Chapter Text
"And your partner, what's his name—David? I understand that he has a family. What do you think The Refuge would do to him? It would be you who'd put him there." Pulitzer said.
Nearly everything after that, what he said was blurred and jumbled. A minute ago, Jack was smirking-looking all high and mighty-at Pulitzer. Normally, he'd conjure up some clever insult in that brain of his, barely taking in what the old man was saying (on purpose). Now, everything finally hit him.
He couldn't keep running away—keep hiding in the lodging house with only his fake name, pretend that everything was going well. Pretend that he could keep it going. Pretend that being in The Refuge didn't scare the hell out of him. He knew how kids were treated there: starved, beaten, treated as slaves for no good reason. He could escape again; that wasn't a problem. He could keep going on with that.
By the time he was done zoning out, the only thing he took in from what Pulitzer had said was that he'd have to stay in The Refuge and think about it.
"Give your answer in the morning." He murmured, remembering the offer he gave him earlier, the one with a ticket to Santa Fe and some money. As he was contemplating about it, he exited the enormous mahogany entrance that the building had.
Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice call out to him: David's, encouraging him to leave. Out of instinct, he slid down the marble stair rails—something he knew all too well from escaping the bulls and Snyder—and ran to catch up his companion.
Just as they were approaching an alleyway, he realized something. He couldn't keep going on with david either. He couldn't keep going with the things they were both in and what they both were.
He knew about the fact that he had no choice in the offer. He knew that David wouldn’t back down that easily. He knew that backing down would be his last choice (if he had even considered it, which he probably hadn’t). He knew that he’d to look at him in the eyes with a look of disdain from then on: when he’d find out that he’d back down. Like he was someone weak—a coward.
Truthfully, he wasn’t a coward, just scared . Scared of how easily Snyder and Pulitzer could hurt whoever he loved in a mere matter of days—hell, even hours. Scared of how there was no escaping the position he was in. He made his bed, now he had to lay in it. But that didn’t mean David had to lay in it with him.
David noticed him slowing down, shouting at him softly to go on.
“You shouldn’t have done this Dave, they could put you in jail.”
“I don’t care.” Jack was about to shout at him for that, but swallowed it.
“Come here,” Jack retorted.
Out of sheer desperation (to convince him to back down as well before he could get himself in more trouble), he pushed him against the alleyway’s wall, grabbing at his button up.
“What about your family? What about your family? What happens to them when you go to jail? You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout jail.” He could already see the expression of frustration and confusion etched on David’s face.
“Now—now thanks for what you’ve done, but you get out.” He struggled to get the first word out since he felt some tears brewing because he knew the inevitable fate that was coming for him tomorrow.
“I don’t understand.”
“…I don’t understand either, but just get out!” There was a pregnant pause between them.
David refused to budge, insisting on staying.
Jack didn’t want him to stay any longer, worrying that soon enough—if he didn’t accept Pulitzer’s offer—him and the others would be locked up in the refuge, all because of him. By tomorrow, word would get out of him scabbing.
By tomorrow, Jack would never see the creases around David’s eyes whenever he smiled at him again. By tomorrow, he would’ve been labeled as a scab, a convict, and someone worthy of everything bad that’s happened to him.
By tomorrow, he wouldn’t be able to see the boy he loved loving him anymore.
By tomorrow, all that wouldn’t matter since he’d buy a ticket for Santa Fe as soon as he could, so he wouldn’t feel the guilt gnawing constantly in his chest.
As an apology, for everything that was about to happen, Jack hugged David. He relished in the warmth that he gave him, in contrast to the bitter looks he’d get tomorrow. He held him gently in his arms, muttering “Sorry.” Under his breath.
He wished they could stay this way for longer, just existing. He wished that tomorrow wouldn’t come, mess up the work that they did today, and ruin what they had right now.
To his surprise, David hugged back: resting into the crook of his neck and feeling the texture of his waistcoat. He felt the tip of his fingers wander gently on his back. “Why?” He replied, almost pulling away to look at him in the eyes. Jack stopped him, putting him back into his place, and didn’t respond.
“Nothing.” Jack muttered softly, taking in the scent of David before ultimately pulling away.
“You go. Your parents’ll be worried.” He said, taking in the sight of him for the last time, before he had to retreat back to The prison cell Refuge.
He could still sense the confusion off of the other boy, but he told him good night, instead of pressing any further.
As he watched him walk away, he leaned against the alleyway’s bricked enclosure, preparing for the fate that was paved for him at dawn.