For Brooklyn 2

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter One: Yes father

Summary: Spot is being forced to leave New York, but how will Brooklyn take it? How will Red...? One thing is for sure though. No one is going to let him go without a fight. (Sequel to For Brooklyn)

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: SECOND half of my first Newsie fic. -smile-

I am such a softie. I was going to make everyone wait, but I couldn't.

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"You don't get it, do you? Spot isn't just a newsie of Brooklyn. He is Brooklyn. He is the air that you breathe, the ground under your feet, the sky above your head, everything you see he has bled to protect, and you will, BY GOD, SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT!" - Red.

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Someone ran in the house then, chest heaving. It was a girl a little younger than Jack, it looked like, with honey colored hair pulled back from her face. When Spot saw her he froze, the laughter dying from his face. "Caroline." He whispered.

Red stood ramrod straight, gazing at her in barely restrained anger. "Whaddya want? You've no business 'ere!"

"Matthew..." She hardly seemed to care about the angry looks she was receiving or the snapped sentence from the tall redhead. "Mom and Dad want you home. We're leavin' New York and yer comin with us."

It was completely silent in the room, and then Spot's hand fell and his cane slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground with the sound of a gunshot, loud and echoing to the Brooklyn boy's ears. Never before had their leader's banner, the cane was their flag after all, hit the ground.

For if it ever did, it meant the fall of Brooklyn.

Red's anger flared and he stood in front of Spot, "Get outta 'ere! GO!" When the girl didnt move he took a threatening step forward, "Caroline, by god if you do NOT get away from me..."

Whether it was his voice or something in his eyes, the girl turned and ran, but not before snapping a, "Father expects you home tonight." The door slammed behind her like the sound of a cannon, loud and echoing.

Everyone was still, waiting with baited breath as Red turned, bending down softly to pick up the cane, holding it reverently in his hands. "Spot?" He murmurred, holding it out.

"Im not going back, Red." He murmured, acting as if they were the only ones in the room.

To his mind, they may very well have been.

"I know, kid." His eyes flashed emerald fire. "And I swear you're not going to."

Spot looked slightly shocked as his hand closed over the Brooklyn flag, just above his best friend's own. "Don't make promises you cant keep, Red."

"I swear it on Brooklyn, Spot. Im not letting them take you back there." He let go and Spot was left holding his cane, eyes widened slightly.

"Red, you cant mean dat..." To swear on one's land...was the greatest they knew.

"I do, and I will keep my word."

"Your word is your greatest treasure, kid. Don't use it lightly, but don't use it sparingly either. A man is only as good as his word, remember that."

This was the first time Red had ever sworn anything to him. And never, ever, on Brooklyn. He was serious, and when Red was serious...

He ended up getting himself hurt.

Which was why Spot snuck out of the safe-house that night.

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"THAT IDIOT!"

Jack jumped ten feet in the air, hitting his head on the top of the bunk in his haste to get up and see what the problem was. He expected a fire at least, green men from Mars perhaps, but not a frantic Red standing next to Spot's neatly made bed, a note clenched in his fist.

"Wha...?" David asked, head poking out from the top bunk, "Whats all...the racket...?"

"THAT IDIOT LEFT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREAKING NIGHT!"

"Which idiot?" Race moaned as he threw his pillow at Red, a feeble blow that the latter easily blocked.

"SPOT!"

"Why couldn't it have been you?" He muttered, pulling the blanket back up over his head. "Someone up there hates me, I swear."

"What do you mean Spot's gone?" David jumped down from the top, landing on his feet and taking the note from the other, scanning the hurried letter quickly. It was simple.

'I've gone back, Red. Please forgive me, but I couldn't stand it if you got hurt again for my sake. Signed, Spot.' The dark haired newsie's head snapped up, "Red...What are you going to do...?"

"What do ya think?" He began to pull on some pants, throwing a shirt over his shoulders, "Im going to go get him back."

Even Race sat up then. "You just got over being SHOT!"

"Your point, Race, being what?"

"That you have recently been SHOT!"

Rolling his eyes, Red moved toward the door. It was still dark out, Spot couldn't have left that long ago. "Wait." Jack rolled out of bed, "Im going with you."

"Me too." David pulled on his boots.

Race moaned as he swung his legs over the side, "Yeah, im comin too."

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Jake Conlon stood at the window, his sharp beady eyes looking far out across the dark street. He knew the kid was coming, there was no way he was going to disrespect him now, he wouldn't challenge a direct order.

He had taught Matthew that at an early age.

You always respected your elders.

He could remember it well enough, the day his son had left. A tall red headed kid had walked right in the house as if he owned it, told him that he was taking Matthew away, and that had been it. Jake hadn't been worried in the slightest. He knew Matthew would return, and sure enough, there he was now, standing in the doorway.

A smirk touched his lip, "Welcome home, Matthew. I hope you're ready for your punishment?"

Spot let out a soft breath, "Yes father." He walked in the house and stood in front of his father obediently. His head flew to the side with the first blow and he had to fight down the urge to not fight back.

He had learned that fighting back only made the punishment hurt more.

He had also learned that after the first ten blows it no longer mattered, his father would lose control or he wouldn't. It all depended on how much alcohol he had consumed or how angry he was. The way it was going...

Spot would be lucky if he could walk tomorrow.

A slight whimper slid from his lips as his father tore his belt off of his pants, doubling it up in his fist. "Boy, you know what to do."

"Yes father." Spot murmurred, turning his back and letting his shirt fall. He bit his lip and hoped he was stronger than last time. He didnt want to give him the satisfaction of a scream.

When the first slinging welt raised on his back, in-between his shoulder blades, Spot ducked his head, teeth clamping down so hard he tasted blood. His skin was still tender from the fall from the warehouse, and now...It felt like he was on fire.

After five, he started to plead.

At ten, he begged.

At twenty, he just screamed.

It stopped at thirty, leaving Spot a trembling, huddled mass on the floor. His legs had given out somewhere between twenty and twenty five, so the last five had been extra hard, tearing his skin so bad blood was staining his shirt.

"Pitiful." Jake snapped, "You're pitiful, you know that?"

"Yes father."

He snorted, throwing the belt in the corner of the room. "Go spend the night with those orphans you call family and tomorrow be here bright and early, you hear me?"

Spot ducked his head, "Yes father."

"Get out of my sight."

"Yes father."

Spot ran until he couldn't run anymore and he stumbled up against a building, his legs buckling so that he slid down to his knees, arms wrapped around his stomach. He felt like he was going to be sick. Just being in that man's presence made him nauseous.

"Those orphans you call family."

"I wish they were." He whispered, laying his head against the wet stone of the home he was leaning against. It had started to rain while he had been receiving his punishment and now the rain water was dripping onto the welts, making him hiss in pain and squeeze his eyes shut.

"I wish they were my family...Anything is better than you..."

"We are your family, Spot." Arms wrapped around him gently, comforting.

Why wasn't the youth surprised? He leaned back against Red, head burrowed against his wet shirt."Im sorry, im so sorry, Red. Forgive me, please forgive me."

"Shh, Spot..." He murmurred, "There's nothing to forgive."

Jack and David stood off to the side, rain dripping down their faces. They had seen this before, but Race, who was slightly behind them, had not. His eyes were wide as he looked at Spot, the broken Spot kept locked deep inside, never shown to the world.

For the world wouldn't understand.

Deep red welts showed clear on his back, skin torn in some places where the belt buckle had snagged and ripped. He looked so small as Red picked him up, so tiny and fragile, but at the same time, his eyes were still that fire burning silver blue, clear as ever, and looking straight at him. A shiver ran down his back just as Spot turned his face against Red, eyes hidden.

Race got a new understanding of the word 'Leader' that day.

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Okay- me thinks this one needs an updating schedule...

Two updates a week work for you guys? Lets say..Tues. and Thurs.?