Notes: Last chapter. And I really don't believe that there's anymore to continue with after this. Plus I like open ended endings. ::smiles:: I hope that all of you who have read this enjoyed it. Tell your friends! ::laughs:: Also, I will be writing other stuff. Read that too. ::shameless plug::
Wow, this story has been in progress for, what? A little over a year and 6 months. Seriously. ::sighs:: I always get so side tracked and forget to finish stuff! Ah, well.
Thanks: All those who have listened to me bitch and moan about writer's block. Anyone, anywhere who has given me inspiration. Even if I just saw you on a train and was inspired. All of you who have given me feedback deserve thanks as well. Stage: Thanks for the musie. ::pokes Inigo!Bumblits:: (Yup. Just as you spelled it) Thanks to Jessie for everything, and all the swift kicks. Thanks to Molly and Kate for being such nitpicks. ::grins::
Disclaimer: The Newsies aren't mine. That is all.
Foundations
Chapter Ten: Beginning to Feel again.
Spot sat amid the beams and boards that lined the docks near the Brooklyn Lodging House. The rain had stopped, water puddled in the broken cobblestones and dripped off the wooden docks.
It was mid-afternoon, and Spot was finished selling. Many of the boys had run off to the vaudeville or to play cards. Spot had declined all offers.
So Spot sat, his knees pulled up to his chest, his head resting on them, his arms encircling them. His breath sighed in and out, but he was otherwise silent.
He tried to turn his mind from Jack, from the kiss. It wouldn't work. The butterfly that was his mind had gotten caught in the spider web of Jack's charisma.
He wanted to give in, to give Jack that chance back, to feel those lips against his again. But how could he? 'Wha' kinda person would I be if I gave up my morals, my way o' life, at da drop of a hat? How come I can' jus' leave 'im behind? Why can' Ise jus' go abou' my business like Ise always do? And how come I can' answer my own damn questions?'
Spot sat, his mind whirling in circles, though after though after thought flashed through his mind. He wasn't getting anywhere.
Spot stood, and ran a hand through his hair. He sighed. The bags under his eyes were so big that it looked like he'd been punched in the face. Twice. He was frowning. What had happened to the self-confident leader? He stuffed his hands into his pockets and started to walk.
***
Later, Spot arrived in Manhattan. The sun was beginning to set. Many of the Manhattan newsies were wandering about, but Spot could hear laughter from inside. He made his way over to the Lodging House, inside it, and climbed the stairs to the bedroom. A large game of poker was in progress, and Spot walked over to watch, to see if Jack was playing. Race was making quite a winning, but Bumlets was in a close second.
Jack was indeed playing.
His hair had become un-gelled, and was falling in his face. His lips were pouting with concentration, and his brows were drawn down. Spot stood across the circle, watching him. Finally, Bumlets looked up from the game.
"Heya, Spot! Whatcha doin' here?"
"Oh, Ise jus' lookin' for Jack."
Race, who was sitting next to Jack, nudged the Manhattan leader in the side. Jack, his concentration broken, looked over at Race, who just gestured towards Spot with his chin. Jack looked up.
Spot kept his gaze on Jack's lips, but he could almost feel jack's curious eyes searching his face for an answer.
"We gotta talk," he said to Jack, softly. Jack nodded and stood, his face even and calm. Spot turned on his heel and walked down the stairs, trusting Jack to follow him. He left the Lodging House, and leaned against the outside wall, waiting for Jack to extricate himself from the game.
Several minutes later, Jack appeared from the doorway and looked at Spot, waiting for him to talk. His face was wary.
Spot stood in silence, gathering his thoughts. The weight of the silence grew. Finally he turned to Jack.
"As much as Ise hate ta admit it, I don' know what ta do now. Somethin' else has ta happen, but I don' know what it is. I can' figure it out." Jack laughed, and Spot looked at him in confusion.
"Well, ain't dis just a role reversal? First I'm de one ta come to you and tell you this ain't over, and now it's you doin' the same! But den you kiss me, and say you'll 'think about it,' after a blunt refusal. Make up your mind already! Ise really don' know what ta think 'bout you, Spot. You're hot, you're cold, you're everything in-between."
"I'm not s'posed ta have ta make dese decisions, Jack. I don' know how ta make dese decisions! How do you do it? How do you know what will work an' what won't, an' what'll hurt you? How do you have faith in people?"
"I don' know, Spot. Instinct, I guess. Are you askin' 'ow I have faith in you? If you are, I mean, fuck, Spot. I've known you fer a really long time, I t'ink I know you well 'nough ta judge your character by now. Can' you trust anyone?" Spot frowned, and then shrugged.
"In some t'ings. Not in dis way. Trusting someone… like dis jus' don' work. It gives dem power over you. I can't let dat happen. Trusting someone like dat, it gives them da power, and I can' 'cept that." Spot looked over at Jack, only to find that the other boy was smiling at him slightly.
"If dere was one t'ing dat I learned from da strike, it's dat you're always gainin' and losin' power. You can' keep it; it's not somethin' you can touch or grasp or hold. It's always goin' from one person to another. Power isn't important ta me. I don' want yours, I don' need it. But it's up to you." Jack shrugged slightly, but he was unable to keep the mixed hope and anxiety off of his face.
Spot slid down the wall, sat on the ground, and closed his eyes.
Here he was again, at this decision. A decision he wasn't ready to make. When he opened his eyes, Jack was crouching in front of him.
"So, what's it gonna be, Spot?"
"I don' know! I don' know how to make dis decision. Power isn' something you can hold onto, but it's all I got. It's my assurance in life. How can you expect me to give it up?"
"I don' expect anythin' of you. Just think on dis, before you decide. Will you regret it? In a few years, will you look back at dis, and wish you hadn' cut it off? Think carefully, Spot."
Spot was taken aback, he'd never thought of it that way.
Jack leaned over him, placed his hands on the wall on either side of Spot's head, and pressed his closed mouth against Spot's. On impulse, Spot returned the kiss, opening his mouth against Jack's lips, taking the bottom lip between his teeth.
Spot pulled back.
Jack smiled.
And just like that, the corners of Spot's mouth twitched.
***
End Epilogue Two
End notes: Oh how oh how I want to reload these chapters without the stupid accent. I figured I'd lessen it for this chapter, but I can't just get rid of it in the last chapter of a story…. ::le sigh:: That's all folks! I hope you liked the show!
