Chapter 17: Sick

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   Bones hadn't been feeling too well after she'd gotten back from seeing Spot, but she figured she just needed some sleep. When she woke up, she was dizzy, but otherwise, she felt fine. Almost. Jack could sense that something was wrong, and he put the back of his hand to her forehead and cheeks, checking for a fever. And a fever she had. Her head was so warm, she must have been sick for a few days. "Bones!" he scolded. "What?" she coughed out; her voice had started to become raspy, as well. "You didn't tell me ya weren't feelin' well." He looked at her in discontent. "I feel fine." She sat up, but knew it was a mistake. She was so dizzy, she nearly fell back down, but she'd have to be alright, she had to sell newspapers so she could make money, she literally couldn't afford to be sick. "No, ya're not goin' out tu-day, ya're sick. Race, make sure she don't move." Bones rolled her eyes, but immediately, her head started to hurt. Jack raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "I told you so," and she was eventually left alone with Race. She sat up again, and started to move, but Race sat on her legs, his crossed Indian-style. She glared at him, and let out an annoyed snort. "Really?" She sounded mirthless, and Race just applauded himself.  She sunk back down on her back, and looked up at the ceiling. And that's how they stayed most of the day. At one point, Race went to find a damp cloth, but he tucked a blanket around her real tight, and carried her cane with him so she wouldn't move, but he came back, and sat in the exact same position on top of her for the rest of the day.
   "Race, what're ya doin'? Don' hoit her!" Race must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to Jack's voice. "Huh? Oh, I'm not, I promise. It jus' kept her from gettin' up." He yawned, and Bones did the same as she woke up. "Wha'?" Race noticed how cute she was with her hair all in her face. "A'ight, fair enough. Bu' Bones, really, ya're sick, so please be careful. I was gonna see if ya were well enough ta come ta Tibby's, bu' I ain't too sure. Bu' I'll stay wit her, Race, if ya wanna go." Race shook his head, he was tired from having just woken up, and he felt Jack should go. "No, you go, I'll stay wit her again." Jack looked at him for a second before nodding and heading off. "So, how'd ya sleep?" he asked, but he guessed she fell back asleep, and he chuckled to himself. He watched her for a second, not realizing how tired he was, and drifted back to sleep, as well.
   Luckily, he woke up before anyone else had gotten in the room, and Bones was still asleep. He got up, and checked her forehead. She was still burning up, and Race didn't know what to do. He kissed her forehead, and sat back on his bed. As soon as he sat down, he heard shuffling downstairs, and the newsies started appearing, asking how she was. He had to keep shushing them, telling them she was asleep. They all obliged, and eventually, everyone had gone to sleep.
   Bones woke up in the middle of the night feeling miserable. She knew she was supposed to do something, but she forgot what it was. She sat up, but then laid back down. "Hey, Bones, you okay?" For a second, she was confused, but then she realized it was coming from the bed next to her. She turned on her side to face Crutchy. She shook her head. "Not really. I jus' feel bleh." She smiled, and Crutchy quietly chuckled. He noticed her voice was raspier than it had been earlier. "Sorry you don' feel good." She shrugged, "I don' know. Bu' now I'm really tired again. Maybe we shoul' both get some more sleep." Crutchy chuckled again, and nodded, and they both went back to sleep.
   She woke up coughing. Coughing so much it hurt. And she couldn't stop. She had never been this sick before, and she hated it. She felt like she was dying. Everyone looked so worried, but she couldn't do anything. She wasn't really paying attention to anything going on around her, but she knew that Race had said he wasn't selling at Sheepshead until she was better, so that he could be close. She wanted to tell him to go, and not to worry about her, but even if she could tell him, she knew he wouldn't listen.
   When she hadn't stopped coughing for almost a week, everyone knew something was wrong. But even if they combined their money, they didn't have enough for a doctor. They couldn't do anything, and they all hated it.
   Race had been selling near the lodging house so he could check up on Bones every once in a while, when he saw Spot of all people, walking towards him, really worried and confused. Race was confused, too. "Spot, what're ya doin' here?" "Makin' sure Bones is a'ight. Ace said summin' abou' her not feelin' well." Race furrowed his brow. "You sent a spy on her?" Spot nodded. "Yeah, when I hadn't heard from you or her in a week. I knew summin' was up, an' she's my friend, too!" Race had to give him that. Spot was just worried, and Race figured he would have done the same. "She's really sick, coughin' all da time. You can go see her, if ya wan'." Spot nodded again, and walked through the door, up to where Bones was laying.
   She was still coughing, and she was curled into a ball. Spot wanted to hug her, but knew it would be a bad idea. He had only been there for a few minutes, when he heard shuffling footsteps, and two voices he didn't know. Quickly, he pulled himself out the window, just as two newsies came in the room. Mush felt so bad for Bones. She had gone through so much, people disrespecting her, and almost dying 20 times a day, it wasn't really fair. Then she just brushed it off like it was nothing. And now she had gotten sick out of nowhere, and there wasn't much they could do. All they could do was wait, and try their best to help her feel better. He had brought her some bread, hoping she would eat. They had all tried to get her to eat something, but she wouldn't. She couldn't stop coughing long enough to eat anything, anyway, but it worried everyone. But she did seem to be getting a little better, it seemed her coughing was starting to slow down. So Mush sat with Specs, and they talked a little, trying to talk to Bones, as well. She acknowledged them, but she wasn't able to speak to them.
   That night, her coughing slowed down considerably. Eventually, she was able to sleep, albeit for short amounts of time, in which she would wake up, and start coughing again, but she could sleep, and that's what mattered.
   When Race woke up, Bones wasn't coughing. She didn't have a wet cloth on her forehead. In fact, she was sitting at the edge of his bed, staring at him. He looked around. Everyone was still asleep.  Then he looked out the window. It was still a dark gray outside. She held a finger to her lips, and gestured for him to follow her. He didn't know why, but he did. They made their way onto the roof, and Bones gestured for him to sit next to her. She didn't speak, she just waved her hand for him to sit. He listened, and he sat down. She sat really close, close enough he could feel her heartbeat, and it was as if their heartbeats were in synch. She laid her head on his chest, and he hugged her in closer to him. They sat like that, in silence, watching the sunrise. And once the sun was up, and it was time for the newsies to get up, they silently slipped back into their beds. A single word had not been spoken, but words were not needed. Race knew she needed quiet, and she needed to think about something other than selling newspapers, and that's all she could think of when she was sick. But the sunrise had been beautiful, and Race wondered how many times she had gone up to watch it. He felt special, being the one she wanted to watch it with. And up there, with their hearts beating together, he could never have asked for a more perfect moment, and he knew, right then and there, that he loved her. Not like a brotherly, protective love. Like a he would do anything to be with her, even die for her, kind of love.
   She was still not able to sell that day, but she was much better. Her voice was a little raspy still, but her fever had come down, and she wasn't coughing anymore. But Race still stayed close. All day, he thought about that morning. He thought about it when buying his newspapers, he thought about it when shouting out the headlines, and he definitely thought about it as he went to sleep that night. He wished he could have stayed in that moment forever. Maybe one day.

An: Drawing is not mine, I can't draw. But if anyone has any drawings they'd like me to use, because my character is amazing at drawing, you are welcome to send me stuff to use.

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