Matt 25:36,39,40 – "…I was sick and you looked after me…Lord, When did we see you sick?…I tell you the truth, whatever you did for the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."
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Blink opened his eye. The sun shone from the window, but everything was so blurry. And why did everything sound so loud? He groaned and flopped back onto the bed. Jack sneaked over to his bed and jabbed him. "C'mon, Blink. Get up! Get up ya lazy bum!"
Blink grabbed the pillow from beneath his head and hit Jack with it. "It's you whose da lazy bum. Go away!" He pulled the pillow snugly over his head.
Bumlets, Skittery, Specs, and Dutchy ran over and broke into perfect four-part harmony. "Goooooood morning…Good morning! It's grand to see you on hand, Good morning! Good morning to yoooooou!"
Blink threw his pillow at them. "Go aWAY!" Suddenly his sheet was pulled off his bed. He instinctively curled into a tight ball. "Gimme it back! I'm cold! Leamme alone!"
Jack suddenly swooped the boy into his arms and carried him, protesting the whole way, down the stairs. Right outside the door was a conveniently placed snowbank. Blink opened his eyes. "No! I'm up! I'm up! Anythin' but dat! NOOOOO!" His protests were roundly ignored as he was unceremoniously dumped into the cold, wet pile. He leaped off it and ran inside, screaming. "I'm UP! OK! EVERYONE HAPPY NOW!"
Blink grabbed a shower and turned on the hot water, hopeful there was some left. It was cold this morning. He came out as soon as possible, snatched a towel, and escaped to the bunkroom. It was almost vacant. He gratefully sat down on a nearby bunk. His head felt woozy. He took in a deep breath, which instantly sent him coughing. Aww man. I hate this. He got up carefully and looked around, trying not to upset his eye more than it was already. Things felt like they were dancing in front of him.
He quickly dressed, just in time to find the other newsies coming in after him. Some sang completely off tune, others in perfect harmony, all singing a different song and sounding like a harmonious cacophony. Normally he enjoyed the sound, but today he wished he had earplugs. Boys chattered about where they were gonna sell, and Blink had a lengthy conversation with Mush about the color of the distribution center.
Soon he followed the flood of people heading down the stairs. He waved to Kloppman and headed straight for the distribution center. The nun's food just didn't seem like it would settle today. He waited outside the closed gates, hopelessly wishing they would open early. He sat himself down on a nearby crate and set his head in his hands.
"You gonna make it, Blink?"
He looked up swiftly to the soft voice, wincing when things started dancing again. He tried to focus on the big object. "I dunno, Red. I can't decide which one o' ya ta answer."
Her ringing laugh echoed in his ears. He clutched them again. She quieted quickly. "Sorry."
He started to shake his head, then thought the better of it. "S'ok."
The bell started ringing and the gates swung open. Blink quickly got in line, Red behind him. A few newsies had run in before them. Blink got up to the counter.
"How many, Patchy?" Oscar's voice leered.
Red spoke up. "Where's Weasel?"
Oscar shrugged. "Sick taday, I spose. So how many, loveboids?" He sneered at them. Red gave him a withering look. Blink was too out of it to care.
Blink reached into his pocket and woozily set the change down. "I'll take…a nap, I think," he said in a strange voice. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell in front of Red. Red looked up.
"None. Fo' either o' us. Thanks." She quickly grabbed the change Blink had set down before Oscar could nab it. With an infuriating grimace, Oscar watched as Jack and Mush helped carried their comrade to the Lodging House.
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"He'll be ok. He jist needs ta rest."
"Ya think he could sell tomorra?"
"Best jist ta sleep it off."
Voices swerved in and out of the fog surrounding Blink. Every time he reached for one, it faded again and he was thrust into the black world of pain surrounding his being.
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A warm cloth touched his forehead and neck. He moaned softly.
"Ya're up." A smiling voice cleared through the grey-black fog. He slowly opened his eye.
"Whe…Wha…Hu…?" His sick-infused brain slurred his speech and slowed his reaction.
"Ya back in da House in da sick room. Ya fell in da distribution centa." The voice spoke again. It sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. He focused all his strengths on opening his eye and focusing.
A gentle face came into view. Freckled nose. Grey eyes. Cracked lips. Red hair. "Red?"
"Mmhmm. Jist relax now. Ya been out two days."
"Who…?"
"Me."
There was a pause while he considered this. She took his silence to feel his neck. "Ya temp's down a bit, but ya need it down mo' 'fore I let ya up."
"But…you…sell…?"
She shrugged and touched his forehead with the cloth again. "It's ok. I kin go a few days."
"I…can't."
"It's ok. Kloppman's lettin' ya stay anyway."
He let his head back down on the pillow. He coughed some more. She placed the cloth on his throat. He sighed. "Thanks."
"Hey. I'm s'posed ta." She grinned. "I'm yer friend."
Blink thought a minute. "What's wrong wit me?"
"I dunno. Prolly jist needed ta rest. You've had late nights and long working days, m'boy."
He frowned. "When kin I git…back to woik?"
She equally glared at him. "As soon as I say."
He soon after faded off into his world of grey. In his sleep a smaller, callused hand rested over his own. Oblivious to the fact, he slept on into the next day.
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The cloth again touched his forehead. His eye fluttered open.
"Ya feelin' any betta?"
He groaned and squinted. "I spose. A little."
"Good." She continued sponging his forehead. "Ya fever broke late las' night."
"Mm?"
She dipped the cloth in the water basin next to the bed and wrung it out. "Means you'll live ta woik anuuda day, boy." She reached to put the cloth on his forehead again. As she drew her hand away, he caught it.
"Thanks."
She looked at him quizzically. "It's me job. If I happen ta be good at it, no matta. Jist as long as it done."
He dropped her hand. "Is dat all I yam? A…a job t' ya?" He spit the word 'job' from his mouth like an already chewed, tasteless piece of gum from the bottom of a table. "Jist as long as da job get done, it don't matta who does it?" He coughed to the side, pushing away her gentle touch. He took a careful breath, turned back to face Red, and carefully closed his eye. "Please. Can I see Jack?" he gritted through clenched teeth.
He missed Red's curt nod and only heard her exit the room. He sighed. It wasn't a party being sick. Soon the door creaked again. "Blink?"
His eye shot open. "Jack! It's a relief to see someone other than her," he spat in disgust.
Jack frowned. This wasn't his easy-going friend. "Somethin' goin' on I should know about? Sorry 'bout throwin' ya in the snow, by da way."
Blink held up a hand. "S'ok." He sighed. "I hate being a crab. 'Specially toward her."
Jack let a small smile onto his face. "Hey, Kid, it's understandable. You been sick for…what? T'ree days now? She neva left ya side yet. We've had ta bring food to 'er."
Blink grimaced. "See? I'm an ungrateful wretch."
Jack winced. "Well, I wouldn't put it 'xactly like that."
"Well, how would you put it, then?" Blink challenged.
"Eh…unthankful idiot?"
"Thanks." Sarcasm fringed his voice. He sighed. "I dunno why it bugs me so much dat I'm just like another duty for her. I wanna…I wanna…" He closed his eye. "I dunno what I want."
"I think you do. You just can't put it into words." Jack patted Blink's shoulder clumsily, trying to be comforting. "Hey. Think about it. I'll send her in a…how bout fifteen minutes?"
Blink closed his eye again. "Shoah."
"K. I'll get 'er in da pokah game 'er sumptin."
"Thanks."
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Fifteen minutes later, Red quietly tiptoed in and silently shut the door behind her. She crept up to her charge's bedside and looked at him. Serene, even more so as he slept. She silently pulled her stool next to his bed and checked him over. Better, more color in his cheeks that was necessary, but could probably get out of bed tomorrow, she mused. She turned to go, seeing she wasn't needed here.
"Don't." A hand shot out and grabbed a suspender hanging around her knees. She turned around.
"Let go. Please." She paused, worrying her lip with her teeth. "I'm not wanted here right now, I understand. I'll go."
"No." A pause. "Stay?"
She reluctantly took her place. "Okay." She silently and grimly wrung out another cloth and pressed it to the veins on the side of his neck, to cool the blood.
"When can I get up?"
"Bout tomorra, I spose." Another dip, another dab to his face. The cool cloth felt like heaven on his heated skin. She pressed the cloth to his forehead again. The silence in the room was unnerving.
He caught her hand.
"Please." Her pleading voice revealed a vestige of uncertainty.
"No. Please. I'm sorry for my attitude."
"Well, you do have an excuse."
"But I shouldn't be yellin' at you."
"Considerin' I'm the only one in the room, who else would ya?"
"Dunno. The wall."
She chuckled. He sighed.
"It's good to hear you laugh again." He swiftly kissed the hand he held. There was a small embarrassed silence as their hand lingered for a second. It broke as soon as she broke away. Her cheeks tinged pink as she bent over him again to administer the cool cloth.
"Thanks." He paused, his face thoughtful. "Ya know dat one verse ya read ta us da udda day? Uhmm…sumptin' bout 'I was sick 'n you looked afta me?"
She nodded. "Yes. Matthew 25:34. You want me to read it to you?"
He nodded. Surprised, she reached over to the nightstand and lifted a small, black book from the surface. He watched her as she flipped through the pages. The sound of pages turning slowed, and finally the running of her finger down the page. "Ah. Here it is. Matthew 25:34."
She looked up, having memorized this one when she was ten. "Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick," here she paused. She smiled at Blink, then continued. "I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and cloth you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'"
"Yeah, that one." Silence. "Ya know…" he rearranged himself on the pillow so he could look at her. "I thought o' ya when ya read dat."
She smiled, blushing. Blink was always the romantic one. She loved being his friend. It's better to be his friend than an enstranged sweetheart, she reminded herself.
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For my friends who were hungering for more RedBlink fluff. This is probably set between the second and third Reds. Thanks for reviews! They make my day brighter than night! – rj