Race

Race is becoming accustomed to waking up suddenly and at random. This makes it the third time tonight.

The first time had been a surprise visit from Spot. He'd been happy to his friend, but that happiness had quickly become overshadowed by fear that he would be locked up in this place too. Spot had been a good distraction though and it had felt nice to get some of his feelings out of his head. Sure, he was surrounded by other kids, but they were littler than him and he didn't want to scare them more by sharing his thoughts.

The next time he'd been woken up was by one of those little kids who said his name was Johnny. He'd come up to Race with eyes filled with tears; just woken up from a nightmare. Not knowing what else to do, he'd spread his arms wide for a hug and let the kid curl up in to his side and fall asleep in his embrace.

Now it was light out, but just barely. It wasn't too much past the time he would have been woken up by the morning bell at the boarding house. By now he should have already jumped off his top bunk, had his morning "argument" with Jack, and bought his papes for a day of selling at the racetracks. But no. He's here. In the Refuge. And he's just been woken by the door of this room slamming open to reveal the portly man he's come to assume is Snyder.

"Up! All of you get up!" The man yells and Race jumps from his place on the bed, pulling some of the littles with him. He stands at the foot of the bed, rubbing his hands in his eyes to try and clear them of sleep.

When Race looks back over towards the door, the man who has come to wake them all is still standing in the doorway, scowling at everyone and everything.

"Okay all of you rats; time to get cleaning. I want this place spotless," Snyder growls. No one in the room makes a move, either from fear or misunderstanding, Race is not sure.

The man punches the door so that it slams back in to the wall behind it. "Downstairs. Cleaning. Now," he commands, emphasizing each word.

Out of fear that the man will turn his fists towards them in place of the building if nothing happens, Race grabs the hands of the two littles on either side of him and starts making his way towards the door. He can hear the shuffles of the other littles following his lead as he exits the doorway. Snyder gives him a sick smile as he passes.

Once downstairs, Race looks around, unsure of what to do, until he catches site of an open closet door. It's overflowing with brooms, buckets, cloths, and other such cleaning supplies. He tugs along the two littles whose hands he is still holding and makes his way towards the closet. He releases the hand on his right to grab a bucket and some brushes.

Race looks to his right to see the little whose hand he just released was Johnny and jerks his head towards the hallway to indicate that the littler boy should still follow him even though he can't hold his hand. The little kid seems to understand and sleepily stumbles along beside him.

From the very end of the hallway where they'd dropped to the floor to scrub it, Race can see the steady stream of kids, mostly boys but a couple girls are interspersed as well, appear from the stairs and continue on to find something to clean. A couple of small fist fights break out over by the closet but they end quickly and without much fanfare.

The stream of kids finally comes to a halt without any sign of Jack and Race glances up from the floor to watch Snyder thump down the stairs. The man gives one cursory, sweeping glance at all his prisoners cleaning his building for him before making his way over to his office and slamming the door.

The motion reminds Race of the slamming door after Jack was thrown down in to the basement upon their arrival at this place and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he wonders if that is where Jack still is. He's currently cleaning a section of the floor about a foot away from the basement door that Jack had been pushed through. Race tentatively scoots ahead that foot and knocks on the door, straining his ears to see if he can hear any sign of life from the other side.

"What you doing rat?" A deep voice growls out from behind him.

Race slowly turns his head to see one of the goons that had brought him and Jack in standing over him and slowly scoots back to the part of the floor he'd been cleaning moments prior.

"Oh, um, nothing. Just thought I saw a mark on the door," he anxiously replies, hoping it's enough for the man to leave him alone.

The man crosses his arms and gives him a look that he takes to mean that his lie wasn't truly believed. "Just get back to work and stay away from that door you little rat," the man finally says before stalking back over towards the middle of the downstairs open area to watch over everyone cleaning.

A couple minutes later, while he is cleaning the area directly in front of the door, Race is taking every chance he can to "accidentally" knock on the door. He's using everything at his disposal, the brush, the bucket, his elbows, everything. No matter what he does he can't hear any sort of response from the other side.

Just as he's about to move past the door, Race glances over at the man to find him facing the other way and decides to risk knocking one more time. He takes one last glance at the man over his shoulder before pressing his ear to the door and knocking three times as loudly as he thinks he can knock without tipping off anyone else to his actions.

The three knocks echo in his ear and yet he still doesn't hear anything from the other side. What he does hear; however, are heavy footsteps coming up to halt beside him and before he can even turn around to look at the man there are fingers wrapped in his hair and pulling him upright. Race hisses at the pain and throws his hands up to his head to try and pull the man's hand out of his hair. He internally curses himself for the tears involuntarily forming in the corners of his eyes. Behind the man he can make out the faces of the two littles he'd been cleaning with staring at him in shock. He hopes they stay out of it. He doesn't want to see them hurt. They are already scared enough as it is.

"Aww, does that hurt?" The man taunts.

Race is too scared to answer.

The man shakes him and spits, "You got ta answer me ya little rat."

Race nods and it causes more painful tugging of his hair, even with his hands wrapped around the man's wrist, trying to relieve the tension.

"You wanna know what's in that room, do ya?" The man darkly chuckles.

Race slowly nods again, but by the time he does so, the man is already pulling a large keyring out of his pocket and is unlocking the door. It swings open to reveal nothing but darkness and Race involuntarily shivers.

"Well here ya go," the man shouts as he tosses Race in to the darkness.

He only gets a moment, mid-air, to enjoy the relief of no longer being held up by his hair before he's tumbling down a set of stairs. By the time he rolls to a stop at the bottom, the door he's just been thrust through is already slammed shut. Race lays there on the ground for a good couple of moments, waiting for the wave of pain to subside and hoping his eyes adjust to the darkness enough to let him see his new surroundings.

When his eyes have adjusted enough that he can see some outlines of shadows inside the room, Race slowly pushes himself in to a sitting position and tries to get a better sense of his surroundings and possibly get a glimpse of Jack. What he finds is a barren room with a dirt floor. No windows, doors, furniture or anything to make it more than just another empty cell with the set of stairs he'd just fallen down.

"Jack?" He tentatively calls out in to the darkness when he doesn't see any other sign of life. He hopes Jack is here. He needs Jack. He needs his friend, no, brother. And he thinks Jack probably needs him too, not that he'd ever admit it.

"Racer? 'S that you?" He hears Jack's voice come from somewhere else in the darkness.

Race feels the largest smile he's smiled in days spread across his face as he calls out in to the darkness, "Yeah Jackie, where are ya? I don't see ya." He starts crawling away from his position at the base of the stairs towards the center of the room, hoping to get a glimpse of where his friend is hiding.

"I's under the stairs Racer. What ya do ta get yerself tossed down here?" Jack's voice asks, more softly this time.

As he hears Jack speak, Race turns towards the direction of the voice and finally sees his friend huddled under the stairs. Race crawls over towards him to get a better look and seek out some comfort.

Jack reaches out and grabs his arm to pull him under the stairs to sit huddled over beside him before scooting over to give him more room. The area under the stairs is cramped and Race is squished in to his friend's side, but he still finds enough room to squeeze his arm behind Jack and hold his friend in a hug. Like always, Jack stiffens under his touch, and Race swears he can feel his friend's heart beating hard enough to jump out of his chest

Still not relaxing in to his embrace, Jack lets out a sigh beside him and again asks, "Why's ya down 'ere Racer?"

Race lays his head on his friend's shoulder, wanting nothing more than more him to relax and answers, "We was cleanin' tha dawnstairs and I didn't see ya so I knocked on tha door I saw ya get pushed in ta when we got's here-"

"And one of the Spider's goon saw ya and decided if ya was so interested in that door ya should just be locked down here too?" Jack finished for him.

Race nods in to Jack's shoulder, where his head is still resting and tightens his embrace a little. Jack exhales through his teeth in pain and Race immediately pulls himself off of his friend.

"Jack," he cautiously begins. "Ya hurt?"

Even in the darkness, Race can see his friend wave off his question before wrapping his arm around Race's shoulders. " 'S just a couple scratches Racer, nothing ta worry about."

Race doesn't believe Jack, not one bit, but he knows Jack won't talk about it and there's not much he can do in the dark to try and help anyways. He leans in to Jack's touch and takes comfort in his friend's presence.

He doesn't know how long they sat there in silence before he finally speaks up, "Spot came and visited last night. Was wonderin' where we was."

Jack snorts before replying, "He was wonderin' where you was Racer, not me."

"Nuh-uh, he asked me where you was and said he didn't see you in any of the other rooms he looked in," Race hastily assures, more than a little concerned by Jack's attitude. Jack is Spot's friend too. He should know that.

"Sure Racer," Jack concedes tiredly and suddenly it dawns on Race that his friend sounds downright exhausted, like he hasn't slept in ages. He mentally kicks himself for not noticing something that should be obvious to him with how close he and Jack are.

"Jack, when'd ya last sleep? Ya sound real tired," Race asks.

Jack hums and Race can feel him shifting to tug on his shirt a bit with the arm that's not draped across his shoulders. "I don't know Racer. We's been here five night I think." There's a pause of uncomfortable silence. "I sleep bits and pieces when I can."

Race thinks he knows where Jack's statement is going and pushes, "It scares ya to sleep here, don't it?"

Jack sharply exhales beside him and Race knows he's hit the mark. "I told ya before how sometimes I can't stop thinkin' 'bout this place? Being back here, its…I-"

"I think I's got what ya mean Jackie, ya don't have ta finish," Race cuts off his friend. He's almost certain Jack was going to ramble on some nonsense about not being able to escape from this place in his sleep and Race doesn't need to make him say that.

"Thanks Racer," Jack yawns out beside him and rests his head on Race's shoulder. It's a testament to how tired Jack is that he's being this touchy with him.

Another long while passes in silence and Jack's breathing has slowed down to a point that Race is sure his friend is finally getting some much-needed sleep. He can't hear anything from beyond the confines of the room and wonder how long he's been down here with Jack. And how Jack could possibly know how long exactly he's been down here.

The door to the room slams open and floods little light in to the room. It must be nighttime already.

"Sssshhhhh," Jack whispers out beside him as he throws his arm out in front of Race. "If he's drunk enough he won't think ta look under here and will just go back upstairs."

Race's heart speeds up with each heavy footstep that draws closer to them.

"Ah, fuck," the man whispers and suddenly there is a candle lit and orange light flickering in the dark room. It gets brighter as the sounds of footsteps come closer.

"Shit," Jack spits outs under his breath and quickly turns to Race and whispers, "He's not drunk enough to forget I's here, but hopefully he forgot or doesn't knows yous here so stay put, got it?"

Race barely has time to give Jack a shaky nod before a hand appears near their feet and Jack pushed his own ankle in to it's grasp.

"Got ya!" The man giggles as he pulls Jack out from their hiding spot. He's definitely drunk, just not as drunk as Jack had clearly been hoping. He's never heard an adult man giggle like that and he can smell the rank alcohol drifting off his clothes.

Race can't see much of what's happening from his place under the stairs, where his view is blocked by the wood paneling at the edge. He can; however, see the shadows in the candlelight of Jack getting soaked. Besides the sounds of flesh hitting flesh and the man's grunts of exertion, the basement is filled with an eerie silence.

He almost wishes Jack would cry out or say something just so he can know his friend is alive.

He shouldn't have wished that.

He hears Jack cry out in pain and it's accompanied by the man taunting, "Oh, hit a sore spot did I?"

The man must have taken another brutal kick at Jack because the next sound is undeniably a forced exhale, like Jack has been hit in the stomach and has had all the air knocked out of him.

Race knows Jack will be mad at him, but he can't take just sitting by and listening to his friend's pain anymore. He ducks out from under the staircase, finds where Jack is splayed out on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach, and throws himself over his friend. Jack seems to be out cold and doesn't make any motion to indicate that he's noticed Race has disobeyed him again.

The first kick hurts. A lot. But every one that follows seems to hurt exponentially more so. Race isn't sure if the man has even noticed that he's no longer kicking the same boy. If he's said anything, he hasn't heard it on account of the sound of his heart pounding drowning out all else. He tries to focus on one thing only, and that's covering Jack as much as his smaller body can.

Like everything else that happened in this awful room, Race has no idea how long the soaking continues before he feels Jack start to squirm underneath him. He opens his eyes to see Jack's own slowly open, the green a startling standout in the bruises he can now see in the candlelight.

Faster than he thought Jack was capable of in his current state, Jack flips them over so their places are reversed and he's once again taking a bulk of the man's abuse. Race tries his best to once again reverse their positions, but Jack's grip on his upper arms prevents him from moving much at all.

"Get off me Jack!" He tries to yell out, but it comes out as more of a whine.

Jack glares at him and through gritted teeth replies, "Shut. Up. Racer. I tolds ya ta stay under tha stairs." He slams his eyes shut and winces as the man continues to soak them.

Race fights the urge to fight off his friend's grip and try to once again reverse their positions. Jack doesn't need to fight off both him and the man at once. He hates to admit it, but he would probably just make Jack more hurt in the process.

Suddenly the rain of kicks and punches stops and Race is grateful for whoever made that happen until he hears another increasingly familiar voice growling, "Enough. You's done enough. I told you I wanted him conscious." It's followed by heavy footsteps retreating from the room.

The new man's footsteps come closer until Race can see his shiny shoes. "So, you two do know each other. How cute, little Kelly made a friend."

Jack's weight is suddenly pulled off of him and Race watches as he falls to the ground at his side. Jack's awake, evidenced by his glare directed at the new man, Snyder, but his breathing is fast and he's got an arm wrapped around his stomach so that his hand covers a bloody patch of his shirt above his hip.

"Should I keep him down here with us Kelly, hmmmm? So he can watch you pay for what you've cost me by running away your last couple of visits?" He pauses, just to be dramatic, Race thinks, "Or maybe he could join you?"

Snyder has barely finished speaking before Jack spits out, "You leave 'im alone. Your problems are with me. I's tha one that cost ya."

Snyder's smile is bright in the dimly lit room and it makes Race want to be sick, "Look at you, admitting to your mistakes just because I threatened your little friend. Maybe I should keep him around after all."

"Leave. Him. Alone," Jack spits as he forces himself in to a sitting position and places himself between Snyder and Race.

Thank you for reading! As always, reviews are always appreciated and loved!