|The Icarus Complex
Author: They-Call-Me-Orange PM
Prostitution, drugs, mob wars, and bank robbing. Welcome to Toronto. AU. Palex. Jaylie.Rated: Fiction M - English - Adventure/Romance - Alex & Jay H. - Chapters: 16 - Words: 19,472 - Reviews: 191 - Favs: 23 - Follows: 22 - Updated: 08-10-07 - Published: 05-13-07 - id: 3538045
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi... you'd all know it.
Title: "The Icarus Complex" - thank Olivia and my MP3 player.
Genres: General, Angst.
Rated: 'M' 'cause kiddies shouldn't read this. Full list of warnings are as follows:
Violence. Ho-mo-sex-u-ality. Prostitution. Drug use. Alcohol abuse. Cursing. Pornography. Verbal, physical, and emotional abuse. Probably some other shit, too. Consider yourself WARNED.
Writing Tools: Oh, c'mon, like you care...
Tunes: Corrosion of Conformity's "Shake Like You" and "Heaven's not Overflowing", Alexisonfire "Charlie Sheen vs. Henry Rollins" and Straylight Run's "Hands in the Sky (Big Shot)"
People: This work would not be in existence without the help and guidance of one, Dr. Sex Walrus. I owe her my eternal grattitude, blah, blah, blah, first born child, blah, meatball sub.
Author's Note: Really weird, guys, I know, but I think you guys will really enjoy it if you keep up with it. Right now, there are no pairings set in stone (besides Palex - but that's going to be messed with. A lot) so I'll take any requests you guys have and see about working them in. So far it's shaping up to be Jay/Ellie but that's because I couldn't think of anyone else for Jay to shack up with. Plus Mike Lobel said he'd like to see it because "that would be hot". Consider it a free-for-all. It's up to you guys.
Uncle Jim tells a different story.
I wouldn't know. I never met him. But that's not important right now.
"Everybody get down! Get the fuck down and nobody gets hurt!"
I don't measure life by how long you've lived. It's a lot more accurate to judge by how much you've lived.
Alex kept her gun leveled at the bleeding security guard on the floor. He was unmoving but it was too soon to tell if the bullet had done its work. Keen brown eyes surveyed the room of face-down civilians with calculated cruelty. Machine-like efficiency. Soldier's eyes.
Jay stepped up to the pretty blonde teller who looked as if she might pass out from fear on the spot. He clenched a handful of cotton dress-shirt and tugged her roughly forward, shoving the barrel of the pistol in the soft, quaking hollow of her throat. In his sweetest, most gentlemanly voice:
"Gimme everything you've got and I won't blow your fucking brains out."
I'd say I've lived a lot.
She nodded mutely, eyes wide pools of terror. Jay hopped across the counter and followed her back into the vault room, nodding once to Alex from her position across the thirty or so people splayed across dirty tile, no doubt every one of them were praying for their lives. Authorities would be arriving soon. He had to work fast.
The teller worked the impossibly large Vault open with shaking fingers. She was beginning to hiccup back infant sobs, translucent tears carving moist trails down her pretty face. He shoved the gun into the small of her back roughly. She gasped and stumbled forward. No doubt it would bruise tomorrow.
Jay didn't have the time to care.
"Get on with it," his growl was menacing enough to increase her work tenfold.
By the time the Vault was open she had begun sobbing openly. He shoved her to the side and ripped the keys from her limp grasp. Distantly, he heard sirens.
From the lobby:
"Shit, Jay. Hurry the fuck up!"
He muttered a curse and set about opening as many drawers of cash as he could.
The rest was a blur of rattling keys, scraping metal, fluttering bills, and muffled thumps as wads of cash bounced into the duffel bag slung across his frame.
"Jay, let's go!"
He gave up fumbling with the last drawer. Spinning on his heel, dimly wincing at the squeal of rubber-soled-boots on tile and sprinted out the back way as he heard shots being fired from the lobby.
"We're done!" he called to Alex and got a short volley of rapid gunfire in response.
There was general screaming as he took off, using the planned escape route of the back door. A few moments before he reached the exit he heard the sounds of harsh breathing and the dull clunk of heavy boots behind him.
He cast a brief glance over his shoulder and was greeted by a pissed looking Alex, one arm dangling limply, a Berretta clenched in loose fist, the other hand thrown over what he assumed was a wound on her bicep. Crimson fluid leaked between her fingers. Her dark eyes screamed murder. Jay ran faster.
My name is Jay Hogart.
He threw his body against the door marked 'EMERGENCY' with all his might. His shoulder rattled in its socket, his head connecting with the three-inch-thick metal of the door and buzzing painfully at the shock. The door swung open at a pace that seemed almost comically slow. He gave one last jerk of effort and took off down the alley; loosing his footing briefly and managing to keep himself upright by pushing off against the slimy ground with his right hand.
The wet slap of Alex's boots behind him and the sensation of brown eyes glaring holes into his back let him know that she was close. He swung a hard left and caught sight of the busted up old pickup they had rolled into town in and prayed it had enough juice to carry them back out.
She is Alex Nunez.
Jay crashed into the front seat, turning the keys he had left dangling from the ignition (a ballsy move, he knew, but it was paying off). He slammed the pedal all the way to the floor at almost he exact moment he felt Alex jump over the tailgate and land, mostly safe, in the truck bed.
This is our story.
Rubber burnt. Tires squealed. Sirens roared. Alex was shooting at something he couldn't divert his focus to look at.
And it's time I get the fuck out of Dodge.
And then they were gone.