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A/N: I sorry for lack of updates. School and life are hectic and stressful and yeah.

It's incredibly short, but I needed it to be short so I can continue to the next part. Sorry.

Ruth was scared. For one of the first times in her life, Ruth was so scared, she felt like she would throw up everything in her stomach. She felt dizzy, and had to steady herself against the wall of the hospital. She tugged down the hospital mask and took in a deep breath, cringing at the smell of cleaning products and sweat. She ran a hand through her hair once, before clutching onto the bag that hung loosely at her side. She closed her eyes and sighed, before placing the mask over her face and pushing through the double doors that led to the Pneumonia wing.

Racetrack was still sitting up, which gave her great relief. She noticed the different faces in the rooms, which no accompanied the beds of past patients. She couldn't deny what thoughts ran through her head about the missing faces, no matter how hard she tried to push them from her mind. Racetrack spotted her and smiled weakly, before adjusting his gown and hair.

"Ruthie." He croaked, sad eyes peering into her equally sad ones. She sat beside his bed, both not daring to say a word.

"So-" She started.

"I like your-" He also said.

"You go first." Ruth said softly.

He nodded and cleared his throat, coughing deeply a few times. "I like.." cough. "Your hair. It looks-" cough. "Nice today." Racetrack slumped back in defeat, groaning as he rubbed his hands on his face. "Damn cough."

"Thank you," She smiled, pretending that he hadn't nearly jacked up a lung with his simple sentence. "I brought you something. You better appreciate it. It took a lot of bribing and promised I don't intend to keep to make this." Ruth pulled a few papers from her bag, and unfolded them.

She had bonded the pages together with twine. They were put in no particular order, but Spot had insisted his letter be on top, so on top it was.

"What's this?" Racetrack asked, flipping through the makeshift book.

"You've got lots of friends who love you." Ruth smirked as she saw the letter Jack had written for Crutchie. The messy handwriting had taken almost a full page to write a few simple sentences, but it was heartfelt and sweet.

Racetrack read the letter from Spot and nearly choked.

It read:

Dear asshole,
Why'd you have to get sick? Now, your girl came all the way to brooklyn to make something to help you, and I'm supposed to right somethin nice. I hope you feel better really soon, cause we's all missing our favorite betting bud. Life's been weird without my short, annoying weird kid person in it.

Another thing, you better take care of your girl. She's way too good for you, and I hopes you know that. Not many girls would do what she did for you.

Signed,
Spot Conlon (best damn newsie there ever was)

Racetrack looked up at Ruth. "You went to Brooklyn? Alone?"

She looked at him sheepishly. "Maybe..."

"God, I love you." He chuckled, flipping the page to see a few words from some other Brooklyn newsies who had found Ruth later and begged to help.

He moved onto Jack's.

Race,
Hope you get better soon. Life's not the same without ya. Albert's forbidden anyone from stealing the cigars you thought no one knew you hid under Crutchie's bed. We all miss you. Come back home soon.

"It's truly amazing, Sweetheart." He smiled, wanting nothing more to kiss her.

Little did he know she wanted nothing more than to kiss him.

My Sweetheart -Newsies Racetrack Higgins-Where stories live. Discover now