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It is quiet on this particular night on the train.
Like the aftermath of a battlefield; after constant noise, it is too quiet.
His arms are wrapped around her waist, her back against his chest.
The eyes of the face resting on her shoulder are red and puffy.
He did not face her not because he was scared to be vulnerable but because if he faced her, he would break completely.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” she whispers, relaxing farther back into his arms.
“I know,” his voice is hoarse and fragile. “I know they meant no harm. But it still hurts,” he nestles his face into her shoulder before he can break the train’s silence.
“Of course it does, Love. Because you didn’t do anything wrong,” she turns her head to kiss the side of his face, caressing it with a hand. “You’ve freed London and you’ve saved people. You’ve helped Mr. Darwin and Abberline amongst many others. They know how you work. They gave you the plan so that you could carry it out. All of our actions have effects, helpful and unhelpful. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’ve saved a lot of lives, Jacob. Evie thinks through her own plans because that’s how she does things. You do things differently and that’s fine. You learn in different ways because there isn’t one set way of doing something. You’ve both made mistakes but you’ve also saved people. Mistakes don’t cancel out what you’ve accomplished. You’ve done your best, something no one should ever tire of.”
Jacob removed his face from against her shoulder, returning back to resting his head on it. He interlaced his hands with hers to acknowledge her words before he spoke again, “I just don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything right.”
But her heart twists at his own, and for all the pain he had received in return for his help. “Don’t let it get to you, Jacob. Don’t change who you are. It’s almost over. Just the party. Then Starrick. You’ve done well,” she turns in his arms to face him, no longer being able to control herself. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she combs her fingers through his unkempt hair, feeling the way his heart beats quickly and body convulses ever so often, keeping his pain down. “Let it out, Love,” she says.
His arms wrap around her tighter, letting out only the quietest hiccups, but that was all he needed. All he needed to know was that he could take up space. That he could be himself and not be berated for it.
“But what will I do?” he asked quietly. He is a compass that has lost sight of true north. “I can’t do everything on my own. I have to work with them, but they’ll get angry at what I do. I’ll mess something up,”
“You won’t,” she reassures, running her fingers along his head. “And you’re not alone. I’ll talk to Henry about the plan. I’ll help you.”
He nods, continuing to clutch her shoulder as he cries.
She presses a final kiss to his head, “You only need to keep doing your best.”