Dude. I'm actually very proud of how this chapter turned out.
Fanz4life: Thank you so much for the suggestion! I don't think you realize how much that actually helps my stories! I have so many thoughts about the scene you requested and it will definitely be included in one of the next three chapters I think!
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I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Jack opened his eyes slowly and looked around. He groaned quietly when he saw the mess that was around him. A mess that couldn't be seen by the man that had caused them so much pain. There were mugs on the coffee table that had previously been filled with hot chocolate. There were blankets all over from where he'd slept, where Davey was sleeping on the chair and where they were spread over his two brothers. His sketch book lay on the floor, open to the same page from the previous night and Crutchie's book still lay on the table.
Jack sighed and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the soreness of his body as he started to clean up what he could without waking anyone up. He washed the cups, hid away his sketches and did everything he could do before he looked up at the old, run down microwave clock. His heart stopped for a moment as he stared at the time and then back at his family. 7:53.
Jack ran back out into the living room, sitting gently on the edge of the couch, careful not to startle anyone, before he started to slowly shake Racetrack out of his dreams and into reality. The poor kid's skin was still cold to the touch and the temperature of the apartment wasn't doing them any favors. "Race..." Jack whispered, harshly, trying to get the kid to wake up. "Race!" He tried again and was immediately filled with guilt when the boy's icy blue eyes slowly slid opened and met his.
The kid's eyes were tired and confused. When they opened all the way and took a look around, Race shivered and pulled the blanket closer around his body. "It's cold..." He mumbled, closing his eyes again.
Jack shook his head as he watched his brother's eyes slip closed again. "Race, it's almost eight!" The older boy whispered, urgently. That seemed to get a response out of the younger boy. Maybe not a good one, but a response none the less.
Race's eyes shot back open. He sat up in a hurry but the pain from the previous night shot through his body. He felt Jack's arms around him as an ice cold chill was sent through his body. The older boy held his arms around Race's shoulders. The boy shivered and leaned into his big brother's touch. "It's so cold, Jack." He whispered into his brother's ear. He rested his head in the crook of Jack's neck as he held him.
"I know, kid." Jack sighed, sadly as he rubbed his hands up and down the kid's back, trying to warm him up a bit. "I know." He repeated, the memories of the previous night filling up in his mind, the guilt of what happened filling up in him right along with it. "But we're gonna get you somewhere warm." He promised.
Crutchie gasped as the weight lifted from his lap. His green eyes opened in a rush as he frantically looked around for his family. When he saw them, his panic lessened and he sat up and scooted closer to his brothers, trying to reassure himself that they were all still there. Together.
Jack looked up at his youngest brother. The boy looked a little but frazzled. His hair was a mess and his eyes were a bit wider than they should be. The young blond boy appeared to be scared to say anything, so Jack loosened his grip on his shivering brother and, gently, scooted both of them closer to Crutchie. Immediately, the boy's worry seemed to melt away as Race grabbed his hands and guided them around his torso so that the gimp could rest comfortably against his back.
Jack wished he could stay like that for a while longer. Just holding his poor brothers and making sure their fears were chased away by the trust they had in him, but, sadly, Jack had to let go and stand up. "Fellas, we gotta go." He said in a rush as he moved over to the chair that Davey had been sleeping in. Carefully, he kneeled down next to him, placing a gentle hand on the taller teen's shoulder. "Davey." He whispered, shaking the sleeping kid with as little force necessary. The boy stirred but Jack looked back at the clock. 7:58. "Davey!" Jack finally yelled, successfully getting his friend's eyes to shoot open as he sat up.
"What the hell, Jack?" Davey whispered as he frantically stood to his feet. He looked around at the room and immediately regretted his decision to move so quickly and harshly around the young boys. Race looked really tense as he wrapped his arms around Crutchie and the younger boy's eyes were opened wide, but after a moment, it looked like nothing had ever happened.
Crutchie watched as Race stood to his feet. He hastily made it to their empty bedroom and then was back before he could even say he'd been gone. He gave the boy a curious look and his heart hurt as he sat and watched his brother shiver when he made his way over to the window. Crutchie grabbed his crutch, that had somehow made it over to the side of the couch the night before and, slowly and painfully, limped his way over to his older brother as he slipped through the window and offered him his hand.
"Jack what's going on?" Davey asked, curiously, as he watched the two little boys he'd help rescue the night before slip out into the cold morning of Manhattan. The other boy shook his head as his eyes made it back to the clock.
"I'll explain later." He promised. "Just go! We can't be here right now." He prompted. He all but pushed his new friend over to the window. Talk about making it at the last second. Jack forced Davey through the open window and then stepped out just in time to duck the four of them down as the door inside was heard, opening and then slamming shut. He heard an annoyed grumbling through the window and rolled his eyes. He then looked over his shoulder to his fifteen year old brother. He nodded to him and the younger boy repeated the movement before slipping back onto the latter of the fire escape.
Race grabbed his baby brother's hand and helped him onto his back as he began to make his way down to the ground. He let the younger boy's knees rest just above his hips and he let his arms clutch around his neck, the crutch dangling from his right hand. The fifteen year old ignored his shaking body as he made his way down the latter. His hands were going numb from the freezing touch of the metal and he could see his breath coming out cold. But his hurting brother was on his back. So he didn't stumble until Crutchie was on the ground, leaning up against the wall of the ally they'd landed in.
Jack had let his new friend start climbing down the latter before him. He knew that if the man caught him in there, things would go downhill, fast. But when he saw Crutchie being lowered to the ground, wincing as he finally made it, and Race trying to walk and stumbling over nothing, all he wanted was to be down with them.
Finally, they made it to the ground. Jack was at Race's side in a second. He put his arm around the younger boy's back and guided him, carefully, back over to Crutchie. The oldest of them pressed the back of his hand to his littlest brother's forehead, groaning as the boy's temperature must've gone up since the last time he'd checked.
"What's wrong?" Davey asked from behind them, leaning up against the latter, watching the scene in front of him. His heart clenched as Crutchie started coughing uncontrollably and the boy cried out in pain as his bruised bones screamed for him to
stop.
Race dropped to his knees beside their brother and ran a hand through his messy hair. "Crutchie breathe." He muttered as Jack grabbed the boy's shoulders to hold him still. "Please just breathe." He begged.
"He's been sick for a week now." Jack explained as the coughs started to die down a bit. Still, he scooped the fourteen year old up into his arms and rocked him back and forth a bit as he sniffled, the pain from the previous night ever so present in that moment. "Last night he was getting better. Then the Spider decided ta ruin that too." Jack explained, slowly trying to comfort his baby brother.
Davey carefully pushed himself off of the latter and walked over to the boys. He kneeled down next to Race, who was still playing with the younger boy's hair and placed a hand on the blue eyed kid's shoulder. He tried to ignore the fact that the boy jumped under his touch. "Where do you think you're gonna go?" The tall boy asked, gently.
"A friend of our mother's place." Jack answered, plainly as he stood, lifting up his baby brother in his arms and walking away, followed by a stumbling Racetrack.
Davey stood for a moment, dumbfounded. After a moment he just gave a sort of shrug and followed after them.
It took about a half an hour to walk all the way out there. Jack still held Crutchie up in his arms, despite the boy's protests to being carried the entire way there. Race's hand was on his big brother's arm, some might think it was for comfort, but it was clear in the way the boy swayed on his feet that he needed it for stability. He also carried the boy's crutch in his hand. And Davey's heart hurt for the little boys that no one even noticed as they walked down the street.
They made it all the way to the other side of Manhattan, to a large building. It looked to Davey to be a theatre. They walked in through the front door. So far, the place was basically empty. The foyer was open, and Davey gave Race, who was now walking beside him, a curious look as they just waltzed into the beautiful theatre without a second thought. The young gambler just nodded as he understood why Davey was so confused.
"Medda leaves the theatre open for us..." Race started, trying to figure out the right way to put it. "For all of us. She takes a lot of foster kids under her wing. We're all welcome here." He explained.
Davey nodded, but then a woman seemed to appear out of no where. She had a brilliant smile up on her face as her eyes fell on the boys that had wondered into the place. She wore very nice clothes and expensive looking jewelry that showed off her chocolate skin quite nicely. "Jack Kelly, where have you been?" She asked, strolling right up to the three boys. Her beautiful smile fell, however, when she saw Crutchie, falling asleep in his big brother's arms. "It's been a week, honey." She stated, lightly running a hand through the gimps hair.
Jack nodded, grimly. "Yeah..." He sighed, looking back at Race, making sure he was okay. The younger boy nodded and walked up next to his brother's, on Jack's left, right next to Crutchie's head. The youngest of them lay in his oldest brother's arms, trying to keep himself awake. His eyes would flutter open every few seconds, but the movement was getting fewer and farther between. Then Jack looked back up at the African American woman. "Crutchie's been sick for a week." He said, clutching the kid tighter, and allowing Race to run a hand through the fourteen year olds hair. "He's been too weak ta get over here. But I couldn't let 'em stay in that apartment any longer."
Davey shoved his hands in his pockets, awkwardly. He paced a little behind the three boys as they had their talk with this woman that he assumed was Medda.
"Well some of the other boys are in the house." Medda pointed to door that lead to the center of the building, skeptically looking over the three boys in the foyer. "Racetrack, its much warmer in there." She added, as she noticed the boy's shivering form. The small teen nodded and made his way over to the door, crossing his arms over his chest, the crutch he still held dangling from his hand. But when he got there, he turned, and waited for his brothers to join him.
Medda looked past Jack and Crutchie to the young man that was in her theater. The one she'd never seen before. "Who's your friend?" Medda asked in a hushed tone, wanting to let Crutchie get as much of a rest as he could in his condition.
Jack looked back, confused for a moment, before remembering that the boy had tagged along with them this morning. "Oh, that's Davey." Jack introduced, getting the taller boy's attention. The brunette then walked over to them, extending his hand. "Davey, this is Miss Medda Larkin, the finest actress and director you'll ever meet. She owns this place." Jack explained as the two shook hands.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Larkin." Davey spoke, politely.
"Welcome to my theatre." The kind woman smiled and gestured to the door where Racetrack stood, waiting. "Just be careful." She added with a wink in Jack's direction. "Some of Jack's boys can get a little riled up."
Jack groaned. "How many of 'em are here?" He asked, looking down at his youngest brother and then over at his other one. Both of them were cold and miserable, and Jack wasn't sure if they could handle what was waiting on the other side of the door.
"Most of 'em. Maybe all of 'em." Medda replied, patting Jack's shoulder. "They've been worried about ya, baby." She clipped the boy's chin and then walked over to Race, wrapping an arm around him as she opened up the door that lead into the theatre. "Go let them know you're alright."
Jack nodded and looked at Davey before gently jerking his head in the direction of Medda and Race, following them inside. But Jack wasn't prepared for the loud voices that met his ears.
"Jack!"
"Race!"
"Is Crutchie okay?"
"Who's that guy?"
"Where have you guys been?"
Race was only overwhelmed for a second with the questions before another boy, only slightly taller than him, with bright red hair ran up to him and threw his arms around his waist, jokingly picking him up off the ground running him back to the doors that lead into the room. Race grunted at the impact, but then he looked up and saw two other boys behind him. There was another, same age as him, while the red head was at least a year older, with light brown hair and a giant smile on his face. He wore a baseball cap backwards on his head. And then the boy beside him was only about thirteen. He had dark hair and a small smile on his face and his dark eyes sparkled when they met Race's.
The red head set Race back on the ground, or dropped him back on the ground. But none the less, the boy was still smiling. "Where ya been Race?"
"Avoidin' you Albert." Race laughed, his sarcasm rolling off his tongue with such pleasure, most likely because he hadn't been able to joke around like that in a while.
The older boy chuckled and brought Racetrack back to him, ruffling his hair, laughing harder when the fifteen year old tried to struggle out of it and then he shoved him towards the two other boys.
"Hey Race!" The one with the light brown hair greeted, bringing his friend into his arms. "You alright? Ya look a little cold." He asked, concerned, but Race shook it off.
"I'm fine JoJo." He assured, quickly before kneeling down in front of the thirteen year old who was looking so happy to see him. "And how're you doin' Romeo? Still pickin' on all the girls?" He teased, ruffling the small boy's hair.
The boy, Romeo, swatted away the older boy's hand. "All the ladies love me. They just don't always know it." He said, confidently. And Race laughed.
"Sure kid."
Jack walked up to the stage, ignoring the twenty boys in the room that followed him and asked where the hell he'd been, why Crutchie looked so sick and why Race was shivering. He helped Crutchie sit on the edge of the stage. The boy looked a bit dazed, but when he fully opened his eyes, he saw all the boys looking at him, concerned and he smiled.
"Hey fellas." He greeted in a tired voice. A whole bunch of boys swarmed around the kid and some of them put hands on Jack's shoulders.
"Hey boys." Jack finally acknowledged them, bringing some of them into his embrace, spitting in his hand and then shaking some of the boys' hands. "Sorry for scaring you guys." He apologized as he leaned up against the stage where Crutchie sat. "It's just... been a rough week." He sighed, finally, crossing his arms over his chest as the room became quiet. "But we brought a new friend with us." Jack smiled and nodded to the boy who still stood in the back of the room, looking around, amazed at all these little boys.
Foster kids, Race had said. All of them. All of them needing a safe place to go. It was truly heartbreaking.
"Boys, meet Davey. He saved our butts last night." Jack smiled and suddenly Davey had a bunch of boys looking at him.
"Hi fellas." He waved, awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. "Nice to meet ya."
Race and three of the other boys joined back into the group and many of them turned to hug the blond gambler. They asked him if he was ok and if he had been hurt in anyway and he dodged every question with a witty response. That's when Davey saw the real Racetrack shining through. He would laugh things off, joke about them like they were nothing. And Davey could see that it was both his personality and his way of coping with the awful things that had hit him in the past.
Crutchie was up on stage, telling everyone that he was fine and that he would get better as he coughed and sneezed and hugged his thin sweater closer around his shoulders. And Davey saw how Jack looked up at him with scared eyes. The kid's must've never been real good with getting sick. But the poor gimp seemed to be looking ahead to the future, knowing that he'd pull through.
"Hey, Higgins!" Albert called to his friend, as they had gotten separated in the crowd. "You owe me a rematch of poker!" He laughed, slinging an arm around the smaller boy.
"Why?" The gambler scoffed, shrugging his shoulders. "It's not like you'll win anyhow."
"Jack, what are you gonna do about your foster father?" Davey asked his friend, as now all the boys had gone to the back of the room, where they'd come in from, to see Race teasing Albert about how he would never win a poker game against him.
"Nothin', Dave." Jack replied, simply, carefully watching as two boys, one with some glasses, and one with a slingshot in his hand, helped Crutchie off the stage and over to the laughing crowd of boys. And Jack let himself smile for the first time that day.
"What do ya mean nothin', Jack?" Davey asked, angrily. "How could you just sit back and let this happen again?"
"Hey! It ain't like that, alright?!" Jack's tone was hushed, as he didn't want to alarm the other boys in the room to what their conversation was about. "You think I don't want to get my brother's outta that damn apartment?!" He asked, actually hurt that Davey thinks he hadn't done everything he possibly could to protect his family. "Cops will only make it worse! Trust me! If we just stay outta his way it'll be fine! We've been doin' this for years."
Davey was about to argue once more when the commotion in the back of the room suddenly turned from playful, to shocked, hurt and angry. Jack didn't waist a second before stomping up to the crowd. But as he was only half way away he heard his kid brother begging. Something not often heard outside of their abusive home.
It began with a simple, playful argument. Albert shoved Race and Race shoved back. Then their fists were flying at each other, intentionally missing each other, but then Albert pushed him. It wasn't hard, but Race was pushed to the ground, on his back, and something that no one was meant to see slipped out of his pocket.
JoJo leaned down to help Race up, but the poor kid was too busy trying to reach whatever Albert picked up in his hand to actually get off the ground. When the older, red headed boy saw what he was holding, Race couldn't stop himself.
"Don't tell Jack!" Then Race caught sight of his little brother, who limped over to Albert to see what he was holding. "Crutchie no!" He tried to get up and stop the younger boy from seeing the thing that Albert was looking over, a hurt and somewhat angry look on his face. But now, instead of JoJo helping him up, the boy was now keeping Race from hiding the small box from his brother. And Race's heart shattered when Crutchie saw what it was he was so desperately trying to keep under wraps. "Crutchie... I didn't-"
"How could you, Race?" Crutchie didn't get mad very often. But when he did, man, it wasn't good. His voice was low and dangerous. And it scared his older brother.
"Please don't tell, Jack!" Race begged, trying to struggle out of his friend's grip, but in his panicked state, he was no match for the other boy. "Please! I ain't even touched one of 'em! I swear!"
"You were going to, Race!" Crutchie screamed, making his brother wince at the volume of his voice. "How could you?"
"Please don't tell Jack." Race pleaded again, getting desperate and beginning to actually sound scared.
"Don't tell me what?" Jack honestly never thought he'd see the day when his baby brother advanced on Race. The boy glared daggers at their brother before he forcefully pushed himself towards the boy on the ground with his crutch, ready to take a swing at the older kid. But another boy stood in his way.
"Back off, Finch!" Crutchie screamed. Then someone grabbed him from behind and he tried to jerk himself out of the grip as he watched his older brother, silent tears making their way down his face as he sat on the ground, stuck in the hold of one of their friends. "Let go, Elmer!" But he was stuck and he watched Jack walk over, confused as to what was happening.
"What ain't we tellin' me, Race?" Jack asked, nervously, trying to remind himself that no matter what it was, anger wasn't the answer but then Albert tossed a small box his direction. The oldest of all of them caught it easily and looked it over.
"Said he ain't touched it." Albert explained, still angry, but trying to keep the anger at bay.
"Yet." Crutchie mumbled out, still glaring at the frantic boy on the ground.
Jack looked over at his brother on the ground. His lips were pressed together in a firm line as he did and none of the boys thought they'd ever seen Racetrack Higgins so helpless in his life. "Where did you get these?" Jack asked, dangerously. Race didn't respond, but he also didn't make any move to get out of JoJo's hold. And Jack had his answer. "Damn it, Race!"
Race jumped at his big brother's outburst. He saw Davey trying to get Jack to calm down, but the seventeen year old wasn't having it. Race looked down at the ground, the shame of what he'd done catching up with him in that moment. Then he heard Jack bark out orders. And he knew he'd be an idiot if he didn't follow them. "You. Outside. Now." Jack demanded pointing to his brother and Race was up in a second, walking to the door right next to the stairs to the stage. He shoved the door opened and stormed outside.
Davey noticed that Jack was breathing harder than normal. He watched as him and his youngest brother made eye contact. Crutchie's glare briefly turned from furious to absolutely broken, then back again. Then Davey caught sight of what was in Jack's hand.
A pack of cigarettes.
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