Sanitarium

"I don't get why we have to be in here," Alex says with a groan and roll of his eyes, head banging against the wall he's sitting with his back pressed to. His knees are bent, feet flat on the ground with his arms stretched out before him, resting comfortably on his legs.

"They've already explained it to both of us a hundred times, Lex," Jack replies back with a sigh, "and I've said it more times than I can even care to remember."

"It just doesn't make any sense!" the elder exclaims angrily, hands clenching into fists before he moves them to slap his now-open palms on the cold concrete he's sat upon.

"Relax, babe," Jack coos softly, standing from the uncomfortable bed situated in the corner on the other side of the room and moving to kneel in front of his boyfriend.

"No, I want some real answers! What did we even do? We didn't do a damn thing to deserve being stuck in this... this... fucking prison," Alex all but growls, pushing away Jack's outstretched hand before standing to his feet and beginning to pace around the room. It's something he's come to do much more frequently in the last few days than he ever had, even when they weren't 'stuck in this fucking prison,' as he often describes it.

Jack doesn't view the room they're currently stuck in as a prison, not since he still has Alex by his side, but he does agree with the fact that it kind of sucks—not being able to go out and do whatever they so please whenever they feel like it. It's even worse that they don't have music or their own clothes, but Alex sings anything and everything, no matter what mood he's in, if Jack even so much as hints to wanting to hear a certain song or just his voice in general.

Jack doesn't understand how he'd gotten so lucky to have such an amazing boyfriend. One who never fails to drop everything to make him happy; one who's all-around talented; one who's gorgeous on both the inside and out; one who loves him even with all of his little, insignificant insecurities and fears. What had he even done to deserve Alex? He isn't particularly talented or all that attractive. He isn't the most outgoing or even the remotest bit interesting. He really doesn't have anything going for him... like, at all. Except he has Alex, and no one else does. But how he'd gotten the shorter boy in the first place would never fail to be a complete mystery to him.

Jack had always been bullied in school, and he’d handled it. It never got too bad, not to the point where he'd be left unconscious or anything. Sure, he was often covered in minor bruises here and there, but it could've been much worse, and he knows that. It had just really kind of been a hurricane over his parade, knowing that no one wanted to be around him, and the only reason they did was because they didn't have a choice or because they needed to be within a certain distance to harass him.

He remembers that that's how he'd met Alex in the first place. Well... sort of.

It was his junior year of high school, and the final bell had rung no more than half an hour before. He'd been walking home when a bunch of jocks cornered him, leaving him no way of escape. They'd spent a few moments taunting him, going on about silly things like his looks, sexuality and his slight lisp, things that Jack knew he had—or lacked—before the fists started raining down. He couldn't even call for help; he was too socially awkward to raise his voice above a gentle mumble, no matter the circumstance.

It had continued on for no more than fifteen minutes, but when they'd finally walked off, clearly feeling triumphant and proud, Jack could only try and regulate his breathing whilst standing and dragging his worn body on down the road towards his house once more.

"Hey!" he suddenly heard a voice call out as he was walking past the park about five minutes from his home.

Jack's heart began to race in his chest, eyes widening and body trembling pathetically when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, faster and heavier than any normal footfall. That's how he could tell that the person was running. When he looked up, however, it was to a guy dressed in a beanie, black skinny jeans and a Brand New shirt, and Jack was even sure he owned the same one at home.

"Are you okay?" the strange, attractive boy asked cautiously, slowing to a halt a good five feet away, brown eyes that—surprisingly—looked much like Jack's own staring at him with obvious worry.

Jack simply nodded in response, dropping his head back down towards the ground in hopes that he'd just be left alone.

"I, um... I... uh, do you wanna, like, talk about it or something? I don't know, I mean, if you don't want to, it's totally fine. Like, you don't know me, I get it if you don't trust me or something, but you look like you could use a friend?" the boy offered, cheeks tinting red just slightly, teeth chewing at his plump, pink bottom lip, and Jack may have swooned, but only slightly.

What were the odds of this seemingly-perfect boy being gay, or even being remotely interested in someone as dull and weak as Jack?

"I promise I won't bite," the boy said after a few moments of silence, a smile overtaking his face as he held his hand out for Jack to take.

And maybe it was the tone of voice, or the way the boy's smile reached his eyes, much more warm and inviting than anything else Jack had ever seen, but he reached out and clasped his hand.

"By the way," the boy with the beanie said as they began the short walk to a tree situated near the outskirts of the park, "my name's Alex."

The beaten, broken boy smiled a little more as he answered, "Jack."

It had only progressed for the two from that point out, and though Jack couldn't see Alex during the school day—since he went to Dulaney and the other boy went to Towson—they spent nearly every other waking second together. Jack had never been to Alex's house or met any of Alex's other friends, but that was merely because Alex said his home life wasn't the greatest, and that Jack was his only friend. And, really, who was Jack to question that? His home life was fine, sure, his mother and siblings being quite fond of Alex, but Alex was also his only friend, and as long as they had each other, they didn't need anyone else.

Alex was the one to ask Jack out at the end of their senior year, and the younger boy couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier. Other than when he'd first met Alex, of course, and even that was probably a close second to the joy he felt.

None of their dates ever really consisted of anything other than cuddling and watching movies in the younger's room. Lazy, light as feather kisses would often be shared between the two, but they never took it any further; Jack was still frightened by the possibility of losing his virginity, even after knowing that Alex loved him. He just wasn't ready, and Alex had understood completely, not wanting the younger to feel uncomfortable. That sealed the deal on whether or not Jack loved Alex, but it was still just sweet, gentle kisses. Both were content with little pecks, and that was all there really was to it.

And now, in this room, they aren't allowed to kiss. It doesn't stop them, obviously, but if they were to get caught, they'd probably try and separate the two men, both of whom are now at the age of twenty, and that's the absolute last thing either wants. How would they even survive in here without the other?

"You're just going to stay here for a little while, okay?" they—the people who check on them and bring them food everyday (only one tray, though, which will never fail to confuse the males)—tell the two, who nod along even though they're bursting with endless questions and demands. "You can go home in a few days, but first we need to do a couple of tests and observe you," is what they say, and it doesn't make any sense, but since it was Jack's mom who brought them here, it must be pretty vital... right? That's what Jack tells Alex, and though the elder wants to scoff at the explanation, he doesn't, instead simply opting to bite his tongue and keep quiet.

What good would arguing do anyway? They'd just end up mad at each other—Jack more than likely in tears and Alex torn between being angry and gushing apologies—and neither of them would really be able to do anything about it until the other apologized and admitted that they were wrong. It would be Alex to admit defeat first; it always is.

"Lexy, come sit with me," Jack says quietly, causing the shorter man to falter in his ruthless pacing and rapid-fire thoughts before looking over to the brown doe eyes gazing up at him. Jack has long since seated himself on the ground as Alex had been before, and his arms are held up, a silent plea for the elder to come and sit; just take a quick breather.

Alex nods, a sigh falling from his lips; he can't deny Jack. He can't tell the dark-haired boy no. The elder makes his way back over to his beau and plops down next to him, allowing Jack to lean into his side as his right arm winds around the taller's shoulders, his left hand moving to link with the younger's on said man's thigh.

"You know I love you, right?" Alex asks quietly, tilting his head so that his lips brush gently along Jack's forehead. "No matter what happens or where we are or any of that other bullshit, you know that I love you, and that I always will, right?"

Jack can't help the grin that overtakes his features, the deep blush that covers his cheeks, or how his eyes subconsciously shift to look down at their tangled hands as he replies, "Of course I do, Lex. I love you, too. More than anything; you're my everything."

Outside the room, on just the other side of the thick, metal door, stand Mrs. Barakat—Jack's mom—and Dr. Casselman, who are simply watching through the small one-way window positioned near the top of the heavy slab. They can see the lumpy bed, the bland walls, and the broken boy. They only see one boy, though, not two.

"He really hasn't shown significant progress, if any at all," Dr. Casselman says softly, as though he's actually distressed at having to be the one delivering such horrible news. "He continually talks to himself, as he had been before, but whenever we try and address this 'Alex' with him, he tells us to ask Alex himself. He’s even long since stopped that, now refusing to talk to anyone who isn’t Alex. We feel that at this point in his life, there isn't much hope for Jack; if you hadn't encouraged his imaginary friend along for so many years, then he would have simply grown tired of Alex and abandoned him before coming back to the real world, but now Alex is completely whole in his mind. He's someone who loves and cares for him, a person his age that connects with him emotionally; one who would never hurt him like so many others before have."

"What are you trying to say?" Mrs. Barakat demands, voice tight and rigid, as though she's merely asking because she feels like it's her only choice. Like there's nothing else she can do or say. Like it just has to be done.

"What I'm trying to say," Dr. Casselman starts, doing all in his power to find a way to put his words into a proper, humane sentence, "is that Jack is no longer fit for society, and he never will be. I'm sorry, Mrs. Barakat, but Jack has, by the institution, been labeled mentally deranged."

"Jacky's insane?" Mrs. Barakat inquires numbly, though it really just sounds like more of a statement than anything. She'd known even before she'd brought him in that it was too late, but there was always that small glimmer of hope that told her maybe, just maybe something could be done for her beloved baby boy.

"We're very sorry, Mrs. Barakat," is the last thing she hears before breaking down in the hallway.

Back in the room, Jack's starting to get bored. Or is he tired? He can't really distinguish between the two anymore, but the remedy is always Alex's voice.

"Lex?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you sing something for me?" the younger asks, looking up through his eyelashes to see his boyfriend already staring down adoringly at him, small smile spread across perfect, pink lips.

"Of course," Alex says with a nod, leaning down to press another kiss to Jack's forehead. "What do you wanna hear?"

"Doesn't matter," Jack says in reply, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall so less of his weight is pressing into his boyfriend. It's quiet for a moment before Alex's angelic voice begins serenading him.

"Welcome to where time stands still. No one leaves, and no one will..."