Don't Make This Easy (Chapter 19)
Title: Don't Make This Easy
Author: sherrycookies
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/ Jack Barakat
Rating: R
Summary: Alex is the new tutor at a new job in a new place far from home in Victorian England. What happens when he starts to get unwanted feelings toward his new master?
Disclaimer: I don't own All Time Low, blah blah blah.
Alex awoke the next morning. He sat up, shaking sleep from his head. Today was the day he was supposed to go see his father, whom he hadn’t seen for a year.
He hadn’t even changed his clothing from the day before. Digging around his bag, he found a new shirt and quickly changed. Locating a small mirror, he brushed his hair with his fingers. Then he left in search of food.
There was no food in the house; no one had lived there for a year. He decided to head into town to buy some instead.
The town was already bustling with activity. There were children running around, parents heading to work, and vendors selling whatever one needed. He stopped at one old lady and bought a piece of bread, smiling at the woman.
“Good morning, dear. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new here?” She asked, handing him some bread.
“Yes and no. I grew up here, but I moved away. Now I’m back,” he answered.
“Oh really? What’s your name?”
“Alex Gaskarth,” he saw her eyebrows go up. “Tom’s younger brother.”
“So you’re Tom’s brother,” she said, tapping a finger against her chin. “I was wondering where the last Gaskarth boy went. I’m sorry about your loss,” she smiled with sympathy. “What are you doing back here?”
“My father-”
“Didn’t he go to jail? It’s a shame, really.”
“He’s dying.”
“He is? Oh, Peter…” her voice trailed off. “And your mother too. So you’re the last one?”
She said it like he was an animal. “Yeah. I’m all alone now.”
“You said you moved away. Where?”
“I work as a tutor now in a home near London.”
“That’s great!” She smiled. “Oh, dear me, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Mrs. Fairfax. My son and I were close to your brother. I knew he had a sibling, I just never met him. Nice to meet you, Alex. Where are you going now?”
He had finished his food. “I’m going to the prison now to see my father.”
She nodded. “Give him my best wishes and good luck to you too.”
After he said goodbye to Mrs. Fairfax, he headed back to the place where he was dropped off the previous day to find that the carriage was waiting for him. He climbed inside and told the man his destination. After the driver snapped his reins, he settled in for the two hour trip.
He carefully thought about what he would say to his dad once he saw him. Was “hey Dad, I missed you” too cheesy? What about “I know it’s been a while, but I still love you”? What if his dad didn’t even want to see him? What if he didn’t even remember him? What if he was already dead? He chewed his lip. What if he couldn’t even mend the broken relationship between them?
Alex always did have a bad habit of overthinking things. He managed to worry himself the whole two hours.
When he arrived, he hopped outside and paid the man again. “Stay here,” he ordered him.
The prison wasn’t a large one. It was made of gray stone and looked more like a medieval castle than a jail. It was surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Two armed men guarded the entrance.
He tried to confidently walk up to the guards and show them the letter. “I’m here to see my father.” Did his voice really shake that much?
One nodded and stepped aside. “Please enter.”
He hurried inside and was met with another man. He was tough and muscular, no doubt the groundskeeper. “Visitor?”
Alex nodded meekly.
“Name of prisoner you’d like to see?”
“Peter Gaskarth.”
He looked Alex up and down. “Ah. You must be his son Alexander. Right this way, sir.”
He led Alex deeper into the prison. He led him past cells and cells of inmates, many of which stared as he passed. He tried not to look back at them. He heard a collection of horrifying sounds: profanities, yelling, screaming, crazed laughter, and crying. This was quite literally, hell on earth.
Finally both arrived at a larger cell, with a figure lying in the cot. “Hey, Gaskarth. You have a visitor,” the man said to the person in the cell. He unlocked the door and pushed Alex inside. “Try not to be long, okay?” He said to him.
As the man closed the cell door, Alex’s father spoke. “A visitor? Who could it be?”
“Dad? It’s your son,” Alex softly, inching closer to his bed. “Remember me?”
“My son? Tom?” Alex watched as his confused eyes focused on him. “Tom! I thought you were dead!”
“N-no, Dad,” he stammered. “It’s me, Alex.”
His father had certainly changed from when he last saw him. He had grown old and frail. Being in jail had aged him quite a bit. His hair was graying and wrinkles had appeared on his face. “Alex? Alexander? No! I don’t want to see YOU. Where is Tom?”
“Tom is dead, Father. Don’t you remember?” He pleaded. “I’m the only one left.”
He huffed, turning away. “No, it can’t be.” He turned back to his son. “You’re Alex.”
“Yes,” he said nervously. “Dad, I’m so sorry, for everything. For hating you, for leaving you, just EVERYTHING. I wish I had been a better son to you. I’m sorry.”
“’Sorry’s’ don’t do anything. They can’t bring back my son or my wife. All I’m left with is you.” He glared at him. “I wish you were the one who died, not Tom. Tom was a good son; much better than you. He was strong and tough, unlike you, you little bitch.”
That stung. A lot. “Y-you don’t mean that, Dad.”
“I mean every word of it. You were and still are weak and spineless. You always needed someone to defend you, and Tom was there. You were the cause of his death.”
“Y-you-” Alex couldn’t even speak right now. He felt like he was hearing all the wrong things. His father did have a point though, he was literally a child, how could he be tough? He was always the nice kid that everybody picked on until he cried. His brother had loved him enough to defend him from the bullies.
The fact that he was the reason for his brother’s death wasn’t a new concept for him. He always did have a bad habit for blaming himself for everything; including death. He felt like, maybe if he were a better brother and didn’t take him for granted so much, Tom would still be alive. But no one had ever voiced this fear. Nobody.
“What? Are you going to cry? You make me-” jus then he was interrupted by a coughing fit. “You make me sick. Leave,” he barely choked out the last word before he began to cough violently. A few minutes later, he had fully exhausted himself and his eyes began to close.
Alex, being the bigger man here, still wanted to mend his broken relationship, despite everything. He leaned forward, trying to press a kiss to his dying father’s cheek.
At the last moment, his father turned away. “Get the fuck away from me.”
He sighed and pulled away. “Goodbye, Dad,” he murmured.
A few hours later, he was lounging in his old bedroom, back on the mattress and feet propped up against the wall. He had a pillow pressed against his face. Alex was crying.
He had suppressed his tears for a few hours now, for risk of anyone seeing him weep in public. He was actually used to hiding his feelings; he had been doing it for years.
Had he really been the reason his brother took his own life? It seemed a little far-fetched, and if Jack was there he’d say that he certainly wasn’t. He was probably too young to pay too much attention to his mental health the last few months he was alive, and if he had paid attention he would have realized that it was deteriorating. What did he know about depression when he was ten?
What he knew now was how terrifying it really is. To best describe it, it’s like drowning, but seeing everyone around you breathing. It was like a pitch black tunnel with no end.
But he had found someone to help cope with it. He had never really told his boyfriend too much about his mental issues, but being with him enough was helping him. Jack was like his life preserver, his light at the end of the tunnel. His lover would never truly know how much he meant to him.
He hadn’t felt the usual drowning feeling in months now, but it was back with a vengeance. Coupled with it was an anxiety attack. He hadn’t felt this bad in ages.
He wished Jack was with him. He wanted Jack to be hugging and kissing him, telling him everything will be okay. His boyfriend was the only person that made his anxiety attacks go away, and stay away. Only Jack had no idea that he could do that. Jack thought of himself as just Alex’s boyfriend, not the reason he was still alive.
Even though it was late afternoon, Alex was exhausted. He pulled the covers up to his chin and removed his pillow, settling on hugging it instead, pretending it was his lover.
He reached for his book and fumbled with the pages, trying to find a note. He finally found one near the end of the book, and struggled to open it. Through his tear-blurred eyes, he read it.
Don’t miss me too much. Pretend I’m right there with you when you go to sleep, because I know I’ll be doing to same. Remember that I love you, and that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I cannot even explain how much I love you, and you know I’m not a sappy romantic person. It already feels weird writing these little notes, because I’m not sure what your reaction will be to them. Maybe you’ll laugh and think I’m a clingy idiot, or maybe you’ll actually like them, I don’t know. But I do know that I love you, and that I’ve said that three times already, counting this time. Don’t focus on the people that try to put you down, because they don’t matter. Remember everyone who cares about you, because I know that Cassadee, Rian, Maria, Wendy, Zack, and I love you very much. We’ll all be awaiting your arrival back home. I love you.
Five confessions of my love in one letter at once? That must be a record. Haha, I’m not funny.
Alex pressed the letter to his chest, not caring if he looked like an idiot. That was the sweetest thing anybody had every written to him, and butterflies fluttered into his chest. Mind at ease, he drifted off to sleep.
He was awakened by loud knocking on his front door. He stumbled, half asleep to the door and flung it open, blinking at the weak sunlight that penetrated the clouds.
Standing there was a man that he had never seen before. “Telegram for Mr. Gaskarth,” he said.
Alex took the letter and thanked the man before shutting the door. He rubbed his eyes and tore open the envelope.
Dear Alexander William Gaskarth,
We regret to inform you that your father passed away at midnight. You are welcome to attend his burial in the prison cemetery this afternoon.
Alex stood by his father’s grave. The sun had completely vanished and a cold drizzle had begun to fall. He wore all black, for this event.
The grave didn’t even have his father’s name, just his prison number. It showed how much care they gave him, and how much his death really meant. His grave was surrounded by countless others, who also lost their lives while serving time for their crimes, just like him. He was just another headstone in a maze of thousands.
“Dad, I don’t care that you hate me. I am your son. I don’t care that I hate you. You are my father. You were the only family I had left. I’m sorry you had to witness everyone you love die, while I survived. May your tortured soul rest.”
He stayed at Lowood for a few more days. Part of him wanted to get up and go home, but the other part wanted to stay where it was familiar and simple.
However, being away from Jack was difficult for him. He felt very lonely in the town because he didn’t know anybody, and he was too shy to make friends. His thoughts had been confirmed: no one remembered that he was once a child running through the streets. No one had any recollection that he once climbed the rooftops and chased other kids. Nobody.
He didn’t want to tell anybody who he was, either; he didn’t want their sympathy. “Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry about your father.” Shut up. Like he needed anybody to be sorry for him. The last thing he wanted right now was someone to look down on him.
After a little over a week, he decided to go home. His homesickness was growing, and he wanted nothing more to be snuggled into the arms of his boyfriend. So one evening, he packed his things, called the carriage, and began the long journey home.
On the return trip, Alex managed to fall asleep, and stay asleep for the entire journey.
By the time they pulled up in front of Thornfield, it was late afternoon the next day. He looked at the house, noting that there were some lights inside. He got out and walked up to the house, knocking on the door.
After a few moments, it was flung open by Cassadee. “Alex?” She asked in disbelief. “Alex! It is you! You’re back!” She turned back into the house. “Alex is back!” She called.
Then he heard a flurry of footsteps, followed by Alex being forcefully yanked inside and wrapped in strong arms. It was Jack.
“You asshole,” Jack muttered against his hair. “Why would you do that to me?”
He laughed nervously, trying to get air into his lungs. Jack was squeezing him way too hard, but he didn’t care. “It wasn’t easy for you, either?”
“Not one bit.”
Alex closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Jack’s scent, the warmth wrapped around him, the fluttering in his chest, the weeks of longing melting away, everything was just perfect.
Jack pulled them apart just enough to kiss him, and yeah, it was the most passionate his he’s ever had.
“You’re never leaving me again.”
A/N: Were there any tears shed during this chapter? Hope this update ties up any loose ends with Alex and his family. And sorry if I made Alex's dad seem like such an asshole, I'm sure he's a great dude in real life. Was the character realistic? I don't even know.
School is a pain in the ass. I regret missing any of it.
Also, I just got contacts. And being a glasses-wearer for four years, this is blowing my mind right now.
Who saw the ATL, OM&M, PTV, and SWS Harlem Shake? If you haven't, watch it here. I'm still crying over its perfection.
Thanks a bunch for reading, and please comment! I read and respond to every single comment. I love you all.
Author: sherrycookies
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/ Jack Barakat
Rating: R
Summary: Alex is the new tutor at a new job in a new place far from home in Victorian England. What happens when he starts to get unwanted feelings toward his new master?
Disclaimer: I don't own All Time Low, blah blah blah.
Alex awoke the next morning. He sat up, shaking sleep from his head. Today was the day he was supposed to go see his father, whom he hadn’t seen for a year.
He hadn’t even changed his clothing from the day before. Digging around his bag, he found a new shirt and quickly changed. Locating a small mirror, he brushed his hair with his fingers. Then he left in search of food.
There was no food in the house; no one had lived there for a year. He decided to head into town to buy some instead.
The town was already bustling with activity. There were children running around, parents heading to work, and vendors selling whatever one needed. He stopped at one old lady and bought a piece of bread, smiling at the woman.
“Good morning, dear. I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new here?” She asked, handing him some bread.
“Yes and no. I grew up here, but I moved away. Now I’m back,” he answered.
“Oh really? What’s your name?”
“Alex Gaskarth,” he saw her eyebrows go up. “Tom’s younger brother.”
“So you’re Tom’s brother,” she said, tapping a finger against her chin. “I was wondering where the last Gaskarth boy went. I’m sorry about your loss,” she smiled with sympathy. “What are you doing back here?”
“My father-”
“Didn’t he go to jail? It’s a shame, really.”
“He’s dying.”
“He is? Oh, Peter…” her voice trailed off. “And your mother too. So you’re the last one?”
She said it like he was an animal. “Yeah. I’m all alone now.”
“You said you moved away. Where?”
“I work as a tutor now in a home near London.”
“That’s great!” She smiled. “Oh, dear me, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Mrs. Fairfax. My son and I were close to your brother. I knew he had a sibling, I just never met him. Nice to meet you, Alex. Where are you going now?”
He had finished his food. “I’m going to the prison now to see my father.”
She nodded. “Give him my best wishes and good luck to you too.”
After he said goodbye to Mrs. Fairfax, he headed back to the place where he was dropped off the previous day to find that the carriage was waiting for him. He climbed inside and told the man his destination. After the driver snapped his reins, he settled in for the two hour trip.
He carefully thought about what he would say to his dad once he saw him. Was “hey Dad, I missed you” too cheesy? What about “I know it’s been a while, but I still love you”? What if his dad didn’t even want to see him? What if he didn’t even remember him? What if he was already dead? He chewed his lip. What if he couldn’t even mend the broken relationship between them?
Alex always did have a bad habit of overthinking things. He managed to worry himself the whole two hours.
When he arrived, he hopped outside and paid the man again. “Stay here,” he ordered him.
The prison wasn’t a large one. It was made of gray stone and looked more like a medieval castle than a jail. It was surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Two armed men guarded the entrance.
He tried to confidently walk up to the guards and show them the letter. “I’m here to see my father.” Did his voice really shake that much?
One nodded and stepped aside. “Please enter.”
He hurried inside and was met with another man. He was tough and muscular, no doubt the groundskeeper. “Visitor?”
Alex nodded meekly.
“Name of prisoner you’d like to see?”
“Peter Gaskarth.”
He looked Alex up and down. “Ah. You must be his son Alexander. Right this way, sir.”
He led Alex deeper into the prison. He led him past cells and cells of inmates, many of which stared as he passed. He tried not to look back at them. He heard a collection of horrifying sounds: profanities, yelling, screaming, crazed laughter, and crying. This was quite literally, hell on earth.
Finally both arrived at a larger cell, with a figure lying in the cot. “Hey, Gaskarth. You have a visitor,” the man said to the person in the cell. He unlocked the door and pushed Alex inside. “Try not to be long, okay?” He said to him.
As the man closed the cell door, Alex’s father spoke. “A visitor? Who could it be?”
“Dad? It’s your son,” Alex softly, inching closer to his bed. “Remember me?”
“My son? Tom?” Alex watched as his confused eyes focused on him. “Tom! I thought you were dead!”
“N-no, Dad,” he stammered. “It’s me, Alex.”
His father had certainly changed from when he last saw him. He had grown old and frail. Being in jail had aged him quite a bit. His hair was graying and wrinkles had appeared on his face. “Alex? Alexander? No! I don’t want to see YOU. Where is Tom?”
“Tom is dead, Father. Don’t you remember?” He pleaded. “I’m the only one left.”
He huffed, turning away. “No, it can’t be.” He turned back to his son. “You’re Alex.”
“Yes,” he said nervously. “Dad, I’m so sorry, for everything. For hating you, for leaving you, just EVERYTHING. I wish I had been a better son to you. I’m sorry.”
“’Sorry’s’ don’t do anything. They can’t bring back my son or my wife. All I’m left with is you.” He glared at him. “I wish you were the one who died, not Tom. Tom was a good son; much better than you. He was strong and tough, unlike you, you little bitch.”
That stung. A lot. “Y-you don’t mean that, Dad.”
“I mean every word of it. You were and still are weak and spineless. You always needed someone to defend you, and Tom was there. You were the cause of his death.”
“Y-you-” Alex couldn’t even speak right now. He felt like he was hearing all the wrong things. His father did have a point though, he was literally a child, how could he be tough? He was always the nice kid that everybody picked on until he cried. His brother had loved him enough to defend him from the bullies.
The fact that he was the reason for his brother’s death wasn’t a new concept for him. He always did have a bad habit for blaming himself for everything; including death. He felt like, maybe if he were a better brother and didn’t take him for granted so much, Tom would still be alive. But no one had ever voiced this fear. Nobody.
“What? Are you going to cry? You make me-” jus then he was interrupted by a coughing fit. “You make me sick. Leave,” he barely choked out the last word before he began to cough violently. A few minutes later, he had fully exhausted himself and his eyes began to close.
Alex, being the bigger man here, still wanted to mend his broken relationship, despite everything. He leaned forward, trying to press a kiss to his dying father’s cheek.
At the last moment, his father turned away. “Get the fuck away from me.”
He sighed and pulled away. “Goodbye, Dad,” he murmured.
A few hours later, he was lounging in his old bedroom, back on the mattress and feet propped up against the wall. He had a pillow pressed against his face. Alex was crying.
He had suppressed his tears for a few hours now, for risk of anyone seeing him weep in public. He was actually used to hiding his feelings; he had been doing it for years.
Had he really been the reason his brother took his own life? It seemed a little far-fetched, and if Jack was there he’d say that he certainly wasn’t. He was probably too young to pay too much attention to his mental health the last few months he was alive, and if he had paid attention he would have realized that it was deteriorating. What did he know about depression when he was ten?
What he knew now was how terrifying it really is. To best describe it, it’s like drowning, but seeing everyone around you breathing. It was like a pitch black tunnel with no end.
But he had found someone to help cope with it. He had never really told his boyfriend too much about his mental issues, but being with him enough was helping him. Jack was like his life preserver, his light at the end of the tunnel. His lover would never truly know how much he meant to him.
He hadn’t felt the usual drowning feeling in months now, but it was back with a vengeance. Coupled with it was an anxiety attack. He hadn’t felt this bad in ages.
He wished Jack was with him. He wanted Jack to be hugging and kissing him, telling him everything will be okay. His boyfriend was the only person that made his anxiety attacks go away, and stay away. Only Jack had no idea that he could do that. Jack thought of himself as just Alex’s boyfriend, not the reason he was still alive.
Even though it was late afternoon, Alex was exhausted. He pulled the covers up to his chin and removed his pillow, settling on hugging it instead, pretending it was his lover.
He reached for his book and fumbled with the pages, trying to find a note. He finally found one near the end of the book, and struggled to open it. Through his tear-blurred eyes, he read it.
Don’t miss me too much. Pretend I’m right there with you when you go to sleep, because I know I’ll be doing to same. Remember that I love you, and that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me. I cannot even explain how much I love you, and you know I’m not a sappy romantic person. It already feels weird writing these little notes, because I’m not sure what your reaction will be to them. Maybe you’ll laugh and think I’m a clingy idiot, or maybe you’ll actually like them, I don’t know. But I do know that I love you, and that I’ve said that three times already, counting this time. Don’t focus on the people that try to put you down, because they don’t matter. Remember everyone who cares about you, because I know that Cassadee, Rian, Maria, Wendy, Zack, and I love you very much. We’ll all be awaiting your arrival back home. I love you.
Five confessions of my love in one letter at once? That must be a record. Haha, I’m not funny.
Alex pressed the letter to his chest, not caring if he looked like an idiot. That was the sweetest thing anybody had every written to him, and butterflies fluttered into his chest. Mind at ease, he drifted off to sleep.
He was awakened by loud knocking on his front door. He stumbled, half asleep to the door and flung it open, blinking at the weak sunlight that penetrated the clouds.
Standing there was a man that he had never seen before. “Telegram for Mr. Gaskarth,” he said.
Alex took the letter and thanked the man before shutting the door. He rubbed his eyes and tore open the envelope.
Dear Alexander William Gaskarth,
We regret to inform you that your father passed away at midnight. You are welcome to attend his burial in the prison cemetery this afternoon.
Alex stood by his father’s grave. The sun had completely vanished and a cold drizzle had begun to fall. He wore all black, for this event.
The grave didn’t even have his father’s name, just his prison number. It showed how much care they gave him, and how much his death really meant. His grave was surrounded by countless others, who also lost their lives while serving time for their crimes, just like him. He was just another headstone in a maze of thousands.
“Dad, I don’t care that you hate me. I am your son. I don’t care that I hate you. You are my father. You were the only family I had left. I’m sorry you had to witness everyone you love die, while I survived. May your tortured soul rest.”
He stayed at Lowood for a few more days. Part of him wanted to get up and go home, but the other part wanted to stay where it was familiar and simple.
However, being away from Jack was difficult for him. He felt very lonely in the town because he didn’t know anybody, and he was too shy to make friends. His thoughts had been confirmed: no one remembered that he was once a child running through the streets. No one had any recollection that he once climbed the rooftops and chased other kids. Nobody.
He didn’t want to tell anybody who he was, either; he didn’t want their sympathy. “Oh, Alex, I’m so sorry about your father.” Shut up. Like he needed anybody to be sorry for him. The last thing he wanted right now was someone to look down on him.
After a little over a week, he decided to go home. His homesickness was growing, and he wanted nothing more to be snuggled into the arms of his boyfriend. So one evening, he packed his things, called the carriage, and began the long journey home.
On the return trip, Alex managed to fall asleep, and stay asleep for the entire journey.
By the time they pulled up in front of Thornfield, it was late afternoon the next day. He looked at the house, noting that there were some lights inside. He got out and walked up to the house, knocking on the door.
After a few moments, it was flung open by Cassadee. “Alex?” She asked in disbelief. “Alex! It is you! You’re back!” She turned back into the house. “Alex is back!” She called.
Then he heard a flurry of footsteps, followed by Alex being forcefully yanked inside and wrapped in strong arms. It was Jack.
“You asshole,” Jack muttered against his hair. “Why would you do that to me?”
He laughed nervously, trying to get air into his lungs. Jack was squeezing him way too hard, but he didn’t care. “It wasn’t easy for you, either?”
“Not one bit.”
Alex closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Jack’s scent, the warmth wrapped around him, the fluttering in his chest, the weeks of longing melting away, everything was just perfect.
Jack pulled them apart just enough to kiss him, and yeah, it was the most passionate his he’s ever had.
“You’re never leaving me again.”
A/N: Were there any tears shed during this chapter? Hope this update ties up any loose ends with Alex and his family. And sorry if I made Alex's dad seem like such an asshole, I'm sure he's a great dude in real life. Was the character realistic? I don't even know.
School is a pain in the ass. I regret missing any of it.
Also, I just got contacts. And being a glasses-wearer for four years, this is blowing my mind right now.
Who saw the ATL, OM&M, PTV, and SWS Harlem Shake? If you haven't, watch it here. I'm still crying over its perfection.
Thanks a bunch for reading, and please comment! I read and respond to every single comment. I love you all.