Hey all! Rosey here! So I know I have WAY too many other fics going on right now, but I woke up one morning and this wrote itself. So I figured I might as well publish it! Never fear, my other fics aren't dead, they're just on a little break due to a drama camp I'm volunteering at, which takes up most of my time. I hardly found the time to type this up! So I hope you all enjoy this ficlette and keep an eye out for updates on the others soon:)
Disclaimer: Not Dickens, not Disney, not Elijah Wood, not Alex Trench, not famous. Oh, and part of this is based off the amazing, lovely, and hilarious Boy Meets World episode "Eric Hollywood." If you love BMW, like me, I highly suggest you watch that episode on YouTube. It's hysterical.
When Charley Bates woke up that early Wednesday morning, he knew something was very wrong, mostly because it was oddly quiet. So Master Bates, being the curious type, got up much faster than he would usually have done and looked about him.
He was surprised to find most of the other boys were already off to work, and he couldn't help but wonder why Fagin let him sleep in so late. And thus Charley wondered if perhaps the old man had kicked the bucket during the night, and, fearing this was the case, he hurried over to Fagin's corner and peeped behind the curtain.
"Good morning, my dear!" Fagin's grinning face beamed at him the second he looked behind the curtain. Yelping in surprise, Charley leapt back and tried to catch his breath.
"Lordy, Fagin, you scared me to death!" Charley mumbled, crossing his arms.
"Fagin?" Fagin blinked in surprise. "No, no my dear. My name's Schmagin. Reverend Schmagin, to be precise. I 'ope you've said your prayers this morning?"
Charley blinked for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "Umm...No..."
"Why, my son, you ought to get on that!" Fagin...I mean...Schmagin scolded. "And then get ready to go out on the job."
"I'm always ready to pick a pocket," Charley said, still confused.
"Picking pockets!" Schmagin gasped. "Why, that's an awful art! No, no, my boy, you're going to go out and teach the importance of friendship and love to all the little pauper children in the streets!"
Charely blinked yet again before shaking his head. "I think you must've 'it yer 'ead in the night Fa..er...Schmagin."
"No, no I'm afraid I didn't," Schmagin looked worried for his protege. "But you might have, son. Calling me Fagin...Saying we pick pockets...Are you sure you're alright?"
"No," Charley shook his head, looking at the new Fagin before him with confusion and a little fear. "I'm not sure."
That's when Charley saw Dodger over on his own bunk, his knees curled up to his chest and his head tilted down. Ah! Charley thought. He must 'ave already met 'Schmagin' and be as terrified as I am! And so, he ran over to Dodger's cot.
"Dodger!" he called, hurrying over. "Have you met 'Schmagin'?"
Dodger looked up, his eyes wide and his face scared. "Why'd you call me Dodger? My name's Roger." His voice was soft and nervous.
Charley groaned. "Oh no, not you too!"
"Why are you yelling at me?" Dodger...er...Roger whimpered, drawing his knees closer to him. "You know sometimes I get shy. People who aren't shy make me nervous."
"'Ey!" Suddenly the front door to the hideout slammed open, and a very angry looking Nancy stood in the doorway.
"Oh no it's 'er," Roger squeaked, huddling into an even tighter ball.
"Wot, Nancy? I thought you liked Nance!" Poor Charley was beyond confused.
"Why do you keep messing up names?" Roger asked in shy worry. "Did you 'it your 'ead or somethin'?" He gasped, backing away from Charley. "I'm sorry that sounded mean. Please don't yell at me!"
"I'm not gonna yell at you Dodg-Roger. Just...Okay, wot's 'er name, then?" Charley tried to keep his voice quiet for Roger.
"Lancey," Roger whispered, blinking in fear as Nanc...Lancey...Stomped her way angrily through the hideout. When she got too close to Roger, he grabbed his blanket and threw it over his head. "Tell me when she's gone!" he whimpered from under the sheet.
"Lancey, love?" Another voice came from the door and Bill Sikes entered, and his face looked different from how Charley had ever seen it before. It was kind looking and gentle, and he held a bouquet of daffodils in his hands.
Lancey turned around, glaring at him. "Wot is it, Will?"
Bill...I mean Will...Gently held out the flowers to her. "These are for you, love. I 'ope yer like 'em. I worked 'ard to-"
"Will! These are 'ideous! You know I likes roses!" Lancey growled, tossing the bouquet aside. "Just stand there and look pretty. Let me do all the talkin'."
"Yes, dear," Will ducked his head, taking a step back.
This was too much for Charley and he burst out laughing. "Alrigh', this is a trick ain't it? Ya'll decided to trick ol' Charley-"
"Do I look like the kinda person 'o would play along in a trick, buster?" Lancey shouted, stomping angrily over to him.
"Oh no you made 'er mad," Roger sniffled from under his blanket. He peeped over the corner of it, looking with wide, terrified eyes at Lancey. "Make the yellin' stop," he whimpered, biting his fingernails nervously.
"Oh, hush it, Roger," Lancey rolled her eyes, walking back over to Will.
"'Elp me!" Roger begged Charley pitifully.
It was then that Charley noticed Oliver, entering from the still open hideout door. Maybe 'e'll know wot's goin' on! Charley thought hopefully. And thus he raced over to the kid.
"Oliver! Do you know wot's goin' on?"
"'Ey, fool, why you callin' me Oliver?" Oliver's voice was five octaves lower, and had somehow turned Cockney over night.
"Oh, no, not you too! Lemme guess, yer name's Moliver or somethin'?"
The Oliver-Who-Wasn't blinked. "No. That'd be stupid. They call me..." He looked up dramatically. "Rock."
"No, just Rock. Says it all, don't it?" Oli...Rock asked proudly, gesturing to his still-Oliver-looking-self. Not rock like at all, but Charley was too confused and freaked out to argue.
"'Ey Roger!" Rock called out, intentionally making his voice rough and loud. "'Ow ya doin' this mornin', mate?"
"Make it stop, make it stop!" Roger whined, rocking back and forth on his cot anxiously, his hands clapped over his ears.
"Now, now Rock," Schmagin scolded gently. "Be nice to your fellow men. Treat them, as you would like to be treated."
Will had gone over and was trying to comfort Roger, patting him on the back gently and saying "It's okay, Rog. The yellin's stopped. It's alrigh'."
Charley could only stare. This was too much. Bill Sikes? Comforting a shy and scared Dodger? Who got scared by Oliver? It was beyond strange and Charley decided he missed the old gang, even if he wouldn't mind replacing Bill with Will. It would make life so much easier.
"Will! Stop bein' nice to Roger and come over 'ere!" Lancey demanded. Will instantly scurried over to her.
"Sorry, love," he mumbled apologetically.
"Ugg, wotever," Lancey rolled her eyes.
Schmagin shook his head, closing his eyes. "Oh Father, 'elp this couple to be 'appy together!" he prayed aloud.
"And 'elp me get outta 'ere," Roger added quietly.
"Amen to tha'," Lancey grumbled.
Charley groaned, going back over to his cot and pulling his blanket over his head. This was just too much.
"Is 'e alrigh'?"
"Charley, mate, can ya 'ear me?"
"I think 'e's comin' to."
Charley groaned, blinking awake. His head was throbbing and he winced, grabbing his skull. When his vision cleared, he found himself laying on his cot, Fagin, Dodger, Nancy, and Oliver looking down at him.
"'Ey, mate!" Dodger grinned, relief in his not-at-all-shy voice. "You 'it yer 'ead pretty 'ard! You alrigh'?"
"Roger!" Charley gasped, sitting up.
"Roger? 'Ow 'ard did you 'it yer head exactly? I'm Dodger. Remember?" the Artful one looked down at his friend in worry.
"Dodger..." Charley blinked, nodding. "Yeah, I thought so." He then faced Oliver, Fagin, and Nancy. "I 'ad the weirdest dream, mates. And you were there, and you were there, and you were there!" he mumbled in surprise, pointing to each of them in turn.
"Well, me dear," Fagin said. "If yer alrigh', it's time to go out and pick pockets."
"And I'd better get 'ome to Bill. 'E's in one of 'is moods," Nancy said softly, a small smile on her face. She squeezed Charley's hand sweetly before hurrying out.
"Come on, mate!" Dodger beamed, helping Charley up. "Let's go redistribute the wealth!"
Oliver, being true to his character, was crying for no apparent reason and then fainted.
Charley sighed, and then smiled, following Dodger out of the hideout. "There's no place like 'ome."
Well? I was watching the "Eric Hollywood" episode and this one-shot just kinda came out! What do you think? Liked it? Hated it? Constructive criticism is welcomed, but no flames please! They will be used to roast yummy marshmallows.