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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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[ 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.