"Pa, Ryan's /alive/!" (Right after Spence discovers Ryan alive.)
NYC - The Tombs - Lower Manhattan
It's noisy in here, in the morning. Bustling, busy; the cells are overcrowded with people. Waiting for bail, waiting for trials; weekends especially tend to be packed and rowdy with people rounded up on a slew of petty charges and unable to be processed until Monday. Jax, at the moment, is seated in one corner of a somewhat crowded cell. He looks pale, a little shaky, dark circles under his eyes where he slumps against the wall. His eyes closed, he might be sleeping -- though at intervals he moves, fingers turning the small knobbly ring on his finger. The thin slabs of bunk mattresses in the cell are all taken up; two other men are vaguely dozing on the floor while another leans against the bars.
-- suddenly the cell is just a little bit more crowded, as one hyperventilating tween appears beside Jax. Spence shoves his hands tighter beneath his arms, gasping shakily between hysterical sobs. "Pa, Ryan's /alive/!" he blurts. "I saw him he was unconscious and Prometheus has him they /took/ him just like they did Matt and /everyone/ thinks he's dead but I /saw/ him!" He sucks in a deep breath and mops his eyes, but the tears just keep coming. "We gotta get him out of there!"
Two of the men on the bunks startle but then just /huff/ and return to their conversation. The one by the entrance is less sanguine -- staring at Spence a long time, iiinching into the corner kind of surreptitiously.
Jax looks up, his fingers curling loosely inward and his eye opening. "Spence -- honey, c'mere, slow down. I don't -- Ryan -- what?"
"Ain't that the one you killed?" one of the men on the bed calls over. The other just snorts.
Jax opens his mouth -- shakes his head. Stretches his hand, up and out toward Spencer. "Spence, I don't think I understand. Where did you see him? When did you see him?"
"Ryan's alive!" Spencer repeats again, still weeping between his words, but managing speech a little more coherently now. "I saw him just now I was at shacharit and I -- I --" He shoots an angry sidely glare at the man who accused Jax, but then forges on. "I just missed him /so bad/ so I /went/, and he was in this white room and unconscious and hooked up to all this machinery but he was /alive!/ Just now!" He strains toward his father's hand, but then takes a hasty step back. "It's true, Pa, I /saw/ him."
Jax drops his hand. Then lifts it again, pressing it to his mouth briefly and then dropping it away to exhale a shuddery breath. "Hooked up to... okay. Okay, sweetie, okay. Have you -- have you told anyone? Have you -- I --" There's a flicker of light around him, brief and wan. His eye darts toward the bars of the cell, his shoulders tightening. His fist tightening. "I can't -- you should." He takes a deep breath, nodding. Slowly. "You should tell Hive. He'll be able to go with you. Find where he is. Okay?"
Spencer shakes his head vehemently. "No, no I came straight here, sorry, I know you can't --" He bites his lower lip hard. "I just -- it just happened." He's flushing very red beneath all the tears now. "Okay. Okay I'll go tell him." He nods -- jerkily and far too many times, though his crying subsides. "I love you, Pa. Shabbat shalom." And then, as abruptly as he appeared, he's gone again.