Author note: Blah blah blah, here's this chapter…just smile and nod…

We all sat in the Manhattan Lodging House, watching Scout closely, praying for her to wake up. Jack sat beside her bed, clutching onto her hand. He wiped away some tears that had escaped his eyes, and continued to stay blankly at Scout.

We were in her room behind the bookcase. It had one bed, and a washroom. I sat down at the end of her bed, forcing myself to be strong.

Spot sat on the windowsill, staring outside. He hadn't spoken since the doctor left. I could remember every word the doctor had said, and I felt like ripping my heart out…

Flashback

After Spot had carried Scout back to Manhattan, Spark and I ran to the doctor and brought him back to the Lodging House. Les was in Spark's arms, breathing steadily. He laid him down in the boy's bunk room, and I cleaned him up.

When I had entered Scout's room, I found Jack and Spot at her side, waiting for the doctor to finish wrapping up her head. I walked to Spot's side and stared at Scout's pale face.

The three of us stared anxiously at the doctor, waiting for the good or bad news.

"Well," he finally said, putting his hands behind his back. I glanced at Spot who seemed to be hanging on his every word.

"It seems that she's taken a pretty bad fall," he started, glancing down at her. I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying to cure my dry mouth.

"I'm going to be honest with you. I highly doubt that she'll wake up." He looked away from our sad faces and fiddled with his jacket.

"W-what?" I heard Jack say, his voice creaking a bit.

"She is in pretty bad condition right now, and I've done all that I could."

"All youse did was put a bandage 'round 'er head!" I heard Spot yell. I looked at him, and he was clenching his fists. I looked back at the doctor, who seemed to be a bit scared about Spot's outburst.

"I'm sorry but it's all that I could do." He then gathered his belongings. I closed my eyes and looked away, letting a tear slip down my face and die on my lips. The doctor soon left, leaving us to mourn over Scout.

Jack put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. I wiped away my tears and watched Spot. His expressional was actually readable. I could tell that he wanted to cry, but he was too good for that.

Flashback end

Jack rose from the chair and said to me in a creaky voice,

"I'm gonna go check up on Les." I nodded and he left, leaving a strange tension in the room. I touched Scout's hand which was warm from Jack holding it for so long. I sniffed, and wiped away some of my tears. I also wanted to check up on Les, but I didn't want to leave Scout.

If only it were me instead of you…I couldn't lose Scout. I haven't known her for long, but she reminded me so much of Sam. Beautiful, funny and tomboyish. They almost had the same laugh, and the same light brown hair. If I lost her, then it would be like losing Sam all over again, and I couldn't handle that.

Losing Sam was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, other than losing my mother. But gaining Scout as a friend was the best thing that ever happened to me. Around her I felt more comfortable, like she was my sister.

I looked over at Spot's figure, still sitting quietly on the windowsill, almost like he was waiting for the world to end. He hadn't moved. I wanted to say something, but I was afraid of what he'd do. I heard someone enter the room and saw Jack. Spark had left hours ago, probably to go run Brooklyn for Spot.

Jack sighed and sat back down in his chair, taking Scout's hand back into his.

"How's Les?" I finally asked, breaking the deadly silence.

"Still sleepin," Jack said, closing his eyes. He turned around a bit and peaked over at Spot. He whispered,

"Maybe youse wanna make sure he's okay." I looked at Spot who hadn't heard Jack.

"What if he's mad?" I asked.

"He don't have any reason ta be mad at youse." Jack whispered back. I nodded, and silently made my way over to Spot. Jack laid his head on the end of the bed and closed his eyes, probably to take a nap.

"Spot?" I said, hoping to grab his attention. He didn't make any movement. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Spot, are you okay?" I asked. He didn't move or speak, so I decided to give up. I turned around to leave, but was startled to hear him speak.

"We shouldn't have fought dem guys." I turned back around. Spot was still staring out of the window, his head against the glass.

"We were only protecting Les," I told him, walking back to his side.

"Yeah and look where dat got us. Scout is gonna die now." I flinched at his words.

"Spot, we aren't sure if that's a true statement or not," I reassured him. Spot turned his head to me, and I seen sadness gleaming in his eyes. They were watery, but no tears fell; he wouldn't allow it.

"And we don't know if it's false, either." I looked down at my shoes.

"We can't give up hope." Spot shook his head,

"Dere is no hope left." I let a tear fall, and turned my gaze to Spot.

"Then you don't believe in Scout." Spot closed his eyes and sighed.

"Why is youse so sure about her? How's do you know dat she'll live?" Spot asked.

"I don't. I just pray."

"Sometimes I wonder why I even rescued youse from dat cell." I felt my heart drown in a raging sea, and then burn into ashes. Spot looked away and stared out of the window. I bit my lip and turned away. I walked to the door/bookcase and looked back at Spot. He was looking straight at me from the reflection of the glass. I let a few tears fall and left the room, not turning back.

I walked the crowded streets of Manhattan. There may have been well over a hundred people walking past me, but I still felt lonely. Like I was the only one walking. My head hung and I stared numbly at the ground under my feet. He had sounded so regretful for saving me. If he could I bet he'd probably lock me back up.

I crossed my arms over my chest and kicked a rock. Maybe I should just go back to California. Start a new life there. Spot and the others apparently didn't need me, so why stay? Why did I stay in the first place? I knew good and well that I wouldn't be able to find my uncle, so why did I still stay?

I bet that if he hadn't found me Scout wouldn't have ever gotten hurt. I'd probably already be dead, and I could be with mother and Sam in heaven. Maybe if I just locked myself back up in that cell then I can die there. It'd probably take about a week, but I was okay with that. I wanted to be with people that cared for me, like mother and Sam.

I could just go back to the warehouse, and die. Or, I could jump into the river at the docks in Brooklyn, and drown like Sam did.

I stared at the sky. It wasn't too long before it, too, started to cry, pouring down on top of my head. The big gray clouds blocked the sun, and mourned for Scout. I could fell my warm, salty tears mixing with the cold rain drops kissing my cheeks.

Which way to Brooklyn? I looked around to see if I could see anything that would remind me of a way to Brooklyn. Nothing caught my eye. I instantly covered my mouth with my hand and had a short fit of coughs. My eyes watered and stung. I shook my head, and sneezed.

Great, now I'm going to get pneumonia, I thought. I looked around for shelter and my eye immediately caught a sign that read, "Tibby's." Without hesitation I ran to the restaurant, entering quietly. I felt a warm sensation course through my cold, wet body. I looked around to find it half empty.

I sat at the table beside the window that Jack, Scout and I had sat at. I stared out the window and watched the cluster of people running for shelter.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" came a sweet voice. I turned my head and saw a man to be in his late twenties.

"No thank you, I'm just waiting for the rain to slow down," I said in a hoarse voice. The waiter smiled,

"Well then how about a drink on the house?" I smiled and nodded, accepting his generous offer. He smiled once more and walked away. I breathed hot air into my hands and rubbed them together, trying my best to keep warm. The waiter soon came back with a drink in his hand, and a blanket draped over his arm. He set the drink down in front of me, and handed me the blanket.

"To keep from getting sick," he said. I smiled and took the blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders. I took a sip of the drink and sighed deeply. I still felt bad from what Spot had said to me earlier. I glanced out the window, the sky still crying uncontrollably. I pulled the blanket tightly around me, and stared at the families filling up the other tables.

There was a woman, a man, and a little boy and girl, enjoying a nice, hot meal. The mother saw her daughter wipe her hands on her white dress. The woman instantly grabbed a napkin and took her daughter's hands, wiping them off the proper way. She whispered something in her daughter's ear, and the young girl nodded and continued to eat.

I sighed and lowered my head, missing my mother terribly. I wanted to be with my family again. It's all I needed to keep my heart warm. But no, it was turning cold.

I shivered and took another sip from my drink, and listened to the little girl giggle as her father gently tickled her. I heard the door to Tibby's open, and didn't bother to see who had entered. If it were my guess, I'd say it was another family coming to enjoy a meal together. Some of the kids that had a family probably didn't know just how lucky they were.

They didn't know how it felt to watch other's enjoy their life with their families, while you starved in the streets and tried to gain money from the people that pitied you. Oh what I would give to just have at least one more family dinner with my family.

I heard someone sit in the seat in front of me. I kept my eyes on my drink. The waiter came back and asked the person what they wanted.

"Two coffees," Spot told him. The waiter nodded and glanced at me. The waiter left and Spot stared intently at me.

"What do you want?" I asked weakly. I was, in fact, becoming sick. Probably just the common cold. Spot took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair.

"About what I said earlier," he started.

"Yeah, I get it. You don't want me around."

"No, dat ain't what I'm sayin. I was mad, mad at everythin."

"But you don't want me around, unless that was sarcasm back there, and I'm a hundred percent sure that it wasn't." Spot glanced at the family that I was staring at earlier.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" I turned my gaze to the family and then back to my drink.

"I know how youse feel, Sage. What were youse plannin on doin if I didn't come back for youse?" I shrugged, and replied,

"Either go back to the dungeon and die, or drown." Spot flinched. I closed my eyes and pulled the blanket tightly after I realized it was loose. The waiter soon came back and set the two coffees on the table.

Spot pushed one in front of my face,

"Drink, youse is gonna need ta stay awake for Scout." I wrapped my fingers around the cup and sipped on the hot coffee.

"Will that be all?" the waiter asked. Spot nodded, and the waiter left.

"I'm sorry," he said. I looked up at Spot, who looked like he was dead serious.

"I'm sorry for hurting youse. You deserve better treatment den dat." I laid my head down on the table and let out a cough.

"C'mon, we need ta go back to tha Lodging House." Spot pulled out some coins and laid them down onto the table. I didn't move.

"C'mon, Sage." I shook my head.

"There isn't a reason for me to stay, Spot." Spot stared at me oddly. I looked away,

"I don't belong here. I'm going back to California."

Author note: -Ahem- I feel very proud of myself to being able to get 11 chapters out. -Applause- You should thank my sister for that, because she made me update. So, remember to thank her for making me write all of these chapters. -Bows-