"I don't like it here."

"It'll be okay. I promise."

Tay attempted to squeeze herself further into the alcove they occupied but there was nowhere else to go. She pressed her back up against the wall, shifting slightly so she was partly behind Spot and tried to keep her eyes on the bakery entrance opposite where they stood. It wasn't easy to keep track of who was going in and out given the crowd that filled the street and Tay wondered briefly if it wouldn't make more sense to move closer but Spot had planted himself in the alcove and seemed to think it was close enough. He had explained earlier that he had something to show her although he hadn't been inclined to tell her anything more about it on their walk from Brooklyn to Manhattan.

The street was crowded with vendors and shoppers who spilled over onto the sidewalks, creating a symphony of noises which filled the air around them. Italian flowed from one person to the next and a majority of the storefronts had signs hanging out front written in Italian so although Tay couldn't be quite sure she suspected that she was, once again, in Little Italy. As the crowd continued to buzz around them the environment was beginning to get to Tay.

"There."

She followed Spot's gesture to a point in the distance. Amidst the crowd Tay recognized a woman clad all in black and froze instantly. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she watched the older woman make her way down the street. Before she could react Tay saw the woman disappear into the bakery. She turned to Spot with her lips parted to speak but she couldn't find the words.

"Told you that you didn't kill her," Spot said, reading her mind.

"You found her," Tay answered quietly. "I didn't…how did you know she'd be here?"

"She comes here every Saturday. They sell the leftover bread at the end of the week and so she comes by to buy some."

Tay noticed that Spot avoided answering the question of how he came by the information and decided he most likely wasn't going to be anymore forthcoming about it. Her mind was spinning as she watched the door to see if the woman would reappear. She hadn't really given Spot an answer when he'd asked her about his finding the woman and so she was a little surprised to find he'd gone about finding the woman on his own. Part of her had been unsure about whether she really wanted to know the answer to her question about the woman's fate. Another part of her had worried about what Spot might do when or if he found the woman. Tay had been careful to keep the details about the woman to the bare minimum in the hope that Spot would not include her in his vengeance.

"Feel better?" Spot asked, bringing her out of her daze. She saw the look of concern on his face and tried to offer him a brief, small smile. His concern seemed to grow. "She's fine, doll. No harm, no foul."

"But she's dressed in all black, she must be in mourning for…for that man."

"Probably." Spot shrugged and Tay felt a chill go down her spine at his ambivalence over the fate of the horrid man, especially since she knew Spot was responsible for the man's death. In the beginning she had wanted the man dead but once she'd obtained her freedom she had struggled with her initial feelings. More than anything she had wanted to keep Spot from committing cold-blooded murder but she hadn't been strong enough to stop him. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't her fault as she had known Spot long enough to understand that there were just some paths he was willing to venture down and there was nothing that she could do to change his mind.

"How was he related to her? Was he her son?"

"Yes."

"And you…?"

"Yes."

As Tay watched she saw the woman emerge from the bakery with a paper sack full of bread in her arms. The woman had the same kind look on her face but Tay noticed that she also looked tired, a bit worn down. When the woman began to head down the sidewalk, Tay moved to follow her when Spot grabbed her by the arm.

"But she's leaving…I can't go talk to–"

"No."

"What if I don't speak to her, what if I just watch to see where she's going?"

"What did I just say?"

"I feel like we should…I don't know…do something for her," Tay told him hesitantly. She wasn't sure what possessed her to give voice to such a notion. So many mixed emotions seemed to be coursing through her and she wasn't sure what to feel. Why had she said she wanted to talk to the woman? What would she even say?

"I ain't doing shit for that woman and neither are you." Spot's features hardened into a mixture of disgust and anger.

"She was…it wasn't…" Tay's words trailed off as she looked over to find Spot's eyes were two pieces of ice. She swallowed thickly but couldn't quite find the courage to continue. It wasn't that she could say the woman had been kind because she couldn't trust her own memories in that regard. Her time in the woman's care had been a brief escape from the torture that had awaited her in that basement. Treating Tay with any semblance of humanity had become a kindness in her mind and so she held the older woman in a different light.

"She did nothing," Spot said bitterly. "You were gone for weeks and she never did a thing for you. He cut you, burned you, raped you and she did nothing to stop him."

Tay's thoughts shut off with an almost audible click at the word rape. It was the first time either one of them had put what had happened into one simple little word. She had felt her whole body flinch when Spot called it for what it was and she didn't know how to answer him. Her lungs couldn't find enough air and the din of the surrounding crowd was muffled and seemed to come from far away. She reached out unknowingly for Spot's arm and found herself leaning on him heavily.

"Anna, breathe. You gotta breathe for me, okay?" His voice was distant and she blinked slowly, trying to bring his features into focus. He started speaking more to himself than to her. "Goddamn it, I knew this wasn't a good idea."

Tay could only focus on the slight tick in Spot's jaw that had always signified that he was upset. Race probably would have called it a tell. It was something she had picked up on years ago and always looked for when Spot would keep his true feelings behind a cold, neutral mask. It was a warning sign but at that moment Tay understood that his anger was not directed toward her.

She struggled to find words and instead clung to the front of Spot's shirt, pressing her cheek against his chest and listening for his heartbeat. The noise of the street faded further away and she focused on the steady drumbeat, trying to slow her own quick heartbeat.

"I'm sor–"

"Don't."

It was unexpected and she drew back to see that same cold look in his eyes. He wasn't looking at her but instead kept his eyes focused on a point in the distance.

"You need to stop apologizing. If anyone needs to apologize, it's me. I wasn't thinking when I brought you here. I figured after all the lies I've told you that you wouldn't believe me unless you saw her for yourself." He turned his eyes towards her but had that same distant expression. "She's not a good person, doll. That's one thing you're just gonna have to trust me about."

"How do you know that?"

She hadn't really expected an answer and so she wasn't surprised when he grasped her by the hand and led her down the street. Despite the changes he'd made Spot had never refrained from keeping certain details to himself. His methods of obtaining information had always been somewhat mysterious given his reliance on a network of spies and others who had paid him tribute. Tay was troubled by his comment about the woman but she understood Spot was not going to be providing any more details about her.

Tay didn't speak for blocks and her thoughts were focused on the strange woman. She realized her plan to speak with the woman was foolish as she'd never said more than a word or two to the woman before and the woman only seemed to speak Italian anyway. It hadn't really occurred to Tay that the woman could have done something about the torture and imprisonment. She had assumed that the woman was caught in the same trap and had no means of standing up to that man. Their interactions with each other had been brief and only happened after the man had finished committing his foul crimes against Tay.

"What about this place?" Spot asked, interrupting Tay's thoughts.

"What?"

"I asked if you wanted to eat before we went back to Brooklyn and you said yes."

Tay had no recollection of that conversation at all but that was something that had happened more than once since she'd returned to Spot. She found herself constantly trying to balance between what was going on in her mind and what was happening in reality. It was the worst at night when she'd lie there with her eyes closed, a multitude of memories flashing past her in quick, hazy snippets. During the day she'd try to occupy her time but she always caught herself slipping into long periods of reminiscing which often left her saddened and subdued.

"This is fine."

It was a quiet establishment that appeared to be a few steps above a pub and yet not so high class that there were crystal and china settings at the tables. As though he read her mind, Spot requested a table in the back corner where he would be able to keep tabs on anything going on around them and Tay could feel more secure. Neither spoke after Spot ordered for both of them until the food arrived.

Tay kept her eyes down and bit at her lip before giving into the question that was on the tip of her tongue. "What do you mean she isn't a good person?"

"What did I say?"

"To trust you."

"Maybe you should give that a try."

"I only want to–"

"Stop it. You either trust me about her or you don't. Either way, we are done talking about her."

"Don't kill her." Tay barely whispered her request and was startled when Spot threw his silverware down in annoyance.

"Christ, Tay, why would I kill some old woman?" There was exasperation in his voice and she looked up to see him frowning across the table at her. "I said she ain't good and she's not. But that's where it ends. All I wanted to do was show you that she's alive and I ain't got any plans to change that fact."

Although Tay didn't truly believe Spot would do such a thing, there was a sliver of her that was unsure and worried that he might, in some other way, hurt the woman. He had always been so quick to violence that she had her doubts about his ability to solve problems any other way but since they had been reunited, Spot had kept his violent nature in check. At least he had tried to keep Tay in the dark about any incidents. Morelli had been the one situation that Spot had admitted to her, although she had practically dragged it out of him. But then it had been an outcome she had easily predicted so there really hadn't been any way of hiding it from her.

Tay concentrated on the meal in front of her and tried to force herself to eat. Even as a young newsie she had never had much of an appetite. Feeling hungry was something she had just grown accustomed to, especially after her days on the streets when meals were few and far between. Life in the reformatory hadn't improved on anything with the diet of thin porridge and water that she'd been given to subsist upon. That experience combined with the fact that she'd been forced to eat while captive had left Tay feeling slightly sick at the sight of a variety of foods. It was something that she had struggled with alone, unable to even put it into words. There were still so many pieces that she couldn't even bear to think about or consider telling Spot. He had been her saving grace for years but there were times when even her memories of him were stained and left her reeling.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" She looked up to see Spot's eyes were full of concern. "There's a decent hotel next door–"

"How do you know that? Did you bring one of your girls there?"

She regretted the question the moment it left her lips and she couldn't have said what possessed her to even think of such a thing. He'd already sworn to her that there was no one else but she still had difficulty reconciling his past dalliances with what he had promised.

"I read the sign outside the door," Spot answered. "I just figured maybe you wanted to get away for a night."

Tay put her head in her hands and stared down at her plate. "I didn't mean what I said. I was just–"

"You're angry, I get it, doll."

"But I don't want to be angry. Not with you."

Letting her anger out had only ever resulted in her feeling empty and lost as though she had become someone else. Her anger would explode at the most unexpected times and was mostly aimed in Spot's direction. He would take it in stride, patiently allowing her to vent her feelings and seeming to understand that not all of her rage was meant for him.

The truth was her anger scared the hell out of her because the last time she had allowed her feelings to consume her she had killed a man. It was the cold, honest truth and there was nothing she could do or say that would ever make that right. Spot had somehow managed to shield her from the effects of her decision that fateful night but she had decided that wasn't enough. Part of her entered the reformatory in an attempt to break away from Spot but the other part of her felt it was a necessary punishment for what she had done. It seemed that every time she had allowed herself to get swept up in her anger something awful had happened.

"You know after everything that has happened, you're allowed to be mad about shit. I wish you'd talk to me about it," Spot told her.

"I can't," Tay answered quietly.

There was the same concern in Spot's eyes that caused Tay to look away quickly before tears sprung up in her own eyes. It had been the same when she'd finally been able to tell him about the woman. Tay often felt as though she'd fallen into a bottomless abyss where no one could ever reach her but Spot seemed determined to try and draw her out. Hiding any part of herself from Spot had never been an option as he had always had the ability to see right through her.

"I thought you'd feel better knowing she was alive."

It was the second time he had mentioned her feeling better and Tay wondered why it wasn't true and that she had only felt more confusion and sadness upon seeing the woman. Seeing her alive should have brought some kind of relief but Tay hadn't been able to feel that. Maybe it was that she'd learned that the woman was Morelli's mother and Tay knew the unending ache that stemmed from losing a child so well that there was a sliver of sympathy for the woman.

"She lost her son," Tay said softly.

"That bastard got what was coming to him." Spot's voice was cold and she looked up to see his features harden into that cruel, unfeeling mask that she knew so well. That he seemed to feel no regret about what he had done wasn't really a shock as she had seen the extremes he would go to willingly but she still felt guilt that he'd taken another life for her.

"I know what that is like…to lose a child." It was the first time she had dared put a voice to that particular heartache since she'd returned to Brooklyn. There was a quick flash of pain across Spot's face and his face softened.

"Our baby was an innocent soul, Anna. It's not the same thing at all. She knew what her son was, she was more involved in it than you know. Please believe me about that."

"Can I know her name?"

"Sophia."

Tay sat back in her chair, mulling over the name and for a brief moment she considered asking any number of other questions but decided against it. Trying to pry more information out of Spot would likely only result in more harm than good. It was clear that he was trying, once again, to protect her and Tay recognized that fact so there were no more questions about Sophia Morelli.

It wasn't until after Spot paid the bill and they were registering at the hotel that her thoughts became too great for her to keep contained. Tay held her tongue until Spot closed the door behind the two of them after they entered their room for the night.

"Do you know–I understand that you never want to talk about it but can you tell me if…if it was a boy or a girl? Our baby?"

Tay couldn't even bring herself to look at Spot as she waited for an answer to her question. It was his use of the word 'our' that had stuck out to her earlier and caused her to ask the question that she had been struggling with for years. Spot had never said very much about the miscarriage and Tay had never had the courage to ask him due to her fear that discussing it would push him to close himself off again.

Spot crossed the room and stood for a long moment at the window, looking down into the street below. Tay could see the tension in his shoulders and she wondered if she had gone too far.

"It was a girl," Spot finally said quietly.

Tears welled up in Tay's eyes but she was still able to make out Spot drawing his hand across his own eyes and she was struck by the air of sadness that seemed to surround him. She crossed the room and took his hand in her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Thank you for telling me."

The look on his face nearly broke Tay's heart and she was reminded of his appearance when they'd first met as children when he was still young and fairly innocent. Before they had been swallowed up by the chaos and destruction that had left them both reeling and in pieces on the ground.

"I never knew what to say to you. I wasn't able to protect you…or her."

"I'm sorry for thinking you were a part of it–I was angry–"

"Don't apologize, doll. You had every right to accuse me. It ain't like the way I treated you would have made you think any differently. I was no better than–"

"Please, don't," Tay interrupted softly. "He was evil. You are not like him."

"I've got blood on my hands, Anna."

"Me too." Tay turned Spot's hand over and ran her fingers over his palm. She felt a sob catch in her throat as she put words to what she'd never been able to face before. "Maybe we aren't meant to have children. Maybe we're not good people."

Spot reached up and brushed away a tear that had escaped and held her chin gently. "Look at me. You are not a bad person, Anna."

"Then why…why can I never—" Tay's voice disappeared as she found she couldn't continue. She felt a rock settle in the pit of her stomach as her heart raced.

"She said there was a chance, doll. You don't know that it will never happen."

Tay had always kept that one small wish so contained that she hadn't been sure Spot would notice each time her hopes were once again dashed. That had been the first time she'd even been brave enough to put her secret into words and it left her feeling shattered.

Spot leaned down and pressed his forehead against Tay's and wrapped his arms around her. "It'll all be okay. I promise."

She needed so desperately to believe him that she didn't even question it for a moment. She understood the lengths he had gone to in order to protect her and even if he didn't seem to think he'd succeeded Tay understood things could have been so much worse. Tay had always wanted a family and she realized she had one. It was small and broken but still hopeful and she clung to what she had with all her heart.

"Don't leave me," Spot whispered before he kissed her gently. When the kiss broke away Tay pulled back to see that Spot's eyes were filled with sadness and longing. She put her hand on the side of his face and brushed her fingers over his cheek.

"Never."

Spot awoke to find the place in the bed next to him cold and he panicked for a second as he sat up and scanned the room, making out Tay's silhouette as she stood at the window. He turned the lamplight up and noticed that Tay was fully dressed. Her head hung down and she wrung her hands together repeatedly as her lips moved quickly but he couldn't make out what she was saying.

"You going somewhere, doll?"

Tay practically jumped out of her skin when he spoke and Spot's fear grew when she looked at him with sheer panic and fear in her eyes. He immediately climbed out of bed and crossed the room but Tay put her hands up as though she expected him to hit her, causing his heart to nearly break.

"Tay, talk to me. What is wrong?" His fingertips tingled as he fought the urge to reach out and hold her but he didn't want to frighten her.

"I can't," Tay whispered.

"It's okay, doll."

Even in the low lamplight Spot could see the thin sheen of sweat that covered her forehead. Her breathing was erratic and he noticed the distant expression in her eyes. Tay began to scratch at her arms, raking her nails down her skin and leaving thin red marks behind. Spot reached out to stop her but Tay tore her hands away from his and continued to gouge her own skin. Spot recalled the number of times in the past when Tay had harmed herself and he swallowed thickly, trying to drown the feeling of fear that coursed through him.

It suddenly hit him with the force of a ton of bricks. "Did you take something, Anna?"

"No," Tay said as she jerked her head back and forth. "No…no…I don't…"

He hated himself for asking her that question even though he was relieved to hear her answer. It had been nearly a week since he had poured the last of the opium down the drain and Tay hadn't really said anything much about it. He felt that he should have known better than to accuse her of taking drugs but it had been awhile since she'd last had an attack like the one she was suffering through right in front of him.

Spot began to further regret his decision to bring Tay to see Sophia Morelli as he had an almost certain feeling that everything that had happened that day had caused her extreme anxiety. Tay had begun to draw blood with her nails and so he tentatively reached out and took her hands in his hands, gently stopping her from hurting herself.

"Come back to bed, Anna."

At first she seemed determined to stay right where she was but he was eventually able to draw her back toward the bed. Spot reached up to help her undress but Tay's whole body stiffened and her breathing grew more erratic.

"No, please, don't," Tay said in a choked voice. She reached up and clutched at the collar of her blouse.

"Okay, doll."

Spot cautiously brushed a few damp tendrils of hair off Tay's face and he studied her for a long moment, recognizing the terror in her eyes from the previous times he had found her caught up in what had happened to her. Each time had left him searching for answers as Tay fell apart in front of his very eyes and he experienced a rage that was unmatched. Staying calm was the most important thing as well as the most difficult. Spot hadn't been satisfied with his vengeance and many times he had considered burning down the whole city if it meant Tay would feel better.

"How about we start with your boots? Just that one thing." Spot knelt by her feet and began slowly unlacing Tay's boots, lifting one foot out and then the other while paying close attention to any hesitation she showed. He got to his feet and waited until she relaxed her grip on her collar and allowed her hand to fall back down by her side.

"You want to keep the rest of your things on?" Spot asked but Tay shook her head. "Do you want to undress on your own or do you want help?"

Tay kept her eyes down and he had to lean closer to hear her whisper, "Help me, please."

Spot understood without her saying anything further that she needed help in more ways than just assisting her as she undressed.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Anna," Spot explained as he lifted his hand and slowly undid the top bottom of her blouse. A thousand questions bounced around his mind as he worked his way down the garment, stopping each time Tay shuddered or her breathing quickened. It took quite a bit of time and Spot repeatedly assured her that he wasn't going to hurt her before he was able to finish.

Her skin was ice-cold and Spot began to second-guess his decision to help her undress. Tay still wore her camisole and petticoat but she was shivering and he coaxed her into bed, covering her with the blankets. He sat on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his hands, unable to tamp down the fear that seemed capable of swallowing him whole.

"It was a girl." Tay's voice was quiet but in the silence of the room Spot heard her loud and clear. His heart drummed loudly in his chest as he realized it was not Morelli that had caused her anxiety.

"Yes," Spot told her gently while he cursed himself for not realizing what was troubling her sooner. He was instantly overwhelmed by the memory of that terrible night. Spot swallowed hard but it still felt as though his heart was in his throat. "I named her Grace. That was my mother's name."

"It's too much." Her voice was edged with tears and Spot pushed himself back on the bed until he was sitting with his back pressed up against the headboard. He put his arm around Tay and carefully lifted her up so she was leaning against his chest.

"It's okay, doll. You're okay." He noticed that her breathing began to slow and he grew concerned that the topic would send her right back over the edge. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"We never talked about it. I want to know things."

"Okay, doll."

"What happened…after…when she…"

Spot leaned his chin on the top of Tay's head and took a breath, trying to sort himself out enough to be able to talk about the miscarriage. It was a topic he had tried drowning over time but it had always been there, tormenting him for years.

"I took her and buried her in Green-wood cemetery." He remembered the way his hands had bled as he had tried to pry open the frozen ground and his vision had been blurred by tears of rage and pain. It had taken hours to create a suitable resting place and he recalled kneeling in the dirt and wanting to scream at the heavens but instead he swallowed his rage and locked his heart up tight.

"Why did you keep her from me?" Her tone wasn't accusatory but just deeply sad. It took Spot a moment before he could recover enough to answer her.

"I didn't know what else to do," Spot admitted. He reflected back on that experience but could come up with nothing better than what he had just said. They had been so young and he had been so caught up in trying to do everything he could to keep Tay alive that he hadn't been able to consider any alternatives.

"Do you visit her?"

Spot rubbed his hand over his face and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "Yes."

He had seen the lengths Tay had gone to after the miscarriage and the chaos that had consumed her. There had been silence at first and when she did finally speak her rage was directed straight at Spot. He still vividly remembered her varied attempts to shield herself from her pain, using drugs, using other boys, resulting in the worst possible outcome which he hadn't predicted and had nearly ended with him losing her completely.

"It'll be December soon," Tay said quietly. "She would have been four years old."

"I know." Spot had visited the cemetery numerous times but each year there was one day that he dedicated solely to their lost daughter. It had only been last year that Spot had been able to afford a proper headstone to replace the worn wooden cross he'd used to mark the grave.

"Will you take me to see her?"

"Yes."

Spot remembered the story Tay had told him about the rows of small graves outside the reformatory where the women were told it was their sins that caused the babies deaths. Even those who survived were never returned to their mothers but were instead adopted by wealthy families or shipped out on the infamous orphan trains. Given the way that she could never bring herself to speak about what had happened in the reformatory Spot wasn't sure how much it might have compounded her grief about the miscarriage but it certainly hadn't done her any favors.

"Do you ever visit your sister? Is she…somewhere near?"

"No. There was no money to get her a proper burial." Spot felt his chest grow tight and there was a lump in his throat as he thought about his long lost sister. His memories of his mother after her loss mirrored Tay's grief but he realized that his mother had given up while Tay had somehow managed to survive. It was heart-breaking to think just how often he had depended on her ability to survive despite how he had treated her.

"What happened to your father? After you lost your mother?" Tay's voice interrupted Spot's thoughts and he took a long breath, releasing it slowly as the memories of his mother began to fade.

"Not tonight, doll. Okay?"

"Okay."

It was a box Spot was anything but willing to open given that he knew quite well what the result would be and he didn't have the strength, not after talking about Grace. When he had told Tay he was like 'that man' he had meant more than just Morelli. The truth was Spot had somehow allowed himself to become just like his father and that was something too terrible to face.

Note: First, Anna_W you are wonderful and amazing and so kind for leaving reviews! I'm forever grateful!

Second, I hope no one minds that this chapter is a little short. I tried my best! As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated! Happy Reading!