Entry tags:
using the stars as guides
who jack + isaac
what insomnia and... going places...
rating probably no more than PG
warnings Whale Noises? Feels? Adorables? Men questioning their sanity?
[It's late.
Jack lies awake next to Isaac, looking at him in the darkness, wishing he could sleep.
Not too long ago, he could. He was sleeping just fine, hardly any dreams or anything. Just a nice long night of refreshing slumber.
But ever since he woke up with scars on his neck and his vocal chords mangled so that the only sounds he can make are inhuman moans... well. He's gone back to square one.
Square one being frequent nightmares and nights of complete sleeplessness.
Tonight he just can't sleep at all. He's tried. He's tried too many times. He's tried with his head on Isaac's chest, listening to his heartbeat and the slow rhythm of his breaths, he's tried with his arms wrapped around him and his face buried in his hair, he's tried lying without touching him at all.
None of it works. Every time he closes his eyes the abyss, echoing with the cacophonous symphony of Rapture, reaches through his mind to grasp his consciousness and he has to shake himself back to reality with a gasp.
There'll be no sleep for him tonight.
So he watches Isaac sleep, the man's face turned toward him so that their noses are a mere centimeter away from each other, his breath tickling Jack's face. Jack reaches up and runs a finger along Isaac's jawline, then turns his head to look out the window. The curtain is open, revealing a cold winter night outside. There's no cloud in the sky, and the stars and moon shine crisply against the black backdrop of sky, the freezing air making the silver shapes sparkle like they never do in summer.
Jack turns his head back to Isaac.
Maybe a walk would help.
But he doesn't want to go alone.
...but he doesn't want to interrupt Isaac's sleep.
He sighs slightly and puts his hand on Isaac's arm, shaking it ever so gently.
Wake up, Isaac.]
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Home.
They're home.
As he pulls off his coat and the rest of the winter clothing, he drapes it over the couch and walks over to Jack, gently settling a hand on his back. ]
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For a moment he just looks at Isaac in the darkness, then he steps forward to close the distance and wraps his arms around him, hugging him tightly and burying his face in Isaac's shoulder.
Home is good, Isaac is better. But Jack still can't shake the haunting feeling of being inhuman, being monstrous, being other that's settled deep inside.]
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Nice to be home, huh?
[ He squeezes Jack tightly for a moment in the hug. ]
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...it's not that he's anxious, he just has dark thoughts. He'll sleep, most likely, but it won't be peaceful. He can tell.
But he sighs and lets go, taking off his scarf and kicking off his boots.]
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Sleep won't be easy for Jack, but he'll be there if it gets rough. ]
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He takes off his clothes, not particularly caring where they land. He'll clean it up tomorrow. For now, he just climbs into bed, pulling the blankets up and looking for Isaac.]
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Sliding under the blankets he shifts, curling an arm around Jack just slightly, pulling him close. ]
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He's exhausted, but the events of the night can't be forgotten, even with Isaac's arm around him. Still, he can feel his body falling asleep even as his mind whispers.
In the end, he's not sure which is worse, the insomnia or the nightmares.]
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Jack has had nightmares before, Isaac has had his own fair share, so he knows when Jack is dreaming and when those dreams are not so pleasant. Fingers in his hair, there's nothing to do but wait. ]
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They walk by windows out on the ocean, and he sees his reflection. He's a Big Daddy.
Of course he is.
And then there's Frank Fontaine, speaking like Atlas, speaking like himself, oscillating between voices as he shouts at him.
You can't go back, boyo! Not from something like this!
And then Andrew Ryan...
You were my greatest disappointment.
And then Tenenbaum, looking so sad...
What have we done... what have we done?
And they speak together and apart and they repeat themselves and their words weave together in a frightening cacophony and he can't listen to it, he's fallen to the floor and his head is so heavy, so heavy, and the Little Sister is standing by him, crying, Mr. B! Mr. B! and he can't get up to help her, he can only moan, a sound that makes its way out of his throat, a low groan that shakes him, but he can't wake up, he can't lift himself off the ground, he's sinking, sinking, and the voices are bearing down on him, burying him.]
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He turns a bit, keeping Jack in his one arm as he presses closer. ]
Jack...
[ He speaks softly... because maybe he can rouse him without completely startling him awake. ]
Jack, it's not real...
[ Whatever it is--it isn't real right now. ]
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But there's man standing over him with a gun, staring down at him, and he doesn't have a face but he knows who he is.
It's Jack.
It's himself.
But it's not him because he's the Big Daddy, he's the monster, the sad pathetic thing created only to protect the Little Sister but failing even to do that.
And there's a man over Jack's shoulder, it's Atlas, and he's whispering in his ear and he can see the way his mouth moves and the words he's saying even if he can't hear it...
Would you kindly kill that son of a bitch...
And Andrew Ryan is standing over his other shoulder, asking the same question he always asks, has always asked, ARE YOU A MAN, OR A SLAVE?
He's neither.
And Jack's raising his gun...]
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Jack.
[ It's louder this time, a bit more ferocious as he tries to rouse him. ]
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His thoughts are scattered, meaningless, he's in Rapture, he's here, he's with the Little Sister, he's with Isaac.]
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His hand splays against his back, presses.
It's okay. It's okay, you're here. ]
--Just us. You're right here, Jack.
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He's with Isaac. Just Isaac. No one else. No Atlas, no Fontaine, no Tenenbaum, no Litte Sisters, and no Big Daddies.
Just Isaac, and himself. Whoever he is.
And Isaac's holding him and for a moment it's just too much, all of it, the nightmare, the insomnia, everything, and Jack clutches at Isaac and his breaths take on that desperate quality that's a sure sign he's trying not to cry.]
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Isaac just presses closer. ]
Go on...
[ Don't keep it in like that. He lets his thumb run the line of Jack's cheek, foreheads close. ]
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There, that's it.
Isaac continues stroking, feels the damp against the pad of his thumb. Wipes the tears away every so often. Jack doesn't need this--he doesn't need these nightmares. He kisses him softly on the cheek, just underneath his eye. ]
Won't let anything hurt you...
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As the tears slow however, Jack feels Isaac's hand on his back, his thumb on his cheek, and he opens his eyes, blinking at him slightly. He holds Isaac like he'll disappear if he doesn't, and right now it almost seems like it's possible.]
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[ He speaks in a hushed tone, as if a sound any louder could bring the nightmares back. His gaze is soft, the kind that is calm like the eye of a storm. He moves his hand slowly up and down between Jack's shoulders, keeping close. ]
M' right here--not going anywhere.
[ He presses his lips to his forehead, lets the kiss linger until it is just a touch. ]
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But for now, Jack will take it. He'll take anything he can get, and he nods and sighs and wishes all of this could just go away, leave his head completely.]
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Remember what I told you?
[ He leans in slightly, lets his lips brush Jack's ear. ]
You're a man, Jack. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You're a man and you're your own man.
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Exhale.
Breathe.
He listens to Isaac's words, shuts his eyes so he can concentrate on every syllable.
He's a man. His own man. He makes his own choices. He's not a slave, not a monster, he's a man.
He repeats it to himself. Over and over.
With his arms wrapped around Isaac he presses his cheek into his shoulder, breathing him in, feeling his hand on his back and repeating his words in his head.
He's a man. His own man. He makes his own choices. He's not a slave, not a monster, he's a man.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Breathe.]
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There is a sense of helplessness in all of it as he closes his eyes, keeps Jack as safe and close as he can.
I'm here, I'm here--nothing's going to hurt you. ]
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