I Don't Care If It Hurts (One)
Title: I Don't Care If It Hurts
Authors:
turnthepageover
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Alex was tired of his life. He tried to end it, but he failed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Alex, or anyone in the lovely band and crew that make up All Time Low. They all own each other. Amen.
Alex lay flat across the roof over his front porch, staring up at the sky and watching the clouds swirl by overhead. He extended his right arm out, allowing his wrist to bend so his hand was dangling over the edge of the roof, knowing it was the only part of him that would be visible to a passerby. Not that he cared. Not that anyone else passing by would care if they looked up and saw a teenage boy sprawled out across his rooftop.
Stupid kid, they would mumble. Doesn’t he know how dangerous that is? What kind of mother allows her child to do something that ridiculous?
Alex snorted at the thought, closing his eyes briefly to moisten his corneas. He turned his head, looking into his open window only to see the blue curtains fluttering with the breeze. His room was empty, door closed to shield him from his nosy mother. She’d have a fit if she knew he was out on the roof.
He took a deep breath, raising his eyes back to the sky. The cloud continued to pass, looking as fluffy and white as pillows. Alex found it hard to believe that they were made up of only dust and water. The first of many disappointments in his life.
He turned his head to the side, looking down his arm until he saw where his wrist dipped and his hand disappeared from view. He wiggled his fingers, feeling nothing as they moved through the air.
He wondered how high up he was. Probably only a few yards, his house was just a normal two story house. So his chances of falling to his death from the roof were probably slim. Unless he landed funny and hit his neck.
He contemplated it, rolling to the right and laying on his stomach. He lifted his head, looking over the edge and at the lawn directly below him. It wasn’t that far, but it could still definitely do some damage.
He stretched his left arm out, dangling it over the edge. He twisted his fingers around, drawing imaginary pictures in the green grass.
He wonder if he should try it. The worst thing that would happen was that it didn’t work, and he’d only have to brush himself off and go inside to face his mother. She would screech at him about being dirty, and demand to know how he had gotten outside without leaving his room. He could hear her voice already in his head, and he closed his eyes tightly.
“What the hell,” he mumbled, pushing himself off and rolling the rest of the way off the flat surface.
He looked up as he fell, smiling softly. It felt good, almost as if he was flying. As if he were weightless for just a few seconds, with no pressure or no worries on his back.
But the free feeling only lasted a moment at the most. He hit the grass with a thud, groaning and automatically grabbing his arm. It throbbed with pain and he looked at it, finding a deep gash in his shoulder where a stick had cut into it. He groaned, laying his head back and hearing the screen door open and slam shut.
“Alexander!” his mother yelled, running to him and settling on the grass next to him. “What happened?!”
“I fell off the roof,” he mumbled, not opening his eyes.
“Have you gone mad? What were you doing on the roof?!” she demanded, moving his hand and seeing the blood leaking from the wound. “Oh my goodness! We need to get you to the hospital!”
“No, mom, it’s okay,” he said but she shushed him.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex! I’ll go get my keys and we’ll go to the emergency room,” she said, hurrying away and back inside. He sighed, shaking his head at his mother. She overreacted about everything.
He heard the door slam shut and then footsteps rushing over to him.
“Okay, come on,” his mother’s voice insisted and he looked up, seeing her unraveling gauze in front of him. He sat up slowly and she shoved the white material into his hands, pulling him off the ground.
“Relax, mom,” he mumbled, pressing the gauze to his arm and seeing the blood already seeping through it.
“Get in the car, Alex,” she said, rushing over to it and starting the engine. He slid inside the passenger seat door, resting his forehead against the cool glass. “What were you thinking? How many times have I told you to stay off of the roof?! Do you realize how dangerous it is?!”
“Yes, mother,” he said apathetically.
“You could died, Alex! You could have broken your neck and killed yourself! Or you could have paralyzed yourself! You would have been stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of your life!” she yelled, glancing over at him periodically. “You need to start thinking things over, Alexander! You cannot be so damn impulsive! Now you’re going to need stitches, and Lord knows how much those are going to cost! I don’t have the money for all of this!”
“Then don’t take me to the hospital,” he said, looking over at her. “I already told you I’m fine.”
“Did you hit your head? Oh, you probably have a concussion too! You are not fine, Alex. You’re bleeding all over the place!” she exclaimed and he sighed, rolling his eyes and resting his head back against the window. He could feel a dull ache beginning in his head as he tried to drown out his mother’s nagging voice.
***
“Here, sweetheart,” his mother said sweetly, standing in front of him with a glass of ice water and one of his pain pills. He looked up at her, giving her a half-smile before taking both things from her.
“Thanks,” he muttered, popping the pill into his mouth and washing it down with the water.
“What do you want for dinner, honey?” she asked, and he could see her worried eyes running over the five fresh sutures in his shoulder.
“I’m not really that hungry,” he answered, leaning back against the couch.
“Nonsense. You have to eat with those pills or you’ll get horribly sick,” she insisted, but he remained quiet. “I’ll make you grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
His mother turned before he could respond and he shook his head, taking a sip of his water and leaning back. He grabbed the remote, turning on the television.
His hand moved idly up to his shoulder, running his fingers over the sensitive skin around the stitches. He hissed gently, closing his eyes as he pressed down. Pain shot through his arm, but he didn’t pull move his fingers away. He pressed on, releasing endorphins to put his mind at ease. He moved his hand away, opening his eyes and looking back at the television. He rested his head on the pillow, feeling the tension slowly melt away for the time being.
♠ ♠ ♠
New story :)
I'm slowly molding it into what I want.
Hope you guys like it <3
Authors:
turnthepageover
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Alex was tired of his life. He tried to end it, but he failed.
Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Alex, or anyone in the lovely band and crew that make up All Time Low. They all own each other. Amen.
Alex lay flat across the roof over his front porch, staring up at the sky and watching the clouds swirl by overhead. He extended his right arm out, allowing his wrist to bend so his hand was dangling over the edge of the roof, knowing it was the only part of him that would be visible to a passerby. Not that he cared. Not that anyone else passing by would care if they looked up and saw a teenage boy sprawled out across his rooftop.
Stupid kid, they would mumble. Doesn’t he know how dangerous that is? What kind of mother allows her child to do something that ridiculous?
Alex snorted at the thought, closing his eyes briefly to moisten his corneas. He turned his head, looking into his open window only to see the blue curtains fluttering with the breeze. His room was empty, door closed to shield him from his nosy mother. She’d have a fit if she knew he was out on the roof.
He took a deep breath, raising his eyes back to the sky. The cloud continued to pass, looking as fluffy and white as pillows. Alex found it hard to believe that they were made up of only dust and water. The first of many disappointments in his life.
He turned his head to the side, looking down his arm until he saw where his wrist dipped and his hand disappeared from view. He wiggled his fingers, feeling nothing as they moved through the air.
He wondered how high up he was. Probably only a few yards, his house was just a normal two story house. So his chances of falling to his death from the roof were probably slim. Unless he landed funny and hit his neck.
He contemplated it, rolling to the right and laying on his stomach. He lifted his head, looking over the edge and at the lawn directly below him. It wasn’t that far, but it could still definitely do some damage.
He stretched his left arm out, dangling it over the edge. He twisted his fingers around, drawing imaginary pictures in the green grass.
He wonder if he should try it. The worst thing that would happen was that it didn’t work, and he’d only have to brush himself off and go inside to face his mother. She would screech at him about being dirty, and demand to know how he had gotten outside without leaving his room. He could hear her voice already in his head, and he closed his eyes tightly.
“What the hell,” he mumbled, pushing himself off and rolling the rest of the way off the flat surface.
He looked up as he fell, smiling softly. It felt good, almost as if he was flying. As if he were weightless for just a few seconds, with no pressure or no worries on his back.
But the free feeling only lasted a moment at the most. He hit the grass with a thud, groaning and automatically grabbing his arm. It throbbed with pain and he looked at it, finding a deep gash in his shoulder where a stick had cut into it. He groaned, laying his head back and hearing the screen door open and slam shut.
“Alexander!” his mother yelled, running to him and settling on the grass next to him. “What happened?!”
“I fell off the roof,” he mumbled, not opening his eyes.
“Have you gone mad? What were you doing on the roof?!” she demanded, moving his hand and seeing the blood leaking from the wound. “Oh my goodness! We need to get you to the hospital!”
“No, mom, it’s okay,” he said but she shushed him.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Alex! I’ll go get my keys and we’ll go to the emergency room,” she said, hurrying away and back inside. He sighed, shaking his head at his mother. She overreacted about everything.
He heard the door slam shut and then footsteps rushing over to him.
“Okay, come on,” his mother’s voice insisted and he looked up, seeing her unraveling gauze in front of him. He sat up slowly and she shoved the white material into his hands, pulling him off the ground.
“Relax, mom,” he mumbled, pressing the gauze to his arm and seeing the blood already seeping through it.
“Get in the car, Alex,” she said, rushing over to it and starting the engine. He slid inside the passenger seat door, resting his forehead against the cool glass. “What were you thinking? How many times have I told you to stay off of the roof?! Do you realize how dangerous it is?!”
“Yes, mother,” he said apathetically.
“You could died, Alex! You could have broken your neck and killed yourself! Or you could have paralyzed yourself! You would have been stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of your life!” she yelled, glancing over at him periodically. “You need to start thinking things over, Alexander! You cannot be so damn impulsive! Now you’re going to need stitches, and Lord knows how much those are going to cost! I don’t have the money for all of this!”
“Then don’t take me to the hospital,” he said, looking over at her. “I already told you I’m fine.”
“Did you hit your head? Oh, you probably have a concussion too! You are not fine, Alex. You’re bleeding all over the place!” she exclaimed and he sighed, rolling his eyes and resting his head back against the window. He could feel a dull ache beginning in his head as he tried to drown out his mother’s nagging voice.
***
“Here, sweetheart,” his mother said sweetly, standing in front of him with a glass of ice water and one of his pain pills. He looked up at her, giving her a half-smile before taking both things from her.
“Thanks,” he muttered, popping the pill into his mouth and washing it down with the water.
“What do you want for dinner, honey?” she asked, and he could see her worried eyes running over the five fresh sutures in his shoulder.
“I’m not really that hungry,” he answered, leaning back against the couch.
“Nonsense. You have to eat with those pills or you’ll get horribly sick,” she insisted, but he remained quiet. “I’ll make you grilled cheese and tomato soup.”
His mother turned before he could respond and he shook his head, taking a sip of his water and leaning back. He grabbed the remote, turning on the television.
His hand moved idly up to his shoulder, running his fingers over the sensitive skin around the stitches. He hissed gently, closing his eyes as he pressed down. Pain shot through his arm, but he didn’t pull move his fingers away. He pressed on, releasing endorphins to put his mind at ease. He moved his hand away, opening his eyes and looking back at the television. He rested his head on the pillow, feeling the tension slowly melt away for the time being.
♠ ♠ ♠
New story :)
I'm slowly molding it into what I want.
Hope you guys like it <3