⭐️ •• "time is slowly tracing his face, but strangely he feels at home in this place." •• ⭐️
In 1894, the only thing on Elizabeth Bownett's mind was getting home. Snow covered streets were her enemy, she could barely see as the snow pelted her numb...
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BIRDIE ______________
My body jolts. My fingers fan across the cold bed sheets beside me, finding the empty space.
Davey.
I shiver as the realization that it's cold washes over me, and my teeth begin to chatter. I want him to be here. I want to feel his warmth. I wrap myself tighter in the bedding and try my best to drift back to sleep. I figure it's no use as my eyes peel open, my thoughts threatening to worsen. My dreams were filled with nothing but the events that happened during the first day of strike. The blood and bruises, the way they attacked us so viciously and mercilessly. How they took Davey down.
I miss him.
My shaky body slowly moves from under the fraying sheets, wooly-socked feet hitting the cold floor, and I stand. My balance is lost as I tumble to the floor in pain. I yelp, looking down at my legs. They're bruised, weak, and red. I want to cry, looking at my skin and touching it delicately. It burns. A tear slips away.
Everything is being ruined. Why am I ruining everything?
Soon I'm in a fit of tears, clawing and grasping at the bed to give me the strength to rise to my trembling feet. My dry, ragged, red, calloused skin on my hands clasps the sheets and tugs, the muscles in my arms trembling. I stand, my legs aching with such a pain... I clothe myself, pull on one of Davey's wool coats and my newsies cap, twisting my curls into a low bun and tie up my leather boots. All of the pain is still there, but I continue to try and push it aside as I walk out the door.
The sky is dark with gray clouds, and my eyes scan the streets. I need to get to Jack. I need to.
DAVEY __________
My whole body aches like it's broken. My whole body is broken. I look up at the bunk above me, my green eyes shutting for a few seconds and then opening again like eventually I'll be back in the Lodge with Lizzie or at my house with Les.
Lizzie... oh God, what if they hurt her? I would never forgive myself if they hurt her. What about Les? He's too small and fragile for this.
But if Race or Liz or Jack are okay then they'll have taken care of him. He'll be okay, safe at home with my mother and father.
A whimper comes from the bunk above mine and I perk up at the ears, alert. The whimpering starts again, accompanied by sniffles.
I carefully, and painfully, swing my legs over the side of the bed to poke my head up over the top of the bunk. A little boy and little girl are hugging each other closely, the little boy crying as the little redhead rubs his brunet's head gently.
"Hey," I whisper, and the redhead looks toward me. "Come here, I'll help you get warm."
