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“I don’ care what ya wanna do Racer, yer sick, so youse gotta stay home,” Jack said, pushing Race back onto the pillow.
The kid had woken up feeling under the weather two days ago, but in typical Race fashion, he had elected to ignore that and continue selling. So of course now, he was sporting a high fever, and too delirious to know which way was up.
“Bu’ Jackie,” Race protested weakly, trying to push himself back up again.
“No, lie down, an’ get some rest,” Jack said sternly. He’d sent the other kids out of the room when he had found out Race was sick, hoping to avoid anyone else catching whatever this was. This time of the year was the worst, the freezing cold meaning kids got sick constantly. It was hard to watch, as Jack knew they wouldn’t be able to afford a doctor if things got worse.
“Iss Christmas,” Race frowned, but he lay back anyway, too weak and tired to keep protesting.
“I know Racer,” Jack said, running his fingers through the younger’s hair, in the hopes that it would ease him off to sleep.
Race went quiet a few minutes later, his breathing evening out. Jack sighed, slowly getting up off of the bed and making his way downstairs. He was worried, so worried, but there was nothing he could do. Race was strong, and he would fight whatever this was, even if it meant Christmas wasn’t going to be as exciting for him this year.
Specs came over to Jack immediately once he was outside, “how is he?” he asked. Specs had offered to stay behind, and make sure the kid was okay, but Jack had shut that idea down quickly, appearing to have another plan.
“His fever’s all high,” Jack said with a frown, “but he’ll be okay.”
Specs nodded, “are ya sure I shouldn’t stay with ‘im?” he checked. Seeing Jack shake his head, Specs went off looking for one of the littles, wanting to make sure all of them had someone to sell with.
Jack took in a deep breath, trying to control his worries, then set off to wrangle his troops. It felt odd without his second beside him, but there was still a whole load of children to look after, so Jack continued anyway.
*
Spot was surprised to see the ginger kid from Manhattan outside the distribution gates that morning. His first thought was one of annoyance, the Manhattan kids usually knew better than to come into Brooklyn, but then he realised that the kid must have run here, so was looking for him. That meant something was wrong with Race.
“What d’ya need ‘hattan?” Spot asked, glaring at the red head.
Albert took a deep breath, he was exhausted from having to run all the way, “Merry Christmas to youse too,” he quipped, “Race is sick.”
“An’ what of it?” Spot asked, standing right in front of Albert. Sure he was a few inches shorter, but that hadn’t stopped him from being intimidating.
“‘E’s got a fever, Jack’s all worried about ‘im,” Albert said, surprised by Spot’s reaction. From what Race had told him, he and Spot were really close, so Albert had expected more worry from him.
“Is someone watchin’ im?” Spot was trying to keep composure, despite wanting to join Albert in running. He wanted to be with Race, wanted to make sure he was okay.
“I’m goin’ back, ya more than welcome ta come with,” Albert said, turning away. He wasn’t going to waste time he could be spending with Race, not if Spot wasn’t coming. He’d only come because Race had been asking for Spot, that being his main reason for being desperate to get up this morning.
“Wait up ‘hattan,” Spot said with a small sigh, “let me talk ta Hotshot, then I’ll be wif ya.”
It didn’t take long, Spot telling her she was in charge till he got back, then he made his way over the bridge with Manhattan.
“Youse knows youse can talk ta me right,” Albert said once they were over the bridge, the first few minutes had been agonisingly silent, and Albert didn’t want that to continue for the rest of the walk.
Spot didn’t say anything, he just glared at Albert, hoping the kid would get the picture.
“Ya ain’t that intimidatin’ ya know. I weren’t suggestin’ small talk, we’s could talk ‘bout Racer, since we’s got tha’ in common,” Albert said, fiddling with his sleeve. He knew if they continued in silence the entire journey he would end up picking at his fingers, then Race would tell him off, despite the elder’s delirium.
“What about ‘im?”
“Well youse obviously good friends wif ‘im, d’ya know ‘e talks about ya all the time?” Albert asked, staring ahead at the snow covered path. It always got worse this time of year, and he could not understand why Race walked this everyday. That was probably why he’d got himself sick.
“I didn’t know tha’,” Spot mumbled, not really sure how to respond to that, “do ya know, ya know, about me an’ him?”
Albert let out a small laugh, “‘e’s my best friend Conlon, ‘e tells me ev’rythin’.”
“An’ youse okay with tha’?”
There was a moment where Spot let down his usual barriers, showing fear, even if it was just for a moment.
“I don’ get why anyone would care, I’s gots someone I like too,” Albert said, kicking the snow up in front of him.
“Okay,” Spot paused, “well good, do ya think ‘e’ll need a doctor?”
There was concern, that was the first thing Albert noticed, showing him the King of Brooklyn did have feelings, even though he pretended not to.
“Iss justa fever at the moment, probably cause ‘e’s exhausted himself, walkin’ around so much. He gets sick when ‘e does too much, not that ‘e’d ever admit tha’,” Albert said, hoping to ease a little of Spot’s concern.
Spot nodded, “he’s an idiot,” he said, and Albert couldn’t help but agree.
*
Race was stumbling back from the bathroom when they arrived at the lodgings, the wall being the only thing keeping him upright. He was leaning heavily on it, staring at the floor as he shuffled along.
“What the hell Racer, why is youse out of bed?” Albert asked, running quickly over to the elder and supporting him. They were almost there, when Race turned around, looking confused as he noticed Spot.
“Spottie, why’re youse ‘ere?” Race asked in a small voice, shivering slightly thanks to his fever. Despite feeling like shit, Race was quite excited to see Spot, having thought he would miss him this Christmas.
“Heard ya were sick ‘n’ wanted ta make sure youse was okay,” Spot answered, helping to lead the near delirious kid over to his bunk.
Race was remarkably compliant for Spot, and only threw a little fit when Spot tried to walk away from him.
“Stay ‘ere Spottie,” he complained, lamely reaching his arm out for the elder. He didn’t want to be alone, and since it was so cold Race hoped Spot would warm him up a bit.
“I’ll be downstairs, look after him,” Albert said, patting Spot on the arm in a threatening manner. He then made his way downstairs, fiddling around with a pack of cards which was on the table. It was going to be a long few hours, but Jack had promised to be back at lunch, so he could look forward to that.
Spot was almost impressed as Albert left, but his attention was drawn to Race who was curled up in a ball and shivering violently. He placed a hand on the younger's forehead, frowning when he felt how warm he was. “Hey Racer,” Spot said in a small voice, as he got himself reasonably comfortable on the bed.
“I don’ feel good Spottie,” Race mumbled, curling himself up against Spot’s chest.
“Yeah, I know, think ya can tell me what’s wrong?” Spot asked, running his fingers through Race’s curls.
“Iss cold, an’ I’s been sick,” Race said, feeling incredulously tired as Spot played with his hair. That was one of Race’s favourite things, which had helped ease many headaches, and helped him sleep on many a bad night.
Spot nodded, trying not to worry himself too much, “why don’ we have a little rest, an’ hopefully youse ‘ll feel better for tha’.”
Race hummed into Spot’s chest, eyes already closed as his breathing began to even out. This was better than going out selling Race thought, but then again, not much could beat cuddling with Spot.
“Merry Christmas Racer,” Spot smiled, as he too settled down to sleep.
“Merry Christmas Spottie.”
They fell asleep not long after, Race falling into a restless sleep, but a sleep nonetheless. And that was how Jack and Albert found them a few hours later. Race still looked pretty awful, deathly pale with flushed cheeks, but he was sleeping at least.
“Let’s leave them, you should go an’ get some lunch Al,” Jack said, clapping the kid on the back.
Albert nodded, then laughed at the sight, “‘e was tryna pretend like he didn’t care when I’s found ‘im.”
Jack smiled, “that sounds like Conlon,” he laughed, turning around to leave.
A pair of eyes opened, “I will kill you both,” Spot threatened, causing both Jack and Albert to sprint out of the room, laughing loudly. Making sure Race was still okay, Spot allowed himself to go back to sleep. This wasn’t the Christmas he had expected to have, but spending the day cuddling his boyfriend was a pretty good day.