Run Baby Run, Don't Ever Look Back (~*Mike*~)

[Dreamer]

Finally! After waiting patiently in line, Dreamer was now up to the counter ready to buy her papers to sell for the day. Nervously stepping up to the counter where a barred window seperated her from the giant Mr. Wiesel she dug into her pocket, pulling out a dusty nickle.

"20 papes please," she requested softly as she slid the nickel towards Wiesel.

After receiving her papers, Dreamer quickly went to the entrance of the distribution center, where she sat on a bench that she liked to sit at whenever she got her papers. As other newsies filed in packs with a ruckus, she neatly stacked her papers by her side, took one off from the top and started reading the front page. Her eyes widened in fear as she read the headline.

"TEXAS GANG ESCAPES JAIL! NOWHERE TO BE FOUND IN STATE"

She recognized the mugshot pictures, the description of their crimes, everything about this particular gang. Looking around as if the gang was actually there, watching her every move, she quickly tucked her papers under her arm, and started to move.

Her plan of action: Sell her papers before lunch, head back to the Lodging House, and lock the doors, telling no one about her past history with this gang.

As she moved to the entrance, she accidently bumped into someone. A guy.

An image of the leader of the gang flashed in her mind, replacing the guy's face with his face.

Dreamer took a step back with a gasp, and stood open mouthed for just a second, until she got her senses together, and realized it wasn't who she was thinking. Letting out a small sigh of relief, she put a hand on her chest, almost smiling.

"I'm sorry," she apologized meekly. "I thought you were someone else. You kind of scared me there...Excuse me,"

Dreamer started to move toward the entrance, but slowly now, and facing straight ahead.

[Mike D. Greaser]

Mike sauntered out of his apartment and into the warm sun. A smirk was on his face and a bounce in his steps. Something about today felt good. It just felt right. If anything it felt pure. To start off a new day was like starting with a clean page. All your mistakes and stupid actions of the previous day can be forgotten. You know what to do now, and how to do it.

That was how it was today for Mike. Don't get him wrong, he wasn't feeling guilty for his actions. Not in the least. He simply felt remorse for how he accomplished these tasks. He wished he would have done it more clever, smarter. He realized the stupid mistakes he made two years ago. He could have done so much more and gotten somewhere faster.

But that was why he felt cheery today. It was a new day; a new time. A time to start over and do accomplish so much more. This was going to be a good day. Today was the day where he would slowly crush the newsies.

Another day, another destiny.

Mike wasn't sure if he believed in destiny, but one things for sure, he knew this was what he was supposed to be doing. It was, after all, what he has been working at since he was a kid. He always felt the need to lead, and he always knew he would be a leader some day.

If those bloody newsies would have just given it up, none of this would have to happen. But they would know this soon enough. They would regret what they did; how they did it.


This never-ending road to Calvary


Mike strolled to Manhattan, letting his mind roam free. He thought about all of the things he was going to do to those bloody newsies. It filled him with excitement. Revenge flowed through his body. He let a smile creep unto his face.

Before he knew it, Mike had walked to the distributing center in Manhattan. Of course he couldn't stay long, he wasn't exactly ready for Kelly to know he was back, but he could at least take a peak.

He leaned against a wall, facing the newsies. He folded his arms over his chest and let his head drop. He watched the newsies out of his peripheral vision. A smirk continued to decorate his face as he watched them. He wondered if they even knew he was back. Did they even remember him? Yes, of course they did. He was Mike D. Greaser. They had to bloody remember him.

A girl ran away from the newsies, toward him. He waved it off and continued to watch Kelly and his little posse. Suddenly, a small body collided with him. He stumbled back and reached his arms out to steady himself.

Shaking his head, clearing it, Mike focused in on his abuser. It was the same girl from earlier. She was very small, with blonde hair and beautiful eyes. Her demeanor was nervous and jittery. He smirked, half expecting her to recognize him.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else. You kind of scared me there...Excuse me."

Her voice was quiet and meek. She didn't recognize him. True, he wasn't ready to be revealed quite yet, but it would have been interesting if she did know who he was.

"No, that was my fault, love," he answered her, absently. His eyes were still on Jack. She walked past him and Mike let her.

A plan began to form in his mind. She was a newsie, obviously. Why not start now? He turned on his heel and jogged after her.

"Excuse me," he said, trying to get her attention without drawing to much attention to himself. He didn't want to be spotted by Jack and his newsies, and with them right behind him, he had to be careful.

He reached her and slid to a stop. "Excuse me, your a newsie, right?" He asked stupidly. Of course she was a newsie.

[Dreamer]

Dreamer looked back for a second as she was walking away. The guy she bumped into seemed suspicious. He didn't even seem to notice that she bumped into him on accident. His eyes. He seemed intensely focused on something.

Letting her eyes wander to where the stranger was staring at, she grew even more suspicious. Her gaze landed on Jack "Cowboy" Kelly, the leader of Manhatten Newsies. Her group.

Dreamer didn't really know Cowboy that well. The only time she ever really spoke to him was at this one party...well not really speak to him. He did most of the talking. She was just hiding in a corner, and he was just wondering if she was all right.

The thing was, Dreamer was always afraid of strangers because of one very dark event in her past that she never wanted to bring up again.

She gripped the edge of the newspapers in hand, her fingernails digging into the paper, clenching her jaw tightly when her haunting memories invaded her head again, until she fought them, forcing it out of her mind.

But why did this guy seem so interested in Jack? She had only been in Manhatten a few weeks, a month maybe, but still didn't know that many people. Did Jack and this guy have a sort of past history or something?...

...It really wasn't any of her business. So Dreamer shifted the weight of papers under her arm and continued walking again.

"Excuse me,"

Dreamer looked behind her, and saw the stranger jogging towards her. Her first thought was to run away, but her body remained still. Taking quiet deep breaths, she let her eyes linger on the guy. When he came up to her, he asked her a question.

"Excuse me, your a newsie, right?"

There was a sort of English accent in his voice that would make Dreamer swoon usually, depending on the situation, but there was something in that voice that told Dreamer that something was going to happen soon that would change the course of the newsies lifestyle.

Forever.

"Um," she started, not taking her eyes off of him. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. Is there anything you need? Can I do anything for you? Like, sell you a copy of The New York World, or...something, I don't know,"

Dreamer took one of the newspapers under her arm, and showed it to him.

"There's this Texan gang that escaped county jail a day or so ago," she said, not even looking at the front page. "The cops think they ran out of the state or something like that..."

She put it back under her arm slowly, nervously. There was still that look in his eyes. That look. She remembered that look too well. The look of some sort of revenge being plotted.

"I should go," she said as an excuse to get away, turning her way back to the Distribution Center. "I think there's someone who needs a selling partner and I can't keep them waiting..."

[Jack Kelly]

So far, Jack thought as he took a seat next to Race on the distribution platform, there hadn't been anything remarkable about today. Three arguments had broken out, Mush stubbed his toe, Kid Blink threatened to throttle Snipeshooter, Skittery was complaining, Bumlets too Specs' glasses...and that was before they had left the lodging house that morning. Since they had gotten to the square, Jack had tallied up two more fights and four cents to Racetrack for suckering some passing school kids out of their pennies. But things were usually uneventful once the bell rang and they were waiting in line.

Jack shifted his thick stack of papers beside him and picked one up, flicking through it absently. He spotted a few headlines he could use - within the pages, so no one would look to closely before walking away - and glanced toward Race. He was skimming the racing pages, his lit cigar circling smoke from between his lips. "Gonna use any of 'em today?" he asked conversationally.

"Nah," Race replied without lifting his eyes. "I'm thinkin' I'll just pull somethin' outta my ass..."

Jack snickered at the response. Growing bored and not in the mood to sell yet, he watched the other newsies milling about. He could see Jake and Boots setting off together like the always did, and Snitch was getting into an argument with Weasel about the number of papes he'd asked for ("I said forty!" "Ya only paid for thirty!"). He caught sight of one of the girl newsies he'd learned the name of at some point...Dreamer, he thought, her name coming to him. She was inexperienced at best. Jack never really took the time to get to know her. In his opinion there were too many girl newsies running around anyway.

But he watched as Dreamer ran into someone Jack didn't recognize. It was strange...he could swear he'd be able to name any of his newsies on the spot. He squinted at the person, and although they were too far away for him to hear the conversation, it seemed awkward on both their parts. Jack finally focused on the boy's face. He thought he recognized it...

No. It couldn't be.

Jack's mind skipped back to the conversation him and his boys had at Tibby's just a day or two ago. Mush had brought up Mike Greaser, and Crutchy pointed out that day had been the two year anniversary of his departure. And now, here he was...no longer an old nightmare, no longer a threat long past. He was standing within the gates of the New York World building, and Jack felt his eyes connect with his.

Race had followed Jack's gaze. His jaw dropped. "Jack!" he exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "That can't be..."

Jack shushed him. "I think so. Keep it down, though, ya don't wanna scare everyone..."

"Scare everyone about what?" Crutchy asked, standing near where Jack and Race sat. Crutchy looked to where the others were looking and squinted. "What'cha lookin' at?" At this point other boys were gathering around, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Jack stood and shushed them all. Race followed suit, and Jack said, "Don't do nothin' boys. Ya hear me? Don't do nothin' yet. Just keep it down..."

But there was no way anyone could ignore the crowd of newsies standing around Jack on the distribution platform. Weasel yelled at them to hurry up and buy, but none of them listened. All their eyes were on Mike D. Greaser, and through all their minds, images of the past began to course through again. And Jack, for the first time, felt powerless to do anything about it.

[Mike D. Greaser]

Mike couldn't help but smirk as the girl rambled on about being a newsie. Of course, none of this would help him, it wasn't what he needed, but he still found it cute how much he intimidated her. And she didn't even know who he bloody was.

Suddenly, she took off behind him. He sighed and let her go. She wasn't going to be any help anyway. Maybe he would get back with her later. But for now, he needed to get out of here bef-

Silence. The once noisy newsies behind him, were now quiet. What the-

Mike whirled around to be faced by dozens of eyes. Staring. At him.. His eyes widened. This was not what he had planned. He wasn't prepared to meet them yet. He didn't want his presence known. What was he going to do?

He could just, fight now. No. That was idiotic. Yes, he hated them, but not that much. Him against them, not smart. He wasn't stupid. He knew he was outnumbered. He also knew they were a little sour about the past.

His mind swirled with ideas, last minute plans. He could use the girl, threaten them. No. He needed them to believe he was different. But what was he going to do? Saunter up to them and say hello? He couldn't do that. That would be bloody suicide.

They stood there for what seemed like hours, eye locked, waiting for the other to make a move. Mike was the first. He took of running. He cursed himself for being so cowardly, but he hadn't planned this. He didn't know what to do. He needed followers; it was to early to attack.

He sprinted down the street, praying they weren't going to catch up to him. What a great first impression.

He cursed himself for being a bloody fool and coming to the newsies hang out in the first place. He cursed the newsies. He cursed himself for talking to the girl. He cursed the girl. He cursed the pavement that his feet pounded on.

[Dreamer]

When Dreamer headed back into the Disibution Center, she noticed something.

Pure silence.

The ruckus of newsies buying their papers had vanished. Only Wiesel's shouting at them to buy and scatter was still heard.

But hardly anyone paid any attention to him. When Dreamer looked up, all the newsies around her were staring at something with the look of fear in her eyes. She looked toward Jack, Racetrack, Crutchy, and the others. They had the same look, but only discreetly. Slowly looking behind her, Dreamer saw what they were glaring at. The stranger.

He looked afraid too. But of what? Dreamer looked once more at the newsies around them. She realized that they were both standing in the middle of them, but all eyes were on the stranger. Dreamer may as well have been invisible to them.

When she looked back, Dreamer saw that he started to run. Now granted that Dreamer was a shy person. But she's also a very curious person. She didn't know what was going on, but it might've helped if she asked. And more than likely, this guy would know.

Dropping her 20 papers, Dreamer started to run after him, out of the Distribution Center, and onto the street. She looked around, until she caught a glimpse of him.

"Hey!" she shouted as best as she could. "Wait up! I just wanna talk to you!"

[Jack Kelly]

The boys watched as Mike suddenly took off running. Jack was shocked...he'd been expecting anything but that. No one really moved, even after that, remembering Jack's warning. Except for Dreamer...Jack could see her standing there like a moron, and then she took off running after Mike.

Jack couldn't believe it. Either Mike had made her a friend within the past half a minute, or she was just stupid. No one just decided to run after a guy like that without at least four other guys who had your back, and the intent to give the guy a good soaking. "The hell is she doing?" he exclaimed. He called after her, "Hey! Dreamer! Get the hell back here!"

"Hey! Wait up! I just wanna talk to you!"

"What'd she say?" Kid Blink exclaimed, incredulous. "She wants to talk to him?"

"She don't know!" Crutchy cried out. "She don't know about him!"

"Damn fool's gonna get herself killed..." Skittery spoke up from the back of the crowd. The others murmured in solemn agreement. Going after Mike Greaser was possibly the dumbest thing you could do in your life, and this girl was dumb for not knowing any better. Others spoke in her defense. She wouldn't know him from nobody, and what would she know about not trusting the guy?

Jack sighed. Although he knew it was better to do nothing, he couldn't just wait around while Mike roamed free around Manhattan and that kid Dreamer followed him. He thought on his feet, and resolved to do something. "A'right, I'm givin' orders so listen up. Race, you take the smaller fellas and try to get the Dreamer girl back someplace safe. Us older fellas...you'se are comin' with me to hunt down Mike Greaser. Divide up fast, and go when I give the order..."

The boys scrambled to opposite sides of the platform. There was only slight struggles as some insisted they should go with Jack, but were pushed to Race's side anyway. It ended up with Snipeshooter, Boots, Les, Crutchy, Itey, Jake and Swifty with Racetrack; and David, Skittery, Specs, Snitch, Kid Blink, Mush, Bumlets, Pie-Eater, Dutchy and Snoddy with Jack.

Satisfied at the outcome, Jack didn't hesitate in telling the two groups to go. They started out as one group, tearing down the street at different speeds, their eyes open for whoever it was they were following. Jack led the way down the street, looking around corners and through alleys, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mike. Racetrack, however, was pissed off. He didn't know where to go to look for the girl, and he was pretty much at a loss of what to do. But since everyone else was running like a bunch of maniacs, he decided he might as well, too...

[Mike D. Greaser]

Mike heard yelling behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The girl was coming after him! Turning his attention back to the street, Mike pushed his legs faster. He wouldn't be caught; he couldn't be!

People were just now getting up and heading to work. The streets were getting crowded. The crowds worked for and against Mike. They were helping him in the sense that he could hide easily and not be spotted, but they were also making it very difficult for Mike to get where he needed to be.

Mike grunted as he pushed and shoved through the crowd. Behind him, he could hear running footsteps. He continued to curse the world as he sprinted forward.

In his mind, Mike was arguing with himself. Half of him wanted to stop in his tracks and fight the newsies like a real man. But his other side was sensible and argued the fact that there was many more of them. If it wasn't for his sensible side, Mike would be turning around right now and fighting.

Mike knew it would be a lost cause, but he hated running. Running was so... cowardly. Running was not facing your problems. It was leaving them behind you for later. Running was not want Mike wanted to do. Ever.

But he couldn't bloody go back now! He would be dead in a matter of minutes. It wasn't a fair fight. If the newsies weren't so hostile, Mike would try to talk to them, but he knew they wouldn't listen. So instead of being the bad guy he wanted to be, Mike was running for his life.

Mike came to a sudden halt as he beheld the site in front of him. Three police officers were congregating in front of him. What the-

What if they spotted him? Mike couldn't take that chance. What if one of the newsies turned him in? The police officers might not believe them, but he just couldn't take that chance.

He glanced around him frantically, feeling more and more like a coward. There! To his right was an alleyway, which Mike hoped would lead to a hiding place. Ew, Mike hated the sound of that word. Hiding. It sound so... cowardly. Funny how much he was using that word...

He turned and quickly made his way into the alley, praying the newsies wouldn't see him. He was half way in the alley when he heard footsteps behind him. Swallowing hard, Mike turned around. He put on an emotionless mask, waiting for them to make their first move.

He was scared. Mike was scared. He valued his life. He was bloody scared.

{Dreamer, feel free to continue posting! It will be like two different stories happening at once}

[Dreamer]

Dreamer managed to find the stranger in an alleyway. She was out of breath from running so hard. Putting both of her hands on her knees, she caught her breath as much as she could. Man, how can this guy run so fast?

Taking another gulp of fresh air, Dreamer looked up to find the guy looking at her. He looked emotionless like before. Like he wasn't afraid of anything. Dreamer felt too tired at the moment to be afraid as she stood up straight.

"Look," she said softly, showing that she meant no harm. "I just want to know why they were all looking at you like that,"

[Anthony Higgins]

Racetrack was running at full steam, trying to keep up with the others while keeping an eye out for Dreamer. This was a one-time thing, he thought bitterly. Dreamer was an alright kid, but she couldn't expect the fellas to run looking for her every time she got herself into trouble. But this was more than just a little trouble, he thought. This was Mike D. Greaser, and he had proved that he was more than just a pain in the neck. He was capable of more than any of them could imagine, and who knew what he would do to Dreamer?

Finally, after several city blocks, Racetrack stumbled to a stop and doubled over, a hand pressed to the burning stitch in his side. He gasped and sputtered for breath as he heard the others rush by him. He heard Itey call to him as he passed, "We got it, Race!" and continue running. Race raised a hand to him, and continued his haggard breathing. He didn't expect those cigars not to catch up with him, but why now, at the worst possible time?

He was about to try and start off running again, but Dreamer's voice made him look around the street, trying to place it: "I just want to know why they were all looking at you like that." Race glanced around, and across the street he could see an open alley. From where he stood, he could almost see Dreamer standing in the entrance, and he didn't have any doubt that she was talking to Mike. What had possessed her, the crazy dame?

Race hurried back down the street before crossing. If Mike saw him coming full speed right across the street, he wouldn't have a prayer. Race had already decided what he would do. He could try and get Dreamer to find the fellas, and then soak Mike as best he could on his own. Mike might have been bigger, but Race harbored enough hatred for the former newsie that he knew he had a fighting chance.

Rounding the alley entrance, Race yelled, "Dreamer, find the fellas and bring 'em here!" Before anyone had time to react, he stalked over to Mike and sneered through grit teeth, "You'll think twice before showin' your face 'round here again..." Without a second thought, Race took a hard swing at Mike's jaw.

[Dreamer]

"Dreamer, find the fellas and bring 'em here!"

Dreamer turned around to find Racetrack coming in the alley. Fear rose up to her throat. He looked mad. Why?

"Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What's going on, Racetrack?"

Racetrack didn't listen to her. Instead, he just stalked up toward the stranger she was trying to talk to.

"You'll think twice before showin' your face 'round here again..."

When Dreamer heard the smack of a fist meeting a face, she stumbled back a bit in surprise. Racetrack had hit a complete stranger! Before she knew what she was doing, she had thrown herself between the stranger and Racetrack, trying to push Racetrack back, taking his shoulders in her hands, and struggling to hold him off.

"Racetrack!" she cried. "What are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Stop it!"

[Mike D. Greaser]

"I just want to know why they were all looking at you like that,"

Mike started, surprised to see that he had been pursued by the young girl from before. What was Jack, a bloody coward? Sending a tiny girl to do his talking. It was either that, or the girl was stupid. She obviously didn't know who he was. Smirking, Mike took a step toward her, challenging her. He challenged her to scream. He challenged her to try something on him.

He was surprised and amused at what she said. She wanted to know? Had Jack never informed his newsies of the man who almost took over the newsies? Mike was dissapointed.

"Well, I do believe that's none of your business.."

His sentence was barely out of his mouth before Racetrack appeared in the alleyway. Mike sighed, fully aware of where this was going. He held his hands up in defense and backed away. "Listen Race, we need to talk befo-"


"Dreamer, find the fellas and bring 'em here!"

Mike grimaced, not very happy about being in the situation. It showed weakness. He would not show bloody weakness. If he had to, Mike would fight back. Mike knew how to fight, no doubt, but he didn't want to fight all of the newsies, not untill he had some back up. Race approached him, eyes flaring.

"You'll think twice before showin' your face 'round here again..."

A sharp pain came to his jaw. No, not a sharp pain. A bloody awful pain. Mike staggered back. Shaking his head, Mike rubbed his jaw, already feeling the bruise. Mike grimaced, upset about how this was going to affect his looks.

Mike tried once more, probably in vain, to stop Race. "Racetrack, would ya just listen to me!?!" He was trying to sound truly genuine. He wanted Race to believe that Mike wanted to solve this with something other than violence. Which, at this, point he did.

[Dreamer]

As Dreamer struggled to get Racetrack to calm down, she ran through the events of what had happened so far in her mind. They kept on flashing in her head at a fast pace, but she always got a clear look at them. And still, she see's them in her head. When she asked the stranger why everyone back at the Distribution Center was looking at him with disgust, she remembered the look in his eyes.

He had a smirk on his face when she asked him as if to say "Boy are you the dumbest thing on the planet. Don't you know who I am?"

No, Dreamer didn't. And by the way he had taken a step toward her with that same mischevious grin on his face, she was slowly not wanting to. There was something in that smirk that had frightened her a bit.

"Well, I do believe that's none of your business.." he had said.

Dreamer had understood a bit, but had barely done so when Racetrack had started punching him.

Now here she was, still trying to calm him down.

"Racetrack!" she shouted. "Stop it right now! Jack! Specs! Anyone? Help!"

"Racetrack, would ya just listen to me!?!"

"See, Race? He just wants to...Wait a minute..."

Dreamer let go of Racetrack and stood back, looking back and forth between the two boys. A look of confusion and suspicion aroused in her face.

"You two know each other?" she asked, then turning to Racetrack. "If you know each other, then why would you punch him in the face? What is going on here?"

[Anthony Higgins]

"Racetrack! What are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Stop it!"

Dreamer started pulling at him. Race shrugged her off and cried out again, "Get outta here! Get the fellas! Just do it!" He knew he couldn't make Dreamer do anything, but if she knew what was good for her she would go out and find someone else. Jack, Kid Blink, anyone would do. Race knew that he wouldn't be able to take Mike down my himself, and it was crucial someone else knew he was here. Since Race couldn't exactly pick up and leave, Dreamer would have to play messenger. But she would have to wise up first. Race was tense with apprehension. If she didn't go, and Mike knocked him out...

"Racetrack, would ya just listen to me!?!"

"Bet you'd like that, ya grafter!" Race jumped at Mike, trying to strike him, but Dreamer was still holding on to him. "God dammit, Dreamer, get off me! Do what I told ya!" He pushed her off him as nicely as he could (which at the moment wasn't very) and rounded on Mike again. He swung out again, this time hoping to connect with the side of Mike's face. At this point he was asking for it, though. He knew as well as anyone how good of a fighter Mike was. And to get two lucky shots in was rare, if not impossible.

"Racetrack! Stop it right now! Jack! Specs! Anyone? Help!"

Race was becoming exasperated. "Dreamer! Quit bein' an idiot! Go get 'em!" She was just being ignorant, at this point, Race thought bitterly. If she was so keen on getting Jack or Specs in here, then she should run and go get them instead of standing there, yelling like a moron. With their luck, she'd catch the ear of the copper walking the beat and he'd cart all three of them off to the refuge.

"You two know each other? If you know each other, then why would you punch him in the face? What is going on here?"

Race aimed another punch at Mike's abdomen. "Get outta here, get the fellas, and I'll tell ya everythin' ya little heart wants ta know, a'right? Just do it!" It was getting increasingly harder to fight Mike on his own. And if Dreamer didn't wise up quick, Mike might have both of them on the floor in two minutes and walk out of here scot-free.

[Mike D. Greaser]

{Posting order: Jace, Mike, Dreamer}

"Racetrack! What are you doing?! Are you crazy?! Stop it!"

Mike watched as Dreamer pulled Racetrack away. Silently, he thanked her. Mike knew he could take on Racetrack; Mike was known for his fighting skills, but as soon as Dreamer went for the guys, Mike was done for. He was thankful for Dreamer and her delay.

"Get outta here! Get the fellas! Just do it!"

Racetrack blocked the alleyway entrance, trapping Mike in. Even if Racetrack wasn't blocking him from escaping, Mike wasn't sure if he would run. Even if he was going to get soaked, Mike still had some dignity. He wasn't about to give up now.

"Bet you'd like that, ya grafter!"

Race lunged toward Mike, but didn't get far because of Dreamer. Instinctively, Mike put up his fist, now in the fighting position. Forget talking, Mike was ready. Everything he was holding back earlier was ready to come out. A smirk played at his lips as he watched Race and Dreamer.

Racetrack threw Dreamer off of him and lunged at Mike, aiming for his face. Again. Mike blocked it easily with his right fist and threw a punch at Race's abdomen with his left.

Fighting was like an art form for Mike. It was a way to get all of his pent up anger out. It was his release. As Race and him fell in step with each other, Mike had to smile. He'd missed fighting. And he had to admit, Race was a good person to fight. He wasn't an exceptional fighter, but he definitely gave you a run for your money.

"Get outta here, get the fellas, and I'll tell ya everythin' ya little heart wants ta know, a'right? Just do it!"

Mike was glad that Race was distracted. Racetrack threw a hard punch at Mike's abdomen, missing by inches. Even if he missed him, Mike winced. That would have been one blow to your stomach. Mike silently prayed that Dreamer would stay here and be stubborn, it distracted Race. But then again he didn't. He wanted a fair fight.

Mike threw a punch at Race, missing by inches. Bloody fool, get your head in the game! Mike needed to stop letting his mind wonder and just focus. He was going to get soaked if he didn't get his head out of the clouds. Mind over matter.