"Go ta sleep, Vin," JD whispered. He patted his friend's cheek gently. "Your tummy'll be better in the morning."
He watched as Vin slowly lost the battle to keep his eyes open. "Sing you my sleepy song?" he offered. Vin didn't refuse, and he sang very, very softly, but his high clear voice was the only sound in the warehouse, and it floated out, uncanny in the ghostly darkness.
"Hush lil JD, don't say a word,
Mama's gonna buy you a mockin' bird,
An' if that mockin' bird don' sing
Mama's gonna buy you a di'mon ring.
An' if that di'mon ring don' shine,
Mama's gonna buy you a di'mon mine.
An' if," a sniff broke the words up, "don' pay,
Mama's gonna love us anyway."
Vin was quiet now. When JD petted his face he felt warm, and JD smiled. Vin wasn't cold, that had to be good. Vin hated to be cold.
He leaned down and very, very carefully kissed Vin's tummy where the horrible cut was. "Kiss it better, an' make the boo-boo go away," he whispered. "All better now."
The ritual comforted him. He could pretend that his Mama was just behind him, her hands around him, whispering.
"In the morning," he whispered, as he snuggled down, tucking the blanket around them, "I'll go an' get you something to eat. You'll see. I'm gonna do like you said, and maybe there'll be choc'at milkshake. You like choc'at milkshake. There'll be choc'at milkshake every day in tomorrow, won't there?" Vin made no reply. JD curled carefully beside him, and wrapped his arms around Vin, who didn't move.
His eyes drifted closed.
----
The sun was up. He wriggled a little and snuggled against his friend, enjoying the cosy warmth as sunshine heated the warehouse and their boxes. Their little nest was dark, but the edges of the boxes were sharp, and he could even make out the dim form of Vin curled next to him. He turned over, not remembering until Vin whimpered in his sleep that Vin's tummy had been hurt.
"Stupid kid," he whispered to himself, "Poor Vin, poor Vin." He tucked the blankets carefully around Vin, who moved restlessly and then stilled as he petted his face. Vin was hot as hot could be. Vin moaned softly and JD rested his head on his chest for a moment, stroking his shoulder carefully. "Shhh," he whispered, "ssshhh." Vin needed to sleep, he was sure of that. Vin shouldn't look so old.
A shiver ran through him, and he wondered if Vin was whispering with angels right now, and if he'd remember when he woke up. Because he was going to wake up. Maybe he could tell him the angel's secrets too, and he'd know when Mama was coming back.
His tummy grumbled and he smiled, remembering the promise the previous night. He bounced a little. "I'll be back soon," he said definitely, and nodded, then turned and crawled out of the narrow passageway.
He trotted over to the faucet and carefully washed his hands and face, but nothing would get the grime out of his skin, or from his nails, and he wasn't really interested in trying. He wiped his hands dry on his t-shirt, unconsciously undoing all the good he'd done with the cold water, and headed out.
They'd been to the nearest McDonalds only a week ago, so they couldn't go back there for a while. He frowned as he trotted through the busy noonday streets, trying to remember where they were supposed to go next. They couldn't try this trick often; Vin made him save it for special times, when they had *nothing* else. He wondered if Vin would be cross that he'd tried it, and shook his small head firmly. No, Vin was ill, and he needed medicine. And chocolate milkshake was as good as medicine, Mama had always said. Resolutely, he took the next left, and then a right. This one was so far away, but that made it safe. His feet ached a little and he sighed. They'd had so much fun playing pirates and cowboys and stuff, but Vin couldn't play anymore, and his feet hurt. His tummy rumbled and a bounce entered his step as he smelled the food.
He waited patiently around the corner, peeking out every now and again. Someone laughed at him and said 'boo' as he stuck his head around the corner and he laughed delightedly in response. The person laughed back, and he peeked again, looking for just the right person, or group of people to come past. Not too old, because they'd just get cross. Not too smart, because they would be mean, and call the police. Not too young because they wouldn't have any money. There. He didn't know that the backpacks, grunge clothing and UCD emblazoned on the sweatshirts told most people that these were students at Denver State; all he knew was these were the right kind of people.
He trotted around the corner, a smile on his face, and down the sidewalk, looking back over his shoulder. "Come *on*, Mommy," he called, and then ran a little, one eye on the students, one on the parent that he was pretending to play with. In the crowded street no one could really tell that he didn't have anyone following him. He didn't bother the people who looked at him as though he smelled bad, or the people who shoved him with muttered 'get out the way, you stupid brat'.
The students were smiling too, and he knew it was going to work, and he deliberately looked back just as he caught up to them outside McDonalds, and stumbled over one booted foot. He went flying, skidding on the sidewalk, and burst into tears.
"Oh, hey, little guy, I'm sorry!" The tall boy crouched down by him and lifted him up. JD was careful to keep his head down, and sniffled, rubbing at his skinned knee.
"Hurts!" he pouted, and looked up through his lashes. Vin had told him to look small and sad when he did this, and he had to bite his lip, hard, to stop himself grinning with triumph.
"Just a little scrape, no harm done," the tall boy said and JD nodded doubtfully. "Hey, you know what makes everything better?"
JD shook his head, looking up wide-eyed.
"Milkshake!"
JD's head shot up.
"Thought that might catch your attention." The man held out his hand and JD tentatively reached back. "What kinda milkshake do you think would make a bad knee feel better?"
JD frowned as they walked inside the restaurant, then whispered, "Choc'at?"
"Chocolate? Then chocolate it is, my man!" He ordered a milkshake, and then looked down at the small boy, who looked back, his eyes wide open and mournful. "Hey, would you like some fries? Because you were pretty brave back there."
JD nodded mutely, and the boy grinned, and added fries to the order. When the waitress told him the total he rummaged through half a dozen pockets before he found the full amount in battered bills and a handful of coins. Transaction completed, he handed the bag and the shake to JD, who smiled tremulously up at him, and whispered, "Thank you."
"No worries, little guy." The kid looked around, "Hey, kid, where's your Mom?"
JD gasped, "Mommy!" as though with horror, and ran to the exit, looking both ways, then ran again.
"Kid! Hey! Kid!" The sound of feet dwindled behind him as he dodged the lunchtime crowds, and twisted and turned through the back streets. He smiled, pleased with himself and stopped on a door step to eat his half of the fries and drink his half of the milkshake. It was gorgeous. Hot and salty and greasy; cold and sweet and chocolaty. He savored every single fry until he suddenly realised that they were getting cold, and Vin might like to have them warm. He scrambled to his feet and hurried home.
He'd gone a long way, and by the time he got back to the warehouse the food was cold, the bag tearing in his tight grip. He sneaked in quietly, worried by the cars parked outside, and the sounds of men. He peeked inside and sighed with relief when he couldn't see anyone. He slid in through the broken window, over the newspaper that he and Vin had laid over the glass. He nicked his arm on a stray piece that they'd missed, but just licked at the blood, then slithered slowly and quietly down the stacked boxes to the floor.
He was halfway across the warehouse floor when a movement alerted him to a tall, blond man with his back to him. He stopped dead still. The man was all in black, but his jacket had letters emblazoned across his back.
"Ay, Tee, Eff," JD spelled out softly.
The man whirled instantly, and JD nearly dropped Vin's lunch when he saw a gun pointing at him. Before he could even start to run, the man yelled at him.
"Freeze!"
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms listed herein. I am certainly making no money off of these creative fan tributes to a wonderful, fun show.