Disclaimer-I don't own the musical 'Newsies,' Disney does. I do own Laura.
The day I met Spot Conlon was cold and it was raining. He was swaggering down the street, in all his King of Brooklyn glory. His blue eyes met my own gray for a moment and he smirked. I smiled and tossed my black hair over my shoulder. He stopped.
"Heya goily. Whatcha doin outside?" He asked, raising his voice over the wind.
"I don't really have anywhere to go...I'm Laura."
"I'm Spot. Youse can come wit me if ya need somewhere ta stay but it'll cost ya..."
I shrugged. I had money and I wasn't partial to leaving this blue- eyed, regal, King of a boy. "I've got money."
"C'mon. Follow me." He took my arm and began to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. His breathing was sharp, shallow, and labored.
"Spot is it? Are you alright?" I glanced over him and noticed a bloody stain on the side of his shirt. "What happened?"
"I got in a fight. I'll be fine. Just follow me an' shut up."
I clamped my mouth shut and followed him into a building. About 40 boys sat in the front room and they all became quiet when Spot walked in. "Heya boys..." He choked as he stumbled up the steps. A boy with blonde hair and green eyes followed him.
"Spot...?" He whispered. I had followed them both. "Nickolai?"
Nickolai? So Spot did have a real name!
"Spot! It's Dark. C'mon out!"
I mumbled, "He's hurt."
Dark looked up. "Hurt?"
"Yeah."
He opened the door on his own. Spot was lying on the floor blood pouring from his side. Dark's green eyes widened. "Spot!"
I knelt next to him. "Get me some clean clothes and hot water! Now!" Dark scampered out the door and returned about ten minutes later with the required items. I tugged Spot's shirt over his head and examined the gaping slice in his side. "Switchblade..." I dipped a cloth in the hot water and cleaned the blood off him.
After I had cleaned the lesion, I wrapped it and had Dark help me put Spot on his bed. "Do you think he'll be awright?" Dark asked.
"I don't know. We have to wait and find out. Why are you so worried about him?"
"He's me cousin. Me only family left. Me muddah an' faddah died in a fire...Spot's been takin care a' me for two years now."
I ached for the two boys' problems. My own were far easier. My family had abandoned me in New York. I didn't have to deal with pain. I hated them, and they hated me. Simple as that.
Spot groaned. "Dimitry?" He voice was barely audible. Dark smiled
"Yeah I'm heah Nick."
"Did you clean me up by yaself?!" He opened his eyes slowly.
"Nah. Dis goil did most of it."
"Goil? Penny? Dusty? Docks?"
"Nah. I dunno her. Da one dat came in wit you taday."
"Laura."
"She saved ya life."
"Yeah she did."
"It really wasn't anything..." I whispered.
"I'll name her, Spot! Can I?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"How 'bout...Angel?"
I smiled. "Alright."
My life changed significantly that day. Spot Conlon owed me and that put me at the top of the food chain. I had gone from worthless to power in one day and above that, I had a new best friend.
Spot had taken me under his wing like a helpless puppy. He taught me to sell and fight. To be street smart, witty, and above all...a true Brooklyn newsie.
It had been exactly four months since my first run in with him that I finally realized why he was feared. He wasn't afraid to hurt someone...even himself.
We were sitting on the side of a street and it was a hot humid day. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and I caught sight of them. Thin, pearly, white scars that laced up his forearm. "Spot! What are those?!"
He glanced down. "Those...dey'se just some scars..."
"What are they from?"
"Me. It was a while ago Angel. Calm down. I would nevah do it again."
I frowned. "You promise."
"I promise. Awright?"
It was scary to know he was capable of something like that. If he had wanted himself dead then, what made me believe him that he wouldn't again? I don't know. But I did.
A/N-This isn't a one shot so if you read, please review. I'll get chapter two up ASAP.
The day I met Spot Conlon was cold and it was raining. He was swaggering down the street, in all his King of Brooklyn glory. His blue eyes met my own gray for a moment and he smirked. I smiled and tossed my black hair over my shoulder. He stopped.
"Heya goily. Whatcha doin outside?" He asked, raising his voice over the wind.
"I don't really have anywhere to go...I'm Laura."
"I'm Spot. Youse can come wit me if ya need somewhere ta stay but it'll cost ya..."
I shrugged. I had money and I wasn't partial to leaving this blue- eyed, regal, King of a boy. "I've got money."
"C'mon. Follow me." He took my arm and began to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. His breathing was sharp, shallow, and labored.
"Spot is it? Are you alright?" I glanced over him and noticed a bloody stain on the side of his shirt. "What happened?"
"I got in a fight. I'll be fine. Just follow me an' shut up."
I clamped my mouth shut and followed him into a building. About 40 boys sat in the front room and they all became quiet when Spot walked in. "Heya boys..." He choked as he stumbled up the steps. A boy with blonde hair and green eyes followed him.
"Spot...?" He whispered. I had followed them both. "Nickolai?"
Nickolai? So Spot did have a real name!
"Spot! It's Dark. C'mon out!"
I mumbled, "He's hurt."
Dark looked up. "Hurt?"
"Yeah."
He opened the door on his own. Spot was lying on the floor blood pouring from his side. Dark's green eyes widened. "Spot!"
I knelt next to him. "Get me some clean clothes and hot water! Now!" Dark scampered out the door and returned about ten minutes later with the required items. I tugged Spot's shirt over his head and examined the gaping slice in his side. "Switchblade..." I dipped a cloth in the hot water and cleaned the blood off him.
After I had cleaned the lesion, I wrapped it and had Dark help me put Spot on his bed. "Do you think he'll be awright?" Dark asked.
"I don't know. We have to wait and find out. Why are you so worried about him?"
"He's me cousin. Me only family left. Me muddah an' faddah died in a fire...Spot's been takin care a' me for two years now."
I ached for the two boys' problems. My own were far easier. My family had abandoned me in New York. I didn't have to deal with pain. I hated them, and they hated me. Simple as that.
Spot groaned. "Dimitry?" He voice was barely audible. Dark smiled
"Yeah I'm heah Nick."
"Did you clean me up by yaself?!" He opened his eyes slowly.
"Nah. Dis goil did most of it."
"Goil? Penny? Dusty? Docks?"
"Nah. I dunno her. Da one dat came in wit you taday."
"Laura."
"She saved ya life."
"Yeah she did."
"It really wasn't anything..." I whispered.
"I'll name her, Spot! Can I?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"How 'bout...Angel?"
I smiled. "Alright."
My life changed significantly that day. Spot Conlon owed me and that put me at the top of the food chain. I had gone from worthless to power in one day and above that, I had a new best friend.
Spot had taken me under his wing like a helpless puppy. He taught me to sell and fight. To be street smart, witty, and above all...a true Brooklyn newsie.
It had been exactly four months since my first run in with him that I finally realized why he was feared. He wasn't afraid to hurt someone...even himself.
We were sitting on the side of a street and it was a hot humid day. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and I caught sight of them. Thin, pearly, white scars that laced up his forearm. "Spot! What are those?!"
He glanced down. "Those...dey'se just some scars..."
"What are they from?"
"Me. It was a while ago Angel. Calm down. I would nevah do it again."
I frowned. "You promise."
"I promise. Awright?"
It was scary to know he was capable of something like that. If he had wanted himself dead then, what made me believe him that he wouldn't again? I don't know. But I did.
A/N-This isn't a one shot so if you read, please review. I'll get chapter two up ASAP.