#angstpants

[ediopologiist]

ooc: oh my god, only when I start replying to EVERYTHING do I realize that 90% of Ashley and my writing is angst, pain, dark angst, dark, and more pain. Did I mention ANGST?

oh but I love it.

[immortally-woundedarchive-b-blog]

/cause asks are too short/

Brooke had thought she'd heard something. Jack had fallen asleep on the couch and she'd stayed awake, as usual, per her lack of need for sleep. She'd heard something that sounded like a soft sob and had gotten up to see what the matter was. Her hearts hitched in her chest. Jack was sobbing. Downright /sobbing/ in his sleep. Albiet quietly, but that didn't make it any less painful. She crossed the room quickly and sat on the edge of the couch, taking his hand and then threaded fingers through his hair. 

She stroked a thumb across his cheekbone, hoping to soothe him. Her fingers came back wet with tears. Brooke bent and heaved Jack's head into her lap.

"Shh, hey- it's okay," she murmured, "It's okay, Jack." 

Jack couldn't even remember what the dream was about, if it was even about anything, but he remembered the crushing sadness. It was a vaguely lucid sleep where he knew he was crying, but was powerless to stop it or to wake up.

He was finally able to wake up when someone-Brooke, he realized after a moment-took his hand and started comforting him. 

He opened his eyes carefully, still shaking a bit. "S-sorry...I...I didn't mean to wake you, Brooke..." 

[immortally-woundedarchive-b-blog]

Crawl

your character was held down and forced to watch my muse beaten mercilessly. How does this scene affect them? 

Her face was warm with a splatter of blood that wasn't her own. The room was freezing cold, the lights overhead flickered like a dying firefly. Brooke was screaming. It took six other people to hold her at bay, and ringing through the air were the sickening sounds of Jack's torture. 

He couldn't even get up anymore. He had to lie there and take it. And perhaps that was what killed Brooke the most. Beyond the fact that they had no reason, beyond the fact that the two of them were handy and these people were bored and decided to hurt them for their own sick amusement. And Jack had volunteered because he knew he could survive. 

They'd thought it to be more humiliating for him to beat Brooke. But no, no, Jack had to fight so much that they resorted to breaking every bone in his body. And Brooke had to watch because it was that much more satisfying for them. And the room was filled with the sound of his bones cracking and snapping and splintering and flesh hitting bone and pavement and the floor was already covered in a small pool of blood. The metallic scent of it taunted her. 

She clawed at the people holding her down, bit, scratched, kicked as Jack's fingers were outstretched on the ground, fighting for purchase against the pain. She would not let them do this to her best friend. 

And finally, even Brooke had to stop fighting. And a few minutes after that, the group soon got bored and left them. Brooke fell to the floor and then scrambled over to him.

"Just lie still, Jack. God- I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You idiot. Why didn't you let me?" She was probably sobbing more than he was. Both their faces were streaked with blood and tears and Brooke pulled him into her lap, ignoring the fact that he shouldn't be moved. She needed to hold him, to make sure he was still alive. To know that he'd be okay.

This was her fault, dammit. 

And then she felt Jack shaking beneath her. Shaking with half-deranged, silent laughter that bitterly wracked his body. He knew he'd be okay. He was laughing at them. But he was dying. He'd be dead in a few seconds. 

She watched the light fade slowly from his eyes, knowing that he'd underwent too much. 

Just before Jack died, he mouthed something to her: 

We're okay.

And then he was gone.

And then in one breath he was back again. 

[ediopologiist]

They walked along, exchanging childish insults, and generally having a good time. Jack had just called her "Scrub Brush" as a means to insult her hair. He looked back, grinning to gauge her reaction. Brooke wasn't moving. She stood there, her eyes wide, and her breath shallow. He closed the distance between them, and wrapped his arms around her. "Brooke, I don't know what's wrong, but it will be okay." He ran his fingers through her hair gently. "You will be okay." He just hoped it was true.

Brooke stood stiffly in his arms, eyes locked on the park in front of her. The swings drifting in the wind, empty, waiting for someone to play. Autumn leaves swirled in tufts of color down the fence and her fingers tightened impossibly in Jack’s coat. Her throat felt like it was imploding in on itself. She couldn’t breathe.

But Jack was holding her. He wasn’t going to let go. He told her she’d be fine and Brooke struggled to believe him. Finally, with her knuckles white as she clung to him and her body shaking in his arms, she managed to gasp out: “Get me out of here, Jack.” 

[ediopologiist]

[letter symbol]

Jack,

I don’t even know what to say. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. You don’t hate me for that, do you? I… we need to meet up. I’ve got something you need to see. The reason I didn’t come see you at all is, well, actually nobody but K-9 has seen me in years. I… I’ve changed. And I’m frightened about how everyone will react.

It’s a little childish, I suppose. But I wanted to see you first. Before mum and dad. I don’t think I’m ready to see them yet. So Friday, the cuppa shop down the street from my office, midnight, yes? We ought to have the shop to ourselves.

I’ll see you there, I hope.

Brooke x

[ediopologiist]

"You’re dead to me." //Sorry wanted some angstpants

Brooke fell a step back and looked down at her feet. She swallowed and wondered what she’d done to make Jack hate her so. 

She fidgeted before taking a deep, resigned breath.

"Ok." 

[ediopologiist]

Comfort //continued from ask thread// captainjackspants

captainjackspants

Jack clenched his fists to keep from slapping her. Violence would just make things worse, besides she still intimidated him, even in this vulnerable state. Instead Jack wrapped her in a bone crushing hug and just sighed.

"Brooklyn Amelia Pond, I thought you were smart. I always heard such good things about your intelligence, and you were crafty enough to pull one over on me…but you’re obviously just an idiot." 

He pulled back from the hug and looked her in the eyes, and spoke in a very slow, serious tone. “Never ever think that the world would be better without you. It’s just not true.”

"But... isn't it?" she murmured, looking away from him and wrapping her arms around herself. "I mean... maybe it's not. But it would be fine without me. And maybe the world wouldn't be better off... but they would, they'd still have each other. And they wouldn't even remember me, and that's all they need, all they really wanted. Them. You know?" 

[ediopologiist]

☱

I don’t know what I would do without him. 

He’s always there for me, whether I just want to play monopoly (which he’s a bastard for always cheating at it), or I need a new dress for a date, or I need to be held. And honestly, he’s a little rubbish at comforting me, but he’s there… and that means more than anything else in the world.

Jack doesn’t have to understand, he just listens and that’s a really rare quality. And when I’ve run out of words to say he doesn’t mind silence. He’s the best friend I could ever ask for. I went into darkness, and he followed and stayed there with me. 

x