Hey everybody! Sorry, I really meant to post this sooner, but work and school and a million other things have unfortunately kept me way too busy. ;P
Special thanks to SomedayonBroadway for giving me this prompt (Jack comforting Race after a nightmare). You should definitely head over and check out their stories if you get the chance! ;)
Totally open to more prompts (can't promise I'll get to them, but I'll do my best)!
As always, I love love love feedback, so drop a review and let me know your thoughts! Enjoy!
Typical disclaimer...don't own Newsies. :)
The terrified scream tore through the night, jerking Jack Kelly from his light slumber with a
vengeance. He threw his blanket aside and dropped from the bunk, socked feet landing softly on the floor. A quick peek at the bed below his reassured him that Crutchie was sleeping soundly.
The moans and whimpers continued, and it didn't take Jack long to locate the source of the panicked sounds. It wasn't uncommon for a night of sleep at the lodging house to be interrupted by a nightmare of some sort. The last couple of weeks had been unusually quiet, but Jack knew it would only last a matter of time. And he was right.
The Manhattan leader settled on the edge of one of the bunks, reaching out a cautious hand to shake the shoulder of the curled up figure. "Race, wake up," he hissed, preparing himself for the kid's typical response.
"Get offa' me." The low growl was expected, but Jack's heart still lurched at the venom lacing the voice.
"You're dreamin', Racer," Jack murmured, catching the boy's wrist when a fist came flying upward.
Race shrank back suddenly. "No, stop!" he pleaded, twisting to pull out of Jack's grip. "Please, just leave me alone." The hoarse whisper tugged at the older newsie's heartstrings. He gave Race's shoulders another rough shake, finally jarring the younger newsie from the snare of his nightmares.
The fifteen-year-old's thrashing ceased as he came awake with a gasp. "J...Jack?"
"Yeah, kid," Jack reassured, relaxing his grip on the trembling boy's shoulders. "Was just a dream."
Race sucked in a breath. Around them, several of the others were stirring, sleepy gazes searching the room in confusion and concern.
"Get back to bed, fellas," Jack whispered, waving off their worry. "Everything's fine."
Reassured that their leader had the situation handled—as he usually did—they obeyed, rolling over and tugging their blankets back over their heads.
Jack turned back to Race, catching a glimpse of his fear-stricken face through the dark. "Hey," he muttered, "you's okay?"
Race shook his head, still breathing hard. "Jackie…" Fear laced the kid's voice, an unusual occurrence even after a nightmare. His eyes darted around the dark room, as if he feared something—or someone—was lurking in the shadows.
Jack gave Race's arm a comforting squeeze. "Hey. You's okay. You ain't goin' nowhere. Jus' calm down."
Race leaned into the touch, clinging to Jack's sleeve as if desperate for the contact.
The older newsie was somewhat surprised. The response would've been expected from one of the younger boys, but it wasn't typical Racetrack. The kid was always confident, his smart-aleck, cocky personality and stolen cigars getting him through any situation. It wasn't often that he was frightened or unsure, but whatever nightmare he'd just experienced had scared him, and on his face shone a vulnerability Jack could only remember seeing once before.
"Must've been some dream, huh?" Jack teased lightly. Race shuddered, grip tightening on the fabric of Jack's shirt.
"Hey. You know you's not goin' back to that dump, right?"
"How…how'd you know?" Race's quiet voice broke through the dark.
Jack almost snorted. "Ain't a one of us here that's not had a nightmare 'bout the Spider, whether we's been in that hellhole or not."
Race shrugged.
"So's, wanna tell me what brought it on?" Jack lifted an eyebrow, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the others.
The younger boy hesitated, and for a moment Jack was sure the kid was going to clam up and push him away. But then he sighed. "I seen 'im, when I was on my way back from sellin' papes."
Although Jack knew it didn't matter to Synder one bit, he asked anyway. "You wasn't doing anything wrong, was ya?"
"No!" Race winced and lowered his voice. "One of his goons was with 'im. They was draggin' some kid away..." He faded off, clenching his fists in his lap.
Jack inhaled sharply. "And?" he prodded, his heart aching as he guessed where the story was headed.
"The look on his face, Jackie." The blond boy shook his head. "I couldn't stand it. So's I went after 'em."
"Is that where's you got the shiner?" Jack's fingers gently brushed over the dark-colored bruise on Race's swollen jaw.
The boy ducked his head and nodded, clearly not wanting to elaborate.
Jack sighed, giving his friend's shoulder another reassuring squeeze. "I's sorry, kid."
Race shrugged, avoiding Jack's gaze. "Get on back to bed. I'll be fine."
The older newsie lingered, hesitant to leave but knowing Race was done talking. "You's sure?" He got a nod in response. "All right. You calls me if you needs me, huh?" he offered, knowing the boy wouldn't take him up on it.
"Yeah, sure." Race half-smiled, giving his friend a shove.
Jack ran a hand over the kid's head, ruffling his curly hair. "Night, Racer."
Race shoved him off with a disapproving grunt and playful glare. "Night, Jackie."
Jack grinned. He was turning back toward his bunk when a quiet voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hey, Jack?"
The dark-haired newsie halted mid-retreat, turning back toward Race. "Yeah?"
There was a pause. Then, "Thanks."
Jack smiled. "Anytime, kid."