"Blink!" An obviously very excited Boots came racing down the stairs of the lodging house just as Blink was walking in the door. "Hey, Blink! Spot Conlon's been teachin' me how to shoot a slingshot just like him, an' I'm gettin' real good at it! Wanna see?" Those big brown eyes nearly bulged out of that cocoa-colored face, dancing with delight. "Come on, ya wanna see?"

"Not now, Boots." Blink dragged his hat off his head, mopping the sweat from his face with it; it was a bad habit he'd gotten into and couldn't break, and was very slowly ruining his cap. "I'm busy," he mumbled, over his shoulder to the little boy as he went trudging up the stairs. He felt badly for being rude to Boots, but there was a terrible headache tugging at the backs of his eyes, and he didn't want to be around anyone at the moment.

"Oh... Okay, Blink, catch ya later." And Boots stood forlornly on the bottom stair for a few minutes, before the door opened again. His ecstatic voice rang through the whole lodging house. "Skittery! C'mere, I got somethin' to show ya!"

Upstairs in the washroom, Blink pumped water into the free-standing bathtub. He undressed slowly, painstakingly, his body still dragging from the morning's hangover. As he lowered himself into the water, his body reacted to its near-freezing temperature, but his mind didn't seem to care. As he leaned against the cool, chipped porcelain, he tipped his head back and closed his eye, exhaling long and slow like he'd been holding his breath for days.

When he finally opened his eye again, the early-evening light was fading into dusk, and for some reason, ice-cold water was hitting his face. Shaking his head to clear it, he realized he was still in the bathtub, with Racetrack standing over him, splashing him.

"Oh, so you didn't drown or nothin'?" The Irish-Italian's crooked-toothed grin broke out, seeming to take over his whole face like it always did. "Damn, so that means I can't have first crack at your stuff." He pulled a ragged towel from the closet and set it next to the bathtub, shaking his head. "You been in that damn tub for hours, Blink. You never take more than a few minutes. What's goin' on?"

"Nothin'," Blink replied as he got out of the tub and dried off with the pathetic towel. After he pulled on a pair of britches, he rubbed his hands over his face. "Just fell asleep, I guess. Been awful tired lately. Dammit, Race, you got water under my patch." Turning his back to his friend, he took off his eye patch to dry it off.

"Bullshit."

"What, you didn't get water under my patch?"

"No, bullshit that you're tired." Racetrack stared him in the face when he turned back around, causing Blink to avert his gaze and pretend to be interested in what was going on outside the window. "You been all glum an' shit for a couple'a weeks now. It ain't like you, Blink. Somethin' happen with Evie or somethin'?"

Blink sighed, knowing that there was no lying to Racetrack. Racetrack was the ultimate cheater, the perfect liar. You just couldn't pull one over on him, no matter how hard you tried. "Yeah, somethin' happened with Evie or somethin'," he replied finally, "I guess."

"So, what happened?" Race leaned against a sink, crossing his arms over his chest – his listening pose. When Blink just stood there, dumbfounded, he tossed a wet, dirty rag at him. "Come on, spill the beans, Blink."

And so Blink explained the whole situation to Racetrack, from Evie's impending marriage to his encounter with Pulitzer. When he was finished, Racetrack nodded.

"Well, Blink, I don't know if I can tell ya anything you're going to like," he said, clearing his throat and looking down at the floor. "If I were you, I'd just give up. Fightin' against Pulitzer's an uphill battle, an' we're all still exhausted from doing it once. She's movin' on, I guess that means you gotta move on, too."

Blink scratched his head, coughing awkwardly. "Problem is, I don't want to. I mean, I do, I want to bounce back from this like I do everything else, but at the same time I want to hang onto it. I don't want to let go yet."

"I know, pal, but when you're one of us, you can't afford to hang onto things."

Blink shrugged, gathered up his clothes, and went to bed, knowing Racetrack was right.

A/N: Well, I really, really like this chapter. I figured we needed to delve a little more into Blink's reaction to the whole dilemma. There isn't a whole lot to talk about here, I guess, so it looks like you guys are getting off easy with a short author's note. So, um, please R&R, and I hope you liked the chapter! -Layne