Thank you so much to all those who reviewed, it inspired me to update. Sorry it took long, I was stuck and busy. I'll try to get the next one sooner.

I give you chapter two.

A pure, blinding white assaulted Jack's eyes, making it impossible to see. He squinted and blinked a few times to try to gain some sort of vision, but from the position he was in, nothing was clear. From the sound of it, he was still in the parking lot. He could hear the ear splitting wail of an ambulance as it approached its destination, the sound of tires splashing through melting snow as they passed by behind him, and heavy footsteps crunching in the ice as they moved slowly and cautiously towards him.

Jack arched his back and shivered when he felt a cold, icy water seep through his sweater, causing it to cling to his back, as if it's mission was to seep through his frigid skin. Determinedly, he placed his arms behind him to push himself up, but yelped and whipped them back when his bare hands were plunged into freezing cold water. This action caused him to slip down onto his back completely with a splash, and soak his already dripping wet sweater.

All of a sudden, somebody grabbed Jack's upper arm roughly, to lift him out of the water. Taken by surprise, Jack let out a horrible cry of pain that caused the person to release him in shock. For the third time, Jack went tumbling backwards into the icy water. It felt as if a million tiny knives were plunging themselves into Jack's body, leaving behind a sense so frigid and piercing that he could feel himself going numb. Slowly, Jack rolled onto his knees and crawled out of the puddle in the parking lot to escape the cold.

Knowing there was still someone behind him, Jack turned to see who it was. His eyebrows knitted together when he recognized that it was the guy from last night. Jack tried to sputter out a few words, but found his teeth were chattering too violently against each other to get anything out.

"Bobby!"

Jack whipped his ahead around when he heard another voice coming from the right. The man that had been chasing him minutes before was jogging along the row of cars at a calm speed.

"Jerry… what the hell is going on?" Bobby asked the man. Great, Jack thought, these two knew each other. Jerry was out of breath from chasing Jack through the parking lot, and he paused as he took a few gasps.

"We have to get him back to the hospital Bobby, look at him. He's gonna get hypothermia!" Jerry spoke softly to Bobby.

"NO!" Jack cried out, panicked from hearing the word hospital.

Both men looked at the human icicle as if they had forgotten that he could talk.

"Nnno." He repeated through his chattering teeth, trying to convince the two that he was okay. "I c..can't..I d..don't wa..nt t..to go b….b..ack I..I'm fine."

"Yeah you sound pretty fine to me." Bobby answered sarcastically. "Cum'on, Jerry's right you're going back to the hospital." With that, Bobby made a move forward to lift Jack up.

"NO!!" Jack shrieked, for the third time. He knew he was defenceless from the cold, but he couldn't let these two people take him back.

"P..please." He said more softly. Bobby paused and looked at Jerry, who shrugged his shoulders in confusion.

"Maybe we should take him home, we can call ma on our way." Jerry whispered. Bobby rolled his eyes and turned back towards Jack.

"Look kid, I don't know why the hell you don't want to go back to the hospital, but I'm sorry. You're gonna need to."

Jack's heart dropped as he mustered the most pathetic, pleading stare he could and directed it towards Bobby. This was it, in desperate measures he was going to lower himself to this level. Fuck, he hated feeling so weak. He was pathetic, but he knew there was no way he could go back to the hospital. There were probably dozens of cops waiting for him there, after what he had done.

After looking back and forth between Jerry and Bobby for what seemed like forever, Bobby threw up his hands in despair.

"Jesus kid! If you're gonna look at me like that just get your ass in the car already."

Jack exhaled the breath that he'd been holding in, and shuffled slowly to his feet, having some difficulty because his entire body was shaking so badly. Once he reached the open back door, he lifted himself into Bobby's car and crawled in. Bobby and Jerry were still outside, having a conversation, or from what Jack could see, an argument. He wished they would just get in the car before he died of cold. Or maybe that wouldn't be so horrible.

Finally, Bobby got into the front seat while Jerry walked around to the other side. Jack fought to keep his eyes open as the car began to move, he couldn't afford to let his guard down now.

The ride was surprisingly short, and before he knew it, Jack found himself being guided into a house. Jack didn't look anywhere but the floor as he walked, even when he heard an unfamiliar male voice join in the conversation with Bobby and Jerry.

"Angel take him upstairs and get him some fucking warm clothes, I am not in the mood." Bobby shouted harshly. Without moving his head an inch, Jack lifted his eyes to see who Angel was through his bangs. Had the situation been any different, Jack would've laughed. This guy definitely did not look like an Angel. It reminded him of in the movies, when there was always some huge bad tempered guy named Slim, or Skinny Joe or something.

The angry looking teenager stomped past Jack and up the stairs, without even glancing at him, and making as much noise as he could, as if to prove how mad he was. Jack took a tentative step up the stairs, assuming he was supposed to follow.

If it had not been for his dire need of warm clothes, Jack would've taken this as an opportunity to bolt, but seeing as he was still shaking from the cold, Jack sighed and snuck up the remainder of the stairs, cringing every time one creaked.

When Jack reached the landing, he was beckoned into a room by Angel and stood uncomfortably in the doorway. The room was giving of a strange blue light, which made his head begin to throb.

"Take your shirt off." Angel commanded without turning around. Jack felt his heart beat speed up and his eyes grow wide, as a lump began to form in his chest. The lump was very slowly filling his lungs, and making its way towards his throat as Jack realized why he was really here. He would never learn would he, why did he think this would be different? Why had he trusted these guys out of all people? Because, Jack didn't trust people.

When Jack glanced up, Angel was now staring at him with expectation, and holding a sweater in his hands. Instantly, relief swept over Jack when he remembered the reason he was here. The lump in his throat all but vanished; replaced by the freezing chill he had previously been suffering from.

Nonetheless, Jack hated doing this. He knew when he took off his sweater all this stranger would see is weakness. Even so, he also knew that if he didn't get the freezing heap of wet, off in the next few seconds, he was going to get hypothermia, if he hadn't already.

Jack set his jaw and stared down at the floor with all his might, as he grudgingly removed his sweater and t-shirt. Jack dropped the articles of clothing onto the ground and glared at Angel directly in the eye, daring him to say something. Without breaking eye contact, he wrapped his arms around his waist and continued on shaking.

Jack could see shock mixed with pity as he looked into Angel's eyes, which disappeared quickly. Angel looked away and handed over the clothes.

"What did you say your name was?" Angel asked.

Shit. Jack didn't know which name he had used earlier. If he told this guy the wrong one and he went and talked to the other two Jack was screwed.

"I didn't." He settled on replying. Now he was about to figure out if he had just made a big mistake, some people don't like a smartass. Jack was relieved when all Angel did was raise an eyebrow.

"The bathroom's down the hall and to the right." He said after tossing Jack a baggy pair of sweatpants.

Hesitantly, Jack turned and wondered into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Jack gripped the counter in front of him with white knuckles and slowly lifted his head to gaze into the mirror. He never did like looking in mirrors, and at the moment all he wanted to do was smash the damn thing down. His wild hair was a greasy mess, hanging off his head and into his unnaturally pale face. Jack lifted a shaking hand to brush his bangs to the side and gazed into his red rimmed blood shot eyes, the cold wasn't the only reason he was shaking. Dejectedly, he shut his eyes firmly and began to change into the warm, comfortable clothes.

Cautiously, Jack pushed the door open and began to make his way down the hall towards the stairs. Angry voices floated up through the draftee house, bouncing against the walls furiously and causing Jack to pause, not sure if he wanted to venture down.

"Ma, I told you, he wouldn't come back to the fucking hospital!" Bobby's familiar voice shouted,

"Language Bobby!" an old woman scolded, probably the same one from the hospital. There was a pause, and then Jack heard a loud thump from his spot on the stairs which was followed by the sound of a hockey game being turned on to the TV.

"You said he had fallen into a puddle in this weather? Did you even think of his health? He had just ran away from the hospital, the poor boy could've caught hypothermia." The woman spoke calmly. Jack hated when people talked about him.

"There has to be a reason he ran away from the hospital Ma." Somebody else chipped in.

"Yes Jerry, there is. He ran away from home." The old woman… Mrs. Mercer replied. Shit. Jack fell back against the wall across from the stairs and slid down until he was on the floor, he couldn't take this anymore. She knew; this was it; the police were going to be here any minute.

"Noooo..." Jack moaned, while pressing his hands flat against his temples and shutting his eyes tightly.

Just as Jack found his thoughts heading into a place he didn't want to go, a concerned voice snapped him back to reality.

"Yo kid… are you okay?" Angel asked. Jack slid his hands over his eyes, pressing down hard, rubbing them together and bringing them up to brush the hair out of his face. He looked up at the large African American, who was standing awkwardly in the hallway, unsure of what to do and nodded.

"Wanna stop fucking staring at me like I'm some sort of unstable creature?" Jack snapped at Angel after a few moments. Jack hated when people stared at him, he didn't need it. Angel just stood there, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Woah there!" He laughed, "You'd better not let Ma hear you talking like that you little punk. Now get downstairs. Let someone into our house and this is the kindness he shows us?" Angel mumbled while turning and walking back off towards his room.

Jack decided not to dwell on the fact that Angel had just called who he assumed to be Mrs. Mercer Ma, and began to make his way down the creaky steps, trying to be as quiet as possible. The yelling in the other room was now replaced with hushed voices, mumbling together at a low rumble. Even that was hard to hear, because it was drowned out by the dead, constant echo of an old grandfather clock which was magnified in Jack's ears as it swung back and forth…back and forth…echoing……

"HEY!"

Jack jumped into the air and drew a sharp breath, blinking and taking his focus off the grandfather clock. All of a sudden everything was clear again, the clashing of pots and pans in a distant room, blaring rap music from upstairs (much to Jack's disgust), and the sound of an obnoxious commercial echoing off the television. Bobby was standing in front of him, giving him the strangest look.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked.

Jack released his grip on the railing and narrowed his eyes at Bobby, seething with anger.

"It's none of your god damn business what the hell is wrong with me!" He shouted. He knew he was taking a huge chance with this monster of a guy, but he had to prove that he wasn't just some pathetic abused kid that had stumbled off the streets. Although wasn't that the truth.

For about a second Bobby paused, looking genuinely shocked, but he recovered quickly.

"Firstly, you are standing in my house, wearing my brother's clothes. Secondly, you ran away from the hospital that my Mother took you to, and from my other brother, that covered for you while you were getting chased down by a cop. Technically, right this moment I could be harbouring a dangerous fugitive, which could get my ass thrown back in jail. So I think that maybe, just maybe it is my business what the hell is wrong with you." Bobby finished sarcastically.

Jack rolled his eyes, and flicked his hair out of his face, man this guy liked to hear his own voice.

"It's not like I'm here voluntarily." Jack retorted, watching in anticipation as Bobby rolled his eyes in return and sighed.

"Whatever… Jack." Bobby sneered, adding emphasis on his name. "Ma has dinner ready, get your ass off the stairs and come get some food."

Jack groaned inwardly, god Bobby was making this hard. His stomach was so empty he felt utterly deflated, but he couldn't eat dinner with these people, they knew what he had done! Bobby calling him by his real name instead of Ryan was proof of that.

"No I'm tired I'm going to bed." Jack stated, ignoring the knowing look that Bobby gave him.

"What kind of fairy goes to bed at 7:00?" He asked with a wicked grin.

Nearly 10 minutes later, Jack was lying flat on his back in a comfortable bed, trying to ignore his protesting stomach and fight off the inevitability of sleep.

It would be so easy to slip out the tiny window of this cramped room, but Jack figured that he'd wait until everyone had gone to sleep so he could steal some food. His habit for stealing was usually what got him in trouble at foster homes.

After awhile, Jack rested his eyes shut, just to give them a break until everyone was asleep.

He wrapped his arms around his waist tightly, as thoughts of the look on Mr. Parade's face began to surface on his mind. At first it had registered shock, but as Jack continued screaming, a sickening grin began to slide onto his foster father's face. Jack couldn't do anything but stand there shaking and screaming violently, trying to block out his shouts by covering his ears. The slick black pistol slid from Jack's quivering fingers and fell onto the greasy carpet. The sound of the gun shot Jack had just fired echoed through the stuffy house and in the murky air. Fuck. What had he done?

"Jack." Mr. Parades spoke softly, still sporting that twisted grin. "You just shot my wife."

-To be continued

-pen