Felix to the Rescue

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Jack wished he'd told his mum not to call him tonight— he'd already ignored her once, felt too bad to ignore her again. She was his mum, after all, how was he supposed to be such a fucking are to her and remain in good conscious? The pub was loud, though, the pub Felix had chosen for them all to go visit on their last night together in Brighton. Even Mark was having fun, despite the fact that he couldn't drink. Felix wasn't drinking either, so Mark wouldn't have to be alone, but Jack was fucking Irish. He had his cereal in bowl of Beamish instead of milk, he couldn't be expected not to drink. That being said, he was having an amazing time at the BasketMakers of Gloucester.

He almost wished he didn't have to go home the next morning. Wished he could stay with Felix for days more, weeks, months, years, anything more that he could possibly have, he would take. He didn't want to leave the other man's side, especially when they so rarely got to meet. It was hard to be away from Felix. It was hard to only have Felix in phone calls and video messages. Hiding was hard. Living a country away and still having to hide was even harder. He wished he'd told his mother not to call. He wanted to cherish this last night with Felix.

He cast a glance across the bar, trying to make brief eye contact with Felix. Felix didn't see him, too busy listening to PJ tell him all about the latest anime he watched. Jack sent Felix a text instead before ducking out of the bar, into the back alley. It was dark, barely any streetlight reaching the concrete and waste bins. He brought up his mother's contact, full intending on calling her back, when a hand grabbed the back of his shirt. Jack was whirled around and then saw a flash of white as a fist connected with his nose. His back hit a brick wall and he cried out, bringing his hands to his face to protect himself.

"Your wallet," a rough, low voice order, close to his ear. Jack looked up and could just barely make out the sight of a bald man holding a knife to Jack's face. "Give it to me. And anything else you have."

"Oh fuck," Jack choked out, mind blanking out instead of panicking, but that honestly wasn't a good thing either. "What the fuck, man, what?" He wanted to turn his phone around; the screen was still unlocked. He wanted to see who was about to fucking mug him.

"Did you not fucking hear me?" the man growled. He pressed the blade to Jack's neck and Jack flinched, feeling the sharp edge cut into his skin. He bit back a noise of fear, looked up at the mugger with wide eyes, in disbelief that this was happening to him. "Your fucking wallet. Now!"

"Oh god." Jack fumbled with his pockets, patting himself down. His gut sank when he realized he left his wallet with Felix, who had confiscated everyones' wallets, saying he was going to be the one to pay for the night. It had been a fucking joke, but Jack had forgotten to get his wallet back back regardless. "Nothing, nothing," Jack mumbled, hands shaking. "I-I got nothing."

"You fucking kidding me?" The man growled. "Fuck!" Jack shut his eyes as a fist swung again, connecting with Jack's stomach. He choked on his tongue and doubled over, wrapping his arms around his middle in a weak attempt to protect his more vital organs. He then saw a fist come at him again, in his peripherals, and readied himself to hit the floor.

"What the fuck!" the man shouted. Jack opened his eyes in time to see the man turn and his head to snap back as Felix took him by the shirt and hit him across the jaw. The man stumbled back into Jack, resting against him. For a split second, Jack was able to see Felix's face.

It was terrifying.

He'd never seen Felix so unhinged, so fucking angry. His eyes were wide with absolute murder burning in them, his furious expression lit up by Jack's phone screen. There was something horrifyingly calm in his face, though, something that said that he had absolutely no problem with beating the man's skull in.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 27, 2016 ⏰

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