Chapter Text
Leaving the circus wasn’t worth this bullshit.
Jax curses softly as he stumbles over another patch of icy sidewalk, just barely managing to avoid falling face-first into a patch of (probably rock hard) snow. His socks are wet, no thanks to his old and hole-filled shoes.
A breeze ruffles his hair, and goosebumps rise in his skin.
Fuck. He’s cold.
It’s been months since the ‘great circus escape,’ and Jax honestly wishes he never left.
He never made it a huge secret that he didn’t want to leave. Almost everyone knew that. But still, when the portal opened, and the world was literally falling apart around them, Pomni looked at him with big pleading eyes, and whispered a plea to follow her.
He stupidly followed her.
Nevermind the fact that he was homeless for months before his arrival in the circus. That totally didn’t matter. It was almost like nothing that he had gone through had mattered, because for some reason, in the heat of the moment, he felt a little twinge of hope. It was almost like maybe, just maybe, he can make a life outside of that godforsaken place. Maybe he could even have a friend.
Jax kicks a rock, and turns a corner.
What a joke.
He had woken up alone.
He woke up alone, dirty, malnourished, and freezing.
Right back to where he first started.
So he stuck around a bit, and nursed his mysterious wounds. When he had first awoken, he noticed right away that he was clearly abandoned in the middle of nowhere. His arm had a fresh wound, probably the entry point for an IV, and his esophagus was burning with a pain that probably came from ripping a feeding tube out of it.
Jax was also covered in a few scrapes and bruises, and one of his teeth was chipped.
He was probably tossed out the back of a car or something. That’s honestly pretty fitting for him.
Jax had taken a few days to drag himself out of the literal ditch he was trapped in, and the rest was history. He healed, slowly. He limped around town a bit, but spent most of his days hiding in the woods by a creek, where he bathed on the days that the winter wind wasn’t so brutal.
You know. Exactly what he was doing before he put that stupid headset on.
Another gust of cold air chills Jax to the bones. He shivers, and ducks into the nearest gas station.
The 711 clerk is one he’s met several times, some random goth woman that’s always slowly smacking on a stick of gum, with eyes that look dead to the world. He gives her a cheeky salute as he ducks into the bathroom, to which she rolls her eyes at.
If there’s a Guiness World Record for most number of eyerolls received in a lifetime, Jax would be the owner of it.
Jax locks the door, and approaches the mirror. A glance at his reflection makes him cringe, just slightly. His eyes are slightly sunken in and half-lidded with exhaustion, and his hair is lightly matted and longer than he’s ever seen it.
He sighs. Pokes his cheek. Finger combes his hair.
Nothing helps.
He takes off his shoe, and then pulls off his sock. A few coins and dollars get emptied out of the fabric. He collects what he can off the streets. Pennies and dimes are treated like trash, especially in areas bustling with tourists and tourist traps.
Jax is an asshole, but not so big of an asshole that he’d give a random employee foot money- so he plugs the bathroom sink with the sink stopper, and fills it with soapy water. He washes his sock coins and dries them meticulously with a paper towel.
Shoes back on, he waltzes out of the bathroom and makes a beeline straight to the hot-hands. He buys two packs of those, and a jar of peanut butter.
“The usual?” The cashier drones, amusedly, when he places his purchases on the counter.
Jax grins easily. “Oh, you know it.” He responds, setting his payment down on the counter. “And would you look at that,” he feigned excitement. “I brought a whole three dollars in bills!”
“Joy,” The cashier snorts, black painted nails reaching out to count his pathetic stack of pennies and dimes. “Looks good. Stay warm.”
Jax stuffs his goods in his damp sweater pockets, and flips his hoodie up to cover his ears. He’s almost out the door, when the cashier stops him.
“Hey,” her tone is that of a warning. The stray from the script of their usual encounters completely throws Jax for a loop. He jolts to a stop, and tosses her a weird look- one she counters with her own concern. “You know, there’s going to be a blizzard tomorrow. It should start at around 5 a.m.” She warns.
A blizzard?
Shit.
Jax’s brows furrow for a split minute, before he relaxes his face into one of nonchalance. “Oh,” he laughs uneasily. He leans his weight on his hip, and crosses his arms. “What,” he teases, “you worried about me?”
The clerk purses her black painted lips, and the expression on her face tells him that she clearly isn’t buying his unbothered facade. If Jax closes his eyes, and suspends his disbelief a little bit, he can honestly pretend he’s talking to Zooble. The thought stings a little bit, and he hunches in on himself slightly.
“Well,” the clerk says, picking up her magazine. “You’re the only regular I get that isn’t like, always tweaking the fuck out, so it’d kinda suck if you decided to become a popsicle.”
“A popsicle!” Jax scoffs, leaning back against the door. “Well,” he smirks. “Don’t worry your scary little head off. I’m kinda hard to get rid of, these days.” He steps out the door. “See ya next time, Morticia!” He calls, tossing a two fingered wave over his shoulder.
He completely misses the final look of deep worry the clerk sends him as he traipses away.
What’s a little blizzard got on him, anyway? Jax has been drowned, shot, tortured, suffocated, and also literally tossed out of the back of a moving vehicle following a freaky science experiment gone wrong. He will be completely fine.
A snowflake lands on his nose. He clenches his fists in his pockets, and scurries down the road in search of shelter.
Yeah.
He’ll be okay.