A/N: hey guys sorry it's been a few. This one's in Nickels POV, there's a big change coming up.
I woke up in my bunk and almost instantly my head clouded with pain. I hadn't remembered what had happened to make me hurt so badly. Then suddenly, it hit me. I had been in The Bronx. With Racetrack. I moaned thinking of the fight, and if he was hurt. Suddenly I heard a crash and Spot and Racetrack ran to my bed. I saw Spot's amazing electric eyes smiling at me.
"Hiya Nic'" He whispered down at me. I smiled, and then all of the pain hit me. I turned to Racetrack, the pain in my head and side was making everything sound far away. It reminded me of my attacker.
"Did you stop him?" I asked slowly. He put his hand on my arm and I realized how cold I felt. He nodded and informed Spot about the fight. Of course Spot was very angry, swore and kicked the bed post, sending me jostling. I kept quiet though as he stormed out swearing his revenge. Race turned to me then.
"How ya feelin' Nic'?" He asked, rubbing my back gently. I closed my eyes to block the pain in my head.
"I hurt, Racetrack. I hurt very badly." I whispered a little annoyed. I was in obvious pain. He let out a deep breath and I turned to him, seeing the pain in his eyes too.
"Did he hurt you too, Race?" I asked suddenly scared. He shook his head fast.
"No, no. I'se just... I'se, it's all me fault Nickel. I shouldn'ta let you'se fight." He said hitting his head on the pole of the bunk bed. I knitted my eyebrows together and looked at him.
"Racetrack do not start on that. I wanted to fight. I just, didn't expect to get hurt like I did. Don't worry about me." I sighed closing my eyes and leaning against his arm. He murmured something unintelligible. I started to weep silently for Spot's sake. He had planned to fight Lank. Even if I was hurt I wanted to be there. I had a strange notion that something would not go right.
Though Spot had left, I still had Racetrack, and he was very good company. I talked to him quietly most of the night. The Brooklyn Newsies had left to continue the celebration at their lodge-house and the boys were quieting down. Race still sat at my bed. We kept our heads close and talked quietly about the day, our lives now and before the Newsies. Before I knew it, I had fallen asleep on Race's shoulder.
I woke with a start to find I had been resting against Race's chest. I pulled away from him quickly, ashamed I had done this. It was a terrible thing to do when I was so close with Spot. He too woke quickly, then looked at me mournfully.
"What is it Racetrack?" I asked slowly. He hugged me gently, rubbing my back. I pulled away from him, glaring.
"Racetrack. What's wrong? I can tell something is amiss." I said crossing my arms. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. Therefore, this couldn't be good.
"I didn't want ta wake you'se. Really. You'se need ta sleep, and tis would just upset ya." He mumbled. A fear crept into my chest.
"What Race? What happened?" I asked panicky. He looked up at me from under his eyelashes with a kind of fear and sadness I hadn't seen in him.
"Spots gone." He whispered. And then, my world changed. It was as if the light had faded from my eyes and the pain from Lank was replaced with a deeper ache, one that was not visible. I gazed at Racetrack without really seeing him. I had thought something was amiss and I had been right.
"Wow. I'se thought you would cry." Racetrack said softly. I got up for the first time in what seemed like days. I moved slowly ignoring Race's warnings and fighting the pain in my side. I groaned and limped my way over to the window and gazed in the direction of Brooklyn.
He was somewhere out there still. I could sense it. I turned back to face Race with I'm sure, a blank stare. I did not know what I was feeling.
"What has happened?" I whispered. He strode across the room and took me into a hug. I did not hug back but stood there limply. I worked hard for him. For Brooklyn. Then he just up and leaves? It was unheard of to be so rude. Race held me at arm's length, not unlike the way Spot did not so many nights ago.
"He got in a fight…and, he was killed." Race whispered. I could not be hearing the truth. That was impossible for him.
"Preposterous. He is incapable of getting injured in a fight. He is the best newsie in all of Brooklyn, Manhattan, The Bronx and Queens. I doubt you could find a fighter at his age or older that could beat him. This must be a mistake." I whispered almost hysterically. Tears pooled in Races eyes and he shook his head.
"It's no mistake Nic'. He went afta Lank. And Lank killed 'im." He said coming closer to me. He reached and wiped a single tear from my cheek. I shook my head fiercely, not worrying about the pain it caused.
I turned from him and faced the window, leaning on the frame for support. Sobs racked my body and pounded my head. He was gone. Why did he go after Lank? Why? He had no reason to. I would have been fine. But now I felt as though I would never recover.
It did not believe he was dead. I thought of my earlier feeling, how I felt I could still sense him. I summed it up to denial, wiped my eyes and turned to Racetrack.
"Well, sir. I feel as if I should be going to work now. Excuse me." I said, doing my best to stride confidently past him. He turned and followed me back to my bunk.
"Why don't we take da day off Nic'? It's already two o'clock. I told the others there was no way I was leavin' you be. I've won enough poker games ta let both of us take a day off." He protested. I stopped pulling out my work clothes and gazed at him. I did not understand why he would fight so hard for me. I meant nothing to him. I could not help him go far in life or get out of this wretched business.
"Why do you do these things for me? Why would you spend your hard earned money to have a day with me? I am practically confined to my bed. What good am I to you?" I voiced angrily. He looked shocked at my words and I regretted them, but still wondered.
"Because Nic'. You is the closest thing to a real best friend I'se has ever had. And Newsies stick together. No matta what. Tha's why you'se knows me real name. William Francis Higgins. And that's why's I know yours. Your full name. And I can pronounce it right even. This is a hard world if you'se got nobody. You need love ta live Nic'. I know that. And I'd fight for you 'til that damn sun goes out cause you is the best chance at life I has." He spat at me.
I was taken aback and stared at him. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning against my bunk. I began to cry silently as I turned from him and knelt by my bed. I lifted the mattress with what strength I could muster and took a blouse and skirt from under it. The outfit was torn and stained, being the one I arrived at the lodge house in. It had been washed so at least it was clean.
I walked slowly into the wash room and slipped into a stall, changing into the dark burgundy pleated skirt and the white blouse I once wore on Sunday strolls. Going to the mirror I attempted to pull my short hair back in a ribbon to no avail.
The face in the mirror was one I recognized but did not know. She had changed so much from the time she went to fetch her mother a paper one autumn morning. And now the boy she grew to love was gone, possibly for good. Another was waiting patiently to take his place but she knew he never could.
I walked into the bunk room to find Race with his head in his hands. I took a deep breath. I had to look put together, like my old self. I was not however, interested in Racetrack. I was, in my own way, betrothed to Spot Conlon. That is, if he was still with us. If not, it was only right to have a mourning period. And it could be very long.
I would never get over missing his fierce, intelligent, expressive, loving eyes. They could make someone think of the coldest ice or the brightest lightning. The deepest oceans or the lightest of skies. They were one of a kind, just as he was. Just as he is. I came to a conclusion then, I believed he was not dead and I would continue to search for him forever if I must.
I sat next to Race on the bunk and cleared my throat lightly. I sat poised and straight like I learned as a child. He glanced up and at the sight of me suddenly looking like a woman again; he stood and whipped off his hat, as I have seen many of the newsies do to other girls. I chuckled lightly and rose gracefully.
"I suspect you have not been on the town with a real woman in quite some time." I started, speaking softly.
"I am not interested in being courted by you at this present time, for many reasons. You know these." I whispered, fighting a heavy weight in my chest from thinking of Spot. He nodded, smiling.
"We really ought ta stay here because you is hurt, but if you'se want we'se can go ta Tibby's. It ain't that far, an we'se can stop a lot if you'se need ta." He said smiling and helping me stand. I nodded my thanks and slowly followed him out of the bunk room. The stairs proved to be a challenge I could hardly face. By the time Racetrack had helped me to the bottom I was winded and had to rest. He rubbed my back gently and whispered in my ear.
"You'se takes all the time ya need Nic'. I'd wait for eternity here wit ya." He said. He was indeed my best friend, but I disliked the talk of eternity. I rose and was determined not to stop until I reached Tibby's.
"We must speak Racetrack." I said quietly when we had ordered. He nodded and leaned closer to hear my quiet words.
"I do not believe Spot to be dead." I said, attempting to keep my poise.
"Nickel, I swear he is. Jack wouldn't lie." He argued. I shooed him off.
"I can tell Race. I know he is still alive. This may sound crazy but I know." I pleated, my voice growing frantic as I saw his disbelief.
"Why do you even love 'im Nickel? All he did was leave you and confuse you and hurt you. The King of Brooklyn has no heart. I was one of his closest friends. I should know. You found him again and he might have said he loves you. Might have said he had to be cold and distant but didn't want to. Have you ever thought he might do this to countless girls? Did you think you was different? Cause he does this to everyone. You were no different." He spat at me, fury in his eyes. I've never seen Racetrack mad at anyone before and now as I was all dolled up and having supper with him, his fury was directed at me.
I gasped as tears began to fall down my cheeks. I rose, looked at him once more and fled to the street where I could manage to run a block but then collapsed onto the side walk exhausted, and hurting. I have now maybe lost my love and my best friend.
I sobbed, attempting to lift myself until strong hands grabbed my torso and lifted me to my feet. I stumbled and was caught by a pair of strong arms.
"I don't know how many times I'm going to have to save you." Racetrack said looking down at me. I pushed away from him, stumbled but kept my balance.
"You leave me alone William!" I shouted at him. No one was going to speak to me like that. Spot loves me and I know it as fact. The use of his real name stopped him short. He looked torn but gazed at me sadly.
"You go find Spot if he's really still alive. You find him and tell me if what I said isn't true. You'll see who would really take care of you and love you." He said and began to take my arm. I pulled away from him questioning what he was doing.
"I still has to escort you home ya know. There's no way in Hell I'm leaving you alone in the streets when you is so hurt." He said with a sad but determined look on his face. I did not let him take my arm, and I did not speak to him, but I let him escort me back to the lodge house where I spent the rest of my evening gazing out the window searching the same streets and faces endlessly.
A/N: Thanks for reading you guys, obviously both Race and Nickel are rather…conflicted in this one. More soon!