You Can't Hurt Me

My Brotha'

Jack peered across the corner again for the fourth time, he gripped the phone tighter. Race was still on the couch just staring at the wall, and Jack was concerned. Davey's face on the other end of the call was calculating, trying to put together a puzzle.

"Did anything happen?" He asked Jack again which was becoming increasingly less helpful.

"I told you, I do not know!" He hissed into the phone, Race didn't react despite the raise in voice.

"Just go talk to him."

Jack glared at the boy, "about what?"

Davey shrugged.

Jack scowled and ended the phone call, he was unhelpful. Then he brainstormed on his own for ten minutes, which led to ultimately nothing.

Finally he did just what Davey said to do and walked over, sitting next to Race.

Race looked over at him with a raised eyebrow, "finally listen to Davey?"

"You heard that?" Jack winced.

Race sniggered, "you're not inconspicuous, he's right you know."

"Yeah yeah, Davey's always right. Tell me what's going on?"

Race shrugged, "just thinking."

"For an hour?" Jack challenged.

"Big thoughts," Race shrugged again.

"Care to share?" Jack pushed again.

Race got silent again, which left Jack unsure what to do. What do you say when the person entrusted in your care just stares out into space? Is he supposed to get ice cream? They do get ice cream a lot in movies.

Thankfully Jack didn't have to ponder any longer because Race spoke again.

"Do you think my fatha' loved me?" He asked, turning to look Jack straight in the eye.

Oh God. Oh God no. The silence was so much better, Jack wasn't cut out for this dammit.

"I... uh..." Jack stammered, weren't parents supposed to have the words to say? He's not really much of a parent though.

Race laughed, "I don't know why you would know."

They got silent again, Race soaking in thoughts while Jack panicked on what to say. Stupid Davey and his stupid solutions.

Surprisingly it was Race who spoke up again, "I keep thinking, and going back, and honestly Jack I don't think he loved me."

His lip quivered slightly, drawing down in a frown. "I know he liked me, we had fun together, talkin' and drinking together."

Jack chose to ignore the last one.

"But the more I think back, the less I can find a single memory where he really genuinely cared. I'd loose a bet and he'd just slap my back and say tough luck, I'd cry and he would just turn on the TV and let me get over it. And then you, this guy who doesn't even know me takes me in when I'm starving and supports me completely." Race looked up at Jack.

"How do you love me more than my own dad?" He asked, and Jack wished it was rhetorical. But Race's burning eyes sold Jacks soul in that moment. So Jack didn't think about it, he just spat out the first thing that passed his mind.

"Because you're amazing Racer." Jack smiled at the boy. "Every single moment Im more and more surprised at how smart, funny, creative you are. But not even that, it's not something you did, the way you act, it's just... you."

Race threw his arms around him and Jack felt a few salty tears stain his shirt.

"I don't know what I'd do without you Jackie." Race sniffled, "when my dad asked me to run away with him after he broke out of prison."

"He what!"

"All I could think about was how much I'd miss Albert, Spot, Davey, Katherine, but mostly you. I chose you over him, does that make me a bad son?"

Jack sighed, "no, of course not Race. You made the healthy decision for yourself. The right decision, I'm so proud of you."

Race squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, "then why do I feel so bad?"

Jack squeezed tighter, tucking his chin over Race's soft curls tickling the bottom of his nose.

"Because you love him." He answered simply.

Race broke down in Jacks warm strong arms, squeezing him comfortably. Race didn't pour out a multitude of tears though, no he curled up slowly and choked on ragged gasps of breath. Though he wasn't much smaller than Jack he felt very small tucked into him. He was rather skinny so next to him he looked tiny.

"Y'know Jack," Race said as an afterthought, "maybe... maybe I don't need him. Because I have you, and ain't that enough? I may not know if he loves me, but I know you do."

Jack choked up, unsure of what to say.

Race didn't seem to care about his lack of response because he curled up against Jacks chest, nothing else said.

Breathing became exhausting, and the already tear blurred sight blurred further, the corners blackening as he closed his eyes and fell asleep out of pure exhaustion in Jacks arms.

Jack didn't know what to do, he'd never seen someone grieve like that, like his father had died. Maybe he was grieving the image he lost of his father, maybe the fact that he may never see him again if his dad really does leave. Jack isn't sure but he's glad Race said no.

He wasn't cut out for these sort of things, but being with Race made them worth it. Almost like when it mattered most, he knew what to say. Maybe that was age old wisdom, maybe it was the fact that he loved that boy like he'd loved Crutchie when his mama adopted him.

Expect he'd never been truly in charge of Crutchie. This was different, every decision was ride or die. He said the wrong thing and it wouldn't just hurt him, it would hurt the red faced boy too.

Jack swore he wouldn't let anyone hurt him, sure he probably wouldn't have anyway, he was a naturally good person. But now the mere thought was a personal insult and he would run high and low to protect him.

It wasn't like with Crutchie when he felt responsible. He was responsible, and that was scary in a way Jack never imagined.

With all the failed romances, devastating dates, one failed proposal, Jack honestly was starting to think he was going to die alone, watching from afar as everyone found people to love, people to cherish.

This time, he was still on that island watching from afar, but this time Race was laughing next to him.

Whoever Race ends up dating is definitely going to have to fight Jack for attention.

Jack laughter a little, holding his hand to his mouth.

He was going to get to send Race on his first date. Lend him his best tie, his best cologne, tie his left shoe because he'll forget in the frenzy of it all, stand by the door all tall and intimidating because whoever was on that other end was going to have to go through quite a shovel talk. Or maybe he'd get to drive Race there, teasing him the whole way, making jokes that was surely going to get something thrown at him. Ask him a thousand questions and laugh when he blushed.

Or hold him when it didn't go well.

Jack turned on the tv and smiled.

He was ride or die for that boy forever.