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Waking the Fallen	By : Need2ScreamNow Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1369 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't know the guys in A7x, I'm not making any money whatsoever and this is all Fiction. It never happened and it never will.

Chapter List
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A/N: Now, as most of you know, I know nothing about the guys’ families and all that jazz so I’m taking liberties with Jimmy’s family. The character in this is in no way based on Jimmy’s actual mother. M’kay, now that I’m done covering my ass, on with the story!

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“James, why weren’t you at school today? That’s the third time this week!” His mother launched into one of her year long rants again; at least she wasn’t too messed up on the pills. Her thoughts were actually somewhat coherent. Jimmy had only been in their shabby apartment a grand total of thirty seconds before his mother had cornered him with a letter from school notifying her of his truancy. He tuned her out easily, after years of practice it was pretty much automatic at this point.

He found a spot on the distant wall to stare out, his face immediately falling into its bored and disinterested stare he always got when people were hassling him. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with her at the moment. What was she doing here anyway? It was Tuesday; she was supposed to be at work until nine. A slight scowl marred his features as he pondered the problem. Either she’d gotten herself fired again or she had snuck out, which meant she was probably going to get fired again in the near future.

A sharp slap brought him out of his thoughts, his head jerked to the side with the force of the hit and a low growl rumbled in his chest. He drew himself up to his full six feet five inches and towered over the drugged out woman in front of him. Her eyes were bright both with the high the pills gave her and with anger, “Don’t think you can scare me you little bastard. I raised you!” she yelled glaring up at him. He drew his lips back in a snarl, painfully close to actually hitting her. She hadn’t done anything even remotely motherly to him since his drunk ass dad had left, and that was more than ten years ago. He had raised himself. Still, he could never find it in him to actually hit her no matter what she threw at him or called him. Still, his fist balled with barely contained anger and the temptation to knock her on her ass was strong.

“You’re as worthless as your father, worse than him even. At least he went to school.” She sneered.

“And he still ended up with a wreck like you.” He countered scathingly. She slapped him again, harder, and his head snapped to the other side with his cheek stinging painfully. Without thinking he brought both hands up and shoved the smaller woman as hard as he could. She stumbled back and fell down but was on her feet again in an instant, “Get out of here you pathetic waste of space!” She screeched in fury, she picked up a half empty bottle of vodka and threw it at him. He was used to her throwing things at him, but usually from across the room; as close as she was he didn’t have time to fully dodge the bottle and it clipped his forehead before it shattered against the door. He stumbled back holding a hand to his head and felt something warm and sticky coat his fingers.

“I don’t wanna see your sorry bum ass again do you hear me!” his mother screamed and reached for another bottle. Jimmy grabbed his backpack and slipped out the door as another bottle came hurtling toward his head. The bottle shattered against the door showering him with glass and beer. He took off down the hall and raced down the stairs, pissed as she was, she might follow him out with more bottles.

He reached the street and darted around to the side alley where he could collect himself. Blood was starting to drip into his eye from the gash on his forehead, he pressed his palm against it and winced, it felt like it might need stitches. He shook the sleeve of his hoody down and used that to sop up the blood while he thought.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been kicked out and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. He would love to get a place of his own but he already lived in the cheapest apartments in town. He had limited options, about three to be exact. He could see which manager was working at the laundromat and maybe crash there for the night or week. If David or Nikki were working he definitely could, they didn’t have a problem with him sleeping in the employee lounge for a couple nights when his mom got crazy on the pills. If Tammy was working there was no way in hell. That particular harpy was convinced he was stealing from the place and barely let him come in when he was scheduled to work.

His second option was the local park, granted he couldn’t really crash there until well after sunset since the place was always busy with kids right up until their bed time. It was supposed to rain tonight too which didn’t really make that the most comfortable quarters. The small tunnel he’d been able to hide in when he was younger was too small now that he was bigger. If he went to the park he’d be on a bench.

His third option was the Scottish Rite Cathedral on the outskirts of town, almost a two hour walk from where he was now. The Scottish Rite had its doors open twenty-four/seven, granted they had a snazzy hi-tech security system but they wouldn’t care if he slept on a pew for a night or two as long as he was quiet and didn’t disturb anyone. Aside from the laundromat that was his best option, it was warm and the pews weren’t a feather mattress but they were more comfortable than the cold metal park benches.

He started walking toward the Cathedral, he would have to pass the laundromat to get there and if Tammy was working he could just walk to the Cathedral. He took his sleeve away from his head, it was soaked with blood. He grimaced and hoped he didn’t look like too much of a bloody wreck, he didn’t need the cops talking to him right now, he just wanted to be left alone. A cloud passed over the sun and for a moment the breeze picked up and he shivered in the cool air and started walking. He didn’t want to get caught in a thunderstorm on the way to the Cathedral, that would just make his day.

Shouldering his pack more comfortably he checked the street for cars and began making his way to the laundromat. He didn’t see the two shadows that ghosted along the walls of the alley he had just left nor the two pairs of eyes that watched him coldly from the top of the apartment building.

He cursed softly when he saw Tammy’s car in the parking lot and calling her every name he could think of he continued past the building on his way to the Cathedral. The sky was darkening above him and the gusts of wind had been coming more and more frequent and violent. There was going to be one hell of a storm tonight and he was still an hour and a half away from the Cathedral. He started walking faster, hoping to beat the weather. He was also hoping to ditch the nagging feeling that someone was watching him.

He checked over his shoulder, aside from a couple of cars stopped at a red light and a couple making out in the shadows of an alley the street was deserted. Carefully he scanned the windows of the various businesses that lined the street, he owed some people money and he didn’t want to get a surprise beating from some of their thugs. Still he saw nothing. Sighing he looked ahead again and broke into a light jog. The sky was getting darker, almost black in the distance and the cheery blue sky was rapidly losing ground.

The Cathedral stood silhouetted against the black sky, its soaring towers and flying buttresses(1) giving the otherwise stocky building elegance and grace as it stood once again against nature’s wrath. Jimmy hurried up the front steps as fat raindrops began to fall and the wind howled. The massive, solid oak doors swung open easily on their various well oiled hinges and finally he was safe inside. He leaned against the door and closed his eyes, his head was starting to throb and he could feel it seeping. He raised his bloody sleeve to it once again and hoped to stop the bleeding before it could drip onto the polished marbled floor.

The Cathedral didn’t look very big from the outside, but inside the high vaulted ceilings gave the illusion that the place was massive. The worn wooden pews could hold close to a thousand people when it was at capacity. Jimmy wished the place was packed with people, the air was a little chilled but then again, he really didn’t want to smell that many people. He stepped away from the door and walked quietly to the front where it wasn’t as dim; he could move to the back when he was ready to sleep.

Dropping his pack off in one of the pews he carefully made his way over to a small alcove next to the dais where the main alter resided. This space was reserved for a smaller alter dedicated to Mary. He shuffled to the front, almost embarrassed by his disheveled appearance, and sat in the second pew. Without really thinking about it he reached up and pressed his hand against the large silver cross against his heart.

The cross was under his shirt, in his neighborhood you hid anything that could be even remotely valuable, but it had been his grandmother's and he kept it close at all times. When she had first given it to him he had only worn it around her because the thing was just so big it looked gaudy, but after she had passed he had started wearing it more and more until it became part of his daily ensemble. His grandmother had probably been the only person in the world that had thought he could be something other than a drunk or a hopeless addict.

He finally looked up at the alter and silently wished for one thing, anything, to go right for him just once. With his luck though his mother had already called the cops and claimed domestic abuse and he’d be sitting in jail before the day was over. He scowled and looked down again.

There were days he sincerely hated everyone and everything and wished the whole world would burn or some kind of plague would wipe the earth clean of humanity. He was sick of the world and he was sick of his life, he pulled his knees up to his chest and glared viciously at the back of the pew in front of him.

Another part of him though knew that he could make things better for himself. He was already saving every bit of his money so he could get out of his current apartment and get out on his own. He just had to keep his head above water until he had enough, he was close now, he’d been working his ass off for almost two years and by the end of the school year he would have enough money to get an apartment and pay the first three months of rent. He was going to fight his way out of the slums and make something of himself, something good, something that would shut his worthless mother up for good.

He felt a little better when he thought about getting his own apartment and a small smile even tugged his lips but didn’t quite emerge. He looked up at Mary again and murmured a small thank you; she always made him feel better. No matter what his mother or the kids at school had done she always gave him that little bit of hope he needed to get through another day, another week, another month, another year. He got up and left the small alcove and walked back to the main room.

The massive alter at the front of the room intimidated him, the soaring arches topped by a cross with Mary holding baby Jesus below it was just too much. He preferred Mary’s simple alter, her figure surrounded by melted candles and a small arch. Maybe it was just Jesus in general that intimidated him. He rolled his eyes at that thought and went back to the pew where he’d dropped his bag off and sat down heavily.

His head was throbbing incessantly and outside thunder rumbled angrily, above him he could faintly hear the ‘whoosh’ of the wind and rain and he was happy he was inside somewhere. He shoved his pack to the corner of the pew and lay down and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be better, he would make it better.

Hidden in the shadows above three dark figures stare down at the human as he drifts into sleep; the smaller two smile devilishly at each other while the bigger one continues to stare impassively at the boy. Behind the alter, hidden in the shadow of the organ two more also watch the boy fall asleep, their faces stay blank as they patiently wait for the deacons and priests to leave for the night.

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(1)Flying Buttress- It’s an architectural term; basically a flying buttress is a small arch that helps distribute the weight of larger arches and makes them more stable. And it’s a lot of fun to say. ^_^

A/N: I’m giving Zack a break in this fic and I’m going to torment Jimmy ‘cause he seems to get off easy, lol. Thanks for reading and reviewing!
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Waking the Fallen