Close Enough to Start a War (part two)
@ichlugebulletsandcornnuts knows what’s up. i know the first part had a precarious cliffhanger so here’s the resolution.
[part one]
[Part 2: Next Time I’ll Be Braver]
parr immediately hands jane a paper towel to catch the blood that leaks from her nose. jane half-smiles gratefully, before turning her attention to look upstairs.
"i can't believe people think that about her..." she trails off, then looks around at her bandmates. "about all of us."
"they're all wrong," boleyn chips in. "every single one who thinks anything like what he just said."
parr nods in agreement. "really, i'd like to know who wrote those books about us that said things like-"
she's cut off by a thump from upstairs, followed by eerie silence.
there’s a brief moment before everybody collectively understands, and then they all race up the stairs as fast as they can.
“kat?” jane calls, trying the door handle with one hand, the other still holding the tissue to her nose. “kat, can you hear me?” the door won’t open and there’s only silence from the other side. she turns to the others, eyes terrified. “the door’s locked.”
“let me,” boleyn says hurriedly, yanking a hairpin from her own hair. she twists it and pushes the end into the lock, and aragon stares at her disbelievingly.
“now’s not the time for jokes, boleyn!”
“i’m not joking,” boleyn says, not looking up. “i’d never joke when howard might be in danger.”
“you know how to pick a lock?” parr asks, and boleyn nods.
“after jane collapsed in the bathroom and we couldn’t open the door, i thought it might be something good to learn.” she twists the pin a few more times and lets out a quiet curse. “we’ll just have to hope it’s a shitty lock- there.” there’s a satisfying click as the door unlocks and boleyn takes back, looking incredibly relieved that she managed to do it.
jane throws the door open and nearly bursts into tears right there.
katherine, her darling, sweet girl, was propped against the wall, eyes half-lidded and completely slack. jane hates that she knows exactly what happened, since it had happened once before.
“kitty-kat,” she breathes, rushing over to the girl. she gently shakes her, hoping that, if she was quick enough, katherine would come back to.
unfortunately, she was incorrect, and katherine stayed out.
“i’m gonna call an ambulance,” cleves announces, grabbing her phone. jane doesn’t look up, focused on katherine.
“kitty-kat, it’s me, it’s mum.” she brings her hands up to katherine’s face and starts patting her cheeks, trying to bring her round without hitting hard enough to hurt. “can you hear me, kat? please, wake up!”
katherine remains blank and unresponsive and tears spring in jane’s eyes. “sweetheart,” she chokes out, “please, please, it’s mum. please hear me.”
parr, in an act of pity, comes over and gently pulls jane away from katherine. “she’s not nearly conscious enough, jane,” parr says quietly, attempting to be soothing.
jane struggles against her. “i can get her back!” she protests. “i know i can!”
parr reluctantly lets go.
jane immediately goes back to katherine, lightly tugging on her shoulders to lay her on her back, then taps her cheeks, lightly but desperately. if katherine woke up in the emergency room, the conversation they absolutely needed to have would be that much harder.
luckily, amazingly, jane thanks very star as katherine’s eyes slowly open, coming back to faintly focus on jane and her bloody nose.
katherine makes a confused sound before her eyes focus on the blood and she gasps. she tries to sit up suddenly but her body isn’t prepared for it and she jolts back down almost immediately.
“mum,” she croaks out, “mum, your nose-”
jane can almost see the realisation hit katherine and her face goes even paler somehow, ashen features turning horrified. she lets out a quiet whimper and closes her eyes, unable to move from the floor.
“shh, love,” jane soothes. “it’s just a bloody nose, no harm done.” she sits down, pulling katherine’s head into her lap. “what he said isn’t true,” she whispers gently. “no one will believe him.”
katherine whimpers at memory of redbridge’s words. “why wouldn’t they? he’s a professor,” she spits spitefully. “he’s the expert.”
her face suddenly screws up in worry. “what if people won’t want to hear my side of the story any more? what if they-” she sniffles quietly, “what if they don’t believe me?”
“i think you should take a look at this,” parr says quietly from behind jane. she hands jane her phone. it was open on twitter, where the hashtag for the documentary had been searched, and jane scans her eyes over the tweets.
“absolutely disgraceful documentary,” one tweet reads. “the queens were so much more than what he said.”
another says: “@stevenredbrige should be ashamed. @kathoward wasn’t to blame for anything 😡”
tweet after tweet showed support from the queens’ fans, calling the documentary out for its utter lies. there were even some tweets from well-respected historians correcting every falsehood from the documentary.
katherine rereads the words on the screen several times, almost not believing it was true.
“see, love?” jane asks gently, nonjudgmentally. “people believe us. they know it was all lies.” she leans down slightly closer. “they know it wasn’t your fault.”
katherine bursts into tears, burying her face in jane’s lap. she can only splutter forth various syllables of “i didn’t want it,” and “why did it happen?”
jane can only run loving fingers through her hair and let her cry, not having any answers to give.
katherine eventually cries herself out to near exhaustion, jane’s hand in her hair helping somewhat to soothe her. she lays there, numb and drained, barely hearing anything that’s going on around her and focusing only on the rhythmic movement of jane’s fingertips against the back of her head. jane looks up at the others, sadness giving way to anger.
“i don’t understand how he can go on tv and say those things,” she says hoarsely. “she was just a child.” a lump grows in her throat as she looks down at katherine laying in her lap.
parr and aragon nod solemnly. boleyn watches katherine and jane curiously. she watches the slow and repetitive movements of jane’s fingers in katherine’s hair, noting the way katherine seems to calm ever so slightly with each movement.
embarrassment flushed through her again as she looks down at her hands, her eyes finding base of her hand where her ‘sixth finger’ sits, mocking her.
“i was no witch,” she mumbles, before slipping out of the room and going back downstairs, leaving parr and aragon with jane and katherine.
she passes cleves on the stairs going in the opposite direction, and then finds herself back in the living room staring at the now blank tv. despite the screen not showing anything, boleyn can almost see redbridge sitting there, mocking her. she throws herself onto the couch with a huff.
there’s a small part of boleyn’s mind that, as much as she hates to admit it, slightly resents her cousin. okay, that’s not fair. it’s not katherine she resents; she loves katherine to pieces and she could never resent her. it’s just... she gets it, she understands that things were really hard for katherine, and they still are, and hearing all those lies about kat’s past was horrible enough for boleyn to hear, let alone kat herself. but it hadn’t been all sunshine and roses for boleyn either, and there was only so much attention and concern the others could have for her when katherine was having her own problems.
boleyn groans and shoves her face into a cushion. she shouldn’t be thinking like this, shouldn’t be jealous of the comfort katherine was getting when her cousin had literally passed out from the stress of it. besides, boleyn didn’t talk about her problems. she was the fun one, the kooky jokester who brushed everything off. that was her, right?
she can hear quiet voices from upstairs - jane sounding calm and kind like always. boleyn’s heart aches; she needs someone like jane to be there for her like she always is for katherine.
she sits on the couch, stone silent, for a long time. even as the other queens come and go for the evening, she pretends she’s fine even though she couldn’t be more awful.
she doesn’t try to sleep, she knows it wouldn’t work. night terrors plague her as often as they do katherine. she just doesn’t make the fuss.
it’s past midnight and she’s still sitting on the couch, house dark and quiet, when she hears footsteps and that kind, calm voice.
“what are you still doing up?”
boleyn turns suddenly, throwing a careless smile onto her face and pitching her voice just high enough to hopefully seem not as miserable as she felt.
“hey! i’m just, you know...” she trails off as she desperately tries to think of a good enough excuse. her brain appears to want to fail her today, and her mind is utterly blank. “...chilling,” she finishes, slightly lamely.
jane frowns at her. “i know that’s not true,” she counters. “what’s up?” she crosses to the couch, sitting down beside her. “you can talk to me, love.” the term of endearment slips out absentmindedly, as if jane was talking to katherine. ‘boleyn’ just seemed to formal. “you’ve been off since this afternoon, don’t think i didn’t notice.”
“off?” boleyn waves a hand, making a dismissive noise. “i’m not off.” jane just keeps looking at her, those kind eyes catching her off-guard, and boleyn finds her facade crumbling.
“well, it’s just, y’know,” she shrugs. “that documentary said some nasty stuff about all of us. i’m sure we’re all kinda freaked by it.”
“would you like to talk about it, love?” jane asks her softly, calmly, so as not to push her. she could tell boleyn had a defence mechanism in place, and if she could carefully disarm it then boleyn might talk to jane and share what was on her mind. she could hazard a guess, though; they all knew about boleyn’s insecurities about her hand, as much as she tried to hide it.
boleyn gives a shrug. “it’s stupid.” she sighs. “i know what he said isn’t true but it just stings, you know?”
jane nods silently, allowing boleyn to continue.
she considers for a long, quiet moment if she wants to explain. jane seems so caring, wanting to help her through it, but she’s just so afraid of being mocked and told off for what she feels, for showing any semblance of personality that isn’t carefree and fun, that it’s nearly impossible.
but then she sees jane’s face, imploring and caring, and she looks down at her hands in her lap again.
“i’m not a witch,” she mutters, tears pooling in her eyes.
“oh, love,” jane says, and her voice is so free of judgement that it makes the tears start to fall from boleyn’s eyes. “that was really horrible of him to say.”
having that thought reaffirmed by somebody else weirdly feels... almost good. it reassures boleyn that she wasn’t overreacting by being hurt by it, that she was allowed to have feelings about it. and then jane wraps her in a soft hug and boleyn finally gives in to her emotions in a way she hadn’t done for a long long time, sobbing into jane’s shoulder.
she clings to jane, almost embarrassingly so in her eyes. she can’t stop the tears as they pour down her cheeks, warm and raw. it reminds her of her past life, in a weird way, the night before she died. she felt the same - ungodly alone, scared, and regretful.
she feels jane’s hand slip upward and gently remove her hair from the messy bun it was half-confined to, letting it spill down, then beginning to lightly run her fingers through it.
“it’s alright, love,” jane whispers. “you’re okay now.”
boleyn’s thoughts mangle in her head,redbridge’s words twisting with her own lines from the show. even as her tears begin to subside on their own, her brain doesn’t clear.
she awkwardly pulls away from jane. her mouth fails to form words, so she simply tugs at the collar of her t-shirt, revealing crisscrossing red scratch marks around the base of her neck. “i have night terrors too,” she mumbles. “wondering if my head is still attached to my shoulders.”
“oh, love, i’m so sorry,” jane says, and she takes boleyn’s free hand in hers. she rubs her thumb in slow, soothing circles on the back of boleyn’s hand, and it reassures her that she can keep talking.
“sometimes I...” boleyn swallows. “sometimes i dream about henry on the day he had me arrested, and he has the guards chase me through the palace and then drags me before him, and he-” she cuts off her words and blinks back a fresh wave of tears. “he laughs. and then, other times i dream about elizabeth.”
that made jane pause. boleyn didn’t mention elizabeth very often, to the point that the other queens sometimes forgot she had even been a mother. the way boleyn speaks, however, is incredibly familiar, something jane had seen over and over again in her own mind when she thought about edward.
“i just wonder,” boleyn says quietly, “who explained it to her. who sat her down and told her that mummy is never coming back, that she’d never get a hug from me again.” she gives a dry half-laugh. “and i suppose she lost her father that day, too. it’s not like he cared about her after that.”
jane feels a sting at that. elizabeth that only been a tender two when anne had been executed. jane herself had forged a close bond with mary, then both girls were long forgotten when jane had edward.
“i looked after her the best i could,” jane says quietly, hoping to help boleyn feel better. “i wasn’t there for long enough to really do all that much, though.”
boleyn shrugs again. “i appreciate it,” she says half-heartedly. her hands pull back to lightly rest against her stomach. “elizabeth was lucky, at least,” she says softly, looking blankly downward.
“lucky about what-“ jane cuts off with a sharp inhale as the answer to her question appears in the form of boleyn’s famous ‘i had three miscarriages!’ line from the show, and her heart breaks just that much more.
“yeah,” boleyn says hollowly. she shifts slightly, hand unconsciously forming a fist. “at least she got to grow up.” she stares down at her lap. “at least she has a legacy as one of the most famous queens of all time, without some man in her way. and by god, i am so proud of her.” her tone turns darker. “i just wish i could have been there for her. i wish she could have had more siblings, I wish-” she closes her eyes. “I wish for so many things. but then I wake up, and i’m here, and little bess with her red hair and the cutest smile you’ve ever seen, she’s long gone.” she opens her eyes again, and it’s like she suddenly realises what she’s doing. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m telling you all this.”
jane gives her a soft, thoughtful smile. she reaches out and takes her hand, gently uncurling the fist it was tightly bound into.
“it’s alright, love,” she says, “you needed to get it out.” she sighs, her confident and maternal facade slipping slightly. “i understand how it feels, darling. knowing your child is long passed, but you’re still here, knowing they did wonderful things in their lives that you can only read about in a history book.” she squeezes her hand and drops her voice again. “and you are allowed to feel things, anne,” she continues. she brings her free hand up to rest on boleyn’s cheek. “you’re allowed to feel all the anger and sadness and unfairness you want. you deserve that much.”
“i don’t want to drag everyone down with negativity,” boleyn shrugs slightly. jane rubs her thumb against boleyn’s cheekbone gently.
“you’re not ‘dragging anyone down’ by talking about your feelings. you’re human, anne, and humans feel all kinds of emotions. bottling them up won’t help, love. i promise you, nobody is going to think less of you because you feel things.”
anne gives an embarrassed half-smile, and jane can feel her cheek warm beneath her hand. “i should hope not, she says quietly with a little laugh, but jane can sense the sensation in the statement.
“do you think you’re ready to try and sleep now?” she asks.
boleyn shrugs. “i guess.”
she allows jane to lead her upstairs and into her bedroom. boleyn gets herself comfortable, jane watching from a safe distance, before coming over. “sweet dreams, love,” she says softly. without thinking, she leans over and lightly kisses anne’s forehead.
it’s a surprise, the forehead kiss, but not an unwelcome one. in fact, it actually makes boleyn feel safe, and slightly less alone than she normally felt when she went to bed.
“goodnight, jane,” she mumbles back, cheeks flushing slightly. “and, uh, you too. sweet dreams.”
jane smiles softly at her, before retreating to the door and switching the light off. she closes the door behind her and boleyn finds herself smiling slightly in the darkness. she draws the blankets around her fully and closes her eyes.
jane lets the door close and sighs quietly. then she smiles.
as she walks back to her own room, she finds herself reflecting.
katherine needed a mother, that much was clear. ever since the moment they met, jane saw that katherine needed someone to look out for her and love her unconditionally despite her past.
boleyn needed a friend, a sister. someone to confide in and not fear judgement from and help her sort out her feelings.
jane decides as she climbs into her own bed that she’s very content to be both, thank you very much.
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