Jack knew his temper was unbelievably out of control lately, but he just couldn't help himself. At every little thing, he blew up at, and the citizens, some Jack had physically hurt, had not spoken to him since, in fear for their own well-being. The only people that were talking to him were Sally, the witches, and the Mayor. Even through Jack had struck the Mayor, he had apologized, and since they had been friends for so long, the Mayor graciously accepted, yet he was still very careful around Jack.
Ever since he had worn the suit to the meeting with the Mayor about the pumpkins, Jack felt the addiction to wear the suit as much as possible; its powerful feeling was now like his own personal drug and was very, very hard to resist wearing it to feel its power coursing through his bones. Every evening when he went to bed, as he dressed in his nightclothes, he felt disappointed when he took his suit off; but, when he woke up, he knew what would be awaiting him.
It was now in the middle of September; they were in the smack-dab in the center of their Halloween preparation crisis; everyone was bustling around, knowing Halloween was just a few short weeks away. Jack could hear everyone outside from his bedroom.
Jack had woken up that morning feeling horrible; he had a high temperature reading, his joints ached, and he got extremely dizzy whenever he even stood. Sally had graciously passed the news around so he could stay home and rest instead of stressing over Halloween preperations.
Lying in bed, Jack was weakly holding one of his favorite novels from the Human World, "
To Kill a Mockingbird". His eyelids were slipping as he read the elegant pages. He felt so exhausted, so tired, but so helpless that he couldn't help with Halloween that he could hardly read the book without his mind wandering. Groaning with pain and deep frustration, he threw the book as hard as he could against the wall; it slapped against the wall and fell limply to the floor. Sighing in anger, he rubbed his eyelids carefully; his hands were like cold ice to his face, his temperature was so high.
Getting an inspiration to take a shower (he felt disgustingly dirty), Jack threw the covers off him, and sat up slowly, not trying to activate any sudden dizziness. Standing up at a snail's pace, he walked in a hunched, weak way to the bathrom, entered, and shut the door behind himself. He pulled off his clothes and turned the water on, not making it too warm. after a few moments, he entered the shower and inhaled deeply at the relief and relaxing touch the cool water had.
Jack stayed put in the shower for a long time, thinking about nothing, just the water on his aching bones. The shower was soothing, but Jack began to feel dizzy after a long time. He carefully stepped out of the shower, turned off the water, and reached for the towel on his counter. Securely around his waist, Jack turned around to face the mirror. What he saw shocked him.
As he looked on, Jack found that not only was he exhausted looking in his face and posture, but his bones, which were normally pearly white, and turned, in certain spots, dark black. Jack was thoroughly startled, and he just stared at himself for a while. The black spots did not fade. Jack wondered if this was a trick in the mirror...or some hallucination from his sickness. He looked down to the black parts of his bones; his upper arms, and a few parts of his ribcage had turned black, and it looked like some kind of poison that was spreading through his bones. Slowly, Jack reached up his right hand and touched his left upper arm. It seemed like his normal bone, it was just...tinted black. All of it was a strange sight, and Jack glared at himself in the mirror, trying to clear his head. after long moments of gazing, Jack gave up and picked out a black t-shirt, and black, baggy pants. Fully dressed, Jack headed out of the steam-filled bathroom. When he opened the door, steam blazed out of the room, and at first, Jack couldn't see anything; when the steam cleared, jack could see Sally, home from Dr. Finklestein's, dressing into her nightclothes smoothly. Jack grinned dazily. Sally whipped around, and just smiled, but her eyes didn't seem so happy; she seemed genuinely concerned about him.
"How are you feeling?" Sally asked tenderly, finishing getting dressed.
Jack didn't answer; he just carried himself carefully to the bed and crashed onto it, his head spinning from standing for so long. Sally sighed unhappily, a grim smile in place. She lied down on the bed, scooting close to him. He wanted to push her away; he didn't want her to get sick, but he was too weak to do anything, so he let her hold him.
"That bad, huh? I'm so sorry, Jack." Her voice was soft and velvety.
" 's alright," Jack mumbled, startled at how faint and hoarse his voice was. "It's not your fault." Jack decided to himself not to tell Sally about his...discovery, in a way. He would simply not mention it, and it would all be all right. "What time's it?"
"Nearly midnight. You were in the shower a long time, I thought you'd passed out."
Jack chuckled quietly.
Sally inched closer, their bodies almost touching. "Are you sure you're alright, Jack? You seem so sick, I hate leaving you alone all day."
Jack shook his head, his heck screaming in protest from ache. "You just help the Doctor, Sally, I'll be okay for the next few days."
Sally turned to her side, frowning. "Jack, I'm worried. You're unbelievably sick."
Jack didn't say anything. The room echoed a silence that run in Jack's head over and over again. Sally, not speaking, either, turned to him and turned his head very, very gently to her face; her eyes were stone hard, but still loving, as she leaned in, and Jack realized what she was going to do.
"Stop," Jack groaned. "Please, don't." Sally stopped, surprised, inches from his.
"What's wrong?"
"Please," Jack repeated, "I don't want you to get this sick. I don't think I could bear it."
Sally's eyes melted as he looked into her face. With her stern look gone, all that was left was a blank, contemplating face. He stared back, guessing what she was going to do, and knowing that he was probably right.
He was; she leaned in and, with the gentlest pressure yet, pressed her soft lips to his.
She didn't seem to care what she was putting herself at risk to, she just wanted to comfort him and make sure he was all right. He was not, in fact, all right. He was in genuine pain, his bones aching all over, and all the other signs of sickness twisting itself into his torture somehow. but after a while of Sally so close to him, his wish of no contact at all was blown from his mind at once. She stayed very gentle at first, but then her kiss grew into more than just a caring whim. Jack continued for a while, but then stopped, knowing what he was doing, and pushed himself away from her. Her face showed nothing but love. He sighed, and spoke:
"I'm sorry, but I'm just too sick right now."
She looked into his face, and she accepted it. she smiled a small, sad smile, flipped to her other side, and despite what Jack said, cuddled up to him closely. Jack smirked himself, not finding any harm in that. He wrapped his long arm around her, showing her his love and care. She turned her head and kissed his hand. He stroked her soft hair gently until they both fell asleep in each other's arms.
-------------------------
Woot, yeah! ^^ Just to let you know, "To Kill a Mockingbird" is the book I'm reading in school. ^^ Okay, and also, I have to apologize for how long these chappys take to load, and how far apart they are from each other. I've just been really busy lately, so yeah. The story's coming along, so yeah. Hope you're enjoying it, and I'll post the next chappy as soon as possible. Thanks.
