Life Can Do Terrible Things

He picked up a framed photo gently, careful not to move the dust on the top around. Every single thing in this old cardboard box was precious to him, even the gathering dust sitting on top of the photos he had brought with him when he moved into this house years ago.

"Holy shit, what was I thinking," The man said, flipping over the framed photo. Down at the bottom, it read '2007' in chicken-scratch handwriting. In even smaller print, he scanned across four faint names written in pen.

Jack, Alex, Zack, and Rian.

He flipped the photo back over, bringing it close to his face so he could see past the two inches of collected dust. And there they all were. 14 years ago seems like it was yesterday to him. He didn't want to grow up. He had no choice. People get older, they change, they expire.

People expire.

And then, it all came flooding back. The people. The memories. Every single person he had managed to meet within 14 years. The 14 years he spent living his dream. Those 14 years where he had managed to get away with being a little kid almost all the time, joking about immature stuff such as sex and drugs. How he could have any teenage girl he ever wanted wrapped around his finger, at any time.

How he had him wrapped around his finger, falling apart at the seams every time he said his name. He missed that.

Oh, did Jack miss Alex. More than anyone would ever know.

He remembered back when he was seventeen, a senior in high school, being able to live out his dreams of playing guitar in his very own band. He remembered the first time ever meting Alex and Zack and Rian, their first big performance. How they would share every single feeling going through their minds before shows. He remembered the moment when they all knew they were gonna make it big in the music industry quite clearly. He remembered some of heart-wrenching stories some of his fans told him, some of the stuff he'd been given at meet and greets, causing him to chuckle. He missed being surprised by loving and caring fans, not knowing what he was getting himself into.

But Jack also remembered the day he turned 29. That was five years ago, but he remembers it like it just happened yesterday. His birthday, the whole big birthday bash Alex had been planning since the day after his 28th birthday. God, he loved that kid so much. Always went out of his goddamn way to make others he cared about happy. He remembered the grand cake Alex had made especially for him, the party decorations, he remembered right after the party when Alex said he "wanted to talk."

He remembers disbanding the band.

He remembered agreeing to marry the boy of his dreams. Remembered putting out on twitter that the band was splitting up.

Jack remembered the videos he saw his fans make, 20 minutes or so at the least, countless girls and guys crying into a camera about how much they were gonna miss seeing their heroes live, or miss waiting for new albums and interviews to come out. He remembers sitting on his little couch in his new little house in Boston, Massachusetts, watching these videos for hours on end, biting his lip as tears fell softly from his cheek. Alex would always bring him more tissues and warm coffee and go, "It's for the best."

He remembers becoming serious with Alex, and becoming serious with the world and his own image.

Jack remembers what the rest of the band went and did, too. He remembers how Rian went off to marry Cassadee and move to Los Angeles. How Zack went off into the music industry alone to try and experiment. And how himself and Alex god married and adopted a little girl.

He remembers getting rid of his twitter. Selling every single 'BONER' shirt he brought with him when he moved. That was one of the hardest parts of moving on and separating himself from "25 year old guitarist of All Time Low Jack Barakat" and "34 year old husband Jack Barakat." He remembered when he sat down with Alex and dyed his hair a more normal, solid color. He remembers getting his first real job as an attorney. Wearing a suit to work every single day. No more random inappropriate outbursts. Never letting his tattoos show in public. He remembers how much he hated that job.

But he did it for Alex and their newly adopted daughter, April.

Oh, April. She was quite the character, something to talk about. She was 4 years old now, and she'd be going off to kindergarten in September. She was such a wise, bright girl. She definitely took over Alex's personality.

April Gaskarth.

Jack didn't want to send her off to school in a couple of months. He didn't want her to grow up. But he had no choice.

He remembered the day they brought April home, just a few weeks old. How ecstatic the two of them were to have a little girl running around the house with them. He remembers him and Alex talking over baby names for hours upon hours, and how they just couldn't make up their minds. He remembers her first birthday, how much fun the three of them had together, squishing cake in each other's faces. He remembers the night when -

"Daddy!" April came running into the living room and stopped abruptly when she realized how much stuff her father had all over the ground. She looked puzzled.

"Daddy, why do you have all of you and Daddy's old stuff out?" She looked disgusted at the amount of dust each memory had collected. She tried to wipe one off when Jack grabbed her tiny hand and enclosed it in his.

"Don't to that!" He raised his voice before bringing it back down to a normal level. "I just.. I just miss your father is all." He lifted April up and sat her back down on his lap, lightly bouncing her up and down.

"Don't worry Daddy! He's coming back soon, right?"

"Maybe." Jack's voice began to crack. "But if I were you I wouldn't count on it, pumpkin." He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. Tears began to form in his eyes. He blinked them away quickly, before April could even notice that he was upset. He picked up more photos from inside one of the cardboard boxes until he uncovered a faded red spiral notebook. On the outside, written in faded black Sharpie, was someone's familiar handwriting.

The notebook said "Lyrics."

His lyrics. Alex's handwriting, Alex's lyrics. Ones that made it out onto the radio and became hits, and others who never even got a chance to be sung.

Dear Maria was in that red notebook. Jack still heard it on the radio driving to work sometimes, and it took so much effort not to sing along or to play the air guitar or burst into tears, or even replay ever memory of the band in his mind. Walls was also in the book, which was a love song Alex wrote for Jack, but he didn't know that until a few years prior. There were other songs in here that Jack didn't even know Alex was writing. This red book amazed him more and more every time he read through it. It was almost like he was reading his husband's thoughts.

"Daddy, what's that?"

"This? Oh, it's your father's old book full of songs. See? That's the one he wrote for me back in 2009. It's called -"

"Walls," April read slowly off of the page. Jack cracked a wide-toothed grin and laughed.

"Yeah, Walls," He said. Jack could tell she into the song, trying to read some of the lyrics off the page. He cut her off.

"If you like that one, April, then I think you'll love this one," He didn't want April bringing back up memories of something he didn't want to remember. He began flipping the pages rapidly, knowing exactly the new song he was going to show her. It has been his all-time favorite for a while now, back even before the band split up.

He whispered softly into his daughter's ear. "It's called Vegas."

April took the notebook in her tiny little fingers, reading the lyrics out slowly and carefully.

"At night..... We lie awake... With stories taking us back...... To the nights we felt alive... -"

"The nights we felt alive." Jack echoed softly, rocking April back and forth on his lap.

His voice began to crack once more as memories began flooding back. The nights the four of them would stay up together, sometimes practicing, sometimes fooling around and doing the most useless shit anyone could ever think of. This song was written to describe the band and their dream, Alex once told him one night they were lying in bed together. It was still so hard to believe he was gone.

Jack remembered the night Alex came up to him, sobbing, telling him all about the internal sickness that was eating him alive, from the inside out. That he only had months left. Two or three, at the most. The doctors had no idea how sick he really was, nor did anybody know what he had or any idea how to cure it. He remembered telling Alex it was gonna be alright, that he was gonna pull through after all. He remembered Alex getting sicker and sicker by the day, slowly giving up hope that he would make it through the illness. His comments went from "You'll make it through, you're so strong and I love you," to " You die for a specific reason. You did absolutely nothing wrong in life. You're going to be just fine, and remember that everything happens for a specific reason." Jack remembered how Alex soon got so sick he could no longer get out of bed. Sooner or later he lost all ability to speak. It killed Jack, absolutely killed him to see the man of his dreams dying right in front of him, and knowing he could say anything he wanted to to try and make Alex feel better and he could never get a response. It killed him knowing that his partner in crime was going to die, and he couldn't even hear his voice one last time. He remembered the day he woke up with a cold body next to him. He remembered sitting there for ten minutes trying to wake him up for another day of sitting there in bed, being force-fed food and hopeless comments about getting better by Jack. He remembered sitting there for even longer, crying into the dead boy's neck, hugging him, playing with his hair, kissing his cheek over and over, whispering his last goodbyes. How much he loved him. How much he didn't want to see him go. How he was going to try and keep his promises and take care of the house and their daughter the best he could.

How could he forget? The memories were burned into the back of his mind.

He remembers Alex telling him that he had tied their relationship together in this song as well as the band's dream, and it was absolutely one of Jack's favorite song as soon as it came out on the record. He remembered Alex would sing parts of it before he fell asleep, back when he could talk...

"Aww, Daddy, don't cry!" April looked up at Jack, reaching her tiny arm in the air, her tiny fingers wiping the under his eyes. His heart broke a little bit more. He hadn't even realized he was sobbing. April surely didn't need to see him like this.

"April, I'm alright. See? I promise." He smiled, eyes still glinting from forming tears. "You know, you're just like your father..." He put down Alex's notebook and picked her up. "Always knowing when something's wrong or if someone is feeling sad or angry or upset, and you immediately try to fix it. It's why I love you so much." He smiled, kissing her.

"I love you too, Daddy," She said, her eyes wandering over the photos Jack hadn't yet taken out of the box. She picked one up carefully. It was a picture of her fathers down in Disney.

"Daddy? Why don't you ever smile like this anymore?"

Jack took the picture from her hands, looking over it carefully.

"Oh, April," Jack hugged her tightly. "You see, your father was the only person in the world who could ever make me smile like that. And, well, since he's no longer here with us.." Jack put the picture down and picked up another one, this one more recent. Their second trip to Disney. Right before they adopted April. He found another one, this one all the way back from high school, of the entire band doing some stupid shit or something.

Jack sighed heavily.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, princess?" Jack turned his attention back toward his daughter. Even though she was adopted, Jack was beginning to see more and more of Alex in her every single day.

April Mae Gaskarth.

"Why do you think Daddy's never coming back? Don't you want him to come back home, too?"

Jack sighed again. "April, honey, there's nothing more I want than for Daddy to come back. But I've told you this before, Daddy's really sick, in fact he's so sick I wouldn't expect him to be coming home any time soon. He just doesn't wanna get you sick is all."

'God, she's going to kill me when she finds out that he really died.'

"I'm hopeful he'll come back and visit us, but you can't get your hopes up, alright? Promise me you won't keep your hopes up."

"But Daddy, why would you -"

"Honey," Jack started before he took a long, dragged out sigh. He pulled April into a huge hug before going on. "Honey... Life can do some pretty terrible things sometimes. And sometimes, you can't get your hopes up for things like this because you'll only disappoint yourself, okay?"

"Okay."

'She had no idea what she was agreeing to,' Jack thought. 'She's just a little kid. Why do I even bother telling her this kind if stuff anyways?'

"Tell you what," April got off of Jack's lap as he stood up. "I'll take you out for dinner tonight because you've been such a good girl today while I've been cleaning up your father's old things. How does that sound?"

"Okay!" And before Jack could say anything, she ran out of the living room.

"Just don't do anything too horrible between now and dinner time!" Jack laughed, headed up the stairs. "Just like her father."

♥ ♦ ♣ ♠

Jack hurried up the stairs, entering the office which he once shared with Alex, grabbing the first empty spiral notebook he could find, and settled down on the couch with a pen and black Sharpie marker. He looked at the cover.

It was red, just like Alex's.

He took the black Sharpie marker and wrote in chicken-scratch writing.

"Lyrics."

He flipped to a random page inside and began writing.

Dear Alex,

It's almost been a year here in Boston without you. April and I are doing fine, but we miss you every day, especially her. She's always asking me if you'll come back soon and I keep on telling her maybe, maybe someday soon. I don't know how long I can keep up this lie, though, I think she's onto me. I just.. We just miss you a lot down here. Maybe you can grant our wishes true and come visit us soon? We love you more than you'll ever know.

Jack kept writing. All of his feelings went down in this little note Alex would never have the chance to read, yet he still kept writing. Tears were falling slowly now. The more he wrote, the more Jack began to cry, the words written in black ink turning into black smudges. On another page in the notebook, this page a lot drier, Jack scribbled down a title to a song, and began writing:

"Terrible Things."