Disclaimer: Written as a song ficlet request from my girl Fighter. Newsies is not mine. It belongs to Disney. The song is not mine, that belongs to Hoobastank. Fighter belongs to herself.

Please R&R

The Reason by: Script


I'm not a perfect person
As many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I really didn't mean to do it.

Honest.

I would never intentionally hurt her.

Honest.

So then why couldn't I seem to be able to stay faithful to her?

"Fi – Fightah, com'on, jist lemme explain –"

"Spot, no. I don't wanna hear it, ok? I'm sick of your stupid excuses. I've had it." Fighter pushed past me and stood by the window, arms folded over her chest as she stared down at the Brooklyn streets below. She had that look on her face – furrowed brow, that perfect mouth of hers turned downwards, eyes glazed over with anger and confusion and something else. It was the look she always got when she was hurt – when I hurt her – and I knew she was forcing herself not to cry. She never cried in front of me.

Ever.

I stood a few paces behind her, willing her to turn around and look at me. "Fightah, please. I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to – "Fighter turned on me then, eyes flashing angrily. She was different this time around; harsher.

And I deserved every bit of it.

"Didn't mean to what, Conlon? Didn't mean to cheat on me, or didn't mean to get caught – again?"

"Fi –"

"Stop it, Spot, just stop. I don't care anymore, ok? I don't care. You can sleep around with whatevah floozy ya want; I don't give a shit. I'm done."

"Done? Fi, com'on, we can work this out. I swear I won't –"Fighter shook her head at me, pulling her fingers roughly through her hair as she walked past me again to sit on the bed. She looked...resigned.

"No, Spot. No. 'Cheat me once, shame on you. Cheat me twice, shame on me.' Cheat me three times, just throw me over the fucking Bridge and drown me in the East River." She bit her lip and looked down at her lap as she clenched and unclenched her fists into the sheets.

I realized then that I'd hurt her one too many times.

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I had to tell her; had to explain to her just how I felt. Fighter was the greatest thing that had ever happened to me, but you'd never know it the way I treated her.

So strong.

She was so strong in everything she did. She had a mouth on her like no other girl I'd ever met and she never backed down from a fight. That's what was so great about her. She could hold her own. I didn't see Fighter as just some other prissy girl who needed a Knight in Shining Armor to baby-sit her all the time. I saw her as an equal.

My equal.

She was gorgeous and bitchy and tough as nails. She was perfect for me.

My other half.

So it didn't make sense to anyone when I cheated on her the first time; or the second. But she'd forgiven me. She yelled at me, thrown things at me, threatened to cut off my balls and mail them to Tibet.

Then she'd given me the best make-up sex of all time.

And both times I had perfectly valid excuses for why I strayed...

No I didn't.

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears

"Jist – jist tell me why, Spot. Tell me why I'm not good enough for you and then I'll leave you alone and you never have to worry about me again."

"Fightah, that ain't it," I sighed and tugged my fingers through my hair. I needed a haircut. I didn't know how I was supposed to tell her the truth.

The Truth. I'd never told her the truth before; always "improving" it. I had lied so much, I was starting to forget what the truth actually was.

But I hadn't forgotten. I had always known. I had always known I loved her. Had always known that all I ever wanted to do was hear her laugh, hold her hand, protect her and worship her and do all the things she deserved.

She deserved so much better than me.

Here she was, thinking it was her fault, that she was the one who wasn't good enough for me. But the Truth was – I wasn't good enough for her. How could I ever tell her that? How would she ever understand that my whole life was a joke; everything people thought I was, was really what I showed them to keep up appearances. I had a reputation to maintain. I thought my reputation was everything. But the Truth was, Fighter was the only thing that ever really mattered to me. The Truth was that saving my own ass meant hurting the one person who ever really saw me – Gabe Conlon. Not Spot. Gabe. Me.

The Truth.

Funny thing, that.

That's why I need you to hear
I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You

"Fi, please. Jist...jist gimme a minute to explain. Come on, Fightah, ya can't jist walk out like this." She was already headed towards the door. She threw her hair up into a hasty bun and shoved it beneath her hat.
"Spot, jist shut it, all right? I'm through listening to your damn 'explanations!'"
"Fightah! Please! I love you!"

I love you.

She stopped in mid-reach for the doorknob. She stood there, still and silent, before turning slowly to face me. I sucked in a breath when I met her eyes.

She was crying.

"You love me? You love me?!" She let out an awkward laugh as she angrily wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe you, I cannot believe you! You cheat on me, you lie to me, to my face, and then you have the fucking gall to tell me you love me?!" She shook her head, not bothering to hide her tears as she barked out another horrible laugh. "You bastard. You God damned bastard."
"Fi –"
"No." She looked me in my face and pursed her lips together. "No. No more."

I was losing her. I'd already lost her.

"Fightah, please, please don't leave me like this. I – I can change," when she let out another angry laugh I moved closer to her, taking her by her shoulders. "I can, I swear. I know I've been lousy to ya, but jist gimme one more chance. Jist one more chance, please. I love you. I know ya don't believe me, but I do."
"Spot," she looked up into my face, meeting my eyes. She always did that when she wanted me to really listen.

I rarely did.

"Spot, I – I love you too," she started to tear up again, her blue eyes like sapphire ice against her light complexion. "But that's not enough. That's not enough anymore. I've always loved you, Spot, but I can't keep doing this. I can't let you hurt me anymore." She took a step back away from me, moving my hands off of her arms. "I won't let you hurt me anymore, Spot." She shook her head, then turned and headed to the door. I felt like I was watching everything in slow motion – the door opening, her stepping out; her leaving.

She never looked back.

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you

I saw her, a few weeks later. She'd moved to Manhattan, staying in the lodging house, selling with the boys. A few of my Birds had seen her, standing at the end of the Manhattan side of the Bridge, looking towards Brooklyn. But she never crossed.

She left me. She had every right to. And I let her. But I was glad I did. She deserved – deserves – so much better than I was ever giving her. But I wasn't lying when I told her I'd change; that I'd change for her. I was working really hard on being a better person, on treating people better, on keeping away from other girls.

There was always ever only one girl for me.

And I was going to get her back. Whatever it took, I'd get her back. And I'd deserve her. This time, I'd deserve to have her. I love her.

I love you.

Honest.