Disasterology
Title: Disasterology
Author: badenoughforyou
Paring: Jalex
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jack honestly never thought he could be loved until a stranger proves him wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jack or Alex. The title cred goes to Pierce the Veil.
A/N: So, this could possibly be a chaptered thing. I have a good plot for it, but seeing as I have a million other things started, I wanted to get feedback before I continued at all.
Masterpost
Jack felt like crying. He hated other kids. He hated school. He hated that his parents didn't care. He hated that he had no friends. He just hated life in general. He couldn't believe a higher power was making him go through this. He was only sixteen. He couldn't deal with it.
He sat on the swings, pushing off the ground slightly, swinging back and forth silently. He couldn't even find the motivation to cry anymore. He'd done it so much, he just didn't want to.
He looked out onto the winter wonderland, the snow beginning to fall steadily. It was so quiet and peaceful. No people. No being criticized. You couldn't be upset when there was nobody around to make you feel like dirt. He looked at the sky, cloudy and grey, reflecting the internal turmoil.
He didn't want to go home. It was the last place he wanted to be... besides school. His mother and he usually had quarrels and his dad was never home to take his side. Not that he would anyway.
He felt his throat constrict. He couldn't be expected to know how the fuck to deal with this. Nobody ever told him it would be this hard.
He felt his blood turn to ice as he heard familiar snickers. Those laughs that he so dreaded. He clenched his teeth and gripped the chains of the swing, feeling his heart pounding and his conscience screaming "run". But he didn't. He almost laughed at how horrid his luck always seemed to be. Even in the most peaceful places, he found conflict.
"Well, isn't it big nose Barakat? What are you doing here? Waiting for your boyfriend to push you on the swing?" He heard Michael ask. His grip tightened on the chains. He looked down at the ground, knowing they were in front of him, just waiting. He said nothing.
"You can never think of reasons for being so lame. You're getting pretty boring." One of Michael's friends said, somewhat exasperated, as if they'd been searching for him all day and expected a fight.
Jack stood up, deciding that he would just try and walk away, hoping to God they would just let it go. But, of course, that wouldn't be fun.
"Where do you think you're going?" Michael asked venomously, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him from getting away. Jack bit his lip, feeling fear rising up in his chest. The pain of old bruises seemed to flare up.
"Why... why are you doing this?" Jack asked, his voice quivering. He honestly didn't know why he just didn't throw a punch. He had height on his side, but he was outnumbered and rather lanky.
"You're just too fun, Jacky..." Michael hissed in his hear, making him cringe away. But his grip only tightened. He wasn't getting out of this that easily. He sucked in a breath. Okay, they wanted to do this the tough way.
"Let... me... go." Jack ordered. He was surprised by the steadiness of his voice. He looked at the boy opposite him and was pleased to see something flicker in his eyes. What was it? Unease? Good.
"I think... you should stick around a little longer." Michael said, regaining his normal cocky attitude. Jack felt sick. Michael shoved him back, but he didn't fall. His instinct was to run. And damn, he did. But not before he felt someone tackle him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him.
"Not so fast." The boy on his back growled. Jack couldn't help it. He felt hot tears threatening to spill over. He wasn't a tough kid and he knew it. He knew it so well it hurt. He squeaked as he felt knees grinding into his back.
"Get off him! I'd rather be nice and let him fight standing up. Get up!" Michael ordered. Jack slowly got up, clutching himself. Everything hurt.
Before Jack even knew what he was doing, he reacted. Anger bubbled up inside of him. He was sick of this. He swung at Michael, hitting him square in the nose. No doubt he'd done some damage. He gasped, surprised he actually him him. The other boy clutched his nose, eyes ablaze. Jack was so dead. But he felt so good.
He tackled Michael into the dirty snow, but it didn't take long for his cronies to yank him off, kicking and flailing.
"Hold him." Michael said. The tone was so ominous, it made Jack suddenly stop, his blood turning to ice. He started to struggle, but as soon as he felt the first fist in his stomach, he knew he was done for. There wasn't any escaping now.
"I tried to be fair, Barakat. But you just fucked up your chance." Michael spat, getting in the cringing boy's face.
"You might be proud of what you are, you fucking asshole, but the truth is... once high school is over, you will be too." Jack groaned, feeling his internal organs ache.
That statement didn't earn him brownie points. After countless shots to the gut, he felt light headed. He felt the world spinning under his feet. This wasn't real. Nothing could hurt this bad. He was barely even conscious when he hit the ground. They must have been done with him.
He had no strength left. No will. He wanted to curl up in a ball, but he did nothing. He hurt so much. He felt tears roll down his cheeks as he cried, whimpering softly.
"What the fuck is going on?" He heard a voice suddenly. It was as if he were dreaming. He'd never heard this voice before.
"What does it look like, Gaskarth?" One of the boys asked. Jack couldn't tell anymore. They all sounded the same. They were all the same.
"What the fuck did you do to him? He's not fucking conscious, you assholes! This isn't a joke!" The voice scoffed. Jack could feel someone kneeling beside him. He didn't dare open his eyes. He was terrified. He tensed, as if whoever it was planned to take another hit. But he only felt warm hands on his cheeks.
"Hey... Hey, buddy. You alright?" The voice asked. Jack didn't even open his eyes. He just shook his head as much as he could. He had to get away from those boys, even if it was a stranger that took him away. He didn't care anymore.
"Dude, he's fine... I just roughed him up a little." Michael said and Jack could almost see his smug expression, making him groan.
"Asshole..." He grunted. Why should he care if he got beaten to a pulp anymore? He could hear someone's advances, their boots crunching the snow underfoot. But they were abruptly stopped. He felt the warmth disappear.
"Don't ever fucking touch him again." He heard the mystery boy. Jack felt a fluttering in his chest.
"Or what?" One of the boys asked.
"You don't want me to show you." He answered. Jack felt a smile creep onto his lips. But he felt his consciousness slipping away slowly. He gripped the ground, trying to stay awake, but he couldn't.
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Alex "persuaded" the bullies to get the fuck away from them. He also made it clear that they wouldn't get away so easily the next time they decided to lay a finger on Jack.
Sure, he didn't know the boy, but the way he saw how helpless and small he looked, he couldn't help but just... fall for him. He wasn't sure that was what it was, but he felt something. And he knew he had to help Jack.
He picked him, surprised at how light the boy felt. He clutched him to his chest, warming his cold body.
"Hey, you're gonna be okay, Jack." Alex said softly, but knew he couldn't hear him.
But Jack was slowly waking up. He slowly opened his eyes, looking upon the face of his knight in shining armor. His caramel eyes were trained ahead, looking as if he was on a dire mission. His hair fluttered softly in the crisp breeze. Jack couldn't seem to catch his breath.
"You... didn't have to do that..." Jack groaned softly. Alex's eyes looked about until he realized the voice had come from Jack. He grinned at the boy in his arms.
"I didn't have to, yes. I wanted to." Alex said. Jack shivered at his words.
"Who are you?" Jack breathed, eyes wide.
"Alex." The boy said simply.
"Alex..." Jack repeated, rolling the name off his tongue. He liked the sound of it.
"I'm going to get you home, m'kay?" Alex said, holding him a little tighter.
"But... you don't know where I live." Jack said, confused.
"I was hoping you could help me with that." Alex said, laughing softly. It was a beautiful sound that made Jack feel warm.
"Mmmm..." Jack started, looking around. "I don't want to go home." He said finally, his head pounding once again. Before Alex could even argue, he was out again.
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Jack woke up, his head spinning. He opened his eyes slowly.
"Alex..." He croaked, trying to sit up, but sucked in a sharp breath at how much it hurt. He looked around as much as he could. He was on a couch, but he wasn't in his house.
"Hey, you're up." He heard a voice, his head whipping around, moaning suddenly as how much he ached just from moving his neck. Alex was quickly by the side of the couch, sitting on the floor and resting his chin the cushion where Jack's head lay.
"How do you feel?" Alex asked, worry in his eyes. Jack felt odd. He'd never had someone genuinely care about how he felt.
"Really... shitty." He confessed. Alex frowned. Jack suddenly felt terrified, remembering why he was in this state in the first place. He squeezed his eyes shut to block it out, but it only made the visions more vivid.
"They're not going to hurt you again." Alex assured him. Jack felt a tear slip down his cheek, his lips trembling.
"I-I just hurt so bad... I c-can't go back to school... I can't, Alex.. Don't let them." Jack pleaded, but knew Alex couldn't help him there. Alex looked helpless, his heart breaking at the sight of the boy in front of him. He pressed his lips to his cheek.
"I wish I could... I would take you away from here. This is a god damn filthy world..." Alex said, resting his forehead on Jack's.
"Why can't we? Why can't we just run?" Jack asked desperately. What if they went too far next time?
Alex smiled sadly, but his eyes conveyed sadness beyond anything Jack had ever seen in his life.
"I've wanted to, Jack. Believe me. I tried once. I was terrified of dying. I would either be killed or kill myself and... and I knew one day I would just cut too deep." Alex said, showing Jack his wrists, littered in scars. They were far from fresh. It indicated it had been a while since Alex had taken the blade to his skin.
Jack was somewhat mesmerized. He ran his hands over the raised areas, feeling every instance of pain Alex had ever felt. He felt it all right there in one touch.
"I don't want anyone to ever get fucked up like me... not while I'm around to do anything about it." He said, his lips trembling slightly as he looked at Jack. "I saw a scared boy today and I saw me and I knew I needed you.. I mean..." Alex had slipped up. "I needed to help you." He said, trying to brush off the prior statement.
Jack's hand left Alex's wrist. He placed it on his cheek, slowly making his way up to his hair and running it through to the back of his neck gently. Alex shuddered. It had been so long since anyone had touched him in an affectionate way. Even just a small way.
"What if you had... me?" Jack asked as Alex's hands traced the lines on his other hands softly. He looked up, confused by the statement.
"Had you?" Alex asked, feeling his heart flutter. Jack pondered it. What did he mean?
"We could run away together. We could." Jack said.