I am so sorry that this has taken so long...
I mean... if it makes you feel any better I have most of chapter 8 written and all of 21... no? Well... I tried...

Not only that, but I've totally had this written for about five hours but keep getting preoccupied with the world ending. Anyway...

Please enjoy :)

~TH~

Jack pushed through the overcrowded Monday morning hallways. He tried not to hiss every time someone bumped into him. His ribs were killing him. He had his arm protectively wrapped around his middle. He was less hungry than usual, given that he had actually eaten over the weekend, but he was still looking forward to lunch.

His morning classes had passed without incident. He'd fallen asleep in English, but they were just going over some book he had no intent of actually reading. He hadn't been called out and he had woken up before the bell, so he called it a win.

Snyder had left him alone for the most part. He'd found some time to yell at him Sunday afternoon, but it had remained verbal. Not that Snyder was telling him anything he didn't already know. He just liked to remind him how worthless he was. Whatever the reason, it kept him from getting a lot of sleep last night. Not to mention it was hard to find a comfortable position with how sore his ribs were. He knew they weren't broken. Bruised maybe?

Jack grabbed his lunch tray and made his way to the far table. He pulled his hood up and hoped nobody would bother him. He really wasn't in the mood to deal with bullies. Or anyone else for that matter. Race had kept trying to pull him into a conversation at Drama, he just wasn't into it. He was cold and tired and just wanted to be left alone.

Jack felt more than saw someone sit down across from him. He glances up, not turning away from his food. He did a double take. Why was Spot Conlon sitting with him?

His mind shot back to the previous week when he had told him that his bruises were showing through the makeup. He had tried not to think about it too much. It could mean too many things. Still, sitting across from the football captain made him feel very uncomfortable. He fidgeted slightly in his seat.

Spot spoke first, "Kelly right?"

"Uh, yeah," He said, peeking up from his food.

He was watching Jack carefully, his eyes moving across his face and to where he was still holding his ribs."You okay?"

"Yeah," He doesn't know anything. He's just being nice. Why, I don't know. Just don't think about it. Eat your food.

"My boys won't mess with you anymore"

"Okay." Maybe if he kept answering with one word sentences he'd go away. Not that it wasn't a good thing. He was glad that Spot's boys would leave him alone. A single plus in his world of minuses.

Spot sighed and glanced away, possible to ensure no one else was listening, before returning his eyes back to Jack's face. "Listen, I'm not going to pry into your personal life. You don't know me and it's none of my business. I get it. But I know things can get rough sometimes and...Listen, all I'm saying is that if something happens and you need a place to hide out, call me." He slipped a small piece of paper across the table. Jack stared at it for a moment, trying to process what was just said.

He heard Spot sigh again and then felt the table shift back into place. He looked up to see Spot walking away. Jack tentatively grabbed the sheet of paper, looked at the sloppily written numbers, and shoved it in his pocket.

~N~

Jack sat across from David and Katherine as they worked on their English project. His brain was still trying to process everything that had happened at lunch. Why did Spot Conlon care? He probably didn't even know his name before last week, why was he suddenly so invested in his life? Jack doubted he would tell anyone about anything. If he planned on it, why talk to Jack first? That would just insure that he knew who ruined his life. No, this was something else. He actually cared. Now if he could just figure out why.

"What do you think, Jack?"

His head jerked up to meet Katherine's eyes. She had a smug look on her face and he hated playing into her trap. "Huh? What?"

She rolled her eyes, "I asked what you thought about outlining the different types of American freedom."

"Oh, uh, what do you have so far?"

David passed a paper and Jack read it outloud."Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of thought, freedom of action, freedom of choice, freedom of consumption…" he looked up, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know," David shrugged, "You can buy what you want and eat what you want."

He honestly didn't mean to snort.

"You find something funny?" Katherine crossed her arms.

He shook his head, still laughing slightly, "No, no, just, you know, thinking that, y'know not everyone has those rights. Maybe we should talk about that."

"Well, yeah, but this paper is about America."

"Oh, right, sorry. I forgot that those things only happen in other countries." He couldn't wipe the satirical smile off his face. Are these people for real?

"Then," Katherine glared at him, "If we're all in agreement, I think we should move on to people who help keep those freedoms. There's the government, believe it or not, they're supposed to be protecting those freedoms, then we have the voters who vote to make things happen, and of course, we have police officers." She nodded at Davey who smiled a little.

"You sure police officers should be on that list?" As far as Jack was concerned, cops did the opposite of protecting freedom. They were there to listen to whoever had the most money and tear apart families.

"You got something against police officers?" David had an angry fire in his eye that Jack hadn't seen before in the seemingly calm boy.

"I just don't see how they make the cut." He shrugged.

"Listen, I know some cops are dirty, but not all are! Just because you've had bad experiences doesn't mean that they're all bad!" The speech sounded well rehearsed even if it was full of fire.

Jack raised his hands in surrender, "Sorry, sorry, forget I mentioned it."

Katherine patted David on the shoulder, "Davey's dad is a police officer. He's a really good guy. I won't deny police brutality, but Officer Jacobs is one of the good ones."

"Good ta know."

David took a deep breath then seemed to return to his normal calm self. "Anyway, let's start making a more concrete outline."

~N~

Jack looked at the canvas. So far all he had was various light streaks of blue covering the dried white canvas. Based on his conversation today, he assumed that they would want something patriotic. The blue came out lighter than he intended, closer to sky, or baby blue, than the dark, navy blue typically associated with America.

He dipped his brush again, he kind of liked it, maybe when he added red it would be better. Did it matter though? So long as he liked, what did it matter? He didn't know what people found so interesting about his art anyway. He really wasn't that good.

Footsteps echoed down the short hallway. Jack's eyes widened. He shoved the paint pallet into a grocery bag, the paintbrush in a second one. The canvas slid behind his dress and the bagged supplies went into the drawer. He closed it just as the door swung open.

"Kelly," Snyder didn't seem too incredibly angry, which was probably a good thing. "I have some people coming over, I need you out of the house tonight."

He started to panic, "But Mr Snyder, it's thirty degrees outside and-"

A slap across the face cut him off. "I said- !" He stopped, a smile creeping across his face. Jack felt his heart begin to pound. "You know what Kelly, if you really want to stay here tonight, you can join us. I'm sure no one would object assuming you remembered to do as you're told and accept your place for the evening."

Jack felt his hands begin to shake. He wouldn't make it through the night. They might actually kill him. Jack knew the kind of friends the Spider was bringing over. He'd been here for one of their parties before. Snyder had forced him to stay. It was last summer, when he knew he wouldn't have to go out for a while afterwards. It was the highest level of abuse he had ever felt and he honestly didn't know if he would survive it again. He had practically been their slave. Cleaning up after them, getting them drinks. He remembered waking up in his bed the next day, the last thing he remembered was having a chair thrown at him for not being fast enough. He could barely move and he hadn't been allowed (or even able) to leave the house for close to a month.

He shook his head, breathing heavily. "I-I'll leave, sir."

Snyder laughed, finding his fear amusing and almost… refreshing. "Good. You can come back to get your school things in the morning." He waved towards his own face. "And be sure to cover that up."

Jack's hand subconsciously went to where he had been slapped.

"Yes, Mr Snyder."

The man let out another laugh and walked out of the room slamming the door behind him.

Jack grabbed the thin blanket off of the bed. He put on his extra long sleeve shirt, hoping that two sweaters, even if they were both thin, would offer at least some warmth. Next came his sweatshirt, the one thing that might actually help him tonight. He grabbed his backpack and climbed onto the roof.

There was a small hole that was made from the building's heaters. The circulation system caused it to be really cold and then really hot for hours at a time in the small space. It was better than nothing. He climbed over the machine and sat in the square hole it provided. It was currently emitting heat, which was good for the moment. Despite that, he wrapped the blanket around him and waited. The sun wasn't quite down yet, but he knew if he didn't hide out here now, he would be less likely to remain hidden.

As the sun set, he felt in his pocket to find his phone. With his phone, came a small slip of paper.

"Listen, all I'm saying is that if something happens and you need a place to hide out, call me."

He rubbed the paper between his fingers. He could…

His hands were already nearly numb, but he managed to get the numbers into his phone. His thumb hovered over the call button. He closed his eyes, opened them, and sighed. He clicked add to contacts, typing simply 'Spot' as the name, and put his phone away.

The blanket was brought closer around his shoulders as he let out a deep breath and closed his eyes.

~TH~

I do hope you enjoyed this!

Thank you so much for all of the wonderful reviews on the last chapter. They make me so incredibly happy.

It looks like my school will be shutting down starting Monday, so I'll hopefully have more time to write in upcoming days.

Anyone else getting "Black Friday" or more specifically "What if Tomorrow Comes" vibes? Because this entire ordeal has me feeling it.

Anyway... sorry... I think I'm low-key (or maybe high-key) stressed about this whole quarantine/lock-down/everything is cancelled thing. Sorry, I'm rambling and will now leave you in peace.

Leave a comment to make my day!

Gosh bless (and is in control despite everything),

Jamie