(Hello all my friendsies, I'm finally back. I want to thank everybody who reviewed every little inane bit of the last chapter, it made me very happy on my long distance call from England to have Jenjen read them to me (pathetic I know) I thought I'd be able to get onto a computer before this but the laptop didn't work and when we got home the computer was still in the shop. Irk to you evil nonfunctional computer!)

Marble (not dead!) woke with a wash of pain and a scream. A hand quickly clamped over her mouth and she could feel someone's warm breath on her ear, "Hush, da bulls is still tryin' ta round everybody up. Deys soichin' apartments now, try an' keep quiet."

Spot (also not dead!) moved his hand away but his body lingered against hers for a minute. He enjoyed the contact but Marble was in just a little bit of pain *detect some sarcasm?* and he wasn't helping. She elbowed him in the stomach and hissed, "Git off:"

"Jesus, sorry." He fell back behind her and she looked around the room. She was lying on her side on the edge of a mattress in a practically bare room. She was facing the wall, but she knew there was nothing else there except for a lamp. They were in Dagada's apartment.

Marble tried to roll over and ask what they were doing there, but Spot shoved her back roughly, "Lie still an' be quiet. I wasn't kiddin' da foist time."

There was suddenly pounding from the other room. The two newsies froze and listened as Dagada called out, "I'm coming, I'm coming."

The front door clicked open and they could hear two people come in, "We's sorry ta distoib ya ma'am, but dere's been some trouble an' we t'ink some a da people we's soichin' for might be in da buildin'. Have ya seen or hoid anythin' suspicious?"

"Why yes, I have. Not even five minutes ago a few young men came running down the street making all sorts of noise. They seemed to be awfully agitated about something." One of the men instantly rushed off and the other stayed only long enough to thank her, then he was gone also.

The door shut and Dagada creaked slowly to the bedroom. She knocked softly and called through the door, "Spot dear, they're gone. I want you to stay here for the rest of the night and we can take you both to the hospital in the morning. It's safe now sweetie, don't worry."

She walked off and the two newsies sat in silence for another minute listening to their hearts pound. Marble heard water splashing gently behind her then felt a cool wet cloth on her back. She winced and finally understood why she had woken up in so much pain. Spot was trying to be careful, but there was a lot of dirt and gravel to wash out of the cut across her back.

She shifted to a more comfortable position and took a look at herself. Her left forearm was bandaged tightly and a wad of cloth was pressed against her right side. She didn't have a shirt on, but a blanket was covering her chest while Spot cleaned her back.

He spoke quietly after a minute, "Jack brought me straight heah when da bulls showed up den went ta make shoa da uddahs got away. Racetrack brought yous by a while latah. He said he had ta git to da hospital roight away an' he didn't t'ink he'd git dere in time. I dunno what 'e meant. He said dat someone got shot an' he had to catch up wit Pips. I didn't really catch alla it, but Blink an' some uddah guy got rushed to da hospital. I ain't really shoa what's goin' on roight now."

"Pips' husband showed up and wanted to take her back. I guess somethin' must of gone wrong after I passed out." She trailed off and Spot let it go.

He slowly made his way down her back with the rag, stopping whenever she winced or gasped. He was trying his best not to hurt her, but it was difficult for him to concentrate, he was still extremely sick. Marble was getting close to reaching her pain limit and his efforts were going largely unnoticed, "Ow! You did dat on purpose!"

"What!? I, gggrrrrr," He jabbed the cloth roughly into the wound and she let out a sharp scream, "I did dat on purpose, dere's a difference."

Marble didn't say anything back, she just lay there gasping for air and struggling to keep the pain at bay and remain conscience. Her eyes were watering and she clutched the sheets as Spot went back to work, much more carefully than before.

Finally he stopped and sighed, "Dis is stupid. We shouldn't be fightin' like dis, not now"

"Well I think we should be fightin'. Hell, we have everything in the world to fight about, and just for the fun of it lets exclude your being a complete shithead." He let the insult slide, knowing perfectly well that he deserved it, "Ever since we got together da only t'ing dat's changed between us is you gettin ovah protective and us screwin' every now an' again."

"An' yous bein' a bitch! Where did dis come from all of a sudden? You jist wake up today and decide dat I ain't good enough anymore, or have ya been silently sulkin' for months now an' only jist decide to bring it up at dat woise possible time?"

"Maybe if you weren't such a blind sighted prick you would have the slightest idea of what I'm talking about. When was the last time we went on a date, or did something alone or even talked seriously? Hell, have we ever talked seriously?"

"We's talkin' now."

"We's fightin' now. Dis is no different den before we got together, except we argue all of da time and sleep together when we're too tired to fight."

"What are yous sayin'? All dis is to ya is sex?"

She snorted, "Hardly." Then she muttered into her chest, "It wasn't dat good anyway."

A silence dropped and after it had dragged on for an ominous amount of time she realized that he had probably heard her. She started to feel uncomfortable and a little bit guilty, it hadn't exactly been the most tactful thing to say and she was starting to wish she hadn't.

Finally she couldn't take the silence anymore, "Spot?" She tried to turn and, like all of the other times, he pushed her back, "Spot I's sorry, I,"

He cut her off, "Why haven't ya said anythin' afore?" He didn't raise his voice at all but she still flinched when he spoke.

It was a long time before she could bring herself to answer and even then she just barely broke a whisper, "I didn't want to hurt your feelings." He didn't say anything and she rushed to explain,

"An' ya know it wasn't horrible or nuthin' it was jist.....weird. But not like wired weird, jist different weird you know. An' it wasn't really your fault or anything. It just kinda hoit for a while then it got like something wasn't happening right. I dunno, maybe I jist...." Marble finally realized that she was babbling and trailed off, "I'm sorry Spot, don't be mad."

He sighed and rested his head on her shoulder, "I ain't mad, but you shoulda said sumpthin' if ya weren't enjoyin' yaself."

"But you were and I didn't want to make you stop jist cause I felt funny."

"Marble, we's both supposta enjoy it, not jist me. An' ya know I'd much rathah be ineffective den deceived."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I's glad ya let me know, and if ya evah want ta do it again, I'll make shoa yous enjoy it too. Now lie still and let me finish dis." Spot quickly and carefully wiped away the rest of the blood and dirt away then expertly bandaged the wound. He helped her roll over without putting any weight on her back and kissed her forehead, "I's tired of fightin' Maggie, I's sorry for everythin' I did an I jist want to get back to normal."

"So do I, and as long as you quit drinking I think I can forgive ya." She said it with a smirk and he kissed her again.

"Woiks for me." She snuggled into his arms and for the first time in a very long while they spent the night together.

* * *

A train rattled through the countryside. Trees and fields and the occasional farm house flashed by the window. Pips (hey, hey, she's alive too!) Sighed and looked away. Two nights ago everything had gone to hell and now she as alone with Lucy (Not a main character but not dead either!) in a train compartment on their way home.

She looked over at the young girl who was picking listlessly at the hem of her skirt, she wasn't any happier about going back than Pips was. Her face was still bruised and swollen from the beating she had gotten. Pips didn't blame Lucy for telling where she was, she knew perfectly well how brutal her husband could be. She sent a silent thanks to God that he wasn't with them then.

Pips sighed again and looked back out the window. She couldn't stop thinking about that horrible night, or the day after. She was starting to think the things that had happened in the hospital were worse than anything before it. The blood, the panic, the fear, it had been hard enough not knowing what was happening, but not having Race there with her was almost more than she could bear. Then Lucy had shown up bruised and beaten, delivering the worse possible news. Pips shook her head, refusing to think about it, (God I'm a bitch) upsetting herself wouldn't help anything.

She let her forehead fall against the glass and watched the snowy ground flash past, she was probably missing the funeral right now. People like him didn't wait long to be put into the ground. The whole situation was confusing. Despite everything she ever said or thought she was beginning to think she had cared for him, or maybe it had been love. It was insane because he had never given her a reason to and there were so many not to, but she couldn't help her feelings. Pips sighed one more time in defeat, there would never be a chance to tell him now.

* * *

The day was cold and windy, but it was fitting. The graveyard wasn't the kind of place to expect good weather. There was a small crowd of people gathered to mourn the departed. Not many had known him and even fewer had cared. He hadn't been the sort of man that most people associated with.

The wind whipped across the cemetery, carrying away some of the freshly turned earth and tugging at the clothes and hair of those gathered. It was a place for the dead and the living weren't welcome. A priest droned on and the mourners kept their heads bowed more against the weather than out of respect. Very few of them there had considered him a friend and those that had were either unwilling or unable to come pay their respects.

As the coffin was lowered, two newsies grimly turned and walked away, they had seen all they cared to, it was time to get back to work.



(And to think you waited all of this time for that, don't hate me, it's not quite finished yet.)