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Jack was used to death. He thought he was at least. He'd killed people, a lot of people, he'd died plenty, but this… he couldn't have prepared for this.
His form wasn't stable at all, he was just a pair of legs with a gurgling mass of mold and eyes spilling out above it, but he could still see her. What was left of her.
There were calcified chunks all over the floor, dead bugs littering the old house, she wasn't recognizable at all anymore, but he knew. He knew whose body was lying there on the floor.
And he knew whose fault it was.
He had done this, he had taken his daughters away, and now he's taken his wife too? Would he stop at nothing until Jack too was crumbling onto the floor? No, no, no, no, no. Ethan wasn't going to take anything more from Jack. He couldn't beat him, not this time, he was just a weak little city boy who Evie loved sooo much, for no goddamn reason.
Jack finally collapsed onto the floor next to her, what was left of her at least. God that good for nothingboy had even taken her precious lantern from her, his determination to take everything they held dear from them knew no bounds.
There was a lot he should've said. Things he should've apologized for, or things he should've thanked her for, but he didn't have it in him anymore. He hoped she understood.
Jack got up again, or he tried to at the very least, now he could only drag himself, just a pile of mold trying to reform into a person, but this time he remained unstable no matter what. Maybe his connection to Evie was faltering. Maybe she was cutting him off since she didn't want him as a father anymore. No matter what, he was either going to avenge Marguerite, or join her.
Hopefully both.
This was it. Jack had died for the last time. It was dark. All-consumingly dark. It didn't feel like floating, or drowning, it felt like falling, falling deeper and deeper, feeling Joe's voice reverberate through his head even though he knew he wasn't there. Besides that was only nothingness. He could barely feel himself there. “This is how death feels then..” he thought to himself, maybe he'd get to see her here, maybe he was just dissipating and he'd never see anyone ever again.
Suddenly it felt warm, and he was definitely lying in bed, a familiar feeling bed at that, and it was bright, even just the warm glow of a lantern felt blinding after the pitch dark he'd experienced. He could barely guess where he was before he heard an excited chirp and felt arms wrapping around him. He tried to lift himself up and see who it was but his body still felt heavy. He didn't have to wonder for long, since he heard a familiar voice soon enough.
“Jack! Thank God, I thought I was all alone here, but you're here, which means you're dead, but it means we're together again, and I missed you, I really…” It was Marguerite, no doubt about it. She rambled on for a minute before trailing off into quiet sobs as she kissed him on the cheek before shoving her face into his neck and hugging him tighter like he might fade away again.
He sat in silence, finally once he had the strength to move again he hugged her back, “I missed you too…” He said before choking up hugging her even closer as he started to cry too. At least they still had each other.
Even death couldn't tear them apart.
This place definitely wasn't good, he could feel the mold seeping from every seam of the place, but he could be happy anywhere with her, even purgatory.