#i got sick from my niece's 3rd birthday party ;n;

[dragonsongmakhali]

I'm so so excited to do the little profile thing I've been tagged in ;v; it'll help me finish writing up the LFRP I've been putting off for a year |D

[pagesoflauren]

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Chapter 18

Chapter 17 Masterlist

Oxton held an eerie air for Jack. Saying he hadn’t been home in years was an understatement. He had never thought he’d ever come back.

It was Y/N’s idea to try to find his family, maybe invite them to the wedding. Jack told her the likeliness of finding them was slim; he had no connections to them after he left.

The streets are just as he remembers them, though they’re all been paved over with concrete instead of remaining the same cobblestone paths he used to walk. Many of the store fronts had been remodeled to look more modern, though the interiors look the same from what he can see through the windows. He points out different buildings and what they were, who owned them or lived in them; little anecdotes about the town he once called home.

“And…this is my street. My house is there,” he says, pointing to a small house at the corner of a crossroad.

“You think anybody’s still there?”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, “or maybe they knew my family. People don’t really move around here.”

They yield to cars slowly passing by and move to the side at the sounds of bike bells ringing.

“Can’t do it,” Jack mumbles, hand shaking at his side. Y/N knocks her knuckles against the door; metal now, though Jack remembers when it was wood.

A man in his mid-40s answers. “May I help you?”

Y/N looks quickly at Jack, answering for him when he doesn’t say anything. “Hi,” she begins, introducing herself, “and this is my fiancé, Jack. Jack Lowden.”

“Jack Lowden?” the man repeats astoundedly, closing the door slightly. Jack can make out his figure looking at something on the wall before he reopens the door. “Jack Andrew Lowden? Born 1850? Son of Jacqui and Gordon I?”

“The first?” Jack echoes, “Nobody was named after him.”

“Yes, they were,” the man smiles, holding out his hand, “I’m Gordon Lowden IV. I’m your great-great-great grandnephew.”

Jack and Y/N were welcomed in with sounds of excitement, people instantly recognizing his face. It had been nailed in the hallway leading to the door, per his parents’ request so that they’d be able to recognize him if he ever came back.

Jack met Gordon’s family: his wife, Michelle, and his children, Rachel, Max and Hannah. A dinner invitation was immediately sent out and almost everyone invited was accepted. People had been eager to meet him since hearing about the vampire in the family, though they had always been told to not keep their hopes up. Now he was there, in the flesh, and it was just like meeting Y/N’s little cousins all over again; lots of questions about how he lives as a vampire, why he doesn’t talk like Dracula and whether or not he turns into a bat. Y/N found some friends in his great-great-great-great nieces and nephews around her age.

They make it a point to mention the wedding, telling them the ballpark dates to keep clear if they can.

“It’s kind of why we’re here,” Y/N explains, “I feel like he should have some of his family there, even if he doesn’t know them. But, we’re so happy for have been welcomed by you. He’s so happy.”

“Well, I’m sure his parents would’ve been happy to see him,” Gordon III says, “Papa always said they were looking for him.”

“Were they?”

“Yes. That’s why his picture is there, so that if and when he came back, whoever answered the door would be able to recognize him. It was the only way I got the house, and the only way Gordon got the house from me.”

Y/N glances at her fiancé, the man who believed his parents hated him, talking animatedly with his distant relatives, some that were around his age. He politely sips on a beer, smiling and laughing with them as they all share stories. He winks are her and she waves, pocketing the information his great-great grandnephew had given her to tell him later.

They leave with promises to return the next day for lunch, with the “aunts” coordinating plans for a dinner party at a restaurant back in Edinburgh, where Jack and Y/N were staying.

That night, Y/N lays in bed fiddling with Jack’s fingers as her eyes droop.

“Great uncle Gordon III told me his father said your parents were looking for you.”

Jack scoffs somewhat bitterly. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“What does he have to gain by lying about that, Jack?”

He looks thoughtful before shrugging, feeling ashamed he’d even think that.

“I think we should visit the cemetery tomorrow. Pay our respects. Only if you want.”

He thinks for a moment, before he nods.

“We should get white lilies. Those were mum’s favorite.”

“Here it is,” Gordon says as he opens the gate to the mausoleum. Y/N grabs Jack’s hand with her free hand, her other arm cradling the bouquets of lilies they had bought before coming here.

Jack had been there before; he’d visited his own grandparents in the marble building. Their graves hadn’t been moved, cemented into the wall permanently. He blindly reaches behind him and Y/N knows what he’s asking for, placing the flowers his in hand as she steps back to let him pay his respects.

She begins looking around, calculating ages and trying to construct a family tree in her mind. When she looks at him, his eyes are darting from name to name, recognizing all his relatives that he had grown up with, some of those who were still small kids when he left. The lilies fall out of his hand and it looks like his knees are buckling.

“Jack,” Y/N says gently, “Jack, do you want to sit down?”

He doesn’t look at her. His eyes are fixated on the two graves next to each other. He does manage to nod, sinking to the marble bench as Y/N holds his arm in an attempt to support him.

Y/N sits next to him, ready to retract her arm but remaining pliant to Jack when he grabs at her hands.

“Need…need you here. Need you close,” he breathes, voice shaky as he takes it all in.

“Okay.”

She listens as he tells her who’s who, adding little anecdotes about them.

“There’s…there’s James, he was only a boy when I left and now—“

He chokes on his words, sobbing as all the feelings of loss wash over him like a tidal wave. All the memories he never made, the birthdays he missed and the weddings he should’ve been there for, they were all gone in a puff of smoke the minute his parents turned him away.

Y/N brings him into her chest, cradling him as he lets out a cry of anguish. Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries to comfort him, though she’s overcome with a sense of empathy, her own tears spilling over her eyelids.

He calms down after a long while, sobs dwindling down to sniffles as Y/N kisses his forehead. He closes his eyes appreciatively when she kisses his cheek and nudges her nose into his neck.

He squeezes her hand before getting up, slowly getting up to pay his respects to his parents. He gathers the remaining lilies in his hands, laying two across the graves. He wipes his tears again when a marble tile on the wall catches his attention.

Jack Andrew Lowden Beloved Son and Friend 1850 —

There’s a piece of yellowing paper wedged between the tile and the wall. Jack carefully pries it out, unfolding it with shaky hands. He recognizes his father’s handwriting.

December 3rd, 1918

My dear son, my Jack,

I do not know the chances that you will find this. I know you may feel spited after what your mother and I did, after what we said to do. We saw your name in the newspaper. There was an article about immortals fighting alongside mortal men in the war. We rejoiced in knowing you were still alive, and hoped to find you. Regrettably, your mother took ill. It was the White Plague. I feel as though I will not be able to live much longer without her.

I want you to know that your mother and I love you very much. We missed you every day after you left; you took parts of our hearts and we much regretted turning you away. We are so sorry. I will not expect forgiveness from you, whether you come in person or you read this letter, whenever that may be.

I hope to see you again, my son. I know I may not meet you in the next life. Should you decide to move on from this world, please know your mother and I will be waiting eagerly to meet you.

His signature curls at the bottom of the page. Jack folds the piece of paper and turns around to look at his fiancee.

“Will you hold onto this for me?”

“Yes,” she says, beginning to unzip her purse.

“Please, you have to keep it safe.”

“I will.”

Jack watches her delicately hold the letter in her hands, stashing it away in her wallet.

As they walk back to the front gates of the cemetery, Jack stops at a familiar grave, seeing flashes of memories: carrying the coffin on his shoulder, tears falling down his face as he said his final goodbyes, kissing a freshly bloomed pink rose before tossing it into the grave. His chest feels heavy with emotion.

Y/N comes to stand next to him, taking his hand and reading the name on the grave.

Alice Margaret Hamilton Daughter of Henry and Margaret Hamilton Sister of Ronald, Maisie and Benjamin 1852-1868

“Who was she?”

Jack heaves a sigh before quietly responding, “She was my girlfriend.”

Y/N does the math to calculate her age. She was two years younger than Jack, passing away when she was only sixteen.

“What-what happened?”

“Cholera. I wasn’t allowed to see her until she passed. We wrote so many letters to her, my parents and I. I was so sure I’d marry her, but she was sick.”

“I’m…I’m so sorry, Jack,” she says, her eyes blurring with tears.

“That’s why I worry so much for you. I just don’t want you to get sick.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything, tears falling as she takes one of the remaining lilies and laying it on her grave. She feels grief for what was lost: dreams and hopes of a young girl. She cries for the heartbreak Jack must’ve felt, her own heart hurting. She’s not bitter, there’s no room for that.

Jack presses kisses to her face and wipes her tears with his thumb, holding her as he cries himself.

After composing themselves and continuing the rest of the way out of the cemetery, Jack chuckles.

“You know,” he starts, squeezing her hand so she’ll look at him, “you look like her a bit.”

Y/N smiles. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

tagging: @albionscastle