Interlude II: Jack
This is the longest chapter in the damn thing so far, sitting at 3054 words. Hot damn.
Interlude II: Jack
and, together there, in a shroud of frost, the mountain air
began to pass through every pane of weathered glass
and i held you closer than anyone would ever get…
~ Death Cab For Cutie, “We Looked Like Giants”
The room is dark and small and there’s hardly any room, but it doesn’t matter to the two men inside. The one pinned against the wall is moaning, clutching the back of the other who is moving roughly against him. The room is hot and the men are slick with sweat, but they hardly notice. There is only the two of them, only this world of friction and desire and need, only this wall. No consequences, no guilt, no rules. Only each other. Only freedom. Only… only… oh, god, Cutler.
“Nnn… hnn… nnnn aaaaa -- J- Jaack…”
FuckwantIwantyou -- moremoreCutler I I I -- goddamnyoufucksogoodmine -- moreIneedyouCutlerCutler I I I think I --
They are on a ship, the night is cold, and the wind is just making it more cold. Cutler is standing there by the rail, staring out at the water. Jack watches him for a long moment, entranced. The moonlight falls upon his hair, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, forming a white silhouette against the dark backdrop of the sea. He’s not exactly built for physical work; he is not tall, his shoulders are not broad, his muscles are too soft, but it doesn’t matter. Jack can’t look away. And when Cutler turns and their eyes meet, Jack realizes that he’s falling --
He’s falling through the void and he can hardly keep his eyes open for the wind screaming against them. He doesn’t know where the bloody hell he is, how the ocean gave way to this -- air? to this nothingness -- why he’s falling when he should be sinking, or what’s waiting for him at the bottom, or if there even is a bottom. Maybe this was what death was, darkness and wind and falling and loneliness forever -- but then there’s a light --
There is light all around them as he is finally driven over the edge and climaxes, as he feels Cutler climax under him. He shudders, they both shudder, he collapses on top of him, panting for breath. Jack touches his forehead to the bed sheets and closes his eyes. It was… It was almost risky to have sex then, in the middle of the afternoon, but the kids were still at school and Jack just couldn’t keep himself away. But it’s all right, it’s all fine now, everything… Jack takes a deep breath. For right now, nothing else matters. Just… Just Cutler.
Jack looks at him, studies his face, his eyes, his lips. Cutler opens his eyes and Jack leans over to kiss the side of his mouth. “Mm…” Cutler breathes out, then back in, and then they are kissing again, this time slower, less desperate, more lovingly --
They are kissing again, and Jack can’t help but stare. Something about seeing Cutler kissing a girl -- Something about seeing Cutler kissing Mattie, seeing Mattie kissing Cutler -- Something is surreal about the whole thing, and Jack can’t wrap his head around it. They’re so bloody different, too. Cutler is… Cutler, and Mattie is -- Mattie is…
A lot like us, Nesera whispers, and Jack doesn’t realize it but he clenches his fist. Nesera is not looking at the couple, but she says, They look happy.
Jack grits his teeth. Good for them. And he, too, turns away, walks away, runs away, and he’s running, running, running forever, away away away as far as he can get --
He wants to go as far as he can before Cutler’s mind returns, before Cutler remembers the engagement ring on his finger, before his conscience catches up with him.
Jack, Nesera is whispering in his mind, Jacky, this is wrong, this is wrong, what about Mattie? Mattie --
Shut up, Jack hisses at her. Shut up shut up shut up I -- He realizes that Cutler has broken the kiss and is looking at him with wide eyes. Jack closes his and takes a deep breath through his nose. Shit.
“Jack…”
“I know.”
“I can’t.”
“I know.”
Cutler takes a deep breath, too. He hasn’t let go of Jack’s arms yet, hasn’t pushed him away. Jack opens his eyes to look into Cutler’s face. For some reason, he’s surprised by the emotions he sees there -- guilt, regret, confusion, desire. Jack wants to kiss him again, and actually leans in as if to do so, and Cutler tilts his head up, eyes closed, lips parted slightly… but Jack stops himself. Cutler slowly opens his eyes, sees the war behind Jack’s. He lowers his head and looks away.
“You’d better go,” he mutters. “She’ll be home soon.”
Emotions swell in Jack’s chest -- fury, jealousy, desire, love, longing -- and he pulls away, no, jerks away, and he is out of the house and long gone before Cutler moves away from the wall --
At the wedding -- god, Jack’s such a fool, why did he accept to be best man, why did he accept to attend the damn thing at all, this is torture --
Is that seat taken…? Congratulations…
At the wedding, Nesera sings quietly in the back of his mind.
I came to see the light in my best friend… You seem as happy as you’d ever been… My chance of being open is broken, and now you’re Mrs. Him…
For once, he doesn’t mind, doesn’t complain; it’s something else to focus on, something else to think about. He’s probably mouthing along now and then, but he doesn’t care, he just doesn’t care. It’s the only thing keeping him grounded. The only thing keeping him from doing something incredibly stupid, like screaming (he is screaming in his head the whole day long) or breaking something or running the fuck out of there --
My words, they don’t come out right… But I’ll try to say I’m happy for you…
They are alone on the ship -- well, as alone as two people can be on a ship full of merchants and sailors -- They are alone in the storage room, and they are supposed to be doing inventory but Cutler asks him a question and Jack has to stop and look up from the list to stare at him. Cutler’s face is flushed and he’s not meeting Jack’s eyes, and Jack suddenly realizes how attractive he is. He’d never really thought about it before; he always felt more inclined to poke fun at Cutler than to kiss him, but at that moment… After that question, muttered in such a low voice…
Jack sets the list down and moves over to him to stand close. Cutler looks up, startled, even more red, and Jack almost hesitates before he leans down and kisses him -- lightly, carefully, just to see. Cutler goes rigid and pushes him back, and he is blushing so furiously that Jack can’t help but find it adorable.
“What,” Cutler says, but his tone is missing the question mark. “What -- ”
“This is the answer to your question,” Jack replies with a shrug. “Ain’t got much of a choice out here in the middle o’ nowhere.”
“So you’ve -- ” Cutler cut himself off and looks away, still red.
Jack waits for a moment. He doesn’t intend to say anything, but then he realizes that Cutler didn’t push him that far away. He also realizes that Cutler still has a hand tangled in the front of his shirt. “So, what do you want to do?” he asks quietly.
Cutler stares at him and those eyes answer instead of his words. Jack leans in to kiss him again and --
Jack leans in to kiss him again and Cutler responds eagerly, arms reaching to wrap around his neck. Jack presses him into his chair, suddenly finding himself lost in Cutler’s taste, something he is realizing he has missed more than he ever knew. He -- Jack -- makes a small sound in the back of his throat and, in response, Cutler pulls him closer. This is the first time they’ve kissed since -- This is the first time they’ve had any contact since before the wedding -- This is the first time they’ve given in to themselves, to each other, since the funeral --
The funeral. The funeral. The funeral. Jack doesn’t want to be there, but he can’t not say goodbye. Not after all the years. Not after everything. He just… It’s hard. It’s hard to stand there in that graveyard and watch that casket lowered into the ground. It’s hard to listen to the priest, it’s hard to just stand there and stare. It’s a rare thing for Jack to lose his energy, but he feels completely drained. It shows in his posture, in his eyes.
He can’t see the kids. They’re standing up near the front of the crowd, and Jack was hiding in the thick of it. He isn’t sure he wants to see them. He isn’t sure what he’d feel. It’s not like he hates the kids or anything, he just feels uncomfortable with them. He feels like he should go and talk to them, say something, but they don’t even know who he is. What would he even say? “Hey, you don’t know me ‘cause I stayed the hell outta the way, but your dad was my lover. I loved a version of him on my world and I fell in love with him again here in this one. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with myself now that he’s dead -- ”
By the time Jack realizes that he’s stopped falling, he also realizes that the wind hasn’t stopped. It’s just not cold any more. It’s also not as demanding; it’s lighter, more teasing. More like a spring breeze than a winter gust. Jack takes long, deep breaths. The air smells sweet. There must be a garden nearby, because those are definitely flowers he’s smelling. The ground is hard beneath him. Jack opens his eyes and sees that the sky is orange and cloudless. Strange. It was the middle of the night when he started falling…
He hears footsteps, but can’t be bothered to sit up and look. The steps are light and hurried -- whoever it is must not weigh much.
“Oh, lord,” he hears a girl saying, “that explains the wind -- Hey! Hey, are you all right?”
The girl’s head appears above him. Her hair is dark and short and she has wide dark eyes.
“Hey… You all right?”
“Uh…” For some reason, it feels strange to talk.
“Here… Lemme help you up.” She offers her hand and, after realizing that his arms are still attached, he takes it. This is weirder than being drunk off his ass.
He wobbles uncertainly on his feet and, laughing, she tugs him so he leans against her. “Yeah, it takes a little to recover,” she says, smiling. She’s a good head shorter than he is. “Travelling between worlds does that to you, apparently.”
He manages to speak this time, and very intelligently, too. “I… Whu?”
The girl is laughing again. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. I went through the saaame thing you did, so I know completely how you feel. I’ll help you out, ‘kay?”
“Uh… right…”
“I’m Mattie Zaizen,” she says as she starts to lead him to the house. He seems to have crash landed in her garden. “Mattea, really, but call me Mattie. What’s your name, stranger?”
“… Jack,” he mumbles.
“Well, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Mr. Jack,” Mattie Zaizen says. “I’ll take good care o’ you.”
Pretty damn nice, he thinks to himself. Wonder if this’ll lead to sex --
This has gotta lead to sex. All the signs are there, and he knows Cutler well enough to tell when he won’t pull away. This is a different Cutler from Jack’s first Cutler, but he’s Cutler nonetheless, and right now that’s all that really matters to Jack.
He even tastes the same. That intoxicating, addicting, purely Cutler taste -- Jack can’t stop kissing him. He doesn’t care that Mattie is in the other room, that she’ll be walking back in any second, he doesn’t care, he just can’t stop, he doesn’t want to, he wants -- He wants --
Cutler moans into his mouth and Jack melts. Jack presses him against the kitchen counter, holding his face with both hands, drinking him in as if his life depended on it. Cutler is clinging to his arms -- god, even that’s the same -- and arching, arching to be closer, and Jack realizes that he can feel Cutler hard against his leg and for a minute Jack thinks he is dying from desire --
Cutler is dying in his arms.
Cutler is dying in his arms.
Cutler is dying.
Cutler is -- He’s hurting. Spider doesn’t suit him at all. Jack thinks to himself that if he ever sees another spider he is going to fucking kill it dead, even if it’s not one of these spiders.
Cutler is dying. And there isn’t anything Jack can do about it. There isn’t anything he can do about it but hold him.
He is vaguely aware that he is crying, but it doesn’t make any sense. He feels… He feels pretty calm, actually. Maybe calm isn’t the right word for it. He feels empty, really. There is a hole in his chest, something scraped a hole in his chest and it feels raw and empty. But it doesn’t make any sense.
Cutler…
Cutler is laughing, and even though it’s at Jack’s expense, he can’t help but grin. Mattie is laughing, too, and between the two people who would become his best friends Jack can’t help but laugh along as he picks himself off the floor.
“Talk about a first impression,” Mattie snickers, pulling back her long dark hair. “You didn’t hurt yourself, didja?”
“Nahh. I’ve a harder head’n that,” he answers, making Nesera snicker in the back of his mind.
Jack dusts his coat off and glances at Cutler. Mattie hasn’t even introduced him yet, but she doesn’t have to. There’s just not any way his name can be anything but…
“This is Cutler Beckett,” says Mattie, hopping over to poke his arm. “I met ‘im through work. I think he’s some kind of hawk, but I’unno for sure. Cutler, this is Jackson Teague. He’s the otherworldly I rescued from my marigolds.”
“It en’t Jackson,” he whines. “’S just Jack.”
“Good to meet you.” Cutler isn’t smiling and there’s no hint that he was laughing moments earlier, but he looks exactly the same as Jack remembers him. Except… Except there is something different. Maybe it’s the way he’s carrying himself. He seems more relaxed. More at ease. Less… stressed, somehow.
Jack doesn’t think he’s going to tell Mattie that he knew a Cutler back at home. It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell her, he just… isn’t really sure how he’d say it. It feels strangely personal…
Maybe it’s because names were more personal to Cutler, but he never told anyone his dæmon’s name. Never Mattie, never Jack, never the kids, not Muyuki or Kinu. It was something private, a personal secret he carried with him to the grave. Jack didn’t think he’d ever find out what it was, and he actually even forgot about it until he was sorting out Cutler’s desk.
Jack never noticed it before, but with everything cleared out he can clearly see the secret compartment in the back of the center drawer. It’s curiosity more than anything else that makes him spend a good ten minutes figuring out how the damn thing opens, but when he pops it open he’s almost disappointed because all that’s there is an envelope. Jack tugs it out of its secret hiding place, closes the drawer, sits on the desk (just like he used to when he wanted to get in the way of Cutler’s work, to annoy him, to get his attention), and tears the envelope open carelessly.
Inside, there is a letter. Jack’s breath nearly catches as his eyes fall on the achingly familiar handwriting.
Jack
I trust that you will take care of things.
Do not leave the children on their own.
I’m sorry. In the end, I suppose I did
Lov Thank you,
C. B.
Shortest goddamn letter ever, but Jack can’t stop staring at it. His heart is hammering in his throat and he can’t get it to go back to his chest where it fucking belongs, and he can’t tear his eyes away from the letter.
Cutler’s hand moved across this page, those fingers wrapped around one of his ridiculous fancy pens, those lips mouthing along with the words he wrote. The mental image is so strong that Jack feels like he’s choking on it. He realizes that his hand is shaking.
Jack turns the letter over to fold it back up and then he sees it -- Four words, scrawled in the bottom corner of the back of the page. They are small, so Jack almost has to squint to read them, but he almost drops the letter when he realizes what they say -- what they mean.
Her name is Demelza.
“Jack?”
“Aye?”
They are standing back to back in the crow’s nest. It’s cold and windy as all hell, but it’s to be expected. Well, it’s what Jack expected, anyway. This is the first time he’s managed to convince this world’s -- sorry, this World’s -- Cutler to come out on a ship with him. Jack warned him it would be cold up there, but Cutler didn’t really listen.
Cutler half-turns, but thinks better of it and turns back. Jack raises his eyebrows. Cutler takes a deep breath, then reaches back to find Jack’s hand. Jack pauses, surprised, but threads their fingers together.
“… Jack?”
“Aye?”
“… I…” He falls silent for a moment, then shakes his head, his grip tightening on Jack‘s hand. “Never mind.”
Jack looks up at the night sky, at the unfamiliar stars that he is starting to learn. Despite the cold, he feels… comfortable. At ease.
“… Cutler?”
“Yes?”
“… I’m startin’ to think I…” Jack hesitates.
“… yes?” Cutler whispers.
“… ‘m fallin’ in love with you.”
There is a long silence. Cutler is clutching Jack’s hand.
“I…” Cutler takes a deep breath. “… yes,” he mumbles, “that is what I meant to say.”
Jack hates to dream.
Interlude II: Jack
and, together there, in a shroud of frost, the mountain air
began to pass through every pane of weathered glass
and i held you closer than anyone would ever get…
~ Death Cab For Cutie, “We Looked Like Giants”
The room is dark and small and there’s hardly any room, but it doesn’t matter to the two men inside. The one pinned against the wall is moaning, clutching the back of the other who is moving roughly against him. The room is hot and the men are slick with sweat, but they hardly notice. There is only the two of them, only this world of friction and desire and need, only this wall. No consequences, no guilt, no rules. Only each other. Only freedom. Only… only… oh, god, Cutler.
“Nnn… hnn… nnnn aaaaa -- J- Jaack…”
FuckwantIwantyou -- moremoreCutler I I I -- goddamnyoufucksogoodmine -- moreIneedyouCutlerCutler I I I think I --
They are on a ship, the night is cold, and the wind is just making it more cold. Cutler is standing there by the rail, staring out at the water. Jack watches him for a long moment, entranced. The moonlight falls upon his hair, his neck, his shoulders, his arms, forming a white silhouette against the dark backdrop of the sea. He’s not exactly built for physical work; he is not tall, his shoulders are not broad, his muscles are too soft, but it doesn’t matter. Jack can’t look away. And when Cutler turns and their eyes meet, Jack realizes that he’s falling --
He’s falling through the void and he can hardly keep his eyes open for the wind screaming against them. He doesn’t know where the bloody hell he is, how the ocean gave way to this -- air? to this nothingness -- why he’s falling when he should be sinking, or what’s waiting for him at the bottom, or if there even is a bottom. Maybe this was what death was, darkness and wind and falling and loneliness forever -- but then there’s a light --
There is light all around them as he is finally driven over the edge and climaxes, as he feels Cutler climax under him. He shudders, they both shudder, he collapses on top of him, panting for breath. Jack touches his forehead to the bed sheets and closes his eyes. It was… It was almost risky to have sex then, in the middle of the afternoon, but the kids were still at school and Jack just couldn’t keep himself away. But it’s all right, it’s all fine now, everything… Jack takes a deep breath. For right now, nothing else matters. Just… Just Cutler.
Jack looks at him, studies his face, his eyes, his lips. Cutler opens his eyes and Jack leans over to kiss the side of his mouth. “Mm…” Cutler breathes out, then back in, and then they are kissing again, this time slower, less desperate, more lovingly --
They are kissing again, and Jack can’t help but stare. Something about seeing Cutler kissing a girl -- Something about seeing Cutler kissing Mattie, seeing Mattie kissing Cutler -- Something is surreal about the whole thing, and Jack can’t wrap his head around it. They’re so bloody different, too. Cutler is… Cutler, and Mattie is -- Mattie is…
A lot like us, Nesera whispers, and Jack doesn’t realize it but he clenches his fist. Nesera is not looking at the couple, but she says, They look happy.
Jack grits his teeth. Good for them. And he, too, turns away, walks away, runs away, and he’s running, running, running forever, away away away as far as he can get --
He wants to go as far as he can before Cutler’s mind returns, before Cutler remembers the engagement ring on his finger, before his conscience catches up with him.
Jack, Nesera is whispering in his mind, Jacky, this is wrong, this is wrong, what about Mattie? Mattie --
Shut up, Jack hisses at her. Shut up shut up shut up I -- He realizes that Cutler has broken the kiss and is looking at him with wide eyes. Jack closes his and takes a deep breath through his nose. Shit.
“Jack…”
“I know.”
“I can’t.”
“I know.”
Cutler takes a deep breath, too. He hasn’t let go of Jack’s arms yet, hasn’t pushed him away. Jack opens his eyes to look into Cutler’s face. For some reason, he’s surprised by the emotions he sees there -- guilt, regret, confusion, desire. Jack wants to kiss him again, and actually leans in as if to do so, and Cutler tilts his head up, eyes closed, lips parted slightly… but Jack stops himself. Cutler slowly opens his eyes, sees the war behind Jack’s. He lowers his head and looks away.
“You’d better go,” he mutters. “She’ll be home soon.”
Emotions swell in Jack’s chest -- fury, jealousy, desire, love, longing -- and he pulls away, no, jerks away, and he is out of the house and long gone before Cutler moves away from the wall --
At the wedding -- god, Jack’s such a fool, why did he accept to be best man, why did he accept to attend the damn thing at all, this is torture --
Is that seat taken…? Congratulations…
At the wedding, Nesera sings quietly in the back of his mind.
I came to see the light in my best friend… You seem as happy as you’d ever been… My chance of being open is broken, and now you’re Mrs. Him…
For once, he doesn’t mind, doesn’t complain; it’s something else to focus on, something else to think about. He’s probably mouthing along now and then, but he doesn’t care, he just doesn’t care. It’s the only thing keeping him grounded. The only thing keeping him from doing something incredibly stupid, like screaming (he is screaming in his head the whole day long) or breaking something or running the fuck out of there --
My words, they don’t come out right… But I’ll try to say I’m happy for you…
They are alone on the ship -- well, as alone as two people can be on a ship full of merchants and sailors -- They are alone in the storage room, and they are supposed to be doing inventory but Cutler asks him a question and Jack has to stop and look up from the list to stare at him. Cutler’s face is flushed and he’s not meeting Jack’s eyes, and Jack suddenly realizes how attractive he is. He’d never really thought about it before; he always felt more inclined to poke fun at Cutler than to kiss him, but at that moment… After that question, muttered in such a low voice…
Jack sets the list down and moves over to him to stand close. Cutler looks up, startled, even more red, and Jack almost hesitates before he leans down and kisses him -- lightly, carefully, just to see. Cutler goes rigid and pushes him back, and he is blushing so furiously that Jack can’t help but find it adorable.
“What,” Cutler says, but his tone is missing the question mark. “What -- ”
“This is the answer to your question,” Jack replies with a shrug. “Ain’t got much of a choice out here in the middle o’ nowhere.”
“So you’ve -- ” Cutler cut himself off and looks away, still red.
Jack waits for a moment. He doesn’t intend to say anything, but then he realizes that Cutler didn’t push him that far away. He also realizes that Cutler still has a hand tangled in the front of his shirt. “So, what do you want to do?” he asks quietly.
Cutler stares at him and those eyes answer instead of his words. Jack leans in to kiss him again and --
Jack leans in to kiss him again and Cutler responds eagerly, arms reaching to wrap around his neck. Jack presses him into his chair, suddenly finding himself lost in Cutler’s taste, something he is realizing he has missed more than he ever knew. He -- Jack -- makes a small sound in the back of his throat and, in response, Cutler pulls him closer. This is the first time they’ve kissed since -- This is the first time they’ve had any contact since before the wedding -- This is the first time they’ve given in to themselves, to each other, since the funeral --
The funeral. The funeral. The funeral. Jack doesn’t want to be there, but he can’t not say goodbye. Not after all the years. Not after everything. He just… It’s hard. It’s hard to stand there in that graveyard and watch that casket lowered into the ground. It’s hard to listen to the priest, it’s hard to just stand there and stare. It’s a rare thing for Jack to lose his energy, but he feels completely drained. It shows in his posture, in his eyes.
He can’t see the kids. They’re standing up near the front of the crowd, and Jack was hiding in the thick of it. He isn’t sure he wants to see them. He isn’t sure what he’d feel. It’s not like he hates the kids or anything, he just feels uncomfortable with them. He feels like he should go and talk to them, say something, but they don’t even know who he is. What would he even say? “Hey, you don’t know me ‘cause I stayed the hell outta the way, but your dad was my lover. I loved a version of him on my world and I fell in love with him again here in this one. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with myself now that he’s dead -- ”
By the time Jack realizes that he’s stopped falling, he also realizes that the wind hasn’t stopped. It’s just not cold any more. It’s also not as demanding; it’s lighter, more teasing. More like a spring breeze than a winter gust. Jack takes long, deep breaths. The air smells sweet. There must be a garden nearby, because those are definitely flowers he’s smelling. The ground is hard beneath him. Jack opens his eyes and sees that the sky is orange and cloudless. Strange. It was the middle of the night when he started falling…
He hears footsteps, but can’t be bothered to sit up and look. The steps are light and hurried -- whoever it is must not weigh much.
“Oh, lord,” he hears a girl saying, “that explains the wind -- Hey! Hey, are you all right?”
The girl’s head appears above him. Her hair is dark and short and she has wide dark eyes.
“Hey… You all right?”
“Uh…” For some reason, it feels strange to talk.
“Here… Lemme help you up.” She offers her hand and, after realizing that his arms are still attached, he takes it. This is weirder than being drunk off his ass.
He wobbles uncertainly on his feet and, laughing, she tugs him so he leans against her. “Yeah, it takes a little to recover,” she says, smiling. She’s a good head shorter than he is. “Travelling between worlds does that to you, apparently.”
He manages to speak this time, and very intelligently, too. “I… Whu?”
The girl is laughing again. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. I went through the saaame thing you did, so I know completely how you feel. I’ll help you out, ‘kay?”
“Uh… right…”
“I’m Mattie Zaizen,” she says as she starts to lead him to the house. He seems to have crash landed in her garden. “Mattea, really, but call me Mattie. What’s your name, stranger?”
“… Jack,” he mumbles.
“Well, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, Mr. Jack,” Mattie Zaizen says. “I’ll take good care o’ you.”
Pretty damn nice, he thinks to himself. Wonder if this’ll lead to sex --
This has gotta lead to sex. All the signs are there, and he knows Cutler well enough to tell when he won’t pull away. This is a different Cutler from Jack’s first Cutler, but he’s Cutler nonetheless, and right now that’s all that really matters to Jack.
He even tastes the same. That intoxicating, addicting, purely Cutler taste -- Jack can’t stop kissing him. He doesn’t care that Mattie is in the other room, that she’ll be walking back in any second, he doesn’t care, he just can’t stop, he doesn’t want to, he wants -- He wants --
Cutler moans into his mouth and Jack melts. Jack presses him against the kitchen counter, holding his face with both hands, drinking him in as if his life depended on it. Cutler is clinging to his arms -- god, even that’s the same -- and arching, arching to be closer, and Jack realizes that he can feel Cutler hard against his leg and for a minute Jack thinks he is dying from desire --
Cutler is dying in his arms.
Cutler is dying in his arms.
Cutler is dying.
Cutler is -- He’s hurting. Spider doesn’t suit him at all. Jack thinks to himself that if he ever sees another spider he is going to fucking kill it dead, even if it’s not one of these spiders.
Cutler is dying. And there isn’t anything Jack can do about it. There isn’t anything he can do about it but hold him.
He is vaguely aware that he is crying, but it doesn’t make any sense. He feels… He feels pretty calm, actually. Maybe calm isn’t the right word for it. He feels empty, really. There is a hole in his chest, something scraped a hole in his chest and it feels raw and empty. But it doesn’t make any sense.
Cutler…
Cutler is laughing, and even though it’s at Jack’s expense, he can’t help but grin. Mattie is laughing, too, and between the two people who would become his best friends Jack can’t help but laugh along as he picks himself off the floor.
“Talk about a first impression,” Mattie snickers, pulling back her long dark hair. “You didn’t hurt yourself, didja?”
“Nahh. I’ve a harder head’n that,” he answers, making Nesera snicker in the back of his mind.
Jack dusts his coat off and glances at Cutler. Mattie hasn’t even introduced him yet, but she doesn’t have to. There’s just not any way his name can be anything but…
“This is Cutler Beckett,” says Mattie, hopping over to poke his arm. “I met ‘im through work. I think he’s some kind of hawk, but I’unno for sure. Cutler, this is Jackson Teague. He’s the otherworldly I rescued from my marigolds.”
“It en’t Jackson,” he whines. “’S just Jack.”
“Good to meet you.” Cutler isn’t smiling and there’s no hint that he was laughing moments earlier, but he looks exactly the same as Jack remembers him. Except… Except there is something different. Maybe it’s the way he’s carrying himself. He seems more relaxed. More at ease. Less… stressed, somehow.
Jack doesn’t think he’s going to tell Mattie that he knew a Cutler back at home. It’s not that he doesn’t want to tell her, he just… isn’t really sure how he’d say it. It feels strangely personal…
Maybe it’s because names were more personal to Cutler, but he never told anyone his dæmon’s name. Never Mattie, never Jack, never the kids, not Muyuki or Kinu. It was something private, a personal secret he carried with him to the grave. Jack didn’t think he’d ever find out what it was, and he actually even forgot about it until he was sorting out Cutler’s desk.
Jack never noticed it before, but with everything cleared out he can clearly see the secret compartment in the back of the center drawer. It’s curiosity more than anything else that makes him spend a good ten minutes figuring out how the damn thing opens, but when he pops it open he’s almost disappointed because all that’s there is an envelope. Jack tugs it out of its secret hiding place, closes the drawer, sits on the desk (just like he used to when he wanted to get in the way of Cutler’s work, to annoy him, to get his attention), and tears the envelope open carelessly.
Inside, there is a letter. Jack’s breath nearly catches as his eyes fall on the achingly familiar handwriting.
Jack
I trust that you will take care of things.
Do not leave the children on their own.
I’m sorry. In the end, I suppose I did
Lov Thank you,
C. B.
Shortest goddamn letter ever, but Jack can’t stop staring at it. His heart is hammering in his throat and he can’t get it to go back to his chest where it fucking belongs, and he can’t tear his eyes away from the letter.
Cutler’s hand moved across this page, those fingers wrapped around one of his ridiculous fancy pens, those lips mouthing along with the words he wrote. The mental image is so strong that Jack feels like he’s choking on it. He realizes that his hand is shaking.
Jack turns the letter over to fold it back up and then he sees it -- Four words, scrawled in the bottom corner of the back of the page. They are small, so Jack almost has to squint to read them, but he almost drops the letter when he realizes what they say -- what they mean.
Her name is Demelza.
“Jack?”
“Aye?”
They are standing back to back in the crow’s nest. It’s cold and windy as all hell, but it’s to be expected. Well, it’s what Jack expected, anyway. This is the first time he’s managed to convince this world’s -- sorry, this World’s -- Cutler to come out on a ship with him. Jack warned him it would be cold up there, but Cutler didn’t really listen.
Cutler half-turns, but thinks better of it and turns back. Jack raises his eyebrows. Cutler takes a deep breath, then reaches back to find Jack’s hand. Jack pauses, surprised, but threads their fingers together.
“… Jack?”
“Aye?”
“… I…” He falls silent for a moment, then shakes his head, his grip tightening on Jack‘s hand. “Never mind.”
Jack looks up at the night sky, at the unfamiliar stars that he is starting to learn. Despite the cold, he feels… comfortable. At ease.
“… Cutler?”
“Yes?”
“… I’m startin’ to think I…” Jack hesitates.
“… yes?” Cutler whispers.
“… ‘m fallin’ in love with you.”
There is a long silence. Cutler is clutching Jack’s hand.
“I…” Cutler takes a deep breath. “… yes,” he mumbles, “that is what I meant to say.”
Jack hates to dream.