#killian dasilva

[somedayonbroadway]

I just had a thought, about Albert and Race fighting, because they’re best friends fight sometimes yknow. Do you think you could maybe write something about that, please?

Ya know... I didn’t mean for this to happen, but here ya go, hon! Full fledged oneshot! 

Here it is! Accidentally Hurt By a Friend! Because it fit. Little warning though... it is a Christmas fic ;)

“That Christmas Feeling”

Tile: Accidentally Hurt By a Friend 

Fandom: Newsies

Word count: 8k

Characters: Racetrack Higgins, Albert DaSilva, Jack Kelly, Crutchie Morris, Bryan Denton, Killian DaSilva (OC), Dimitri DaSilva(OC), Jeanne DaSilva (OC), Spot Conlon (mentioned), Smalls, Paula (OC)

Summary: It’s snowing outside. Lights are hanging from every house and parents are rushing around to gather their last minute gifts. But Race is just cold. It doesn’t feel like Christmas. Not yet.

"Race, c'mon... just get in the car."

"No! I didn't ask for your opinion! You ain't my mother!"

"No, I ain't! But at least, unlike her, I'm here!"

"Oh, that's real nice, Al. Why don't you continue to rub in the fact that you still have a family, n' I don't."

It was cold. So cold. But neither of them noticed. They were too busy yelling at each other, being blinded by anger that had come upon them both so quickly. Race meet meant to start a fight. He didn't know what he'd meant to do. He just knew he hated fighting.

The redhead let out a breathy, bitter laugh. "You have Jack and Crutchie. Just cause you can't see 'em everyday, don't mean you don't got them!" Albert shot back. He was shivering. But he didn't move.

It was snowing. They were both bundled up. But it was still cold.

Wind blew by all around them. Race was mere feet from the passenger side door of Albert's old car. Albert could drive, Race couldn't. It was something they'd come accustom to. Race had spent so much time in that car. Laughing, crying, panicking. That car is where him and his best friend bonded and talked to each other about everything.

But Race did not want to get in that car right now. "Yeah, because I'm sure you know what it's like ta have one a' your brothers in jail n' the other in across the fuckin' country!"

Shaking his head, Albert took a step closer to his best friend. "Look I don't get to see my brothers everyday either!" he shot back. "Thats not even the point! The point is, Spot Conlon is bad news! What would Jack think?"

"Jack ain't here!" Race screamed, stepping forward to shove the other boy against the side of his car. He regretted the action immediately, stopping for a moment and freezing at his own outburst. He took a step back as the tears came to his eyes.

The one person he found in three years who took the time to understand him, to laugh with him and make him feel like less of a charity case had always been described as off-limits. As dangerous.

Yes, maybe he'd slept with the bad boy from Brooklyn. Maybe it would be a mistake. But it didn't feel like one. At least not yet. And Race guessed he had just wanted his best friend to be happy for him instead of treating him like a piece of glass that would break at any minute.

"Jack ain't here... n' you damn well know it. So stop tellin' me ta think about what my brother would say, alright?!" He didn't know how to stop now. He was just angry. He was just hurt. He was just alone and scared and sick of Albert treating him like some fragile package that couldn't go out into the world alone. "Spot isn't what they say. He was really sweet n' gentle n' unlike you, he makes me feel like I'm my own goddamn person!"

"Ya know what, Race? Screw you, okay?" Albert shot back, shaking his head again and stepping away from the passenger side door. "For the past three years it's been a real shit show f'r you, n' I get that. But ya know one a' these days ya gotta stop throwin' yerself a pity party because you don't like it when someone tells ya your bein' stupid!"

"You don't know a Goddamn thing, Albert!" Race cried, wishing that he could somehow just make everyone understand. Wishing that everyone knew what it was like to hurt this bad all the time. No one understood. "I don't even know why I try ta talk ta you anymore when apparently every move I make is just me actin' out because my life sucks!" He was so sick of being the fragile package. He was tired of being the one that needed protection. He was so tired of everyone shielding him from the world. He was so tired of Albert trying to control him. "At least, unlike you, I have the guts ta still live my life instead a' tryin' ta take over someone else's!"

Shoving Race back finally, Albert breathed in through his teeth. "I am just tryin' ta help you, ya dumbass! Yes! I followed you ta Brooklyn! I was scared for you, okay? Hate ta break it to ya, TJ, but you are fragile! You're life fell apart and it's okay ta be fragile!" Albert argued, his voice high pitched and irritated. People were turning to watch their argument. But Albert didn't care. "You need ta take a step back n' think about-"

"If you tell me one more time ta think about what my father would think, you shut your mouth right now," the blond boy warned darkly, glaring at his friend. Albert scowled, but didn't speak. "You lost your mother before you could remember her. You have no idea what it feels like ta lose anybody right in front a' you... so back off. Stop tryin' ta live my life, stop tryin' ta be my motha' n' stop with the goddamn fake sympathy. I don't need you!"

"I don't need you either!" Albert countered immediately, as if he was daring Race to argue with him. "Ya know what, find your own way home," he muttered. The redhead shook his head and walked around to the driver side door, pulling it open and climbing in, before slamming the thing shut again. And then he drove off, leaving Race standing there in the cold, stranded at a small coffee shop where they both happened to work after school and on the weekends.

He could just go back inside, call an Uber or something. But Race just growled out in anger and reached down into the snow, grabbing a fistful of the frozen dust in his gloved hand before chucking it at his best friend who was already halfway down the street.

Huffing when Albert made no move to turn back, Race grumbled under his breath and began walking. It couldn't be that bad. It was only snowing. He only lived three miles away.

But home is not where he wanted to go at that moment. No. So somehow, he made his way down to the subway. And he was headed downtown.

Life was far from perfect for one Tyler James Kelly, or as it said on his fake ID, Antonio Isaac Higgins. He didn't like the things that tied him to everything he'd been through. He didn't like that his name was what tipped everyone off. That it's what made everyone pity him or treat him like some kid.

He knew his life was shit. He didn't need everyone else reminding him of that.

Especially not now. Not when Christmas was right around the corner.

He pulled his coat further around him and the beanie down tighter over his head. It was cold. The fingerless gloves he wore were more for the look than warmth, as he hadn't known he'd be spending so much time outside.

Jesus, Jack really would kill him.

He should just get off, call Albert. Apologize. He shouldn't be doing this. Denton would kill him once he figured out that he hadn't gone straight home after work.

But the exit came too quickly and Race stepped off, walking down some familiar roads, sure to keep his gaze low and steady. He knew how things worked in certain neighborhoods. As long as he kept his profile low, it would be okay. He just needed to get to the right place and he'd be safe.

He knew he'd be safe.

"ID?"

Race showed it to the woman, sure to keep himself calm as he did so. They'd almost caught on a few times. But Race was a very good actor. He'd learned from the best.

"Make sure to sign in. Someone'll be out with him in a moment."

Nodding, the boy did as he was told, going through the familiar routine with no difficultly before he was led over to a seat in front of bullet proof glass. A phone was on his right. He slid his ID card back into his pocket as he waited, reaching up to rub at his eyes.

It wasn't long before someone in a grey jumpsuit was lead out to the seat across from him by one of the guards.

The second Jack saw him his eyes brightened, but Race knew his brother had to pretend to not be happy to see him.

The young man behind the glass slowly lowered himself down into the chair and took the phone just as Race did, though he was a bit slower. The boy was quick as lightning. "Again, Racer?" Jack asked in a small laugh. "You keep this up, you're gonna be the one sittin' in here, 'stead a' me," he joked.

The boy let out a small laugh too, though it was a bit sadder. There was a lot of things that were making Race's heart clench in that moment. The fact that he couldn't hug Jack, the thought of spending another Christmas without both of his brothers and the fight he'd just had with his best friend in the entire world who was the only constant he'd had in his life for the past three years.

Since his papa died.

He swallowed hard and sniffled a little bit, trying to pretend that it was from the cold when they both knew it wasn't. "Hey, Jackie..." Race whispered into he phone as his smile faded a bit.

Leaning over the counter even further, Jack sighed. "Hey, kid..." he greeted back, shooting the boy one of his famous smiles. It cheered Race up, even if only for a moment. "You know you're not s'posed ta be here without Denton," the young man whispered, giving him a knowing look.

And Race shrugged. "I just really missed you t'day... n'... I... Denton wouldn't a' let me come..." he forced out, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "I'm sort a'... s'posed ta be... um..."

"Grounded," Jack finished for him, nodding a little. "I know ya think Denton just leaves me in the dark, pal, but he's in here once a week, with or without you," he stated. When he saw the look of fear pass over the boy's face he sighed again. "I won't tell him you're here if ya really don't want me to..."

The longing that Race felt coursed through his whole body. He wished beyond anything else that his brother could just hold him for a minute. He was bound to break any second now. "I just... I needed ta talk ta someone... I needed ta talk ta you..." he stated honestly, running a hand through his hair.

Nodding a bit, Jack shrugged. "Okay... I'm listenin'," he promised gently.

The way Jack looked at him was like nothing else. Jack had always been his hero growing up. He thought it would change when he'd seen Jack led out of a courtroom in handcuffs. Maybe it had, for just a little while. But he quickly came to realize that Jack was still the same Jack he'd always known.

After all, the only reason Jack had been hacking and stealing in the first place was because he'd been trying to provide for him.

"I just... me n' Al got into a fight... n'... I dunno, it's stupid..." he finally muttered out, not really wanting to complain about his small problems when he only had so long with the man who was the reason he had survived his childhood.

"Well, if it's got you upset enough ta come all the way down here, from work, n' use a fake ID ta talk ta me, it prob'ly ain't stupid... but if ya don't wanna talk about it, I got somethin' I wanna tell you," Jack offered happily, looking much too excited about something.

The mere look in his brother's eye was enough to make Race smile. Jack's excitement always gave him a warm, familiar type of feeling. Because even when they'd been on the streets, freezing and cold, Jack had always managed to make him smile. "What?" he questioned, curious.

His grin widening as he let out a small laugh, Jack shrugged. "Guess who's gettin' released in two weeks," he prompted.

The air caught in Race's chest as tears sparked in his eyes. He let his mouth hung open. "Really?" he breathed, somewhat expecting this to be some kind of mean joke.

But Jack nodded. "Yeah! I was gonna wait till Denton was here ta tell you! N' I was gonna call Crutchie tomorrow night. But... I'm gettin' outta here... December 22nd..."

With a small chuckle and tears beginning to fall down his cheeks, Race covered his lips. "You're gonna be home for Christmas," he whispered. "You're... n'... you're gonna be home!"

He couldn't describe it. The excitement he felt, that is. Jack had tears running down his face too. He was so happy. He lifted up his hand to press it up against the glass, like he wished to touch Race's face. He did. He really did. "I'm gonna start over, baby... get a job n' find my own place..."

"I'll help ya," Race offered, still overjoyed. "Whateva' ya need!"

"That's very nice, pal... but all I'm gonna need from you is a hug," he assured. Race grinned, reaching to wipe at his cheeks. "Alright, c'mon, now... what's a' matta', Tyler James? What happened?"

Oh. That. Race had almost forgotten about that. He sniffled, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand as he shook his head. "Al just... doesn't get it..." he stated, still trying to clear his tears away. He began to use his sleeves instead. "I was... just... he treats me like a goddamn piece a' glass. I know our life ain't perfect, but I don't need him treatin' me like a kid all the time!" he forced out, running another hand through his hair. "I guess I just wish I was normal," he sighed.

Jack nodded. "I'm sorry we ain't. Really... but if I know Albert, he's just lookin' out f'r you..." he tried to reason.

The younger boy went to respond, but his phone vibrated in his pocket before he could. He shook his head and rested the old phone at the crook of his neck, reaching to pull out his own.

He thought maybe it was Denton, calling him, screaming at him over text, telling him to get his ass back to the house. But that's not what it was.

Jack watched his little brother's eyes widen. "Racer?" he called, curious as to what was going on. "Kid?" he called again, when the boy continued to stare in horror at the screen in his hands.

The picture that had popped up on his screen was a text message from one of his classmates. A girl he called Smalls. With it was the message "have you seen this?"

No. Race hadn't seen it.

It was a picture of him. Him and someone else. Someone else who had a tongue down his throat. A boy. Spot Conlon. Only, Spot's face wasn't visible in that picture. No. Of course not. Only Race was.

Albert had probably sent it to her. Probably in a group chat.

"Baby brother? You're scarin' me... what is it?"

The boy licked his lips as he tried to figure out a way to respond. He knew who'd taken that picture. "I'm gonna kill him..." he muttered. Jack's eyebrows furrowed for a moment.

Just as he might've questioned his brother again, another voice spoke and Jack's eyes widened. "Oh, but you'll be dead first, now won't you?"

Race dropped the prison phone and whirled around. "Denton," he stated, simply acknowledging the man, though the fear was clear in his eyes. The man was standing there completely disappointed and stoic. He was in his late thirties at most, with brown hair and deep brown eyes.

"I told you to school, to work and back. No exceptions. Phone. Now." Denton demanded, holding out his hand. But Race didn't move.

He was too stunned. "But..."

"Tyler James Kelly, move your ass now. Give me the phone and go to the car," the man ordered again. The boy could've burst into tears right then and there.

There were already tears falling down his face. He didn't want to make a scene. He locked his phone and handed it to the man, turning back to his big brother and picking up the line. "I love you, Jackie... see ya soon..."

Jack nodded. "Love ya, kiddo..." he responded with a sorry look in his eyes. "I'll see you in two weeks, okay?"

The boy nodded and rushed past his foster dad quick, paying him no mind on his way out. Jack watched him go, his heart breaking in the process. He waited for Denton to pick up the phone. And when he did, he didn't give him the chance to have the first word. "Look, I know he's an idiot, but don't put this all on him... he n' Albert had a fight n' he ran ta me ta talk about it because that's what woulda been normal," he tried to explain, wishing beyond anything that he could just hold the boy close and tell him it was all going to be okay.

But Denton sighed. The man had heard it all before. Race did what he thought what be normal. Sometimes, it just wasn't good for him. "I know it's hard on him, not having you or Charlie... but this whole fake ID thing has to stop before it gets out of hand. I told him a week and he couldn't even survive that long without using it," he stated. He saw Jack's eyes linger down to the table in front of him as he nodded sadly. "Look, I know he misses you and I know you miss him, but he needs to learn to follow the rules-"

"Unlike me, yes I know," Jack replied, his green eyes a bit angry. Not at Denton. At himself. "Look, I'm... I just need ta say thank you... f'r taking him in... most folks wouldn't be half as good ta him as you are. So thank you... just please go easy on him..." he asked, running a nervous hand through his hair.

Nodding, Denton agreed. "I'll see you soon, Jack," he stated confidently, offering Jack a small smile.

The young man smiled. "December 22nd," he relayed to Denton, just as he had to his brother.

An odd feeling filled up in Denton's chest at the news. He couldn't depict it. Not right then. Not when Jack's was beginning to look so happy again. "I'll be there to get you. With Race. I promise."

That seemed to be all Jack needed to hear. He bit his lip as he hung the phone back up and then stood to his feet, offering the man a grateful nod before he was escorted away.

And Denton was left on his own to deal with a broken sixteen year old who he hoped had just gone to the car.

—

"Gee Race maybe if you'd just listen ta me, I might have somethin' ta say, but of course ya can't because I'm not Jack n' you can't listen ta anyone who's not Jack, not even Charlie, who, oh by the way, asked me ta keep n' eye on you before goin' off ta California even though he was really nervous about leavin' you and thought you might hate him!"

Albert was talking to himself. It was a habit he'd picked up from a young age. Sometimes it helped him get his thoughts in order. Sometimes it made him even more confused. Sometimes it just made him angry that he wasn't actually just talking to his best friend.

He pulled into his driveway, shutting the car off quickly before hitting the steering wheel and collapsing back into the driver's seat. He was so tired. He just didn't know what to do.

Race and him had been friends since they were six years old. When Race's dad has been killed in that car wreck, Albert was the only person he'd told about it. Albert was the only one who knew about Race and his brothers living on the streets, hardly able to find shelter. Albert was the only one that Race had been comfortable asking for a bed and a blanket. Race had always run to him for help when Jack and Crutchie couldn't offer anymore.

Now Race didn't need him. Because Albert had apparently had no part in getting him through the past three years.

With a huff, the red headed boy pulled his phone out of his back pocket, pulling off his gloves and typing in a familiar phone number. He let the thing ring and he let his leg bounce up and down in attempts to warm himself up in the car that was still freezing inside.

"Hello?"

"I can't do it, Charlie. He's driving me insane. I'm trying to talk to him and he won't even-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Charlie called, clearly confused and stunned. "Slow down, Albie, what's goin' on?"

Trying to take a full breath before speaking again, the boy seethed. "You need ta call, Race. He's not listening ta me. I was tryin' ta tell him it wasn't a good idea ta be sleepin' around with Spot Conlon and he lost it," he explained as simply as he could.

A beat of silence passed over the other end of the call before Charlie was able to process the information. "Spot Conlon?"

"Yes!" Albert confirmed angrily.

Charlie groaned. "Oh, Tyler James..." he muttered. "Look, Al... Tyler is just lookin' f'r some kind of outlet, okay? He's been callin' me like crazy f'r the past few days. He's really missin' me n' Jack and he figures if he can't have that, he'll find somethin' else," he tried to explain. But Albert still didn't truly understand. "Just... he's really strugglin' right now. Don't let him push you away. That won't be good f'r no one..."

Of course it wouldn't. But Race was sick of being treated delicately. Albert didn't know what to do. He just wanted his friend to be the guy he'd always been. He just wanted Race to talk to him. "Okay... okay... I'm sorry... I just... I'm so worried about him n'... we had this stupid fight and I shouldn't have left him standin' alone and I'm really sorry, but he wasn't gettin' in the car n'-"

"Jesus, it's a wonder you n' Race can ever actually hear each other," he joked. It was something both of the boys were very aware of. Nervous rambling. They could just never stop it. "Look, I'll call him. But you should too. You're his best friend n' he loves you. I'll text you after I talk ta him, okay?"

"Okay..." Albert sighed, running a hand over his face. "Okay... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Red. I'll talk to ya soon, okay... take a breather..."

Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, Albert nodded, though he knew his friend couldn't see him. "Okay... bye, Crutchie..."

"Bye, Al..."

It had been a long, hard year. Especially for Race. Sometimes when Albert looked at his friend it was hard not to picture the way he clung to Crutchie at the airport, tears spilling down his face as he begged his brother to stay or the way he completely broke when he had to watch Jack hauled out of a courtroom in handcuffs.

It was hard to see that crazy, bright, carefree little boy that he used to be. Race was broken. And Albert was trying to hard to just hold him together.

He supposed it was possible that his grip was too strong. That he was just making his best friend crack even faster.

He shouldn't have asked about Spot. He shouldn't have followed Race in the first place. But Race had been acting odd for the past couple weeks. It was Christmas time. Albert knew that. He also knew that last Christmas had been extremely hard on Race. The first one he'd had without Jack.

But he shouldn't have taken that picture. That was a lousy thing to do.

Before he could think further on that and let the sadness and guilt fill up in his chest even faster, his phone buzzed. He picked it up, curious as to how Charlie had talked to Race so quickly, before he found that it wasn't Charlie at all.

Paula: "do you have the notes for Algebra?"

Without hardly thinking, Albert clicked to send his classmate pictures of the notes that he'd meant to send her anyway. And then he shoved the thing into his pocket and got out of the car.

"Shit..." he muttered to himself. It really was freezing. He really shouldn't have left Race.

Rushing inside, the boy shut the door quickly behind him. "Dad?" he called, kicking his shoes off as the warmth hit him.

"Dad went off to the store! You're stuck with us," another voice replied.

And Albert smiled. "Hey, Dimitri," he greeted easily, walking around the corner to find his older brother, standing in the middle of the family room, a little, red headed girl up on his shoulders.

She was grinning so widely and had her hands on the man's forehead. "Uncle Albie!" she cried happily. Albert smiled and ran into the room.

"Jeanne!" the boy cried, taking the small girl off of her father's shoulders so that he could give her a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squealed in delight. "Where's your mama?" he asked.

"She's at work. She's gonna pick up Killian on her way here. He insisted on making dinner today," Dimitri stated, taking his daughter back from Albert's arms. "Where's Racer? Aren't you two attached at the hip?" he teased.

Albert rolled his eyes. "No. We don't have ta do everything t'gether!" he defended, wincing at his own insistence.

Dimitri furrowed his eyebrows and held his daughter close. "Okay... Killian was gonna ask if he wanted ta stay for dinner. Sorry," he defended, taking Jeanne and walking past his little brother, running a hand over his hair on the way out.

Albert let him walk away. He pulled out his phone again, hoping for a text from Charlie. Instead, he found another text from Paula. "Who's that with Race?"

Albert's heart dropped. "Shit," he hissed, sliding open his phone to get to the conversation.

Five pictures. Only four of them were what he'd actually meant to send.

The last one was a picture he'd meant to delete.

"Really, Al? In front of the kid?" his brother asked irritated. But Albert rushed passed him and ran up the stairs.

"Shit, shit, shit," he muttered again and again. This wasn't just a small mistake. He'd sent that picture to Paula Greene. The gossip queen of Roosevelt High.

He opened up his Snapchat. It was the first thing he saw. "Shit!"

—

"You can't ground me f'r wantin' ta see my brotha'," Race argued, slow tears still sliding down his face. He leaned against the cool window, making a point to curl up in the corner of the subway, away from his foster father.

The man reached to put his hand on the boy's knee. Race rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheeks again. "No... you're right. I can't ground you for wanting to see your brother..." he agreed, thumbing over the kid's leg. "I can ground you for making a fake ID and not ever telling me where you're going. You know that I don't want you going down to the prison alone."

"You're not my dad!" Tyler insisted, pulling out of the man's reach. He curled in even further on himself and sniffled as his throat tightened. He hugged himself tight and refused to look Denton in the eye.

The man didn't argue with him. He didn't try to touch him again. He just let the boy ignore him for a minute as the phone in his pocket received notification after notification. Reaching into his pocket he took it out, hoping to just turn it off, before he saw the somewhat alarming messages that were popping up on his foster son's screen.

He opened it.

The boy scoffed. "Really? You're gonna look through my texts now?"

Denton ignored him, finding the thing that all the chaos was about. A picture. A picture he didn't like at all. "TJ, who is this?"

Not even looking down at the screen, Race shook his head and crossed his arms. "Nobody," he mumbled. His eyes glossed over again as he tried hard not to think about it.

But Denton was still scrolling through the cell phone. "Tyler... someone posted it..."

That's what really got Race's attention. His gaze shot over to the man. "What?" Albert wouldn't do that. Albert was still his best friend.

"Okay, calm down..." Denton tried when the boy shot up and grabbed for his small device. "Tyler, stay calm please-"

The boy grasped at his hair tightly, shaking his head. "I'm... I'm not out!" He admitted into the empty train. "Bryan, you n' my brothers n' Al are the only ones who knew!"

The man placed a quick hand on the boy's back and pulled him close, locking his phone as more messages appeared, some asking if he was okay, others teasing him and calling him names. He gently took the phone back and pulled the kid to him. Race resisted, but only for a moment. That was when he just let it all go.

He sobbed. And he let Denton have the phone. He wanted his brothers. He wanted his father. He wanted his mother to come back. He wanted it to feel like Christmas. He wanted so badly to sit in the kitchen on Jack's lap and help him decorate cookies and hear Crutchie singing carols at the top of his lungs. He wanted his brothers and his parents and he just wanted it to be Christmas.

And now his best friend was mad at him. And all he could be was angry and terrified that he was losing that too.

"Okay... it's okay..." Denton soothed, letting the boy lay in his lap and holding him gently. Race had been with him for almost a year. He loved the kid like he was his own. But Race was still having trouble without his big brothers. "It'll be okay, buddy..."

From the bottom of his heart, the man hoped it would be.

—

Eventually they made it home. Race had calmed down just a bit by then, settling for a couple sniffles and his foster father's arm around his shoulders.

It was warm inside. Race relaxed a bit at the smell of the Christmas tree that was light over in the corner. He let the dim lights calm him even further as he kicked his shoes off and left them by the door. "Lemme guess, straight ta my room?" he asked, knowing he was still in trouble.

But a hand settled down on his shoulder and before he could argue Denton had brought him back into a tight hug. And Race melted into him. "I'm sorry..." he sighed. "I didn't mean ta-"

"Shhhh..." the man soothed, rubbing a hand up and down the boy's back. "I know that it's hard. I know that you miss having Christmas with your family. I know that I'm not your biological father... but I do care about you," he promised, letting the kid rest against him, taking most of his weight. "I'm sorry about what's happenin'. I'm sure Albert didn't mean it, but that doesn't mean it's okay..."

"I just... I like Spot... n' Albert doesn't... I didn't think he would do somethin' like this..." Denton pet the kid's hair as he whispered. "I thought maybe seein' Jack would make me feel betta'..." he admitted, resting his cheek on his foster father's shoulder. "He loves Christmas time..." A small smile came onto his lips as reminisced on old memories. "One year we stayed in a shelter... Jack dressed up as Santa Claus f'r the kids... he got... um... got some money ta get them some toys n' some candy..."

A small laugh escaped Denton as he pulled away and cupped the boy's face to thumb at Tyler's tears. "That sounds like Jack," he stated with a small nod.

The boy glanced down at the ground. "It ain't fair..." he breathed.

"I know, kiddo," Denton assured. "But hey... he's comin' home... he'll be here for Christmas..."

The boy let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I gotta go out shoppin'... make up f'r last Christmas," he joked.

Denton nodded. "How 'bout we go together?"

"Okay," Race smiled, blinking and realizing for the first time how tired he was. "Can I call Charlie n' say goodnight?" he asked.

Running a hand over the boy's hair, the man nodded. "Yeah... use the home phone..."

"Alright, old man," Race teased, offering a sad smile to his guardian before sliding away from him and scooping up the phone off of the kitchen counter.

He dialed a familiar number with no hesitation and then walked into the living room, flopping back down on the couch. "Hey..." he sighed as his brother picked up the phone, not even letting the older boy get a word in.

"Hey, kid..." Charlie greeted. "I've been tryin' ta call you for a while. You okay?"

Swinging his legs over the edge of the armrest, Race shrugged. "It's been a long day..." he stated vaguely. "I saw Jack... he's doin' okay..."

"I didn't ask about Jack, buddy. I'm askin' about you," Charlie insisted. "How're you?"

Letting his eyes slide shut for a moment, the boy shrugged again. "Al n' I got in a fight t'day... n' he posted a picture a' me n' a boy... n' I'm grounded cause I went ta see Jack by myself n' now I'm tired n' I don't wanna go back ta school 'r work... n' I really miss you," he sighed, beginning to feel his body grow more and more exhausted as the minutes ticked by.

"I miss you more than ya know, pal... I'm sorry you're havin' a tough time..." his brother said sadly. "I gotta be honest though... Al called me ta tell me who you've been seein'..." he admitted. Race made a small squawk of offense before Charlie cut him off. "Hey! I'm not sayin' nothin', I just need ta ask if he's been bein' good ta you. I'm your big brother, it's my job ta look out for ya."

"I know, but-"

"Is he bein' good ta you?" Charlie pushed again.

Biting his lip as he pondered over the question, Race sighed. "Yeah... yeah he is... he's sweet on me, Charlie... I like him... I like him a lot..."

"So? Tell me about him..."

Even with his eyes still closed, Race grinned.

He began to ramble on and on about this bad boy from Brooklyn who had made a complete fool of himself while trying to ask the blond boy to just go on a date with him. He told him about the leather wearing, tattoo covered jock had bought him frozen yogurt and taken him to the mall where they'd met puppies that the older boy melted over.

And Charlie laughed. "Okay... okay... well, I'm happy for you, pal. But if he ever gives you trouble, you tell me. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

"If Jack doesn't get to him first," Race joked, running a hand through his unruly blond curls. "Thanks, Crutch..." he whispered as he saw Denton walk around the couch to face him, telling him that it was time for him to go to bed. "The old man wants me off the phone..."

Denton stuck his tongue out at him. And Race laughed.

Charlie did too. "Okay... well, Goodnight, kiddo... n' Racer?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't shut Albert out... whatever happened... I'm sure he didn't mean ta do what he did, okay? He's your best friend. He loves you..."

Without even thinking much on it, Race nodded. "I know..." he admitted. "Goodnight, Charlie... I love you."

"I love you, Tyler James," Charlie responded. And then he hung up.

Smiling a little easier, Race set the phone aside and looked up at his guardian. "Thank you, Denton," he breathed, looking more than exhausted.

The man nodded. "You're welcome, TJ," he smiled. "Now go to bed."

With a dramatic sigh, Race flung his legs over the front of the couch and stood up, walking over and wrapping his arms around his foster father's chest from behind. "Love ya," he whispered. And then he walked up the stairs to his room and quietly shut the door.

What he didn't know was the joy he'd just placed in his guardian's heart.

"Love you too, buddy..."

—

Albert awoke to the sound of his phone ringing at six AM on Sunday morning. He groaned, not even lifting his face from its place buried in his pillow as he reached for his phone and placed it next to his ear. "What?!"

"Get up. I have coffee, made by Denton. It's time ta go Christmas shoppin'."

"Racer?"

"You have fifteen minutes before I finish pancakes and come get you up myself," he threatened, before hanging up the phone.

Pancakes. Albert sat up quick. Race was already downstairs.

He did as he was told, knowing not to challenge his best friend when he made these kinds of threats, especially not when both of his brothers were hanging out, making breakfast in their kitchen.

The wake up would be brutal.

He was up in seconds, practically barreling down the stairs and into the kitchen where he saw his best friend laughing up at the kitchen island with Albert's four year old niece talking about something with chocolate chip pancakes filling up her mouth. No one understood her. But it sure was entertaining.

"Race..."

The blond boy turned to him, his smile fading just a bit. But Race didn't yell. He didn't scream. He just nodded. "Hey, Albie. I brought you some famous 'Denton coffee'," he offered, grabbing a travel mug off the counter. "And Killian is makin' you pancakes so that we can hit the road soon," he explained easily.

Albert cocked his head to the side, but took the offered coffee. Denton made the best coffee. "Uh... thanks..." he breathed, his voice still rough with sleep.

The slightly taller boy nodded and went to turn back to his pancakes.

But Albert was quick. He rushed forward and embraced his best friend, shocking him for a minute. "I'm so sorry, Race!" he whispered out quick. "I didn't mean ta send no one that picture! I swear! I thought I deleted it n'-"

"Albert, calm down!" Race insisted, pulling out of the embrace. "It's okay... I just... I realized that, you're my best friend... and it would take so much time ta find another one if I killed ya," he joked, pulling away and ducking when Albert swatted at him. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry too! I know you're just tryin' ta look out f'r me, Al. Sometimes it's just... hard..." he admitted with a small shrug.

"How's Jackie doin', Racer?" Killian asked as he flipped over some pancakes on the stove.

"Doin' just fine, man... he's, uh, he's gettin' released in two weeks," he admitted, grinning when Albert gasped at the news. Killian turned around, his face lighting up too. "Yeah, he just told me yesterday. He'll be home for Christmas!"

Albert smiled. It was no wonder Race was so happy all of the sudden. He wasn't complaining. He was sure Race would still be mad at him from time to time. But right now, Race was too happy to angry.

He just wanted it to be Christmas.

"I'm so happy for you, Teej," he said. Race giggled and hugged him again. "We shoppin' for Jack?"

Race nodded. "Yeah... and some others..." he admitted.

"Well then... let's get this show on the road!"

—

Race stood practically bouncing up and down in the light snow as he waited. He'd never smiled so much in his whole life.

Because there, walking towards him, was the very person who'd raised him. The one who'd done everything in his power to make sure he'd be okay.

There was Jack, wearing jeans and a leather jacket that Denton insisted he have. He had one of his old beanies on his head and his old, worn boots. He grinned when his eyes landed on his little brother.

And he started running.

Race couldn't help it. He ran too.

He giggled when they collided and Jack lifted him up off the ground in a bone crushing embrace. "Hey there, baby!" the young man cried, holding the kid close to his chest and walking him back over to Denton's car, the boy's feet dangling just above the asphalt.

He seemed even more physically built than Race had last noticed. He didn't pay much mind to it. He tightened a hand in Jack's hair and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. "Hey, Jackie," he breathed, sobs wanting to rip from his throat. He held them back. They were still in public. He could wait.

He was happy. All he could be was happy.

"I missed you, Tyler James," Jack laughed, setting his boy back on his feet before inspecting him. "Alright, what d'we have here? I see three eyes, one ear, little horns, and... hey, these fangs look new!" he teased, ruffling the boy's hair before planting a kiss on his forehead.

Race just laughed. "I'm exactly how ya left me. Just a little taller," he added, giving Jack a wink. And Jack swooped in to hug him again. Race held fast to him, letting Jack drop quick, loving kisses all over his face and neck. The stubble growing around his big brother's cheeks and chin made it tickle. Race didn't care.

It was made clear quickly how badly Jack wished never to let go of his baby brother. Race never minded that. He was still bouncing. His face was buried in his brother's chest. He couldn't see the tears glistening in the man's eyes.

"Welcome back ta the real world, Jackie," another voice cut it.

Jack looked up from Race's long blond curls to see Albert standing beside the car, smiling contently. Denton was beside him. They all had tears in their eyes. So Jack pecked another kiss to his little brother's temple and lifted him up and over his shoulder. The boy squealed and laughed, just as his foster father and best friend did. Jack grinned, bringing Albert into a side hug. "Hey, little Red! How's it goin', kid?"

"Not too bad, Jackie," he promised. "I don't know how you kept him out of trouble for so long, though," Albert teased. The young man ruffled his hair.

Then Jack moved over to Denton who he immediately shook hands with. "Thank you," was all he was truly able to say.

Denton nodded. "Thank you for raising such a spectacular kid," he shot back.

Nodding and breathing out hard, his breath visible in the cold, Jack gently set his brother down as the tears escaped him. Happy, grateful, relieved tears. Those words had put them there.

Race grinned up at his brother when he was set back on the ground. Jack was looking at him with such pride and wonder all at once. "I love you so much, Tyler," he said again, wanting to cry even more. "So... so much..."

"I love you too, papa-bear," Race teased.

"Well, hey, has everyone forgotten about me?" a voice called from inside the car.

Jack's head shot over to the source. He almost collapsed. "Charlie?!" he cried, rushing over to the door and wrenching it open. The boy was sitting there with tears rushing down his cheeks and a charming grin that shines brighter than the sun. "I thought you couldn't come until-"

"I finished my finals early n' decided, eh I guess I'll go see my big brother," he stated cheekily. "But none a' that standin' out in the snow, shit. It's cold."

Shaking his head, Jack grabbed his brother by the wrist and pulled him closer until he was able to bring him into a proper embrace. The slightly younger boy stood on one leg, the other in a brace. A crutch lie on the ground of the car. Jack didn't pay any mind to it. He just held his brother close.

Race watched the scene in delight, stepping closer to his best friend and letting the redhead sling an arm around his shoulder.

December 22nd. It was Race's favorite day.

It felt like Christmas. It really did.

—

"Hey, Race?"

"Yeah, Al?"

"I'm really sorry f'r... ya know..."

"Outing me to the entire school and all of our coworkers?" Race asked, turning to look at his friend. They both lay over Race's bed, Race sideways one way his feet hanging off the right side of the bed, and Albert the other, with his feet dangling over the left. "Or f'r followin' me ta Brooklyn or basically bein' the stalker we all know you really are?"

Albert grabbed a pillow and hit his friend with him. Race let out a noise of false distress before laughing. "You deserve betta' n' what ya got, ya know?"

"Don't matta'," Race promised. Albert turned his head towards his friend. "I mean... I'm one a' the lucky ones. Throughout everythin'... I always had you... even if we were mad at each otha'," he explained.

Albert nodded as a smile took over his face. "I love ya, my brotha'," he stated as Race sat up and grabbed the Santa hat that lay on his nightstand.

Race put the thing on and turned back to him. "I love you, my Albie!" he whispered before standing up and rounding the bed, extending his hand to the other boy. "Shall we play Santa Claus?"

With a quiet laugh and a nod, Albert accepted. "We shall!"

Together, they bundled up a bag of gifts and tiptoed into the living room.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!" Race whispered into the quiet house.

Albert laughed.

It really was a Merry Christmas after all.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Much love! 

@badthingshappenbingo