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It was break. Ten minutes of talking with his boys after English with Bowery and before math with Seitz. But today it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Race was still acting weird. Not talking until someone talked to him and then blowing up at them when they did. He made it a point to sit as far away from Jack as he could. He sat in the very back of Weasel's class and flat out avoided him in English by going to the restroom or getting water or anything else whenever Jack got near him.

Jack knew why. He knew that he was the only one who could ever calm Race down or get the thoughts out of Race's head. He took pride in being the only one of the boys who could over power the boy and make him sit down and talk to him. And clearly Race didn't want to talk. But he might not have a choice as they had lockers right next to each other.

The blond gambler walked up to his locker in silence. Jack watched him, waiting for him to look up from the floor, but he didn't. Race simply opened his locker, pretending that Jack wasn't even there.

Jack glanced over at Crutchie, who stood next to him at his own locker. Some of the other boys were looking over at him from all over the hallway, waiting for him to try and talk to Racetrack. He sighed and looked over at the boy but somehow, Race anticipated his action.

"Don't, Jack." He demanded firmly. "Just don't." He didn't look up at him. His eyes stayed definitely down at the books in his locker. His voice held a lot of emotion that was hard for Jack to decipher. So he just sighed and spoke gently.

"I just wanna know what's goin' on kid." He tried. "Ya got all the boys worried about ya." He tried to put his hand on the sixteen year old's shoulder and realized soon that he'd made a mistake.

Race felt the hand on his shoulder and panicked. He fiercely tore himself from the grip and turned around and was met with Jack's shocked face. "I'm fine!" He yelled backing away. He felt bad for scaring his oldest friend but he couldn't control his own emotions right now.

Little did Race know that when he backed up, he would run into someone who he shouldn't've. Willy Bulls. He was a football player. A big shot who thought he ruled the school. And no one stopped him. He was huge. The strongest boy at the school. Now that the Delanceys had backed off as much as they could, these jokers thought they could mess around with the boys because they were no longer "claimed". And it made Jack angry. But not as angry as he'd be in a minute.

"Watch it Higgins!" The seventeen year old growled. "Or you won't be able ta walk in anyone else's way ever again!" He tried to push past Race but the boy stood his ground. "If we wasn't in the middle of school right now, you'd be in the ground kid!"

Race seethed at the older boy. Later, he would regret his actions, but in the moment, he was too furious to care. "Don't let that stop ya Bulls! It's not like ya could hit me that hard anyways ya dumb, weak, little bastard!"

And that was it. Then next thing Race knew, he was on the ground, kicking and screaming as his brothers tried desperately to get him to stop. He had gotten a few good shots in, but the sad truth was, Will was stronger than him. A lot stronger than him. And Race was already hurting. His arms throbbed where there were already bruises and where new ones were forming and his legs burned as he kicked the other boy to try and get out from under his grasp. But he kept on fighting, even after he received a hard blow to the head that caused his vision to go black for a moment. He was dragged up by the collar and when his vision cleared, he saw the crowd that had gathered.

He saw Henry and JoJo and Albert trying to get Willy away from him. He saw Crutchie sitting behind everyone with wide eyes. He was no doubt shoved over there when the fight had started by Jack. Then Race started to wonder, where was Jack? But that didn't matter, because Willy lunged for him again and he launched himself at the giant boy. He was about to swing his fists again as two strong arms wrapped around his waist.

Race was confused. He was one of the best fighters amongst all of the boys, so who on earth... Then it hit him. He was the second best fighter out of all of his brothers. Second only to his big brother. Jack. He fought hard against the arms of his friend, screaming for Jack to let him go, but it was no use. His arms were pinned at his sides and he was securely strapped onto Jack. The older boy made no move to let go. Eventually, Willy stormed away and the boys were left with a screaming Racetrack.

"Let me go Jack!" He cried, his voice loosing its anger and starting to convey a bit of panic. "I'm fine!"

"You ain't fine!" Jack countered. He sighed and let go of his friend just enough to firmly spin him around. He held the boy by the shoulders, but Race wouldn't look at him. Jack followed Race's gaze wherever it went until he finally got the boy's eyes to meet his. "Look at me kid. What the hell is goin' on?"

Jack saw it in the kid's eyes. Something happened. When Race adjusted his hoodie, which Jack now realized was the red one that he'd given Race when he'd shown up at their window two years ago, after his time in the Refuge, he saw the edge of a brand new scar. Jack could practically see the rest of the marks that were covering the blond boy's body. So Jack grabbed the smaller boy's wrist and held it tightly when Race tried to struggle away.

"Fights over boys! Get to class!" Jack demanded, and immediately all but Crutchie started to disperse. The crippled boy stood with his crutch for a moment before Jack gave him a look to go. He made eye contact with Race one more time before sadly walking away.

He rolled up the sleeve of his old sweatshirt, hiding it from the others view as they walked away. He barely contained his gasp as he saw a fraction of the horrors that covered one of his best friend's body. There were three dark bruises on his forearm. There was one just above his wrist that looked like it wrapped around to the other side, like it was from a rope of some sort. Another was just under his elbow, looking almost identical. The last one was almost in the perfect shape of a hand. And all around these bruises were shallow scratches.

Jack found himself staring at these scars, loosing track of time. His eyes were wide and he barely realized that he'd started to trace the scratches. These scars that would remind Race of whatever had happened the night before for the rest of his life. He pulled his gentle hand back when Race flinched and tried to pull away.

Jack looked up at the boy. He watched as the kid, once again, wouldn't look at him. But he didn't care. All he cared about was getting to the bottom of this and protecting his brother. "Race, who did this?" It came out harsher than Jack had anticipated and Race flinched again as the voice met his ears.

Jack looked around at the halls. Many boys were still around and Jack knew that Race wouldn't say anything in front of anyone else. So he grabbed his brothers chin and forced him to look into his eyes, catching sight of the small bump on the head that Willy had given the smaller boy. He noticed Race starting to lose control of his emotions as he grabbed the boy's face. His eyes were wide and scared.

Jack sighed. "You're comin' with me." He ordered before dragging Racetrack by the wrist down the halls. They stopped at the nurse's office for some ice, but Jack only stopped for a few seconds to go grab it so he could shove it into his friend's hand. "Hold this to your head." He demanded, guiding Race's hand to the bump. Then he dragged Race down to a nearby restroom, shoving him inside before locking the door turning to the boy. He knew no one really walked to the end of the school to use the restroom so he knew they wouldn't likely be disturbed.

Jack looked back at Race who had his hand pressed to his head with a pack of ice in between and he was leaning up against the wall opposite of him. So the older boy leaned up against the door and crossed his arms. "Ya wanna tell me what's goin' on now?" He asked, the anger in his voice not directed at the other boy, but whoever did this to him.

Race shook his head and tried to walk towards the door but Jack pushed himself up, off the wall, and stepped towards him, stopping the boy in his tracks. "They'll give us detention for skippin' class! This is a waste of time Jack!" Race tried, making one final, desperate move to get away from this.

"You ain't a waste of time Race!" Jack shot back, his voice harsh. "Who the hell did this ta ya?!"

"I can't!"

"You know that ain't true!" Jack shot back. "Race, we is brothers." He said sternly. "No matter what."

Race stood defiantly, glaring dangerously at the boy that practically raised him. He sighed angrily before turning around, dropping the ice and just standing for a moment, breathing heavily. But then, out of no where, he started punching the wall. He heard Jack yelling at him to stop but Race couldn't. He was so angry. Angry with everything. Lousy grown ups, crummy schools, even himself. He may have broken his wrist but he didn't feel it. He was too furious.

"Racetrack!" Jack screamed, petrified at what he was seeing. "Hey! Stop it kid! You're hurting yourself!" Jack ran over to him and wrapped him in a tight embrace, turning the boy's face into him, trying desperately to calm him down.

Race fought hard against the strong arms that once again had him pinned. He broke free eventually, after punching Jack in the chest a few times, but Jack just pulled him back in and Race couldn't help but give up. He crashed into his older brother, finally allowing the tears to spill. He buried his head in Jack chest and let out a heart wrenching sob. His whole body gave out on him and he dragged himself and Jack to the ground.

Jack sat on the ground, his back against the cold wall, with a sobbing boy curled up on his lap. Race's legs were sprawled out in front of him as he practically lay in Jack's lap. His torso was curled in on itself as he sobbed, his hands balling up Jack's jeans and his shirt, wishing his life was different.

Jack picked the disregarded ice off the floor and pressed it to his friends bleeding knuckles that were fisted into his old shirt. Race hissed as the cold substance made contact with his burning hand but didn't move out of Jack's embrace. After what felt like hours, Race finally started to calm down.

"Racetrack," Jack sighed, running his hand through the boy's blond, curly hair. "Talk ta me kid." He begged.

"I ain't no kid." Race sniffled and looked up at Jack with sad yet still defiant eyes.

"Well whateva." Jack laughed a little. "You'll always be a kid ta me, little brother." He promised, still running a constant hand through the boy's damp hair. "Who did this, Race?" He asked, gently, leaning down to the boy's ear.

Race sniffled again, playing around with the seem on his friend's shirt. After a moment, he finally sighed and gave in. "She said that if I told anyone... she'd go after you guys... Crutchie first." The tears returned to the poor boy's face as Jack looked down at him, terrified.

"What? Who?" Jack was thrown off. He had no idea what was going on now. "Race what happened?"

Race sobbed some more, into Jack's shirt, before looking up and continuing. "Sh-she followed me ta your apartment, she knows about you guys... an-and the others too..." he stuttered out. He buried himself deeper into Jack's embrace and sobbed harder.

"Race..." Jack breathed in his shock. She?

"L-last night... I w-wasn't st-strong enough... she... she made dinner last n-night..." Race hiccuped. "I-I didn't know, Jack! I didn't know that she drugged the water! But the n-next thing I's know, I couldn't move... or talk... she was on top of me... I had no clothes on... Jack, I can't go back there!" Race cried out. "It was like I was back in the Refuge all over again... with Drake..."

Jack felt himself freeze. Not only his memories of that awful place filling his mind, but the images of what had happened to Race in there filling up, taunting him, teasing him for not being able to save his brother. And Drake. That son of a bitch. The one who took away Race's very innocence. No one knew Drake's first name, only that the rest of the guards called him Drake. He was there when Jack had last been to the Refuge and he made Race's life a living hell.

"You ain't goin' back there, kid. I swear." Jack hugged Race closer and brought the boy's head up to his shoulder as they both stared aimlessly ahead.

"Why does this happen ta me, Jack?" Race chocked out.

Jack sniffled and kissed his brothers soft, curly hair. "I'm so sorry kid...".

That's all he said. What else could he say? He couldn't fix it. He couldn't give Race back his innocence or his childhood. They both needed to face the facts. Race had been taken advantage of. They ripped away his optimistic outlook and his childlike wonder. Right now, he was just a terrified kid. His terrified little brother. His terrified little brother who had been raped. And Jack wasn't about to let it happen again.

Poor Race. I just love to torture him. It's so sad. Anyways...

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