Winter Jackets

Chapter 14 - The Forgiveness

When Jack started pacing up and down my room, I got really scared.

I mean, I was obviously scared when I heard what had happened to him, and when he didn't want to tell me something, but this... it scared me how angry he was.

Jack's anger scared me.

If someone had told me that six years ago, I would have laughed. Like, straight out guffawed. Jack and his fits was one of our family's biggest jokes. Aside from me wearing Jack's jackets...

Before he left, Jack rarely got angry. (I don't know about now...) And when he did, all of us would laugh at his antics so hard that he would get even angrier.

But he found it hard to stay angry - five minutes after storming up to his room because he didn't like the lunch we were served, he would come to my room asking if I wanted to play tag with him, and would only remember to be angry when I stared at him for a minute.

And then he would storm up to his room again.

Which would all make us laugh, again.

But this Jack, the changed Jack, had a different type of anger - a really, really terrifying one, scary to make anyone's knees shaky. Scary in a way that told others, 'Back off, I've seen worse than you can even imagine.' And that was what scared me the most, the message that seemed to radiate out of him.

Because what had he seen?

And why was he so angry? Was it me? Did I do or say something wrong? I only told him about The Sickness, and that it was caused by grief...oh wait, was he...?

'It was me.' Jack's voice startled me, mostly because of how it sounded. Rough and husky and whispered, as if...

Yup. He confirmed my thoughts. He blamed himself for The Sickness, not me, because I was suffering from grief! That might have made sense to him, but he shouldn't blame himself for something I was suffering from because he went to help our country!

I didn't blame him either, and I was the one suffering.

I'm not bragging, The Sickness is not something to be bragging about.

'I did this to you.' Jack, completely oblivious to my thoughts, (I have had a lot of practise in keeping a neutral face) still blamed himself, and I had to fix that.

'Jack, ' I began, but he cut me off. 'Don't say it wasn't my fault, it was. You didn't EVEN KNOW WHERE I WAS!' The second part of his sentence came out as a shout, because of all the built up frustration in him.

Well, if he wanted to play this way, then...

'YOU EVEN SENT A LETTER, JACK, I JUST NEVER SAW IT! IF YOU WANT TO POINT FINGERS HERE, THEN MAYBE BLAME --' I stopped there.

I didn't know who to blame. Was it my fault? Should I have pestered mom and dad instead of hiding in my room?

Jack finished the sentence for me, voicing out his thoughts, not mine; 'Mom'.

Now he was breathing heavily, still seething with rage.

'Mom?' I asked, incredulously. How could he blame our mom? Of all people, why our mother?

Jack moved his hand towards the handle of my door, probably to go and yell at our poor, overprotective mother.

'Jack, stop. You're being ridiculous. Why would you blame mom? Of all the people. Why not the enemy, huh? Why not the commanding officer, who took you away from us? Why not the hospital, then, for not giving you that job?

The point I'm trying to make, Jack, is that you can blame as many people as you like, even yourself, but that. is. not. going to. fix anything!'

I banged my right hand on my left palm while speaking, for emphasis, but also mostly because it was taking every inch of self control to not go and punch the wall.

While I was ranting, Jack had walked back to my bed, and now sat on the edge, his face in his hands. 'I'm sorry, Lisa, I just...' And because he was shaking so much, I thought he was going to explode, but no.

I watched, shocked, as a single tear dropped down from his palms into his hands.

And in that moment, I lost all that emotion I had against him.

Because how could I be angry at him? When he had suffered more, watching others die, being captured himself, presumably tortured, even. When he had suffered so much more than I could even imagine, I had no right to be angry at him. And I couldn't.

In that moment, I also knew why his anger had changed - because he had changed.

And last, but definitely not the least, I understood why he didn't want to tell me what happened when he was captured.

The enemy had threatened him, threatened him to find us and... I didn't even want to think of the rest.

And so, by realising all of that, I was able to forgive him.

Because I understood now.

I went over to the bed, sat next to him, hugged him from the side, and he fell into me.

'It's okay, Jack, we're all fine.' And with those words, he stopped shaking, and I held onto him.

Because I was not going to leave him.

Ever.

A/N: YES! Guys, I'm done with the longest chapter I have ever written, and I am SO proud. (Not because of the length, because of the content.)

Wait, why does Wattpad make it seem even shorter than it is? Ugh.

Anyway, please, please, please tell me what you think in the comments!

- Fox