(no subject)
Title: It's Only You, Beautiful (Chapter 12)
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Disclaimer: Not true
Rating: PG
Summary: HS fic
Dedication: elleheartsyou because she, in a way, inspired me to actually write this chapter. Everybody, go thank her.
Notes: I think that you should all leave me a review if you read because this came in one day. I never do that. Hahah. Ok. I love you even if you don't. <3 Other chapters are on my LJ by the way.
Ch. 12 -
You’ve resumed the position of a curled up ball, as much as you can, since you can’t get your body to move without it protesting and ending up making you cry out from the pain. Everything is killing you, the way you can’t seem to stop the tears from falling because as much as you try to deny it…Tony did mean something to you. Or the way your body is burning from the physical abuse it was put in.
It wasn’t enough for them to rape you and leave you dying on the bed, no; they had to make you a public embarrassment as well. The door’s wide open and you can hear the raucous snickers through it as well as the hushed gasps as people take in your violated form. Right now, it doesn’t mean anything to you because you’re in too much anguish and pain, but later on, it’ll all hit you and make everything a million times worse.
You blink your eyes open once or twice but immediately shut them again when you see that there are a few daring ones who ventured inside and next to you. One of them prods you gently in the shoulder, but you ignore it, until he’s done it six times, forcing you to open your eyes and stare at him through wet eyes.
He’s tall and good looking; you think you’ve seen him around the school, maybe even in one of your classes. Dark brown hair curls around his ears and his eyes are hidden behind a type of framed glasses that would definitely classify as emo.
“Hey…are you okay kid?”
You want to snort and laugh in his face, and give him a dumb reply to match his dumb question. Maybe something like the reply Tony gave to you when you asked him the other day.
But you’re not naturally rude, especially to nice strangers who seem to just want to help. Hey, that’s what you thought Tony was doing…you’re always wrong though. Instead you shake your head softy and go back to closing your eyes tightly.
You hear him sigh softly, air rushing smoothly from pursed lips, and you feel a soft material covering you up to your shoulders as he covers your naked body with a blanket.
“You’re Craig’s little brother right?”
At this question, you nod slightly, opening your eyes to blink at him, silently pleading with him to make things better. At the moment the only way he could do that, is by getting Craig for you. Ever since you were very young, you had always turned to him to make things better again. Things don’t change much you guess.
There’s the sound of him telling one of his friend’s to close the door and even with the blanket, you’re still trembling and shaking uncontrollably. He notices it and reaches a hand forward to rub at your shoulder gently.
“Shh…I’m going to get him for you. Sit tight…” He tells you, talking softly and comfortingly.
For a reason unknown even to yourself, you find yourself reaching for him and shaking your head, tears jumping once more to your eyes. It’s not that you don’t want Craig, you don’t want this…stranger to leave just yet. There’s something about him that you take comfort in. Not a lot, but enough that you don’t want him to go.
His face crinkles up into a frown and his eyebrows rise to question you silently.
You try your best to ease your voice out of your mouth, but it’s hard and all you can get is an odd croak. Your eyes stay on his, teeth biting into your lips, while you try desperately to get him to understand.
“Do you want Craig to come?” He asks, not knowing why you can’t talk but understanding that you can’t. It occurs to you that you might come off as mute, but that doesn’t matter right now.
You nod softly, still holding onto his hand, and still trying to fight the tears that continue to fall.
His eyes drift to your hand clenching onto his shirt’s sleeve.
“Should I wait for you and send someone to find him?” He’s asking but at the same time, motioning at one of his friends to go down.
You don’t bother with a response other than closing your eyes, feeling the moisture leak out once more and you don’t think you’ll ever be better. He doesn’t say anything to you but him, just being there, provides you with some consolation, even if you’re not sure why.
The door bangs open, causing your eyelids to flutter open and for you to jolt against the bed with fright, thinking with mad panic that Matt was back again. You want to hit yourself for still only blaming Matt and not Tony, who was quite obviously the main accomplice in the whole scheme. It’s as if you’re still giving him a chance to be the good guy, your angel, when that is not the case, obviously.
Your eyes come to rest on Craig’s agape mouth after you’re done wincing from the mild panic attack you put yourself through.
Open your own mouth again to try to speak, finally coming up with a weak, “Craig…” before choking up and being unable to continue. In an eye’s blink he’s by your side, grasping at your shoulders, making you cry out from the pain that digs through your body from the sudden movement.
His eyes are on yours before traveling down your body, taking in the blood stained sheets that are also covered with Tony’s bodily fluid. They come back to meet up with yours, which are half closed, brimming over with mixed feelings of anger and vengeance.
They’ve started to water up a bit and he’s licking at his lips, a nervous habit he picked up.
“Jess…we gotta get out here. Come on,” he tells you, his voice sounds the weakest you’ve ever heard it. Tired and weak and you want to kill yourself for causing him to feel this way.
He reaches forward to try to pull you up, but you struggle in protest, already feeling the pain start to rack against your limbs. You shake your head, eyes meeting his in desperation, knowing that you can’t walk. And it’ll be almost impossible to get up.
He watches you and you see his eyes start to cloud with hopelessness as he turns to your helpful stranger.
“John, we have to get him up and out. He can’t stay here…” Despite what he looks like, Craig’s voice sounds determinedly set.
You watch John nod and crawl onto the bed behind you.
“I’ll lift him from behind so that he doesn’t put too much pressure on anything while getting up. Go in front and get ready to hold onto him from the front.”
Your mind is in a whirl still and the words escape you because now you’re thinking about all the places you went with Tony. You’re thinking about the way the sun rays caught the blonde in his hair and the way his eyes sparkled at you when the both of you were laughing about something. It’s not like you want to think about it because it’s causing your chest to contract and hurt. But you can’t stop…it’s like a Tony overload.
You do, however, moan out in pain when John hooks his hands under your arms forcing you up and into Craig’s open ones that end up clinging you to him. Again, John’s there to place one of your arms around his shoulder and pull the blanket tighter across your torso. With your weight distributed between the both of them, they pull you forward across the room, ignoring your pathetic pleas to put you down because every time they move, another jolt of pain shoots up your spine.
Your mental pain by far out powers the physical as you’re still crying out hopelessly and images of Tony are still going through your head and you’ve never felt so worthless in your entire life.
Close your eyes, unwilling to see the curious glances and stares that people you don’t even know are giving you as you’re pulled down the stairs and out of the front door. The door that you once thought meant freedom, it isn’t though. There is no way out of this hell of a life, you’re stuck for good. You realize that now and again you whimper out.
You don’t recognize the blue car that you’re pushed into, but the pain that once again attacks you is starting to become all too familiar and right now, familiarity is not a favorite of yours. Craig sits in the back with you, holding your head in his lap, stroking your hair back and whispering words of comfort to you. He’s trying so hard and you wish that he would be able to have his desired effect on you, which is to make you feel better, but he doesn’t.
Everything all still hurts too much and you want it all to go away. It won’t though…your life has never gone in the direction you wanted it to go. All it does is go through strange shortcuts and crossroads where you choose the wrong turn, and ultimately making it even worse than before.
---
Notes: I couldn't resist not putting John there. I had to, hope you understand.
Pairing: Tony/Jesse
Disclaimer: Not true
Rating: PG
Summary: HS fic
Dedication: elleheartsyou because she, in a way, inspired me to actually write this chapter. Everybody, go thank her.
Notes: I think that you should all leave me a review if you read because this came in one day. I never do that. Hahah. Ok. I love you even if you don't. <3 Other chapters are on my LJ by the way.
Ch. 12 -
You’ve resumed the position of a curled up ball, as much as you can, since you can’t get your body to move without it protesting and ending up making you cry out from the pain. Everything is killing you, the way you can’t seem to stop the tears from falling because as much as you try to deny it…Tony did mean something to you. Or the way your body is burning from the physical abuse it was put in.
It wasn’t enough for them to rape you and leave you dying on the bed, no; they had to make you a public embarrassment as well. The door’s wide open and you can hear the raucous snickers through it as well as the hushed gasps as people take in your violated form. Right now, it doesn’t mean anything to you because you’re in too much anguish and pain, but later on, it’ll all hit you and make everything a million times worse.
You blink your eyes open once or twice but immediately shut them again when you see that there are a few daring ones who ventured inside and next to you. One of them prods you gently in the shoulder, but you ignore it, until he’s done it six times, forcing you to open your eyes and stare at him through wet eyes.
He’s tall and good looking; you think you’ve seen him around the school, maybe even in one of your classes. Dark brown hair curls around his ears and his eyes are hidden behind a type of framed glasses that would definitely classify as emo.
“Hey…are you okay kid?”
You want to snort and laugh in his face, and give him a dumb reply to match his dumb question. Maybe something like the reply Tony gave to you when you asked him the other day.
But you’re not naturally rude, especially to nice strangers who seem to just want to help. Hey, that’s what you thought Tony was doing…you’re always wrong though. Instead you shake your head softy and go back to closing your eyes tightly.
You hear him sigh softly, air rushing smoothly from pursed lips, and you feel a soft material covering you up to your shoulders as he covers your naked body with a blanket.
“You’re Craig’s little brother right?”
At this question, you nod slightly, opening your eyes to blink at him, silently pleading with him to make things better. At the moment the only way he could do that, is by getting Craig for you. Ever since you were very young, you had always turned to him to make things better again. Things don’t change much you guess.
There’s the sound of him telling one of his friend’s to close the door and even with the blanket, you’re still trembling and shaking uncontrollably. He notices it and reaches a hand forward to rub at your shoulder gently.
“Shh…I’m going to get him for you. Sit tight…” He tells you, talking softly and comfortingly.
For a reason unknown even to yourself, you find yourself reaching for him and shaking your head, tears jumping once more to your eyes. It’s not that you don’t want Craig, you don’t want this…stranger to leave just yet. There’s something about him that you take comfort in. Not a lot, but enough that you don’t want him to go.
His face crinkles up into a frown and his eyebrows rise to question you silently.
You try your best to ease your voice out of your mouth, but it’s hard and all you can get is an odd croak. Your eyes stay on his, teeth biting into your lips, while you try desperately to get him to understand.
“Do you want Craig to come?” He asks, not knowing why you can’t talk but understanding that you can’t. It occurs to you that you might come off as mute, but that doesn’t matter right now.
You nod softly, still holding onto his hand, and still trying to fight the tears that continue to fall.
His eyes drift to your hand clenching onto his shirt’s sleeve.
“Should I wait for you and send someone to find him?” He’s asking but at the same time, motioning at one of his friends to go down.
You don’t bother with a response other than closing your eyes, feeling the moisture leak out once more and you don’t think you’ll ever be better. He doesn’t say anything to you but him, just being there, provides you with some consolation, even if you’re not sure why.
The door bangs open, causing your eyelids to flutter open and for you to jolt against the bed with fright, thinking with mad panic that Matt was back again. You want to hit yourself for still only blaming Matt and not Tony, who was quite obviously the main accomplice in the whole scheme. It’s as if you’re still giving him a chance to be the good guy, your angel, when that is not the case, obviously.
Your eyes come to rest on Craig’s agape mouth after you’re done wincing from the mild panic attack you put yourself through.
Open your own mouth again to try to speak, finally coming up with a weak, “Craig…” before choking up and being unable to continue. In an eye’s blink he’s by your side, grasping at your shoulders, making you cry out from the pain that digs through your body from the sudden movement.
His eyes are on yours before traveling down your body, taking in the blood stained sheets that are also covered with Tony’s bodily fluid. They come back to meet up with yours, which are half closed, brimming over with mixed feelings of anger and vengeance.
They’ve started to water up a bit and he’s licking at his lips, a nervous habit he picked up.
“Jess…we gotta get out here. Come on,” he tells you, his voice sounds the weakest you’ve ever heard it. Tired and weak and you want to kill yourself for causing him to feel this way.
He reaches forward to try to pull you up, but you struggle in protest, already feeling the pain start to rack against your limbs. You shake your head, eyes meeting his in desperation, knowing that you can’t walk. And it’ll be almost impossible to get up.
He watches you and you see his eyes start to cloud with hopelessness as he turns to your helpful stranger.
“John, we have to get him up and out. He can’t stay here…” Despite what he looks like, Craig’s voice sounds determinedly set.
You watch John nod and crawl onto the bed behind you.
“I’ll lift him from behind so that he doesn’t put too much pressure on anything while getting up. Go in front and get ready to hold onto him from the front.”
Your mind is in a whirl still and the words escape you because now you’re thinking about all the places you went with Tony. You’re thinking about the way the sun rays caught the blonde in his hair and the way his eyes sparkled at you when the both of you were laughing about something. It’s not like you want to think about it because it’s causing your chest to contract and hurt. But you can’t stop…it’s like a Tony overload.
You do, however, moan out in pain when John hooks his hands under your arms forcing you up and into Craig’s open ones that end up clinging you to him. Again, John’s there to place one of your arms around his shoulder and pull the blanket tighter across your torso. With your weight distributed between the both of them, they pull you forward across the room, ignoring your pathetic pleas to put you down because every time they move, another jolt of pain shoots up your spine.
Your mental pain by far out powers the physical as you’re still crying out hopelessly and images of Tony are still going through your head and you’ve never felt so worthless in your entire life.
Close your eyes, unwilling to see the curious glances and stares that people you don’t even know are giving you as you’re pulled down the stairs and out of the front door. The door that you once thought meant freedom, it isn’t though. There is no way out of this hell of a life, you’re stuck for good. You realize that now and again you whimper out.
You don’t recognize the blue car that you’re pushed into, but the pain that once again attacks you is starting to become all too familiar and right now, familiarity is not a favorite of yours. Craig sits in the back with you, holding your head in his lap, stroking your hair back and whispering words of comfort to you. He’s trying so hard and you wish that he would be able to have his desired effect on you, which is to make you feel better, but he doesn’t.
Everything all still hurts too much and you want it all to go away. It won’t though…your life has never gone in the direction you wanted it to go. All it does is go through strange shortcuts and crossroads where you choose the wrong turn, and ultimately making it even worse than before.
---
Notes: I couldn't resist not putting John there. I had to, hope you understand.