Sarah tucked the cloth around the bread and baked goods she had carried along in the basket and took a deep breath. The lodging house wasn't exactly new territory, she had been there before when the strike ended and the whole house had erupted into a giant party but that had been different. As she headed upstairs to the sick ward, Jack had stayed downstairs, conversing easily with a few of the boys left over from that fateful time in their lives. Clearing her head of old memories, Sarah rapped on the door and waited expectantly.

"What?"

Nothing Jack had revealed about the situation had prepared Sarah for Spot's appearance when he tore the door open and stood there glaring at her. The Brooklyn leader had always appeared calm, collected, and ten steps ahead of everyone else. She was at a loss for words as she took in the deep purple smudges under his stormy blue eyes, the way his hair was disheveled, and his clothes were crumpled and unkept. It was an alarming and unnerving sight that left Sarah at a loss for words.

"I-I-um, I…" Sarah stammered helplessly.

There was the sound of the bed creaking and bits of incoherent speech from inside the room and before Sarah could blink, Spot was gone. She took the opportunity to step through the door and into the sick ward, closing the door behind her.

Spot was wringing a cloth out and trying to apply it to Tay's face and neck as she twisted under his hands. Her hair was plastered to her head and neck and there was a thin sheen of sweat covering her face. Her appearance made Sarah think back to that cold night years ago when she'd traveled to Brooklyn in the hopes of helping the younger girl.

"Don't touch her," Spot told her brusquely as Sarah bent to fix the bed covers that Tay had kicked off. Spot adjusted the blankets himself and went back to pressing the cold cloth against Tay's forehead.

"Is she contagious?" Sarah asked, drawing her hands back.

"No," Spot answered and Sarah realized he was just being protective and rather than be offended, she was kind of touched. It was interesting to see Spot caring for Tay considering the last time she had seen the two of them Spot had been much more cold and distant. Along with that was the fact that she knew quite well how Spot had treated Tay in the past.

"I brought some food," Sarah explained as she took a seat in the chair at the foot of Tay's bed. Spot stood rigidly with his back to her as he wrung the cloth out over the wash basin Mr. Kloppman had provided. Sarah took a breath before continuing. "I don't mean any offense, but you look like you could use a meal."

"I'll eat when she does," Spot said bluntly. He laid the cloth across Tay's forehead and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. Tay mumbled the name Liam and Sarah raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Spot shrugged. "It's my name. She's the only one who uses it anymore."

"I sometimes forget you guys have real names," Sarah smiled. "I know where most get their names from but I never heard anyone explain why you chose 'Spot'."

Spot's somber expression didn't change in the slightest. "I ain't ever told her that so I sure as hell ain't gonna tell you."

Sarah tried not to feel hurt by his blunt answer. The worried look in his eyes led Sarah to feel the need to comfort. "Tay will be okay. She's strong. I mean, she's made it through…"

Her words failed her as she realized she was getting too close to bringing up the brutal treatment Spot had subjected Tay to for years. But Spot saw right through her feeble attempt to calm his fears.

"You mean she's made it through dealing with me, right?"

"I didn't mean you…"

"'Course you did, Jacobs. You ain't wrong and it ain't like I haven't told myself the same thing."

Once again she was stunned by his uncanny way of telling it exactly how it was and reading people like they were open books. She found herself comparing him to Jack and considering the way she was never quite sure of Jack's words. Spot had never been one to sugarcoat things or paint wild fantasies. In other words, he wasn't a dreamer like Jack. Spot dealt in stark reality and Sarah almost found it admirable. However, it did make things a bit more difficult as she wasn't sure how to approach the sullen young man in front of her.

"If you need a break, I can stay with her," Sarah offered even though she was quite sure Spot wouldn't take her up on it and so she wasn't surprised when he declined.

"Don't need a break," Spot answered coldly. He reached absent-mindedly for Tay's hand and rubbed at the tips of her fingers. It was a somewhat strange gesture to Sarah as she wasn't used to Spot showing any sign that he could ever comfort another. She had always had her suspicions about Spot's behavior behind closed doors, especially with the way Tay would constantly come to his defense but she struggled to weigh the version of Spot in front of her with what she knew about his abusing Tay.

Watching Spot's eyes travel over every inch of Tay's face caused a shiver to travel up Sarah's spine. It wasn't fear but instead was something poignant and she realized she was witness to a side of Spot that he rarely revealed to anyone else. Sarah set her basket down on the floor and reached unknowingly for the blanket at the end of the bed.

"I said not to touch her," Spot practically spat, breaking the heart-rending stillness that had filled the room. Sarah sat back and kept her hands folded in her lap. Spot ran a hand over his face. "Sorry, Jacobs."

Sarah was stunned but kept a neutral face. "I just thought I might be able to help."

"She's been through enough. I can't leave her alone," Spot said quietly. "I don't want her waking up scared and not knowing what's going on."

"I understand," Sarah told him with a small smile. "You love her."

It was an odd thing to bring up as she wasn't really sure how Spot felt about Tay but the way he couldn't take his eyes off her told Sarah all she needed to know. She'd had her suspicions before when Tay had left and Spot became a shell of his former self. But sitting there in that room she watched as he worried over Tay, trying like hell to comfort her and she realized she had never seen Spot behave that way before.

There was a long moment of silence as Spot ran his fingers over the scars that lined Tay's left wrist. Sarah remembered seeing the scars when Tay had revealed them during their meeting after Sarah's visit to Brooklyn. The sight still unnerved her and she moved her eyes away quickly but not soon enough to escape Spot's notice.

"She showed you before," Spot said simply as he pulled the sleeve of the nightshirt Tay wore down over her wrist. He fidgeted nervously with the cuff of the sleeve, concentrating on it as he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Just another time when I thought I was going to lose her."

"You haven't lost her, Spot," Sarah told him gently. "I mean, you two have been through some things but at least here she's safe and you're going to get through this."

"They teach you to say that kind of thing in your family?" Spot asked and Sarah noticed how one corner of his mouth almost turned up into a smirk.

The mention of family made the differences between her life and his even more apparent. She wondered if Spot had ever made up a family the way that Jack had but she pushed the thought aside as it was obvious that Spot always carried the attitude that he didn't need anyone. But that wasn't exactly the truth. He needed Tay. That much was obvious.

"I heard from Jack that you two are a family of your own now," Sarah pointed out. Since he had been the one to bring up family she decided to see how far she could push things. "I have to say, I never really saw you as one who would settle down."

"Who says I'm settled down?" Spot asked, smirking for real that time. He glanced over at her quickly with a mischievous look in his eyes.

"So you're admitting to stepping out on her?" Sarah kidded.

"I never admit to anything, Jacobs." A familiar coldness crept into his tone and Sarah got to her feet, deciding to take a walk around the room before she ended up in over her head. Something that was quite easy to do when it came to Spot.

There weren't any other occupants in the bunks and it didn't take long before Sarah returned to stand at the foot of the bed Tay was in. She was mumbling incoherently and Sarah watched as Spot dipped the rag in the wash basin and wiped her face and neck. Tay jerked away at his touch but Spot persisted and his face grew concerned.

"This fever won't break," he told Sarah before wringing the cloth out again. He picked a glass of water up off the wash stand and held it to Tay's lips. "Please, doll. You gotta drink something."

"Have you tried a bath?" Sarah asked with apprehension. She couldn't think of any other home remedies that were suitable for a fever. But she regretted her suggestion as Spot frowned.

"She's scared of 'em," Spot explained quietly. "Back in the Refuge they used to strap the girls to chairs and tip 'em into the laundry tubs, let 'em jerk around for a minute before they dragged 'em back up. It was even worse in that reformatory they sent her to."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sarah told him. "I had no idea."

Spot just shrugged and replaced the glass on the wash stand as Tay wouldn't drink anything. He got to his feet and Sarah could tell by the way he held himself that he was frustrated. She was at a loss of what to say or do to make the situation any better. There wasn't much she could do for either one of them but her heart went out to them both just the same.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Jack told me about the man that did this. Why would he hurt Tay?"

"'Cause he's nothing but a fucking rat, that's why," Spot answered.

"Have you thought of-maybe calling the police?" Sarah asked with trepidation.

"Bulls ain't gonna do nothing for us," Spot answered. "Don't worry, Jacobs. I'll take care of him when it's time."

Sarah wasn't sure what to make of that statement and part of her wanted to try and talk Spot out of it but the other part of her understood that was pointless. She shivered as she thought of what Jack would have done if it had been her. Not to mention David. But she realized that was part of the difference between her and Tay. She had Mama and Papa and David and Jack. Tay had Spot and he only had Tay. They were alone in the world except for each other, no wonder they seemed to rely on one another so heavily.

Spot ran his hands through his hair and took a seat on the bed, facing Tay. He traced his thumb over the newly healed cut on her cheek and his shoulders were bowed in defeat. He held tight to her hand. "Please, doll. You gotta try."

Sarah left her basket where it was on the floor and reached for the doorknob. It was a heartbreaking scene and she felt uncomfortable interrupting what she imagined to be one of the few moments of quiet in Tay and Spot's life. As she closed the door she could have sworn she saw Spot wipe at his eyes but she figured she was just imagining things. Spot Conlon did not cry. Not over anything.

Racetrack opened the door to find Tay with her head propped up on a pillow, her eyes closed but she opened them when she heard the door close behind him. Spot was asleep with his head on her chest and his arms wrapped around her waist. Tay put her hand on his head, playing with his hair for a moment until he woke up. Normally Race wouldn't have expected Spot to allow himself to be seen as vulnerable but other than a brief look of annoyance toward Race he just rubbed his hand over his face and got to his feet. Spot and Tay had the same purple smudges under their eyes, one from illness and the other from lack of sleep. Tay gave Race a weak smile and gestured for him to come closer.

"Hey, kid," Race smiled at her.

"Hey, Race." Tay reached over and grasped Spot by the hand. "Can you give us a minute?"

Spot looked as though he wanted to tell her 'no' but he gave her hand one quick squeeze and left the room. Race took a seat in the vacant chair by Tay's bed and waited to hear what she had to say. She watched Spot leave the room and made sure the door to the room was completely shut before she turned to Race.

"Don't let Spot kill him," Tay said quietly.

"What?" Race felt bewildered and Tay reached for his hand so he allowed her to take it. She held on to him tightly.

"Please, Race. I don't want him to kill the man that did this to me."

"Kid," Race began but he was at a loss for words. How could she ask for something like that? Race had to admit to himself that he even wanted revenge on that Morelli character.

Tay noticed his hesitation and frowned. "Is he already dead?"

"No, that ain't it," Race told her. He took a deep breath and tried to decide how to face the problem in front of him. "I just-I mean, you can't ask me something like that, kid."

"I got free of him. It's over," Tay answered.

Race caught the look of turmoil in her eyes, her pale, hollowed out cheeks, and the thin red sliver on her cheek. It wasn't over. Far from it. Race shuddered to think what he would have done if Emily had been the one who was taken.

"You know how he became the leader of Brooklyn," Tay said softly. "I don't even know if there are more but I don't really want to know. I can't have another person on my conscience, Race."

"What makes you think he'll listen to me?" Race asked. He was thinking of the moment at the train station when Tay had appeared and both David and Race had to use all their strength to hold Spot back. David had always been good with words and with Race chiming in they were able to get Spot to stop short of committing murder right there.

Tay settled back into the pillows behind her and let go of Race's hand. She looked so tired and weak that Race's heart went out to her. He'd seen her hurt before but she'd always bounced back. Life on the streets had made her capable and strong enough to deal with life with Spot but Race understood that what she'd just been through was going to leave more scars than the one on her cheek. Tay's eyes fluttered closed and Race waited for a moment, watching her slow, even breathing as he struggled with the request she'd made.

Spot was waiting for him in the otherwise empty bunk room and Race made sure to secure the door before he walked over to the younger man.

"She wants me to keep you from killing Morelli," Race explained in response to Spot's expectant gaze. "You haven't told her, have you?"

"Nothing to tell," Spot answered and Race saw the vulnerability he'd witnessed in the sick ward shut off with an almost audible click. Spot's eyes were stormy and his tone was cold but that was the version of Spot that Race was used to.

"Tay seems to think it's over," Race told him but Spot just scoffed.

"You heard what the doctor said. This ain't over," Spot said with a drop of bitterness.

It was true, what Spot had relayed to him from the doctor was not good news. Not at all. Tay had been very tight-lipped when the fever broke and she had regained consciousness. Not only had Jack told them about Tay being drugged but there were bruises and sores on her arm which the doctor had told Spot was further sign that she'd been drugged more than once.

"She's not-not with child," Race stammered and the words died on his lips as Spot sent him a murderous look. Race regretted bringing up that particular detail of the doctor's report but he was spinning his wheels trying to come up with a way to stop Spot.

"If you want out, I understand, Higgins," Spot told him. He shrugged. "You got a family to look out for."

"I do have a family and if anything like this happened to one of them, I would...well, I ain't trying to back out. I just don't know what to say to her."

"You ain't gotta say anything to her. She's got enough on her mind and I ain't gonna trouble her more."

"She knows what you're gonna do though, that's what's bothering her."

Spot's eyebrows knitted together in a frown and for a moment he seemed to be reconsidering his plan but then he shook himself and there was determination in his eyes. "I can't let this go, Race."

Before Race could say anything else, Spot made his way back to the sick ward and stepped inside, cutting himself and Tay off from further questions.

Spot watched as Tay circled the room, running her fingers over each piece of furniture that he had somehow managed to scrape together. The sunlight flooded through the front windows and warmed the space that Tay explored. She moved past where Spot stood just inside the door and entered the small bedroom. Spot felt a familiar tightness in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He'd been dealing with the same feeling since the moment Mr. Kloppman had opened that door and Spot had seen Tay again. It felt like someone had their cold hand wrapped around his heart like a vice. He broke out of his reverie when he realized Tay had disappeared and he crossed to the bedroom.

Tay was laying on the bed with the old quilt wrapped around her shoulders and she stared blankly at the wall opposite even as Spot stepped into her line of vision. He put his hand on her shoulder and realized she was trembling. At his touch she curled deeper into the quilt and her breathing became ragged.

Spot climbed onto the bed and sat with his back pressed against the wall. He slid his arm under Tay and lifted her up gently, pulling her onto his lap and holding her head to his chest. Tay clutched at his shirt and pressed her face against him.

"I'm sorry," Tay whispered, her voice hitched in her throat.

Spot's heart nearly broke and he concentrated hard on his own breathing as he stroked Tay's hair. She flinched at first but he kept his touch light. "It's okay, doll. Just breathe."

"No, it's not," Tay struggled to tell him through her tears. "I ruin everything."

"Anna, stop, please. You haven't ruined anything."

Spot tried to keep his own breathing even in the hope that Tay would sense his calm and begin to relax but she still trembled under his hands and so he kept caressing her. He tried like hell not to think about the many things that could have caused her to panic. The one thought he could not seem to face was that he had somehow caused her to break. He'd broken her so many times before he had little doubt that the fault could rest at his feet.

Long minutes ticked by before Tay's breathing slowed and her tears subsided. She loosened her grip on Spot's shirt but didn't let go completely. He ran his hand down her braid and twisted and untwisted the ribbon tied at the end between his fingers. Spot reflected on how many ribbons he had bought for Tay over the years. It was a small gesture and probably the only kind thing he willingly did for her. After she'd healed, Spot had spent nearly every dime he had on renting them a new apartment in a neighborhood in Williamsburg and filling it with things that he hoped would make Tay happy, or at least help her feel better. Spot rubbed a hand over his face as he realized there was only one solution but at the same time he realized that solution would only make him feel better.

"Anna?"

Tay lifted her head and met his eyes but it was clear to see she was still troubled. Spot's gaze drifted to her cheek and he ran a calloused thumb over the scar.

"You understand that I have to take care of this, right?"

Tay dropped her eyes back down and concentrated on a button on Spot's shirt. She fidgeted with it nervously. "What if-what if I ask you to leave it alone?"

"Are you asking me that?"

Tay pushed off his chest and sat back on the bed with the quilt still huddled around her shoulders. She brought her braid over her shoulder and pulled the ribbon loose from the end before wrapping it around her fingers.

"It's just-there's nothing to take care of. I'm here. With you."

Spot wanted to point out the obvious, she wasn't there. Not really. She hadn't been there since she'd shown up on the front step of the lodging house in Manhattan. He'd spent nearly every waking moment with her and he couldn't escape the fact that she'd shut herself down and was hidden so far inside herself that he was at a loss as to what to do for her.

"I could go to the bulls," Tay said quietly. "Tell them what happened."

"Doll, we both know you can't go to the police and take the chance they'll find out about your past."

"My past is why I don't want you doing this. Haven't we done enough damage? We have hurt so many people, Spot."

"Why are you saying 'we'? You never meant to hurt anyone, doll." He had always fought with the intention to do harm, even when it came to her. The truth was he'd caused her more damage than everyone he'd ever come up against with the exception of Rook. Spot felt a rock in the pit of his stomach as he recalled how many times he had purposefully harmed Tay. He had always wanted to break her apart but since that day he'd found her in Manhattan Spot found himself struggling to put her back together. She was so wounded, so shattered that all he wanted to do was show her that he loved her. He just wasn't sure how.

Tay reached for his hand and held it in her lap, running her fingers lightly over his palm. He saw tears form in her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. "I don't want to lose you. He's dangerous, Liam. He doesn't play by the rules."

She curled herself up against him and kept her hand wrapped around his. She glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for one brief moment before dropping her head down onto his chest. "Please, Liam."

He rested his chin gently on the top of her head and kept his thoughts to himself. He couldn't give her the answer she wanted, he was still too angry for that. He waited until she dropped off to sleep before he allowed himself to do the same. They'd talk about it in the morning.

Author's Note: A HUGE thank you to AnnaW for reviewing this story! She is an awesome writer and I am so very grateful that she reviewed this story!

As for the story...I tried really hard with the Sarah/Spot conversation so I hope it doesn't stink. I just figured Sarah might be one person that Spot can almost show his feelings to...who knows? And poor Tay...I've certainly put that poor character through the wringer...my apologies! If it helps I feel like this will be a step in the right direction for these two as Spot!muse seems to finally show a bit more vulnerability. Anyway, happy reading and as always reviews are welcome and appreciated! Enjoy!