Personal Jesus (Twiggy Ramirez and Marilyn Manson Fan Fiction)

Chapter 17

Jax POV

Eventually, the hours turned to days before drifting agonizingly slowly into weeks; four weeks in fact. Exactly one month, and each day Marilyn seemed to deteriorate that little bit further. He just looked so haunted, so sad all the time; he never gave up hope, though. Not once. I was awed by his strength, by his ability to push on despite the fact he clearly wasn't OK.

"Pizza, Manson?" Pogo yelled out, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Pogo, Thomas and I were all leaning over a couple of large pizzas set upon a counter in Marilyn's kitchen.

"Manson?" Pogo called again when no reply sounded.

"No thanks." He called back.

I chewed my lip worriedly.

"Poges, it's his third day without touching any food."

He sighed in frustration.

"I know, but we can't just force it down his throat, Jax."

"But... isn't there anything we can do?" I asked, desperation clear in my voice.

Pogo stared at me for a while, and I returned his gaze.

"There has to be something..." I added.

Pogo was my best friend, there's no doubt about it; we had clicked and formed the strongest bond almost immediately. I wasn't oblivious to the fact that Pogo was also looking rather terrible, as he was Twiggy's friend and cared about him a hell of a lot, and he had known and been best friends with Marilyn for years. He was watching his childhood friend lose himself to grief, and there wasn't an awful lot he could do about it. I felt for him, I really did.

"Would it make you feel better if I went and spoke to him?" He asked me, sounding resigned.

"Hmm." I considered it, before turning and taking a plate out of the cupboard. "Maybe leave this for him." I told him, as I placed a greasy slice of cheese and tomato pizza onto the plate and handed it over.

"Alright."

"Cheers, Poges."

With that, he strode out of the kitchen and I heard his footsteps gradually climb up the stairs.

"How are you holding up?" Thomas asked me, almost immediately.

Instead of turning around to face him, I just shut my eyes and clenched my jaw; Thomas would pounce that question on me whenever we were alone together. My jaw hardened further as the image of a certain him came into my mind, and I fought to shove it away instantly.

"Come on, Jax. It's serious."

"I know!" I growled, spinning around to glare at him. "I don't need you reminding me! I know it's serious, I know I'm putting myself at further risk by going out on the searches instead of hiding away and I know what he's capable of!"

"Then you should agree with me when I say we need to do something about it now, instead of wait around for him to find you!" Thomas snapped back.

"It's not important right at this moment!" I hissed. "Making sure Marilyn doesn't starve, and Pogo doesn't lose it from his stress, and getting Twiggy back safely is my priority!"

"Well helping you is mine!" He argued back.

"Tom-!" I growled, but was cut off.

"Is everything alright in here?"

Thomas and I swung our heads around to see Barbara, Marilyn's mum, standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Yes, ma'am." I smiled at the woman, feeling a little embarrassed that we'd been caught bickering like small children.