Disclaimer: This story features characters from Disney's 1992 musical, Newsies. I do no stake any claim to them and they are used for fictional purposes only. Any other character is either the property of this author or the creator of said character.
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Pick Your Poison
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I didn't expect Sunny to have an answer for me. I don't know what I woulda done if she had something to say to that but… if I'm bein' honest with me, it woulda been nice for her to say that it did, that it did matter. We had some good times way back when, back before she chose Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon over me, and it woulda helped me die a bit easier knowin' that it mattered to her that I was dyin'.
Shit, just because I didn't want her to know I was dyin', it didn't mean that I liked the idea that it didn't matter to her that I was dyin'.
So, yeah, the silence after that short exchange was pretty loud and I couldn't take it. Even though the cigarette was only about halfway smoked, I tossed the damn thing to the ground out of… I don't know, maybe it was frustration, maybe it was anger. Hell, it might've even been hurt.
Or stupidity. There'd been half a smoke left and, just 'cause the cat's got Sunny's tongue, I threw it away.
Shakin' my head, I didn't even look back up. I kept my eye on the dirt and, purposely, started to walk away from her, mumblin' as I went. "Forget it, Sunny, just forget all of it."
I ain't too sure what was goin' on in Sunny's head then but it took her a bit before she started up after me again. For a tick there, I didn't think she was ever gonna move from that spot—but, then again, whether she was Sunny Willows or little Mary, I knew the girl. There was no way she was gonna let me walk away from her like that.
Especially now that she knows.
There ain't no way in Hell that she was gonna let me walk away from her without sayin' something about me dyin'. I knew that—I just wished I didn't. It woulda been a whole lot easier on me—and, even if she don't care, it ain't nice to know that someone's sick and dyin'—if she'd never even opened her trap.
She surprised me and, considerin' the day I'd had—findin' out that Spot tricked me, that Sarah married Jack and they had a kid, that Jack didn't want to kill me for sendin' him to the Refuge seven years ago—that was sayin' something. I didn't think I had it left in me to be surprises but Sunny surprised me.
She didn't say nothing.
The sound was faint, almost like she was tryin' her damndest not to make a noice. But I heard it and I had the feelin' that I'd hear the echoes of her clack—clack—clack until the day I actually died. She was right up behind me, followin' me wherever I went, but she wasn't sayin' nothing.
It was a good thing that I was walkin' ahead of her. I didn't want to see her and I sure as hell didn't want her lookin' at me right then. From that last fight of mine, I could feel tears in my eyes and I'm pretty damn sure there was spittle on my chin but I didn't even bother wipin' at it now.
I didn't care and, 'sides, we was just about at the Brooklyn Bridge.
Thank fuckin' God.
There was only—what? Two blocks, maybe three until we'd get there and I was glad. I didn't even need to bother crossin' the damn Bridge to bring Sunny back to Spot's… accounting firm. If Spot was so sure that she knew her way around the City, then it ain't too much to ask that she go on over the Bridge alone and make her way back to Bridge Street, right?
Yeah.
Besides, she done what Spot had told her to do. She'd taken me to Jack's place. It was over and done with. I bet she couldn't wait to be back with that short bastard, anyway.
The image of Spot and his sharklike grin was hauntin' me as I trudged on, shufflin' down the street. I could see the Bridge loomin' ahead of me and, for the first time I could remember, I didn't even feel the tiniest bits of nerves at seein' the damn thing in front of me. I guess I had too much shit on my mind to worry about a damn Bridge.
Or maybe it was because, as soon as I caught sight of the Bridge, I noticed something was missin'.
I didn't hear the damn clack—clack—clack of her heels no more.
Slowly, and pretendin' like I was angry rather than tired, annoyed rather than hurt, I turned around and looked for Sunny. It was pushin' midday and the streets were busy but, shit, I could find Sunny anywhere. There was something about that girl that caught my eye no matter what…
I could see her, standin' about half a block back. As if she knew exactly where she was goin'—and how couldn't she, what with the big Bridge perched right in front of us—but she don't want to go, she's stopped. Her hands were folded primly before her but I recognized by the tilt of her head that she was set.
She didn't want to go over the Bridge. Not yet, anyways.
Sunny wasn't done with me, yet.
Sighin', I took a coupla steps forward, movin' closer to it so that I wasn't hollerin' across half a street just to tell her to hurry up. When I was only a few feet away from her, I paused. "What are you doin', Sunny? We gotta get goin', I'm sure Spot's gonna be wor—"
"I never stopped lovin' you, Benny."
She mighta been the one interruptin' me but, as soon as she said those words, I'd forgotten what it was I was already sayin'. My mouth dropped open—either I was hearin' things or Sunny was pullin' my leg, big time.
"What the hell did you just say?"
"I never stopped lovin' you, Benny," she repeated, louder this time. I glared over at her, darin' her to look me in the eye and lie to me. She met my gaze and I could see that her cheeks were damp—but there were no tears. She wasn't cryin' but she was serious as she continued, "I never stopped hopin' that one day… just, one day, you'd come back and you'd tell me why you left."
I wasn't in the mood for this. Yeah, maybe I shoulda been expectin' something like this from her, especially after the way she came on to me last night, but this was low. After everything the two of us have been through, back then and yesterday and today, I couldn't believe she was sayin' this now.
Not now.
Maybe if I woulda been expectin' this her words wouldn't have been such a surprise—maybe then I wouldn't have been such an ass when I retorted back. But, I'll tell ya this: I wasn't expectin' this and, because I was ignorant, I was mad. I was angry.
And I took it all out on her.
I apologized to Jack for what I did to him, what I did to Sarah. But he didn't apologize to me, I realized. And, with Sunny sayin' shit like that to me, it wasn't no surprise that I turned on her like that.
She was the only one that was left…
"You never stopped, huh? It must be fuckin' hard to keep on pinin' after my sorry ass when you're fuckin' Spot Conlon, Sunny." I sounded bitter and that was good but, hell, yeah, I guess I was bitter. How dare her, how dare her tell me that still loved me. Like that was gonna mean something after what she put me through, shit. "Besides, you know damn well why I left. And now," I snorted, "now you know why the fuck I came back."
If, for a moment, I thought that Sunny hadn't been eavesdroppin' when I was talkin' to Jack, her face gave it away. "You sent Jack away," she told me and I knew she could figure exactly what I told that copper back in 1900, "I kinda always knew you were the one who did it but I could never figure out why. You just up and left and the next thing I knew, Jack Kelly hisself was bein' hauled off to the Refuge again. Bu—"
"He deserved it." I straightened up, it was hell on my back, but I towered over her. "Look at him, with his perfect little family and his perfect little life. Don't tell me he didn't deserve everything he got for what he did to me. And look, he still ended out on fuckin' top."
I was really mad, then. Could ya blame me?
She knew that I wasn't makin' no sense, that I was talkin' through my anger, but she didn't give in. Instead, she made me fall to my knees with her own damn words. "Why'd you do it, Benny? You messed with Jack and then you were gone." Oh, she was fumin' then.
She had no right to be angry but she was. Her perfect perfect curls were hangin' limply around her shoulders and her face had turned as red as fresh blood. Her hands weren't on her hips no more, they were stretched out in front of her as if she was pushin' me away and pullin' me in in one gesture.
And she wasn't done yet. "We could have had that, we could have been just like Jack and his wife. Me and you, our own place, a kid or two. That could have been us, you know. Why'd you do it, Benny?"
We was yellin' now, me and Sunny, and I didn't care. It was seven years comin' for both of us.
I didn't even bother lookin' around to see if any of the other people on the streets was watchin' me and her. I just hollered right back, "Because he fucked you, Sunny!" I was pantin' hard and I figured it was time I started to calm down before the coughs came. I took a breath, then another, before sayin', "You was my girl and Jack Kelly fucked you. That's why I did it."
The way she looked at me just then was as if I'd just slapped her across the face. She took a step away. "Me? And Jack? Never—"
"Don't fuckin' lie to me, Sunny. I saw you, both of you, over at Sunshine's before I left. That's why I left, you know. I was gonna to ask you to marry me and you were with him."
The color drained from her face. In one instant, she went from red to white all over, every bit of her losin' color. She looked dead herself as she managed to spit out one word: "Marry?"
I know I never shoulda told her that but, damn it, just like tellin' Jack that I was sorry was something that I had to do, I think I was supposed to tell Sunny about what coulda been. If only for my own peace—and 'cause I'm a selfish bastard—I had to tell her… so I did.
"Yeah. Marry. I don't know what I was thinkin' when I was a kid but I wanted to marry you, make you my wife and everything. But I couldn't, not after what I'd seen."
I was beginnin' to feel pretty queasy, almost like I was gonna get sick all over the place but my pride wasn't havin' none of that. I had one more thing I had to say—it was as if this whole thing, bein' partnered with Sunny again, was because I had one last thing I needed to get off my chest.
With a laugh that could be best described as cruel, I told her, "I may have been sorry about what I'd done to Jack. Hell, I may even regret runnin' off on everything I'd ever known but I'll say this: I wasn't sorry then about leavin' a two-bit cheatin' whore behind and I sure as hell ain't sorry now."
I thought it was done. I'd finally been able to, after seven damn years, been able to tell Sunny the truth. To let her know how I felt then and why those feelings had, after so many years, brought me back to New York.
I'd come because I needed to apologize to Jack Kelly. I wasn't supposed to ever see Sunny again and, even though I did, nothin' mattered. Right, Sun? Nothin' mattered, huh?
"You should be."
What?
"'Scuse me?"
There was a flush to her cheeks, like some of the color had returned. Like she was gettin' some of the fight back in her. But she didn't look angry—she looked… upset? Sad? Alone?
What was goin' on? She wasn't supposed to look like that. Angry, sure, shocked, yeah. But upset? She didn't have the right to be upset at anything I said. She was the one who cheated on me, who fucked up my life. Why was she upset?
Her lips were drawn, thin and mean, as she answered me. "I said you should be. I was never with Jack Kelly. Never. I've never been with no one else, you ass." She was gettin' all worked up again. Her eyes almost seemed to be on fire and her once perfect curls were flyin' in the summer heat as she bobbed her head in anger. "I never even fucked Spot Conlon, as you seem to be so keen on suggestin'. I'm his damn trophy, his damn prize, but I've never been his whore. I told you before and I'll tell you again—the only whore I've ever been is yours!"
I ignored the whole second half of her rant, focusin' instead on what she said first. I wasn't ready—I never would be—to face the consequences of Sunny's heated admission. "Oh, yeah? Then who did I see him sleepin' with? Your fuckin' twin?"
She opened her mouth to retort but stopped. She blinked her eyes twice and, when she spoke, she sounded more strangled than anything. I guess she was quicker on the uptake than me 'cause she figured it all out first. "Wait. You… you saw someone who… looked… like me, screwin' Jack? Is that what you're sayin'?"
"Yeah. You."
"No."
"What the fuck do you mean? No? Come off it, Sunny. Do you really think I'd do everything I did, run off like that seven years ago, if I wasn't sure that that was you I saw?"
"It wasn't me, I can promise you that. But I've got a pretty good idea who it could have been."
"Who, Sunny? Who was that I saw on top of Jack Kelly?"
She tried to place one of her hands on me but I jerked my hand out of her reach. This wasn't the time to be playin' around and I think she knew that. At the very least, she pulled her hand back and tried to talk reasonably to me. "This girl, I bet she had long blonde hair
"Like you," I interrupted, nastier than I shoulda.
Sunny tensed and I could tell that she took offense at my tone. Yeah, she was tryin' to be nice but I wasn't havin' it. The way I saw it, she wasn't tryin' to be nice—she was tryin' to cover her ass seven years later. Whatever it was, she was talkin' again. "And she was slim—"
I couldn't help myself. "Yeah, like you."
This time, she ignored me. "And she was a tramp."
I had half a mind to repeat myself again but, when I looked into Sunny's face, I knew that I didn't have the nerve to say it again. I'm a dyin' man, yeah, and I'd been hopin' that Jack would do me in but, when I met Sunny's blazin' eyes, I almost saw death and, shit, it wasn't pretty.
Instead, I just nodded.
"Doesn't that sound familiar? Doesn't it sound like anyone you knew?"
I almost think she was pleadin' with me. It sounded like she had an idea in her head and was hopin' that I'd fall for it but… I don't know. I don't think I could. After all this time, I don't think I could believe that I was wrong.
"No," I said, even though I wasn't even tryin' to think what she was thinkin'. It was so much easier to be angry and ignorant. If Sunny was tellin' the truth, even if I didn't think she was, then that meant I was wrong. That I'd played around in the life of an innocent man and left behind the only girl I'd ever loved because of my fucked up pride.
"You're lyin'," Sunny replied, simple as that. "You know as well as I do which one of Harry's girls fits that description, Benny, and it sure wasn't me."
She was baitin' me and, damn it, I couldn't resist.
"Then who was it?"
"Molly."
Her answer hit me right in the chest. But it wasn't the coughs that was stealin' my breath—I couldn't breathe because I knew, without even really knowin', that she was right.
Molly O'Mahoney. It was only yesterday that I remembered just how alike she and Sunny looked when they were younger, what with their dirty blonde hair and their brown eyes. They was just about the same age too, Sunny a year younger than Molly, and Molly was always sore about that point. Thought she was better than Sunny; everyone else just thought she was a cheaper version of Sunny Willows.
She was a tramp alright, ready to sleep with anyone who was willin'.
Includin', I would bet, Jack Kelly.
I was shakin' my head, tryin' not to listen to Sunny—listen to my own damn conscience—but it wasn't workin'. Sunny had never lied to me in all the time I knew her so, even though she's grown now and livin' with Spot Conlon, it was hard to believe she'd start now.
Molly, damn it.
I shoulda fuckin' known.
"Oh."
Look at that, I'm takin' after Spot and Jack, after all. Sunny tells me, tells me after seven damn years, that it wasn't her I saw fuckin' Jack and what do I say? 'Oh'.
Ya know, it woulda be a whole lot easier if Jack woulda done me in. Or Spot. Or bald Paulie. Anyone. 'Cause, I'll tell ya this, if I woulda been dead already, I never woulda had to die with all this on my head.
All I wanted to do was clear my chest so I can die a proud mine. Whoever woulda thought something as simple as that woulda been so damn complicated?
Shit.
"I loved you, Benny, and I never would have done anything to hurt you. How could you have believed I ever would?"
She was whisperin' and, even though there was more people than I could count millin' around, I heard every word. I just pretended like I didn't.
"That was a long time ago, Sunny," I said, tryin' like hell to make it look like anything she said wasn't botherin' me. I shrugged and that one action was in defeat. It was all my fault, I knew that, but I wasn't gonna tell her that. It was bad enough that she had to keep sayin' she loved me. Did she really have to make my death even harder? "It's all in the past now."
She took a deep breath—the sound seemed louder than that bum sellin' grub on the corner—and lifted her head to look at me again. Oh, shit, there's tears now. She ain't cryin' but they're there. I can see 'em… and I wished I didn't.
"It doesn't have to be."
Yes, Sunny, it does.
I dropped my gaze for a second, but only for a second, just for enough time to twist my face into the meanest grimace I could give it. It didn't take much work and I recognized that the frown I usually wore was only one or two twitches away from that look. "Don't fuckin' try that on me. Whether you're his whore or not, you belong to Spot," I said, rough and gruff though, inside, I almost felt like cryin' myself. I pointed at the damn Bridge. "You belong over there so go."
"But Benny—"
This is not what I wanted to happen. I didn't want to see Sunny—but I did. I didn't want to admit that I still had feelings for her—but I did. I sure as hell didn't want to hear that she still loved me, or that it was me who messed everything up… but this was the worst. She was tryin' to stay with me and I couldn't let that happen.
No matter what, I couldn't let Sunny Willows watch me die.
"No. No 'buts'. Just go!"
"Ben—"
"I said go!"
The words came out with a snarl and, to be honest, I think I scared myself, too. I jabbed viciously towards that stupid fuckin' Bridge, tryin' to get the point across to her. She couldn't be with me, no matter how much I wanted her to. The last time I gave her up, I blamed her. This time, there was no one to blame but me.
Sunny certainly looked stunned. Her big, brown eyes were wide but, I gotta give her credit, she didn't cry. She stared at me for a minute too long—I faltered but, in the end, I didn't waver—before noddin' and takin' hesitant steps forward. She kept her head straight as she walked past me—I shivered but my pose did not break—and I could smell all those smells that were Sunny to me. The warmth and the honey and the sunshine…
I couldn't concentrate on her scent for long 'cause, just as she slowly sauntered by, I heard a whisper.
She was whisperin' to me.
"For what it's worth," she said, and she did not meet my eye as she said it, "it does matter, Skittery."
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That was the last time I saw Sunny Willows. With her head bowed down and her heels going clackclackclack as she hurried away from me, she was gone and I just let her go. I didn't want to do but I had to. Damn it.
That was the last time I saw the Brooklyn Bridge. The fuckin' bridge was almost mockin' me as I angrily kicked some dirt at it. It would still be standin' years, decades, centuries from now and me? I'd be nothing but a bit of dust on the wind. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to give some other bummer a case of the coughs.
That was the last time I saw New York City. The stink, though, that stayed with me until the end. I deserved it, too.
And that… that was the last time I… yeah.
Yeah.
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Pick your poison, they used to say. In a shithole like New York City, there were all sorts of sins for a bum like me to choose from: girls, booze, drugs, money… everything you could need for a good time, ya know?
Me, I chose a good old vice: a bit of tobacco and a pape to roll it in. I was always a dumb and glum kind of guy—what did you expect from me? What did I expect from a cigarette? Hell, there ain't nothing like burning your insides up from inside out. Right? Oh, well.
It was good while it lasted. Maybe next time I won't fuck everything up so bad.
Pick your poison…
Ya know, Jack Kelly didn't put me out of my damn misery like I hoped he'd do but that was alright. In the end, I didn't die of no goddamn cough.
I was fuckin' poisoned.
Author's Note: Well, that's all folks! I can't believe it myself but Pick Your Poison is now complete. I hope that anyone who read this lovely little foray into the twisted mind of Skittery enjoyed it and, if you did, I would be absolutely thrilled to hear from you. This project started out as a little experiment of mine and became one of my favorites and I'm so glad to see it complete :)
I do want to thank those who were with me as this story was written, those who read it... those who reviewed it. Feedback is always great to have, and it's so nice to see that a writer's work is being appreciated. On the flip side, I cherish every single review that I receive and I would like to offer my sincere thanks to those who took the time to offer me some words on Poison: Rogue, Lady Sorciere, Peg, Rae, Keza, Brockie, Newsgirl Poet, Hilby, Zippy, 'Tis a Tale Worth Telling, Orange Socks and Polka Dots and Kaitins.
Until next time, guys! -- stress