Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not Newsies, not LOVE. NOTHING!

Title: Violence Recovery

Author: Buttons14

Genre: Drama

Rating: PG-13 (subjects to change)

I think high self-esteem is overrated. A little low self-esteem is actually quite good…Maybe you're not the best, so you should work a little harder.—Jay Leno

Chapter 5—Racetrack

In the morning my feet are caked in dirt. My jacket is pressed against my face, sticky and rough. I tread lightly to the bathroom and rinse them off. When I come out, Boots is sitting at the kitchen table.

"Hogging the bathroom again?" he tries to joke, but no emotion travels to his eyes. They are forever vapid and cold.

I smile and attempt a laugh. It comes out like a croak.

"Cold last night?" he asks next.

I shrug and take off my coat, replacing it on the coat rack.

The white sheets on my bed are stained in brownish-black dirt. I heave the covers off. Racetrack is still sleeping with a smile on his face.

Someone knocks on our front door briskly three times. Boots answers it and Denton steps in.

"Morning," he says, his eyes darting around the room in silent inspection.

"Morning," I say.

"You boys almost ready for breakfast?' asks Denton.

I nod, my chin pressing against the blankets in my arms.

"Better wake up Racetrack and come over for breakfast," Denton tells us.

Behind me is my bare mattress and Racetrack. He is sleeping soundly. The sheets feel heavy and my arms ache from the strain of holding them for so long and in such an awkward position. I throw them onto the couch when Denton leaves and I put on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I shove a black toque over my grungy hair and nudge Racetrack lightly.

"Wake up," I mumble.

His eyes flutter open. "Mmm…morning Spot," he says sleepily, squinting about the room.

"Breakfast time," I tell him.

Racetrack sits up and pulls himself out of bed. In the main room Boots is pulling on his shoes and shrugging on his jacket.

"I'll meet you guys over there," he says. And he leaves.

Race throws his bag to the floor and rifles through it in search of his clothes. I wait.

"How'd you get your name Race?" I ask. He doesn't look very fast. So I am confused.

He shrugs, leaning back so that the small of his back is resting on the bed. "I was always on the run," he smirks," the world was my 'racetrack'."

I can't believe that I ask it: "What are you running from?" The words are delicate and the topic even more so. I bite my tongue, ashamed.

But Racetrack answers easily. "From my old man." His face hardens slightly, but his voice is still determined and steady. "All I know," he says calmly, "is that when I fall in love with a woman I will be good to her and her kids. People who blame violent natures on the violence in their past are talking bullshit. I don't want my kids to go through what I went through."

I lump forms in my throat. Racetrack smiles sadly. "And what are you running from, Spot Conlon?"

The last names stings. My heart skips a beat and I flinch. "Reality, I guess," I admit. "I don't want to accept that I'm of no use anymore. I couldn't help Lucas when he needed me, so who can I help?"

"Being here," begins Racetrack, before pausing dramatically, "is helping all of us. Having everyone here proves that we're not alone. You helped me."

0o0o0o0

Sunshine Falls is bigger than it looks. It stretches past the bay which it looks on to. There are hiking trails that extend past the cabin area. But I stay in the lodge.

Denton is playing solitaire.

The room is soft and barely moving. As if not breathing at all. The cards flip in rhythm, occasionally pausing to be placed on an alternate pile, but in a constant beat. The flicking sound is repetitive and comforting. Denton shifts in his seat.

"I talked to Racetrack today," I say hoping that I don't have to say any more.

Denton doesn't answer, as if waiting for me to continue.

"He told me about his nickname."

There is a falter in Denton's hand.

"How do you know about us?" I ask him. "How do you know that we're abused when you see us in the street?"

Denton sighs and blinks a few times, running his raw fingers over his brow. "There's something in your eyes," he says, "in the way you carry yourselves."

I think about Boots' eyes, cold and barren. Do my eyes look like that?

"It's like something has died," Denton's own green-grey eyes flicker in memory. "A sort of hope and comfort. Warmth that you see every day, but don't trust. At the same time, however, something is born. From the ashes, much like…a phoenix from flames. A hatred and a thirst. Different from the thirst of victory. Something very different."

"And you can…see that in me?" I ask, in slight and quiet awe.

Denton cricks his head to the side. "Yes. I can see it in you. I can see it in all of you. And sometimes I wish I couldn't."

0o0o0o0

The cabin is quiet during the day, even when people are in it. The fridge is full of cans of soda and the doors to our rooms remain shut to keep the outside world from seeing them. Someone is out on the lake, cutting the water like a knife and Coin has climbed a tree and is reading, surrounded by a mass of red and orange leaves.

Aurora is chasing geese on the beach. They squawk and bristle about, reluctant to take flight. Aurora laughs with a childlike joy. Racetrack sits on the porch and chain smokes for hours on end, twirling the cigarette in his fingers wistfully. Jack and Skittery take periodic trips to town, running errands for Lyra and Ethan. Autumn lies in the lodge with a notebook propped up on her stomach, scribbling away purposefully. Andra stalks around the forest, searching for pictures. Charley and Ele sit beside each other in the games room, facing the lake and staring out at it with a sort of reserved vagueness.

Crutchy watches the entire collection of the Indiana Jones movies again and Blink checks in on him every once and a while. I roam around the grounds. Watching people and trying to find this thrist that Denton was talking about. But we all carry ourselves differently and I don't know what he's talking about.

End Chapter

((Hey! What's up everyone! (dodges fruit thrown at her by angry reviewers) Oops, sorry! I know, I know! I should have updated sooner! Well…review and tell me if it was worth the wait or if I should really get my act together because I'm a giant slacker))

Shoutouts:

Sapphy—I wish I went to an overnight camp too! I went to summer camp, but it was only day camp (for art). Worst line in all of Les Miserables? Said by Marius o' course! A-hem:

"You will live 'Ponine, dear God above….if I could heal your wounds with words of love…"

HOLD ON! What does that mean? He likes Cosette, who I hate also, but still. Get it right dammit.

Erin Go Bragh—Yeah, don't you hate it when you're actually learning something interesting and other people are making a joke out of it? And yeah, the 'lust' typo was pretty screwy. The 'i' is next to the 'u', so it's not my fault! Ethan is a character sent in by Utopia Today. He's one of the kids who used to stay at VRCT also and he co-owns Sunshine Falls with Lyra. I'm not sure why it's you and Ethan, there's no 'relationship' intended by it. And don't worry, my ear is still on and you haven't talked it off.

Kid Blink's Dreamer—Wow, from a super-long review to a short one! Talk about culture shock. I just used culture shock wrong. Whatever. It's late.

Coin (is lazy)—Yeah, Race and Sapphy do make a cute couple, don't they? (yanks the two of them forward)

DON'T YOU?

Both: yes ma'am.

Good.

Nakaia Aidan-Sun—too bad about the superhero thing. Maybe HHC doesn't actually stand for Headquarters Company, but some other creepy acronym…I hope Blink isn't still mad at you for making everying screwy. Muses and Newsies can be such drama queens, can't they be.

Spitzer!Muse: excuse me? I am a drama queen.

Michael!Muse: me too!

Peter!Muse: don't you guys mean 'drama kings'

Both: no.

Dreamer110—There's lots of snow here. Then again, I live in Canada and I discovered today (in Geography class) that Canada used to the coldest country in the world. 'Used to be' because after the USSR split, some of its new countries are colder. Wow, I'm just chalk full of useless information, aren't I? It's late and I'm delirious.

Shooter O'Brien—hmmmm….World Cultures…what's that like? Sounds interesting. I'm not really scared of the girl I baby-sit. I saw her the other day and didn't even think about creepy-imaginary-friend-Jules until afterwards.

C.M. Higgins—Ah yes, all the tension! Muah-hahahahahahaha! See what I can do?

Madison Square—I'll be sure to send you an application for my next CC. Sorry about the '0o0' thing, I can't put the lines in on my word processor, so…(shrug). Your English teacher makes you call him captain? Wow, he sounds…anal. We just finished our semester. The English exam was super-easy, so I'm not too worried anymore.

Pidge—Stop review with silly stuff like that!