Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

David fell in spite of himself. To a poor boy. And he was not accepted where he was. His mother would likely kick him out, who knows what his father would say. Do. And his sister was always in the back of his mind, doubting him. He felt cornered—no, obligated—to run.
Jack was a poor boy. He had been touched with the talent of art though. A loud voice that even the gods of the industrial world just had to listen. To stare. To worry, even if they wanted to snuff his voice out.
Racetrack had been there when Jackie-Boy had first lost it all. Immediately, in the refuge, he took the boy under his wing. Guided him through every relationship. Told him each step he must take down the road to hell.
Spring, Jack promised. Spring being a better life. Spring being his hands, his love. His kiss, the riot.

Chapter Text

“Don’t come on too strong..” He spoke softly, but Jack had already been approaching the boy studying outside the library, paper carnation in hand. He had seen this happen countless times before. Jack coming off too strong, and scaring the daylights off who he pursues. He sat back against the pillar, expecting the same old thing.

“Come home with me..” Jack spoke with an awkward excited-ness. He was sweating, making it quite difficult to hold up the flower. He was practically shaking in the cool air.

David’s glasses nearly fell off his face, he sat up so fast. He looked at Jack as if he had 2 heads. He saw this pathetic little smile. He looked so small.

“Who are you?” He spoke sharply. He’d been hurt too many times by nervous figures with crafted flowers. And now it was…a boy..?

“The man who’s gonna marry you.” Jack spoke quickly, his shoulders sinking forward in his fearful glee. Marry. You can’t marry a man, Jack. It’s illegal. He smacked himself internally. “I’m Jack.” He corrected.

David watched Jack’s nervous game of internal charades with an ounce of unwilling affection, and looked past the slumped shoulders at Race, who suffered with second-hand embarrassment.

“Is he always like this?”

“Yes.” Race looked David in the eye.

A soft sigh from the logical boy.

“I’m David.” He looked at Jack. He watched him light up at a positive—in relativity—response.

“Your name is like a melody..” Blurted the artist of many forms. “A singer? Is that what you are?” David finally took the time to adjust his glasses and shut his book. He leaned on his fist and watched the cowboy squawk out words like a bird attempting to impress him.

“I also play the lyre!”

“Ohhh..a liar and a player too!” David at first joked, but his gaze drifted to the floor and his voice grew sour. “I’ve met too many men like you..”

Jack nearly dropped the flower and he drooped.

“Oh, no. I’m not like that!”

He offered the craft, making David look at it with gentle thought. He reached out to touch the fake petals.

“He’s not like any man you’ve met,” Racetrack stepped up next to Jack and placed a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him to keep going. “Tell him what you’re workin’ on.”

Jack gently placed the flower in David’s hand, closing the fist around it like a promise, and smiled a more natural smile.

“I’m workin’ on a song.” David looked up at Jack with an ounce of stun. “It isn’t finished yet, but when it’s done, an’ when I sing it,” He seemed to grow more proud with himself. “Spring will come again!”

David looked at Jack with interest and stood up from his seat. He grabbed his book. Often when someone promises spring, they’re a crazy hopeless fool. He might need to run. But Race seemed like a sensible guy, maybe he could hear him out.

“Come again?”

“Spring will come.” Jack offered a soft smile.

Chapter Text

What a lovely time. Jack would think of this moment each note he wrote on the page. But now the page was in his head, the real ones blown away in a wrathful wind.

David was out trying to make money, get food, get something. But in the back of his mind, His sister sang. The woman he could’ve sworn looked at Jack with love, Katherine, sang. The boy Jack refused to leave behind for the life of him, Crutchie, sang.

A doubtful song, a song that was driving David crazy. It had been for months. He was hungry, and tired, and cold. He left his younger brother for this. His family for this. For what? He felt Jack had lied when he promised spring. He hadn’t even noticed as he stepped out onto the street.

Hadn’t heard the yelling of Racetrack. Hadn’t heard the sound of hooves.

It was quite the violent hit. An apple gone flying, the carriage almost tipping before continuing on its path.

And there lie David in the middle of the street. A haze of hunger, exhaustion, and pain sunk over him. The only thing he had been holding that stuck next to him was that damn flower. He couldn’t breathe, his chest heaved desperately against the cool air, stinging his lungs.

Racetrack ran off, supposedly to get help. Gods, he hoped he was getting help.

“Jack!” David cried. Despite the feeling that he had been betrayed, he called out for the artist as he lay there, dying in the street alone. “Jack, please!” Where was Jack now?

He saw his own blood on the road when he tried to turn on his side, and curled into himself.

His cries grew weak. A figure stood over him. He truly felt this figure would offer him peace, and he faded.

Chapter Text

Race sat stunned, watching Jack sing. He’d just witnessed David’s death. How could he say it? Should he say it as if it hadn’t bothered him? The same tone as when they met.

“Racer!”

“Heyyy, the big artiste!” Race spoke as though it hadn’t happened. Oh this is gonna kill him, and a little bit of me. “Ain’t you workin’ on your masterpiece?” He opted to distract himself.

“Where’s David?” Shit.

“Brother, what do you care? You’ll find another muse somewhere.” Was that insensitive? Should he speak with more grief? That sounded like he was blaming Jack.

Jack looked confused. And a little angry.

“Where is he?”

“Why you wanna know?” Deflect your way out of this.

“Wherever he is, I’ll go.” Jack spoke firmly. No hesitation. It really will kill him.

Racetrack sighed and looked down.

“And what if I said he’s down below?” Jack’s face fell.

“Down below..?”

“Down below. Six-feet-under-the-ground below. He called your name before he went,” Racetrack could feel his voice begin to crack at the memory so he readjusted his voice. “But I guess you weren’t listenin’..”

“No..”

“So..” Racetrack spoke in hopes maybe he could back him out of this, or maybe, lead him through it. He looked up at Jack. “Just how far will you go for him?”

“To the end of time. To the end of the earth.” Jack spoke with certainty.

“You got a way?”

“No..”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Then he thought to himself. That industrial hell. Suppose he could go there, bring David back? Race nodded to himself and sat up straight. “‘Course there’s another way but- nah, I shouldn’t say..”

“Another way??” Jack grabbed Race’s shoulders and hoisted him to a standing position. He was desperate.

“Around the back. But that ain’t easy walkin’, Jack! It ain’t for the sensitive soul! So, do you really wanna go??” Race spoke with nervousness.

“With all my heart!” Jack shook him.

“With all your heart..” Race relaxed and looked at him with thought.