Imagine Jack Helping You out of an Abusive Home

                                    

                                          
"Thank you, mister," you say to the man who just bought your last pape. You wish you could snatch it back from him. The longer you aren't at home, the better. 
Sighing, you start the long trudge home. You instinctually stay in the shadows and avoid the street corners you know your friends sell on. You don't want them getting suspicious of all of the cuts and bruises you've acquired overnight. You succeeded in avoiding them this morning and are hoping to do so again in the fading evening light.
"Hey, (y/n)!" Jack's voice calls from behind you. "Where you runnin' off to?"
You stop and slowly turn around, thankful that the street is now mostly in shadow. "I'm going home, Jack. You know my uncle wants me home before dark."
"But we's eatin' at Jacobi's tonight!" Jack protests. "Maybe I could go home with ya an' ask him if you could go with us."
"No!" you quickly cry. You force yourself to speak calmly again. "No, Jack. He wouldn't like that."
"Well, at least let me walk ya home?" Jack asks. "I haven't seen ya all day."
"Alright," you give in. It's dark enough now that he shouldn't be able to see your face.
"How many you sell today?" Jack asks as you begin walking.
"All fifty," you reply. "You?"
"All hundred of 'em, as usual. Though today was harder than most to get rid of them," he admits. "But there was this lady-" He cuts off sharply, staring in shock at you.
You hadn't noticed that you were walking next to a brightly lit store window. Too late, you turn your face away from him.
"Where'd you get that shiner?" Jack asks, referring to your black eye, mercifully not commenting on the cuts. You open your mouth to explain, but quickly snap it shut in surprise when he says, "And don't lie to me. I know the Delanceys didn't do all this to you." 
The Delancey brothers had been your excuse the last time Jack had noticed that you were beat up. Finally, the truth comes pouring out.
"Last night was really bad, Jack," you admit, throat tightening. "I..."
"Your uncle?" Jack asks softly. You nod. A short silence follows. "You ain't going back there."
"Jack, I have to!" you insist.
"No, ya don't! I'm not gonna let him do this to you again!" Jack cries, jumping in front of you and putting both of his hands on your shoulders.
"Where would I go, Jack?" you ask. You are desperate to be free but feel so trapped.
"You can stay with us," Jack answers. "There's lots of girlsies that stay with us. You ain't going back to your uncle's. We'll protect you, (y/n). He won't ever hurt ya again."
Tears start to flow as you nod your consent. Completely relieved, you hug Jack. He has saved you. Jack has set you free.