bandaged it, he shaved Liam’s head, breaking the illusion of the physical similarities between Liam and Jack that caused his injury. Jack worries that his son may become too much like him. Jack fears for his sons. He knows where he has been, and he fears that they might tread the same path, especially knowing that Liam has his propensity for trouble. Jack strokes his son’s face gingerly. Liam reaches up to touch his father’s hand. Jack squeezes Liam’s hand gently, but steadily. Liam smiles weakly in response. For the first time in weeks, Liam is sentient. He has been bed-bound and unconscious for nearly two months. He was shot in the head shortly after Jack ran away from Crosspoint, Liam, and Kerrigan. Jack blames himself. Had he been there, it would have been he, not Liam, abed.

“That ye, da’?”

“Aye, son. ‘Tis me. I’m here.”

“Is it really yourself?”

“’Tis.”

“Am I dead?”

“No, son, but ye gave us quite a fright.”

“Where am I?”

“In Highton. Ye’re home.”

“What day’s it?”

“December sixth.”

“Happy belated birthday, da’.”

“Thankee, though ye really oughtn’t call me ‘da’ after what I did to ye.’”

“Ye’re me da’. I may’s well call ye so.”

“I’ve always been jus’ Jack, ‘cept, o’ course, on the battlefield. Then I’m Senatorial General, sor. I hate bein’ sor. Nobody used to call me sor. I was just like any other man, an’ then I got meself wrapped up in the revolution, an’ overnight I became a sor. Ye follow?”

“Ye’re askin’ if I like the army.”

“In a way, aye, I am.”

“I do, sor.”

“Please, Liam, we’re at home. The army ain’t here. I’m Jack here. Even da’ is better than sor. I’m askin’ ye as a father to his son.”

“I like it, da’. I jus’ wanna be wi’ me men.”

“They’re comin’ home for Yuletide. The war’s far from o’er, but there’ll not be no fightin’ o’er the holiday. Ye must be starved.”

“Aye, but I can’t even sit.”

“Kerrigan’s here, so somethin’ll be done. Don’t ye worry. Love ye, son.”

“Love ye too, da’.”

Jack finds Kerrigan, who left with Lynn shortly after Liam woke. She hurriedly follows Jack to Liam’s room for the chance to see him awake and sentient. It bothers her to think that three of her dear friends are ill, Jack having just returned from two months wandering around in self-revulsion. He is barely alive himself, yet he worries about his adult son Liam, who is in bed with a gunshot wound to the head. He is lucky to be alive at all, though his injuries are no fault of his own. Shane is also bed-ridden, though he suffers from a broken leg, which occurred because he was trying to take care of everything himself while Jack was away. Jack blames himself for everything. Had he not lost himself in the opium, he would not have impregnated Kerrigan. Had he not impregnated Kerrigan, he would not have run away in shame. Had he not run away, Liam never would have been shot in his place, and Shane would not have been trying to do everything himself. Had Shane not been trying to do everything himself, he would not have fallen. Therefore, Jack feels that he is entirely responsible for all of his family’s problems, and he finds it disgusting that his family welcomed him after everything he did. His son was shot in his place, yet he greets him warmly. He abandoned his position at the head of his family when he ran away, leaving his younger brother to care for everything, and Shane broke his leg doing so, yet Shane was relieved to see him home. He raped Kerrigan, yet she was the one who sought him and brought him home. Jack does not understand what people see in him. He sees himself as a great terror to those he loves, and he hates himself for what he has done to his family, but he hates himself more for what he did to Kerrigan.

“Jack,” asks Kerrigan, “are you alright?”

“Hmm?”

“Liam is resting. We should leave him.” They step into the hall, Kerrigan closing the door behind them as she asks, “Jack, is something wrong?”

“Aye. Ye’re wi’ child, an’ ‘tis me own fault.”

“Do not blame yourself.”

“If I can’t blame meself, who can I blame.”

“Blame me.”

“Ye’re not at fault. Ye did nothin’ wrong.”

“I am a terrible tease. My husband says so routinely. I have known for years that you desired me, and I invited you into my cabin, convincing myself that this was no longer true, though I knew well that it was. I probably brought you to do it.”

“Ye didn’t. I’ve impulses. I’m no child, though. I should’ve been able to stop meself. If ye were to say a word, I’d be executed, as ye know right well.”

“I know. I will not say a word. You are not, by far, the only man to lust after me. Nor are you the only one to act upon it.”

“I hate meself for it.”

“Do not blame yourself.”

“I feel like shite.”

“I know.”

“If this is what it feels like to hurt ye, I’ll never do it again.”

“Hush, Jack. You need to rest. In a month, you need to be back in Crosspoint. I will not be there with you. I need to know that you will be alright alone.”

“I won’t be. I know that. ‘Twon’t be the first time, though.”

“I cannot run after you continually now. I must think of the baby.”

“Somehow, I’m not concerned he’ll be weak. ‘Twill be a strong child. I know it. Look at his ma’.”

“Look at the baby’s father. Really look, Jack. I am worried with good reason. Yes, you have two beautiful little sons, but do you really think, for even one minute, that your flattery will work on me? There is no hope of me running to your side just because you did something stupid and I am the one to suffer from it.”

“Then help me. Save me, Kerrigan.”

“I have told you a hundred times, Jack, that I cannot save you from yourself. If you want to stop doing ridiculous things like running away from your mistakes, then we will talk about business, but I can help you with nothing else. If I am not mistaken, you feel guilty because you still want me to leave my husband in order to be with you.”

“Aye,” Jack says with shame.

“Have you looked at your wife recently? Do you know how many men want her? She is the most wanted woman in Hell, and yet you want me, a woman loved only by her own children and thought of as attractive by nobody.”

“I think ye’re quite pretty, Kerr.”

“I am not. You, however, are an incurable flatterer.”

“Am not.”

“Hush, Jack. Rest.”

Kerrigan sings him an old lullaby that he remembers from his long-distant childhood, and he finally rests. Her voice is sweet and melodic. He is lost in the sound as if he were a small child again. He rests his head on her shoulder and she strokes his hair wither her soft, white hands. He drinks out of a bottle on his desk while she is singing, and he relaxes properly for the first time in over two months. Kerrigan’s voice has an ethereal quality to it, in Jack’s opinion. Nothing else is like it. Nothing has this effect on him. The words themselves are intoxicating, as is the simple melody. He has magnificent hearing, thus he can hear Lynn singing a simple harmony from the stairs at the other end of the hall. Their voices are beautiful together. The harmony is haunting and sad. The man lets down his guard and rests like a child.

Dún do shúile a rún mo chroí
A chuid den tsaol is a ghrá liom.
Dún do shúile a rún mo chroí
Is gheobhair féirín amárach.

The next morning, the heir of Hell is standing in three feet of snow in Jack’s yard drawing water for the animals in the barn. Jack’s horse needs to be shod. Three of Spectre’s shoes are rusted, and one has detached. Jack needs his horse to be in a condition where he is able to be ridden to Bridgeton by the next day, as he must make arrangements for his Yuletide celebration. He stares at a letter his sister sent. He decides not to reply. She will be leaving home within a few days, and the letter will miss her if he does reply. He would rather just face her wrath in person.

“Dear Jack,

“I hope this letter finds you well. I cannot be angry with you if you are injured or dead, unless it is by your own hand or through your own stupidity, as it more than likely is, if that be the case. I hope to find you in good spirits, though I doubt very much that it will be so. I will be arriving around the middle of December. Happy birthday, by the way. Your wife sent me and the twins letters asking if you had been here or in Kilainaigh City, so I sent copies of this to your Senate Office, your District Office, your house, and several of your friends’ houses in hopes that one might find you. I anticipate that most of your friends will be very confused when they receive these letters, as I know that several of them are illiterate. Perhaps your Senate could do something about that.

“I know where you are. You are in Bridgeton. I know that you will return home, though I do not know precisely when. I know that you deserted your men to spend your time in bars and opium dens. I strongly disapprove, though, as you know, I have no legal authority to take action against you. If you continue in this fashion, opium will be your downfall. The entire family will go with you, as well. If you die, the role of patriarch falls to Shane. He is in no position to take over your role. He is a refugee. He has no political influence, money, or power. Without the political influence and power you ensure, the twins will quickly be lost to an unforgiving legal system, doubtlessly for something minor, and their troubles will build off of one another. I am a woman. I cannot save anyone from my position. Your sons are of little use still, for they are very young. As for Liam, he has been shot in the head. It is, as yet, unclear even to me whether my nephew lives or dies. I wish him the best. If he wakes, send my love.

“As for you, Jack, I do not know what to do with you. You are a disgrace. You raped your best friend. I saw the whole event using more than one method of divination. Words cannot describe how despicable your actions were. Kerrigan showed you nothing but kindness, and you took her affections by force and impregnated her. I cannot believe how low you have stooped. The only reason that I will not breathe a word is to protect the woman you love. Lynn would be utterly devastated if she knew. You had best not break her heart. Do not say a word, Jack. I have no idea, for once, what you thought you were doing. If I ever find that you have done something that stupid again, I will make you suffer more than you could ever believe. If you are not home by the time I arrive for Yule, I will personally search you out in Bridgeton, and you had best hope that Death finds you before I do.

“That being said, I do still love you, my brother. If I can help in any way, I would be glad to do so. I wish you luck and health, which is more than you have now. I hope that I will be arriving to celebrate Yule and not to attend your funeral, but what will happen will happen.

“All my love,

“Shannon

“P.S. I will be sharing a room with Siobhan’s father this Yule whether you like it or not.”

“Jack, she means well,” says Kerrigan. “Your sister is a tough woman. She raised a daughter on her own. She farms the land herself, and she makes very little extra money. She fought for everything she has, and you will not let her marry a man who would guarantee an income and security. Of course she seems hostile at times.”

“He’s an ass.”

“He is not.”

“She could do better.”

“She loves him.”

“He’s a ne’er-do-well. He’s no morals.”

“He is easily a better man than you are.”

“I never said I was a good man. I just said I don’ like the man, an’ I get the final say, an’ I say she’s not to marry him.”

“Please consider it.”

“I won’t.”

“That was not a request. You will give it some serious thought.”

“Why should I?”

“The foremost reason is this: you do not want to make an enemy of your sister.”

“True. Perhaps, then.”

“I know, Jack. Come downstairs with me. Lynn and I have made breakfast. It should be just about ready by now.”

“Not hungry.”

“You need to eat something.”

“Not hungry.”

“You are going to eat something.”

“Yes, Kerrigan.”

Jack grudgingly goes downstairs to breakfast. His sons are at the table, as are his wife and brother, and Kerrigan’s husband. Morietur is sitting between Jack’s sons. He has already cut up Jason’s food and is currently feeding oatmeal to John, who is almost a year old. Jack has been out of bed since before dawn. He went straight to his office, which is an interior room with no windows. It is the morning of December seventh. He has about a week to tidy the entire house and somehow make himself presentable before his sister arrives. He is not hungry at all. In fact, quite the reverse is true, but Kerrigan is watching him as a mother would watch her child, though her child is also his child, and he is plagued by that simple fact. He manages to eat eggs, sausage, boxties, and oatmeal. He did not sleep well, and everyone can tell that he is more irritable than normal. Even the normally playful, five-year-old Jason does not antagonize his father. Jack is not drinking whiskey with his breakfast, as is his usual habit. The lack of liquor strikes everyone as strange and instills a certain amount of fear in the adults who remember his decision to marry Lynn while totally sober a year earlier, which meant a week’s worth of withdrawal. Jack does not laugh or joke at the table. Instead, he solemnly clears his place and retreats to his office without saying a word.

He puts his things in order and goes downstairs to walk around the yard. His horse needs shoes. The only practicing blacksmith he trusts, Saxen O’Casey, lives on the city limits on the far side of Bridgeton. His mare hates the city, but he saddles her anyhow. Saxen always comes to Jack’s Yuletide feast, but getting him to come all the way to Jack’s house for a long-overdue job may prove difficult. His youngest son Ronan, who lives with him, will have just returned from Crosspoint, and Saxen is a family man. Saxen is also quite old, and, due to a hard life, his age shows. Jack rides out to the O’Caseys’ house with a minimum of fuss from his mare and knocks on the door. General Ronan O’Casey, who is a bachelor, answers the door expecting a female friend of his. When he sees his superior officer instead, he stands at attention. Jack tells him to relax and that he is not there on military business. Ronan embraces him tightly upon hearing this and does not let go until Jack asks him to stop. Ronan, being a military man, is not normally one to visibly display emotion, but he and Generals Keegan Callahan and Eamon Malone have been looking for Jack since he disappeared. When Jack asks to see Saxen, Ronan runs inside to fetch his father. Saxen appears with a gnarled walking stick and a concerned expression. Jack tells him of the business at hand, and he immediately fetches his coat and tools and goes to the little barn to saddle his own horse.

When they arrive in Highton, Jack invites Saxen into the house for a quick drink. Shane is sitting in an armchair reading a foreign newspaper and drinking tea. Jack grunts hello to his brother. Shane looks up and nods. Jack makes a cup of tea for himself, another for Shane, and one for Saxen. Saxen is unaccustomed to such luxuries as fine china, but he is appreciative of the warmth, for his job today will be a miserable one. He goes out to the barn with his tools. Spectre, Jack’s stallion, has three shoes that are rusted and one that fell off completely. Normally, Jack would not allow his favorite horse’s condition to deteriorate so much, but the accident had happened while Jack was away in an opium den in Bridgeton. Kerrigan brought Spectre back to Highton from Crosspoint after Jack disappeared. Shane took the horse into the woods where a loose shoe was lost. Spectre limped back, but the next day, Shane fell off a ladder and broke his leg. Spectre’s missing shoe was forgotten in the attempts to care for Shane, and the window in his stall was left open, allowing snow to come in during a storm and puddle on the floor. When it melted, Spectre was left standing in it, and his remaining shoes rusted. Spectre is now ill and in pain. Jack stands by his horse and calms him while Saxen shoes him. Despite the pain, Spectre, comforted to see his old master, remains calm. Spectre nudges Jack, who opens a hatch door to a cellar and brings up three carrots and an apple for the horse and stays with him long after paying the blacksmith and reminding him of the Yuletide festivities that will soon take place.

Kerrigan comes outside to tell Jack that lunch is ready, but she decides better of it when she sees him grooming Spectre and brings his lunch outside in a pail. Jack sits on a small stool near Spectre eating the rest of it. The horse continually tries to steal Jack’s bread. Jack feels at ease with the horse. Spectre, being a horse, does not care what he has done to people. He only cares that he is here now and might give treats. Jack returns to the task of properly grooming his stallion. The horse is feeling somewhat better for being cared for properly. Jack can tell. He knows his horse, and he knows how he would feel in the same situation. Spectre begins to play with Jack, taking his hat and tossing it and animatedly chasing him around the barn, finding the new horseshoes far less painful. Jack ties him up and cleans out his stall. The twins did not do badly cleaning at all, but the small oversight of leaving Spectre’s window open when Shane was injured damaged the old horseshoes beyond the point where they could be used. Spectre nudges his saddle. Jack does not want to ride a horse with a head cold and brand new shoes, but Spectre seems to want to go through the woods. Jack knows the urge. He had it himself when he was ill and abed.

Jack rides Spectre through the woods. He lets the horse pick the pace. Much of the three feet of snow was caught in the trees, so the path only has a few inches of light powder which sprays fantastically as they race through it. Spectre gets lonely and somewhat anxious without Jack, who bought him when he was only a foal. The two became very attached during the long years of the revolution. Jack named him Spectre when he saw the beautiful chestnut colt for the first time. He shied away from most of the people observing him, but he walked over to Jack and nudged his hand gently. The little horse took to him immediately, so Jack bought him. Spectre proved to be fearless of noise, and Jack slowly introduced the colt to crowds. The horse and the man developed an understanding, each knowing how the other felt and what he needed. Jack and Spectre have an understanding that goes far beyond the idea of a horse and its rider or a man and his animal. They are friends. To watch them racing through the winter woods is to watch a ball of fire charge between gray trees on a monochromatic landscape of gray and white upsetting everything in its path yet leaving it serene and somehow unchanged. The snow kicks up around them in a whirlwind that looks like smoke behind the flame-like color of the horse and its rider’s hair. Jack is wearing black instead of his usual green, which makes him appear like coal in the blaze of fiery movement. The horse and rider move as one as they jump over the frozen river and run through the forested paths. They return to the fields where the snow is deeper and tread slowly back toward the barn, both panting and trying desperately hard to catch their breath. Jack gives his horse another apple, removes the saddle and bridle, puts him in his stall, brushes him off again, and puts an extra blanket on him before returning to the house.

Jack finds Kerrigan in the drawing room and asks her where Lynn went. She tells him that Lynn is waiting for him in the kitchen with the last slice of apple and rowan berry pie. Jack rushes into the kitchen to be with his wife and eat a treat that is hardly ever available. Lynn is glad to see that her husband has his appetite back, at least his appetite for sweet things. She thinks that perhaps she should begin to cook dinner, but she has missed her husband desperately. He smokes a cigar, devours his pie, shares a quick drink with her, and carries her upstairs. They spend most of the afternoon together. Kerrigan and Morietur know precisely what they are doing and know better to bother Lynn about dinner, so Kerrigan cooks rabbit stew for dinner. Lynn lies in Jack’s arms exhausted, yet happy. She has missed him more than she ever thought she could. She loves her husband dearly, and she worried that she would never see him again. She worried that he might have died and become an anonymous corpse found on the streets. She is very thankful toward those who looked night and day for him. If it were not for them, Jack would have never been found. She falls asleep on Jack’s shoulder. He lies on his back and drinks whiskey and smoking cigars until dinner. He wakes Lynn with a horrible cough about ten minutes before Kerrigan comes up to announce dinner. His cigar smoking occasionally gets the better of him, mostly when he is lying on his back. He apologizes to his wife as soon as the coughing subsides enough for him to speak. She ensures him that it is not a problem, but Kerrigan walks in to announce dinner with both of them lying completely naked on the bed. She decidedly takes no notice.

At dinner, Jack and Lynn squirm in an uncomfortable silence while Morietur, Kerrigan, and Shane speak. A letter came from the twins saying that they would be arriving three days before Yule, but there is very little other news to report. The troops came home for Yuletide on the conditions of a temporary ceasefire. The Senate is not scheduled to meet until January. Jason animatedly speaks of his adventures at school, but Jack only pays him so much heed. Jack’s desire is to fall asleep unnoticed. The only thing he says during dinner is that Kerrigan’s stew is very good. At the end, he offers to do the dishes so that he does not have to stay for the conversation. Lynn expresses her desire to be a mother, and Kerrigan assures her that it will happen at some point.

Lynn and Jack retreat upstairs where they can sit by the fire in their room. Kerrigan and Morietur have been separated by wars before, and Morietur once ran away. Lynn remembers watching Kerrigan, who had miscarried a child due to Lycanthropy, sit up all night unable to sleep waiting for her husband to come home. Kerrigan suffered for the greater part of a year. Lynn only suffered for two months. When Morietur came home, from what Lynn remembers, he was terribly ill in the same way that Jack is, and he would hardly let his wife touch him. She knows that Jack is blaming himself for something, but she does not know what it might be. Lynn has seen every little thing that Jack is doing before. She knows that he is hiding something. She does not ask. Her previous relationships have taught her never to ask questions of the men she loves because asking questions always ends with physical pain. Lynn survived the nights without Jack by drinking the poitín he made in the barn. Now that he is home, she is not sure whether or not she should be curled up next to him. Lynn bids Jack to come to bed, which he does with some reluctance. He lies restlessly and thinks about everything. He worries about Kerrigan. Morietur has been drinking, and he can hear Kerrigan and Morietur fighting downstairs, grateful for the fact that they are speaking in Demonic and that Jason cannot understand what they are saying. Jack only knows a few words of the Demonic language, but most of the words being said are remarkably profane, and he has heard them before. Kerrigan and Morietur were the first married couple ever. They will last forever, and Kerrigan has the scars to prove it. If there is one thing that Jack can claim in his favor, it is that he has never hit a woman. He gives thought to what Kerrigan said about his sister. He may just consider letting her marry. After all, what does he have to lose? He has already lost everyone’s respect, including his own.