Thanks to those of you reviewed for chapter 14!
elleestJenn
MushSpotgoil
chaoticmom
smallncrazy91
Cassidy
Nichole
Eavis
LivingByWill
XxxEFreakxxX
Royal shadow1
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0xlittlexmissxsunshinex0
Sassafras
(7/10/11)
The chapter has been edited... sorta. Please tell me if you see any kind of mistake whether it be grammar, spelling, or even a geographical one. I don't have a beta reading over the chapters so any problems you may see is all on me. I'd rather get it fixed quickly then let someone read a story with tons of mistakes.
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Chapter Fourteen - Who touched 'er?
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Spot shifted, and the sleeping girl leaning against him snuggled more deeply into his embrace. She pulled her knees more tightly to her chest, cradling her injured hand close to her body. The ratty stuffed rabbit she had been holding was now loosely set on his lap, and Spot fingered its floppy ears. The newsie stroked the fingers of his other hand across her cheek, gently moving aside a lock of hair to brush it behind her ear. She stayed still, her silent breaths puffing across his neck.
Madeline had started talking, and it terrified Spot to know that the reason was because of a horrid incident. He had learned of her past from Racetrack, the loudmouth that he was, and only wanted her to talk as soon as she was ready. After hearing her speak for the first time, he knew she hadn't been ready. That her fear had forced the sounds out of her.
"Don't leave me."
Those soft spoken words coming from an uneven, cracked voice had surprised the hell out of him. He'd almost believed there had been another person hiding somewhere in the small room. He had turned his head and saw only Madeline looking back at him pitifully, the bruise on her face standing out on her pale skin.
"Don't leave me, Spot."
Her lips had barely moved, barely opened. It was almost as if she hadn't spoken at all. Spot knew though, that the unused voice had been hers. That she was pleading with him to never leave her. So he didn't.
As they gathered up some of the things Madeline had wanted, she stuck to his side like they were attached at the hip. Every time he turned to pick something up from the floor, she was there, huddled to his side and clutching at her belongings. When he moved to leave the room, her good hand was immediately fastened around his forearm.
"What's through dis door, Maddie?"
"...She's gone."
"Who's gone, Madeline? Misty...or Sara?"
"Both. He's taken her. She's gone."
"Who's taken her?"
"Him. From here."
"Is dis...is dis Misty's room?"
She was quiet after the question was asked and Spot had taken her silence as a yes.
"Is dere anythin dat you'se wants from in 'ere?"
Madeline kissed the rabbits head and them moved it to rub along her jawline, her eyes closing and her eyelashes lying softly on the tops of her cheeks.
"Please don't open the door. I don't want to see."
And so they moved on. She hadn't needed much, just a few articles of clothing and her drawings were what they mostly carried.
"I don't want this," she had said as she gazed at the broken dishes on the kitchen floor. "It won't do me any good."
It was after that that they had left the apartment, leaving the door hanging on one hinge swinging shut.
Spot breathed in deeply and then let it out slowly. Madeline most likely wouldn't ever go back to where her aunt was murdered, he surmised, so he needed to figure out where she would go. She could, of course, go live with him in Brooklyn. That would mean they would have to take the long trek across the busy bridge to reach it, and Spot had a feeling that Maddie wouldn't want to be around a lot of people at the moment.
They could go at night. He quickly disregarded that thought as fast as it had come up due to the potential danger of being outside in the darkness. Open for any attack from drunks or warring boroughs. Not that there were any boroughs showing hostility towards each other because of the strike. Well, with the exception of Midtown. Shredder was getting to handsy for his own good.
And where was Misty? Maddie had said, "He's taken her." Who was he and where had he taken the young girl. Spot had searched the apartment, there was no one else there besides the body of the girls' aunt.
"He's coming back. Please don't let me be here when he gets back."
"How do you'se knows he's comin back?"
"...He said he would. He doesn't break his promises... That's why he's here."
"Here?"
"New York."
The door to the Lodging House was shoved open and it slammed against the wall, knocking Spot away from the memory of Madeline's words. Loud, upset voices rang through the room and Spot cringed as Madeline stirred. He gently moved her off him and rose, laying her on her side on the sofa. He set the rabbit, Knots was what she had called it, down into her arms. She twisted around to face the back of the couch and Spot turned to the hoard of newsboys entering the room.
"Be quiet!"
Bumlets and Jake, who were halfway across the room towards him, froze as soon as they saw Spot standing next to a restless Madeline. They immediately turned to the rest of the teenagers and young boys storming through the door and quieted them down. Madeline whimpered in her sleep and Spot kneeled down to rub along her spine.
"All I'm saying is, we need to get him out of there as soon as-"
Somebody slapped a hand over the rest of David Jacobs' furious words. Racetrack pushed the teenager away from the door so he could find out why Swifty had silenced him. He took a glance around the room at the boys shuffling nervously before his eyes landed on the pile of miscellaneous items by the sofa. They drifted past the ugly print of the fabric and settled on the newsie soothing a sleeping Madeline.
Racetrack's mind jumped from worrying about Jack, to worrying about Madeline, Misty, and aunt Sara.
"Shit, I completely fergot. What 'appened?"
Spot put a finger over his lips to indicate to Racetrack that he needed to quiet his voice. Maddie whined in her sleep and the fingers of her uninjured hand clenched. Spot could see her fingernails dig into the skin of her palm. He ran his hand down her back one last time, sighing in relief as she relaxed slightly, and stood.
"Nobody touch 'er," he muttered quietly to the boys shuffling around the room apprehensively. "Racetrack, Mouth, follow me."
David and Racetrack crossed the room to comply to Spots request. They softly took the stairs up towards the bunk room. With one last glance down at Madeline over the second floor railing, Spot closed the door and swiveled around to the two newsies.
The short Italian took no time in opening his mouth. "What 'appened?"
Spot ran his hand over his face and studied the newsie in front of him. Racetrack looked weary and his dark eyes tired. His face looked better from earlier this morning, but the bruise around his eye was still visible.
"I remember Patches sayin somethin 'bout a lot of blood-"
"Blood!" David interrupted, swinging his head from Racetrack to Spot and back. "What do you mean blood?"
Spot would have rolled his eyes at David's hysterics, but he understood the feeling when the phrase 'a lot of blood' came up in a conversation. He silently wandered past the two, shouldering a wide eyed David aside to sit on one of the lower bunks. There was a sketch of a freshly baked pie, the steam frozen on the paper, nailed to the wall above his head. According to the drawing, which was obviously penciled by Madeline, this was Pie Eater's bed.
"Is Sara really de-..." Racetrack couldn't find it in himself to finish the sentence.
Spot slouched down and held his head in his hands. His fingers ran through his hair before he finally nodded.
Racetrack's breath caught in his throat. "Aw jeez."
David hesitantly took a step towards Spot. "Do you mean Madeline's aunt?"
Neither of the other two newsies answered his question. The gambler stumbled over his feet and landed next to Spot. He sat silently for a moment before jumping back up. "Where's Misty? Did you'se see 'er at all? Is she ok?"
Spot cleared his throat uncomfortably and his mouth tried to form words, but couldn't.
Racetrack took his muted response as bad news. "Damn it! What 'appened?"
The Brooklynite stood, becoming frustrated. "I'se 'ave no idea. Maddie won't say nothin othah den somethin 'bout a man takin 'er. She," He hesitated. "Talked."
"Wait, hold up! She's talkin?"
"Madeline spoke?"
"Yeah, but not undah good cir-circum-"
"Circumstances."
"Dat's it, thanks, Davey."
"So she's talkin, an dat's not a good thing?"
"No, it ain't."
"Why not?"
"Racetrack, you'se didn't see 'er when I got ta 'er 'partment. Two of 'er fingers ah broken, Race, broken. Misty's missing an 'er aunt is dead."
Spot started pacing back and forth while David took a seat next to Racetrack. "Is she alright? Does she need to see a doctor?"
"She's fine fa now, Kloppman took care of 'er. But..."
Racetrack raised his head and quickly inquired, "But?"
Spot paused his step and swallowed hard. "Da man dat did dis ta 'er did somethin else, an it's bad."
It took only a few seconds for both Racetrack and David to get the hidden meaning and then it was completely silent. Spot started pacing once again, his foot occasionally catching on an uneven floorboard or somebody's loose shirt.
David couldn't handle more then three minutes of nobody talking. "Denton didn't get the Sun to print the article."
Spot briefly wavered before continuing on.
Racetrack shook his head. "Dat's somethin else ta get angry 'bout now. 'Parrently da rally nevah 'appened."
"Whaddya mean it nevah 'appened? We was dere!"
"Yeah, dat's what I'se said. Denton rattled somethin off 'bout da papah, I'se didn't really listen since I'se had me mind stuck on da rally 'not 'appening'," Racetrack said this almost sarcastically.
"Denton's going back to doing the job he had before. Apparently a war over seas is more important then street rats striking on home turf," David sounded slightly defeated.
"But now we'se gots somethin else ta worry 'bout," Racetrack announced.
Spot stopped moving and leaned against the leg post of the bunk in front of them. "What is it?"
"Jack's practically become a prisoner at the Refuge, he has to stay there till he's twenty-one."
Racetrack carried on for David. "An we'se is bustin 'im out tanight."
The Brooklyn newsie blew out a fast breath. "Den we'se needs ta figure out a plan. Any idea-"
A blood curdling scream echoed from downstairs. The three exchanged glances before trying to get out the door at the same time. The scream was emitted again and Spot shoved the two aside to get out the door first. He hurdled past the kids staring through the railing on the staircase and thundered down the stairs, almost tripping down the last one. He hastily glanced around the room.
Mush sat on the floor with a surprised look on his face, looking as if he had been knocked backwards. Skittery was leaning over Mush's fallen form with his hands spread out in a calming gesture. He was making soothing sounds from the back of his throat. He wasn't trying to calm Mush down, but someone else. Someone who was curled up on the floor by the side of the couch.
Spot rushed forward, pushing newsies away to reach her. "Who touched 'er?"
Skittery backed up and Mush, still lying on the floor, immediately lifted his hand to point across the room at Kid Blink. The boy in question gave an aggravated sigh, rolled his one eye, and walked over to smack Mush's hand down.
"Idiot," he muttered while helping his best friend up. "He touched 'er, Spot, not me."
Mush gave an indignant huff and crossed his arms.
Spot grit his teeth. "I'se thought I'se told everybody not ta touch 'er."
"We'se weren't 'ere when you'se said dat, so when she started thrashin in 'er sleep-"
"He decided it would be best ta wake 'er up," Kid Blink finished Mush's sentence.
"How did she end up on da floor?"
The newsies around the room glanced at each other.
"How did she end up on da floor?" Spot growled out.
"She sorta... freaked out when Mush shook 'er 'wake," Skittery finally declared. "She scrambled ta get off da sofa ann fell backwards off da arm of it."
Spot composed himself before getting a good look at Madeline. When he had come into view she had settled down slightly, but her eyes were still wide and her breathing ragged and rough. She was in pain, he took notice, because her arms were cradled against herself and she winced every few seconds. She was also whimpering.
"Maddie-"
"He's coming back. Soon."
There were gasps from behind him and Spot shook his hand behind his back at the boys to be quiet.
"Who's comin back?"
She closed her eyes tightly and licked at the scab on her bottom lip.
"Robert... My-my step-father."