BAD LUCK: Breaking Inside (Jasper)

[Alanna Darlington]

To say that Alanna was having a bad week was an understatement. 

Her power had been malfunctioning for nearly a week now. Well, technically there was nothing wrong with her power. Apparently, the stress of approaching finals had intensified her side affects. Rest was all she could do. 

So she had rested. Lights off, no noise - nothing that could possibly make her migraine worse. Two days of nothing, lost. It had helped. Enough so that she thought she could fit in a little studying... At which point the implication of missing a whole weekend of potential studying had caught up to her. Sure enough, the resulting stress insured that she spent the next day in dark silence, praying for an end to the pain. At that point she was missing classes which only increased her stress and in turn only increased her suffering. 

The worse the migraines got, the weaker her mental boundaries became. Soon in addition to the crippling pain of the migraines she was overwhelmed by a constant onslaught of thoughts, thoughts that seemed to be screaming at her, each trying to be heard until they all faded into a horrific cacophony. 

She hadn't left her room for a straight week now, and though she tried to rest, she couldn't fight the rising panic she felt. It was a never-ending cycle. The worse the pain, the more she stressed. The worse she stressed, the more she suffered. 

Alanna was completely disconnected from the world at this point. A voice could scarcely be heard above the dozens of thoughts that crowded her mind. Any light was blinding and set off a flash of pain in her skull that felt unbearable, even the light of a phone screen was too much for her. Which meant that all her time was spent either in a restless sleep or in an inescapable wallowing. Sometimes her own thoughts came enough to the forefront that she could truly appreciate her misery - reflecting on the impossibility of her power. 

How did she manage to convince herself she could ever live with this power, let alone earn the semblence of a normal life at that? She was a freak. She belonged in a padded cell, locked away from society. 

After this experience though, Alanna knew even that sort of forced isolation would bring her no relief. 

It would never be enough. Nothing would ever be enough to save her from this torture. 

Those darkest moments were the ones where she cried, too overwhelmed by everything to restrain herself or to worry about who might hear. 

But every now and again a rare moment of peace was found. Well, peace was the wrong word for it really. The pain was still very much there, more intense than ever in fact. The voices were there too, the thoughts of others swallowing her own until she had nothing left. But that sort of agony made one numb, for a time at least. A time that all too often proved to be far too short. 

For the moment though, she embraced the reprieve, too exhausted to feel panicked or worried or even hopeless. For a brief moment, she was able to simply exist, shrouded in the pain that seemed to constantly threaten to destroy her from within. 

In this moment, she could ask for nothing more. 

[Jasper Blackwater]

Jasper Blackwater was worried.

He was good at worrying—he knew a lot of people about whom he could worry, and he’d had a lot of practice. Even with all that experience under his belt, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in uncharted territory. He could handle a few days of plain, old fashioned worrying; it was the undercurrent of hurt that was throwing him off.

He’d only known Alanna Darlington for a few months, but he’d been under the impression that they’d become good friends. They’d met several times, on and off campus, and each meeting had been more fun than the last. He was loud, and she was shy, but all of their conversations had seemed effortless. They’d had vibrant discussions via text at all hours. They’d really, truly gotten along.

He unlocked his iPhone—a refurbished 3GS that he’d gotten for cheap—and checked his messages. There weren’t any; he stared down at his conversation with Alanna, which consisted of a wall of his own lonely words, and sighed.

Jasper could easily forgive a day’s worth of silence. One day wasn’t all that much, in the scheme of things; one day was sorry, I was busy or oh gosh, it totally slipped my mind. Some people talked less than others, and needed more time to recharge. Alanna, sweet and soft-spoken and introverted, was surely one of those people.

He’d missed her, but he’d understood.

His thumb hovered over the on-screen keyboard, and for a moment, it looked like he might type. After a pause, he reached up and pressed the lock button, instead.

A week.

What sort of meaning was he supposed to take away from a week’s worth of silent days?

He laid his phone screen-up on his chest and stared dolefully at his dorm room ceiling. His dislike of conflict had left him torn; what did normal people do in this sort of situation? It wasn’t as though they’d had any sort of agreement. She wasn’t obligated to talk to him. Still, the thought that she was avoiding him was painful. They were two dorm rooms and a hallway apart—it wasn’t like he was going to disappear.

He shifted, and his gaze fell from the ceiling to the wall. Two dorm rooms and a hallway—it wasn’t that far. He wondered if she was there, now. He wondered if he should check.

The springs of the twin mattress underneath him creaked under his weight as he wiggled into a sitting position. His phone slid harmlessly off of his chest and into his open, waiting hand. A few more moments passed in silent thought before he finally pulled himself to his feet.

He didn’t spend a lot of time in anyone’s dorm other than Killian’s, although he knew everyone on the floor by either name or face, and had never had much trouble finding anybody. In his self-consciousness, even this fact had a negative connotation: if he knew that Alanna lived in room 206, and that her door was the second one on the right, did that make him creepy? Clingy? Did that imply that he had a spark of interest in her that was, perhaps, not strictly platonic?

And, more importantly, if it did—imply that spark, that is—would that be wrong of him?

The door to the common area of room 206 was ajar when he reached it, and he nudged it open gingerly, as though opening a door was a punishable offense. He looked around; there was no one in sight. His head felt a little fuzzy. He closed the door behind him, and it latched with a delicate snap.

For better or worse, he knocked thrice on the second door on the right.

[Alanna Darlington]

The pain had reached a steady sort of throb that while still miserable, was a more tolerable sort of misery. It lacked the sharpness that came with sound and light. The voices still echoed in her mind, a dull roar. Usually her mental shields helped to at least limit the range of her ability, but with this stretch of stress, she had no barriers at all left to protect her. Every thought in the dorm, even from floors above and below flooded her mind. Enough that she couldn't recognize anyone's voice. It blended together, stealing her own thoughts away into the din.

She didn't know how long she had simply laid there in this state, but three hard knocks at her door jolted her into the moment with a sharp rush of pain. She groaned in her suffering, the initial catalyst escaping her senses for a moment. "Someone there?" she croaked, surprised more than anything. Her voice was rough from such a long silence. Almost instantly though, she cried out, her voice thick with pain and sounding on the brink of tears, "Go away!"

[Jasper Blackwater]

Jasper had experienced the pain of many migraines over the years, one or two of which had actually originated in his own head. It was different in everyone: it could pulse, or sear, or tingle; it could be on the left side or the right side or in the front or the back; it could annoy or incapacitate, and occasionally did both. Indeed, the feeling was so familiar that it didn’t register at all until a jolt of pain came crashing through the carefully constructed barrier around his senses. Sharp pains often did. This one in particular had all the subtlety of an ice pick to the ear canal.

He exhaled in the form of a slow, pained hiss. Alanna’s voice, which was at once ragged and soft, was barely audible above it. Still, there had been no mistake. Go away, she’d said. It sounded like she’d been crying.

His hand slid until it came to rest on the cold metal of the doorknob, which rattled briefly under the weight of his fingers but did not turn. He stared blankly at the white-painted wood grain of the opposite side of her bedroom door.

If she wants you to go away, you should go away.

Obvious, perhaps, but wholly necessary. Just because he knew that she was in pain didn’t mean that he had the right to barge into her room without her permission. People made all sorts of decisions for all sorts of reasons. He was not the telepath here.

Still, his hand had not moved. The center of his chest was tight with hurt. His normally cheer-bright brown eyes had clouded over.

I just wanted to see if she was okay. She didn’t have to yell.

His thoughts had shifted into defensive territory; paired with his chronic lack of confidence, her dismissal had cut to the quick. His fingers clenched and unclenched around the doorknob. After a moment, his hand fell back to his side, apparently decided.

If she wants you to go away, you should go away.

He sniffed into the back of his hand and shifted his weight, as though to turn.

[Alanna Darlington]

Alanna was lost in the whelm of thoughts that were overcrowding her mind. She just wished they would all go away. It was torture with no end in sight and she was terrified that she might finally be going insane. That's what it felt like at least.

But then something happened that she could only call a miracle.

A single voice broke through the noise.

I just wanted to see if she was okay. She didn’t have to yell.

"Jasper?" she called out, a desperate sort of hope thick in her voice, intermingled with her surprise. Just thinking of Jasper gave her a hint of relief, if only for a moment. Had he really come to see her? Somehow his presence had helped give her thoughts a focus beyond the pain.

If she wants you to go away, you should go away.

A sort of panic washed over her then. "No!" She hesitated, only slightly. She didn't want him to see her like this... What would he think of her? Would he think she was crazy? Would he not want to spend time with her anymore? But one thought was more pressing than all those concerns. It wouldn't matter if she couldn't get through this. "Come back," she said, her voice a whimper almost as she drew herself upright, curling her legs into her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them even as another wave of pain crashed over her.

"Please, I don't want to be alone," she managed to say. It was a strange paradox really, how she could feel both overcrowded and isolated all at once, yet that was the only way she could fathom to describe her situation. She didn't really understand why, but just knowing Jasper was nearby offered some relief, and she couldn't think to turn that - to turn him - away.

[Jasper Blackwater]

Jasper could still feel Alanna’s pain; his limbs felt heavy, and he hadn’t yet managed to tear himself far enough away from her door to escape it. He tried to shut it out and found that he felt guilty for forcing her to bear it alone.

But....

Jasper?

Her voice, muffled and spectral, sent hope crackling through him like an electric current. Within moments, his hand was on the doorknob again.

“Alanna?” he said.

A torturous, heavy silence. And then:

Come back. Please, I don’t want to be alone.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m gonna open the door, okay?”

He did, and then he shut it behind him quickly, to squelch the wedge of fluorescent light that had spilled into the dark beyond. The shift in atmosphere was jarring and immediate. He blinked rapidly, trying to stave off the growing discomfort in his head. Through the borrowed mental fog, he found Alanna: pajama-clad, mussed, and makeupless, sitting in the center of her bed with her knees hugged to her chest.

He did not ask her if she was okay. Instead, he sat on the edge of her mattress. The springs creaked, and the disturbance caused her to bob a little. There was a moment of pause.

“Hey,” he said, again. His voice was whisper-soft.

He held his arm out and turned his upper body toward her, leaving his chest accessible for her to lean on.

[Alanna Darlington]

For a moment, she feared she had spoken too late - that he had already left. Amid this sort of pain and confusion, time meant little, and she could scarcely distinguish a minute from an hour. But then he said her name - though she wasn't sure if she was hearing with her ears or her mind at this point - and her heart swelled with relief and hope, enough so that it nearly broke through the numbness her pain had created within her.

Any other time, she would have remained silent, too self conscious to allow him - anyone - to see her like this. She might have worried more what he would think of her after this. As it was, that thought was fleeting, too quickly overshadowed by that desperate need to reach out to find something - anything - to hold on to. In this case, that was someone; that was Jasper. She didn't know if he could actually do anything to help - honestly, she doubted he could - but she also knew that this was the closest to in control she had felt since this whole mess had begun.

Alanna heard his warning, just in time to tightly squeeze her eyes shut and turn her head away from the door. The small jolt of pain that came from the movement was far less than what the light of the opening door might have caused. It wasn't until she heard the bed creak and felt his presence next to her that Alanna relaxed enough to hesitantly open her eyes again. The room was dark, yet she had been in the darkness long enough that she could faintly make out the outline of him.

His voice was soft, and in that moment she was grateful that there were no questions that followed that gentle greeting. He didn't ask if she was okay - after all, it was pretty obvious that she was not - and he didn't ask what was wrong. He was just there. That gave her more relief than anything.

"Hey," she replied, her voice hoarse and cracking still.

Jasper held out his arm, turning towards her, and, for once in her life, she didn't hesitate. The troubled telepath fell forward then, pressing her head against his chest even as her arms wrapped around him as though she might be able to hold tightly enough to him to somehow escape this private hell of hers.

Her eyes scrunched tightly shut as a wave of emotion finally broke free and enveloped her. She was trembling terribly, which was truly little surprise given the strain she had been under these last days and the intensity of all she was feeling. Tears slowly began to build up in her eyes, surprising her, for she thought she had run out by now. After a long moment of silence - aside from the sniffling that accompanied her tears - she spoke once more.

"I'm sorry, Jas."

[Jasper Blackwater]

For several moments, Jasper was quiet. It was a patient quiet—open arms, steady breathing—that had witnessed countless skinned knees and bad dreams. He let her hold him. It was a tight hug, but he didn’t mind; he closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of her fingertips pressing into the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

He’d needed it, too.

“I should have come earlier,” he said, an indirect dismissal of her apology. “I just thought you were too busy to talk to me.”

He huffed out a small sigh that was equal parts guilt and relief. With one broad, strong hand, he rubbed between her shoulder blades. She felt fragile, like a glass ornament caught in an earthquake.

He held her for a while before speaking again.

“What do you need?”

Somewhere deep inside of him, where he kept his selfish, wishful thinking locked tightly away, he wanted her to say that he was enough: that his presence, his comfort, his attention was enough. He wanted to be that for her.

He knew that he couldn’t be, but it didn’t stop him from wanting it.

“Cheesecake?” he prompted, after a pause. “Aspirin? I had a few seasons of Saved by the Bell on DVD, but Killian’s borrowing them. I’ll go beat him up and get them back, if you want.”

He pulled back, just a little, to flash her a small, dimpled smile.

[Alanna Darlington]

I should have come earlier.

Alanna wanted to protest, to say that wasn't what she had meant. That she was sorry he had to see her like this. She was sorry he had to deal with her mess at all. He deserved better. After all, she would only drag him down with her. Surely he had enough going on in his own life that he didn't need to be burdened with all her issues too.

But she didn't say any of that.

It was selfish really. She knew she didn't deserve his comfort, not after she had made him feel so terribly. Not considering who she was. But... she couldn't bear to even try to push him away. Not now when his presence was the only thing holding her together.

"I'm still sorry," she murmured. After all, she hated that she had ever made him think she didn't want to talk to him. That couldn't be further from the truth after all. Usually talking to Jas was the highlight of her day actually.

His hand gently rubbed her back and she released a small sigh as she relaxed into his embrace even more. Her breathing began to slow and for a moment, she almost felt okay again.

You know, aside from the massive throbbing headache of doom.

What do you need?

Alanna worried her lip for a moment as she considered his question. What did she need? Did she even know the answer?

It wasn't until he began prompting her that she spoke. "Honestly? I just feel better now that you're here," she admitted softly. "It's the first time I've been able to think clearly in... I don't even know how long."

"I... don't know if aspirin will help or not... but it probably can't hurt either," she said after a moment's pondering. "They said that stress is what's causing it... but then trying to relax just ends up being even more stressful. I don't even want to think about how far behind I must be with classes right now..." She groaned softly as that thought caused another brief flare of pain.

After a moment's silence, she finally dared to glance up at Jas. A small smile tugged at her lips. He had already helped more than he could likely ever know, and she would be eternally grateful for that.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.