Echoes of the Past Ch. 2

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Jack let the news sink in. Bobby was stunned at that.

Finally, he croaked out, "W-what?"

"I died..." Jack was crying. "I...I was president. I had gone to Texas but then I was killed in an open car. Jackie...she tried to save me..." He was a sobbing mess.

It clicked in Bobby's mind. "You... Jackie's your wife, isn't she?"

"Yes." Jack nodded weakly. "Jackie," he whimpered.

"I won't let it happen," Bobby said fiercely, growing loyal of his brother. "Who kills you Jack?"

"I...I don't know..." Jack cried. "I was waving my hands to the crowd and then I felt a sharp pain in my neck and I slumped onto Jackie's lap and everything went black...someone shot me in the head...." Jack was crying.

"..." Bobby was dead silent. "When did this happen?"

"November 22, 1963." Jack responded.

"You have twenty years to live?" Bobby gasped. "I won't let it happen," he growled.

Jack buried his face into his hands and began to cry. "I sent a letter to Jackie. She hasn't responded."

"Who's is that?" Bobby peered at the letter sitting on the desk that Jack had been writing to Ethel.

"Your wife," Jack replied.

Bobby started jumping up and down. "Can I see? Can I see?"

"It's not finished. Don't mind me I'm telling her the future and how happy it'll be," Jack replied dryly.

"Tell me about my future," Bobby said a little too loudly.

"Sh!" Jack hissed, looking alarmed. "I'll tell you. Just shut up and don't tell anyone."

Bobby nodded. He sat down.

Jack told him, but he told Bobby to not tell anyone. Jack told him of Camelot, his presidency for short, and Bobby was excited. Jack spoke of his failure in the Cuban crisis. Bobby grew to hate them for it. He wished now that the Soviet Union would be crushed, Bobby said.

Jack also spoke of the stroke Joe would get and the slight brush of losing in the 1960 election. Bobby was mostly fascinated by that as Jack told him that.

After Bobby promised not to tell anyone, they both worked on the card together. Bobby made sure to paint himself in the best possible light. When Jack was done, he signed his "presidential name" at the bottom and Bobby followed with his cursive handwriting.

Jack mailed it. He knew it would take a few days for both of the ladies to respond. He didn't like that though. He wanted to meet Jackie now.

Bobby and Jack went downstairs to find something to eat. Jack no longer was annoyed at his brother, thinking he was a runt or a weakling.

He's my brother, Jack thought, of course I'll protect him. He still felt like crying.

Jack wiped his eyes as Kick came in. "Hey, Jacko. Hey Bobert." She smiled casually as she sat down with some coffee. Jack avoided her gaze and left the room.

Kick turned to Bobby. "What's with him?"

"No idea," Bobby replied.

Jack stormed into his room; locking the door. A few seconds later, he was crying into the pillow.

He felt homesick. He wanted out. He wanted to go back. Back to the White House. That was his home, not this place. And he missed...he missed Jackie.

Jack passed out from crying. He could only think of Jackie and no one else. His destiny laid with hers.

He felt guilty. He imagined how sad and terrifying it must have been when Jackie returned back to the White House and confront John Jr. about it. Jack's eyes swelled up with tears.

I promised Junior I would be there for his birthday... Jack thought, muffling his tears. I promised him! He wiped his eyes.

Jack was a mess. He felt homesick, he missed Jackie, Caroline, and John and he was trapped in the past, with no way of connecting to them. If Jackie didn't believe him; he'd have to wait ten years to get in touch with her.

I will find you, Jackie, Jack thought looking out the window into the cloudy sky. It was getting ready to rain. I will find you. It's a promise I'm willing to keep.

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