A/N – Yay FFnet is working again! *does a happy dance* -- A/N
Pistol McGovern was not the sort of girl who could usually keep secrets. She knew deep down in her heart that the right thing to do was go find Race, and let him know that Misery was planning on running. Something wouldn't let her do that, and she also knew that it was her loyalty to the female race and her own knowledge that she was running from something that she wasn't strong enough to admit to as well.
Trudging down the street, her red hair hanging in her face, she frowned and her scowl only deepened when she heard the familiar voice of her best friend in the whole world hail her. Not stopping, she quickly turned down an alleyway and would have gotten away when she felt firm yet gentle hands rest on her shoulders.
"Pistol what the Hell are you doing?" She averted her eyes from Kid Blink's and muttered something non-committal although her heart beat hard against her chest at the way he was looking at her. Something in between annoyance and tenderness shown in his one good eye as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm walking what does it look like Sherlock?" Kid Blink narrowed his eye at her and this time his grimace matched her own.
"No, you're avoiding me." Pistol felt her chest squeeze painfully as he cupped her chin in a callused hand and lifted it so that she was looking at him. Glowering up at him he burst into laughter at her face and shook his head.
"God you're the best gal a guy could ever have," he guffawed, holding his sides. Pistol froze, and jerked her chin out of his hand.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped. He froze as well and looked at her uncertainly. Scuffing a boot into the dirt of the alleyway he was now the one to avoid her gaze.
"Never mind, Pistol. Just forget it." Pistol lit a cigarette and quickly threw the match away so he wouldn't see her shaking hand. Blowing smoke forcibly out of her nostrils she jabbed her cigarette towards his face.
"No, I won't forget it and you can damn well talk to me again when you feel like explaining yourself." With that, she spun on one heel and stalked out of the alleyway ignoring his feeble call for her to stop and wait up. Fuming, she walked towards the Square where she hoped to find some of the younger newsies. Her head was in such a whirl, she forgot all about Misery until much, much later.
At the time that Pistol was contemplating her feelings for Kid Blink, I sat in a small Italian restaurant called Luigi's where Spot apparently came quite a bit and watched him put away a heaping plate of spaghetti like he was eating the last meal of his life. Looking up with strands of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth he sucked them up and grinned at me.
"You should see the look on yer face," he laughed teasingly. I shook my head.
"You should see the sauce all over yours." I chuckled and for the first time that day felt the semblance of happiness. Spot's face softened and I looked alarmed for he gave me a bitter grin and shook his own head.
"Don't worry Mis; I'm not going to try to win you away from Race again." I traced a pattern on the tablecloth and looked away from him. He loudly began slurping up his spaghetti once more and when he was done, Luigi himself came from the kitchen and Spot thanked him and tipped him. The short, portly Italian man thanked Spot profusely and I hid a smile behind my hand.
Spot hiked his cane up from where it had been leaning against the chair and offered me his arm, like a perfect gentleman.
"Let's go find a place to discuss your plans," he said lighting a smoke and handing it to me before lighting one for himself. I slapped my bowler hat onto my head and nodded as we quickly went down the street and towards the Brooklyn Lodging House.
Once reaching the Lodging House, Spot told Riddle a terse warning that we weren't to be disturbed. More than one of the kids watched us with great interest as we trooped upstairs to Spot's bedroom. I was surprised to see the cot still in the corner. Spot shrugged.
"Loon still has nightmares. I let the kid sleep in here because it make's him feel better." Seeing my gentle smile, Spot rolled his eyes and waved a hand at me.
"Don't get all sappy, dame. Remember it ain't what you want anymore." I walked up behind Spot and put my hands on his shoulders and rested my chin in the crook of his neck. I could feel him tense his muscles and he turned so that his cheek was flat against my forehead.
"Spot you're going to make some girl very, very happy one day," I whispered. I felt his shoulder's droop and he kissed my forehead before carefully sliding away from me.
"I took the liberty of telegramming Marty again for ya. You know the broad in New Hampshire. She said they'll be expecting ya in a few days' time." I stared at him blankly.
"When did you do that?" He grinned at me and sat down in a chair by a small table before resting his feet up on the open windowsill.
"When we stopped at the post office and you waited outside to smoke." I felt my cheeks redden and I sniffed at him while he actually giggled at me. Flopping down onto Loon's cot, I rested my hands loosely in between my legs and sighed.
"So when do I leave?" Spot exhaled a few smoke rings and gave me a sad look.
"Tomorrow morning, on the six o'clock train, get all your good-byes done tonight." I shook my head mutely before saying in a husky voice;
"Nobody can know I'm leaving. I don't want Race to try to stop me; it's really for his own good. And for everyone else's." Spot's eyes hardened and he shook his head briefly before flicking his cigarette out the window.
"At least write him a letter Misery. The kid's going to be beside himself with worry more than pissed off at you. Then he's going to come after me, you do realize this? If anyone tells him that I was the last person you were with, he's going to naturally assume that I know where you are and I won't tell him. Not unless you want me to." I shook my head and he sighed.
I left Brooklyn late in the afternoon, with Riddle walking me back to Manhattan. He had combed his shaggy hair and he walked with a very determined air. I was amused, and saddened that I might not be around to see what the outcome of his going after Bourbon would be.
Spot had told me that he would meet me at the train station in Manhattan at 5:30 sharp. I was relieved, because the newsies would all be walking their selling routes by then. I knew that I had to find a way to break the news to Racetrack and I thought for a quick second to maybe break up with him in a public manner so that he would be angry at me and not look for me after I left.
Deciding that was the best tactic, I hurried my pace until we reached the lodging house. By then it was evening and Riddle quickly left me to find Bourbon. I made my way to Racetrack who wound an arm around my waist and laid his head against my middle. He was sitting on a battered couch in the lobby with Jack, David, and a troubled looking Kid Blink.
"How's it going dollface? I haven't seen you all day." I took a deep breath and tried to still my shivering. He looked up at me concerned.
"Race, we need to talk." Worry flashed through his dark brown eyes and he stood up, guiding me outside onto the sidewalk. Lighting a cigar he leaned up against the brick building. It was growing dark and I could barely see his face.
"Listen, I've been thinking. I don't want to sell newspapers anymore and I know that you still do. It would really be best if I found someone who was a little more ambitious, more family oriented. Someone who wanted to move up in the world a little bit more quickly." I could see Race's eyes fairly bugging out of his head. He moved towards me, but I brought my hands up fast.
"It's not that you're not a nice kid, cuz you are Race. But I'm tired of being a street rat, and I want something better." The harshness of his voice startled me and I felt hurt course through my veins.
"I don't know why I wasted my time on you then, Misery. You never said anything about this before. Is that what I was to you all along? A waste of your precious time and sanity while you were looking for someone better?"
'Oh God Race' I thought as I felt tears gather in the corner's of my eyes, 'I am so sorry'.
"You're damn right kid." I shot back just as brusquely. He spat onto the sidewalk near my feet and without another word stomped back into the lodging house. I fled into the alleyway next to the side of the building and hooking my arm around the fire escape ladder, I monkeyed my way up to the roof, where I bitterly wept into my shaking hands.
I spent the rest of the night up there, rocking back and forth angry that no one had come looking for me, but furious with myself for deliberately hurting Racetrack. I must have slept, for a seagull woke me as it cried over head. The sun was coming up and I hastily slunk down the fire escape and into the lodging house. Wrapping up my meager possessions I paused at Race's bunk and watched him sleep for a few moments before leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips. He tasted like peppermint and cigars and I felt a sob well up in my throat.
"Someday you'll understand Race, someday." And with that I left the lodging house for good, my sack of clothes and other memento's slung over my narrow shoulder. I paused on the sidewalk and let the first rays of the dawning sun shine onto my face as I lit a cigarette. Then I headed towards the railroad tracks, Spot, and my new life.
A/N – Just another brief note, this ISN'T the end. There are still a few more chapters, I'd say two maybe three. Depends on how long I want to make them. – A/N
SHOUT OUTS!!
Racetaps – Yay a new reviewer! Yeah I think Misery belongs with Race as well. Here's another update I hope you like it.
NadaZimri – Hey thanks for sending your friend to read my POTC fic, I appreciate that. I'm so glad FFnet is fixed, I was getting upset and all.
Pokey7 – Yeah she does go away, but everything will get resolved, I promise.
Pyro – Yay a Newsie Camp kid! Thank you so much, that's awesome. And here's an update! :D
JamieBell – Whoo hooo I can't wait for an update from you. I know how it is to be wicked busy. Spot's a jerk, but he's a loveable jerk and he's just jealous of Racetrack and Misery which is why he acts the way he does. But deep down he's a good guy.
NaughteeLady – Hey whoever said I wasn't crazy? *twitch* Thanks for reviewing! ;D
My dog ate my penname – Nah she didn't go back to Spot, she just knows Spot will help her out. Hehe Spitball, I like that name that's a good one. Yay for the chicken dance!
Chelsea – It's warm enough for sandals! Even though it snowed her today, boo. But it will soon be warm enough every day for sandals. Yippee!
Kays14 – Race will be alright. I promise lots of rainbows and sunshine in the end. Maybe. Muahaha..
JustDuck – Love yah too Duck! Spot says thanks for the back pat but he would have gone for a butt grab as well. *shakes head at Spot* I got my muses back so I should be updating more frequently. *hugs JustDuck*
Brooklyn Myst – Spot does know that, he's just in denial. And there's a good reason, but Misery's mostly just afraid of losing Race and everyone else she cares about.
Jaws – You're welcome, you're easy to be nice to! Don't worry, Race does save the day eventually.
Pistol McGovern was not the sort of girl who could usually keep secrets. She knew deep down in her heart that the right thing to do was go find Race, and let him know that Misery was planning on running. Something wouldn't let her do that, and she also knew that it was her loyalty to the female race and her own knowledge that she was running from something that she wasn't strong enough to admit to as well.
Trudging down the street, her red hair hanging in her face, she frowned and her scowl only deepened when she heard the familiar voice of her best friend in the whole world hail her. Not stopping, she quickly turned down an alleyway and would have gotten away when she felt firm yet gentle hands rest on her shoulders.
"Pistol what the Hell are you doing?" She averted her eyes from Kid Blink's and muttered something non-committal although her heart beat hard against her chest at the way he was looking at her. Something in between annoyance and tenderness shown in his one good eye as he crossed his arms over his chest.
"I'm walking what does it look like Sherlock?" Kid Blink narrowed his eye at her and this time his grimace matched her own.
"No, you're avoiding me." Pistol felt her chest squeeze painfully as he cupped her chin in a callused hand and lifted it so that she was looking at him. Glowering up at him he burst into laughter at her face and shook his head.
"God you're the best gal a guy could ever have," he guffawed, holding his sides. Pistol froze, and jerked her chin out of his hand.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped. He froze as well and looked at her uncertainly. Scuffing a boot into the dirt of the alleyway he was now the one to avoid her gaze.
"Never mind, Pistol. Just forget it." Pistol lit a cigarette and quickly threw the match away so he wouldn't see her shaking hand. Blowing smoke forcibly out of her nostrils she jabbed her cigarette towards his face.
"No, I won't forget it and you can damn well talk to me again when you feel like explaining yourself." With that, she spun on one heel and stalked out of the alleyway ignoring his feeble call for her to stop and wait up. Fuming, she walked towards the Square where she hoped to find some of the younger newsies. Her head was in such a whirl, she forgot all about Misery until much, much later.
At the time that Pistol was contemplating her feelings for Kid Blink, I sat in a small Italian restaurant called Luigi's where Spot apparently came quite a bit and watched him put away a heaping plate of spaghetti like he was eating the last meal of his life. Looking up with strands of spaghetti hanging out of his mouth he sucked them up and grinned at me.
"You should see the look on yer face," he laughed teasingly. I shook my head.
"You should see the sauce all over yours." I chuckled and for the first time that day felt the semblance of happiness. Spot's face softened and I looked alarmed for he gave me a bitter grin and shook his own head.
"Don't worry Mis; I'm not going to try to win you away from Race again." I traced a pattern on the tablecloth and looked away from him. He loudly began slurping up his spaghetti once more and when he was done, Luigi himself came from the kitchen and Spot thanked him and tipped him. The short, portly Italian man thanked Spot profusely and I hid a smile behind my hand.
Spot hiked his cane up from where it had been leaning against the chair and offered me his arm, like a perfect gentleman.
"Let's go find a place to discuss your plans," he said lighting a smoke and handing it to me before lighting one for himself. I slapped my bowler hat onto my head and nodded as we quickly went down the street and towards the Brooklyn Lodging House.
Once reaching the Lodging House, Spot told Riddle a terse warning that we weren't to be disturbed. More than one of the kids watched us with great interest as we trooped upstairs to Spot's bedroom. I was surprised to see the cot still in the corner. Spot shrugged.
"Loon still has nightmares. I let the kid sleep in here because it make's him feel better." Seeing my gentle smile, Spot rolled his eyes and waved a hand at me.
"Don't get all sappy, dame. Remember it ain't what you want anymore." I walked up behind Spot and put my hands on his shoulders and rested my chin in the crook of his neck. I could feel him tense his muscles and he turned so that his cheek was flat against my forehead.
"Spot you're going to make some girl very, very happy one day," I whispered. I felt his shoulder's droop and he kissed my forehead before carefully sliding away from me.
"I took the liberty of telegramming Marty again for ya. You know the broad in New Hampshire. She said they'll be expecting ya in a few days' time." I stared at him blankly.
"When did you do that?" He grinned at me and sat down in a chair by a small table before resting his feet up on the open windowsill.
"When we stopped at the post office and you waited outside to smoke." I felt my cheeks redden and I sniffed at him while he actually giggled at me. Flopping down onto Loon's cot, I rested my hands loosely in between my legs and sighed.
"So when do I leave?" Spot exhaled a few smoke rings and gave me a sad look.
"Tomorrow morning, on the six o'clock train, get all your good-byes done tonight." I shook my head mutely before saying in a husky voice;
"Nobody can know I'm leaving. I don't want Race to try to stop me; it's really for his own good. And for everyone else's." Spot's eyes hardened and he shook his head briefly before flicking his cigarette out the window.
"At least write him a letter Misery. The kid's going to be beside himself with worry more than pissed off at you. Then he's going to come after me, you do realize this? If anyone tells him that I was the last person you were with, he's going to naturally assume that I know where you are and I won't tell him. Not unless you want me to." I shook my head and he sighed.
I left Brooklyn late in the afternoon, with Riddle walking me back to Manhattan. He had combed his shaggy hair and he walked with a very determined air. I was amused, and saddened that I might not be around to see what the outcome of his going after Bourbon would be.
Spot had told me that he would meet me at the train station in Manhattan at 5:30 sharp. I was relieved, because the newsies would all be walking their selling routes by then. I knew that I had to find a way to break the news to Racetrack and I thought for a quick second to maybe break up with him in a public manner so that he would be angry at me and not look for me after I left.
Deciding that was the best tactic, I hurried my pace until we reached the lodging house. By then it was evening and Riddle quickly left me to find Bourbon. I made my way to Racetrack who wound an arm around my waist and laid his head against my middle. He was sitting on a battered couch in the lobby with Jack, David, and a troubled looking Kid Blink.
"How's it going dollface? I haven't seen you all day." I took a deep breath and tried to still my shivering. He looked up at me concerned.
"Race, we need to talk." Worry flashed through his dark brown eyes and he stood up, guiding me outside onto the sidewalk. Lighting a cigar he leaned up against the brick building. It was growing dark and I could barely see his face.
"Listen, I've been thinking. I don't want to sell newspapers anymore and I know that you still do. It would really be best if I found someone who was a little more ambitious, more family oriented. Someone who wanted to move up in the world a little bit more quickly." I could see Race's eyes fairly bugging out of his head. He moved towards me, but I brought my hands up fast.
"It's not that you're not a nice kid, cuz you are Race. But I'm tired of being a street rat, and I want something better." The harshness of his voice startled me and I felt hurt course through my veins.
"I don't know why I wasted my time on you then, Misery. You never said anything about this before. Is that what I was to you all along? A waste of your precious time and sanity while you were looking for someone better?"
'Oh God Race' I thought as I felt tears gather in the corner's of my eyes, 'I am so sorry'.
"You're damn right kid." I shot back just as brusquely. He spat onto the sidewalk near my feet and without another word stomped back into the lodging house. I fled into the alleyway next to the side of the building and hooking my arm around the fire escape ladder, I monkeyed my way up to the roof, where I bitterly wept into my shaking hands.
I spent the rest of the night up there, rocking back and forth angry that no one had come looking for me, but furious with myself for deliberately hurting Racetrack. I must have slept, for a seagull woke me as it cried over head. The sun was coming up and I hastily slunk down the fire escape and into the lodging house. Wrapping up my meager possessions I paused at Race's bunk and watched him sleep for a few moments before leaning over and kissing him softly on the lips. He tasted like peppermint and cigars and I felt a sob well up in my throat.
"Someday you'll understand Race, someday." And with that I left the lodging house for good, my sack of clothes and other memento's slung over my narrow shoulder. I paused on the sidewalk and let the first rays of the dawning sun shine onto my face as I lit a cigarette. Then I headed towards the railroad tracks, Spot, and my new life.
A/N – Just another brief note, this ISN'T the end. There are still a few more chapters, I'd say two maybe three. Depends on how long I want to make them. – A/N
SHOUT OUTS!!
Racetaps – Yay a new reviewer! Yeah I think Misery belongs with Race as well. Here's another update I hope you like it.
NadaZimri – Hey thanks for sending your friend to read my POTC fic, I appreciate that. I'm so glad FFnet is fixed, I was getting upset and all.
Pokey7 – Yeah she does go away, but everything will get resolved, I promise.
Pyro – Yay a Newsie Camp kid! Thank you so much, that's awesome. And here's an update! :D
JamieBell – Whoo hooo I can't wait for an update from you. I know how it is to be wicked busy. Spot's a jerk, but he's a loveable jerk and he's just jealous of Racetrack and Misery which is why he acts the way he does. But deep down he's a good guy.
NaughteeLady – Hey whoever said I wasn't crazy? *twitch* Thanks for reviewing! ;D
My dog ate my penname – Nah she didn't go back to Spot, she just knows Spot will help her out. Hehe Spitball, I like that name that's a good one. Yay for the chicken dance!
Chelsea – It's warm enough for sandals! Even though it snowed her today, boo. But it will soon be warm enough every day for sandals. Yippee!
Kays14 – Race will be alright. I promise lots of rainbows and sunshine in the end. Maybe. Muahaha..
JustDuck – Love yah too Duck! Spot says thanks for the back pat but he would have gone for a butt grab as well. *shakes head at Spot* I got my muses back so I should be updating more frequently. *hugs JustDuck*
Brooklyn Myst – Spot does know that, he's just in denial. And there's a good reason, but Misery's mostly just afraid of losing Race and everyone else she cares about.
Jaws – You're welcome, you're easy to be nice to! Don't worry, Race does save the day eventually.