When I Tell You My Jaw Dropped - Tumblr Posts

please 🙏 just please

Day 7 of @ailesswhumptober

Field medicine/running out of supplies- “hold on. We’re going to have to improvise.”

apologies this one is not good

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It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

He didn’t know how it went all wrong this quickly, he had planned it for weeks, he’d thought it out, he’d be good. Had stayed off Snyder’s radar and out of the way.

He never thought anything could happen that could make him wish he stayed in the refuge.

The building was haunted, Jack would swear it, infected; infested with every bad thing that had ever happened in there, with every lashing and every missed meal and the sleep shirts and sheets vandalised by mice and rats, spiders making home in every corner. The constant smell of must, and dust and vomit and Snyder’s cologne, and Christ Jack remembered barely making it through last winter, remembered how his lungs rattled as he pulled the thin, stained sheet tighter around his younger brothers body, willing him to sleep, hoping the shivers would exhaust him enough that he could get some rest.

It was why he needed to get Michael out now, before the cold could hit again worse than it already had this month. Michael’s lungs were already weak.

But there was more blood than Jack had ever seen, the puddle of red growing larger and filling the cracks in the cobblestones.

He slammed against the fence, skin sticking to the icy metal as he rattled it, freezing despite the fact it only late October. It was a desperate cry, voice scratching and raw in his throat as he yelled, something visceral and animalistic as Snyder leant down over the body of Jack’s little brother, eyes closed, head haloed in blood-

“Michael!” The name was ripped from him, he didn’t recognise his own voice, stripped down to pure grief. “Don’ touch him! Snyder don’ touch him-“

Snyder didn’t even look over at him, as collected as he always was, brows furrowed in thought as he reached out with a polished black shoe to gently nudge Michael’s head to the side, frowning to himself at whatever he was seeing.

From behind the gate Jack could only make out his little brothers curls matted with blood, the back of his head a mess of dark red, and concave-

Jack threw himself against the locked fence again. The carriage he had jumped on had already left the courtyard, was already out the gate, when he realised his little brother was no longer next to him. The euphoria had been immediately killed by the pit opening up in the base of his stomach.

Michael’s scream that was still echoing in his ears and the sickening crack as his head hit the cobbles had Jack scrambling off seconds too late, trapping him on the outside of the refuge courtyard.

The skin of his palms sticking to the fence. He never thought he’d be begging to be let back in.

Snyder had a key for it, for the padlock that held the gate shut, Jack knew he did.

“Sny- Mr Snyder please-“ his voice was raw, choked up with tears, face wet and burning hot, the back of his throat aching and a pounding headache just behind his eyes. “Open the gate, please, lemme see him-“

“Oh you poor boy.” But the statement wasn’t directed at Jack. His tone was softer than he had ever heard it, but still so cold, sharp at all the edges. He was quiet enough that Jack had to strain to hear.

Snyder tutted, hunkered down next to Michael. “Just what has your brother done to you?”

Jack was going to throw up. He didn’t let go off the gate as he wretched, trying to fight through the urge to vomit while trying to work out some way of getting Snyder’s attention.

He could feel boys staring out The Refuge windows, watching. He had bragged to them all that they were getting out.

(He pictured an orange sun, low hanging dusk, warmth and food and somewhere so far from here. His brother at his side.)

“I’ll do whatever you wan’- I’ll stay- just lemme in- please.” His voice broke to a crack, a sob he could barely understand as his own.

Snyder didn’t even look at him

“Mr Corey.” Snyder’s tone was sharper this time, and directed at one of the guards stood in the refuge doorway, the one who had alerted Snyder to the child’s body bleeding out in his cobblestone court yard. Who had told him it seemed like an escape attempt gone wrong.

“Get me some antiseptic will you, and some bandages. We’re going to have to improvise.” Jack swore Snyder’s gaze flicked to him for a moment, “I doubt he’ll survive. But we may as well try, it’s not the boys fault, after all.”

It was difficult to make out what Snyder was saying with the way it felt like Jack’s head had been dunked under water, each movement slow and pointless and muffled, black fuzz slowly growing round the edges of his vision.

He slammed his hand against the metal again, “Snyder! You’re sick- lemme see him- he’s my brother-“

“The antiseptic you wanted, sir.” Jack was interrupted, ignored.

He was watching his brother bleed out while Snyder took the bottle and cloth bandages handed to him, pleasant handsome smile on his face as if there wasn’t a child in his care who was- who-

Jack couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit it.

Then Snyder tipped the bottle of antiseptic upside down and let it mix will the blood on the cobblestones.

Jack’s chest felt hollow.

When the bottle was empty, Snyder shook it, just to make sure.

Then he looked up at Jack and smiled. All faux sympathy, something cruel flashing behind his eyes.

“There’s nothing I can do for your brother, I’m afraid Mr Kelly.”

A sob ripped through Jack.

“You wanted to escape, so go.” It felt like his ribs were cracking, being stepped on and splitting into shards. He couldn’t breathe.

Snyder’s smile was shark like, all sharp teeth in a row, vying for blood.

“Oh don’t feel too bad Jack, you promised him freedom didn’t you? He got it.”

baby but why

“…my life is worthwhile. I’m worried I’ll forget that.”