DAY 5!
I don't know if I've ever posted this consistent.

Please enjoy this chapter! It's not even 2k words but it took me 6hrs to write.

Enjoy!

~TH~

"This is his building." Race said, pulling out a key and practically running up a flight of steps.

Jack looked at the building. It was a large apartment building, a lot like his own, this one was nicer though. He followed race up to the third story

"Spot!" Race called, opening the door.

"Wait, Spot?!" Jack followed him inside. It was a small, one-bedroom apartment. The living room was separated from the kitchen with a counter. A small table sat to the side of the room. An old couch sat on a rug further back in the room, a small TV across from it. There was a door beside the kitchen and two against the far wall. Other than that it was pretty empty.

Spot appeared from the back room. "Oh, hey. Come on in. Medda's not here yet, but just make yourself comfortable."

Jack hung out behind Race, walking slowly while Race practically threw himself on the couch.

"Wait," Jack finally said, "You're Race's brother?"

Spot smirked, "Yeah, he's my brother."

"And you love me!" Race called from the couch.

"That's uh, cool." He said, still standing in the middle of the room.

"You can sit down y'know." Spot laughed going into the kitchen.

Jack tentatively sat on the other end of the couch. Race seemed to be looking at something on his phone. Jack stared silently at the wall, wondering if this had really been a good idea.

"He's not my biological brother."

Jack looked over caught off guard by the sudden comment.

"We were in the same foster home for almost four years. It was the not good kind." Race had peaked up at him, but then returned to his phone. "Had to put up with a lot. Spot got the worst of it 'cause he's older. Always took it like a champ though."

"Hey, are you talking about me in there?"

"Why ever would you think that." Race shouted. He had this sarcastic smile on his face. "Anyway, Spot aged out about a month before Medda took me in. Apparently our foster mom was on heroin. The story I got was the dad sold it, but I don't know how much of it is true. Momma didn't like to talk about them. That was almost a year ago."

This was a lot of information. It seemed to be coming out of nowhere. Jack hoped that Race didn't expect him to return the favour.

"Momma would have taken Spot too, but somebody," he raised his voice, clearly pointing the comment at the older boy in the connecting kitchen, "is too stubborn to accept help!"

"Hey, I accept help," He said, entering the living room and sitting on the couch arm near Race. "But I can take care of myself too. Got this place for myself, huh? And Medda cosigned, so I'd say I did accept some help."

Is this what Medda had been talking about when she said that they had a lot in common? They both came from foster homes? Was there more? It wasn't like he could just ask!

Just then the door swung open and Medda appeared holding five boxes. "I've got pizza!"

Race jumped up to grab them from her and Spot went over too. Jack awkwardly got to his feet, following a safe distance behind.

After he had set the pizza down, Race went to grab a slice. Medda shut the box, "Wash your hands, young man." She turned to Spot, "You too."

Medda then smiled at Jack. "Good to see you here, hunny. The bathroom is through that door if you would rather not try to fight past those to hoodlums." She motioned towards where Spot and Race were fighting over the soap in the kitchen.

"Yeah, uh, thanks." He smiled, following her instructions towards the second door on the far wall.

~N~

The pizza was amazing. Jack ate four slices. He didn't feel bad because Spot ate almost an entire box by himself and Race nearly matched him.

Jack spent most of the time watching them. They seemed so happy. They made jokes and playfully threw things and hit each other. It was refreshing. Back at the group home, Jack had never shied away from physical touch. When he was younger his mother had once told him that his love language was touch. He didn't know what that meant, but he seemed to always have one of the younger boys hanging off of him. Especially Crutchie. It hadn't been unusual for the younger boy to crawl into his bed. He had loved it. Loved it all. But not anymore. Now, every time someone touched him it only brought back bad memories. He didn't like to be touched because it meant pain.

"Hey Jack, catch." Race through a ball at him and he caught it. It was a squishy ball, stress ball maybe? Spot had been trying to get it away from his brother for the last fifteen minutes.

"Nice." Spot commented, "Do you play?"

Jack rolled the ball in his hands. "Used to play baseball. Haven't played in a while. But the group home I was in had a big fenced-in yard so we'd go out and play sometimes."

He threw the ball back, Spot intercepted it. "Ha!"

"Jack!" Race wined, "Now you've got to help me get it back!"

"What?" He couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up.

"Come on, I trusted you and you let him get it!"

Jack glanced at Medda, "Go ahead, it's okay, really."

He stood up and playfully lunged at the ball in Spot's hand.

~N~

They had won. Of course, they had. Two against one and they were both taller than Spot.

It had been fun.

Actually fun.

And Jack couldn't remember the last time he had truly had fun.

They ended up collapsed on the couch, some Netflix movie playing in the background. "Jack, smile,"

He turned to see Race holding up his phone, the front camera on.

Jack tended to shy away from pictures. They could be revealing and cause problems. But, it couldn't really hurt, right? He smiled and Race took the picture. Spot suddenly appeared in the background right as the picture was being taken.

"Hey, give me your number and I'll send it to you."

Jack didn't even hesitate. He was looking at the picture over Race's shoulder. He was smiling and happy. It didn't even look like him.

The message came through in a group chat. Spot's number popping up. He saved Race's number along with the picture then deleted the message, slipping the phone back in his pocket.

They went back to watching the movie.

~N~

"Race, baby, it's almost eleven, I think it's about time we get home." Medda said rising from the table where she had spent most of the night, "Jack, do you need a ride? I can drop you off."

He shook his head, "No ma'am, I can walk. It's not too far from here."

"Okay, well, I'll see you Monday. Spot, if you need anything you know where to find me."

He nodded, then Race whispered something in his ear and he playfully whacked him on the back of the head. "Get outta here," Spot lightly shoved him.

"Night Spot, love ya," he waved, going out the door."

Spot waved using only two fingers and his thumb.

Jack stood there, unsure of what he should do. "I, uh, I guess I should be goin'."

"Take the leftover pizza." Spot said, pointing to the mostly full box on the counter. Medda had gotten more than even the four of them could have ever eaten. "Here," He reached down and grabbed a grocery bag, handing it to Jack. "You can put it in this if you don't want to carry the box."

"You sure, I mean, I-" He looked at the bag and froze. "This is the same bag that the bars came in."

"It's where I work, so?"

"It was you. You left them in my locker."

Spot shrugged, "I don't like that kind. You looked like you could use them."

Just ask him. Ask.

"Hey, Spot, I was wondering, I mean, you don't have to answer or anything, but I was just wondering, Race, uh, Race said that you two were in a, in a bad home for a while and I was just-" He stopped. He had Spot's full attention. "You know what, never mind, forget I said anything." He walked towards the door but was stopped by Spot's voice.

"Kelly, just sit down will ya?"

Jack contemplated his options, before turning around. Spot had moved over to the kitchen table and was motioning towards one of the chairs. Jack sat in it and Spot sat across from him.

"So you're asking about the home, yeah?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess." He fidgeted with his hands, wringing the top of the plastic bag.

Spot nodded, crossing his arms, "It was bad. There was some physical abuse, but I guess it would really be filed more under neglect. Not a lot of food, bad living place. The first two years were the worst. I was there a year before Tyler came, so five years altogether. When I turned sixteen I got a job. They didn't care. I was already playing football so I took morning shifts. Started saving up. That's how I got this place. Helped feed us both."

"Would he ever hit you?"

What! Don't ask that! Why would you ask something like that! Idiot!

"Yeah. Sometimes. Especially if business had gone bad. Just the basic stuff, mostly hit me. The woman liked the belt, she went after Race a couple of times. Not all the time, but often enough. Most of the time she was too high to realize what was going on."

"How, uh, how'd you get out?"

"Turned eighteen. I didn't even say goodbye to them. Just got my stuff and left. Still checked on Race when I could. I planned to drop out of school. I was a year behind and wanted to just work full time. Would have if my boss wasn't my football coach. He found out about it. Wouldn't let me drop out. Helped me get this place, upped my hours, gave me a raise. Hardly a month later the cops got Race out. Apparently Medda called CPS. Worked out for them because it doubled as a drug bust."

Jack just stared at him. That's why he had noticed things. He knew. He knew because he had been there.

"The police don't always help though. Race got lucky." He didn't know why he said it. It was almost like he needed to defend his position on the topic. Sure, one kid had lucked out, but things would just get worse for him.

Spot shrugged, "I don't know. I do wonder what would have happened if I had gone to someone. Maybe we both could have gotten out of there a lot quicker."

Jack glanced up at the clock on the microwave. It was nearly midnight. "I, uh, I should probably get going. It's late."

"Yeah, you need a ride?"

"No, no, I'm fine. Uh, thanks for the pizza," he held up the bag. "See ya Monday."

"Yeah, and Jack." He turned around to look at Spot, "I'm serious. Text me if you need me."

"I will." And he actually meant it.

~TH~

HAPPY JACK!

Now you know why this was so hard to write.
I don't usually write happy.
Enjoy happy Jacky while it lasts...
yeah...
While it lasts...

So you finally know the full story of Spot and Race!
I've been working up to it for a while and I'm glad to finally have it all out there.

Let me know if you have any thoughts!

Stay safe and Gosh bless,
Jamie