In Between 'Hattan and Brooklyn || A Sprace Story

Chapter 89 - "It's Time to Get This Party Started."

- Chapter 89 - It's a Revenge Party (hehehehe thank you to 24frogs for this joke. I'm going to keep saying it) -
Warnings: injuries, drugs, kidnapping, un-fun surprises, evil Revenge, insults, fighting, pain (slight mention of rough times with Stage lol, but don't worry)
Third Person POV

Stars.

Race was seeing stars.

Not the pretty stars he could look at for hours while astrology facts swirled around his brain.

No.

These were the stars he saw when he didn't eat enough or drink enough water and then went to sell.

These were the stars he saw when he had lost too much blood or was too sick to be up and walking.

These were the stars he saw when he definitely should've listened to Albert or Crutchie or Specs or Knobs or someone that he should stay in bed.

The bad kind of stars.

Race didn't feel food.

At all.

He felt like he wanted to puke or pass out.

Plus, it was freezing.

Race didn't mind the cold. In fact, he quite liked the cold. He found comfort in it.

At least he wasn't being burned by his father's cigarettes.

But it felt too cold. The kind of cold that caused you to shiver so much all of your energy was drained, and you hadn't even had much energy to begin with.

All Race wanted to do was to curl onto a bed and cuddle with Spot forever, and it felt disheartening at the least to know he wasn't with Spot.

Race groaned when someone nudged him with their foot. "Go away," he mumbled drowsily.

Barter grimaced. "He's worse off than we thought," he commented.

Impulse rolled his eyes. "He's fine. They didn't even drug him that much," he responded, nudging Race again.

"But they've been drugging him constantly," Scar reminded him, staring down at the boy. "And he's injured and has been losing blood for a week or so now."

What is this? A zoo? Race thought bitterly.

Impulse shrugged. "Oh well. Maybe he should've learned not to escape and to shut his mouth then," he responded, not caring.

"I'm not saying he doesn't deserve the injuries he has," Scar replied. "I'm just pointing out why he is so out of it."

Impulse nodded.

"Well... someone's going to have to pick him up," Barter commented, still staring down at him.

Please, dear God, do not.

Scar rolled his eyes. "I will. It can't be that hard." He bent down and grabbed Race's arm, slinging it over his shoulder.

Race winced in pain. He desperately wanted to shove Scar away, but it felt like it hurt too much to move.