You Can't Hurt Me

You just wanted me for my MONEY

Jack's hip was starting to hurt from lugging the clean laundry bin around the house, waiting for Race to finish getting ready.

He knew Race was awake because of the stupid bright yellow light shining under the door, but Race had yet to actually come out. Jack tried knocking yet no response. He figured the boy was just getting dressed again with his AirPods Jack told Katherine not to get him, and Katherine promptly ignored him. 

"Teenagers need their ear time Jack, you can't always be yapping his ear off." Jack looked back at the door. Yeah screw her.

"Race! If you don't come out I'm coming in!" He waited.

And waited.

No response.

"That's it!" Jack groaned and slammed open the door. He scanned the room, no one was there.

"Huh?" He stepped forward, his foot making a small splosh on the floor. "The hell...?"

He looked down to see a red pool, now staining the bottom of his blue Costco sneakers. His heart sped up, skipping and dancing about, this time he scanned the floor and in all his glory was Antonio Higgins laying across the floor, unmoving. AirPods in his ears and more importantly, a knife lodged in his chest.

Jack gasped, a horrible choking sound that resided in his lips, falling on his knees and scrambling forward his shaking hands hovered over the boy.

Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. The words repeated themselves in a sickening mantra, over and over again.

He jabbed his fingers towards Racetracks wrist, pushing hard for a pulse.

"The hell?" Spoke a beautiful glorified voice, who was so very alive.

Race yanked his hand away and scrambled up, "what are you doing!"

Jack blubbered for a moment, his lips feeling rubbery in his mouth as the words he wanted to say didn't exist in this moment, blood was pouring down Race's chest, yet he stood there with a confused look at Jack.

Oh God, the boy didn't know.

Jack held his hands up, "Race... there's a... a... don't panic... but... there's a knife... in your chest."

Race just raised his eyebrows and nodded, "yeah I know."

Oh God, the boy did know and was committing suicide. Jack's breath hitched.

"Race, hey, it's okay, we can talk about this, get you help. It's not over, these are temporary feelings." Jack soothed walking forward.

Race shot him a weird look, "uh okay..."

Jack didn't know what else to say, he stalked forward, predator seeking prey, calm and unseen.

Race then grabbed the knife in his chest, and pulled it out.

"No!" Jack screamed. Moving forward, trying to stop him.

However, in his hand came half a knife, surrounded by rubber and blood. Where the knife had been, was a perfectly untouched chest and a bit of glue. Jack gaped at him, while Race calmly just wiped off the excess blood and pulled out a shirt.

"You... knife...?" Jack spluttered.

Race nodded like he was stupid, "I told you, Ada sent me home with the knife prop to practice and some fake blood."

Race was okay.

Jack was going to kill him.

"I thought you stabbed yourself!" Jack felt a bit angry. He was genuinely worried about the stupid boy!