Disasterology (Chapter 2)
Title: Disasterology (2/?)
Author: badenoughforyou
Rating: pg-13
Pairing: Jalex
Summary: Jack believes it's impossible for anyone to care about him until a stranger proves him wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. blah blah. Title cred goes to Pierce the Veil
A/N: I'm not really sure what to say except that I really like this chapter.
Masterpost
Jack was home again once more.
Really, it took much convincing from Alex, but eventually he did.
He remembered standing at the door, half propped up by the caramel eyed boy opposite him, wishing he could just stay with him; his guardian angel of sorts.
"Do I have to go?" Jack huffed, still feeling sore as fuck. No doubt it would be even worse tomorrow, but his parents would still make him go to school. He felt dread creep up at the word school. He felt sick.
"I can't take you away, Jack." Alex said, taking the younger boy's hand and squeezing it. Something flickered in his eyes. "Some day, I'm going to get out of here, though. And you can come with me. I want you to." Alex continued. There was something so much more behind those words, but Jack didn't have time to ponder. He bit his lip to prevent it from trembling. Before he could think of what he wanted to say, he was hugging Alex, ignoring the pain of his abdomen pressed to the other boy. He really didn't care.
"Please... soon." Jack said, whispering in his ear, not able to stop a tear from sliding down his cheek. "I can't take m-much more of this..." He said, his voice quivering. He pulled back reluctantly, his heart breaking at the look on Alex's face. It was a mixture between extreme remorse and longing. He didn't know what to say.
"I promise, Jack." He finally said, wiping Jack's cheek with the sleeve of his hoodie. Jack nodded, trying to force a smile, but it probably didn't look even close to one. "You should go... you need rest." Alex added, taking Jack's hand again, contradicting his words immensely. Jack simply nodded again.
"O-okay... Will I see you again?" Jack asked, not wanting to leave. Not even a little bit.
"Of course." Alex said and the certainty in his voice caused Jack to shiver.
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But of course, he didn't see Alex again. Not the next week, or the next... or the next.
Jack was about to break. He couldn't believe he'd been so naive to think that Alex actually cared. Nobody cared. Why would he be any different?
He sat in class, feeling eyes boring in the back of his head. He gripped in head and stared down at his desk, petrified. As much as he wanted to believe Alex, Michael and his friends hadn't taken Alex's warning seriously. In fact, if anything, it made everything so much fucking worse.
He could barely breathe when he walked because his head was always spinning, his gut always ached, and he just felt broken from the inside out. It was like something had just taken him and snapped him in two or smashed him to bits with a hammer. He could barely take it.
"Hey... hey, Barakat..." He heard the foul whispers. He cringed, gritting his teeth in the hopes they would just leave him alone. He felt something hit the back of his head. He daren't move as he felt wads of paper being chucked at him silently. He just loved how the teachers never noticed.
He adored that his classmates knew exactly what was going on, too. But they didn't care. Why would they possibly care about Jack Bassam Barakat? Why would they care about a lanky, doe-eyed boy who was of no worth to anyone on the whole planet?
He didn't know the answer. He was just done.
Before anyone knew what was going on, he ran out of the room as fast as he possibly could, feeling tears streaming down his face. He ran into people, hearing shouts of anger, but he kept going. He kept going until he reached the bathroom. He quickly locked himself in a stall, sinking to the ground and sobbing. Why did he let them get to him?
It wasn't just the verbal abuse. In fact, that was the thing he cared least about. It was just the fear of not knowing when he'd be conscious again after being ruthlessly tormented. These were no normal kids. He'd never encountered such vile and evil people in his life. It sickened him that mere teenagers were capable of such hate and prejudice. They knew nothing about him. Absolutely zilch.
He rested his head on the cool partition and breathed slowly. He unlocked the bathroom door and stepped to the sink, looking at his reflection. He had no idea who the boy in the mirror was. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, his eyes were blood shot and tear stained, and he looked as if he'd never slept in his life. That was half true.
He brought a hand to his face, making sure this was really his reflection. He gasped as he realized what he'd been turned into. He shook as he gripped the sink, finding it hard to keep standing. He swallowed thickly as he reached his verdict.
He reached into his pocket and found his weapon of choice. He'd never used it, but he always kept it there, just in case. He looked at the shiny razor, his handing still trembling. This was ridiculous. He'd never, not in a million years, thought he would be fully driven to do this.
He sucked in a breath as he brought the metal to his skin. As he pulled it across, it hurt like hell. He wasn't going to lie. But something about that hellish, burning feeling made everything else seem more bearable. In fact, in a sick way, he almost liked how it felt. He liked how it dulled his senses.
He looked down on the fresh wound, admiring the blood pooling slowly. It wasn't very deep, though. He placed it against his wrist once again, near the thinnest part. He thought for a moment about how lovely it would be to just cut too deep. He wished he had the courage to do it. How wonderful it would be for Michael to find him, dead and lying in a pool of his own blood. How would he feel then?
But he took the thin metal away from his skin and sighed.
"Jack!" He heard a voice and quickly shoved the razor into his pocket, cutting some of his fingers in the process. He hid his wrist behind his back as he turned and saw the lovely caramel haired boy staring at him in disbelief.
"W-what are you doing?" He asked, panicked. Jack just stared back, his mouth dry. "Did you... are you..." Alex couldn't form words. He took a step toward the younger boy and took his arm without Jack's objection. He felt suddenly ashamed when he saw the look on Alex's face.
"Jack..." Alex said as he saw the crimson streak on his wrist. He bit his lip and looked up at the raven haired boy with saucer sized eyes. "Why?" He asked, almost silently. Jack felt sudden anger bubble up inside.
"Why the fuck do you think?" Jack asked, ripping his arm away from the older boy. "Hello! I hate my life. I hate everybody. I hate living. I hate... I hate... this pain. I can't get away, Alex and it's been three fucking weeks since I've seen you! I have nobody, if you didn't realize before. Nobody. And then you came along and I thought maybe I had a friend for fucking once in my awful existence... But... I was wrong. You're probably just like everyone else." Jack finished, feeling suddenly drained of all anger. It was replaced with sadness.
His knees buckled under him as he slid to the floor, shaking. Alex was still trying to process his words. He sad beside him, saying nothing at first. He wrapped his arms around the shaking, petrified boy, trying not to squeeze him too hard.
"I'm so fucking sorry..." Alex said, burying his face in Jack's neck. Jack shuddered, not able to suppress how good it felt when Alex touched him. He couldn't help that it was so utterly perfect. He melted into the older boy, not saying a word.
"I never wanted you to feel like that, Jack... I just thought... I thought I was bad for you..." Alex said, biting his lip. Jack looked up at him in confusion. "I thought I might affect you in a bad way." Alex added.
"No... no, I need you. Please." Jack pleaded, meeting Alex's eyes. He wasn't sure where that phrase came from, but as it emerged from his lips, he knew it was the truest thing he'd ever uttered. He needed the older boy more than anything on this whole planet.
"I'm not going anywhere." Alex said. "I promise this time." He said. He took Jack arm once again and kissed the cut that was slowly already beginning to heal. "You just have to promise me that you never... ever do that again." He said, giving Jack a small smile. Jack nodded quickly, obliging in a heartbeat. Alex hesitantly lifted his shirt and Jack gasped.
His hips were littered in scars. They were white and none looked fresh, but the fact that they were there made Jack want to cry. He couldn't help but extend his fingers to trace over the raised flesh. It was just an addition to the ones on his wrist.
"When my parents saw my cuts... they wanted to... practically put me in a loony bin. But I promised them I would stop... and I kind of did. They just ended up not being visible to them anymore." Alex said, feeling the blade like it was just yesterday that he'd mutilated himself beyond repair.
And in that moment, Jack realized that he didn't just need Alex. Alex needed him as well.
Author: badenoughforyou
Rating: pg-13
Pairing: Jalex
Summary: Jack believes it's impossible for anyone to care about him until a stranger proves him wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. blah blah. Title cred goes to Pierce the Veil
A/N: I'm not really sure what to say except that I really like this chapter.
Masterpost
Jack was home again once more.
Really, it took much convincing from Alex, but eventually he did.
He remembered standing at the door, half propped up by the caramel eyed boy opposite him, wishing he could just stay with him; his guardian angel of sorts.
"Do I have to go?" Jack huffed, still feeling sore as fuck. No doubt it would be even worse tomorrow, but his parents would still make him go to school. He felt dread creep up at the word school. He felt sick.
"I can't take you away, Jack." Alex said, taking the younger boy's hand and squeezing it. Something flickered in his eyes. "Some day, I'm going to get out of here, though. And you can come with me. I want you to." Alex continued. There was something so much more behind those words, but Jack didn't have time to ponder. He bit his lip to prevent it from trembling. Before he could think of what he wanted to say, he was hugging Alex, ignoring the pain of his abdomen pressed to the other boy. He really didn't care.
"Please... soon." Jack said, whispering in his ear, not able to stop a tear from sliding down his cheek. "I can't take m-much more of this..." He said, his voice quivering. He pulled back reluctantly, his heart breaking at the look on Alex's face. It was a mixture between extreme remorse and longing. He didn't know what to say.
"I promise, Jack." He finally said, wiping Jack's cheek with the sleeve of his hoodie. Jack nodded, trying to force a smile, but it probably didn't look even close to one. "You should go... you need rest." Alex added, taking Jack's hand again, contradicting his words immensely. Jack simply nodded again.
"O-okay... Will I see you again?" Jack asked, not wanting to leave. Not even a little bit.
"Of course." Alex said and the certainty in his voice caused Jack to shiver.
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But of course, he didn't see Alex again. Not the next week, or the next... or the next.
Jack was about to break. He couldn't believe he'd been so naive to think that Alex actually cared. Nobody cared. Why would he be any different?
He sat in class, feeling eyes boring in the back of his head. He gripped in head and stared down at his desk, petrified. As much as he wanted to believe Alex, Michael and his friends hadn't taken Alex's warning seriously. In fact, if anything, it made everything so much fucking worse.
He could barely breathe when he walked because his head was always spinning, his gut always ached, and he just felt broken from the inside out. It was like something had just taken him and snapped him in two or smashed him to bits with a hammer. He could barely take it.
"Hey... hey, Barakat..." He heard the foul whispers. He cringed, gritting his teeth in the hopes they would just leave him alone. He felt something hit the back of his head. He daren't move as he felt wads of paper being chucked at him silently. He just loved how the teachers never noticed.
He adored that his classmates knew exactly what was going on, too. But they didn't care. Why would they possibly care about Jack Bassam Barakat? Why would they care about a lanky, doe-eyed boy who was of no worth to anyone on the whole planet?
He didn't know the answer. He was just done.
Before anyone knew what was going on, he ran out of the room as fast as he possibly could, feeling tears streaming down his face. He ran into people, hearing shouts of anger, but he kept going. He kept going until he reached the bathroom. He quickly locked himself in a stall, sinking to the ground and sobbing. Why did he let them get to him?
It wasn't just the verbal abuse. In fact, that was the thing he cared least about. It was just the fear of not knowing when he'd be conscious again after being ruthlessly tormented. These were no normal kids. He'd never encountered such vile and evil people in his life. It sickened him that mere teenagers were capable of such hate and prejudice. They knew nothing about him. Absolutely zilch.
He rested his head on the cool partition and breathed slowly. He unlocked the bathroom door and stepped to the sink, looking at his reflection. He had no idea who the boy in the mirror was. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, his eyes were blood shot and tear stained, and he looked as if he'd never slept in his life. That was half true.
He brought a hand to his face, making sure this was really his reflection. He gasped as he realized what he'd been turned into. He shook as he gripped the sink, finding it hard to keep standing. He swallowed thickly as he reached his verdict.
He reached into his pocket and found his weapon of choice. He'd never used it, but he always kept it there, just in case. He looked at the shiny razor, his handing still trembling. This was ridiculous. He'd never, not in a million years, thought he would be fully driven to do this.
He sucked in a breath as he brought the metal to his skin. As he pulled it across, it hurt like hell. He wasn't going to lie. But something about that hellish, burning feeling made everything else seem more bearable. In fact, in a sick way, he almost liked how it felt. He liked how it dulled his senses.
He looked down on the fresh wound, admiring the blood pooling slowly. It wasn't very deep, though. He placed it against his wrist once again, near the thinnest part. He thought for a moment about how lovely it would be to just cut too deep. He wished he had the courage to do it. How wonderful it would be for Michael to find him, dead and lying in a pool of his own blood. How would he feel then?
But he took the thin metal away from his skin and sighed.
"Jack!" He heard a voice and quickly shoved the razor into his pocket, cutting some of his fingers in the process. He hid his wrist behind his back as he turned and saw the lovely caramel haired boy staring at him in disbelief.
"W-what are you doing?" He asked, panicked. Jack just stared back, his mouth dry. "Did you... are you..." Alex couldn't form words. He took a step toward the younger boy and took his arm without Jack's objection. He felt suddenly ashamed when he saw the look on Alex's face.
"Jack..." Alex said as he saw the crimson streak on his wrist. He bit his lip and looked up at the raven haired boy with saucer sized eyes. "Why?" He asked, almost silently. Jack felt sudden anger bubble up inside.
"Why the fuck do you think?" Jack asked, ripping his arm away from the older boy. "Hello! I hate my life. I hate everybody. I hate living. I hate... I hate... this pain. I can't get away, Alex and it's been three fucking weeks since I've seen you! I have nobody, if you didn't realize before. Nobody. And then you came along and I thought maybe I had a friend for fucking once in my awful existence... But... I was wrong. You're probably just like everyone else." Jack finished, feeling suddenly drained of all anger. It was replaced with sadness.
His knees buckled under him as he slid to the floor, shaking. Alex was still trying to process his words. He sad beside him, saying nothing at first. He wrapped his arms around the shaking, petrified boy, trying not to squeeze him too hard.
"I'm so fucking sorry..." Alex said, burying his face in Jack's neck. Jack shuddered, not able to suppress how good it felt when Alex touched him. He couldn't help that it was so utterly perfect. He melted into the older boy, not saying a word.
"I never wanted you to feel like that, Jack... I just thought... I thought I was bad for you..." Alex said, biting his lip. Jack looked up at him in confusion. "I thought I might affect you in a bad way." Alex added.
"No... no, I need you. Please." Jack pleaded, meeting Alex's eyes. He wasn't sure where that phrase came from, but as it emerged from his lips, he knew it was the truest thing he'd ever uttered. He needed the older boy more than anything on this whole planet.
"I'm not going anywhere." Alex said. "I promise this time." He said. He took Jack arm once again and kissed the cut that was slowly already beginning to heal. "You just have to promise me that you never... ever do that again." He said, giving Jack a small smile. Jack nodded quickly, obliging in a heartbeat. Alex hesitantly lifted his shirt and Jack gasped.
His hips were littered in scars. They were white and none looked fresh, but the fact that they were there made Jack want to cry. He couldn't help but extend his fingers to trace over the raised flesh. It was just an addition to the ones on his wrist.
"When my parents saw my cuts... they wanted to... practically put me in a loony bin. But I promised them I would stop... and I kind of did. They just ended up not being visible to them anymore." Alex said, feeling the blade like it was just yesterday that he'd mutilated himself beyond repair.
And in that moment, Jack realized that he didn't just need Alex. Alex needed him as well.