A/N - Don't hate me for this next chapter, guys. It's going to be
horribly angsty and I'll try to keep it as PG-13 as possible. If you don't
like violence or other erm..'things' don't read this chapter!. I mentioned
it in the previous chappie. Aherm. ::hides::...::peeks back out:::
A special shout-out to JustDuck and erinsailorditz for reading 'May the Road Rise to Meet You". I know it was sad, it was meant to be. Thank you both for sucking it up and reading it, I appreciated it. ::dives for cover again::
I woke up to feel hands roughly tugging me out of Spot's arms. He woke too from where I guess he had been nodding off and yelled hoarsely, rising to his feet only to be knocked back down by a pair of meaty, large fists. Rank, rancid breath was gusting down the back of my neck in hot spurts. I craned my neck to look around my shoulder and up and almost screamed.
Georgie 'Pain' Maguire was holding me tightly up against his rather large, solid body. He had a nose that had been broken more than a few times, yellowed teeth with gaps where some were missing, and beady black little eyes that sat emotionless in his ruddy, beefy face.
His short brown hair lay on the crown of his head in lank tufts. I felt my stomach roil in disgust as I looked over and saw his younger brother Joseph holding a candle and grinning like a hyena at me. Young Joseph was like his brother in every way. Large body, disgusting features, and pea-brained.
My brother's actually referred to him as 'Young Joseph'. It was amusing but then again it wasn't. Nothing about my brother's and their minions proved to be humorous in the long run. They weren't nice in any way and they loved to give pain and suffering like a normal person would give a present at Christmas, delighting in the other person's reaction.
"Hullo boys haven't seen you in awhile." My lip where Murphy had struck me was swollen and sore. Pain sneered at me and his fist gripped my arm tighter. They had been the two most avid in their quest to de-flower me at a young age when I had been staying with my brother's. I'm sure you don't need an explanation as to why I respectfully declined.
I felt panic sink its claws into me as they started dragging me to the stairs. I threw a glance in Spot's direction but he had been pummeled one too many times tonight and was lying senselessly on the dirt floor. I struggled fiercely and Pain finally dropped me, spitting close to my head in disgust before Young Joseph shrugged and put the lantern down on the floor.
"We can do it just as easily here as we could somewheres else, missy." I choked and I think my eyes were as wide as my head as I felt arms restrain me. The last thing I remember was seeing Young Joseph's thick fingers fumbling with the buttons at the front of his pants.
Racetrack strode alongside Jack and a few Brooklyn newsies. The streets were dark and creepy, but far from empty. Apparently Brooklyn had different ideas about when a decent time to go to sleep was. Whores and drunken men littered the street corners, and they avoided many a policeman.
Racetrack's thoughts flew through his head at a rapid speed. He felt a sense of urgency like he had never felt before. His only desire was to get to Misery and Spot and get them out of harm's way. A few of the Manhattan newsies were nervously joking back and forth, something Race normally partook in as well, but he had no desire to do that right now.
Jack was in his element, at the head of a group of kids hell-bent on raising chaos. He hadn't had this since the strike some time ago, and it was nice to have this feeling back even if it was at the expense of some of his friends. They continued on through the night, tensions in the group strung tight.
If I chose to remember what happened the rest of that night, I think I could describe it with alarming clarity. Pain and Young Joseph took advantage of me, and left me on the disgusting floor of my brother's basement, bleeding and numb to just about everything.
Spot found me like that sometime later, and he shed some tears, but he's a male, he didn't know what to do and there was nothing he could say to make me feel better. I remember he tried to pull me to him and I scuttled away like a crab and burrowed against the stone wall.
It wasn't long before we heard the crashes and the hollers and loud footsteps overhead. This went on for about an hour, Spot cursing and running to try the cellar door only to find it bolted from the other side. I just sat and absently stroked the side of the wall with my fingertips. When it all of a sudden grew quiet, Spot began pounding on the door, yelling. I hunched closer to the floor when footfalls crossed the floor above us and made their way to the door.
"Spot?" Spot rested his head against the door briefly before saying in a gruff voice;
"Yeah Jackie-boy it's me. Get us the hell out of here." It took them a few tries of trying to break down the door before Pick; a Brooklyn newsie shouldered his way to the front and picked the lock. The door swung open, and the newsies swarmed Spot, clapping him on the back and exclaiming over his many bruises and the blood that stained the side of his face and the front of his shirt.
Spot staggered slightly and Riddle put his shoulder underneath Spot's arm. Someone tossed him his cane, and leaning on Riddle and using his cane, he cocked his head back towards the cellar.
"Misery...They...It was bad, Jack. Real bad." With that, Racetrack sprung towards the steps followed by Jack. When I saw Race, I wasn't as frightened but I still wouldn't let him touch me. It took them fifteen minutes just to coax me to get up off the floor before Racetrack grabbed me. I struggled for a second before he grasped my chin in his hand and looked me in the eyes.
"Misery, stop." I fell limply against him and he swung me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. In a way, I was glad because I was too sore to walk up the stairs let alone all the way from Green Point to Spot's warehouse. Upstairs I averted my eyes from the hovel that was my brother's dwelling and only let them grow large when I saw them tied up cursing and glaring bloody murder at the few newsies left to guard them. Most of my brother's gang had fled. I cringed and waited for the explosion.
"You bitch! You just wait, you little whore, we'll get you. Did you like Georgie and Young Joseph?! You wait there's more where that came from, little sister." Racetrack spat a swear at them in Italian and grabbed his crotch to which most of the newsies although not fluent in Italian, but fluent in obscene gestures crowed and hooted. I waited for Race to drop me after hearing them call me 'little sister' but when he didn't; I figured it would happen later.
Together, the group of newsies made their way back to Spot's to lick their wounds. I felt someone stroking my hair at one point, and looked up to see Kid Blink and Mush watching me with worry in their eyes. I felt a pang in my chest and looked away, shifting uncomfortably and wishing I could walk so that I didn't have to be carried like this.
Riddle silently strode up and took me from Race, giving him a look when he protested, and cradled me in his strong arms like a baby. I was shorter than Racetrack and even Pistol, so I wasn't much to carry. I burrowed my face into Riddle's chest and sobbed quietly. He didn't say anything, just let me cry.
When we reached Spot's warehouse, the girls burst out of the building followed by the rest of the newsies. Pistol let out a shriek when she saw me, and Bourbon's eyes narrowed dangerously. Meesh shoved her way to the front and flipping her hair over her shoulder, sternly directed Riddle to lay me out on a bunk.
Spot hoarsely told him to put me in his room on the cot Loon had occupied. Pokey stood with her hands clasped over her mouth, watching me as they swept me inside and up the stairs.
The instant I was set down, all the boys were kicked out of the room. Bourbon gathered me into her arms and I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Pistol began to cry as well, and Meesh flew about gathering things left over from her taking care of Loon.
"Did they...did they..?" Pistol's voice hitched and I gave her a blank stare to which Bourbon stood up and screamed angrily. I heard voices outside the door and Bourbon wrenched it open.
"If you have a penis, I don't want to see your face!" The boys retreated instantly and I began to laugh, albeit a rather crazy sounding laugh at that. Meesh began tending to my wounds, and when it came time for her to finish, she gave me a steady look and asked if I wanted to do it myself. I nodded and the room cleared out.
I washed myself the best I could, wincing as the water in the bowl turned a rusty color. When I called out that I was done, Meesh returned and tucked me into the cot. I didn't want to think about sharing the room with Spot, but I was exhausted. Besides sleep had to be better than being awake.
When you're wrong, you're wrong, and boy was I wrong. I awoke a few hours later covered in a cold sweat, shaking. The nightmares I had had were intense and so lifelike it felt like it was happening all over again. I jolted when I realized that someone was sitting on the edge of my cot stroking my hair whispering to me in Gaelic. I hadn't heard that language since my father and it calmed me slightly. I looked up into Spot's eyes and winced at the knowing that was there.
"I should have stopped it," he whispered. He took my hand into one of his own and squeezed it. I had never seen the tough Brooklyn boy look so devastated. It wasn't pleasant to see.
"First Cards, and now you. I couldn't stop it; I couldn't help either of you, and now look. Cards is dead and you..You've been violated." I closed my eyes tightly and shivered. Spot heaved a sigh and looked out his window towards the river before smoothing my hair once more.
"Roll over," he said pushing me so that he could sit on the cot more. I obeyed and rolled onto my stomach. He began rubbing my back and when I gave him another glance I saw starkness in his features and knew that he had made a choice about something. It would probably only be a matter of time until I found out what it was.
"Go mbiodh biseach ort gan mhoill. Codlah samh," I drowsily gave into closing my eyes and letting sleep take me away. I think I smiled for the first time that night as the familiar language rolled off of Spot's tongue. I didn't wake up until a few hours later when there was a furious pounding on Spot's door.
He leapt out of bed and as I sat up, blinking blearily, he pulled his suspenders up over his bare chest to keep his trousers up and flung his door open, anger smeared across his face. A group of furious Brooklyn newsies stood in the hallway, their eyes trained on the cot where I sat gripping the blankets in my hands tightly.
"What the fuck is the big idea," Spot hissed his voice cool and emotionless. One of the newsies pointed to where I sat, with a club clenched in one fist.
"We came for the Finnegan whore," he spat. I sat helplessly and let my life tumble to the ground around me once more.
Pokey7 - Thank you! Spot will still like her no matter what but it depends on how much balls he has to stand up for her and her last name. We'll see, he 'is' really tough and all.
My dog ate my penname - Yay you're back! I was wondering what happened to you. I hate math with A PASSION. I'm not good at it all, which is funny because I work as a cashier. Hm. Oh well. Misery's brother's are huge bastards. HUGE! Thank you I'm so glad you like my story.
Jocelyn Padoga - I wish I had a Race too. And a Spot, and Kid Blink, and maybe a Jack. Awww well here's an updation so you don't have to cry anymore! :D
Cabby1- I wouldn't exactly say Spot loves Misery. He cares about her a great deal but I'm not sure if he actually could say he 'loves' her. I hate reading cliffies but I like writing them :D
Irish Rover -- *updates a few instants later* Sort of..hehe.I would never 'intentionally' hurt Spot, I luff him. *sigh* Oh well, hope this update is just as good as the others have been.
Erin sailor ditz - Wow that is the awesomest compliment anyone has ever given me. I LOVE having things dedicated to me. I do understand what you mean with the cds, certain music needs to be listened to in certain cases. It enhances things sometimes. Dedications ROCK and I can't wait to read your story when it gets updated. Thank you, you're kick ass too :D
JustDuck - Muahah no but I love that song, 'Finnegan's Wake'. I'm sure Misery could like it eventually. It's catchy as hell. Don't worry! Misery will NOT DIE. I couldn't kill her off, she rocks hard. You never know *hides notebook* there could be a sequel of sorts with some of the same characters. Yes Misery's brother's are assbandits and they and their horny jackals of thugs should be thrown into sacks and drowned. *nods*
Chelsea - I read a hell of a lot, I guess that's where I get most of my vocabulary from. I love reading classical stories too like Dickens and that sort. Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights. But anywhoo. Race is definitely hot stuff and he is a hero in his own right. I'm glad that the fighting didn't seem fake, I've been in a few fights myself so I'd hope I know how to write 'em. Awww no crying. I love your story I think it rocks the casbah. :D WRITE MORE!!
A special shout-out to JustDuck and erinsailorditz for reading 'May the Road Rise to Meet You". I know it was sad, it was meant to be. Thank you both for sucking it up and reading it, I appreciated it. ::dives for cover again::
I woke up to feel hands roughly tugging me out of Spot's arms. He woke too from where I guess he had been nodding off and yelled hoarsely, rising to his feet only to be knocked back down by a pair of meaty, large fists. Rank, rancid breath was gusting down the back of my neck in hot spurts. I craned my neck to look around my shoulder and up and almost screamed.
Georgie 'Pain' Maguire was holding me tightly up against his rather large, solid body. He had a nose that had been broken more than a few times, yellowed teeth with gaps where some were missing, and beady black little eyes that sat emotionless in his ruddy, beefy face.
His short brown hair lay on the crown of his head in lank tufts. I felt my stomach roil in disgust as I looked over and saw his younger brother Joseph holding a candle and grinning like a hyena at me. Young Joseph was like his brother in every way. Large body, disgusting features, and pea-brained.
My brother's actually referred to him as 'Young Joseph'. It was amusing but then again it wasn't. Nothing about my brother's and their minions proved to be humorous in the long run. They weren't nice in any way and they loved to give pain and suffering like a normal person would give a present at Christmas, delighting in the other person's reaction.
"Hullo boys haven't seen you in awhile." My lip where Murphy had struck me was swollen and sore. Pain sneered at me and his fist gripped my arm tighter. They had been the two most avid in their quest to de-flower me at a young age when I had been staying with my brother's. I'm sure you don't need an explanation as to why I respectfully declined.
I felt panic sink its claws into me as they started dragging me to the stairs. I threw a glance in Spot's direction but he had been pummeled one too many times tonight and was lying senselessly on the dirt floor. I struggled fiercely and Pain finally dropped me, spitting close to my head in disgust before Young Joseph shrugged and put the lantern down on the floor.
"We can do it just as easily here as we could somewheres else, missy." I choked and I think my eyes were as wide as my head as I felt arms restrain me. The last thing I remember was seeing Young Joseph's thick fingers fumbling with the buttons at the front of his pants.
Racetrack strode alongside Jack and a few Brooklyn newsies. The streets were dark and creepy, but far from empty. Apparently Brooklyn had different ideas about when a decent time to go to sleep was. Whores and drunken men littered the street corners, and they avoided many a policeman.
Racetrack's thoughts flew through his head at a rapid speed. He felt a sense of urgency like he had never felt before. His only desire was to get to Misery and Spot and get them out of harm's way. A few of the Manhattan newsies were nervously joking back and forth, something Race normally partook in as well, but he had no desire to do that right now.
Jack was in his element, at the head of a group of kids hell-bent on raising chaos. He hadn't had this since the strike some time ago, and it was nice to have this feeling back even if it was at the expense of some of his friends. They continued on through the night, tensions in the group strung tight.
If I chose to remember what happened the rest of that night, I think I could describe it with alarming clarity. Pain and Young Joseph took advantage of me, and left me on the disgusting floor of my brother's basement, bleeding and numb to just about everything.
Spot found me like that sometime later, and he shed some tears, but he's a male, he didn't know what to do and there was nothing he could say to make me feel better. I remember he tried to pull me to him and I scuttled away like a crab and burrowed against the stone wall.
It wasn't long before we heard the crashes and the hollers and loud footsteps overhead. This went on for about an hour, Spot cursing and running to try the cellar door only to find it bolted from the other side. I just sat and absently stroked the side of the wall with my fingertips. When it all of a sudden grew quiet, Spot began pounding on the door, yelling. I hunched closer to the floor when footfalls crossed the floor above us and made their way to the door.
"Spot?" Spot rested his head against the door briefly before saying in a gruff voice;
"Yeah Jackie-boy it's me. Get us the hell out of here." It took them a few tries of trying to break down the door before Pick; a Brooklyn newsie shouldered his way to the front and picked the lock. The door swung open, and the newsies swarmed Spot, clapping him on the back and exclaiming over his many bruises and the blood that stained the side of his face and the front of his shirt.
Spot staggered slightly and Riddle put his shoulder underneath Spot's arm. Someone tossed him his cane, and leaning on Riddle and using his cane, he cocked his head back towards the cellar.
"Misery...They...It was bad, Jack. Real bad." With that, Racetrack sprung towards the steps followed by Jack. When I saw Race, I wasn't as frightened but I still wouldn't let him touch me. It took them fifteen minutes just to coax me to get up off the floor before Racetrack grabbed me. I struggled for a second before he grasped my chin in his hand and looked me in the eyes.
"Misery, stop." I fell limply against him and he swung me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. In a way, I was glad because I was too sore to walk up the stairs let alone all the way from Green Point to Spot's warehouse. Upstairs I averted my eyes from the hovel that was my brother's dwelling and only let them grow large when I saw them tied up cursing and glaring bloody murder at the few newsies left to guard them. Most of my brother's gang had fled. I cringed and waited for the explosion.
"You bitch! You just wait, you little whore, we'll get you. Did you like Georgie and Young Joseph?! You wait there's more where that came from, little sister." Racetrack spat a swear at them in Italian and grabbed his crotch to which most of the newsies although not fluent in Italian, but fluent in obscene gestures crowed and hooted. I waited for Race to drop me after hearing them call me 'little sister' but when he didn't; I figured it would happen later.
Together, the group of newsies made their way back to Spot's to lick their wounds. I felt someone stroking my hair at one point, and looked up to see Kid Blink and Mush watching me with worry in their eyes. I felt a pang in my chest and looked away, shifting uncomfortably and wishing I could walk so that I didn't have to be carried like this.
Riddle silently strode up and took me from Race, giving him a look when he protested, and cradled me in his strong arms like a baby. I was shorter than Racetrack and even Pistol, so I wasn't much to carry. I burrowed my face into Riddle's chest and sobbed quietly. He didn't say anything, just let me cry.
When we reached Spot's warehouse, the girls burst out of the building followed by the rest of the newsies. Pistol let out a shriek when she saw me, and Bourbon's eyes narrowed dangerously. Meesh shoved her way to the front and flipping her hair over her shoulder, sternly directed Riddle to lay me out on a bunk.
Spot hoarsely told him to put me in his room on the cot Loon had occupied. Pokey stood with her hands clasped over her mouth, watching me as they swept me inside and up the stairs.
The instant I was set down, all the boys were kicked out of the room. Bourbon gathered me into her arms and I broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Pistol began to cry as well, and Meesh flew about gathering things left over from her taking care of Loon.
"Did they...did they..?" Pistol's voice hitched and I gave her a blank stare to which Bourbon stood up and screamed angrily. I heard voices outside the door and Bourbon wrenched it open.
"If you have a penis, I don't want to see your face!" The boys retreated instantly and I began to laugh, albeit a rather crazy sounding laugh at that. Meesh began tending to my wounds, and when it came time for her to finish, she gave me a steady look and asked if I wanted to do it myself. I nodded and the room cleared out.
I washed myself the best I could, wincing as the water in the bowl turned a rusty color. When I called out that I was done, Meesh returned and tucked me into the cot. I didn't want to think about sharing the room with Spot, but I was exhausted. Besides sleep had to be better than being awake.
When you're wrong, you're wrong, and boy was I wrong. I awoke a few hours later covered in a cold sweat, shaking. The nightmares I had had were intense and so lifelike it felt like it was happening all over again. I jolted when I realized that someone was sitting on the edge of my cot stroking my hair whispering to me in Gaelic. I hadn't heard that language since my father and it calmed me slightly. I looked up into Spot's eyes and winced at the knowing that was there.
"I should have stopped it," he whispered. He took my hand into one of his own and squeezed it. I had never seen the tough Brooklyn boy look so devastated. It wasn't pleasant to see.
"First Cards, and now you. I couldn't stop it; I couldn't help either of you, and now look. Cards is dead and you..You've been violated." I closed my eyes tightly and shivered. Spot heaved a sigh and looked out his window towards the river before smoothing my hair once more.
"Roll over," he said pushing me so that he could sit on the cot more. I obeyed and rolled onto my stomach. He began rubbing my back and when I gave him another glance I saw starkness in his features and knew that he had made a choice about something. It would probably only be a matter of time until I found out what it was.
"Go mbiodh biseach ort gan mhoill. Codlah samh," I drowsily gave into closing my eyes and letting sleep take me away. I think I smiled for the first time that night as the familiar language rolled off of Spot's tongue. I didn't wake up until a few hours later when there was a furious pounding on Spot's door.
He leapt out of bed and as I sat up, blinking blearily, he pulled his suspenders up over his bare chest to keep his trousers up and flung his door open, anger smeared across his face. A group of furious Brooklyn newsies stood in the hallway, their eyes trained on the cot where I sat gripping the blankets in my hands tightly.
"What the fuck is the big idea," Spot hissed his voice cool and emotionless. One of the newsies pointed to where I sat, with a club clenched in one fist.
"We came for the Finnegan whore," he spat. I sat helplessly and let my life tumble to the ground around me once more.
Pokey7 - Thank you! Spot will still like her no matter what but it depends on how much balls he has to stand up for her and her last name. We'll see, he 'is' really tough and all.
My dog ate my penname - Yay you're back! I was wondering what happened to you. I hate math with A PASSION. I'm not good at it all, which is funny because I work as a cashier. Hm. Oh well. Misery's brother's are huge bastards. HUGE! Thank you I'm so glad you like my story.
Jocelyn Padoga - I wish I had a Race too. And a Spot, and Kid Blink, and maybe a Jack. Awww well here's an updation so you don't have to cry anymore! :D
Cabby1- I wouldn't exactly say Spot loves Misery. He cares about her a great deal but I'm not sure if he actually could say he 'loves' her. I hate reading cliffies but I like writing them :D
Irish Rover -- *updates a few instants later* Sort of..hehe.I would never 'intentionally' hurt Spot, I luff him. *sigh* Oh well, hope this update is just as good as the others have been.
Erin sailor ditz - Wow that is the awesomest compliment anyone has ever given me. I LOVE having things dedicated to me. I do understand what you mean with the cds, certain music needs to be listened to in certain cases. It enhances things sometimes. Dedications ROCK and I can't wait to read your story when it gets updated. Thank you, you're kick ass too :D
JustDuck - Muahah no but I love that song, 'Finnegan's Wake'. I'm sure Misery could like it eventually. It's catchy as hell. Don't worry! Misery will NOT DIE. I couldn't kill her off, she rocks hard. You never know *hides notebook* there could be a sequel of sorts with some of the same characters. Yes Misery's brother's are assbandits and they and their horny jackals of thugs should be thrown into sacks and drowned. *nods*
Chelsea - I read a hell of a lot, I guess that's where I get most of my vocabulary from. I love reading classical stories too like Dickens and that sort. Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights. But anywhoo. Race is definitely hot stuff and he is a hero in his own right. I'm glad that the fighting didn't seem fake, I've been in a few fights myself so I'd hope I know how to write 'em. Awww no crying. I love your story I think it rocks the casbah. :D WRITE MORE!!