Following You
There's no time for us
There's no place for us
What is this thing that builds our dreams?
Yet slips away from us
Who wants to live forever?
- Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen
For the next week, Spot waited impatiently for news. He knew it had to come from somewhere, whether from Ratchet or one of his birds he wasn't sure. For the sake of his boys', he hoped it was his birds. Another word from someone other than one of his own, he was sure it would mean another uprising and if that was the case he didn't know if he'd be lucky enough to survive a second one.
So, he waited. And waited. Before he waited too long, though, patience paid off. A week after the unexpected visit from the Bronx leader, one of his smaller birds came to him as he sat at the end of the docks one afternoon.
Beat was twelve, had barely been with the Brooklyn newsies for a year, but his dark hair, eyes and complexion made it easy for him to stick to the shadows unnoticed. He'd quickly been trained as a spy.
"Mr. Conlon?" Beat spoke softly so it took a bit reiterating before Spot turned to look for who was saying his name.
Blue eyes falling on the young boy, Spot raised an eyebrow, "Whatcha got foah me, aye Beat?"
Beat looked around, his dark, brown eyes shifting about for anyone lurking near to eavesdrop before he opened his mouth, "Word in Queens is dat Ruckus is weak." He murmured, meeting Spot's eyes for a brief moment before looking away nervously. "Topah's newsies think he's plannin' ta take ovah Brooklyn once ya gone. Clash left him in charge, dey say, because he knew Topah was ambitious." That last word was one Beat obviously didn't understand as he tripped over it, but Spot understood. Toper wanted to be known for something; had plans for Brooklyn that didn't include Ruckus and Spot Conlon didn't like the sound of that one bit.
Ruckus was, after all, his choice heir, and Spot would be damned if some kid could walk on into his territory thinking it'd be easy 'cause Ruckus didn't have the fear or the respect that Spot did.
"Thanks, Beat." He told the kid, giving him a clap on the back, "Listen, I want ya ta stay ovah in Queens. Get back ta me if ya hear anythin' else, awright?"
"Yessir." Beat replied and without another word disappeared as silently as he'd come.
He gazed across the East River in the direction of Manhattan, slowly going over the events of the last week and a half. Since Spot and Ruckus had had supper with the Snow's, he'd been noticing his second's inattention, long absences, and otherwise unleaderly-like behavior. Grinding his teeth, he tried not to think about what this could mean. Ruckus was shirking his responsibilities and as he'd yet to gain the respect he needed to thoroughly take the reins as Brooklyn's leader, he was causing undue worry on Spot.
Feeling restless, Spot slipped his cane through his worn red suspenders before striding down the docks and turning in the direction of the lodging house. He'd already expressed his worries to Naomi but now he needed to tell her his birds had finally gotten back to him. She would know what to say, like she always did. After Ratchet's visit, she had listened without comment like she was so good at and when he was finished she'd told him her thoughts on the matter.
"Spot, Ruckus is young. He didn't ask for all this and I know he's your chosen one, so to speak, but he's probably just blowing off some steam before it comes close to the time when he has to become responsible for thirty boys." After her small speech, he relaxed and thought about it like she saw it. It was true; he'd gone through a similar phase before coming into his own. He'd even skipped out on a few of Hero's training sessions.
"You're right." He'd whispered, pulling her into his arms, "How is it I'm lucky enough ta have ya?" His thoughts had turned to that night so long ago when she'd found him in that alley beside her home.
"Hang in there. I'm going to get help." She whispered.
He'd stubbornly refused help before passing out but Naomi had ignored him. If there was a God like Mrs. Snow believed in and went to church every Sunday to worship, he could thank the guy a million times and still owe him a thousand times over.
"Who says its luck?" She had joked, poking his side lightly. He had jerked in surprise; a laugh escaping before he realized she'd just found his ticklish spot.
He smiled now, remembering how she'd tried unsuccessfully to hold him and tickle him. Quickening his steps, he felt his heart lighten as the lodging house came into view. She was in there, keeping busy as she waited for patients.
She wouldn't be expecting him. Spot grinned and took the stairs two at a time, excited to have a little time alone with her. He knew he'd been a little distant lately, worry about Brooklyn had him on edge and just a little surly. Now that he knew his birds weren't against him, at least one wasn't, he felt a little better, a little more confident that he could handle the situation.
Opening the door to the sick room, he was surprised to find that she was busy. More than busy, the sick room was also a bit crowded. It wasn't a big room by any means, but now it was filled with two boys almost as old as him and even bigger body-wise who were there, watching from in front of the window with anxious faces as Naomi bent over someone on the table.
He recognized the intense atmosphere as one of the boys caught sight of him and moved towards him. His name was Blue and he was around Ruckus's age, but he had never been prominent among Spot's followers. Not because of disloyalty but because he spent most of his time keeping an eye on the younger boys.
Which would explain why he was here.
"What happened?" Spot demanded, lowering his voice so that Naomi wasn't aware he'd entered and be otherwise distracted from what she was doing.
Blue's miserable gaze met his own as he replied, "Why wasn't feeling very good lately," He began, his eyes moving over to the small child on the bed who wasn't more than nine years old, "Ise kept askin' him, 'ya shoah ya don't wanna see Naomi?' He kept tellin' me no, he was just coughin' a little." The older boy clenched his teeth, "I felt his forehead a bit ago and he was burnin' up, Spot. I brought him right ta her but so far…" Blue shrugged as his eyes stared holes into the back of Naomi, who was blocking most of Why.
Without another word to the younger boy, Spot strode towards Naomi and stopped beside her, accidentally startling her in the process, "Oh." She exclaimed, her green eyes wide and wild before recognizing him, "Spot." Her voice was soft, but her shoulders were stiff with anxiety as she turned back to the small boy who was lying on the table, a cool sheen of sweat across his brow.
For a moment he watched her small, slim fingers trace nimbly across the boys forehead, arms and stomach. Her brows were furrowed as she leaned over him before she sighed and pulled back. He waited patiently for her to give the verdict.
"He has a fever…and a cough but that's obvious. I…don't know. Perhaps it's nothing more than a common cold but I can't be sure yet, either way it could turn fatal. He'll need to stay here with me until I know more." Naomi met his eyes and he saw a shadow in her green orbs that gave him an ache in his chest.
"Anythin' I can do?" He asked.
She glanced down at the boy before replying, "Send a bird to tell my mother I won't be home tonight."
A/N: I'm aware it's short and late coming but I have JUST finished my second week of being a junior in college so you'll have to excuse my busyness. Not to mention this chapter was hard for me, but hopefully this little unforeseen event will help me with the rest of the story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, please keep 'em comin'!
Truly,
Joker is Poker with a J~
Disclaimer: I only own what you do not recognize. Everything else is the property of their respective owners.
