(Finished) Saying Excuses jacksepticeye x reader. SEQUAL TOO DRESSED IN FEAR

What The Cruel World Has Planned

Your P.O.V.

You want to hold your Irishman so badly, you just want to hold him in your arms and protect him from all the bad things that will happen. You want to cuddle him for hours, kiss him for minutes; you want to love him forever.

You try to come closer, choosing to comfort Jack first. After all he is the person you hold dearest, and the person that needs your calming words the most. Jack is staring at his hands, as if they're not his.

He is frightened of himself, shaking and shivering his way further into madness. You know there is not much you can do for him, but you swear to do everything in your power to help him. You don't want to be with a crazy person.

You stare at your feet, ashamed of yourself. Arrogance seems to have also taken over Jacks clear thinking, and his crystal blue eyes look up at you. He seems to know your every thought, and it seems that those are the things that hurt him more. No fists colliding with his face, no kick in the stomach, no awful word can come even close to describing this feeling.

You try to take a step forwards, towards your gamer, your idol. But he scuffles aside, trying to be as far away as possible. He still stares at you with big puppy eyes, and as he does, he tells you every secret he has been keeping from you.

But you are too stubborn to listen, you think that neglecting the bad things will make you less arrogant, or at least make up for every wrong thing you have ever done. You think that if you don't know about the bad things, you can help your friends better than you ever could. Yet if you have no idea in what world you are living in, how could you protect others from that same planet?

As you so carefully try to come nearer, and Jack so uncomfortably tries to get as much distance between you as he can, your "moment" is disturbed by a knock on the door, breaking the contact between crystal blue and shining e/c eyes.

'McLoughlin?'A lady stutters, she is nervously playing with her sleeves, just like Jack always does. She has baby blue eyes, just like Jack does. She has a pale skin, and brown hair, exactly like Jack. She has an Irish accent, like the YouTuber next to you. Jack seems to relax because of this (for him) known accent.

Jack nods, without making any sounds. He swallows noisily, so that everyone in this room can hear his nervousness come to life. And as Jack is already wrapping his fingers around his clothing, the woman starts talking.

'First of all: greetings from Doctor Roane. He told me to make sure you were alright, which I will do just in a second. He also told me to inform you of an accident. The victim was named Fischbach, I think?' she questioned obviously waiting for an answer, but all of the respond she got was dust from the ground, flying through the air of three suddenly (and very fast) movement.

You run through the corridors of the hospital, being the one to know where everything is, you quickly deduce that Mark is in surgery, or in the Intensive Care where they keep patient that are in a critical state. You just hope that you are wrong, which you doubt because of your years of experience.

You run faster and faster until somebody you know rushing even quicker into your arms. F/N is crying as she runs on her sneakers, trying to hug her best friend. Her face is wet of tears, her hair is a mess and she looks like she has not slept in days.

The head you have felt against your shoulder blade for years is yet again leaning against your chest. You rub her back, comforting her with everything you have. You kiss her head, as you follow your green gamer still running through the halls, dodging people as best as he can.

'Hey F/N,' you cry as your reunion goes differently than you expected it to go. Your best friend shakes slightly, as she wraps her arms around your waist and pushes you against her, telling you in this way that she is never letting go of you ever again.

'Can we go see him Y/N? Have you any idea where he is?' she cries and you hug her even tighter. You know that F/N is really concerned about Mark, and you (without hesitation) take her hand, ready to show her what the cruel world has planned for her.

Her hand is shaking; her sobbing fills the room of people walking in and out. Her eyes are wet, so are her cheeks. She has big bags under her dimmed eyes, which make her seem much older. You feel for her, you never wanted her to get involved of all this misery.

Before you have even found the right corridor, you pass Jack. He is breathing heavily; his shirt has turned red on one side, just like his trousers. He cringes silently, not wanting to disturb anyone. He keeps his suffering to himself, only wanting to be seen as the positive piece of light once night has fallen, once more devouring the sun.

You take his free hand, although he does not want to come near you. He has his head towards the ground, and you help him stand up. You carry him for a few seconds until the heavy weight of your friend and Jack hits you like a buss, coming together with a couple of emotional taxi's.

You cry, still holding onto the two people that are such a big part of your life. You try to walk further, passing doors, seeing people hug each other, and it all makes the perfect picture of the end of this hallway. Yet this hallway isn't YOUR hallway, which is filled only by emotional rollercoaster's.

You know you have to take the elevator, but you are also aware of Jacks fear for this iron monster. You get how traumatising this must be for him; you have gone to it a lot more often that he probably ever will. But he needs to embrace one fear, to concur with the other.

You feel how Jack wants to back off, yet you hold him tightly. He is trying to move yet also he understands that it would only bring pain. You close your eyes as you lure him into the thing that he hates most, holding your breath, hoping everything will go right.

The moment you open your eyes, the elevator is already going up, taking the visitors to wherever they want to go, or feel like going. Jack has his eyes closed, like a vampire seeing the sun for the first time. He is praying to make this elevator ride as short as it could possibly be. He doesn't want to be here, and he is making that very obvious.

You feel guilty for pushing him into this, but he wouldn't have made it up with the stair, maybe in his physical condition, but not in his mental stage. He would have broken down on the stairs, crying and sobbing. It wouldn't have gotten you anywhere. Still, as the elevator doors open, he makes sure to be the first one to step out, immediately opening his eyes.

Your Irishman start running, screaming for his friend not wanting to understand what has happened. You let him run; you let F/N run after him, before you break down completely. You sit down on the floor, not caring about the people that are passing bye.

It takes some seconds before you have calmed down and are able to wander these last feet. The doors are at the end of the hallway, you on the other hand are right at the beginning. You stand up once more, dealing with all the shit in your life. You look straight at the doors and start walking, eyes following you everywhere. People feel guilty, reading your face like an open book. Reading the horror and drama novel you have written throughout the years.

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Hello cornflakes, I want to thank you for the 700 readers. You cereals are amazing! I don't get why you are enjoying my horrible writing, but I do appreciate it. So thank you so much for 700 readers. I just want you to know: I'm right here for you cornflakes. And if you EVER need someone to talk with, you can always come to me. PINKIE ZWEEEEEEERRRRR right Honey-Girl-Risa?!

I love you cornflakes, and stay as absolutely stunning as you are! Much love cereal...
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