Oh look, a wild Halia appeared! xD
So sorry this took so long (it actually took me the longest to write out of everything) but I hope you'll all like it and will review. :) I can safely say that from here things are going to be getting a little darker and... well, I can't spoil anything. :)
Last time, we left off with Jack stabbing himself in the arm and bleeding out. Here's the aftermath. Enjoy, read and review. (Please, I wanna know if anyone's still reading my stories) and I will see you next time.
The steady beeping rhythm of a heart monitor was grating - yet oddly reassuring - on Jerry's ears as he sat in a chair across from the hospital bed Jack was laid in, hooked up to the EKG. It was strange to see him like that; peaceful, yet somewhat eerie, in his sleep. But Jerry also decided that it was just downright weird seeing him in a white hospital gown.
"How can you expect me to remember what my son's date of birth is?" Jack's father's drunken slur boomed from outside the door, Jack's grandmother rolling her eyes pityingly from where she was sat. "I can barely remember what I had for dinner last night..." he muttered, trailing off, and Jerry thought it wasn't possible for anyone to be more pathetic as he heard the sloshing of liquid; beer most likely.
"Sir, there's no alcohol allowed in hospitals," a woman reprimanded him, being rewarded with a non-committal sounding grunt.
"Oh dear," Jack's grandmother sighed to herself as she got up from the chair. "Jerry, would you stay with him?" she asked as she reached the threshold of the hallway. "I've got to go and sign that paperwork before he screws it up," she muttered, walking into the corridor before Jerry could even respond, being left alone with the sound of the EKG and a sleeping Jack.
He shuffled closer, his chair scraping across the floor. Jack's eyelids creased and his fingers slowly clenched and unclenched into a fist. He gave an unceremonial groan, rolling his head to the side and forcing his eyes open.
Jerry reached out for his shoulder and shook him lightly, giving him something to focus his wandering eyes on. "Jack?"
"Jerry?" Jack murmured in surprise, blinking to clear his vision. He pushed himself up on his pillows, coughing throatily. "I'm not dead then, I take it?" he added in a quiet voice, clearing his throat loudly to get it back.
"No, you're alive," Jerry said with a smile, leaning back into his chair. The whole thing was weighing on him though; why would Jack just decide to stab himself in the arm with a bottle and bleed out? He honestly didn't strike Jerry as the type to try and take his own life, if anything he'd take someone else's.
"Good," Jack said in relief, managing to confuse Jerry even further. He then looked around the room, spotting the two empty chairs, and then back to Jerry. "It's not just you in here, is it?" he asked, sounding expectant, like the latter really wouldn't surprise him.
"Your Dad and Gran are here," Jerry said, cocking his head towards the door.
Jack gave an indecisive snort at the sound of his father's drunken ramblings and his grandmother's calmer - although from the sounds of things she wouldn't be if Jack's father carried on the way he was - voice.
"Wow, he actually tried pulling his head out of the beer barrel long enough to give a shit about me," Jack said with a sneer. "Clearly that backfired," he added knowingly, rolling his eyes.
Jerry swallowed as silence filled the room, unable to stop his eyes from drifting to the angry, raised scar on Jack's body, the stitching visible from the collar of his hospital gown. He shifted uncomfortably and Jack noticed, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"What was that about?" he asked, gesturing to the scar. He found it hard to believe that a surprisingly small scar - once all the blood had been cleared away - had caused so much blood.
"Just got pissed off at those boys," Jack said with a plaintive shrug, brushing it off like it was no big deal; to him it probably wasn't, which frightened Jerry a little. "With what they said about Jeremy and all..." he trailed off, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face.
That fast turned into a fist as Jack muttered, "And now I guess I'm going to have to tell you what happened to him because there's no way I'll be able to knock you out for asking without ripping my stitches open." Jerry swallowed, knowing Jack would still try.
"Ah, Mr. Brewer, you're awake," the nurse's relieved sounding voice chirped pleasantly as she entered the room, carrying a tray of food with her.
"Saved by the Nurse," Jack chuckled, ignoring the frown Jerry sent his way. He was so close... why would he still try and give up?
"Here you are." The nurse placed the tray of food on Jack's bedside table. "Just something to keep your strength up," she added with a smile.
"Thanks," Jack said flatly, reaching over to the tray and picking up the bowl of strawberries - subconsciously making Jerry flush - relaxing back on the bed with it. He bit into one and Jerry licked his lips.
"Now here comes the hard part, Jack," the nurse said somberly, watching Jack for his reaction.
"What 'hard part?'" Jack asked incredulously, finishing his mouthful of strawberry. "Isn't this just where you tell me what I 'narrowly missed', give me a warning and send me home and send me home with some painkillers?" he wondered with a shrug, turning his attention back to the strawberries.
The nurse raised her eyebrows, looking slightly taken aback. "Well, you're no stranger to casualty programs, are you?" she said with a nervous chuckle.
"I'm no stranger to hospitals, Doc," Jack shot back, his voice calm and emotionless. It made Jerry wonder how - and for what reasons - many times Jack had actually been to a hospital. Although something told Jerry this was the first time it was something to do with himself.
A muscle in the nurse's jaw twitched. "Fine," she snapped, taking out her clipboard. "Uh, the x-rays showed that you came within a few centimeters of never being able to use that arm again, and you also lost a lot of blood," she explained with a reprimanding look, Jack looking horrifyingly impassive. "Thankfully, it wasn't enough that we needed to give you a transfusion, and the stitches should grow out within a few months," she finished.
"Fuck, that's gonna leave a scar," Jack asked in a growl, tugging the neckline of his hospital gown to see it. "Another one," he added with a roll of his eyes.
Jack cleared his throat and looked at the nurse expectantly, the woman clearly surprised Jack wasn't acting in a similar way to most of the failed suicide attempts she'd no doubt seen in her career. "Now what exactly was the 'hard part', Doc?" he asked, a little too flippant for Jerry's tastes, making quotation marks with his fingers.
"Mr. Brewer, our psychiatrist is classing this as a suicide attempt," she informed him gravely.
"If I wanted to kill myself, I would've done it," Jack pointed out bluntly. "But I didn't," he added knowingly, holding up a finger.
"He's going to come by later to talk about the possibility of some therapy sessions or medication," she went on, ignoring Jack's outburst.
"He'll get just as far as the others," Jack warned her, an eerie glint in his eyes. "Before he starts running from the room." He grinned wickedly, quirking his eyebrows as he leaned forwards.
The nurse swallowed hard, trying to look unfazed. She turned on her heel and left the room, not once glancing back.
Jerry angled his chair towards Jack. "So what we're you gonna tell me?" he asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.
"Persistent little shit," Jack grumbled, putting the bowl of strawberries back on the tray.
"Jack, I'm serious," Jerry said pleadingly, trying to will Jack into seeing that he only wanted to help him and put his own mind at rest.
Jack scowled, muttering under his breath. "Alright, fine," he gave over, Jerry feeling a small wave of triumph. "You know my brother's dead; worst kept secret at school next to Donna's hair extensions," he snorted, attempting some levity. "But why he's dead is because of Mr. Phillip," he admitted and Jerry felt a shiver down his back.
"What's he got to do with any of this?" Jerry asked, his voice wavering. He wondered if it had anything to do with those boys he had seen Mr. Phillip paying to go after Jack. Either way, he had always had a feeling about him, and no doubt now that Mr. Phillip had been the teacher Jack had been yelling at when he had first met him.
"The bastard was having an affair with my brother," Jack said with a sneer; Jerry's eyes widened and his jaw went slack. "When his wife found out, he called it off and was desperate to get her back. But that wasn't his only problem," he continued, like he was a revered storyteller, letting the suspense build. "Jeremy was threatening to go to the police about what happened and tell them everything," he finished, the corner of his lips curling menacingly at the word 'police'.
"Tell them what?" Jerry asked, leaning forwards intently in his chair.
"That he was getting bullied in his classes and he wasn't doing anything about it," Jack said with a shrug, looking like the story was already starting to wear him down. "Not that the Police did either; he went to them a bunch of times before shit hit the fan. Nothing was done," he added, his eyes hardening with anger; the EKG started to beep faster.
"So what happened to him?" Jerry pressed, urging Jack to keep going.
Jack took a breath, his next words coming out as a growl, "Mr. Phillip paid some boys to kill him," he revealed, Jerry certain that they were the same one's he'd seen in Mr. Phillip's classroom, and before that when they had gone after Jack in a drunken stupor. "Only thing they didn't count on, was me being there with him the night they went to do it," he said, the EKG beeping faster.
"And they were these boys I saw coming out of Mr. Phillip's classroom?" Jerry asked for confirmation.
"Yeah," Jack nodded, his expression less than favorable when they were mentioned. "The one I strangled was the one who..."
The silence that followed was unnerving, the EKG continuing to relentlessly track Jack's heartbeat, getting faster as if he was running a marathon. Or, Jerry thought with a swallow, relieving the night all over again.
"The one who set him on fire," Jack got out finally after what seemed like an eternity, the EKG giving a lurch, as did Jerry's own heart. It was one thing to see something like that on the news, but to witness it and the victim be your own brother? No wonder Jack was so angry...
Jerry was surprised he could actually string syllables together at this point; "What?"
"They hadn't meant to; they were just trying to scare us, but they dropped the lighter and then Jeremy started burning," Jack explained, a look of pure, unadulterated hatred morphing his face into an evil scowl. "Knocked me down with a baseball bat and then took off," he said, his hand reaching up and his fingers ghosting over the side of his head in remembrance.
"All I could do was watch him die," "Then when I could put the flames out, he was deader than dead," he sighed, the callousness in Jack's tone sending a chill down Jerry's spine. "Called an ambulance, not that it did any good, obviously," he said with a soft chuckle, more to himself than Jerry.
He shifted in the bed, making himself more comfortable. "My Aunt and I went to the police after Jeremy's funeral - Mum and Dad were too drunk to give a fuck - but they couldn't do anything because they didn't have any 'circumstantial' evidence," he explained, again making quotations marks with his fingers, a sneer twisting his mouth into an ugly line. "All they had was a bloody, bruised kid with his charred brother in his arms..." he trailed off, silence sweeping over the room.
Jerry's heart felt like it was in his mouth. He couldn't shake the images he had in his mind of Jack, bleeding from his head, alone in that alleyway with his brother's corpse, swearing vengeance on those responsible from that day forth. He laid a hand reassuringly on Jack's shoulder, being rewarded with hollow eyes.
"So now you know," Jack said with a small smile, a perplexed look briefly flashing across his face. "Not exactly like the rumors, is it?" he said knowingly, but if anything, the actual encounter sounded much more horrifying than whatever people could make up.
"You could stop them," Jerry pointed out softly, but when he thought about it, who would want to share that with anyone? As sick and morbid as it sounded, Jerry was just glad Jack wasn't behind his brother's death.
"Yeah, and I could also go jump off a cliff," Jack snapped sarcastically, instantly reverting back to his more bitter self, but Jerry didn't remove his hand, nor did Jack try to.
"What happened that night is my business, no-one else's," he said resolutely, Jerry being able to see the beginning of the beast brewing once again behind his eyes. "I don't owe them shit," he said in a soft voice, laying back on the bed. His eyes reverted back to blank and emotionless as he just stared ahead at nothing in particular.
"It's a war in your bedroom baby, I'd cut off my tongue for just a taste of... a piece of your flesh my darling-"
Jack perked up at the music that suddenly blasted through the room. "That's my phone,"
"Yeah, the Nurse gave it to me," Jerry said, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to Jack with a smile.
He made to answer it, but then looked at him suspiciously. "You didn't look at it, did you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No, there's a passcode," Jerry said with a shrug, suddenly wondering why Jack was getting protective over his phone, or why he would think Jerry would look in the first place.
Jack brushed it off and swiped a thumb over the screen, silencing his ringtone, and held the phone to his ear. "What?" he drawled into it unceremoniously.
"Gary?" he said in surprise, sitting up in the bed, his face lighting up a little. Then it turned to confusion. "How did you even-?" He didn't get to finish his sentence as Gary started chiding him from the other line.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jack said reassuringly, rolling his eyes in full view of Jerry, who snickered. "Just a few stitches," he added lightly, a brief scowl appearing at what Gary then said, before it turned into a smile.
A bemused expression suddenly crossed Jack's face. "Oh, when did you turn into my wife?" he chuckled into the phone, no doubt being rewarded with a sarcastic remark from Gary.
"Yeah, I'm coming back tomorrow, but they're keeping me overnight for observation," he explained, "It's not even that bad; just another scar," he said with a shrug.
Jack gave an exaggerated sigh, grinning to Jerry as Gary kept on speaking. "Yes, okay," he said with a smile that Gary couldn't see. "Bye." Jack hung up the phone, it looking like it was the best decision that he had ever made.
"I love the guy, but I swear he's like that squirrel from Over the Hedge on crack," Jack said with a chuckle, blowing out a breath of relief that the conversation was over.
"Course he is," Jerry said in agreement, chuckling at the comparison and mental image he suddenly had of Gary as a squirrel. "He gives all his meds to you," he scolded lightly.
"Shh!" Jack hissed, motioning for him to be quiet, prompting Jerry to look around for someone that would've heard. "These people have bat ears..." he said in a playful whisper, eyes darting around the room.
Jerry sighed, shifting closer to Jack on the bed.
"What?" Jack asked, watching him with a calm expression
"I don't know..." Jerry shrugged, letting out a sigh. Who would have thought that this would be his life when he first moved here?
Jack wrapped a comforting arm around him and sat up, leaning in closer to him. The door suddenly clicked opened and Jack's hot breath fanned Jerry's lips as he gave a groan of annoyance.
"Whatever you think I did, you can't prove it," he said to whoever entered the room, Jerry turning around to see two police officers stood opposite the bed. "Unless my fingerprints are on record - which they are - in which case, gimme a minute to think of something," he said, holding up a finger and looking like he was racking his brain for something, making Jerry laugh.
"We're not here to arrest you, Mr. Brewer," the male officer said reassuringly. "We're Officers Gregory and McCready," he explained, both him and his partner showing them their police credentials. Jack grunted in acknowledgement.
"We need you to tell us more about your brother and Mr. Darren Phillips," Officer McCready stated, Jack breaking his act immediately at the woman's sentence.
"Please tell me you goons didn't bug the fuckin' room?" he asked, warily reaching out and turning up the lunch tray to search for bugs. Jerry chuckled at the look on his face, Jack quirking his eyebrows with a small grin.
"Watch your language," Officer Gregory warned in a clipped tone, Jack blanking him completely.
He then gave a scoff of disbelief, looking at the two Officer's in disdain. "Figures..." he muttered under his breath to himself.
"What does?" Jerry asked lightly.
"It's the only time they can get me in a room to talk about Jeremy without me being able to leave," he explained, raising an eyebrow knowingly at the Officers', his expression indicating he was going to be everything but helpful to them. "It took me putting a bottle through my shoulder to tell you," he pointed out, Jerry making a face of agreement.
"Jack, you know we're only trying to help," Officer McCready said in a tired sounding voice.
"Trying and actually helping are two different things, dude," Jack shot back as a matter-of-factly, Officer McCready shrinking back slightly. "Where were you when Jeremy reported the death threats, months before he died, huh?" He folded his arms, glaring at them both and waited for an answer, but both Jerry and Jack knew they wouldn't give him one.
Instead Officer Gregory picked up where his partner had backed off; "Jack, we understand how hard this is-"
Jack lurched up so suddenly Jerry thought he was going to leap over to the Officer's there and then. "No, you really don't," - his eyes narrowed hatefully - "and don't even insult me by trying to say that do you because you have no idea what I'll do to you," he snarled in a low voice, both Officer's exchanging a glance. "Have you ever had a brother die in front of you?" he asked emphatically.
"Didn't think so," he said after the brief silence the Officer's uncomfortable shuffling left. "What is it with you cops always trying to empathize with people? I know how this must feel..." he mocked, eyeing them with such venom Jerry honestly thought he was going to start spitting it any second. "Bullshit."
"We know you're angry, Jack-"
"Angry doesn't even begin to cover it, lady," Jack seethed, pointing a finger towards her. After a sudden start, he turned his attention to the EKG - beeping much faster - and tore the wires from his arm, ignoring the beads of blood that were appearing on his arm. He took a breath, the infernal sound suddenly silenced.
"We swear we will get him, Jack," Officer McCready promised, staring at Jack in a desperate attempt to get him to believe her, "You just need to co-operate with us," she told him simply, Jack's jaw switching menacingly as they both turned around to leave.
"No, you people just need to do your fucking jobs properly!" he called after them, the door getting shut on his yells.
Jerry jumped in his chair as Jack swore violently, spitting on the floor. "Fuckers..." he ground out through clenched teeth. "I don't believe them one bit," he decided, giving the spots where they had been standing less than favorable glares.
"You don't?" Jerry wondered.
"Nope," Jack said flatly, popping the 'P'. "Like I said, Jeremy reported death threats and harassment before the affair or the attack on us and they didn't give a shit," he reminded him pointedly, "They probably only do now 'cause they found out he was underage when he fucked Mr. Phillips," he said in disgust, his face contorting in a grimace at the mention of the man.
"Which is why I'm gonna handle it myself," Jack said suddenly, Jerry looking at him like he was insane. Jack was still acting like he'd just commented on someone's new haircut, not what he had just implied.
"Why don't I like the sound of that?" Jerry said to himself out loud, shaking his head incredulously.
Jack chuckled and reached up to grab his face, pulling him down to his eye-level. "Oh, Jer-bear..." he trailed off with a smile, the latter immediately falling from his face. "You're not supposed to," he told him, smirking devilishly at him before pulling him down for a brief kiss.
As Jerry had expected, the school was alight with the buzz of Jack's 'attempt on his life', as some of the boys in the lower years were calling it. Rumors of all different kinds had been flying around - things ranging from Jack being off his meds to him getting in a bar-fight - and Jerry hadn't seen Jack all day, or Gary for that matter. He suspected Jack was either at home resting, despite how keen he had been to disobey all the doctor's rules, or skipping because he wanted to avoid Mr. Phillips.
Mr. Phillips, Jerry thought to himself with a shudder. He was never going to be able to look at him in the same way again; not now, not with the knowledge he now held.
And when said teacher had given him a particularly unsettling glance in Biology earlier today, he couldn't help but wonder if he had seen him outside his classroom that day when he paid those boys to go after Jack, or if he knew that Jerry knew about what he had done.
Dimly, Jerry brought himself back into the conversation he stupidly started with Milton that he and Kim were still in deep thought about. Jerry just wanted to slam his fingers into a locker.
"...but you just don't want the extra drying that comes from shampoo," Milton finished with a smile, Kim nodding a little in understanding.
Before she could open her mouth in another question that would no doubt set him off on another tangent, Jerry snapped, "Milton, we got it, already!"
"How do you know so much about hair-care anyway?" Kim asked suspiciously, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I'm the girl," she said, holding up a lock of her hair for emphasis.
"I have a sister; enough said," Milton explained flatly, Kim sniggering beside him.
Jerry's ears pricked up at the unmistakable fwhip! of a lighter and turned to see Jack down the hallway, angling himself away from prying eyes and lighting a cigarette between his teeth.
"Hey, there's Jack," Jerry announced, Kim and Milton turning to look at him. "I gotta go," he said quickly, making to hurry off, but Kim caught hold of his arm.
"Is it true that he tried to... y'know?" She couldn't bring herself to say the words that were so wrong in so many ways.
"I don't think he would've stabbed himself in the arm if he did," Jerry said with a shrug, Kim nodding and letting go of his wrist. She and Milton walked off together and Jerry walked up to Jack.
He acknowledged him with raised eyebrows, blowing out some smoke and then taking another drag. Jerry could see his knuckles were badly scraped and bleeding; his hands shaking with every puff he took.
"I didn't think you were coming back today," Jerry said in surprise, breaking the awkward silence between them. Jack finally spared him a glance, his eyes wild. "Mr. Phillips 'n all," he added with a sympathetic smile.
Jack's fist clenched beside him. "Nah, I'm not giving that fuck-sack the satisfaction," he growled, his voice clipped as he looked around for someone who would be dumb enough to snitch on him, taking another drag from the cigarette. "I swear, he gives me one more evil look and I'm gonna rip his dick off and shove it up his-"
"Jack," a familiar voice said from behind him. Jerry couldn't help the scowl that formed on his face as Mr. Phillips stood behind Jack, a smug air about him. "That's not a cigarette, I hope?" he asked lightly.
"Speak of the Devil..." Jack muttered bitterly, bending down and snubbing the cigarette out with his boot before turning to Mr. Phillips, grimacing at the sight of him. "And nope, it's one of those E-cigarette things; trying to quit," he lied as a quick response.
"I'm surprised to see you-"
"Alive?" Jack finished for him, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow knowingly. Although there was a hidden danger brewing behind his eyes; his hands twitching as if he was going to strike at any moment.
"Looking so well," Mr. Phillips corrected him emphatically, neither Jerry nor Jack believing a single word. "I heard about your... attempt on your life, shall we say?" he went on, a smarmy tone to his voice, as if he was looking down - not quite so literally - on Jack.
"I'm sure you did," Jack responded back, that twisted grimace making an appearance on his face again; Jerry just watched on, silent. "Is there a point to this or are you just here to ruin my morning more than a Monday already does?" he added coolly.
Mr. Phillips' eyes darkened suddenly and he leaned in towards Jack, trying to use his height to assert his dominance, but Jack clearly wasn't fazed. "If a word of anything is breathed to the police, I'll-"
The last half of his sentence was abruptly cut off as Jack had grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him back forcefully into a locker, startling several students that were walking past. The teacher's facade had broken; he was not the one in control here, Jack was and he held all the cards.
His eyes narrowed dangerously and he pulled Mr. Phillips towards him, almost so that they were nose-to-nose. "Let's get one thing straight," he ground out in an evil-sounding hiss. "I'm not Jeremy, those 'threats' of yours don't mean shit to me, and neither does your gang of brain-dead fuck-knuckles," he went on distastefully, shaking Mr. Phillips against the locker and baring his teeth. "And if you ever send them after me again, I'm gonna-"
"Go to the police?" Mr. Phillips cut him off with a taunting smirk, Jerry surprised he could even get words out of his mouth.
A deranged smile spread across Jack's face, twisting his lips into a thin, mocking line and succeeding in making him look positively terrifying. "No," he said firmly, quirking his eyebrows.
Mr. Phillips made a noise of indignation and Jack shoved him away, glaring at him as he made his way down the corridor, re-adjusting his suit. A few spectators were whispering and nudging each other; Jack jerked towards them and they scattered off in opposite directions. He huffed out a breath, smashing his already mutilated fist against the locker, before resting against it.
"Prick..." Jerry muttered unceremoniously once he was sure Mr. Phillip had gone.
"You said it," Jack shot back in agreement, Jerry unintentionally catching a glimpse of his shirt; his bloodstained shirt.
"Uh, Jack?" He pointed towards the spreading bloodstain by his shoulder and Jack swore loudly, clapping a hand over the wet patch.
"Motherfucker..." he muttered under his breath, pulling a face as the blood was no doubt trickling down his chest.
"Jack!" Gary's voice suddenly rang out, the boy leaping and bounding over, nearly skidding into a locker.
"Alright, Gary?" Jack offered as a response, gritting his teeth as he was trying to contend with his stitches.
"Are you okay?" Gary asked in concern, Jerry raising his eyebrows in surprise. Gary really didn't strike him as the type of be worried about anyone.
"Yep," Jack said, warily taking his hand away from his stitches once he was sure he'd staunched the blood flow. "Still the same after the first ten times - and yes, I was counting - times you asked me," he finished, unable to keep the grin off his face.
"Oh, come here, you psycho!" Gary wrapped his arms around Jack in a surprise-hug, Jack grunting in pain as he was caught off-guard, but relaxed in his friend's arms, leaning on him for support.
When they pulled away, Jack gave Gary a once-over. "Wow, I have to nearly die to get a hug from you?" he said sarcastically.
"I have to be going out of my mind to get one from you?" Gary shot back, rolling his eyes.
Jack huffed out a laugh and turned to his locker. He opened it, something dislodging from the already crammed shelf and fluttering to the ground.
"What's that?" Jerry asked as Jack bent down to pick it up. He gave it a once over and scoffed in disbelief.
"It's from my biggest fan," Jack deadpanned sarcastically, ignoring unfolding the note to toss his school bag inside. He shut the locker and rested on it, both Gary and Jerry craning around him to see what was in his hands, but he pushed them aside.
"How'd you know?" Jerry asked, not needing to be a genius to figure out who he was talking about.
"There's a massive 'P' right at the bottom," Jack said, pointing to the scrawled P on one side of the note, eyes suddenly narrowing as Gary pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to hold in his laughter. "Oh grow up," he added in disdain, but their eyes met and soon Jack was laughing openly alongside him.
Gary wiped his eyes once the laughter had died down and resumed his usual 'hard-man' stance, folding his arms and narrowing his eyes at the paper Jack was holding.
"What does that fucker want now?" he demanded heatedly, growling some expletives under his breath that succeeded in burning Jerry's ears.
Jerry shot Gary an incredulous look. "Wait, you know about-?" He looked at Jack with a meaningful expression, Gary nodding.
"I might've told him," Jack muttered off-handedly with a shrug, Jerry raising an eyebrow at him.
"Kinda hard to keep something like that from your best friend, dude," Gary said knowingly, patting Jack on the shoulder. "What's the note say?" he asked, squirming with impatience.
Jack opened it and a dry chuckle came from his mouth. "Try and guess," he said to the two of them. "Three words," he added as a prompt, Gary immediately jumping in before Jerry could even tell his brain to think of an answer.
"Go screw yourself? Go fuck yourself?" Gary suggested, Jack glancing sideways at Jerry who was having trouble trying not to laugh. "Killer alien dick!" he added in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air and getting several strange looks which he waved off.
Jack pulled a face. "No, no- and I really need to stop stealing your meds," he observed quickly, Jerry nodding in agreement.
He held up the paper, all the emotion gone from his face, and Jerry saw the note as if the letters were skyscrapers emblazoned with flashing lights. He felt uneasy just knowing who it was from.
You'll get yours.