TITLE: TILL DEATH DO US PART...part 1
TITLE: TILL DEATH DO US PART...part 1
AUTHOR: VNapier
PAIRING: Ennis/Jack
RATING: R - NC17
FEEDBACK: Always. E mail me at BBMFAN@ZOOMINTERNET.NET
DISCLAIMERS: Standard disclaimers. The characters are not mine, but the story is.
SUMMARY: This is a sequel to 'If Anyone Can Show Just Cause, Speak Now...'.
That story can be found on my livejournal at http://vln-bbmfan.livejournal.com
The small table between the two beds was overflowing with empty beer bottles and an ashtray that was just as overflowing with mashed cigarette butts. After a quick trip to the nearest liquor store, Ennis del Mar had disappeared from the world, smoking and drinking and trying his best to stop thinking about a blue-eyed rodeo fuck up who loved him.
'I love you so fuckin much, Cowboy.'
The now familiar *pop* of the cap coming off yet another bottle of beer echoed in the empty room. The amber liquid was cold going down, but its flavor was lost in a haze of confusion and anger. Was he trying to wash away words that should never have been written, or was he trying to drown the pain of knowing they were written in his heart, as well as on the crumpled piece of paper that had long since been hurled across the room in a fit of rage.
'Ain't goin' nowhere, Cowboy. I swear.'
"Fuckin' liar," Ennis grumbled, not for the first time, but always with the same result. The fist of regret over the unfair accusation twisted his gut until the pain was so bad he could taste the bile in his throat as his stomach threatened to rebel against the steady diet of beer and misery.
'I'm sorry for bein gone.'
"Sorry ain't 'nough, Jack Fuckin' Twist," Ennis gasped loudly, but the fight left him under a fresh wave of guilt and fear. The bottle in his hand was tilted up to his lips, and a good bit of the contents were emptied before the bottle was slammed down on the one vacant corner of the beside table.
Ennis struggled his way off the bed and stumbled across the room, sinking to his knees as if he were paying penance at a sacred shrine. Shaky hands retrieved Jack's letter, and fingers that felt numb very carefully undid the damage done by his frustration. It took a few minutes, but the letter was wrinkled, but intact, when he finally finished. His eyes filled with tears as he looked down at the blue-ink scrawl and read the words for only the second time.
Ennis,
I'm sorry for bein gone. I know I swore I wouldn't leave you but I didn't have no choice Bud. The fucking army got me.
Heres the title to my truck. Don't figure its got much time left before it falls apart, not another couple a years no how. I'll feel better knowin you got it and you ain't stranded. Didn't figure I'd be needing any cash in the war neither, so I paid up the room for the rest of the month and half a Feb. Rich (thats the name a the old man that runs the office) said if you left before then that he would give you some money back.
I'll send a card or maybe a letter or something whenever I can. Elmer said it would be okay to sent it to his address for you. Let him know where yer goin if ya decide to move on. I guess I'm hopin that you don't hate me so much for leaving that you don't want to hear from me no more. I'm hoping for that real bad. Real damn bad, Ennis.
Ain't gonna matter much I guess because I know yer gonna hate me for telling you the rest of what I got to say here, but I'd be hating myself even more if I didn't. Maybe if I make it back alive you can be able to forgive me for telling you I love you. I love you so fuckin much, Cowboy. So fuckin much. I'm so fuckin scared
Jack
Ennis closed his eyes against the pain. It had been bearable when there were no words to make it real, but now there were words saying what he still couldn't believe was true. Jack loved him. Jack, a man, loved him, another man.
Or was Jack just fooling himself? Was he just scared of being sent off to war, of being shot dead in some foreign land across the sea? The way Jack had been getting all quiet lately, acting like he didn't want to be around Ennis...well, would he have been acting that way if he was feeling real love?
Sitting back on his heels, he let the battle rage in his mind, while his heart could accept nothing less than those precious words in blue - 'I love you so fuckin much.'
*** *** *** ***
Ennis woke at sunrise, on the floor, and in the same clothes he had been wearing since the morning he left Kansas with his hopes so high. His mouth tasted like his tongue was made of cotton, and his head was throbbing like there was a herd of cattle was stampeding over his brain.
With a loud groan, he drug himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. A splash of cold water from the sink had him more awake, if not more aware of the undesirable side effects of too much booze in too short a period of time.
He had to get to the ranch, had to get the truck back to its rightful owner. He wasn't even sure what day it was, how long he had been drinking to forget, but he did know that he was late, even if it was the right day. He would be lucky if he still had a job, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.
After changing his clothes, he left the empty motel room with a heavy heart that only got heavier when he saw the rusted old black GMC parked next to the tan Chevy truck he would be returning to the Lazy D. Jack's truck. His truck. The only part of Jack he had left, and it was nothing but a bucket of bolts.
A precious bucket of bolts.
"Fuckin' stupid," he groused at himself over the sentimental thought, but his heart ached when his fingers brushed along the GMC's fender as he moved towards the door of the tan Chevy.
*** *** ***
C.C. Hickok, the foreman of the Lazy D, was standing by the corral when Ennis drove up and parked next to the barn. The man didn't look happy.
Ennis approached his boss with his hat in his hand. "Mr. Hickock."
"Ya run into some trouble, del Mar?"
"No, Sir," Ennis shook his head. "Leastways not with the bulls." The foreman, along with the most of the hands, knew where Ennis was staying. Most of them had stayed at the motel at least once in their lives, and it was almost like and old home to all of them. "Got in late, unloaded 'em, and headed back ta the motel fer the night."
"That was two days ago, Ennis."
As much as he hated talking about himself, Ennis felt he owed the man an explanation, no matter how lame it might be. "Good buddy a mine, well, got back an' found out the army got 'im. Ain't no excuse-"
"Damn, Ennis, I'm sure sorry ta hear that. Lost a couple a cowboys ta the draft a few months back. Any kind of friend would be upset 'bout news like that."
Ennis nodded, but his own sense of responsibility would not allow it, even if that same sense had abandoned him for the last two days. "Ain't no excuse fer me ta leave ya short handed, an' fer keepin' yer truck. Be more'n happy ta pay ya some kinda rent, or somethin'."
C.C. shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Ennis. You been more than good about goin' out a town on short notice, even being gone over Christmas. Truck wasn't even missed."
Never having received much in the way of praise, Ennis was uncomfortable when it did come his way. "Thank ya, Sir."
After receiving his orders for the day, Ennis headed off to the north pasture. He was grateful that he still had a job because he just didn't think he could stand to be alone in that motel room no more. He wasn't sure what he was going to do when it came to quitting time.
TBC...
AUTHOR: VNapier
PAIRING: Ennis/Jack
RATING: R - NC17
FEEDBACK: Always. E mail me at BBMFAN@ZOOMINTERNET.NET
DISCLAIMERS: Standard disclaimers. The characters are not mine, but the story is.
SUMMARY: This is a sequel to 'If Anyone Can Show Just Cause, Speak Now...'.
That story can be found on my livejournal at http://vln-bbmfan.livejournal.com
The small table between the two beds was overflowing with empty beer bottles and an ashtray that was just as overflowing with mashed cigarette butts. After a quick trip to the nearest liquor store, Ennis del Mar had disappeared from the world, smoking and drinking and trying his best to stop thinking about a blue-eyed rodeo fuck up who loved him.
'I love you so fuckin much, Cowboy.'
The now familiar *pop* of the cap coming off yet another bottle of beer echoed in the empty room. The amber liquid was cold going down, but its flavor was lost in a haze of confusion and anger. Was he trying to wash away words that should never have been written, or was he trying to drown the pain of knowing they were written in his heart, as well as on the crumpled piece of paper that had long since been hurled across the room in a fit of rage.
'Ain't goin' nowhere, Cowboy. I swear.'
"Fuckin' liar," Ennis grumbled, not for the first time, but always with the same result. The fist of regret over the unfair accusation twisted his gut until the pain was so bad he could taste the bile in his throat as his stomach threatened to rebel against the steady diet of beer and misery.
'I'm sorry for bein gone.'
"Sorry ain't 'nough, Jack Fuckin' Twist," Ennis gasped loudly, but the fight left him under a fresh wave of guilt and fear. The bottle in his hand was tilted up to his lips, and a good bit of the contents were emptied before the bottle was slammed down on the one vacant corner of the beside table.
Ennis struggled his way off the bed and stumbled across the room, sinking to his knees as if he were paying penance at a sacred shrine. Shaky hands retrieved Jack's letter, and fingers that felt numb very carefully undid the damage done by his frustration. It took a few minutes, but the letter was wrinkled, but intact, when he finally finished. His eyes filled with tears as he looked down at the blue-ink scrawl and read the words for only the second time.
Ennis,
I'm sorry for bein gone. I know I swore I wouldn't leave you but I didn't have no choice Bud. The fucking army got me.
Heres the title to my truck. Don't figure its got much time left before it falls apart, not another couple a years no how. I'll feel better knowin you got it and you ain't stranded. Didn't figure I'd be needing any cash in the war neither, so I paid up the room for the rest of the month and half a Feb. Rich (thats the name a the old man that runs the office) said if you left before then that he would give you some money back.
I'll send a card or maybe a letter or something whenever I can. Elmer said it would be okay to sent it to his address for you. Let him know where yer goin if ya decide to move on. I guess I'm hopin that you don't hate me so much for leaving that you don't want to hear from me no more. I'm hoping for that real bad. Real damn bad, Ennis.
Ain't gonna matter much I guess because I know yer gonna hate me for telling you the rest of what I got to say here, but I'd be hating myself even more if I didn't. Maybe if I make it back alive you can be able to forgive me for telling you I love you. I love you so fuckin much, Cowboy. So fuckin much. I'm so fuckin scared
Jack
Ennis closed his eyes against the pain. It had been bearable when there were no words to make it real, but now there were words saying what he still couldn't believe was true. Jack loved him. Jack, a man, loved him, another man.
Or was Jack just fooling himself? Was he just scared of being sent off to war, of being shot dead in some foreign land across the sea? The way Jack had been getting all quiet lately, acting like he didn't want to be around Ennis...well, would he have been acting that way if he was feeling real love?
Sitting back on his heels, he let the battle rage in his mind, while his heart could accept nothing less than those precious words in blue - 'I love you so fuckin much.'
*** *** *** ***
Ennis woke at sunrise, on the floor, and in the same clothes he had been wearing since the morning he left Kansas with his hopes so high. His mouth tasted like his tongue was made of cotton, and his head was throbbing like there was a herd of cattle was stampeding over his brain.
With a loud groan, he drug himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. A splash of cold water from the sink had him more awake, if not more aware of the undesirable side effects of too much booze in too short a period of time.
He had to get to the ranch, had to get the truck back to its rightful owner. He wasn't even sure what day it was, how long he had been drinking to forget, but he did know that he was late, even if it was the right day. He would be lucky if he still had a job, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.
After changing his clothes, he left the empty motel room with a heavy heart that only got heavier when he saw the rusted old black GMC parked next to the tan Chevy truck he would be returning to the Lazy D. Jack's truck. His truck. The only part of Jack he had left, and it was nothing but a bucket of bolts.
A precious bucket of bolts.
"Fuckin' stupid," he groused at himself over the sentimental thought, but his heart ached when his fingers brushed along the GMC's fender as he moved towards the door of the tan Chevy.
*** *** ***
C.C. Hickok, the foreman of the Lazy D, was standing by the corral when Ennis drove up and parked next to the barn. The man didn't look happy.
Ennis approached his boss with his hat in his hand. "Mr. Hickock."
"Ya run into some trouble, del Mar?"
"No, Sir," Ennis shook his head. "Leastways not with the bulls." The foreman, along with the most of the hands, knew where Ennis was staying. Most of them had stayed at the motel at least once in their lives, and it was almost like and old home to all of them. "Got in late, unloaded 'em, and headed back ta the motel fer the night."
"That was two days ago, Ennis."
As much as he hated talking about himself, Ennis felt he owed the man an explanation, no matter how lame it might be. "Good buddy a mine, well, got back an' found out the army got 'im. Ain't no excuse-"
"Damn, Ennis, I'm sure sorry ta hear that. Lost a couple a cowboys ta the draft a few months back. Any kind of friend would be upset 'bout news like that."
Ennis nodded, but his own sense of responsibility would not allow it, even if that same sense had abandoned him for the last two days. "Ain't no excuse fer me ta leave ya short handed, an' fer keepin' yer truck. Be more'n happy ta pay ya some kinda rent, or somethin'."
C.C. shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Ennis. You been more than good about goin' out a town on short notice, even being gone over Christmas. Truck wasn't even missed."
Never having received much in the way of praise, Ennis was uncomfortable when it did come his way. "Thank ya, Sir."
After receiving his orders for the day, Ennis headed off to the north pasture. He was grateful that he still had a job because he just didn't think he could stand to be alone in that motel room no more. He wasn't sure what he was going to do when it came to quitting time.
TBC...