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week 12 | when Jack is deda
I will simply put my faith in you once more.
One last time.
[ Fridays were rolling together far more quickly than she would have imagined. Two had passed and now, Elizabeth feels alone. She was in the dark, completely with what had happened. Loved ones on the ship as the final hours began ticking. Everything had shut off like little stars dimming themselves goodnight before the sun rises.
Elizabeth knew Rhys was gone and she feels a burden on her chest. She doesn't want anyone to worry about her - no one at all. Adelina, Hancock, hell - even Bull probably took a worry with her after her untimely death and she doesn't... want that. She wasn't a little girl, not anymore.
She sits on the springy, dry cot that situates itself in the corner of her cabin. It was lonely, but then again - was she ever really not lonely? Her whole life can be summed up to people leaving her or people living her alone.
Elizabeth hadn't the heart to venture out - to ask who joined them in the graveyard. One? Two? Who knew how many could be slaughtered as long as those creatures still roamed free. She had requested one thing - a notepad to draw lazily against. Her pencil drags in abstract shapes, blossoming flowers and flying birds daring to jolt off the page.
She was fine with this, she thinks. She served her purpose to help the others and she prays, oh, as her head lays down and she murmurs to herself - she prays for everyone aboard the Pygmalion. ]
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He'd never actually thought too much about what it would be like when he died. Truthfully, it was entirelly because he just didn't like the thought of it. Jack was the sort of man that had climbed so high that he feared his mortality more than most. Perhaps he did because he knew that if someone of the ideas about what may be beyond death were true, he would have a very, very long way to fall. But just as much, it could be a simpler fear, because Jack's unnatural ambition and drive also meant that death was simply an obstacle to him. If he died, then so too would all those ambitions for changing the world like he knew would be for the best.
But here-- Here, he doesn't know what to make of it. He looks at the sky, the idyllic cabins, the woods, and all of it rings as something strange and unnatural to him. He was used to the sterile environments of Helios or the barren wastelands of Pandora. Anything this lush was something he knew existed, but it was something he had very rarely seen with his own eyes. So perhaps as such, some of that appeal is lost on him. Instead, just what this is, his mind is quick to race. His thoughts turn away from his own death, because as always, he can never accept truths that he doesn't like. Instead, he thinks of possibility, because he had run through this scenario a hundred times in his head already.
There was a path forward. There always was. So it was simply a matter of getting started.
Though to that end... Starting was the difficult part. He had his ideas on what this place truly was, but they were little more than theories. So never content with simply resting, Jack knows that he has to find one of those precious few people that he had trusted on the Pygmalion.
It's probably very suddenly for Elizabeth when there's a sharp knock at her door. It's the sort of urgent that would probably make her jump, but it's very quickly followed by a voice she'll recognize immediately. ]
Liz— Liz, c'mon, please tell me that I finally picked the right friggin' one.
[ How many houses has he knocked on before this one? Enough. ]
1/2
Elizabeth had "died" three times now, falling in her own sense of morality. Whether she's truly dead or some... program waiting to be restarted, she wanted to keep doing good. She tries - but in the end, she wants nothing more than to rest. To say the right prayer for a miracle.
And her eyes jet open when she hears the knock. It makes her jump, flinching as she stirs in the bed. She's quick to act, jetting off the bed towards the door but she stops at the doorknob.
His voice hits her ears.
Elizabeth thinks of the moment when Booker offered her the key out of her tower. That moment of choice where she could open the door and feel better or stay in fear.
...unlike in Columbia, she lowers her hand against the door frame and stays silent for a few moments. She chooses the cage. ]
2/2
Elizabeth didn't know what she would face if Jack died or they were revived - if that was even a possibility now. She can't rehearse the words when she doesn't know her feelings. ]
Jack...?
[ Elizabeth doesn't open the door just yet... stepping back a bit and facing away from the door, she weighs her options. Her heart feels heavy and she feels a sense of pity - but also... an oddly just way? She spoke with Hancock about her revenge, but it falls on her now in ways that she can't comprehend. ]
It's not possible - you're not - ... you couldn't have died.
[ She says to herself, it takes all of her courage to turn and twist the doorknob, slowly opening it a crack and looking up to him with a sorrowful expression.
They widen when they see him. ]
Oh God...
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[ It's easy to hear Jack curse to himself through the door, and if Elizabeth had hesitated much longer, he would have left to go knock on everyone else's doors without a doubt. Even in death, he seems to be full of that ambitious energy that was so unique to him, but he stops when he hears Elizabeth say his name. He turns back to the door and smiles with equal parts relief and something like excitement, but that could just be from the simpler pleasure of having successfully found her at all.
It is short-lived, though.
Elizabeth doesn't open the door, smiling and ready to greet him. It strikes him suddenly that he's not sure why he had expected some sort of tearful reunion. He'd had some kind of image in his mind, some idea of a tearful, happy embrace, like the hero returning home from his hardship, but once he's aware of that image, he also realizes just where it comes from. Why it's wrong. At least, now he does, because no matter how much he tries, he can't get what the Queen had shown him out of his head. Not completely. So expecting something like what Alice had promised him—
His excitement sinks like a stone.
By the time she opens the door, his hands have settled on his hips, and he gives her a small smile through the crack of the door. He's whole again, not bearing the injuries that he'd gained on the ship, but that scarred face still smiles back at her, though more tired than it had been only a moment ago. ]
...Ehhh, well, think we both knew how that was gonna turn out in the end, probably. Only so many targets I could put on my back before a bullet found one of 'em, right?
[ He shrugs, but it comes with a little nod to her just after. ]
Hey, kiddo. Good to see you again.
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Elizabeth is frozen, seeing his lips part and words sink into her. He can see how her fingers twitch onto the doorframe, how her flesh looked as pale as a porcelain doll. She wasn't seeing a ghost - not quite. The door cracks open a bit more and she's standing there, a little more messy than usual. Her jacket had been tossed to the side, her skirt tattered and still stained with sand from her excursions at the beach and forest - Elizabeth finally breathes a heavy sigh and -
She's on him. If there's anything he can get it was a true, honest hug. Maybe it didn't need to be another universe. She holds her emotions inside, stiffening her bottom lip and trying hard to remember to breath as her face buries against his chest. It lasts only a minute before she drags her hands down and completely begins to pound against his chest. ]
Stupid! You're so stupid!
[ She tugs her gaze up, swallowing her own spit harshly as her words tremble. ]
You only painted the targets because you like the challenge, the egotistical and self-motivating challenge...! I didn't want to see you here - I didn't want to see you like this -
[ She doesn't pull away, not at all. ]
I'm sorry - [ She wonders if Rhys would apologize too. ] It shouldn't have ended like this...
[ She trails off before pressing her cheek against him, fleeting emotions from anger to sadness consuming her. ]
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She reaches him first.
For a moment, Jack is so surprised that Elizabeth was the one to embrace him that he stands still, but that's truly only momentary. As soon as the shock passes, he wraps his arms around her and hugs her tightly. He hugs her in a way that probably subtly feels strange, because it's so tight that it's almost like he's afraid of her letting go. After all, in truth, though she's mostly separated from Angel now... There's still some of that grief that he can't help but project, even if he's aware of it and sees now how it reflects upon him more than anyone else.
For a moment, he thinks he'll tell her, and there's a "I'm sorry" on his lips, but as soon as Elizabeth shifts, his grip lessens to let her. Jack thinks she'll pull away, but he's surprised again as her fists hit his chest. He raises both of his arms up neutrally, not wanting to touch her as she rages, but her words just pull out a smile. It's not a full one, but he nods to her words all the same. ]
...Y'know, I'll probably get hit again, but, yeah, you're probably right.
[ He can't even deny it at all. Jack hadn't painted those targets for anyone else, and he'd even denied it when doing so might have come off as being self-sacrificing. It didn't suit him, and he knew that, but he also just never liked that kind of narrative. The hero that dies fighting was the hero he wanted to be, not the hero that dies in vain for others.
Jack doesn't hug her fully when she presses back, just an arm looped around her shoulders, but he bows his head against hers. It's very gentle, and it's the kind of fatherly gesture that's so automatic that he almost doesn't think about it at all, but he kisses her hair as if it's something to soothe her. ]
Hey- Hey, no need to apologize, though. It's- uh. It's not what I expected, that's for sure, but. Dunno. Doesn't feel like the end to me.
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“What is Columbia but a new ark for a new time?” Comstock once asked and in their isolation outside of the cabin, she wonders if that was what the Pygmalion was. No, she can't continue to make those connections anymore than Jack can make those about Angel. Elizabeth realizes this now... Jack isn't Comstock.
He's here - flesh and bone, she feels. Her fingers clutch at his shirt, nearly stretching the neck out from how she tries to compose herself. ]
I would kill you if I could, you know. For being stupid... for being... for everything. I never felt as much fear as I have when you opened your mouth about your role - [ TW: roles. ] Look where it got you. At least you get your own cabin.
[ Her words are dry, but not angry. Not painful and she finds it hard to picture this ending any other way. Were they all to end up here...?
Her musing was cut short as he's intimate in a way she's never felt. Someone's concern and happiness - the gesture was conflicting but she lets it happen. He feels her move her hand to find his wrist, holding it softly. ]
How can you be so sure? Is it your own determination to fight the odds? [ There's that girl he through a tablet with - the sass that drips even when she speaks with such a polite tone. ] ...Did it hurt...? Did you suffer -
[ There's worry on her face, even if she knows what the answers will be. ]
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I'm sorry about that, Liz.
[ And more, but that's not quite something he's ready to get into just yet. He's only barely begun to reconcile those feelings, and that's a lot to unload on her all at once. At least at first, there are the simpler things to work through. This reunion, mostly. As soon as he'd gotten her message, his grief had all but evaporated to instead be replaced by the sort of lonely longing that comes more from a friend being too far away to speak with them frequently. But still. There's a somberness here that's ever-present, even if Jack doesn't quite feel it fully for himself.
The kiss is as intimate as he gets, but he continues to hold her. He's a pretty physical person, and though he had always worried about infringing on her space, there's certainly a comfort now in being able to hold her. He hopes it's comforting, though in that, he can hardly be sure. ]
...Hah, something like that, yeah. Just figure, if this was death, real death, it'd be different. Third time's the charm, y'know. But, uh, guess that's only for me.
[ Technically, that second death hadn't come for him yet, but he still counts it all the same. But for the third— ]
Don't actually... remember much of it. Is that normal? That doesn't really seem normal. But... [ He pauses, and his sigh comes out thoughtful before he ends up just squeezing her arm lightly where his hand rests. ]
Remember that it hurt like a fucking bitch, if I'm honest. Legs. Something about my legs. And the asshole showed up, but- That's about all I've got.
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No... no, she doesn't think so.
He apologizes and it feels honest, unlike the others. They're close and she just stops to recall what he said about perception - in that moment she swears she feels a pulse against his wrist. ]
I guess we're even then. [ About the death part. ] Getting a message to you guys was important and I wasn't sure it would end up with - uhm... that display.
[ You know, dead reanimating only to die again was a hell of a thing. He starts talking about his death in response and she nods, wincing a bit awkwardly. ]
The pieces are put together more during the trial... I didn't know anything about who - ... who killed me. [ She found out later it was her own trusting nature that earned her death. She doesn't blame anyone. Not even Jack. ] Don't think too much about it. You'll hurt yourself.
[ Maybe it's just her? When she recalled it, her head hurt so much and very much discouraged her from trying to piece things together sooner. He's physical and honestly? Elizabeth had been denied that kind of attention her entire life. She'll be selfish and allow it to happen. To feel a human who shows concern for her instead of treating her like some specimen. She's aware of the irony in that... ]
Why is it that... I always feel like there's so much to tell you...? It's like a flood of words begging to get out and I never know where to start. Ugh.
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[ His tone is light, but it's not quite dismissive. He's deflecting that concern, though this time it's not necessarily because he finds it being given disorienting. Perhaps he's a bit used to that from Elizabeth now, but it also could just be that in dying, it does seem a bit more reasonable to him. Though as such, he doesn't want it to weigh too heavily on him. Death isn't the end, not for him, he thinks. So accepting any kind of pity for it might validate it in a way he doesn't want.
He's surprised when she speaks of wanting to talk, enough to breathe out a small laugh. He wonders just what could be on her mind so much to beat him to that, because he really feels like his is probably more... Something. He's not sure what it's more of, but it's something heavy, and it's also something that effectively brought them together and drove them apart equally. Realizing that latter part especially, his hug does lessen, but he doesn't step away from her completely as he withdraws. His hand remains on her arm like a comforting weight. ]
Yeah I- Well, kinda feel the same way, actually. I've got something I want-- Well, something I need to tell you. Talk about? Shit, I don't know. But—
[ He waves his other hand dismissively, since the stumbling over his words here is coming from some anxiety around getting to that. ]
Well, when you don't know where to start, I figure just start at what comes to mind first. Always works out well enough for me. [ This is terrible advice, though, considering Jack's proclivity to just speak without a filter... ]
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[ Elizabeth was far from the naive girl she was when she entered. Jack could see it - that's why he didn't doubt her threats. Something had changed - a chemical compound between self-pity and empowerment. There's so many variables to take into consideration on how Elizabeth ends up here, but there's no time for it. Even with the infinite expanse of ticking seconds, she can't think of how she could come to the conclusion.
There's something to be said about their talks - about how they push each other's buttons and beliefs to the edge, but - no. He speaks and she instead tugs his hand downward. Her knees don't buckle, but instead she just... encourages him to sit down. Right in front of her cabin. In front of the abundance of flowers that line in patches on the cobblestone path. It's less complex this way. As she kneels down, she looks at him in the same way she did when he taught her programming - with no ill-intent. ]
...I don't want to kill you anymore. [ She says almost as if she lost a battle. ] Not because I don't think I can but - ... it won't fix what had happened to me. What Comstock did to me. When I died, I thought there would be heaven or hell - a divine judgment for my sins and virtues. There's not... there's just time to think and so -
[ She looks around, as if the flowers had almost multiplied. It's lush and full - a cabin akin to a girl like Elizabeth. ]
We disagree on so much but ... [ Her hand drags to his, clutching it tightly. Rhys had been broken because of this man but she can't help but feel that there's a connection. Maybe that's why Rhys had so adamantly tried to make her see? ] ... and some of your actions make me sick to my stomach but I - I can't. You were one of my only friends and I don't know what that says about me.
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[ He responds awkwardly at first as Elizabeth guides him to sit, since he's a bit awkward and unsure about it, but of course he ultimately acquiesces. That was part of their strange bond too, because regardless of whether he should or not, he trusted Elizabeth. He trusted her more than Jack tended to trust people, and at first, that was because of the person he had built her up in his mind to replace, but as things changed, it had instead become based in the fact that she didn't abandon him after all.
As such, her confession comes as a surprise. He had never forgotten it, because that's why being disarmed had gotten him to react so defensively. That thimble pushed into his hand was more like a whispered word, "later," because she wasn't coming to kill him yet. But the way Elizabeth confesses it confuses him. That tone in her voice speaks of loss, and in that tone, he hears a bit of something else for the first time.
How often had Angel used that kind of tone with him?
Jack makes an uncomfortable noise, and he finds he has to avert his gaze away from her at the thought of that. It could very well be from being uncomfortable that she had truly wanted to kill him, and that's at least how most would interpret it. Yet Elizabeth had gotten to know him well. She would know easily that this wasn't where that was coming from, so it had to be something else weighing on his mind there. When she grabs his hand, there's a pause of hesitation, but he grips it back tightly. ]
Y'know, it says—
[ Jack starts to explain, but it's broken with a sigh before he looks back at her. ]
Think it says that it's more than blacks and whites. Don't think-- Don't think either one of us are entirely good or entirely bad. [ It's a hint that something has changed for Jack, because for all that confidence of his about being a hero, it seems some part of that has wavered. Of course, it's not as if it's all broken, because it's easy to imagine how the realization of his own sins in their full extent would destroy Jack. But there's some part of it that's clearly shattered. He sighs, then adds: ]
I care about you, Elizabeth. That's-- Well, that's pretty clear, I think. So, yeah, obviously glad that you don't wanna kill me anymore, since, uh, that would suck. But- [ He pauses, then adds: ] Why would that say anything about you?
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I could retrograde you but I won't.
Elizabeth had been honest, even if she had her own contingencies with telling Jason to take Jack out if needed. Even if her heart was pained by this damn game, It was more than she ever experienced. Being around people - people that protected her and wanted to see her survive... Call it flattering but only Booker cared enough for her to live.
He starts speaking and she grows silent. ]
And I cared about you - I wrote you that letter and - ugh... I still do. And I'm scared. [ She feels so sad, mainly because she's just not confident enough to make her own choice. Her experiences are so narrow, her judgment so skewed. ] I'm scared that I'll regret it. That I'm forgiving when I shouldn't - but Jack...
[ Elizaberth is vulnerable, but her grasp clutches onto his. ]
I miss Jason.... I miss Luke. I miss - I missed you. I don't want to play games anymore. There's nothing left - it's just a sad thought I can't get out of my mind. Killing you wouldn't have changed a damn thing about anything and my thoughts about Angel... I still feel that way... I'm conflicted and I can't explain why.
[ but She tries to keep herself composed. Crying right now would be silly, dumb... ]
I'm rambling - I'm sorry.
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Her speaking of missing him at least gets him to smile softly, even if it's distant, and he looks her way. However, it's briefly, because when she mentions Angel, Jack pulls his hand away to run it through his hair. It's not quite intentional, but there's an anxiety at the mention that he expresses through physical gestures, as he always does. He's bursting to tell her, but he just as much doesn't want to. It's opening up that part of himself that he wants to keep hidden so desperately. ]
No- No, it's not rambling, Liz. It's-- Yeah, I mean, whatever kinda friendship we got? It's pretty friggin' weird.
[ There's a pause, and Jack sighs rather heavily, even tiredly before he looks back to her. It seems like he's changing the subject in how abrupt it is, but the reason for it will quickly become clear. ]
Hey... The alien queen, the eye shit or whatever— Did you see that?
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It's a ball of emotions that she's trying to firmly grasp. He pulls away and she is taken aback, feeling as if she was wrong but no - she's not wrong about Angel. Out of all of this, that one thing is clear and if she was to take him from her? She would feel no guilt if it saved another girl from captivity.
But, no. This is just them. Not Angel, not Comstock - Elizabeth focuses back to that. ]
That much is certain... [ SHE JUST!! FEELS LIKE HIS KEEPER!! In the same way she takes responsibility for caring with Rhys, Elizabeth weighs that damn burden harshly. ] But - um... I heard of it. The monitors were full of people watching and I haven't been able to really drag myself there...
[ She wants so badly to bring up Rhys, but as she nervously looks over her shoulder to the path that leads to the forests and beaches... ]
You stopped her from bringing the ship in, but did something happen?
[ Oh boy, did something happen! ]
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He half wants to reach out to hold her hand again, as if that would help him to explain this, but-- Something about that feels wrong now. The very fact that it feels wrong is what gets him to start speaking. ]
Liz— That thing? It-- I don't know. It's hard to explain, 'cause it was like the same kinda shit Alice did to me. One second, you're yourself, the next, you're... It's like watching from a stage. You're seeing a scene play out before you. You're seeing it like, like you weren't a part of it at all? I—
[ He runs his hand through his hair, but his head bows forward slightly with the motion. It's almost like he's hiding his face from her. ]
Look, I- I actually always wanted to be a dad. Which, yeah, I know, friggin' weird for guy like me, ha ha, heard it a million times. But y- y'see, my family was shit. Never knew my dad, mom dumped me off with grandma, and you and every-goddamn-one saw what grandma was like. So always thought if I had a kid of my own, I'd never treat them the way my family did me. God, I— [ He laughs, but even at this point, it's clear to hear the pain in his voice as he rambles. ] The day Angel was born... That was the happiest day of my life. I'd never felt that kind of immediate love, and I don't think anyone but a parent can. Just looking at her face, I knew I'd do anything to make sure she'd be happy.
[ He sighs out a heavy breath, but it's shaky as his head dips further into his hand. ]
That's... That was the problem, I guess.
[ With that, Elizabeth might get a sense of what point Jack is meandering towards, and as such, it's clear why he's taking such a winding path to get to it. ]
Because— [ Jack laughs, but it edges on unhinged, though the laugh itself is soft and distant. ] Because it was-- It must have been how you felt, kiddo. When you heard Rhys saying all of that? When you heard me explain? I watched, god, I watched everything I, I'd done to Angel, but it wasn't... I always knew what I was doing, but this time, it was like I was a stranger. Just seeing things for what they were. It's why my wife, why you, why everyone—
[ He gets more frantic as he continues, but he breaks off abruptly with the beginning of another syllable, but it's because as he tries to explain, he remembers one part in particular. Every justification he had could be built back up in the face of what the Queen had shown him, surely, because it was still true that perhaps people didn't understand. But the reason he couldn't was just one small event in particular. It was just a little girl crying as she clung to her father, asking when she could go home. Jack had remembered how his heart ached as it did every time Angel cried, how he embraced her warmly to comfort her, and how she hugged him in return with her small arms when he'd soothed her.
But as a stranger, without his ego, he realized it for what it was. "This is your home now, baby," he'd said, and for the first time, he'd seen the fear on Angel's face. She'd never complained. She never tried to defy him. Because just as he had been of his grandmother, she was afraid. She'd always been afraid. But he'd never been able to see it, because every justification was something so neat and so perfect that surely, he hadn't become what he feared the most.
He starts again, but his voice is thick by now. ]
You—
[ Jack looks up at Elizabeth with a smile, but it's not the kind of smile that seems to suit Jack's unwavering confidence in himself. It's not just sadness on his face, but from his expression alone, the reason he'd wanted to tell Elizabeth this at all is clear. It's not the sadness of grieving for his daughter. It's the despair of understanding that what he had done to her was wrong. ]
You were right, Elizabeth. You were always right, but I— I couldn't see it.
[ At this point, there's another surprise, because tears start to spill over from his glassy eyes, but this time, he makes no effort to hide it. He's not sure why, really. He doesn't have to share any of this with Elizabeth. It truly wasn't as if he would find any solace or comfort in it. But perhaps... Perhaps part of him is hoping that by telling her, he can convey what he can no longer express to his daughter. ]
She's not just dead because of me. She— God, I never gave her the chance to live in the first place.
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Her eyes become darty, nervous when he begins to talk. There's bits and pieces she remembers from the execution - her execution - the river and the people drowning the alien that inhabited her. It strains her mind when she thinks too much of it, hot flashes of clarity despite not experiencing her own death. That creature had become part of her against her own command and she insists that's the last thing they will ever share - that memory, even as it flickers. His words remind her of that and she has to wonder - was that how he felt too?
Elizabeth grows still, deathly. He can see her hands clasped on her lap, her finger idly rolling the thimble against her pinky. He speaks reflective, his words more sorrowful than she had anticipated. Even if he covers it well, she picks up on it quickly. ]
Jack -
[ She starts, but he keeps going. Every word falls more of a surprise than the last. She doesn't feel good about hearing "You were right". It makes her heart sink and her breath leave in one fell swoop. It's a lot to weigh in - she never thought he'd read her words... hear her in ways that her voice ever could. But, he did. Somehow, even if it was under someone else, this humility hits him.
His last lines echo with her. Mainly because she wonders - would Comstock ever feel that way about h- no. She stops herself. This was Jack. This wasn't him. This wasn't Comstock and she has to repeatedly think that. Stop the train before it even leaves the station. Elizabeth sees him react in such a vulnerable way that it scares her. Hesitantly, her hand raise up and he feels the brush of cold steel but the warmth of her four other fingers. Just as he had showed her this moment weeks ago, she pushes away the tears on his face. ]
This is... this is your repentance, Jack.
[ Those words hold so much weight. She doesn't feel bad for him or hold pity. She lets him react, cleaning up after his mess like she always seemed to do now. She scoots closer, her grasp on his cheek and jaw growing a bit more tighter - not out of anger, but seriousness. ]
This is what I was telling you about. It wasn't some fear I hoped to instill in you... Come here.
[ Look, this is where she pulls him into a hug for once. Her hand shoots up to hold at the back of his neck, lifting her body a bit more in a maternal way, ironically enough. ]
Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.
[ She whispers to herself, reciting part of the Bible she was taught to fear - to follow devotedly. As she shows this gesture, she feels her breath quicken - a choked sob of her own as she shuts her eyes tightly. ]
You can't undo it, but you see... you finally see.
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It's not for any malicious reason, but it's not as if the truth of why is much better. It's the sort of painful humanity that makes Jack so complicated a person for people to deal with. There's so much madness and unforgivable evil in who he is, and truly, it's beyond anyone's ability to drag him out of that. But there are glimmers like this where the man he was shines through like a false hope that he could appear again. It would be easier if Jack didn't want to ever share this again because withholding that information was manipulative. Instead, it's simply genuinely agonizing for him to do so.
As soon as Elizabeth accepts his words in some way, that's almost like some kind of sign he almost seemed to be waiting for. Her hand comes up to his face, and Jack is quick to grab her wrist, but it's not quite to pull her hand away. There's a light tremor in his hand, shaky because of whatever he's still trying to hold back here, but he still closes his eyes under her touch all the same. He's vulnerable in a way that he lets very, very few people see, but for better or for worse—
He trusts Elizabeth with this. ]
Liz, I-
[ He starts to interrupt, because it's rare for him to not get a word in, but that seriousness inherent in her grip quiets him. His eyes stay shut for a few moments as she speaks, and his expression twists up into some reflection of whatever complicated, messy emotions he's feeling, but it doesn't last long. His eyes open again as she pulls him closer, but he hesitates briefly at how she holds him. It strikes him as strange, backwards, because he so badly wanted to be the one providing this sort of comfort. It always made him feel good when people relied on him so, but he never quite allowed the opposite for himself. In truth, no one could quite handle shouldering Jack's sins, since they were far too numerous and so, so many were beyond his view in the first place. But for this one?
He listens to her verse, and talk of wrath and anger are when he clings back. Maybe that's just a coincidence, or maybe he understands himself well enough to know that it was these two things that twisted him up so much worse than other emotions. His wrath would cover Pandora in fire for the slights of a few, and his anger would leave innocent people dead whose only crime was standing against him. And to those, he was still blind. Yet even so, Jack returns the embrace. His arms wrap around Elizabeth so tightly that it might almost make it hard to breathe, because he's strong, but he's clinging to her with a desperation as if she were some sort of anchor for what he was feeling.
And that was-- Still complicated to him. It's muddy and confusing in a way that's difficult for him to parse through, because even if he feels such guilt and pain over what he'd done, there's still that one part of him whispering about a dissonance. It wasn't truly him, so maybe he had no right to be upset about this in the first place, but that disconnect is something he hides from even more than most of his illusions about himself. So, it probably doesn't matter, he decides. The pain he feels is real enough, and while he doesn't express the sort of raw, open grief that he had when he had read her letter, it's still here in some capacity.
Jack holds her for a long time, probably as long as she'll let him without it being weird. He's quiet, not saying hardly anything at all, but there is at least one thing said just softly enough for her (or perhaps not her at all) to hear: ]
I'm so sorry.
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Things weren't simple anymore. This complexity and intricacy of her relationship with Jack pains her in ways that she can't explain. She was ready to drive a knife through his heart and feel his blood drip against her hands. She was ready to smother him in his sleep. She was ready to channel all of her pain and suffering into one moment where she accepts her morality - to allow temptation and sin to consume her.
Elizabeth abandoned that hope. She knows that's... not the way. She can't. As Jack plays his vulnerability truthfully, feeling his guilt consume him in the same way she wanted him too. She's satisfied. Selfishly, knowing that she'll never hear Comstock in this way. Jack wasn't Comstock (she knows this now), but it'll do. ]
Thank you.
[ Was all she says, allowing him to hold her as she held him. It's an intense, physical moment. More physical than she had ever experienced. It's raw, it's enigmatic, and it's intense. Emotions were dripping between them and all Elizabeth knew was that she wanted to feel this moment - feel him truly come to terms with his own pain as she accepted hers as well.
It had to be a good five minutes of her stroking at the back of his head and neck, beginning to cry on her own accord as well. As if this moment was so delicious and so prized it brought the tears to her eyes. Elizabeth was a good girl, she thought once upon a time, but now? It scares her. Her justification of seeing him express himself like this...
...Did she impact him this much or did the truth? ]
It'll be alright.