Timeline: AU to Green No More.
Rating: T
Summary: Sometimes the best thing to do is move on
AN: Stick with me, this will make sense in time.

Disclaimer: I totally own it!...in another life.

Thanks to Patrick in a Heartbeat (PatrickFury) for putting up with my god awful grammar and betaing my chapters.

Moving On

Prologue

It always drove him insane how the rain hit the windows. Every night it was the same thing, the same thunderstorms and the same emotions. It was a never-ending cycle that, despite the fact it was always repeating, the pain cut deeper each time, always drawing fresh blood that slowly killed him.

Some nights he badly wished for the rain to wash away his thoughts, and make him the new man he so longed to be. Others, he just wanted a lightning bolt to strike him in the heart and end his life. He was so torn between the two sentiments: the desire of waiting it out to find himself normal again, and ending it all to feel the blissful relief.

Every night, he asked himself the same thing. Why him? He never had to question about himself, or about life in general, because he would ask something that was able to chain itself onto millions of other things. It saved him the grief of complimenting on it all.

Why did this have to happen to him? If some higher power was out there, it obviously didn't care that doing this affected more than just one life, and the repercussions were left to hit the others the most. In his opinion, it was the most brutal murder to take one and leave the rest to suffer.

He would ask the same thing, and every night he would never get an answer.

So what was Jason doing, keeping himself awake at 3 AM, letting the rain infuriate him? He could never answer that either. Sure, sleeping away the day sounded nice, but he hated waking up, and for the few short moments of distortion, believe everything was okay, and that he would spend the afternoon at the youth center laughing away his problems like he always did. He hated life crashing down on him all over again.

The nightmares didn't help either. He rarely had them, yet when he did, they were too vicious to handle. A simple solution to the problem: no sleep, no dreams. It was why he had coffee anyways; to stay awake during his bio class the next day.

It was so boring, though; lying in bed to listen to the rain.

He didn't feel sadness towards it. The others looked at him like he was a twisted monster to battle when they began to see this. It wasn't normal to be thrown into this situation and not shed a tear; even those who barely knew him reacted with remorse. Yet Jason stood at the funeral not crying, but instead tightening his fist inside his jacket pockets until he swore he had no feeling in his arms anymore.

He felt no sadness, no sorrow, but instead anger; anger towards everyone, even towards himself. Every day he felt himself slipping away as the rage overtook his mind, and drowned himself in his own emotions. Jason knew at one point, he had control over it, that he could rise above the depths and find a new way of handling this.

But he let himself fall deeper in. A sickening thought would creep in the back of his mind, telling him that he deserved a life of only feeling anger, that he didn't have the right to feel sad over something he caused. The fury got to a standing point, from simply bubbling up inside, to filling itself inside a bottle in an attempt to not unleash everywhere at the wrong time. Keeping him from doing that was the only control he had left.

He felt only hate. It was no way to live.

Jason immediately noticed when it stopped raining. The sound of pitter-patting against the glass left, and his ears started to burn with silence. He sat motionless against the headrest of his bed, his hands laid in his lap and his legs crossed. It was a nightly routine; he would stare into space until his alarm went off.

He always kept his thoughts clear, never daring to touch the fragile subjects that caused him pain. It left opportunities open to keep him busy; when he was cold, he'd realize it straight away, and dunk himself under his blankets. When he was restless, he would get up and walk in circles.

He would never think about it, though. He heard people tell him it was an unhealthy habit, but how was it any unhealthier than ripping himself apart with the guilt? He only had so much time until his bottle burst, and until then, he tried to enjoy every moment of what ignorant bliss he brought upon himself.

It was too silent now, he thought. However, noise wasn't exactly something he could fix; with the time of hour any music would awake his parents. But it was too quiet. He needed to fix it before his thoughts tried to sink in.

Twiddling his thumbs, Jason softly hummed a gentle tune off the top of his head, the music echoing his mind as if it was coming from headphones rested on his ears. His body unconsciously rocked back and forth, starting out barely noticeable and getting to a sway that made him realize what he was doing. He never stopped; it was peaceful.

Keep humming, he thought. Keep the thoughts away.

Chemistry test tomorrow. Probably going to fail.

I'll go to the youth center, practice a bit more.

What am I humming?

Zedd hasn't attacked in a while.

This sounds familiar.

Maybe I'll see a movie this week.

It's raining again.

Wait a second…

Jason's body stopped dead in its tracks—frozen, looking as if someone had shot him dead in the heart. His shoulders fell flat and his hands stopped moving. For a few seconds, his breath hitched slightly, getting louder as time passed.

It was then he did something he never thought he'd do ever since Tommy's death. He threw his body forward, his head resting gently in between his ankles and mattress while heavy sobs accompanied the soft rain outside.

He cried for the first time in weeks when he realized it was the Dragon Dagger's summon that echoed his mind.

To Be Continued