After the Storm

Chapter Two

Warnings: Self-abuse and suicide attempt.

A/N: This chapter is shorter than I planned it to be, and I don't really like how it turned out. But hopefully, you will! REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEW. Remember, review please ;D


Spots of red decorated the usually white floor of the bathroom. They were spread about so beautifully, yet it was the ugliest sight Jack could ever have seen in his life. Tears rushed down his cheeks as he huddled in Will's bathroom, keeping quiet so the older man wouldn't find him in there. He didn't want him to see him like this. Not when he was at the lowest point in his life.

It was too late. The door opened a crack, and then swung unconcealed. The red gleamed in the light coming from the living room, sparkling like jewels adorning the tile. Jack made a small whimpering sound and looked up as Will gasped.

"Jack...what happened?"

"Don't come near me," he warned, sinking deeper onto the floor. "Don't clean it up. I will. I don't want you to catch it either."

Will watched helplessly from the doorway as Jack forlornly wiped up the blood from the glistening level. Tears from the man's eyes mixed with the blood, turning the rag he was using pink. Will kneeled down next to him and gathered Jack into his arms, leaving the blood spilled on the floor.

Shivering uncontrollably, Jack collapsed into Will's arms, his eyes blurry with tears. "I'm sorry Will", he sobbed, clutching onto his shirt sleeve. "I'm so sorry."

Unsure of what to say, Will nuzzled his hair softly. "Don't be ridiculous", he said. "None of this is your fault. You didn't ask for this to happen to you."

"I don't want to leave you."

Will snapped his head down and regarded him seriously. "Never talk to me like that again. You're not going to leave me. You never could leave me. You're always going to be right here with me. No matter what happens, we'll always be together."

He moved his hands from Jack's shoulders to around his waist. Jack playfully slapped his hand away as Will furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Why do you want to touch me? I'm as fat as you used to be," he moaned irritably, causing Will to smile warmly.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, kissing Jack softly on the mouth.

Jack smiled and nodded, pushing his head onto Will's chest. Will kissed the top of his head and held him there, until the young man had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor.


"Will, are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Will snapped irritably, not looking up from the spot on the couch he was huddled on. He was lost in thoughts of him and Jack, and Grace's voice cut through them like a foghorn.

He had done his best to try to pretend nothing had happened. Soon, he even started t believe it himself. Nothing happened, and Jack was still there with them. He just was out somewhere, lost. And he needed to be found.

Will's eyes shone with tears, but there was nothing causing them to fall.

"You know what I'm talking about. Last night, when—"

"Nothing happened," Will sighed, burying his face in his hands. "At least nothing that's going to make anything between us change."

Grace sat down next to him, trying to keep her voice down. "What do you mean, nothing's going to change? This changes everything. For fifteen years we've proven that notion wrong that a man and a women can be friends without sex getting in the way, and look what happened. It changed, Will. Everything is changing."

Sighing, Will turned to her and grabbed her hand. "Sweetie, did it honestly mean anything to you?"

She didn't answer for a moment, just moved her eyes toward the ground. Soon, she shook her head slowly, bringing her gaze back to Will. "No. It didn't."

"I'm sorry, but it was the same with me. We were just getting out our frustrations, I guess. I don't know. I never know anymore. But I do know that this isn't going to change anything. We're still best friends, we're still going to do everything together, and we're going to get through this."

"How do you know that?" Grace asked, brushing back pieces of her hair from her eyes and regarding him seriously. He paused.

"Umm, I don't know how I know. I just know," Will said, confusing himself.

"So, you know you know, but you don't know how you know?"

"I know...you...know...I don't know!" he exclaimed, wrinkling his face in vexation.

"Well, whatever you know, can you promise me something?"

"Sure, what is it?" Will asked quietly, wanting her to leave desperately so he could go to sleep.

"If there's anything I can do to make you feel better, just ask me, okay? I wouldn't want you to hurt someone or yourself. I've seen one too many Lifetime movies and E! True Hollywood Story's to know that".

Will laughed, sliding an arm across her shoulders. "I promise sweetie," he said, but felt something inside of him fall away. And then he got an idea.

"Ok, well, I'm going to go to work. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah, I will," he said, leaning back on the couch. "See you tonight."

After Grace left, he waited a few seconds. He made his way into the kitchen and opened a drawer, exposing him to all of their silverware. He glimpsed at the shining metal of the knives, his eyes tracing every dip and ridge of the blade.

He took the handle of the knife and held it firmly, just admiring it for a moment or two. It took him awhile to realize that he had been standing in the same place for more than a half hour.

Holding the blade to his skin, he looked up to the sky.

"Jack...I want you here," he said forcefully, feeling anger course inside of him. "You're not here, and I want you so bad, and there's nothing I can do."

His voice raised dangerously, and soon he was screaming. "I want you here, don't you see that? I'm miserable without you. I just want you here!"

The knife sliced into Will's skin, and he grimaced as he felt the cut opening up. He looked down, and saw where the wound open, he saw the blood rushing up to feel the crevice he had left. It didn't hurt at all, he hardly felt a thing. But his heart felt ready to explode.

"Jack, you bastard," he whispered, glaring at the cut with more disdain then he ever had before. He gripped on to the door handle, and squeezed his eyes shut. "You fucking bastard." he said more forcefully, pinching his fingers over the cut, as if trying to piece it back together.

"I'm never going to forgive you for this. Look what you made me do. You fucking bastard!" he screamed toward the ceiling, making sure Jack heard his message.

He looked at the injury again. The blood was so red, so bright. Not at all like Jack's. Jack's was so dark, a deep crimson color, and it always looked angry. It would eat the tissues and organs of his lover, with no remorse. It killed him. And it was killing him too.

Why are you blaming Jack for this? He reprimanded himself, bringing himself into the kitchen again and setting the knife in the sink. It's not his fault that you're too weak. He didn't want this to happen to you. He told you that.

Stop being such a baby, Truman. He's gone, and no matter what you do or say to yourself, it isn't going to bring him back. Nothing you do is going to bring him back.

A knife isn't a tool for reincarnation. Now stop being such a baby.

An unsettling feeling colonized inside him, and suddenly he never felt more tired in his life.

"I–Jack–I'm sorry," he said feebly, clutching onto his shirt like a child.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, resting his head on the cool counter of the kitchen. "It's not your fault. It was never your fault. It's my fault. I did this to myself. You never would hurt me on purpose like this."

Will wandered back into his bedroom, wrapping his still-bleeding wrist with the pristine white sheets of his bed. He saw the bright red seeping through the thin fabric, and his tears melted into it with it, painting the sheets damp. His head rested on the pillow tiredly, and he cried into the pillow.

"Please," he begged to the ceiling, hoping that someone or something would hear his desperate plea. "Just have me die in my sleep. Let me be with him one more time. I want to hold him again, and I want him to hold onto me and say it'll all be ok. I just want him to be here."

He choked on the emerging sobs, and whispered silently.

"Why did you take him away from me?"

No one answered. He was alone. And for the first time in his life, he wished that his heart would just stop feeling.


Jack sighed as he glanced at Will's arm. "Why? Why for me, Will? That was the most stupid thing you have ever done. And I am including the time you went up to that guy in the club and asked him to stick his hand down your pants because you said there was a bomb in there ready to explode."

Will smiled, as Jack wiped the blood off of his arm with a rag. "Jackie, sweetie, that was you."

Thinking to himself, Jack gave his usual breathy laugh and nodded. "Oh yeah, I forgot." he smiled and wrapped Will's arm, kissing the area over the wound. "All better."

"I love you," Will said suddenly, his tears welling up again. "I miss you more than anything, Jack. I just want you to be with me all the time."

Jack sighed sadly and shook his head. "Will," he said, gripping onto his hand. "I AM with you. Don't you see that. I've always been with you. Right here." he motioned to Will's heart and smiled.

"That's what Grace said," he trailed off, remembering what he had done with her. It was disgusting. Jack wanted him to find another guy to love, and he did Grace. A woman. He wondered if Jack knew.

"Will?" Jack asked, tilting his head curiously. "What's wrong?"

"I–I slept with Grace," he confessed, not bringing himself to look Jack in the eyes. He never could, they were too bright. He would always look down. He heard his voice, and he felt him there, but he was too bright to see. A light shone in him that Will wasn't ready to witness.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he laughed softly. "William, I know that already. You don't think we get reality T.V. up here too?"

Will chuckled and held on to Jack's hand. "So you can see me from up here?" he asked, uncertain that he really wanted to know the answer.

"Honey," Jack started, holding Will closer to him. "I've seen more than you think. Now you need to stop feeling sorry for me and yourself and take a look around to what you've got down there. You've got my Kare-bear to take care of and you got a hag that loves you. You don't need me. You never did."

"How can you even say that? You were everything to me," Will tried to reason, realizing something. "And that bitch Karen didn't even go to your fucking funeral! You want me to go and comfort her!"

Will felt Jack smiling sadly. "She has her reasons. Just promise me you'll at least talk to her?"

"Alright," he said, letting out a sigh. Then he laughed, looking up at Jack. "You know what? You're the only one who can make me talk to Karen."

Jack let out a laugh.

"I would say it's my devilish charm, but that might get me kicked out of this place."


Sorry for the awful-ness. REVIEW PLEASE.