Chapter 9: Worry

A/N: A sort of slow chapter but very vital in the developing of both Nancy's character and her and Bill's relationship. R&R. :-)

Warning: Contains slightly disturbing imagery (Nancy imagining Bill's housebreaking gone wrong) and a severely worried little girl.

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It was cold and raining outside by the time enough of the other boys had stirred enough to warrant Nancy's getting up. Bill was not amongst the children scrambling about the flat in an attempt to dress and eat before they had to be out for the day. He would be spending the day in with Fagin in preparation for the endeavor he meant to take on that evening. Nancy was the only one that knew the truth, the rest were all under the impression that Bill was not feeling well. Fortunately for Nancy, James had inquired as to Bill's state which had saved her the act. Quietly she finished off their pitiful excuse for breakfast and drew her tattered shawl tight around her shoulders.

A macabre sense of dread washed over Nancy like the rain pelting her frail frame the minute she exited the flat. Somehow, she knew, she must keep her head for the day. If she didn't, she'd be caught and in the clink which would be of no help to anyone. No, she decided, there was no use in worrying over what couldn't be helped. Quietly she wandered towards London, whistling to try and cheer herself up. Nancy was on her own this morning, Ace hadn't even been fully awake when she'd slipped into the chilly London air. As she exited the sewers and came into town she noticed the sun just beginning to put light into the sky. Way early, she thought as she walked along. Finding herself entirely too alone in the London streets unnerved the young girl. There were no toffs to rob, no goods to steal. With the lack of that much counted on distraction, Nancy's mind was instantly back on the idea of Bill.

Her mind's eye painted for her visions of a mansion, looming massively in a starlit night. She saw Bill, dressed in black step in the front door as if he owned the place. Nancy pictured something going horribly wrong after that, a dog barking perhaps, or the owners waking up, lights turning on. Then the traps were there, hauling him off like some hardened criminal. Then they were building the gallows, slipping the rope around his large neck. His eyes were wide as the executioner went to pull the lever. The platform dropped and...

"Watch where you're walking wretch!" Nancy's legs stumbled and her entire body slammed down against the cold wet concrete. The carriage that had nearly run her over was now disappearing around the corner. Nancy climbed to her feet unsteadily and winced as she felt a hot sticky liquid run down her leg. Carefully she stepped out of the street and examined her wound. Her stockings were sporting a fresh hole and blood was oozing from the scrapes on her knees. Finding it to be nothing too hard to live with, she wandered on, enjoying the warmth of her own blood as a wonderful contrast to the icy rain now pelting her skin.

Nancy looked around her and realized she was nowhere near where she had entered the London streets that morning. She was on the better side of London, where posh business men received kisses from their wives before climbing in a carriage under umbrella cover and driving off for the day. Nancy gazed at the houses, every one as large and intimidating as her imagination had managed to conceive them. Silently she wondered which of these men left their doors open at night, she took a sickening notice of the homes with dogs. She looked about her with nothing more then curiosity as to which Bill would be so brave as to break into....and maybe get caught...and then they would build the gallows...

Violently, Nancy shook her head and turned her back on the homes. This isn't helping you no how, she scolded herself silently. With slow determined steps the young girl walked back towards the busier portion of London, full of people ripe for the picking. The icy rain that stung at her small face seemed to help clear her head as her thoughts turned to focus once again on the job at hand.

When Nancy emerged into London's crowded streets she could instantly tell how long she'd been gone. Children were hurrying home from school for their lunch hour and shop vendors were everywhere she could see. It amazed her that even in the nearly constant downpour raging outside, the streets were as busy as ever. Shoving all thoughts of the perilous evening ahead to the back burner, Nancy gained a smile on her face as she moved towards a man with his handkerchief hanging out of his pocket.

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It had just stopped raining when she entered the flat that evening. She opened the door, rain water dripping heavily from her multitude of skirts. The blood that had been oozing from her knee had finally ceased and the rain had once again proved it's usefulness by washing the cut clean. As she walked up the stairs under the tattered remains of England's flag, she was shocked to find most of the boys in various stages of undress. Shirts, socks, even trousers hung before the fireplace to dry and the boys sat about wrapped in their tattered blankets for warmth. The only boy not undressed was Bill, who was clothed in the darkest garments he owned. Seeing him that way made Nancy's stomach turn itself inside out and she looked away from him to avoid her sudden nausea.

"Nancy m'dear, you were out late." She simply nodded in response to Fagin's exclamations and hauled her wares out of her pockets, watching as the old man's eyes glistened with greed. It was more then she usually brought back, because she had been out late, enjoying how pick pocketing distracted her from her worries. "Excellent my dear, excellent!" Fagin crowed with glee. Nancy nodded numbly and slipped out of her heavy red dress before wrapping a blanket around her shivering form. All she had left on was her thin white under-dress. A few of the boys snickered at her boldness but she payed them no mind. Keeping the blanket tight around her she sat down to her place at the table.

Nancy's stomach felt so tight she wondered is she could down the food Fagin had laid out before them. Fighting the wave of nausea that was continually assaulting her thin stomach, she began to eat. She found only the strength to down a few of the sausages that tasted like ash in her bone dry mouth. Finally, with a miserable sigh, she pushed the suddenly revolting plate away and resisted the urge to empty the contents of her stomach as she got up. She knew the sudden sickness had nothing to do with the usual meals they were forced to stomach, but rather the idea of events she knew would take place very soon.

Fagin took notice of the odd habits of his youngest charge and slinked towards where her tiny form was huddled in a back corner of the room. Gently, the old man knelt down next to the trembling girl. Nancy lifted her face to look at him and Fagin was startled by her color, or lack thereof.

"Are you ill my dear?" he asked resting one of his grubby hands on her forehead. Nancy nodded her head twice in a very firm manner.

"Yes," she croaked. The words were true, poor Nancy was positively sick with worry.

"Is it your stomach m'dear?" She shook her head no feverently and fought against the tears stinging her eyes. Moaning, she rested her head against the wall of the flat, it's cool surface helping to relieve the harsh heat causing beads of sweat to spring up unexplainable on her pale face. "Are you hot my dear?" Fagin asked, his face contorting in confusion. Nancy pouted and shook her head no weakly. She was so conflicted on what to do....but suddenly she didn't care if she was supposed to know or not, Fagin wouldn't leave her be until she told him what was wrong.

"Worried," she mumbled. The words were painful, cracking violently against her throat like sandpaper.

"Worried?"

"I know about Bill," she whispered. Acknowledging the whole ordeal aloud was making her feel worse. Fagin's face lit up with understanding and he smiled kindly at the tortured form before him.

"Now listen to me," he said gently. "Bill's a good lad, clever lad. He'll be fine, no need to fret." Nancy nodded weakly but the old miser's words were of no comfort to her. "You'll see my dear," he added with a smile.

Nancy sat there in silence after the old man left her. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she'd spoken with him. Minutes? Hours? Time seemed irrelevant as she fought not to fall apart at the seams. The only thing to finally pull her from her tortured reverie was the sound of Johnny's confused voice.

"Where you 'eaded Bill?"

"The Cripples," he grumbled. His tone was enough that Johnny didn't question it further but Bill's words had really done it. Her head was swimming now, her stomach aching, every muscle in her body throbbed begging her to leap into action. She knew where Bill was headed, and she knew it was nowhere near the cripples. Finally, as if just then finding her strength, Nancy leaped to her feet and chased after Bill. Her bare feet pounded the wood on the steps and her tiny hands yanked back the latch on the door as she followed him into the night.

"Bill!" she cried. He stopped and turned, less then a few feet from her on the bridge. Nancy couldn't help herself and, not entirely sure of what was possessing her, she ran to him and engulfed what little bit of him she was tall enough to reach in a hug. Bill looked startled and pushed her away from him, but not in an unkind manner. He looked down only to meet her gaze as it bored up at him, searing into his very soul. Tears rimmed the amazing little blue eyes that were locked on him now. "I know where you're headed," she continued. Nancy was really battling tears now as she struggled to continue. "Please be careful." Touched by the compassion radiating from the young girl, Bill squatted down and placed both hands on her shoulders, which demanded she look him in the eye.

"Listen 'ere little one," he said with a painfully fake smile. "I don't want you to worry nothin' 'bout me, alrigh'? This was gonna 'appen no matter wot, Fagin jus' needs me to do a bit more ter earn my keep. Don' you go blamin' yerself for this, an' don' you go worryin' 'bout me neither, you 'ear?" Nancy nodded up at him dumbly and Bill smiled before giving her hair a playful ruffle. Then without another word he stood up and disappeared into the night. She watched him go until his burly silhouette was no longer visible against the darkened sky and then she turned and went back inside. Instead of reassuring her Bill had made the anxiousness bubbling inside her twice as bad. He may have been wearing a brave face, but somewhere in those piercing eyes Nancy could see...he was just as scared for him as she was.