Title: Not Hard To Understand After All
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: When the Delancey brothers take out their anger on David after the strike, Jack has to come to terms with his feelings.
Category: Angst, slash, some hurt/comfort
Warnings: Some violence, a bit of strong language
Feedback: I'd say "It doesn't matter", but I'm not that strong. I need feedback.
Disclaimer: Disney would never do with their characters what I am. Their loss.
Notes: Ahhhhh! I'm never going to finish any of my other stories if my muses don't stop forcing me to start new ones.
*sniffles* This is an idea I had a while back. Sad! *huggles David*
Okay, so help me out guys. Which story should I continue next? Winter Musings, Form of Protest? This one? Maybe Trial?
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Jack scanned the courtyard of distribution center.
"Hey Jack. What'cha lookin' for?" Racetrack asked, coming to stand next to him.
"Dave," he answered. He pushed himself away from the wall and straightened up. "He isn't here yet."
"Huh," said Race. He glanced around. "You're right. I figured he was prob'ly with you, that's why I hadn't seen him yet."
Jack glanced sharply at his friend. What did he mean by that? Race was searching his pockets for cigar stubs, though, and didn't seem to be giving the comment any more thought. Jack frowned. He'd been getting really sensitive about comments like that lately and he wasn't sure why.
"It's not like him to be late like this," he continued, pushing those thoughts aside.
Race shrugged. "Give the guy a break. Everybody's allowed to be late once in a while." He laughed. "Even Dave. 'Sides, his kid brother's been sick. Maybe he stayed home to help him or something."
"Yeah, sure." Jack nodded slowly.
Maybe Race was right. Les had been sick for the last few days and Mrs. Jacobs hadn't let him go out to sell. So maybe David was staying home to make his brother feel better. That didn't seem right, though; Jack had been visiting Les, and the last time he'd seen him he had been a lot better. Not his usual bouncy self, but able to jump out of bed when Jack came by. Plus, David needed the money because his father was still out of work. Jack knew he wouldn't stay home unless he had to.
"So how's it goin' with your girl?" Race asked.
Jack sighed and let Race change the subject. He was probably worrying about nothing. "Fine, I guess," he said.
Sarah was another sensitive subject recently. Jack had started feeling uncomfortable with their relationship and he thought Sarah realized this.
The change wasn't in her, really. She was the same sweet and caring girl she had been when he met her. But something was different. When he looked at her, he didn't see someone who could understand him and keep him from getting into trouble, like he used to see in her. He definitely didn't see someone who he could picture being happy with for the rest of his life. More often than not, he was stopping by the Jacobs' to see David instead of to visit Sarah.
"Not goin' so good anymore, is it?" Race asked sympathetically. "Boy, do I understand that."
Jack suddenly remembered the last time he'd been alone with Sarah. She had been talking quietly about something--he couldn't even remember what--and he'd jerked away when she touched his shoulder. They had continued to talk awkwardly for another few minutes, but eventually Sarah had stood up hastily and said she had to finish supper. Jack had let her go without a protest.
"No, not so good," Jack admitted. "I guess she's just not what I thought she was." Or I'm not who I thought I was.
Race patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Everything'll work out." Jack nodded and Race grinned. "Now, how 'bout we go get some papes before they're all gone?"
"Sounds good to me." Jack smiled and followed his friend, determined to put aside his confusing thoughts, at least for a bit. It wouldn't be too hard to do that with all the guys surrounding him, joking around.
Jack stepped up to the counter, grinning. Behind him, Skittery and Bumlets finished serenading a laughing Blink with a high-pitched love song.
"The usual," he said distractedly, placing his change on the counter. He grabbed the papes Wiesel shoved at him, turning to go.
"Cowboy," said someone behind him, voice dripping with sarcasm. Jack looked and saw Morris Delancey sneering at him from behind the desk. His brother stood slightly behind him, smirking stupidly, a large bruise over one eye.
"What, Morris? You finally figure out how to count without using your fingers?"
Morris scowled. "Yeah, you're laughing now," he snapped.
"You got something to say, say it," Jack said impatiently. "Or spare us all an' keep your yaps shut." He wasn't in the mood for their shit this morning.
Both Oscar and Morris smiled at him, making his skin crawl. "Just wanted to know if you'd seen your pal Dave today," Morris said slowly. Jack shot him a hard look. How'd they know-- "We wanted to know how he was doin'."
Jack turned angrily to leave, but something caught his attention. Oscar's arms were folded across his chest, but Morris' were hanging at his side, leaving his knuckles bare. And his knuckles were swollen and scraped like they'd been hitting something.
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Cliffhanger (kinda)! dun dun DUN