This story is based around the through that what is Bullseye had run off instead of alerting the townspeople about Nancy's murder. It is based mainly off the 1968 film. I do not own Oliver or anything related to it. This is for enjoyment purposes only.
Oliver Twist belongs to Charles Dickens
Oliver! belongs to Lionel Bart
Tattered
"Fagin! Fagin!" Charley called out as he burst in through the door to the Thieves' Kitchen. The old man looked up from his cooking and faced the boy. "Charley, why are ya back 'ere! Yer supposed ta be workin!" he scolded. The boy rushed over to the man, out of breath, "Fagin, Fagin I found Dodge!" The blonde's face was covered in happy tears, but worry was in his eyes. Fagin stood up quickly and poked his fork at Charley. "What!" he shouted, "No no no! Ya weren't supposed ta go lookin fer 'im!" The boy looked up to the geezer with a confused look. What the hell was wrong with him? Fagin, realizing his mistake tried to cover by then adding, "Charley, ya could 'ave gotten 'urt! Never go after Bill Sykes by yerself! Why didn't ya ask me ta go wit'cha!" He prodded the toasting fork into the boy's chest. Dammit dammit dammit. Did Bill see him? Was Bill going to come back for retribution? Did Dodger want to come back? Was he upset? Was he… alive?
"Charley, 'ow is Dodger? Is 'e… alright?" the old man asked genuinely. Charley bit his lip and looked away, "Bruises, 'e 'ad bruises all over 'is belly. Didn't seem right at all. Wasn't 'imself…" Fagin sighed heavily and patted the blonde on the head. "Charley my dear, I'm going ta tell ya a secret. Ya 'ave ta promise that ya won't tell nobody." The boy nodded. Fagin took the boy by the shoulder and sat him down on one of the benches. "Charley… I gave Dodger ta Bill," he explained. The boy's face was filled with shock, he opened his mouth to reply but Fagin shushed him. "I 'ad ta. We wouldda starved otherwise! Bill got rid of all my debt in exchange fer Dodge. Ya 'ave ta understand my dear. I did it fer you boys!" Bates stood up silently. He turned to Fagin and slapped the man across the face with his small hand. How could he do such a thing! He trusted him! Dodger trusted him! How could he just go and barter him away? They'd been getting along just fine! Sure they may go hungry for a few days, but it wasn't something they weren't used to. The man sat silent and shocked. Angry tears built up in Charley's eye, "'Ow could you do that Fagin! 'Ow could ya do that ta Dodge! Ta Dodger! Why didn't ya just give 'im Oliver? We don't need 'im!" Fagin slammed his fist down on the bench and turned to Charley shouting, "Because 'e wanted Dodger!" He grabbed the boy's shoulder and shook him a few times before pushing him away. "Bill will take care'uh 'im. Teach 'im ta be an even better thief 'e will!" the old man said, trying to redeem himself. The thoughts in Charley's mind were conflicted. He wanted to go back and rescue his mate, but then again, what if Bill was there? Heck, even just finding Dodger would probably get the poor gent a beating. The boy walked over to his cot and sat down. His eyes were fixed at the floor. Fagin, knowing how upset the boy was, went and sat down next to him. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Charley… 'e would 'ave just taken 'im by force if I didn't give 'im away. Saved Dodge a struggle."
Charley just couldn't handle it anymore. He just needed to get out and get his mind off the whole situation. He was just so angry and upset with Fagin, but still so happy that Dodger was alright. His mind didn't want to work right. "I'm goin out Fagin," he said sharply. The man nodded without a word. He understood what Charley was going through. The boy stood up and stormed off out the door. Outside waiting was Bullseye. Seemed he had taken a liking to following Charley around. Patting the dog on the head lightly the boy went back off into the streets of London to meet up with his other companions. He had to tell them what happened… but he couldn't. God, it was going to be hard for him to keep his mouth shut...
"So Jacky, did 'e come ta rescue ya like some 'ero?" Bill chuckled while he took a large swig of gin. Dodger did not reply. Bill looked over his shoulder to the boy laying on the ground behind him and laughed again, obviously a bit drunk. Really, Dodger just wanted to sleep, but a few minutes after Charley had ran out, Sykes had pulled out the drinks. Damn bastard didn't even ask Dodger if he wanted any. He couldn't fall asleep because of the man's drunken bumbling. "Oi Jacky, whot, whot-chu think'uh Nancy eh? Did'ja like 'er? Whot did she say 'bout me?" he slurred. The boy still stayed quiet. He didn't want to say or do anything that might send Bill into a drunken rage. Out of all the rages, drunken was the worst. The man fumbled out of his chair and went over to Dodger.
He plopped himself down beside the boy and handed him the half filled mug of gin from his hand. The boy looked suspiciously at Bill for a moment before his thirst got the best of him. He quickly grabbed the mug and poured the liquid down his throat in a few gulps. Sykes smiled and cracked up with laughter. He rubbed the boy's head and exclaimed, "Yer gonna be a dirty little drunk if ya keep that up ya will! Hah!" Dodger wiped his mouth and handed the mug back to the man. Sykes took the mug and reached up at the table for the bottle. Finding it, he brought it down and refilled the empty container. Taking a quick swig, he gave the mug back to Dodger, "Go on then Jacky, drink as much as ya like." Ok, this was weird. The man must have been drunk off his ass. Dodger took a small sip then looked to Bill. He found the man staring at his face with glazed over eyes and a grin. The boy scooted away. Sykes raised up his hand, at the gesture the boy cowered.
Instead of beating the boy, the man instead touched his soft cheek. Dodger looked to the man with confusion. "Y'know… ya remind me a lot of Nance…" Bill mumbled softly, "Yer both strong… independent… yeah, and stubborn too." He chuckled. Dodger's eyes glanced around. Well, this was quite an awkward situation now wasn't it? "Bill, yer drunk," he stated, pushing the man away with an elbow. Bill resisted, "Naw, I feel fine! Yer just like Nancy! Always tellin me when I need ta… ta stop drinkin." He leaned in close to the boy's face. The stench of alcohol flooded Dodge's nose. He cringed and pushed himself further away. This only resulted in Bill getting closer as well. "Why, why ya runnin away? Don't run away from me… I, I love ya…Nance," he muttered as his eyes began to droop. He mouthed a few more indecipherable words before falling down on Dodger's lap unconscious. The boy was a bit surprised to say the least. He looked around in a panic. What was he supposed to do! He sat the mug of gin on the floor and did his best to push the large man off of his legs. Why was it that the drunker someone was, the heavier and more difficult they were to move? Dodger struggled to get the man off of him, but the pain running through his chest caused him to stop. Dammit, he was going to have to sleep with this big smelly lug on top of him wasn't he? This required more gin. Dodger picked up the mug and chugged down the rest of its contents. He reached for the bottle and went to pour it into the mug. He then shrugged and tossed the mug aside, finding it much easier just to drink from the bottle. He took swigs from the bottle until he felt sleepy, then he took a few more. He went to drink from it again, but found he had emptied it. Grumbling he sat the bottle aside and laid down. His eyes were soon closed and his mind drifted off into the land of sleep.
