04-15-2018, 04:50 PM
I ain't done yet.
Jacob had run the words through his head over and over the last three days. The pain, the memories, the neverending assaults upon his body and mind as Cain and his helpers tried their very best to pry something, anything from him. The same four words, interspersed with the faces and names of the people he was saying them for. Etney, Vic, Locksley, Flint, Tempest, Mal.
I ain't done yet. They still need me.
The mantra had turned into a shout of victory when Jerrod had finally come to his rescue, and he'd kept it up as the fight between them and Cain had commenced.
Only for them to get cut off when the paladin's sword pierced his chest.
Oh no.
His legs lost their strength as the blade retracted, the only thing holding him up. His body struck against the hard floor of the cell, the pain of the impact deadened in comparison to the agony of his chest. That too, all too quickly began to dim, and a slow, inexorable numbness began to claim him. Jacob tried to say something, to protest, but all that came out of his mouth was blood and a soft wheeze.
I can't die here. They need me. They love me. I can't leave them.
His body ignored his attempts to move. It was done. He was done.
Images, the same ones that had floated through his mind over the days of torture came to him, so clear he wasn't sure if it they were the product of his mind or his failing eyes.
Etney, the first time he ever saw her, him and Mal standing side by side, watching the young woman with hair red as autumn leaves and a strength in her that couldn't be quantified or denied talk to the old man. Years later, him holding her hand as she screamed and breathed as Vic came into the world, ignoring the pain of her far stronger grip as it fastened like a vice onto his hand.
It took me days to get my hand to close right again.
He would have chuckled at that, if he'd had the breath.
And the last time the two had spoken. The last time. Older, harder in some ways, but always still Etney. Still able to laugh, refusing to be diminished by the injustices she fought. Still the woman he loved. Since the day he first saw her, since the first introduction.
I'm sorry I never told you. But you and Mal...and...after he died...I wasn't going to ask you to do for less. You always deserved better.
Ad Locksley. Visiting him and Vic, angry, and hurt and far, far too good at hiding it. Watching her and Vic playing, him hoping that they'd find some understanding in each other, that maybe they'd help each other far better than he ever could. Years later, her storming away from him, betrayed again. Him seeing that mask come down again as she bid him farewell, and him hating himself, Etney, and everyone who'd lied to her. Who'd made that mask for her, and showed her why she had to put it on. Him talking to her in her tent, trying to undo the damage he and others had done to her, to get her to see herself the way he saw her.
To show her she didn't need the mask.
Never did do right by you. I tried, but didn't know how. You deserve better than what the world's given you, and that includes me.
And Vic. His Bandit. There were too many moments. Him watching from the doorway as Etney slept, holding her like nothing in the world could take her away. Her a few months shy of turning nine, tucked into bed and asking him for another story about her ma and pa. Her asking him why he wasn't ever the hero of the stories, and promising to tell him a few where he got to save the day. A few months later, and helpless as she cried cause he was the only family she had on her birthday. Too many moments, too many fears, and doubts, and joys, and wishes, and too much pride to ever express in words. All for her.
And a deep, aching hurt when he realized that he would never see her again. Would never see her fall in love for the first time, never see her reconcile with her mother, meet her uncle and cousin, never get to apologize for running off again, never get to tell her another story, never get to call her Bandit again. Never get to tell her he loved her again.
Jacob couldn't tell if he was crying or not. He couldn't feel anything anymore, and his vision had dimmed so the fight happening in front of him was just a shadow play.
I'm not even going to get to give you the things I brought from Zodia. I hope you like them.
I'm so sorry. I don't want to leave like this.
I ain't done yet.
Jacob heard a voice, cutting in clearly amid the dull noise of Jerrod and Cain's battle.
Mal. Telling him to come along, that it was safe wherever he was.
He tried to speak again. To tell his brother. But again it was just blood, more than last time, and a wheeze.
I can't. It ain't safe here, and they're still here. I can't leave them. They need me. They love me, in spite of everything. I ain't important, but they are, and they need me. I can't go Mal. I just can't.
It should have been me that went. You were always better, less stubborn, less reckless, you always knew what to say. But it wasn't me, and...and I can't go. Please. I don't want to go. Don't make me go.
There was no reply. Jacob tried one more time to get the words out, hoping desperately that something, someone would hear. But the words didn't come, there was no reply, and as the breath pushed out of his lungs, Jacob knew. The stillness and darkness took hold, and any fight he had left in him went away.
I love you all. I'm sorry.
I'm done.