was that too long of a wait? Let me know what's a soon update.

Time was the most powerful thing Spot Conlon would ever encounter. While you were having fun, time would rush by and would not consider you in the matter. Spot was not having fun, his arm stung and blood trickled down his bicep. Regardless, that wasn't what worried him. The doctors wouldn't let him see Violet because he wasn't family and they didn't let him move in case the wound on his arm opened even more. He had probably lost more blood in the past month than in his entire life.

The hospital room smelled liked alcohol but not the good kind. Coughing and groans came from outside the three curtains that separated him from the rest of the world. He lightly banged his head against the starched wall behind him. He didn't dare close his eyes, the memories would start to roll around in his mind. Spot wondered were all the rarity in his life had started. Was it when he met Violet? If she hadn't showed up that night in the alley he wouldn't find himself in a medical room waiting for morphine and a new gauze. If she had finished cleaning out the pantry sooner she wouldn't have been attacked in the alley. If Spot had known better, he wouldn't have beat Harlem's crime ring leader at poker. If, If, If everything was an if.

His maddening thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the curtain rings being pulled.

"Mr. Conlon. This is your second dose-"

Spot stopped the lady, "How much is this going to cost?"

The woman looked at her clipboard "Well according to the information you have filled out here- the church will pay for everything you need since you are an orphan and under eighteen. You don't have anything to worry about."

Yeah right.

The nurse took a syringe from her pocket and set it on the silver cart at the edge of his bed. She pulled out a cup with white marks on it, poured some water, and then opened the pack of morphine before sucking the milky liquid up into the needle.

"All right. Mr. Conlon, I am going to have to ask you to move as little as possible. The muscle on your arm is going to be tender from the wound so this is going to hurt a little bit more than usual."

Spot shifted from his position and straightened. He rolled up his sleeve even more than it was and waited.

The nurse without a name frowned when she saw his arm. "When was the last time your gauze was changed?"

Spot took a moment to think " I don't know, last night when we got here"

Her frown deepened. "Of course." She walked away and set the needle down.

"Don't move. I'll be right back."

Spot wasn't planning on going anywhere.

The white gauze was overrun by a scarlet stain and some rolled down his arm.

His shirt was ruined. Too bad, it was his favorite.

The same sound that distracted him the first time returned.

"I'll have to apologize Mr. Conlon. We had a patient in critical care and you were overlooked."

Spot furrowed his brow and fixed his shirt again. "Was it the girl that came in with me?"

The nurse set her face into stone "Mr. Conlon, that information is confidential. "

"She's my girl. I need to know how she is."

"Until her family arrives and gives us permission to disclose that information with you. There is nothing I can tell you."

He 'd heard that already but the same cannon ball of worry still dropped in his stomach.

"Yeah, Yeah but is she all right?"

The nurse tapped her foot impatiently. "Mr. Conlon, that information is against protocol."

"Look lady, I'm not going to let you poke me with that thing until you tell me-"

"No need todistraught Mr. Conlon. The girls fine."

"Dr. Willard! We cannot disclose that information!"

"Calm down Ms. Joyce. Not everything we do has to be by the book"

Spot let a smug smirk take over his face before speaking to the Doctor.

"How's her leg?"

Dr. Willard poured the clear liquid that was on

the silver cart into a cloth before walking over to him.

"Well since the bullet ripped through the tendons instead of lodging itself. We didn't have to waste time trying to take it out, we stitched her up before she lost anymore blood. She'll be on crutches for a while but I think she'll be fine . You can go see her after this is done."

Spot could have flown from satisfaction.

Ms. Joyce nearly died "Dr. Willard! He can't do that!"

"Yes he can. I just said he could. Mr. Conlon won't be able to concentrate on healing if he's worried."

Ms. Joyce scoffed but didn't say anything else.

"Let's look at what we have here" The blond doctor undid the gauze he had and shook his head.

"Did Mary tend to him?"

"Who else would?" Ms. Joyce rhetorically asked before taking a new gauze out.

"Well she at least didn't leave any of the shavings behind." The doctor grabbed the cloth he had set down and started to wipe at the edge of the wound he wiped away the rest of the blood before getting another cloth and pressing it against the wound.

Spot cursed and stopped himself from punching the doctor.

He watched Ms. Joyce and Dr. Willard disinfect his arm and put a white paste on it before wrapping it in a bigger bandage than before. Ms. Joyce found a vein and injected the morphine.

When they finished, they made him take off his ripped and stained shirt and left him in his white undershirt.

"You can come with me Mr. Conlon."

Spot was starting to like how his last name sounded with Mr. in front of it.

Dr. Willard led him past the curtains and beyond the front desk.

There was an ugly green hallway lined with doors. Nurses and doctors came and went from most. A rotten smell wafted through the air and made Spot hold a hand over his nose.

"Amputation. The leg was green with infection"

The Doctor pointed to a room where the door was slightly cracked opened. Spot could see the shape of man in the bed while a nurse picked up a basin.

"Here we are. I'll fetch you before lunch gets served."

The Doctor opened the door and let Spot in. He shut it before he had a chance to say anything.

The room was poorly light, a dim lightbulb hung from the ceiling. There was a small window but a dirty curtain didn't let the sunlight stream in. Spot found a small stool and dragged it over to the top of the bed. Curse his parent's height.

So far, Spot had avoided looking at Violet but now it was inevitable. The sunlight had woken her up.

"Put that away," She murmured, slapping her hand over her eyes.

"No. I can't see otherwise."

"Spot?" Violet raised herself on her elbows.

"Who else?" Spot snapped. Now that he knew she was fine, it was time for him to berate her on her poor life choices.

"You sound mad" Violet laid back and pulled the covers over her head.

"I am. You didn't almost kill yourself but you got me shot."

"What?!" She uncovered her head.

Spot pointed at his left arm. "This! How am I supposed to sell papers" He directed his judging index finger to her leg "And how are you supposed to walk!"

"Oh that. Sorry"

"Sorry. Is that all you have to say for yourself? What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking-I- My grandpa told me that a revolver could only hold six bullets. I was sure he wouldn't shoot me because he wouldn't put in all that effort to find me and then kill me"

Spot huffed "I had a plan, you know? Why didn't you trust me?"

Violet paused to shift her position. She was stalling.

"Well, I did but that last thing he said terrorized me and you're idea seemed outlandish-"

"And yours wasn't?"

Violet sighed "I had control by following my own plan but it failed. You weren't supposed to get shot."

"Were you?" Spot put his hands on his hips.

"I was hoping he would graze me or something. I didn't think he would actually shoot me."

Spot shook his head. "Does it hurt?"

"No. They come in and inject Morphine every hour."

Spot's eyes widened "How big is the dose?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe the full syringe"

"That's-They- You're going to become an addict if that keeps up."

"No I'm not. They also give me some Heroin."

Spot rolled his eyes "You can also become addicted to that Violet."

"No you can't. They put it in baby medicine"

"Violet, trust me. You can become addicted to Heroin"

"How do you know?"

"My friend Ricky breaks into pharmacy's and steals baby cough drops so he can get high underneath my bridge" Spot smirked and waited for a response.

Violet frowned but she refused to be beaten "What are you doing hanging out with criminals?"

"What are you doing taking drugs?"

"The Doctor gave it to me while I was passed out. You can't blame me for what happens when I'm passed out"

"Oh yes I can. While you collapsed on the ground, I had to fight a psycho to let me take you to the hospital"

Violet furrowed her brow "You did what?"

"That maniac wouldn't let me take you to the hospital. When I tried to pick you up he shot me"

Spot patted his pockets looking for a cigar but found none. Jack had made sure he didn't even see someone else smoke one.

"What happened next?"

"Well you know how there is a serial killer going around?" Violet nodded her head "Some cops were a couple of blocks over patrolling and came running when they heard the shots. The guy ran off and they gave us a wagon ride here"

"Really? I'm glad I passed out. I don't know how I would have handled that"

"It was probably for the best. You'd be crying the whole time"

"I would not!" Violet protested.

Spot chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. Right next to Violet's hand, he was getting tired of standing up.

"Yes you would. You'd be in pain. Violet you got shot"

"Shut up"

Violet sighed and took his hand.

"My Aunt's going to kill me"

Spot opened his mouth to answer but someone beat him to the punch.

"You can have no doubt about that"

Spot's head reeled to the door.

A woman stood in the doorway, a boy and a small girl were holding her hands.

There was only one possible answer.

Violet was so dead.