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The rest of the cold winter night, Racetrack sat in his bunk, regretting his harsh tone with Ruth. She was right, on the grounds that he should rest, but he literally couldn't afford to do so. He would've loved for Ruth to come over the next morning and read him some of her favorite books, and maybe gift him with another bowl of soup and crackers.

Mush avoided Racetrack, only making short eye contact with him as he got up from the game of cards. Racetrack could feel the icy stares from his friends as they watched him. Their eyes stayed on him like he was a wild animal, about to attack.

He tried to stand up, his feet slipping out from under the heavy blankets. He shivered as his bare feet hit the wooden floor, but he finally stood. He took a few small steps towards the door she had closed, but made it no further than one bunk away, before a familiar feeling in his chest seemed to crush him.

He slammed his hand onto the beam of a nearby bunk bed to keep himself from collapsing. He began to cough. Deep, ragged coughs exited his lungs as he began to feel dizzy.

"Race?" Buttons stood up from the nightly game of cards, going to check on him. This got the attention of everyone else, who all automatically turned to look at him. The room fell almost deathly silent, the only sound being the coughing from Racetrack.

"Get." Racetrack managed to breathe in between coughs. "Ruthie. And-" Racetrack coughed again. "Jack."

Racetrack felt his arm give out, and his legs turn to jelly. He felt his body hit the hardwood floors, before he seemed to pass out.

Since the cold winter had arrived, Jack and Crutchie traded their penthouse view for a warm bunk with the rest of the newsies. Crutchie was residing on a bottom bunk near the doorway, covered in many blankets, thanks to Jack.

Jack wandered around the lodge, bored out of his mind. It was too cold to be out for long at night without proper clothing, but joining the rest of his boys in a card game he would most certainly lose, wasn't intriguing tonight. He had a piece of coiled up sketch paper and a pencil, sketching a few random objects, like an imaginary skyline, a tin box of cookies, and a dozen other things. He finally sat near the front doors, on a small chair with an ottoman to rest his feet.

He heard the door to the bunk room close and the sound of someone rushing down the stairwell. He heard a sniffle, followed by Ruth's form turning around the corner. Her puffy red eyes met Jack's with anger and sadness.

"Ruthie?" Jack rose an eyebrow.

Ruth breathed unsteadily, stopping her descent in the stairs. Jack jumped to his feet, and made his way to her. "Hey, you okay?" He asked. Years of soothing the other boys nightmares and outbursts had made Jack an expert at reading people.

Ruth began to speak, but cut herself off. She shook her head, looking upwards to blink away the tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Hey..." Jack moved closer, helping her down the rest of the stairs and sat her on the small chair he had been sitting on. She put her face in her hands, wiping away the small tears.

"What's wrong? Who I needa kill? Hmm?" Jack crouched next to the chair, making Ruth dryly laugh. Jack cracked a small smile as he heard it.

"I'm okay, Jack. Just a little tired." She lied, and Jack rolled his eyes.

"Bullshit." He stated, making Ruth's eyes widen in surprise. "What's really wrong?"

"Race and I got in a little disagreement." She mumbled.

Jack stayed silent, urging her to continue.

"I told him to stay in bed tomorrow and he refused. Said I don't understand." Ruth but her lower lip to keep herself from crying more.

"Ruth." Jack said softly, "it's not your fault. Race can be real stubborn sometimes." Jack recalled a few memories of Racetrack refusing to do something, only to regret it later. Once, he bet two whole days worth of food at the races, and lost it all within minutes as his horse was promptly disqualified for an unknown reason. Another time, Racetrack was trying to sell a other lousy headline about the trolley strikers, and when one man gave him a rude glance, Racetrack never let it go.

"He'll come to his senses soon, I betcha." Jack smiled lopsidedly.

Ruth took a deep breath, calming herself down. "Thanks, Jack." She said softly, letting him know she was sincere.

"You're welcome." Jack nodded, before hearing another pair of feet run down the stairs.

"Jack!" A desperate voice screamed. Jack stood up, raising an eyebrow at the young boy on the stairs. He couldn't of been older than twelve. He had large tears in his eyes, his bottom lip trembling.

"What is it?" Jack asked, coming closer to the young newsie.

"Upstairs!" He yelled, pulling at Jack's arm and leading him upstairs. He spotted Ruth on the chair and promptly let go of Jack. He clasped her hand, and tried to pull her out of the chair. Ruth got the message and stood up quickly. She held his hand tightly, and the three of them went up the stairs as quick as possible.

A/N: Sorry peoples... I enjoy pulling on heartstrings. Comment what you think should happen next

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