Chapter Five - The Abnormal Life
It was Sunday when Pitch finally called Jack. He simply stared at the screen, not recognizing the number.
Jack was terrified
He kept replaying the events of that first day he'd met Pitch, only a few nights before, and what'd happened to him. Not only was he beaten when he entered the door, the first friend he'd ever tried to reach out to (even though it was the friend who put out his hand first and Jack had ulterior motives) had already been scared off.
Jamie had roughly pushed Jack up against the side of his shed. Jack was so surprised he didn't move and went stiff. If Jamie hadn't had him pinned with his hips he would've fallen to the ground. After minutes of Jamie trying to coax him into kissing back, Jack finally did, forgetting everything else around him except the feel of Jamie's lips.
They were soft and Jack was sure his would be rubbed raw by morning if the way they were kissing continued. He hooked his arms up under Jamie's and held onto his shoulder blades. Jamie happily sighed into Jack's mouth and wrapped his arms around Jack instead of having his hands pressed up against the shed. He kept his hips where they were.
Jack relished in the flavor of Jamie. He tasted like the personification of light and Jack couldn't get enough of it. He slid his tongue into Jamie's mouth and licked the roof of it slowly, as if counting the ridges he found there. Jamie moaned and pushed his own into Jack's. They twisted them together and savored the feel of the writhing, heated contact.
Jamie pulled back a bit, uncoiling their tongues, biting the tip gently as he exited, and headed to nip at Jack's bottom lip. Jack felt heated in every place that touched Jamie, and he squeaked when he felt him move down to lick under his jaw and down his collarbone to where his hoodie started. The blush that was already present on his face from the cold of the outdoors and the heat of the moment was masque over with another layer of red from his embarrassment at his own noises. No one before Jamie had ever made him squeak before, and Jack couldn't tell if he liked that or not. Oh the hell with it was his last thought before he thrust one of his knees between Jamie's and started rutting off against the thigh that was there.
Jack felt a hesitation from Jamie at his movements and thought to stop before Jamie looked up at him with practically starving eyes and copied what he was doing to his own leg. They descended into a rhythm of loud gasps, continuous panting, and the occasional moan of absolute indulgence.
Eventually Jamie took back the lead when he realized they were both too close to ending the glorious thing they'd started. He froze his hips in place and almost burst out laughing at Jack's utterly annoyed groan of, "What the fu-…"
He could feel how hard Jack was through his own pants and moved one of his hands from Jack's back down to unzip them.
Jack moaned when he realized what the other was doing and undid his own buttoned ones. Jack put his hands back onto Jamie's shoulders and waited for the younger to continue with his plan.
Jamie moved both of their erections out of the comfort of their warm boxers and into the cold air. Jack inhaled sharply at the loss and attempted to move for the friction that had warmed him in the first place, but Jamie held him harder against the shed and carried on. He placed them against each other before he went back to his earlier motions and Jack did the same, falling into their previous pattern of noises.
Jamie continued to clutch onto Jack with one hand while Jack moved one of his up to Jamie's hair, fisting into it on the upstroke up their hips.
It wasn't long before they were both shivering messes and close to coming.
"Ja-Jamie… I'm…"
Jamie heard his plea and used his free hand to grab both of their members and stroke them together while they continued thrusting.
"Ahh… Ah!" Jack whined at the highest pitch he thinks he's ever accomplished and felt his vision bleed white as he gripped his holds on Jamie and came on his T-Shirt.
Jamie finished moments later, matching the now present design that was on his shirt to Jack's hoodie, and kept rubbing and rocking through their orgasm.
They leaned on each other, panting heavily and violently until Jack snapped to his senses and realized what really had just happened. He looked up at Jamie, almost a head taller than him even though he was younger, and saw his eyes closed in bliss. Jack didn't know what to do next.
But it was settled for him.
A raging cry was the only warning either of them got before they were both sprawled out on the grass. Jamie quickly tucked himself back into his jeans and stood up while Jack mirrored his movements slightly slower, still not understanding what was happening. He should've figured it out sooner.
John was standing there, his arms out to his sides, his hands balled into white and red fists. Jack had no idea how either of them didn't notice the backyard's sensor light turn on that was around the corner, but it had, and it illuminated John's seething face perfectly.
It was the second time in Jack's life he looked at someone he loved and mouthed the word, "Run."
Jack gasped at the memory. He hadn't dared to leave his house since that night, and he felt bad for not being able to show Pitch around to his first classes on Friday, but there was no way he could. John would find him if he climbed out the window, and if he unlocked his door even for a moment he was sure his father would hear and come clambering up the steps for another round of beatings.
In the yard that night John knew if he wanted to beat his son as badly as he needed he would have to do it to Jack's body and not his face. After all, nobody wanted the cops involved. It wasn't their business how he punished his kid, or so he thought.
Jack could barely move after, and was locked out of the house. He slept on the grass that night and woke after John had already left for work. He hoisted himself up painfully atop the shed and crawled in through his window, locking it behind him and then locking his door as well before he slumped onto his bed.
When he'd look at himself later in a mirror he'd notice how bad he really looked, but for now he could only guess at the welted and bloody bruises that littered his torso and were so many that it actually looked like one big one.
Thankfully Jamie had made it off the hook, running with concern in his eyes but knowing if he went back there he'd witness Jack getting reprimanded by his father and that would be horribly awkward, especially since of what it was he was being punished for. He hadn't seen the murderous look that had been given to him due to the glare of the back-light, and didn't see that same glare passed over to Jack, or else he would've stayed. He probably could've helped. But he didn't. He couldn't have known what would happen. Not even the small pained noises Jack had made at the lip-biting, which he now realized must've been swollen, or the equally pained noises Jack had made when Jamie had first attempted to grab him, alerted him to what was really going on in that house.
Needless to say, Jack missed the call.
Jack sat on his bed, holding his knees to his chest and leaning his forehead on them. He was starving, not that that was new to him. He heard his family enjoying dinner downstairs in the dining room the night before and he couldn't believe no one had come to get him, but oh wait, yes he could.
John had probably not let Megan go see what her brother was doing, and like Katherine could be bothered enough to show emotion to her son.
After Jack's ninth birthday she'd bleached and dyed his hair white, as if proving to herself that he wasn't part of their family anymore; that he was dead to them. Maybe that's why she chose white, not because he loved the snow or winter, but because it made him look the part of a ghost.
Jack had never chosen to believe the truth and decided for himself that the reason his mother had dyed his hair way back when was really because he loved those things and it was a nice thing for him.
He'd been bleaching his hair ever since, and he ignored the look of horror he got from Katherine whenever a brunette streak would show up in his hair. It was one of the few times she paid attention to him, and while a tiny part of Jack wanted that acknowledgement to last longer, he still went along with the dyeing. It wasn't worth it.
She'd missed her chance to be a mother.
Jack opened his eyes and fell backwards onto his soft blue blanket. He hated this place. He truly did. There were few reasons he stayed. One was because he was afraid of John, another because of Megan, and also that his parents were paying his tuition, or Katherine was, to keep Jack out of the house as much as possible. He didn't see why she wouldn't just kick him to the curb, but then his heart ached when he realized it was because she needed him to be the one that John focused on. Not her or Megan.
And Jack accepted that role without a second thought, still not realizing he shouldn't have that much responsibility pushed on him; that it was wrong; that he needed to get out.
That he needed to get his family out.
He continued to stare at the off-white ceiling until the afternoon rolled around and he finally ventured out of his room and down to the kitchen.
John would be at work around this time. He had to be.
Jack tiptoed the entire way there and his breath caught in his throat when he made it.
Katherine was cooking, or seemed to be.
"What… What are you doing?" He said, taken aback, before his mother turned around with a face that mirrored his. They hadn't spoken in years.
Jack saw her hand and was almost sick on the spot.
She'd laid it on the stove with it on.
Jack ran over to her and yanked it off.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He shouted at her general direction while he turned the stove off and wetted a paper towel.
He grabbed her wrist again and put it under the now-running cold water.
This seemed to knock her out of her stupor and she shrieked in pain.
"What did you do to me?" She screamed, clutching her hands to her chest.
Jack just stared at her, not moving. Her brown eyes were filled with betrayal, and Jack hated her for looking like his sister so much, and having the same brown colored hair he used to have.
He gripped her wrist again, ignoring her struggling and crying, and he wrapped the wet paper towel around it. Jack may not have been the biggest in his class, but he certainly wasn't the weakest. He picked up his mother in a princess carry, not paying attention to the pain it caused him, and took her up the stairs to the bathroom and set her down to sit on the edge of the tub. He reached under the cabinet-ed sink, pulling out the first aid kit he had used so many times on himself. The anti-bacterial cream was right on top and he quickly spread it over her hand before she could complain, kneeling in front of her. The gauze went next, and then the wrappings that would keep it in place.
Jack huffed when he stood up from his position and moved to leave the room.
He felt arms hug him from behind, and his mother rested her head on his back.
"Jack…" She whispered uncharacteristically. It sounded like she actually cared.
Jack pulled away, avoiding her bandaged hand, and turned around to look at her. She had tears dripping down her cheeks and love in her eyes. He hadn't seen that since she'd baked him a cake and they'd waited with Megan for his father to come home.
"Where have you been?" Her face was in an expression of utter longing and remembrance and she lifted a hand to reach out to Jack.
Jack bit his tongue as he felt his own tears start to rise to the surface.
Before she managed to grab the sleeve of his hoodie Jack wrenched himself back, causing her to flinch.
"What the hell do you mean where have I been? I've always been here! You have no right to care about me now! It's too fucking late for you! You're not my mother," he trailed off for a moment, sucking in a breath before his suppressed tears started falling, and ended his fit of justified rage. "I never had a mother. You're like a fixture in this house, only moving when John," he spat the name, "needs you for something. Don't try to love me. I didn't deserve to have you as a mother." Jack ran back to his room and locked the door.
He tried to forget the different emotions that had run through her eyes: first the love and care, then the anguish and hurt, then the broken and cracked unnamed ones.
He didn't hear anything past a thump coming from the bathroom down the hall afterwards. She must've fallen to her knees because when Jack heard John find her hours later, there were angry stomps that sounded like he was trying to carry her into their room. Like he could be troubled to help his wife.
Jack fell asleep with a still empty stomach.
When Jack woke back up, the sun was barely starting to set.
He sighed heavily, sitting up and throwing his legs off of the side of the bed. Somehow he still had his Converse on, and now that he thought of it, his hoodie from that night with Jamie… Oh shit. The consequences of that night sunk into Jack finally.
It wasn't that Jack didn't like Jamie, he'd just always been a friend, and then there was that transfer student. Jamie was definitely going to get the wrong idea on that one. Jack had no idea how he was going to handle classes the next day with both of them.
Should he continue with Jamie? Keep it going? Did he even have time for another person in his life right now?
As much as Jack desperately craved someone to hold him and be there for him, he didn't think he would be able to make that someone Jamie. Jamie just didn't make him feel the way he thought someone like that should make you feel. He loved Jamie, sure, but as a brother.
Right now he had to deal with his confused and muddled emotions that involved his mother, and then he promised the Dean he'd take care of the new student, and then he also had to find time to play with Megan.
Wait… Where is Megan?
Now that he thought of it, he hadn't seen her when he went downstairs earlier and found his mother. Thank God she didn't see that.
Jack stood up and unlatched his door, slowly creeping his head out and looking back and forth between his parents' bedroom and the stairs opposite it. Once he saw that the coast seemed to be clear he headed to his sister's room across the hall from his.
Megan was asleep in bed, holding close her stuffed snow-monster. It was her favorite toy. Jack hoped she'd had it earlier and had slept through the commotion him and his mother made.
His hope quickly vanished.
He could see in the dim light how puffy her eyes were and the spots on her stuffed animal that seemed to be darker from wetness. Jack felt like a horrible brother and wandered into her room completely, shutting the door lightly behind him. He went over to her and brushed the brown hair out of her eyes. She opened them at the soft touch.
"Jack…?" Fresh tears welled in her eyes and she grabbed him into a hug.
Jack sat on the edge of her bed and hugged her close, burying his face into her hair. After a long while she pulled away, remaining in his lap.
"I heard," she sniffled, "you and mommy fighting-" she hiccupped and rubbed the tears out of one of her eyes sleepily. She always seemed younger than she really was.
"Shh shh shh," Jack cooed, hugging her to him again. "I'm sorry you had to hear that." He tried to change the subject. "Your birthday's coming up soon. What do you want your big brother to get you?"
"You don't have to treat me like a little kid," she huffed at him, breaking the hug once again. "I'm turning twelve!"
"Right, right. I'm so sorry, your elegance," Jack smiled. "What very grown-up present do you desire?"
She placed her head in her hand, leaning forward on her elbow she balanced on her knee.
"Well, he's been lonely lately. Like when I go to school." She pointed at her snow-monster, sitting back up.
"Ah, so a new toy?" She frowned at him. "I mean, a new friend?"
She grinned like how all little girls should grin: like a princess.
"Exactly! A new friend! That'd be perfect for him!"
"Well, I guess we'll see what Santa has in store for you," Jack winked.
Unlike most kids her age, Megan not only still believed in Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and the Sandman, but she also believed that Santa delivered every kind of presents, not just Christmassy ones.
"Aww, Jack! But what if he doesn't get it for me? Can't you?"
"I'm sorry Megan. Magical beings have rules, and we both know rules are rules. I can't interfere in his present business." He waved his hand, dismissing the idea.
She snorted, "I'm pretty sure you've never cared about getting into other people's business."
Now it was Jack's turn to grin like a princess.
"I have no idea what you mean by that."
"Oh shut up," she play hit him.
"Really? You thought you were gonna get away with that?" He squinted mischievously.
Her eyes widened in mock fear and excitement as Jack hoisted her up in the air and swung her around.
"Jack! Put me down!" She squealed happily.
Jack sat her on his shoulders and handed Megan her snow-monster.
"Let's go get a treat," he said flinging her door back open and running quietly down the stairs. Jack didn't want the day to come when she got too tall for piggy-back rides. Right now she was the shortest in her class, and while sometimes she got upset over it, he was glad.
Once they'd made it to the kitchen, Jack tried to not remember what'd happened there earlier, and had Megan open the freezer. Thankfully there was some cookie-dough ice cream. She grabbed it and Jack set her down. He went over to the cabinet that was over their counters and pulled out the cones he definitely knew they had.
They made their cones, Megan in fits of giggles at Jack's frosty and ice cream related puns.
They went into the living room once they'd finished and turned on the T.V. Jack gave her free reign of the remote and she went to the DVR, turning on her favorite show.
As much as he hated to admit, he loved this show too. It wasn't always for kids, scratch that, it really wasn't a kids show at all. It was completely awkward and adventure-filled, and it always made him happy at the stupid-ness of it.
Her favorite show was Adventure Time. She'd picked the gender-bent episode this time, "Bad Little Boy."
It was Jack's favorite episode, mainly because he loved Marshall Lee.
They sat together laughing at the Ice King being taunted by Marceline, sang along with Fionna and Marshall's duet, and teared up a bit at the end when Marshall got speared, even though they both knew he was faking. They laughed again at the Ice King, and the episode ended.
Their treat was long gone by now but they kept playing episode after episode. They watched the one where it was Ice King in a horse costume watching Finn and Jake sleep, the one where B-MO was lost and married a bubble, the one where Finn saved Fire Princess with his last breath through a kiss, the one where Tree Trunks lost her apples and yelled at flies, and the one where Finn went to the land of pillows. There were countless others they ended up watching as well, and after a while switched over to basically Disney's version which was Gravity Falls, and then The Amazing World of Gumball, and once Jack saw Megan had fallen back asleep, he put on The Holiday.
For some reason he felt like watching a romance movie. He quickly got sucked into the plot, loving the incredible chemistry between the characters. His favorite in this movie was Graham, played by Jude Law. He loved his voice. It was absolutely gorgeous. He couldn't put his finger on where, but he'd thought he'd heard it recently. Jack brushed that thought aside since he hadn't seen any Jude Law movies in a long time, and continued being entranced by the movie.
It didn't feel like too long to Jack before Jude and Cameron Diaz were saying there goodbyes. She was leaving England, headed back to California, and of course he was staying with his two daughters. She left, but on her way, she started crying. She hadn't been able to since she was a little girl. Cameron jumped out of her limo and ran back to the house she had swapped for a few weeks prior. She walked in to see Jude crying just as much as she was, if not more. They ended up together, finding a way to make their relationship work.
Jack turned off the T.V. and cried silent tears into his pillow. That part always got him.
After a good ten minutes of hard crying, he wiped his face and picked up the still-asleep Megan and carried her back up to her room. Jack tucked her in with the snow-monster, shut out the light, and quietly slipped out of the room and into his.
He once again realized he hadn't really eaten any real food and cursed to himself as his stomach growled, seemingly at the small amount of ice cream he had eaten and still unsatisfied. Jack looked at the clock and noticed it was already way past midnight.
He peered over at his phone, wondering who it was that had called him earlier, and immediately realized who it must've been. Oh duh. Pitch.
He was probably calling to see why I didn't show up Friday. Shit. I shouldn't of missed the call.
Jack tried not to think of the reason why he'd missed it in the first place and opened up his messaging. He saw a few new texts from Jamie, just asking how long he was grounded for and if they could hang out again soon.
Jack mentally sighed, and then did out loud as well.
He'd get back to him in the morning.
Jack started up a new text to who he thought was Pitch after going to put the number into his contacts.
Hey, sorry. This is Pitch, right? I know it's kinda late, but I'm really really REALLY sorry about not helping you out on your first day. I had some family stuff come up and I couldn't make it to school.
Surprisingly, he got a text back almost immediately.
It's not an issue. I've been up anyway. Not very knackered. You weren't at class Friday either? I had some of my own business I had to take care of. I guess we both felt equally bad without a reason.
That works. I'm happy I didn't miss anything then.
Miss anything? What do you mean by that, Jackson?
Jack felt shivers run down his spine and he paused. He could just picture Pitch saying that in his little accent.
I thought I told you to call me Jack.
So you did, but why avoid the question?
Jack sighed.
Because I don't like to lie unless it's for my own personal enjoyment, and I don't plan on telling you the truth.
You sound a bit too much like me at the moment.
I can't tell if that's good or bad.
It's all about perspective, Jackson.
Do I have to repeat myself?
I'm afraid you very well might.
Jack could picture Pitch's smug grin at that. There's no way he didn't have one painted on his face by his own text.
I give up. Call me whatever the hell you want.
That's more freedom than I think you realize you're willing to give.
What do you mean?
Just think the amounts of names I could come up with for you.
Well, I guess you're right then. I take back what I said.
Too late for that. You let my imagination wander. Now, which do you prefer: Jackie, Frosty, or my king?
First of all, I'm not a girl. Second, you can't buy me at Wendy's. And third, well actually, that has a nice ring to it.
Too bad. I favor the first two.
Don't you even dare call me those in class.
A little bit of a pause.
What'll you do to me if I did?
Jack felt his breath quicken. Why was it that this person always made him feel like he didn't have enough air? And it just wasn't when he could tell there might be an innuendo there, there definitely was one now, it was just being around him. He'd only know him a few days for fuck's sake.
What should I say? He thought to himself. This conversation could go one of two ways.
I'd have to think of a suckier name for you.
There was a much longer pause this time. Jack imagined Pitch not expecting that as an answer and chuckled that he'd managed to throw him off.
What do you have in mind?
Let's see… How about Koz, or Bitch, or maybe the Boogeyman.
Well. I understand the first, the next wounds me, Jackie, but I get the rhyme scheme, and the last one, now where did you possibly come up with that?
It's because I bet you freak out little kids.
You might have a point there.
That sent Jack into a fit of laughter.
I knew it.
I suppose you did.
After not knowing what to say back for minutes, Jack wracked his brain for a new subject.
So what's your first class tomorrow? Or should I say, today.
Anthropology, I believe.
Oh jeez, I've got that too. The teacher can be a real pain.
No one resists my charm for long. I'm sure I'll woo whomever it is over.
Jack bit his lip.
Keep talking that way and your ego will end up bigger than mine.
That's fine. I'm sure a lot of my things are bigger than yours.
Well, that was much more direct. This conversation was no longer good for Jack's teenage hormones.
Give me an example.
My car is bigger than your non-existent one.
Oh you clever bastard, Jack thought.
Compensating for something?
I don't have the need to. Get your mind out of the gutter, Frosty.
Not possible, sorry.
At least you're responding to the name now.
Jack cursed out loud.
The rest of their texting battle consisted of more of the same: slight innuendo's Pitch had no intention of following through on, irritation at each other's nicknames, and then maybe some relevant questions about the school, or things they had in common.
Once they finally said goodnight, it was already four a.m.
"You've got to be kidding me," Jack said to his phone's clock. I haven't talked that long to anyone since…
He cut off his thought and laid down, more tired than he'd realized now that his head wasn't being stimulated by trying to think of witty remarks.
It didn't take long for him to be fast asleep.
