Author's Note

.｡｡*ﾟi hope you're staying safe and being kind to yourself! .｡｡*ﾟ

Love youuu 💗

Chapter Text

HOUSE OF REFUGE, 1897

The committee meeting was scheduled for December 23rd. The night prior was a restless one.

During rollcall before bed, it was painful to see the empty gap in line where Calico once stood. Jack was so shaken by the boy's absence that it took him longer than usual to fall asleep.

He could hear Tide and Grim talking late into the night, discussing Calico's death, their memories of him – both sad and happy ones. Jack squinted in the moonlight, seeing Grim had hopped down from the upper bunk and sat with Tide on his lower one.

Tide was sprawled out, his head against the wall, trying to keep his voice at a whisper. Grim was listening most of the time, throwing in a few comments here and there. His knees were pulled up to his chest, and he'd wrapped his blanket around his shoulders to keep warm.

That night was a brutally cold one, and the broken windows had come back to haunt them for their misdeeds. It had started to snow again, blizzard-like. The boys had done their best to fasten sheets over the bars, trying to block out the chill.

As Tide continued to talk, Grim paused, hearing whispers behind him in the darkness. He turned around, finding Jack and Fleet out of bed across the room, having a whispered argument. Finally Fleet hushed Jack and made his way over to Tide and Grim's bunk with Jack following behind.

The younger boys draped their blankets around their shoulders, shivering uncontrollably. "Hi, Tide. Hi, Grim," Fleet said sheepishly when Tide went quiet.

Grim offered a small smile, trying to hide the tears in his eyes from reminiscing about his dead friend.

It made Jack's heart ache to see his hero so distraught.

"May we help you?" Grim asked with an air of teasing, watching the boys' faces redden in the faint glow of the winter moon.

"Jack was scared about Whalen coming in and thought it would be a good idea if we came and sat by you," Fleet said quickly, avoiding eye contact and clutching his blanket tighter around himself.

Jack shot Fleet a disappointed look. "No, I didn't. You're the one who's scared."

Grim sensed this wasn't just about Whalen being the monster under the bed. He figured they were beyond nervous about the operation. And still shaken from Calico's death, no doubt. Either way, they both seemed so ashamed and exhausted – guilty, even.

Sighing wearily, Grim exchanged a knowing look with Tide. There was no point in coddling the younger boys, but Grim didn't want to lose anyone else. He didn't think he could handle that. Not again.

Tide relented. "Okay, just for a little while—"

Before he could even finish that sentence, Fleet and Jack practically dove onto his bed, making themselves comfortable. Grim and Tide had to adjust their positions to make room.

Another gust of wind billowed through the window, sounding like a banshee scream. The disturbing noise made the younger boys jump, followed by another urgent shuffling of feet in the distance.

Grim rolled his eyes and peered out into the darkness to find Doc, who looked pale as a ghost as he got out of bed.

All Grim said was, "Come on," as he ushered the sixteen-year-old over. Doc almost tripped over Jack's outstretched leg, crawling onto Tide's bed with his own blanket.

"It's a party over here," Tide muttered, scooting over once again.

Not seconds after he said that there was more movement as others got out of their bunks. Cards, Marquette, and Shakespeare appeared out of thin air, it seemed to Jack.

Cards turned around, whispering behind him, "Are you coming?"

And from the shadows emerged Rails, River, Lion, Atlas, Z, Crazy, and No Name – all holding their blankets and tiptoeing over.

"You gotta be kidding me," Tide groaned, shaking his head.

"Well, we're not scared," Crazy explained. "We were just checking to see if you fellas were okay. But us? Not even a little worried or nothin'—"

Grim wiped his eyes tiredly. "Just get over here already," he said.

Tide crossed his arms. "This ain't gonna work. You'll have to sit on the floor."

The others didn't mind, sitting around Grim and Tide's bunk, draping blankets on the floor and pulling ragged quilts around themselves to keep warm.

Grim made his way over to the abandoned bunks, throwing down pillows to those on the floor.

They all huddled in like survivors of a shipwreck, resting against one another.

Grim and Tide seemed to realize at once that if things went horribly at the board meeting the next morning, they might all be permanently separated. Forced into solitary cells. Moved to other reformatories. This could very well be the last night they were all together.

Anything was better than being alone.

Somehow, Grim was talked into telling a bedtime story – the kind he used to tell the other kids at the orphanage he'd grown up in. The kind from the Grimm Brothers' fairytales.

Doc made sure everyone was warm and secure with enough blankets, worrying about them getting hypothermia.

Jack felt his eyelids grow heavy, threatening to close as exhaustion overtook him. Tide didn't shove Jack off when the younger boy began to lean against him, practically falling asleep on his shoulder.

Grim stopped the story mid-sentence when Alexei appeared next to the bed. The sudden silence woke Jack up.

The other boys turned, surprised to see him there.

"There's a better way to do this without freezing to death," Alexei said, staring at the shivering boys strewn about on the floor before calling over his shoulder, "ain't that right, Muggs?"

Jack craned his neck, trying to see further into the dark room. A low scraping noise rumbled the room, like nails on a chalkboard. Grim stood, following the noise with his eyes until he saw Muggs behind the next bunk over, pushing it across the floor.

Alexei looked down at the boys lying around. "I'd move."

That was enough to get them to get out of the way as Muggs pushed the bunk bed up next to Grim and Tide's, joining the two. Muggs looked expectantly at Grim. "You just gonna fuckin' stand there?"

With a reluctant smile, Grim followed Alexei and Muggs to push another bunk bed close, urging the others to help.

Pretty soon, all nine of the bunk beds were pushed together in a tight line – the joined mattresses, blankets, and pillows created one, long stretch of bedding.

The boys piled in, half in the upper bunks, and half in the lower, sharing blankets and body warmth.

"Rails, get off my arm," Lion complained, trying to roll over.

"I can't do that until Z moves," Rails growled, smacking Z's forehead.

Jack was quiet, sandwiched on the upper bunks between Grim and Muggs. Alexei was on the other side of Muggs, nearest to the edge.

"Duane Street," Muggs nudged Jack, giving him a sharp side glare. "If you kick me, I swear to God, I'll slit your throat in your sleep."

Jack blinked, mulling the statement over. "If you steal my blanket, I'll do the same," he mumbled back. "But I'll wake you up before I do it so you suffer slow."

Grim raised his eyebrows, staring up at the ceiling.

Muggs didn't reply, his lips curling into something of a half-smirk. He turned over, whispering to Alexei, "He's alright, that kid."