Reincarnated ~ A Modern Newsies Au (Nowsies)

The Gambler | August 16, 1955

I'm sooooo excited to write this.

It was actually the idea for this flashback chapter that truly inspired me to write flashback chapters for all occasions.

And the last part of the jigsaw puzzle plot finally gets resolved here, so all is going according to plan.

Get ready for a flood of all the feels.

Enjoy! :)

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Race puts the last puzzle piece into place, finally completing the jigsaw puzzle titled Heaven and Earth Blending. For the longest time, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Now, he finally has. 

Except, there's a piece missing, so it's a 322-piece puzzle instead of a 323-piece puzzle.

The last piece could be anywhere. But Race doesn't care enough to find it. He hasn't cared enough to do much of anything, lately.

It was sixteen years ago when he got this puzzle. Nearly seventeen.

It's been sixteen years since the love of his life died.

Today would have been the day Spot would have turned 72 years old.

Sixteen years.

That's the age he was--or close enough to, anyways--when he was a part of the strike in 1899.

You love bringing up the strike of '99, don't you?

He grins fondly at the memory. It's true that he loves talking about it too.

56 years and two weeks ago, the newsies won their strike.

56 years.

And ever since, Race has lived his life. He moved on from being a newsie, got a job, got a house. He's never adopted a child; he never wanted to raise a child alone. So instead, he quit his job (that wasn't going anywhere anyway) and became an elementary school teacher, becoming a parent figure to all little kids who revered and respected and were in awe of him. He loved all of them. That's all behind him now.

He's 71 years old, a little under three months away from becoming 72, and he's lived his life.

He looks around his house. This small house that he's had forever. It's so empty here without Spot, without anyone but him, but he couldn't ever bring himself to move. This place has so many memories. He and Spot spent the best years of their adult lives in these walls.

He looks outside, noting the position of the sun. Judging by where it is right now, it's give or take 6 o'clock pm. He got rid of all clocks and ways to tell time in his house once he retired. All he needs is the sun.

He looks at the puzzle, smiling at it fondly. It doesn't matter that it's missing a piece. It's whole to him. And that's all that matters.

He throws the jigsaw puzzle box out the open window. He doesn't need the box any longer. True, littering isn't the best course of action. But he doesn't care. He doesn't really care about anything right now.

He knows that he can't stay in the house tonight.

He doesn't know exactly where he's planning to go, but he'll go somewhere.

This room is so, so empty.

Chiamiami ancora amore.

Once upon a time, he said that to Spot.

Spot had told him in return, chiamiami sempre amore.

It was their phrase, so long ago.

He hasn't uttered any of those words in so long out loud.