Chapter 8

Poison leaned back against a bunk sighing. He had come so close to re-lapsing… Poison shook her no need to dwell on the past. Yet regardless of not wanting to dwell on the past she did unwillingly in a sense. She stuck her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small vial with white powder sparkling at her. She closed her fist around it angrily. True, he had given the cocaine to her before they had reached the end of the pier to meet up with Spot but he should have known better then to even * think * of re-lapsing. There were too many people he could have talked to. There was Dragonfly, his own * girlfriend * who sure as hell wasn't taking it well from what Poison had seen. There were also Moods or her he could have talked to, but he hadn't. Instead he had disappeared into the night to go to the dock and practically guarantee himself of being kicked out of his lodging house, and every other lodging house in New York.

She looked at the vial in her hand and was sorely tempted to just throw it on the ground & crush it to into dust, but she knew better then to leave a single trace of it here. It would only fuel the anger aimed at Race and tempt Race to indeed actually relapse instead of coming within a hair's breath as he had tonight. Poison looked one last time at the vial of cocaine before shoving it into her pocket.

They had come back to the Manhattan lodging house an hour ago to find it packed with all the occupants of the lodging house as well as a few other newsies from different boroughs. When they had arrived Poison was looked at to see if Race had broken the agreement or not. Race was looked at with relief and a bit of sadness in a few cases anger, Poison knew the anger one would soon become more prominent in the room, they thought they had known him & he proved that they didn't. Poison had just ignored them and pushed through the group of them up to the bunks. Once there she had taken someone's bunk…she wasn't sure * who's * it was really, all she cared was that she wasn't down there in that mess. Too many complicated looks for her.

She stared out the window into the night absently rubbing the key around her neck with the pad of her thumb. The night always looked so peaceful and safe to her but it was filled terrors. Poison's thought began to spiral down a darker and darker route when a knock on the door pulled her out. She looked over and saw Mush shifting his weight back and forth nervously,

"Did he?"

Poison looked at Mush debating what to say to him, she could say no and have it be the truth but Race came so close a yes would be the truth too…

"Ask Race, it's not my job to inform everything that he does, I sell papes, and death that's all. I'd let Jack know if he needed to be kicked out, the entire house doesn't need to know his business."

Mush hesitated, "He said to ask you…"

Poison smirked slightly and laughed, "He would wouldn't he, I'm not going to be the scabber 'ere though."

Mush nodded his head looking slightly frustrated and went back out the door of the bunkroom. Poison watched him go and sighed getting up, it was time for her to leave, too many people would hunt her out to try and convince her to tell them if he had. Claiming it was in his best interest. His best interest was to have support from his friends but also be watched carefully. She strolled down the hall towards the stairs not wanting to go back down into the common room and its accusations. Normally she didn't mind the hustle and bustle of the common room, all common rooms were like that, but tonight the noise would just be speculations and questions on one topic, did Race relapse?

Poison walked down the stairs and was immediately bombarded with questions regarding Race she ignored them all looking for Spot to tell him she wanted to go back. Instead her eyes fell on Race stuck in a corner looking miserable. Poison frowned the people around him didn't look happy with him. She continued to look for Spot and spotted him talking to Jack near the door. They didn't look like they would stop talking anytime soon. Poison sighed slightly to herself and headed towards Race getting annoyed with herself, he deserves to get bombarded with questions and have people angry at him so why am I off to help him?

"'S'cuse me," Poison said when she reached the group and pushed through them to Race. She grabbed him arm and pulled him away leaving angry comments behind them.

"Yous stayin' in Brooklyn for now," she informed Race who looked slightly shell shocked. Poison walked over to Spot still holding on Race's arm so he couldn't be dragged off again by the boarders of the lodging house and stood there until Jack and Spot had a lull in conversation.

"Spot, I wanna go back," then she turned to Jack, "We're taking him with us."

"We's are are we..." Spot said not sounding pleased.

"Yes we's are, all this naggin' ain't 'elping 'im."

Jack looked like he was going to protest and Poison got even more irritated,

"Don't start," she warned. Then she looked at Spot, "I'll be in Brooklyn if you need to stay here or something. Just do damage control and don't let the Manhattan people through."

Spot nodded blinking slightly at being told what to do yet again. But she knew what needed to be done. He shrugged slightly and went back to talking to Jack who kept glancing at Poison as she headed out the door.

"Why'd you do that?" Race asked her when they got outside the lodging house.

"The questions and angry comments weren't gonna 'elp yous. They were afraid ta set you off now they're just angry & dey don't care what dey say anymore."

~*~

As soon as Race and Poison exited the door the lodging house exploded with even * more * discussions as to what was going on with Race and why Brooklyn was involving itself more then usual. Usually Brooklyn didn't involve itself with anything unless there was a Brooklyn involvement somewhere in there, beyond being a friend of someone. Everyone had friends in different boroughs regardless of what they said.

"Ya do know Spot, dat we's gonna need ta know if 'e relapses," Jack told Spot sounding reluctant to say anything about the matter.

"I's know Jacky boy," Spot said looking at the door and sighing slightly shaking his head. What a fine mess it was. Spot and Jack turned as they heard Dragonfly yell,

"Jus because 'e's got problems don't mean dat he's dasoives ta be thrown out! Who * ain't * 'ad some problem!" She yelled at Slingshot.

"'E broke da rules! He knew dat! So it ain't as if it'll be such a big surprise ta 'im!" Slingshot yelled back.

"Yous might wanna do somethin' 'bout yous goil less yous like 'avin a goil dat's about ta get a soakin'," Spot said turning to look at him.

"Who'd soak 'er? She's a goil, dere's rules 'gainst dat," Jack said.

"Dat don't apply ta otha goils, Race's populah, shoa dey mad at 'im, but dey'll calm down and dey ain't outright insultin' 'im," Spot pointed out. Then smirked slightly clapping him on the shoulder, "'Ave fun, I's got a new boy ta find a bunk for."

"Spot! Come on, you's gotta 'elp! It ain't jus Manhattan's 'ere."

"Yous right Jacky," Spot said smirking slightly, "Brooklyn! Move out, we's ain't welcome no more."

With that Spot turned around and walked out the door of the lodging house and towards the bridge with the Brooklyn newsies straggling behind him still talking and grumbling about Race. He ignored the mutterings until he got to the lh,

"Dere ain't gonna be any problems with Race, yous got it?" Spot asked standing on the stoop of the lodging house not letting anyone in until most of the newsies had gathered. The newsies nodded their heads in agreement recognizing the tone that he used meant that anyone who didn't agree would probably wake up in the East River.

Spot watched the group knowing they weren't happy with the order but would obey. With that solved and sticking Jack with calming the Manhattan newsies down Spot smiled slightly as he entered the lodging house. He climbed the stairs to the second floor stopping off at his room briefly to put his things away before heading for the sick room. He knocked before sticking his head in the room to see Race sitting in bed looking like a petulant child and Poison talking earnestly to him. Spot coughed to announce his presence and to mask any laughter that had escaped.

"I was wonderin' 'ow long it would take for yous ta shove it off onta Jack," Poison said not looking away from Race. There was something bothering her about this, like she was missing a piece of the puzzle. She scrutinized Race trying to see if she could figure it out.

"Yous shoa yous ain't gonna soak me?" Race asked Poison smirking slightly hoping she'd at least tease him, anything that would remind him of the old her. He knew this was his but but…he couldn't help but be a little nervous. Poison had yet to yell at him; she hadn't done anything except sound sad and lecture him while helping him. He didn't like her like this…he was used to the Poison who threw her knives at the wall when she was frustrated or just bored. Who could probably beat him at poker. Mostly he missed hearing her gripe about Spot. It seemed like a favorite past time of hers. He could tell there was something between them that was different then usual.

"Don't tempt me Higgins," Poison said sounding serious.

Spot stepped into the room and walked over to Poison kissing her on the cheek,

"Why don't we let Race 'ere 'ave some rest, if it'll make you feel bettah I'll make Tracks gaur-" Spot stopped abruptly when Poison moved away & clamped a hand around Race's wrist before he could move it.

"I'll give you one last chance, yous completely clean?" she asked him quietly looking at him. Spot shuddered slightly, * he * wouldn't want to be the one subjected to that gaze. There was nothing there, she was like ice. Race didn't seem to like the gaze either.

"I's clean," he said trying to get her to release his wrist. Poison looked at him and raised her eyebrow at him.

"I don't believe you. Spot, come 'ere & 'old his wrist for me," she said not taking her eyes off Race.

Spot wondered what she was up to but sat in the chair Poison had evacuated & took hold of Race's wrist. Poison un-buttoned Race's cuff and started to roll up his sleeve. Race kept trying to pull away and Poison knew the answer before she even finished. She could see the bruises running down his arm from the needles.

"Let 'im go." She said. Then shook her head, "Yous think yous clean? Love ta see what yous think ain't clean."

Race had continued to roll up his sleeve until his shirt was rolled past his elbow joint. Then shifted sitting so he couldn't be trapped against the headboard again,

"Jis' look at da marks," he said, "dey's old, yous know 'ow long it takes for tracks ta 'eal."

Poison looked at him sharply but didn't say anything. She turned his arm so she could see the tracks better,

"Maybe a month or two…'cept dis one," she said poking one. "An' dat one looks like an ameature did it, nothing like yous otha marks…" Poison said starting to sound puzzled. She opened her mouth to ask him what was going on when Moods ran into the room panting slightly,

"Gypsy's at the Queen's lodging house, she ain't doin' good…we's need ya…Spec's is stayin with 'er right now."

Poison closed her eyes squeezing the bridge of her nose, why now? Why now?

"I'm comin, Spot, if he gets worse or whatevah let me know," she informed Spot doubting that he could find out information on Race's track marks but he could try. She kissed him and started towards the door when Spot tugged her back by her belt loops and kissing her again.

"I's need ta go," she told him starting out the door before Spot could try again.