Room Mates ｜BatJoke AU

Chapter Seven

It was around 11 pm, the rain had gotten worse. Thunder clapped, and lightning could be seen in the distance. Rain hit against the building, sounding almost like hail, and flowing down the window like a stream of blood.
Jack was still awake, staring out the window, the rain fully captivated him. He always says that he loves the rain, but it reality, it just makes him think of the past. Childhood memories that he had tried to hard to repress and forget, only to come back and haunt him again and again.

Thunder shook the building slightly, making Jack flinch. He looked over to Bruce, who was asleep in his bed. Jack decided not to bother him as he slips his gloves off.
His hands were scarred up, scratched, and bruised. He still hadn't let go of his bad habits. It was easier said than done.
He looks back over to Bruce, making sure the man was still asleep. He'd never hear the end of it if he was caught harming himself like this.
He let out a sigh, fishing out his pocket knife from the hoodie on the ground, before making his way to the bathroom.

He poked the tip of the knife into the palm of his hand, breaking the skin almost instantly. He twisted the knife around, blood trickling down his hand. The feeling of his skin tangling with the blood was sickening, but he didnt stop.
The scent of his blood filled up the bathroom, he could almost taste it on his tongue.
He pulls the knife out, letting the blood drip down onto the ground. He then dragged the knife along his fingers, leaving yet another mark.
He blamed his teared up eyes on the scent of the blood, but that was just an excuse.

Thunder shook the building again and Jack closes his eyes tightly. He wasnt afraid. Not anymore. Him doing this was proof of it, right?
He wasnt weak. He wasnt scared. He wasnt going to let these memories get to him! Right? He wasnt afraid. He's never afraid! A little rain was nothing. And blood never hurt him!
He lets out a few giggles, his mouth twitching. He stabs into his palm again, going deeper into the cut. He digs around with the knife, tears welling up in his eyes as he laughed some more.
It didnt hurt, it didnt hurt at all. He wasnt weak, a little cut like this is nothing to cry about! But even if this wasnt what was making him tear up, what was?

Thunder crashed and Jack noticed that he was shaking.
"Huh? That's weird." He mumbles, staring at his shaking arm.
He wasnt afraid, was he? No! Of course he wasnt! Then why was he shaking so much from a little thunder?
He slams his arm into the counter. Stop it, stop it, stop it! He slams his arm into the counter again, but harder.
He drops his knife and starts beating his arm, trying to get it to stop fucking shaking. Bruises were forming all over his arm but he wouldnt stop shaking.
He raises his arm again, slamming it into the counter, nearly breaking his arm. He grunts a bit, hitting his arm some more before he finally stops shaking.

He smiles, letting out a few giggles. See? He wasnt afraid! Look how in control he is.
He laughs some more, grabbing onto his fractured arm and he falls to the ground, laughing more. He won! He finally won! He isnt afraid, he isnt weak!
His smile twitched and he stares down at his arm. The disgusting sight of it. A hairless rat was prettier than the sight of this. He stares at his arm.
With the pain, the smell of blood in the air, and this disgusting sight, it almost made him want to vomit.
How can a gross thing such as himself even exist? Better off dead, most people would agree.

He stands up slowly. He decided it'd be best if he wrapped up his arm. He wouldn't want Brucey to worry about him.
He grabs the first aid kit, and he wraps up his arm and hand, his blood staining through the wrapping a bit.
If Bruce asked about it, what would he say? Would he lie? Well, now's not the time to worry.
He cleans up the blood on the floor and counter, putting everything nicely back where they belong. Almost as if nothing had happened.
He slips his gloves back on, grabbing his pocket knife and closing it, walking to the door and opening it.

But, when he opened the door, he saw Bruce waiting there with his arms crossed. Jack's face paled when he saw Bruce standing there.
"Oh hey Brucey. Did the storm wake you up too?" Jack says and smiles, trying to play it off.
Bruce says nothing, grabbing Jack's bandaged up arm. He flinches a bit from the sudden touch.
"What did you do to your arm?" He asks, staring Jack in the eye.
"Let go!" Jack snarls, trying to pull away from Bruce's firm grip, but it only hurt more.

Jack swings the pocket knife at Bruce, but Bruce grabs his wrist before it could hit him. He drops the knife, but still struggled in Bruce's grip.
"Let go of me you bastard!" Jack yells, kicking at Bruce.
Bruce pins the smaller man to the wall, his hands over his head.
Fear flashed in Jack's eyes when this happened. His heart raced with panic and he had no ways of fighting back. All his walls were torn down and he was... weak.

"Now, answer me. Why did you hurt yourself?" Bruce asks, staring down at the smaller man. Jack just remained quiet, not able to form words.
"I told you that you could come to me, so why didnt you?" Bruce asks.
Bruce wasnt actually that angry, he was more upset that Jack hadnt come to him. But Jack saw it as the opposite. He thought that Bruce was attacking him. He thought that Bruce was angry. And he couldnt do anything as he just quietly broke down.
He opens his mouth to speak before thunder rumbles the building slightly. Jack flinches a bit, pressing himself into the wall, as if trying to distance himself away from Bruce.

Bruce stares down at Jack and sighs, pulling away slowly.
"Sorry, Jack." He says, grabbing the pocket knife from the floor and looking over at Jack.
"You were scared of the storm, weren't you? You can sleep in my bed if you need to." He says, toying with the knife a bit. Jack just stares at Bruce, getting a bit flustered.
"Not like that, you weirdo." Bruce laughs, "Your bed's right next to the window so that's why I offered. Dont think about it too much."

Bruce then puts the knife in a place that Jack cant reach and goes over to his bed.
Jack looks up at his knife and sighs, slipping off his gloves and throwing them on the floor. He always hated those gloves anyway.
He looks at Bruce who was facing away from Jack. He had second thoughts of getting in the bed, before hearing a crash of thunder. He jumps a bit and gets in bed next to Bruce.
Jack wasnt really used to being this close to another person, but Bruce didnt really seem to mind it.
Jack mumbles something under his breath about Bruce being a "god damn attractive playboy bastard", which Bruce gave a chuckle at in return.

But, as much as Jack hated to admit it, he enjoyed Bruce's company. He felt secure around him, and knew that he didnt have to get through this alone anymore.
He finally had someone to help him.