will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

He returned and set the two mugs on the coffee table his grandfather had made, and carried it over to the couch she was on. Jack promptly climbed on besides her, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his head against her shoulder.

“I’m sorry if I made you sad.” he whispers. ‘I get sad too, when I see visit her field. I know I shouldn’t. But it always happens. What’s wrong with me?”

She wrapped her arms around him in return, squeezing him gently. “It’s all right, love. I told you it’s okay…it’s only natural. You loved her is all. I think I’d be the same way if I ever lost you…” Her arms tightened even more at the thought. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it…”

Her voice was steady, betraying her emotions but she didn’t let tears fall. She stayed strong for him. “There’s nothing wrong with you, okay?”

“I just can’t help but think there is.” Jack whispered. “I s-should be over this, shouldn’t I? Things die. It’s, it’s a part of life.” he shut his eyes for a moment, resting against her, and slowly shook his head. “She was here, a-and now she’s gone, I should be all right with this…”

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“Oh, no. I’m okay, you sit.” he insists, taking the blanket from her and wraps it around himself, either way. “I won’t be long. You can turn on the TV if you want, I turned the electricity back on when I went out for the wood.” he smiles at her, before walking from the room to make the hot chocolate but also to take a moment to gather himself.

It was always hard for him to go out to Gail’s field. Why, he couldn’t understand after all these years. His parents seemed fine going out there from time to time after what had happened. But Jack… he always felt so lonely when he was out there. Was it that he felt robbed, that his sister had died? Was a part of him still mad about it happening? Was he being selfish? All these years he didn’t know. Even just now, with Katelynn besides him, he might as well have been standing there alone just like when he was eleven years old all over again.

But he made the hot chocolate, in two big mugs.

She understood that he was sad, she could see it in his eyes, but wondered how she could help him smile. She sat there, legs tucked up near her chest in front of the fire, trying to get as warm as possible.

What can I do to make him smile? To heal him of the pain?

She sighed, laying back onto the floor, hair pooled out behind her, blanket falling away as she waited for Jack to return, her face pensive.

He returned and set the two mugs on the coffee table his grandfather had made, and carried it over to the couch she was on. Jack promptly climbed on besides her, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his head against her shoulder.

“I’m sorry if I made you sad.” he whispers. ‘I get sad too, when I see visit her field. I know I shouldn’t. But it always happens. What’s wrong with me?“

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“Come on.” Jack said finally. “N-no good standing out here. The lounge will be nice and toasty now with the fire going, a-and I can make you some hot chocolate. How’s that?” he asks as he turns her around and begins to walk her back towards the house.

“Okay,” she replied quietly, giving him a small smile as she followed him inside, wrapping her arms around herself and trying to get warm.

Sure enough, the fire inside was warming her up a bit and she collected the blankets that were left behind, wrapping herself up in one and offering the other to Jack. “W-Want some help making the chocolate?”

“Oh, no. I’m okay, you sit.” he insists, taking the blanket from her and wraps it around himself, either way. “I won’t be long. You can turn on the TV if you want, I turned the electricity back on when I went out for the wood.” he smiles at her, before walking from the room to make the hot chocolate but also to take a moment to gather himself.

It was always hard for him to go out to Gail’s field. Why, he couldn’t understand after all these years. His parents seemed fine going out there from time to time after what had happened. But Jack… he always felt so lonely when he was out there. Was it that he felt robbed, that his sister had died? Was a part of him still mad about it happening? Was he being selfish? All these years he didn’t know. Even just now, with Katelynn besides him, he might as well have been standing there alone just like when he was eleven years old all over again.

But he made the hot chocolate, in two big mugs.

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

Jack has to smile for her, he just has to or he’d probably have another stupid break down. At least this time he wasn’t at Denny’s of all the places to loose it. He lifts his head too and stares skyward at the snow which, only now, begins to tumble and spin on the wind as it flies around them.

She held onto Jack tightly, she wasn’t sure for how long but she began to shiver deeply, the cold of the snow affecting her but trying not to let it show because she was trying to be here for him, trying to offer him support.

She nuzzled her face against his chest, putting a hand to her stomach gently and mind wandering, eyes slightly sad.

Little one..if you exist..you have to survive..for your daddy..okay? Don’t make him sad…please…

“Come on.” Jack said finally. “N-no good standing out here. The lounge will be nice and toasty now with the fire going, a-and I can make you some hot chocolate. How’s that?” he asks as he turns her around and begins to walk her back towards the house.

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

He held her hand as they walked outside. The snow was just beginning to gently fall, but not enough to make seeing hard to do. Jack led her out past the vegetable garden, down through a gate, into another field, towards a collection of trees whose leaves and branches were thick with snow.

“We didn’t bury her.” Jack explains as they stop in front of the trees. He knees, and begins working some snow out of the way of something. A stone? “W-we didn’t want her to be stuck in a box underground. So we had her cremated, a-and my parents had her ashes spread in this field.”

Jack shifts back and gestures to the small engraved stone that stuck out, surrounded by the white snow.

‘In loving memory of Gail Maple

Be like the wind from now until eternity.

Fly free.’

No dates, nothing to give away how old she was, nothing. To some it may seem impersonal but it said all that had to be said.

The man knelt there for a moment, before lifting a hand and roughly wiped at his eyes, trying not to cry again, before standing up and took Katelynn’s hand into his own again and breathed deeply. “It even.. works, you know? Gail. Gale. Gale wind.” he explains weakly.

She nodded slowly, squeezing his hand gently, moving forward to wrap her arms around him, pulling him in close to her. “It’s a beautiful thought for a beautiful and loved girl..” she said softly, stroking his back.

She looked up at the sky, seeing the snow falling softly around them and whispered, “Gail..you’re so loved. Your brother loves you…I’m sure you’re watching over him now..”

Jack has to smile for her, he just has to or he’d probably have another stupid break down. At least this time he wasn’t at Denny’s of all the places to loose it. He lifts his head too and stares skyward at the snow which, only now, begins to tumble and spin on the wind as it flies around them.

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“Mmm. She. She was.” Jack said, reaching out and touched the frame, doing his best not to have his voice or hand shake. But instead he looked to Katleynn. “…d-do you want to go meet her? I. I mean… not meet but… ugh. Just. Just follow me?” he asks, as he moves from the room and makes his way through to the backdoor of the house.

Katelynn followed after him, giving one last glance at the photograph before hurrying to stay close to his back, wondering if they were going to where she was buried.

She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently to offer him support, to show him it was okay and she was here.

He held her hand as they walked outside. The snow was just beginning to gently fall, but not enough to make seeing hard to do. Jack led her out past the vegetable garden, down through a gate, into another field, towards a collection of trees whose leaves and branches were thick with snow.

“We didn’t bury her.” Jack explains as they stop in front of the trees. He knees, and begins working some snow out of the way of something. A stone? “W-we didn’t want her to be stuck in a box underground. So we had her cremated, a-and my parents had her ashes spread in this field.”

Jack shifts back and gestures to the small engraved stone that stuck out, surrounded by the white snow.

‘In loving memory of Gail Maple

Be like the wind from now until eternity.

Fly free.’

No dates, nothing to give away how old she was, nothing. To some it may seem impersonal but it said all that had to be said.

The man knelt there for a moment, before lifting a hand and roughly wiped at his eyes, trying not to cry again, before standing up and took Katelynn’s hand into his own again and breathed deeply. “It even.. works, you know? Gail. Gale. Gale wind.” he explains weakly.

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“My room isn’t big enough.” Jack said, “Besides I, I’m sure they’ll be fine with it.” he said, before realizing there was a photograph still where he’d left it. Of course he’d taken some photos with him to the city but he had… somehow forgotten this one. Jack walks over to the photo that sits besides where his bed is and picks it up. “…this is Gail.”

He holds the frame out to Katelynn. It shows a baby, small, wrapped in white hospital blankets. Her skin is dark, not as dark as Bonnie’s but her hair is thick and black. She’s being held by a blue, scrawny, eleven year old Jack. The boy isn’t even looking at the photographer; he’s looking at the baby who’s small eyes are shut.

“I kept asking my parents to send it to me but they’d already left by the time I realized I forgot it.”

She looked down at the photograph, remembering their talk last time of his baby sister and her heart broke at seeing the tiny face. She traced her fingers along the smooth surface of the glass, as if trying to reassure the little boy in the photograph.

It was so heart wrenching that a tear slipped from her eye and fell onto the photo. She tried to wipe her eye discreetly, however and smiled at him. “I-I’m glad we’re here to pick it up so you can keep it close to your heart. She r-really was very c-cute…”

Even though she was sure Jack already kept her memory close. Photographs were just a nice addition for remembering lost loved ones.

Be strong..be strong for him… she chanted in her mind.

“Mmm. She. She was.” Jack said, reaching out and touched the frame, doing his best not to have his voice or hand shake. But instead he looked to Katleynn. “…d-do you want to go meet her? I. I mean… not meet but… ugh. Just. Just follow me?” he asks, as he moves from the room and makes his way through to the backdoor of the house.

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“Oh no I’m good!” he was already starting the fire the way his father taught him, before he walked through after her. “Now, I have…” he eased his backpack off carefully. “Some milk, cheese, bread and other stuff. We emptied out everything you see.” he said, opening the fridge to show it was off, and empty. He put the food in. “But there’s a market not fifteen minutes walk away that are always open every day of the year. We can pick up more from there,” he explained before taking her hand. “Let me show you the tour.”

First up was the lounge. Cozy with home sewn blankets and rugs on the sofas and chairs. There’s an old fashion television that looks like it could be twenty years old. Then the office, which was littered with books but most importantly photographs. Albums bulging with photographs from his father’s work. As well as transcripts of his mothers books that had already been printed by now. Another room, this one had paintings all over it, dusty, old paintings. Jack’s art room, it seemed.

“Okay and through here…” he shows her to a bedroom with a king sized bed. It was his parents room. His was on the other side of the house, only a single sized bed. “I think we’ll be best staying in my parents room.” he said, observing the single bed.

She blushed a bit, looking at the bed and then at Jack. “I-Is that okay? I-I mean..it was their bed…We could just stay in your room instead..”

Her heart was fluttering a bit, her mind going back to passionate embraces.

“My room isn’t big enough.” Jack said, “Besides I, I’m sure they’ll be fine with it.” he said, before realizing there was a photograph still where he’d left it. Of course he’d taken some photos with him to the city but he had… somehow forgotten this one. Jack walks over to the photo that sits besides where his bed is and picks it up. “…this is Gail.”

He holds the frame out to Katelynn. It shows a baby, small, wrapped in white hospital blankets. Her skin is dark, not as dark as Bonnie’s but her hair is thick and black. She’s being held by a blue, scrawny, eleven year old Jack. The boy isn’t even looking at the photographer; he’s looking at the baby who’s small eyes are shut.

“I kept asking my parents to send it to me but they’d already left by the time I realized I forgot it.”

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

He took her hand, and nodded. Maybe, one day, they would live here. He could still paint out here, she could do photography… be far from the busy, ugly, crazy city and just be together. Maybe they’d have a dog. Or a cat. A child? Oh God. He was thinking so far ahead as he walked her down the stairs carefully, not wanting her to slip and fall.

But it was such a beautiful dream to think of. 

Mrs. Katelynn Maple.

It sounded beautiful.

They approached the front door and Jack opened it with a key on his keychain and pulled the door open. It was all wooden floor boards and boldly painted walls inside. Photographs and paintings hung on the walls, leaving not a lot of space for anything else. 

“Let me go put the fire on!” he said as he walked back outside. He returned quickly with two logs of wood, making his way into the lounge and threw them into the fireplace.

Katelynn was busy walking through the house, admiring the pictures and furniture. She would have helped with the fire except Jack had moved too fast, leaving her there blinking after him.

The house was so cozy, despite all the dust from being left alone for so long and probably spiders hanging around, though she didn’t see any at the moment.

“Need any help?” she called over to him, setting her heavy bag down.

“Oh no I’m good!” he was already starting the fire the way his father taught him, before he walked through after her. “Now, I have…” he eased his backpack off carefully. “Some milk, cheese, bread and other stuff. We emptied out everything you see.” he said, opening the fridge to show it was off, and empty. He put the food in. “But there’s a market not fifteen minutes walk away that are always open every day of the year. We can pick up more from there,” he explained before taking her hand. “Let me show you the tour.”

First up was the lounge. Cozy with home sewn blankets and rugs on the sofas and chairs. There’s an old fashion television that looks like it could be twenty years old. Then the office, which was littered with books but most importantly photographs. Albums bulging with photographs from his father’s work. As well as transcripts of his mothers books that had already been printed by now. Another room, this one had paintings all over it, dusty, old paintings. Jack’s art room, it seemed.

“Okay and through here…” he shows her to a bedroom with a king sized bed. It was his parents room. His was on the other side of the house, only a single sized bed. “I think we’ll be best staying in my parents room.” he said, observing the single bed.

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

There was a small wooden walk way leading down the slight slope. It vanished into some thick trees and awaiting them down at the bottom of the slope was the stream Jack spoke of. Despite the cold, it was still running, she could hear it. Then there were more trees but they thinned out and revealed a nicely sized field.

And there it was. A house. Big enough for a small family. There was a thick garden under a slight blanket of snow at the back, and at the front. There were fences, empty fields, and an abandoned dog house. Despite sitting there in a field alone, the house looked… loved.

Jack approached her and stood besides her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “And there you have it. Maple Family Home.”

“Oh wow,” she gasped, her eyes taking it all in, soaking up every detail. “It’s lovely! I wish I could have lived in a house like this…”

She looked over at Jack and smiled. “Let’s go inside then and get warm then?”

He took her hand, and nodded. Maybe, one day, they would live here. He could still paint out here, she could do photography… be far from the busy, ugly, crazy city and just be together. Maybe they’d have a dog. Or a cat. A child? Oh God. He was thinking so far ahead as he walked her down the stairs carefully, not wanting her to slip and fall.

But it was such a beautiful dream to think of. 

Mrs. Katelynn Maple.

It sounded beautiful.

They approached the front door and Jack opened it with a key on his keychain and pulled the door open. It was all wooden floor boards and boldly painted walls inside. Photographs and paintings hung on the walls, leaving not a lot of space for anything else. 

“Let me go put the fire on!” he said as he walked back outside. He returned quickly with two logs of wood, making his way into the lounge and threw them into the fireplace.