Glory and Gore Go Hand in Hand

Jack looked down at his hands, noticing his usual black attire contrasted vastly with Alex's white couch he was currently perched on. He picked at the side of his thumb, wishing he had a game plan before barging in here the way he did. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to say to Alex, 'Hey, sorry for leaving the other night, but it's because I'm a mass murderer and I'm supposed to kill you..' Yeah, not likely that would go over too well.

"Would you like some tea?" Alex asked, breaking the painful silence. Jack couldn't hold in his laugh. "What?" Alex questioned somewhat self consciously.

"Nothing, that's just very British of you," Jack teased. The older boy playfully rolled his eyes in response.

"I'll take that as a no. And you should know you're missing out, my tea is fucking fantastic." Alex went into his kitchen and began making his 'fucking fantastic' tea while humming softly to himself. Jack tried to figure out which song it was, but couldn't. So he decided to ask.

"Oh it's not an actual song," Alex explained. "Just a little something I've been coming up with in my head lately."

"Does it have a title?" Alex jumped up on his countertop and sat down, swinging his legs.

"No, I haven't gotten that far," He replied with a smile. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Have you written any songs or anything? I know you play guitar.." Jack raised his eyebrows, questioningly. "I could feel the calouses on your fingers." He explained afterwards.

"Oh, God no. I don't have talent like that." Alex opened his mouth to respond, but the teapot on the stove began steaming loudly, interrupting the conversation and bringing forth the real issue at hand. Jack began picking at the side of his thumb again, unsure where to begin. So he watched as Alex poured himself a cup and add sugar and cream into it. He then hoisted himself back onto the counter, once again swinging his legs. He looked at Jack expectantly.

"I should probably start off by saying I'm sorry.." Jack began. "I know leaving like that was kind of a dick move."

"It was a really big dick move," Alex agreed, sipping his tea.

Jack smiled a little before continuing. "I know this isn't an excuse but I was freaked out. And surprised. That's not something I was expecting, is all. And I panicked. I really do like you, Alex..I mean, obviously," he teased, gesturing to his ankle.

Alex laughed and set down his cup. "You're right. It isn't an excuse, but I don't blame you, Jack. I freaked out, too. It's natural. We were both surprised, is all." Jack smiled, grateful Alex was so understanding to..well, to his lies. And he couldn't help but feel guilty about it for the first time ever.

Jack knew he couldn't stay very long at Alex's but it didn't make leaving any easier. He made sure to keep track of time, knowing London was six hours ahead of New York. And Jack couldn't stay so long that Ian would wake up, realizing he didn't have his pager. So, he said his goodbye to Alex, gave him his number and assured him he'd be back in a few days, explaining he was here for business, which technically wasn't a lie.

Regardless, Jack already missed Alex and it had only been an hour and the caramel haired boy was the only thing on his mind. Jack had some serious shit to figure out.

Suddenly there was a knock on his door and he knew it would be Ian, looking for his pager. So, he grabbed it off his table and opened the door, ready to lie to the only person he could actually trust.

"Hey, did I leave my-" Jack held it up to him, cutting him off mid question. Relieved, Ian grabbed it from him and made his way into Jack's apartment. "Thank Zeus," he exhaled. "I thought I had lost it and I was freaking out."

"Well, I guess some couples got lucky last night."

"Yeah, for now." Ian smirked. He sat down on Jack's worn couch and flipped the television on. "You know Jack, you really should look into getting a nicer place. I'm pretty sure something in the corner just moved." Jack rolled his eyes, while pouring himself a cup of coffee, not bothering to offer Ian any.

"I don't need a nicer place though. It has the bare essentials and I'm happy with that."

"Christ Jack, stop trying to be so modest. You could live anywhere in the world, yet you choose a crappy apartment in New York."

"Yeah, and I like it here." Ian rolled hos eyes and threw the remote on the couch between them.

"Then what about a vacation home? You could go to Italy, Madrid, London..anywhere, really."

Jack stopped mid drink of his coffee. "You know Ian, you make a good point. Maybe I will look into a vacation home in London, or just outside of it."

"'Atta boy," He praised with a smile. "Besides there's a lot of cute British guys over there for you." Jack hummed in agreement, yeah he could think of one cute British guy in particular.

Ian stayed longer than Jack was hoping for. Frankly, he was exhausted being as he was in London all night and he wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and sleep, forgetting about his current problems. But of course, that couldn't happen either. Before leaving, Ian had asked if Jack could be on call tonight. As usual, Jack obliged.

Grudgingly, Jack turned the volume of his pager up, and lied down on his bed, closing his eyes and falling asleep immediately. Unfortunately, that didn't last long. The sharp pitch pierced through his dreamless sleep and jack got up groaning. It was one in the morning and he needed to go to France. Jack hated France.

Regardless, he got dressed, throwing on his black hoodie and tucking his gun in his waistband. And there they were, a young couple in a bakery just meeting.

Jack's brain was racing, figuring out the least conspicous way of 'getting rid' of them. Then his phone went off. And Jack's phone never goes off. For a few minutes Jack turned his back on the French couple to check a text from Alex. 'I thought of a title!' Jack almost felt sick about the smile that automatically made its way onto his face. But one thing he was definitely feeling sick about, was the crime he was about to commit. Trying to push it from his mind, Jack quickly replied, asking what it was.

He then turned his attention back to the French couple, leaving the bakery with baguettes and coffee in their hands. And so, Jack followed them with silent footsteps. They turned down a quiet stone road and he began to feel uneasy. He's never had second thoughts -- ever. Lately, Alex has been making him feel like what It's actually like to be human. And he wasn't sure if he loved it or hated it. Maybe both. Jack's phone went off again, catching the attention of the French couple.

"Connard americaín," the girl mumbled. Jack reached in his waistband and pulled out his gun.

"I know French, you pompous bastards," Jack snapped and then pulled the trigger twice. Jack quickly teleported back home and checked the text from Alex.
'Time-Bomb.'

Jack felt the bile rise up in his throat and then he was throwing up his dinner and his guilt all over his bedroom floor.