i uh;;;;

Four in the Morning

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Paper spread out around him, pencil in hand and behind his ear. Taking shape on the white, gray and black, stark lines, city buildings and the moon above them. The world is quiet, not quite awake, aside from Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Bruised knuckles, split and bleeding lip, wincing as he tried to quietly clean himself up. Blood falling on the rooftop, softly glowing in the starlight. Black eye blooming, hungry, hurting. The world is spinning around Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Running, breathing hard, terrified. Yelling coming from behind him before he trips, and pain is flaring from his knees and elbows and then from his stomach and head as he curls into a ball, trying to avoid the boots that kept hitting Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Sniffles coming from around him, hurried whispers from bunk to bunk, rats scrabbling across the floor and bugs squirming into his blankets. I stump of a candle lighting his scrap of paper as he drew the horrors of the refuge around him, Jack Kelly awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Planning, scribbling, getting ready to run. Blanket nested around him, candle sputtering and almost dead, almost ready to run. Boys all around him watching him silently, either knowing or guessing what he was planning, while he was Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Frozen on a mattress, back on the roof he knew so well, fists clenched at his side and silent tears running down his cheeks, awake from a nightmare and the knowledge that while it was only a nightmare for him, others were still living it, making him Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Crouching on a fire escape, carefully passing food and water and blankets and clothing through the bars. Whispering instructions on how to hide the supplies he brought, starting and running at the sound of familiar boots on the stairs. Jack Kelly, terrified and doing what he thinks is right, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Once again on his roof, drawings spread out around him, drawings of bunks lined up too close, rats’ noses sticking out, of boys with black eyes and cut faces and ribs showing through their clothing. Rather than crying over nightmares, not sleeping at all. Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Pacing back and forth, mind racing, scared and guilty and alone for the first time in a long time. Guilty of losing his head, of losing his brother and hurting his friends, scared of never getting him back and of being alone on his roof forever, Jack Kelly, terrified, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Lying on a mattress with his best friend next to him, whispering comforts as he cries and shakes, terrified from the same nightmares that wake Jack up. Holding him close and kissing his hair, wishing he could give up anything to not have this reason to be Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning.

Jack Kelly, awake at four in the morning. Looking out at the city, his brother, best friend, next to him, wishing and dreaming together. Wishing to leave, to escape, to run and be free, dreaming of a big moon and a wide river, knowing they won’t ever go, knowing they really are happy where there are, Jack Kelly and his family, awake at four in the morning.

anonymous asked:

Whenever one of them is seriously injured, or worse yet dying, Steve and Tony will pull the other into their lap and softly sing [cry] "You Are My Sunshine" - angsty anon

Why would you

the dash: *fandom drama i completely missed and have zero context for*
me: CHECK OUT THE GUN SHOW