A/N: I honestly have no idea what this is…It started out as a Spavid one-shot and then turned into, well, this…

"Jacky-boy."

Jack froze, turned to see Spot leaning idly against the side of a building, passing his cane back and forth between his hands. To the untrained observer, he would have appeared casual, disinterested, but Jack knew Spot well enough to tell that the Brooklyn boy's neutral expression masked several emotions, all of which he was carefully holding in check.

"Spot," was all Jack said.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day you turned into a scabber." Spot pushed off the wall with his foot and started walking alongside Jack. "Quite a surprise."

"Kind've a surprise to me too," Jack admitted.

Spot huffed a laugh, but there was no humor behind it. He was making a point of not looking at Jack, instead concentrating fiercely on the ground on which they were walking. Jack bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to distract himself from the extremely uncomfortable tension radiating between the two of them.

Jack hated apologizing, but the tension was getting to him. "Look, Spot…" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm sorry."

It was a while before Spot spoke again. "Doesn't really upset me too much, Jacky-boy."

"Still."

"Hey, honestly, Jack? I ain't the one you should be sayin' sorry to, okay?" Spot stopped walking and turned to face Jack. "You let a lot of people down. They need an apology more than I do. Especially Dave."

Jack had to look away. When he turned his head back, he saw Spot looking at him with incredulous disdain. "I can't believe you'd hurt him like that."

"I did this to protect him," Jack muttered.

"And he didn't deserve to know that?"

"I…figured he wouldn't've understood."

"That's bullshit." Spot's eyes flared with anger. "You was just thinkin' about yourself, as always. Who cares what happens to other people as long as Jacky-boy's got what he wants, huh?"

"You know that ain't true, Spot," Jack grunted, glaring at the shorter boy. "You know I care about him. Feel the same way about him that you do. If you'd been in my place you would've done the same thing."

"Wrong. I would've told him why I was givin' up."

"I didn't give up."

"It looks like you did. They all think you did."

"Why are you really here, Spot?" Jack glared at him. "Why? You here to tell me I blew it? Remind me that any chance I may've had with him is gone? 'Cause I don't need reminding."

"I'm here to tell you that they way you're actin' is stupid and selfish." Spot folded his arms and returned Jack's steely gaze. "Just because he doesn't feel the same way about you that you do about him isn't a reason to hurt him. To act like you don't give a damn."

"Easy for you to say. He likes you. And you like him." Jack sniffed derisively. "So you ain't in any position to be passin' judgement."

"So he deserves to suffer just 'cause he can't return your feelings?"

"No, that's…not it…I." Jack sighed and hung his head. "It hurts less this way."

"And what about Dave, hmm? You think it hurts less for him, too?"

Before Jack could reply, a piercing scream reached his ears. "Stop it! Leave him alone!"

Spot and Jack both froze at the sound of an all-too-familiar voice. Sarah. Sarah screaming, her tone shrill and panicked and scared.

The boys exchanged a fleeting glance before taking off, racing through the crowded street like lunatics, their argument forgotten. Jack knew the "him" Sarah was yelling about had to be David or Les, and if either of them was in trouble…He remembered what Morris had said that morning, about David, and ran faster.

They turned around a corner and Jack saw several figures in an alleyway up ahead. Oscar and Morris. Hitting David. Hurting him. That was not acceptable.

Jack lunged at Morris, knocking him aside and landing a couple of right hooks on his jaw before kicking him right between his legs and almost throwing him onto the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spot drag Oscar away from David and slam him into the wall of the alley.

Morris had already taken off, but Oscar was still pinned against the bricks, with an angry Spot Conlon inches away from his face.

"You ever mess with him again, and I'll make it so that they never find your body," Spot growled as Oscar looked at him with terrified eyes. Jack couldn't remember ever seeing Spot like this – usually his anger was so controlled and restrained, but right now…Spot looked like he was ready to kill Oscar. Any doubts Jack may have had about how deeply Spot cared for David vanished as he saw the protective fury blazing in the blond's eyes.

"Now get out've here before I decide to rearrange your face." Spot shoved Oscar down and watched him scurry away like a kicked puppy, the reaction putting a wry smile on Spot's face.

Jack's first instinct was to check on David, but he made himself go to Sarah instead, helping her to her feet and patting her back reassuringly as she hugged him. Glancing over, he saw Spot helping David up. The two boys looked like they were going to embrace – Spot's hands remained entwined with David's even after the brunet was on his feet, and if their angled faces had been any closer together they would have practically been kissing. "You okay, Mouth?" Jack heard Spot say, and there was a tenderness in the Brooklyn boy's voice that Jack hadn't heard since Spot had broken things off with him.

David nodded shakily, and the deep worry that had been on Spot's face vanished. Mostly vanished, anyway; the concern was still there in his eyes as he looked David up and down. "Those jerks didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"

"No," David exhaled, smiling a little (a smile that was meant totally for Spot, Jack realized with a pang of envy). "Just my pride."

"Hey, bein' humble's a good thing."

"Look who's talking." They grinned warmly at each other, and Spot lightly brushed a smudge of dirt of David's jaw. David didn't seem to mind.

Jack made himself look away.