Jack Barakat Imagines

Low Moment

Hi! Can you do a Jack imagine where you live with him (like his girlfriend) and he starts becoming quiet one day and he wears long sleeves all the time and never takes his shirt off and one day you catch him with his shirt off and he's crying because of hate? Since everyone's hating on him so bad right now and saying he harasses people? And it just really gets to him? Thank you!

AN there was only one way i could see this working and that's with baby fetus jack circa 2007 ?? i really hope this doesn't make me sad while i write it ill let you lovely people know once ive finished. I'm halfway through and I'm already sad send help. Wow ok that was a lot to handle @ me are you okay?? @ you guys are you okay???? That was exhausting I hope you enjoy it lovelies thank you so much xx

Warning: self harm mention

Your POV

Straight out of high school, you would have expected Jack to be happy. You would have expected him to enjoy the thought of us living together. After four years of being together, we were finally able to convince his mom to let him move out once we graduated. And here we were, but I got the feeling that Jack didn't want to be with me, well with the way he was acting.

The band's success was kicking off with the release of So Wrong It's Right, and he had just gotten back from tour. I wasn't sure what I was going to do for a job, so in the meantime I just served at a diner. Jack, on the other hand, was home alone while I worked my crazy shifts.

It wasn't until we were about to go to bed at the same time that I noticed something was really off. I had been working late almost every night closing, since the closing shifts always had better hours. This morning I worked lunch so we could finally go to bed together. I noticed that as we were getting ready for bed, Jack would usully be the first to take off his pants and shirt and cuddle next to me like the big spoon he is. This time, he kept on a long sleeved shirt and pants and turned away from me and fell right asleep. I didn't so much as get a goodnight or an I love you.

I had asked him what was wrong, but got no response. I wanted to help, but there was little I could do when he was ignoring me and not talking to me. I asked Alex and Zack and Rian, his closest band mates what they thought, and they all told me that they felt he was the same old happy go lucky Jack. I didn't have the heart to tell them he wasn't anything close to it.

One day I was let off early since a big rush we were expecting never happened. So I went home to look for my Jack to see if he was okay, and if I could help. "Jack!" I called, looking for him, stepping inside our little home. "Jack, I'm home! Where are you?"

I heard Mayday Parade coming from the bathroom, so I followed it. I saw Jack's bare back facing me, heaving over with what I couldn't tell was sobs or laughter. I took it as sobs given the music that was playing. "Jack, are you okay?" It wasn't until now that I realized I hadn't seen Jack without a shirt in what felt like forever. Since he got back really.

"Y/N, you're home," he sniffled, wiping his nose and turning the music off suddenly. He reached for his shirt, but I kept a hand on it.

"Jack, what's going on? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he struggled to tell me, but he sure as hell didn't sound fine, and I wasn't going anywhere until he looked me in the eye and told me so, and I believed him.

"You're not fine, far from it actually. Turn around, love, tell me what's wrong."

"Just let me put my-"

"No." I snatched the shirt and wrapped it around my arm. Now he had to face me. "Talk to me."

He reluctantly spinned around on the stool he was sitting on, and I gasped when I saw him. Self inflicted wounds all up and down his torso to his arms, gashed at the wrists. It wasn't anything serious, but the act alone was. It wasn't deep, they'd heal, but I suspected that the wounds on his psyche never will.