MANHATTAN - 1899
After the dramatic breakdown — if one could even call it that — Muggs headed back to his place on Water Street, ignoring Grim's urging to stay with Colleen.
But Muggs couldn't or wouldn't — Jack didn't know which.
It was like his moment of clarity never happened. Shortly after he started crying, the tears just stopped. Like a faucet shutting off. And he pulled himself away from Grim, stone-faced. He mumbled something about finding cocaine.
And then he was gone. It was all very strange.
Jack went back inside to find Dr. Fuller on his way out, saying he'd be back in the morning. So, Doc took charge again and said he'd stay the night in case anything happened.
Alexei looked miserable in his deep contemplation, deciding whether it was best to hang around or go home. Both would be unpleasant, he decided. And he didn't want to stay at the lodging house anymore, what with all the rules.
Jack didn't mention anything about what he'd witnessed outside.
When Jack asked if Muggs would come back to check on Colleen, Alexei wasn't hopeful. He said Muggs wouldn't be sober enough.
A month before Muggs and Alexei were sent to the Refuge in 1897, Colleen got carted off first for picking pockets. When Muggs learned she'd been sent to Randall's Island, he told Alexei he wanted to forget he even had a sister, even if only for a night.
So, the two snorted cocaine, took shots of whiskey at the dive below their den, and smoked a bowl of opium — all in the same bender. Now completely hopped up, Muggs had made out with nine different women that night, plus Alexei at one point, amidst a weepy rant about family. That's when he'd spilled everything about his older brother's death, his absent father, his reckless mother. He'd rambled about Colleen in the Refuge, admitting for the first time how much he worried about her. How Alexei was the only stable friend he had left in the world, even though by that point he was seeing three, blurry versions of him.
With that hazy memory in mind, Alexei told Jack not to worry, and that Muggs would come back for her eventually. He just needed to calm down.
Jack asked Alexei to talk to Muggs, but Alexei declined the idea and instead elected to track down his on-again, off-again "girlfriend" and see if he could stay with her for the night. Jack had only met Elena once, but one look at her, and Jack knew she was as gone as Alexei.
Her long, stringy dark hair was never washed, so it looked greasy and witch-like. Her blue eyes were usually dilated and alarmed looking, as if she were expecting something awful to always happen. She moved very slow for a young woman of eighteen, in lethargic steps and dream-like gestures. And the way she talked disturbed Jack the most: stilted conversations with the walls, never looking anyone but Alexei in the eye, soft whispers, vague ramblings.
Jack reckoned her brain was too fried to weave together a coherent paragraph. And he had a suspicion she was taking more than just opium. Jack wasn't sure why Alexei kept her around, so he had to assume he was taking advantage of her perpetual drug-induced ineptitude.
In any case, Jack could count on Alexei to get high that night and forget about all that had transpired.
Grim decided to head back to the lodging house, and Jack agreed to do the same, despite his earlier plans.
He kissed Sophie on the head and followed Grim to Duane Street.
An hour later, Grim was in his bunk, nestling Henry by his side. It cut him up inside to think about how quick it was to lose the ones you loved. Colleen had been through hell, and Muggs didn't really seem to care. Not enough to stick around.
Grim was at a loss. He couldn't understand it. If anything happened to Henry, he wouldn't get over it. He just wouldn't.
As he hugged Henry close, he thought about that day in the Refuge that changed everything. He didn't like to dwell on it often, but every once and a while he'd allow himself to think back.
HOUSE OF REFUGE - 1895
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," Grim said quietly, pulling Natalie aside in the hallway on the second floor, near her dormitory. "I'm sorry. I couldn't get away to see you sooner."
It was the fifth day since they'd been thrown in. For Grim this was all routine, but Natalie looked skittish and terrified.
He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.
When he pulled away to look at her, he saw Natalie's expression.
Grim placed his hands on her shoulders as he stooped down to meet her eyes. This was his eighth time in — nothing scared him anymore.
"Nat, look at me," Grim said. He brushed her hair back. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Natalie sighed, giving a small shrug. "Don't worry about me."
Grim knew better than to believe that.
"I've been through this seven times. Just keep your head low, do whatever bullshit they tell you to do, and behave. You'll be left alone," Grim said hurriedly, wondering what else she should know. "Not that you'll have any trouble."
"Miles..."
"Eat whatever they give you. Doesn't matter if it tastes funny or if it looks bad. You don't know when your privileges will be taken away."
"Miles—"
"And if you need anything, ask me for it. I'll get you whatever you need. Don't go to Snyder," Grim added, making her promise. "And if he or any of the guards come into your dormitory at night, you do what I told you."
"Play dead, I know," Natalie said, her voice shaking. "But Miles, there's something—"
"If anyone gives you trouble, just let me know I'll take care of it," Grim added. "I don't care who it is. Keep your uniform clean. They won't give you a new one unless you're willing to make a trade. And you ain't. Seriously, Nat, I don't want you going—"
"Miles, I'm pregnant."
Natalie finally blurted it out, her eyes downcast. She'd been dying to tell him that for three weeks. But she wanted to be sure it was real. And she was afraid of what he would say.
Grim let her go and stood back. He searched her face for any sign of teasing but found no such thing.
With a soft cry, Natalie dropped to the floor and pulled her knees up, burying her face into her hands.
Grim slowly sat down, leaning against the wall next to her.
"God, I'm sorry, Miles," Natalie said as her voice broke. She shook her head and recoiled as if Grim would hit her. "I didn't mean to be. Honest. It's yours, of course. I ain't been with anyone else..."
"Natalie..." Grim said with a frown, looking down at her slim waistline and then back up at her. "How do you know?"
"I sort of figured it out, and one of the nuns did, too," Natalie replied, taking his hand, and gently placing it on her stomach. "I've known for a few weeks now."
Grim nodded. His expression sobered, and he ran a hand though his hair. "Well..." he sighed, trying to smile. "That's wonderful."
"You're not mad at me?"
"Why would I be?" Grim said, tilting her chin. "You'll be a good mother."
He tried to smile, though he was shaking inside.
"You'll be a good father," Natalie said in return, sounding both unsure and relieved.
"I can only hope," Grim replied with an exhaled chuckle. His throat tightened. His mind was still processing the information.
"Oh, Miles, I can't be pregnant," Natalie whispered, shaking her head. "Not in here. If they find out..." She collected herself, sniffling. "If they find out, I'll be in such trouble. And so will you."
Natalie shut her eyes tightly. "I can't do this."
Grim nodded. "Yes you can." He paused, giving her a sideways look. "I mean if this is what you want. I will make it work."
"I don't want anything to happen to this baby, Miles," she said. Her lip quivered as she looked up at him. "For once in my life, I have something that's really mine. And I don't want to mess it up. I don't want Warden Snyder to take away our chance."
Grim cupped the side of her face in his hand. "I promise you, I won't let him or anyone else do that," he said softly.
Gently, Grim wiped a tear away from her face with his thumb. "You can trust me, Nat. Okay?" He looked down. "But you need to tell someone. Mrs. Anderson might be able to help. Get you the proper things you'll need."
"Proper things?" She echoed curiously.
"Yeah, for your health. For our baby's health."
"But I'm so scared to even ask—"
"Then I'll ask, Nat..." Grim said, taking a deep breath and kissing her. "I just want you to be happy."
Leaning his forehead against hers, Grim managed a small smile to ease her nerves. "And I... I'm going to do all that I can to make sure our baby is okay."
Natalie bashfully smiled, drawing closer, and kissed Grim. She held his face, her delicate fingers sinking into his blonde hair. They stopped for a moment and smiled, eyes closed, their foreheads touching.
Grim held her as she straddled his lap without breaking their kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other, and Grim squeezed her narrow waist as she showered kisses over his neck.
That was the last Grim saw of Natalie. Eight months later, in his dark cell in solitary, Grim received the news from Mrs. Anderson that Natalie was dead.
She held a newborn in her arms, wrapped in a white blanket. Grim asked if the baby was Natalie's, and the matron said it was. A boy. Healthy. With bright blue eyes.
Grim was instantly enamored. Through the bars of his cell, Grim played with the newborn's little feet as Mrs. Anderson held him. The tiny fist grabbed Grim's finger, holding it tight as if not wanting to let go. Grim stared at it in quiet awe.
"Maybe I could just hold him for a moment?" Grim begged, suddenly frantic as the woman began to walk away with the infant. "Please? I won't tell."
"I'm afraid that's impossible," Mrs. Anderson said. "I'm not even supposed to be down here with him. The warden wants him in the nursery."
"Please, I just want to see my baby," Grim said.
He wrapped his fingers around the bars, watching as the matron shook her head.
"You really think the warden's going to let you anywhere near this child?" Mrs. Anderson almost laughed, making Grim's grip on the bars tighten. "You're dreaming, my boy." She walked to Grim's cell. "You won't need to hold him. He'll certainly never know you. Not where he's going."
Grim swallowed hard. "Where is he going?"
"Out west," the matron said with a shrug. "To a farming family, I suppose. He won't be your problem for long."
"But..." Grim caught his breath, trying to keep his voice even. "I want him. Natalie wants him—"
"She's dead," Mrs. Anderson cut him off, sending Grim's world down on top of him. "Or didn't Warden Snyder tell you?"
Grim shut down. He backed away from the bars, slumping back against the wall.
He didn't say anything. He almost thought he'd misheard. "What?"
"Very sad, I know," the matron said. "But I saw that coming the minute she went into labor..."
Grim tuned her out. He simply nodded and slumped down.
"Can I hold him?" He repeated, distant and robotic sounding. It was as if he hadn't already asked. "She'd want me to hold him."
With an exasperated huff, Mrs. Anderson left the cell block with the baby, abandoning Grim to his thoughts and ramblings, and that fading request to hold his baby. But it was all in vain.