One Step too Far

Dangers of Pickpockets

By Morning Glory

This is a rewrite of an old fic. Originally published 1-12-02 when I first started writing fanfics. It was supposed to be part of a series called "Secrets Can Kill", but I never got around to finishing it, I don't think I really even started it. Warning there's a bit of fluff and probably mary-sue in there. Like I said it is an old fic rewritten from when I was going through a hard time.

One bruise from walking into a door, one black-eye from a scuffle, one bloody lip, scrape on the cheek, fractured wrist, broken fingers, hand marks around the neck, and numerous injuries that could not be seen, all accidents, all over six months.

Three a.m. the front doors to the lodging house were locked by now, leaving only one way in. The window on the second floor of the newsboys lodging house was always unlocked. Curfew was nine o'clock, but there was a ten minute allowance for tardiness, it takes a little longer when you have to walk everywhere to get around. It was not uncommon for a newsie to be spotted climbing the fire escape in the middle of the night.

Sketches quickly ascended the fire escape only looking down to the street once. She had waited until she knew every one would be asleep, it was later than normal because of the poker game that had taken place between Manhattan and Brooklyn earlier in the evening. Chances were that several of the Brooklyn newsies would be spending the night depending on how late the game had gone. Sketches pushed the window open slowly holding in her breath, as if that would help keep any noises from happening. The last thing she wanted to do was wake any one. Slipping in to the bunkroom she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The moonlight filtered through the windows casting a pale glow across the wooden floor and bunks. Sketches little by little started to make her way over to her bunk, pausing only once when the old floorboard creaked under her weight. Drawing in a breath, once more, she held it until she was sure no one had woken up. A couple sleeping newsies shifted in their bunks mumbling in their sleep, but no one got up.

Thinking she was in the clear Sketches walked smack into the table from the poker game, a table that normally would not be there, causing a tin of marbles to go crashing down to the ground. They scattered across the floor in every direction, the patter of the marbles seemed to echo through the bunkroom. It was just like in every book she had never read, some one trying to sneak around without getting caught, but there is always that one item that falls over. Sketches cursed in Italian under her breath waiting for the effect to her cause.

Racetrack Higgins first newsie up the last newsie asleep sat up groggily in his bunk. He had been in a light sleep and heard the marbles scatter. Race leaned over the edge of his bunk lighting a candle. If there was some one in the bunkroom being able to see the person would be to his advantage. Race noticed Sketches standing frozen in the middle of the bunkroom, next to a tipped over can of marbles. Yawning and blinking the sleep out of his eyes Race slid out of his bunk, "Ain't it a little late to just be gettin' in Sketch?" Race began in the inquisition.

"Callin' the kettle black?" Sketches retorted. There were many a time when Racetrack came back well into the wee morning hours. Sketch kneeled down and began sweeping the marbles up under the glow of the candle light. She figured a morning surprise of tripping over marbles was not a great idea.

Lowering the candle as Race knelt down next to Sketches to help with the marbles. He placed the candle down between the two, and glanced up at his best girl friend, "You okay?" He scooped a couple marbles up quietly dropping them into the tin. Race could have sworn he saw a bruise on her cheek, but he could not tell for sure in the dark.

"I'm fine." Sketches answered softly, her concentration on the marbles, not looking up at Race.

Race cautiously reached over, but drew back slightly when Sketches flinched. He sighed reaching for her chin again directing her face towards the light, "Sketch what happened?" Race did not know if it was just the candlelight casting a darker shadow on her face, but it looked like she had a pretty bad black eye. He could see the pain in her light green eyes.

A quick lie spilled from her lips, as if she had thought of what to say if anyone asked, "I ran in to the Delancey's." Sketches pulled back out of the glow into the shadows. Race could just tell from the tone of her voice and body language that she was lying to him. Without saying anything more the two swept up all the marbles that were visible in the dim light. Race was not going to push Sketches into telling him anything more. She was a closed off person, not wanting to complain or be a bother. This annoyed Race sometimes, but he just let it be, some people had their secrets.

After the marbles were picked up for the most part, Race stood up taking the tin placing it in the middle of the table. He offered a hand up, "Hey, Sketch, if ya ever need to talk about anythin' I'll listen." He gave her a one armed hug before turning back to his bunk.

"Thanks." Sketches said quietly climbing into her bunk. Race watched his friend with worry. Waiting for her to get settled, he leaned over and blew out the candle.

The next morning Sketches was up early. Still exhausted from the night, she had only gotten a couple hours of sleep. Alone in the washroom, she stood before a mirror. Sketch gingerly touched her cheekbone, wincing. It was worse than she thought. In an attempt to hide the shiner, Sketches used some of Gem's stage make-up. The pale powder lightened the dark blue-purple area that marked under her eye. She sighed; it was not enough to hide it. Carefully with a wet cloth she carefully wiped the make-up off.

The faint footsteps of Kloppman could be heard walking up the stairs, the gradually grew louder, until his shouts echoed through the bunkroom, "Time ta carry the banner! Every body up!" Sketches knew that the newsies would be filing in any moment now. She touched her cheek once more with a frown, washing up for the start of the day.

A startled Kid Blink fell out of his bed and hit the floor hard, his head hitting the dresser, "Damn!" He rubbed the back of his head.

Gav's giggles could be heard in the washroom, followed by, "Are you okay?" She extended her hand down to the blond haired boy with the eye patch. The two seemed like the prefect couple. They spent a lot of time together, selling, hanging around the bunkroom, lunch, the two were in love.

"Yeah, I'm used to it by now." He said grabbing her hand for help up. He rubbed his head again, "Ow.." Blink whined.

Gav wrapped her arms around him, "Where does it hurt?" She asked with an impish grin on her face. Gav stood on her toes, kissing Blink's forehead and slowly moving down to his lips.

Spot Conlon, the fearless leader of Brooklyn, rolled out of his temporary bunk in Manhattan. The poker game had lasted well into the night, and Spot did not feel like walking all the way back to Brooklyn. Besides he had a good night at poker, he needed to rub it in a little the next morning, "Get a room why don' cha?" Spot knocked slightly into Blink as he pushed past to the washroom. He spotted Sketches making her way out; the dark mark under her eye attracted his attention. Spot caught her arm before she could slip by him, "What happened?" He examined the shiner; it was a pretty good one.

"Nothing just a fight with the Delancey's." The same rehearsed lie slipped out. However, Sketch had a harder time looking at Spot when she lied. There was something intimidating about him. Suddenly Sketch had taken a deep interest in the grain of the wood, as her eyes were fixed on it. She wanted to tell Race last night, and she wanted to tell Spot right now about Pickpocket and his bad temper. Trapped in her own fear of what Pickpocket might do if she told any one, Sketches kept silent. As much as she wanted to cry out for help, she could not find the voice to do it.

Instantly Spot knew it was not the truth, she had not looked him in the eye when she spoke. He was a bit hurt and annoyed that Sketches would lie to him. Spot cared for Sketches, it was one of the reasons he did not argue with holding the poker games in Manhattan. However, he knew that she had a boyfriend, and he was going to respect that, for now. Spot was not going to ruin any chances he might have with her in the future. Letting her arm go he leaned against the wall blocking her way out, "You've been getting' into a lotta fights lately. It ain't like ya." Spot accused her of lying, "What really happened?"

Sketches looked up at him quickly, seeing that he was concerned. She stepped around him; he did not make a move to stop her. Sketch just was not ready to tell anyone yet. She needed time to find herself and her voice.

Blink and Gav, who still had not made it to the washroom, saw their friend Sketches, "What happened to your eye?" Gav released Blink slipping out of his arms. She made her way to Sketches side.

"Nothing happened!" Sketches just wanted to be left alone, "I jus-" She was about to announce the same lines she had used on Race and Spot to the rest of the bunkroom so everyone would stop with the questions, but she was cut off when Pickpocket entered the room.

"Hey Sketches, you okay?" Pickpocket's tone was full of worry and concern, walking over he put a protective arm around her shoulders pulling her close. Sketch shied away, but Pick's arm had caught her shoulder first. She hoped that no one had seen that.

'How could he pretend that everything is okay?' Sketches thought to her self. She was too afraid to speak up about what had happened. Besides maybe he truly was concerned if she was okay. Pickpocket did say that he loved her, and she still loved him. It was an accident. A few newsies looked at Sketches still on her outburst from moments earlier, "Yeah, yeah…I'm fine."

"Come on Sketch we're gonna be late." Pickpocket smiled warmly, and led her out of the lodging house. She leaned into Pick's arm a little feeling that things just might be alright this time. As they left Spot shot Pickpocket a look that said he knew something was going on between the two. This grated on Pickpocket. Outside he removed his arm from around her, Pickpocket quickly seized her arm tightly pulling her quickly down the street. Once they were far enough from the lodging house, and away from where any of her friends would be by this time, Pickpocket's temper flared, "What didja tell them?" He barked releasing her arm with a small shove.

"I…I didn't say anything." She voice trembled along with the rest of her body. Sketches backed up, cornering her self against a building.

Pickpocket grabbed both of her shoulders tightly, towering over her, "You better not say anything!" He roared. Slamming her back into the wall, Sketches could feel her breath leave her, "You do and it'll be the last thing you say. You're my girl, you understand that?" Pick grabbed her face making sure she was looking at him, "I don't want to see you talking to that Spot Conlon kid from Brooklyn, you got me?" He had seen the kid around the lodging house a lot and perceived him as his only threat.

"Ye-yes." Sketches took in a deep breath finally. Pickpocket let her go now, and she slid to the ground. Sketches could feel the warm salty tears flow down her cheeks. She did not move from where she was, afraid that Pickpocket might hurt her.

With a laugh, shaking his head at her weak display Pickpocket turned to leave. Casting one last look over at her, "Find me when you ain't a mess." That said he walked away.

The lodging house was no emptying. Spot had a lot on his mind, mainly Sketches. He had seen her flinch when Pickpocket put an arm around her. Something was wrong; he just couldn't figure it out. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions without the facts. Walking out onto the streets now, Spot shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He headed over to the distribution office. He could not shake Sketches from his mind no matter how hard he tried. Spot even tried to think about his good night at poker.

Spot watched as the two lovebirds Blink and Gav passed him. The two were joking around happily. Gav stopped suddenly, "Hey, do you hear that?" She inquired. Gav held a finger up to Blink's lips before he could say anything, "It's coming from over there."

Blink heard the faint crying as well, following his girl towards the sound. Blink slowed Gav by the shoulder, but in a protective way, just in case it was a set up or something. She pulled herself from him rushing over to her friend on the sidewalk. Gav knelt down next to Sketches, "Sketch." Gav went to wrap her arms around her, but she quickly stood up, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine…just another fight." Sketches saw Spot approach the group, "Just leave me alone."

Spot watched them and dashed over quickly, "What's going-?" He staggered back a bit watching Sketches rush off. Spot headed towards the distribution office he needed to get to selling, get his mind off of Sketches, though she had just made it harder to do.

Gav stood to follow her, but stopped. She turned to Blink, "Something's wrong Blink. Wouldn't Pickpocket have stopped someone if they tried to hurt her?" Gav was sad to see her friend hurting like that, closing every one off.

"C'mon we can talk to her tonight." Blink pulled his girl closer, rubbing her arm, "Let's get our papes, there ain't much more we can do right now." Gav nodded and the two headed for a long day of selling papers.