Fireworks. [Chapter Forty-Seven]
Title: Fireworks
Author: Harriet, a.k.a masokisstiic
Rating: R
Pairing: Alex and Jack, if the kids don't believe, make them believe.
POV: Third
Summary: So it's true what they say, if you love someone, you should set them free.
Disclaimer: Totally fictional, soz.
Credit: Title to YouMeAtSix
A/N: So this is the final chapter, and if you read the prologue then you'll have an idea of what's going to happen. The epilogue will come soon to finally put an end to this story once and for all. I hope this doesn't disappoint.
Tumblr.
Masterpost.
Jack finally managed to get himself up to bed at eleven o’clock, he made a mental note to go to sleep, but it seemed his own brain had torn it up. He settled for putting in a DVD, a comedy in a hope to make himself laugh, to make himself forget. It didn’t exactly do the trick, but at least it passed the time for now Jack was sat up in bed and waiting for Alex to come in with the tea.
He glanced toward the clock to see that it was half one in the morning, he should be asleep but alas he was wide-awake. It was difficult to fall asleep without Alex, though sometimes he managed, it seemed tonight was one of those nights where it was impossible. You can’t even begin to imagine the relief that flooded Jack’s blood as he had heard their front door unlock and those familiar, large boots stepping onto the landing and into the hallway. It was always the same routine with Alex when he came home; this was how Jack managed to make sure that it was him.
First he’d track mud and dirt through the hallway, kick off his shoes, and then he’d proceed to throw his coat onto the kitchen table and switch the kettle on. He’d always make two mugs of tea even if Jack was asleep, Alex would just drink it for him. It was always a “just in case” type of thing.
Letting out a yawn, he listened to the older boy’s footsteps as he slowly and carefully made his way up the stairs. Their bedroom door creaked open and Alex walked through shoulder first to make sure he didn’t spill any of the burning liquid.
“Jack?” He asked softly, “You awake?”
The room was pitch black, the only source of light was the dim glow of the television that Jack usually forgot to turn off if he fell asleep.
“Yeah.” Came the reply, and Jack leant over to switch the table lamp on so that Alex could see what he was doing.
“Hey beautiful,” Alex spoke softly, setting down a mug beside Jack before walking around to his own side of the bed. “You alright, love?”
He began to undress himself, first tugging off his t-shirt, then he wiggled out of his jeans until his only attire was the pair of bright fuchsia boxers that Jack had bought him as part of his Christmas present last year.
As he slotted himself into their bed, Jack automatically wrapping an arm around Alex’s waist and pressing his nose into the boy’s chest. “Mm,” was the response, or maybe it was a “yes” that managed to get muffled.
“You sure?” Alex asked, and Jack gave a little nod.
Now this was always the part where Alex would explain to Jack what insane situation he’d put himself into this time.
Thankfully, it was only a car crash.
Alex was needed to help remove the injured passenger, the driver was already dead. It sickened Jack that all that was running through his head was, “At least Alex is still alive.” He forgets sometimes that those who die in the situations that Alex gets called to, they also have families. They probably have wives, husbands, mums, dads, you name it. But no, there goes selfish Jack thinking, “I’d rather their lover die than mine.”
That tore him apart sometimes, ate away at him and made him feel sick to his stomach. He hated Alex’s job, he hated how it made his other half feel like a super hero and that was the reason why he’d never quit. Why couldn’t his boy just have a normal job like any other human being? But then, you wonder why people would go out of their way to become a gynaecologist, or a librarian, or something else that’s either weird, or boring. Someone has to do it though.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alex asked once more, even giving the younger, seemingly dazed boy, a nudge in the hip.
“What is this, twenty questions?” Jack suddenly snapped, but at least it finally got his anger out of him. “Sorry, I just- I’ve been… worrying like usual.” He decided it would be best to not mention his inner thoughts, though he knew Alex would say he understood, he very much doubted he would.
But Alex sighed; he hated it when Jack got like this. The boy would torture himself within his mind, drive himself crazy with paranoia and persuade himself that something was wrong when in actual fact everything was perfectly a-ok. “Sh, Jack, come here,” Alex murmured into the boy’s hair, his arm snaking around Jack’s torso and settling on his waist. His fingers gently toyed with the waistband of Jack’s underwear as he pressed a kiss into the other’s hair. “I’ve told you over, and over, I’ll always be okay.” He tried to assure, but as he’d assumed, Jack wasn’t having any of it.
“I know, but what if something happens and you’re not?” Jack asked, and it was quite a fair question. “You can’t say you’ll be okay when you traipse through fucking fires for a living.” His voice was cold and bitter, not even Alex’s usual comforting hand was warming him inside. “I never know where you are or what you’re doing, so that’s why I worry.” Jack concluded with a huff.
“It’s probably because you’re tired-“
“No, Alex don’t even go there.” The younger male had sat himself back up again, Alex looking toward him with a confused facial expression. “The only reason I’m tired is because I find it so hard to be able to sleep not knowing where you are. You could be dead and I’d be none the wiser, just happily sleeping until I wake up to a call from the hospital asking me to come identify your fucking body.” Tears were beginning to prick in the corners of Jack’s eyes as he found himself growing more and more hurt rather than angry. “I hate it, Alex. And I know how much this job means to you, but I swear it’s starting to rip me apart. I don’t want to go back into a relapse, and I’m so scared that this will trigger it.”
See, Jack managed to overcome his self-harming addiction a year after him and Alex first got together. Alex pushed the boy to keep going into his therapy sessions, to keep taking the correct medication, and eventually it worked. He could become upset by something and not find help in the form of a blade, instead he’d usually turn to Alex and cry. But how could he use Alex as a shoulder to cry on when he was the problem?
“Don’t say that.” Alex said sharply, his eyes not able to look into Jack’s. “Don’t make me feel guilty for something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time now.”
At least it managed to shut Jack up. Well, it shut him up until he began to quietly sob. Alex was right after all; he had been making the other feel guilty when he had no reason to. Maybe it was Jack’s fault that he was too much of a baby to deal with all of it. A silly little wimp.
The younger boy slid down beneath the covers of the duvet as he sniffed, a little choked sob here and there as he turned his back to his boyfriend.
“Jack,” Alex whined, dragging out the ‘a’ like he usually did. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m tired too and I know it’s stressful but it’s the only way we can get a decent living. I know it isn’t ideal for you, sometimes I hate being on call too, especially because I miss out on our cosy nights in or our duvet days. I didn’t want it to be this way, but it has, so we just have to deal with it.”
Silence filled the air however as Jack pretended that he was asleep, as if Alex’s speech was just wasted on him. It wasn’t though, ‘cause Jack heard every word and they sunk into his skin right through to his bones. He was only upset because he was far too in love with Alex for his own good.
“I love you.” Alex eventually sighed as he settled his head back on the pillow. He knew that Jack could hear him. He could tell by the way Jack’s fingers tightened around his arm that he’d laced over his stomach. He needn’t hear Jack say, “I love you, too.” he knew purely by those small reactions.
- - - -
The morning was stressful. It seemed Jack was still annoyed with Alex talking back at him last night, but this time he could blame his foul mood on his tiredness.
It was six a.m and he’d fallen asleep at about half one. Therefore adding up to four and a half hours sleep, something that was certainly not enough for a schoolteacher having to deal with bratty kids every single day.
Jack pulled a disgusted face in the mirror as his index finger traced the bags beneath his eyes. He was looking worse for wear and he wondered if anybody had taken any notice. Probably not.
His eyes cast over to Alex as he lie sprawled on their mattress. The duvet was falling off his body and Jack to it upon himself to lift it off and reposition it so that it didn’t expose any skin. Alex looked beautiful and so peaceful, he hadn’t the heart to wake him just to say goodbye. What difference would it make anyway? His job wasn’t like Alex’s; he knew that he’d be coming home later. At least he thought he would.
Knotting his tie up to his fastened top button, Jack glanced at himself in the mirror. He forced a smile to see if he could disguise this mixture of fatigue and hurt. It looked sufficient; he could get away with it as long as nobody asked him questions.
Jack pulled on his jacket and then slipped on his hi-tops.
Odd, I know, hi-tops for work. However, these weren’t meant for prancing about in the halls with, they were for an entirely different reason.
‘Cause Jack never passed his driving licence, the thought of himself in a car scared him shitless. He panicked enough when Alex took the wheel, let alone if he ever tried. No doubt he’d crash anyway, so right now he was quite happy with his bike.
That was a lie actually. Jack hated his bike, he thought it was ridiculous. Alex liked to poke fun out of him for it, saying that it “should belong to an old man!” and other pointless remarks just to wind him up. Jack was just thankful the kids at school never saw him on it, he would never be able to live it down, and that was why he often arrived half an hour early so he could quickly lock it up and settle down for a coffee to get his brain in gear.
Before Jack left, he made sure to creep over to Alex’s side and press a kiss against his cheek, then his forehead, and then his lips. He whispered a, “Sorry for last night.” before slinging his rucksack on his back, making his way out of their bedroom, down the stairs and out of the house.
He pushed his bike out of their garden gate, balanced it on the path, then with one foot on a pedal he hoisted himself up to get himself on his way. It was the familiar path he knew well, he should be there in no time.
But Jack never made it to the school.
He’d turned his last corner and was approaching the large building when he heard the sound of a shout and the roar of a moped behind him.
As he turned his head to see the commotion a man in a balaclava sped by him, grabbing his rucksack in the process.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the rucksack wasn’t still on Jack’s back.
The boy was thrown forward, his foot caught in the pedal and a sickening crack filled the air as his ankle snapped. But that wasn’t all, because as the thief sped off with the mere few belongings in his bag, Jack was left with so much more.
He toppled over the handlebars, his forehead slamming to the pavement with the full force of his body behind him. Blood pooled around him, the sticky liquid filling Jack with nausea. It wasn’t the only pain, though.
As Jack’s vision clouded over, darkness consuming him whilst the sounds of police sirens whirred around him, his back was in agony. And he only just managed to hear the voice of a pedestrian in horror scream, “He’s been stabbed!” before his eyelids grew heavy. Hey, sleep sounded good right now. Maybe he could just forget all this for a little while. He’ll wake up soon.
And he’ll see Alex, and Alex will tell him he’ll be okay.
Or maybe he’s not falling asleep, maybe this is waking up like in that Doctor Who episode with the Dream Lord.
This wasn’t a fictional tv series though. This was real and Jack wasn’t waking up.
It seemed the knife was the cause of the blackout, but the doctors confirmed that where Jack’s head collided with the pavement, the trauma had caused him to slip into a coma.
Nobody knew when Jack would wake up.
If he woke up.
And then there was Alex. Waking up to a call from the hospital telling him that his fiancé was in the intensive care unit after being mugged. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If anything, if it had to happen then surely it should be him sunken into that medical bed. Not Jack. What did Jack ever do to deserve this? Nothing, that’s what.
And for some reason, Alex felt himself to be the blame.
Maybe this was his punishment for yelling at Jack last night, or for worrying the boy every single day to the point where he wanted to glide that razorblade across his skin to feel some comfort.
Maybe this was fate causing him all the hurt he’d caused to Jack without realising it.
Author: Harriet, a.k.a masokisstiic
Rating: R
Pairing: Alex and Jack, if the kids don't believe, make them believe.
POV: Third
Summary: So it's true what they say, if you love someone, you should set them free.
Disclaimer: Totally fictional, soz.
Credit: Title to YouMeAtSix
A/N: So this is the final chapter, and if you read the prologue then you'll have an idea of what's going to happen. The epilogue will come soon to finally put an end to this story once and for all. I hope this doesn't disappoint.
Tumblr.
Masterpost.
Jack finally managed to get himself up to bed at eleven o’clock, he made a mental note to go to sleep, but it seemed his own brain had torn it up. He settled for putting in a DVD, a comedy in a hope to make himself laugh, to make himself forget. It didn’t exactly do the trick, but at least it passed the time for now Jack was sat up in bed and waiting for Alex to come in with the tea.
He glanced toward the clock to see that it was half one in the morning, he should be asleep but alas he was wide-awake. It was difficult to fall asleep without Alex, though sometimes he managed, it seemed tonight was one of those nights where it was impossible. You can’t even begin to imagine the relief that flooded Jack’s blood as he had heard their front door unlock and those familiar, large boots stepping onto the landing and into the hallway. It was always the same routine with Alex when he came home; this was how Jack managed to make sure that it was him.
First he’d track mud and dirt through the hallway, kick off his shoes, and then he’d proceed to throw his coat onto the kitchen table and switch the kettle on. He’d always make two mugs of tea even if Jack was asleep, Alex would just drink it for him. It was always a “just in case” type of thing.
Letting out a yawn, he listened to the older boy’s footsteps as he slowly and carefully made his way up the stairs. Their bedroom door creaked open and Alex walked through shoulder first to make sure he didn’t spill any of the burning liquid.
“Jack?” He asked softly, “You awake?”
The room was pitch black, the only source of light was the dim glow of the television that Jack usually forgot to turn off if he fell asleep.
“Yeah.” Came the reply, and Jack leant over to switch the table lamp on so that Alex could see what he was doing.
“Hey beautiful,” Alex spoke softly, setting down a mug beside Jack before walking around to his own side of the bed. “You alright, love?”
He began to undress himself, first tugging off his t-shirt, then he wiggled out of his jeans until his only attire was the pair of bright fuchsia boxers that Jack had bought him as part of his Christmas present last year.
As he slotted himself into their bed, Jack automatically wrapping an arm around Alex’s waist and pressing his nose into the boy’s chest. “Mm,” was the response, or maybe it was a “yes” that managed to get muffled.
“You sure?” Alex asked, and Jack gave a little nod.
Now this was always the part where Alex would explain to Jack what insane situation he’d put himself into this time.
Thankfully, it was only a car crash.
Alex was needed to help remove the injured passenger, the driver was already dead. It sickened Jack that all that was running through his head was, “At least Alex is still alive.” He forgets sometimes that those who die in the situations that Alex gets called to, they also have families. They probably have wives, husbands, mums, dads, you name it. But no, there goes selfish Jack thinking, “I’d rather their lover die than mine.”
That tore him apart sometimes, ate away at him and made him feel sick to his stomach. He hated Alex’s job, he hated how it made his other half feel like a super hero and that was the reason why he’d never quit. Why couldn’t his boy just have a normal job like any other human being? But then, you wonder why people would go out of their way to become a gynaecologist, or a librarian, or something else that’s either weird, or boring. Someone has to do it though.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alex asked once more, even giving the younger, seemingly dazed boy, a nudge in the hip.
“What is this, twenty questions?” Jack suddenly snapped, but at least it finally got his anger out of him. “Sorry, I just- I’ve been… worrying like usual.” He decided it would be best to not mention his inner thoughts, though he knew Alex would say he understood, he very much doubted he would.
But Alex sighed; he hated it when Jack got like this. The boy would torture himself within his mind, drive himself crazy with paranoia and persuade himself that something was wrong when in actual fact everything was perfectly a-ok. “Sh, Jack, come here,” Alex murmured into the boy’s hair, his arm snaking around Jack’s torso and settling on his waist. His fingers gently toyed with the waistband of Jack’s underwear as he pressed a kiss into the other’s hair. “I’ve told you over, and over, I’ll always be okay.” He tried to assure, but as he’d assumed, Jack wasn’t having any of it.
“I know, but what if something happens and you’re not?” Jack asked, and it was quite a fair question. “You can’t say you’ll be okay when you traipse through fucking fires for a living.” His voice was cold and bitter, not even Alex’s usual comforting hand was warming him inside. “I never know where you are or what you’re doing, so that’s why I worry.” Jack concluded with a huff.
“It’s probably because you’re tired-“
“No, Alex don’t even go there.” The younger male had sat himself back up again, Alex looking toward him with a confused facial expression. “The only reason I’m tired is because I find it so hard to be able to sleep not knowing where you are. You could be dead and I’d be none the wiser, just happily sleeping until I wake up to a call from the hospital asking me to come identify your fucking body.” Tears were beginning to prick in the corners of Jack’s eyes as he found himself growing more and more hurt rather than angry. “I hate it, Alex. And I know how much this job means to you, but I swear it’s starting to rip me apart. I don’t want to go back into a relapse, and I’m so scared that this will trigger it.”
See, Jack managed to overcome his self-harming addiction a year after him and Alex first got together. Alex pushed the boy to keep going into his therapy sessions, to keep taking the correct medication, and eventually it worked. He could become upset by something and not find help in the form of a blade, instead he’d usually turn to Alex and cry. But how could he use Alex as a shoulder to cry on when he was the problem?
“Don’t say that.” Alex said sharply, his eyes not able to look into Jack’s. “Don’t make me feel guilty for something that I’ve wanted to do for a long time now.”
At least it managed to shut Jack up. Well, it shut him up until he began to quietly sob. Alex was right after all; he had been making the other feel guilty when he had no reason to. Maybe it was Jack’s fault that he was too much of a baby to deal with all of it. A silly little wimp.
The younger boy slid down beneath the covers of the duvet as he sniffed, a little choked sob here and there as he turned his back to his boyfriend.
“Jack,” Alex whined, dragging out the ‘a’ like he usually did. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m tired too and I know it’s stressful but it’s the only way we can get a decent living. I know it isn’t ideal for you, sometimes I hate being on call too, especially because I miss out on our cosy nights in or our duvet days. I didn’t want it to be this way, but it has, so we just have to deal with it.”
Silence filled the air however as Jack pretended that he was asleep, as if Alex’s speech was just wasted on him. It wasn’t though, ‘cause Jack heard every word and they sunk into his skin right through to his bones. He was only upset because he was far too in love with Alex for his own good.
“I love you.” Alex eventually sighed as he settled his head back on the pillow. He knew that Jack could hear him. He could tell by the way Jack’s fingers tightened around his arm that he’d laced over his stomach. He needn’t hear Jack say, “I love you, too.” he knew purely by those small reactions.
- - - -
The morning was stressful. It seemed Jack was still annoyed with Alex talking back at him last night, but this time he could blame his foul mood on his tiredness.
It was six a.m and he’d fallen asleep at about half one. Therefore adding up to four and a half hours sleep, something that was certainly not enough for a schoolteacher having to deal with bratty kids every single day.
Jack pulled a disgusted face in the mirror as his index finger traced the bags beneath his eyes. He was looking worse for wear and he wondered if anybody had taken any notice. Probably not.
His eyes cast over to Alex as he lie sprawled on their mattress. The duvet was falling off his body and Jack to it upon himself to lift it off and reposition it so that it didn’t expose any skin. Alex looked beautiful and so peaceful, he hadn’t the heart to wake him just to say goodbye. What difference would it make anyway? His job wasn’t like Alex’s; he knew that he’d be coming home later. At least he thought he would.
Knotting his tie up to his fastened top button, Jack glanced at himself in the mirror. He forced a smile to see if he could disguise this mixture of fatigue and hurt. It looked sufficient; he could get away with it as long as nobody asked him questions.
Jack pulled on his jacket and then slipped on his hi-tops.
Odd, I know, hi-tops for work. However, these weren’t meant for prancing about in the halls with, they were for an entirely different reason.
‘Cause Jack never passed his driving licence, the thought of himself in a car scared him shitless. He panicked enough when Alex took the wheel, let alone if he ever tried. No doubt he’d crash anyway, so right now he was quite happy with his bike.
That was a lie actually. Jack hated his bike, he thought it was ridiculous. Alex liked to poke fun out of him for it, saying that it “should belong to an old man!” and other pointless remarks just to wind him up. Jack was just thankful the kids at school never saw him on it, he would never be able to live it down, and that was why he often arrived half an hour early so he could quickly lock it up and settle down for a coffee to get his brain in gear.
Before Jack left, he made sure to creep over to Alex’s side and press a kiss against his cheek, then his forehead, and then his lips. He whispered a, “Sorry for last night.” before slinging his rucksack on his back, making his way out of their bedroom, down the stairs and out of the house.
He pushed his bike out of their garden gate, balanced it on the path, then with one foot on a pedal he hoisted himself up to get himself on his way. It was the familiar path he knew well, he should be there in no time.
But Jack never made it to the school.
He’d turned his last corner and was approaching the large building when he heard the sound of a shout and the roar of a moped behind him.
As he turned his head to see the commotion a man in a balaclava sped by him, grabbing his rucksack in the process.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the rucksack wasn’t still on Jack’s back.
The boy was thrown forward, his foot caught in the pedal and a sickening crack filled the air as his ankle snapped. But that wasn’t all, because as the thief sped off with the mere few belongings in his bag, Jack was left with so much more.
He toppled over the handlebars, his forehead slamming to the pavement with the full force of his body behind him. Blood pooled around him, the sticky liquid filling Jack with nausea. It wasn’t the only pain, though.
As Jack’s vision clouded over, darkness consuming him whilst the sounds of police sirens whirred around him, his back was in agony. And he only just managed to hear the voice of a pedestrian in horror scream, “He’s been stabbed!” before his eyelids grew heavy. Hey, sleep sounded good right now. Maybe he could just forget all this for a little while. He’ll wake up soon.
And he’ll see Alex, and Alex will tell him he’ll be okay.
Or maybe he’s not falling asleep, maybe this is waking up like in that Doctor Who episode with the Dream Lord.
This wasn’t a fictional tv series though. This was real and Jack wasn’t waking up.
It seemed the knife was the cause of the blackout, but the doctors confirmed that where Jack’s head collided with the pavement, the trauma had caused him to slip into a coma.
Nobody knew when Jack would wake up.
If he woke up.
And then there was Alex. Waking up to a call from the hospital telling him that his fiancé was in the intensive care unit after being mugged. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If anything, if it had to happen then surely it should be him sunken into that medical bed. Not Jack. What did Jack ever do to deserve this? Nothing, that’s what.
And for some reason, Alex felt himself to be the blame.
Maybe this was his punishment for yelling at Jack last night, or for worrying the boy every single day to the point where he wanted to glide that razorblade across his skin to feel some comfort.
Maybe this was fate causing him all the hurt he’d caused to Jack without realising it.