Disclaimer: The character Rafe Edwards is the creative property of me, as is Stress, Dice, Switch and various other characters. The character Jack Kelly (among others) is the property of Disney. The words following each chapter heading are from the Bryan McFadden song, "Demons in my Dreams" and are used in order to help create the context in which the plot was conceived.
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DEMONS IN MY DREAMS
Have you ever been lost in a different world?
Rafe Edwards is a leader eager to try his luck out at going straight.
What happens when his gang wasn't what he thought it was?
Or his newfound loyalties are questionable?
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V. EXIT HOPE
Try to talk but the words are just not there
Jack ran past the empty sign-in desk and knew that Mrs. Cook, Rae and the others must be up at the steps in the bunkroom. He himself raced up the flight of stairs and entered the room just as Kloppman was placing his hat back onto his head and backing away out of the room, speaking to the elderly Mrs. Cook, head of the Bottle Alley Home, as he did so. The pair nodded to Jack when they saw him but did not stop talking to each other as they left the bunkroom. As they passed him, Jack could hear that they were discussing what to do next.
"You can have the morgue come pick up her body tomorrow and we can take it from there," murmured Kloppman as Mrs. Cook removed her glasses in order to wipe a tear away from her eyes. As a widow who never had any children, Abigail Cook came to regard all the girls who stayed in the Bottle Alley Home as her own.
Jack turned around and watched them slowly make their way down the stairs, slightly disturbed that Mrs. Cook didn't tell him to get out of the bunkroom. The loss of Hope must have struck her harder than he had first thought for her to ignore a chance to preserve the chastity of her girls -- it was well known that she didn't allow men in the bunkroom.
When he no longer saw their backs, Jack spun back and looked forward. The first sight he saw, besides the crowd of solemn girls around a single bunk, was a still figure lying on said bunk – a figure covered with a moth-eaten blanket. Hope.
With a sigh and his hands in his pocket Jack shuffled his way over to the gathering. Trying to keep his eye off of the bunk, he stepped over to where Stress stood, leaning into Gip's embrace. Jack tapped Gip on the shoulder. Tearing her eyes away from the morbid sight, Gip smiled weakly over at Jack and tipped Stress into his open arms. Stress hardly noticed, instead staring at Hope's fallen form, tears in her golden eyes.
Jack gave her shoulders comforting squeeze. When she felt his calloused hands through her thin white blouse, Stress turned her head up to look at him. "Kloppman couldn't save her, Jack."
He had no idea what to say. As a semi-orphan left to the streets with the death of his mother and incarceration of his father, loss was nothing new to him. He had lost many a pal to the jail-like Refuge, disease, street wars and more. However, this was the first time one of his own was struck down unexpectedly. "I know," was all he could say. With a dirty hand, he began to wipe away a tear from her face.
Stress swatted his hand away, pulled back out of his embrace and turned to face him. With a sniff she made a broad statement looking past the girls and Jack. "We've gotta get them for this, Jack."
Jack sighed again; he was expecting this. It made sense that she would want to get revenge for Hope's death. Unfortunately, for the most part, Stress was all bark and no bite -- she left the fighting to other's, such as Jack, Rae and Gip, all admittedly more skilled in hand-to-hand fighting. Knowing that he would never be able to talk her out of vengeance, Jack focused on trying to get her to think of something else, at least for the moment. "Does Medda's sound good to ya, tonight?"
Gip and Rae both turned from their vigil to stare at Jack. There lie Hope, all the life wiped from her body, and Jack wanted to go ogle vaudeville performers at Irving Hall. With a snort, Rae turned from Jack to glance at Stress -- surely she would decline.
"You know, it does," Stress affirmed, despite her companions shocked expressions. Without turning back to look at Hope's bunk, Stress waved behind her. "There ain't no way in hell that I'm staying in here."
And no one said anything against her.
--
Jack exited the lodging house alone, drawing a cigarette from his vest pocket as he did so. He paused on the steps in order to strike a match. It was then, only after the flame lit his cigarette and he had tossed the match to the dirt that Jack puffed on his cigarette and nodded towards Rafe. "What happened to Angel?"
Rafe rose from where he had been perched on the bottom-most step, a seat he had taken after Angelstar had silently walked off. Shrugging, he answer, "Not too sure, Jack. After you ran inside she just wiped her nose, got up and walked away. I tried to stop her," he quickly improvised when Jack stared harshly down at him, "but she said she needed to get away from here for now." Good one, Rafe, he said to himself, get Kelly pissed at ya before he tells ya about the attack.
Jack nodded again, staying his cigarette in his right hand, flicking it's ash absent-mindedly. "That's Angel for ya. Though I know she ain't gonna be the only girl upset over this."
"So she's really -- gone? That kid, dead?" Rafe asked, his stomach tightening at the thought, despite his curiosity. He had hoped that maybe Angelstar was wrong somehow -- that one of his own hadn't struck down a young girl.
Jack nodded sadly. "Yeah."
Rafe gestured to the building front. "How's Stress taking it?" When Jack looked at him again, this time with a shrewd look in his eyes, Rafe quickly added, "Ya know. When I met them today, the two were together. I just figure this would hit her real hard, too."
Jack nodded again, bringing his cigarette to his lips, but no quite puffing on it. "Yeah," he answered, taking the cigarette off of his lips and throwing it to the ground. Not even nicotine was making this night any better. "In fact, that's why I'm out here, waiting. I told her I'd take her over to Irving Hall to get her mind off of things."
Rafe cocked his head in interest. "Irving Hall?" Irving Hall had been one of his favorite haunts back when he worked the streets so he was well acquainted with the performances there; he wasn't sure that it was the best idea to bring Stress there to forget about the night's occurrences.
Jack's somber mood cracked as he let out a small chuckle. "It's been such a long day and all that I forgot that you just arrived round here, Rafe," he said, not noticing Rafe's annoyed expression, fortunately hidden in the darkness of night, "Irving Hall, ya see, is ran by a friend of my family. She lets us in and gives a couple of rounds on the house. We all love Medda."
Medda. With a wolfish grin, Rafe recalled the voluptuous owner of Irving Hall, and the countless times she had had him thrown out for sneaking into her establishment. It would be a nice change to be welcomed in the Hall instead of hiding outin the rowdy crowds. Figuring it would be an even better benefit to continue in his charade, Rafe looked at Jack thoughtfully. "Irving Hall, hmm. Sounds like a swell place. It's a shame that I've never been to ajoint like that."
Jack, obliviously, fell for Rafe's ploy. "Well, I'm sure that some of the others are gonna want to join us, so I think it'd be alright if you came, too."
Rafe rubbed his hands eagerly. "Thanks, Jack that sounds great."
Jack turned around and looked at the front of the Bottle Alley Home. When he saw that no one was exiting, he swung back around and looked at Rafe. "Yeah, just do me two favors, though."
Rafe squinted his left eye and looked questioningly at Jack. "What are the favors?"
Jack grinned a crooked grin. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to head over to Duane Street and tell the others. The lodging house is on the way to Irving Hall and I promised Stress that I'd wait for her and whatever other girls are coming, but I think that the guys should hear about Hope. I want them to understand what this means."
Hesitantly, though he thought he already knew, Rafe asked, "And what does this mean?"
Jack shrugged his shoulders. "This means war. Those Wraiths are going down."
Rafe gulped and managed a weak smile. "I hear ya, Cowboy."
"Good," he replied before starting back up the steps. Rafe took that to mean that he should get going already, heading over to Duane Street. However, when Jack reached the top of the steps he called back to Rafe. "Hey, buddy."
Rafe turned around, a little annoyed at the "buddy" remark, though he let it slide. "Yeah?"
"I almost forgot the second favor. When we get to Irving Hall, remember what I said earlier: Stress is spoken for."
Rafe watched Jack enter the lobby of Bottle Alley, shaking his head. That Jack Kelly sure had a one-track mind.
