Hello! I present to you chapter two, finished WAY earlier than I imagined! I'm basically posting these as soon as I finish them, so I apologize if there are any errors. If I catch them later, I'll fix them. Hope you enjoy the second chapter! Return of the Guardians does not belong to me.

~~GF~~

Jack had never seen so many mistreated animals in his life as he did when he first stepped foot in the Red Coat's rickety barn. He took in his new workplace, which was lit with several lanterns. It was a relatively roomy one-level, with a loft for storage. It would also make a good, warm place to sleep for Mary and himself, Jack thought. The Red Coats' intention to stay camped here for a long time was apparent in the amount of work that looked to have gone into the foundation, but the rest of the barn was shoddy and full of holes. It was obvious that those who had built the barn had no clue what they were doing past the groundwork.

Of the animals there, Jack noted several horses, two cows, a dozen hens, a flock of sheep, three goats and a number of pigs. Jack could only guess how many towns had been raided for the British supply of farm animals to be this plentiful. After taking note of the number of animals now in his care, Jack then noticed the appearance of the animals. The old officer had been right when he said that their knowledge of large animals was little, because these animals were barely held together with what muscle they had left. The horses looked well worked-out, but they were covered in cuts and scrapes. One mare was swollen around the left rear fetlock joint.

"As you can see, you'll have your work cut out for you," the officer who had escorted them to the barn spoke to Jack, who had nothing to say as he stared, open-mouthed at the poor animals before him. He walked to one of the cows and rubbed his hand along her back.

"When was the last time the cows were milked, sir?" he asked.

"…A few days ago, I believe," the officer answered. This particular officer seemed relatively kind-hearted and Jack's innate sense of character could tell that as long as he remained polite, this guard would stay civil.

"They need to be milked every day or they will get infected, sir."

"No use telling me; it's your job now. Orders are you are to stay here. Do not exit the barn unless to use the outhouse, when the slaves are called for supper, or when an officer requests that you aid him elsewhere. You will have two meals a day and if you are caught stealing food, you will be severely punished. You are being given an incredible amount of freedom for slaves, but if you are caught escaping, we will track you down and have you killed. No exceptions. That is all."

With that, the guard turned around and shut the large barn doors behind him, leaving Jack and Mary alone for the first time in several hours. The second they were sure they were alone, Mary curled herself into a ball where she stood, put her head in her knees and started to cry openly. Jack crouched next to her and rubbed her back soothingly. When, after a few minutes, she showed no sign of moving, he gently picked her up and carried her over to a pile of hay and lay her in it. She curled into a fetal position and continued to weep.

"It's alright, Mary," Jack said brightly, trying to ease the tension of their situation. He stood up and looking around, "It's not that bad. This barn is a lot like the one at home. We've got it to ourselves. And I'm good at taking care of animals—we'll get by. It'll be alright."

"I miss Mama," Mary's voice shook between sobs, "This barn isn't like the one at home because Mama's not across the way. I want Mama."

"I know you do. I do too," Jack admitted. This wasn't something he would normally admit, but he felt that showing Mary that he understood was the best way to calm her and show her that they were in this thing together.

"Are we going to die here?" Mary asked as a wind promised with winter flew through the cracks of the barn and caused the lanterns to flutter. Mary's question haunted Jack; she was so young and he wished that he could have found a way to keep her from this reality. Jack's quick thinking had saved her from a worse fate, but to wake up in the morning with freedom and to lose it before sleep took you that night was a horrible realization. It grew and festered in the pit of Jack's stomach. But at least they were together. They could get through anything if they had each other.

"Didn't you hear the soldier?" Jack said, "As long as we keep to our work, we'll be fine. And Mama said that they'll find us. I'm sure she's sent a letter to Pa already. Pa'll know what to do."

Mary nodded, giving Jack a weak smile through her tears. She wiped her nose on the sleeve of the over-sized shirt she wore and sat up, brushing hay from her hair.

"Well, there's no use getting to work tonight. It's probably past midnight," Jack said with finality, "We'll wake up tomorrow and milk these poor cows and fix up the horses. I'll show you how to collect the hen's eggs."

Jack's attempt at giving Mary a sense of comfort in a schedule seemed to help relax her and her eyelids drooped a little.

"Hey, don't go to sleep there!" Jack said, shaking Mary back into the waking world, "You'll catch a cold and that won't do us any good. Go up into the loft—it'll be warmer there anyway."

Mary nodded again and made for the ladder that led up to the loft. Jack took a moment to pet the heads and noses of the nearest animals before making a round around the barn to extinguish the lanterns. He didn't put out the final lantern and instead took it with him when he climbed to the overhanging eave himself. The loft was a lot larger than it looked from the ground and there was relatively new hay that had been placed there—most likely this was the sleeping place of the previous farm hand as well. Jack made his way over to where Mary had settled into the hay and curled up next to her, putting an arm around her middle and hugging her close to him. He blew out the candle in the lantern and the barn went dark for the night.

~~GF~~

The loud clucking of the chickens was what woke Mary up the next morning. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she felt so miserable, but when her memories from the previous night returned, the awful feeling in her stomach worsened.

"Jack?" she croaked sleepily, reaching a hand out to feel behind her where Jack had gone to sleep the previous night. All she felt was air.

Before she had time to panic, she heard Jack call from the ground, "You awake, Mary? I'm down here."

Mary crawled down the ladder as quickly as she could. She was never very good at crawling on ladders before but found that it was a lot easier when her legs were freed by Jack's trousers. There was far too much fabric to worry about when she wore her dress that she was all but useless when she looked girly. She found Jack sitting on a stool next to one of the cows. Underneath the cow was a bucket full of milk.

"You already milked the cow?" Mary asked, walking over to Jack and peering in the bucket.

"Yeah, both of them," Jack said, patting the cow's side. "The other cow's milk was no-good… it hadn't been milked a little longer than the soldier said. This one looks okay, though. But maybe we shouldn't use this milk either today, just to be on the safe side."

"Give it to the soldiers." Mary said.

"That'd probably kill some of them." Jack shrugged.

"And?" Mary said impishly.

Jack took a moment to stare at his sister before he laughed and patted her arm, "I knew I liked you."

The rest of the early morning was spent caring for the neglected animals. Jack showed Mary how to collect eggs from the indoor chicken roost and she busied herself with that chore, getting to know the chickens by their coloring. Meanwhile, Jack tended to the horses, some of whom were limping. He hated to see these beautiful animals so hurt. It wasn't so bad that any damage would be permanent, but there were definitely going to be infections to treat for a few days. Luckily, Jack's father had showed him how to perform first aid for animals without getting kicked or bitten.

One of the mares quickly became his favorite. She was a beautiful bay horse with a dark mane and forelock and a white diamond shape on her head. She bore what Jack crudely identified as whiplashes. It was obvious that she had been put through her paces and was paying for it. Jack decided to name her Margaret, after his maternal grandmother. He wasn't sure why, but he felt the name fit. The horse next to Margaret was a tall, jet-black horse that tried to bite Jack when he approached cautiously.

"You'll be Mindy, after my other grandmother," Jack proclaimed to the horse, "She tried to bite me too, once. Granted, I bit her first…" Jack laughed lightly at his youthful memories. When Mindy had tried to get a four-year-old Jack to take a bath, he vehemently refused. She had attempted to force him in the metal tub and he bit her hand. Mindy never forgave him for that and spent the rest of her life showing off the wounds she had obtained in her battles with Jack.

Once all the animals were cared for, the air in the stable cleared a little. Mary had finished collecting the eggs and the two buckets of supposedly sour cow's milk had been dumped. The goat's milk had been fine, though, so Jack set those buckets near the eggs that Mary had placed on the windowsill.

It was then that Jack heard a triangle ring from a small distance away. He hadn't been told what the call was for breakfast, but he assumed that this was it. Mary, who had been preening the sheep's wool, looked up from her work curiously.

"How about some breakfast?" Jack said, standing up and arching his back both ways to pop it. She nodded and they both went outside. It was freezing outside and neither of them had thought to bring a jacket, so they huddled close together to share their warmth. Jack's guess at the breakfast alert had been correct, because he saw other boys, some he knew and some he didn't, walking towards a large tent. The other boys had been assigned jobs that required them to know their way around the camp, so Jack followed them.

When he reached the tent, the cook handed him and Mary each a bowl of a gray-colored gruel.

"Bonny apatite," he said, chuckling at his botched attempt at speaking French. Though he had laughed, the cook was large and had sharp eyes that were as cold as the winter wind. There was nothing friendly about him. Before Jack could take his bowl of gruel and follow Mary, Cook shot a hand out and grabbed his shoulder roughly.

"Boy, where's the food?" he asked gruffly.

"Sorry?" Jack said, slightly annoyed that the jerking stop had caused some of his breakfast to slop over the edge of the bowl and seep into the dirt floor.

"You're the new farmhand, aren't you?" he said, "Them hens all stop giving eggs at once, did they?"

"I didn't realize I needed to bring them here, sir." Jack explained.

"Well, you do," Cook explained.

"Er… the milk was a bit sour, so I threw it away," Jack added delicately, unsure of how the news of wasted food, spoiled or not, would settle with this man. In hopes of redeeming himself, he added, "As soon as the milk is clear, sir, I'll bring it with me."

"And the eggs?"

"Them too, sir. We collected some this morning. I'll bring them here after breakfast."

The cook shook Jack roughly, "You'll bring them here now. I was waitin' on those eggs, boy. Your morning chores aren't done until you bring me those eggs."

With that, he seized Jack's half-spilled bowl of gruel from Jack's hands and pushed him through the tent flap. Jack sighed, frustrated and hungry before making his way back to the barn. Jack remembered vividly being told not to leave the barn; how on Earth was he supposed to interpret that as 'leave the barn to deliver stupid eggs to the stupid cook'? Red Coats…

Margaret whinnied at Jack as he entered the barn and Jack, with his stomach empty, wondered if hers was too. He'd have to ask someone.

Jack returned to the dining tent, his arms laden with the eggs and buckets of goat's milk.

Cook eyed him angrily as he approached and demanded, "I thought you said the milk was spoiled."

"The cow's milk is spoiled," Jack told him, "This is goat's milk."

"We have goats?" the cook said, his eyebrows raising, surprised.

"Yes," Jack answered. Cook harumfed and grabbed the buckets and eggs from Jack.

"Must have lifted those from the town yesterday…" he mumbled as he retreated into the tent. Jack knew those goats looked familiar: they had been the best-kept of the animals and didn't shy away from him when he first approached him as many of the animals had. They were his goats! It hadn't even crossed his mind that some of the soldiers would have been looting his farm while he turned his sister into his brother.

He followed Cook into the tent and walked back to the large pot of gruel, waiting for the insufferable man to serve him again. Cook noticed what Jack was doing and addressed him from across the pot, "No breakfast for you. Let that serve as a warning to do your chores properly tomorrow."

Jack was fed up with this man. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the tent as loudly as he could. It was an unfortunate time to have a dirt floor under him, because it muffled his angry steps and lessened the sound. Once he was outside, he figured he could spend this time asking about food and water for the animals. Hoping to find the officer from the previous night, Jack scanned the faces of the men in the camp, but there were hundreds of them. Finding one man in this sea of red was a near-impossible task. Jack instead looked around at the other structures. There were three other buildings beside the barn and they were all on opposite ends of the camp from each other. Across from the barn was the outhouse. To the barn's left was a building that Jack assumed was reserved for the higher-ranking officers and to the right of the barn was a stable for the military horses.

Making his decision quickly, Jack made off for the stables to see if he could find anyone there to help him. Inside the stable were more stalls than Jack bothered to count. A few men moved around inside, pushing wagons of manure, moving horses from stable to stable and carrying saddles and bridles. Jack selected one man who looked to be the least busy as he was just standing there and stroking the forelock of one particularly large horse.

"Excuse me," Jack began and the man looked at him sharply, thrown off by the different accent, "I work in the barn, but I don't know where to get food and water for the animals."

The man recovered and answered Jack, "You can get water at the pump, which is in the center of camp. You'll have to carry it yourself."

"And food? Grain?" Jack pressed. The man looked to be getting slightly more annoyed at Jack's pestering.

"We put hay in the barn every night," he said as though this solved everything.

"I've got chickens, pigs, goats, cows and sheep. They don't eat hay."

"Oh," the man answered, "Well, there are sacks of grain in the stall at the end of the stable. I suppose you can use that. The grass grows alright here, even in the winter, so whatever wants to can eat that."

"How about the pigs?" Jack chose his final question, "They eat leftovers, but I don't want to ask the cook for anything."

"Just tell him it's for the pigs and he'll give you some." the man said. With this, he gave the horse one last pat before turning and walking away. It was as though they all expected him to know everything the second he step foot in this stupid camp. Jack was getting really tired of this game.

~~GF~~

Mary met Jack at the stable doors. The boys had finished eating and were now heading back to their chores. Meanwhile, Jack had busied himself with grabbing as many bags of feed as he could carry. Mary took the top bag off of the pile without a word.

"Have a good breakfast?" Jack asked.

"I'm sorry," she said.

Jack laughed. "Why on Earth are you sorry?"

"I didn't realize that you weren't there. Are you hungry?"

"A little," Jack said, "But I'll keep until dinner. I'm sure the animals are hungrier than I am. Let's feed them, shall we?"

Mary nodded and they pushed the door open. Inside were an officer and a boy with dark skin whose hair was shaved almost to his scalp. He looked to be about Mary's age with a scrawny build and big, dark eyes.

"Ah, perfect timing," the solider said and Jack recognized him as the guard he had been searching for, fifteen minutes earlier, "This is your new friend. He was taken from a front early this morning. He'll be working with you both for the foreseeable future. Help him to learn his way around the camp."

"It's difficult to show him the ropes if I don't know all of them myself, sir," Jack quipped, annoyed at the level of difficulty he was having with everything that morning.

"Don't talk to me that way, or I'll report you to the General," he said. Jack was taken aback; he hadn't expected this man to return the retort so threateningly. Before he could apologize, the officer left.

"Well," Jack said, breaking the tension and raising his arms as if to show off a home proudly, "Welcome to our humble abode."

The dark-skinned boy scrutinized Jack for a moment before saying, "You don't talk like them."

"We were captured last night, in Burgess," he explained.

"This is my brother, Jack and I'm Matthew," Mary said. "What's your name?"

"Coffee," the boy answered. Mary and Jack looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"That's a drink," Jack said finally.

Coffee looked at him angrily, "That's the name my old masters gave me."

"You were a slave before, too?" Mary asked, awed. Burgess was a town full of Caucasian people—none of them kept slaves; none of them liked the idea of slavery. Jack liked it even less now that he was experiencing the opposite side of the coin.

"Yeah," Coffee said, "One master to the next. They caught me when I was fetchin' water for the missus." He jerked his thumb towards the barn door.

"Well, I don't like the name 'Coffee'." Mary said after thinking for a while, her thumb to her mouth. "May I give you a new name?"

"Sure. Don't matter to me." Coffee said, shrugging.

"Let's see… how about…" Mary looked around the barn for inspiration before saying, "Franklin. That's my favorite uncle's name. It's also the surname of Benjamin Franklin, who opposes slavery. I learned that last week in school."

The boy thought for a moment before he nodded approvingly. And thus, Franklin became a friend of the two children who gave him his first real name.

~~GF~~

With Franklin helping them, the workload became much easier. Though he revealed himself to have mostly been an indoor slave at his previous home, he was quite knowledgeable about the care of animals. He helped Jack to fix wounds and infections that Jack hadn't been sure how to handle before. He was a hard worker and a nice boy. Jack liked him immediately and especially liked that he was kind to Mary, who was still getting used to this more rough-and-tumble way of living.

It took nearly a week to get a handle of how to work around camp without making anyone mad, but Jack was finally able to keep the animals happy without getting himself into trouble. The hardest thing for him was getting to Cook with the eggs and milk before Cook expected him. The time limit Cook gave him changed every day, varying with Cook's mood. Half the time, he was relatively happy to accept the food with and half the time Jack had to drop the food and run. On those days, Jack learned not to expect a breakfast. But dinner was always there, so he didn't mind much. He also started keeping a few eggs for himself, so as far as he knew, the joke was on Cook.

He knew that she would worry about him getting caught, so Jack didn't tell Mary about his new hoarding habit. He always cooked the eggs up on a makeshift tin over several lantern lights while Mary and Franklin left to have their morning gruel.

As far as Jack knew, Mary's true gender was still a secret to Franklin and while he knew the boy wouldn't tell if he ever found out, he thought it would be safer to keep that skeleton just between himself and Mary.

One morning, when Jack and Franklin were milking the newly healed cows, Mary came running to them from the chicken coop, yelling at them to come see what she had found. Jack and Franklin followed her curiously. Underneath one of the roosts lay five young kittens, nursing from their mother cat.

The mother cat was a beautiful orange and white cat, but she was so thin that Jack wondered exactly how much milk she was able to produce for her kittens. The kittens' colors varied. Some were orange, like their mother and others were different patterns of black and orange. None of their eyes were opened and from what Jack could see, their umbilical cords had yet to dry up and fall off.

"They're so cute!" Mary said. She had always wanted a cat and now there were six of them laying before her. She reached out to touch one of the kittens, but Jack grabbed her hand.

"Wait. We don't know how trusting the mother is," he said. He started to make gentle clicking noises with his tongue and reached out a hand to the mother cat. She sniffed his fingers gently and allowed him to pet her head. He scratched behind her ears and she purred. The kittens at her belly kneaded faster, obviously pleased that their mother was pleased.

"How about that?" Franklin said, "A litter of kittens! They're prolly scaring the hens half t' death. D'you think we can move them?"

"I don't know," Jack said, "We can try, but if the mama cat doesn't like it, she'll move them right back."

"Let's try," Mary said, "It's too cold in here for them anyway."

They spent the next few minutes picking the kittens up gently. The kittens, terrified, starting mewing squeakily, but their mother, sensing no danger, allowed herself to be picked up as well.

"She probably belonged to someone," Jack said as he cradled her, pet her head and set one of her kittens on top of her, "She's not skittish at all."

It was Franklin's genius idea to give the mother some of the milk from the buckets that he and Jack had abandoned underneath the cows. The mother lapped it up hungrily and then returned to her kittens.

"She's probably a lot happier now," Mary said. "Can I name her?"

"Why not?" Jack said, "I can't see the Red Coats not liking having cats here. They make good hunters for rats."

Mary squealed happily (Franklin looked at her as though she was out of her gourd) and went about thinking of names. As Jack and Franklin checked for the genders of the kittens, Mary would name them. Soon they had Flossie, the mother, her two girls, Flora and Poppy, and her boys, Clancy, Clayton and Clifford. Mary spent the rest of the day watching them out of wonder. Franklin watched them too, but only to check and see if Flossie was able to produce enough milk for her kittens. When he was satisfied, he left Mary to her gawking and went to work shearing the sheep, shaking his head and laughing at this strange boy.

~~GF~~

Things are pretty light-hearted now (I say as I write a story about slavery), but from what I've got planned, Jack and Mary's situation will turn be turning South very shortly. Stay tuned to see what fate has in store for them next!

It's amazing how writing a ten-paged paper in college was a long, uphill battle and yet I just churned this 9 1/2 paged chapter out in a couple of hours. The world is a strange thing.

And reviews, while not necessary, are ALWAYS appreciated! :)