"You're hurt."
He straightened quickly, ignoring the twinge in his side. James' last punch had gotten him right on the ribs, and added to his many other bruises, the area had not enjoyed his dash through the alleys. That was all.
"I'm fine." They started walking as he pulled the loaf of bread from his shirt, ignoring his growling stomach. He should probably give it back, he decided, since they were giving him a home, and that might make a good distraction. "Here. The baker left this out for you, didn't he?"
She nodded a yes but refused the bread. "He gives us everything he can't sell, and someone helps around the shop a couple-a times a month as payment. Eat it before your stomach climbs its way up your esophagus."
Jackson released the laugh that Jimmy turned into a grin to spare his ribs. "Your stomach can't climb your esophagus."
"Sure sounds like it will." She eyed him, as if watching for his stomach to appear. "You gonna tell us why you flinched getting up, or do we need to take you to Doctor Watson?"
The name brought his curiosity to mind, and he ignored her question in favor of his own.
"Is he the same man as in those stories?"
"In the Strand?" Jackson asked. "Yes. Mr. Holmes started the Irregulars years ago to give street kids a job better than pickpocketing. Some of us work for them, some of us have other jobs, and all the oldest ones take care of the littles. We have close to four dozen kids in our courtyard right now."
"Four dozen?!" He had never been the greatest at figures, but even he knew a dozen meant twelve unless referring to a bakery.
"Four dozen," Jackson confirmed as they paused at the shop so Doris could retrieve the other loaves. "About a dozen are under seven."
Their courtyard was more crowded than he had expected. It might be nice to have so many others nearby. He swallowed another bite of the rapidly disappearing bread.
"How far away is it?"
"Not far," Jackson replied after they crossed a main street, "but there's somewhere I want to go first. Doris, were you in a hurry?"
"Nope," she replied, popping the p, "'n you know better than to leave me behind. I know you can smell it, too."
Jackson laughed but made no answer, leading them down the street, and when Jimmy could smell nothing but the normal London air, he finally voiced a question.
"Smell what?"
"Mrs.—"
"You'll see," Jackson cut in, glaring at his sister. Her eyes widened, and she shut her mouth with a click. "It's good, though," he added quickly. "Just better as a surprise."
Jimmy followed somewhat cautiously, and Jackson led them around the corner and up the next street, eventually stopping to knock on a door. Silence answered him for a long moment.
"I'm coming," a lady's voice groused when Jackson finally knocked again. "I swear you children move faster every time." The door swung open, and a lady about his mum's age tried to scowl around an amused smile. "You're late."
"Not possible," Doris shot back with her own wide grin. "They only finished baking a few minutes ago. Can we buy some sugar biscuits?"
The lady laughed, but her gaze landed on Jimmy before she could answer. "Hello, dearie," she said instead of whatever quip she had been about to voice. "I don't believe I've seen you before."
"This is Jimmy, Mrs. Hudson," Jackson said when Jimmy edged behind the older boy. "He just joined us today."
Jimmy said nothing, but she did not seem to mind.
"It's good to meet you, Jimmy." She waved them inside. "Yes, you can buy some biscuits. You know the rate. Two each."
Doris whooped and trotted down the hall, but when she found herself alone, she paused and looked at where Jimmy kept Jackson between him and Mrs. Hudson.
"Aren't you comin', Jimmy?" she asked, walking back towards them. "It's sugar biscuits!"
"Go on, dearie," Mrs. Hudson said with a weak smile. "I'll not hurt you. I won't even be back in the room for a few minutes. I was on my way upstairs when you all knocked."
Jackson moved slowly toward the kitchen, and Jimmy kept a cautious eye on Mrs. Hudson as he followed. The lady reminded him of his mother, but he would take no chances. She climbed the stairs as he followed Jackson down the hall.
"Woah!" Doris' voice came from ahead of them. "That's a big batch!"
Jackson laughed, and Jimmy entered the kitchen to find a large array of sugar biscuits cooling on one counter. Doris quickly grabbed two and took a large bite.
"Oh, they're soft! Yum!"
Jimmy waited near the door, deciding the others must have already paid her. He could wait for them to finish, and he ate a bite of the half a loaf of bread remaining when his stomach growled again.
"Don't you want yours, Jimmy?" Jackson asked when he noticed.
He shrugged. Of course he wanted some. They smelled amazing, but he had no way to pay for them.
"No money," he answered shortly.
"You don't need money." Doris plopped two into his hand. "Mrs. Hudson's rate is usually 'eight under seven,' but she also has 'two for new.' The first time a new arrival comes for sugar biscuits, they and whoever they're with get two each."
He glanced between them and the sweets in his hand. "Really?"
"Really," Jackson replied, grinning at his surprise as footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Take a seat at the table. Mrs. Hudson might even let us have some milk to go with them."
"I think I have some," her voice came from the hall.
"These are delicious," Doris declared as the lady crossed the room toward the icebox. She bit into her second, but Jimmy ignored Mrs. Hudson's reply to focus on the man in the doorway.
"Hello, son," a somewhat familiar voice said. "I am glad you found the Irregulars so quickly."
"You already know Doctor Watson?" Doris asked, second biscuit more than half gone.
Jimmy made no answer, trying to remember where he had heard that voice before. It had been recently. Had the incident had something to do with James?
No, he decided, but that did not mean he could trust the man. He readjusted in his seat, prepared to run if needed. The door to the alley was not far behind him. He could reach that before either adult could cross the room no matter how much his chest hurt.
"We met this morning," Doctor Watson answered her, still watching Jimmy, "though a bit indirectly. I was behind him at the water pump."
That was it! His was the voice that had told him to slow down and breathe. Jimmy relaxed slightly, and the doctor released a small smile at the recognition.
"I was planning to tell the others to watch for you," Doctor Watson continued. "I should have known Jackson and Doris would find you soon enough."
"He's sneaky," Doris replied, the grin on her face announcing this was a good thing. "He claimed a loaf of bread from our bin, and Little Jones never noticed him!"
"That is difficult to do," the doctor agreed, slowly moving closer.
Jimmy ignored them to focus on his biscuits. They were almost as good as his mother's had been, and he dipped the next bite in the half a glass of milk Mrs. Hudson put on the table as Doctor Watson took a seat nearby, still studying him.
"How did you break your ribs?" the doctor asked quietly.
Jimmy made no answer, trying not to flinch when the doctor's hand moved just right. There was no need to acknowledge the ache running through his chest and side. It would heal. It had before.
"Jimmy?" He glanced up as Doris sat on his other side. "It's alright, Jimmy. Doctor Watson just wants to help."
The man nodded. "I can make sure the bones are in the right place and maybe wrap your chest to provide some support. It might keep them from hurting so much, and it will almost certainly help them heal faster."
He hesitated, watching. Why would the doctor want to do that? He had to know Jimmy had no money. Jimmy was just some stranger, a random street kid no matter that Jackson and Doris had claimed him as brother due to his name. Could this be a trap? A way to get Jimmy to let his guard down so Doctor Watson could hurt him, too? James had done something similar more than once, especially back at the beginning, when Jimmy still thought James loved him.
Lines appeared around the doctor's eyes. "I am nothing like him, Jimmy. I swear. I only want to help."
He readjusted in his chair, again positioning his feet so he could be up and out the door in an instant, but he slowly nodded agreement. It would be nice for the injury not to hurt so much—if the doctor was telling the truth, anyway.
He removed his shirt at the doctor's request, and he distantly wondered what the deepening lines around the adult's eyes meant as gentle fingers traced the area where James had punched him. He had no time to ask, however, as pain flared. The hands retreated almost before Jimmy flinched.
"You have one fractured rib and one broken rib," Doctor Watson said. "The broken rib is slightly out of place, which is why that spot is so uncomfortable. It would be better to put it back where it is supposed to be. It will heal faster that way, and you are less likely to damage a lung."
"Will it hurt?"
"Yes," he answered immediately. "It will hurt quite a bit while I adjust the bone, but once I am done, it will hurt much less than it does now. If I do not do anything, there is a chance you will break the bone further, making it take longer to heal at best and puncturing something internally at worst. Will you let me treat it?"
Jimmy stared for a moment, surprised at the seeming choice. "What happens if I say no?" he asked warily.
The lines appeared around the doctor's eyes again. "Nothing. I will not force you, Jimmy, but you will heal much faster if you let me stabilize that break."
That made no sense. Doctor Watson was the adult. He obviously wanted Jimmy to agree, and Jimmy had expected some dire threat to make him comply. That was what James had always done. Did all men not threaten and bully to get what they wanted?
Apparently not, as Doctor Watson simply watched, waiting for him to decide. It was that patience that gave him the courage to agree.
"You are very brave," the doctor told him, the words obviously a compliment. "I need you lying on your back. The floor would probably be easiest."
The fracture twinged as it always did when he moved, but Doctor Watson seemed surprised when Jimmy laid flat without help. He said nothing, however, positioning himself at Jimmy's side.
"Jackson is going to hold your shoulders down," he said as the older boy knelt. "This will hurt, but it should not take me more than a couple of seconds to reduce the fracture. The more you relax, the faster it will be. Ready?"
He took as deep a breath as he could, then nodded, and Jackson's hands pressed on his shoulders as pain spiked in his chest.
His vision went red, narrowing his focus to a tiny spot on the ceiling. That hurt! Oh, that hurt. Worse than all the punches James had ever thrown, it hurt. Stop! Make it stop!
It did not stop, and he finally did what he had learned to do when James caught him and refused to let him free. He retreated. Pain faded from his awareness, as did the rest of the world.
"Jimmy? Jimmy, can you hear me?"
The words filtered faintly to his ears, and Doctor Watson leaned over him, pulling his thoughts back to the present. It was over already?
"Ah, there you are," the doctor said when Jimmy's gaze met his. "How do you feel?"
He frowned, carefully inventorying the many injuries James had rendered. How did he feel about what?
His ribs, he remembered. Doctor Watson was asking about his ribs, and he focused there, cautiously taking a deep breath. They hurt, but nothing like they had before.
"Good," was the answer when he said as much. The doctor gave him a hand upright as he continued, "Take it easy for a while. The more you avoid twisting and using those muscles, the faster it will heal. It should heal completely in about six weeks."
"Here," Jackson said before Jimmy could do more than nod, still amazed at the lack of pain in his side. A biscuit landed firmly in his palm. "You didn't even grunt. That deserves another sugar biscuit."
The doctor did not turn away quickly enough to hide his expression. He knew why Jimmy had not made a sound, but he made no comment.
"Is he good to walk to our courtyard?" Doris asked.
"Of course," Doctor Watson replied, and a slight smile appeared as he added, "provided you do not challenge him to a race."
Doris huffed. "He'd probably beat me now. He nearly lost me earlier, when I spotted him outside the bakery. You'll be one of our fastest runners when those ribs heal," she informed Jimmy. "I bet Charlie will put you to work as part of a relay system. He was complaining the other day about not having enough runners."
He merely shrugged. That was sometime in the future—not today or even this week. He could deal with that when it happened.
They stayed for only a few more minutes as Mrs. Hudson wrapped most of the finished biscuits for them to take back, and Jackson soon led the way down the street.
"Where's the courtyard?" Jimmy asked eventually.
"Several blocks east," Doris answered, skipping along beside him. "The entrance is in a hidden alley, and we covered it with a bunch of debris so no one could find it."
Several blocks east? From where they were, several blocks east put their home in…
"You live in the East End?"
"Sure do," she replied flippantly, grinning a bit at his surprise. "Safest place around. Even many of the cruelest criminals won't wander the East End, and very rarely does anyone even come close to finding us. We're hidin' in plain sight, as Doctor Watson would say."
He made no answer, not sure what he thought of that.
"It's not as bad as it sounds," Jackson told him. "Our courtyard is in one of the better areas, butted against a jewelry shop known to other shops and many respectable clients, including Mr. Holmes and the doctor, and only a handful of people outside the Irregulars know where it is."
"But what about coming and going?"
Doris waved him off. "With how sneaky you are, there's no way you can be worried about that?"
He smiled. "No, I guess not."
"You're just wary about learning your way around," she declared. "Don't be. Twins stick together, don't they? We've lived here as long as I can remember. I'll teach you the best paths in no time."
"You were serious about that?"
"'Course I was!" She stopped skipping to move closer to him. "We share the same birthday and last name. We're twins! I've always wanted another brother closer to my age. Jackson's always at work now. He never gets to have any fun."
Jackson harrumphed. "We'll see about that, pest. You know I get tomorrow off."
"Yeah, for the first time in a month! You work too much."
Jackson fired back a response, and brother and sister dissolved into a bickering session involving far too many grins and laughs to be serious. Hesitant about joining quite yet, Jimmy simply listened—until Doris fired a grinning reply that he had to refute.
"You are not getting me on a roof!"
Doris merely huffed and included him in their bickering, and the walk passed quickly. If this was what it was like to have siblings, Jimmy thought, he might rather enjoy it. This was much better than being alone.
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