Blessed with a Curse (2/?)
Title: Blessed with a Curse
Author: silenceguardian
Rating: PG-13 for blood and sickness and such.
Pairing: Alex/Jack
Summary: It's 1917 and in the midst of a national epidemic two boys try to find out why life is actually worth living.
Disclaimer:Thank gosh this never happened, I own nothing except the storyline.
Dedications: I'd like to thank smilekid_xx for writing an awesome period piece and liking mine. :3
Author's note: This is mostly back story, but I tried to keep it fresh and interesting, let's hope you think so too! Thank you so much for reading! :D Title belongs to Bring Me the Horizon.
Previous chapter!
Jack soon realized that everyone in this room will die. Along with the next room, and the next room. Along with almost every being in the hospital. Including him, if he stayed there long enough. Including Alex.
It scared him that he wasn’t as terrified to die as he should be. Life before the hospital was miserable; he had lived on the gray pavements of Baltimore. All day he would beg for food and money from the lavishly dressed walking by, most of them didn’t even give him a passing sympathetic glance. The only happiness he had ever experienced was in the form of another skinny street-walker, John. Jack never did the talking with him, John always continued on about how he was the fifth John O’ something or other from a famous family in some European country. John had lost everything he ever owned, and decided to make a new home in America, but it didn’t take kindly to him.
So then Jack lost him too.
After that, he gave up. He had decided that this life was worth nothing anymore, he had lost everyone he ever loved. At that point, he started to hang around the local hospital, hoping to catch some disease. Every day he went back, he’d peer in the closed, foggy window on the side of the building and see the most beautiful creature.
For weeks he had wondered what name went with that face, that face that he now knew as Alexander.
The bed beside him croaked and groaned with Alex turning over on it. Jack’s gaze wandered over to the boy’s face. Jack’s noticed since the first time he saw Alex in the window, he’s changed so much. Alex’s eyes had lost their shine; his skin has gradually been pulled tighter and tighter over his bones. For the first time, Jack opened his eyes to Alex’s condition.
Jack felt a rush of emotion crash onto him. Alex was dying. Alex was going to die. Jack could do nothing to stop it. He wanted to scream and cry and yell at God. Why would God take from the world such a beautiful human being? Why would He spare miserable Jack but rob an innocent Alex of his days? To his surprise, a wet tear drifted down his cheek. Jack didn’t know Alex. Jack had only been viewing Alex for months through a dirty window.
Jack wept silent tears, knowing that everyone who was important to him has or will die. The frailty of the human body was infuriating, for Jack just wanted not to be alone for once.
“Jack, why are you crying?” Alex soft voice carried, twinkling bells in Jack’s ears.
“I’ve been here for a week. I’m not sick yet. But you get worse and worse. It isn’t fair. You deserve to live.” He whispered.
“Why do I deserve to live? I’ve done nothing my entire life. I fled England to escape the war. I hid from enlisting in the army. I’m a coward, nothing more.” Alex scoffed bitterly. He spat out the words, like acid on his tongue.
“Because,” Jack sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to say what he desperately needed to. Because you’re everything to me, Jack bit his lip. Because you’re all I have left, although you don’t know.
“Jack, you can’t say I need to live if you don’t even know how I’ve lived.”
“Then tell me.”
“That’s for another day.” Alex coughed, hoping that by another day rolled around he won’t be breathing the metallic air.
~
Alex was awoken in the middle of the night by rough hacking close to his bed. The faint stench of blood danced in his nostrils and tore at the back of his throat. He commanded his fatigued body to lift itself, and he was shocked at what he saw.
Jack, coughing. Thick red liquid saturating his covers. Blood smeared over the bottom half of his face. Alex took a sharp breath, which caused Jack to look up at him.
His bright chocolate eyes had dulled into a color that was nearly black. Alex’s hand grasped at his sheets, looking for some form of comfort within their starch white hue.
“It’s so cold.” Jack’s tone blessed the air with a curse.
He instantly became a statistic. He was going to die.
Author: silenceguardian
Rating: PG-13 for blood and sickness and such.
Pairing: Alex/Jack
Summary: It's 1917 and in the midst of a national epidemic two boys try to find out why life is actually worth living.
Disclaimer:Thank gosh this never happened, I own nothing except the storyline.
Dedications: I'd like to thank smilekid_xx for writing an awesome period piece and liking mine. :3
Author's note: This is mostly back story, but I tried to keep it fresh and interesting, let's hope you think so too! Thank you so much for reading! :D Title belongs to Bring Me the Horizon.
Previous chapter!
Jack soon realized that everyone in this room will die. Along with the next room, and the next room. Along with almost every being in the hospital. Including him, if he stayed there long enough. Including Alex.
It scared him that he wasn’t as terrified to die as he should be. Life before the hospital was miserable; he had lived on the gray pavements of Baltimore. All day he would beg for food and money from the lavishly dressed walking by, most of them didn’t even give him a passing sympathetic glance. The only happiness he had ever experienced was in the form of another skinny street-walker, John. Jack never did the talking with him, John always continued on about how he was the fifth John O’ something or other from a famous family in some European country. John had lost everything he ever owned, and decided to make a new home in America, but it didn’t take kindly to him.
So then Jack lost him too.
After that, he gave up. He had decided that this life was worth nothing anymore, he had lost everyone he ever loved. At that point, he started to hang around the local hospital, hoping to catch some disease. Every day he went back, he’d peer in the closed, foggy window on the side of the building and see the most beautiful creature.
For weeks he had wondered what name went with that face, that face that he now knew as Alexander.
The bed beside him croaked and groaned with Alex turning over on it. Jack’s gaze wandered over to the boy’s face. Jack’s noticed since the first time he saw Alex in the window, he’s changed so much. Alex’s eyes had lost their shine; his skin has gradually been pulled tighter and tighter over his bones. For the first time, Jack opened his eyes to Alex’s condition.
Jack felt a rush of emotion crash onto him. Alex was dying. Alex was going to die. Jack could do nothing to stop it. He wanted to scream and cry and yell at God. Why would God take from the world such a beautiful human being? Why would He spare miserable Jack but rob an innocent Alex of his days? To his surprise, a wet tear drifted down his cheek. Jack didn’t know Alex. Jack had only been viewing Alex for months through a dirty window.
Jack wept silent tears, knowing that everyone who was important to him has or will die. The frailty of the human body was infuriating, for Jack just wanted not to be alone for once.
“Jack, why are you crying?” Alex soft voice carried, twinkling bells in Jack’s ears.
“I’ve been here for a week. I’m not sick yet. But you get worse and worse. It isn’t fair. You deserve to live.” He whispered.
“Why do I deserve to live? I’ve done nothing my entire life. I fled England to escape the war. I hid from enlisting in the army. I’m a coward, nothing more.” Alex scoffed bitterly. He spat out the words, like acid on his tongue.
“Because,” Jack sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to say what he desperately needed to. Because you’re everything to me, Jack bit his lip. Because you’re all I have left, although you don’t know.
“Jack, you can’t say I need to live if you don’t even know how I’ve lived.”
“Then tell me.”
“That’s for another day.” Alex coughed, hoping that by another day rolled around he won’t be breathing the metallic air.
~
Alex was awoken in the middle of the night by rough hacking close to his bed. The faint stench of blood danced in his nostrils and tore at the back of his throat. He commanded his fatigued body to lift itself, and he was shocked at what he saw.
Jack, coughing. Thick red liquid saturating his covers. Blood smeared over the bottom half of his face. Alex took a sharp breath, which caused Jack to look up at him.
His bright chocolate eyes had dulled into a color that was nearly black. Alex’s hand grasped at his sheets, looking for some form of comfort within their starch white hue.
“It’s so cold.” Jack’s tone blessed the air with a curse.
He instantly became a statistic. He was going to die.