You Can't Hurt Me

Epilogue

It seemed that no matter how long you stood still, the world still moved around you, and you were stuck with your head in the sand confused how it all changed.

For Race he was caught standing still in a hurricane, the world was a whirlwind in only a few days and Race hadn't even found the time to move.

Shortly after their talk, Jack got a huge break in his art. Someone decorated a new hotel with almost all of his pieces, and were still requesting more. Jack said it was because it was cheap quality work. Race suspected it was because no one's brush stroke told such a purposeful story like Jack's.

Because of that, they were able to move away from that horrid apartment into a small house just perfect for them. Now Race couldn't see the refrigerator from the bathroom, which was nice.

It wasn't anything special, the fence was lopsided and the doors had scratches. Windows held rust in the corners and Race was pretty sure the basement was haunted.

But it was home, and Race loved it. No more creepy gun shots, no more drugs, just him and Jack in a small blue house with peeling wallpaper.

Today they had just finished putting all their boxes away, and Jack said he had a surprise for him.

Told him to dress nice which was weird. So Race wore his best sweatpants and hoodie.

Well okay he was until Jack yelled at him and forcefully pulled out jeans and a plain blue shirt.

Now Race was sitting on the couch, hella confused in itchy tight clothes, waiting for whatever the hell Jack's surprise was.

"Stop picking at the couch, we just got a nice one." Jack slapped Race's hand away, "calm down they're almost here."

"So its a person?" Race asked.

Jack cursed, "yeah yeah, now shut it and look real cute. No not that, that's constipated. I said cute."

Race scowled and trolly horsed him. Which resulted in Jack trolly horsing him back. Which resulted into them wrestling on the couch.

Then the door opened, and an elderly black lady came in, wearing bright popping colors, behind her a man with crutches. They looked over and Jack had Race's head in an arm lock.

"Uh- hey mama." He winced. The lady put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes.

"Jack Kelly will you get up and give your mama a hug?" She held her arms out. Jack smiled wide and ran over like a ten year old boy hugging his best friend, and Race felt very excluded.

"I missed you two." Jack said, pulling in the boy with crutches.

"Not that much considering you found yourself a friend." The guy teased.

Jack looked over surprised like he had momentarily forgotten that Race was just sitting there awkwardly.

"Oh! Mama, Crutchie, this is Race. Race this is Medda Larkin, and my little brother Crutchie." Jack walked over and grabbed Race's arms to push him into the reunion.

"Francis! You mean to tell me that this boy you never stop talking about doesn't even know who we are!" Medda said incredulously.

Jack blushed a deep dark red. "Well..."

She shook her head, "unbelievable! Antonio, you can call me Medda, mama or even grandma!"

Race smiled shyly, "um, nice to meet you Medda, I'm Antonio which uh... you know but you can call me Race."

He held out his hand but was pulled into a hug. She was warm like Jack, he loved it.

Crutchie hit Jack's shin with his crutches.