You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You (Nine)
Title: You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You
Authors:
turnthepageover
Rating: NC-17 Overall.
Pairing: Eventual Jalex.
Point of View: Third.
Summary: "You think this is fucking funny?! You're sick, Alex! I'm not some animal! I'm not something you can just keep for your entertainment! Come the fuck down here!"
Disclaimer: I do not own them. Story title comes from Poison by All Time Low.
Warning: Violence.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
Alex kissed him back with force, wrestling his tongue against Jack's until he went limp. Alex felt Jack's body slump against his and he paused, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. He removed his mouth from Jack's, keeping a tight hold on Jack's wrists and pinning his unconscious body to the wall. He pressed his lips back against Jack's, pressing his body as tightly against his as he could.
He pulled away after a few moments, feeling Jack's body fall limply against his. Alex sighed, wrapping his arms around Jack and maneuvering him so he was laid out in the tub. He turned, moving towards the sink. He opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out two of the first-aid kits and setting them on the counter. He closed the medicine cabinet, looking up and into the mirror.
He watched the eyes squint just slightly, smile tugging into an arrogant smirk.
"Way to go, Gaskarth," his reflection spoke, staring back at the man cheekily.
"You did this," Alex murmured, referring to the unconscious Jack laying in the tub, bleeding.
"I was just giving you a little push, you pathetic worm. You should know being a pussy isn't going to get you anywhere in this life," his reflection stated, and Alex felt his hands shake.
"I don't need you to push me. I love Jack. I don't want to hurt him," he answered.
"You can love him all you want, but that won't get you anywhere. You need me, Alexander. If it wasn't for me you would still be at home, fawning over him from afar like the bitch you are."
"I don't need you! You ruin everything!" Alex yelled, feeling his heartbeat in his ears as his blood pressure sky-rocketed.
"You do need me!" His reflection reared up, eyes growing into slits. "You would be fucking nothing without me! Nothing!"
Alex let out a growl, slamming his hand on the counter. The force knocked the supplies to the ground, causing the kit to open and much of the materials to scatter across the tile. This tore Alex's attention away from the mirror and he looked down, quickly dropping to his knees to collect the items. Once he had them all in his hands he tucked them into the box, standing up. He looked into the mirror again, but saw only his flushed face looking back at him.
Alex moved over to the bath tub, sitting on a plastic stool and laying the tools out in front of him. He moved Jack's body closer to his, taking his head in his hands to examine the cut. It really wasn't that deep, he found. It was actually quite superficial, more of a bang than a cut. It was bleeding so profoundly only because it was a head wound.
Alex allowed Jack's head to rest against the wall, moving to get a wash cloth. He found a red one, turning the sink on and wetting it down. He sat back down on the stool, bringing Jack's head to him once again and beginning to clean the blood away from the cut. He firmly pressed the cloth to the cut, holding it there and looking down at Jack's face.
He had a fading bruise on the top of his cheek, and Alex ran his hand over it. He touched the bruise on his jaw, leaning forward to kiss it. Alex admired the beautiful pale face, scruffy from lack of grooming. Alex reminded himself to allow Jack to use his shower later on.
After a few minutes had passed he pulled the cloth away, examining the cut. He agreed with his previous observation that it was nothing too serious. He opened the first-aid kit, taking out a package of butterfly bandages. He placed two of them carefully on the cut to keep it closed. Next he grabbed some gauze, putting it in place. He then grabbed a hold of a wrap, unraveling it and beginning to wrap it around Jack's head. He tied it to keep it in place, kissing his forehead gently before closing the kit.
"I'm sorry, baby," he mumbled softly. "I love you. I would never hurt you."
He situated Jack's body, sliding his arm under his knees and picking him up. His head rested on Alex's shoulder, and Alex held him tightly.
Alex left the room, walking back towards the stairs. He wasn't sure how Jack would react when he woke up. He would probably freak out and be upset. Well, of course he would be when he woke up to a bandage around his head. How would Alex explain that if Jack didn't remember?
It may have been Jack's fault, walking into the tub and tripping. But it was really his fault. He had taken Alex over once again. Alex had tried as hard as he could to suppress him, but sometimes he was just took strong for Alex to control.
Alex reached the door, feeling his arms growing tired from Jack's weight. He could also feel Jack's shirt rubbing against his the scabbing cuts of his wrist, making it ache. He walked down the stairs carefully, peering over Jack's body and trying to see where the next step was. Once he reached the bottom he walked over to the bed, laying his limp body on it. He pulled the blanket up over him, touching his hair gently and kissing his forehead again. Alex thought he was beautiful.
He smiled sadly, standing up and making sure Jack was snug under the blanket. He walked back to the stairs, shutting the door behind him and sliding the lock into place.
He walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the bleach out from under the kitchen sink. He grabbed a few old rags before venturing back into the bathroom.
The blood covering the bath tub made the small room look like a murder scene. Alex cringed, feeling his stomach churn as he looked at all of it. He could feel himself growing slightly dizzy as he dropped down to his knees, unscrewing the lid from the bleach. He tried to ignore the sickness in his gut as he stuck a shaky hand toward the carton, but he couldn't as the bile began rising up in his throat. He scrambled towards the toilet, knocking the bleach over as he lifted the seat up and stuck his head over the porcelain bowl.
He gagged, spitting out the vomit as it forced its way up his throat. He could feel the tears sting his eyes as he clutched the seat so hard his knuckles became white. He sat up shakily, picking the upset bleach bottle up and screwing the lid back on. He used the rags he had grabbed to soak up the bleach, beginning to scrub the scarlet off of the shock white tile.
He scrubbed and scrubbed, cleaning the blood off the tile and off of the tub. His wrists ached as he continued scrubbing even after it was all gone. He couldn't bear to miss a spot and leave a reminder of what had happened. He needed it all to be gone.
Alex sighed, throwing the cloth down in the bath tub after he was satisfied with the job. He stepped out of the tub, washing his hands and drying them off with one of the fluffy towels. He left the bathroom, going out into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. He would have only one glass. Anymore and he would find a way back.I'm so, so, so, so, so, so sorry about how long you guys have waited.
I've been trying so hard to get this updated.
Last week I learned that I'm going to have to take this on myself because my co-author does not want to write it with me anymore. It sucks, but I do not want to give this story up, so I'm going to deal with.
And I hope this chapter didn't confuse you. I introduced a new concept.
Alex has Dissociative Identity Disorder, or Multiple Personality Disorder. I'm sure a lot of people may have figured that out by now.
But this is the first time his other personality has been introduced in the story. And obviously he's not very nice.
I feel like he needs a name, though. Any suggestions?
Authors:
turnthepageover
Rating: NC-17 Overall.
Pairing: Eventual Jalex.
Point of View: Third.
Summary: "You think this is fucking funny?! You're sick, Alex! I'm not some animal! I'm not something you can just keep for your entertainment! Come the fuck down here!"
Disclaimer: I do not own them. Story title comes from Poison by All Time Low.
Warning: Violence.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
Alex kissed him back with force, wrestling his tongue against Jack's until he went limp. Alex felt Jack's body slump against his and he paused, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. He removed his mouth from Jack's, keeping a tight hold on Jack's wrists and pinning his unconscious body to the wall. He pressed his lips back against Jack's, pressing his body as tightly against his as he could.
He pulled away after a few moments, feeling Jack's body fall limply against his. Alex sighed, wrapping his arms around Jack and maneuvering him so he was laid out in the tub. He turned, moving towards the sink. He opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out two of the first-aid kits and setting them on the counter. He closed the medicine cabinet, looking up and into the mirror.
He watched the eyes squint just slightly, smile tugging into an arrogant smirk.
"Way to go, Gaskarth," his reflection spoke, staring back at the man cheekily.
"You did this," Alex murmured, referring to the unconscious Jack laying in the tub, bleeding.
"I was just giving you a little push, you pathetic worm. You should know being a pussy isn't going to get you anywhere in this life," his reflection stated, and Alex felt his hands shake.
"I don't need you to push me. I love Jack. I don't want to hurt him," he answered.
"You can love him all you want, but that won't get you anywhere. You need me, Alexander. If it wasn't for me you would still be at home, fawning over him from afar like the bitch you are."
"I don't need you! You ruin everything!" Alex yelled, feeling his heartbeat in his ears as his blood pressure sky-rocketed.
"You do need me!" His reflection reared up, eyes growing into slits. "You would be fucking nothing without me! Nothing!"
Alex let out a growl, slamming his hand on the counter. The force knocked the supplies to the ground, causing the kit to open and much of the materials to scatter across the tile. This tore Alex's attention away from the mirror and he looked down, quickly dropping to his knees to collect the items. Once he had them all in his hands he tucked them into the box, standing up. He looked into the mirror again, but saw only his flushed face looking back at him.
Alex moved over to the bath tub, sitting on a plastic stool and laying the tools out in front of him. He moved Jack's body closer to his, taking his head in his hands to examine the cut. It really wasn't that deep, he found. It was actually quite superficial, more of a bang than a cut. It was bleeding so profoundly only because it was a head wound.
Alex allowed Jack's head to rest against the wall, moving to get a wash cloth. He found a red one, turning the sink on and wetting it down. He sat back down on the stool, bringing Jack's head to him once again and beginning to clean the blood away from the cut. He firmly pressed the cloth to the cut, holding it there and looking down at Jack's face.
He had a fading bruise on the top of his cheek, and Alex ran his hand over it. He touched the bruise on his jaw, leaning forward to kiss it. Alex admired the beautiful pale face, scruffy from lack of grooming. Alex reminded himself to allow Jack to use his shower later on.
After a few minutes had passed he pulled the cloth away, examining the cut. He agreed with his previous observation that it was nothing too serious. He opened the first-aid kit, taking out a package of butterfly bandages. He placed two of them carefully on the cut to keep it closed. Next he grabbed some gauze, putting it in place. He then grabbed a hold of a wrap, unraveling it and beginning to wrap it around Jack's head. He tied it to keep it in place, kissing his forehead gently before closing the kit.
"I'm sorry, baby," he mumbled softly. "I love you. I would never hurt you."
He situated Jack's body, sliding his arm under his knees and picking him up. His head rested on Alex's shoulder, and Alex held him tightly.
Alex left the room, walking back towards the stairs. He wasn't sure how Jack would react when he woke up. He would probably freak out and be upset. Well, of course he would be when he woke up to a bandage around his head. How would Alex explain that if Jack didn't remember?
It may have been Jack's fault, walking into the tub and tripping. But it was really his fault. He had taken Alex over once again. Alex had tried as hard as he could to suppress him, but sometimes he was just took strong for Alex to control.
Alex reached the door, feeling his arms growing tired from Jack's weight. He could also feel Jack's shirt rubbing against his the scabbing cuts of his wrist, making it ache. He walked down the stairs carefully, peering over Jack's body and trying to see where the next step was. Once he reached the bottom he walked over to the bed, laying his limp body on it. He pulled the blanket up over him, touching his hair gently and kissing his forehead again. Alex thought he was beautiful.
He smiled sadly, standing up and making sure Jack was snug under the blanket. He walked back to the stairs, shutting the door behind him and sliding the lock into place.
He walked back to the kitchen, grabbing the bleach out from under the kitchen sink. He grabbed a few old rags before venturing back into the bathroom.
The blood covering the bath tub made the small room look like a murder scene. Alex cringed, feeling his stomach churn as he looked at all of it. He could feel himself growing slightly dizzy as he dropped down to his knees, unscrewing the lid from the bleach. He tried to ignore the sickness in his gut as he stuck a shaky hand toward the carton, but he couldn't as the bile began rising up in his throat. He scrambled towards the toilet, knocking the bleach over as he lifted the seat up and stuck his head over the porcelain bowl.
He gagged, spitting out the vomit as it forced its way up his throat. He could feel the tears sting his eyes as he clutched the seat so hard his knuckles became white. He sat up shakily, picking the upset bleach bottle up and screwing the lid back on. He used the rags he had grabbed to soak up the bleach, beginning to scrub the scarlet off of the shock white tile.
He scrubbed and scrubbed, cleaning the blood off the tile and off of the tub. His wrists ached as he continued scrubbing even after it was all gone. He couldn't bear to miss a spot and leave a reminder of what had happened. He needed it all to be gone.
Alex sighed, throwing the cloth down in the bath tub after he was satisfied with the job. He stepped out of the tub, washing his hands and drying them off with one of the fluffy towels. He left the bathroom, going out into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass. He would have only one glass. Anymore and he would find a way back.I'm so, so, so, so, so, so sorry about how long you guys have waited.
I've been trying so hard to get this updated.
Last week I learned that I'm going to have to take this on myself because my co-author does not want to write it with me anymore. It sucks, but I do not want to give this story up, so I'm going to deal with.
And I hope this chapter didn't confuse you. I introduced a new concept.
Alex has Dissociative Identity Disorder, or Multiple Personality Disorder. I'm sure a lot of people may have figured that out by now.
But this is the first time his other personality has been introduced in the story. And obviously he's not very nice.
I feel like he needs a name, though. Any suggestions?