Prompt: Ransacked

Characters: Jake & Noah

Words: 989

Jake can't stop shaking. He was just out playing basketball. It was just a night like any other night. And he came home. Got to his homework late, as usual. It was around midnight when he heard the window break. When he heard all their stuff being thrown around. When he heard two voices talking. His mom screaming.

Before he did anything else, Jake grabbed his cell phone and called 911. He knew the best thing he could do was get help to them no matter what was going on. So, he pressed his body to the floor beside his bed and answered questions in short whispers. Jake knew his mom was protecting him right now. (He could hear her begging them to leave; never once mentioning anyone else in the house.) So, he was doing all he could to protect her.

The minutes he waited were agony. It killed him to stay where he was during this, but it was like he physically could not move.

"Tell them to hurry," Jake whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

The hospital waiting room was lonely. It smelled like medicine and coffee. He wanted to go home, but it was past 3 a.m. and it didn't look like that was happening anytime soon. His mom had been badly injured. He'd seen her in the back of the ambulance. Pale and bleeding from so many places.

After a while, some lady came to talk to him. She made him suspicious with her questions, about whether he had other family. Or anyplace to go.

"Why?" he asked, not yet able to control his shaking.

"Because I'm a social worker and it's my job to make sure kids are safe."

"My mom kept me safe," Jake said softly, anger burning in his eyes. "She could have called out for me, but she never did. Not once."

"I understand that. It sounds like you, and she, did everything right tonight. The fact is, though, that your mom is going to be here for a while and you need a place to go while she recovers. Do you have any other family?"

Jake heard what she didn't say. That if he couldn't come up with other family to stay with, he'd end up in the system. So he racked his tired brain. His dad was out of the question and he didn't have grandparents.

"There is someone," Jake admitted quietly, and began to dial Puck's number.

By 3:30, Puck was there, approaching him cautiously. "Hey, bro. You okay?" he asked.

Jake shook his head. He noticed Sarah standing behind Puck. She was in pink pajamas, her hair a mess. Puck was in a wrinkled tee shirt and plaid drawstring pants. He really had gotten them out of bed for this. But unlike his dad, they had actually answered the phone. They actually came when he needed them.

Puck talked to the social worker a bit, and stood when he was finished.

"I can take you tomorrow to see your mom," Puck promised. "Do you want to stop by home and get your stuff?"

Jake didn't go home to get any of his stuff.

One walk-through of the house after the cops had told him it was safe to come out had been enough. Their sparse house had been destroyed. Valuables and electronics smashed. Blood and broken glass in the carpet. His scooter was in pieces. Right with everything else, it had been there, evidence that there was another person in the house. Somehow, those guys hadn't made the connection.

Instead, he got in the passenger side of Puck's car while Sarah curled in the back to sleep.

"Our mom's out," Puck volunteered quietly. "So, it'll be just the three of us, all right? You can have my room. I'll take the couch."

But Jake couldn't speak. He wanted to ask important questions. If their house had a burglar alarm. If Puck would be able to protect both himself and Sarah if someone broke in there.

He collapsed in his brother's bed, once home, turning down his offer of a tee shirt and some pants to sleep in. Jake was exhausted. There was school tomorrow.

"All right. Sarah's down the hall. I'll just be in the living room, all right?" Puck said, hovering a little in the doorway to his own bedroom.

Jake still felt every single word he meant to say damned up at the base of his throat. So, he just nodded, and pulled the blankets up around him, trying to convince himself his heart wasn't still racing. That he wasn't still shaking.

But hours later, when he found himself pressed to the floor beside Puck's bed, Jake couldn't deny it anymore. With a shaking hand, he groped for his cell phone and stared at the names and numbers there.

Kitty

Marley

Mike

Millie

Ryder

Unique

He highlighted one, and willed his voice not to shake as he spoke. He knew she'd be awake. The only one he would be at 5:30 in the morning.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Rose? It's Jake…"

"Morning, Jake. Is everything okay?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Actually, no," he managed.

"Well, I'll do anything I can to help," she said sincerely.

"I know," he whispered. "I just…could you tell Marley I don't think I'll make it to school today?"

"Sure, hon'. Do you need anything? I've got soup ingredients on hand. Homemade chicken noodle," she said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"No, thanks. I'm really not that hungry." Jake forced the words out and then, unable to say anymore, he hung up. Silence filled his ears but it was filled with memories of breaking glass. Of his mom screaming. Of his own whispers. Of his own fear.

He couldn't move. So Jake just waited for someone to come and give him the all-clear. To tell him that it was safe to move.

The End.