Prompt: Taking action. 'The die is cast', supposedly said by Julius Caesar when crossing the Rubicon river. Have a character take a definitive step.
"Down!"
The order carried from somewhere behind him, its owner familiar though he had not expected the proximity, and instinct sent him diving to the floor just before his brother charged past. Much longer legs darted faster than he could hope to match as three heavy paperweights smacked their father's chest hard enough to bruise. Surprise sent the mean old man back a step, allowing Sam to close—and lock—the door. That would keep Father out for the moment.
Not for long though. Heavy fists beat on the wood almost immediately, cursing fit to make him tremble in fear. Tonight was going to hurt. Even more than today had.
"Why'd you do that?"
He could not halt the quiet question, but Sam merely growled something at the door and swung a bag over one shoulder. "We're leaving. Now. Come on."
Leaving? But—where would they get food? Or shelter? They had no money, and Sam could not get a job for at least a few more years. At least here they could nick stuff from the kitchen.
Sam would not promise something he could not deliver, though, and anywhere was better than here. He trotted after his brother despite a worried glance noting the vibrating door.
"Where?"
"South." A thumb jabbed at where Father had started ramming against the wood. "Trust me, Johnny. I started planning this days ago. Move it before he breaks the door down."
Gladly. They had been trying to escape Father's beatings for ages. Only a lack of a place to go—aside from the streets—had kept them there. Sam shoved a smaller bag into Johnny's hands then pushed open the window. A minute later saw them hurrying down the back alley.
"Hurry up, Johnny. You know he'll be on our tail."
Trying. He was trying, but pulling Father's attention from Sam sneaking out yesterday had hurt more than he wanted to let on. Ribs protested his heavy breathing just as loudly as his legs did the running. "Full speed" remained quite a bit slower than it normally would have. He had not hurt this much at the house.
He had also not done more than listen at the house. He certainly had not tried to sprint down dark cobblestones. Every movement sent stabs of pain shooting through his body. He would not be able to run for long.
"How far?"
"Couple streets." Sam abruptly claimed his bag then gripped Johnny's upper arm. The extra support prevented him from stumbling so badly. "What did he do to you?"
"Almost—" A loose cobblestone tilted under his foot, "—caught you missing," he managed. "Distracted him. Wasn't happy."
A low growl announced Sam's thoughts on Johnny taking the punishment meant for him, but the larger hand just moved from his arm to around his side. The next step lifted Johnny off the ground in a side hug. Sam used the opportunity to increase their speed.
And increase Johnny's pain, somewhat. Not enough to matter, though. He wrapped his arms tightly around his brother. Sam would get them somewhere safe, where Father would never think to look, then Johnny could spend a day or two waiting for the pain to ease.
They turned left, then right. The alley opened to a main street, but Sam merely darted through the shadows into the opposite alley. Two more turns skirted the park before a third aimed straight at the only flat on the street with a light on. Firm safety kept Johnny pressed against his brother as Sam knocked far harder than any toff considered polite.
And why had he gone to the back door?
Footsteps sounded inside before he could try to ask, then the door swung open. "What are you—hello. Are you boys alright?"
A tall lady stood in the light of a gas lamp, the slightest frown probably displaying confusion at two strange boys knocking on her back door. Johnny felt Sam glance backwards, then step slightly closer. "Please—Tim said we would be safe here?"
"Of course." The immediate reply also opened the door further. "Are you hurt?"
"He is. Dunno how bad."
"Not." Johnny peeked around his brother as they stopped with their backs to the wall. "No more'n normal. Just hard to run. You're not gonna make us go back, right?"
"Never." The door closed with a soft click, then predictable movements aimed for the counter. "We will never send you back, and if they find you, we will help the Yard put them in jail. You are safe here. I promise. What are your names?"
"I'm Sam, 'n he's Johnny. You're Mrs. Hudson?"
"Yes, dearie. Doctor Watson and Mr. Holmes are upstairs. They will join us in a minute. Are you hungry?"
Always, but Sam had warned him that to say as much would be rude. A quiet "yes'm" answered her instead.
"Then have a seat." A nod referenced the table near one wall. "I have some supper leavings. Cold cuts, too, if that's not enough. You can stay here for the night and go with the Irregulars in the morning."
His stomach growled at the simple mention of food, but he knew better than to leave Sam's side. They would not eat tonight.
"We don't have any money, ma'am."
"You don't need any." A faint smile joined another nod at the table. "If Tim sent you here, that's enough payment for me. Take a seat. I will have a plate ready in a moment."
That was…unexpected. Most adults wanted something, even if not money, but when she continued dishing up something from a wide pan, they slowly crossed the room to choose seats at the table. Footsteps sounded on the stairs as she set the plates in front of them.
"There you are, Doctor. This is Sam and Johnny. Tim sent them to stay with us for the night."
A man slightly shorter than Father paused in the doorway, scanning first Sam, then Johnny as he took an empty chair several feet away. Johnny moved to sit on Sam's other side. Grown-up men were always meaner than grown-up ladies. He would be safer behind his brother.
Though something about that made the Doctor frown, just slightly. "My name is Doctor Watson," he said instead of commenting. "I help Mr. Holmes catch the criminals that want to hurt other people, and sometimes I help the Irregulars with injuries. Are either of you injured?"
Yes, but Johnny kept his eyes on his plate, though side vision continually monitored the adult. At the first sign of the "doctor" moving toward them, he would be up and out the door with Sam right behind him. Better an empty middle than another busted bone.
"I will not hurt you. I swear."
Wait. What?
A glance at Sam found the same confusion currently plaguing him. Why would this "Doctor" promise not to hurt them? Grown-ups always hurt. Especially the men, and Father had always enjoyed their dread at knowing what was coming. Maybe he lied?
"I am serious, Sam, Johnny," the doctor promised again. "I only want to help. Will you let me?"
Help? They shared another glance. Mum had helped, sometimes, but Father had gotten rid of her ages ago. While Sam refused to tell him whether Mum was dead or just gone, she certainly would never come back.
"What do you want?"
Doctor Watson shook his head even before Sam finished speaking. "Just to help. I can treat your injuries so they will heal faster, you can sleep on the settee near the fire, and we can get more food if you are still hungry. One of the Irregulars can come in the morning to show you the courtyard. Home is not supposed to hurt. Ever. You are safe here."
Safety…that did not hurt? He shoved another bite in his mouth and prepared to stand. Such an impossible promise would surely see them running again. Even Mum had not been able to promise that, and the lie meant Sam would use his second plan.
Except Sam visibly relaxed instead. Nobody promised safety without pain! Sam knew that. It had to be a lie.
Confusion turned to amazement when the doctor's request to do a "medical exam" received hesitant permission. Sam should have been hurrying Johnny out the door, not sitting still while Doctor Watson poked and prodded and looked, and yet Sam did nothing to suggest that it hurt. Could this grown-up mean his words after all?
He doubted it. Doctor Watson probably just bided his time, but when Sam let the man finish without doing a sneak attack and run, Johnny slowly settled into his chair. Sam knew everything. If Sam believed this grown-up, then Johnny would too, for now. They could always beat him up and run away later.
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