Blessed with a Curse (5/?)
Title: Blessed with a Curse
Author: silenceguardian
Rating: Pg-13 for disease.
Pairing: Jack/Alex
POV: 3rd person.
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 goodness this never happened, I own nothing but the plot.
Dedications:quirky_anecdote because she can finish her fics and they are always wonderful. ;3;
Author Notes: Kill me the last time I posted a chapter of this was in October. D': I hope you can remember what this is about. Ahaha. I know you probably all hate me, but I just wanted to pick this back up. All of you are wonderful people. Also, I'm sorry for those on all time boners because all the previous chapters were posted to All time slash and not my journal. D:
Masterlist.
Jack ran to John, embracing him. The connection brought upon a sickening cough from Jack, blood spurting from the corners of his lips. John stepped back, horrified.
“I thought you were dead.” Jack wept slightly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“No, but apparently you are going to be.”
All of Jack’s former friends moved farther and farther away from him.
“He’s got it, Oli. He’s gonna get us killed. I don’t wanna die, mate.” Josh whispered.
Alex stood, feet planted protectively in front of Jack, his expression set in a grimace. “We don’t need you.” He spat venomously. “Hell, I’ve never needed anyone. All they ever did was desert me anyways.”
Alex pivoted and strolled out of the warehouse, beckoning Jack along with him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John walking from the building, heading down the street.
~
“Goddamnit Jack, this is your entire bloody fault. Now we have nowhere to stay or eat or anything.” Alex threw his hands in the air animatedly, exasperated. “At this rate we will both be dead sooner than that hospital would have killed us.”
Jack stopped behind his friend. “Well, then maybe you should just go back there and die alone like you deserve to!”
Alex turned to gaze at Jack, the cold winter air causing him to fold in on himself. Jack regretted the words instantly.
His coffee eyes morphed to flat black as he let emotion rule his actions. Tears began spilling, and Alex picked up his fatigued legs and ran as fast as he could.
“Alex, wait no, I didn’t mean that!” He called after the other. “Alex, wait.” He said softer.
Jack slumped against a wall, “Be careful.” He muttered.
He balled his hand up, squeezing his fingernails deeply into his skin. Blood seeped down onto his wrist, bringing back the familiar scent. He had single-handedly lost everyone he ever cared about. Jack was convinced that living held no more surprises or delights for him. The looming storm cracked over his head, the beginning of sleet trickling on the gray cement. Once again, life proved to be hell, and if he were going to survive he’d better dig in his heels. There would be no silver spoon, no saving grace for dirt in the streets, for humans that slipped through the cracks.
Somehow, he knew he deserved the punishments that afflicted his fragile frame. He became abruptly aware of his own condition. Skin taut over calcium, metallic pooled in his lungs. Him and his optimism had cost his life and the life of Alex. He had been foolish enough to believe that maybe, just once, his wishes could be spared in the eyes of God.
The echoing of rain on an umbrella pulled Jack from his thoughts. He looked towards the source, and John approached. He held a weak smile and some chocolate bars. Jack knew he should be mad at John, but he couldn’t muster the anger.
“Hey Jack.” John knelt beside Jack, bringing the umbrella over the pair.
“I thought you didn’t want to get sick, I thought you didn’t want to die.” Jack stated in a low hum.
“Dying is the only thing that happens here. No one ever accomplishes anything. No one matters, because in the end we all die. We’ll all be forgotten.” John replied, breaking off a piece of chocolate. “As far as I’m concerned the only thing we can ever enjoy is food.”
Jack chuckled lightly, trying to keep the coughing away. “Thanks.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He laughed heartily. “Where’d your English boy go, anyway?”
Jack cringed. “I said some things and he ran.”
“Well then we have to find him!” John sprang up, the cover of the dirty umbrella shifting slightly. Rain splattered on Jack’s head. “God knows what’ll happen to that skinny sonofabitch.”
The shaggy blond helped Jack up, and he proceeded to collapse into himself with sickening hacks. Blood spurted from the edge of his lips and he profusely apologized.
John couldn’t help but gasp in alarm, he was watching his best friend spill from himself, cough by cough. “Come on, Jack we’ve got to find your friend and you to a hospital.”
“I’m not going back.” Red viscous liquid was smeared on his shirt, gruesome and frightening. It reminded John of a film, when the cowboy gets shot and the scene cuts to fake metallic bursting onto his garments. “It would all be useless if I went back. We would have never had a chance.” Jack moves into the sleet, letting it wash over him.
“Don’t you understand, Jack?” John began to yell. “Life holds nothing for no one. What is with you and your constant insane hope for the world to change? You are one person, one sick, meek person. If anyone were to make a difference it certainly wouldn’t be you. Grow up, face the facts. You’re going to die, sooner than I am, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I never said I cared if someone remembered me. I just wanted to look back and say that at least I did something with my life, at least I tried.” Jack panted, fumes from his throat visible in the bitter night. “And now I’ve gone and ruined it again.”
“You crazy bastard, you’re delusional enough for me to feel sympathy. I’ll help you find your English boy but then you’re on your own.”
“Thank you, John.” Jack whispered, pulling himself underneath the umbrella.
“Anytime, kid.”
~
Alex shivered visibly, clutching to his jacket in an alleyway. He found a building with a roof that shielded him from the rain. He couldn’t help but be frantic, eyes darting and swallowing hard. A streetlight lit up just perfectly so Alex could see the rain, and it calmed him. A puddle lay splashing next to him, his reflection becoming distorted with every drop from the roof.
He thought about Jack, and regretted that he had run from him. Without him, Alex remained curled and abandoned, only the echo of rain to accompany him.
Something around him shuffled, bringing Alex’s attention from a daze. A shadow clung to the bricks across the alley, coupled with the sound of footsteps.
A voice thick with smoke and Chicago spoke, “What’s-a pretty little kid like yourself doing out here?”
Author: silenceguardian
Rating: Pg-13 for disease.
Pairing: Jack/Alex
POV: 3rd person.
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 goodness this never happened, I own nothing but the plot.
Dedications:quirky_anecdote because she can finish her fics and they are always wonderful. ;3;
Author Notes: Kill me the last time I posted a chapter of this was in October. D': I hope you can remember what this is about. Ahaha. I know you probably all hate me, but I just wanted to pick this back up. All of you are wonderful people. Also, I'm sorry for those on all time boners because all the previous chapters were posted to All time slash and not my journal. D:
Masterlist.
Jack ran to John, embracing him. The connection brought upon a sickening cough from Jack, blood spurting from the corners of his lips. John stepped back, horrified.
“I thought you were dead.” Jack wept slightly, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
“No, but apparently you are going to be.”
All of Jack’s former friends moved farther and farther away from him.
“He’s got it, Oli. He’s gonna get us killed. I don’t wanna die, mate.” Josh whispered.
Alex stood, feet planted protectively in front of Jack, his expression set in a grimace. “We don’t need you.” He spat venomously. “Hell, I’ve never needed anyone. All they ever did was desert me anyways.”
Alex pivoted and strolled out of the warehouse, beckoning Jack along with him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw John walking from the building, heading down the street.
~
“Goddamnit Jack, this is your entire bloody fault. Now we have nowhere to stay or eat or anything.” Alex threw his hands in the air animatedly, exasperated. “At this rate we will both be dead sooner than that hospital would have killed us.”
Jack stopped behind his friend. “Well, then maybe you should just go back there and die alone like you deserve to!”
Alex turned to gaze at Jack, the cold winter air causing him to fold in on himself. Jack regretted the words instantly.
His coffee eyes morphed to flat black as he let emotion rule his actions. Tears began spilling, and Alex picked up his fatigued legs and ran as fast as he could.
“Alex, wait no, I didn’t mean that!” He called after the other. “Alex, wait.” He said softer.
Jack slumped against a wall, “Be careful.” He muttered.
He balled his hand up, squeezing his fingernails deeply into his skin. Blood seeped down onto his wrist, bringing back the familiar scent. He had single-handedly lost everyone he ever cared about. Jack was convinced that living held no more surprises or delights for him. The looming storm cracked over his head, the beginning of sleet trickling on the gray cement. Once again, life proved to be hell, and if he were going to survive he’d better dig in his heels. There would be no silver spoon, no saving grace for dirt in the streets, for humans that slipped through the cracks.
Somehow, he knew he deserved the punishments that afflicted his fragile frame. He became abruptly aware of his own condition. Skin taut over calcium, metallic pooled in his lungs. Him and his optimism had cost his life and the life of Alex. He had been foolish enough to believe that maybe, just once, his wishes could be spared in the eyes of God.
The echoing of rain on an umbrella pulled Jack from his thoughts. He looked towards the source, and John approached. He held a weak smile and some chocolate bars. Jack knew he should be mad at John, but he couldn’t muster the anger.
“Hey Jack.” John knelt beside Jack, bringing the umbrella over the pair.
“I thought you didn’t want to get sick, I thought you didn’t want to die.” Jack stated in a low hum.
“Dying is the only thing that happens here. No one ever accomplishes anything. No one matters, because in the end we all die. We’ll all be forgotten.” John replied, breaking off a piece of chocolate. “As far as I’m concerned the only thing we can ever enjoy is food.”
Jack chuckled lightly, trying to keep the coughing away. “Thanks.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He laughed heartily. “Where’d your English boy go, anyway?”
Jack cringed. “I said some things and he ran.”
“Well then we have to find him!” John sprang up, the cover of the dirty umbrella shifting slightly. Rain splattered on Jack’s head. “God knows what’ll happen to that skinny sonofabitch.”
The shaggy blond helped Jack up, and he proceeded to collapse into himself with sickening hacks. Blood spurted from the edge of his lips and he profusely apologized.
John couldn’t help but gasp in alarm, he was watching his best friend spill from himself, cough by cough. “Come on, Jack we’ve got to find your friend and you to a hospital.”
“I’m not going back.” Red viscous liquid was smeared on his shirt, gruesome and frightening. It reminded John of a film, when the cowboy gets shot and the scene cuts to fake metallic bursting onto his garments. “It would all be useless if I went back. We would have never had a chance.” Jack moves into the sleet, letting it wash over him.
“Don’t you understand, Jack?” John began to yell. “Life holds nothing for no one. What is with you and your constant insane hope for the world to change? You are one person, one sick, meek person. If anyone were to make a difference it certainly wouldn’t be you. Grow up, face the facts. You’re going to die, sooner than I am, and no one will be the wiser.”
“I never said I cared if someone remembered me. I just wanted to look back and say that at least I did something with my life, at least I tried.” Jack panted, fumes from his throat visible in the bitter night. “And now I’ve gone and ruined it again.”
“You crazy bastard, you’re delusional enough for me to feel sympathy. I’ll help you find your English boy but then you’re on your own.”
“Thank you, John.” Jack whispered, pulling himself underneath the umbrella.
“Anytime, kid.”
~
Alex shivered visibly, clutching to his jacket in an alleyway. He found a building with a roof that shielded him from the rain. He couldn’t help but be frantic, eyes darting and swallowing hard. A streetlight lit up just perfectly so Alex could see the rain, and it calmed him. A puddle lay splashing next to him, his reflection becoming distorted with every drop from the roof.
He thought about Jack, and regretted that he had run from him. Without him, Alex remained curled and abandoned, only the echo of rain to accompany him.
Something around him shuffled, bringing Alex’s attention from a daze. A shadow clung to the bricks across the alley, coupled with the sound of footsteps.
A voice thick with smoke and Chicago spoke, “What’s-a pretty little kid like yourself doing out here?”