Heyyyyyyyy guys.
It is day 2 of semi quarantine in the SomedayonBroadway household. If SomedayonBroadway lived alone, SomedayonBroadway would be freaking living it up right now. Since that's not the case, it's getting a little tense here. I hope that's not the case with you guys. I hope things are going well and I hope everyone is safe and healthy and not ready to gouge their eyes out quite yet.
Anyways...
Guest: Thank you so much! I'm glad you like it!
Rosie-Blooming: Thank you so much!
Here's some more angst to keep ya'll entertained!
Enjoy!
Race was shaking. He couldn't stop. He was still covered in blood. It soaked through his shirt.
He felt nauseous.
"Tony? Tony!"
"Charlie?"
He was pulled into someone chest in an instant. He let it happen. He collapsed, falling into his big brother's lap, letting a couple more sobs escape him as Charlie's hands ran through his hair. "Hi, I'm Charlie... I'm Tony's brother..." he heard the older boy introduce.
He didn't move.
"My name's Conlon... Sean... but most people just call me Spot," the officer replied. Race didn't look up. He just let his body go limp. He wanted to pass out. But he wasn't sure he could close his eyes.
"Nice to meet you, Spot... can I just... can we have a minute?" Charlie asked quietly. His voice sounded shaken.
The hands made a steady motion through the boy's hair, again and again. Race tried to calm down. He couldn't.
The officer must've nodded, because Race heard him stand from the seat across from him in the quiet waiting room. He heard the quiet footsteps and the sound of the door opening and closing as he walked away. Jack was behind those heavy grey doors. This room was empty, save for them.
Everything was too quiet.
"Racer, are you hurt?"
Everyone had asked him that. Race didn't know why. He didn't understand. The cops, the EMTs, everyone had asked him if he was hurt. He didn't know. He couldn't feel anything anymore.
"I... I don't know..." he replied, just as he'd replied so many times before. "I just... Crutchie... I-"
"Talk ta me, kiddo... what happened? Where's Drake?" Charlie asked quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to his baby brother's shoulder. Race sniffled and stretched his legs out on the chairs beside him.
They must not have told Crutchie much over the phone. He hadn't had the strength to call him himself. But that question made the kid break. His breaths sped up as he tried to figure out how he was going to live with himself for the rest of his life. "I... Drake-"
"Baby?!"
"I got him, Mama..."
"Have you guys heard anything yet?"
It was all too much. Race couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. There were two more people in the room. He couldn't look at them. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
Before Race could blink, someone was squatting down in front of him. "Race, what. Happened?" It was David. Jack's best friend. The two had been inseparable since freshman year of college.
David looked terrified.
Sobbing even harder, Race tried to figure out what to say. His mouth opened, as if words would magically form for him. He didn't want to speak. He didn't want to think. He just wanted Jack.
"Davey, he's scared, okay? Back off," Charlie demanded calmly. But Race felt the arm around him tighten as the hand in his hair settled. Another hand was on his leg. Race flinched.
"It's just me, baby... it's Mama..." the woman promised. Race didn't look down at her. He just buried his face in Charlie's leg.
The second he closed his eyes, he saw dead grey ones staring back at him, unseeing, but still somehow looking betrayed. Race sobbed.
And then he saw the strongest man he'd ever known, crying out in pain over and over again as he bled out on his own living room floor.
He just wanted Jack.
"Oh that's Jack. Don't pay him any mind right now... he's in one of his dazes..."
Jack. Little Tony stared at the older boy. According to his social worker, there would be two other boys in this house. This was the oldest. Jack Kelly. Sixteen, if he remembered correctly.
Tony didn't want to be anywhere near that boy. He looked all too focused, though there was a pencil gripped tightly in his hands and what looked like a small sketch pad in his lap. There were earbuds in his ears and a hat backwards on his head.
The boy looked so much bigger than him. Tony didn't like bigger boys. They liked to pick on him. Because he was smaller. Younger. Easy to mess with.
He wished they'd just let him go home. Or at least have a smoke.
Just as Tony was about to look up, to look away, those green eyes flickered up.
"Oh, are you back with us, honey?" The kind woman beside him asked. Tony hid behind her just slightly. And Jack smirked.
"I am if this is the newbie," he replied, taking the headphones out of his ears and tossing everything aside. "Hey, kiddo... I'm Jack..." he introduced, standing up and taking a couple steps forward. "You must be Antonio-"
"Tony," he corrected immediately, taking a step back as Jack looked down at him. He didn't like this. He didn't want to be here. His mother wasn't that bad. He just wanted something familiar.
But the older boy's smile never faded. And Medda made no move to protect him from whatever was coming. "Okay. Tony... it's nice ta meet ya. Ya need some help with your bag?"
In all honesty, his back was starting to get heavy. He wasn't sure he'd slept the night before. He was tired. But he shook his head and tried again to hide behind his new foster mother.
She gave him a sad smile but stepped aside and gave him a full view of his new foster brother. The older boy did not take any steps closer to him. "Okay... can I show you your room?" he asked.
Tony did not like this boy. He wouldn't leave him alone.
He wanted a smoke.
"It's okay, sweetheart... it's just upstairs. I'll be right down here in the kitchen if you need me," Medda promised, resting a hand on his head. "Jack will take you up to meet Charlie, okay?"
She didn't give him a choice. She just nodded at Jack and then turned to make her way to the kitchen. And Tony was left alone with this stranger who could kill him with his bare hands.
But the bag over his shoulder was slipped away. And Jack slung it over his own. "C'mon, kid... Charlie can't wait ta meet ya!"
The kid shyly followed the other boy to the stairs. He watched Jack practically bounce up the steps. And he followed. Where else could he go?
"Crutchie! He's here!" Jack exclaimed, rushing into one of the rooms at the top of the stairs. The younger boy stood awkwardly at the top, not sure whether or not he should follow.
But Jack was back out there in a second. "It's okay, kid. Ain't no one gonna hurt ya here," he promised, rushing up to the boy and wrapping an arm over his shoulders. Tony tensed. But he didn't shrug off the touch.
It was oddly calming.
And, once he was inside the room, he found another boy perched up on a window cushion, freely typing away at his computer, only to look up with a grin when he stepped into the room. "Hey! You must be An-"
"Tony!" Jack corrected immediately, looking down and giving him a smile to match this other boy's. Charlie. This must've been Charlie.
"Tony," Charlie repeated. "Nice ta meet ya, pal! You can call me Charlie, or Crutchie... whichever's easiest for ya..." he joked, reaching for two metal crutches leaned up against the wall beside him. Tony's eyes widened. The boy limped up closer to him. It looked like one of his legs didn't work. "You need anythin', you come ta me or Jack... we got ya," he promised, giving him a pat on the shoulder.
Tony just wanted a cigarette. Just one. Just to make this easier. "Ok..." he mumbled, his voice sounding just a little bit petrified.
"Okay..." Crutchie repeated, a small smile on his face. "Here, your room's across the hall from Jack's," explained, heading out of the room he was in.
They both seemed so happy he was there. Tony didn't understand. But he followed them down the hall where he found his own room waiting for him.
There was a bed. Already made up. Black and white comforter and pillows contrasting each other perfectly. The walls were white, save for one. That one was dark blue with empty frames and hooks hanging on it. "Thank Jack for the decorating. He did it ta my room too when I first got here... he won't feel bad if ya don't like it..."
He heard Jack scoff. He didn't want to turn around. He blinked back that tears that stung at his eyes.
These people were so excited to have him. And they'd didn't even know him yet.
They had no idea the true mess he was.
"Thank you, Jack..." he mumbled out, taking in the room made just for him.
It was perfect.
Everything went quiet for a moment. Race tried to convince himself that everything was okay. He couldn't. He tried desperately to keep his eyes open, where all he saw was a sickening white color. But the second he closed them again, he shook his head.
Dead eyes. It's all he could see. Dead eyes and blood on his hands.
So much blood.
"David... honey... would you mind getting Katherine from the airport?"
Race only let another sob out at his mother's request. His brother was supposed to pick up Katherine. His brother would stay up all night with him and then go to the airport to bring his fiancé home safely. Because Jack was amazing. Jack was good and safe and pure and Race might have killed him.
He couldn't breathe. He felt nauseous.
"Yeah... Yeah... I'll be back..." he stated. Race heard him stand. He didn't look up. Crutchie ran another hand through his hair. "Call me as soon as you hear somethin', okay?"
Race whimpered. David sounded so sad. And it was his fault. But he didn't have time to apologize again before the man himself was squatting down in front of him. "He'll be alright, kid... you know Jack... he's strong, remember?"
The kid only sniffled, whimpering just a bit as he hid all over again. They hadn't seen Jack. Not when he couldn't speak. Not when he had tears streaming down his face. Jack thought he was going to die. Jack was scared. And Race was scared too.
Running was the only logical thing to do. It had to be. That's why he'd done it. Run, that is. Because he couldn't stay there.
He didn't deserve them.
He didn't know where he was. He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was, Medda had caught him. He just wanted one hit. Just one.
One had turned into ten a little too quickly.
His high wasn't doing much for him. Not at the moment. He didn't care. He just wanted away. To where, he didn't know. But he knew he wanted away.
He didn't know where he was. And he never would figure out how Jack did.
"Tony! Tony, stop!"
Maybe he'd been there this whole time. Maybe Tony had just been so focused on crying and getting away that he hadn't noticed.
He didn't yell back. He just kept running. Because he didn't want this.
He didn't want to burden another family. Another home. That's all he was. A burden.
"Tony!"
He didn't see the lights. He didn't even know how he'd gotten here. Maybe it was on purpose. Maybe subconsciously he'd wanted this. But he froze when he heard the loud honk. His heart tightened.
What was he doing?
"Tony, no!" Arms were around him. He was shoved to the ground. It hurt. Pain shot through his right wrist and his hands that had been scraped trying to break his fall.
But he didn't have time to figure out all of what had just happened. Because someone scooped him up and threw him over their shoulder.
That was when he suddenly found his voice. "Put me down! Lemme go!" Jack didn't. He said nothing as he carried him over to the side of the road to a bus bench that happened to be empty. He was thrown down onto it. He made a move to stand and run again, but his forearms were grabbed right below his elbows. He hissed. But Jack did not let go.
"What... in the actual hell... were you thinking?" he asked, almost completely out of breath.
They'd been running for a while.
"Just get offa me! Leave me alone!" the younger boy screamed. People were watching. But Jack paid them no mind.
Tony could feel the eyes on him. He hated that.
"You think I'm gonna leave you alone afta' that?! Ya got another thing comin', kid!" Jack yelled, shaking him only a little. "Why were you runnin'?"
A bitter laugh escaped the boy as he broke all over again, shaking his head and letting the tears fall as the small sobs escaped his lips. "I... I d-don't know..."
"Bullshit, Antonio!" Jack called, staring him down firmly. "You don't get ta run off like that n' do somethin' that stupid and not know why! Do you have any idea what coulda just happened-"
"I don't belong there, alright?!" he finally cried, looking up at his foster brother finally.
But Jack didn't move. "What? Because ya got high?" he asked, his voice loud and pointed. "You think I ain't gotten high before?" he asked. "You think Charlie ain't gotten high before?" That was what made Race pause for a minute. Because no, he hadn't thought that. "Newsflash, kid, we're teenagers. Teenagers do stupid stuff. Troubled ones especially. And you ain't the first troubled kid that Medda's taken in," he stated obviously.
The boy didn't know what to say. He tried to get out of Jack's grip, only for Jack to kneel down in front of him, still grasping his arms carefully. "Kid... you can't just... you can talk ta me... you can talk ta Charlie... hell, you can tell Medda you'd rather talk to a complete stranger, just as long as you're talkin' ta somebody!" Jack insisted. Tony could see the tears beginning to fill up in his eyes, even through his own. "I'm scared for you, Tony..."
Tony was scared too. He really was. "I... d-don't wanna talk ta nobody... I just..." he cut himself off with a shrug. He didn't know what he wanted. He just didn't want to deal with this. Not right now.
"Look, I know ya wanna see your ma... I know everything changed really fast for you... but I can promise you that nothin' is gonna change from here on out..." There was a sincerity in Jack's eyes. One that made the boy's heart clench. "I am your brother now... I am gonna look out f'r you, I swear... you got me, ya got Charlie, ya got Medda, the last thing you are is alone, do you understand?"
For a moment, the kid didn't reply, simply staring down at the older boy, trying to figure out what that meant. He hadn't been alone before. He'd had his mother.
But this was different.
All he could do was shrug. And Jack sighed. "Alright, c'mon... we're goin' home..." he breathed, picking the child up again. Tony let him. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Jack's neck and let his eyes droop.
He didn't know what was happening. But he supposed it was okay.
Sniffling, Race reached up to wipe at his eyes. Charlie thumbed at the base of his hair, right at the top of the side of his neck.
They still didn't know what he'd done. That this was his fault.
That Drake wasn't coming and that he never would again.
It seemed like an eternity. It would be a long life. Race didn't know why he was still alive. After what just happened, everlasting darkness actually sounded peaceful. He didn't know what to do with himself. He felt disgusting. He just didn't know what to do.
He wasn't sobbing. He didn't think he could. He was too tired. But his cheeks were still soaked. And he couldn't close his eyes. All he could do was let Charlie's hand brush over his curls over and over again. It was his only constant in this world that had taken such a dark turn.
In truth, Race knew his life had never been too bright to begin with. But this was certainly something else.
He couldn't move.
It had only been a few minutes. It had to have been. The officer still hadn't come back. He turned to look, just to see if he could spot that man that would likely slap handcuffs around his wrists and haul him away any moment now.
That's when he saw it. The commotion. Nurses rushing towards the doors that they'd taken his brother through.
He was up in a second.
He wrenched the door open and tried to run with them. To his brother. To Jack. "What's goin' on?!" he screamed. Arms encircled his torso. Pain shot through him. More than one kind. "Jack!" he screamed.
"Tony, calm down... it's okay..." It was the officer. Spot. He hadn't gone far.
Medda was rushing towards him. No one was speaking to them. But that didn't stop them from hearing the words that were said next. "We got a flatline! We're losing him!"
"No!" he screamed, trying desperately to fight against the strong arms. "Jack!"
Medda wasn't trying to calm him down anymore. His mother was sobbing too.
And it was Race's fault.
"What's that?"
"It's a contract. Just between you n' me," Jack stated easily, sitting across the table from him. "Just so that what happened today won't neva' happen again..." he explained calmly.
Tony ran a hand through his damp hair. Jack had told him to shower. That it would make him feel better. It did. He felt calmer now. "Wha's it say?"
Without a reply, Jack slid it across the table to him.
It was blank.
"Whatever you want it to say, pal... just... somethin'... anythin' I can do ta help when you start feelin' like... like doin' that again..." the older boy said quietly. He slid a pen across the table. "Just write somethin'... please..."
"Like what?" the little boy asked, looking up at this person who had been a stranger only two months ago.
"Like... you agree ta let me keep a closer eye on you whenever I think you're... spiraling out of control... whenever I think ya might get hurt..." Jack suggested, reaching across the table to run a hand over his foster brother's hair. Tony could see his eyes widen in shock just a little when he didn't immediately pull away. He looked back down at the blank page and started writing.
Race couldn't breathe. Everything was blurry. He slid to the ground. The officers arms were still around him. He didn't know why.
Someone was screaming. He had no idea at the time that it was himself.
They all walked through those two doors. All of those nurses. Because Jack had flatlined.
They were losing him.
Another pair of arms surrounded him. Race couldn't hear anything else. Just a ringing in his ears. But suddenly, he was pulled into someone's chest. A hand was running through his hair. Smoothing back his curls. "-breathe... just breathe... please..."
"Clear!"
Race flinched.
"We got a heartbeat!"
That made Race shoot up. Charlie was there. Charlie was holding him.
But Race couldn't stop crying.
Charlie was holding him. He couldn't stop crying.
It was his own fault. He didn't understand. He shouldn't have said anything. It was stupid.
"Calm down, kid... Jack's gonna be fine..."
Jack was sitting in a hospital room getting a cast on his wrist. And it was Race's fault.
"He shouldn't a' been there..." he whimpered, curling up in his brother's lap. "Why did he do that?"
Letting out a long sigh, Charlie just continued to pet his hair. "Beats me, bud... Jack's first instinct is ta protect... he... he learned when he was younger that people leave him alone if he hits 'em..." It was almost funny, the way Charlie said it. But it wasn't making Race feel any better.
Medda had told them to stay put. To sit tight while she got Jack taken care of. Race felt horrible.
"This ain't your fault, you know that?" No. The truth was, Race didn't know that. "Those guys shouldn't have been messin' with ya... Jack was right about that..."
"They didn't say nothin' that wasn't true..." He didn't know why he was defending them. Their words hurt. But they were true. He knew they were true. "My motha' is in jail... my dad too... I smoke n' I can't focus on nothin'-"
"Racer?"
"What?"
"Go ta sleep..."
The demand was quiet. But Race sniffled. "Okay..."
There, laying across his brother's lap in an ER waiting room, Race fell asleep, an oddly warm feeling in his chest.
Jack was going to be okay. They were all going to be okay.
The tears had slowed now. At least for the moment. Officer Conlon was speaking quietly to Medda outside the door to the waiting room. Race rested his head on Crutchie's shoulder. The older man's cheek rested on his hair.
Race curled up at his brother's side. It had been hours now. It had to have been. Jack wasn't strong enough for them to see him. That's what they'd said. Race didn't want to think. He just wanted to see Jack. He just needed to see him.
The door opened quietly. Race curled in further on himself. He didn't want to know what would happen next.
But his mother kneeled down in front of him anyways. "Baby..." she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. "He was hurting you, wasn't he?"
He didn't answer her. He couldn't.
"Antonio... talk to me-"
"Ya wouldn't understand..." he whimpered out pathetically, knowing he sounded like a stupid teenager who just wanted to be left alone. But he didn't want to be left alone.
He just wasn't sure he understood himself.
"Honey... was Drake hurting you?" the woman asked again, wiping at a stray tear that fell down the boy's cheeks. Still he remained silent. He sniffled and tried to look anywhere but right at his mother's eyes. But that was all the reply that she needed. "Why didn't you tell somebody-"
Letting out a small sob, Race forced his voice to work. "I loved him, okay?!" he hissed quietly, still curled up against his brother's side. But by the arms that went to surround him, he knew that Charlie was no longer sleeping. "He... he loved me! He... he just-"
"Racer, what're ya talkin' about?" his brother asked softly.
It was too much. "Drake is dead, okay?! He's dead and it's my fault!"
He hadn't meant to scream like that. He hadn't meant to just blurt it out. But he wasn't ready to admit it.
A smoke. He needed a smoke. His hands were shaking.
Standing up fast, he rushed from the room, from the building, not even bothering with the elevator and heading straight for the stairs. He didn't know if anyone was following him. He didn't care.
"Jackie?"
"Hey, kiddo! What's up?"
Jack was putting a shirt on and grabbing for a jacket. He was in a rush. Going out. Maybe to meet someone. Race didn't know who. He didn't have time or energy to think about it.
Maybe he should turn around, say forget it. But Jack slowed down when he didn't immediately respond. He turned to him as the boy still hovered in the doorway. "What's wrong, pal?"
Race sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. Jack walked over to him slowly. But Race shook his head. "Nothin'... it... it don't matta'..." he tried to say, backing away to rush back to his own room.
But his big brother just followed up, wrapping arms around him from behind and pulling him back gently. "Hey... what's a' matta'?" he asked, gently spinning him around.
Race looked up at the older boy. "Nothin'... it's nothin'..." he tried again, but Jack looked down at him with eyes that clearly said he didn't believe that. "My... my dad made parole..."
Saying it just made it worse. And Jack's eyes widening made him want to cry all over again. "Oh Racer..." he sighed, reaching to pull him into a hug. The boy let him, but blinked the tears back. He had to stop crying. He'd done it too much already.
He was scared.
"He wants ta see me..."
Jack held him tighter. And Race let him. "You don't have to see him if you don't wanna... no one's gonna make you... n' if anyone tries, they got me ta answer to..." the older boy swore, smoothing his hair back. The younger boy sniffled and buried his head in Jack's chest.
It had only been two years since he'd last seen his father. It hadn't been long enough. "I j'st... he ain't neva' been questioned about how he treated me... n' he probably neva' will be... n' I's scared he might-"
At that, Jack scooped the thirteen year old up in his arms. "Hey, you're almost officially adopted! Don't think like that," he hushed.
"But-"
"Kid, he wants ta get ta you he's gotta go through a hell a' a lotta other people ta make it... I won't let that happen... I promise..." Race felt himself being set back down. He wasn't sure he wanted Jack to let go. But he let him anyways, knowing he was keeping him from something.
He just wasn't sure what.
"Hey... look at me..." his big brother coaxed. Race did. And Jack smiled. "I gotchu. I swear I do. Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Okay... do you want me ta stay?"
That was Jack. Always willing to give up everything for his brothers. And Race felt guilty. "No... it's fine..." he lied, offering a small, sad smile. "You goin' on some kind of date?" he asked, noting how nice his brother looked. His hair combed back, his black leather jacket pulled over his grey sweatshirt and blue v-necked shirt and his nice jeans on too.
Jack gave a nervous laugh. "Kid, I'll stay if you want me ta stay... I can reschedule these things..."
But Race shook his head. "It's okay... I'll be okay..." he promised.
Still looking skeptical, Jack paused for a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "I love ya, pal... just... call me if ya want me ta come back... I will..." he stated, leaned to press a quick kiss to Race's head.
Race nodded. "I love you too..." Jack looked at him, his eyes still cautious, but he turned to go. "Don't have too much fun..." the boy tried to joke.
Jack only turned to give him a cheeky smile. It made Race laugh.
He'd bummed a cigarette off of someone. They seemed to realize he was in distress. And they felt for him.
They didn't know he was a murderer.
He was out of tears. All he could do was stare blankly out into the parking lot as he leaned against the side of the hospital building.
Someone had been sitting next to him for a long time. Race didn't look over. He just kept staring straight ahead, waiting for someone to tell him he'd fallen off the wagon again.
Big shocker.
"I don't wanna talk about it..." he finally stated, his voice watery and cracking at every pitch.
A sniffle met the boy's ear. "I know, baby..." Medda stated. She didn't push. She didn't stare down. She just sat there, ready and willing to listen if he changed his mind.
"You all don't understand..." he whimpered, burying his face in his knees. "Jack... he don't understand neither... Drake wouldn't a' taken me away... he woulda been fine the next mornin'-"
"Honey, I don't think you're givin' your brother enough credit..." Medda almost warned. "If anyone would understand... it would be him..." she assured, reaching to run a hand over his hair.
But the way she said that caught Race's attention. Like she knew something he didn't. Something important. "Wha'd'ya mean?" he asked.
His Mama sighed, turning to him. Race looked over at her shyly, still holding a small cigarette between two of his fingers. "Do you remember your brother's best friend his senior year of high school?"
Of course he did. Everyone who knew Jack knew Jack's best friend from high school. "HP?" he asked obviously. "Yeah... so?"
The look that the woman gave him said it all.
Something in Race's mind clicked.
Race laughed as he watched his big brother run through the living room. Him and HP had just gotten home from school. And Jack had stolen something out of HP's pocket.
"Go long Racer!"
HP laughed genuinely, despite his intentions to be annoyed. "That's not fair, J!" he insisted, but as Race caught what he now recognized as a wallet, he took off running. "That kid's way too fast!"
"Guess ya gotta be faster!" Jack teased.
Race kept running as HP, a tall, masculine boy with short, dirty blond hair, chased him around the kitchen until he was able to effectively trap the younger kid in the corner. He playfully pushed Race back. He fell backwards, only gasping when HP grabbed him by the ankles and lifted him up.
He was a small thirteen year old. It was easy.
"You best give it up, short stack!" the football player teased. Race giggled and shook his head. And a sigh escaped the bigger boy. "Fine... guess we'll do this the hard way..."
It was quick. Race was thrown onto the couch and fingers squeezed at his sides. He gave up the wallet quick. "No fair!" he whined, even as the giggles escaped him.
But HP just laughed too and look back over at Jack who still stood in the kitchen with a smirk on his face. But that smirk fell when HP smirked back at him. Jack made to run.
HP was faster than him.
The taller boy slung Jack over his shoulder easily. Race loved the way his brother laughed at that. Race watched as Jack's best friend threw him down onto the chair beside the couch. They began to wrestle. But Jack was laughing to hard to do much.
So HP simply let Jack laugh. And he laughed right along with him.
"Harrison Parker..." Medda sighed nodding her head solemnly. "Your brother was head over heels for that boy..."
Race shook his head in disbelief. "But... but they weren't dating-"
"Jack and HP started dating during the end of Jack's junior year of high school," Medda stated knowingly. "HP asked out your brother after your brother dated Marley and that ended horribly... I wish I'd seen the signs sooner..."
Race tried hard to think. Jack had dated plenty of people throughout high school. That came with being popular, smart, playing sports and just overall, being Jack. Race didn't remember them all. Most of them hadn't lasted. He remembered Marley. Jack had been miserable with Marley. Race only met her once.
But HP had loved to hang out at their house. He loved to mess with them. In fact, the only memories Race had of HP were happy, playful memories. He could remember Jack smiling. All the time.
It wasn't that he hadn't known Jack was bisexual. He'd known for a long time. But... Jack had never mentioned the fact that him and HP were anything more than friends. Jack was touchy and loved to show affection by hanging on people's shoulders and just being close to them. It was normal for him to act like that with his friends.
"Five months in is when I found out. I don't know how long it had been going on and I thought maybe it was a one time thing... but he hurt Jack... wouldn't let him go out with his friends, locked him in his room once after drugging him and he..." It was hard for his mother to talk about. It was even harder for Race to hear. His big brother was invincible.
At least, that's what he'd thought.
"Honey... I saw the signs with Drake... and I will never forgive myself for letting it go on so long... but you never wanted ta listen to anyone when we tried to talk to you about it..."
She was right. It didn't surprise him. Medda was always right. He always went back. No matter what. Jack was stronger than him. Jack had gotten out.
Jack was at the sink. Race didn't want to bother him. He looked distressed.
He was crying.
Not sobbing. Not like when Race was upset. Race knew that when he cried, his brothers would hear him. They'd come running. It was almost comical.
This was different.
Jack's tears were slow. More angry. He kept sniffling, trying to hide any and all evidence that he wasn't keeping it together. Race didn't know what to do. He just wanted Jack to smile again. He loved it when Jack smiled. It made him feel all warm inside.
His mother had hardly ever smiled. At least, at him. Lord knows if Race never saw his father's evil grin again it would be too soon. But Jack's smile was different. It was calm and warm and genuine and free. It wasn't as bright as Crutchie's, that ray of sunshine. But it was smooth and perfect and it made Race feel safe.
"Jack?"
Clearly not expecting the voice, Jack jumped a bit, losing the grip he'd had on the plastic plate in his hands. He dropped the sponge he'd been using to wash it and went to turn around, but stopped himself.
Race had only seen Jack cry a handful of times. Jack didn't like it when Race saw him cry.
Taking in a shaky breath, the older boy rubbed his nose on the sleeve of his grey hoodie. "What?" he snapped weakly, still refusing to turn around.
Flinching a bit at the tone, Race looked down at his shoes and rocked back on them a little bit. "Um... do ya... are you okay?" he asked shyly, scratching at the back of his neck.
"I'm fine," Jack bit out, grabbing the plate and sponge and continuing to clean the dish he'd used for dinner. Medda had taken Charlie to the doctors. For his leg. It was just the two of them.
And HP. But HP had left.
Not knowing what to say, Race shrugged. "Okay..." he sighed, walking closer to his big brother and wrapping his arms around the older boy's middle.
The way Jack stopped everything was almost immediate. He sniffled harder as he turned the sink off and let Race hug him from behind.
It wasn't long before the older boy turned around and held Race back, gripping at the back of his shirt.
They didn't speak. Race just held his big brother tightly, letting him calm down for a minute in his arms.
Just like Jack would've done for him.
"Why... he neva' said nothin'... I didn't..." he didn't know what to say to make this less shocking than it was.
Jack had a strong wall up around himself when he was near those who didn't know him. Jack rarely ever let his guard down. But with HP... Race had never seen Jack like that. He always seemed happy with HP.
HP had taken advantage of that.
It made sense now. The way Jack had gotten so closed off and stressed out all the time. Medda had told Race that it was normal. That Jack was under a lot of stress with everything he had to go through his senior year, in order to graduate.
She'd lied to him.
"Jack didn't want you to know... he really didn't want you to know..." Those words just made Race hurt more.
Jack was more than any kind of big brother Race could've ever imagined. It still amazed him. How Jack had always seemed like Superman to him, despite all he'd been through.
"C'mon, baby... put that thing out... let's go back upstairs..."
Race could hardly move.
"Racer?"
"Jackie?"
"You know I love you, right?"
"Yeah..."
Sometimes Jack had to remind him. Because sometimes, Race forgot. Sometimes, Race forgot that he was lovable all together. Sometimes, Race forgot that Jack was his big brother and he always would be.
Up until the day he died.
"Just makin' sure..."
They were sitting on Charlie's bedroom floor playing cards. Charlie was doing homework on Jack's laptop. "He knows you's hidin' somethin', Racer..." the blond boy warned, not looking up from his work. "I'd just tell him what it is before he starts followin' you around..."
Race looked up shocked at Crutchie who only gave him a small wink. Okay, so he was hiding something. But he didn't know it was that obvious.
Looking back towards Jack, he caught his big brother's eyebrow raise up slightly, as if he was waiting for an explanation. Race just shrugged. "I don't know what you're talkin' about..." he tried to brush off, but Jack lightly kicked his shin.
"You little liar! Who're ya seein'? We saw him drop ya off n' Ma said you were goin' on another date with him on Friday!"
Race could feel a blush creeping up his neck. "It ain't no big deal!" he defended, focusing back on his cards. "We only went on one date!"
"Who is it?" Charlie pushed, still focused on the computer in front of him.
Giving his big brother a playful glare, Race finally just admitted it. "... he's really nice..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair nervously at that.
But his brothers were not satisfied. "And?" Jack prompted, leaning closer to the boy to give him a light nudge on the shoulder.
Letting out a nervous chuckle, Race shrugged. "He's... uh... he's mature... n' I like him a lot..."
"What's his name?"
The boy let a grin spread on his face. "Drake... his name's Drake Dillinger..."
"He's weak right now... we have him on a breathing tube... but he's a fighter. He's got a good chance…"
Race pushed past the nurse before they even finished speaking. He could feel his mother glaring at the back of his head. But he didn't care. He forced his legs to move into the room where he knew his brother was. And he pushed the door open.
Oi... I'm so sorry...
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