Hello friends! I'm back with another request! This one was from ariav1200. It was from a while ago, but I finally got it written out. I'm sorry for the wait!

Please enjoy!

They were both hotheaded. Both of them had the tendency to speak without thinking. But it worked somehow. Somehow, at the end of the day, they were still brothers. Somehow, at the end of the day, nothing mattered if they weren't working together, if they weren't talking to each other again.

It had never gotten this out of hand.

"No! What in the hell were you thinkin'?! I said no more, Race! N' I meant it!" Jack's voice rang out through the Lodging House. The older boys had long since herded the littles upstairs. They didn't need to listen to this.

"Gee, Ma, next time lemme run all my decisions passed you!" Race shot back, only fueling the fire as he crossed his arms over his chest and stood his ground. "I ain't gonna apologize ta you, Jackie boy!" he insisted, straightening up even more as he continued speaking. "You wasn't gonna do nothin'. They was gonna know you was goin' soft if I didn't-"

"Go off on your own n' make your own plans instead a' listen ta me and not engaging?!" To say Jack was furious was an understatement. His cheeks were growing red with fury as he spoke to his second. "You ain't in charge here, Race! You's supposed to be my second! You's supposed ta help me with keepin' the otha's safe! Not goin' behind my back n' talkin' ta Queens without tellin' no one where you was goin'!" In Jack's chest he could feel the worry eating at him. But it was coming out as pure anger. He couldn't stop it. "You coulda gotten yourself killed!"

The younger newsie scowled. "And what was you gonna do, huh?" he challenged dangerously. "Sit here? Pretend like Swing wasn't 'bout ta start a war? Ya know damn well we's was gonna have ta fight an' we ain't got a chance in winnin'!" It was a dark truth. Race didn't want to think about the casualties that there would be if Queens tried to take over. These were his brothers. He was just trying to protect them.

But Jack just shook his head. "You disobeyed a direct order, Anthony," he stated darkly. "No one crosses the border. No one engages with Queens! Do you have any idea what could've happen-"

"For someone who constantly says he ain't nothin' like Brooklyn, ya sound a hell of a lot like Spot right now," Race spit at him, clenching his jaw and daring to take a step forward. "If ya woulda just listened ta me in the first place we coulda been done with this a long time ago!"

Jack seethed. "Spot and I ain't nothin' alike! Spot woulda already been fightin' Swing n' ya know it! That's exactly what I's tryin' to avoid!" he shouted, his eyes only growing more and more angry as the fighting continued. "You have ta listen ta me right now, Higgins? I told ya no-"

"You's goin' soft, Jack! Queens knows it!" Race argued, getting even closer to the Manhattan leader. They were practically nose to nose now. "If I didn't go, you's woulda been anotha' face in the papes right now! I did what needed ta be done!"

"I had it under control," Jack continued, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't get to decide-"

"Like hell I don't, ya coward-"

Race hadn't seen it coming. Neither of them had. The smack seemed to echo throughout the entire house, bouncing off the walls as the two boys froze in the center of the main room. After that, everything was silent. No one dared breathe. The entire world seemed to stand still and the two boys couldn't move.

The younger of the two kids held his reddening cheek as his mouth hung open. He stared at the ground, trying to figure out what the hell just happened as too many memories passed through his brain. The other boy stared down at his hand with his green eyes open way too wide. He was watching it like it had moved without him telling it to. Like something had possessed it.

When he looked up at his second, a boy he thought of as a brother, he could see the shock in his eyes. And when he tried to step forward, Race scrambled backwards, tripping over some chairs that were in between the tables that were dispersed in the main room. He fell on his backside, pushing himself away until his back hit the wall. "Racer-" Jack tried, but the other newsie put a hand up, stopping him.

The Italian boy's whole body was trembling as he tried desperately to remember how to breathe. He was hit by a whirlwind of memories, too much for him to fully grasp into. He could hear drunken screams even through no one dared move a muscle. He felt things being poured on him, he felt people spitting at him, he heard the words over and over again.

"Don't talk back ta me!"

"You worthless bastard!"

"Who let you outta that room!"

"Piccola merda!"

Race was breathing hard. He couldn't look up. He was afraid he'd see them all over again. Dark rooms, chains on the walls, a single light in the middle of the ceiling. Only this time, he'd be on his own. No one would be waiting for him at the window. Maybe time would reverse further. Maybe he'd see cold blue eyes glaring down at him as he writhed around on the ground, dodging beer bottles before being held down as a cigarette was pressed to his skin, creating the circular scars that littered his entire torso.

Everything was a bit of a blur. Nothing was where it was supposed to be. Race couldn't figure out where he was. All he knew was that there was someone in front of him who had just hurt him. And they were trying to move towards him.

"Racer?" Jack didn't know what to do. This had never happened before. He'd never lashed out at one of his boys. He'd never raised a hand to any of them. He knew what it was like to be hit. He hadn't meant it. "Kid? Can ya hear me?" Suddenly every ounce of anger within him was gone. Suddenly Queens was on the other side of the world and all that was here was his little brother who was on the ground a few feet away from him, refusing to look up from his fetal position.

"Cosa ho fatto? Cosa ho fatto?" the kid mumbled. Jack only barely heard the child's voice until he stepped just a little too close. "Dimmi cosa ho fatto! Lo aggiusterò!"

Jack flinched at the cry. He knew he didn't have the right. He was the one who'd done this. It was his fault. "Racer, look at me," he tried. At that, the boy did. Jack felt his heart stutter in his chest when he saw those big blue eyes. "Kid-"

It was almost immediate. The way those terrified eyes made their way around the room, returning the kid to reality. And then the expression on that boy's face went from terrified, to confused, to angry the second his gaze landed on Jack. The older boy tried to reach his hand out. A silent apology. He hadn't meant it. He really hadn't. He'd known the life that Race had before the newsies. It was hard and cold and isolated and he continuously got the crap beat out of him. And Jack had just put him right back there.

His hand was shoved away as Race realized that all the older boys in the lodge were staring at him. Still trembling, he somehow shoved himself up, knocking a table on its side as he collapsed back against the wall as he tried to regain the ability to walk. Jack tried to reach out to help him again. But Race shoved him away again. "Don't touch me!" he spat sharply, glaring around at the room.

The younger boy could hardly keep standing when he truly felt all of their eyes on him. Without another word he stormed out of the room, up the stairs to his bunk where he climbed in and stayed for the rest of the night. His blanket was pulled up high, he squeezed his eyes shut.

He prayed no one saw the tears.

Jack, however, stayed glued to the spot. He stared in the direction hat the other boy had gone in pure shock. He felt like he couldn't breathe. It felt like years he stood there, completely dumbfounded and paralyzed. It wasn't until someone had the courage to speak his name that he snapped out of his daze.

"Jack?"

He didn't respond to the boy with the crutch who bravely went to stand behind him. He only barely turned around before he caught sight of the group of boys he was supposed to protect. Then he walked from the room. He didn't dare go up the same stairs that his second had. He went out and he climbed the fire escape, making his way up to his penthouse. Where he stayed for the rest of the night. He didn't speak when he heard Crutchie pull himself up the ladder and slide into his bed behind him.

Jack and Race were inseparable at a time. There was a time with Race was literally being carried around on Jack's back day in and day out. That was how he'd been brought to the Lodge in the first place. Straight out of The Refuge. With Jack. His leg hadn't been working and they hadn't had a crutch for him like they'd had for Crutchie. There was a time when Race never spoke. There was a time when the only person the kid would speak to was Jack. There was a time when Jack and Race were practically closer than brothers.

But the next day went on.

Jack didn't see Race all morning. He was already gone by the time he'd gone down to wake the boys. He couldn't help but be a little panicked until Albert told him that Race wanted an early start. That meant that the kid had, at the very least, been there that morning. So Jack went out as fast as he could, trying to catch the kid.

He didn't. Somehow, by the time he made it to the gate, Race was gone. And that night, when Jack knew Race typically got home, the boy never came through the front door. It wasn't until the Manhattan leader went to go through the window that he found the other kid, already pretending to be fast asleep in his bunk as he passed through.

Three days went by like that. Jack worried more than he cared to admit. Queens was still there. And while Race going over had made them pause a bit, Jack's lack of follow up was making them antsy. But not quite as antsy as he was.

For days Jack waited for the kid, knowing his usual spots and hide aways. For days the boy avoided him like the goddamn plague. All he had was the word of his boys to bring him peace and let him know that the kid was still alive. That's all he had and he grasped onto it tightly, taking on the full load of being the leader all alone for a few painful days.

It was hard without a second. Jack knew it would be. It was what Mickey always said before he left the Lodge. Being alone was no easy thing. Not with twenty some boys relying on him day in and day out.

Racer had always taken the load. Racer was always there to help. And now, Jack was alone with a guilt eating at him again and again. It hurt. He hadn't meant to hit his brother. It just happened. And that was no excuse.

That's why Jack was here.

"What the hell do ya want, Kelly?"

The other boy's voice made Jack's skin crawl. Race was right. He was being a coward. "I want ya ta stay offa my turf, Swing," he stated dryly. "I don't know what Racer told ya the otha' day, but clearly ya ain't gettin' the message. Ya got Queens, 'Hattan's mine." It was supposed to be simple. That's how the Newsies operated. Taking turf wasn't common or necessary. But it was power hungry kids that always made a big mess.

The other leader smirked at him from his throne. Swing was new at this. Their last leader had just gone and hadn't appointed another lead. Swing just happened to be the oldest and had easily overpowered anyone else who could've taken the position.

But Jack wasn't going to just ignore him anymore. He was one of the two borough leaders who could knock this kid down a peg. But Spot Conlon hadn't been brought into this yet. So here Jack was.

"Don't know, Kelly... Higgins told us that you an' your boys ain't ones ta be messed with. I take that as a challenge." Jack knew that that was a stupid thing for Race to say. But Race was always the confident one. He was the one who could spout his mouth and make people scared of Jack who would only attack if absolutely necessary. And he'd do anything to have him at his side right now.

"Yeah, well don't. Ya mess with my boys, ya mess with me. Brooklyn's a friend a' ours, Swing," he stated, knowing that if Spot thought he was about to be threatened like they were, he'd step in immediately to defend his boys. "I ask for Conlon's help, he's there. No questions asked." Now, that wasn't entirely true. Him and Spot had their differences. But he could convince him if he needed to.

The other boy scowled for a moment. He was just a stupid kid who didn't know what he was doing. That was dangerous. He could do some real damage and Jack didn't want that damage to fall onto his boys. Race was right. He needed to put a stop to this. And he needed to talk to Race. "Back off, or there's gonna be real trouble here, understand?" Jack asked. He wasn't trying to be threatening. It was as civil as it could be. They couldn't handle a war right now. Not right now.

The other boy didn't get a chance to respond before Jack was walking off. That should hold them off for a bit. As long as Swing believed that Jack wasn't bluffing- which he was not. If he needed Spot, he needed Spot. But right now, all he wanted was Racer.

The walk back to the Lodge was long and silent and Jack had way too long to think. He couldn't get that look out of his head, the one that Race has given him after he'd lost control. Race wasn't supposed to be scared of him. They were supposed to be a team. They were supposed to be brothers.

In the long run, someone should've seen it coming. After all the horrors Jack had lived through, it was amazing how much of his anger he actually let go rather than taking it out on another human being. After all, that was all he'd ever been taught. That's what most adults had done to him. Why shouldn't he do the same?

He knew how much it hurt. He never wanted to inflict any kind of pain on anyone else. Especially not his little brother. But he was bound to snap sooner or later.

It wasn't any excuse.

He was blocks away from his home when he found himself walking through a cloud of smoke. "What're ya doin' out here, kid? It's late. You should be gettin' ta bed..." Jack tried. He was good at acting like nothing had happened. He turned to his Italian brother. The boy only glared at him, taking another puff of his cigar and blowing it in his face. "I get it. You ain't talkin' ta me. You can hate me, but you's should still be gettin' ta bed," he tried. But then he really looked at the kid, like really looked at him.

He looked terrible.

"Racer?" Suddenly his voice was concerned. Suddenly his heart ached all the more.

"Kelly?" the boy shot back immediately. His voice was bitter and angry but that's not what Jack heard. All he heard was exhaustion and weakness.

"Kid, when was the last time you slept?" he asked sincerely, taking a small step towards his friend who looked at the ground, making it clear to Jack that he didn't want to talk. The boy had tells. Jack knew them all. At least, the ones that had nothing to do with poker. "Racer, I ain't gonna hurt ya. You need ta go back ta the lodge and get some sleep." It was a simple request. He was the Manhattan leader. He was supposed to be looking out for his boys. He could forcibly be dragging the kid back, but he wasn't. Not after what happened just a few days prior.

The reply came as a breathy, sort of bitter laugh as a humorless smile spread on Race's face. "Sleep... 's funny... 's a fun joke, Jackie... real funny," he chuckled, clearly exhausted. Jack was beginning to get a little spooked at how eerie his second was being. He had large bags under his eyes. His hair was more of a mess than usual. Everything about him looked worn and weary.

A sigh escaped Jack's lips. "Look, Racer... I's sorry 'bout what happened. I neva' meant ta do nothin' like that. Just-" he cut himself off. He didn't know what else he could say as he watched that boy take another drag, looking anywhere but up at him. "Kid-"

"You rememba' when we was littler n' you came back from the Refuge for the first time?" Race cut him off. Jack froze. His whole body tensed. Race acted like he didn't notice. He just continued in his tired voice. "Ya wouldn't let no one touch you's. N' I didn't know what ta do, 'cause ya ain't neva' pushed me away when I tried ta hug ya..." he recalled, his eyes glazing over. "So afta' a few weeks a' that I just hugged ya anyways n' I wouldn't let you push me away no more because I couldn't listen ta you screamin' in you's sleep no more..."

"You stayed with me all night..." Jack remembered, his voice quiet and low as he tried to take another step towards the younger newsie. Race pressed himself further into the wall.

With a nod, the kid sniffled. "Yeah. That's when ya told me that every time someone touched ya, it felt like bein' back there all ova' again." The kid fisted at his cheeks, trying to stop the tears from sliding down them. It had been days since he'd spoken to the one person in the world that he'd ever really trusted. "Now... do you rememba' when I came back from the Refuge?"

A different time. Jack and Race had been a little older by then. A bit more grown up after being tossed around by the world for so long. "Yeah... all ya wanted was f'r someone ta hug ya," Jack stated, his heart breaking all over again when he remembered that sobbing boy in his arms all those years ago. Race had only been thirteen.

"I didn't get it, Jack..." Race said, finally saying his name. Finally beginning to break underneath all the stress. "I didn't understand why you was so scared of it, but when you..." he cut himself off, trying to breath through the sobs. He didn't want to cry. But the memories were resurfacing all over again. "I felt like I was back there all ova' again. Back with... with Snyder n' my Papa n'... the only person I wanna talk to is the person who did it!"

Jack flinched at that cry. He took in a steady breathe as took another step forward. Race wanted to talk to him. But he just couldn't. "I'm so sorry, kid..." he whispered, raising his arms up as a sign of surrender. "I don't know what... I don't know what happened! I couldn't think!" The tears weren't only beginning to trail down Race's cheeks. Jack couldn't stop his, either. "I neva' meant ta do nothin' like that! I's just... 'm so sorry..."

Before the other boy could even react, Jack had rushed towards him, grabbing the other kid by the shoulders and pulling him into his chest, holding him tightly in his arms and hearing his friend take in a sharp breath as he tensed beneath the touch. It wasn't long before the kid melted into his chest, grateful for the contact Jack was terrified he might never have wanted again. It was painfully clear how tired the kid was when he relaxed into the embrace. "Okay... we gotta go home, alright? Ya need some sleep..."

"Can't sleep..." Race responded so quietly, Jack barely heard it. He should've seen it before. It killed the younger boy that they hadn't spoken to each other in days. And he was up all night with nightmares and memories coming back to haunt him. But Jack wouldn't leave him alone. Not tonight.

"Yes you can. I'll be right there with ya, okay?"

Race didn't have much of a choice. Before long, he was swept up into a loving embrace and carried back to the Lodge. He was asleep before they reached the stairs to the bunk room. And it was okay. His brother had him.

They were going to be okay. They were both hotheaded. They were both stubborn as hell. But in the end, they were brothers. And that was all that mattered.

Thank you so much ariav1200 for this request! I thought it was a short, sweet little story.

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, fansies!