Status: In Progress! Updates weekly!

Endlessly

Hell And Back.

Wednesday.

Alex's first conscious thought when he comes around is where the hell am I? He's in a bed much more spacious than his own - he'd guess it was a king size against his single - and room that's probably bigger than his entire house. The second message his brain sends is that he's laying on his stomach and his back is in just as much pain as it had been before he passed out. He wants to cry out, but figures it would probably be better for him to get his bearings before calling on whoever - or whatever - is nearest in the vicinity. Where's Jack? Did he leave Alex here to die? From the pain he's in, that doesn't seem like a far fetched idea; although if that's so, his deathbed doesn't seem so bad. Has he been drugged? No, he's lucid - well, as much as he can be given the situation.

He lifts his head and tries to look around the room, searching for weapons and any means of escape. His range of motion is limited, but he's able to see about half of the room. It's white, but he can see some off-white patterns at what would be eye level if he were standing. Posters half-heartedly try to cover some, but there's no guessing what they are: patchwork from wall repairs. Suddenly Alex's heart stutters. Whoever's room he's in seems to have a bit of an anger problem. Trying to ignore it, he looks at the messy black desk. It's rather large, holding three desktop screens and a Macbook Pro. Besides the closed door which he assumes leads to the rest of the house, Alex can see two other doors hanging halfway open. One is a rather large walk-in closet and the other is a bathroom. He can only see the bathtub from his position, but he would rather call it a jacuzzi, since that's how big it is.

So, the person is angry and rich.

His back is still radiating with pain, so in an attempt to survey the damage, he tries to position his head so that he can see even a little bit of his back. What did he even do to himself? No hurt he's ever felt has come close to this utter agony. After a few minutes, he's in one of the most awkward - but surprisingly not painful - positions he's ever found himself in, but he's succeeded in his task. What comes into his view almost makes him pass out all over again.

Two rather large looking bumps are protruding from either side of his spine.

Alex's 'stay quiet' rule goes out the window when one of the bumps flinch, making him see dark spots. He screams for his mom, hoping in vain that somehow she can hear him. It's an instinct reaction, and it works. Multiple pairs of footsteps come closer and closer until the only closed door flies open.

It's Jack, not his mother, that's the first one in the room, but both of Alex's parents follow closely behind. He barely even takes notice of the other two adults who come in behind them, too busy whimpering for his mother and trying to calm down. Isobel falls to her knees beside the bed and wipes the sweaty hair away from her son's forehead. Jack sits right beside her. "W-What's happening? Where am I? Who are they?" Alex cries.

"Shh, you're in Jack's room, sweetie. He brought you here and we didn't want to move you in this condition." Isobel coos. "The other two people are Jack's parents, Joyce and Bassam." She hasn't spoken to Alex in this way since he was seven, and although he feels that he should be embarrassed, he has much bigger worries on his mind.

"Condition?" He squeaks.

"You're getting your wings, Alex." His father says. Alex hadn't noticed his attire of a white lab coat and heavy medical bag until now.

If he had been scared before, he's terrified now.

Even though Alex is half angel, all of his life he's been told he'll never get his wings. Normal angels get them around age 13 or 14, but here he is, almost 20 years old, and they're only just showing up. Nothing makes sense. Why is this happening? Is there some rule change he's unaware of? "I...what?" He asks.

"This is Their plan, son." His father, Peter, rubs Alex's lower back, trying to ease some of the pressure.

"But you said-"

"We didn't have the same information as we do now. Look, I know you're very confused right now; you have every right to be. But we can talk about this once we get your wings out. If we don't do it soon, they'll expand too much and start breaking bones and puncturing organs."

Now Alex is horrified. He hasn't gone through it yet, but he's helped his father enough times freeing angel wings. He knows enough. It's painful and stressful, the hardest thing to go through in life even for a full angel. Alex has Grace in him, but not nearly enough to act as the same anesthetic that naturally occurs in regular angels. However, it's too late to take any medicine. "Okay, just get it over with." Alex whimpers finally.

Peter nods. "Alright, I need everyone except Jack to clear out." This brings another fear to the forefront of his mind.

"Wait, doesn't Jack have to be dead now? He-He knows! Why do you want him to stay? So you can make sure the job gets done?" He asks in a panic. He flinches in pain from the sudden movement, but the only thing he can think about is that Jack will die because of him.

"Whoa, Angel, chill." Jack says, moving to where Isobel had been and rubbing Alex's hair in the same way she had. "It'll take more than a lightning bolt to knock me out. I'm a demon. Well, half-demon, at least. We're the first of our kind, and the only reason we're getting wings is because the big guy in the sky's got plans for us. But like your dad said, we don't need you getting hurt anymore right now, so we can talk all about it once you're okay."

Alex is shaking his head before Jack finishes talking. "You can't be a demon. Wouldn't we be dead if you were? I mean, we touched, and we...did other stuff." He knows his father can probably tell what happened between the two, but he can't bring himself to say that he gave a demon a handjob. Demons and angels are never supposed to touch; it's in their design. If they touch, they die. It's as simple as that. Even being around one another for an extended period of time can cause disastrous consequences.

"Nope. You aren't a full angel, and I'm not a full demon. And you know something like that wouldn't get in the way of Their plan, anyway."

"Oh." Alex couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment. This was too much, and he could barely think over the pain to start with.

"Jack, you might want to get some towels and change into clothes you don't care about. This could get a little...messy." Peter says.

"Yeah, yeah, just because I don't have them yet doesn't mean I don't know what wing freeing entails. We've got maids to clean up after us. Just do it." Jack replies, not taking his eyes off of Alex, who is just getting more scared by the second. "It's going to be fine, Angel. You aren't going to die and it will be all over in half an hour." He tries to comfort, but that's never been his specialty(mostly because for crying out loud, what kind of demon does comforting?). "I know I'm probably not your first choice, but I'm stuck in here with you."

"Stuck?" Alex asks curiously, eyes narrowing.

"Alright, Alex." His dad cuts off the conversation before it can escalate. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to cut into your back and pull out your wings. The skin should form itself around them and start to heal in a few hours. Jack will be in charge of cleaning them after, per God's request." The first cleaning of an angel's wings is special and intimate. It's something that's rarely done by anyone other than the angel's mother or closest family member. A deep connection is required between the cleaner and the angel, something that can absolutely not be found between the boys. They haven't even known one another for half a week; what kind of game is their Maker playing at? "You need to stay very still, now. I'm going to start. Try and relax."

Jack grabs Alex's hands and holds them between his. "You have to stay awake for this, so try not to pass out again." He winks, causing Alex's blush.

"Shut up."

Alex jumps when his father's cool hands first touch his skin. His whips his head around as if seeing this will make things easier. "Oh, no." Jack says, pulling Alex's head back his way. "You should keep your eyes on me. You know you don't want to watch this."

Alex begins to grumble his protest of a weak ‘don't tell me what to do’ when his father places a sharp blade against the skin covering the painful growth. Now Alex is thankful for Jack's hands - they're something to hold onto while his father makes the first (and arguably most painful) incision. He can't stop the groan of pain that accompanies the blood spreading across his smooth, pale back.

Peter doesn't say a word while opening his son's skin, focused solely on the task at hand. Jack, on the other hand, won't shut up. With the amount of pain he's in, it's surprising that Alex is able to listen to Jack rather intensely for the most part, who goes on and on about random subjects, mostly music and parties. He stays away from anything of importance because at this point, Alex may be just a little bit delirious. It's nearing a day since he last slept and discomfort does strange things to the human body, especially when it's this intense.

After a few minutes, the pressure of his father's hands disappears from his back. He hears Peter cleaning up materials and he remembers the freeings he's watched before to be much longer and more gruesome than this ten minute surgery. "Is that it? I thought it was going to be way worse." Alex starts to sit up, but at the same time Jack and Peter pin him down.

"Whoa, there, buddy. We aren't done quite yet." Peter says, softly pushing him back into position.

"That was the easy part. He hasn't taken them out yet." Jack chuckles. Alex doesn't need to see his father to tell that he's currently glaring at the demon.

The whimper that leaves Alex's parted lips leaves Jack's humor dead in its tracks. "Hey, remember what I said? 20 minutes, and then it's all over. Just keep looking at me and squeeze my hands when it hurts. Don't worry about holding your screams in; I've never seen one of these where the person didn't cry out, okay? You're going to be alright. No one dies from this, so it can be that bad, right?"

Alex doesn't answer before his father gets his hands around one of Alex's wings. "Stay very still, Alex. You might want to bite a pillow." Jack places a pillow in front of Alex's mouth, but he doesn't put his mouth on it until the pulling starts.

The sounds are squishy, yet there's the distinct undertones of cracking bones. Jack makes the mistake of looking past Alex's head and he's instantly glad the boy's face is buried in his pillow so he doesn't see Jack's shock.

His father is absolutely covered in blood. Of all the wing freeings he's seen, this one has to be the messiest, and it's barely even started yet. And then there was Alex's back.

There's no way his body can bend like that unless his spine is broken.

Tortured screams are the soundtrack of the three's lives for the next 30 minutes. Tears stream down Alex's face and he can't stop them. The agony overwhelms him, and Jack is surprised his hands aren't broken due to the death grip Alex has around them. The longer the surgery continues, the more confused Jack becomes. He should be enjoying this, he believes. He lives for this type of misery, this type of torment. He's caught in the middle of the distress he's meant to cause.

So why does it make him so uncomfortable? Why is this sobbing boy in his bed making him want to take the pain away?

Jack's not really sure if Alex is hearing any of his attempts at calming him, but it makes Jack feel better, so he keeps at it until a towel-covered hand finds his back. He turns to see Peter watching him with tired eyes. Alex has yet to stop sobbing. "I've finished. He should be totally healed by tomorrow morning. All of my tools are in your bathroom right now, and I brought you a bucket of water and a washcloth for Alex's wings. Once you finish cleaning him, I suggest you try and get some rest. Your wings will probably start coming in in the next few hours, and it will probably be even harder for you than it was him." Demons in general always have a harder time with getting their wings than angels. This is simply because demons lack Grace, and if Alex's wing-freeing is any indication of how humanity affects the process, Jack realizes he may be in for the most complicated tribulation of any supernatural creature in existence.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." Jack groans to himself.

Peter shrugs; there's nothing either of them can do about this. If there was, he would be anywhere but here, in this(literal) hell house. "I'll leave my phone number here. If anything worrisome happens, give me a ring."

"You're not staying?"

"Jack, you know how intimate the first cleaning is. God, They want you two to be alone for it." He looks uncomfortable, Jack decides. "I wouldn't leave if I had the choice. No offense, but I'm not exactly happy to leave my son in your hands while he's in this state." Jack nods, but says nothing. Anger boils in his chest that he can't be trusted with his Angel. He hasn't hurt him thus far, has he? “Anyways, the first sign of your wings coming in should be nausea. You’ll probably get some back pains much like Alex did. If I’m not back by the time that starts happening, call.”

“Are you freeing my wings too?” Jack looks at him incredulously.

Peter nods, trying to keep the disdain off his face. It’s nothing personal, really, but can anyone really blame an angel not wanting to touch a demon? It shouldn’t even be possible. The Doctor can’t help but feel a little squeamish at even the thought of touching Jack for an extended period of time. “You’re not a full demon, so it isn’t fatal for me to touch you. Just like your parents, or any other demons, could touch Alex. You two are very vulnerable, especially right now. That’s why we need to keep this under the radar as much as possible. It’s also why God insisted on me performing the surgeries in your soundproof room. We don’t need snoops, supernatural or otherwise.” Jack hates being in the dark about knowledge, and he’s sure that if it wouldn’t get him permanently destroyed, he’d be bitching out both God and Satan at the moment.

By the time Peter is gone and Jack has a bucket of warm water at his side and one of the softest rags known to mankind in his hand, Alex's cries have nearly stopped. He has yet to speak, though, so Jack breaks the silence for them. "Alex? Is it okay if I touch your wings?" The boy barely nods, but it's enough for Jack.

Even covered in the blood and gore, Jack can't deny the beauty of the angel's monstrous-sized wings. Once they're cleaned and healed, they'll be pure white. The feathers are large and strong, but they appear to be fragile as glass. Even though this isn't the first time he's touched wings, it still makes him nervous. The enormity of the task bestowed upon him is sinking in. Why him? He doesn't know Alex; all he knows about the angel is, well, he's an angel.

An angel that's somehow really good at handjobs.

He tries not to think too much about the task as he dips the rag into the water, thoroughly wetting it and wringing it out. For a demon, Jack's rather squeamish when it comes to touching blood. In fact, he ends up having to close his eyes as he touches Alex's right wing for the first time.

The moan emitting from Alex has Jack jerking back like he touched fire. "Did that hurt?" Jack asks hesitantly. How is he supposed to clean Alex if he's crying out in pain the whole time?

"No, m'fine. It actually feels really good. Please, continue."

"Right." Jack nods, reassuring himself before going back in.

It doesn't take long for Jack to see that this process is a lot harder than he thought it would be. He has to clean every individual feather, which just becomes harder with time as the blood dries. Within an hour, Jack is only about halfway done with the first wing and has had to change the water in the bucket seven times. When Jack comes back from the bathroom for the eighth time, Alex sighs. "Okay, I was trying to wait until later to ask, but I can't. Are you going to explain this all to me? Like how you're a fucking demon and why you're trying to seduce me? And how everyone except me seems to think this is all totally normal? And why I suddenly have wings even though I've been told my entire life I would never get them? And don't even try to tell me 'it's a long story' because you and I both know we've got more than enough time. So start talking." Neither of them realized how desperate he was for answers until his voice escalated throughout his speech.

"I don't even know how to start."

"How about you start with how you knew I was an angel and you didn't think it would be important to tell me of your supernatural status?" Alex huffs. Immediately after he wants to apologize for his attitude, but Jack's speaking before he can open his weary mouth again.

"God. They came to me, as well as our parents, in a dream."

"Why not me? How does that even work? I thought God was cut off from the demons." Alex cuts in.

"Well, you could say that Satan and God are kind of working together in this. Don't ask me why, I really don't know. All I care about is that the two most powerful beings in the universe are on my ass, and I'd rather not let either of them down. That's also why I didn't tell you I'm part demon. Both of them thought it would be better if you didn't know until after we bonded a bit. They knew you would react like this."

"If I had been let in the loop I wouldn't have reacted like this." He grumbles into his pillow.

"Bullshit." Jack laughs, imagining the angel pouting into the fabric. "No offense, but you're pretty stubborn. Even if you eventually cooperated, you probably would have put up a fight."

"What, and you didn't?"

"Not really. You're pretty hot, and I knew I could tempt you that night. I never turn down sex."

When Alex speaks again, his voice is fragile, more broken than his back. "So you used me for sex?"

"What? No, I-" Jack stutters.

"You wanted to tempt me. You knew I would feel guilty and you knew I would have to go on a date with you afterwards. This was your plan the whole time!" He starting to squirm around, making it that much harder for Jack to do his job and stay focused on the conversation at hand.

"Listen to me for a second, Alex. And stop moving before I accidentally hurt you."

The boy chooses to ignore the first part, but most of his movement stops. "What, so you can BS your way out of this? I don't want excuses, Jack. You've already told me what you did. I don't need to know anything else."

"We're getting binded!" Jack shouts. The words do their job; Alex is totally silent. For a while, Jack can't even tell if he's breathing. Binding is the supernatural form of marriage. Slightly more intense that the human counterpart, binded beings are soul mates, handpicked by God or Satan, depending on the creature. It would be easier to kill yourself than get separated, or 'divorced'. Just like what he has always been told about his wings, Alex has been warned that he would never be binded because of his humanity. Like full humans, he should have free will in this choice. Yet here he is, having his wings cleaned by the human equivalent of his fiancé.

His demon fiancé.

After taking a few steadying breaths and letting Alex take in everything, Jack continues speaking. "That's what we were told. They said this would be the fastest way to build a connection, and I was not about to deny their joint request. Sorry, Angel, but I bet given the situation you would have done the same thing."

"Don't call me Angel. You don't have that right anymore." Alex snarls, slightly muffled by the cloth but still sharp enough to make Jack want to double over in pain. He's going to be sick. Swallowing bitter saliva, he tries to stay focused.

His focus is unable to last long. Maybe it wasn't Alex's words causing him pain. "Shit," Jack breathes after a few minutes of silence. Alex feels the hands on his wings stop and tremble.

He lifts his head from the pillow and careens so he can kind of see Jack, whose face is contorted as he winces. It could be the way his shirt is falling, but Alex swears he can see two slight bulges swelling on Jack's back. "Welcome to my life." Alex deadpans.

"You're lucky. You're an angel." Jack replies, too focused on his own pain to add malice to his voice.

Alex bites his lip, but dares to speak. Something about Jack seems to give him the inability to keep his mouth shut. "I thought you demons were all into pain and hurt."

Jack hopes Alex doesn't see him rolling his eyes. "I like causing pain, not being in pain."

"Oh, so you're a hypocrite, then?" Alex asks, voice hard. He can feel the hostility building up in his lungs.

"I'm a demon." Jack snaps, grabbing the tender wing hard enough for Alex to scream out. "Fuck, sorry." There's a squeezing in his chest as he apologizes for the first time in years.

Alex refrains from snorting, letting his head fall back to the pillow. "Just get this done with."
♠ ♠ ♠
Thank you guys so much for all of the comments so far! I've been having a really tough time lately and your support honestly makes my week! Have a Valentine's Day gift from me! :)

Title credit to Tonight Alive.