Chapter Text
Jack had stolen a loaf of bread. Yes, a loaf of bread. Why? Because one of his little brothers was starving. Headlines hadn’t been so great in the past few days and the snow outside was only getting worse as the New York winter continued. One day he would make it out of this city but for now he only had to survive.
Because of his thievery he was sentenced to 4 months in the Refuge with the Spider. Again. For the 3rd time. It wasn’t like he purposefully looked for trouble, he just had the worst luck when it came to life. Jack’s mother died when he was only 2 and his father was nowhere to be found, leaving one of his older cousins to raise him. And when he turned 7, that said cousin was killed and Jack was alone.
So now Jack was sitting on a beat up mattress, blood staining the white cloth from previous boys and dirt thrown carelessly on top of it. The white of the mattress was bright in comparison to the rotting brown of the cracked walls building up the Refuge and the broken floorboards made of molding wood.
In summary, the place absolutely sucked and Jack was delighted to be back.
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Race was running. He was becoming more out of breath by the minute (his high fever not helping) and his legs were starting to ache. Still, he kept running. In his pocket, coins fell against each other and Race had to use his left hand to keep them from falling out.
What was he running from? The police. You see, the police patrolled the area quite frequently and Race just so happened to steal from some rich man at the same time they were there. Did he regret it? No way. He needed medicine or he might die soon and that man had enough wealth to not miss a couple of dimes.
Yeah, you heard Race correctly. Dimes . Most likely enough to make up a dollar and a half. Solid gold for someone living on the streets like him. Which was exactly why the adrenaline running in Race’s blood was the only thing keeping him running from the cops.
And then he tripped.
Race fell hard onto the stone of the streets. His hands splayed out beneath him so he could catch his fall, but there was no doubt that they both now had scrapes. The ice frosting the street cut into his palm as well, making a rougher surface out of the stone.
The next thing Race knew he was being hoisted up by a large hand grabbing his collar. He could barely breathe and all he could currently see was the blurry shape of a man.
“Off to the Refuge with you, young man.”
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Albert was shivering in the snow. His teeth chattered and his face was turning a pale blue in contrast to his bright red hair. He hugged himself, trying to get any warmth he possibly could. Life was miserable for a kid on the streets. No family or friends to provide any sense of safety.
Today was another day of surviving. Another day of living.
The night would be approaching soon as the glittering ice beneath him was turning orangish. And there was nowhere for Albert to go- as usual. But he might as well try and find one.
Albert got up slowly, his eyes half lidded in exhaustion. His shoes were all worn out and they hurt to walk on the snow and stone but he needed to if he wanted to find any sign of shelter.
Albert moved at a steady pace until he found a few men sitting around a fire. That was quick. But if Albert was at any bit suspicious he didn’t exactly care because he could pass out from hunger right then and there.
“Do- do- do you mind- do you mind if- if I can- stay here?” Albert asked in a small voice.
No one acknowledged him so maybe it was alright. Albert had met adults like that before.
He lowered himself to the ground, grabbing a few newspapers from the corner(that one of the nearby newsies must not have been able to sell) to put between him and the snow. Albert then curled up and closed his eyes tightly, afraid to wake up.
When Albert awoke there were sounds of screaming. His foggy mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening and the boy started to internally freak out.
Scarlet started to stain the snow which could be seen only because of a lamp post nearby. Even so, it was more of a sickish dulled carmine. And then he was pulled up harshly by his left arm.
“What do we have here?” A deep voice muttered.
And then the world went dark.
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Jack stared at the Refuge’s ceiling, water stains painting the dark mix of browns and whites like stars. He tapped his fingers on his chest in a rhythmic pattern. It was like the calm before the storm. It was still too early for Snider to come by.
So that’s why Jack practically ascended when the door to the room slammed open. Other boys sat up quickly on their mattresses, rubbing sleep away with their wrists.
“Lemme go!” A thin boy fought against a guard, his curly dark blonde hair matted. There were various scrapes and cuts across his arms, hands and face but he made no moves indicating he felt any pain because of them.
The guard sighed and threw the boy onto the floor. The boy scowled and from behind that guard came a police officer.
“Found this kid near an illegal striking group. Most likely worked with ‘em” the police officer grunted.
A small kid was in his grasp, his red hair tousled up and his face a pale shade of blue(?). He was very obviously shivering though.
And the officer threw the kid against the previous.
“Snider will be here soon,” the guard sneered and shut the door loudly as he walked off.
The kid with curls moved the red headed kid off of him and sat up.
Other boys started to go back to their nightmare-filled sleep, wanting to escape from their reality as quickly as they could (even if it meant facing plaguing fears).
Except Jack. Jack moved quietly off of his bed to kneel beside the blonde kid.
“The name’s Jack Kelly,” Jack spit on his hand then moved it out to shake the others’.
“Racetrack- but you can call me Race,” Race spit in his own hand and shook Jack’s.
Jack peered behind Race.
“And that kid?”
Race shrugged.
“Is this the candyland I've heard about where we all sing songs around a campfire and eat goodies at night?” Race asked sarcastically.
“If you consider the candyland to be infested with rats instead of sugar then yeah,” Jack responded.
Race looked back at the door then at Jack.
“Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo how do we get out of this hellhole?”