A/N: Hallo there! Fishface here... signing in to give out cookies. Sorry I
haven't done this in so long... hmmm. I'll start with the Chapter 17
(wowzers.) reviewers: Cookie goes to umm... (yes. That's how it's signed.),
another one to Miss PunK, and thanks, we try to update ASAP but school...
it's demanding. Another cookie to liberty's gypsy. Yum. Cookies. *steals
one for herself and brags about what a great cook she is* oh! another one
for FlutterFly! Oh and one for Tiger17, who DEFINATELY boosted my
confidence coming from writing the end of chapter 17! aiiiee, the biggest
cookie to you. One for Miracle too! and one for Anna C.! And for Lyra Torg,
Snooza1 *grabs a sandwhich from the picnic and hands her a cookie* mmm..
peanutbutter. Another one for Devonny, and of course for MegabeeAthelete,
and last one: for Reffy, for sitting around all day and reading our story.
Don't worry hun, I do it all the time XD Alright. *eats leftover cookies*
On to the fic.
* * * *
I stared at Kerry for a few moments longer, but I couldn't take it anymore. His blue eyes were pleading with me to take him somewhere where he could lay down, but he still didn't say anything. I gently put my hand under his arm, and tried to pull him to his feet, for a moment, he couldn't move, and he just grasped at his stomach, but soon, I supposed he mustered all of his strength to stand up, and he did. I would have carried him, had he not been almost a foot taller than me, so for the moment, no matter how much it pained him, he was going to have to walk.
When we finally reached the clubhouse, I contemplated where to put him. The lower room was empty; all the Brooklyn boys had gone to see the vaudeville again, all except Kerry and Spot. After a moments glance around the room for anywhere I could lay him, I determined that the only place to lay him down would be in the upstairs room.
I glanced at him; I could tell that he was having a hard time standing... how on EARTH was I going to get him up the eight stairs? My eyes shifted towards them and I frowned. Suddenly I felt his hand on my shoulder, sneaking like he always did, I jumped.
"I can do it..." It was the first thing he had said that I could clearly understand, though it was still a bit slurred.
I bit my lip nervously. Avoiding his eyes, I put his arm around my shoulder, and one by one, we climbed up each step.
As we stepped in, I heard a shriek and a thump. Fishface.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" She cried out loud, "Kerry, what happened? What happened, Shorts? What happened?" was all she could scream. I shook my head as I shifted Kerry down onto my mattress. He closed his eyes and half-way smiled, as if in thanks.
I turned back around to Fishface, who was backing away, nearly in tears, she was swearing under her breath, "Damn it Kerry, what happened?"
I stared at her and shook my head, and she silenced.
It must have been ten minutes before I heard the tiniest noise but Kerry MacKilligan's rasping breath, and his baby sister trying to suppress her sobs and swears. In fact, it had been so long that I almost jumped when the door to the upstairs room opened, and Spot entered with an unfamiliar man. I stared at him as if he were a lunatic, bringing a stranger in the room.
"You told me to go and get a doctor, he's a doctor!" Spot said, looking around as if he was thinking, 'What? Did I get the wrong guy?'
I stuttered for a moment, "Thanks Spot." I paused before looking over the man, who Spot had apparently awaken from his night's sleep, "His name is Kerry MacKilligan, we found him out on the docks like this... is he going to be okay?" I suddenly realized how panicked I was, and tried to control my breathing.
The doctor blinked at me, "I would like to do a thorough examination, and it would be appreciated if you would all leave the room."
I stared at him blankly. Leave? Now? Not when Kerry was like this. "But Kerry-"
Spot grabbed my arm gently, "He'll be fine with the doctor, Anabeth," he said softly.
Kerry's eyes fluttered open and he said in agreement, "I 'e fi'e." His speech was starting to slur again, and I could hardly understand what he said.
When we exited the room, I stared at the two of my companions. Fishface was positively trembling.
"DAMNIT." Spot suddenly shoved his fist against the wall, and I stared at him, not quite sure what to think, "Damn it..." he said much quieter, turning around and leaning his back against the wall. His hand was twitching...again.
He paced down the stairs, and Fishface followed in suite. And what can I say? I went after them.
Spot continued, "God. Why does MacKilligan always have to get himself so goddamn drunk all the time?" He practically shouted, "I mean, he's got a girl, he's got a job, what the hell could be so bad that he has ta go gettin hisself all drunk all the goddamn time?"
Fishface stared at Spot, nearly in tears as she sunk down onto a crate, I stared at Spot in disbelief. How could he say something like that? He glanced over at the brunette, sobbing now, he looked regretful for a moment, and another silence fell over us. This time, however, Ruth MacKilligan openly sobbed her eyes out.
It must have been a half hour before the doctor finally emerged the room. He looked a bit annoyed, yet not completely upset.
"He'll be alright," My heart leapt, "Just let him rest up there for a few days, and don't even think about moving him."
Spot thanked the doctor, and he left, leaving Spot, Fishface, and myself standing in the lower room of the clubhouse. Fishface was wiping away her tears, and nodding to herself, reassuring herself that the doctor was right. Spot had finally found a cigarette, and I wiped my hands off on my skirt before stating, "I'm going up to see him."
As soon as I had got up to the third stair, I knew that Fishface was only a step underneath me, and honestly, I couldn't blame her. If Patrick had come home looking like that, I would be upset too.
When I opened the door, I saw Kerry laying there still. He coughed a bit, and opened his eyes to look at us, "Anabeth... Ruthy..."
I smiled lightly and walked further into the room, kneeling down onto the floor next to him. His younger sister followed in suite.
"Hey Ruth," He said, his speech wasn't so slurred anymore, "Couldjya take me slingshot out of me back pocket... it's painin' my backside." He gave his sister a half-smile, and she wiped away the last of her tears for the night, "Don't cry..."
Fishface laughed, perhaps a little dryly, "You scared me -us- so badly Kerry." She brushed some of the hair out of his face, the way he always did to me when he was worried, "I thought you were gonna die."
Kerry gave her another half-smile as she leaned over and pulled the slingshot out of his back pocket, "I'm never gonna die, Ruthy."
"You'd better not, MacKilligan," She playfully grinned at her brother. "Or you'll have me to deal with. And I bet that impeccable aim of yours was inherited from somewhere." She aimed the unloaded slingshot at him and laughed. I remembered that I had once wondered whether or not Kerry and Fishface had moments like Patrick and I did, and I smiled as I witnessed one such moment.
After a few more moments of conversation with her brother, Fishface informed us that she was going to try to get some sleep; she had had a tiring day (Though I wasn't quite sure where she had gone). I sat next to Kerry, holding his hand, smiling softly. I told myself that I wouldn't go to sleep until I was almost certain he was in his own world of dreams, and as he breathed steadily, I let go of his hand, slipping towards another corner, where a vacant mattress lay. I had slept on the same one since I'd come to Brooklyn, but that night, it was occupied.
"Wai'" I heard Kerry slur, I turned around and looked at him, he had his hand out stretched towards mine, apparently, he had not been asleep at all. I slipped back next to him, and took his hand again.
"Yeah?" I whispered softly, not wanting to wake Fishface.
"It's nothin', I just wanted to talk to ya..." Kerry shut his eyes lightly for a moment, before opening them again. "'Bout what, Kerry?" I said, taking the MacKilligan role and brushing his hair back out of his eyes.
"Just about... stuff." He gave me a half-smile.
"What kind of... stuff?"
He stared at me blankly, "I don't think I deserve you..." he said it plain and simply, "I mean, I get so jealous, and I do things...like this." He stopped, and I finally began to understand what happened...just a bit.
"Don't talk like that Kerry-"
"I'm just tellin' the truth, Shorts. I saw you and Spot together today...and I lost it again. I can't keep doin' things like this...I'm just gonna end up hurtin' you."
I blinked, "You couldn't hurt me Kerry..." he closed his eyes and muttered something that I couldn't understand, and I remembered that afternoon with Spot. I remembered how when I was with him, there seemed to be something more. And I closed my eyes. My God...I couldn't be in love with him. I couldn't love him. I just...couldn't. He had brought misery to my life since the day I left the convent. But then there were those precious moments, when we kissed under the streetlamp, when we sat in the middle of the park and I read Dumas to him. But when I was with Kerry, he made me feel safe, and he cared about me so deeply. So as I sat there, holding Kerry MacKilligan's hand, I had to wonder to myself, was it possible to love two people at once?
Soon, his grip on my hand loosened, and I knew he had fallen asleep. I was about to climb onto the empty mattress nearby and go to sleep myself, but I heard the clubhouse door open and then a shout downstairs. Seeing that neither Kerry nor Fishface had woken up at the sound, I left the room, shutting the door quietly, and went downstairs at a sprint.
Descending the stairway, the first thing that caught my eye was a bruised and bloody Buttons laying on the floor in the middle of the room. Spot and another newsboy were standing over him, and Spot was gaping in shock.
"Wha- what happened?" Spot stuttered and looked from Buttons to the other boy, whom I had seen around a few times before.
I walked over to them and knelt beside Buttons, but neither of the boys said anything to me.
"That fight with MacKilligan, that's what," the boy said matter-of-factly, as if we should have already known.
"MacKilligan and Buttons got into a fight?" Spot still sounded disbelieving.
"Yeah, while we were on our way to the vaudeville show. Buttons was with us when the lot of us ran into MacKilligan, he was comin' back from the pub, dead drunk. Him and Buttons traded a few words, then a few punches. Don't really remember what they was talkin' about, but before long, they both look like this," he pointed towards Buttons, who was laying there panting with his eyes closed. "MacKilligan went off on his own back toward here, and we got to the show and then figured Buttons needed to come back, too."
I just shook my head, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. Looking down at Buttons, I didn't feel the least bit of sympathy for him. It was wrong, but I told myself that he deserved to be hurt. But Kerry, he didn't deserve anything like this.
Spot sighed over my shoulder. "Damn, don't think we can get that doctor to come back tonight." I looked behind me as he stood up and walked towards the wall. "This is just GREAT!" he threw his fist into the side of the clubhouse. "Perfect!" Then came a string of swears from under his breath, as his hand twitched again. For once I could understand why he would need a cigarette so badly. After a moment, he took another deep breath and spoke to the boy who had dragged Buttons in. "Go back to the lodgin' house, we'll figure this out tomorrow." He ran a hand through his hair and swore again.
The boy left, and I just watched Buttons's chest heave up and down with his ragged breathing. He had the worst black circle forming around his eye, and his chin and neck were covered in blood. He looked every bit as terrible as Kerry, and he seemed to be drifting on either side of consciousness.
I pulled my feet out from under me and sat on the floor, and then Spot sat down next to me. We just watched Buttons, as if we were expecting something amazing to happen and he would get up and be the same as always.
Spot laughed softly, "I can't believe this..."
"Neither can I." Standing up, I brushed my skirt off and walked back towards the stairs. "I really need some sleep."
I put my foot on the first step, and then stopped and turned back around. Spot was still sitting on the floor with his back to me, he hadn't even looked up when I'd walked away. Staring at him, I was completely torn between standing there and going back upstairs to Kerry. At that moment, it was easy to hate myself. It took every ounce of will to try and make myself go back upstairs, but it was still impossible. That guilty part of me wouldn't move. Gazing at Spot's back, I knew that I was betraying both him and Kerry... as well as myself.
"What's wrong?" He didn't turn around, but he obviously knew I was still standing there.
"Everything," was all I could think of to say back.
Spot turned and faced me, searching my face for some indication of what I was hiding. I bit my tongue to keep myself from blurting out my terrible secret to him, and tried to find something else to look at, anything but those beautiful green eyes.
"Are you," my voice was soft as I choked out my words. "Are you gonna stay down here with him tonight?"
He took a deep breath and rested his head on his hand. "Might as well, nobody else will." I found the courage to bring my eyes to his, and made one of my own hands into a tight fist behind my back. "You wanna stay down here with me?"
For a moment I fought with temptation to tell him that yes, I would stay down in the main room with him, but I couldn't leave Kerry up there by himself. I shook my head, "No thanks, Spot. I'll see you in the morning though."
The air in the upstairs room was chilly, but Kerry was breathing steadily in his sleep, and Fishface was muttering something unconsciously to herself, and it didn't surprise me when I heard the Cowboy's name throughout the incoherent slur of words.
Slowly, counting the numbers of my breaths as I inhaled and exhaled, I managed to fall asleep, despite how much I had on my mind.
It wasn't the jabbing of Spot Conlon's cane, nor the incessant giggling of Fishface, nor even that God Awful sunlight that awoke me the next morning, but a cough and a slur of swears coming from a mouth that I never thought they would come from.
"Ruth..." I heard Kerry say quietly, "You really shouldn't swear so much..."
Fishface grumbled something and sat down next to her brother, who's eyes met mine from across the room, "You 'wake..." he half-slurred his speech.
"'Mornin'," I muttered.
"Mor-" Kerry's cheeks puffed up before he puked right into the bucket his sister held next to his bed.
"Perhaps for you," Fishface said pointedly. "Kerry's not only injured, but hungover. And it's not a good mix."
"I don't suppose so," I said, trying to smile, but honestly, Kerry looked pathetic. He didn't deserve this. The scars on his face were swelling and he looked as if he were going to be sick again...and he was. I looked away.
When he couldn't vomit anymore, he passed out. It pained me to see him like this, so much that I left without a word and went downstairs in the hopes of finding something more pleasant to think about. But as I reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Buttons still laying stretched out like a corpse, I knew that nothing pleasant would happen today.
I walked over and knelt beside Buttons, and noticed his breathing was slightly more shallow than it had been when I had left him and Spot the night before. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there were just as many scars decorating his face as Kerry's. His good eye was staring at me blankly, like he didn't recognize me at all. It was almost enough to make me pity him, but I remembered that it was because of him that Kerry was laying upstairs coughing up half his insides. Nevertheless, I said a quick prayer for the both of them, not knowing what else I could have done. I prayed that they would both recover soon, selfishly hoping that I wouldn't have to see either of them suffer like this for very long.
After a moment, I decided that sitting there staring at him wouldn't help anything. I needed to get out of the clubhouse, even if just to breathe fresh air out on the docks. So I went out there and sat down like I had so many times before. But unlike every other time, I felt completely alone. I wanted so badly for someone to come out and sit with me, anyone at all. I tried to think, but my mind was completely blank, and I felt as though I wasn't really living that day, just breathing.
I didn't have to sit alone for very long, though. It was about ten minutes before I saw Spot walking towards the docks with Patrick close behind him. A rush of relief ran through me, knowing that my brother would be there for me. I stood up, and both of them saw me. I half-ran to Patrick and threw myself into his arms. He stood there holding me for a moment, and I felt a little better. The three of us walked back toward the clubhouse, not having said a word yet.
Finally, Patrick cleared his throat and spoke. "Well, is he any better this mornin'?"
I knew that he was referring to Kerry, I didn't even know if my brother knew Buttons. "No, he's hung over in addition to all his bruises and cuts."
Spot spoke up, "What about Buttons? He looked really bad when I left."
"He isn't any better either. I think they're both a bit worse."
"I'm gonna go up and see Kerry," it was the first time I could remember Patrick calling Kerry by his first name. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He left Spot and I standing there in silence, neither quite sure what to say.
"Hey," hearing his voice, I looked up from the ground that I had been staring at. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I hate seeing him all beat up like that. So I left, being the selfish person I am." I tried to smile, but it didn't work. "But, um, thanks for bringing Patrick over here. I appreciate it." I smiled again, it was genuine this time.
Spot just shrugged, obviously not seeing the importance in what he had so simply done. "I thought you might want him here to talk to."
I'm not quite sure where it came from, but suddenly the impulse seized me to hug him, and so I did, clutching his shoulders awkwardly. He tried to hold me around the waist just as clumsily, and under other circumstances we probably would have laughed at ourselves. It was comforting to know that there were times that we could laugh together, it made the mood a tiny bit lighter to think that there had been happier days. I had another urge to lay my head down on his shoulder, but there were a hundred reasons floating through my mind not to, the most important lying upstairs in the clubhouse.
Then it hit me. An entire wave of guilt slammed into me, nearly knocking me over. It wasn't Buttons's fault that Kerry was laying up there throwing up everywhere and barely alive. It was mine. It was seeing Spot and I in the park the day before that had led Kerry to go out drinking, I had made him jealous enough to go out drunk alone. My feelings for Spot had hurt the only love I had ever known, and now I had to sit back and watch him become consumed by every pain imaginable. Had any punishment ever been more severe? Had Fate ever been so cruel and unjust? I wanted more than anything to get down on my knees and beg to take it back, change everything so that Kerry would be just as healthy as ever and I could love him as much as he deserved.
I felt tears forming in my eyes, and made a silent vow. Kerry would get better, and I would love him more than ever. Even if I had to take him away from New York, I would make him happy. If there was never any tomorrow, he would have to know that I had loved him. That thought made me smile a bit through my tears, I was going to get to be the hero of this fairy tale.
"You really okay?" Spot stroked my back softly, hearing my breath shaking in my emotional storm.
"I don't know," I leaned back and looked up at him. "But I know that everything will be all right. I can feel it, this will all be over soon."
All he did was gaze back at me curiously. Then his expression softened, and he said the last thing I expected. "I wish there was somethin' more I could do for ya."
He hadn't mentioned Fishface, only me. The mighty Spot Conlon wanted to make me feel better. "Just me?" He gave me another questioning look. "Nobody else?"
That made him smile a bit, "Yeah, just you. You mean more to me than you think, Anabeth."
"I didn't know I meant anything to ya."
Spot opened his mouth to reply, but then Patrick came walking out of the clubhouse. Spot and I separated as quickly as we could, and much to our delight my brother didn't say anything about finding us in each other's arms.
"Hey, Spot, could you maybe leave me and Anabeth alone for a few minutes?"
"Sure," he went back into the clubhouse, hopefully to check on Kerry and Buttons for himself.
I looked anxiously at Patrick, he seemed somewhat uncomfortable.
"I... well, this may not be the best time to tell ya-"
"But you're going to anyway, right?" I interrupted him, and he nodded.
"I... well, I found a place for you and me to stay." As he spoke, I closed my eyes and let it sink in. "It ain't the best place, kinda messy and fallin' apart, but it's affordable, and it's better than nothin', right?" He waited for a response from me, but he didn't get one. "It's not far from the lodgin' house, so I could still work as a newsie in Manhattan and I could probably be able to keep my factory job, too." I still hadn't said anything, I was trying to imagine not being in Brooklyn anymore. The city had become my world, the docks and the clubhouse the only home I knew. The thought of living anywhere else was almost incomprehensible. "But we aren't gonna move in for a little while longer, probably a couple of weeks. Not like we have anything to move into it, anyway." I opened my eyes, and he was struggling to grin as he always did. There was a long silence, then he said, "Is that okay with you?"
The only thing I could offer was a shrug. "Sure." He nodded, and I was desparate to change the subject. "Well... how's Daisy?"
Patrick's face fell a bit, "I wouldn't know. She and I aren't... together anymore." It was his turn to shrug, "She left me last week." I knew that he was trying to make it sound like an easy loss, though he didn't fool me. But I didn't want to say anything more about it.
The next few hours were beyond uneventful. I spent most of the day sitting next to Kerry, watching him fade in and out of conciousness, listening to his thoughtless babbling about headlines and selling, as well as his ragged breath heaving out of his body with difficulty. After awhile he stopped throwing up, much to my relief. Spot stayed away from the upstairs room, I supposed he was keeping an eye on Buttons, who was doing even worse than Kerry. But Fishface spent most of the day alongside her brother and I, neither of us saying much at all.
Late in the afternoon, Fishface decided to go out and find something for us to eat. I hoped that she wouldn't resort to that disgusting stuff that Spot had fed me when I had first come to Brooklyn, I'd made a point of avoiding it ever since.
She had only been gone a few moments when Kerry began to talk again slowly, more to himself than to me.
"I decided that when I'm okay again, you and me are gonna go to Scotland. Not forever though, I just feel like visitin' again... I told you how pretty it is, right? The whole place is just the most beautiful thing in the world, it's better than anything anybody could dream up. You can't even begin to think of how amazing it is till you've seen it for yourself."
I just allowed him to ramble on, not having the heart to stop him.
"I love you, y'know?" Kerry seemed to suddenly remember that I was there. "Have I told ya that before?"
Smiling, I nodded. "Yeah Kerry, you've told me. I love you, too. You don't know how much." I think I said it to reassure myself more than him.
Nodding back at me, his thoughts went back to his homeland. "And there's all these beautiful hills and forests, and the lakes and the..." He went into another coughing fit, and I held a handkerchief up to his mouth just as I had been doing all day.
Kerry didn't cough for very long, and I hoped that it was a sign that he was getting better. As I took the handkerchief away from his mouth, he looked at me strangely, just as if he were seeing me for the first time.
"Kerry?"
He didn't say anything back, he just continued to stare at me, licking his lips and frowning in confusion. Then, a peaceful understanding seemed to come over him, and he tried faintly to smile a bit. But his mouth stayed motionless, and his eyes went blank. The muscles in his face that were trying to smile went still, and he laid his head back softly, just as if he were relaxing from a hard day's work. His eyes were shifting around a bit, and then they froze too, resting intently on me. He stopped moving, and I glanced over him in confusion, a frown creeping across my own lips.
"Kerry?" I said his name again, but with no response. Suddenly I realized how quiet it had become, and reality came crashing down on me. Kerry had stopped breathing.
Sitting there dumbly, I tried to decide whether or not I should believe this was really happening. It had to be some tortuous dream, I had fallen asleep and would wake up any minute and see Kerry laying on my mattress still talking to himself. But after five minutes, he still hadn't moved, and I hadn't woken up.
I stood up quickly and looked down around frantically. Running my hands through my hair, I wanted to rip all of it out. I backed away from the mattress slowly until I felt myself pressing against the wall. Throwing my head back against the wall roughly, I sank down to the floor, feeling every sense leave me. I didn't hear Fishface walk in, I didn't hear her scream and fall down to the floor near where I was sitting. If I heard anything at all, it was only a faint melodious voice humming "Loch Lomond," growing quieter every moment.
* * * *
I stared at Kerry for a few moments longer, but I couldn't take it anymore. His blue eyes were pleading with me to take him somewhere where he could lay down, but he still didn't say anything. I gently put my hand under his arm, and tried to pull him to his feet, for a moment, he couldn't move, and he just grasped at his stomach, but soon, I supposed he mustered all of his strength to stand up, and he did. I would have carried him, had he not been almost a foot taller than me, so for the moment, no matter how much it pained him, he was going to have to walk.
When we finally reached the clubhouse, I contemplated where to put him. The lower room was empty; all the Brooklyn boys had gone to see the vaudeville again, all except Kerry and Spot. After a moments glance around the room for anywhere I could lay him, I determined that the only place to lay him down would be in the upstairs room.
I glanced at him; I could tell that he was having a hard time standing... how on EARTH was I going to get him up the eight stairs? My eyes shifted towards them and I frowned. Suddenly I felt his hand on my shoulder, sneaking like he always did, I jumped.
"I can do it..." It was the first thing he had said that I could clearly understand, though it was still a bit slurred.
I bit my lip nervously. Avoiding his eyes, I put his arm around my shoulder, and one by one, we climbed up each step.
As we stepped in, I heard a shriek and a thump. Fishface.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" She cried out loud, "Kerry, what happened? What happened, Shorts? What happened?" was all she could scream. I shook my head as I shifted Kerry down onto my mattress. He closed his eyes and half-way smiled, as if in thanks.
I turned back around to Fishface, who was backing away, nearly in tears, she was swearing under her breath, "Damn it Kerry, what happened?"
I stared at her and shook my head, and she silenced.
It must have been ten minutes before I heard the tiniest noise but Kerry MacKilligan's rasping breath, and his baby sister trying to suppress her sobs and swears. In fact, it had been so long that I almost jumped when the door to the upstairs room opened, and Spot entered with an unfamiliar man. I stared at him as if he were a lunatic, bringing a stranger in the room.
"You told me to go and get a doctor, he's a doctor!" Spot said, looking around as if he was thinking, 'What? Did I get the wrong guy?'
I stuttered for a moment, "Thanks Spot." I paused before looking over the man, who Spot had apparently awaken from his night's sleep, "His name is Kerry MacKilligan, we found him out on the docks like this... is he going to be okay?" I suddenly realized how panicked I was, and tried to control my breathing.
The doctor blinked at me, "I would like to do a thorough examination, and it would be appreciated if you would all leave the room."
I stared at him blankly. Leave? Now? Not when Kerry was like this. "But Kerry-"
Spot grabbed my arm gently, "He'll be fine with the doctor, Anabeth," he said softly.
Kerry's eyes fluttered open and he said in agreement, "I 'e fi'e." His speech was starting to slur again, and I could hardly understand what he said.
When we exited the room, I stared at the two of my companions. Fishface was positively trembling.
"DAMNIT." Spot suddenly shoved his fist against the wall, and I stared at him, not quite sure what to think, "Damn it..." he said much quieter, turning around and leaning his back against the wall. His hand was twitching...again.
He paced down the stairs, and Fishface followed in suite. And what can I say? I went after them.
Spot continued, "God. Why does MacKilligan always have to get himself so goddamn drunk all the time?" He practically shouted, "I mean, he's got a girl, he's got a job, what the hell could be so bad that he has ta go gettin hisself all drunk all the goddamn time?"
Fishface stared at Spot, nearly in tears as she sunk down onto a crate, I stared at Spot in disbelief. How could he say something like that? He glanced over at the brunette, sobbing now, he looked regretful for a moment, and another silence fell over us. This time, however, Ruth MacKilligan openly sobbed her eyes out.
It must have been a half hour before the doctor finally emerged the room. He looked a bit annoyed, yet not completely upset.
"He'll be alright," My heart leapt, "Just let him rest up there for a few days, and don't even think about moving him."
Spot thanked the doctor, and he left, leaving Spot, Fishface, and myself standing in the lower room of the clubhouse. Fishface was wiping away her tears, and nodding to herself, reassuring herself that the doctor was right. Spot had finally found a cigarette, and I wiped my hands off on my skirt before stating, "I'm going up to see him."
As soon as I had got up to the third stair, I knew that Fishface was only a step underneath me, and honestly, I couldn't blame her. If Patrick had come home looking like that, I would be upset too.
When I opened the door, I saw Kerry laying there still. He coughed a bit, and opened his eyes to look at us, "Anabeth... Ruthy..."
I smiled lightly and walked further into the room, kneeling down onto the floor next to him. His younger sister followed in suite.
"Hey Ruth," He said, his speech wasn't so slurred anymore, "Couldjya take me slingshot out of me back pocket... it's painin' my backside." He gave his sister a half-smile, and she wiped away the last of her tears for the night, "Don't cry..."
Fishface laughed, perhaps a little dryly, "You scared me -us- so badly Kerry." She brushed some of the hair out of his face, the way he always did to me when he was worried, "I thought you were gonna die."
Kerry gave her another half-smile as she leaned over and pulled the slingshot out of his back pocket, "I'm never gonna die, Ruthy."
"You'd better not, MacKilligan," She playfully grinned at her brother. "Or you'll have me to deal with. And I bet that impeccable aim of yours was inherited from somewhere." She aimed the unloaded slingshot at him and laughed. I remembered that I had once wondered whether or not Kerry and Fishface had moments like Patrick and I did, and I smiled as I witnessed one such moment.
After a few more moments of conversation with her brother, Fishface informed us that she was going to try to get some sleep; she had had a tiring day (Though I wasn't quite sure where she had gone). I sat next to Kerry, holding his hand, smiling softly. I told myself that I wouldn't go to sleep until I was almost certain he was in his own world of dreams, and as he breathed steadily, I let go of his hand, slipping towards another corner, where a vacant mattress lay. I had slept on the same one since I'd come to Brooklyn, but that night, it was occupied.
"Wai'" I heard Kerry slur, I turned around and looked at him, he had his hand out stretched towards mine, apparently, he had not been asleep at all. I slipped back next to him, and took his hand again.
"Yeah?" I whispered softly, not wanting to wake Fishface.
"It's nothin', I just wanted to talk to ya..." Kerry shut his eyes lightly for a moment, before opening them again. "'Bout what, Kerry?" I said, taking the MacKilligan role and brushing his hair back out of his eyes.
"Just about... stuff." He gave me a half-smile.
"What kind of... stuff?"
He stared at me blankly, "I don't think I deserve you..." he said it plain and simply, "I mean, I get so jealous, and I do things...like this." He stopped, and I finally began to understand what happened...just a bit.
"Don't talk like that Kerry-"
"I'm just tellin' the truth, Shorts. I saw you and Spot together today...and I lost it again. I can't keep doin' things like this...I'm just gonna end up hurtin' you."
I blinked, "You couldn't hurt me Kerry..." he closed his eyes and muttered something that I couldn't understand, and I remembered that afternoon with Spot. I remembered how when I was with him, there seemed to be something more. And I closed my eyes. My God...I couldn't be in love with him. I couldn't love him. I just...couldn't. He had brought misery to my life since the day I left the convent. But then there were those precious moments, when we kissed under the streetlamp, when we sat in the middle of the park and I read Dumas to him. But when I was with Kerry, he made me feel safe, and he cared about me so deeply. So as I sat there, holding Kerry MacKilligan's hand, I had to wonder to myself, was it possible to love two people at once?
Soon, his grip on my hand loosened, and I knew he had fallen asleep. I was about to climb onto the empty mattress nearby and go to sleep myself, but I heard the clubhouse door open and then a shout downstairs. Seeing that neither Kerry nor Fishface had woken up at the sound, I left the room, shutting the door quietly, and went downstairs at a sprint.
Descending the stairway, the first thing that caught my eye was a bruised and bloody Buttons laying on the floor in the middle of the room. Spot and another newsboy were standing over him, and Spot was gaping in shock.
"Wha- what happened?" Spot stuttered and looked from Buttons to the other boy, whom I had seen around a few times before.
I walked over to them and knelt beside Buttons, but neither of the boys said anything to me.
"That fight with MacKilligan, that's what," the boy said matter-of-factly, as if we should have already known.
"MacKilligan and Buttons got into a fight?" Spot still sounded disbelieving.
"Yeah, while we were on our way to the vaudeville show. Buttons was with us when the lot of us ran into MacKilligan, he was comin' back from the pub, dead drunk. Him and Buttons traded a few words, then a few punches. Don't really remember what they was talkin' about, but before long, they both look like this," he pointed towards Buttons, who was laying there panting with his eyes closed. "MacKilligan went off on his own back toward here, and we got to the show and then figured Buttons needed to come back, too."
I just shook my head, not wanting to believe what I was hearing. Looking down at Buttons, I didn't feel the least bit of sympathy for him. It was wrong, but I told myself that he deserved to be hurt. But Kerry, he didn't deserve anything like this.
Spot sighed over my shoulder. "Damn, don't think we can get that doctor to come back tonight." I looked behind me as he stood up and walked towards the wall. "This is just GREAT!" he threw his fist into the side of the clubhouse. "Perfect!" Then came a string of swears from under his breath, as his hand twitched again. For once I could understand why he would need a cigarette so badly. After a moment, he took another deep breath and spoke to the boy who had dragged Buttons in. "Go back to the lodgin' house, we'll figure this out tomorrow." He ran a hand through his hair and swore again.
The boy left, and I just watched Buttons's chest heave up and down with his ragged breathing. He had the worst black circle forming around his eye, and his chin and neck were covered in blood. He looked every bit as terrible as Kerry, and he seemed to be drifting on either side of consciousness.
I pulled my feet out from under me and sat on the floor, and then Spot sat down next to me. We just watched Buttons, as if we were expecting something amazing to happen and he would get up and be the same as always.
Spot laughed softly, "I can't believe this..."
"Neither can I." Standing up, I brushed my skirt off and walked back towards the stairs. "I really need some sleep."
I put my foot on the first step, and then stopped and turned back around. Spot was still sitting on the floor with his back to me, he hadn't even looked up when I'd walked away. Staring at him, I was completely torn between standing there and going back upstairs to Kerry. At that moment, it was easy to hate myself. It took every ounce of will to try and make myself go back upstairs, but it was still impossible. That guilty part of me wouldn't move. Gazing at Spot's back, I knew that I was betraying both him and Kerry... as well as myself.
"What's wrong?" He didn't turn around, but he obviously knew I was still standing there.
"Everything," was all I could think of to say back.
Spot turned and faced me, searching my face for some indication of what I was hiding. I bit my tongue to keep myself from blurting out my terrible secret to him, and tried to find something else to look at, anything but those beautiful green eyes.
"Are you," my voice was soft as I choked out my words. "Are you gonna stay down here with him tonight?"
He took a deep breath and rested his head on his hand. "Might as well, nobody else will." I found the courage to bring my eyes to his, and made one of my own hands into a tight fist behind my back. "You wanna stay down here with me?"
For a moment I fought with temptation to tell him that yes, I would stay down in the main room with him, but I couldn't leave Kerry up there by himself. I shook my head, "No thanks, Spot. I'll see you in the morning though."
The air in the upstairs room was chilly, but Kerry was breathing steadily in his sleep, and Fishface was muttering something unconsciously to herself, and it didn't surprise me when I heard the Cowboy's name throughout the incoherent slur of words.
Slowly, counting the numbers of my breaths as I inhaled and exhaled, I managed to fall asleep, despite how much I had on my mind.
It wasn't the jabbing of Spot Conlon's cane, nor the incessant giggling of Fishface, nor even that God Awful sunlight that awoke me the next morning, but a cough and a slur of swears coming from a mouth that I never thought they would come from.
"Ruth..." I heard Kerry say quietly, "You really shouldn't swear so much..."
Fishface grumbled something and sat down next to her brother, who's eyes met mine from across the room, "You 'wake..." he half-slurred his speech.
"'Mornin'," I muttered.
"Mor-" Kerry's cheeks puffed up before he puked right into the bucket his sister held next to his bed.
"Perhaps for you," Fishface said pointedly. "Kerry's not only injured, but hungover. And it's not a good mix."
"I don't suppose so," I said, trying to smile, but honestly, Kerry looked pathetic. He didn't deserve this. The scars on his face were swelling and he looked as if he were going to be sick again...and he was. I looked away.
When he couldn't vomit anymore, he passed out. It pained me to see him like this, so much that I left without a word and went downstairs in the hopes of finding something more pleasant to think about. But as I reached the bottom of the stairs and saw Buttons still laying stretched out like a corpse, I knew that nothing pleasant would happen today.
I walked over and knelt beside Buttons, and noticed his breathing was slightly more shallow than it had been when I had left him and Spot the night before. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and there were just as many scars decorating his face as Kerry's. His good eye was staring at me blankly, like he didn't recognize me at all. It was almost enough to make me pity him, but I remembered that it was because of him that Kerry was laying upstairs coughing up half his insides. Nevertheless, I said a quick prayer for the both of them, not knowing what else I could have done. I prayed that they would both recover soon, selfishly hoping that I wouldn't have to see either of them suffer like this for very long.
After a moment, I decided that sitting there staring at him wouldn't help anything. I needed to get out of the clubhouse, even if just to breathe fresh air out on the docks. So I went out there and sat down like I had so many times before. But unlike every other time, I felt completely alone. I wanted so badly for someone to come out and sit with me, anyone at all. I tried to think, but my mind was completely blank, and I felt as though I wasn't really living that day, just breathing.
I didn't have to sit alone for very long, though. It was about ten minutes before I saw Spot walking towards the docks with Patrick close behind him. A rush of relief ran through me, knowing that my brother would be there for me. I stood up, and both of them saw me. I half-ran to Patrick and threw myself into his arms. He stood there holding me for a moment, and I felt a little better. The three of us walked back toward the clubhouse, not having said a word yet.
Finally, Patrick cleared his throat and spoke. "Well, is he any better this mornin'?"
I knew that he was referring to Kerry, I didn't even know if my brother knew Buttons. "No, he's hung over in addition to all his bruises and cuts."
Spot spoke up, "What about Buttons? He looked really bad when I left."
"He isn't any better either. I think they're both a bit worse."
"I'm gonna go up and see Kerry," it was the first time I could remember Patrick calling Kerry by his first name. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He left Spot and I standing there in silence, neither quite sure what to say.
"Hey," hearing his voice, I looked up from the ground that I had been staring at. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just... I hate seeing him all beat up like that. So I left, being the selfish person I am." I tried to smile, but it didn't work. "But, um, thanks for bringing Patrick over here. I appreciate it." I smiled again, it was genuine this time.
Spot just shrugged, obviously not seeing the importance in what he had so simply done. "I thought you might want him here to talk to."
I'm not quite sure where it came from, but suddenly the impulse seized me to hug him, and so I did, clutching his shoulders awkwardly. He tried to hold me around the waist just as clumsily, and under other circumstances we probably would have laughed at ourselves. It was comforting to know that there were times that we could laugh together, it made the mood a tiny bit lighter to think that there had been happier days. I had another urge to lay my head down on his shoulder, but there were a hundred reasons floating through my mind not to, the most important lying upstairs in the clubhouse.
Then it hit me. An entire wave of guilt slammed into me, nearly knocking me over. It wasn't Buttons's fault that Kerry was laying up there throwing up everywhere and barely alive. It was mine. It was seeing Spot and I in the park the day before that had led Kerry to go out drinking, I had made him jealous enough to go out drunk alone. My feelings for Spot had hurt the only love I had ever known, and now I had to sit back and watch him become consumed by every pain imaginable. Had any punishment ever been more severe? Had Fate ever been so cruel and unjust? I wanted more than anything to get down on my knees and beg to take it back, change everything so that Kerry would be just as healthy as ever and I could love him as much as he deserved.
I felt tears forming in my eyes, and made a silent vow. Kerry would get better, and I would love him more than ever. Even if I had to take him away from New York, I would make him happy. If there was never any tomorrow, he would have to know that I had loved him. That thought made me smile a bit through my tears, I was going to get to be the hero of this fairy tale.
"You really okay?" Spot stroked my back softly, hearing my breath shaking in my emotional storm.
"I don't know," I leaned back and looked up at him. "But I know that everything will be all right. I can feel it, this will all be over soon."
All he did was gaze back at me curiously. Then his expression softened, and he said the last thing I expected. "I wish there was somethin' more I could do for ya."
He hadn't mentioned Fishface, only me. The mighty Spot Conlon wanted to make me feel better. "Just me?" He gave me another questioning look. "Nobody else?"
That made him smile a bit, "Yeah, just you. You mean more to me than you think, Anabeth."
"I didn't know I meant anything to ya."
Spot opened his mouth to reply, but then Patrick came walking out of the clubhouse. Spot and I separated as quickly as we could, and much to our delight my brother didn't say anything about finding us in each other's arms.
"Hey, Spot, could you maybe leave me and Anabeth alone for a few minutes?"
"Sure," he went back into the clubhouse, hopefully to check on Kerry and Buttons for himself.
I looked anxiously at Patrick, he seemed somewhat uncomfortable.
"I... well, this may not be the best time to tell ya-"
"But you're going to anyway, right?" I interrupted him, and he nodded.
"I... well, I found a place for you and me to stay." As he spoke, I closed my eyes and let it sink in. "It ain't the best place, kinda messy and fallin' apart, but it's affordable, and it's better than nothin', right?" He waited for a response from me, but he didn't get one. "It's not far from the lodgin' house, so I could still work as a newsie in Manhattan and I could probably be able to keep my factory job, too." I still hadn't said anything, I was trying to imagine not being in Brooklyn anymore. The city had become my world, the docks and the clubhouse the only home I knew. The thought of living anywhere else was almost incomprehensible. "But we aren't gonna move in for a little while longer, probably a couple of weeks. Not like we have anything to move into it, anyway." I opened my eyes, and he was struggling to grin as he always did. There was a long silence, then he said, "Is that okay with you?"
The only thing I could offer was a shrug. "Sure." He nodded, and I was desparate to change the subject. "Well... how's Daisy?"
Patrick's face fell a bit, "I wouldn't know. She and I aren't... together anymore." It was his turn to shrug, "She left me last week." I knew that he was trying to make it sound like an easy loss, though he didn't fool me. But I didn't want to say anything more about it.
The next few hours were beyond uneventful. I spent most of the day sitting next to Kerry, watching him fade in and out of conciousness, listening to his thoughtless babbling about headlines and selling, as well as his ragged breath heaving out of his body with difficulty. After awhile he stopped throwing up, much to my relief. Spot stayed away from the upstairs room, I supposed he was keeping an eye on Buttons, who was doing even worse than Kerry. But Fishface spent most of the day alongside her brother and I, neither of us saying much at all.
Late in the afternoon, Fishface decided to go out and find something for us to eat. I hoped that she wouldn't resort to that disgusting stuff that Spot had fed me when I had first come to Brooklyn, I'd made a point of avoiding it ever since.
She had only been gone a few moments when Kerry began to talk again slowly, more to himself than to me.
"I decided that when I'm okay again, you and me are gonna go to Scotland. Not forever though, I just feel like visitin' again... I told you how pretty it is, right? The whole place is just the most beautiful thing in the world, it's better than anything anybody could dream up. You can't even begin to think of how amazing it is till you've seen it for yourself."
I just allowed him to ramble on, not having the heart to stop him.
"I love you, y'know?" Kerry seemed to suddenly remember that I was there. "Have I told ya that before?"
Smiling, I nodded. "Yeah Kerry, you've told me. I love you, too. You don't know how much." I think I said it to reassure myself more than him.
Nodding back at me, his thoughts went back to his homeland. "And there's all these beautiful hills and forests, and the lakes and the..." He went into another coughing fit, and I held a handkerchief up to his mouth just as I had been doing all day.
Kerry didn't cough for very long, and I hoped that it was a sign that he was getting better. As I took the handkerchief away from his mouth, he looked at me strangely, just as if he were seeing me for the first time.
"Kerry?"
He didn't say anything back, he just continued to stare at me, licking his lips and frowning in confusion. Then, a peaceful understanding seemed to come over him, and he tried faintly to smile a bit. But his mouth stayed motionless, and his eyes went blank. The muscles in his face that were trying to smile went still, and he laid his head back softly, just as if he were relaxing from a hard day's work. His eyes were shifting around a bit, and then they froze too, resting intently on me. He stopped moving, and I glanced over him in confusion, a frown creeping across my own lips.
"Kerry?" I said his name again, but with no response. Suddenly I realized how quiet it had become, and reality came crashing down on me. Kerry had stopped breathing.
Sitting there dumbly, I tried to decide whether or not I should believe this was really happening. It had to be some tortuous dream, I had fallen asleep and would wake up any minute and see Kerry laying on my mattress still talking to himself. But after five minutes, he still hadn't moved, and I hadn't woken up.
I stood up quickly and looked down around frantically. Running my hands through my hair, I wanted to rip all of it out. I backed away from the mattress slowly until I felt myself pressing against the wall. Throwing my head back against the wall roughly, I sank down to the floor, feeling every sense leave me. I didn't hear Fishface walk in, I didn't hear her scream and fall down to the floor near where I was sitting. If I heard anything at all, it was only a faint melodious voice humming "Loch Lomond," growing quieter every moment.