time truly divides | tuck everlasting + newsies

ch. 1

Dear Ma,
It seems you are still worried about me after the events of last year, but I assure you (for the thousandth time), I'm fine. I've got it all figured out, I've got a plan! I'm currently on my way to New York, where theres bound to be plenty of new adventures. I'm going to start over and make a new life for myself; make a difference in this world!
I'm trying not to think about Winnie, like you told me too, but it's hard. I think the change of scenery could be the final step to finally moving on! Send my love to Miles and Pa, I'll write again as soon as I settle in.
Love always,
Jesse

He sighed as he reread his letter. In all honesty, things were not as great as Jesse had been letting on. He just didn't want his mother to worry, or anyone else for that matter. After Winnie decided to move on with her life, he had fallen into a deep depression. The one thing he had to look forward to in his never-ending life was gone. His parents had tried and tried, and even Miles made attempts every so often, but it all proved useless. The boy simply lacked the excitement he used to carry in his soul.

Eventually though, things slowly began to return to how it was. Jesse was able to get out of bed and go on adventures, but as normal as it seemed, it wasn't the same. Throughout the day, Jesse carried in as if everything was fine, but at night, everything came crashing down. He felt empty. There was an unshakable sadness settled in his heart.

After many attempts, Jesse had finally convinced his parents that he was well enough to leave. He wanted to start over.

Staring out the window, Jesse could see the faint outline of the city as the train drew closer. A faint smile appeared on his lips. He clutched his suitcase with both hands, ready for his new life to begin.

☆ ★ ☆

It's hard to know for sure, but he thinks he stopped aging around 15.

After his mother packed up their old life and left his father, Thomas had been living in hell.

At first, everything was fine. They found a small apartment in lower Manhattan that his mother payed for with her job as a seamstress. He was doing well in school and was told by many that he had a 'promising future ahead of him'.

Then there was the shooting.

Two opposing gangs had gotten into a violent fight on Thomas's route home from school. He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Without warning, a stray bullet was shot right into Thomas's chest. It should've been fatal.

It should've been, but he was fine.

Of course, he wasn't fine at first. The shot had thrown him off balance causing him to fall to the ground and hit his head. The last thing he heard was his mother's bloodcurdling scream as he drifted out of consciousness.

When he awoke he was in his bedroom. The door was closed yet he could hear the muffled voices of people in the next room. The door creaked open, startling Thomas as he jumped back. There stood his mother, her eyes swollen from crying, holding a metallic tray covered in first aid materials. Her eyes widened and she gasped, bringing her hands up to her mouth and dropping the tray. There was a loud clatter as it hit the floor.

"How the hell are you alive," she whispered, a multitude of emotions going through her head. Thomas stood silent, concerned.

"Is everything alright in there, Edna?" a voice called from the other room.

"Y-yes," She stuttered, not breaking eye contact with her son, "I-I would like to be alone."

"Edna are you sure you-"

"I said leave," She yelled, cutting off the man, " now!"

A shuffle could be heard from the other room as the mourners scrambled to leave, not wanting to face the wrath of a mother who had seemingly lost her only child.

"Mother-" Thomas began, but he was cut off.

"How the hell are you alive?!" She said, her voice raising, "you were shot in the chest! You should be dead!"

Without warning she kicked the tray on the floor, sending it flying towards Thomas. He flinched as the metal made contact with his side. He was too stunned to speak.

His mother took a shaky breath, sliding her back down the wall and to the floor. Her eyes were so wide they looked as if the were about to pop out of her head. In all honesty, Thomas though she looked insane.

He took a a cautious step towards her.

"Get away from me! Get back!" She shrieked. Thomas jumped back, his breaths shallow and his face heavy with confusion.

He warily eyed his mother, who was still sitting on the floor, her head in her hands.

"I can't believe this...you're cursed just like him...y-you're a freak of nature just like your father!" She spat out, looking up to make eye-contact with her only son.

Thomas was more confused than he was hurt by his mothers insults. What did his father have to do with this? And why was his mother so upset that Thomas was alive? Shouldn't she be happy?

His mother shakily stood up, using Thomas's wooden desk to prop herself up. Her thin lips pressed together and her eyebrows furrowed downward.

She grabbed Thomas by his shirt collar, yanking him up to make eye contact with her; he was to stunned to speak.

"I will not," she began, "be the mother of a... whatever you are!"

Thomas swallowed hard, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. He watched as his mother closed her eyes, try to process her thoughts and emotions.

"As far as anyone knows, you are dead, and we will make sure it's stays that way until I can think of a believable excuse to how you could've possibly survived."

She released his collar from her grasp. Thomas stumbled to regain his footing as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

He twisted the brass door handle, but it didn't budge. Thomas pulled on it once more, but it was no use; his mother had locked him in.

Thomas has never been so scared and confused in all his life, not even when his mother inexplicably took him away from his home and his father had he been this dumbfounded.

Though he had little to no idea what was going on, he knew one thing for sure: he was not leaving this room for a very long time.