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

Title: Violence Recovery

Author: Buttons14

Genre: Drama

Rating: M (subject to change)

It's hard to believe I'm still alive
Hey, I'm sorry mama
Yeah, I was just a little boy
It hurts, it hurts so bad sometimes
Feeling not many joy
And I've landed in a place I don't belong—I've Landed; Rehab

Chapter 19—Jack

Sapphy had been gone for two days. The bruise on my knee was receding healthily and the scab beneath my eye was drying up predictably.

Racetrack was more withdrawn than usual. The night before he'd tried to run away, but Denton met him at the door and convinced him to stay. It was late and I was truing to fall asleep, distracted by the throbbing bruises on my ribs.

The light in the hall flicked on, displaying a dim line around the door. "Where are you going?" asked Denton, not a demand, with a touch of curiosity in the words. As if Racetrack was just going out to the corner store for a gallon of milk. The sentence hung darkly in the air. I strained my ears.

"I've got to leave. Get out of here." As always, Racetrack's voice was confidant and sure.

"Just stay until the morning and then I will drive you wherever you want," said Denton, seeming next to uncaring that Racetrack wanted to leave.

The argued for ten…fifteen minutes. I heard heavy shoes on the stairs and a door creaking open down the hall.

The next morning Racetrack was still here.

0o0o0o0

"Spot, could you please help Jack with the groceries today? Skittery has some…other errands to do."

"Sure."

Medda smiles. "And it will be good to get you out and about."

I knew she meant because of my cuts and bruises. I had been mostly brooding in my room, only surfacing for meals and classes. Charley had come by a few times to ask if I wanted to play Crazy Eights, but I didn't answer the door. I watched Sapphy move her stuff out from my bedroom window.

But stepping out into the midday air with Jack was refreshing. It soothed my bruises and made my movements feel more graceful and smooth. In the car, Jack cracked down a window. "Do you mind?" he asked, pulling a lighter out of the cup holder. I shook my head and cracked down my own window, burying my hands in my pockets. I watched as Jack pulled a thin, handmade cigarette from a pocket. He lit it up and the car filled with a sweet, hazy smoke that made my head spin.

"Jack…is that a joint?" I asked.

He blew some of the smoke out his window. "Yeah…you want some?" Reluctantly he began to hand it over.

"No."

"Good, didn't think I could spare any."

The car filled with smoke, until the windows were a bit clouded. I was feeling lightheaded, but kind of giddy. I focused on breathing in as little as possible. "Should you be driving?"

He laughed a bit, sounding mellower already. "Don't give me that. Listen, I've been having a rough week, OK?"

We pulled into the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly and Jack turned off the engine. The radio was still on, blaring some upbeat rock song by a band called Lagwagon. Jack took a short toke on the joint.

"So…where's Skittery?"

Jack rested his head back against the headrest, so his face was pointed towards the roof of the car. "Gone to visit his jackass brother in rehab." He laughed a bit and smoke poofed out of his nostrils. "Bastard beat Skitts and he still goes to see him. Thinks it's 'the right thing to do'." It was clear that Jack didn't agree.

"Have you ever been to rehab?"

He fixed me with a glazed look, as though attempting to comprehend what I had just said. "Man, I don't need to do rehab. Sure I dabble in a bit of this and a bit of that, but I'm OK."

"And what's Skittery's brother in for?"

"He OD'ed on coke and heroin a few months ago, but he was pretty heavy into Crystal Meth too, apparently. Skitts said their house was always littered with sliced up beer cans. Says he did his Meth off of them. I've always used just a plain old light bulb, but I guess a can could work too…" his eyes were unfocused. He took a final hit on his joint.

"You're a fuckin' addict," I said, trying to catch his eye. The clear gray eyes that I wasused to seeing on him were more vacant and lonely than I'd ever seen them. They looked watery and empty, that look people get right before crying.

Jack's eyes narrowed sharply for a minute before relaxing and staring blankly out the front windshield. "Nah, I'm a connoisseur," he said simply, matter-of-factly. He laughed again. "Let's go." He pushed the door open and stepped into the slushy parking lot. "Besides," he said, as an afterthought, "If your mother had a fondness for her twelve-year-old son's naked body, you'd want to take something every now and then. Just to forget."

I froze. So did Jack. He frowned, thinking about what he had just said. Then he turned around and threw up, right in front of a shiny 2004 Acura.

End Chapter

(('K, so I'm off the London and Paris in a few days. Maybe I'll update before then. I've been kind of bored and uninspired, but I thought I'd better catch up. Sorry if this chapter was a little lacking in the…content area. Don't be mad, be glad that at least I hauled my lazy bum off the couch to write this.))

((Oh, in other new, got my license in the mail today. My picture don't such, so, whaddya know? I guess life's gonna turn out a'ight. Heh.))