A/N: I know this chapter is considerably shorter than most of the others, but it was one of those important things that didn't quite fit anywhere else, so I gave it it's own little chapter. Just an added reminder, please don't hesitate to review if you read this or submit any suggestions. Any predictions on what's going to/should happen next?

Fondestly, MeadowLark

Chapter 8: Late Night Confidante

With a heavy heart, Phil slowly walked up the fire escape and climbed back into the open window, closing it behind her. Some of the guys attempted to strike up conversation with the girl or to get her involved in one final game of poker before hitting the sack, but she seemed almost as if she didn't notice them at all. She merely would shake her head and mumble something about being too tired.

"Where will I sleep?" She asked Jack, standing over him as he wrestled playfully on the floor with her kid brother.

Jack laughed, letting Kit tackle him to the ground as he looked up at Phil. "I don't tink me boys would mind if ya took ya pick! But." He pointed to an empty bed next to where Crutchy was laying. "You an' da kid can have that one der."

Absently, she picked Kit up off of the floor, carrying him to the bed in spite of his protests. "It is past time for bed." She told him sternly, starting to tuck him in. She placed the single pillow under his head, kissing his brow.

"Otay." The little one said, resignedly. "But will you sing me our wullaby?"

"Of course." She brushed back some of his hair from his face as she obliged. Her singing voice was very wonderful, soft and sweet as the hauntingly alluring lullaby flowed through the room. Kit gave up trying to fight sleep, and his eyes closed as he drifted into the land of dreams.

Phil finished the lullaby and curled up with her head on the other end of the bed. Race tossed her his pillow, which she promptly threw back, assuring him that she was fine without one. She laid awake, staring at the mattress and springs above her head.

Crutchy watched her for a while from the next bed, observing how she, unlike her brother and several of the other newsies, was not succumbing so easily to slumber. Finally, he spoke up, "Sorry ta bodder ya, Phil, but ya seem to be in a less den pleasant mood since ya got back from outside. Is ever'ting all right?"

"Its alright, Crutchy." She sighed, rolling onto her side and propping her head on one hand to better see him.

"Der anyting I can do?"

She shook her head. "I'm not even sure what's wrong myself."

The last of the boys were climbing into bed by now, aware that they had to be up plenty early the next morning. Phil climbed out of bed, moving to sit at the foot of Crutchy's, needing to confide in someone. "What do you think of Spot?"

"Spot? Oh, he's a great guy-a little tough one dough." Crutchy grinned. "But what do you tink of 'im?"

Phil felt the blood rush to her face, giving her cheeks a ruddy glow in the semi-darkness. "I-Well, I like him, and I thought he liked me too." She runs a hand through her dark brown hair. "But he left without so much as a goodbye."

Crutchy thought on that a bit, a frown creasing his features. "Dat ain't like Spot. Leastways, not when a goil is involved."

Phil yawned. "I guess I had better get to bed. I'm sorry for keeping you up so late. I know you have to get up early."

He gave a little chuckle and grinned. "So do you'se! Anyway, it wadn't no problem."

Phil got up, walking the few feet it took to get to the bed she was sharing with Kit. She climbed slowly into bed, curling up like she had been before, trying not to disturb his sleeping. After she'd gotten settled, she spoke softly, "Crutchy?"

"Yeah, Phil?"

"Can we keep what I told you just between us?"

"Sure, sure. Your secret's safe wit me."

Phil barely heard his reply, already falling the next captive to the world where dreams reside.