traveling home again; home again to you
Jackunzel Week Day 7↣
“Yours is the light by which my spirit is born: you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”
(no date)
Dear Punz,
I’m so, so sorry, Rapunzel.
A lot of things have happened and there is no letter I can write long enough to tell you what I’ve been doing so just hold off until I get there. They’ve rescued us and I am being sent home. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back—gee, I have done my duty to the country and now they tell me I can rest.
I am having this written from a hospital in England and I hope this will get to you before I do, but even if it doesn’t—well we’ll be together at last. Finally: I’m coming back to you sweetheart. Just wait for me a little bit longer. I hope you’ll still have me then.
Be seeing you soon, Jack
-- WARNING: there’s an implication of torture a little past this point. It’s small so if it doesn’t bother you, please go ahead reading. Just making sure! --
Rapunzel paused her brushstrokes, sighing.
She looked out of the window—it was a cloudy day, the sky a murky color that reflected her mood entirely. It had been a month more since she’d sent that last letter, and there had still been no reply. She was coming close to storming into the volunteering office and demanding to know what had happened to the man she missed the most, but she stopped herself every time, choosing instead to take her frustration out on canvas.
She looked at the painting before her, unfinished, like the others: a pale face half in shadow, with dark brown hair and fine features, eyes closed and mouth turned up at the corners. It was the way she remembered him, the very last expression he had shown her before he left almost a year ago.
Her studio was littered with small paintings of Jack’s features—flashes of his smile and hands, his shoulders and his bare feet—she had trouble doing a proper one of his whole figure, mostly due to the fact that the simple thought of his entirety sent a sharp pain lancing through her chest. Painting the small details was the only way to keep her heart in check.
For the umpteenth time, she wondered where he was. The lack of response only added to her fraying nerves, and each waking thought was plagued with nightmares of his body, shot beyond recognition, or him bound by the enemy, tortured and beaten within every inch of his life. She refused to believe it was possible—if Jack were dead, she would feel it bone-deep. He was alive somewhere, and he would come back for her.
It didn’t help that her mother’s health had deteriorated into a comatose state, which brought Rapunzel mixed feelings. On one hand, she was devastated that the only parental figure she had ever known was close to being gone from her completely; but on the other, she was relieved that the burdens of responsibility that Gothel had forced upon her would be gone. The confusion of it all had her stomach in knots, and though she preferred not to think about it, the thoughts came unbidden, just like the memories that she had of Jack’s departure.
Looking down at the painting before her, she realized it had been marred by trembling strokes; dark slashes the shade of a deep blue concentrated on only one point on canvas. She hurried to even out the coloring, but paused again—
There was a knock on the door.
Rapunzel’s brow furrowed. She had no friends who would visit without prior notice (not that she had many that she was close to, anyway) and Gothel was at the hospital. There were no paintings commissioned that hadn’t been picked up yet, the school was out for the summer, and she had gone to the market earlier that day, so there were no more goods to be delivered to her doorstep.
She sighed again, setting her paintbrush down and slowly making her way through the foyer, limbs lethargic and unfocused from the exhaustion of the past few weeks. There was another insistent knock on the door before she finally pulled it open.
“…Anna?”
The blonde was standing on the stoop, fist raised to knock again, her eyes wide with something like apprehension. She looked shaken, like she’d seen a ghost, and Rapunzel spared a moment to feel her insides clench in concern for her friend. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Rapunzel, it’s—I don’t know how to tell you, but—I mean, I heard it while passing by the sweets shop, because the Thorston twins had just been reunited—oh dear, I really don’t know how to put it…”
Anna was wringing her hands together, biting her lip in consternation. This was not a familiar expression on her, as Rapunzel was used to her easygoing smiles and cheerful attitude. She laid a hand on the troubled girl’s shoulder, shaking her a little.
“It’s okay, Anna, breathe. Come on, you can tell me whatever it is,” Rapunzel told her, smiling encouragingly.
“Right, sorry.” The other girl took a deep breath, and blurted out, “Your Jack—I think he’s been sent home! They’re all in the hospital right now, all the ones who’ve come back, and—Rapunzel?”
She couldn’t breathe. If Jack had returned, then why hadn’t he come to see her immediately? She looked up at Anna, her expression mirroring the other’s hopeful one. She rushed back into the house to grab her coat and shoes—she preferred to walk barefoot inside—and tripped out the door, locking it in her wake. Anna followed her quick, sure steps, jabbering excitedly.
All Rapunzel could think about was that she was minutes away from seeing his blue eyes again. Only minutes away till she could hug him, and kiss him, and—it was freeing, this feeling of relief. After months of waiting, he had kept his promise and come back to her. She smiled as she hurried down the street, to where the tram station that took her to her place of work was.
“Sorry, Anna, I’m going to go ahead if that’s alright?” she said, turning to say goodbye to her friend.
Anna paused, grinning. “Of course! I’ll see you next week for tea, yeah?” She waved, shooing the other girl off. “Go on and see him!”
“Thank you!” Rapunzel called back, stepping into a tram that had just arrived at the station.
Once she got a seat, however, reality sunk in and she bit her lip, her hand pressed against her chest to calm her suddenly stuttering heartbeat. There was a flurry of worst-case scenarios swirling into her thoughts and she had to admit to herself that she was—dare she admit it—scared. She realized that there was still that distinct possibility that Jack hadn’t yet returned; after all, Anna had only heard talk of some soldiers returning, but no specifics. What if he wasn’t one of those sent home?
In the next ten minutes of the ride, she wondered what to do or say if that was the case, and she worked herself up into a mess of tangled emotions by the time she got down at the stop nearest the hospital.
I can say I’m visiting Mother if he’s not there, she told herself with a heavy heart, walking at an immeasurably slow pace to put off the eventual decision.
As soon as she entered the doors, however, her fears were partly assuaged by the sight of one of the elderly nurses she knew, smiling at her arrival, albeit sadly. Her breath caught and she opened her mouth, poised to ask what was wrong and which room he was in, but the other woman spoke before she could.
“Room 16, dear,” she said, nodding in its direction, the pity in her eyes showing clear as day. “Private room for now—there are some… complications. No, no, don’t worry,” the older woman hurried to add, “he’s still alive, at least.”
At least. He was still alive at least? Rapunzel hurried through the hallway that his room was in, fearing the worst. What if, like her mother, he was comatose? What if he had been shot and couldn’t recover? What if he was alive… and didn’t remember her?
With growing apprehension, she stopped in from of Room 16, turning the knob carefully.
She was greeted by a dim room, the walls a light grey, or just a dirtied white. It was sparsely furnished, as all hospitals were, with only a lampshade and bed in the far corner of the room. There was an unmoving lump on the latter, which, as she walked closer, looked like a body under the white sheets. She felt lightheaded, stopping right beside it, as she reached out and nudged the lump slightly.
“Jack?” she whispered, almost fearful.
There was a tiny murmur from underneath, and the body moved to lie on its back, causing the blanket to fall back, away from his head. His hair, which used to be a rich, dark brown, was now exposed to have become a brilliant shock of white. Rapunzel gasped, taking a loud step back in surprise.
Immediately, Jack—for it was him, albeit looking tired, worn, and with the hair that made him look much older than his twenty-one years—sat up, opening cold blue eyes, his hand shooting out to grip her arm painfully.
“Who are you?” he demanded, grip tightening.
Rapunzel bit her lip and just barely managed to stop herself from crying out. “Jack—Jack, it’s me; it’s Rapunzel.” She sucked in a breath, fearing the worst again. “Don’t you recognize me?”
He dropped her arm as if stung, eyes widening in surprise. “Punz?” He reached for her again, but paused, looking a little to her side. He continued, voice going quiet, “Is that really you?” He seemed smaller than he used to be; frailer, the skin around his wrists pulled tight over bone.
“Oh, Jack,” she sighed, flinging her arms around him and letting him bury his face against neck, breathing in the smell of antiseptic that surrounded his person. This was better than she’d hoped—he was alive, and despite being a little worse for wear, he was well.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his hands clenching and unclenching against her coat. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.” Rapunzel realized, belatedly, that he was crying: silent tears that he probably didn’t mean for her to see, much less hear.
She pulled back a little, pushing his hair away from his forehead and wiping underneath his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, that’s all I wanted.”
The man nodded, his eyes unfocused and still staring a little off to the side, not quite meeting her eyes. His cheek was mottled purple and there was a bruise on his cheek; she was certain that if he hadn’t been wearing a shirt with long sleeves, that the marks would cover his arms and chest as well. When he moved to the side, he winced, and his lips were split, swollen and still had a bit of dry blood on them. She looked down at his hands, and the tips were raw, his fingernails missing. Something was wrong.
“Jack?” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping her hands in his. His body followed the movement, face tight as he turned to her direction. In spite of this, his eyes remained trained on a spot near her ear. “What’s happened? Why—why won’t you look at me?”
His face crumpled, eyes darting across her face in search of—
It dawned on her then, making her gasp and pull away from him, hands flying up to cover her mouth opening in horror. Jack fidgeted at the loss of contact, running his hand over his face and through his hair in agitation. There were a few minutes of silence as the Rapunzel processed the truth she couldn’t deny in front of her.
“Ah,” he said finally, sighing. “Dammit, Punz. You always notice.”
She could hear the pain in his voice, the discomfort evident on his face. Before he’d left, he was always careful to keep his emotions in check around her; or rather, he was always careful to be always smiling in her presence, in an effort to make her smile back, always. Now he could be read like an open book, all feelings on display for her to see. It made her chest ache with something akin to loss for his sake.
“I—I’m blind, yeah,” he continued, looking away, but not before she saw the flash of hurt in his sightless eyes. He seemed to curl into himself before her, a shadow of the man she once knew. “Look, I understand if you want to go—wouldn’t do any good to stay with someone who can’t even see you.” He was frowning, wincing again as his forehead crinkled.
All at once, all she could feel was an immense sadness. He was hurting, more than she would ever feel, because he’d lost more than his sight. He’d lost friends, colleagues, and mentors. The war had changed him irreversibly, and it had left a visible mark on him that she needed to accept. He’d lost parts of his life doing his duty and he needed her support more than ever.
“No, Jack,” she said, toeing off her loafers in order to draw her feet up on the bed, reaching for him again. “I’m not leaving; please don’t ever think that.”
Carefully, she took hold of his hands, pulling him gently towards her till they were leaning against the headboard, her touch leading him to rest against her shoulder. In that moment, she was his source of strength and it buoyed him to reach up and twine their fingers together, tugging a little till she leaned towards him and kissed him on the forehead.
Jack fell asleep that way, comforted in the arms of the girl who stayed.
It doesn’t matter. He’s come home to me, was Rapunzel’s last thought before she, too, nodded off to sleep.
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Notes:
Hello! We’ve finally come to the end of this verse. I’m really, really grateful to everyone who’s supported and read this and basically bore with me while I suffered intense writer’s block just before I was meant to write this chapter (which is why it’s late huhu I’m sorry). So, readers, thank you.
That being said, I feel the need to clarify a few things:
First, that Jack is blind. Yes, there’s an explanation--basically, he was caught in enemy fire and was captured for about a month and a half. This was why he wasn’t replying to Punz’s letters from the last chapter. I’m planning on writing maybe a short drabble in which Jack explains how it happened, but it might be posted for a while yet :(
Second, that he has white hair, when earlier in the fic, I’d mentioned that he had dark hair. This is because of the same reason as the first. There’s a condition called the Marie Antoinette Syndrome, which is when one’s hair suddenly turns white due to extreme stress. Well, being captured (and tortured) does that to you, in Jack’s case.
Third, the sudden change in writing format. I thought it would be best if their reunion wasn’t told through a letter to someone (probably Merida) because it would’ve missed a lot of emotional details.
That’s everything, I think! If you ever have any questions, please shoot me an ask. Additionally, my eternal gratitude, devotion, and love to Jophi, my ever-patient beta, and Gail (she’s the one you should blame for fully blind!Jack yup HAHA). Without these two, this would never have been finished!
P.S. The title is from Travelin’ Home by Vera Lynn.
