So... this chapter is long.
It's almost 3k words.
I honestly have no clue what I was thinking when I made the outline.
So many different things happen.

Things are definitely heating up in the plot.

We are reaching the climax!

I hope you enjoy this chapter and be sure to let me know what you thought!

TW: Child Abuse

~TH~

Jack folded the blanket as silently as he could. The microwave read 4:45. It was early. He didn't want to wake up Spot. Jack hadn't slept at all. He couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Snyder towering over him, on top of him.

He took a rushed intake of breath trying to get the image out of his mind.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Jack jumped and spun around at the voice.

"Sorry," Spot apologized, rubbing his eyes. "But seriously, you don't have to leave yet."

Jack didn't answer, smoothing out the blanket, "I didn't mean to wake you." He mumbled.

"You didn't," Spot yawned, "I have work. With football it was easier to work mornings, helping to stock and open. It's a routine. No use in switching now." He disappeared into the kitchen. "You never answered my question, where are you going?"

"School." He answered, not even sounding believable to his own ears.

"At 5 a.m.? The school building doesn't even open for over two hours. Try again."

Jack shrugged as Spot came back around with a mug of coffee.

"I dunno, I just, I need to get some things."

Spot's face immediately hardened. "No. You're not going back."

"Spot, I have to. I can't just run away."

"Yes, you can."

"You know I can't.

"I'm not letting you go back there." Spot was glaring at Jack, he wasn't backing down.

Jack sighed, "Listen, it will be quick. I'll go through the window. Get in, grab my bag and a new shirt, get out, meet you at school."

"What if he's in there?! Or what if he hears you?!"

"He won't! He was drunk last night. He's sleeping and not going to wake up. If I hear anything I'll get out, okay?"

Spot ran a hand over his face. "Fine. But you text me as soon as you get to school. I'm serious Jack. If I think you're in trouble I will call the cops."

"Okay. I'll text you. But I'll be fine." Really he was trying to convince himself of that. He knew that if he didn't go now, when Snyder was asleep, he would never go back. And that was just something he couldn't afford to do. Not if he wanted to keep Crutchie safe.

Jack made his way towards the door. He heard Spot sigh from behind him, "Jack wait."

He turned around, ready to argue with him when a maroon sweatshirt was thrown at him. "It'll do you no good if you freeze between here and your apartment."

Jack offered a small smile, slipping it on, "Thanks Spot." He meant it for more than just the sweatshirt.

~N~

He stopped in front of the apartment building, letting out a shuddering breath. He was going to be okay. His bag had everything in it. His sketchpad, his headphones, everything. He needed them.

Jack forced himself to go up the fire escape. Snyder wouldn't be there anyway. He would be asleep. He would be unconscious from all the alcohol. That was the only reason he had acted like that last night. He was drunk. It wasn't really his fault. Jack should have seen the signs, but he was too busy enjoying the silence to think much of it.

He peeked inside his window. Everything was as he left it. No one was in there. His eyes landed on the mattress shoved up against the wall and he felt his heart start to pound. He shook away the feeling.

Placing his hands on the window he pushed it up. His heart seemed to stop. It was locked.

His window was locked.

In the two years he had lived in the apartment the window had never been locked.

Jack couldn't breathe. He was locked out. If he were to go in, he'd have to use the front door. Snyder had locked him out. He knew he was going to come back.

He turned and ran the entire way back to the school.

~N~

Jack sat along the back wall of the school. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. He texted Spot, letting him know what happened and where he was. He hadn't responded yet.

It was cold. Jack hadn't noticed before now. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. He wasn't going to cry. Not again. His reaction last night was childish. He was lucky Spot didn't throw him out right there. He had been nearly hysterical and it was ridiculous.

Once he'd had time to calm down, he felt embarrassed by how he had reacted. Getting out was one thing, it wasn't the first time he had run out on Snyder, but running to Spot? What had he been thinking?

He pulled the hood of the sweatshirt up. He was going to have to hide his face. At least until he could get in his locker and find the concealer he had there.

Even as he convinced himself that he was overreacting, he couldn't get the feeling to go away. The feeling of being touched. Of being pinned down. He hated being trapped. And being held down like that…

He gasped, covering his head with his arms. He needed to stop. Stop thinking about it. He was fine. He was out. He would be okay if he could just keep it together. He just didn't know if he could anymore.

~N~

There were too many people. Just, too many people. Jack kept walking, hoping no one would stop him. Just let him get to his locker before someone noticed him.

"Jack?"

Just keep walking. He'd be fine if he just kept walking.

"Jack wait!" Race caught up with him, walking by his side. "That's Spot's sweatshirt."

He didn't answer, just kept walking.

"Are you okay? What happened, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine. Jus' leave me alone, okay? I'm fine." Jack tried to push past him but Race grabbed his arm.

Snyder grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards the master bedroom.

"Don't touch me!" He yelled, jerking his arm away, "You don't have any right to touch me!" He panted, trying to regain his composure.

He could see the concern is Race's eyes. The way he looked at him, taking in his exposed face.

"Jack," Race said softly, "what happened?"

"Just leave me alone." His voice was strained, tears starting to prick at his eyes.

He turned and walked away.

~N~

Jack pressed the bottle tightly in the sweatshirt pocket. That's all that mattered. Getting to the bathroom. Putting on the makeup. Go about his day as usual.

He made it to the bathroom. It was empty. Good. He pulled off the hood. This was the worst his face had looked in a while. Especially with the bruises on his neck.

The bottle was mostly full. He typically used the one in his backpack for emergencies, this one was just his back up. He was glad he had it though because his backpack was locked in his house which he couldn't get to because the window was locked and Snyder was just waiting for him to come back so he could-

The bathroom door swung open behind him. Jack jerked his head up. His eyes found the intruder in the mirror.

"Jack?"

He sighed, of course it was. "David. Don't. Just don't."

"What happened?!"

Jack started applying the concealer the faster he could get out the better. "Nothin'. It don't matter. Drop it."

"Jack, you have a handprint on your throat!"

"It's none of your business Davey. I'm serious. I'm fine."

"Well clearly your not!"

Jack felt like banging his head on the wall. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? Why were people so interested in him all of the sudden?

"David, listen, I'm fine. Everything has been taken care of."

The other boy crossed his arms, "Then whoever did this to you is locked up in jail?"

"Everything's been taken care of." He repeated through gritted teeth.

"Come on, talk to me! Who hurt you?"

"It doesn't matter Dave!" He threw his hands in the air. "It don't matter. Okay? You got that? I'm fine. You're fine. We're all fine. So just leave me alone!"

David watched as Jack finished applying the concealer. He didn't say anything else. He didn't even move, making Jack feel extremely uncomfortable. As soon as he finished he stormed out of the bathroom. He didn't wait to see if David followed.

~N~

Jack did not want to talk to Race. He was tempted to just not go to Drama. How much more trouble could he be in? Skipping class seemed pretty minor at the moment. But Medda would worry and Spot would be upset with him.

He didn't make eye contact as he walked through the theatre. Jack felt Race's eyes on him. The kid never approached him, which Jack was thankful for.

His anger was gone now. It seemed to come in spikes. Right now he just felt… empty. He didn't feel anything. It was like all the rage, all the fear, every emotion that he had felt in the last twenty-four hours had disappeared.

Jack's only desire was to sleep. It wasn't even so much that he was tired, though he probably should be, it was just the idea of nothingness. Of not having to think. Not having to function. While he was awake his brain was always moving, never letting him have a moment of peace. Sleep didn't always let him get relief either. He didn't know what he wanted. He just wanted his brain to turn off and for the empty, almost inhuman, feeling to go away.

The backdrop was almost done. He should really work to finish it. He couldn't. He just stared. Stared at the warm sky and the open landscape. It looked so free. Not restricting. There were no places to be trapped.

Jack felt a pang of something in his chest and he wondered if he liked the numbness better. Because it hurt. The longing to be away, to be gone, it was there. To be anywhere but where he currently was.

"Jack?" The voice was cautious.

The older boy didn't turn around. He didn't jump at this voice. He just sighed. "Yes, Race?"

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry 'bout this morning."

Jack finally turned around, wondering if he looked as empty as he felt. "You didn't do anything. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Rough night?" Race tried to smile, but it didn't look very genuine.

"Yeah," he let out a breathy laugh, "Something like that."

"Spot, uh, Spot said that you stayed with him last night."

"Yeah."

"But that's all he said. He said that if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."

Jack allowed himself a small smile. It meant a lot, the idea that Spot didn't tell anyone, even Race. "I-it's not that I don't trust you, I just-"

"You don't have to tell me. Just, I'm here if you need me, okay?"

"Yeah, I know." And he was surprised to realize that he truly did.

~N~

"No."

Jack spun around. "Spot?"

"You're not going home." Apparently Spot had been waiting for him outside of the school building.

Jack sighed, "I told you, I have to go home. You know that."

"You go back to that apartment and we both know that nothing good will happen."

Jack took a step forward, not wanting to risk someone overhearing them. "He wouldn't try something like that again. He'll be more sober. He had work today."

"Jack, stop defending him!"

"I'm not defending him! It's just, it's how it works. He's probably forgotten it even happened! He was drunk and drunk people do stupid things!"

"You're not going back."

Jack honestly didn't know what to say. "I have to go back eventually."

"One more night, okay? That's all I'm asking. One more night for him to cool off."

He let out a sigh, "Fine, one more night."

"Good. I have to stop by the store, I'll meet you at my apartment, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, got it."

Spot eyed him carefully before leaving.

Jack immediately headed towards his own apartment.

~N~

"What are you doing?" Race practically jumped out of an alleyway.

Jack gasped, nearly falling backwards. "What am I doing?! What are you doing?!"

"Spot told me not to let you go home."

Jack looked at him, "You're kidding me."

"Nope. I don't know what happened, but Spot said that it wasn't safe for you to go home."

"How do you even know where I live?"

Race scoffed, "You act like the office files are hard to get into."

Jack crossed his arms, "Listen Race, I'm not going to stay. I just need to get something. I need my bag, okay? Snyder doesn't get off work for another hour. He won't even know I was there."

"But Spot said-"

"Yeah, I know, I get it, but he's not home. Snyder can't hurt me if he's not there, right?" He wasn't even lying. He really just needed his bag. He didn't know what it was about it, but it was like he couldn't function without it. It had the few things he owned in it. He didn't like the idea of leaving it alone with the Spider.

Race looked at him, clearly debating. "Fine. But you text me when you get there and as soon as you leave. You've got fifteen minutes."

"Thanks, Race. I'll be right back." Jack smiled, running towards the apartment complex.

~N~

Jack stood in front of the door to his apartment. He felt frozen. He couldn't remember the last time he had used the door.

But it would be fine. Just grab his bag and get out. He sent a quick text to Race letting him know that he was there. He slipped the phone back into his sweatshirt pocket.

There was a key hidden under the mat, not original, but useful at the moment. Taking a deep breath, Jack pushed the door open. All the lights were off and there was an eery quiet. He ignored the fear that had suddenly appeared and walked in, shutting the door behind him. He locked the door back, knowing that he would be leaving through the window.

"Where did you stay last night?"

Jack froze in the middle of the living room.

"Mr Snyder-!"

"Weren't you expecting me? This is my house." The man said, rising from the kitchen table.

"I just, uh, I just thought that you had work today, that's all."

"I called off for a family emergency." He smiled. "You see my foster son ran out last night and I just needed to wait for him to come home. I was worried about him."

Jack took a step backwards. "I-I'm sorry."

"Answer my question, Kelly, where did you stay last night? It was in the twenties."

Jack couldn't stop the laugh, "That never kept you from kicking me out before!"

"You weren't on the roof. So where were you."

That sent chills down the boy's spine. Snyder had continued looking for him after he ran out.

"I, I just found an alley somewhere."

"Lies. Where did you get that sweatshirt?"

He needed to run. Maybe he could make it to his room? He needed to leave now before Snyder went any further. Spot was going to kill him.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. Snyder's eyes lit up, he grabbed Jack by the arm and reached into his pocket, pulling out the phone before releasing his arm.

"Race? 'Good. Get back here.'" It continued to vibrate in the man's hand as he read the messages aloud. Jack took a few steps back towards his room. This was really, really, bad. "'Jack? Are you okay? Is he there? Answer me.' You have been talking to people! Is this where you were last night? Telling Race everything?!"

Jack turned and full-on ran towards his bedroom. He slammed the door shut and grabbed his bag. He tried to open the window, but it was locked. His hands were shaking. He needed to get it unlocked. The door banged open. He got it. Now push it open.

A hand was in his hair, pulling him back. "You think you can pull something like this and just run?" He screamed.

Jack flinched, his mind going back to the previous night, fear surging through him like never before.

A swift punch to the stomach had Jack gasping. He was thrown to the floor. Jack curled up to protect himself. A foot came down on his chest. He screamed as he felt something break. It didn't stop. He coughed, feeling something drip from his mouth. His hand came away red. He was going to die. This was it. He had been stupid. So incredibly stupid.

Snyder was yelling something, but he couldn't make out a word of it. It was just sound and lights and a foot coming towards his face and-

A final cry and everything went black.

~TH~

Oof.
Yeah...
I said it was going to get rough!

Why Jack didn't just listen to Spot I can't even tell you (other than it makes the plot more interesting ;)

Please let me know what you think of this chapter!

The next one won't be from Jack's POV...
That's one thing I can tell you...
So yeah...

Leave a nice long review of what you thought and think will happen!

Stay safe my friends!

Gosh bless,
Jamie