Author note: Whoohoo, be happy, I'm in a good mood! Currently listening "I write sins, not Tragedies" by Panic! at the disco. Awesome song! Anyways, it's a warm, beautiful day, the sun is shining…and…and…and…I don't know. So I'm gonna shut up now…

Wades did what he said he would and talked to the police and the people who run the orphanage. According to him they didn't put up much of a fight, and said they would gladly get those chaotic newsies up.

"Spot caused a lot of trouble," Wades explained. "Playing pranks on the nuns, and getting into many fights. They already threatened to take his can away after he whacked somebody up the head with it." I laughed hard at the thought of Spot beating someone in the head with his cane, and then being threatened if he didn't stop.

"Sounds like Spot," I said.

"All the newsies are causin trouble. Those people just don't understand; there are a bunch of snot-nosed kids up there, acting like their better than the boys. So you should already know the boys didn't take that very well."

"Of course," I said as I patted Chance's head. "When will they be let out?"

"Tomorrow," Wades said as he scanned the newspaper. "But I don't want you to move in with the boys for another few weeks; let your ankle heal a little more." I nodded, not wanting to argue.

That day Wades had some people fix up his other house, bringing in bunks, and other things needed. There was already furniture in it, and it had a lot of rooms. Wades was quite wealthy, he was paying for the Lodging House to get rebuilt.

The next day Wades left, and didn't return until after nine.

"The boys are settled in," he said grinning widely. "They miss ya." I smiled to myself as I walked to my room – uh, on my crutches. My ankle was still in a bit of pain, and my wrist throbbed nonstop.

Dear Journal,

I still can't believe Harlem actually burned the Lodging House down! I don't know what I would have done if Spot died.

I like living with Wades and Meredith. Paul and Meredith Wades. They're extremely nice people, and Meredith even bought me more skirts and blouses. They aren't fancy, thank God, because I hate fancy clothes. They look like regular newsies clothes – girl's newsies clothes.

Well, Wades says I need to rest to heal my ankle.

-Sage

I closed my journal and laid back in my bed.

For the next few weeks I stayed with Wades and Meredith, but I was dying to see my boys. I was able to walk on my foot now, but it hurt terribly, so I limped. I still used one crutch, so it was okay.

The boys weren't aloud to visit, and I didn't know why. I was soon able to move in with my boys.

"Got everything?" Wades asked as I brought a bag into the room. I leaned on my crutch and let out a tired sigh.

"Yeah," I said, handing the bag over to him. Wades took it and escorted me out to the carriage. It was pretty hard getting into it, but I managed.

We rode in silence as we soon approached the house. The door on my right opened and the Wades helped me out, making sure not to hurt my ankle. I stepped down and winced at the slight pain, but ignored it as we approached the door. Wades opened it and I walked in, putting all of my weight on my crutch.

The house was very nice-looking on the inside, and the paint on the wall was a welcoming warm color – red. I smiled as the boys filed down the stairs and gave me bear hugs, choking me in the process.

They were very careful not to hurt me since Wades told them about my accidents. I wrapped my arms around Art's neck and hugged him.

"Sorry for throwing Spot on you," I laughed, making him blush slightly.

"It's alright, but I'd rather catch youse. He was heavy." Speaking of Spot – I looked around and didn't see the Brooklyn leader anywhere. I bit my lip as I hugged more of the guys, and watched one of them take my stuff to the room which was thankfully on the first floor.

"How ya feelin?" Splinter asked as he hugged me. I smiled, hugging him back.

"In pain," I replied, glancing down at my ankle. Splinter nodded and kissed my cheek.

"There, that'll make it feel better." I blushed as everyone's eyes turned to the person who just entered the room. I turned my head, and what do ya know, Mr. Brooklyn in the flesh.

He stared at me with unreadable eyes and held that damn cane at his side. I leaned on my crutch and bit my lip as he nodded to acknowledge my existence. He then walked by me and into the other room, not glancing back.

Splinter saw hurt in my eyes as I watched Spot leave without saying a word. Why didn't he say anything? Was he mad? I looked down at my feet in awkwardness and felt someone place a hand on my shoulder. I smiled at Dice and limped to my room, not sparing them a glance.

I lay on the comfy bed, playing with the locket around my neck. I was still worried about Manhattan since I hadn't heard anything about them. Skip wasn't around either.

I was still wondering why Spot didn't talk to me. Maybe he felt odd having me save his life. I didn't have a choice' only an idiot would let the person they love burn in a fire.

I sighed in frustration as I got to my feet and limped over to my door. I pulled it open and jumped when I saw Spot standing there. He stared down at me with those same unreadable eyes, boring into me.

"Uh…hey," I said, trying to break the awkwardness. Spot glanced to the side before walking past me and into the room. I turned around and followed him, shutting the door.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked. Spot sat on my bed and didn't say anything at first.

"Why?" he asked. I gave him a confused look.

"Why what?"

"Why did you save me?" Uh-oh…need an explanation and quick! I glanced around the room. What was I supposed to say: "Oh, I threw you out the window because I'm madly, head over hills in love with you?" Not gonna happen!

I then remembered the way I felt when I thought I was going to die. I had told myself that I wouldn't die until Spot knew the truth. What if I died right now and never got to tell him?

"Well, I…uh," I stuttered. The pain in my ankle returned as I tried to think up an excuse. Spot raised his eyebrows. "Well, I couldn't let you die. I mean, that would be rude." I switched my eyes to the floor and leaned against the door.

"I guess," Spot shrugged. He glanced around my room, and then settled his icy eyes on the locket around my neck. I could've sworn I saw him smile, but it could just be my imagination.

"Sorry for throwing you out the window," I muttered.

Spot rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Yeah, youse made my body ache." Spot's face then got serious as he rose from my bed and walked over to me, getting close to my face. "Why did youse go back?" he asked.

"Huh?" I asked stupidly.

"Back into da fire, why did youse go back? You coulda gotten killed!" I blinked a few times.

"I needed to get my…journal, drawings, and," I brought my fingers up to my necklace, "and my locket."

"Dat isn't worth yer life!"

"I tried to warn you but you were being too damn stubborn!" I screamed, causing him to flinch.

"Dat ain't da point-"

"Yes it is! You should have listened to me when I said not to drink that water! Why do you always have to be so stupid?" Spot smirked,

"I guess it rubbed off youse," he whispered in my ear. My face turned red from anger.

"I should've let you burn in that fire!" I said without anger. Spot looked amused, knowing that he was getting me angry.

"Now dat ain't nice," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Drop dead!" I then turned around to storm off, but I forgot about my once broken ankle and when I moved it I went falling for the floor.

My ankle throbbed as Spot leapt forward and grabbed hold of me before I hit the floor. I let out a small whimper as I felt the pain increase. Spot picked me up and carried me to my bed, and lied me down gently.

"Youse is so clumsy, Matthews," he told me. I closed my eyes shut tight, trying to ignore the feeling. Spot stared down at me in concern as I bit my lip hard. He sat down on my bed and traced his fingers over my ankle. "Who jumps out a ten foot window?" he asked.

"Well, I threw you out of one," I told him, trying to smile. Spot chuckled gently traced his hand over mine, and soon held it in his. He turned it over and unbandaged my wrist. I didn't feel like arguing, so I allowed him to do so.

He then stared down at my bare wrist, and closed his eyes with a look of sadness.

"Dis is my fault," he said. "If I'd jus' listen to ya."

"It's not your fault, Spot," I said, ignoring the throbbing pain from my wrist. "It's Harlem-"

"No, it is my fault! If I hadn't had fought with Harlem, den none of dis would've ever happened, and then you and I could already be…" Spot stopped and looked away from me. I wanted so much to tell him everything. How come I couldn't say it? Just a few simple words: "Spot, I love you." And then I'd watch him laugh in my face.

"Spot…I…I…"

Author note: No summary for the next chapter, because it's a surprise. Yes, I do know that this is short, but I'm starving and I WANT MY PIZZA! Grr! Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed it. Bye!