"Roger."

The sound of Jack's British voice was sharp against the silence of their apartment room. The two both retired in the same room yet occupied separate beds. The black-haired man Jack was trying to summon was of course not asleep. Sleep rarely came to him, after all. Nightmares plagued his mind.. Urges. Temptations.

"Go to bed, Jack."
"Did you take your pills?"

It had been a good decade since the incident. But, not even 10 years was enough to heal them all.. To heal the ones who were still alive. Shit, even if they were living... They felt dead inside. This of course, wasn't true for every boy. Ralph had recovered quite well from the island. Therapy and counseling worked wonders for the blonde. The little'uns couldn't have remembered much, after all most of them were in their late teens now and had better things to worry themselves with besides blurry, past memories. Samneric had some trouble. From then on they were attached at the hip, even moreso than they were on the island. Everywhere they went, they went together. Dates. Doctor's appointments. They even lived together. Jack Merridew even found some recovery. He was still an ugly brute with the personality of a raging bull, but that was just him. He'd learned to fit mostly back into society. However, that only left one more..

Roger.

Roger never found his place. The world seemed empty. Cold.. Unaccepting. It all felt too vast. The island was small. Manageable.. A place where he felt on top. In charge. Even though, he wasn't. He'd been under Jack's rule. He'd been the red-head's executioner. And that is what chnaged him - the , still, he had been Jack's right-hand man. They were almost like partners. If one compared it to a monarchy, Roger would've been second in control.

The thing was, Roger had loved his job. Stoning the little'uns, smashing Piggy with the boulder after "accidentally" leaning on the lever propped beneath it. Before Roger had even been trapped on the island with the others, he held savage thoughts. Savage dreams. Morals kept him bound. Society kept him sane. But all that was taken from him with the plan crash that stranded them there.. And it was never returned.

Sure, they'd been rescued. Sure they're parents had them enrolled in counseling, numerous therapists, home schooling.. Etc.
It may have helped the others.. but not the quiet, black-haired youth, Roger.

Since all that, Roger didn't seem quite fit to live by himself. So, many years later he insisted upon boarding with his former leader, Jack. He hadn't completely released all feelings of loyalty to the other. Even before the island, Jack had taken a leader role over Roger when they were choir boys.

It helped, but only little. Roger could still be found occasionally with a small rodent or cat in the bathroom, skinning the poor creature alive with a knife or equally sharp object. It only angered Jack when he made a mess of it all over the floor. As long as it helped to suppress whatever macabre thoughts that plagued the boy's mind.. The red-head was alright with it.

Roger spared a glance to Jack from his bed, the covers pulled up over his slender frame, but not covering his face. He brought pale fingers up to swipe some black hair from his eyes, gazing at the red-head sitting up in the other bed across from him.

"...No."
"You fuckin' idiot." They both spoke with posh British accents. One thing that hadn't changed. They'd been proper, once.

"Get up and take them before I force them down your bloody throat again, Roger." Jack threatened, his voice tainted with a chilling seriousness. As he'd said, it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to force-feed the bloke pills.

Without a word, the man rose from his bed to stalk into the kitchen, shaky fingers fumbling with pill bottles.. Soon enough, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 different pills were spread out before him. Each prescribed. Ones for depression, insomnia, the thoughts.. Quiet, little killers.

They're evil. Roger insisted mentally. He didn't trust them. Not at all.

In fact, he was about to swipe the small tablets into the garbage and feign taking them when he heard Jack creeping up behind him.
"You even think of slidin' them into the bin, I'll cram the whole bin down your throat."

A quiet panic rose within him, the thinner male shakily taking the pills into his mouth and downing them with a quick swig of water.. To him, it felt like swallowing poison.

"Now get your arse to bed. It's 4 in the fuckin' mornin', Roger."
"I'm goin'.. I'm goin'.." he mumbled, seeming to almost flinch as he swept by the taller of the two to head back to their room. He should've been used to the other's harsh way of speaking by now. After all, his mind accepted them as orders. And orders were to be followed. The more human part of him though always wanted to challenge them, though. Although, he simply couldn't. Jack was bigger. Stronger.. More powerful.

So, following the orders he'd been given, the sadist crawled his way back into his bed, quivering under the covers as Jack walked back in. Roger's eyes flickered to the doorway for a moment to catch Jack's silhouette standing there for a few solid seconds. He shivered as he could feel the brute's eyes on him.. Watching. Evaluating. That 10 seconds felt like t was going to drive him deeper into madness.

Thankfully, the shadow dwindled as Jack let the door shut, submerging the bedroom in total darkness.

"Good." Roger heard him mumble, a warm feeling sweeping through him at the received praise. Even if it was only one word, and a mere grunt.

"Goodnight, Roger."

"...Goodnight, Jack."