This was I think the 4th chapter I wrote. So yes, it's been sitting here forever. Some modifications have been made, but overall, this chapter has been just waiting lol.
It's not as short as I thought it was.
Almost 2k.
Most of you have already guessed this chapters POV.
Enjoy!
TW: Aftermath of the last chapter
~TH~
A loud, frantic pounding caused Spot to jump slightly, raising an eyebrow, he placed his soda on the counter and went over to the door. The pounding continued becoming more desperate the longer it went on.
He opened the door a crack, before swinging it completely open. Jack practically fell into him.
"Kelly?" The kid looked awful, pale breathing heavy.
"Spot, hey, I uh-" He didn't finish running his fingers through his hair and rocking back and forth on his feet. "I, I just-"
"You, uh, wanna come in?" Spot had never seen the kid such a mess. He nodded and walked into the main room. His head jerked from side to side as if looking for something. Or someone.
He began to pace in front of the couch, mumbling to himself, his fingers constantly moving through his hair. Spot watched him, concerned. Jack had issues, he knew that, but this was a whole new level. While tired and closed off, Jack always looked put together. Now, any makeup the younger boy might have put on was gone, letting the deep bruises and the dark circles under his eyes be seen in full, especially against his currently pale skin. It looked like there were handprints around his neck. The sleeve of his shirt was torn from the shoulder all the way down and he had shown up without his sweatshirt. In January.
"So, Kelly, you gonna tell me what's going on or am I supposed to guess?"
He stopped pacing for a moment, turning and staring at him, before continuing his path. His voice was scratchy when he answered. "It was Snyder."
No kidding.
"He, uh, he was drunk. But like, real drunk, not normal drunk. Weird drunk."
Okay, at least he was talking.
"And normally when he gets drunk he beats on me and stuff but not-"
He stopped, breathing heavily. Spot was slightly surprised. He knew that Jack's foster dad hit him, but he had never been able to get him to actually admit it.
"He just, he-" Jack stopped walking using both hands to tightly grab at his hair. The boy looked to be on the verge of tears.
Spot wasn't sure exactly what to do. Jack was a mess, that was for sure, and he just kept spiralling. He found himself wishing Race was there. He was much better at dealing with these things. He was pretty sure Jack was or was about to have a panic attack.
"Have you eaten?" Spot blurted out.
Jack's head jerked up, confusion evident in his eyes.
Weekend. Right. No school lunches.
"Sit down." He pointed to the table and waited for Jack to start moving, then went to the kitchen. He honestly didn't have much at the moment, he'd been working most of the day and hadn't had a chance to pick up anything. Keeping his eyes on Jack, whose eyes kept darting around the room, he grabbed the bread and peanut butter. The kid would probably eat whatever he put in front of him at this point.
He made the sandwich, placing it on a paper plate and slid it across the table. Jack put up a hand to stop it from sliding off, but didn't move to eat it. Spot leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, not even hiding the fact that he was watching him.
Finally, Jack picked it up and took a small bite. Spot watched as the boy who had to be starving, just stared at the food, turning it slightly in his hand. Then the sandwich was dropped back onto the plate, his eyes widening. He frantically reached for something, pulling out a vibrating phone.
Spot came closer to see what was going on. From over Jack's shoulder, he could see a picture of a younger, much happier Jack who had a blond boy on his back, leaning over his shoulder and giving one of the brightest smiles Spot had ever seen.
Crutchie, his little brother, right?
"Spot, Spot, I can't." Jack looked up at him, panicked, before shoving the phone at him.
"What?"
"I can't, I can't talk to him. I can't."
"Then don't answer." Spot wasn't sure what he wanted him to do.
"No! If I don't he'll freak out! Jus', jus' tell him I'm fine and will call him back later."
Spot was tempted to say no, but then he looked at Jack's face, just how scared he looked, and with a slight growl of annoyance, grabbed the phone.
"Hello?" He said, watching Jack relax the smallest amount.
"Who is this?" The voice at the other end said, sounding suspicious and slightly frightened.
"Uh, I'm Spot. One of Jack's friends." He answered, unsure of what to say.
"He hasn't mentioned you before."
Spot had a feeling Jack didn't mention a lot of people. "You're his little brother, right? Charlie?"
"Y-yeah."
"But he calls you Crutchie."
"Yeah, yeah, okay." That seemed to have reassured him. "Is Jack there?"
"No," He glanced at Jack who had resumed staring at his sandwich. "He had to go do somein', but he left his phone here to charge. I'm sure he'll call you when he gets back."
"Okay, just, make sure he knows I called."
"You got it kid."
"Well, uh, bye."
"Yeah, bye." He hung up and held out the phone. Jack didn't even seem to notice. Then Spot did something incredibly stupid, he knew it was stupid as soon as he did. He touched Jack's shoulder.
Jack jumped to his feet, flinching so hard that the chair fell to the ground. He pushed Spot away from him before backing up. His back hit the wall and his wide eyes snapped shut. He was breathing so unevenly that he couldn't have actually been getting any air.
"Jack," What had Race said that calmed him down? "Jacky, hey Jacky, you're fine. Jus', jus' try to breathe." Should he call Race? Or Ms Medda? Honestly, he was closer to calling the cops than he'd ever been in his life.
The kid looked up at Spot, his eyes clearing slightly as he sank to the floor. Tears were streaming down his face but he didn't even seem aware of it.
Spot slid down beside him, far enough away so that one of them would have to move for them to touch. Jack was hugging his knees, rocking back and forth. He still wasn't breathing right, even if he did seem a bit more aware. "Jack, I need to know what you want me to do. Do you want me to call someone? Take you to the hospital? What do you need?"
He didn't answer, just increased the speed of which he was moving. "I, I can't go back. I can't. I can't." He was going to hyperventilate if he didn't stop.
"Okay, okay, you can stay here tonight, okay? You don't have to go back. Just, calm down."
"Spot, he was going to- he tried to-"
The older boy still wasn't following. Jack pushed against the wall, rising to his feet and started pacing again. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands, occasionally breaking the habit to run his fingers through his hair. Spot stood up and took a couple steps forward but stopped when Jack began speaking again. "He, he had me, had me pinned against the wall. I-I got away and then he, he had me in the bed. I couldn't get away. And he was, was on top of me and- and I- and he was- and he was going to-"
Jack broke down, collapsing onto the couch, sobbing. Spot stood unmoving, the reality of the words sinking in.
"Did you get away?" Spot kneeled down in front of him, "Jack! Were you able to get away!?" He felt a panic rising. If Jack didn't get away before-
Jack nodded jerkily.
Spot rose to his feet and began pacing. He was going to kill him. He was going to march to Jack's apartment and kill the man.
No wonder Jack had been acting so odd. This was a new territory. This wasn't just abuse anymore.
"I'm calling them." He said anger colouring his tone, pulling out his phone and searching for the local CPS number.
"No!" Jack jerked up from his position on the couch. The kid was shaking, still crying. "Listen you, can't. If you call them it will just make things worse!"
"Jack, I know you don't want to but this isn't just a couple of punches anymore! This is serious! I don't know why you want to protect him!"
"Because he says he'll hurt Crutchie!" He screamed.
Spot stopped, looking at his friend. So that's what this was all about. He wasn't protecting Snyder, he was protecting his brother.
Jack sniffled, looking away. "He knows I got in trouble for defending Charlie. So as soon as I got there he told me, if I didn't behave he wouldn't hesitate to go after him. He's powerful. People trust him for some reason. If I tell anybody or try to run he'll convince the system to let him take him. I can't let him do that Spot!" His voice started to rise again. "I can't let that Spider have him! He, he wouldn't survive it. I can take the punches, he can't." He smiled a little, "And he's, so, so innocent. He only ever sees the good in the world. I don't want him to have to see the bad. I won't let Snyder ruin him."
Spot just stared at him, mouth slightly open. This explained so much. Jack was so much more than just a kid who was afraid or embarrassed to call the authorities, he wasn't just protecting his foster dad in some kind of twisted loyalty, he was doing it because it was the only way to keep his brother safe.
"If they arrest Snyder, he won't be able to hurt you or your brother. He'll be in jail." It was only a halfhearted plea.
Jack shook his head, his left arm was hanging at his side, clutched tightly by his right hand where his nails were digging into his skin. "I can't, can't take that risk." There was a brief pause. "Would you do it if it was Race?" He looked up, earnestly asking even though they both already knew the answer.
Spot sighed, "But you got away? Before, before- you know."
"Yeah," His voice was small, sinking back onto the couch. "I, I got away."
The older boy paced for three steps before turning. "Okay, I won't call no one, but you're staying here tonight. You can have the couch. There's blankets in that closet." He pointed towards a door between the kitchen and his bedroom. "I have an early shift tomorrow, so I should probably get some sleep." Not like either of them would actually be getting any. "If you're hungry, eat whatever." He walked over to the door, making a show of locking it, hoping it would give Jack at least a little comfort. "'Night." He finally said, disappearing into his room.
He probably shouldn't be leaving Jack alone. Spot knew that. But he didn't know what to do. This was out of his league. But he couldn't tell anybody. He couldn't break Jack's trust like that. He was the only real help the kid was getting and if he lost faith in Spot, he would go back to trying to deal with things himself.
Spot sighed as he changed and slipped into bed. It was going to be a long, restless night.
~TH~
The next chapter will probably be a considerable size.
We shall see though.
Any thoughts on... anything?
Spot, Jack, Crutchie?
Be sure to let me know what you think overall!
Next chapter we get back to Jack...
I'll let you decide if that's a good thing or not ;)
Gosh bless and stay safer than Jack,
Jamie
