Jack

"Jack, I'm eleven now, ya don't have ta keep walking me to the racetracks every day," Race whines.

Jack wraps his arm around Race's shoulder, "What if I jus' like walkin' with my best friend ev'ry day?" Jack laughs when he sees Race's face scrunched up with reluctant acceptance. "Anyways today's poker day so maybe I just want to see my friend Spotty."

"Pffft," Race spits. "Why's ya got ta keep callin' him that Jack? You guys argue about it every time."

"It's tradition," Jack smiles and pauses a moment to release Race's shoulder to sell a pape to one of his passing regulars.

Well, regular isn't exactly right word now that Jack thinks about it. He's seen the guy more than once, and he always buys a pape when they cross paths, but it's not like Jack sees him every day. Thirteen years old and he still doesn't have a regular selling spot. In this aspect, Race is doing better than him. Just last month, he'd had to comfort Race through the loss of one of his regulars whose daughter had come around to tell Race he'd died. She'd been nice about it and all, telling Race how happy her father was after he'd come home from the races winning on Race's suggested bets and overjoyed to see such a young man interested in racing, but the news had ruined Race. They were just now approaching a sense of normalcy again.

Soon enough, their pause to hawk papes ends as Race runs back over to Jack. "But you know Spot doesn't like ya calling him that."

Jack laughs, "Yeah, and he knows I don't like being called Kelly and here we are."

"You don't care," Race counters. "You's just saying that ta make 'im mad."

Jack shrugs, smirking, Race thinks he's got him figured out, does he? "Maybe, maybe not." Race punches him and he pretends it hurt.

" 'S your funeral. He's the one with all the muscles now. Everyone else in 'hattan's scared of im. Thinks he's tons older than us. And scary."

Jack nods at the truth to Race's statement. He doesn't know if it's on purpose or not, but rumors of Spot's ruthlessness have spread through the newsie boarding houses like the flu in winter. Jack thinks it's mostly an act put on to keep people from challenging Spot's place in line for the throne, but he's yet to change how he acts around Race and him. Nevertheless, Jack's told Race he should stop mentioning his visits with Spot unless he wants Blue to try and put a stop to them.

"Eh, Spotty won't ever hurt me. He knows ya care about me too much," Jack smirks. While he and Spot may be on friendly terms, Race and Spot are definitely closer.

Jack can hear Race hum in response. They've reached the bridge now and they pause just before crossing to hawk a couple more papes.

"Ya know Racer, maybe's you right," Jack cautiously mumbles.

" 'Bout what? I's right about a lot of things ya know," Race beams.

It's Jack's turn to playfully punch Race, "Ya sure is Racer."

"So what do ya think I's right about," Racer questions, teasingly raising his eyebrows.

"Well, ya are eleven, so yous probably okay to get yerself to the racetracks. Pickles let me sell by myself when I was younger than yous-"

"Really Jack!?" Race envelops him in an uncomfortably tight hug, his bag of papes pressed between them. "You's really gonna let me go by myself?"

Jack carefully extricates himself from Race's embrace, "I mean ya don't have ta, I can still come."

Race looks at him, mouth wide is surprise, "I want ta – but I also – it's poker day-"

"Racer, we's been over this. You's got ta talk slow enough that my ears can understand ya," Jack whines. After a moment of silence with Race still staring at him in shock, Jack continues, "I thinks I got what ya was saying though. Yous not abdonin' be Racer, I's plenty old enough ta sell on my own and you is right, I should trust ya to take care of yerself."

Race pulls Jack back in to a hug again and Jack can feel his smile widening.

"Thank ya Jack!" Race smiles up at him, still yet to release him from his hug.

"Aw, whatever Racer," Jack playfully pushes him away, "You's better get goin' before Spotty thinks ya decided not to join 'im today."

Race hesitantly takes a couple of steps away from Jack, down the bridge towards the racetracks, before looking back at Jack, "See ya later Jack!"

"Don't spend all yer earnings playin' poker later!" Jack calls back.

Jack stays at the edge of the bridge and hawks papes as he watches Race make his way away from him, knowing the second he's out of sight the uneasiness and regret will sink in. "Racer's eleven Jackie. You's got ta stop babyin' 'im," he mumbles to himself. Every since he found the kid, he's been entirely too protective of him.

The last thing Jack expects to hear as he continues to sell his papes at the edge of the bridge, it's a surprisingly good selling spot he notes, is a man's voice yelling out his name, "Kelly!" He whips his head around to see two bulls running in his direction, already chasing some poor kid. A poor kid with a blue and green plaid shirt. And a brown newsie cap. Race.

Jack drops the paper in his hand and starts running towards the kid, whose looking at him, eyes wide with fear as he runs closer. "Racer, keep running. Remembers what I told ya!" Jack yells at him as he passes him, before coming to a stop between the bulls and Racer. He sets his feet in to the ground and braces himself for the inevitable, hoping Racer has the sense to keep running.

A small hand wraps around his wrist and pulls him back towards Manhattan. Jack whips around to find Race. The bulls are coming ever closer, too close now for him to have the time to lecture Race and try and convince him to run away on his own, so Jack lets Race pull him away and jumps in to a run himself.

"Racer! What's you thinkin'?" Jack screams at the kid as the round a corner in to an alley.

"I-" Racer starts to argue.

"You wasn't thinkin' Racer! That's what! I was trying to get you away!" Jack interrupts before Race can get a word in. They sprint through another alleyway, no destination in mind, just trying to lose the pounding feet resounding no too far behind them.

"You's don't have ta take care of me!" Race gets out between panting breathes. "You's scared of the place Jack, I don't want ya ta go back!" Jack thinks he can hear sobs in Race's statement, which he begrudgingly admits isn't entirely untrue. Though whether Race's sobs are from his statement or his own fear of the bulls chasing after them, Jack's not sure.

Jack rolls his eyes. "Not yer job Racer. Just like I told Spot and you years ago, I'd rather go back there than see either of yous go in." He leads them down another alleyway. He thinks the bulls' footsteps are getting farther away from them, but he's not sure. His heart pounding in his ears sounds too much like their footsteps.

They zigzag through a couple more alleys in silence, Jack looking over his shoulder every couple seconds to ensure Race is still there. The kid is out of breath and it's obvious, but he hasn't fallen too far behind yet and he's keeping relatively good pace with him.

Until he's not and there's a yelp of pain that sounds disturbingly like Race coming from behind him. Jack skids to a halt and leaps to run in the other direction, towards where Race is struggling under a bull. In one swift movement, Jack punches the bull in the face with one hand and pulls Race out from under him with the other.

"Get out of here Racer," Jack growls, adrenaline pumping through his veins and pain emanating from his knuckles. He'd forgotten how hard people's heads were.

All he gets in response is Racer screaming again, the other bull coming from, you know what? Jack has no idea where the other bull came from, but now he's on top of Race and pulling his wrists forwards so he can – cuffs. As the sight of the cuffs, Jack's heart stops and he runs towards Racer, hoping the other bull loses track of him for a moment.

Race is still screaming nonsense and squirming under the bull's grip when Jack gets hit in the back of the head – hard- and falls to his stomach on the gravel. His vision goes blurry for a moment, but he's able to make out the cuffs snapping on to Race's wrists. His heart stops when the bull continues to soak Racer even when he's defenseless and trying to curl up to protect himself.

"Stop!" Jack yells and tries to push himself up to get to Race. He doesn't have a plan, not at this point, he just needs to get between Race and bulls, take the punches instead.

He gets himself upright, only for the bull going after Race to come over to him instead and punch him in the gut. The blow knocks all the air out of him and he falls to his knees and in the moment he's winded, the bull who knocked him in the head is snapping cuffs around his wrists too.

Jack feels himself begin to panic. He's going back. The Spider's going to have him trapped in his web again. He swore he'd never get taken back there. He swore he'd never let any of his friend get taken there and now Race- Race. Where's Race?

Jack barely notices the soaking the bulls are dishing out on him, his eyes locking on to Race. He's curled up on himself, facing away from Jack, but Jack can see the quick rise and fall of his chest. He's breathing, that's good. The bulls' attention is on him, not Race, that's good. A kick to his own head – not good.

His world disappears for a moment.

The next thing he knows, he's on his knees, one of the bulls' hands painfully holding him up by his hair. He's chuckling darkly and Jack fears what's next.

"Hey Paulie, I think we caught ourselves Snyder's little runaway," one of the bulls, the one holding his hair, chuckles out.

"You know Georgie, I think you's right. Boss is gonna be pretty happy when we shows up with this brat," the other one darkly laughs as he starts stalking over towards Race, throwing the shaking boy over his shoulder.

Jack wants to call out to his friend, assure him everything will be all right. It would be a lie of course, one Racer would easily see through. They've sold papes together, improving the headlines, for years now. Jack allows himself to be pulled the rest of the way to his feet, hissing at the pain it brings to his head. He's unsteady on his feet, but the bull's bruising grip on his arm keeps him upright and moving forwards-closer to the other bull and Race. And a wagon. How did he not notice the wagon?

He holds himself back from calling out when the other bull, Paulie? roughly throws Race in the back. Jack doesn't complain when the one with the grip on his arm manhandles him in to the back. He needs to be awake during the ride to the Refuge. Check in with Race. He can't do that if he talks back and the bull decides to shut him up by knocking him out.

After the door is firmly shut, the sound of the chain locking on the other side sending shivers down his spine, Jack scoots over to Race, putting himself between him and the door. His poor friend is huddled in the corner, head tucked between his knees, shaking like it's the middle of winter and he's without a coat.

"Racer?" He whispers, unsure of how best to approach him in this state.

Race slowly lifts his head, still shaking, and reveals the beginning of a startling bruise across the side of his face. The sight of it causes Jack more pain than any of his own injuries. "Jack," Race practically cries, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. Race reaches his arms out as if to envelop Jack in one of his signature hugs, but the cuffs prevent him from getting that far.

Jack watches as Race looks down at his cuffs, as if recognizing the metal contraption for the first time. His breathing suddenly starts coming faster and he's desperately trying to pulls his wrists apart, like he thinks he's strong enough to break the cuffs by simply pulling them apart. Jack's afraid he's going to hurt his wrists on top of whatever injuries he already has, so he grabs at the younger newsie's hands and holds them still.

"Racer." No response, just more strangled breathes and tears as his friend continues to struggle against his grip and the cuffs. "Racer, stop. You's not gonna break 'em; you's just gonna make your wrists bleed and that really hurts."

Jack doesn't think he's gotten through to the kid until he suddenly stops and slumps in to Jack's side, crying in to his shoulder. Jack keeps holding on to his hands; it's the best he can do in this situation as far as physical comfort goes.

"Jack," Race whispers out beside him. He looks up to Jack with teary eyes, "I's scared."

Jack doesn't have a response to that, he just tightens his grip on Race's hands. What's he supposed to say? That it's not nice? That the Spider is a scary, vengeful man? That he's going to be more hungry and alone than he ever was as a newsie, even though he's going to be surrounded by other guys the Spider has managed to trap? That the pain is only going to get worse?

The carriage is moving now and Jack wonders how long until they reach the Refuge. He's surely going to be separated from Racer once they get there, not that he has it in him to tell Race that, and he's trying to keep himself together until then. He can't give Race any more scared energy to feed off of.

"Hey Racer?" Jack prompts. He doesn't want to say this. He wishes he didn't need to. But he's going to do everything he can to make sure Race stays as safe as possible. Race looks up at him, his normally bright blue eyes red-rimmed and swimming with tears.

"Yeah, Jackie?" Race whispers out, his voice thick from crying. Jack can feel him shaking beside him.

"You knows I's been through here a couple times now, right?" Jack's trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Yeahs. You said twice," Race corrects. Jack sadly smiles that the kid's still got a bit of attitude in him.

"Well both those times I 'scaped before I was s'posed to get out and the guy in charge, Snyder the Spider, ain't gonna be too happy to see me again," Jack starts. He muses that Snyder's probably going to be very happy to have him in his web again.

"Prob'ly not," Race confirms. His tears are slowing now. Jack knows he's going to protest at what he has to say next. He wishes he didn't have to say it.

"So I's gonna ask ya to do something and I need ya to promise that no matter what ya keep to it, understand?" Jack asks. He hates this.

"I ain't promisin' nothin' until I know what it is," Race protests.

"Racer," Jack growls, trying to impart on his friend how serious he is. "You's got ta pretend you's not my friend, my brother, okay –"

"No," Racer interrupts, not letting him finish.

"Race-"

"I said no," Race almost screams and Jack has to shush him. He's sure the bulls up front will be able to hear them if they talk too loud.

"Racer," he sees him about to interrupt again so he gives him as best a stern glare as he can manage right now, "don't interrupt. If Spider knows you's my friend I's 'friad he'll use ya against me and I don't want to see ya get hurt because a me. So if he asks, and yes you's gonna see 'im in his office, you's got ta say ya don't know me." He releases Race's hands to angrily wipe away at his tears, which he's failed at holding in. "And if you gets the chance, you run, and don't stop until you's back at the boarding house. Don't come lookin' for me."

"I don't care!" Race spits out. "I don't want to be without you." He leans more in to Jack's side, hiding his face in Jack's ribs.

This is killing him. The sight of his brother in cuffs. The prospect, no, likelihood of him getting hurt. He'd like nothing more than to keep Race at his side, but he doesn't put it past Snyder to use their bond against him. He's worried Race will end up more hurt by his side than he will if he's alone. He can't allow himself to care if Race is upset with his decision. This is how it has to be. This is how it is going to be.

"Racer, please. You's got ta promise me," Jack whines, the desperation evident in his voice.

"I don't want to," Race mumbles in to his side.

"Race, you's got ta." No response. "Please," he pleads.

The door to the carriage is being thrown open before Jack gets a response out of Race. He'd been so focused on trying to get through to Race that he hadn't even noticed the wagon stopping. He internally curses at himself for allowing his defenses to get so low.

One of the bulls reaches in and returns his grip to Jack's upper arm, practically dragging him out of the wagon. The grip on his arm hurts and Jack makes a weak attempt to pull himself out of it, but the grip just gets impossibly tighter.

"Don't even think about it boy," the man growls at him.

Jack hears the door to wagon slam shut behind him and risks a glance backwards to find Racer in much the same position as him. Even in the brief glance, Jack can see his brother's fear. He's gotten impossibly paler, his eyes wide, and his breathing uneven.

They make it through the front door and in to the dark building. Jack shivers. The bull keeps his grip tight and keeps tugging him through the building, down the hallway to where Jack knows Snyder's office is. The bull raps at the door.

"Not now you idiots I's working," Snyder's voice rings through the door. Jack feels himself tense at the sound of the man's voice.

"Oh boss, I thinks you's gonna want ta take a break for this," the man holding him gleefully replies. Jack could almost throw up. Does this guy not know what happens to kids locked in here? Does he not know what this man he's kissing up to is going to do to him? Does he just not care? Maybe he gets some sick joy out of it too, just like his boss.

Jack can hear feet stomping their way towards the door, can almost feel the vibrations from the stomps through his own feet. Snyder is mumbling something. He's angry. He's worse when he's angry. The door throws itself open and there he is. Snyder glares at the man holding Jack before his gaze turns down to him. A sick smile spreads across his face.

"Is this the one, boss? Did we find your little runaway; your Jack Kelly?" The man asks with excitement. Jack's no longer sure if his arm is shaking with his own fear or with his captor's excitement. He hates the way that he's referred to as Snyder's. Snyder doesn't own him. No one does.

Snyder grabs at Jack's jaw and turns his face from side to side. Jack scowls at him and tries to pull his free hand up to push away Snyder's grip, but the cuffs limit his reach just enough that he can't.

"Oh yes boys. Congratulations. You've brought little Jack Kelly back home," Snyder grins, pleased with work he hasn't even done. "How long has it been, Kelly?"

Jack refuses to answer, to give the man of his nightmares the pleasure of rubbing in how long he's been free. Snyder releases his jaw to slap him across the face - hard.

Jack can hear Race shifting around behind him, likely about to say something, so he unwillingly answers to cover up anything Race might say, "Five years."

Snyder hums. "It looks like you've forgotten the rules already Kelly. Only five years and you've forgotten how to properly speak to your elders." He pauses and looks Jack up and down. "We'll just have to fix that then." He turns away from Jack to look back at the man still holding him, "go ahead and put him in the basement. I'll deal with him personally later."

Jack's stomach turns at the barely-veiled threat as the bull practically drags him down the hallway. He risks a side-glance at Race as he's guided past him; trying to convey everything he said in the wagon through just a look. Race looks terrified and Jack can feel his friend's gaze follow him down the hall.

The bull that's been charged with putting him away unlocks the door to the basement with his free hand before swiftly unlocking Jack's cuffs and pushing him through the door, where Jack tumbles down the stairs. He can hear the door slam shut behind him and enclose him in the dark room he is all too familiar with.

He takes no time in gathering himself and moving to the far corner of the room. He's terrified. For himself. For Race. The morning's events keep playing over and over in his mind and he questions what he could have done differently so that at least Race didn't end up here. He hopes Race has enough sense to do as he's told and disassociate himself from Jack. It hurts Jack to think it, but if that's what keeps Race safer, so be it.