Author note: I'm going to be honest with you; I really don't want to write this one. I don't know of, I just don't feel like it…but I'm going to anyways, because that's what every good author does. Thanks for the reviews. I really enjoy hearing from you guys!

I stared up at Spot and traced my thumb over another tear.

"You shouldn't have done that," I told him. "I would've been okay…"

"No, youse would've been dead," Spot said, holding onto me tighter. "Don't leave me," he whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere, Spot…I promise."

The next morning I awoke silently. Not with a jolt or in a sweat…I just awoke.

I blinked my eyes and adjusted them to the light. I yawned slightly and looked over my shoulder at Spot. His eyes were shut tightly, and he was breathing rapidly.

Audience P.O.V

Spot ran through the foggy streets of Brooklyn again. His heart was beating faster and faster each second he got closer.

The buildings on either side of him were squished together, which meant no alleyways. His feet made loud noises on the ground as he tried to speed his pace, but nothing happened.

The warehouse came into view, and Spot's heart leapt into his throat. He reached his hand out to the doorknob, and unlike the other times, his hand grasped around the doorknob.

Spot stopped in his tracks, surprised that he actually reached it…he was destined to get here, so what happens now? Spot licked at his lips and twisted the doorknob – it was locked.

Spot growled and stepped back. He kicked his foot fiercely at the door. He had to get in, but he didn't know exactly why.

On the third kick the door busted open and Spot hesitantly walked in. The warehouse was dark and silent, except the sound of somebody – a girl – crying.

Spot's eyes then looked to the center of the room where there was little light provided. A girl sat on her knees, and her head hung low and was crying. Her whole body was trembling, and Spot then recognized who it was.

"Sage," he said, stepping closer. Spot stopped in his tracks when he saw a figure at her side. Out of the shadows came forth a man, who looked an awful lot like Sage's uncle. He had a firm grip on the pistol at her temple.

"Step closer and she dies," he said in a deadly yet calm voice. Spot stepped back once, but he didn't want to leave Sage. Spot's eyes traveled down to Sage's fingers, which were entwined together nervously. A wedding ring stood out on her left hand…

"Let 'er go," Spot said; more liked pleaded.

"Just go, Spot," Sage said through sobs. "Just go." Spot shook his head,

"I won't leave youse…not again." Spot gulped, "Not ever again." What did that mean? He wasn't saying these words, they just came out.

"Spot…please," Sage pleaded. "I can't lose you."

"That's enough," the man said. Spot then noticed, this was her uncle…the man who caused her more pain than anything.

"Don't shoot 'er!" Spot's voice echoed off the walls. "If youse is gonna shoot someone, shoot me!"

"No!" Sage protested. Her uncle glared at Spot, and cocked the trigger. Spot's eyes grew wide in horror as he leapt forward, but it was too late. The bullet went through her head, and her body fell to the floor lifeless.

Spot fell face first off the bed, and landed with a loud "thud!"

Normal P.O.V

"Oh my God!" I said as I jumped out of the chair in the corner and ran over to Spot. "Spot, are you okay?"

"Owe," Spot said, rubbing his head. I then burst out laughing. I couldn't help it; it was hilarious.

"Are you alright?" I asked again. I helped Spot to his feet, and kept on laughing.

"Stop laughing," Spot said. His eyes then softened and he laughed along with me.

"Get cleaned up," I said. I was already washed up and dressed. Spot smiled and nodded, gathering his belongings.

"Don't go anywhere, Sage," he said. I blinked a few times as Spot headed off to the washroom. I shrugged off my confusion and walked downstairs and into the living room.

"Good morning, Spark," I said as I sat beside Spot's second-in-command. I had just recently learned that Spark was Spot's right hand man.

"Mornin," Spark said. I then began to think. If Scout could have a "right-hand-woman" then why can't I? I still laughed when I remembered that.

"So Scout, who's your second-in-command?" I had asked her.

"Only the best," she responded. "Me and Jack had ta fight for them."

"So then who is it?"

"My right hand woman is…Racetrack!"

I burst out laughing, remembering the look on Race's face when Scout said that. It was true, Race was her second-in-command. Spark gave me an odd look but merely smiled. I wanted a second-in-command, and I had someone in mind.

"Hey Poet," I greeted my friend as I plopped down in the chair beside her.

"Hey," she said, scribbling down on a piece of paper. Hart sat on the other side of her, looking over her shoulder.

"Don't you ever give up?" I asked Hart.

"No, he doesn't…and I'm gettin ready ta soak 'im if he don't get lost!" Poet said. I laughed as Hart pouted.

"So Poet, I was just wondering…how would you feel about being second-in-command for the girls?" I bit the bottom of my lip, praying that she'd say yes.

"Sure," she said with a slight shrug. I grinned as I saw Spot walk into the room.

"Come on, Sage," he said, motioning me to follow him. I said goodbye to Poet and Hart and walked up to Spot.

"Are you selling?" I asked with a grin. Spot was a bit surprised to see that I was happy, but he soon shook that feeling off.

"Yeah," he said while pulling his hat onto his head. "And youse is sellin with me." I tilted my head,

"Why?" I asked as I followed him out the door.

"Sage, I ain't gonna let dem bums kidnap ya again," Spot said as I linked my arm with his. I shrugged as Spot bought his papes and I followed Spot to his selling place.

I sighed and sat on the edge of the sidewalk and watched as people past by us. A few people hurried over to Spot and bought papes, and then left. Spot kept a close eye on me. He was actually starting to aggravate me, but he only cares.

"Are you done yet?" I asked as I rested my elbow on my knee and my head in my head. I held a pebble in my other hand and threw it out into the street.

"Not very patient, are we?" Spot asked.

"No," I said truthfully. Spot laughed and watched as a man approached him.

"'Mornin," he said, tipping his hat. A grin spread across Spot's face.

"Hey Ned," he greeted the man. The man known as Ned smiled.

"Ah, you remember me," he said.

"'Course I remember youse. Ya helped save my best friend – uh, my goil." I perked up when I heard Spot mention me. Or at least I hope it was me he was talking about. Ned looked back at me with a kind smile.

"Is this her?" he asked. Spot nodded,

"Da one and only." I got to my feet and shook hands with Ned.

"Nice to meet you, Sage. I am Ned Diggins." I smiled sweetly,

"It's nice to meet you, too."

"So, what brings ya to New York?" Spot asked.

"Ah, business with Theodore," Ned said. I cocked an eyebrow.

"Dr. Grey," Spot answered my confusion. I nodded.

"Well, it's nice to see that you are well. The both of you," Ned said.

"Youse too," Spot said, shaking hands with Ned. Ned bought a paper and said farewell.

"He seems nice," I said, watching him leave.

"Yeah," Spot said. He tossed the rest of his papes into an alleyway, and I followed him to the restaurant.

I was still worrying about the war, and I wanted so badly to tell Spot not to go, but I didn't want to make him mad.

Spot and I sat down at our table and waited for a waiter. I wanted to tell Spot about my upcoming birthday…which so happened to be tomorrow, the first of July. I still haven't told Spot, and the only person who knew was Scout.

"Youse okay?" Spot asked from the other side of the table.

"Yeah," I lied. The truth was, I was worrying to death about the war, and I was killing myself about not telling Spot about my eighteenth birthday.

A waiter came over and took our orders. We told him what he wanted and then he left.

"Spot, when's your birthday?" I asked.

"August first," Spot said. "How 'bout youse?" I bit my lip and laughed slightly.

"Uh, it's July first…" Spot furrowed his eyebrows and squinted.

"July first? Youse mean…tomorrow?" he asked. I looked around nervously,

"Yeah," I said. Spot sighed,

"Why didn't youse tell me?" he asked.

"Because you're already stressed about the war," I said. Spot placed his hand over mine,

"I ain't worried 'bout da war right now, Sage," he said. "All dat matters is dat youse is safe."

Later on that day Spot and I taught Poet the ropes about being a right hand woman. She seemed to catch on fast, and held the same hatred for Racer.

Spot disappeared for awhile, and gave Spark strict orders to watch over me.

I looked over Spark's shoulder at the set of cards in his hands. I didn't know what was what, but it was still fun to guess.

"Who's winning?" I asked.

"Dice," Spark said, throwing a piece of bread at Dice. Everyone laughed as the front door opened, and in walked a few of my girls.

"Hey Sage," Butterfly greeted me. I said hello to my girls, and announced that I was going to sleep. Spark shrugged,

"If Spot asks-"

"You watched over me," I finished for him as I left for the washroom. After washing up I cautiously entered Spot's room and crawled in his bed.

It felt empty not having him beside me, but I knew he'd be home soon. The thought of Spot cheating on me came to mind, but I merely pushed it away.

I listened as raindrops began to beat on the window, and I shivered beneath the blanket. I then heard the door open, and I felt somebody crawl into the empty space beside me. I tensed up.

"It's okay," Spot whispered in my ear. "Its jus' me." I smiled to my self and turned over so that I was facing him. He smelt of toothpaste and soap, and I scooted closer to him.

"Don't fight with Harlem," I whispered to him as I closed my eyes.

"I don't have a choice, Sage. I hafta."

"But what if something happens to you?" I inquired.

"I won't let it," Spot whispered. I sighed and drifted off into sleep, not ready for my upcoming birthday.

Next Chapter: Some of the Manhattan newsies come over to celebrate Sage's birthday. Sage doesn't want the party…something is wrong.

Spot doesn't understand why Sage is acting so odd…what's wrong with turning 18? He's 18…Is something going to happen to her?

Author note: This chapter is lacking suspense, but that's only because I don't feel like writing. LONG LIVE SPOT AND SAGE!