Here's part 2! I went ahead and did a Davey part, no idea if it's any good, but here we are.

Warning: Child Abuse/after effects of abuse talked about in this chapter.

~TH~

"Thank you, sir!" He waved at the man who just bought his last pape. Business had been going good since the strike, not that he had much experience beforehand. Jack had taken Les a couple of streets down, leaving the older Jacobs to enjoy a few minutes in the shade before jumping to the next place he had to be. His younger brother tended to be.... energetic.

David didn't hate being a Newsie. In fact, he kind of enjoyed it. Maybe not as much as Les, but he enjoyed it. The strike had given him immediate acceptance and fame throughout the boroughs. He liked hanging out with the other Newsies even if they still lacked in manners. In fact, he probably spent more time in the Lodging House than at his own house.

It was odd though, here he was working the same job as them, yet he seemed so much better off. His father couldn't work, but he helped where he could and they had savings. His mother and sister took in laundry to help with money. He'd always considered himself poor, but now, he'd almost consider himself well off. At least in comparison to the boys.

His father was about to go back to work. David knew that Les and he would go back to school as soon as that happened. It made him... nervous. He was entering his last year, assuming he could catch up enough to graduate. Even then, it was an opportunity that no other Newsie had.

Les was disappointed. If he could stay a Newsie forever, he would. What his younger brother didn't understand, was the hunger and sickness that went along with being a homeless orphan living on the street. He was good at pretending to be one, Davey doubted his little brother would be very good at actually being one.

"Davey!" The boy in question was running full speed, eyes wide and face pale.

The older brother moved to meet him, "Les? What's wrong," a pause, "where's Jack?"

"I didn't know! Honest Davey, I didn't know! He just jumped on 'im! He pushed me out of the way and he just tackled him and then he told me to run and hen he screamed! I didn't mean to!" The boy was nearly frantic.

Davey knelt down in front of his brother, "Les, slow down and tell me what happened. Someone tackled Jack?"

The boy nodded, "I was trying to sell my last pape. I knew the guy was drunk, but I didn't expect him to attack me!"

"Are you okay?" The older brother could feel the blood drain from his face.

"I'm fine, Jack pushed me out of the way. And he screamed! I ain't never heard-" He sniffled.

Jack was Les's hero, to see him get hurt at all probably crushed him. "Okay, we're going to go find him. He's going to be okay." He was honestly just trying to keep himself from believing otherwise.

Les lead him down a couple of streets before they found him. Jack was running with a look of Panic in his eyes. Davey pushed his younger brother behind him before calling out to him.

"Jack!"

The boy stopped dead in his tracks. "Davey?"

He could barely hear the response. "Hey, hey Jack, look at me." His friend's eyes were wild, darting around frantically. He took a couple of steps forward and was able to see that Jack was finally beginning calming down.

"Are you okay? Les said that you got hurt."

There was no answer. His eyes still looked far away.

"Jack, seriously, are you okay."

When there was still no answer, Davey put his hands on his friend's face, finally drawing his eyes away from wherever they were. "Jack answer me."

"Answer what?" He still looked disoriented. Davey's eyes travelled down Jack's neck. He felt his breath hitch. Wow. Okay. That was a lot of blood. How did he not notice it before?

He finally brought his eyes away from the bloody neck. "Are you okay?" He said it slowly, not sure if Jack was really hearing him.

"'M fine."

"You're bleeding." A lot. And it's your throat. That typically is not fine! His slightly panicked mind was trying to keep calm.

"Barely a scratch."

Davey took the cloth bag he used to carry newspapers and wiped at the cut. It looked to have stopped bleeding, it was just smeared everywhere. "It doesn't seem dangerous," he allowed himself to breathe again, "looks messy though. Gonna have trouble selling papes with all the blood on your neck."

Jack gave a half-smile.

"Let's go back to the Lodging House and get you cleaned up." Davey turned and started walking away, wrapping an arm around his brother. He felt a little better. Jack did seem to be okay, if a little dazed.

There was a sharp gasp behind him.

Davey turned to where his friend was swaying dangerously on his feet. He grabbed his shoulders, steadying him. "Jack, what's wrong? What happened?"

The only response he got was a shuddering breath accompanied by tightly closed eyes. Eventually, there was a quiet, "It's nothin'."

Davey noticed that Jack was clutching his right side. As gently as he could, he pushed the hands away. He noticed immediately that the hands came away red. Concern already creeping in, he looked down and saw blood. A lot of blood. No, like, a lot, a lot of blood. He felt his breath hitch as he looked from the cut to his friend's pale face. "Jack!"

"What? What is it? What's wrong?" Les had remained quiet up until this point, but now he was worried, anxiously hopping from foot to foot, trying to get a look at Jack's side.

Davey let go of Jack, noticing the way that he nearly fell over without the support. "Les, go find Racetrack. Tell him Jack's hurt and to meet us back and the Lodging House."

"No, don-don't bother Race. I'll be fine." Maybe he would have listened if Jack's voice wasn't so quiet, so... weak.

Davey nodded at his little brother, giving him a stern look. Les ran off, looking even more frightened.

"Not that big a deal. Jus' gonna worry 'im for no reason."

Davey couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips. Why did Jack have to pretend to be so strong all the time?! It was infuriating. He looks Jack's arm, wrapping it around his shoulder. "You're bleeding. A lot. It's why you're so dizzy."

"I've had cuts before." The breath hitched after taking a few steps.

Davey didn't respond. 

~N~

The walk back was slow, but relatively quiet. The only sounds were Jack's harsh breathing, an occasional grunt, and Davey reminding him to open his eyes every once in a while. It was scaring him. His friend should be able to keep his eyes open, not barely being conscious as Davey half helped, half dragged his friend home. 

When they reached the Lodging House, he nudged Jack, receiving a hiss in response. "Sorry, but we're here." David looked up and was met with a very panicked Racetrack running towards them. Without a word, the younger Newsie wrapped Jack's arm around himself and started helping him into the building. Davey kept walking, turning to his brother.

"Les, go home. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"But Jack-!"

"If you want to help, you'll go home." He snapped, not wanting to upset his brother, but not being able to deal with him hanging around right now. 

As soon as the boy was gone, Race began to question him. David answered the questions best he could until they got to the bunkroom. 

Racetrack talked a very confused Jack through what was happening. Davey didn't know why he was informing him of every little thing, but he didn't argue. These boys had known each other much longer than he had. He was sure they had their reasons. 

As soon as Jack was on the floor, Davey went to find some clean towels, after searching almost the entire house, he came across a few mostly clean rags and a bowl he filled with water.

When he finally returned to the bunk room, he found race pressing on Jack's side with the cloth bag he used for papes. The ever-present cigar was sitting beside the gambler as he whispered to his friend. Davey knelt down beside him and pulled his hands away. Race's hands were stained red and shaking. No time to worry about that now. 

Pulling at the corner of Jack's shirt, he made a decision. "We gotta get him on his stomach. The cut is closer to his back and it's hard to reach from here." He struggled to control his voice. Now wasn't the time to panic.

Race helped him push Jack over. It made Davey nervous that as soon as the older boy was on his stomach his breathing became more laboured. But this was the only way to get a good look at the cut. 

"We need to get his shirt off." he decided, "We could cut it off, I'm pretty sure this one is ruined anyway."

The gambler looked up at him. "I, uh, ain't so sure that's a good idea."

"What do you mean? We have to-" 

"No." Jack rasped out. "Don-don' like it. Jus' work 'round it."

Davey couldn't believe it. Here Jack was bleeding out all over the floor, and he was worried about them seeing him shirtless? Why was this even an issue? "Jack, we can't we need it off."

"No!" The Newsie's voice was becoming even more ragged. He was hyperventilating. 

"Jack, hey Jack stay with me." Racetrack desperately called out to his friend.  Davey joined in, but it didn't do any good. Eventually, Jack's body slumped forward. David panicked, reaching for his friend's neck. There was still a pulse, he was still breathing, he would be fine. Everything would be fine.

"Davey?!" Race looked like he was about to spiral into panic. 

"He's fine, he's fine, just... unconscious." Mabey he was starting to panic too. He looked up at Race, "We gotta get his shirt off."

The younger boy bit his lip, then sighed. "Fine, we can cut through the shirt, but try to save the vest, it's the only one he's got."

Davey nodded, being worried about a vest seemed trivial to him, but he wasn't going to argue. Together, they were able to get it off.  There wasn't a tear on it and the blood was minimal. The shirt, that was a mess.

"It would probably be easiest if we were able to cut it off." 

Race nodded, pulling a small knife out of his boot. He still looked extremely uncomfortable as he held the blade above the fabric. 

"Here, I can start over here, there's already a cut in the fabric." Racetrack looked relieved to hand over the knife.

Then they heard it, footsteps. Race's eyes widened, "The boys." He stood up in a panic and raced out the door. 

By the time Race returned, the shirt was removed. He smiled at the other Newsie, feeling a moment of triumph, until he caught Racetrack's face. The boy was looking at Jack with a slightly uncomfortable, slightly angry, slightly sad look on his face. That's when Davey looked down.

Scars.

Hundreds of them. Deep cuts that had to have been made with a knife, burns ranging from small circles to wider marks, and then there were the lashes of different sizes. Some deeper than others. Some more recent than others.

"Race," He gasped.

"I know." The answer was void of all emotion as he knelt down in his previous position.

"But some of them, they're new.  They can't be more than a month old."

There was a pause before Race responded in the same monotone voice. "I know."  The gambler looked away, "How's his side?"

David looked down, trying to ignore the scars that wrapped around and disappeared under his friend's stomach. There was still blood seeping out, which was probably bad. The gash looked deep and... "I think," He paused trying to get a closer look, "I think there's glass in there."

"Glass?" Race raised his eyebrows.

He nodded, "Les said the guy had a bottle," He said, realization hitting him. "I bet he didn't use a knife. He just saw the broken glass and improvised. "

Race grunted in acknowledgement, his eyes flickering to Jack's back. Davey couldn't help it either. But he needed to stop. Jack had a serious injury at present, they didn't have time to think about past ones. 

"We need a doctor."

Racetrack laughed, "We ain't gettin' no doctor."

"But Race-"

"We ain't got money for a doctor!" he exclaimed angrily, "The only time we ever get a doctor is when someone has been sick for months and Jack saves enough to get one. We don' jut get one when there's an emergency. It don' work that way!"

Davey wanted to be offended, but he knew better. Race wasn't mad at him for suggesting they get a doctor, he was angry at himself for not being able to afford a doctor. 

"Then I have to get the glass out." 

At that, the anger faded, and the boy paled. "You what?" 

"I have to get the glass out. Hold him down."

The gambler shook his head, "I ain't holdin' him down."

"You have to!" Davey felt the panic rise up. He wasn't prepared for something like this! He didn't actually know what he needed to do!

"He's unconscious anyway! Why do I have ta-?"

"Just do it!" 

Both boys were surprised at the sudden volume of his voice. The outburst must have worked because Race lightly placed his hands on Jack's shoulders.

"Okay," Davey whispered to himself, "Okay, I can do this." He rinsed his hand in the bowl of water before murmuring a quick prayer. Then he pressed his fingers into the long gash reaching for one of the glass shards. 

Jack let out a scream, his back arching. "Racer!" He looked up to see the boy in question with wide eyes, his hands jerked back away from his friend. "You have to hold him down!" 

Race nodded, placing his forearms along Jack's back.

David tried again, this time succeeding in retrieving a small piece of glass. 

"D'you get it?" Race practically shouted. Jack was writhing, trying to move away. The blonde was doing his job in keeping him down, but the older Newsie seemed to go back and forth between screaming and whimpering. Davey was trying desperately to block it out. 

"I got one, there are a few more pieces," he said, trying to grab another shard. There was blood everywhere and the cut was big enough for him to fit two fingers in. This was bad. They needed to hurry, but if they left the glass in it could only cause more problems. Even then, there's no guarantee that they would get it all.

He tried to swallow the bile rising in his throat as he pulled out the last piece. "Got it!" He shouted, all but collapsing backwards. Race moved from where he was pinning Jack, though the Newsie leader seemed to have lapsed back into unconsciousness at some point. 

Only giving himself a moment to catch his breath, he pushed himself back up and used a rag to apply pressure to the now irritated cut. It would be a miracle if it didn't get infected. Race moved over next to him without saying a word and helped. They went through three rags before the bleeding finally slowed down to a less concerning trickle. 

"We need something to keep pressure on it."

Race nodded mutely, leaving for a moment and returning with a belt. 

Davey helped wrap it around Jack's body, trying not to notice how the width matched some of the scars or how some of the lash marks were much smaller. Smaller like a whip.

When the belt had tightly secured a rag in place, Race nodded to the vest. David was slightly concerned that the characteristically loudmouth gambler hadn't spoken since the impromptu surgery. 

They were able to get the vest on Jack and prop him up against a bunk. The older Newsie hadn't stirred since he passed out the second time. 

"Does he have a bed?" Davey knew that Jack normally slept on the roof, but that wasn't really an option at the moment. 

Racetrack nodded, leaning down to pick up his friend's upper half. David reached down, picking up his legs. They made their way to a bunk in the corner, right beside the window leading to the fire escape. Once Jack was settled, Race bit his lip before leaning down and buttoning the vest. 

Davey looked at the mess on the floor and headed over to clean it up. 

"Don't worry about it." Race's voice was quieter than normal, but at least he'd spoken. "Get home to Les. I know he was worried." 

David hesitated a moment but then nodded. He leaned down and picked up the shredded shirt, wiping his hands in it."I'll, uh, see if I have an extra shirt at home." He probably did. If he didn't, his dad did. "I'll be back tomorrow." 

Race nodded. Just as Davey was about to head downstairs a voice stopped him. "Use the fire escape. If you go down the boys won't ever let you leave."

"Thanks," he smiled weakly, ducking out of the window. "And... let me know if... anything happens." He felt sick at what he was implying, but Racetrack only nodded. 

David took a calming breath before finishing his escape out the window and down the fire escape. 

~TH~

I know that there are some repeated scenes and the next chapter will have some too, but this chapter wasn't originally planned and I wanted to explain some things from Race's POV at the beginning and it would be weird to not do it to all chapters.

The next chapter will wrap this up (hopefully).

If you have any questions let me know!

Please comment/kudo/favourite/vote/reblog/COMMENT!

Love you guys ❤️

God bless,
Jamie