Hey all. Just another little something between my favorite newsies. I'm not really happy with the ending. It feels like it needs something but I rewrote it about 27 times and it ended up exactly like I started. Oh well. All mistakes are my own. Also, I can't even begin to figure out how to write their accents so just pretend it sounds right. :)
Disclaimer: I own them only in my head.
Pairing: Sprace
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Two figures stumbled up the darkened stairway, one leaning heavily on the other. They made their way noisily down a hallway to a deserted room with only a bed in the far corner.
The taller of the two let the other fall slowly to the bed, making sure no more damage was done. He stepped back from the body and began to pace the length of the room.
"Why do you always do this?" he asked.
"Do what?" The other voice was obscured by a rag held over a bloody lip.
"You mouth off and you know what's gonna to happen." He continued to pace around the room, swinging his cane at imaginary attackers. "You just don't know when to keep your mouth shut."
"Everything I said was true," he defended.
"I'm not saying it wasn't," the other said coming to sit beside the horizontal form. "I'm saying you gotta be quiet for your own good. One day they won't stop."
"Aww Spot. I didn't know you cared," he said sitting up with a small grin.
He did not get a grin in return. The look he received was hard as stone. He had hit too close to home and he knew it.
A hand came up to touch the side of his face that was bruised and broken. A little pressure on the bruise caused him to wince, and then the touch became softer.
Eyes held, both unsure how they had gotten here and unsure where they would go. They could return to their previous lives and be safe in their comfortable, if separate, existences. They could go forward into the unfamiliar, not knowing where the road would lead, but walking side by side.
A sudden noise from downstairs broke the spell and as quickly as it had begun, the moment was over. The hand dropped and the eyes turned away. He quickly got to his feet and walked to the door, his cane gripped tightly at his side.
"Get your mouth under control," he said without looking in his direction. "I won't always be there to save you."
As he walked out the door he couldn't help but wonder if his words were a warning or a lament.
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