Safekeeping [JackLexington]

So. Fucking. Cold. To be honest, I've never been this cold before. I could feel my very bones shaking and my teeth are chattering, the chill of the wind biting right through my soaked jacket. My right thigh, the leg I broke my femur, starts hurting and I can only assume it's because of the cold. How cold was it? It had to be way past the point of water freezing, maybe even at the point of lakes freezing nearly solid. I know that I'm exaggerating, but with the water still dripping down my skin, I'm freezing. All I can feel is a painful numbness in my legs and arms, and even though I keep my hands under my armpits, they're nowhere near warm. It hurts, it really does hurt. I need warmth, but there's none.

It takes me a while to realize that something is shaking me. Then there is a voice sounding a long ways off, but it could be just because of the wind. I open my eyes drowsily and lift my head, blinking a few times to clear my vision. Could it be...? Seriously? Of all the people in this District who could find me, I'm incredibly lucky that Jack was the one to turn up. A weak smile finds its way to my face and I uncross my arms even though it's quite painful, reaching out with my quaking hand and grab onto his arm in disbelief. I can't explain to you how happy I am to see him; it's literally like seeing an angel in a very dark and dreary place. And the worst part is that I can't even tell Jack how excited I am that he's here; I try saying his name, but all I can manage to get out is a "hachh" sound. My voice, like my hand, is shivering like mad. The hand that's holding onto Jack's arm jerks involuntarily and I let go of him, coming to the slow realization that he's carrying quite a load on his back, so I don't want to bring him down anymore.

Jack takes my hand in his and oh my Ripred, he is so warm. I want to just fling myself onto him and take some of his warmth, but first of all, that'd be rude, and second, there's no way to steal someone's warmth. He asks if I can stand up, but honestly, I can't feel my feet. My fingers were starting to have a tint of purple, so I can only imagine that my toes are the same color. The color is bad, really bad; I know that it's the beginning stages of frostbite, but there's nothing I can do about it. But with Jack and his mother now here, maybe I have a chance. I try to get up, but since I can't feel my feet, I would have stumbled and fallen if Jack hadn't been helping me stand.

Then his mother suggests we both strip down and share body warmth. Hey, I'm not against it. I try to take off my jacket, but my fingers aren't bending and I can't feel anything. When I look at my hand, all I can see is that the fingers are purple. I feel bad for Jack having to take my soggy jacket off for me, but when you're shivering like hell and your fingers can't bend at all, you have no choice. The icy wind whips against my bare skin and I just can't stand it anymore. When he puts the coats around us, I can't help myself but to just go toward the warmth, leaning into his side and trying to get as much of my skin out of the wind as possible. I feel bad for him; I'm frozen through and through, trembling like an earthquake against his solid frame. I gave him a small, apologetic whimper, knowing it must have been hard for him to give up his warm, dry jacket in order to get my body temperature higher. I really don't care if anyone sees us. All I want is to be warm, and if that meant stripping down naked and clinging to another man, then by Ripred I'll do it. It's becoming harder to stand on my numb feet, so I find myself leaning more heavily onto Jack, still trying to stay upright and keep out of the wind.

I give Jack a very short and weak laugh, though honestly I really did find it all funny. I've never been in a situation like this, so standing nearly naked against another guy is definitely something new. Not that I really mind, Jack's really good looking.

My feet -- my damn feet -- if I could have felt them, I wouldn't have leaned against him. And if I hadn't leaned against him, we wouldn't be falling down, into the snow again. Against my bare skin, the snow is colder than anything I ever could have imagined. The sheer chill of it goes right through me and takes my breath away, leaving me gasping and pretty much convulsing in the snow. Jack exclaims that I need to stop playing in the snow, but I'm literally on the verge of freezing to death that I can't reply with any sounds. He pulls me back into him, and again I burrow against him, feeling him start to shiver. I felt bad for Jack, I really did. Here he was, stripped down and had me against him. In a blizzard. If I hadn't been so stupid to stay out in the blizzard, he wouldn't be risking his safety for me. I try to tell him that I'm lost, but all I can manage is a shivering and disoriented mumble.

I don't know how much time passed until I heard arriving footsteps; everything was starting to blur together. I lift my right hand and examine my fingers, horrified to see half of the ring finger and the tip of my middle finger were black. Oh good Ripred, that certainly isn't good. I'm pulled out of my stupor by someone hauling me up and wrapping a blanket around me, which I accept gratefully. Then the warm water bottles, oh goodness, I clung to them in my blanket, relishing the warmth and fighting the urge to just curl up. But Jack, is he alright? I try to look out at him, but the wind is just too horrid for me to stand, so I retreat back to the safety of the blanket, holding the water bottles against me, forgetting temporarily about my blackened fingers.

I want to move but the blanket has got me all wrapped up like a bug in a rug, and though I'm warm, I feel bad for Jack. He literally just saved my life, and here I was, stealing all the warmth while he is forced to suffer. Maybe I could toss him the water bottles, but I never get the chance. Before I know it we're in his house again; everything is the same way it was all those seasons ago when I had first spent the night here. They set me on the sofa and oh my Ripred it's so warm. Almost too much warmth all at once, though, so I unwrap the blanket from me and leave it just covering my legs, keeping my torso bare. My shirt was still out in the snow... fuck. When you're desperate like me, you keep all your clothing no matter how tattered they are. My multi-colored eyes turn toward the fire and that's all I look at for a long time. The warmth that radiates from it is like God's own breath warming me up. Feeling slowly but surely begins to to return to my body, but the shivering is still at work. I know that soon the pain in my frostbitten fingers would be hell, but I'll cross that bridge when it happens. Right now, I'm just happy to be warm.

I look up at Jack's mother takes my hands and examine them. All the fingers are purple, but only two are black, which is good and bad at the same time. I know what frostbite does and I know that it results in amputations, but I honestly never thought it would happen to me. All these years I've been so careful to avoid it, but all it took was one blizzard to determine that I'm going to lose two fingers. I feel all the blood drain from my face when she tells me this, and of course I can hear her, but I can't bring myself to answer her. I don't think they have any numbing devices, so it dawns on me that I could very well have to endure the amputations while a hundred percent conscious.

When Jack simply comes right out and tells his mother that I'm a Avox, I freeze, my eyes wider than they had already been. What if she won't let me stay? What if I get tossed back out in the storm and get lost again? If that happens, I know I'll die. It's easy to find my way around in every other season, but not when there's deep snow and a blizzard going on. My eyes carry their gaze from Jack to his mother, then back to Jack, watching both of the expressions on their faces. I remember the last time I was here, his parents were a bit hesitant to allow me to spend the night, but when his mother says that they're not going to be like the Peacekeepers and let me stay in this warm, homely cabin, I'm so overwhelmed with relief that I can only smile. But there was still that lingering fear of the horrid pain that was soon to come.



((Forgot to mention earlier that I love those pictures of Garrett Hedlund <3 ))

My relief is extremely short lived. There's a knock on the door and I watch as Jack starts to head for it, but then my absolute worst nightmare came true: Peacekeepers. All the blood drains from my face, leaving it blanch. To be honest, I don't think I've ever felt this much fear all at once. Peacekeepers were in the Lexington's house, and so was I, of all people. An Avox. I'm the kind of people they search for and send to the DC. I can't go back there, no, oh no. I can't. But what's worse, I can't let Jack's family -- who've been so kind to me -- take the fall for me. I can't let that happen, so if worse comes to worse, I'll have to think of something to lure them away while Jack's family escapes. Screw my own health, I won't let these Peacekeepers get a hold of the Lexingtons, not after all they've done for me.

My eyes meet Jack's from across the room, and I'm honestly stunned with what one of the Peacekeeper's say. Take me to a doctor? Oh, no. No, no, no. If I go with them, they'll find out really quick that I don't have a tongue. But if I don't go with them, will they put up a fight and just forcibly take me with them? I sure hope not. I'd take amputation with no anesthetics rather than go with the Peacekeepers to whatever hell they have for Avoxes who get caught a second time. The two men are intimidating looking, too, and against my scrawny frame, they'd pin me down in a heartbeat. Kill me, too, perhaps. I discretely hide my black and purple fingers underneath the blanket so they won't see them and insist I go with them. I keep my mouth shut, not daring to make any sound out of pure terror.

They need to leave. The Peacekeepers just need to leave now. I'm growing more and more uneasy, watching the two men in the room. I can't even begin to describe how thankful I am to Jack's mother when she says that they're being kind but I don't need to go with them. Even if I did, I probably would've run away from them and faced the elements a second time. I'd rather be at the mercy of Mother Nature than Peacekeepers.

As soon as the door closes, I let my head fall back in utter relief. When Jack asks if anyone else thought that was crazy, I raise my hand, not really caring if it was a rhetorical question or not. I've had way too many run-ins with Peacekeepers and I have to say, this is probably the closest I've ever been to getting caught. My hand falls back down on top of the blanket and I take a few deep breaths to calm my frayed nerves. I can't keep away the lingering thought that the two men may come back, but I force it out of my mind. Right now I need to focus on Jack and his family and how I'm going to repay them for taking me in once again. As Jack hands me a bottle of whiskey, I take it and look up at him, puzzled. What was I going to do with the whiskey? Then it hits me: no anesthetics. I had to get drunk in order to not feel them cutting off my fingers. With a sigh, I know what I'm supposed to do, so I put the bottle to my mouth and take as many sips as I could without gagging on the bitter liquid, downing half the bottle before I realize it. The sinking, gut-wrenching feeling in my stomach very slowly starts to fade, but the anxiety still isn't leaving me. I look back up at Jack's mother, wanting to tell her that Jack needed to get warm, but I can't because of obvious reasons. And besides, I have a job to do: get drop-dead drunk so I don't feel a thing when she hacks off my fingers. I cringe at the thought of a serrated blade sawing through my flesh and bone, so I take another big swig of the whiskey, willing it to dull my senses faster.