Hey guys! So I thought you might wanna know who I envision as characters for this story...so here it goes!
Niall - Niall lol obviously.
Jordan - Chad Michael Murray (from when he was in A Cinderella Story or One Tree Hill)
Morgan - either Sarah Hyland, Shelley Hennig, or Aimee Carrero. Mostly Aimee.
Kevin - Lucas Till ( from when he was in the Hannah Montana Movie omg lol )
Timmy - Drew Roy
Dr. Jammeson - Dave Annable
And as for Allyson...I can not think of an actress and no matter how many times I look through pages and pages or brunette actresses, I can't find anything. Who do you guys picture her as? Comment please! I need suggestions haha.
And I think that just about covers it for the most important characters!
Oh and I also want to give some names of songs that inspire me for the chapters, because I always listen to music while I write! So for this chapter...
All Of The Stars - Ed Sheeran
Warrior - Demi Lovato
Take Me To Church - cover by Matt McAndrew from the Voice (I am just obsessed with this song)
You Found Me - The Fray
Now enjoy the chapter (: x ///
It's now around seven in the evening, and my stomach is bloated from the amount of Papa Gino's pizza and root beer I have consumed.
"I've never been this full," I groan, sprawling across the small chair I lay on, with my legs dangling off of one of the corduroy arms.
"So worth it," Jordan smiles.
Morgan is working tonight, so she won't be home until the late hours of the morning. The bar she works at will stay open until nine in the morning the following day, if people remain to party until then. If that's the case, she usually sleeps on the floor above the bar, where a lot of the other workers do too. There are a ton of guest rooms, it's rather funny to be honest.
"I should get going," Jordan says, and stands up. As he stands, he almost trips over and grips onto the back of the couch for support.
"You alright there? Too much pizza?" I joke.
"Yeah, I guess so," he says, in the most unconvincing tone.
He picks up his paper plate and plastic cup off of the coffee table, then grabs mine too, and walks towards the kitchen to throw it all away. But as he makes his way there, I notice a slight limp in his walk.
"So when are you going to tell me more about this boy toy of yours?" he calls out to me, as I hear the sound of the trash can closing.
"He's not a boy toy!" I defend myself. We haven't even done stuff like that. I don't know about him, but as for me, I'm still a virgin. And proud.
"Yeah, that's what they all say," he says, now walking back to the living room. "Now where did I put my keys..." he pads the top of his khaki pants in search of them.
"You know, you can just stay the night if you want too," I offer. I don't know where he lives now, but I doubt it's anywhere nice if he was living off of a Dunkin Donuts salary.
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"Of course, you're welcome anytime. You should know that," I tell him.
He smiles genuinely at me, and I take that that is his way of saying thanks. I can see the pure humbleness and gratitude in his eyes, and the small crinkles around them.
I stand up and wipe the pizza crust crumbs off of my yoga pants that I changed into earlier, along with a regular tee.
"You can sleep in Morgan's bed if you want. She won't be coming home tonight and she wouldn't mind,"
"It's alright, the couch is fine for me," he lays across, putting his arms behind his head, and crossing his right leg over his left.
"At least take some of my clothes to change into, and pull out the couch, it's a futon so you can use it as a bed,"
He shifts over and stands up rather slowly. Then, taking the cushions off and placing them behind the piece of furniture.
"I'll go get you something to wear," I jog up the stairs and once in my bedroom, pull out some less feminine pajama pants that are a plain red, and an old gray sweatshirt that used to be Timmy's. I haven't worn it in ages, but I know Jordan will recognize it. Timmy wore it basically every other day.
I throw on a different sweatshirt for myself, too.
While I'm upstairs, I grab my phone off of my bed stand and notice a few missed calls from Niall. I contemplate calling him back, but instead just slip my phone into the front pocket of my sweatshirt and head back downstairs.
While walking down each step, I notice Jordan has already advanced in the process of making the bed, with it all out and blankets and pillows ready for his slumber.
"Wow, look at you," I smirk.
"You learn some handiness skills while in the service. It pays off,"
"So you risked your life to be able to make a bed out of a futon in a quick time. So worth it," my words spread sarcasm, but he only glares at me for a few seconds, knowing the truth behind it.
I toss him the clothes and give him directions to get to the bathroom.
He glances through the clothes, and looks up at me after noticing Timmy's sweatshirt. Without saying anything, I know he is asking if it is okay that to wear it, and I nod. He smiles back, and that's the end of our telepathic conversation. It's strange really, how well we understand each other. It's a bond no one could ever be able to duplicate.
While Jordan gets dressed in the bathroom, I decide to get him some better pillows instead of the decorative ones from the couch, and a few more heavier blankets. Our heating isn't the best, and sometimes goes off in the middle of the night, so I want to be sure he stays warm.
I also set up the television at a better angle so he can watch it before he sleeps, and toss the clicker on top of the blankets for him to use.
"Thanks for everything," Jordan says once he returns. I take his dirty clothing and throw it in the laundry so he can wear it in the morning.
"I'll be upstairs, if you need anything. My bedroom is the first door on the left," I tell him.
"Okay, sounds great," he says, and turns towards the futon/couch.
"Great," I rock back and forth on my heels, and then walk towards the stairs, not knowing what to say next.
When I'm half way up the stairs, Jordan speaks up.
"Hey Allyson?" I look down to see him already under the blankets I spread out for him.
"Yeah?"
"Good night," he says, looking not at me but the wall in front of him, facing the opposite direction.
I don't respond right away, but just smile giddily to myself.
"Good night, Jordan," I tell him and continue to walk up the stairs.
Once I'm under my own covers, I text Niall to tell him I was busy earlier, and that I am now going to sleep. I place my phone on the bed stand, flicker off the light, and close my eyes to enter a deep sleep.
----
My eyes flash open at the sound of a huge crash from downstairs, and before I realize it, I'm sprinting down the stairs to find the source of the sound.
My eyes are still reacting to the small amount of light only coming from a dim light in the living room, but I see a figure laying on the ground by the bar in my kitchen.
It takes me a few seconds to realize that it's Jordan, laying on the ground.
"Jordan?" I panic, flicking on the kitchen light.
He is on the ground, one leg bent as he clutches the other that is stick straight. Pain is streaked across his face.
"Jordan!" I shriek, running towards him and getting on the ground next to his leg that seems to be causing his grief.
He groans in pain and his eyes are forcefully closed.
"Jordan tell me what's going on, what happened-what time is it and why are you awake?" I bombard him with questions that I need answers too.
He winces and continues to grab his leg, and he fumbles in trying to lift up the pant leg, so I do it for him.
A gasp falls from my lips as I cover my mouth at the sight. Where his leg should be, is a prosthetic.
"I need to...I need to take it off..." he says, and I see the sweat glistening on his eyebrows.
"Oh my God Jordan," my voice is filled with shock.
"Fuck- Allyson just help me get this off!" He demands, and his stern voice takes me back for a moment but I snap back to reality and realize that he is in pain and I need to help him, because obviously he can't do it himself.
I don't know what to do, but I just try to mess with some of the straps, as he helps too, and the fake leg is finally off of him. It stops just below his knee, where some blood is trailed.
He lets out a huge breath and lays back on the hardwood floor.
"What the hell Jordan?" I say, out of breath.
"I didn't want to tell you. I'm supposed to take it off, I'm still getting used to it, but I didn't want to freak you out," he says, his eyes closed as he wipes the sweat from his forehead.
"Freak me out? Jordan I wouldn't have cared," I sigh. "Now tell me what happened," I tell him, even though I am almost most certain of the place that is responsible for losing his leg.
"Just help me up and let's sit on the bed while I tell you," he says, sitting up.
I don't react right away, due to my shock that is still present, but then rush to my feet and put my hands up for him to grab onto as he struggles to stand up, so I pull on his arms to help. It's work, but eventually we make our way to the living room.
Once I help him sit, I jog over to the kitchen to turn off the lights, leaving the cheap lamp next to the couch as the only source of light, and then return to Jordan.
Neither of us speak as we both sit on the end of the futon.
"It was the day Timmy died," he finally says, and I don't respond, letting him finish the story.
He coughs a few time, and I look over to see his eyes glossy.
"We were in Afghanistan, but I think you already know that part. We were helping families out, you know, being friendly and showing them different things and telling the kids stories. Our mission was to protect the people there, because they couldn't protect themselves. 'Cause that's what we did-protect those who can't protect themselves," he sniffles and I don't do anything to stop the small tears on the edge of spilling from my brown eyes that will most definitely be red soon.
"Timmy always would tell stories of us. Not just him and I, but you too. Even Morgan. The kids loved hearing about life here in Boston, or the United States for that matter. Even though some of them didn't understand full English, they were just excited to be around us. And Timmy was the happiest person ever to make them happy. He was so passionate when telling stories about times where we would mess with mall cops, or play gigs at random bars and all of that fun shit we used to screw around doing,"
I don't see the bad of this story, because so far it sounds lovely, but I know there aren't ever happy endings in even the best stories. And besides the tears streaming down my cheeks, it makes me so incredibly happy to hear about Timmy when he was off in service. I never got to know what he did, exactly. No one told me how he died, it was just that he died in battle. Nothing else. No story to tell. But here they are, the answers to the questions that drain me in the middle of the night when I can't sleep.
"He was just about to tell them all about you, for the millionth time. He did love you, Allyson. More than anything," he chokes on his own tears as he forces himself to continue. "There was shouting. Orders from our commanders outside of the house-well not really house but it was one of these tent things that these poor people had to live in. And then there were the sounds of gunshots and screaming, and we both knew in that moment that the terrorists invading the places we were supposed to keep safe, had come. We took blankets and tables and stools and everything to hide the kids in the small area we were in, but they were so scared. There were five of them, and they were petrified. They didn't have their parents, and looked up to us like we were angels. Angels, Allyson," he sobs.
I put my hand on his thigh, and he sniffles before continuing again.
"Then this guy showed up with this huge gun, and pointed it directly at my head, but Timmy shot him in the stomach before he could aim correctly, and it went off in the corner of the tent. But the guy wouldn't give up....he just...just tried to shoot Timmy so I jumped on top of him, but it was too late. He was already shot in the same place Timmy shot the douche bag, and before the fat ass died he shot me in the leg too. The kids survived, but witnessed the whole thing. I don't think they could ever recover from that. He only lived for a minute, not even after he was shot, but he fought a battle bigger than any other. He didn't even cry. He just....he just..." Jordan puts his hand on top of mine and squeezes, releasing his pain in every word he speaks. Both of us are now spilling our own tears, but I need this. I crave the closure of my late brother.
"He just kept telling me that it will be okay. That he was better off, and that I was going to go home, and I made a promise to make sure you had the best life you could possibly have. Because that's all he wanted. That's why he went off to war. You know that right? He knew you didn't want to go to some fancy fucking college and he wanted to give you the shit load of money you're supposed to get after serving for this fucking country, but neither of us got shit after all that," he sobs and I throw myself onto him as his arms wrap securely around my body.
It would be silent without our soft sobs, but even those slowly die down. I don't think either of us have any tears left to be cried out. It's a bittersweet situation. I need to know what happened in the last few moments of my brother's life, but it was a painful struggle to force my ears into listening.
"Will you sleep with me, Allyson?" he asks, his face in the mess of my hair.
"W-what?" I choke out.
"Not that way-fuck no. I mean, like, can you just sleep next to me? Just for tonight?" he asks and I am relieved by his clarification.
"Yes," I tell him, and help him under the blankets with only one leg, and then crawl over to the other side of him as he wraps his arms tightly around me.
"I'm sorry I didn't fulfill my promise," he whispers.
"Who said you didn't? I'm fine, Jordan. Actually, as of right now, I'm better than I was before with not knowing about Timmy. Thank you, for telling me that," I am honest with my words.
His breathing is hitched, and I feel the rapid pulse of his heart in his chest against my back.
"I will make sure you're protected and safe for the rest of your life, Allyson. Even if you don't want me near you, I'm going to be there. I'm keeping that promise until the day I die, for Timmy."
And those are the last words I hear before I doze off to sleep in the buff arms of my best guy friend that I have ever had, and ever will.