par après avs yeux

- a jalex story-

a/n: Thank you all so much for continuing to read and review. I have put and will continue to put a lot of work into this story - so much so that I am not writing anything else until I complete this. Dedication? Indeed. So keep reviewing. They put a smile on my face and make me feel like it's worth the hours writing this story, that I'm appreciated. I think we all understand that feeling. So, yeah. Review. But really, enjoy it, I mean. (:


chapter four - justin


Nous portons le masque qui sourit de le et les mensonges,

Il cache nos joues et ombrage nos yeux,—

Cette dette que nous payons à l'artifice humain;

avec les coeurs déchirés et ensanglantés que nous sourions,

et articuler silencieusement avec les subtilités de myriade.

.

We wear the mask that grins and lies,

It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—

This debt we pay to human guile;

with torn and bleeding hearts we smile,

and mouth with myriad subtleties. - Paul Dunbar


I don't mean to scream.

It happens accidentally and thankfully Alex used a silencing spell when we were young on the room to keep sounds from traveling past the door. For a second I think I surely must be dreaming. I'm lying in a strange bed that smells like the barest hint of jasmine - Alex's old bed - and Alex is looking down at me, but she has the body of a seventeen year old. Knowing Alex, she probably put some kind of spell on me that made me think I'd lost all of my achievments. There has to be a spell like that out there, surely.

Or maybe the insane, frightening politics of my job as Headmaster have finally driven me over the edge. My brain has resituated itself in a time where the stress of expectations isn't nearly so high, giving me a kind of mental vacation. I probably figured out a way for the IPP to temporarily shoot me back in time to re-evaluate my priorities. I wouldn't have had to change the structure of the device all the much to make it switch time and dimensions instead of locations.

Alex is tapping her foot agitatedly on the carpet. I can hear the unintentional rhythm she's making with her toes.

"Are you done trying to come up with ridiculous scenarios?" Alex asks me, crossing her arms now. The look in her eyes is not so much deer-in-the-headlights as it is helpless frustration and a hint of fear. I rarely ever see the look on my devious little sister anymore, save the occasions she knows that I'm going to get her back for a prank and can't predict what I'll do.

"They aren't ridiculous," I tell her, sitting up a little bit and frowning when I realize that I'm not wearing a shirt. One look under her blankets proves that I'm not wearing anything at all. "Uh, why am I nude?"

She freezes in the middle of chewing me out for acting too much like a nerd and I swear I see something like hurt flash across her face.

"You don't remember?" she asks softly, nearly pleading with me.

I take a minute to think back, trying to remember how I got to be naked in my sister's bed. There are fuzzy images darting through my consciousness - kissing someone, lying them down - and I flush as I wonder what the hell I've done with a girl in Alex's room of all places. But something doesn't seem right. The jasmine scent is lingering on me too and when I look up I see that Alex is wearing a nice, button up shirt that I must have had on before I went and deflowered myself to someone.

"Was I giving you a live presentation on sexual activity?" I ask Alex nervously, gulping and wondering why I sound so professional. I feel like I'm much older than I really am, but I can't seem to pin-point why. How frustrating.

She shrugs, leans against the wall. Her voice is stiff when she says, "You could say that."

I run a hand through my hair and try to remember when I decided to let it grow out. Yet I've always had it like this, but it's all kind of blurry. I feel like I don't belong here, but I'm here anyways. Magic has to be involved. Something is going on.

"I - I," I stutter, looking up at her. Alex flushes. "I think I need to take a walk," I tell her, reaching out a hand for my pants. "Maybe I'll stop by and see Juliet or something." She hands me my slacks and I shrug them on awkwardly under the covers, trying to keep myself covered for both my sake and my sister's innocence. Though with the look she's giving me - a mix of heated longing and hurt - I wonder if she's all that innocent.

"Cool," Alex says, shoving her hands in her pockets and stepping back towards the door. "Okay." She crumples something in her right hand - something blue - and opens the door, sliding halfway out. "Call my number if you - if you like trip or something, which I highly expect. We all know you have a low pain tolerance."

"I will," I say, wondering why I don't banter back. There is a sense of weirdness about it now, like we've learned at least a little to get along.

Alex disappears behind the door and I'm left to slide off the bed and ruffle my hair, wondering why I feel so strange, why I feel like I no longer belong here. This is my life, for God's sake. I'm growing up and preparing for the Wizard competition - which I have to win if I want to stay with Juliet; besides, everyone will be shocked if the smart one doesn't win - and I'm dating the girl that I love. I have Alex and Max to squabble with, to compete with and, on occasion, to rely on. This is my life.

Yet I refer to myself as Headmaster, feel the weight of an engagement on my left hand.

I feel like I'm a stranger.


It is an odd feeling, walking down Waverly Place and feeling as though I'm stuck in a time warp. The memories are returning one by one and I can picture my office as Headmaster of Wiztech now, the desk scrubbed, polished and organized, the walls decorated with past headmasters. I remember hearing Max say that he was probably going to lose the girl he loved because she was a full wizard and he was a mortal. Running a hand through my hair to comb it back to perfection, I grunt in frustration and wish that I was back in regular time. I don't understand why we're stuck here, but I'm guessing that Alex did something again and I'll have to fix it. Again.

Because that's just what we do.

There's the kid selling his annual newspapers and charging way too much for him. I remember watching him grow up and start shaving; he got interested in some girl named Penny - the irony never failed to amuse Alex - and decided it was in his best interest to wear suits. Right now he's eleven years old, but from where I should be he's twenty-two, just finished with college and showing Penny the world. She was the only girl who could ever tolerate him.

I see Penny now, hiding behind one of the displays across the street, secretly eyeing the kid. When she sees me looking, she blushes bright red and ducks down further. Young love, I think with a shake of my head.

"Are you done with the doll-house yet?" A familiar voice pipes up and I glance down, sighing when I see Olive. She's young again, hair pulled back and braided, a smile on her face, her body still pre-puberty.

"Not yet," I answer weakly, thinking forward three years, the day that Olive's parents decided that they wanted to leave Waverly Place for more job opportunities and a better school for their daughter.

Olive had begged Alex and I to smuggle her into one of our rooms for just a few weeks while she "sorted things out," but we'd refused. So, the night before the move, ten year old Olive had slid out of her window and wandered the streets away from home. About a half-mile away she'd hobbled, half-asleep, into the middle of the street and was hit by a truck driver too preoccupied changing the the radio to check for obstructions. A law-suit had commenced, but I had never been able to get Olive's face out of my mind, the way she'd pleaded with us; irrationally, I blame myself for her accident, though I know it was not my doing.

Looking at her bright brown eyes now, I wish that I could protect her. Perhaps I can, but it would disrupt something in the future.

Instead, I smile and walk away, the memories coming faster now, along with a sickening sense of guilt seemingly without an origin. Plodding ahead, I find myself at the entrance to Juliet's old home - the one she inhabited before she got old and hobbled off into the woods; her parents had always liked it here, despite their complaints, but they couldn't stay with the thought of their daughter's ashes scattered God knows where.

"What are you doing here?" I catch a glimpse of blonde hair and carefully concealed fangs before Juliet is in my arms, hugging me so tightly I can barely breathe. "I haven't seen you in days," she breathes against my neck, still clutching me as though she's scared I'll just walk away.

I think of the engagement band now in my wallet and smile at her, brushing a lock of her curly hair behind her right ear.

"Thinking through some things," I say, tangling our fingers together. She blushes a wonderful rosy color.

"What kind of things?" Juliet wonders, pulling me further up the street. I let her. "So long as you're not going to tell me about your proposition for Mars again. I think I've gotten that one memorized forwards and backwards."

My eyes widen a little and I reply with, "I thought you liked the idea."

Juliet looks a bit stunned, but she quickly covers it up with a laugh. "I meant to say wonderful proposition. Must have left it out by accident. Budget cuts and all."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I kiss her cool cheek and say, "Nice save. I was actually thinking about being grateful for the things I have now. Sounds stupid, I know, but I tend to take things for granted, things and people I care a lot about. So I was trying to self-reflect and realize that things don't last forever, so I should cherish them while I can."

"That doesn't sound stupid," Juliet says, leaning forward and kissing me softly.

I miss this, I think as our bodies press against each other and I'm filled with overwhelming love for the blonde. I did love you, but I couldn't keep going behind your back and hurting you with -

Suddenly, I remember: bodies tangling, a soft voice pleading "just once, before I lose you to her," drowning in how irresistably right something terribly wrong can feel. There is darkness, clothes raining down on the floor, gasps as two become one. Alex's smile dips into my neck as we move as one and I remember loving her, caring for her more intensely than I've ever cared for anyone in my entire life. I remember the blue post-it notes in her hand and the panic as she revealed to me her mind trapped in a seventeen year old body. It's not just Alex's fault that we're stuck like this, I think, pulling back and hoping that I don't look too guilty. It's my fault too.

The guilt is horrible, nearly crippling me this time. Why am I here with Juliet?

What the hell am I doing?

Alex's face...I'd crushed her earlier.

"Justin-wustin, are you okay?" Juliet asks, concerned, laying her hand on my arm and looking at me in such a loving manner that it makes me sick. I can't do this, not now, not ever. I can't hurt Juliet like this, not when she loves me so much.

"I'm fine," I mumble, smiling and kissing her nose. She giggles and I realize that I haven't heard that sound in years, if we're going by how old my mind is. The Juliet from my present has had the spirit nearly drained out of her. She's weary, slumping as she walks around the house and it's my fault. I've been living with a woman that needs my love and I can't give it to her.

"I have to go - go, um, do something," I continue, brushing my fingers along her jaw as I back up. Juliet's confused look flashes through my face as I whirl and prepare to bolt. That's when the scrap of blue catches my attention. I tug the post it-note from the cart across the walk and open it with trembling fingers, feeling my heart sink as I do.

Entertain Juliet until this evening. Later, boast to Alex about what a great time you had.

Failure to comply will end in severe consequences on your beloved's part.

Alex is in danger and you are the only one who can save her.

My eyes meet Juliet's when I turn around and I offer up a fake smile that I hope will please her.

"Tag," I shout. "You're it." Then I sprint down the street like I have the whole Wizard Council on my tail, knowing that the real danger is the panic pressing on my heart.

Someone is playing with us, and we have no choice but to comply.


"There you are," Alex exclaims when I burst through the library doors leading to the restricted section. I was adamently against meeting her here - sent her a strongly worded voice message on her phone telling her what I thought of her living-on-an-edge behavior - but as usual, Alex doesn't care.

"Here I am," I mutter, slumping down into the seat opposite where she's pacing and reaching for the water bottle I asked her to bring. I've been letting Juliet chase me around Waverly Place for the past few hours and my muscles feel like jello.

Alex huffs and crosses her arms, "I texted you an hour and a half ago telling you to meet me here. What happened, Mr. Punctual?"

"Since when did you become me?" I ask, leaning back and taking another gulp of water. "I reserve the right to freak out about being places on time."

"Which is why you should have been here an hour ago," Alex snaps, slamming her hand down on one of the books she's stacked up on the table between us. Considering that my little sister never even knew our old school had a library, I'm slightly impressed she's here studying and cross-referencing. Though, she did teach that delinquent class, so I guess she had to pick up some of my habits.

"Look, I'm sorry," I begin, waving my hands up in surrender. "I was spending some quality time with my girlfriend. Excuse me for wanting to build a solid bond with the woman I love." God, I'm sorry, Alex. I don't mean it.

Alex flinches back and I feel like I'm choking on my words. Under any other circumstances I wouldn't hurt her like this, especially with a topic so fragile, but I have no choice. Whoever these people are leaving us the post-it-notes, they don't sound like they have an ounce of compassion within them and are therefore capable of anything.

"You still don't remember, do you?" Alex asks quetly, wrapping her arms about herself as though they can help shield from my words.

I shrug, "No, I remember everything. I was just having so much fun with Juliet and I lost track of time. We can get started now, though."

Alex leans against the book-shelf and I feel like the worst person in the world when I see her lower lip wobble, just barely. She's trying to hide it, but I can see the heart-breaking sadness in the back of her eyes, the regret there I wish I didn't have to plant. I can't stand the thought of her dying; she can hate me and live. I can take her hate, but if she died then I don't know what I'd do. You probably regret loving me at all, I think, hoping it's not true. We're stronger than that. We've grown up being different, as wizards, and can take a lot of hits before we break.

"I guess," she mumbles. "Are you done putting up your cool front? Because it's not working."

Shaking my head, I laugh and murmer, "I could never pretend around you, could I?"

"Nope," Alex says with a small smile. She holds up a blue-post it note and I realize that she's snatched it from my pocket without me being aware of it. But no, here is mine, right here. I hold it up and give her a questioning look.

She rolls her shoulders back and says, "Did you honestly think they'd scare me away that easily?"

"Not even if it endangers me?" I ask her with a hint of annoyance. Alex has always played the game in the hopes that she will win; she's not used to watching over anyone else and certainly doesn't have the best track record when it comes to selflessness.

"They'd only beat me to it," Alex jokes, patting my arm. "Siblings being mortal enemies and all that."

"Ah, I forgot," I respond, and our laughter fills the room. It takes a small amount of effort to ignore the speck of hurt - of unease - still in her beautiful eyes. "So, you found something?"

"Yeah, I figured I'd beat you to the books this time," Alex says, her voice carrying a mocking lilt to it, "you know, since we're switching personalities for the trip and everything."

"Well, show me," I say. "It can't be that bad, right?"

Alex's smile drops off her face, "Actually - um - it's pretty complicated. Took me awhile to find, considering it's one of the oldest rules ever created in the magic realm."

"I knew magic was involved," I cut in.

Alex's voice is dry when she mumbles, "You're a genius. Look, we're dealing with an ancient rule here, which makes it incredibly difficult to find something to counter-act whatever spell was activated."

"What ancient rule is this?" I ask her, hoping it's not what I think it is, knowing that my gut feeling is probably right.

This time, when Alex's eyes meet mine, she looks devastated. "Incest is forbidden in the magic world as well as the mortal realm," she whispers at last, flipping the book in front of her to the very back. Dust flies up. "It says here that if two siblings fall in love with one another and promise the vows restricted to a man and woman of different blood-lines, the ancient curse is activated. Participants of this horrendous act will be given a second chance at life, a way to rewrite the past and save the world from their terrible mistake. If they are successful in this re-write, without disrupting the future more than the tiniest shift, they are invited to join their old lives and continue on with pure hearts. Should they refuse to do so, their powers will be stripped and their identities lost."

Words leave my grasp for a moment and I simply look at the book. Alex looks on the brink of tears, though I know she won't let them fall.

"So," I mutter, "when we - in your room -"

Alex nods. "I think the Council has preset the events to occur while we're stuck here. That's why we've been getting the post-it notes," she says slowly, as though she's trying to understand it herself. She's probably terrified, though she's not showing it.

"What does the Council want out of this?" I ask.

Alex's lower lip trembles again and my dreams for the future, for us, for real happiness, disappear.

"They want us to swear against each other," she says, voice quivering. "They want us to hate each other, or we'll lose our powers and who we are."

"Will we go back to the present as someone else?" I wonder, taking her hand and weaving our fingers together.

She shakes her head and chokes out, "I don't think we'll go back at all. We'll just disappear."

Our eyes meet like they have so many times, only this time, we're both thinking the same thing.

What the hell are we going to do?


..::.:.:::être continué:::.:.::..

..:.:..::...to be continued..::..:.:::.:..