A/N: TW: suicidal ideation

listen to Putting the Dog To Sleep by The Antlers (starting at about 1:00) for extra pain


There's electricity in the air tonight. David can practically taste it, can feel it running up and down his arms like spiders. It's an odd sensation. He isn't sure if it's good or bad.

Jack releases a long stream of smoke into the air. He's leaning on the fire escape, with the upper half of his body stretched over the railing as far as he can go without falling off. Right now, he reminds David of a painting, all of his colors standing out against a gray sky. If he had any of Jack's skill with art, this would be the first thing David captured on a canvas.

"I got a job at a factory," Jack says suddenly. "I won't be around as much." He looks over to David. David swallows.

"Okay."

He doesn't say anything else, because there's nothing else he can say. He knew Jack wouldn't be a newsie forever. David wasn't even selling anymore, he'd been put back in school when his dad's arm had healed and was now working towards a degree in journalism. Denton had left more of an impact than he had expected.

"Kloppmann kicked me out of the house," Jack adds. He puts out his cigarette, grinding the end into the metal of the fire escape. "He's not allowed to hold kids over eighteen and I can't pass no more." David nods. It's been a long four years.

"I have room here."

He's lying. He can touch the stove from his bed if he tries hard enough and the heat doesn't come on half the time in the winter. But if Jack needs a place, David will do what he can.

"You're a terrible liar, Davey," Jack snorts. "Always have been." He sits down beside David, resting his back against the bars of the railing. "I got somewhere. Tony is letting me stay with him."

"Racetrack?" It's been awhile since David's heard his name, either one. It seems like just yesterday David was trusting the gambling addict to watch his baby brother.

"We're not kids anymore," Jack says sharply. David looks down, a lump swelling in his throat. He's sad. Why is he sad?

"We haven't been kids for a long time."

"Yeah." Jack laughs, but it sounds watery and forced. "Yeah."

"You don't have a job, do you?" David asks softly.

"I didn't want you to worry," Jack says, and that's all the answer David needs.

"I'll always worry."

Jack moves closer to David, leaning his head on David's shoulder. "There isn't a life for me, Dave. There's never going to be. People like me don't get the happy ending."

The two sit like that for a long time. There's something wet on David's face and he knows that it's tears, but he doesn't move to wipe them away. He doesn't want to break the spell that's settled on them because maybe, if he just stays still, they'll stay like this forever. Maybe Jack won't leave.

Jack pulls away.

"I have to go."

David stares at him, trying to memorize the lines of his face, the planes of his body, anything, everything. "Thank you." Jack nods, and it's jerky like some hidden puppeteer is forcing him to do it. David's next words spill out unplanned, but really, the entire night has been unplanned so who can blame him?

"I love you, Francis Sullivan."

Jack sucks in air like he's just been punched, his eyes squeezing tightly shut. Finally he looks back at David. "I know."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" David asks, and his voice seems small and childlike to him, too high and scared to be coming out of his mouth. "Carryin' the banner?"

"Carryin' the banner," Jack answers weakly, still remembering the farewell they'd exchanged so many times when they were younger.

Jack grabs a hold of David's hand like he wants to say something, but he stays silent instead. He pulls away. "Bye, David."

David watches Jack's retreating form and wishes he'd been brave enough to say what he wanted when it would've made a difference.


A/N: hey hmu on tumblr tiredtree ffor more newsies junk