"Get your ass up!"

Jack felt sick, there was a painful throbbing throughout his whole body and his head was pounding something vicious. He curled into himself more, wrapping weak arms around his broken body.

"Did you hear me boy! I said get your ass up!"

More pain, so much more. He could feel his rib crack and suddenly it became very hard to breath. Coughing, deep coughing. Struggling, harsh struggling, struggling for one more breath. Blood, he could taste it. Jack wasn't foreign to the taste of blood. His nose had been broken enough times, teeth biting into dry lips, he'd tasted his fare share of blood but this was different. It tasted different. It tasted serious, tasted like his life. Bitter, disgusting and gross.

Hands wrenched him upwards and he coughed again, blood dribbling down his chin. Gods, it was so painful. The hands let go quickly and his knees allowed him to collapse. His landing jostled his side and he yelled out, a blood curdling scream, cut short by an equally bloody cough. Jack's fingers reached up, gripping his hair and he yanked harshly. Jack didn't stop. He just kept pulling, this pain kept the pain in his side from over powering him.

Hair. His hair. Jack was pulling his hair out. Curled locks stuck, twisted around his fingers and he reached up for more. Bloody finger tips. His scalp was bleeding. Jack was bleeding everywhere.

"Jesus Christ." His father whispered.

Jesus Christ? Jack wanted to laugh. He wanted to belt out a loud chorus from his chest and he did just that. Jack laughed and tears poured down his face. Laughing, it had never felt so good. Never had hurt so much either. He was in ecstasy. Where the fuck was this God? He definitely wasn't with Jack at this moment. Where was his Guardian Angel? Jack felt like he was tearing apart and it had never felt so good.

Sirens. Loud sirens. They were filling his head, the sound bouncing around his brain. Was there a cop near by? Was that an ambulance? Heavy footfalls echoed in his ears. Jack continued to laugh. Jack continued to die. It was just his luck to hear false hope. Jack was barely aware.

Beep.

Beeeep.

Beeeeeep.

Jack groaned loudly, flinging his arm up over his eyes. The lights in his house were brighter than he remembered. He tried to take a beep breath and choked, coughing painfully. Hands quickly came up and tugged at the tube between his lips. Panic, frenzied panic. What was this? Something was lodged into his throat and he coughed again. The beeping sound became more wild and his eyes darted to the machine. It looked like a heart monitor. Jack's eyes swiveled forward as the door opened to reveal a nurse. She quick walked to his side, hushing him and losing his grip on the tube in his throat.

"Jack, dear, calm down please," She said kindly, "Can you do that for me? Please?"

Jack let his hands drop down and he nodded slightly.

"Good Jack," She said, checking his vitals, "Are you feeling okay? Just nod for me honey."

Jack just started at her. He had so many questions. Where was he? How'd he get here? What was wrong with him? He continued to stare quietly at her and she looked down at him, smiling.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions." She voiced, reading his mind.

"Well you're in the Hospital, I'm sure you've realized that," Jack nodded slowly, "Good, good. Do you remember what happened to you?"

Jack shook his head, it had been his father but he didn't know details. The nurse 'tsked' and sat herself in the chair next to his bed when she was sure everything was okay. Her eyes held a pity that Jack had seen many times but they also looked caring, gentle.

"Well honey, you were pretty bad when the ambulance brought you in. You had a broken rib, which punctured your left lung and a lot of internal bleeding. We also noticed many other fractures and breaks, many in different healing processes. Now, your father told us you have a knack for getting into fights and that you came home like this. Is that true?"

Jack remained still. His father had almost killed him! Jack's hate for the man slowly began to consume him and as the rage built up the urge to laugh came back. Before the nurse could react Jack reached up and yanked the tubing from his throat. The coppery taste of blood settled on his tongue and he started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. So much pain.

The nurse jumped to her feet and pressed a button behind the bed for help. She laid her hands against the sides of his head and tried to calm him. She whispered comforting words as Jack continued to laugh. It was low at first but slowly it raised in volume. The nurse looked down feebly at the young boy, tears threatened to prickle in her eyes.

"Jack, honey," She started, "Who did this to you?"

Her firm tone caught his attention and his loud laughing died to light, breathy chuckles.

"My father!" He spat and started laughing again.

The nurse smoothed his hair as another entered the room. She took one look at the two and exited quickly, coming back in under 2 minutes with a needle in hand. She walked closer, giving a questioning look before injecting the medicine into the IV drip beside Jack's bed. She gave a small smile to the first nurse before making her way from the room. Jack's laughter began to quell. Shaky breaths was all he managed and the nurse sighed.

"What're you doin' to meh?" Jack asked sluggishly.

"Giving you something to calm you down honey. Don't worry, you'll be fine shortly. It's going to all be okay." She whispered soothingly.

Jack wanted to believe her, he really did. She seemed like a very nice person, kind and gentle. He wanted to take her words to heart but he just couldn't find it in himself to believe her.

"So you're saying that your father did this to you? He's the one who beat you?" Jack nodded his head.

The man speaking to him was elderly, mustache and beard the perfect salt and pepper mix. His eyes were light blue and Jack briefly pictured himself as an old man. He wondered if he would have such a graceful appearance. The man sighed heavily and folded ancient fingers in his lap. That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Son, I would love to believe you, honest I would but even your mother backed up your fathers story." Jack flinched, frown spreading across his lips.

"My mo-ther?" He grunted, how dare that bitch.

Jack had never done a thing wrong to his mother. He defended her the best he could, always. Hell he had even beat a boy within an inch of his death to defend her honor. How could she turn on him? Her only son? Was that woman such a coward? Could she not see that with his physical evidence and her verbal confirmation that they could put his father behind bars? That they would be safe.

"Yes. You're mother." The man paused, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Jack went to pull his hair in frustration only to growl. He had forgotten he'd been restrained. White cuffs hung tightly to his wrists and he thrashed his legs in anger. The elderly man grimaced, shoving his seat back and stood up. Jack stopped his struggle and locked his dark eyes with light ones. He could tell the man was uncomfortable now, eyes glancing at the door every few seconds.

"Jack. I am here to inform you that due to certain instance's you're parent's have decided to send you to psychiatric hospital."

Silence. Absolute silence. Jack didn't dare breath. Psychiatric Hospital? The man had to be kidding. He had entered the hospital room, seemingly cheery and questioned him about his attack and it still didn't matter? Not even a bit? This parent's had already made their minds up, so why did this man patronize him?

"They think you're crazy. They don't believe you." The little voice inside of him whispered.

"It's only for a week. Don't look so sad Jack. You will check out clear. Nothing to worry about..."