I wanted to go back. Hoping that... I didn't know what I was hoping for. In some deranged level I knew that his death was probably the best outcome. It was cruel to think of it like that but if everyone he loved was gone what did it matter?

"Where did you get the gun?" I rubbed my arms and looked around the overcast room.

"The other guy had it on him."

"I didn't see it on him."

Spots hands went over my shoulders. "He took it out after you left."

His breath was on my ear.

"Spot what are we going to do? What if someone saw us? What about the other guy?" I turned around to face him,

"Don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

Spot kept rubbing my shoulders.

"How? How exactly would you handle it Spot? Who were those people? Why were you even there?"

He sighed and let my shoulders go.

"They're nobodies. Don't worry about it."

"That's not what you told me while we were in that room. You said you would tell me."

"Don't start. All right? I'm not in the mood to amuse you."

I scoffed and watched Spot walk away towards the rooms window.

I rubbed my forehead and shook my head.

"Look, I know its been a long night but I would like some answers. I just want to understand what just happened and this...this is not helping."

Spot tilted his body in my direction. "What happened is that you met some unfortunate circumstances and then a bit later I got involved. Some friends of mine were trying to shoot two birds with one stone and they missed. Can we just leave it at that?"

I limped closer but kept a safe distance between us.

"You might be able to that because you know what happened. I told you what happened to me and what the man you shot said. I would like it if you would bother to do the same."

Spot turned and let his eyes wonder from the top of my head to the bottom of feet.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a waif?"

I rolled my eyes. "That would be because I am one. Now please Spot will you just tell me the truth?"

"There is nothing to tell. Your friend hired them to go after you and I just happened to know them. I thought they might be after me but it was a just a business deal."

I narrowed my eyes. His hand was on his cane, something wasn't right.

At this point, he didn't look so provoked. I felt like I could approach him.

Slowly, I walked closer, making sure to watch for any change in temperament.

His demeanor gave me the confidence to grab his shirt, grip and pull it tenderly. I looked strictly at his eyes.

"Is that the entire truth?"

"Every single bit of it."

It took me a long time to make sense of that night. The papers gave his death a small box under all the other obituaries. He was a big toymaker, he made wooden figurines for rich kids.

Prospect Park had become a common dwelling for me. At first I just walked to clear my head but now I just sat and observed people. After a lot of wandering and begging I found a job in a flower shop. It was run by an old lady who needed something to do in her free time. I'm pretty sure my decimated form compelled her.

I told Aunt Rita that I was leaving to make something of myself; it was just to get out of her hair. After a particularly harsh winter, she decided to move south with my grandparents and help out in the farm, I was invited.

Of course I could never leave. How could I? Spot was here. The idea of Spot and Violet being replaced by Us made me feel thrilled and frightened all at the same time. It's not that I loved Spot any less, if anything I loved him more, but being forced to be together willingly made me realize that I had truly grown up and that I would continue to age until my last breath.

Regardless of my fears, I didn't hesitate or run away the second time he asked. I was unwarily ready.

The creaking of the bench distracted me.

"I will never understand your obsession with over-thinking."

"How did you know I was thinking?"

Spot put his arm on the back of the bench and spread it out.

"What else would you be doing?" He asked and took another drag of his cigar.

"Well I don't understand why you smoke so much."

"I'm telling you. Once you try it, you'll love it."

"I'm tired of always bickering over Tabaco." I scooched over and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Let's go home before its dark out."

I looked up at him and smirked.

"Scared of the dark or something?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

I scoffed. "We all fear something."

"Not me. I'm the King of Brooklyn."

"There must be something you're scared of." I said but stood and held out my arm for him to take.

He smiled at my hand before he took it and pulled himself up.

"Maybe but if I tell you you'll get a big head."

"Me? Never. I'm the humble one.

We started walking down the dirt road; our hands swinging together.

Spot shook his head playfully. "I don't know why I'm telling you this...you'll probably use it against me."

"I swear not to."

It was a sincere promise.

"Fine."

He blew out some air rather loudly and stopped walking. He turned and looked straight into my eyes. Never letting go of my hand.

"My biggest fear is losing you."

I bit back my smile

"Good."

"How on earth is that good?"

"Well now we can work together." I said. Finally letting myself smile as widely as I wanted to.

"On what? Keeping you alive?"

"And you. My biggest fear is waking up to never see you again."

Spot stepped closer to me.

"Really?"

"Undoubtedly." I smoothed out the invisible wrinkles on his blue work shirt.

"Good then."

"Good Indeed."

Finally.

After three long years, two rewrites, a lot of self-doubt and hesitation its over! I can go to bed without feeling guilt!

I hope you enjoyed my random deliriums.

BTW- Thanks to all those wonderful reviewers who made me feel obligated to bring this to and end.