DISCLAIMER: Basically, to put it in simple dictation, all the characters in
Disney's Newsies belong to Disney. *SuRpRiSe* All the characters NOT in
Disney's Newsies belong to me, with the exception of Angel-she belongs to
herself. ^_^
A.N. We're Going To Break 300 Reviews!!! Dear God!!! LoL! Thanks so much y'all! For everyone who's reviewed: YOU ROCK! 300, 300, 300...here we come!!! *Dewey plays the violin as Runner sports an Irish jig* WoW! Five more chapters! I'm a bit scared now; what if I'm not able to wrap it up? lol. I hope that won't be a problem! Thanks for all the reviews! SHOUT- OUTS:
~Sweetness: Oh, don't worry. Spot will definitely find out about Runner's knowledge concerning Valentine's Night. *snickers* A sequel? Hmmm, I don't think this story's in the market for one just yet, but maybe later on (as in next summer, lol) it will be.
~Rhapsody: You missed a chapter? Surprise, surprise. Runner was near sobbing when he found out his number one fan had abandoned him. Hahaha. Considering you like Runner so much, I feel it my duty to tell you he'll be the main character in my upcoming story "Eternal Avenger". ^_^ In any case, thanks for the reviews!
~Deanie: Ay! Happy Belated Birthday! *Runner and the newsies sing their wishes and add in pelvic thrusts* Muahaha. So how old are youse now, m'goil? ^_^ Glad you're still tackling down this whopper of a story, lol. Thanks for the review; hope ya like this chapter!
~Dimples: w00t w00t! You have to update "Opening Up" soon! I want to read more about Meg and Jack. And of course about me and the 'oh so sexy' Spot Conlon. Heehee. So write fast!! *pleads*
~asp: Yea, well don't speak too soon. Who knows what other arguments might surface between Spot and Snap. *rolls eyes* lol. Never trust a Conlon, that's my motto. *Spot glares at her* What!?
~Spider Chick: Don't worry; you're not getting repetitive. Haha. I like when people say they want more. It gives me more incentive to write quickly. So here's another chapter for you! I hope you enjoy it!
~Meredith: Thanks for the review! Race and Becca ARE cute, aren't they? Heehee. *pinches their cheeks* I hope their relationship isn't coming off too sappy though, is it? Ah well, this story needs some loving with all the betrayal and arguments going around. ^_^
~Chimes: New reviewers rock! W00t w00t! Thanks for taking the time out to read this massive thing, lol. I'm glad you were kept interested in the storyline throughout 24 chapters. Here's another chapter! Enjoy!
~CiCi: Were you really crying? I love it when my stories make people cry. *thinks* I mean that in the most nicest way, though. Hahaha. It's just that it makes me think that maybe I made someone felt something...ah, I dunno. Have a good read this time around!
~NinaC: Awww, this story touches your heart, you say? That's so sweet. *snuggles up with a terrified Runner* heehee, sorry. I just get really emotional when people say stuff like that about my stories. It makes me feel good. ^_^ So anyhow, here's an update! Hope you like it!
~Inquisitive: Aww, thanks for the kind feedback! It always makes me feel good when someone says I'm a great writer, even though I still think I could use a lot of improvement, lol. But thanks so much and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!
~Imaginelet: Yea, Race wants to wait. I didn't want all the guys to be horn- dogs, lol. ^_^ And besides, it's a nice ordeal to uphold. Ah, Mallory and Runner. There's some major strife there. But hold in there, my faithful reviewer, perhaps they'll work past their differences one day. Heehee.
~StupidChocolateGurl: Spot? Snap? *the two glare at each other* Hahaha, shhhh, don't speak too soon! They still have a lot of tangles to work out. But maybe they will get together in the end after all. *shrugs* Who knows? But thanks so much for all the reviews!
~*Just A Little Bet*~
Angel tiredly walked down the halls of the floor making up the hospital's third story and wished she had taken up the head pediatrician's offer on a short break from her internship. Checking in countless patients a day, organizing files in a room full of cabinets, and seeing her share of fractured bones, concussions, and bloody accidents wasn't necessarily her idea of having a good time. She knew that if she proceeded to surround herself with such catastrophe, she would only grow indifferent in time.
'Oh, just another coma,' she imagined herself saying one day. 'Ah, another failed childbirth? What a shame!' She shuddered at the mere notion. She didn't want to become apathetic as many of the doctors around her had become. There was still room for tears whenever a family was mourning the loss of a loved one; there was still room for condolences when a parent was worried over their ill-stricken child.
Perhaps she would take Dr. Ramsey up on that offer, after all. She rubbed her eyes in efforts to rid them of their fatigue and hurried off to relieve her co-workers from night-duty. She wasn't late, but it was always her preference to arrive to her assigned job ten minutes before her shift began. If her timing was correct, she only had four minutes to stay true to that habit.
She greeted the west wing's janitor with a warm smile, her eyes apologizing for streaking the floors he had just mopped. He only laughed lightly and waved her on her way. Angel quickened her leisurely pace into a minor jog afterwards and hoped she'd be the first on her midnight staff to show up. As she was passing a corner, however, someone grasped her arms tightly behind her back, one hand smacking over her mouth, and pulled the girl into a corner where the overhead lamp had dimmed out.
Angel struggled with all her strength, managing to free an arm and elbow her violator in the gut. When his grip on her loosened, she spun around to face him with intentions to slam a fist into his jaw, but when she saw who the young man was, she gasped. "Blink!? What the hell are you trying to pull off??"
Wrapping his arms around his lower stomach, Blink moaned in pain and rested his body against a wall in support. "I see those self-defense classes have paid off."
"Are you...are you okay?" She reached out to him but he flinched back and shot her a look of warning. She rolled her eyes, in turn, and gave him a sarcastic smile. "Well, maybe you shouldn't be parading in hospital hallways after hours, hmm?"
"I came tah see youse," he said simply, as if that made right his trespass.
Angel sighed. "Blink, we're not right for each other. I mean, the relationship was great and all, but..." He put two fingers to her lips to silence her but she wrenched her head away with a glare. She had had enough of his excuses; what ridiculous apologies would his conniving mind make up now? She crossed her arms and waited with pursed lips.
"Angel, please. I know I'se hasn't exactly been the poifect boyfriend. Tah be honest with meself, I'd say I wasn't much a boyfriend at all. I've cheated on ya and lied tah ya, and only came tah visit youse when it suited me." Without his useless patch, she was able to see both his eyes...their blue irises burdened with sadness and pain. "I'm sorry, goil. Ya gotta believe me."
"No," she righted him, "I don't have to believe any crap ya throw my way. For five months you had me thinking you were the greatest thing to come into my life. But guess what? I grew up. I got me a nice job now, a new set of friends, and a real life. And I'm not going to let you ruin that all again by breaking my heart." Her gaze might as well should've been carved from stone, for it would never soften. She turned away from him, but he snatched her wrist and pulled her back pleadingly.
"Gimme another chance! We'll go slow this time, real slow! C'mon, all I'm askin' for is a relationship. Aside from sleepin' together and kissin' ya and all that other stuff I took advantage of when we'se was somethin'. It aint what I'm thinking 'bout now. I only want tah be with youse." He gently grabbed her hands, raised them to his lips, and planted a kiss on the palm of each never once taking his eyes off hers. "Please, Angel? Please don't throw away what we had."
She couldn't detect a single fiber of dishonesty in him. He was being truthful and open with her, attributes she had never known when dating him. But could she take him up on his word? Would he do his best to remain loyal, or was this only another front he was infamous for putting on when dealing with the ladies. Her temper left, a sense of uncertainty lingered behind. "I don't know...maybe we should just talk for now."
"Talkin' is fine with me." His smile was a bright one. "I'm so sorry, though, that I'se threw away all we had for some short-lived fun. Now lookin' back on it, it wasn't woith it. Youse gots class, goil and you desoived better than me." He squeezed his fingers to show his meaning behind the following words. "But I'm tryin' real hard tah be the man ya need me tah be, and I hope we'se can woik past everything eventually."
She nodded with a smile. "We'll see what happens." Suddenly remembering her job, she cursed under her breath then and snatched her hands back, bringing one to her forehead sharply to scold her for her forgetfulness. "Oh great! I was s'pose to report to the desk by now!"
"What?"
"Ugh! Now damned Jennifer will probably get 'intern of the week'! I can't believe this!" She tangled her fingers with her hair in frustration and marched off muttering things under her breath. Blink caught up with her seconds later and threw her a confused look. "I'm late, the hospital staff doesn't smile upon stuff like that," she said simply.
He bobbed his head in understanding, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry if I, uh...if I made ya lose track of the time...."
"No you're not," she shot back at him.
"Huh?"
She stopped in her tracks and gave him a playful smirk. "You aren't the least bit sorry about any of this. As a matter of fact, when you leave this place, you'll probably be clicking your heels all the way back to the lodging house." She arched an eyebrow and challenged him to refute her statement.
He backed her up against a wall and planted a hand on either side of her shoulders, grinning down at her. "Now why would ya say somethin' like that, Meow? I'se always lookin' out fer ya best interest."
"Oh, maybe because of this..." she grabbed his face in her hands and brought his lips to her in a hard kiss. She knew she probably shouldn't be toying with his feelings as so, but she had every good reason to believe she'd eventually forgive him, let him chase her some more, and then revive the relationship. Besides, she was pretty late, and she could only imagine the look on her supervisor's face when Angel explained to her exactly what had kept her busy.
~*~*~*~*~
"Father, I just received a telegram from your doctor." Mallory walked into her father's room holding a piece of paper from which she was reading. "He says that you won't be needing the assistance of a home-bound nurse any longer. I, I don't understand." She furrowed her forehead in confusion and looked to him where he lay upon his bed for answers.
Mr. Carter smiled at his daughter, trying to contain some inward excitement. "Mallory, dear. The doctors were somewhat wrong in their diagnosis of my condition."
The girl sat down onto a rocking chair across from him and leaned forward. "What are you talking about?"
"Darling, when the electrician came over the other day to fix the sitting room's lighting while you were at school, he noticed a leakage from one of the vents in the hallway. He saw to the nature of the problem and discovered that fungus was growing within the inner-linings of our ceiling, the same kind of fungi that attach to the lung complexes in our body to inhibit normal breathing.
"Surely you remember that when we first moved into this house, my bronchitis wasn't as bad as it has been these past few weeks. Now we know why! Over the years, the fungus was growing and drastically affecting my health!"
Mallory wasn't quick to accept the explanation. After all, her father had suffered from terrible conditions of bronchitis before. And how could the doctors be wrong in their diagnosis? "Father...are you absolutely sure? I mean, cleaning out all that fungus might've just made our air cleaner. But how can you say you're cured of all your illnesses now?"
Mr. Carter wouldn't let her pessimism dampen his spirits. He continued to relate the details just as happily as when he had first begun. "You aren't susceptible to the fungus, Mallory. Your lungs don't have asthmatic tendencies. Mine do. And I'm not saying I'm 100 percent healthy from now on, only that my bronchitis isn't as bad as we had originally thought.
"The electrician suggested I hire a lawyer and file a lawsuit against this building's owner for not keeping up with sanitation and general cleaning. If we get the other tenants involved, imagine what a force we'd be in that court against one man!" His eyes grew wide with excitement and he sat up straighter against his bed's headboard. "If we win the claim, your college tuition would be paid in full, I'd be able to obtain whatever job pleased me...we could even afford a new house!"
"Father, that all sounds quite nice, but..."
"You must have faith," the man told her. "Look, our prayers have pulled me through and we're on the verge of reeling in large amounts of money! I think this calls for a celebration!"
Mallory had never seen her father so lively. The past few weeks he always appeared to be unwillingly to see another day, black patches of tiredness growing under his eyes and his body weakening in strength. But now his face was brighter than ever as he began to plot all the ways he would like to spend the money he believed would soon be theirs. He let out a light cough and, clearing his throat, asked the girl if she would be so kind as to make him a cup of tea. "Our neighbors brought me a new Oriental mixture," he told her. "I've placed the packets in the top cabinet. Make a cup for yourself if you'd like to try it."
She nodded her head and left the room in a daze. Could this really be happening? She swore; if it wasn't one thing nagging at her, it was another. When things were going great between herself and Runner...she had her father to worry over. And now that Mr. Carter apparently seemed to be able to tend to himself these days, matters had reversed and Runner was the one her concern was on.
As she walked into the kitchen, she reached down to pet Daisy on the head as the cocker spaniel puppy laid asleep on a cushion, before going on to make her father's tea.
"Mallory, darling," her father called out to her from his room. "Perhaps we should invite some friends over, to bring cheers to my health! You may even invite the cousins; Spot and Lucas were their names? I haven't seen them in quite a while. How's the younger one doing? Still in the hospital?"
"No, he was released," she called back while filling a kettle with water. He rambled on about setting a date for a party, but Mallory's mind had already escaped his grasp. How she wished that Lucas was here, his arms around her...giving her the kiss they had yet to finish...
~*~*~*~*~
Runner bit down hard on the cigarette in his mouth, as if he willed the tobacco enclosed within to drain from the paper onto his tongue like poisonous soot. He had forgotten how addictive the nicotine could be. He licked the inside frame of the cigarette, his moral void longing for another inhale, his mind coiling away at the thought. He was never one to deny the former.
With a smirk, he greeted his cousin with a nod. Spot was leaning against a pillar of the docks, his arm nonchalantly gripping the structure and his wolf-like eyes gazing out at his 'kingdom' with a silver glow. He pushed himself off the pillar upon seeing Runner and stood to his feet in a proud stance, one of glory and vanity.
"Youse back into smokin', huh?" The tone by which he had uttered the words made it a blatant statement, rather than a question.
Runner only gave him a shrug in reply. "Old habits die hard." Spot fell into step beside him and the two walked the lengths of the docks, which were by now vacant of any newsboys as it was hours past dusk. The younger Conlon took one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground carelessly and crushing its form with the heel of his boot. Suited with the destruction, he shoved his hands down the pockets of his pants and listened to the churning waters below him. Their monotonous melody almost carried him away to a dreamland, but he soon awoke and only found himself staring out to an endless sheet of obsidian, so dark were their waves.
"So, how's life treatin' ya kid?" Seeing his cousin's lack of banter made Spot uneasy for the briefest moment. What bothered the younger so?
Runner let out a small sigh, one that sounded as if it should have escaped the lips of a young boy...a boy carefree and infantile, who had never known false love, or betrayal. He battled with himself for half a second, wondering whether he should bring the matter up or simply forget it. His mouth was quicker than his musings. "Why'd ya do it, Spot?"
The elder turned to look at him. "Do what?"
"Mallory came to see me in my room the other day," Runner replied in his polished rich accent. "To catch up on things...but more so to confess something to me." His roughened drawl inflamed. "Damnit, Spot! Why'd ya do it? Ya knew as much as the next guy that I'se cared 'bout 'er! Ya me cousin, why would ya do somethin' like that? For a damn bet? Would ya really betray me for a damn bet?!"
Spot's expression mirrored his admission of guilt, something he rarely showed. "Lucas, look. I'm sorry, alright...?"
"No! It's not alright! Alright is not layin' a finger on 'er! Alright is stayin' a hundred yards from 'er at all times! But youse bein' sorry?! That's not alright!"
It had taken every ounce of his patience to stifle a violent act until now, but Spot could no longer hold his temper in check. He turned on the boy, seizing Runner's shirt collar and slamming him into a pier upon which he held him down in a death grip. "Don't think for one minute that youse can march over heah and start preachin' tah me, ya understand that? I'll be me own judge of what's right and wrong. If youse can't deal with that, go dig a hole and throw yaself in it."
When he let him go, Runner was so startled by the attack that he nearly stumbled when he gained his freedom. Stabilizing his footing, he glared at Spot and fixed out the wrinkles in his shirt with near-shaking hands. "I see nothing's changed in ya," he spat out. "Still the arrogant Brooklyn jackass that don't give a damn when he hoits someone."
"Ya know what, Runnah? Cut the crap; ya makin' it sound like me and Mallory actually did somethin' promiscuous."
"That's a big woid, there, Spotty. Where'd ya get it from, the papes?" He dodged away in time to miss Spot's lunge, but he wasn't quick enough to evade the leader's backhand, which sent him tripping onto the hardwood of the docks. His head throbbed from the blow, but he wouldn't pronounce his pain with a wince. Instead, he climbed to his feet and continued their stare-down. "Nothin' promiscuous, then, huh? I guess to reach that stage, you'd have to not only steal ya cousin's goil and sleep with 'er, but also get 'er pregnant and then run off with the goil's muddah."
Spot rolled his eyes at the detailed elaboration. Where did the kid derive his imagination from? "I guess we'll never find out. I don't really intend on sleepin' with Mallory...and well, her muddah's dead, remember? So much for that trip."
"Ya mean ya don't intend on sleepin with 'er AGAIN," the other corrected.
"If that's what I meant, I would've said it."
Runner straightened up from his fighting stance, his eyes flickering with skepticism. "Is this some kinda joke?"
Spot shrugged. "I guess so, cause anyone should know that youse can't beat me in a fight if ya life depended on it." The Brooklyn leader started for his cousin again, but stopped short when Runner made no bodily signs of attempting a defense. Instead, the younger Conlon backed away shaking his head ever so slightly, disbelief written all over his face. "What's the problem now, youse in denial?"
"Ya didn't...sleep with 'er?"
Spot groaned. "How may times is we'se gunna go over this?"
They had by now reached the edifice that was the Brooklyn lodging house and were apparently intending on entering the building. Spot followed closely behind a fuming Runner, the boy's shoulders tense and his fists clenched tightly. For the life of him, Spot had yet to figure out what the hell was the kid's problem. Up ahead, a light post shone its rays onto the path before them, making the newsboys' welcome sign of clearer appearance as they neared.
When they were within ample distance of the lodge, Runner brought back an arm and sent a blow into the glass pane of a window, not even flinching as the crystal shards embedded themselves into his skin, crimson bands streaming down his hand. The loud shattering caused Spot to jump in surprise; it also alarmed several of the Brooklynites within the building and they flooded out onto the walks within seconds. Confusion shrouded them when they found Spot Conlon wrapping his very own shirt around Runner's blood-soaked fingers, the younger of the two highly agitated, though his anger seemed to be directed elsewhere.
Scapegoat stepped forward hesitantly and cleared his throat for attention. "Uhm...everything, uh, okay?"
"Gimme some gauze from Mistah Scaparti's first aid cabinet, Scape? And some water too. And make it quick." The newsie turned on his heels at the stern order and hurried off to retrieve the items in question. Spot glanced at the others gathered around and groaned. Why hadn't he taught his Brooky's that a problem didn't belong to them if they weren't directly involved? He snapped at them. "Clear out, all a' youse. 'Less ya want a nice shinah of ya own, get back inside!"
He was left alone with Runner in record timing. When he knew for sure this was so, he put pressure on the boy's hand to prevent any further blood loss and looked at him in a chastising manner. "Real smart," he said with disdain. "Ya years in Brooklyn shoulda taught ya that self-infliction aint the key. Ya got somethin' ya wanna brawl over, ya take it out with another kid. Though, seein' how I'se was ya only competition, I don't blame ya for cowering away." He smirked in that haughty way of his but the younger only frowned.
"Ya didn't sleep with 'er...?"
Spot looked at him, thoroughly exhausted by the repetitive question. Hadn't they just gone over that? And why was he acting like such a dense fool? If Mallory had related the story to him, why was it coming as such a surprise that they hadn't slept together? "I guess it's hard tah believe a doll passed up a chance with me, right?" He laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder and grinned. "I give ya credit, Runnah. The goil's got spirit, and it looks like youse is the one that caught 'er heart."
Runner shook his head, not bothering to hold back the tears that now graced his face in their salty, crystalline forms. "I broke up with 'er," he managed to say. "She was tellin' me what happened 'tween youse but I jumped tah conclusions 'fore she could finish and I figured ya guys had gone all the way. So I ended it." No longer feeling worthy to live, he purposely collapsed onto himself, almost bringing Spot down with him.
"Runnah, what are ya, stupid?" Spot shook his head, unable to conceive the fact that Runner had lost everything in a single assumption. He walked off a yard or so, took hold of a crate nestled against the lodge's outside wall, and dragged it back beside Runner where he sat onto it and clasped his hands before him in thought. "Ya know...if ya just apologize tah 'er, I'm shoah she'll forgive ya."
"Ya kiddin' me? Spot, I cursed the goil out! I've never even once insulted 'er about anything, and there I was...cursin' 'er out like she was some goon takin' over Brooklyn." He brushed his fingers through his hair and left them at the back of his head to brace himself. "I wouldn't blame 'er if she didn't ever wanna see me again."
"Ya want me tah talk tah 'er?"
Runner gave him a sharp look. "I think youse has involved yaself enough as it is."
"Sorry I asked," the elder replied, holding his hands up in surrendering fashion. Before continuing on, he cracked his knuckles and stretched out the aches in his arms. "Here's a thought. Forget 'bout ya dad's curfews and stay in Brooklyn for as long as ya like, tah sort things through kinda. When ya figure out what ya wanna do...well, go for it."
"Ya think she'll take me back?"
Spot playfully shoved him to the side, careful not to disturb the bruised up hand that lay motionless on Runner's lap. "Youse is a Conlon, how can she not take ya back?" The younger couldn't help but grin back. "Oh, and Lucas? I'm really sorry..." he added in as low a volume as was obtainable.
Runner's eyes fell onto his cut hand, his body finally feeling the pain of his poor decision. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it. Ya startin' tah sound like a sappy bastard and it don't suit ya." When he looked up at the elder, his smirk was mischievous; Spot smacked him upside the head and they shared a much needed laugh.
~*~*~*~*~
Please Review. ^_^
A.N. We're Going To Break 300 Reviews!!! Dear God!!! LoL! Thanks so much y'all! For everyone who's reviewed: YOU ROCK! 300, 300, 300...here we come!!! *Dewey plays the violin as Runner sports an Irish jig* WoW! Five more chapters! I'm a bit scared now; what if I'm not able to wrap it up? lol. I hope that won't be a problem! Thanks for all the reviews! SHOUT- OUTS:
~Sweetness: Oh, don't worry. Spot will definitely find out about Runner's knowledge concerning Valentine's Night. *snickers* A sequel? Hmmm, I don't think this story's in the market for one just yet, but maybe later on (as in next summer, lol) it will be.
~Rhapsody: You missed a chapter? Surprise, surprise. Runner was near sobbing when he found out his number one fan had abandoned him. Hahaha. Considering you like Runner so much, I feel it my duty to tell you he'll be the main character in my upcoming story "Eternal Avenger". ^_^ In any case, thanks for the reviews!
~Deanie: Ay! Happy Belated Birthday! *Runner and the newsies sing their wishes and add in pelvic thrusts* Muahaha. So how old are youse now, m'goil? ^_^ Glad you're still tackling down this whopper of a story, lol. Thanks for the review; hope ya like this chapter!
~Dimples: w00t w00t! You have to update "Opening Up" soon! I want to read more about Meg and Jack. And of course about me and the 'oh so sexy' Spot Conlon. Heehee. So write fast!! *pleads*
~asp: Yea, well don't speak too soon. Who knows what other arguments might surface between Spot and Snap. *rolls eyes* lol. Never trust a Conlon, that's my motto. *Spot glares at her* What!?
~Spider Chick: Don't worry; you're not getting repetitive. Haha. I like when people say they want more. It gives me more incentive to write quickly. So here's another chapter for you! I hope you enjoy it!
~Meredith: Thanks for the review! Race and Becca ARE cute, aren't they? Heehee. *pinches their cheeks* I hope their relationship isn't coming off too sappy though, is it? Ah well, this story needs some loving with all the betrayal and arguments going around. ^_^
~Chimes: New reviewers rock! W00t w00t! Thanks for taking the time out to read this massive thing, lol. I'm glad you were kept interested in the storyline throughout 24 chapters. Here's another chapter! Enjoy!
~CiCi: Were you really crying? I love it when my stories make people cry. *thinks* I mean that in the most nicest way, though. Hahaha. It's just that it makes me think that maybe I made someone felt something...ah, I dunno. Have a good read this time around!
~NinaC: Awww, this story touches your heart, you say? That's so sweet. *snuggles up with a terrified Runner* heehee, sorry. I just get really emotional when people say stuff like that about my stories. It makes me feel good. ^_^ So anyhow, here's an update! Hope you like it!
~Inquisitive: Aww, thanks for the kind feedback! It always makes me feel good when someone says I'm a great writer, even though I still think I could use a lot of improvement, lol. But thanks so much and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story!
~Imaginelet: Yea, Race wants to wait. I didn't want all the guys to be horn- dogs, lol. ^_^ And besides, it's a nice ordeal to uphold. Ah, Mallory and Runner. There's some major strife there. But hold in there, my faithful reviewer, perhaps they'll work past their differences one day. Heehee.
~StupidChocolateGurl: Spot? Snap? *the two glare at each other* Hahaha, shhhh, don't speak too soon! They still have a lot of tangles to work out. But maybe they will get together in the end after all. *shrugs* Who knows? But thanks so much for all the reviews!
~*Just A Little Bet*~
Angel tiredly walked down the halls of the floor making up the hospital's third story and wished she had taken up the head pediatrician's offer on a short break from her internship. Checking in countless patients a day, organizing files in a room full of cabinets, and seeing her share of fractured bones, concussions, and bloody accidents wasn't necessarily her idea of having a good time. She knew that if she proceeded to surround herself with such catastrophe, she would only grow indifferent in time.
'Oh, just another coma,' she imagined herself saying one day. 'Ah, another failed childbirth? What a shame!' She shuddered at the mere notion. She didn't want to become apathetic as many of the doctors around her had become. There was still room for tears whenever a family was mourning the loss of a loved one; there was still room for condolences when a parent was worried over their ill-stricken child.
Perhaps she would take Dr. Ramsey up on that offer, after all. She rubbed her eyes in efforts to rid them of their fatigue and hurried off to relieve her co-workers from night-duty. She wasn't late, but it was always her preference to arrive to her assigned job ten minutes before her shift began. If her timing was correct, she only had four minutes to stay true to that habit.
She greeted the west wing's janitor with a warm smile, her eyes apologizing for streaking the floors he had just mopped. He only laughed lightly and waved her on her way. Angel quickened her leisurely pace into a minor jog afterwards and hoped she'd be the first on her midnight staff to show up. As she was passing a corner, however, someone grasped her arms tightly behind her back, one hand smacking over her mouth, and pulled the girl into a corner where the overhead lamp had dimmed out.
Angel struggled with all her strength, managing to free an arm and elbow her violator in the gut. When his grip on her loosened, she spun around to face him with intentions to slam a fist into his jaw, but when she saw who the young man was, she gasped. "Blink!? What the hell are you trying to pull off??"
Wrapping his arms around his lower stomach, Blink moaned in pain and rested his body against a wall in support. "I see those self-defense classes have paid off."
"Are you...are you okay?" She reached out to him but he flinched back and shot her a look of warning. She rolled her eyes, in turn, and gave him a sarcastic smile. "Well, maybe you shouldn't be parading in hospital hallways after hours, hmm?"
"I came tah see youse," he said simply, as if that made right his trespass.
Angel sighed. "Blink, we're not right for each other. I mean, the relationship was great and all, but..." He put two fingers to her lips to silence her but she wrenched her head away with a glare. She had had enough of his excuses; what ridiculous apologies would his conniving mind make up now? She crossed her arms and waited with pursed lips.
"Angel, please. I know I'se hasn't exactly been the poifect boyfriend. Tah be honest with meself, I'd say I wasn't much a boyfriend at all. I've cheated on ya and lied tah ya, and only came tah visit youse when it suited me." Without his useless patch, she was able to see both his eyes...their blue irises burdened with sadness and pain. "I'm sorry, goil. Ya gotta believe me."
"No," she righted him, "I don't have to believe any crap ya throw my way. For five months you had me thinking you were the greatest thing to come into my life. But guess what? I grew up. I got me a nice job now, a new set of friends, and a real life. And I'm not going to let you ruin that all again by breaking my heart." Her gaze might as well should've been carved from stone, for it would never soften. She turned away from him, but he snatched her wrist and pulled her back pleadingly.
"Gimme another chance! We'll go slow this time, real slow! C'mon, all I'm askin' for is a relationship. Aside from sleepin' together and kissin' ya and all that other stuff I took advantage of when we'se was somethin'. It aint what I'm thinking 'bout now. I only want tah be with youse." He gently grabbed her hands, raised them to his lips, and planted a kiss on the palm of each never once taking his eyes off hers. "Please, Angel? Please don't throw away what we had."
She couldn't detect a single fiber of dishonesty in him. He was being truthful and open with her, attributes she had never known when dating him. But could she take him up on his word? Would he do his best to remain loyal, or was this only another front he was infamous for putting on when dealing with the ladies. Her temper left, a sense of uncertainty lingered behind. "I don't know...maybe we should just talk for now."
"Talkin' is fine with me." His smile was a bright one. "I'm so sorry, though, that I'se threw away all we had for some short-lived fun. Now lookin' back on it, it wasn't woith it. Youse gots class, goil and you desoived better than me." He squeezed his fingers to show his meaning behind the following words. "But I'm tryin' real hard tah be the man ya need me tah be, and I hope we'se can woik past everything eventually."
She nodded with a smile. "We'll see what happens." Suddenly remembering her job, she cursed under her breath then and snatched her hands back, bringing one to her forehead sharply to scold her for her forgetfulness. "Oh great! I was s'pose to report to the desk by now!"
"What?"
"Ugh! Now damned Jennifer will probably get 'intern of the week'! I can't believe this!" She tangled her fingers with her hair in frustration and marched off muttering things under her breath. Blink caught up with her seconds later and threw her a confused look. "I'm late, the hospital staff doesn't smile upon stuff like that," she said simply.
He bobbed his head in understanding, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "I'm sorry if I, uh...if I made ya lose track of the time...."
"No you're not," she shot back at him.
"Huh?"
She stopped in her tracks and gave him a playful smirk. "You aren't the least bit sorry about any of this. As a matter of fact, when you leave this place, you'll probably be clicking your heels all the way back to the lodging house." She arched an eyebrow and challenged him to refute her statement.
He backed her up against a wall and planted a hand on either side of her shoulders, grinning down at her. "Now why would ya say somethin' like that, Meow? I'se always lookin' out fer ya best interest."
"Oh, maybe because of this..." she grabbed his face in her hands and brought his lips to her in a hard kiss. She knew she probably shouldn't be toying with his feelings as so, but she had every good reason to believe she'd eventually forgive him, let him chase her some more, and then revive the relationship. Besides, she was pretty late, and she could only imagine the look on her supervisor's face when Angel explained to her exactly what had kept her busy.
~*~*~*~*~
"Father, I just received a telegram from your doctor." Mallory walked into her father's room holding a piece of paper from which she was reading. "He says that you won't be needing the assistance of a home-bound nurse any longer. I, I don't understand." She furrowed her forehead in confusion and looked to him where he lay upon his bed for answers.
Mr. Carter smiled at his daughter, trying to contain some inward excitement. "Mallory, dear. The doctors were somewhat wrong in their diagnosis of my condition."
The girl sat down onto a rocking chair across from him and leaned forward. "What are you talking about?"
"Darling, when the electrician came over the other day to fix the sitting room's lighting while you were at school, he noticed a leakage from one of the vents in the hallway. He saw to the nature of the problem and discovered that fungus was growing within the inner-linings of our ceiling, the same kind of fungi that attach to the lung complexes in our body to inhibit normal breathing.
"Surely you remember that when we first moved into this house, my bronchitis wasn't as bad as it has been these past few weeks. Now we know why! Over the years, the fungus was growing and drastically affecting my health!"
Mallory wasn't quick to accept the explanation. After all, her father had suffered from terrible conditions of bronchitis before. And how could the doctors be wrong in their diagnosis? "Father...are you absolutely sure? I mean, cleaning out all that fungus might've just made our air cleaner. But how can you say you're cured of all your illnesses now?"
Mr. Carter wouldn't let her pessimism dampen his spirits. He continued to relate the details just as happily as when he had first begun. "You aren't susceptible to the fungus, Mallory. Your lungs don't have asthmatic tendencies. Mine do. And I'm not saying I'm 100 percent healthy from now on, only that my bronchitis isn't as bad as we had originally thought.
"The electrician suggested I hire a lawyer and file a lawsuit against this building's owner for not keeping up with sanitation and general cleaning. If we get the other tenants involved, imagine what a force we'd be in that court against one man!" His eyes grew wide with excitement and he sat up straighter against his bed's headboard. "If we win the claim, your college tuition would be paid in full, I'd be able to obtain whatever job pleased me...we could even afford a new house!"
"Father, that all sounds quite nice, but..."
"You must have faith," the man told her. "Look, our prayers have pulled me through and we're on the verge of reeling in large amounts of money! I think this calls for a celebration!"
Mallory had never seen her father so lively. The past few weeks he always appeared to be unwillingly to see another day, black patches of tiredness growing under his eyes and his body weakening in strength. But now his face was brighter than ever as he began to plot all the ways he would like to spend the money he believed would soon be theirs. He let out a light cough and, clearing his throat, asked the girl if she would be so kind as to make him a cup of tea. "Our neighbors brought me a new Oriental mixture," he told her. "I've placed the packets in the top cabinet. Make a cup for yourself if you'd like to try it."
She nodded her head and left the room in a daze. Could this really be happening? She swore; if it wasn't one thing nagging at her, it was another. When things were going great between herself and Runner...she had her father to worry over. And now that Mr. Carter apparently seemed to be able to tend to himself these days, matters had reversed and Runner was the one her concern was on.
As she walked into the kitchen, she reached down to pet Daisy on the head as the cocker spaniel puppy laid asleep on a cushion, before going on to make her father's tea.
"Mallory, darling," her father called out to her from his room. "Perhaps we should invite some friends over, to bring cheers to my health! You may even invite the cousins; Spot and Lucas were their names? I haven't seen them in quite a while. How's the younger one doing? Still in the hospital?"
"No, he was released," she called back while filling a kettle with water. He rambled on about setting a date for a party, but Mallory's mind had already escaped his grasp. How she wished that Lucas was here, his arms around her...giving her the kiss they had yet to finish...
~*~*~*~*~
Runner bit down hard on the cigarette in his mouth, as if he willed the tobacco enclosed within to drain from the paper onto his tongue like poisonous soot. He had forgotten how addictive the nicotine could be. He licked the inside frame of the cigarette, his moral void longing for another inhale, his mind coiling away at the thought. He was never one to deny the former.
With a smirk, he greeted his cousin with a nod. Spot was leaning against a pillar of the docks, his arm nonchalantly gripping the structure and his wolf-like eyes gazing out at his 'kingdom' with a silver glow. He pushed himself off the pillar upon seeing Runner and stood to his feet in a proud stance, one of glory and vanity.
"Youse back into smokin', huh?" The tone by which he had uttered the words made it a blatant statement, rather than a question.
Runner only gave him a shrug in reply. "Old habits die hard." Spot fell into step beside him and the two walked the lengths of the docks, which were by now vacant of any newsboys as it was hours past dusk. The younger Conlon took one last drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground carelessly and crushing its form with the heel of his boot. Suited with the destruction, he shoved his hands down the pockets of his pants and listened to the churning waters below him. Their monotonous melody almost carried him away to a dreamland, but he soon awoke and only found himself staring out to an endless sheet of obsidian, so dark were their waves.
"So, how's life treatin' ya kid?" Seeing his cousin's lack of banter made Spot uneasy for the briefest moment. What bothered the younger so?
Runner let out a small sigh, one that sounded as if it should have escaped the lips of a young boy...a boy carefree and infantile, who had never known false love, or betrayal. He battled with himself for half a second, wondering whether he should bring the matter up or simply forget it. His mouth was quicker than his musings. "Why'd ya do it, Spot?"
The elder turned to look at him. "Do what?"
"Mallory came to see me in my room the other day," Runner replied in his polished rich accent. "To catch up on things...but more so to confess something to me." His roughened drawl inflamed. "Damnit, Spot! Why'd ya do it? Ya knew as much as the next guy that I'se cared 'bout 'er! Ya me cousin, why would ya do somethin' like that? For a damn bet? Would ya really betray me for a damn bet?!"
Spot's expression mirrored his admission of guilt, something he rarely showed. "Lucas, look. I'm sorry, alright...?"
"No! It's not alright! Alright is not layin' a finger on 'er! Alright is stayin' a hundred yards from 'er at all times! But youse bein' sorry?! That's not alright!"
It had taken every ounce of his patience to stifle a violent act until now, but Spot could no longer hold his temper in check. He turned on the boy, seizing Runner's shirt collar and slamming him into a pier upon which he held him down in a death grip. "Don't think for one minute that youse can march over heah and start preachin' tah me, ya understand that? I'll be me own judge of what's right and wrong. If youse can't deal with that, go dig a hole and throw yaself in it."
When he let him go, Runner was so startled by the attack that he nearly stumbled when he gained his freedom. Stabilizing his footing, he glared at Spot and fixed out the wrinkles in his shirt with near-shaking hands. "I see nothing's changed in ya," he spat out. "Still the arrogant Brooklyn jackass that don't give a damn when he hoits someone."
"Ya know what, Runnah? Cut the crap; ya makin' it sound like me and Mallory actually did somethin' promiscuous."
"That's a big woid, there, Spotty. Where'd ya get it from, the papes?" He dodged away in time to miss Spot's lunge, but he wasn't quick enough to evade the leader's backhand, which sent him tripping onto the hardwood of the docks. His head throbbed from the blow, but he wouldn't pronounce his pain with a wince. Instead, he climbed to his feet and continued their stare-down. "Nothin' promiscuous, then, huh? I guess to reach that stage, you'd have to not only steal ya cousin's goil and sleep with 'er, but also get 'er pregnant and then run off with the goil's muddah."
Spot rolled his eyes at the detailed elaboration. Where did the kid derive his imagination from? "I guess we'll never find out. I don't really intend on sleepin' with Mallory...and well, her muddah's dead, remember? So much for that trip."
"Ya mean ya don't intend on sleepin with 'er AGAIN," the other corrected.
"If that's what I meant, I would've said it."
Runner straightened up from his fighting stance, his eyes flickering with skepticism. "Is this some kinda joke?"
Spot shrugged. "I guess so, cause anyone should know that youse can't beat me in a fight if ya life depended on it." The Brooklyn leader started for his cousin again, but stopped short when Runner made no bodily signs of attempting a defense. Instead, the younger Conlon backed away shaking his head ever so slightly, disbelief written all over his face. "What's the problem now, youse in denial?"
"Ya didn't...sleep with 'er?"
Spot groaned. "How may times is we'se gunna go over this?"
They had by now reached the edifice that was the Brooklyn lodging house and were apparently intending on entering the building. Spot followed closely behind a fuming Runner, the boy's shoulders tense and his fists clenched tightly. For the life of him, Spot had yet to figure out what the hell was the kid's problem. Up ahead, a light post shone its rays onto the path before them, making the newsboys' welcome sign of clearer appearance as they neared.
When they were within ample distance of the lodge, Runner brought back an arm and sent a blow into the glass pane of a window, not even flinching as the crystal shards embedded themselves into his skin, crimson bands streaming down his hand. The loud shattering caused Spot to jump in surprise; it also alarmed several of the Brooklynites within the building and they flooded out onto the walks within seconds. Confusion shrouded them when they found Spot Conlon wrapping his very own shirt around Runner's blood-soaked fingers, the younger of the two highly agitated, though his anger seemed to be directed elsewhere.
Scapegoat stepped forward hesitantly and cleared his throat for attention. "Uhm...everything, uh, okay?"
"Gimme some gauze from Mistah Scaparti's first aid cabinet, Scape? And some water too. And make it quick." The newsie turned on his heels at the stern order and hurried off to retrieve the items in question. Spot glanced at the others gathered around and groaned. Why hadn't he taught his Brooky's that a problem didn't belong to them if they weren't directly involved? He snapped at them. "Clear out, all a' youse. 'Less ya want a nice shinah of ya own, get back inside!"
He was left alone with Runner in record timing. When he knew for sure this was so, he put pressure on the boy's hand to prevent any further blood loss and looked at him in a chastising manner. "Real smart," he said with disdain. "Ya years in Brooklyn shoulda taught ya that self-infliction aint the key. Ya got somethin' ya wanna brawl over, ya take it out with another kid. Though, seein' how I'se was ya only competition, I don't blame ya for cowering away." He smirked in that haughty way of his but the younger only frowned.
"Ya didn't sleep with 'er...?"
Spot looked at him, thoroughly exhausted by the repetitive question. Hadn't they just gone over that? And why was he acting like such a dense fool? If Mallory had related the story to him, why was it coming as such a surprise that they hadn't slept together? "I guess it's hard tah believe a doll passed up a chance with me, right?" He laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder and grinned. "I give ya credit, Runnah. The goil's got spirit, and it looks like youse is the one that caught 'er heart."
Runner shook his head, not bothering to hold back the tears that now graced his face in their salty, crystalline forms. "I broke up with 'er," he managed to say. "She was tellin' me what happened 'tween youse but I jumped tah conclusions 'fore she could finish and I figured ya guys had gone all the way. So I ended it." No longer feeling worthy to live, he purposely collapsed onto himself, almost bringing Spot down with him.
"Runnah, what are ya, stupid?" Spot shook his head, unable to conceive the fact that Runner had lost everything in a single assumption. He walked off a yard or so, took hold of a crate nestled against the lodge's outside wall, and dragged it back beside Runner where he sat onto it and clasped his hands before him in thought. "Ya know...if ya just apologize tah 'er, I'm shoah she'll forgive ya."
"Ya kiddin' me? Spot, I cursed the goil out! I've never even once insulted 'er about anything, and there I was...cursin' 'er out like she was some goon takin' over Brooklyn." He brushed his fingers through his hair and left them at the back of his head to brace himself. "I wouldn't blame 'er if she didn't ever wanna see me again."
"Ya want me tah talk tah 'er?"
Runner gave him a sharp look. "I think youse has involved yaself enough as it is."
"Sorry I asked," the elder replied, holding his hands up in surrendering fashion. Before continuing on, he cracked his knuckles and stretched out the aches in his arms. "Here's a thought. Forget 'bout ya dad's curfews and stay in Brooklyn for as long as ya like, tah sort things through kinda. When ya figure out what ya wanna do...well, go for it."
"Ya think she'll take me back?"
Spot playfully shoved him to the side, careful not to disturb the bruised up hand that lay motionless on Runner's lap. "Youse is a Conlon, how can she not take ya back?" The younger couldn't help but grin back. "Oh, and Lucas? I'm really sorry..." he added in as low a volume as was obtainable.
Runner's eyes fell onto his cut hand, his body finally feeling the pain of his poor decision. "Ah, don't worry 'bout it. Ya startin' tah sound like a sappy bastard and it don't suit ya." When he looked up at the elder, his smirk was mischievous; Spot smacked him upside the head and they shared a much needed laugh.
~*~*~*~*~
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