Author note: I am being murdered by my sister…AHHHHH! Hehe, I finally got my pizza, I was starving! La la la, okay, here's the story.
I closed my mouth as Spot stared at me oddly.
"You what?" he asked. I bit my lip and hung my head.
"Nothing," I said. Spot sighed and looked around the room.
"Well, thanks," he said. "For savin me and all." He smiled once more and rose to his feet. He silently walked to the door and left, glancing behind him.
I laid there in the quiet room, thinking of what I could do. There wasn't much, just sit there and wait. After a few more moments the door to my room swung open and Skip ran in.
"Skip!" I said, pushing myself up. Skip was breathing deeply.
"Sage…" he breathed. He bent over slightly and took a few deep breaths. "It's Scout…" I wrinkled my eyebrows as Skip flopped down in a chair. "The fire…roof cavin in…hospital…dead…" My eyes grew wide.
"Scout's dead?" I screamed. Skip shook his head.
"No…someone else…Jack unconscious, Scout in hospital…someone dead…"
"Who?" I asked impatiently. "What happened? It's been weeks since the fire, where were you?" Skip waited to catch his breath before continuing.
"I warned all da newsies in Manhattan when I came back from spyin on Harlem. We all got out when da Lodging House was put on fire, but we never realized we left someone. Scout went back, and Jack tried ta grab 'er but something flew outta da fire and hit him in da head, knockin him out. We didn't know if Scout would get out alive, and when da roof collapsed we were sure she was dead. But she wasn't, she was still awake when she got out…but he didn't make it…"
"Who?" I screamed. Skip's face fell as he wiped his nose.
"Crutchy," he whispered. My eyes widened in horror.
"What about Scout?" I asked, letting tears slip down my cheeks.
"She's in da hospital. I ain't been here 'cause Harlem captured me, but I escaped jus' last night and visited Scout in da hospital. She wants ta see ya."
"Does Spot know?" I asked. Skip shook his head. I reached for my crutch, letting more tears fall down my face as I pushed myself off my bed and limped over to the door. Skip followed and we walked into the living room.
Spot looked up from the sofa, and noticed the tears on my face. He immediately got to his feet and stood before me.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"We need to go to Manhattan," I whispered, wiping away my tears.
"What for?" Spot asked, tracing his thumb over my releasing tears to wipe them away.
"Scout's in the hospital…and Crutchy is dead." I then covered my face with my hands and couldn't control my crying. The newsies around us had hurt in their eyes as they glanced at each other. Spot wrapped his arms around me and embraced me tightly.
"Shh," he soothed, "everyhing'll be okay." He then looked up at Skip and wrinkled his eyebrows. "We'll go see Scout. Are ya up to walkin?" I pulled away and nodded.
"Yeah," I said. "I need to see her." Spot nodded and turned to his newsies.
"We is gonna be gone for awhile," he announced. He turned to Skip, "Youse comin too?" Skip nodded as Spot led me out the door. I limped as I struggled through the streets, trying my best to hold back my tears.
Spot kept at my side, helping me whenever he could. Skip stood on the other side of me, also helping. I could sense awkwardness between the boys. It was odd. The two boys who cared about me the most, working together for my safety. I guess miracles could happen.
It was painful to walk through the streets, because people kept shoving past us.
"Watch it!" a man pushed me out of his way and Skip caught me before I hit the ground.
"Hey!" Spot yelled. I tried to tell him to forget about it, but he grabbed the man's arm and made him face him. "So dis is how youse treat someone who saved udder people's life? Is it 'cause we are homeless?" the man gave Spot an awkward look. Spot got irritated and punched the man. "Watch where yer goin!" he warned.
It was like that the whole way over the bridge. Sometimes it was Skip who was doing the punching, but mainly it was Spot.
Once we made in to Manhattan I could sense deadness in the air. The loss of a newsy whispered through the wind, causing a depression to settle over the buildings. Everything looked gray and dreary. Things seemed lifeless as we walked to the hospital building.
We entered silently, and I could sense sadness in the air. Skip led us to a bed, and I was immediately at Scout's side. I leaned my crutch against the wall and sat on the side of the wall.
"Sage," Scout said, her voice hoarse. There were dark circles under her eyes which made her look dead.
"Scout," I whispered. She looked behind me at her "cousin" and Skip. Without warning she threw her arms around me and began to cry hysterically. I stiffened at first, but returned her head.
"It's my fault," she said. I caressed her hair.
"No it's not," I told her.
"It should've been me! It should've been me!" I closed my eyes and let my own tears fall. "It was horrible to see him. He was beggin for my help. He had lost his crutch and couldn't walk." She let more tears fall, and I wanted so much for her to be better.
"It's alright, Scout," I said. Scout shook her head and tightened her grip.
"I ran to him; he wouldn't let me carry him. I tried to anyways, and den I noticed that his legs were all burnt up! He was crying, and kept askin for help, beggin for me to get him out. I promised him, I promised him I would! And then the roof collapsed, and I could hear Crutchy screamin. He died! He died right before my eyes! I could have helped him! The fire got him before I did…jus' watchin him burn…I can't get it outta my head!" I cried even more as she explained her experience.
I let her cry into my shirt as Spot and Skip stayed silent. An image of Crutchy burning came into mind, making me cry even more.
We stayed like that for awhile. I didn't know how long it had been, but I listened silently as Scout explained it over and over again, blaming herself. Skip and Spot were talking to each other, and I couldn't find the energy to listen.
Scout had been in a short coma earlier that week, and suffered a mild brain concussion. After Scout fell asleep, the doctor explained that she had been asking for Crutchy, begging to see him. She had said she needed to talk to him. The doctor also explained that that was what brain concussions did to people. Made them forget things at times, but Scout soon remembered everything and went hysterical.
I felt horrible as I watched her sleep, tears rolling down her face whether or not she was awake. I had also learned that the Manhattan newsies were in the orphanage, and Jack had amnesia. He was also in the hospital, and continuously asked the doctor who "the pretty brunette" was. He didn't recognize us, so we didn't bother to visit him
Spot sat beside me on the bed and stared down at his sister.
"It's a tragedy," he said. I turned my head towards him.
"I can't believe this is happening," I said in almost a whisper. Spot nodded and put his arm around me.
"Everything's gonna be okay," he said.
"Not it's not! Scout is having a nervous breakdown, Jack doesn't know who the hell he is, and Crutchy is dead!" I screamed. Spot didn't flinch; he just kept his same unreadable face.
"I know," he said, "but we need ta get past dat. We need ta get back ta Brooklyn."
"No! I'm not leaving Scout!" Spot looked down at his feet.
"I don't want to, either, but we hafta go."
"Don't you get it, Spot? Crutchy is gone! Scout won't ever forgive herself!" Spot shook his head and rose from the bed.
I hadn't seen Spot or Skip for the next few days as I stayed at Scout's side. She would come in and out of comas, hysterically crying. Jack was always coming over, asking what his name was.
Everything was driving me crazy! The doctor tried to help Jack regain his memory, but he just couldn't remember anything.
It was the fourth day, and Spot had been gone since. I sat beside Scout's bed, resting my head in my hand as Jack strolled over.
"Hey," he said, waving and smiling.
"Hey Jack," I mumbled. Jack looked around confusedly.
"Who's Jack?" he asked.
"You are," I sighed. Jack frowned,
"But dat guy over there said my name was Katie" I looked over and saw…Racetrack! He walked over with his hands in his pockets.
"Heya, Katie," he greeted the clueless Jack. Jack grinned,
"Dat's a pretty name, don't ya think?" Race laughed and turned to me.
"How's it goin?" he asked.
"How did you get here?" I asked. "I thought you were in the orphanage."
"We were," Race explained, chewing on the cigar in his mouth. "But Medda got us out so we's is stayin at 'er place." I tried to smile, but couldn't as I looked down at Scout. Race looked down at her as well and frowned.
"She'll be okay," he said. "She can make it through."
"Yeah, well what about 'Katie' over here?" I pointed to Jack.
"Am I pretty?" he asked out of the blue.
"Yeah, yer gorgeous," Race said, laughing.
"Really? Do ya think da brunette would like me?' Race and I looked down at Scout, and then back at 'Katie.' Race smiled evilly.
"Why shouldn't she? She's yer wife." Jack's eyes grew wide.
"I'm married?" he screamed. Race nodded, and I rolled my eyes.
"You're not helping bring back his memory," I said. Race shrugged,
"Oh well, at least I'm havin fun." Race then glanced around the room. "Hey Katie," he said.
"What?" Jack asked.
"See dat guy over there?" Race pointed to a muscular guy sitting in a chair. Jack nodded. "Well, ya see…he gave birth to ya." Jack grinned.
"Dat's my mommy?" Race nodded and we watched Jack run over to the guy and sit in his lap.
"You're going to get him killed!" I told Race. Race shrugged as someone approached us.
"Hey, what's Jack-boy doin over there on dat man's lap…hugging him?" Spot asked. Race and I looked over and burst out laughing. Jack had his arms wrapped around the man's neck, begging him to read him a story.
Spot looked at us oddly. I then remembered he deserted me and glared at him.
"Where did you go?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Brooklyn," he said, walking over to Scout's side. Soon enough Jack came back over.
"Mom is mad at me for some reason," he said. Spot raised his eyebrows. Jack then noticed his and smiled.
"Hey," he said, waving. "Who're you?" Before Race could come up with something stupid, I put my hand over his mouth.
"That's Spot," I said. Jack grinned and petted Spot's head,
"Heya boy," he said. "I'm Katie, and dat's Racetrack, and she's sage, and dat's a cute brunette." He waved to Scout's sleeping form and tried fixing his hair. Spot gave us odd looks as he smacked Jack's hand away.
"What's goin on?" he asked, looking from me to Race.
"Uh…" I said.
"Katie's jus' sayin hi," Race said, grinning. I smacked my forehead and shook my head.
"Spot, can I talk to you." Spot shrugged and followed me as I limped outside.
"Watch them," I told Race, pointing to Jack and Scout.
Spot and I stood outside, neither of us saying anything.
"So, what is it?" Spot asked. I stared down at the ground.
"Spot, when we were in the Lodging House while it was on fire…I about gave up. But then I realized something…I had to tell you before I died…"
"Tell me what?" Spot asked eagerly, getting closer to me.
"My feelings…" Spot raised his eyebrows.
"What're youse talkin 'bout, Matthews?" he whispered.
"Let me show you," I whispered back. I put my hand on the back of Spot's head and pulled him forward into my lips. Spot seemed shock at first, but returned the kiss. We stood there for a minute, enjoying the one thing that explained how much we cared for each other.
As far as I was concerned, this moment would never end.
Next Chapter: Jack gets his memory back, and gets angry at Race for lying to him.
Something intense is going on between Sage and Spot, will they finally admit those three little words…
Author note: It is very hard to write a story when your SISTER is sitting beside you, distracting you! You talk too much Sam! Hehe….LONG LIVE SPOT!