Love and Death

It was only about two weeks later that Jack had—rather stupidly—gotten Alex another dog. She looked exactly like Prada did, but she was a bit smaller due to still being only four months old. She’d even been brought down to the vet beforehand so that Jack knew nothing was wrong with her. As it turns out, Prada had some sort of heart disease that Jack couldn't remember the name of right after he’d heard it, and a stroke had been the cause of her death. When he was satisfied that the new pup was as healthy as could be, he brought her home.

Alex, of course, had cried when he’d seen her, and he’d steadfastly refused to keep her. He couldn't put himself through any kind of pain so soon after his last loss. Then she yawned.

“Okay, okay, put her down,” he’d demanded as a shaky smile slipped onto his tear-soaked face. He’d dropped to his knees as the puppy ran forward on wobbly legs, tongue hanging from her mouth and tail wagging a mile a minute. “Hi there,” he cooed, reaching out to pick her up as Sebastian and Peyton stepped closer to get a better look. “What’s your name, huh?”

“S’up to you, baby,” Jack answered, shoving his hands in his pockets and smiling at the scene. Alex, though he was still letting a few tears drop, couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he lifted the dog up to be eye-level with him. When her tongue darted out to lick a stripe up his cheek, he even laughed.

“I think you’d be a cute Roxy. Do you like Roxy?” She barked once, a high-pitched yip of a noise, and he’d laughed again, bringing her in to cradle her against his chest like the baby she was.

It took weeks of training before she was fully house-trained, and day-by-day, Alex’s broken heart was slowly mended back together. He didn't forget about Prada, not at all, but having a distraction made the pain hurt a lot less.

Two months later and it was coming up on the anniversary of Alex’s first loss—Marley. He’d seen that the movie, which was put in theaters not long after he’d read the book (which Jack wouldn't let him see for obvious reasons), was going to be on TV, and he’d somehow convinced the younger to watch it with him. That’s how both men and the three dogs ended up on the couch, all five of them managing to curl into one big ball as the film played on screen.

Alex knew. He knew that Marley was going to be put down soon, and the tears started to prick in his eyes at the fact that he was going to actually have to see it. He didn't want to change it, though, so he did his best to remain quiet. Jack sat in an ignorant sort of bliss, only half paying attention to what was happening on screen… and then his eyes focused on the exterior of the vet’s office flashing across the screen.

“Alex,” Jack whimpered, and all Alex could do was nod in understanding. “Alex, what’re they doing? They’re gonna fix him, right?”

At that point, neither of them wanted to watch anymore… but they couldn't look away, no matter how hard they tried. Jack’s arms subconsciously hooked around Peyton on his left, and he dragged the big dog into his lap as his heart cracked in his chest.

“He won’t feel this,” the vet onscreen assured, and as soon as John agreed that they were both ready, a sob ripped through the air. Alex looked over to Jack through his own blurred vision to see his boyfriend full-on crying, his face pressed into the pit bull’s fur. Really, he didn't see a reason to hold himself back anymore after that.

As their cries mixed together, blocking out the sounds of the movie, Jack risked a glance over, quickly taking notice of the fact that both Roxy and Sebastian were being held against the elder’s chest as he wept freely.

“I told you, I fucking told you,” Alex choked out around a cough, and Jack gently nudged Peyton away so that he could turn and reach out to pull his boyfriend’s arms from the two smaller dogs to place them around his own frame. Alex relentlessly repeated those same words as he buried his face in the younger’s neck, Jack mimicking the gesture. Long after the credits had started to roll, they were still holding each other through their hysterics.

That night, both men fell asleep on the couch with their dogs, too exhausted from their breakdowns to walk the ten steps to their bed or turn off the TV, which continued to softly play reruns of the highly-destructive film.