Until I Met You (America x Chubby!Reader x Yandere!2P!America)

Meant to be Mine

If there really was a hell in the afterlife then Jason would gladly go knowing that he had lived as the only man [Name] ever loved.

Because no matter what happened, he loved her.

He would lay down his life, slit his own wrists, cut his own throat, if she asked him. The world could drown in flames and he wouldn't care as long as she was happy and safe, because she was the only thing his eyes could see.

He lived for her smile and her touch and her love, and if he couldn't have her then he would rather be dead, because she was his world and his everything.

Jason could never bring himself to hurt her, even when they hauled him into the police car and locked him up in that goddamned asylum he didn't blame her. She was afraid, he understood that, maybe he was a little rough but he would make it up to her somehow.

They'd ride drink cheap beer all night long, dance 'til dawn, and drive off into the sunset. Together.

That was what he thought. What he had hoped while stuck in Ravenhearst without receiving even a single fucking letter. He only had one valued possession while stuck in that ridiculous excuse for a hospital, and that was her favorite novel.

Wuthering Heights.

But then he realized that he was Heathcliff, broken and lost without his Catherine. And to be okay again he needed to be with her.

"Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you—oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?"

He could not live without his soul. He needed to wake up, break free, find it. Get it back.

Wake up from this stale nightmare. Break out of this prison. Find her. And after that the only thing keeping him sane were those two words "Find her" which he repeated so often and so eagerly in his head that the phrase merged into a single sound constantly repeating like a mad parrot. Finderfinderfinderfinderfinderfinder.

He kept her book with him whenever he could, it was also his single belonging aside from the clothes on his back that he carried when he escaped.

The news reports were wrong; there was no bomb. Just three open gas stoves, courtesy of a horny, virgin (not anymore) nurse with a key, and a lit match.

Oops.

During the commotion many of the other criminally insane attempted to escape, Jason was one of the lucky few who managed to sneak inside a doctor's car and stab her throat with a pencil.

He drove west until he reached Rosewood, where he disposed the car and body by dumping it into the harbor.

There were going to be a lot of burned, unidentifiable corpses once the fire had been dealt with, giving him a few hours—maybe days. So Jason, using the doctor's money, bought decent clothes and created himself a new identity (just for now at least).

He stayed the night at a run-down lodge where he dyed his hair and tried on a pair of contact lenses. Until he found his girl and left this state he was to be Allen "AJ" Johnson, like J.D., in honor of [Name]'s beloved 80s movie. (She giggled every time he called her Ronnie.)

"AJ" rose early the next morning to find himself a ride back to Torrington—he didn't know where [Name] was but he needed a place to start. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a single fucking bike in that entire town.