He looked under his bunk. He looked under the mattress. He checked the washroom, the fire escape, the roof and the loose floorboard under the stairs. He looked under his mattress once more, just to be sure, but they were nowhere to be found.
They were gone.
Mush sat heavily on his bunk in defeat.
He leaned over the edge and stared at the empty spot on the floor. He remembered, quite distinctly, that he had laid them out at the foot of his bunk before he went to sleep last night. He always put them in the same place, nobody could have taken them accidentally.
A few chuckles drifted in from the washroom. Mush looked up to see Skittery elbowing Jack. Both of them were watching him with barely concealed smiles.
Mush's eyes narrowed as he realized what was going on.
Not misplaced, stolen.
He looked at the room with a renewed sense of purpose, his gaze accusing anyone who happened to make the mistake of looking at him. Whoever had done it would pay dearly. He could hear Jack laughing openly now, something that only fueled his growing anger.
Mush stood up and set his sights on the closest person who looked remotely capable of such a despicable act.
"Where are they?" he demanded.
Race looked up from yesterday's paper, "Where are what?"
"My shoes, where are they?"
"Blink took'em," Race said indifferently as he flipped the page.
"Where'd he put'em?"
"Do I look like I know?" Race said.
"Lousy bum," Mush fumed under his breath. He should have expected something like that from Blink. He hated going barefoot and Blink knew it. Hell, everyone knew it, but Blink was the only one who would want him to suffer through a day without shoes.
"You want mine?" Race said a moment later. He didn't look overly concerned. It wasn't his shoes that were missing.
"What are you gonna wear?" Mush asked, half-tempted to take him up on it.
"Nothin'. I don't mind," Race shrugged.
"Nah, keep'em," Mush said. He couldn't take Race's shoes. Only an unfeeling bummer like Blink would take someone's shoes.
Mush crossed the room to Blink's bunk. He batted away the pillow before lifting the mattress and feeling underneath. No shoes. He felt along the edge of the wooden crossbeams, half expecting Blink would be stupid enough to put them there. No luck.
"You ain't gonna find them," he heard Jack say from across the room.
"And why's that?" Mush said, not stopping in his search as he rifled through Blink's extra clothes.
"Cause."
"Cause what?"
"Cause you ain't looking in the right place."
"Where are they, Jack?" Mush looked at him with annoyance and suspicion.
"Look, I'm stayin' out of this one," Jack said, putting his hands up defensively, "Why don't you just give Blink his smokes back?"
"Because he locked me out last week!" Mush shot back as he resumed his search. Trying to get any information out of Jack was a lost cause, he was enjoying himself too much.
"It was an accident," Jack said unconvincingly. Mush could tell he was smiling without even looking at him. Grinning ear to ear, no doubt. He couldn't even lie about it with a straight face.
"Says you," Mush muttered. Jack always took Blink's side.
He looked up to see Race leaning against the bunk post. Race held out his cigarette for him. Mush took one last desperate look at the mess on the floor that had formerly been Blink's belongings before he resigned himself to the fact that he would be shoeless for the day.
"Come on, I'll help you look tonight. It's late," Race said glancing at Jack with half-smile.
So that's how it was. They were all in on it. Blink probably promised them a drink if they kept quiet. Race never took sides unless he was getting something out of it.
He took the offered cigarette from Race's fingertips and flicked it to the ground.
"Don't be like that," Race said as Mush pushed past him.
It was shaping up to be a miserable day. If there was something he hated more than working barefoot, he hadn't found it. He would have rather tried to sell a copy of The World to Hearst himself.
Blink was going to die for this. Slowly and painfully.
Mush plodded through the streets with his papers jammed under his arm. He had smoked nearly all of his cigarettes in the space of an hour and the morning hadn't even started yet.
The bottoms of his feet were blackened with soot and grime that he could feel between his toes. It would take hours to scrub them clean, assuming he had hours to waste washing his feet, which he didn't. One thing was for sure, when he did get around to scraping the dirt from his feet, he would use Blink's best shirt as a washcloth.
A washerwoman threw a bucket of water onto the street. The cobblestones turned slick underneath him and dirt became mud, mixing with the rotting garbage. His toes slipped easily into the cracks of the stones and so did everyone else's.
He had more than a few nicks on the tops of his feet from the clumsy shoes that stepped on him. Men with large boots, women with little points on the toe, and heels, God how he hated the heels. Whoever had invented heels on shoes was going up on his list, right after Blink. No matter how fast he walked or how careful he was, he couldn't escape the inevitable toe-crushing encounters. Of course, there were no apologies. They kept on walking and never even noticed he was there.
At this rate, he was sure he would be crippled by the end of the day. His legs would certainly have to be amputated. Blink would be sorry then.
The streets were covered in dirt, filth and anything else people wanted to get rid of. If given the choice, anyone would wear shoes. It didn't matter if they had holes, were too big, or didn't match, shoes were shoes and having them was the important part.
Mush took out one of Blink's cigarettes and lit it with a small sense of revenge.
It wasn't that he was soft. He could take a cold winter without a coat or go without eating for a few days and he'd be the last to complain. But shoeless was something else entirely. He hated the way he could feel every imperfection on the street. He hated stepping in things that smelled worse than him and not being able to do anything about it. What he hated the most though, were the looks he got from people and having to pretend he didn't notice them.
Shoeless meant you didn't have anything. It meant you couldn't even scrounge up a pair, let alone buy one. That was all right if you were a small child, but Mush was almost a man. It was a pitiful thing to see a kid his age without shoes. It was a sign he couldn't cut it.
What he would have given to have his shoes back.
His brown leather shoes with the soles worn smooth. One was missing a lace and the other had a hole in the heel. He had traded a blanket for them a few years back and thought he had gotten the low end of the deal. He never forgot the first time he slipped them on and laced up the one lace. His old ones were so small they had cut into his heels when he walked. But this new pair fit, he'd never had one that fit before.
They fit, they weren't falling apart and they were his. They were much better than that shabby blanket ever was. They were, in fact, perfect.
They were the most perfect pair of shoes he had ever owned and Blink had stolen them.
As Mush stood out on the corner, the mud on his feet began to dry and crack in the sun. He hated that.
The cobblestones began to heat underneath him, and it wasn't even midday yet. They would be unbearable to stand on in a few hours, which meant he would have to find a new spot. He didn't bother to say thank-you to a man that bought a paper off him.
Mush felt an arm on his shoulder.
He turned to see Blink grinning ear to ear. Mush gave him a dark look before shrugging the arm off. Taking another drag on Blink's cigarette, he tried to keep his temper.
"So, I hear you lost somethin'," Blink said, not dissuaded in the slightest from having his fun.
"You got nerve," Mush muttered.
"What?" Blink said with mock innocence, "I just wanted to help you find what you're lookin' for. What was it again? You're socks?"
"Shoes," Mush snapped at him.
"Right, shoes," Blink said, "You know, I think I saw a pair like yours down at the secondhand shop."
"You didn't-" Mush began, his eyes widening in horror and disbelief before narrowing in anger once again. "You sold my shoes?"
"If you hurry, you might be able to get them back," Blink advised him, "Before someone buys'em."
That was it. His fingers clenched into his stack of papers
He had been civil, he had held his temper, he had even resisted the urge to punch Blink directly in the nose, but he was through playing nice. Mush threw down the cigarette. Blink was going to get what was coming to him. It might not be the most subtle revenge, but a black eye would make Blink think twice before swiping his shoes again.
Blink ducked out of arm's reach and laughed. His annoyingly pleased smile dared Mush to try and hit him. When Mush took a step towards him, he took a step back.
"Come on, Mush. We all know you hit like a girl," Blink ragged him.
"And you cry like one," Mush said, trying to get close enough to land a punch.
Blink didn't give him the chance, slipping through an opening between two pushcarts. Mush followed and took off running after Blink.
Blink glanced over his shoulder and seemed surprised that Mush was keeping up. He picked up his pace, running faster and taking more risky cuts through the traffic.
Blink was stupid if he thought he could outrun Mush on these streets. Mush knew them like the back of his hand and he would have been able to catch Blink if he didn't have to spend precious attention on where his feet were going. He jumped over a missing cobblestone and narrowly missed a nail that rolled into his path.
Blink took a sharp turn around the corner up ahead. As he did, his shirt caught on a crate and sent it crashing down behind him. Empty bottles shattered against the splintered wood and left shards scattered on ground.
Mush saw it too late to avoid.
His papers hit the street just before he did, ripping underneath him as he fell. He rolled onto his back, biting back any cries of pain that dared to cross his lips. Clutching his foot tightly, he looked for the source of the pain, but he could see nothing against the black of the dirt that covered his skin.
Great, just great.
Mush cursed himself for not looking where he was going and Blink for starting the stupid chase, himself for following and Blink again for hiding his shoes in the first place.
He held his injured foot close to him as he tried to sit up, ignoring what he could of the pain and the warm sensation that was dripping through his fingers. He also tried to ignore the rapidly returning footsteps that were probably Blink's, coming back to gloat, no doubt. He wished Blink had kept on running so that he could have been alone in his shoeless misery. But no, Blink always had to show his ugly face. Shoe-stealing, ugly bum.
"What happened? Where you hurt?" Blink asked, as he knelt down next to Mush. There was only concern in his voice, something that annoyed Mush even further.
"I ain't hurt," Mush said, maintaining his pride. He didn't want Blink's pity, he didn't want his concern, all he wanted was his shoes back.
"Move your fingers," Blink said, trying to get a look at Mush's foot.
"I told you I'm fine. So, cheese it." Mush waived him off and attempted to get up on his own. The moment he put pressure on his bad foot, a new wave of pain shot through him, he lost his balance and fell back to the ground. Mush cursed again, this time aloud.
"Now can I look at it?" Blink asked.
Mush didn't answer, he didn't even bother to look at Blink, he just stuck his foot out for him to see. He flinched as Blink took his foot into his hands.
"Don't be soft," Blink joked.
Mush wasn't in a joking mood. "You want me to shove a piece of glass in your foot? Then we can see who's bein' soft."
Blink just laughed quietly.
Mush scowled and wiped his hands on the nearest paper, leaving red streaks on the newsprint. They were supposed to have bought him dinner that night, now they were ruined. Not one looked salvageable. That was just what he needed on top of it all. No shoes, no papers and no money.
"How bad is it?" Mush asked. He tried to see past Blink's hands and make out what exactly he was doing. It hurt enough, though he could tell Blink was trying to be careful.
"It's nothin'," Blink said, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked to pick out the glass.
The way he said it made Mush believe it was nothing. The trickling blood down his heel was nothing, the throbbing pain was nothing. Of course, Blink would probably try to convince him that stealing his shoes was 'nothing' too. Everything was a joke to Blink.
A tearing pain ripped suddenly through the bottom of his foot. It caught him off-guard and he couldn't suppress the grimace that accompanied it.
"Don't be soft," Blink said under his breath.
"I ain't bein'-" Mush wasn't able to finish the thought. His breath caught in his throat as he stifled another cry of pain. He could swear Blink was doing it on purpose.
"See? It's nothin'," Blink said, holding a small shard of glass up for Mush to see before he tossed it aside.
It didn't look like 'nothing' to Mush. In fact, it looked like a 'something' that was entirely Blink's fault. For that reason, he didn't feel the need to thank Blink or forgive him either. No, that would only happen when his shoes were safely on his feet and Blink admitted what a jerk he was.
"I'll help you back," Blink offered. He held out his hand for Mush to take.
"I don't want your help," Mush said as he took a hold of Blink's arm
"Then, I'll just walk with you," Blink said, pulling him to his feet.
"I don't want you to walk with me," Mush said flatly. He straightened his shirt and brushed the dirt from his clothes.
Blink shrugged, appearing to get the message. "Sure thing."
Testing his foot, Mush put only a little weight on the heel. It seemed manageable. He'd be able to get back, and, with any luck, he'd be able to patch it up and get back out for the evening edition.
Blink watched him as left his papers where they had fallen and limped in the direction of the lodging house.
Mush tried not to notice as Blink followed him, a few steps behind.
They walked back in silence.
"It was an accident, you know," Blink said as Mush neared the lodging house door.
"What?"
"Me lockin' you out. I was gonna let you in, but I kinda fell asleep."
"Well, me takin' your smokes was an accident too," Mush said.
"It was?"
"Nope," Mush said over his shoulder as he limped through the door.
Mush sat on the edge of his bunk and pulled his shirt over his head. The day had been a wash and the night would probably be one too. He couldn't manage to walk more than a few steps before jarring his foot in one painful way or another. That meant he wasn't going out and wasn't eating either. He would've asked someone to bring something back for him, but they would all be drunk past caring in a few hours.
He rested his bare feet lightly on the floor. One foot was as clean as he could get it, the other was still black with dirt. He had spent the better part of the afternoon dabbing at it with a cloth, taking off the layers of dirt with painstaking care. When Race had come back, Mush had him take a look at it, he knew about cuts. Race said it would be fine if he didn't walk around too much and kept the dirt out. That would have been simple if he had his shoes back, which he did not. At this rate, he would have to walk around with newspapers tied to his feet.
"What the hell did you do?" Jack asked, catching sight of Mush on his way down the stairs.
"Blink."
"Blink stabbed you in the foot?"
"Yep," Mush responded as he reached up and hung his shirt over the bunk post.
Whether he believed him or not, Jack only gave Mush a raised eyebrow and disbelieving shake of his head as he descended the staircase.
Mush carefully swung his feet up onto the mattress and laid back. Blink had been back for a good hour and had still not returned his shoes. Maybe he had sold them after all and couldn't collect enough money to buy them back. Mush shuddered quietly at the thought. It wouldn't be the first stupid thing Blink had done.
"Why are you tellin' people I stabbed you?"
"Serves you right," Mush said, shifting onto his side to see Blink standing over him, "Where are my shoes?"
Blink dodged the question. "How's your foot? You gonna live?"
"Race says I got three days. I'll be dead by the end of the week," Mush said, laying back down.
Blink didn't have his shoes. Mush closed his eyes and tried not to be angry. He really wanted to punch Blink in the nose. He knew it would make him feel much better.
"So, I guess you won't need these then?"
Mush's eyes flew open and lifted his head enough to see Blink holding his shoes- his beloved shoes.
His first reaction was to snatch them out of Blink's unworthy hands, but he restrained himself. Instead, he held out his hand and let Blink give them back. He wasn't going to get excited over a pair of shoes, well, not in front of everyone else at least.
"I cut a new lace for the one that was missin'. They don't match or nothin'," Blink shrugged.
"Nah, it's nice," Mush said, looking them over in relief. They were in one piece and it looked like Blink had even attempted to polish them. Blink must have had a conscience after all.
Mush lifted the edge of his mattress and slipped them underneath. He wasn't going to take any chances from now on. If they weren't on his feet, he would be laying on top of them. No one would part him with his shoes again.
"Blink, we ain't waitin' for ya," a voice shouted from the stairs.
"Yeah, I'm comin'!" he called, before turning back to Mush, "I'll bring you back somethin', alright?"
God, Blink must have felt guilty. He never tried to make up for his jokes, misguided or otherwise.
"Thanks," Mush said before he could stop himself.
Blink cracked a smile, knowing he was forgiven.
He didn't expect Blink would remember to bring him the food, so he didn't get his hopes up. It was the thought that counted, which was especially true in Blink's case, considering he did so little of it.
The sounds of conversation faded as the room drifted off to sleep. Mush could still hear the noise from the pub crowds down the street and it would only be a matter of time before those that went out would come stumbling back in.
In the darkness, he pulled out his shoes from under the mattress. He sat up and quietly slipped them on, lacing them up loosely around his bandaged foot. Before he laid back down, he reached under his bed and pulled out a pillow that looked suspiciously like Blink's. He arranged it under his feet and settled back for the night, a wide smile fixed on his face.
A/n: This is my first attempt at a one-shot, so feedback of all kinds is most welcome.
This is for B, who I told many, many moons ago I would write a Blink fic in honor of her birthday….it is neither her birthday, nor a Blink fic, but it's the thought, right? ;0)