DICLAIMER: Newsies does not belong to me. It belongs to Disney.
NOTE: This is a Newsies challenge thing I found by NewsgirlXRider and I decided to do it. It was actually due yesterday, so I don't think I'll win anything...if there is anything...oh well, better late then never. The begining is sort of confusing, but I hope it will make sense at the end of the story.
It's a cool night in the city of Brooklyn. Most people are quickly and quietly passing through the area where a large building once stood. The place was known as a gathering point for most of the orphan newsies from different parts of the area. A week nights ago, a fire broke out with out any trace of how it started and who started it. Unfortunately, there was a large meeting for some of the boys and very few were able to make it out. The only person not avoiding the burnt remains was a tall, young boy, who stood right where the entrance would have been. He stood there, staring blankly at the dark pieces. He lowered his head and sighed.
"It's my fault," he thought bitterly to himself. "If I hadn't started that stupid argument, and listened to Twitch, then we all could have been safe at our bunk houses." He rubbed his eyes with his right hand. "It's all my fault…"
"Ricky?" the boy quickly looked up and scowled at the young boy walking over to him. The boy looked about ten or eleven, he was tall and scrawny for his age though. He wore a red bandanna around his neck, and a rope around his waist like a belt. Ricky faced the boy and pulled out a knife.
"What do you want Cowboy?" he snarled. Cowboy narrowed his eyes but kept coming closer.
"I just needed to talk to you…" Cowboy said.
"You know Manhattan and Brooklyn are at war with each other! I should kill you here right here and now!" Ricky snapped. Cowboy stopped in front of Ricky and folded his arm.
"Go ahead," Cowboy smirked. "I dare you. But you'll have a lot of regret if you do."
"Oh yeah?" Ricky clenched his knife tighter, debating whether to strike or not.
"Yeah, because first off you feel like you've already done enough damage." Ricky loosened his grip and stared at the boy.
"How…how do you…" he stuttered.
"Your arm I guess," Cowboy pointed at his left arm. Ricky glared at the smaller boy before lifting his left arm, which only went down to his elbow. The rest of his hand and arm was missing. "I figured that you are still upset that you killed your arm that night when…"
"I'm not mad about my arm!" Ricky snapped, quickly placing the tip of the blade on Cowboy's neck. He flinched. "I don't give a damn about this stupid thing! What I do give a damn is that millions of boys died here all because of your stupid leader!" Cowboy held the older boy's hand.
"Easy Rick…I'm sorry," Cowboy whispered. "It's just that Duke sent me to give you someone." Ricky's face went from anger to confusion. He lowered his knife.
"Give me someone?"
"Yeah, a little boy about eight came into the bunk house asking for you," Cowboy chuckled. "Real quiet kid though…went right up to Racetrack and asked for the Brooklyn boss. Racetrack laughed and went to go find me and Duke. Duke told me to come drop off "Brooklyn's rubbish" back where it belonged." Ricky growled.
"What the…" he shook his head. "Where is this kid?" Cowboy smiled.
"I'll go get him," he said sniggering. "You'll like this one." Cowboy turned and ran back a few feet before stopping. He was talking to someone and then he led a small figure of the darkness of the shadows. Ricky narrowed his eyes.
"That's doesn't look like an eight year old…" Once Cowboy was close enough, he stopped and pushed the boy in front of him.
"Go ahead kid," he smirked. The small boy looked at Cowboy and then at Ricky, glaring at both. Ricky let out a small gasp and took a step back. The boy took a step forward and tried to size him up.
"Oh shit…" Ricky whispered. Cowboy's smirk vanished when he saw Ricky kneeling down on one knee and looking at the boy right in the eyes. Ricky started inspecting the boy very carefully. He lifted a shinny object from around the boy's neck. The boy glared at Ricky and then slapped his hand away.
"Mine!" the boy spat. Ricky ignored Cowboy's scoff and continued to stare at the small boy. Then Ricky shot up and grabbed Cowboy's shirt with his right hand.
"You didn't hurt this kid did you?" Ricky growled. Cowboy tried to pry his hand off his shirt, but showed no sign of fear.
"No, I swear we didn't do anything to him," Cowboy said. The boy came up to Cowboy and kicked him hard on the left shin. "OW!" Ricky let Cowboy go, and watched as he fell to the ground and clutched his shin. "Stupid, little, beast!" He muttered a curse under his breath and tried to get up. Ricky tripped him down again and stepped on his chest.
"You tell Duke that if he ever dares to cross Brooklyn again, he's gonna pay. You understand that?" Ricky hissed. Cowboy growled.
"Yeah, yeah, sure." Ricky let him go and Cowboy got up. He limped away a few steps before turning back with a sly smile on his face. "Same goes with Brooklyn."
"Who gave you the right to threaten Brooklyn?"
"Duke did. I'm his new second in command."
Ricky kicked the dirt as he watched Cowboy limp away. He looked back at the small boy and smiled. He glared back at him.
"That was a nice kick," the taller boy chuckled. The small boy didn't soften his gaze. His ice blue eyes were hard against Ricky's hazel eyes. "Never met a such a little kid with such a strong force." Silence. "Where you from kid?" The small boy looked away. "Not much of a talker?" Nothing. Ricky sighed and kneeled down to the kid's level. The kid glared at him from the corner of his eye.
"Hey, listen," Ricky said gently. The boy glared directly at his face. "I know what you're going through ok? And I'm really sorry." His glare softened.
"You do?" he asked in a small voice. Ricky nodded. The boy stared at the floor. "I was trying…to find my brother…Patrick. He's my only family left I think…" He looked up at Ricky. "Are you my brother? Those jerks with the cowboy and gambler said you were him."
"Sorry kid. My name is Richmond," Ricky sighed. The boy stared at the ground again. "But I also lost my brother. And do you know why I know what your going through?" The boy shook his head. "Your face was on the newspaper a month ago. No body knows where you've been hiding for this whole time." The boy's head shot up and he had a terrified look in his eye.
"You're not gonna take me back to those guys are you?!" He started to cry a little. "Please don't! Please, please, please! I don't want to go back! I want to find my brother! I don't want to have a new family! I want my brother!" Ricky placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, then he pulled him into an awkward hug.
"Hey, hey," he tried to comfort him while the boy sobbed and tried to push him away. "No, I'm not taking back. You're too small and smart for them anyways." The boy stopped trying to push away and just clung onto Ricky. His sobs got a little louder and he began to whimper. Ricky rubbed the small boy's back and thumped it softly a few times. "It's ok. It's ok…I won't let them get you."
Ricky lifted the small boy up and held him close. The boy didn't stop though, he still sounded miserable. Ricky was known as one of the toughest and heartless leaders around, and if anyone had seen him holding this boy they would be shocked. Ricky looked up at the sky and started to walk home.
"Tell you what?" Ricky whispered to the boy, just loud enough for him to hear. "I have a group of boys that I live with. There's not a lot of them, but enough to keep you safe from those guys. Do you want us to protect you? Do you want to be a newsy? Does that sound good?"
The boy, still sniffling, asked, "W-what's a n-newsy?" Ricky pretended to have a shocked look on his face.
"What's a newsy?" He said, sounding shocked. "What's a newsy? My goodness! This boy doesn't know what a newsy is!" The boy smiled a little. "A newsy is a group of boys who sell papers to a bunch of people. We never know what to expect, or what we'll find, or what we'll eat. Sure most days are hard, but then we have each other to watch over each other."
"So…you'd keep me safe?" the boy asked. Ricky nodded, then he stopped and placed the boy down. The boy looked up at Ricky as he spit in his right hand and placed it over his heart.
"Kid," Ricky said to him. "I swear on the grounds of Brooklyn that I, Richmond Peter Carter, will keep you…" Ricky paused. "What's your name?"
The boy blinked and said "Shawn Conlon." Ricky swallowed.
"I, Richmond Peter Carter, promise to keep Shawn Conlon safe from any harmful people that may come his way from here on out. I will mentor and care for him as though he were my own brother, and if I am to break any of this promise, so help me God, I will be struck dead." Ricky lifted the boy back up again and continued walking.
"I guess you're ok…you can be my brother," the small sniffed. Ricky kept walking and looked down at the boy. His eyes were drooping.
"You look so small," Ricky joked. "Not small enough to be a dot, but not big enough to be a blob." The boy looked up at him sleepily.
"So kind of like a spot?" He asked. Ricky nodded.
"Yeah…like a spot…" Ricky kept walking until he heard deep breathing from the boy. Ricky smiled to himself. "Spot Conlon…" Ricky stopped and held him a little closer.
"I'm so sorry Spot," he muttered. "If only you knew the truth…maybe you will later, but not while you're so small…" Ricky shook his head.
"I promise I will tell you the truth when you're older," Ricky thought as he made his way back to the bunk house. "You're too small to understand…but I promise I will tell you…even if it kills me…"