Title: Secrets Behind the Lies
Author: Stress
First written: June 27, 2002- March 19, 2004
Edited and replaced: May 16, 2006
Summary: Part II of the Soul Mates Series; After living in Manhattan for two years, Stress thought she knew everything about Jack Kelly or, should we say Francis Sullivan? Well, guess not.
Author's Note: I can not believe this. After beginning this in 2002, and supposedly completing this in 2004, turns out I never posted the last chapter – the epilogue. I wrote this thing back in March of 2004 and just never put it up. And I never caught onto it. Just so you all know, I feel like the world's biggest idiot. So, if there is anyone out there who actually read this, I'm sorry. It may be 2 years later, but now SBtL is really finished.
--
Epilogue
Bright and early on the appointed morning, only three days since he and Spindle had set their plan, Rip was surrounded by eight people, all carrying small sacks and bags and ready to go. Wait -- eight people? There was supposed to be nine. Who wasn't there?
Danger.
At the exact moment when he realized that they were one shy, Spindle came to the front of the group, he vivid green eyes livid. "He ain't here." There was no need for her to acknowledge who the "he" was -- they all knew.
Which also meant that Rip was expecting this. "Don't worry, my love. He can't have gone very far. And, no matter where he has gone, I'm sure one of my friends will welcome him. And I have many friends who would love to say hello to someone who has left without my leave."
As the others began to worry for Danger, and also wonder why they themselves were following this unstable teen, Spindle took Rip by the arm and steered him away. "I don't get it, Rip. If you have all of these contacts who will be out looking for Danger now, why haven't we gotten one of them to take out our little problem in Manhattan?"
The cocky smile he normally wore slid off of his handsome face as he brought up his hand to meet Spindle's cheek. "I make the plans around here, Spindle. And this one I want to take care of personally. Understand?"
Spindle winced from the pain as she willed herself not to retaliate. She should have known better. "I understand."
And if the others had any doubts as to why there were doing Rip's bidding, the doubts were assuaged as they watched the tough newsgirl being brought down to her knees -- and they were afraid.
Rip looked at the fear openly displayed on all of their faces and grinned. If only his li'l miss could see him now – she didn't know what fear was. "But she will, she will. I will see you soon, my love."
- - -
At that very moment, as the lot from Queens were just setting out, Mrs. Cook, entirely unaware of the previous day's occurence, woke up the Bottle Alley girls bright and early, just as she had done the morning before. And, like the morning before, all of the girls put up a resistance to it, if only to catch a few more minutes of sleep before going out to sell newspapers.
That is, to say, all of the girls save for two. Both Stress and Gip had already washed up and left for their day's work.
When the other girls arrived at the distribution center later that morning, they were surprised to see a solemn looking Gip standing side by side with Stress, trying hard not to let the tears in her dark blue eyes fall.
Mockin' Boid, with a sense of motherly compassion, began to walk towards Gip but stopped when Stress caught her eye and shook her head. MB understood -- Gip, for some reason, needed to be alone.
Quickly MB caught the arms of the other girls and indicated that they should give Gip her time and room to breathe. She would tell them what was wrong when she was ready.
But Quirky couldn't help but ask aloud, "What's wrong?"
"Hey girls. Ready to sell papes?"
Tearing their eyes away from where Gip and Stress stood on the side, the majority of the girls turned to face Racetrack, Blink and Jake who had just approached them, armfuls of papers slung on their shoulders.
Bookie nodded, accepting newspapers from Racetrack as MB, Moth and the others all approached the line to buy their own papers, silently nodding their greetings to Stress and Gip, "Yeah, Race. We was just wondering what was wrong with those two."
Race flicked his cigar and, as he watched his ashes fall to the dirt, he had a sad look in his eye. "Turns out King up and left Manhattan this morning. Went back home to Connecticut and everything."
Quirky gasped, but Martini was still puzzled. "Wow, that's sad and all -- I mean, King was the best leader Manhattan has ever had -- but why does our Gip look like she's holding back tears?"
Blink, who also looked pained though his normal grin seemed to deny it, nodded towards Gip. "It also turns out that he and Gip were together. Together for quite some time, too. Hard to believe our little Gypsy had a heart, eh?"
As Martini and Bookie stood around shocked, surprised that that fact had been hidden from them for so long, Quirky took a step toward Gip, but stopped when Jake put out his hand. "No, wait," he said under his breath as pointed slightly in Gip's direction.
For, at that moment, the teetering tears began to dribble slowly down Gip's face.
Quirky and the others may not have approached her, but Stress was still by her side. Putting away her own confusion and relief, Stress had accompanied Gip to say her final goodbyes to King as he set off for Connecticut. Of course she had let them say their own private goodbyes once more while she waited a block away so she had no idea what to say to counter King's parting words. Instead, she just put a comforting arm around Gip as she watched her tears fall.
Gip, uncharacteristically, did not shake the arm off. Instead, in a deep throated whisper, filled with sorrow, she said, "It's all over, Stress. This is the end."
Stress began to nod in reassurance but stopped when her eyes fell on Jack, sitting on the side of the distribution center, waiting for her to come talk to him or for himself to get up enough courage to approach her. Trying hard to ignore the butterflies in her stomach and fighting (and failing) to keep a smile from coming to her face, Stress replied, "No, it's not, Gip. It's not the end, it's only the beginning."