fic: Just To Ask All The Questions. (1/1)
Title: Just To Ask All The Questions.
Author: thewayudoitt
Rating: PG-15.
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth / Jack Barakat.
Disclaimer: I do not own, though I wish I did.
Summary: Alex guesses he doesn't notice, because Jack's eyes are focused and his gaze is hard, determined for an answer he already knows. All Alex can really do is nod, because it's true and he knows it, even though he wishes he didn't.
Dedications: minacoleta for putting this idea in my head with the whole Alex/Ed Ex(Travis)ganza. voltinstability for just.. being you, and enjoying the angst and fangirling with me when I finally finished. tenderedheart because you're my baby. and for anyone that's wanted and waited for serious!angsty!comforting!Jack, finally. here you go. :)
i know what we wanted and what we thought was going to happen. i don't know how we ever thought it would be easy. you mean so much to me.
It's not real. Alex can barely read from the paper, his hands are shaking so bad. He can feel his throat tighten so hard that it hurts, the pain making his ears ring a little, which is so annoying and is probably gonna lead to a headache later on.
but i think we both know nothing like that was going to happen. i'm sorry that i left, but it's for the best. don't miss me too much.
Too fucking late. Alex feels nothing but a few throbs against his heart, maybe it's because he's not breathing very normally, he's not so sure. Alex really isn't as smart as he would like to be, everyone knows that; but he knows bullshit when he sees it, and this, oh, this is it. Because Alex knew, he always believed, always hoped, always trusted that everything would fall into its place once she left Dean or Sean, what the fuck ever his name was, and Alex always said and promised and forgave when she said things she didn't mean, things that made no sense to him at the time.
"I don't know if we can do this."
"I should just die right now. Then everyone can be happy."
"I don't want to ever leave you. You mean the world to me."
He refuses to believe that it was all a joke, that all the things she said were just to fool with his mind, to laugh about behind his back and Alex wants to stop reading because it hurts more than it ever should, feeling like a lie is blooming inside your stomach and about to flow out of your mouth but he can't because he wants to know why; why him, why his young, naive mind. Why his heart and why not.
i left with him because it feels like its right. i know what we said and our plans, and i don't forget. i won't forget.
Don't get me wrong, I know you've got your life in place.
So why? He doesn't get it, doesn't understand; the meaning isn't being grasped in his hand, but then again, when was this situation on the palm of his hand to begin with? She was here, 3 full years of his life, taking over and leaving him with nothing, because now she's gone and with some other guy that she was afraid of Alex even meeting. And why did Alex believe her in the first place? Because he trusts? Because he's in love? No, because he's a fucking whipped idiot.
i love you so much, alex. i hope you dont forget. P.S. wait for me?
Wait for you to come back and do it all over again? He can't function properly, letting the letter go, but as soon as it floats, away from his reach, he attacks it and brings it back, pressing it tight against his chest until it hurts, his small nails digging through the thin paper and into his muscle shirt, hitting skin. Alex closes his eyes, swallowing hard and thinking he might look like he's dying. But then again, would that really be a big difference? Because Alex knows that no matter how hurt or torn he is, once she comes back again, he'll be on his knees, begging for her forgiveness for something he didn't and couldn't do.
Alex knows it's too much, and anything too much is too much, regardless of the cause. This is a cause he's been fighting for the past 3 years of his life.
I've yet to take the hint. Someday I'll get the picture, and stop waiting up.
But she never leaves a note. She always leaves, waiting for when Alex goes insane, breaks something, preferably inside himself to prove that he needs her, that she's worth something, she must come back; she feeds off it and Alex knows it, but he can't let go, because each time she leaves, it's like the pain feeds him, because he knows that she'll be back sooner or later. She's only doing this because she cares, really, and Alex needs that, craves the thought of being wanted, of having to chase and do something to be wanted and craved back.
But what if that's it? What if all this is for absolutely nothing? What if she will forget, what if she's already forgotten, what if she's comparing Alex to him, what if? What if the whole point of this is to see how far Alex can crack, how much he can need and beg and crave; how hard he shakes, how much he wants; is she here forever? Or will she keep leaving? Is all this time wasted for no reason?
Will you be there to carry home the remains of my wasted youth?
It's questions like these that have Alex biting down on his bottom lip hard enough for it to bleed. He's not going to believe, until she says so herself that she's not coming back, there was nothing like that at all on the letter. There is no proof that she's going to leave him forever.
But then again, the letter itself just might be the proof he needs. These are the last words, those last few words that he will ever dream of getting from her, and it's not enough. It's not, and Alex would rather have too much than not anything at all.
This wasted time on you has left me shaking in waiting for something more.
Alex falls flat on the bed, his breathing coming ragged.
Why can't I have just enough?
--
Alex always knew what he was doing.
Life at home was boring, it was hectic and annoying all at the same time. He had amazing parents and everything else that an ordinary person wants or wanted but that's just it; Alex is not a regular person. He wants and craves pain, wants the torture and he wants the fun and the adventure that people get, easily.
He knew that she was with that guy, always, but he never put an end to it because of the thrill. At first, it was the most excitement he had had in years, the thought of getting caught, the thought of someone catching up and someone trying to stop him. The heat that curled up his arms, onto his cheeks and the faint weakness at the back of his knees when someday, he could look straight into someone's eyes and say, "No."
There's always a time, when it hurt. It killed him, his stomach, his heart. Times like when Jack tried to stop him, when Jack had pulled hard on his arm and told him to snap the fuck out of it, stop getting so caught in this girl, she's ruining you and all Alex could do is tell him to fuck off.
Alex knew what he was doing. Now his eyes burned, hot and prickling behind eyelids because he knows that if he calls Jack, right now, Jack will say the exact same thing as he did when she left the first time.
"I already ran after you once and now I give up. I told you this would happen and fuck you if you didn't believe me. Life isn't a fucking fairytale, and I'm not your Prince Charming that's going to run after you once everything goes wrong. I told you, you didn't listen, and now I'm done."
Alex knew what he was doing. Now, he has no idea what there is to do with it.
--
Him and Jack had a.. thing.
It was one of those things that they never talked about. It happened, it did, and Alex likes to believe that it'll always be there, or at least, it used to be that way. He fucked up and he knows it, because something inside him says that she's not coming back, but Jack never left. Alex had just simply walked away, back straight and head held up high.
But what's going to happen now, that Alex is crawling back on his hands and knees, mud dripping off his back, rain hitting his face, crying and begging for forgiveness? Something Alex always, always promised himself that he would never do, though he has done, so many times, to her?
Would Jack smile and tag along, taking his hand and skipping off? Would Jack tackle Alex to the ground, blame him for everything, blame him for taking his own life away, scream at him until his voice is lost and cry until his tears are dry? Or would Jack simply let one tear fall, and shake his head, no?
It was simple then, the smiles, the laughter. Alex squeezes his eyes shut, to keep the burning away, and it feels weird. Alex has never missed Jack so much in his entire life. Because he knows that Jack would know exactly what to do, how to act, when Alex would want a hug or a screamfest (because Alex is weird and actually needs those), if Alex would want to sit alone or want to watch Family Guy together on Jack's bed, hot tea and all.
The memories seep in and it makes Alex's throat reflex from holding back all the tears, and he knows it won't work for long because the barrier is already so huge, and whether he wants to believe it or not, he does have limits.
She taught him to forget, to let go, to never look back and to always climb over those barriers. But then again, isn't that exactly what Jack was trying to do? What Jack failed at so miserably, because Alex let him go first? The difference is, if Alex hadn't been a complete and utter asshole, Jack would still be here, and it would still be a happy ending, because Jack is Jack and Alex is nothing without him.
She was nothing but a stand in, and Alex was hooked from the beginning.
The flavor of your lips is enough to keep me here.
He wasn't ashamed of being with her, he felt important and needed, because she wanted him to be the person she used, to feel happy and free, even though she was married and had to be kept locked in a cage. Alex craved that feeling, and now it was gone.
Jack is the only person that Alex could just be with, without having to change or fight or pretend. Alex was happy, but he was blinded, and Jack knew but he waited regardless, until Alex left and threw it all to the trash.
Jack knew all along, and will continue to know, even while Alex pretends that he knows as well.
--
It's strange for Alex, being in this situation.
He stares at the mirror and hopes that it shatters in the middle, right through his reflection and hopefully through his soul. He raises an eyebrow, watches as the image copies his movement and he clenches a fist, hard.
Alex wants to punch it, feel the shards of glass slice through his skin, wants to kneel over the toilet and throw up his dignity.
It's strange, because this is the kind of thing he always kept her from doing to herself.
--
Alex's eyes burn enough that he can barely blink, yet he wants to blink so bad that it makes his toes curl.
He can't hold the barrier up for too long, it's too big and Alex, Alex is tiny. Too tiny and fragile and weak and the adjectives slice through his brain like a knife.
Undersized. Delicate. Insignificant. Unimportant. Vulnerable.
He swallows once, blinking and glancing at the mirror next to his bed; his eyes land, stop, and he sees it, the barrier slowly falling apart behind his eyelids.
Alex squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a wounded animal noise, a tortured gasp, and gets off his bed, digging the heels of his hands against his eyes, hard. He hisses, feeling a shiver curl up his spine and Alex nearly falls over from the force of the shudder, clamping his lips together.
When Alex opens his eyes again, he's crouching on the floor and sharp flashes of light keep hitting his vision from the release of his hands. His palms are wet, soaked from salt water and it's dried, cracking on his cheeks. His eyes burn so much more now, even through the slight relief.
Half the barrier is gone and Alex knows he can't continue to carry it himself; it's a lost battle, and Alex can't fight through it alone.
--
He's 2 houses away when he realizes what he's actually about to do.
Two steps forward.
One step back.
His fingers keep clenching hard, pulling at his shirt and Alex feels stupid for not putting on any kind of hoodie because the wind is cold and his cheeks are red.
He can't knock, because Jack's mom and dad are home, for sure, and that would just be weird and start up drama. His own mom doesn't know he left, so that wouldn't do any good.
If Alex didn't know what he was doing all along, right now, he feels as if he knows exactly what's about to happen.
You learn from your mistakes, but if you know you're about to make one, do you still go for it?
Alex doesn't answer his own question because the wind is too cold and his fingers hurt as they curl around the cold, dry wood of the tree they climbed a few times. It takes a few tries, a few heaves, but Alex didn't go through a weights-obsession for nothing, so he makes it to the top of the branch, where his feet stand safely.
He blinks, staring at the window; its paint is peeling and it looks kind of weird, old, as if Alex hadn't faced it so many times during the night, during this time. For a full 6 seconds, Alex thinks hard about jumping off the branch and not doing this, because then maybe he'd break an arm or a leg and then he would need drugs for pain, and maybe that would make the pain go away.
But then again, the pain would only stay away for a few hours, and Alex knows that if Jack is still here, still laying down on the same bed, listening to the same Blink-182 CD on repeat, the pain will go away long enough for Alex to forget why it was there in the first place.
So he pushes the window open, the creak not loud enough to be heard on the first floor, where Mr. Jack's Dad and Mrs. Jack's Mom are supposedly watching TV or making out, whichever works. Alex licks his lips, though they're soaking wet and nearly bleeding from his teeth and places a firm hand against the side of the open window, swinging his leg over in a lucky slide and breathing out through his nose once his foot hits the floor, glancing at the stairs, tense.
Another 4 seconds of thinking No you can't do this, you're breaking and entering, he'll just kick you out again, you deserve it anyway, and Alex is standing in the hallway, rock clogged in his throat as he swings the window shut, quietly. He glances again at the staircase leading to downstairs and he can hear the usual music coming from behind the bedroom door; it makes his insides squeeze together and Alex's knees nearly give out.
When he opens the door, Alex is greeted by Jack laying flat on the bed, some random Junie B. Jones book open and draped over his face; the only sign that he's really alive is the fact that his foot keeps bobbing with the music and Alex fights the urge to punch himself in the stomach for ever letting him go.
He takes a shaky breath in, knowing Jack probably heard that, so he reaches over to the portable radio and presses a firm finger against the pause button.
Immediately, Jack's foot stops and it seems like his entire body jumps from how tense he suddenly becomes. Alex doesn't know how to react; the first thing he thinks of doing is getting on his knees and apologizing over and over before sucking him off or something. The next thing he thinks is how can he manage to jump out of the window and erase this fact from Jack's memory forever.
But his thoughts are way too late, because Jack removes the book from his face and lets it fall to the floor; his eyes stare straight up to the ceiling, unblinking and steady and before Alex can help himself, he comments, "I gave you that."
Jack visibly swallows, his Adams apple bobbing slightly. He doesn't look over, doesn't try to smile.
"Yeah. You did."
And the voice change is so different from hers, so deep and yet so much warmer; it's smooth and rich, makes Alex's mouth water and his stomach explode and Alex maybe kind of feels his bottom lip shiver.
Alex tries to calm down his own Adams apple, it's doing such a good job to keep him together and if it fails him now, he would probably have to cut it off. "I never technically gave you it. You just never gave it back."
"You never gave me the chance to."
The answer is so sudden that Alex can feel a spark of anger shoot through his arms and stomach, his legs weakening.
"I missed that."
Jack blinks, the first time.
Alex's voice weakens, "It used to bring back good memories."
Jack nods, slow and careful. "Yeah. That's why I was re-reading it. Again."
And he sits up, eyes still looking forward and Alex, subconsciously, makes a step, then quickly takes it back. Jack's head turns, falling on Alex's shoes and Alex can feel heat hurl onto his face. They're acting like children, he knows it, completely avoiding the subject yet totally talking about it at the same time and it makes him want to scream and break shit around the room.
"When did you become such a smartass?"
"When you became an asshole."
Alex shivers, his throat hurting now. "Dude.."
Two steps forward.
Jack does this weird little laugh thing, covers his face. "Don't fucking do this again, Alex. Okay? Please."
One step back.
"Do what?" and now Alex's voice is cracking, his chest being held back by some kind of mystical power because he kind of wants to start heaving for air.
Jack makes this pained noise, letting his hands fall and his eyes land directly on Alex's and they're wet and shining, so hurt that Alex flinches. "This! This fucking shit that you always do! Do you think that we're all just waiting around for you to come running back when that cunt leaves you, dude?"
Jack's lips shake hard. "Because we can't just arrange this kind of shit, y'know? If you're going to leave, then fucking stay there."
Alex can feel the tears and they're running down again, sliding and hitting his cheeks, splashing onto his shirt and he wants to stop, wants to explain, because he gets it, but Jack doesn't and it's so fucking much that Alex can't breathe.
Jack pulls hard at his hair, eyes squeezing tight. "Please."
And he breathes out, shaky and all Alex can say is, "I'm sorry, okay?"
Jack doesn't answer, but he laughs, tugging harder at the locks and Alex continues because his chest can't stay quiet for long.
"I'm so, so fucking sorry, okay? I don't know what to say and I don't know what I can say to make you forgive me because I fucking know that I shouldn't be forgiven, I'm really not worth it and you might not need me, but fuck, Jack, I need you so much, okay? I do and I know it and I'm pretty sure you know it and she probably knew it too, which is why she took me away from you and -"
"Left you in the dirt, again, just for you to go fucking running back to her even when you had all of us with you?" Jack says and it's loud, he's standing and facing Alex and Alex, he's tiny, fragile.
Vulnerable.
Alex flinches, throat clogging and his hands pull hard at his shirt. He wants to move forward, fall into the embrace of Jack's chest, wants to feel, remember the warmth, wants to be safe again in that scent that he always craved; musky and warm, a bit salty but sweet all the same and Alex honest-to-God shudders at the memory, right there in front of Jack.
Alex guesses he doesn't notice, because Jack's eyes are focused and his gaze is hard, determined for an answer he already knows. All Alex can really do is nod, because it's true and he knows it, even though he wishes he didn't.
Jack's gaze softens, only enough for it to be noticed, but not enough for it to make Alex any less tense and Alex can't tell if it's a good thing.
".. Why are you doing this."
It's soft-spoken, low and breathy and it makes Alex's stomach curl, wishing that Jack would start screaming already. When he doesn't answer, doesn't know how he could possibly try to, Jack says, "If you know you're just going to leave again, why are you coming back? Do you think that taking me down with you will make this all better? A better ride for your sick, deluded brain?"
Jack's eyes fill up to the brim with tears and Alex can feel his barrier fall, in slow motion, because he's just now understanding that Jack isn't as strong as he's cracked up to be. "Why does it have to be me? Go hurt someone else for once, okay? Please."
He's begging and Alex knows it, it feels weird to be on the other side. Alex takes one step forward, his lips tugging downwards from the sudden force of sorrow hitting his body.
"I need you to help me stay," is what Alex can come up with at the moment; it's sudden, ripped away from a part of his brain that he could have sworn he let go, but now it's there, it's floating in the air, waving in front of Jack, taunting, and Alex isn't very sure if he regrets it or not.
He has never regret anything in his life, ever, but admitting the reason why he's possibly been going through all of this for all this time, is the hardest thing Alex ever had to do.
Jack stares, sharp and hard into Alex's eyes and Alex seriously thinks that Jack is going to slap him across the face or something. He just simply says, walking away from Alex, shaking his head, "I don't fucking need this," and it's worse, worse than any pain Alex has ever felt because Jack is letting him go now, Jack is finally realizing that Alex is nothing, not worth it, and Alex suddenly knows.
It hits him like a ton of bricks, that Jack was there and now he's probably not going to be anymore, ever, because of Alex himself. The reason that Alex is standing on this floor tonight, is because of Jack; everything he is, everything he resembles, Jack helped with and Jack made him. They're a part of each other and it's scary, but Alex can't let it go, because then, what will he have to lose when she leaves again?
But all those thoughts are put to the side when Alex finally thinks, What will I have to lose, when she comes back and I deny her?
Alex bites hard on his bottom lip, enough for it to hurt and make his nerves tremble a little and he's sure he can taste a small line of blood when he asks, whispers, "So you're walking away too?"
And it's so quiet that Alex doesn't know if Jack actually heard him; he doesn't check, just looks up to the ceiling and lets the tears begin to fall faster as his voice breaks, quickly with each shaky breath. "Are you really just going to let me go? Jack.. you're my only fucking hope right now."
Alex feels as if he's begging for another chance at recovering from drugs and in a way, he kind of is. His eyes are heavy and flowing, his face sticky and wet and he sniffles hard, feeling his throat clog; Alex glances over at Jack, finally, his eyes landing and Jack's tears are all over the place as well. Alex isn't sure if it's a good thing.
Breathing shakily, chest shuddering a bit, he whispers, "You mean every fucking thing to me, Jack. You know that," Alex states before feeling his chin shiver a little, "Please don't take it away from me."
Jack whispers, "You walked away first. You have no idea how much that broke me."
Alex is trying so hard to not break, even though he knows he's seconds away from it. He feels his face change into a pained look, his hands coming up to his hair, pulling in anger, in regret, but he sobs out, "So let me fix it. Please?"
And it's just then that Alex can feel the whole of him shatter, his chest feeling like it exploded and sobs overcome him, his legs weakening but he's still standing, somehow, something holding him up; it's not strong, but it's firm, sure, and it makes Alex shake all over, his cries fighting to become louder but Jack stops him. His arms are there, around Alex, tight, and Alex finally allows himself to fall, crumbles down the barrier himself, because he's kind of sure that now, Jack will be there to help him build it up again.
Alex presses his face into Jack's neck, warm and welcome and Jack squeezes his shoulders close, right against his own chest. Alex can feel tears hitting his cheeks, hard like boulders and his sobs shake through him, shivering through Jack's body also, but Jack doesn't let go, doesn't make any hint that he might let go any time soon, and Alex is so grateful that he maybe starts crying even harder. Alex's fingers pull at the shirt Jack is wearing because he doesn't want to hurt him any more, knows that he would be digging his nails into his skin, but then when Alex notices the shirt, he knows it's his own, the one he was wearing the first night they were together like this. Knowing that, Alex shudders, murmuring, "I'm so sorry," into his neck and all Jack says back is, "I know, baby boy."
He never noticed how much he would miss that, that little nickname, but it hits home hard enough for Alex to seriously feel like he's about to collapse and he kind of maybe does, legs buckling and Jack pulls him up just in time, knowing it was coming. "Come on, it's okay," Jack whispers in a soft voice, against Alex's ear as he holds him up and walks him towards the bed with easy steps, grasping tight at his arms. Alex suddenly doesn't want to stay on Jack's bed, it's wrong, he's done so much wrong already in his life, so he whines, "No, Jack, wait," and tries to pull away.
Jack kind of smiles, knowing what he's trying to do and sits down on the bed, pulling Alex down on top of him, on his lap as he lays back down properly; Alex wants to complain, he really does, but then it's Jack and Jack's bed and it's all so old but so new at the same time and Alex allows his eyes to close, but the tears don't stop. They slide slowly down his cheeks, one by one, following the lines of the others and pooling down onto his jaw, where Jack's lips are suddenly pressed.
Alex opens his eyes, slow and hazy and he's shaking from the calming sobs, his breathing coming in jumps and he finally notices how close they are together. They're both on their sides, facing each other, Alex's hands still pulling at Jack's (his) shirt, tight and desperate and Jack entangles their legs together as Alex stares with awe on how everything changed with a few words.
He can't help but whisper in a sore voice, "Was it something I said?"
Jack smiles only a little bit, because his tears are still coming too, but his eyes sparkle like a little kid's as he leans forward; it's soft, a brush of lips and Alex's mouth falls open at the blink of an eye, shocked but expecting all the same. Alex's fingers come up to play with the side of Jack's hair, playing with the baby strands there and Jack whispers, breath hitting sweet against Alex's waiting tongue and lips, "I knew you were gonna come back tonight."
Alex sniffles, running his thumbs over Jack's nose gently as he stares and Jack is so cute. Alex nods, tilting his head a little and nibbling on Jack's top lip as he mumbles, "So you knew that I was going to leave?"
Jack shakes his head a little, moving forward and pressing his lips hard against Alex's; for a few seconds, it's just that, a press of lips, hearts beating hard enough to be heard in the air, until Alex whimpers and tilts his head once more, tongue just barely pressing against Jack's bottom lip. Jack hums, parting his lips just long enough to slip his own tongue out and fight Alex's back into his mouth.
It takes a while for them to be actually kissing, a steady rhythm of lips and tongues, little noises and tugging at hair, legs tangling and more tears, and it's good. Better than Alex ever imagined, ever hoped to remember, because now it's better. Jack suckles on Alex's bottom lip until Alex is a trembling, whimpering mess, nails digging into Jack's shoulders until Alex bites hard on Jack's top lip and purrs quietly.
Jack lets out a small gasp but his cheeks turn into a soft shade of red at the noise, eyes widening. Alex breathes hard, pressing closer to Jack's body, lips against his jaw until Jack tilts his head and murmurs, "I always knew you'd want to come back."
Alex nearly chokes on his tongue as he blushes hard, pressing his face hard into Jack's neck, and he cries.
--
The next morning, Alex leaves.
He wakes up, walks out of the door and tries to find the right direction home; Jack might keep him safe, but he's not it, and Alex doesn't want him to be someone he can just run to. Alex wants to leave, wants to sprint, wants to take him and his own problems and leave everyone else out of it, because it's no one's fault other than his own.
His eyes sting, hard, because he knows the answer to a question he can't really think about, and it's horrible, terrifying, not knowing what's going to be around the corner, not knowing what to expect and Alex won't know how to respond. Alex is stupid, has a way with words, but he's dumb, small, fragile, vulnerable, and whether he wants to believes it or not, he always will be.
Because Alex is ruined, has been and always will be; he might be able to fix Jack, but no way in hell can Jack try to fix him.
Two steps forward.
No looking back.
Author: thewayudoitt
Rating: PG-15.
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth / Jack Barakat.
Disclaimer: I do not own, though I wish I did.
Summary: Alex guesses he doesn't notice, because Jack's eyes are focused and his gaze is hard, determined for an answer he already knows. All Alex can really do is nod, because it's true and he knows it, even though he wishes he didn't.
Dedications: minacoleta for putting this idea in my head with the whole Alex/Ed Ex(Travis)ganza. voltinstability for just.. being you, and enjoying the angst and fangirling with me when I finally finished. tenderedheart because you're my baby. and for anyone that's wanted and waited for serious!angsty!comforting!Jack, finally. here you go. :)
i know what we wanted and what we thought was going to happen. i don't know how we ever thought it would be easy. you mean so much to me.
It's not real. Alex can barely read from the paper, his hands are shaking so bad. He can feel his throat tighten so hard that it hurts, the pain making his ears ring a little, which is so annoying and is probably gonna lead to a headache later on.
but i think we both know nothing like that was going to happen. i'm sorry that i left, but it's for the best. don't miss me too much.
Too fucking late. Alex feels nothing but a few throbs against his heart, maybe it's because he's not breathing very normally, he's not so sure. Alex really isn't as smart as he would like to be, everyone knows that; but he knows bullshit when he sees it, and this, oh, this is it. Because Alex knew, he always believed, always hoped, always trusted that everything would fall into its place once she left Dean or Sean, what the fuck ever his name was, and Alex always said and promised and forgave when she said things she didn't mean, things that made no sense to him at the time.
"I don't know if we can do this."
"I should just die right now. Then everyone can be happy."
"I don't want to ever leave you. You mean the world to me."
He refuses to believe that it was all a joke, that all the things she said were just to fool with his mind, to laugh about behind his back and Alex wants to stop reading because it hurts more than it ever should, feeling like a lie is blooming inside your stomach and about to flow out of your mouth but he can't because he wants to know why; why him, why his young, naive mind. Why his heart and why not.
i left with him because it feels like its right. i know what we said and our plans, and i don't forget. i won't forget.
Don't get me wrong, I know you've got your life in place.
So why? He doesn't get it, doesn't understand; the meaning isn't being grasped in his hand, but then again, when was this situation on the palm of his hand to begin with? She was here, 3 full years of his life, taking over and leaving him with nothing, because now she's gone and with some other guy that she was afraid of Alex even meeting. And why did Alex believe her in the first place? Because he trusts? Because he's in love? No, because he's a fucking whipped idiot.
i love you so much, alex. i hope you dont forget. P.S. wait for me?
Wait for you to come back and do it all over again? He can't function properly, letting the letter go, but as soon as it floats, away from his reach, he attacks it and brings it back, pressing it tight against his chest until it hurts, his small nails digging through the thin paper and into his muscle shirt, hitting skin. Alex closes his eyes, swallowing hard and thinking he might look like he's dying. But then again, would that really be a big difference? Because Alex knows that no matter how hurt or torn he is, once she comes back again, he'll be on his knees, begging for her forgiveness for something he didn't and couldn't do.
Alex knows it's too much, and anything too much is too much, regardless of the cause. This is a cause he's been fighting for the past 3 years of his life.
I've yet to take the hint. Someday I'll get the picture, and stop waiting up.
But she never leaves a note. She always leaves, waiting for when Alex goes insane, breaks something, preferably inside himself to prove that he needs her, that she's worth something, she must come back; she feeds off it and Alex knows it, but he can't let go, because each time she leaves, it's like the pain feeds him, because he knows that she'll be back sooner or later. She's only doing this because she cares, really, and Alex needs that, craves the thought of being wanted, of having to chase and do something to be wanted and craved back.
But what if that's it? What if all this is for absolutely nothing? What if she will forget, what if she's already forgotten, what if she's comparing Alex to him, what if? What if the whole point of this is to see how far Alex can crack, how much he can need and beg and crave; how hard he shakes, how much he wants; is she here forever? Or will she keep leaving? Is all this time wasted for no reason?
Will you be there to carry home the remains of my wasted youth?
It's questions like these that have Alex biting down on his bottom lip hard enough for it to bleed. He's not going to believe, until she says so herself that she's not coming back, there was nothing like that at all on the letter. There is no proof that she's going to leave him forever.
But then again, the letter itself just might be the proof he needs. These are the last words, those last few words that he will ever dream of getting from her, and it's not enough. It's not, and Alex would rather have too much than not anything at all.
This wasted time on you has left me shaking in waiting for something more.
Alex falls flat on the bed, his breathing coming ragged.
Why can't I have just enough?
--
Alex always knew what he was doing.
Life at home was boring, it was hectic and annoying all at the same time. He had amazing parents and everything else that an ordinary person wants or wanted but that's just it; Alex is not a regular person. He wants and craves pain, wants the torture and he wants the fun and the adventure that people get, easily.
He knew that she was with that guy, always, but he never put an end to it because of the thrill. At first, it was the most excitement he had had in years, the thought of getting caught, the thought of someone catching up and someone trying to stop him. The heat that curled up his arms, onto his cheeks and the faint weakness at the back of his knees when someday, he could look straight into someone's eyes and say, "No."
There's always a time, when it hurt. It killed him, his stomach, his heart. Times like when Jack tried to stop him, when Jack had pulled hard on his arm and told him to snap the fuck out of it, stop getting so caught in this girl, she's ruining you and all Alex could do is tell him to fuck off.
Alex knew what he was doing. Now his eyes burned, hot and prickling behind eyelids because he knows that if he calls Jack, right now, Jack will say the exact same thing as he did when she left the first time.
"I already ran after you once and now I give up. I told you this would happen and fuck you if you didn't believe me. Life isn't a fucking fairytale, and I'm not your Prince Charming that's going to run after you once everything goes wrong. I told you, you didn't listen, and now I'm done."
Alex knew what he was doing. Now, he has no idea what there is to do with it.
--
Him and Jack had a.. thing.
It was one of those things that they never talked about. It happened, it did, and Alex likes to believe that it'll always be there, or at least, it used to be that way. He fucked up and he knows it, because something inside him says that she's not coming back, but Jack never left. Alex had just simply walked away, back straight and head held up high.
But what's going to happen now, that Alex is crawling back on his hands and knees, mud dripping off his back, rain hitting his face, crying and begging for forgiveness? Something Alex always, always promised himself that he would never do, though he has done, so many times, to her?
Would Jack smile and tag along, taking his hand and skipping off? Would Jack tackle Alex to the ground, blame him for everything, blame him for taking his own life away, scream at him until his voice is lost and cry until his tears are dry? Or would Jack simply let one tear fall, and shake his head, no?
It was simple then, the smiles, the laughter. Alex squeezes his eyes shut, to keep the burning away, and it feels weird. Alex has never missed Jack so much in his entire life. Because he knows that Jack would know exactly what to do, how to act, when Alex would want a hug or a screamfest (because Alex is weird and actually needs those), if Alex would want to sit alone or want to watch Family Guy together on Jack's bed, hot tea and all.
The memories seep in and it makes Alex's throat reflex from holding back all the tears, and he knows it won't work for long because the barrier is already so huge, and whether he wants to believe it or not, he does have limits.
She taught him to forget, to let go, to never look back and to always climb over those barriers. But then again, isn't that exactly what Jack was trying to do? What Jack failed at so miserably, because Alex let him go first? The difference is, if Alex hadn't been a complete and utter asshole, Jack would still be here, and it would still be a happy ending, because Jack is Jack and Alex is nothing without him.
She was nothing but a stand in, and Alex was hooked from the beginning.
The flavor of your lips is enough to keep me here.
He wasn't ashamed of being with her, he felt important and needed, because she wanted him to be the person she used, to feel happy and free, even though she was married and had to be kept locked in a cage. Alex craved that feeling, and now it was gone.
Jack is the only person that Alex could just be with, without having to change or fight or pretend. Alex was happy, but he was blinded, and Jack knew but he waited regardless, until Alex left and threw it all to the trash.
Jack knew all along, and will continue to know, even while Alex pretends that he knows as well.
--
It's strange for Alex, being in this situation.
He stares at the mirror and hopes that it shatters in the middle, right through his reflection and hopefully through his soul. He raises an eyebrow, watches as the image copies his movement and he clenches a fist, hard.
Alex wants to punch it, feel the shards of glass slice through his skin, wants to kneel over the toilet and throw up his dignity.
It's strange, because this is the kind of thing he always kept her from doing to herself.
--
Alex's eyes burn enough that he can barely blink, yet he wants to blink so bad that it makes his toes curl.
He can't hold the barrier up for too long, it's too big and Alex, Alex is tiny. Too tiny and fragile and weak and the adjectives slice through his brain like a knife.
Undersized. Delicate. Insignificant. Unimportant. Vulnerable.
He swallows once, blinking and glancing at the mirror next to his bed; his eyes land, stop, and he sees it, the barrier slowly falling apart behind his eyelids.
Alex squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a wounded animal noise, a tortured gasp, and gets off his bed, digging the heels of his hands against his eyes, hard. He hisses, feeling a shiver curl up his spine and Alex nearly falls over from the force of the shudder, clamping his lips together.
When Alex opens his eyes again, he's crouching on the floor and sharp flashes of light keep hitting his vision from the release of his hands. His palms are wet, soaked from salt water and it's dried, cracking on his cheeks. His eyes burn so much more now, even through the slight relief.
Half the barrier is gone and Alex knows he can't continue to carry it himself; it's a lost battle, and Alex can't fight through it alone.
--
He's 2 houses away when he realizes what he's actually about to do.
Two steps forward.
One step back.
His fingers keep clenching hard, pulling at his shirt and Alex feels stupid for not putting on any kind of hoodie because the wind is cold and his cheeks are red.
He can't knock, because Jack's mom and dad are home, for sure, and that would just be weird and start up drama. His own mom doesn't know he left, so that wouldn't do any good.
If Alex didn't know what he was doing all along, right now, he feels as if he knows exactly what's about to happen.
You learn from your mistakes, but if you know you're about to make one, do you still go for it?
Alex doesn't answer his own question because the wind is too cold and his fingers hurt as they curl around the cold, dry wood of the tree they climbed a few times. It takes a few tries, a few heaves, but Alex didn't go through a weights-obsession for nothing, so he makes it to the top of the branch, where his feet stand safely.
He blinks, staring at the window; its paint is peeling and it looks kind of weird, old, as if Alex hadn't faced it so many times during the night, during this time. For a full 6 seconds, Alex thinks hard about jumping off the branch and not doing this, because then maybe he'd break an arm or a leg and then he would need drugs for pain, and maybe that would make the pain go away.
But then again, the pain would only stay away for a few hours, and Alex knows that if Jack is still here, still laying down on the same bed, listening to the same Blink-182 CD on repeat, the pain will go away long enough for Alex to forget why it was there in the first place.
So he pushes the window open, the creak not loud enough to be heard on the first floor, where Mr. Jack's Dad and Mrs. Jack's Mom are supposedly watching TV or making out, whichever works. Alex licks his lips, though they're soaking wet and nearly bleeding from his teeth and places a firm hand against the side of the open window, swinging his leg over in a lucky slide and breathing out through his nose once his foot hits the floor, glancing at the stairs, tense.
Another 4 seconds of thinking No you can't do this, you're breaking and entering, he'll just kick you out again, you deserve it anyway, and Alex is standing in the hallway, rock clogged in his throat as he swings the window shut, quietly. He glances again at the staircase leading to downstairs and he can hear the usual music coming from behind the bedroom door; it makes his insides squeeze together and Alex's knees nearly give out.
When he opens the door, Alex is greeted by Jack laying flat on the bed, some random Junie B. Jones book open and draped over his face; the only sign that he's really alive is the fact that his foot keeps bobbing with the music and Alex fights the urge to punch himself in the stomach for ever letting him go.
He takes a shaky breath in, knowing Jack probably heard that, so he reaches over to the portable radio and presses a firm finger against the pause button.
Immediately, Jack's foot stops and it seems like his entire body jumps from how tense he suddenly becomes. Alex doesn't know how to react; the first thing he thinks of doing is getting on his knees and apologizing over and over before sucking him off or something. The next thing he thinks is how can he manage to jump out of the window and erase this fact from Jack's memory forever.
But his thoughts are way too late, because Jack removes the book from his face and lets it fall to the floor; his eyes stare straight up to the ceiling, unblinking and steady and before Alex can help himself, he comments, "I gave you that."
Jack visibly swallows, his Adams apple bobbing slightly. He doesn't look over, doesn't try to smile.
"Yeah. You did."
And the voice change is so different from hers, so deep and yet so much warmer; it's smooth and rich, makes Alex's mouth water and his stomach explode and Alex maybe kind of feels his bottom lip shiver.
Alex tries to calm down his own Adams apple, it's doing such a good job to keep him together and if it fails him now, he would probably have to cut it off. "I never technically gave you it. You just never gave it back."
"You never gave me the chance to."
The answer is so sudden that Alex can feel a spark of anger shoot through his arms and stomach, his legs weakening.
"I missed that."
Jack blinks, the first time.
Alex's voice weakens, "It used to bring back good memories."
Jack nods, slow and careful. "Yeah. That's why I was re-reading it. Again."
And he sits up, eyes still looking forward and Alex, subconsciously, makes a step, then quickly takes it back. Jack's head turns, falling on Alex's shoes and Alex can feel heat hurl onto his face. They're acting like children, he knows it, completely avoiding the subject yet totally talking about it at the same time and it makes him want to scream and break shit around the room.
"When did you become such a smartass?"
"When you became an asshole."
Alex shivers, his throat hurting now. "Dude.."
Two steps forward.
Jack does this weird little laugh thing, covers his face. "Don't fucking do this again, Alex. Okay? Please."
One step back.
"Do what?" and now Alex's voice is cracking, his chest being held back by some kind of mystical power because he kind of wants to start heaving for air.
Jack makes this pained noise, letting his hands fall and his eyes land directly on Alex's and they're wet and shining, so hurt that Alex flinches. "This! This fucking shit that you always do! Do you think that we're all just waiting around for you to come running back when that cunt leaves you, dude?"
Jack's lips shake hard. "Because we can't just arrange this kind of shit, y'know? If you're going to leave, then fucking stay there."
Alex can feel the tears and they're running down again, sliding and hitting his cheeks, splashing onto his shirt and he wants to stop, wants to explain, because he gets it, but Jack doesn't and it's so fucking much that Alex can't breathe.
Jack pulls hard at his hair, eyes squeezing tight. "Please."
And he breathes out, shaky and all Alex can say is, "I'm sorry, okay?"
Jack doesn't answer, but he laughs, tugging harder at the locks and Alex continues because his chest can't stay quiet for long.
"I'm so, so fucking sorry, okay? I don't know what to say and I don't know what I can say to make you forgive me because I fucking know that I shouldn't be forgiven, I'm really not worth it and you might not need me, but fuck, Jack, I need you so much, okay? I do and I know it and I'm pretty sure you know it and she probably knew it too, which is why she took me away from you and -"
"Left you in the dirt, again, just for you to go fucking running back to her even when you had all of us with you?" Jack says and it's loud, he's standing and facing Alex and Alex, he's tiny, fragile.
Vulnerable.
Alex flinches, throat clogging and his hands pull hard at his shirt. He wants to move forward, fall into the embrace of Jack's chest, wants to feel, remember the warmth, wants to be safe again in that scent that he always craved; musky and warm, a bit salty but sweet all the same and Alex honest-to-God shudders at the memory, right there in front of Jack.
Alex guesses he doesn't notice, because Jack's eyes are focused and his gaze is hard, determined for an answer he already knows. All Alex can really do is nod, because it's true and he knows it, even though he wishes he didn't.
Jack's gaze softens, only enough for it to be noticed, but not enough for it to make Alex any less tense and Alex can't tell if it's a good thing.
".. Why are you doing this."
It's soft-spoken, low and breathy and it makes Alex's stomach curl, wishing that Jack would start screaming already. When he doesn't answer, doesn't know how he could possibly try to, Jack says, "If you know you're just going to leave again, why are you coming back? Do you think that taking me down with you will make this all better? A better ride for your sick, deluded brain?"
Jack's eyes fill up to the brim with tears and Alex can feel his barrier fall, in slow motion, because he's just now understanding that Jack isn't as strong as he's cracked up to be. "Why does it have to be me? Go hurt someone else for once, okay? Please."
He's begging and Alex knows it, it feels weird to be on the other side. Alex takes one step forward, his lips tugging downwards from the sudden force of sorrow hitting his body.
"I need you to help me stay," is what Alex can come up with at the moment; it's sudden, ripped away from a part of his brain that he could have sworn he let go, but now it's there, it's floating in the air, waving in front of Jack, taunting, and Alex isn't very sure if he regrets it or not.
He has never regret anything in his life, ever, but admitting the reason why he's possibly been going through all of this for all this time, is the hardest thing Alex ever had to do.
Jack stares, sharp and hard into Alex's eyes and Alex seriously thinks that Jack is going to slap him across the face or something. He just simply says, walking away from Alex, shaking his head, "I don't fucking need this," and it's worse, worse than any pain Alex has ever felt because Jack is letting him go now, Jack is finally realizing that Alex is nothing, not worth it, and Alex suddenly knows.
It hits him like a ton of bricks, that Jack was there and now he's probably not going to be anymore, ever, because of Alex himself. The reason that Alex is standing on this floor tonight, is because of Jack; everything he is, everything he resembles, Jack helped with and Jack made him. They're a part of each other and it's scary, but Alex can't let it go, because then, what will he have to lose when she leaves again?
But all those thoughts are put to the side when Alex finally thinks, What will I have to lose, when she comes back and I deny her?
Alex bites hard on his bottom lip, enough for it to hurt and make his nerves tremble a little and he's sure he can taste a small line of blood when he asks, whispers, "So you're walking away too?"
And it's so quiet that Alex doesn't know if Jack actually heard him; he doesn't check, just looks up to the ceiling and lets the tears begin to fall faster as his voice breaks, quickly with each shaky breath. "Are you really just going to let me go? Jack.. you're my only fucking hope right now."
Alex feels as if he's begging for another chance at recovering from drugs and in a way, he kind of is. His eyes are heavy and flowing, his face sticky and wet and he sniffles hard, feeling his throat clog; Alex glances over at Jack, finally, his eyes landing and Jack's tears are all over the place as well. Alex isn't sure if it's a good thing.
Breathing shakily, chest shuddering a bit, he whispers, "You mean every fucking thing to me, Jack. You know that," Alex states before feeling his chin shiver a little, "Please don't take it away from me."
Jack whispers, "You walked away first. You have no idea how much that broke me."
Alex is trying so hard to not break, even though he knows he's seconds away from it. He feels his face change into a pained look, his hands coming up to his hair, pulling in anger, in regret, but he sobs out, "So let me fix it. Please?"
And it's just then that Alex can feel the whole of him shatter, his chest feeling like it exploded and sobs overcome him, his legs weakening but he's still standing, somehow, something holding him up; it's not strong, but it's firm, sure, and it makes Alex shake all over, his cries fighting to become louder but Jack stops him. His arms are there, around Alex, tight, and Alex finally allows himself to fall, crumbles down the barrier himself, because he's kind of sure that now, Jack will be there to help him build it up again.
Alex presses his face into Jack's neck, warm and welcome and Jack squeezes his shoulders close, right against his own chest. Alex can feel tears hitting his cheeks, hard like boulders and his sobs shake through him, shivering through Jack's body also, but Jack doesn't let go, doesn't make any hint that he might let go any time soon, and Alex is so grateful that he maybe starts crying even harder. Alex's fingers pull at the shirt Jack is wearing because he doesn't want to hurt him any more, knows that he would be digging his nails into his skin, but then when Alex notices the shirt, he knows it's his own, the one he was wearing the first night they were together like this. Knowing that, Alex shudders, murmuring, "I'm so sorry," into his neck and all Jack says back is, "I know, baby boy."
He never noticed how much he would miss that, that little nickname, but it hits home hard enough for Alex to seriously feel like he's about to collapse and he kind of maybe does, legs buckling and Jack pulls him up just in time, knowing it was coming. "Come on, it's okay," Jack whispers in a soft voice, against Alex's ear as he holds him up and walks him towards the bed with easy steps, grasping tight at his arms. Alex suddenly doesn't want to stay on Jack's bed, it's wrong, he's done so much wrong already in his life, so he whines, "No, Jack, wait," and tries to pull away.
Jack kind of smiles, knowing what he's trying to do and sits down on the bed, pulling Alex down on top of him, on his lap as he lays back down properly; Alex wants to complain, he really does, but then it's Jack and Jack's bed and it's all so old but so new at the same time and Alex allows his eyes to close, but the tears don't stop. They slide slowly down his cheeks, one by one, following the lines of the others and pooling down onto his jaw, where Jack's lips are suddenly pressed.
Alex opens his eyes, slow and hazy and he's shaking from the calming sobs, his breathing coming in jumps and he finally notices how close they are together. They're both on their sides, facing each other, Alex's hands still pulling at Jack's (his) shirt, tight and desperate and Jack entangles their legs together as Alex stares with awe on how everything changed with a few words.
He can't help but whisper in a sore voice, "Was it something I said?"
Jack smiles only a little bit, because his tears are still coming too, but his eyes sparkle like a little kid's as he leans forward; it's soft, a brush of lips and Alex's mouth falls open at the blink of an eye, shocked but expecting all the same. Alex's fingers come up to play with the side of Jack's hair, playing with the baby strands there and Jack whispers, breath hitting sweet against Alex's waiting tongue and lips, "I knew you were gonna come back tonight."
Alex sniffles, running his thumbs over Jack's nose gently as he stares and Jack is so cute. Alex nods, tilting his head a little and nibbling on Jack's top lip as he mumbles, "So you knew that I was going to leave?"
Jack shakes his head a little, moving forward and pressing his lips hard against Alex's; for a few seconds, it's just that, a press of lips, hearts beating hard enough to be heard in the air, until Alex whimpers and tilts his head once more, tongue just barely pressing against Jack's bottom lip. Jack hums, parting his lips just long enough to slip his own tongue out and fight Alex's back into his mouth.
It takes a while for them to be actually kissing, a steady rhythm of lips and tongues, little noises and tugging at hair, legs tangling and more tears, and it's good. Better than Alex ever imagined, ever hoped to remember, because now it's better. Jack suckles on Alex's bottom lip until Alex is a trembling, whimpering mess, nails digging into Jack's shoulders until Alex bites hard on Jack's top lip and purrs quietly.
Jack lets out a small gasp but his cheeks turn into a soft shade of red at the noise, eyes widening. Alex breathes hard, pressing closer to Jack's body, lips against his jaw until Jack tilts his head and murmurs, "I always knew you'd want to come back."
Alex nearly chokes on his tongue as he blushes hard, pressing his face hard into Jack's neck, and he cries.
--
The next morning, Alex leaves.
He wakes up, walks out of the door and tries to find the right direction home; Jack might keep him safe, but he's not it, and Alex doesn't want him to be someone he can just run to. Alex wants to leave, wants to sprint, wants to take him and his own problems and leave everyone else out of it, because it's no one's fault other than his own.
His eyes sting, hard, because he knows the answer to a question he can't really think about, and it's horrible, terrifying, not knowing what's going to be around the corner, not knowing what to expect and Alex won't know how to respond. Alex is stupid, has a way with words, but he's dumb, small, fragile, vulnerable, and whether he wants to believes it or not, he always will be.
Because Alex is ruined, has been and always will be; he might be able to fix Jack, but no way in hell can Jack try to fix him.
Two steps forward.
No looking back.