Returning Emotions

[Pengzilla]

For those who are bothered, I have actually finished this fic. Yes, I didn't think I'd see the day either. I've just seen that it's been exactly a year today since I last updated, which I find funny and really bad! So after a year, I'm pretty sure very few people will know (or care) what was happening. So I'll give you a little reminder (If I can remember)

Summary

Jack shot Henry's brother. Henry then spent his time trying to get revenge, threatening him and stuff. Jack didn't tell Martha, or anyone but the police for that matter, and it was all exposed when Henry made a big act in a car-park with a number of hostages - one of those hostages coincidentally being Martha. Jack agreed to go with Henry if he spared Martha and the other hostages, and Jack was believed to have been killed.

But then, like a year or something later Jack returned to find Martha engaged to Eamon Cobb (the guy with the awesome name lol) and he was pretty heartbroken. But all wasn't as it seemed - Eamon is gay, and the only reason they were marrying was so that Eamon's mum doesn't have to find out he's in love with his best friend, Richard. Martha agreed to help, but now Jack's back and the wedding date was nearing it was getting tough to maintain her promise.

Henry was also back, too. He was sending threats to Jack, that Jack again hid from his loved ones and the police to spare more pain. He just wanted to live his remaining days alongside his family and friends. But people soon found out that Henry was back, to kill Jack this time, and he was begged to go in Witness Protection by the police. But he refused, until he realised he's putting Martha's life in danger too, and after a big fight on the eve of her wedding, she told him that he should go into Witness Protection. So he does, leaving notes behind for his loved ones. Martha only found this out after she calls off the wedding for him.

However, on his way to a safe, lonely life, Jack's car is rammed off the road by Henry. One of the drivers rings up the station during the attack, and Peter and everyone else are well aware that Henry has gotten to them. But before Peter can ask where they were, or track the call, the phone line dies. They crash.

Dum dum dumm.... (seemed suitable to add it )

So yea, I've written 3 more chapters - the first being pretty long. (You all missed my stupidly long chapters, admit it!) I'm still adding the finishing touches, so I'll post it up soon. It's not as I planned, because I honestly can't remember what plan I had, but I just felt I should put an ending to this obese fic, whether or not anyone reads it.

So yes, please keep an eye on this thread today and for the next following days as I update and finish it.

[Pengzilla]

Okay then, after a year, here is the promised chapter 61...

(Summary above for those who don't know )

Chapter 61

Before he’d even opened his eyes he could feel the pain throbbing all over his body. It was like a bucket full of ice-cold water had been thrown on him to wake him up, except it was grazes and broken bones and burning gashes that stirred him from his slumber.

He felt as if he was riding on a waltzer, like the ones he’d gone on at fairs when he was a child. He felt like he was being spun around senselessly, like the contents of his stomach were being thrown around and his stomach itself was up in his chest. Hot, liquid air was pushing up his throat, and there was a weakening sting at the nape of his neck as his head rolled around on his shoulders.

His mouth fell open as he gasped and choked. He tried to lift his hand but the large shooting pain down his left-side made him shiver and cower in pain. His eyes opened and the day’s light flooded his mind.

He was laid in the middle of the wreckage. He’d been dragged from the crumpled car, barely in tact with gashes decorating all the skin where his ripped clothes didn’t cover. He thought he looked like an old toy that a dog had ragged to death. Or not quite to death, so it seemed.

His eyes began to focus out of the bluey-orange tint and he could plainly see the car he’d been travelling in. After its roll it had returned back to an upright position. Only the driver could be seen from where Jack sat, and Jack wasn’t too chuffed about that. He was stained blood red, glass shards that were stuck in his cheek were glistening in the sun, and his broken arm was hanging from the shattered window.

He felt the rush of blood to his brain and the dizzy waltzer sensation come back to him as he dry-heaved and spluttered. He bent double and began to fold to the floor when he felt something push at his right shoulder, sending a stabbing pain right down his back.

He grunted and grumbled as he was dragged upright and plastered against the car once more. He could feel the rubber tyre behind him that was still hot from the race and it was burning his back. He figured Henry knew that, and that’s why he put him there. That’s why he was pushing him back onto it now.

Henry watched down with a smile as he roughly positioned Jack to lean against the car. He sneered something as he managed to settle Jack, but for Jack it was just a bunch of syllables stretched out into a sentence. Henry was crouched down in front of him, his knuckles grazing the ground and his eyes squinting in the sun. He was clad in dirty green combat trousers, and a t-shirt that was a lighter shade of green.

Jack had his eyes closed again, rolling his neck on his shoulders so that the back of his head leant on the car. He peaked out of one eye lazily, squinting as the sun stung his retina. He could see the blurs of Henry’s beard and nose, and the two dark blotches above that he was incredibly familiar with. Just peering into the pools of dingy blue used to make the bumps on the back of his neck rise.

Even in his semi-consciousness state and incredible pain Jack noticed that the skin covering the base of his neck was not covered in bumps. He felt no nervousness or fear as Henry stood above him, ringing the neck of the gun with a grubby hand. He felt nothing but motion sickness.

***********************************************

She watched Tony harass Peter for any news, but the frown Peter wore and the style in which he shook his head told her the answer was ‘no’. So she sighed heavily and swayed side to side on the rotating chair and smiled over in comfort to Beth and Mattie as they tried to calm down the worried Tony and Lucas.

She’d calmed down a bit since the news. That was actually an understatement, as she’d calmed down a lot. She’d taken the phone call rather well, and it had lifted her spirits and hopes. In contrast to everyone else, the fact that Henry had Jack hostage gave Martha more hope for seeing him again.

She saw it as the climax, the finale of the story that had to end sometime. After today, it was over for Jack and her. He’d beat Henry - because he always does, and he’d come back to Martha - because he always does. That’s why she wasn’t crying or harassing Peter for news, because she knew it would all turn out okay. It had to.

No one believed her though. Beth had said she admired her optimism and that it was always good to have hope, but it was also good to be prepared for the worst. She didn’t believe her when Martha said there was no point worrying, that he would come back for her; she just squeezed her in a hug and then asked her to sit with Tony, Lucas and Mattie in the corner. But Martha didn’t want to have to listen to them doubting Jack, so she stayed on his chair at his desk.

She sighed heavily as she turned back around to face his desk and placed her hands firmly on the surface. She spotted the ring shining on her finger, sparkling obnoxiously on her hand, unbeknownst of what harm it had caused. She plucked it off her finger and placed it on top of a pile of paperwork he’d left out. She couldn’t wait to tell him the truth behind the engagement.

As if it were staged, Eamon walked through the door of the police station. She noticed first by the clapping of his new shoes on the wooden floor which mirrored the noise she’d despised hours later in the church. She turned around on her chair to face him.

“Martha,” His voice heavy with care and sympathy as he bent down to hug her. Martha met him half way, standing up in the embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed as she took a breath of strength.

“We heard about Jack. We’re so sorry.” Richard said, putting a comforting hand on Martha’s arm. She opened her eyes and smiled gratefully at him, placing her own hand over the top of his.

“Don’t be silly, it’s not your fault.” She said, forcing a smile.

Eamon’s eyebrows knitted together. “Martha… you’re very calm for a situation like this.” He asked.

Martha shrugged, “He’s coming back. He’s done it before, so he’ll do it again.” She said, watching as Eamon and Richard exchanged concerned looks. “Sure, I was upset at first, but that was before I thought it through. It’s Jack, he always gets out of these situations.” She told them.

Eamon frowned, rubbing her shoulder affectionately. “Yea but he’s never had to deal with anyone like Henry before, has he? What if he doesn’t get through it?”

Martha bowed her head, as if thinking, and took a deep breath. She looked up with teary eyes. “He has to.”

He sighed empathetically and enveloped Martha in a hug, which she soon shrugged out of.

“Anyway, in all this drama I’ve forgotten to ask about how it went with your Mother.” She said.

Eamon, reluctant to change conversation from Martha’s worrying state of denial, gave a deep sigh before answering. “Umm, not well. She’s not talking to me anymore,” He bobbed his head to the side, “but I’ll just have to wait for her to come around to the idea. It’s not like I’m without family or friends anyway, I still have you here and after nearly getting married, I think we can class ourselves as family.” He smiled, squeezing her shoulders.

Martha laughed. “Yea, you are family. I’d love you to stick around, and I bet you and Jack will get on really well now that you’re not marrying me.” She giggled alone.

Eamon glanced at Richard worryingly, and then rested his lips on top of Martha’s head.

“Mmhmm.” He hummed, kissing her lightly and wrapping his arms around her again.

*************************************

Jack was feeling a little more “with it” now. About 26 minutes had passed since the ultimate collision, and he could now make sense of everything. Henry was back with a vengeance, rather cheesed off that Jack had escaped and that he still hadn’t paid for his brother’s death. And Jack still wasn’t frightened about what Henry was going to do with that gun he held so proudly in his hand.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t actually done anything with the gun yet. He’d just stood watching him for about 10 minutes without making a movement or a sound; he just merely stared at him like he was some exhibit in a museum.

“So... are you going to kill me, or have you finally grown a conscience?” Jack managed to say with a raspy voice.

Henry smirked lazily. “I’m just enjoying the view.” His smile faded and his stare turned more menacing. “My brother would have loved this.”

Jack tried to swallow. “Oh yes that’s right - your brother. He’s what this is all about… I’d forgotten.”

Henry looked irritated. “You’d forgotten?”

Jack nodded stiffly, his lids blinking heavily. “Mmhmm. I thought this was about you and control.”

“Do I need to remind you of how you shot my brother cold dead?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Oh please do. I love that story.” He uttered sarcastically.

Henry’s eyebrows rose in surprise as his arm with the gun fell to his side.

“You’re not scared of me anymore, are you Holden?” He said in wonder. “That’s a pretty stupid idea, because although I’ve taken it easy on you so far, I am going to kill you this time.” He promised darkly.

Jack chuckled dryly. “Exactly.”

Henry’s eyebrows knitted together. “What?”

“All you can do is kill me. Why would I be scared of that? You could keep me alive like last time, but you’ve got no use for me now. So you’re going to kill me, and then it’ll all be over. Why should I be afraid of it?” Jack laughed again. “In fact, I’m quite pleased it’ll all be over.”

Jack took a deep breath and seemed to settle against the concrete a little harder. He heard what he’d just said playback in his ears, and he found himself to be comforted by it. It was the first time he wasn’t scared for a long time. It felt good.

Henry’s breath caught in his throat as he stared down at Jack. He had this small content smile on his face that he desperately wanted to rip off; but how? His skin was stinging as if he’d been bitten a thousand times as he thought of his failure. It had been a game between Jack and Henry’s brother for years, like cat and mouse, and when Jack shot his brother everyone had thought the battle was over and his brother had lost. That defeat turned Henry’s bones brittle and he vowed to get revenge for his brother. At first he’d done it successfully, cruelly torturing Jack as he watched all life drain from Jack’s face and spirit in the few months he prized him to friends and other criminals. But then Jack had escaped and gotten his life back and seemed to be winning again – until now. Henry had been sloppy and so he’d decided to just get it over and done with now, finish this tournament and crown himself winner before Jack stole it back from underneath him. He’d dreamt of the day where Jack would be grovelling mercifully at his feet and apologising for shooting his only brother; but that dream had just vanished. All of Henry’s effort was in vein, and he was about to lose it all. Though he was going to kill Jack, Jack was basically forfeiting. And that just made him winner by default.

Henry’s rubber sole dug into the gravel as he gritted his teeth.

“Then you’re a fool.” He spat.

Jack smirked. “You’re just narked that I’m not begging for my life. Well, sorry Henry, but that’s not going to happen. You can have my life – but it isn’t going to bring your brother back.”

Henry growled as he kicked at the floor, twisting around on the spot while looking at the stormy sky above. Large mists of black were looming, setting Henry and Jack in the shade and in the cold. They could feel the promise of rain in the thick air.

Henry returned to face Jack, his gun lowered now that he wasn’t so eager. His menacing stare softened though, as a sly grin curled his straight, dry lips. He had an idea.

“What about Martha?”

*******************************************

Next chapter: What ideas has Henry got for Martha? Can she hold up her super-optimistic thinking? The Henry/Jack story finally ends – who comes out breathing?

[Pengzilla]

Just found this on my comp. Made me laugh. For those who are interested:

Chapter 62

Back at the station things were still very tense. Beth and Mattie had popped out briefly to get some food, and so Tony and Lucas were left sat in the corner. They were being very quiet, speaking in hushed tones, and Martha only realised why when they both simultaneously walked up to her.

“Hey Martha,” Tony said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”

Martha shrugged as she looked up at them both. “Okay.”

Tony sighed, moving around her to take another approach. He crouched down at her feet and took her hand in his, staring up at her in his fatherly manner that came so natural to him.

“He might not come back, Martha.” He told her.

She sighed heavily and shook her head.

“Why am I the only person who believes in Jack?” She asked angrily.

“That’s not true – I believe in him. But I also know how scared he was of Henry, more scared than I’ve seen him from anyone. Jack is not one to run away from a fight, especially when it comes to the law, yet this time he ran. He was going to go into Witness Protection to get away. We have to think about why he’d do that, why he’d think it was his only option.”

Martha’s eyes filled up in both frustration and anger, this time toward herself.

“That was because of me, because I asked him to go.” She said, “We were arguing and I was angry so I just said it, I didn’t mean it. Then I found the letter…” Her words ended when she found difficulty in talking. Her head bowed and Tony felt a tear land his hand that had settled on her lap.

“We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment. Jack understands that.” He told her.

Martha snivelled. “He left because of me, and now Henry’s got to him.” She said, raising her head. “So he has to be okay. He has to come back because if he doesn’t, and it’s my fault, I…” Her wet lips hung open as her teary eyes landed on Tony’s. “I don’t know what I’ll do.” She cried weakly.

Tony rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb as he gazed empathetically up to her. He watched as her head fell down and rested on his shoulder, and he leant his head on hers as his other hand stroked her back. Lucas brought him a chair, and that is where they sat together in silence, only few short words being shared between them as they prayed quietly for their son and lover to come back safe.

******************************************

Jack’s veins turned to ice and his stomach swelled in the hot air.

“She’s got nothing to do with it.” He dismissed quickly.

“She’s got everything to do with it.” He sneered, “You killed someone I loved, so I’ll do the same to you!”

“But I won’t even be alive to know.” Jack argued.

“Or save her.” Henry added darkly.

Jack’s pulse rose and throbbed in his throat.

“If you even think about touching her-”

“You’ll do what? Come back from the dead?” Henry chuckled.

Jack’s mouth opened, but only panting came out. He could feel the hairs rise on the back of his neck. Henry was right. He could do nothing if he were dead.

“I’ll kill you first and then get Martha. Bring her here; show her how weak you really are, and then I’ll make her stare into the barrel of the gun as I shoot her.”

Jack’s breathing was getting louder and heavier and he was feeling very dizzy. He couldn’t stop picturing different ways in how he’d shoot her, how she’d cry and shake; how she’d fall.

“Well… I might let her live for a while more. I’ll let her think that if she does me a favour or two I’ll let her go.” He smirked again. “You wouldn’t believe the things women will do if you put their life in danger.” He commented.

Jack lunged forward with all of his strength and grabbed at Henry, like a rag doll that had been thrown from a pram; but he was no match for Henry and he soon fell back down at Henry’s feet after a swift kick.

“Nuh-uh Jacky. That’s not going to help now is it?” Henry sung triumphantly, stepping out of Jack’s reach and watching as he weakly retreated to the car. He slumped against it, a little beside the burning hot tyre this time and put his hands behind him for support. His heavy breathing and tense body was draining his energy, and after his pitiful attack he was barely able to stay conscious. His burns and cuts felt aflame and the heat was making his stomach bubble. He slipped down again and felt his hands reach further behind him for support. But the hand behind the wheel found something other than support.

It was if Jack had had an energy burst without the energy. He suddenly felt full of life in a tired sort of way. He had hope, though he appeared to be faced with inevitable death.

And his hope was metal and smooth and fully loaded.

It must have fallen from Jack’s car in the collision and rolled under Henry’s car. He could feel with his fingertips that it was the sort of gun he and his fellow officers would carry around with them. And there was also this unmistakeable heaviness that let him know it was ready to shoot.

He glanced up to Henry, praying that he hadn’t seen a flash of what was now enclosed in Jack’s hand. It seemed he hadn’t, as he was still staring with a smug look on his face and a gun pointed toward Jack’s head.

“It’s just a shame you won’t be here to see it.” He said.

Jack’s finger wrapped around the trigger as the gun maintained its position around the back of the tyre. His hands were shaking and he could hear the gentle clattering of the gun against the ground. His muscles were fidgeting and tensing and he was right on the edge of whipping out the gun and shooting Henry before he got chance to shoot first; but he knew better. He had to give Henry a chance.

“Henry, don’t do this. This isn’t going to bring your brother back.” He reasoned. “Just put the gun down and I can ring the police, I’ll get you some help, I’ll get you a lighter sentence.” Jack bargained.

Henry cackled, his eyebrows rising as if Jack were crazy. “I don’t need help; I just need justice. The law won’t do it, so I’m taking it into my own hands. I’m going to kill the man who killed my brother, and then do the one thing you’d hate – Martha.” He sneered at his sick comment as he leant into the gun.

After that, there wasn’t much weariness in Jack’s actions as he whipped the gun from behind the tyre and aimed toward Henry. His actions were so smooth and quick that Henry barely had time to think. He noticed a flicker of panic and disbelief in Henry’s expression before Jack’s mind was stained with the look on Henry’s face as he faced the incoming bullet. There was something unbearable about the familiarity of Henry’s eyes to his brothers, the same look they gave when they absolutely knew their game was over, and Jack couldn’t watch the life be taken from them again.

So he let himself slide to the ground, below the fumes of Henry’s grumbling car and closer to the forming puddles of rain that was now hitting them from the breaking clouds above. He watched wordlessly and motionlessly as the rain washed Henry’s blood away, leaving his cooling skin wet and innocent in the middle of the wreckage he’d made.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see someone running up, a woman with an umbrella and a mobile, loudly speaking down the phone in a panic. But her words were becoming increasingly muffled with the rain and pounding ache of his body as Jack felt himself slipping below consciousness.

********************************************

Last chapter: This is it... the end. A brief look at the immediate effects of the ordeal on Jack and others, and a sneaky peek into the rest of Jack’s life. Most importantly – does it involve Martha?

P.S. - I'd like to promise I'll finish it.. but you know what I'm like.

[Pengzilla]

This is it. Le Finale. El Final. (I clearly can't speak French or.. whatever I was attempting for the second thing. )

I'm not even going to look when I started this fic.. because I'm pretty sure it's a ridiculous length of time ago. It was fun though. I know I enjoyed writing it at some time. So thanks for that everyone, I always did it for the comments. Which is kind of vain if you think about it, but you guys always tend to make me smile. I also loved to torture you with risking Jack's ass. ;) he he

Oh, and a note to the librarian who has to sort out and move this fic into the NDL - UN-LUCKY!

This is for the die-hard Jack and Martha fans that I'll never forget! If there are any of you lot left.

Chapter 63 - THE END

The first thing he saw was her. She looked beautiful, sat beside his bedside in white, her eyes full of tears and her heart full of hope. He noticed her grin as soon as his eyes could focus, but he didn’t get much chance to enjoy it. Her hands roughly grabbed his cheeks and her head ducked to his as she snatched a kiss. It was warm and sweet and desperate. Jack had barely responded by the time she ripped herself away, eager for another look at him with that brilliant smile of hers. His smile came again but this time he was laughing, which seemed to spark her giggle. Her hands were still around his face and her forehead was resting on his as she whispered to him.

“I knew you’d come back. You always come back.” She said with pride.

She looked so devoted to him and so amazing that just her gaze was taking Jack’s breath away. Everything faded, the hospital room around them and the bleeping machines, and he forgot everything but her. His hand rose to the back of her neck and he pulled her in, closing his eyes as their lips met and parted. His other, now much stronger arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her onto the bed beside him, and his hand retired to rest on her thigh as they pushed aside all their worrying and irrelevant complicated lives to just enjoy each other.

That was until the door opened.

“Martha I-” The voice stopped, as did the action of the door, when Eamon saw what was going on. He giggled a little with happiness and covered his hand with his mouth. “I’d tell you guys to get a room, but…”

Martha and Jack had parted by now and were both looking up to Eamon in very different expressions. Martha’s cheeks were a little flushed as she breathed obvious and heavy, and she didn’t even try to hide her huge grin from her best friend. Jack however looked as if he’d just had his hand caught in the cookie-jar.

“Oh dear… you haven’t explained have you.” Eamon said to Martha, nudging his head toward Jack. Martha looked back down to Jack, noting his expression and giggling.

“You’re cute.”

Eamon laughed, “Yea… he is. I wish I had a camera…”

They both giggled as Jack removed his hand from Martha’s waist and sat more upright in the bed, looking at them in confusion.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Not that he’d been in this situation before, but Jack knew that if you were to walk into a room where your wife was kissing another bloke then you’d be pretty angry. But Eamon didn’t look angry. He looked happy. Jack’s gaze automatically cascaded down to Martha’s left hand that was laid on the bed, bearing only a white mark where a ring used to be. He picked it up slowly and looked up at Martha.

“You didn’t get married?” Jack tried to hide his smile, just in case his assumption was wrong.

“Nope.” Martha grinned down at him. He turned to Eamon who was still stood at the doorway.

“I’m sorry, mate.” He felt himself say.

Eamon laughed. “No you’re not, you’re over the moon! But no worries – so am I.” And with that, he pulled Richard through the door behind him, who was also laughing. Jack noticed their linked hands immediately and he looked to them all with querying glances.

“We’re gay.” Eamon said bluntly, as if to explain everything. “Martha was just marrying me so my Mother didn’t figure it out. But we couldn’t let Martha go through with it, because-”

“I still love you.” Martha smiled down to him. “I never stopped.”

A smile began to curl from Jack’s lips as her words sunk in.

“I have no idea what’s going on…” He said with a small laugh. “But I have a feeling I should be happy.”

“Very happy.” Martha corrected.

He paused momentarily, reaching his hand to her cheek. “I love you.” He uttered before her lips crashed to his once more.

“I’ll leave you two to it then.” Eamon smiled, exiting the room.

****************************************

1 WEEK LATER

Jack walked away from the crematorium, one hand in his trouser-suit pocket and the other hand holding his car keys. He’d done this a couple more times this week, twice in uniform for his two drivers, and then a third in his own attire. He’d decided that in the time he’d known Henry he was less of a cop and more himself that he needn’t go in uniform.

It was a simple service, not of great length or popularity as he seemed to be the only person who attended. Jack didn’t go so far as to organise the funeral, but he had searched out names and numbers of Henry’s family and asked Fitzy to call them up to tell them the news. None of them were bothered though, and his father had even told Fitzy to thank the copper that shot him. Apparently his parents weren’t so proud of either of their sons.

Although Jack had every right to hate Henry for what he did and the years of his life he ruined, he didn’t. He actually felt bad for him for having no background. The more time Jack had spent with Henry the more he’d come to realise how deluded the man was. He had been raged by the need for revenge and basically devoted his whole life to it. Though Jack felt guilty for killing him, he did understand that Henry had pressed the self-destruct button years ago, and it was only a matter of time before he’d find himself killed. Unfortunately for Jack, he had to be the one to finish him off.

He’d filed a report and his badge was safe. He was now back to being a cop again and he told Martha and his family everything that they needed to know. He wasn’t going to screw up again, especially with Martha, so he’d promised to let her in on everything – even the disgusting stories about the drunken and disorderly they’d have to pick up at night.

Speaking of him and Martha- it was going great. They had returned to their relationship just where they’d left off all those months ago. In fact, last night they’d re-enacted their last date on the beach, with a blanket and a picnic basket under the stars. Martha was just as happy and surprised as the first time, in fact even more so now that it had significant meaning. Double the meaning, actually, as last night he’d chosen the moment to ask her to marry him.

He heard a wolf whistle from his left and looked up with a smile as he saw her walk over.

“Oh, I love you in a suit.” She grinned cheekily as she grabbed at his collar. “You’re going to look so cute on our wedding day!”

Jack groaned, “That’s all you’re going to talk about until our wedding isn’t it?” He said, nearing her lips.

Martha’s arms slipped around his neck. “You love it.” She smiled into the kiss.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, squeezing her tight before letting her land softly on her feet.

“Yea, I think I do.” He smiled down at her, holding her hand up closer to his face as he looked at the ring sparkling on her finger with pride. She watched him as he admired it for a moment, just like she had been doing all day. “Best thing I’ve ever bought.” He declared, letting her hand go.

“You mean it’s not that ugly green car!?” She exclaimed in mock shock.

“Ugly!? We’re leaving the church in that!” He said, holding her hand as he began to walk them back to the car.

“Err fat chance.” Martha scoffed. “As soon as you sign the wedding certificate the first thing I’m doing is booking it in for an appointment at the scrap yard.”

Jack gasped. “Over my dead body!”

“Deal.” Martha grinned. “So what are you doing now?” She asked as she stood by the passenger side door.

Jack walked around to the driver’s side and spoke to Martha over the roof of the vehicle. “Going to watch the football with Dad and Luc – do you want to join?” He asked.

“I think I’ll leave you boys to it.” She said, “But don’t forget that Eamon and Richard have invited us over for dinner.” She reminded him.

Jack smiled, ducking into the car and opening her door so she could get in. They sat down and belted up and waited for Jack to start the car. But he did nothing. He just looked over at her silently, a small smile drawn on his lips.

“If someone had told me a few months ago where I’d be...” His words fell to silence again as he watched her smile back at him and put her hand on top of his.

“I know.” She said, “I’d have cried too.” She added seriously, trying her best not to break into a grin. But when Jack began to laugh, she couldn’t help but join in. He was shaking his head and gave her the cold shoulder all the way home. When they got to the house they now shared, he got his own back on the sofa, torturing her with his tickling skills until she agreed to let the car live.

And everyone seemed to be as happy as Jack and Martha. The whole family was officially reunited and Jack could actually talk and laugh and make plans without having Henry’s pending revenge loom over him. He returned to his usual self and it didn’t go unnoticed – everyone thrived in the new, old Jack. Especially Martha. She hadn’t experienced such a great life since Henry had first appeared, and was not taking it for granted. She made sure she cherished every moment. They all did.

THE END

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