Here we are!
Another short chapter.
A lot of the upcoming chapters will probably be shorter as we work towards the end of this story.
TW: Ableist language
Please enjoy!
~TH~
Spot looked at Race. His little brother was curled up in one of the chairs, his head on Medda's lap. Spot couldn't stay still. He was angry. He paced back and forth in the small waiting room.
He had told Jack not to go back. He'd thought that even if Jack didn't listen to him, he'd listen to Race. But he had gone anyway and both of the boys had wound up in a mess.
Race had been panicked, terrified, when he had called. That had made Spot nearly panic. He held it together though. He always did. That's who he was.
The story Spot had gotten from Race was frustrating. How could the police let a known abuser who was in their custody, get away? Especially when Jack was still on the scene? It didn't make any sense.
The last anyone had heard, Jack was in surgery. Poor kid couldn't catch a break. Maybe now things would get better for him. Assuming he survived this. Which he would.
Medda stood up from her seat. Spot and Race both looked at her inquisativly. "I have something I need to do, you boys just wait here." And she headed down the hall.
Spot sighed and sat in Medda's vacated seat. Race leaned into him. "Shouldn't we tell him?"
"Who?"
"Jack's brother. Doesn't he deserve to know? I'd wanna know." He said quietly.
That was actually a fair point. But, "Do you know his number? How could we get a hold of him?"
Race pulled out an old cellphone. "Jack has it in here."
"How," Spot's eyes widened a little bit, "how did you get that?"
"Grabbed it off Snyder."
Spot shook his head, "So you're telling me, that he had you against the wall with a knife, and your first thought was, 'let's pick-pocket him'?"
Race shrugged.
Spot laughed and ruffled his hair. "You're incredible."
"Should we call him?" Spot's smile dropped.
"Yeah, yeah we probably should."
"What do I say? I don't even know him. I've only ever heard Jack talk about him. Even that isn't often."
Spot sighed, "I'll call him. I talked to him once." Race looked at him, "It's a long story. Just give me the phone and I'll take care of it." He was handed the phone and made his way to the entrance. There was an area between the drop-off and the waiting room separated by glass doors on both sides. Private enough.
Jack barely had any contacts, only six. And the names were all fairly ambiguous. Like Kath, Davey, Spot, Race, and Spider. They didn't have photos or information, just a name and number. The bare minimum. Accept for Charlie's contact. It had a photo. A photo where Jack looked happy. Now that he had a closer look, it appeared that it was a picture of a photo. Probably from a while ago based off of how young both kids looked.
Taking a deep breath, he hit the call button and waited. It rang several times and Spot was beginning to wonder if anyone was actually going to answer.
"Hello?" A voice at the other end said. It wasn't Crutchie, that was for sure.
"I need to speak to Charlie."
"Why? You ain't Jack." The words were said with malice. Spot did not like this kid.
"No, but I need to speak with him."
There was a cocky laugh, "What, did Jack get himself arrested again? You callin' to tell the Crip the bad news?"
Spot was seething, "First of all, I don't think that's any of your business, second, watch what you call people."
"Yeah, whatever." The sound on the other end was muffled for a second, "You got a phone call ya lousy Crip." came a shout. Spot had to grit his teeth to keep from responding. It would do no good. No wonder Jack got kicked out. If Spot was there he would have pounded the kid by now. "He's comin'. Might take a while though."
The phone must have been set down because there was silence for several moments.
"Jack?" Spot's heart nearly broke at the question.
"Uh, no kid."
"Wait, are you that Spot from earlier?" He was worried. Probably wondering why he still had Jack's phone.
"Yeah."
"Why are you calling me? Where's Jack?" Spot could practically hear the panic rising. Best just to get this over with.
"Are you sitting down?"
'What, why?" Oh great. The kid sounded like he was going to cry.
"Are you sitting down."
"Tell me what's going on!" The poor kid was going to have a meltdown.
"Sit down and I will!" He took another breath, trying to calm himself.
"Fine, I'm sitting. Now what's going on"
"Jack got hurt." That was probably an understatement.
"Where is he? Can I talk to him?" Spot would have loved to talk to him too.
"He's uh, he's in surgery right now."
"What!? What happened?! Is he going to be ok?!"
"Snyder-"
"His foster dad?"
"Yeah, yeah, he, he hurt Jack really bad. But the police got him. He can't hurt Jack anymore."
"Will he be ok?"
Spot hated this. "Listen, kid-"
"No! Tell me if he's going to be ok!"
"I don't know! Okay, I don't know!" Spot exploded. His nerves were on edge. He was stressed out and he honestly had no clue if his friend was going to be alright.
"No!" Crutchie called out. "No! He's going to be okay, he's got to be okay!"
Spot tries to calm him down. "Kid, kid, calm down."
"No! Tell me he's going to be okay!"
"I can't." And he hated that he couldn't.
"What's going on here?" There was a new voice. It sounded like an older man. "Who is this?"
"Listen, I just thought he had the right to know!" Spot answered before he could even process what was going on.
"Know what?"
"His brother is in the hospital, okay? I thought he needed to know!"
"Jack? What happened?" Spot thought he detected a note of concern. Not sure why based off of what Jack had told him.
"I'll tell you what happened! After you decided he was too much of a hassle to deal with, he was sent to live with a man who made his life a living Heck. Today, that man finally snapped and stabbed him! Now Jack is in surgery and we're waiting to see if he pulls through! I sure hope you enjoyed your two years of peace without him!" He spat. He was sure that his face was red. He was boiling with rage. At this man, at Snyder, at the police, at all the adults who never cared or noticed, at himself for not getting Jack out sooner and honestly at Jack for going back and not letting people help him!
The person on the phone was silent for a moment. "I'll drop Crutchie off in the next fifteen minutes." Then the line went dead.
Spot leaned his head against the wall. It was going to be a long night.
~TH~
There you go!
What did you think of Spot and Charlie? I for one, love them.
I know he wasn't in it a lot, but poor Race is emotionally struggling.
And is Jack going to be okay?
Hopefully?
But how okay?
What do you guys think?
Anyway, please leave lots of comments!
Gosh bless (and please please stay safe),
Jamie
