Fanfic: Principles, Chapter XV (WIP) (Jalex, WOWP)
It’s my birthday, so I thought I’d give my readers a present. I hope it’s worth the wait (There’s some UST with the angst this time around). This has been a really tough year for me. I’ve spent most of the year taking care of family members who either got sick or had surgery. Then I had surgery, and I’ve spent the last few months recovering. But now I’m trying to take back control of my life through my writing. Should be fairly regular updates from here.
I also apologize because I kind of lost my motivation for this story after season 4 and the less-than-stellar series finale. But I do want to finish this story, as long as people want it (Are people even reading WOWP fics anymore?). I have it planned to be about 25 to 30 chapters, total. So we’re about halfway there. Thanks for hanging in with me so far. This chapter marks where I’ll be referencing canon moments from the series, and there will be more time skips from here on out. I tried to make them as unobtrusive as possible, but as always, if you spot any errors or things that can be improved, let me know.
Title: Principles, Chapter XV
Rating: T
Pairing: Pre-Justin/Alex
Warning: Thoughts of incest. Frank discussions of incest.
Summary: Just when Justin thinks he’s making progress with Alex and his feelings, now all of his support is across the country. And he really doesn’t need to be having any more confusingly intense moments with his sister.
Word Count: 4,015
Disclaimer: Nearly another year passes, and I still don't own WOWP. Not surprising.
For a few minutes, Justin is afraid he and Alex are in trouble. They missed their curfew after the art museum field trip, and as soon as they walk through the door, their parents ask them to sit down. Justin can’t help his fast-beating heart while he sits next to Alex, wondering if they will be punished. Instead, it is just the Russos being the ridiculous Russos, and after Theresa fails to walk through the closed front door, she and Jerry go upstairs in an awkward and embarrassed silence. Even Max goes to his room before Theresa can remember to ground him. This leaves Justin and Alex sitting in confusion together on the couch. Alone.
“What the heck was that?” Alex finally questions.
“I have no idea.” Justin gets up, going to the kitchen.
“At least they didn’t notice we were late.”
“No kidding. They could have at least saved us some dinner.”
“What, they ate all the soup? So what are we supposed to do?”
Justin shrugs and looks in the fridge. “No leftovers, for once.”
“Of course.”
“Want to go downstairs and make sandwiches?”
“You mean, do I want to watch you make our sandwiches?”
“What else.” It’s not even a question because he had expected her response. This is Alex, after all.
Justin leads the way to the dark Sub Station, turning on the kitchen light as he goes.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Pastrami with mustard and pickles. Lots of pickles.”
Justin starts on the sandwiches while Alex draws back the window shutters so she can watch him from where she takes a seat at the counter as if she were a customer.
“Why did you come back for me?” she asks out of the blue.
“What do you mean, Alex? You called me.”
“Yeah, but you left me with that handout I knew nothing about. You knew I would struggle with it.”
“First of all, I’ve been working on that handout for Ms. Merinovich for three days. It’s your fault if you never noticed.” Justin walks through the swinging door to slide a sandwich plate in front of Alex, then he sits opposite her. “Second, you know I’ll always come for you when you’re in trouble.”
“Yeah,” she quietly agrees, eyes soft in a small smile, before she takes a bite of the sandwich.
“Plus, you saved me from Harper’s peach-pit engagement ring, so it was only fair-”
Alex snorts in laughter that gives way to a wet choking.
“Do I need to give you the Heimlich again?” Justin briefly panics.
She shakes her head, but her cheeks turn red.
“What about mouth-to-mouth?” He doesn’t know what makes him say it. Okay, no, that’s a lie. He just doesn’t know why he says it out loud.
But it helps dislodge the food in Alex’s throat as she coughs it up, and Justin realizes she is laughing at him.
“You’re such a dork,” she manages out, wiping at her watery eyes.
Justin smiles, a warm feeling settling in his chest. He gets a soda from the refrigerator, vaguely wondering why Alex won’t stop devouring the sandwich for a single moment even after choking on it.
“Did you know humans are the only animal that can choke while it eats?”
Alex gives him a dull roll of her brown eyes. “Nobody needs to know that, Justin.”
He shrugs, thinking of what else they can talk about before Justin can make this situation awkward. “Did you have fun at the museum, learning things and all?”
“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I liked Mona Lisa. She was pretty cool.”
Justin smiles again, thinking about his Mona and what she might say to him in this situation. Maybe he should send her an e-mail to let her know he is actually doing okay. It’s only been three days since he last saw her, but still. Progress. The proof is that he’s sitting with Alex, and they are simply Justin and Alex.
It’s nice. And he really wants things to stay that way.
Which is exactly why for the next week Justin throws himself into the annual Tribeca Quiz Bowl, hoping that any leftover time and energy won’t be so focused on Alex.
Of course, that doesn’t really happen when he sees Alex at the set up for the Quiz Bowl. He would wonder what’s wrong with her, actually showing up to a school function, but then he sees her flirting with Dean Moriarty. Okay, that Dean is the coolest guy in school, a bad boy, bothers Justin. But he can’t decide if it’s due to his brotherly protective instincts or the other thing, and it’s going to drive him crazy.
So Justin makes enough study note cards to cover the state of New York, and even Zeke wonders why Justin is studying so hard when their Yellow Team is already going to beat Harper’s Maroon Team. But then Alex is suddenly on Harper’s team, participating in the competition, and what the hell?
Alex never studies. Which is why Justin gives her his special study cards. Not because he wants Alex to lose but because he wants to give her a fighting chance against his team of brainiacs.
Of course, he doesn’t expect her to do so well that he can’t even think to reach for the buzzer before Alex is answering the questions. Now, he knows she is smarter than she pretends to be, just like Max, but this is too much.
Justin doesn’t know why he is surprised that Alex is wearing Smarty Pants. Maybe he didn’t expect her to be paying attention to the Wizard Lesson he covered for Dad, but it turns out that she didn’t pay attention to the directions at all. Justin is frustrated with her, but he figures getting skeleton legs in front of a crowd, including her crush, is embarrassment and punishment enough.
So he sits with Alex outside Mr. Laritate’s office while they wait for their mom to come in for a meeting with the Principal.
“I can’t believe you cheated,” he whispers.
“Oh, let it go already,” Alex grumbles.
“I can’t because Harper has my trophy.”
“She still could have won.”
“Not without the help of magic. And my amazing study cards.”
Alex suddenly straightens from her slouch as Dean walks by with his posse in tow, slowing down only to smile at her. Justin hates Dean’s sexy smirk. It’s not sexy at all.
“Mom and Dad will never let you go out with him,” he says, nodding towards Dean’s retreating back.
“Who says I want to go out with him?”
“Only the flirty looks you’ve been giving him for two days.” He hopes he’s imagining his jealous tone.
Alex gives him a sidelong glance, but only crosses her arms and leans back against the wall.
There is a buzzing from his pants, and Justin takes out his cell phone. He smiles at the caller ID as he moves across the hall to answer.
“Hi, Mona.”
“Hi, Justin. How are you?”
He knows there is more to the greeting than just a general pleasantry. He looks at Alex, and he knows what his answer should be, but he can’t talk about it so close to his sister.
“I’m doing okay,” he says, turning away to face the lockers.
“Is that it? Okay?”
“I’m not alone.”
“Oh, I see.”
“I’ll e-mail you tonight. So, how was your conference?”
“Good. I had fun. That’s why I am taking the position on the seminar.”
Something small and painful clenches inside him. “I knew you would. Good for you.”
She hums, a soft sound he barely hears. “I still feel bad leaving you so suddenly. I hope you’re not mad.”
Justin forces out a laugh that actually sounds happy. “How could I be mad at you? No, I’m glad you’re going.”
“Well, if I’d known you were that eager to get rid of me, I would have left a while ago.” She laughs, and he feels like they’re old friends. “Anyway, if you’re busy, I’ll send you an e-mail. Get back to me when you can.”
“All right, sounds good. I’ll talk to you later, Mona.” He hangs up and nearly jumps out of his skin when he turns around right into Alex.
“Who’s Mona?” she asks.
Crap. “My friend, Alex. Why?”
She narrows her eyes at him. “No reason, I guess. Mom’s here.”
“Then I’ll wait outside.” Justin escapes as quickly as he can because, damn it, he doesn’t want Alex to know about Mona. He doesn’t want anyone to know about Mona. Too many questions he can’t answer. And he doesn’t like lying to his family.
It turns out, Justin only has to wait for a few minutes. Mr. Laritate couldn’t prove that Alex really cheated or did anything wrong during the Quiz Bowl, although he did reprimand her about seemingly disrobing in public. And of course, Alex doesn’t get punished, not even when Theresa finds out about the Smarty Pants.
Their mom’s reaction? To ask if she can borrow the leggings for her next book club meeting, so she can upstage all the other men and women. Justin can only sigh and silently bemoan his life.
Once they all get home, Justin hides in his room to read Mona’s e-mail:
Hey, I’m lecturing on the effects on children whose parents are bipolar. It’s an interesting topic, if you know anything about it. Want to tell me what you couldn’t on the phone before?
He sighs, then types out a quick reply:
I tried to focus on a school competition, but of course my sister managed her way into something that should just be mine. As always. Then I realized I’m jealous that she’s been flirting with this guy from school. I hate myself.
Justin settles down on his bed, awaiting her response. Due to his participation in the Quiz Bowl, his teachers haven’t given much homework for the past few days. He would be grateful for the break if he weren’t so desperate for something to keep his attention away from Alex.
He picks up the book from his night stand and starts reading. His eyes droop after only a few minutes, and before he knows it, he is asleep. The thing is, Justin can’t escape his subconscious that keeps creating dreams about Alex. Something about a couple weeks ago when he felt Alex’s hands on his waist, and he imagines her small hands sliding up his chest under his shirt, and he almost can’t breathe.
He is startled awake by movement at his side, and when he blearily sees Alex hovering over him, he cries out and rolls away from her. Right off the side of the bed.
“Dude, what is your problem?” She comes around the foot of the bed to look at him.
He groans and smashes his face into the soft carpet, grateful he’s on his stomach and Alex can’t see his little problem.
“We’re voting on dinner. I want pizza, so you better say pizza.”
Justin adjusts his face so he can talk. “No way, Alex. You always want pineapple on yours.”
“If we split one, you can get half with only cheese or whatever dorks eat.”
“Fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”
She doesn’t move for a moment, as if she might actually wait for him.
“You can get out of my room now,” he says, sounding more irritated than he actually is. Really, he just wants his semi-erection to go away already.
Alex doesn’t say a word, and he listens to her footsteps as they vibrate on the floor beneath him. When his door closes, he finally moves back to sit on his bed. That was too close of a call, and he prays that Alex didn’t notice anything. She would undoubtedly be teasing him if she did.
He spots a notification on his computer, checking to see that Mona did respond to his e-mail:
Don’t hate yourself, Justin. After what we last talked about, I’m not surprised your sister ended up where you least expected or wanted her to be. I’m glad you recognize your jealousy, though, that’s a good step forward. Do you have something else to be keeping you occupied?
He thinks about it before typing: No. Have any good hobbies to recommend?
After he realizes he’s being selfish in this conversation, he adds: By the way, I like your topic for the seminar. I bet it’s fascinating psychologically. Do those kids turn out more screwed up than me?
Without another thought about it, Justin goes downstairs. Jerry and Max are on the couch watching some nature survival show. Max roots for the crocodile to win, despite the fact that there is only a bear onscreen. Jerry tries to explain, but Max only says, “Yeah, but if there were a crocodile, I’d want it to win.”
Justin shakes his head in amusement as he sits beside Alex at the counter where she is lazily flipping through a magazine.
“You know, I would participate in more school functions if I knew it meant less homework,” she says.
“That’s not why I do it.” He glances over at the article she’s reading, How to tell if the boy you’re crushing on likes you back.
Alex quickly flips the page, and Justin watches her cheeks flush with color. He ignores what it does to his body and looks for a change in subject.
That is when Theresa comes in from the basement, rubbing her forehead. “Max, how many times do I have to tell you to check your pants pockets before I do laundry? There’s sticky candy residue everywhere!”
“Sorry, Ma!” is the only reply she receives. Theresa rolls her eyes, turning toward her older children. “You, too, Justin. I hope there wasn’t anything important on this paper besides this Mona’s e-mail address.”
Justin snatches the wet and worn information card, thanking the heavens that the professional information for Mona’s therapeutic practice is mostly illegible.
“Dude, nobody e-mails anymore,” Max calls. “You couldn’t get her number?”
Justin clenches his jaw. His twelve-year-old littler brother has no right to heckle him about girls.
“He already has her number,” Alex says, simultaneously sticking up for him and making things worse.
“Oh?” Theresa says, voice turning sly. “Who is this Mona? Your girlfriend? We haven’t met her yet?”
“That’s because she’s only a friend,” he says.
“Tell us about her, son.” Jerry joins his wife, his hand around her waist as they stand at the counter, waiting for him to say something. Anything.
He swallows and shoots a rather heatedly mean look at Alex. “There’s nothing to tell.”
Then he hops off the stool and heads back upstairs to his room. Justin knows he’s horrible at keeping secrets, but really, does the universe have to be against him on this one?
He pulls a pillow over his head and tries to relax. It only takes a few minutes for him to be bothered. It has to be a new record.
“Suffocation? Really, Justin, I thought you were above that.”
Never in his life has he wished so hard that Alex would just leave him alone. Something hot is placed on his stomach, making him yelp and sit up, swiping at whatever it is. Alex is quick enough to save him from flinging the pizza slices across his room.
“Damn it, Alex! That burned me!” He rubs at his tender stomach before he stands, taking the hot plate from her hand and putting it on his night stand.
“Don’t be such a baby, it wasn’t that hot.” She reaches forward, pulling up his shirt with the hand that isn’t holding her own plate of pizza slices. Her hand is too warm, but at the same time it feels cool against the slight burn, and she has his muscles jumping to attention. “Oh, I guess your stomach is a little red.”
When her fingers move higher, Justin’s heart climbs up, rapidly beating in the hollow of his throat. He catches her wrist but doesn’t remove her hand. He wants to, but he can’t, not while his traitorous mind brings up images from his eerily similar dream. He can’t let her go because he just needs to pull her closer.
“What are you doing?” His voice is heavy with a feeling he doesn’t want to analyze right that moment because he’s not even sure exactly what he is asking her.
Alex’s fingertips blaze hot trails on his skin as they curl into her palm. Her dark eyes are intense, and her full mouth is parted like she’s deciding how to answer him.
“What are you doing?” she counters, all blatant challenge, but Justin can still see the vulnerability hiding behind her shield.
“I asked you first.” And so begins another of their childish arguments because he doesn’t want to let go. He lets his thumb rub circles on the smooth, soft skin of her delicate wrist.
Alex’s eyes flick down to their hands. “You’re such a baby, I had to make sure I didn’t really burn you.”
Her tone is mocking, but she won’t look at him again.
“Alex-”
Her eyes are quick as lightning then, freezing the words in his clenched throat. Words he might have regretted saying, if his desperate tone was any indication.
“What, Justin? What do you want me to say?” She is just as desperate then, in a way he’s only seen when she needs him to save her.
But he can’t. He can’t do anything. Because he doesn’t know what she wants him to do, and they could be stuck in this stalemate until one of them gives in to dangerous consequences. And he knows where this is going on his end, and if anything, he can save her from himself.
“Nothing,” he eventually says, releasing her hand and pulling down his shirt. “Thanks for the food.”
It is a curt dismissal, and he hates being this way to her. Maybe he can blame it on being disappointed that he didn’t win the Quiz Bowl, thanks to Alex’s cheating ways. But really, he’s too frustrated with himself. That he can’t read Alex well enough to know what she needs right now because he can only think about himself and his own selfish, twisted desires.
“Whatever,” Alex says after a moment. She is more composed and back behind her practically impenetrable defenses. “Let me know when you’re done PMSing.”
She storms out of his room, and he listens to her footsteps until they fade. Then he laughs at himself. It is an ugly, miserable sound that only makes him feel bitterer.
He stands there for a minute. He feels so lost. He needs to talk to Mona. So Justin grabs his pizza and checks his e-mail. He barely tastes the warm tomato sauce and stringy cheese as he reads Mona’s reply:
Firstly, Justin, you need to stop thinking about yourself as being screwed up. You’re not. Sure, your situation isn’t normal, but you’re not the only one in the world going through this. Just stop hating yourself for something that’s out of your control. You’ll feel better in time.
Secondly, yes, my topic is psychologically fascinating. I hope you weren’t being totally facetious because it’s hard to tell in writing. :P I studied the effects of bipolarism in school, and I wrote many articles on it. One of my colleagues is interested in co-writing a book with me, since it is an issue that many children deal with. I have plenty of literature if you want to read more about it.
Thirdly, I know you said you’re not much of a sports guy, so I would try something that takes both physical and mental focus. Learn a new language while you exercise, haha. Learn to play an instrument and start a band. Find something new that interests you. And if you’re still jealous about your sister’s interest in a boy, I still suggest you look for a girl. She doesn’t have to be your girlfriend if you’re uncomfortable after your previous relationship. She can just be a friend who helps you get over your sister, if that’s what you want.
Anyway, Justin, I hope this helps you. I feel like I’m repeating myself, like my advice isn’t as good in the written word as in person. Let me know what you think.
Mona put such time into her e-mail, Justin figures he can slap himself out of his funk in order to be polite to her. He finishes the pizza before he hits reply. He doesn’t respond to the first part. He knows Mona is right, but he still has a difficult time not hating himself. So he moves on to the second part:
I would like to read about bipolarism, but I think any current school workload is big enough. But I do hope you get to write a book about it to educate and support people who deal with the effects of it in their families.
Justin actually manages to smile as he types the next part:
Thank you for the suggestions. Not only did they make me laugh, but they made me want to try them. I’m not sure about the girlfriend option yet, but I know what you mean. I guess I already feel like you’re the friend I need. And now I feel like we’re pen pals or something. You might need to repeat yourself to get me to listen, but I always appreciate your advice. So again, thank you.
He wants so badly to talk about what just happened with Alex, but he hasn’t been able to figure out the right words to describe the intensity of their moments, the strange ones they keep having. He especially doesn’t know what to say because he feels like he isn’t the only one struggling in these moments. But he’s afraid of what Mona might say, think. Like maybe he’s going crazier because he wants Alex to feel something for him, too. He can’t face that possibility. He isn’t strong enough.
Instead, he writes: When does the seminar start? As if that will make his problem go away, if he doesn’t acknowledge it in writing to Mona. Then he hits send.
There is a knock on his open bedroom door. He spins his chair around to see Max in the doorway.
“Hey,” he greets with an upward tilt of his chin.
Justin waves him in. Max sits on the edge of the bed across from him.
“Alex is really mad at you. She ate all your half of the pizza. And hers. She ate a whole pizza she’s so angry at you.”
Justin shakes his head at Alex’s deplorable eating habits.
“Why are you guys fighting so much?” Max asks.
He doesn’t expect the question. “We’re not. Not really.”
“I know, but this is different than your usual back-and-forth. But tomorrow you’ll act like nothing happened.”
For once, Justin wishes his brother was as dumb as he pretends to be. He certainly has his astute times, but Justin doesn’t need that now.
“That’s because nothing happened,” he says. Yes, because Justin barely had enough self-control to keep himself from doing something he’d regret, like he came so close to before.
“I don’t like it when you guys really fight. It doesn’t feel right. Hey, that rhymed.” And just like that, Max is back to laughing at himself and leaving Justin alone with his chaotic thoughts.
Another thing he doesn’t need. So Justin spends the rest of the evening reading ahead in his English textbook, letting the sentence diagramming and linguistics lull him to sleep. When he wakes up in the morning with another hard-on over a dream involving Alex, he knows Max was wrong. Justin can’t act like nothing happened, as much as he’ll try. Because something keeps happening in his mind, and it has to stop. But now, thanks to Mona, Justin has a list of distractions that he prays will work. Because he can’t pretend much longer.