Disclaimer- See Spot; see Spot run; see Spot be owned by Disney; see Shortie cry. Yeah, I don't own Spot, his cigarette, OR the Brooklyn Bridge. I also don't own Mischief- Tygerlily243 owns her. Thanx mushly for letting me use her!

L/N- Moooo. Moooo. MOOOOOO. Moo with me! Or just read my story, whatever rocks your socks. (Sorry, listening to RENT…) So yeah, still on my angst kick. This is a one shot (I think!) about Spot, cause I haven't even mentioned him yet and my Spot!Muse is about to eat me for it…

So I give you, with no further delay besides to say no further delay:

Something to Believe in

I saw the smoke before I saw him. Silvery-white, it drifted lazily skyward out of a cigarette which was currently between the lips of Spot Conlon. He was leaning over the railing of the bridge looking out over the water with a look of intense concentration on his face. He hadn't seen me yet.

"Hey Conlon," I walked over to him and grabbed the hat off of his head, placing it over my own dark hair. He jumped and turned around ready to fight, but he relaxed when he saw it was only me.

"What're youse doin' heah?" He snapped tossing the cigarette on the ground and crushing it beneath his foot.

"I'se could ask you the same question," I said, not missing a beat.

He took a deep breath and turned away from me, letting his gaze again rest on the smooth water. "I'se come heah to think sometimes," he said softly in a very un-Spot-like tone.

I joined him at the railing. "Feel like sharin'?"

"Not 'specially," he shook his head.

A few moments passed in silence. Above us, millions of stars dotted the pitch black sky and reflected in the water. There was such a big world out there; it really makes you feel small sometimes. I couldn't even count how many times I wished for this moment, to be alone with Spot Conlon- the number must have been close to the number of stars I was looking at now- but this was different than all the times I had imagined it. I was used to the loud, obnoxious leader-of-Brooklyn Spot, but this Spot was quiet, calm, and eerily serene.

I don't know how long it took me to realize he was staring at me.  "Do ya want me ta go?" I asked when I noticed he was. He didn't say anything, only nodded slightly. "Okay," I said sadly, "I'se'll jus' leave then."

I turned to leave but stopped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Mischief, don't leave me," Spot said in a choked voice.

"Spot, tell me what's wrong," I demanded. This wasn't right.

"I-I'se jus' don't want ta be alone," his voice cracked slightly, and if I wasn't mistaken there were tears in his eyes. He hastily wiped them away, probably thinking that I hadn't already seen them.

"Why are youse heah?" I asked him softly, moving to wrap my arms around his small shivering frame. He didn't make any move to push me away.

"I'se need ta- ta find somet'in'."

"Like what?"

"Jus' somet'in'… somet'in' ta believe in."

It hit me suddenly, like a train speeding into me at 90mph. It scared me; Spot was supposed to be the fortress; the one thing that kept the rest of us sane, stable, and alive. If Spot cracked, what would happen to the rest of us?

"You'se was gonna jump…" I said softly, not wanting to believe it. He only nodded. "Oh, Spot!" I cried wrapping my arms tighter around him and fighting the urge to start crying myself.

'Don't do dat," he muttered.

"Spot, you'se have everyt'in' ta believe in. How can ya not see dat?"

"Tell me one t'ing."

"You'se got awl of Brooklyn wrapped around youah little fingah, you'se got youah friends, who'd do anyt'in' foah you."

"But I don't. Mischief, everyt'ing's changed."

"You'se got me. I'se don't know if it means anyt'in' but I'm heah…"

He looked me directly in the eye, "Dat means a lot ta me, Mischief."

I couldn't help it anymore, the tears began to drip down my face. "So you'se gonna jump?" I was scared of his answer.

"No, not tanight," I sighed with relief. "But Mischief, don't mention dis ta anyone."

"I'se won't."

"I mean, I'se got a repitation ta hol' up."

I laughed through my tears. Spot wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "Come on, let's git back tad a lodgin' house."

I was practically floating. Tonight was quickly going from the worst to the best. Spot would live for at least a few more days- and he knew that I was always there- and he had his arm wrapped around me. Who knew what would happen now between us?

"Mischief?" Spot broke the silence.

"Yeah?"

"Give me back my hat."

~~~

Thank you Tygerlily243 for letting me use Mischief! Here have a Spot!Muse! *Hands Tygerlily243 a Spot!Muse* Sorry I didn't really use much of what you gave me in the profile, but the story didn't call for it.

And REVIEW!!!! You see that? An angsty fic with a happy ending… what will I think of next?

~Lexa~