Hello there! This is a request I got... who knows how long ago. It is a companion to The New Kid! If you haven't read it, don't worry, this story will just be a bit more suspenseful, I guess. But, if you want to be a little less confused, reading The New Kid would certainly be of help.

Okay...

Please don't kill me...

Enjoy!

"Please... please don't do this! I'll do anything! Please!"

Anthony covered his ears as best he could. He was shaking and holding his breath, begging for it all to go away. He didn't want to let the cries out. He didn't want anyone to hear him. He screwed his eyes shut tight and pressed himself into his brother's chest. Arms wrapped around him and held him tightly.

It was a woman this time. One with long red hair and deep brown eyes. His father called her a whore. One without a real reason to live. But Anthony knew better than that. Everyone had a reason to live. No one should be allowed to scream like she was. Like they all did. They shouldn't have to beg for mercy at the beginning, only giving up and begging for death by the end.

Hands held his own over his ears, creating a thicker barrier between his brain and the awful noises. The evil man was torturing her with his silence. Not speaking, only sharpening a knife on the other side of the room.

Vinnie was begging him to let them out. To let them go upstairs. He only glared at them, continuing in his work and ignoring his sons, forcing them to watch in agonizing horror. The woman begged. She screamed. She spoke of a child. Unborn and innocent. But the man simply did not care.

Anthony whimpered. He didn't understand why this happened. Why his father did this. Why he had to watch. He just wanted to get out. He hated the screams and the way they all inevitably ended in a deafening silence.

She was in a box. One that the small boy had seen the inside of before, if only for a few hours of the evil old man trying to get him to scream. He'd seen the stains of blood and the nail scratches inside. He'd seen the ways people had tried to suffocate themselves before their captor could hurt them anymore. Anthony had seen it all. All the different ways the man liked to torture and kill.

"Vinnie..." The child breathed, terrified by the woman's pleads for her life. Terrified for the way his father's eyes gleamed with wonder and curiosity. And when that knife was lifted from its place against those rocks, the child turned in the embrace he was in. He buried his face in his big brother's chest, letting the older boy wrap him up and protect him. But suddenly, with a blood curdling scream of the woman inside a wooden coffin, those arms no longer felt safe. And as everything else faded away, Anthony crawled out of those arms and turned to face him. "Vinnie...?"

His big brother's face was contorted into a crazed daze. A menacing smile took up almost his whole face and his bright blue eyes were wide, not blinking. Almost dead. "Don't leave, Tony... you have no where else to go." The words echoed in the child's ears as suddenly he was in a different basement. One that he would spend countless nights locked inside.

The door was slammed and Anthony was left with nothing but the sickening image of the devil taking his big brother. The one who'd always promised to protect him. The one he missed dearly everyday of his life. He could hear screams of a woman above him. Not dying. Little Anthony didn't want to think about what tortures she would be put through that night. So he ran to a corner and curled into himself, shoving his hands over his ears and trying desperately to block out the noise. To make it all go away.

That was when he heard it.

"Race!"

Anthony flinched. The name was familiar. As was the voice. But it was all so far away.

"Race, wake up! C'mon, kid!"

He screamed as the entire world around him began to fall apart. And suddenly, echoes of violent last screeches could be heard as they fought for their lives. As they desperately begged him- a small child- for help. It was loud, painful even. And before Anthony knew it, his head was exploding in pain, the begging and shouting and creepy laughs simply too much for him to bare. He felt like he was drowning. And the noise wouldn't stop, only growing louder. Until-

"Race!"

Racetrack sat up bolt right, coughing and heaving hard as he desperately clawed for air. He couldn't breathe. It was all too much. He could vaguely feel a thin blanket pooled around him, but for the life of him he couldn't see it. His vision was clouded with horrified tears and he held back a sob as he clutched for the blanket, his knuckles going white at the grip.

He could feel the eyes on him, boring into him as he panicked, gasping for air. He didn't dare look up, hearing the whispers of what they should do and their shocked murmurs of pity. He couldn't move, frozen in fear; Completely paralyzed. That is, until someone's gentle fingers brushed up against his knees. In blind hysterics, Race shoved whoever it was trying to hurt him away. He scrambled backwards, desperate to get away. All he managed was creating a loud thud as he hit the floor.

It all hurt so bad. The visions he'd seen flashed in his mind and the screams echoed in his ears, ending in his own. Grasping at his own blond curls, he futilely attempted to claw the vivid nightmare from his brain as blood seemed to enter his line of sight. All he could see was blood and he felt nauseous at the illusion.

Only... it wasn't.

As his vision began to become real again, he saw the red substance on his hands. Immediately, he began to feel lightheaded. If it wasn't for a familiar voice speaking above the memories of the terrified screams, Race may have been lost in another nightmare.

"Racetrack... it's me... it's Jack, ya hear?" The blond boy fought to tear his eyes away from his hands. There wasn't much of it. But that red color made Race lose it. So when he looked up at the boy that had promised to be his brother so long ago, his breaths only quickened.

There was a thin red waterfall streaming from the older boy's nose. He didn't seem to notice or care at the moment. His hands were up as a sign of surrender and peace while he carefully lowered himself to his knees in front of his friend. "Calm down, kid. Breathe..." Jack whispered. "It's okay..."

Race twitched from lack of oxygen and Jack's eyes widened before he took a gasp of air, trying and failing to hold back the sobs that wanted to take over his body. "Jack-" he choked, cutting himself off, ignoring the fact that every boy in the Lodge was watching him, scared for him.

Or of him. Race shuddered.

"Racer, I'm okay... ya didn't mean it. It's alright..."

He didn't know if it was alright. Still trembling and nauseous, he looked around, finding everyone simply staring at him. He felt so exposed at that moment. Like they knew. Like they knew who he really was and where he'd come from. Without a word, he shot up off the ground and reached for a box under his bed. With a cigar and a light in his hand, the shaken boy made a run for the window, shoving it open and closed behind him as he let himself breathe in a bit of fresh air on the fire escape before filling his lungs with the smoke it longed for.

Those images wouldn't leave him alone. He sat next the window, his back against the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. He tried to block them out. Block everything out. The screams and the fears. The way his brothers piercing blue eyes looked with that vicious, possessed smile of his.

"You have no where else to go..."

Race whimpered and dropped his prized cigar, his hands flying up to his ears as he tried to make it stop. His eyes slammed shut but that didn't stop him from seeing faces everywhere. Men, women... children. The children were never on purpose. Only substitutes for whoever the evil man had really been after. But that never stopped him from going at his stupid experiments with them.

They never lasted long.

The traumatized boy jumped a foot in the air when he heard a small tap beside him on the window, his hands not doing much to block out the noise. But when he saw Jack inside, his entire body relaxed immediately. It wasn't seconds before Jack was by his side, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling the trembling kid into his side.

"I-I'm sorry..." Race brokenly apologized, noting that the blood indeed was gone. But Jack just shook his head.

"Kid... ya didn't know who I was. Ya had a nightmare. These things happen," he encouraged, smiling down at his brother. But the boy was still shaking. He was still terrified. So Jack sighed. "Wanna talk about it?"

Frantically, Racetrack shook his head. "N-no... I wanna forget it..." he spoke stubbornly, yet his voice still trembled and his eyes stung with tears.

The matter wasn't pressed any more. And Race found himself able to clear his mind for a minute, slowly reaching back to reality with his brother's arm around him. He felt safe there. His hands found the cigar he'd dropped moments earlier and he brought the thing back up to his lips, feeling himself calm at the smoke that entered his body and warmed him up.

That was when the bell started ringing.

Disappointment was shown as Race's body slumped forward. He was exhausted. If anything, he wished he had a few more minutes of sitting alone with Jack. But that damn bell had to ruin everything. So he sat still as Jack lightly slapped him on the back and stood to his feet. "C'mon, pal. Them papes won't sell themselves..."

Reluctantly, Race complied. And into the Lodge they went to get ready for the day.

To say Jack was worried was an understatement. He could hear the screams through the floor even before Specs had come running. Race hadn't had such a nightmare in months.

Their secret had been kept. It had been kept for years. No one questioned anything. No one knew who Race really was. And no one knew that Jack was harboring him, protecting him from people who would likely want to do more than just hurt him. People with vendettas and the law on their side. People like the Spider. So they were careful. So very careful.

But it couldn't last forever.

"50 papes." Jack watched his younger friend slap the coins down on the table. He wasn't himself that day. It was clear to all the boys. But no one dared question that. Because their second in command was a hothead. Asking questions might've just pushed him over the edge. So Jack let him walk away while he bought his own papes, ignoring the Delanceys when they tried to get a rise out of him, instead choosing to run after his friend and knock his cap down over his eyes.

A small smile made its way to Race's lips at that. And be bumped Jack with his shoulder, playfully. "I swear I'm fine, Kelly," he said.

Jack nodded. "I know." And that was it. Then Jack slung an arm around Race's shoulders as they made their way through the gates, ready for the day ahead of them.

Or not.

It was a slow day. Maybe that was because Race was having trouble paying attention to the world around him rather than the world of his past. He could still see it all so vividly. The terrible visions would always haunt him.

Always.

They had for years. Mostly he would wake up with a hand over his mouth, desperate to keep him quiet and prevent him from spilling his secrets out. Then he'd latch onto Jack and let his big brother calm him before they went back to sleep. It was the same old routine. But that morning... it was bad.

Race tried to forget about it. He tried to remind himself that every newsie had a past. Most of them were told. He knew their stories. But his was to remain a mystery to them. That's just the way it had to be.

The poor kid trudged along the streets. He sold a pape every now and again. He liked the way the coins felt in his pocket. But it wasn't exactly enough to make a living. So he continued on. He had to. If he didn't, he'd be sleeping on the streets. He'd be caught by the-

"Leave me alone!" Race froze. He knew that voice. "I didn't do nothin'!"

Oh hell no...

Race dropped his papes and took off running. Sure enough, in an alleyway was where he saw the scene that made panic shoot through his entire body.

"Stop fighting, brat! Don't make this harder than it has to be!" The bulls were closing in. Backing a very small, very innocent boy into a wall, cuffs dangling from their evil hands, their stone hearts not beating as the terror ran through that small kid.

"Romeo..." Race was about to stop it. He was about to take on the bulls, three to one. If it hadn't been for a low, quiet whistle at the other end of that tiny alleyway, he would've done it. That whistle... it was a newsie code. One that Race wished he hadn't heard. But his terrified eyes tore away from his little brother- the one he himself had found shivering in the snow- and found his big brother, sneaking his way behind some dumpsters.

Everything about this made Race's blood run cold. He could hear screams in his head. No no no no no... not Jack... not the Refuge... not again... Jack was gonna distract them so Race could get Romeo out of there. Jack was gonna get himself caught. Jack was going to get hurt again. The Spider hated Jack.

The blond boy felt himself shaking with anticipation. Shaking with adrenaline of what he was about to do. Because Jack was about to run up behind them. So Race did the one thing he vowed never to do. The one thing he promised Jack he wouldn't do. He brought attention onto himself.

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

Jack froze. No... His forest green eyes were huge and terrified as he tore his gaze from little Romeo and found that Racetrack, the one boy that Jack had always had trouble protecting, stepped into plain sight. His brother was an idiot. And that could be the thing that would get him killed. Please, God... no...

"Well, well, well..."

Jack couldn't breathe. The world was taunting him. Teasing him. Trying to break him. He shoved himself further back into his hiding place at that voice and lost sight of the scene, hating himself for the terror that surged through his entire body.

Race had half a mind to turn and run. What the hell are you doin', Higgins?! Get out! He was taught to survive. Survive. When things start to get bad, get out. Survive. Run. Get away! But his legs wouldn't move. His little brother was standing just inches away from him and the little boy was terrified. The kid was shaking and Race was powerless to stop that. But he'd be damned if he was about to let the man stepping out of the carriage take him away.

Snyder.

His shoulders tensed as the man walked to him. He was surrounded and he knew it. But he couldn't move. Couldn't attempt to fight his way out. Not until he saw it. Romeo. The kid slipped away. He ran for his life, clearly terrified and hoping Race would just be able to miraculously follow him. It wasn't until hands began touching him that the hotheaded Italian did what he did best. He started making stupid decisions. He pushed against them. He shoved them backwards. Suddenly there was no other good description for how Race felt other than like a caged animal.

"Aww what do we have here?"

Helplessly, Racetrack pushed against the three guards around him only to get his arms seized. He was held at the wrists and the forearms. He was closed in, a man on all sides of him and a Spider standing with a sick smirk on his face right in front of him.

The sixteen year old had never felt so small in his life. As his chin was grabbed, he struggled. The grips they had on him only tightened. "No..." the man breathed in disbelief. Race could feel the hot breath on his skin. He could smell the rum and smoke. He tried to wrench his face away from the man, but Snyder would not let go. His dark, evil eyes were wide in amazement as if he'd just made a discovery. It was as if he was about to cage an animal that people had never believed existed. "It can't be..."

The child tried to fight. The grip hurt and the men were too close. He wasn't getting out of this. He was trapped. It was all over.

Out of the corner of his eye, Race could see him. He could see Jack. The older boy was crawling out of his hiding place, utterly terrified. All Race could do was let the tears fall as their eyes locked for a second. He wanted to tell him... Thank you... thank you for saving me, Jackie... goodbye, big brother... But it was too late. The grin was splitting into Snyder's face. So he let the tears fall as the man reached for his cuffs.

"You're a spitting image..."

Race gasped as metal tightly pinched his skin. He flinched as they secured more cuffs around his ankles. He was sure he could hardly walk with them on, much less run.

"Take him away!"

"No!" The scream was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Jack was standing by then, watching as they dragged away the boy he vowed to protect no matter what. And Race shook his head at him, unable to move anything else as Snyder dropped his chin. All he could do was mouth a small apology before he quickly tripped the guard that made a move to get to the older boy across the alleyway.

Snyder shook his head as Jack jerked backwards. One of his guards fell flat on their face as the boy in his clutches somehow managed to slid his foot out far enough to trip him. As much as he hated that Kelly boy, this was much too important. So he grabbed onto the back of the fallen man's shirt and hauled him up. "Get him out of here. This'll be all for today."

And that was all the warning Race got before he watched his brother fade from view as he was shoved into the back of a steal carriage; One with prison bars across the windows and chains dangling from the walls. Before he could protest, dangerous hands shoved him down onto a seat and he was suddenly trapped between the corner and a man that surely wanted him dead, much like the rest of the world.

"Stay quiet, rat. You don't want to make things worse before they've started."

Race cowered at the threat. All he could do was stare straight at the ground, letting tears fall from his eyes. The boy didn't protest when a hood was pulled over his head. He just shook as whimpered as the prison car began moving.

This was the end. And Race knew it...

His hand brushed up against her cheek as it shook. It was all too clear to him. He could see it all. Her auburn hair that framed her once happy and light face. Her unseeing green eyes that used to stand out against perfect skin. A lost smile that had been forced away from a girl; Once a light of sunshine, now only a beautiful, golden memory. One that hurt to think about it.

Grey skin faded behind bright red cuts and horrible bruises. She lay lifeless on the cold, hard ground, her own blood surrounding her with wounds she hadn't been able to stop. Fingernails were missing and fingers were sliced open. Her lip was caked with dried blood as was her left ear.

Once upon a time, she had been the girl that every man would turn to as she walked into the room. Beauty and poise radiating off of her like she was a new star. One that had so much time left to burn and glow.

"Sophia..." Saying her name was like getting stabbed in her heart with realization that she wouldn't respond.

"Is this your sister?"

His baby sister. Sophia. The little girl that he had protected with everything he had. The one he'd argue with and banter with because they never saw eye to eye. The one that he'd loved. The only thing in the world he cared for at all. Everyone and everything else be damned. Sophia was his light.

Tears in his eyes were stinging and beginning to pool. But he refused to cry. Not with officers still there. Not with his fellow men still watching him, knowing full well this would change things. Knowing full well who this young woman was.

"Who did this?" It was a growl. The sorrow leaving him all too quickly and being replaced with anger. Sophia... she wasn't supposed to die. She wasn't supposed to be dead.

Silence only made the man more furious. He pulled away fast and turned to the men, his face most likely going red. "Who?!" he demanded, more desperate than before.

One officer looked to another. They shared a look of heartbreak and fear. The man glared back and forth between them before they sighed and one finally muttered, "Higgins strikes again..."

Tomorrow's headline for sure. One that would be sold in a flash.

Higgins...

The man almost vomited then and there. But he couldn't. He was strong. He always had been. And now, the only good part of his life was gone. The only light in a sea of dark was faded and blown out. Gone.

He had no need to be soft anymore.

"Find him." The command was so obvious it would be funny in any other situation. But then, right then, it was said too dangerously and lowly to be joked about. And it was clear that those two words would be what the man lived by from that day on.

It was all he could think when that coffin was lowered into the ground and he began burying her. And when it was done, all that was left were meaningless roses and letters saying that she would be missed. It didn't matter. Because she wasn't coming back. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything he'd worked for in life was now six feet beneath him, pained and alone and not done living yet. She shouldn't have been done living yet.

He stood there. He could see it too clearly. It was supposed to be a nightmare. But when the rain started falling, it was painfully real. He wasn't opposed to the downpour. After all, it masked his mourning and pathetic weaknesses.

And all he could do was stare at the stone that marked her resting peace. "In Loving Memory of a Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend...

Sophia Snyder..."

Snyder smirked at his prey, in his clutches for the first time. And damn if felt good. He was gonna pay. Somebody had to pay. And this boy was the perfect picture of his father. The one who'd taken her from him. The one that had heartlessly put her six feet under.

He'd lost track of how long he'd been looking for one of them. One of the man's sons. For surely, even monsters had to have something they held dear. And this little boy had to be it. It had to be him.

He watched as they beat him. He smiled as he screamed and laughed when he begged them to stop. The boy was terrified. What Snyder wouldn't have given to see the boy's father do the same. To hear his pleads as he wasted away. But eventually, Snyder knew what he had to do. What would be even more satisfying.

"Enough!" And they threw the child down into the chair across from him. Snyder grinned.

The man stared him down and Race sat there, making it a point not to look him. He felt so vulnerable. So exposed. Like the man could see right through him. So he fiddled with the cuffs that held his hands close together. The ones that made it hard to fight his way out.

"Breathe, kid. I know it feels like you're trapped, but you're okay..."

Jack's voice echoed in his brain. The only thing keeping him calm in the silence. Only this time, he was trapped. This time, Jack wasn't able to get him out of the Spider's reach. This time, Race was scared.

"Anthony Higgins..."

The name send chills down Race's spine. His head spun as he reminded himself to breathe. He tried his best not to react. He did everything he could to remain calm and collected. But the pounding of his head made that difficult. And the aching of his limbs made the tears hard to hold back.

"That ain't my name..." he whispered, terrified of being too loud. Terrified of being punished for something he didn't do. Just like always...

A cynical laugh was what he got in response. The newsboy flinched when something slammed down on the desk on front of him. He didn't dare look at it. His hands were far more interesting. Those cuffs were digging into his thin wrists. There were exactly three chains in between them, holding them close together, immobilizing him just enough to make him feel helpless as a man- bigger and stronger than him- circled him, like a lion stalking its prey. He quickly realized the mistake he'd made when a fist latched onto his hair and forced him forward. He gritted his teeth together. He wouldn't scream. Not if it gave that man pleasure. Pain was less important than keeping in the fear.

His head was exploding in pain. He could feel blood seeping down the side of his face and dripping onto what had been slammed down on the desk for him to see. Red stood out brightly against an old newspaper. One that Racetrack had seen so many times. "You mean to tell me..." The man's voice was rough and smelled of alcohol. The boy did his best not to gag. He had no choice but to watch the man angrily point to the picture on the page that Race wished beyond anything he could forget about. "That, isn't you?"

It was like looking in a mirror. Only the mirror reflected back a younger version of him. But the look in his eyes was equal in every way. Lost, terrified, helpless... trapped.

The picture was a memory he'd live with forever. He remembered that day. He was being chased. He had been alone and wide eyed when the flash had blinded him. If it wasn't for a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him away, Race was sure he would have been a goner.

But Vinnie wasn't here to pull him out of danger now. Not that he even would if he could. Because Vinnie wasn't the brother Race liked to remember. Not the one who protected him and held him close. No, because that job had been taken.

Staying stubbornly silent, Race tried to focus on anything but the pain. But it wasn't long before his face was shoved down onto the desk he was held over. The boy let out a cry before his hair was pulled back and he was forced to look up. For a moment, he was blind. Tears pricked at his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling before his view was obscured by his captor.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you, boy!" Race hissed. He squinted his eyes as much as he could, trying to ease the pain in his head, only succeeding in making it worse. But the way the man glared at him made a bit of his defiance shine through as he could only glare back.

"Go ta hell!" he spat through clenched teeth. All that got him was a cruel smack across his cheek. The fist in his hair did not loosen. Not until his head was thrown backwards and the man started circling him once again, his eyes traveling up and down the boy who did everything he could to not squirm in his seat.

The man watched his captive. It was clear in his eyes that he was beyond terrified. As he should be. After years of searching, he finally had him. "It would serve you well to learn some respect, young Anthony." He stopped in front of the boy. He was a spitting image... So Warden Snyder smiled and kneeled down to him, seizing his wrists in his hands and grinning wickedly as he clicked the cuffs tighter around the kid's wrists. "Or else things might become worse for you..."

Race didn't dare look the man in the eyes. "He don't got no soul. His eyes is empty an' if ya look in 'em, he can see you's is scared."

Stories from the Refuge always kept the boys up at night. Race was always wide awake after Jack told them. He'd been there too many times and that much was clear to Race. After all, a lot of those times it had been to protect him.

"If they catch you, Race... if Snyda' catches you..."

Jack had never had it in him to finish that sentence. It always ended with him reaching through the bars of the windows to caress his cheek and run a hand through his hair.

Race tried to get lost in the memory. He tried to imagine that Jack was there, telling him it was all okay. But that was hard when the hands in his hair weren't there to calm him down and tell him his big brother was there watching out for him. They were there to render him powerless.

"I told ya, that ain't my name..." the boy mumbled. He wanted to struggle, but as the cuffs were now tighter than they had been before, even the slightest movement would cause him nothing but pain. But when his chin was grabbed and forced up, his hands slipped and he could do nothing but let out a choked cry.

Jack was right. The man's eyes were practically dead. And Race felt his blood run cold. He was terrified. And there was no hiding it anymore. "Then tell me, boy..." That tone was icy and dangerous. And Race tried to make himself stop shaking when Snyder gestured to one of his men. The door opened but Race didn't turn. His wrists and ankles hurt too bad. He was sure that blood wasn't reaching his hands and feet anymore. But then something was dropped to the ground. Something big and heavy that made the child flinch. "This doesn't look familiar to you?"

Before the boy could protest, his chin was shoved to the side. And horror seemed to fill up the entire room, drowning the child before he even realized what was about to happen. He was too busy struggling to keep memories away.

"Please! Let me out! You don't wanna do this!"

"I have a family! They need me!"

"¡Por favor! ¡Haré lo que sea!"

"Mama! Papà!"

Race couldn't breathe. He couldn't feel that his entire body was shaking. In fact, his entire body went numb as he shoved himself as far away from the coffin that lay in front of him. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles would never hurt as much as his past. His back hit the wall and everything started closing in on him when he realized there was no where else to go.

Snyder grinned as his prey gave himself away. After all, it was only a box. A crate big enough for an average man to be able to lay down inside. But there would be no wiggle room. It was a box that had a story that came with it. One that made a sixteen-year-old boy relive memories of his past.

The boy looked like a mouse caught in a trap. His eyes were wide and petrified. Those blue orbs were staring at that godforsaken box across the room. His nails dug into his knees in attempt to keep him calm. But nothing worked. And Snyder couldn't help but chuckle at the reaction.

"Wh-where...?" Race was breathless, his was heart racing as he couldn't tear his eyes away from the old wooden thing on the ground. "Where did you get that...?" It filled him to the brim with horrific memories of screams and pleads and desperation. The lid was closed but Race could see into it anyways. He saw so many pairs of lifeless eyes and dried tears and raw hands and feet. But most of the time... they hadn't even been gone yet. Most of the time the man that laughed at their cries wasn't even finished. He had more in store for them. More ways to put them through hell before he vowed to send them there for good.

The laugh that he got in response sent chills through his whole body. "You tell me, Mr. Higgins." Race's blue eyes shot up to meet the cruel brown ones that stared him down. This time, the tears rolled down his cheeks and he couldn't stop them. His cuffed hands were up in front of his chest and his knees were brought up just the same. Race wanted to hide. He wanted everything to stop. So he closed his eyes and hide his face in his knees, not prepared for the images that his brain was about to show him.

All he could see was a dark basement. No windows and a hidden door that he couldn't find by himself. A shadow lurked in the corner and banging was heard, even as he covered his ears as tightly as he could.

"It's okay, Tony... I'll get us out of here..."

The little boy shook his head as sobs wracked his body. And then he closed his eyes tight to try and block it all out. But he opened them up to find that shadow staring back at him with deadly blue eyes.

"Stop!"

"Stop!" Race cried, begging Snyder to leave him alone. "Please! Get it away! Please... I-" Race stopped. He was breathing hard. He grasped his hands in his hair and buried his face in his knees. "I can't..." his voice broke as he begged. Snyder didn't have any idea the memories he was digging up. Ones that Race had locked away. Ones that he made sure not to think about when he was around his brothers. The ones who trusted him. The one's who couldn't know.

But Snyder's hand grabbed onto his wrists, making the boy in his grasp cry out as the metal dug into his already torn skin. "Get up!"

He didn't have a choice. Three men were there against him. Three men were there grabbing onto his arms and legs. And suddenly, Race knew what Snyder was playing at. He knew the plan and he knew the end game.

He wasn't making it back to Jack.

His pleads were eaten alive by laughs and commands for him to stop squirming. "No! Don't do this! I ain't done nothin'!" His voice was raspy and shook with every word. But his screams were loud and agonizing as that torturous box was opened. Chains locked him in place as he struggled vigorously against the men that lifted him off the ground and he was feeling more helpless by the second. Every step forced him closer to his own living nightmare and before he knew it, he was inside it, staring up at an evil man getting more and more rich by the second by ripping young children away from everything they knew.

The boy was heaving for air as he stared up at his captor from the crate, silently begging him to leave him alone. Instinctively, he tried to sit up, hearing an old voice screaming in his mind.

"No! Let him out! Please! I'm sorry! Tony!"

"Vinnie!"

"Vinnie!" Race screamed as he was shoved back down. He felt sobs wracking his entire body and he struggled to get out of his restraints. "Jack!"

"Stop fighting, rat! This is what you deserve!"

The child was frantic, constantly sitting up only to be pushed back down. His energy was fading fast. "No... please... I didn't do this..." It was all he could manage as Snyder glared at him, his false polite smile gone, replaced with bitterness and anger.

"That's what your father said." And that was the last thing Race heard. And the last thing he saw was accusing eyes of a man with a vendetta. Then the lid was slammed shut.

And Race couldn't breathe.

Jack paced the floor of the Lodge. He ran hands through his hair as he coached himself in breathing through the tears that were streaming down his face.

"Race, run!"

His own shouts echoed in his head. The ones he'd screamed so many times. It hurt. He winced and squated down to the ground. He could hardly hold himself up anymore. It was all too much.

Race never listened. Why couldn't Race just listen to him?

"Stay away from the bulls, Race. You see one, you get away!"

"C'mon, Kelly..." he hissed to himself. "Think, damn it..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to get to Race. He had to find his brother. He had to stop Snyder from-

No... he couldn't think it. That meant it could already be happening. That meant he could already be too late. He could already be too late! "Dammit!" He shoved the closest thing he could reach in the room. It was a table in the center of the room. The small, circular thing fell over without much of a fight. And the thud made Jack jump. He was hysterical. Absolutely distraught by the thoughts filling his mind; Race chained up in the basement, beaten and terrified and hardly able to move. His friend's head being shoved into a bucket full of water, forcing all the air out of his lungs. His brother screaming out for mercy as Snyder laughed over him.

Everything was spinning. "This can't be happenin'..." In his panic, his thoughts were too loud for him to hear the door creak open and small feet to pad across the floor before arms wrapped around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Jack..."

The older boy's heart broke. "It ain't your fault, kid... none of it..." Slowly, he turned around and lifted the ten-year-old kid off the ground. The boys big brown eyes were so watery. But Jack only caught a glimpse of them before the boy's face was pressed into the crook of his neck and he let the slow sobs come.

"I-I really didn' do nothin'..." he cried out. All Jack could do was rock him back and forth and bounce him up and down in his arms. Romeo was the baby of their rowdy family. The poor kid was too innocent to see the inside of that hellhole. "They's said I stole but I really didn't do nothin'..."

"I know, kid," Jack agreed, easily. Neither did Race... Truly. All that impulsive kid had ever done wrong was be born into the wrong family.

God, he had to get them out of there.

"Is Race gonna be okay?"

Jack's heart shattered as that little boy in his arms looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to tell him what he wanted to hear.

Lying was a dangerous thing to do.

"Yeah, pal..." Jack nodded, teary eyed. "Race'll be just fine..."

So he vowed to make sure he hadn't done just that to the small child he held. He would get Race out.

He didn't have a choice.

"Mi dispiace! Per favore, lasciami uscire! Non sono lui!"

Snyder grinned as he continued his paperwork. The coffin still lay in his office. The screaming child was enough to bring him entertainment as he did his work. The kid was banging on the wood, desperate to get out. As anyone would. That box was not a place one would want to be caught in.

Her hands had been raw when they'd found her. This proved his theory of why.

The wails, he was sure, were being heard throughout the building. That kid had been begging for hours, by then. And Snyder didn't give a damn. It was clear to him that soon, all he'd be able to hear would be sniffles and quiet sobs until the kid wore himself out. Couldn't be long now.

"Non sono lui!" Race screamed, his face soaked with pained, terrified tears. His wrists were a bloody mess. The cuffs dug into them as he frantically pounded on the ceiling of his prison. He hated tight spaces. The reason, of course, was none other than the tiny box he was trapped in now. "Non sono lui..." He wasn't him. He hadn't done anything wrong. Only watched helplessly as the wrongs had been done. It wasn't his fault...

That's what Jack always said. It was what Jack always said when he woke up screaming a name he'd never forget. He'd never forgotten any of their names. In fact, him and Vinnie had tried to help them escape. They had. But it was no use. They were always caught and then one of them would be punished.

He used to tell them he loved them. That he was doing all of this to make the world a better place. He was sick. He had to have been. That's why his mama left. It had to be why. He was sick and there was no way of helping him.

Race shivered at the thought of his mother. That bloody thought... the gory sight was engraved in his mind forever. He knew what people did to Higgins'. He'd seen it with his own young, once slightly innocent eyes. And he was scared.

"Please..." the child whispered out. He got no response. "Ple-ease..." he whimpered a bit louder, his kicks and hopeless fits dying down. "I'll do whateva' ya wan'... just lemme outta here..."

The grin on the Spider's face was incomparable. He let his pen fall onto his desk as he pushed his chair out and slowly made his way over to the box. "I want you to suffer, like all of those people did. The ones that your father murdered for no good reason!"

Race flinched. It was no use trying to hide it anymore. He was a Higgins. The youngest. The one who would carry the guilt with him until the day he died.

"Who did he take from you?"

Racetrack may have been an idiot, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. No one would go through such lengths as to get this specific crate of torture, if not for revenge. Revenge was all Race knew anymore. No matter how long he spent with his boys, he was still raised by a maniac. He had enemies that shouldn't have been his own. And that was terrible and frightening in itself.

"What was their name?" he asked a bit louder at the stunned silence he got in response. Admittedly, Snyder was a bit taken back at the question. He simply stared at the box with three locks on each side of it. He could practically hear her scream for release. Beg for her freedom. It wasn't fair. "I can tell you everything. What they said... how they looked... wh-what he did to them..."

He couldn't forget. He wanted to more than anything else. To forget the names and the faces and the voices. But he couldn't. It was all too much for a child barely sixteen years of age to bare.

Snyder didn't care. He leaned down to the box, pulling his knife out of his back pocket. Without warning, he stabbed the thing through the wood, earning a bloodcurdling cry from the frightened boy beneath him. "Burn in hell, you rat." And with that, he left his office, satisfied for the time being and ready to play with another one of the many children he'd ripped away from the world.

The end.

Okay I'm just kidding! There is indeed a part two to this ;) It was just a very long one shot and I figured I should split it up a little bit.

I will update this either as soon as I get up to 25 reviews, or I loop back around. My system is that I update every story in order of which one I updated the longest ago and then I write a request in between each. So... could be this week or in a month or two ;) Please leave a review! truly they mean the world to me. I was scared to leave reviews at first, actually, but then I realized that authors actually enjoyed my input. Thank you all so much!

Thank you selizabethharrisburg for this request that I absolutely had to write. Sorry it took so long. Love ya!

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, kids!