Author's Note

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

Love youuu 💗

𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ️

MANHATTAN 1899

It happened after Jack had rescued the Jacobs' siblings from the Delancey's. The timing of it all was far too close in proximity for Jack's liking. He'd fended off two hooligans, saved his companions, and stopped scabbing all in the span of half an hour.

And now this.

When Jack found Sophie in the upstairs room at Medda's, she was curled up like a newborn pup in her bed, wearing the dingy violet calico dress she wore in the summer months. Her blonde hair was wild, having come out of its long braid. She was asleep, grasping a thin blanket and sniffling every few seconds. Her face was sweaty and ashen. Big dark-colored circles had formed under her eyes, and as Jack took her hand he realized it was beginning to turn an unnatural sort of color, like they'd been submerged in hot water.

Jack could see that Sophie looked much weaker than the last time he'd seen her. For a few days, Sophie had been complaining of terrible stomach aches, but the girl had just chalked it up to hunger pains. Fearing it could be much worse, Bella had sent for Jack – fresh from the alleyway dustup.

Bella now stood near the door, a frightened expression on her face as she watched. Colleen held her hand comfortingly, leaning against her shoulder. She appeared just as anxious.

As Jack smoothed sweat-drenched strands of blonde hair, he found Sophie's forehead very warm to the touch. And when Jack tried to get Sophie to wake up, he had to call her name and shake her a little before her eyes opened. Once Sophie woke up, she grabbed at her side in pain. As Jack helped her get into a sitting position, Sophie's eyes sort of rolled back and her head hung loose like a rag doll.

"Careful," Bella insisted, biting her lip.

"Jack…" Sophie whimpered, falling against the crook of his arm. "Jesus, I've got a deep, burning pain in my stomach."

"You're burning up," Jack said, trying to steady Sophie's shoulders. "Bella told me you weren't feeling good. When was the last time you ate, Soph? You should get a good meal. Just give me an hour or so, and I'll make enough for us to go to Tibby's, hm? Would you like that?"

Sophie shook her head as much as she could. "I ain't hungry. I've been feeling like this for a few days now, but this," she gripped her stomach again, "something's wrong." As she stood, the pain seemed to increase a little bit, and she stared at Bella nervously.

Sophie cringed and doubled over, feeling something tickle at her thighs. She pulled her hand out from her skirts, holding it up to reveal dark, syrupy blood staining her palm and fingers. "Oh," she whispered, with a small wince.

"Oh," Jack breathed.

Bella rushed over, pulling up Sophie's skirt a bit and seeing a rather large stream of blood coating her inner legs, some of it dry. "Sophie…" Bella gasped, lowering her dress.

Jack looked alarmed. "Why didn't you say anything? What happened? You're bleeding!"

Sophie looked down at the blood on her hand as if seeing it for the first time. "I'm bleeding," she repeated.

Jack grabbed the red bandana from his pocket, wiping her hand off as she stood there stiffly.

"Is it your monthly?" Bella whispered.

Sophie shrugged, clutching her sweaty forehead, and then shook her head. "I've never had this much before. Oh God, my back hurts so badly. Like someone stabbing me with knives."

"Hey," Jack snapped, turning Sophie's chin so she would gaze back at her, fearing the worst. "What happened?"

Sophie's eyes shifted in a dizzy haze from Bella to Jack, shrugging her shoulders with some difficulty. "I remember…hearing Medda call for me…and I tried to get up to see what she wanted…somewhere along the way, I guess…" she trailed off, looking like she was about to collapse at any second. "I don't know, I woke up to you shaking me."

Leah burst into the room, out of breath, half-dressed. She was in the process of buttoning up her chemise, having just come from a job. "Sophie, you're out of bed!" She beamed, and then took in the faces of worry around her. "What?"

"I feel faint," Sophie muttered.

Bella's mouth was agape as she listened, wondering how in the hell Sophie was so calm. She must've already passed out from a combination of fever and pain.

Sophie produced a weak smile and cringed as she tried to move, looking up at her brother. "It's good to see you."

Jack returned the smile with a firm look of determination and brushed some more hair out of Sophie's face. "Everything will be okay. But you're coming with me. We need to get you fixed up."

"This mean you ain't a scab anymore?" Sophie managed with a weak smile as Bella placed her hand on Sophie's shoulder, trying to steady her.

Jack shook his head. "Nah, Soph. I'm back with you."

"But Snyder will be looking for you—"

"Never mind that," Jack said. "Come on, we have to get you better."

Sophie grabbed onto Jack's sleeve, looking very anxious and maybe a little scared. "I can't, Jack—I can't afford a doctor. I barely have enough as it is. What would happen if—"

"It's okay," Jack said, holding onto her tighter. "I know someone who can help."

Nodding and stumbling a little as Jack pulled her toward the door, Sophie coughed, causing her friends to exchange worried looks as they watched them descend the stairs.

"I'm scared," Sophie whispered to Bella.

"You'll be fine, you'll be fine," Bella assured her as Jack escorted Sophie down. "She'll be fine, right?" She called after him.

Jack turned back to Bella with an unsure nod.

After helping her through the streets, Jack pulled Sophie down a flight of stone steps to the cellar of a loud dive. Hot steam rose from the grates around them as Jack opened the door, guiding Sophie into the hot, stuffy air. A few ragged looking children were lying around, in various states of sickness or injury, meeting Jack with curious looks.

As soon as she'd reached the bottom of the staircase, Sophie slumped against the wall again, screaming in pain. But the cry itself took a lot out of her, and Jack caught her in time as she collapsed. The two of them sat down for a moment to rest. Sophie's moans of agony made Jack nervous about the severity of whatever it was.

"Jack," Sophie mumbled as Jack pulled the girl close and hugged him. "I don't have one on me, but I need—"

Jack cut her off. "Sophie," she said, leaning the blonde girl against the stairway wall, and standing to head for the back of the cellar. "You wait here. I'll get you—"

"No," she called out after her brother, her voice hoarse. "Jack, I need a cigarette."

"Just wait here."

"No, don't leave me," Sophie whimpered, latching onto him as they walked.

As Jack worked his way through the crowded cellar, he could feel Sophie holding onto one of his hands, like a captain clinging to a sinking ship. One look back at Sophie and Jack saw her bloodshot eyes start to look glazed with tears. And the way Sophie was staring at him haunted the Jack.

"I don't deserve you," Sophie mumbled, causing Jack to pause and wrap his arms around Sophie again, careful not to squeeze too hard.

"You stop talking like that," Jack said, trying to keep himself calm. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was all that had happened in the day, or maybe it was the awful memories from the Refuge of other boys almost losing their lives. The very idea of her death made him sick to his stomach.

"It'll be okay," he repeated, looking down at her and wiping some stray tears away from her cheeks. "You can be a brave girl for me, right? I know you can. And once you feel better," he added with a small smile, "I'll get you a hot meal and you can sleep for the rest of the day."

Sophie laughed and shrugged as best she could. "You'll stay with me, Jack?" She added.

Not thinking, Jack mumbled, "Yeah."

Seeming a little afraid, Sophie whispered, "I didn't mean to get sick. I thought I was taking care of myself all right—"

"I know you didn't, of course you didn't," Jack said. "What worries me is why you're bleeding like that."

"Me too."

"You'll be okay. We need to find—" He trailed off when he eyed a pack of cigarettes on a table and snatched a cigarette out of it. He struck a match on the bottom of his boot and lit it, taking a liberal drag from it himself before putting it to Sophie's lips. She didn't complain at all when a few hot ashes fell onto her hand, reveling in the calming effect it had. But her coughing worsened, and it wasn't easy for her to speak.

Once she blew out a few grey clouds, the nicotine appeared to take hold of her pretty quick, easing her nerves enough so that Jack could pull her and help her along. After a few steps, however, Sophie trembled again and screamed, this one sounding a lot more desperate and gut-wrenching, like a wounded animal caught in a trap. The two of them were a few feet away from an empty mattress on the floor, and Jack decided the best thing would be to get her lie down.

As her head hit the pillow, Jack scanned the room for something to warm her with, landing on a ragged quilt that was folded on a bench. "There," he said, tucking her in as she shivered. "You need to keep breathing, in and out. You're working yourself up. Like this," he said, taking a deep breath in before letting it out.

Sophie nodded, doing the same thing with fearful eyes.

Even with all her shaking, Sophie was able to tug the quilt around her, nuzzling into it. "I miss Ma," she whispered.

Jack knelt and stroked her hair and face, a sad smile playing on his lips. "Me too."

She moaned in pain once more, and Jack took the dying cigarette from her shaking fingers and put it out. "Jesus, Sophie," Jack said, looking ashamed, "I should've let you stay with me more often. I could've kept a closer eye on you."

"I'm not allowed in your lodging house," she reminded him, breaking into another coughing fit. Rolling around with her hand on her stomach, she whimpered and began to bite her lip.

Jack needed to find out what was wrong with her, and so, urging Sophie to fight a little longer, he got up to find the person he'd came there for: Doc Maltese.

Jack hadn't seen Doc since the sentencing, but he knew his old friend was a miracle worker when it came to healing.

He called out for Doc, but the boy didn't seem to be anywhere in sight.

He went back to Sophie, exhaling a shaky breath. He saw that Sophie had stopped her agonizing tremors, for the time being.

Jack crouched beside her, holding her sweaty, blood-stained hand in his.

She rolled over. "You once said Doc was the best at what he does…"

"He is," Jack said.

Sophie's eyes floated around to look at the ceiling. She breathed out a sharp, painful sigh. "I hope I'm not dying…." She teased with a broken laugh. Her grin faded, worrying Jack, until her face scrunched into a look of panic. "I'm not dying, am I Jack—"

"No, Soph."

"Promise?"

Jack sighed. "You're not dying," he said. "That's the best I can do."

She raised her other hand and hit his shoulder. "Your best ain't very reassuring," she said. "Why can't you promise me?"

"It doesn't matter. A promise ain't a cure."

"It's just nice to hear, is all. Why can't you say it?"

Jack looked away and closed his eyes for a moment. He took her hand into both of his, remembering that night at Bellevue when Calico had made him promise the same thing. "Because I made that promise to a friend before."

"Oh," she breathed. "And did he get better?"

Jack winced, not being able to hide it. "No, he didn't."

This time, she brought her gaze to meet his. "I'm sorry," she replied, her lips forming a delicate frown, "I was only teasing you…" She looked back at the ceiling, her eyes reflecting shadows. "I guess I don't know as much as I think I do," she mumbled, "about what happened to you."

The ceiling shook a bit at the sound of drunken patrons in the bar upstairs. Sophie didn't even flinch, however. After she'd said those words, she'd closed her eyes and fallen asleep, exhaustion and immense pain taking hold of her. Jack kissed her hand, keeping it in his, listening to her heartbeat through the wrist every other minute just in case. Resting on the floor next to the narrow mattress, Jack waited for Doc to come back.

He woke up to a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake, half-expecting it to be Sophie. But instead, he found Doc.

Doc had lit a fire in the near-crumpled fireplace that somehow allowed for use. A pot of boiling water, with steam rising from the surface, was next to the mattress. Doc took off his shirt, removed his undershirt, and put his shirt back on again. He placed the undershirt into the boiling water.

"She's all feverish," Jack explained. "And she's bleeding."

"I noticed. Do you know from where?" Doc asked, getting out some supplies.

Jack shrugged. "Sort of…between her legs, I think."

Doc gave him a look and went back to his work. "Are you sure it ain't—"

"No. She said she didn't think so," Jack answered.

At that moment, Sophie woke up with a cry.

Doc added a few tablets of who knows what to the boiling water, looking deep in concentration. Jack scratched his hands and peered as Doc dropped his hands into the water. "Cleaning my hands," Doc explained, feeling Jack's glare on him.

"What's with the bottle?" Jack asked, noticing it in Doc's pocket.

"Mercuric chloride. I don't have much left. Here, wash your hands, Jack."

Jack did so, and then sat near Sophie's head, with Doc by her feet.

Doc lit a kerosine lamp and set it beside him. "You're going to be fine, Sophie," Doc said. He tried to lift the dirty quilt that covered her.

In a panic of modesty, Sophie held the quilt down.

"Come on, Sophie, I've got to look," Doc said.

Still, she clutched the quilt. "No."

Jack leaned over. "It's okay," he whispered.

"I've seen it all, believe me," Doc said as Sophie's frightened eyes swung to Jack, and she let go of her hold on the quilt.

Jack squeezed her hand once more and got up. "I'll be right outside, okay? Doc's got you."

He gave Doc a pleading look, desperation evident in his eyes. Doc reassured him with a quick nod, and Jack walked out the side door and up the steps to wait in the alley.

Doc folded the quilt back over her and unbuttoned her cloth underwear. "You're doing good. I'm just going to clean you up a little, okay? You have quite a bit of blood clots."

Sophie nodded nervously, having no idea what he meant.

Doc fetched a thin, hard piece of soap. He dipped his undershirt and the soap into the steaming water and washed Sophie's blood-stained legs and thighs. He was so gentle, the fear left Sophie's face.

The pain in her abdomen came quicker and quicker.

"Sophie?" Doc began, "do you know when your last menstruation was?"

Sophie's cheeks flushed. "I don't know. It was odd this month, I didn't…I mean I was late, but I just assumed—"

She stopped herself, meeting Doc's knowing gaze.

He wrung out the bloodied undershirt and sat back. "Okay," he replied simply, nodding.

Sophie closed her eyes. "What's the matter with me?" She whispered, her eyes wide and wild.

Doc rinsed his hands again. "You've had a miscarriage."