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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VII. ENTER MORE COMPLICATIONS
Paralyzed and you don't seem to care…
Dice got up from his crate. Holding up his arms, he took a step back. "Hey, hey, Loki. What's with the knife?"
Loki glanced at the blood-crusted knife he held in his hand and grinned. "You mean this knife, Dice?" He tossed it once more before walking forward. Dice flinched when the younger boy thrust it right under his nose. "Like it?"
Dice took a step back, nearly tripping over the crate. The other boys remained back a little, readying themselves to fight or flee depending on what happened next. Depending on what Loki actually did with that knife.
Dice kicked the crate out of his way before steadying himself. He glanced down at the blade and smiled nervously. "It's nice, Loki. You know, except for the blood and all."
Loki drew his knife back and hurriedly wiped it against his trousers. He smiled apologetically, an action that seemed quite out of place for all the malice his form was exuding. "You know how young girls are. They have so much blood in them. It was hard for me to keep this thing clean." No one responded to his claim. No one was too sure they understood what he meant. No one wanted to.
He enjoyed the quiet stupor that followed his pronouncement. He drank it in for a moment longer before bringing the knife eye-level with Dice. "How about now, Dicey? You like the knife now? Hmm?" His words came out in a sing-song manner and he damn near danced around the boy waving his knife. He was enjoying himself immensely.
Dice took a deep breath never removing his eyes from the steel Loki held in his hand. Rafe never had to deal with this shit. He opened his mouth to tell Loki to back off when he caught something carved on the blade's handle. Despite the blood that had filled the engraved portion it was easy to see that it was an ornate "M". The sign of the Marks. "What the hell is that, Loki?"
The blonde boy grinned cheekily and placed the metal against his cheek. He slowly caressed it down his cheek. This knife meant more to him than any of these Wraiths. He was proud to show it off to them. After all, it had been a gift to him from his brother.
Dice's beady eyes darted back and forth around. He was looking for something, anything, that would make sense of this situation. Nothing came to mind. But wait. His eyes fell on the door, left open after Loki had returned from the night. He stared at it before turning to look at the tall, lean brunet who stood next to it. Rhys. He blinked once in the boy's direction before returning his gaze to Loki. "Why would you have a knife like that? And with blood on it? If Rafe was here," he said, punctuating the statement with a hard look at the door, "he'd never let you get away with anything like this…"
"Oh, definitely," Loki agreed. His voice lost its childish tone; instead he adopted a more condescending manner. He had been waiting months for this moment. He might as well have a little fun before it ended. "If Rafe was here. But, luckily, I already took care of that. And, by the time he gets back, I'll be able to take him down."
Rhys listened to the cheap banter being exchanged between Dice and Loki and gulped. The Marks. He was the closest one of the boys nearest to the door. It was up to him to go out and get Rafe. At least, that is what he thought Dice was getting at. He half-closed his brown eyes and counted to three. When he opened them again he caught Gus' eye. The dark boy gestured to the door with his head and nodded once. Rhys sighed in relief. Gus would cover him so that he could go get some help.
Gus took a step forward drawing Loki's attention away from the door. "Where the hell did you get that knife from, Loki? Us Wraiths don't have dealings with the stinking Marks."
His ploy worked perfectly as Loki turned his gaze from Dice to Gus. Rhys took this opportunity to back out of the small room. He was gone before anyone noticed the empty space he left behind.
Now to find Rafe…
--
"Oh, Kelly. You look so down. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Jack looked up from the glass in his hand. "What? Huh?" he asked, surprised to see Medda looking at him with a confused expression. "Oh, I'm sorry Medda. I was just thinking about Stress and all."
Medda nodded. "I thought it had to be something like that." She raised her large purple feather up and used it to tickle his nose. "I've been talking to you for the past ten minutes and you haven't heard a word I've said."
Ten minutes? Jack pushed his seat away from the table and got to his feet. "Listen, Medda, I gotta go. Stress is waiting for me outside. I guess I didn't realize how long it was since she left." He leaned in and kissed the older woman on her cheek. "Treat these guys good, alright?" he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
Medda smiled and nodded. She adored the attention the young newsboys paid her. Her generosity kept them coming back to her establishment despite her aging. "Sure thing, Kelly."
He flashed her a quick grin before heading outside the Hall. The two of them should be just outside. They had nowhere to go together. And, if Rafe hadn't returned inside with Stress in tow, he must still be trying to persuade her.
But he was wrong. They were not there. They had already gone.
He scratched his head and looked about. There were plenty of people out on the street yet none of them were Stress or Rafe. "They've only been gone for ten minutes. They couldn't have gotten that far," he muttered to himself before pulling his hat onto his head. He took a few tentative steps away from the Hall before deciding on a plan.
Knowing Stress as he did, he doubted that she would listen to a word that Rafe said – and that's if Rafe was able to catch up with her in the first place. From first hand experience Jack was aware how fast that girl could run when she wanted. And where would she run to? Bottle Alley, of course. Even if Hope was still lying inside, Stress had nowhere to go but the worn steps of the Home.
Now that he had a destination in mind, Jack stared straight ahead. He would find her and talk to her. Heck, he might even apologize.
His concentration was so absolute, and his path so clear, he didn't even notice the pair huddled in the alleyway. This, of course, was a good thing.
--
Any thoughts of an apology fled from his mind as he stood there, arguing with Rae. "Just answer me, Rae. Is she, or is she not, in there?" He knew he was sounding desperate but after Rae had finally listened to his banging and opened the door to the Home, all he had wanted was a straight answer. Which Rae was just as determined not to give him.
Rae crossed her arms over her chest. "It ain't my fault that you decided to take Stress out only to lose her, Cowboy." She hadn't forgiven him yet for taking Stress out so soon after Hope's death. She felt he should have had a little more tact than that.
'Dammit, Rae. Can't you just help me out this once? Where the hell is she?" Jack braced his hands against the doorframe.
But Rae was not intimidated. She snorted instead. "Wouldn't you like to know," she said smugly before stepping back into the building. With all the force she had she closed the door.
It slammed in his face, effectively ending the conversation. Damn Rae, he fumed silently before removing his cowboy hat and scratching his head. Stress couldn't have returned to Bottle Alley that much was obvious. But, if not there, where was she?
He tossed his hat down onto the steps before lowering himself down beside it. She may not have returned yet but she would have to eventually. And he would be right there waiting to find out what took her so damn long.
--
Switch took a cigarette out from behind his ear and stuck it in his mouth. He struck a match against the sole of his boot and proceeded to light the end of the cigarette. He puffed on it twice before pausing just outside of Irving Hall. With all the uproar from the night before he had found it quite hard to sleep; therefore, a good hour before the rest of the newsboys would be rising, he found himself waiting for the circulation bell to ring. And, if he was lucky, he might be able to catch Medda out on her way out. Even if he couldn't get her to buy a paper off of him, at least she would tell him any news that she heard at the Hall.
It was quiet, something the boy had hardly encountered since he arrived earlier that season. The quiet was eerie and, considering all the recent attacks, it made him just a smidge nervous.
Two cigarettes later the quiet was beginning to rattle him. No one was to be seen on the street save the early morning grocers and vendors. He jangled the collection of pennies in his pocket nervously. What if one of the Wraiths came out now when he was alone? He had not been afraid prior to the slaying of Hope. When the other two boys got attacked last week he though he could handle himself. But dead, death and dying? He didn't even want to imagine that happening to him.
He shivered slightly and threw his newly lit third cigarette to the ground. He couldn't stand the chance. He would have to go back to the Lodging House and get some of the other boys. Safety in numbers and all that jazz.
Switch stuck his hands in his pockets and began to head back across town. His eyes were ever observing as he went. At any sight of an approaching thug Switch would have the opportunity to run ahead. He continued to walk briskly forward, watching all the while but not meeting the eye of any of the people passing by.
It was when he was avoiding the gaze of an officer on his morning beat that he saw the couple sleeping the alleyway. He took a step closer and recognized the profile of the girl. Half hidden by the shadow he saw her, her face resting against the man's shoulder. It was Stress, yes. But the man was not Jack. He had darker hair and was a few inches taller than the Cowboy; the ever-present bandana that was his trademark was absent. Stress was holding onto a man. And it was not Jack.
Switch took a hesitant step forward careful not to wake the pair. He looked down upon the man and squinted. From his first glance, it had not registered that he had seen the man before. Now, though, at such close a range, Switch could remember. Rafe. The new kid. He had done it. He had gone down to the Lodging House and then had gotten his hands on Jack's girl. This wasn't good.
He stumbled back away from the alley and hurried away so that there was a block separating him from them. He kicked the dirt in frustration. "I told you to leave her alone," he mumbled harshly under his breath. The boys needed Jack to help them in the fight against the Wraiths. They couldn't afford to let the leader take out a personal vendetta against a new kid who had expensive taste.
He knew what he had to do, though. He had to go get Jack. Maybe if he heard about it before he saw it for himself he would handle the news better. Yeah, right, he snorted to himself. But that didn't stop him from breaking into a run and heading back towards Duane Street.
Switch entered the doors of the Lodging House lobby and quickly looked about. He hadn't heard the circulation bell ring yet; hopefully he had made it back to the House before Kloppman woke all the boys up for their selling. Luckily, when he entered, Kloppman was still sitting at his desk, hunched over and looking at papers. He rushed forward and placed his hands on the edge of the desk. "Kloppman, where are all the guys?"
The old man looked up from his work and smiled sadly. "Morning, Switch. Didn't I just see you head out?"
Switch shook his head impatiently. "Where is everyone? Did you wake them up yet?"
"Not yet. I was just about to go up there and get them going."
The boy didn't even stop to say "thanks". Switch tore up the steps and approached the bunks, heading towards one in particular. Surprisingly, the boys – most of which who were plotting an hour ago when he had left the bunkroom, were all asleep. But the one bunk he was looking for was empty; Jack was not there.
Without slowing his pace, Switch headed back down the steps. He met Kloppman halfway down the flight. "Have you seen Cowboy at all?" he asked, almost out of breath.
Kloppman paused on the step. "Calm down, boy. Jack just entered the Lodging House," he answered before jerking his thumb behind him. Switch ran past him, allowing the old man to continue on his ascent.
"Jack? Jack? Where are you?"
Jack laughed hollowly, his heavy-lidded eyes an indication that he was only just making it back to the Lodging House. "Right here, kid."
Switch stopped and stared. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Let's just say that I didn't get much sleep last night."
