I'm gonnabe honest... i didn't think I'd make it to 25. Haha, oh well! Thank you guys so much. Maybe i should do this more often... i like reviews way too much.
potterheadproblems: I am so sorry! Expect, we did it! I got to 25 so it's all okay!... I think... thank you for being the first review! You're amazing!
Averi: Thank you so so much! I love writing heartbreaking things... it's terrible... ;)
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doubleenvelope: Thank you so much! I always kind of try to write different sides of Jack, just to see what'll happen but i never post many of them. I'm glad you like this one!
unofficialfansie: Thank you so much! Don't worry, the next chapters here. I hope it might put your heart back together. Ya know... if it ends well, lol.
Guest: Thank you! I love writing flashbacks! I love seeing where characters came from and why they are who they are and it's always nice to hear that they flow well. Thank you so much!
log date 7 15 2: ... Thank you so much. Like, i didn't really know how to respond but this review made my whole day. That means so much! Don't worry, as you can probably tell... this is my favorite kind of FanFiction too. It's all i write. I'm so glad i could get you into Newsies fics! I love them! Thank you so much!
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mac: Haha, I was hoping that would get somebody. I had to write more! I couldn't just leave it there. Thank you so much! That means the world to me, really.
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Guest: Haha I'm sorry! But the update is here now, so you don't have to figure out what to do with yourself. Thank you so much for reviewing!
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Guest: Thank you so much! I feel like Snyder couldn't always be so heartless, but yeah... he still has no right. Thank you so much!
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Wow guys! I've never gotten 26 reviews for the first chapter of anything! This is amazing and it makes my whole life! I love it so much! Please keep reviewing!
Okay...
You guys have waited long enough...
Enjoy!
He could see her. Her curly brown hair and her dull grey eyes. She was wearing the same necklace she'd been wearing the day she'd left. It was a cross. She'd always prayed things would get better. They never did. Somehow they'd always managed to get worse. He'd start yelling in her face and then his hand would manage to raise up. She'd brace herself for the impact that she was about to review but it would never come. He loved them. He'd loved her. He just didn't know how to show it.
Anthony was on his knees. He'd dropped there when he'd seen her. The man standing above her had cold eyes. Ones that were broken and hopeless. But the little boy didn't care.
"Mama!" he screamed, his throat tightening and his vision blurred with tears. She had blood all over her. Cuts and bruises littered her once porcelain skin. That was where the stones had had hit her. Because if she had been with the devil himself, then the devil had become part of her too. And they had to get rid of that.
That meant Anthony had the devil in him too. That's why so many people were out to get him. That was why so many people wanted him dead or alive. They wanted to torture Satan out of him before they killed him, mostly. That was what they had done to her.
"You see this, Higgins?!" The man over her body had tears streaming down his face. Anthony wondered where his brother was. Surely Vinnie wouldn't let him continue staring at the awful scene before him if he'd known. "This is comin' fer you too!" He was screaming at nothing. They were in the middle of the street. The man in question was no where to be found. In fact, Anthony hadn't seen him in months. Not since Vinnie and him had finally found a way out.
The small child gasped as the man began to walk closer to where he was kneeling, tightening his arms around himself. He hid his little body behind garbage cans and silently begged the universe to be kind to him for a change. But he heard the footsteps getting closer and closer. His heart as beating so fast it was a miracle he was still alive. Surely he should've died of a heart attack by now. But the boy squeezed his eyes shut, only able to see the mangled, bloodied mess of his mother before him as he tried to figure out what to do, before someone grabbed his arm.
"Anthony!"
Blue eyes shot open to meet older ones. "Vinnie!" He couldn't stop himself before launching into his big brother's arms. "She's gone... mama's dead..."
"I know, T... c'mon!" the older boy urged, his voice full of rage and concern all at once. The tone sounded odd for a second, like it was coming from the wrong person. Like he was in the wrong persons arms. But little Anthony just held on a bit tighter. "We gotta go before they find ya too!"
And off they went. Anthony didn't tear his eyes off of the heap of a dead body on the streets until she was completely out of view.
"I'm sorry, mama..."
Immediately, the first thing Race did when consciousness came back to him was attempt to sit up. He groaned as he hit his head on the wood above him. He could see the blood stain there from when multiple people had probably attempted to do that exact same thing. He couldn't move after that.
The dull ache that had been in his stomach was becoming sharper and more painful than ever. The kid was starving and thirsty and his whole body shook to prove it. It had to have been days. More than just mere hours. His throat was raw with desperate pleads. Sometimes he'd hear a chuckle. Other times, it would just be silence. If there was one thing Race realized while wasting away in a wooden coffin, it was that he hated the silence.
Blood seeped from his shoulder where the knife still tore into it. The thing was still in the same place. It hadn't moved. The cut wasn't too deep, but the boy knew better than to think that wound couldn't kill him. It was sore and he was already vulnerable. He wasn't sure how much longer he had before he'd begin getting deathly sick.
In attempts to keep himself sane in the box he was still trapped in, the sixteen year old began to do something to occupy his mind. He hummed to himself. An old song that Jack sang the littles whenever they needed a laugh or a way to forget the monsters that were hiding under their beds. It was meant to get kids to smile. It only succeeded in getting Race to choke out a sob as he was long out of tears. "Jack..."
He hated that the last time he saw his big brother was with tears running down his face as they hauled him away. He hated that they had both been terrified and unable to say goodbye.
Jack was the only person he had that he trusted. The only one who'd cared that Race was human and wasn't just a Higgins...
"You think I don't know the things he did?" Anthony whispered, his voice shaking. "He used ta make me watch..." His voice shook with so much emotion. Far too much emotion for a kid so young. "And Vinnie... Vinnie didn't used ta be like him. He use ta be my brother!" the boy sobbed out, his body shaking as he tried once again to gain control. "Then... after we ran... he started drinkin'. Gamblin'. He became a hell of an actor." The memory of losing his brother hurt like nothing else. All he wanted was his big brother back. "Told everyone he needed money so's I could eat. Trouble is... all that money ended up on the table in his next poker match."
The older boy was stunned. Anthony figured he was terrified. He'd probably start yelling soon, screaming that he'd found a monster and that it needed to die. The boy couldn't find it in himself to care. If Jack had said anything, Anthony hadn't listened.
"I just thought..." the Italian boy sighed as he was finally able to catch his breath. "I just thought I could start over when Scraps found me. I'd never been anywhere but Brooklyn. But then I met the boys and I just felt like... like I could be normal."
"Hey, you can be," Jack promised, with a kind of sincerity in his voice. Anthony looked up at him like he was insane.
"Jack, they'll find out who I am. My picture was in the papers. Snyder's been looking for me for years," the boy explained, sadly. "And Vinnie... I barely escaped him. He's probably gonna be lookin' for me." Tears slid down his face and all the boy could think to was let his body sag. He gasped when stronger arms wrapped around him. No one ever held him like that. Not even Vinnie...
"Listen ta me, kid," Jack ordered gently. "We'll give ya a newsie's name, I'll teach ya how ta sell and how ta charm your way outta any situation. You'll come back ta the lodging house and the boys'll take you in because any boy that goes in there is a brother to us." Anthony relaxed a bit in the hold, daring to believe the boy's words were true. "Ya don't need Vinnie, kid. He doesn't know what he's missin'. So's I'll promise ya somethin'." Suddenly, Jack pulled away. He held him at arms length and continued talking. "If you come back with me, I'll be your new big brother. I swear I will always look out for you and I'll teach ya how ta sell and how ta look out for the boys. But ya gotta come back."
"Ya really wanna be my brother?" Anthony asked in disbelief.
That was when Jack smiled at him for the first time. "Sure, kid. You ain't no bad person," he said, wiping the tears from the kid's eyes. "You're a newsie. And I'm gonna make sure you're one of the best..."
That felt like so long ago. That day had changed everything. Race wasn't alone anymore. That's the day Race had a family again. Someone to rely on and someone to trust in and to run to for comfort or help. Someone to love and someone to love him.
The boy took in the carvings on the lid above him. Some where painful to take in. Pleas for help, last words, anything to keep people sane from the never ending darkness and silence. He'd been in this box before, but never as the next victim. Simply as a way of teaching his older brother a lesson as he screamed and cried for freedom for about two hours before he was let out into Vinnie's arms again. This was different. This time, the lid wasn't gonna be opened for him to see his father standing in front of him, telling him he loved him and that they should know better. This time Vinnie wouldn't be standing a few feet away with open arms and tears streaming down his face. This time, he had no idea what would happen next. And that was torture enough for him.
So when the locks began making sound, Racetrack held his breath. "No... don' hurt me, please..." he whispered out to no one. Snyder definitely wouldn't have heard such a pathetic whimper.
It was no use begging. The child was much too weak anyhow. But he couldn't help the way he bit his lip to keep from letting the sobs come. He couldn't help the way he pulled on the chains one more time, hurting himself further in hopes that they'd just fall away. All he could do was let out a shaky whimper as the lid was moved aside and the knife was pulled from his skin.
"Hello there, rat..." Snyder growled with a terrible grin on his face. He took in the sight of his captive. Dried blood was everywhere. Dried tears were all over his face along with snot and fresh blood that came from the biting of his dried lips and bloody nose. He was half dead already. "I hope you enjoyed the your last three days of solitude..."
The child didn't have the energy for a quip or witty comeback, like he expected he'd do if he could. All he could do was stare dead ahead as the Spider climbed over him and did something Race had not expected.
A hand wrapped over his throat while another pressed his mouth closed, simultaneously punching his nose shut. Race couldn't breathe. He wanted to lift his hands up. He wanted to fight. He couldn't. His strength had gone with the hitting and kicking of the damn coffin he still lay inside. He made muffled pleads and noises as spots clouded his vision. "It's okay, Higgins... go to sleep..."
He didn't have a choice. Darkness consumed him and all he could do was let it take him under.
The plan was simple really. Get in, find Race, get out. He wasn't expecting it to be as difficult as it was. The first night he'd gone, only to find that there were guards in his way all the way around the building. He couldn't climb up the fire escape without being caught. The second night, he'd made it to the window, only to be told that Snyder was coming in to check on them and that he had to leave. But tonight, Jack was sure he could do this. He had to.
He could already be too late.
The Manhattan newsie snuck around to the back of the building successfully. He managed to stay silent as he made his way up the fire escape to the window he went to whenever he needed to know if one of his boys was safe. The room he was always banished to. The room that still gave so many of the toughest boys in New York terrible, heartbreaking nightmares.
The glass was like I've, but Jack knocked anyways. Then it was just a matter of time, so he stood and waited, bounding on the balls of his feet. He hated waiting. Waiting meant more things could be done to a little boy with no way of defending himself. Waiting meant more blood and more bruises and more screaming and more begging... But it took a few moments for anyone to be brave enough to open the damn window through the bars. And when they did, the relief that should've taken over Jack was stopped short when he saw who stood before him.
"Hey, Hot Shot..." the newsie leader mumbled, hating that this boy was still in here. It must've been months since this kid had last seen his brothers.
The boy he was speaking to was extremely Italian. His hair was greasy black and his skin an olive kind of color. But there were terrible round scars making their way up the boy's body. Scars that still hurt. Jack wished he could get all these kids out of here. But at the moment, he had one priority.
"Hey, Kelly... one a' your boys get taken in again?"
It was true. That would be the only reason Jack was standing where he was standing, his cap pulled down further and further over his eyes, trying to conceal himself Incase someone unexpected came in.
"Yeah," the leader nodded, shakily. If Hot Shot was asking, that meant he hadn't seen him. That meant the Race could already be gone... "Racer, actually... ya know where he'd be?"
For a moment, Hot Shot's eyes widened, before he caught himself, figuring that Jack's panic and worry wouldn't be improved by a sudden change of expression. "The Racer kid is here?" he asked, still in somewhat of disbelief.
If there was one thing a Brooklyn boy would know about Jack Kelly, it was that he never let Racetrack out of his sight. Race and Crutchie were always somewhere around him and he made sure neither one of those kids ever saw the inside of these walls. Crutchie, because he was already a crippled kid and wouldn't last long with boys who wouldn't ban together. And Race because... well, actually only Jack and Race knew the answer to that one.
Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, stress coming in to eat him alive. "Yes! Do you know where he'd be?" His stress and panic came in full. Jack was terrified.
"Okay, okay!" Hot shot raised his hands up in a sign of surrender. Jack had never been this stressed about a boy being in the Refuge. Normally he'd bring them food and water and some blankets for all the boys to share. But right now, he seemed beyond stressed. More like the Kelly version of actually scared. "I ain't seen him... but..." the Italian boy scratched the back of his neck. He could see how anxious Jack was to know that his brother was still okay. He hated to be the bearer of bad news. But if that kid wasn't in one of the rooms, there was only one other place he'd be. "Word 'round the dinin' hall's that the Spida's got a new pet..."
The pang that shot through Jack's heart hurt like hell...
"Jack, they'll find out who I am. My picture was in the papers. Snyder's been looking for me for years..."
Snyder knew who Race was. And he was doing awful things. Jack knew it.
"He been here for a few days?" Jack just nodded mutely at the question, not liking the sigh he got after that. "Three days ago, someone was screamin' real bad. Could hear him everywhere... kept askin' someone ta let him out and sayin' things in Italian... sayin' things like it wasn't his fault an' he didn' do nothin'..." It must've never occurred to Hot Shot that that could've been Race. The Brooklyn boy and Jack's brother were both gamblers, not to mention they both spoke fluent Italian. They got along very well when they weren't trying to beat the crap out of each other. "No one heard from the kid since... he ain't anyone down here..."
"I gotta get ta him..." Jack whispered brokenly as the news hit him hard. "Please... tell me there's a way I can get ta him..."
Stunned, Hot Shot stared at the fearless leader for a moment. He was terrified. He was truly, utterly terrified of what he might find. But after letting his shock subside a bit, he nodded. "Second to top floor. There's an abandoned room, the window was neva' fixed. Great way in, but ya can't get back out. Once the doors shut, they's lock ya inside."
Jack shook his head. "I don't care 'bout that. I just need ta get ta Racer... I'll figure the rest out lata'..." With that, Jack made a move to run to the room his friend spoke of, but he stopped. Turning back to the window, he spit in his hand and held it out through the bars for the boy to shake. "Thanks, Hot Shot. Any word for Spotty?"
The Italian boy let himself grin at that. "Tell 'im his second's only a week away from beatin' his ass at poka' again..."
The two shook hands, both with wild grins on their faces. "Sure thing, pal. See ya then." And then Jack took of running.
Snyder watched his play thing like a hawk. He had his prey tied down and weak and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He was happily watching the boy struggle for consciousness once again. The kid was chained to a chair, his hands behind him and his ankles spread apart at the legs of the uncomfortable wooden thing. His hands and wrists were raw and his knees were bloodied from more than the beating he'd been given when he'd first arrived. The boy's eyes drearily slid open. And the first thing he did was try and move, causing himself further pain and a small, weak cry.
"Good morning," Snyder greeted, his smile fake and menacing. Race gasped, trying to back away, only to find that he couldn't. "I wouldn't try to fight it, if I were you. You'll only make it worse..."
Not having much of an option, Race obeyed, silently looking up with broken, terrified blue eyes, at the man that was doing this to him. A man that was no better than his father.
Taking a quick glance around the room, the boy was stunned to find that what had once just been an office, was now a chamber of torture designed specifically for him. Weapons decorated the room; Whips, knives, candles... everything that had once been in a basement that he was locked in from the day he was born.
"You're such a mess, Anthony. We should clean you up a bit..."
Race didn't like the sound of that. But before he could question anything, his chair was leaned back and he gasped, bracing himself for impact of the floor. It never came. A guard held his chair in position before a cloth was thrown over his face. It was then that Race knew what was coming.
As the freezing cold liquid hit him, he screamed, gasping for air when he could and fighting against the restraints that wouldn't budge. He couldn't breathe. He was shaking with nerves, cold and hunger and his head was pounding from a beating and lack of food and air. His whole body ached with pain and starvation and he couldn't fight against the men that were torturing him for something he didn't do.
After what felt like hours, his chair hit the ground with a thud and Race coughed up his lungs, trying to get the water out of them so he could breathe again. For a second, he thought Snyder might be giving him a break. That was before he felt something hot push against his shoulder. With his throat completely raw, his scream was hardly audible. It wasn't long before Snyder was kneeling in front of him, smoking a cigarette and blowing that smoke in his face. Race coughed more. He tried to wiggle away from the man, but didn't succeed in his fight.
"Don't try and leave so soon, Higgins... I'm just getting started with you..." Snyder teased before pressing the thing in his hand against the same spot on the child's shoulder. "And tonight, when your being buried, you'll be begging for death to come sooner..."
All the kid could do was scream.
True to his friend's word, Jack was able to slip into the abandoned room. The window was broken. But as he slipped through the door, letting it close behind him, he was locked in the hallway, unable to get back out.
Jack didn't have time to be scared. All he could do was stay low and make his way through the prison quick. He had to get to Race. He had to get to his brother.
Screams made their way through the halls and Jack's blood ran cold. He knew that voice. He knew those screams. "Race..."
As guards rounded the corner, Jack threw himself into a different hallway, concealing himself from view. He pressed his back firmly up against the wall and held his breath, trying to keep quiet.
"That really the Higgins kid?" one guard asked, slightly astonished.
"Sure is," the other answered. "Did ya see him? He looks exactly like the guy. If ya ask me, he deserves every bit of what he's gettin'."
Jack's skin began to crawl at the words. But all he could do was stay quiet and listen intently. "The devil's in him. I don't blame the guy either. What's he plannin' on doin' with him though? Hangin'?"
No... no no no no no...
"Nah... Snyder had someone out diggin' yesterday. That box he kept the kid in? I think he's gonna bury the kid with it."
Jack's eyes widened. He'd never known anyone could be so increasingly cruel. After all the torture his brother was already going through, Jack was not about to let him be buried alive. No way in hell. "Hold on, kiddo... 'm comin'..." And with that, the sneaking continued.
Race was helpless and exhausted when he was thrown back into the box. His skin was burning and somehow he still felt like he was drowning. He didn't protest when the lid was locked back over him. He didn't start screaming and he didn't kick the wood, trying to make it break. He just lay there and reminded himself that he couldn't breathe properly even if he tried. He was the devil. He deserved this.
His back hurt more than anything, but Snyder didn't seem to care. Just threw him onto it without a second thought. And Race didn't move. The pain was overwhelming. All the kid could do to try and block it out was close his eyes.
"Hello? I know you're out there..."
Little Anthony shook and tried to hide himself further in the corner he cowered in. The woman... she was still inside that box. She was weak and tired and his father would come back soon and throw Vinnie back inside. He was sure they'd gone looking for the woman who'd abandoned them again. But the woman in the box kept talking when she was met with the silence.
"My name is Sophia... I know you're out there..."
Still, Anthony was too scared to move. He didn't want his papa to find him or hear him talking to his next subject. He'd surely get punished really badly for it. So he just sat and waited, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for a way out.
"Can you just... just tell my brother that I love him?"
Sobs wracked his little body as he tried to hold them in. He was too small and weak for that. So he just let the tears fall.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
Race was about a second from passing out. About a second away from just letting the darkness take him before he was buried in a shallow grave where no one would ever find him. No one would know what happened to him. He'd just become another ghost story that went around Lodge. That is, as long as the boys cared to even remember him.
"I'm so sorry..."
The child let his eyes slide closed. He tried to enjoy the silence in that moment. The one that he sincerely hated. The silence that was pure torture for him. He attempted to be grateful for it. He tried to imagine his boys, running around and screaming with each other and messing with each other's things. He tried to picture Jack there to tell them to-
Bang
With a jump and a gasp, those broken blue eyes shot wide open and Race let out a pained whine. "Please just stop... please just let me die... I'm sorry..."
Bang
But that didn't sound like Snyder.
"No way in hell, Racer."
Jack.
If he'd had the energy or the ability, Race would've screamed in relief. He would've cried out his brother's name as he heard his voice. He would've started crying with tears of fear and pure joy at the thought of getting out of there. He heard six bangs before the lid of the box was thrown aside.
The kid was hysterical. As soon as the box was opened words were spewing from his lips, quiet and weak, but frantic. Race wasn't looking at him. His eyes darted around the entire room and he breathed hard before being thrown into a fit of coughs. His language was mixed between Italian and English and the older boy couldn't understand a word of what he said.
"Race! Racer! I need ya ta calm down, alright?" Jack took hold of the boy's shoulders, holding him down. He'd snuck into the office right as Snyder was going down for dinner they had approximately thirty minutes to get out of there. But if someone heard them, it was all over. They'd both be dead by the next morning.
He pushed Race down only for the boy to let out a pained scream. Jack's heart shattered. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. He needed to get the younger boy out of there. So he quickly surveyed all the damage he could see. The kid was covered in blood. Most of it was dry by then. But what had Jack really worried were his little brother's wrists.
Skin was cut through on all sides. The poor kid had them cradled to his chest in as much protection as he could. Blood had been seeping down his arms as the cuffs dug into wrists, cutting off all circulation. "Kid..." he breathed, reaching down to try and get a better look at them. He was met with a violent flinch. "Can ya move 'em?"
A sob tore from Race's throat. "It hurts, Jack..." he whimpered honestly, too scared and weak to do much else.
"I know, buddy... it's okay... don' move..." Jack reached down and ran a gentle hand through Race's matted hair, hating the shiver it sent down the sixteen year old's body. He had no doubt that the kid was in so much pain he wouldn't be able to walk. He didn't care. He was getting Race out one way or another.
It didn't take long for Jack to find the keys. Snyder liked to keep them in plain sight. He liked to let his kids know that their freedom was just barely out of reach. And Jack wasted no time rushing back to his friend and shushing him as he quickly unlocked the bloodied cuffs. The ones around his ankles came off first. They weren't so bad. Just a few irritated marks and a cut or two. Frankly, Jack was beyond terrified to touch Race's wrists.
"I'm so sorry, pal..." that was the only warning Race got before Jack grabbed onto his wrists and Race bit down on his lip to keep in his screams. When Jack got them off, he threw them to the side and tenderly held his brother's hand between his own. "You're okay, kid... it's okay..." Jack tried to soothe as Race sobbed and tried to breathe, only resulting in coughing some more. He was choking up water. And that was enough to scare Jack.
"It's hard ta breathe..." the beaten child breathed out brokenly. "It hurts, Jack..."
"I know, kid..." Jack whispered. He bent down into the box to help the boy. He ignored Race pleads for him to get out. To just leave him there before something worse happened. He gently forced the boy into a sitting position and then he hoisted the kid up into his arms. Race whimpered and nothing could've broken Jack's heart more. "I'm gettin' you outta here. It's all gonna be okay..."
Or, so he thought. Because all too soon, footsteps were heard and a voice was booming through the halls. Jack didn't pay much mind to what was being said. He was too busy panicking as terrified blue eyes locked on the door. They had seconds before both of them were lost to the world.
A grin was on Snyder's lips as he opened the door to his office, like he had so many times before. Only this time, when he shoved the door open, he was expecting to see the boy he'd been searching for for so long locked up in a box. He hadn't been expecting for that box to be broke open and empty.
"Dammit!" His scream grabbed the attention of every guard in the building. "Find him!" It was his only command. He didn't care about much else. He wanted that boy dead. And so help him, that was how the night would end.
Jack held Race tight to him, a hand pressed over the boy's mouth to keep him quiet and the other secured around his waist, gently. He was so scared of hurting the boy or suffocating him, so he glanced down at him every few seconds to make sure he was still ok. They were beneath the Spider's desk. They had no where left to go.
Please... this kid has already been through too much...
Jack didn't know if he was even praying at that point or just ready to start begging Snyder to see that this kid was only just that; A kid. A kid who'd seen and been through so much in his small life. None of this was his fault.
He could feel the smaller boy shake against him. His thin body could only take so much. So he whispered a plea for his brother to stay quiet. The boy silently turned further into him and weakly grasped at his shirt to try and calm himself down. He could practically feel Snyder staring down the room before he let out an angry grumble and turned and left. Because surely, Race wouldn't still be in his office.
When Jack's hand fell from the beaten boy's face, Race let out another sob. He held to Jack as tightly as he could when the older boy carefully crawled from their hiding place, still holding the younger boy in his arms, the kid latching his weak legs around his waist and his arms around the older boy's neck. "We're gonna get outta here, I promise..."
There was no good escape. Every way would be messy. Every way would make noise that would give them away. Jack just had to be fast enough. He could do it...
For Race, he could do it.
The boy whined as Jack laid him down on the floor. He muttered something about his back. Jack didn't have time to understand what it meant. He quickly and quietly ran to the door. He locked it without hesitation. The room was quiet then. Jack could hear the sound of Race wheezing. The kid needed out of there. He was fading fast. Every few seconds, a labored breath would take over the room and Jack would just stop and watch Race to make sure his chest continued moving. Whatever had happened to Race would take a long time to heal. Jack wasn't sure that the trauma would ever actually die.
"It's okay, pal... I'm gettin' you out..." the seventeen year old assured as he rushed over to the window. The window in Snyder's office didn't open. It was like the man simply had a distaste for fresh air. Jack had never been so grateful that the room he hated so much was on the ground floor. This is for Racer, Jackie... you can do this...
A breath was let out slowly from Jack's lips before he prepped himself in a ready position for what he was about to do next. He braved himself and prepared for impact as he broke through the glass with his elbow, letting out a cry when the glass shattered, possibly cutting into his arm as he tried to duck out of the way. It wasn't long before the commotion outside the door froze for a moment. But the boy didn't have time to stop. He didn't have time to think. He simply let his heart beat out of his chest when there was banging at he door and he scooped his little brother back up into his arms.
"Let's go home, kid..." And with that, he was running to the broken opening in the wall with the limp body in his arms weighing just about nothing. His adrenaline kept him going and gave him strength he needed more than anything else.
Snyder broke the door down. He screamed when he saw the mess that was his sanctuary. The boy that was the last way he could avenge his beloved Sophia, was gone. And the man exploded. "Find him!" he ordered once more, more urgently and angrily. "So help me God, Higgins... I will find you and I will kill you..."
And that was a promise.
The night was a long and hard one. Jack was no idiot. They'd be looking. Snyder wasn't one to give up easily. So they stayed hidden. Jack did what he could. He tore apart his own clothing to make bandages for Race. He found water and tried to wash away the relentless blood from his nose and mouth, allowing the kid to drink some as well. They stayed very near to the Refuge. A place no one would look for them. They hid with the horses, sitting in an empty pen. The creatures were sure as hell nicer than the people. And water wasn't far away.
It wasn't long, however, before Jack was panicking.
"J-Jack..." The kid couldn't even bring his hands up to touch the older boy. Jack had to drop everything and help him. He brought Race's fingers up to his face and held them underneath his chin for a moment, letting the kid know he was there before placing them back down on the smaller boy's chest.
"Shush, Racer... you're gonna be okay..."
He wasn't okay. That was a complete and utter lie. Race was a disaster. The boy would have nightmares for the rest of his life, Jack was sure of that much. Not to mention the injuries that Jack- a seventeen year old boy- was trying to treat now were more than likely life threatening.
The kid winced after a moment and closed his eyes. Jack's heart was beating so fast and hard he feared it would somehow break from his chest. The kid's breathing was slowing down from its previous odd patterns and strangled gasps of air. But before Jack could start begging Race to open his eyes back up again and to just hold on, the small, shaky voice met his ears...
"Jack... do ya think I got the devil in me?"
Jack hated the relief that flooded through him at the awful question. While it was horrific and beyond sickening, at least the boy was talking.
Before Jack answered, he began reaching for the boy's shirt. He had to take it off. The kid was more than likely a mess under there. With the awkward way he tried to lay on his side Jack almost had no doubt that the Spider took out his most dreaded weapon: His whip. It was kept under lock and key for the man's absolute favorite toys. Jack had been one of them. He had prayed every day that Race would not be.
God hadn't heard him.
"What're ya talkin' 'bout, Racer?" Jack tried to brush it off as nothing. That was hard when the boy on the ground in front of him had a voice that sounded like sandpaper. The kid had probably been screaming more than he ever had before.
"Why did ya take me in, Jackie?" Race croaked out, his eyes still refusing to open back up. He couldn't hold them open anymore. "My pa-"
"Ain't you, Race." Jack gently worked on peeling the kid's clothes off as he spoke with a kind of warning tone. Race shouldn't be thinking like that. Race was a good kid with a past that shouldn't belong to him. "You are not him. You are Racetrack. It don' matta' none what your last name is or ain't."
Anthony Higgins was a scared kid. He had died on the night that Jack had chased him away. Racetrack was different. He was anything but quiet. He lived for poker and dice and any other gambler's game he could get his hands on. He protected his own and made sure everyone else knew it. He was a force to be reckoned with. He was Jack Kelly's little brother.
And Jack feared he might not make it through the night.
"Racer, ya gotta stay awake, okay kid? Just a little longa' and I'll take ya home…"
But he was too late. Race was out cold. The only comfort that Jack had was his chest, unsteadily rising and falling. There wasn't much the older boy could do but continue on. He carefully turned Race over, placing his own torn up shirt under the kid's head. Then he stared at the sight that met him. The once white undershirt was crimson and Jack couldn't move for a moment. "Please keep breathin', kid…" he forced out in a broken voice. Then he gingerly tore the soaked shirt off of the bloody skin of his little brother. A more horrific sight may never meet his eyes.
Lashes covered his back, but Jack had been expecting those for sure. What tore his heart out and ripped it to pieces was what else would be engraved in the kids skin forever. In marks that Jack was sure were burns created by a hot iron were five, ugly, awful letters. The were just below Race's shoulders and Jack couldn't help the cry that escaped his lips.
D-E-V-I-L
His hand hovered above the awful markings. They were swollen and would likely get infected if Jack didn't do something quick, but Jack was too stunned to move for a moment. A man… a monster had written a nightmare on a child and there was no way to get rid of it. Those scars would haunt Race more than the ones he'd already had. Jack had no doubt about that.
Quickly, Jack grabbed the rag he'd been using and began to clean the wound, trying in vain to stop the tears from streaming down his face.
This is what people thought of a little boy who had done no wrong. This was what people saw when they recognized him. This could give him away. And Jack hated it.
Leaning down to press a kiss into his little brother's hair, all Jack could do was whisper, "I'm so sorry, little brotha'…" Before he heard voices outside their safe place. And then, Jack was left with the only option he ever had. "It'll be okay, I promise…" He threw Race over his shoulder and did what every newsie did best.
He ran.
He ran, praying that for once God would hear him. For once God would see a hurting little boy who needed help and let them go home. And after years and years of disappointments and angry screams to the heavens…
Two little boys made it home with secrets still intact and scars that were to stay hidden.
That night was the first of many long ones. The screams always started out quiet before the vivid vision became more real and more haunting. That's how the boys found them, curled up on Jack's bunk, watching Racetrack try and get the horrible dream to stop and just get out of his brain. That's how Racetrack would spend every night for the next two months. Unable to sleep and in pain when he moved the wrong way.
The scars haunted him. They always would. But for now, no one could see them but him and Jack. No one could know the horrors that Race was forced to relive in a matter of days. He made sure to never take his shirt on within sight of another newsie. He made sure to hide it as best he could.
As they lay there that night- Race clinging to life as Jack just held him and did everything he could to stop it all- Jack whispered a promise into Race's blond curls...
"I ain't gonna let him touch ya again, kid..." he swore. "I'm gonna kill 'im... I'm gonna kill the damn Spider."
And that was a promise.
And now it's actually the end ;). I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I had way too much fun writing it!
If you have any requests feel free to send them my way! I will add them to my running list and I swear they will get written. Thank you so much!
Alright,
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!
