The light cutting across Kill's face was a vivid blue, stained by the glass of the window. Spot stood just behind his friend as he knelt in front of the large church alter. Spot had never been an avid church go-er, but Kill went every Sunday. Kill was silent, but his head was bowed and his hands clasped tightly in his lap. Spot never asked what he prayed for, but some times he wondered if Kill was praying for both their souls.

Kill touched his hand to his lips and then to his forehead before crossing himself. "In nomeni patri," he whispered, "et fili spiritus sancti." He stood as he spoke and turned to Spot, expectant. Spot was smiling at him.

"You know any Latin besides that?" He didn't miss a chance to tease Kill whenever it came to his faith. Maybe it was callous of him, but it took a lot to ruffle Kill's feathers and as usual, Spot's comment rolled off his back like water.

"Another dead Rabbit found last night," Kill said, changing the subject as they walked down the aisle. Their pace was slow. Neither was in a rush, despite the news.

"You mean dead as in dead," Spot asked.

Kill snorted in laughter and nodded. "Yeah I mean dead as in dead."

"Just making sure. Wouldn't really be news otherwise, would it?"

Kill raised an eyebrow at Spot. Normally Spot didn't crack that many jokes in a row. "Something's got you in a good mood."

Spot shrugged, but the smile that curled the corner of his lips betrayed his air of nonchalance. "We got him on the ropes, Kill, that's all. Shon and Jennings. Even Tweed is feeling it. Can't you tell?"

Kill let his hand trail over the tops of the pews as they strolled. The wood was smooth under his palm and he turned his face up to stare at the arching ceilings. He'd been coming to this church since he'd first come to Brooklyn. It was the largest in the borough, and the most catholic. He liked it that way. "Yeah I can tell. I was up at Five Points the other day. They'd got their hands on some of Jennings' boys. Strung them up good."

Spot's smile grew wider and he paused. They were closer to the back of the church now. He leaned against the side of a pew and crossed his arms over his chest. "On the ropes. When we take care of Shon tomorrow night it should send a message to Jennings. If he runs then Tweed is all on his own. He won't have anyone to support him anymore." He grinned like a cat who'd eaten the canary at that thought.

"Rome told you to do it tomorrow?" Kill remained standing as he faced Spot.

"Yeah. He doesn't know he's been made yet. Getting him to the piers shouldn't be a problem. Mary said he's been planning to contact me soon anyways."

Kill nodded, sage-like at the mention of Mary. "You seen her since your last meeting?"

Spot's scoff was humorless, more a bark than a laugh. "I think I scared her out of her mind, or she scared herself. I don't know which. I can't figure why she married the man in the first place."

"He ain't bad to her," Kill interjected. "You seen them together. He treats her right."

"I guess. Either way he dies tomorrow night."

Kill winced and gestured for them to leave. "Not so loud alright? We are in a church."

Spot laughed again as they passed the last row of pews and stepped into the sunlit doorway. "God might be listening, right?"

Kill punched him in the arm and neither boy saw a pale faced Mary McCrae scoot out from the back row of pews. She'd been there when they'd come in, but had stayed silent and hidden in the shadow of the staircase that led up to the choir loft. She stood in the doorway and watched them make their way down the stone steps to the street, her hand clenched tightly around the hem of her shawl.

--

Mary gave a panicked cry as a vase shattered against the far wall of the apartment. She was curled in the corner, back pressed into the wall. Shon stormed back and forth in front of her, methodically destroying everything easily breakable in their home. The plates from dinner were the first to go. The vase had been a wedding present from Mary's grandmother. She stared at the remnants scattered on the floor and hiccupped against frightened tears.

"You bitch!" Shon raged. "You lying bitch! Do you realize what you've done? You've ruined everything! Everything!"

"I'm sorry!" She shook her head furiously. Mary could barely recognize her own voice through the tears. "I panicked. I saw you kill that man and I didn't know what to do." She ventured a little ways away from the wall, tipping forward onto her hands and knees. She stared up at him, pleading. "But it's alright, isn't it? I told you. I heard what Spot said and I told you. Shon, please."

"Shut up!" Shon ignored her outstretched hand and slumped into a rickety chair. "God damn it, stop crying. I need to think!"

Mary clenched her mouth shut. She flattened herself into the corner again, wrapping her arms around her bent knees. Her heart was slamming in her chest, so loudly she could hear it in her ears.

"They know. They know everything." Shon was muttering to himself, hand buried in his hair. "What can I do? Does Tweed know? Tweed must know. God damn it."

"I'm sorry…" Mary tried again, but she didn't get a response. It appeared as though Shon didn't know she was there anymore. He rose jerkily from the chair and grabbed his jacket from a hook by the door. He was gone before Mary could utter another word and as the door clicked shut she burst into tears, burying her face in both hands.

--

Shon was going to make sure Spot was never a danger to him. He knew it could be done, but he wasn't quite sure how to do it. Shon wasn't arrogant, or stupid enough, to trick himself into thinking he could beat Spot in a fight. Besides, he would have to get by Kill before he could even touch Spot, and that was something Shon was sure no one could do.

He rubbed his hands over his thighs in an attempt to warm himself. It didn't work. He'd been sitting on the door step of the tenement across from Gritty's for close to forty minutes and Spot had yet to appear. Shon just needed to find some sort of weakness, a soft spot he could exploit. He was sure it existed. For a moment he had considered using Mary, after learning of Spot's affection for his wife Shon was sure he would take the bait, but even in his new, crazed state, Shon couldn't bring himself to hurt Mary like that. He was furious yes, but she was Mary.

The door to Gritty's opened for the hundredth time while he'd been sitting there, but this time Shon perked up. Spot was standing on the sidewalk, but he wasn't alone. A small blond boy was at Spot's side. From his vantage point, Shon couldn't hear the words being exchanged, but the younger boy was certainly animated. Spot looked peeved, but there was a certain amount of bemused affection on the Brooklyn leader's face. It gave Shon pause, an idea taking shape in his panicked mind.

The pair started across the street toward him and Shon stood quickly, stepping back into the shadowed doorway to avoid being seen. The boy was still yammering away at Spot, but for some reason he was being tolerated. Slowly, they came into earshot.

"It'll be amazing, Spot!" The boy seemed to bounce. "You and Jack, friends again. No one ever thought it would happen, but now it has and you guys'll be unstoppable. Unstoppable!"

"Yeah, yeah Hollis." Spot pushed the boy gently and Shon could see the faint hint of a smile behind the annoyance on Spot's face. "Let's just get you back to your brother alright? You shouldn't be wandering around alone."

"Can I come back though? To Brooklyn?"

They had passed Shon's doorway by now and he stepped forward a little to watch their backs as they started up the street.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. But don't leave Manhattan without Jensen alright? Don't be stupid."

"I won't. I promise…" The end of Hollis' sentence faded off as they turned the corner and Shon emerged completely. So Spot and Jack had reconciled. That was more bad news for him, although it seemed like a new avenue for controlling Spot had opened.

Shon now knew where he needed to go and who he needed to threaten if he wanted Spot Conlon off his back.

--

Snow was drifting by the window in Kill's small bedroom. He had been drifting in and out of sleep for a few hours, enjoying the unusual silence of Gritty's below. They had closed early because of the snow. Very few customers ventured out in weather this wet, even for alcohol. The warm body beside him shifted and Kill turned his head to look at the girl who was lying with her back to him. She was tangled in the blankets, long blond hair splayed around her head.

The peace of the bedroom was disturbed abruptly as the door opened. Kill looked over his shoulder to peer at Spot standing just inside the room. It was too dark to see his expression, but when he spoke Kill could hear his anger.

"Get up. We're going to Manhattan."

Kill began the process of dressing without hesitation, knowing he could ask as many questions as he wanted, so long as he was moving.

"Why?"

"Mary must have told Shon something." Spot crossed his arms as he waited, keeping his eyes on the snow caked window. "He grabbed Hollis right out from under Jack's nose. He says he's gonna kill the kid unless I come and talk to him. Fucking crazy."

Kill paused as he buttoned his shirt. Mary had spilled. That must have been the source of Spot's anger. Sure, he was worried about the kid, but nothing got to Spot more than a betrayal.

The girl in the bed stirred sleepily and sent Kill a bleary, questioning look. He put a finger to his lips and ducked to press a kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep, Molly. I'll be back."

That seemed to satisfy her because she rolled over without a word. Kill nodded to Spot and grabbed his jacket as they left.

"So what's the plan? You gonna talk him down?"

"No." Spot didn't look at Kill as he spoke, but he waited until his friend had pulled his jacket on before going out into the snow. "You're going to kill him."

--

When Spot reached the Manhattan Newsboy's Lodging House he couldn't see anyone on the street, but he heard the voices that echoed off the surrounding tenements. He picked up his pace a little, breaking into a slow jog in the general direction of where the voices were coming from. He neared the mouth of the alley that was neighboring to the Lodging House and slowed. The voices were distinct now. He paused before making his appearance, wanting to know just what was happening.

"Shon…" Jack's voice was the clearest, not clouded by fear or panic, or in Shon's case, madness. "I think it would be better for everyone if you just let Hollis go. He ain't a part of this."

"Shut up, Kelly." Shon's voice was venomous and Spot frowned. "Where the fuck is Conlon? I thought I said I wanted to talk to him."

"Easy." Spot spoke as he stepped around the corner so those in the alley could see him. Jack and Jensen both turned to look at him from where they stood in the opening to the alley. Shon was farther in, out of reach of the light from the street lamps, but Spot could still see a deathly pale Hollis trapped against Shon's chest with one strong arm and one very sharp knife. "Just take it easy, Shon."

"Decided to show your face, huh?" Shon grinned eerily at him. Spot couldn't help but frown in confusion. This was not the Shon he knew. Learning of Spot's plans must have completely unbalanced him. Perhaps Shon believed himself abandoned by Tammany, which could very well have been true. However, what it was exactly didn't matter, because Shon had clearly gone off the handle.

"Shon, I don't know who told you this would be a good plan, but I should let you know..." Spot shrugged his shoulders and gave him nonchalant look, "I really don't care if you kill the kid."

"Conlon!" Jensen cried out behind him and Spot looked over his shoulder to see Jack restraining Jensen from leaping forward.

"Spot," Jack said quietly, narrowing his eyes at him. It was a warning look, but Spot didn't seem to be bothered.

"It's the truth. The kid's a thorn in my side, to be honest with you." He spread his hands as he turned back to Shon. "No matter what you do, I'm going to get rid of you, Shon. It's just the order of things."

Shon's wild eyes were flickering from the frightened Hollis, to Spot, and back to Hollis again. "I ain't bluffing, Conlon. I'll kill the kid. You back off from me, you and Rome, or I'll slit his throat."

Spot laughed and the sound was horribly out of place in the grim scene. He shook his head, smiling ruefully, and looked down at his boots as if embarrassed by it all. "What can I tell you, Shon? I just don't give a shit."

Behind him, as he attempted to keep Jensen from leaping at Spot's throat, Jack saw Shon hesitate. His arm loosened around Hollis. "Hey, Jensen," he said softly to the furious young man, so only he could hear, "take it easy. It'll be alright."

"I'm just thinkin' of you, Shon." Spot continued to speak and Shon continued to slacken his grip on Hollis. The knife began to drift away from his throat. "I mean, all these witnesses. You kill Hollis; you're in an even bigger shit pile than before. Might as well just let him go and get away now. Leave the city or somethin'. Ain't like I'd chase you."

That did the trick. Shon's arm dropped away from Hollis, although the knife remained dangerously close to the boy's throat. "You'd let me leave." He didn't sound like he believed Spot.

Spot nodded. Shon's arms went slack at his sides and Hollis darted away from him. He fled past Spot, but Spot didn't turn to look as he found the safety of Jensen's arms. The Brooklynite's eyes were trained unflinchingly on Shon. His voice had dropped to a soft lull, like some one trying to calm a shying horse.

"If you could make it out of the city," he said quietly, "I wouldn't chase you."

Shon straightened, opening his mouth to say something, just as Kill emerged from the shadows behind him. Jensen made a small noise of surprise as he appeared, but Shon was unable to do anything. He didn't even have time to turn around before Kill was upon him.

The switchblade glinted in the dim light that barely illuminated the alley. Kill's fingers buried in Shon's red hair as he drew the knife quickly across the astonished man's throat. Shon's hands flew up to the gaping wound, but Kill had already let him go, stepping back and letting nature do the rest. A horrible gurgling noise broke the thick silence that hung in the cold air and Jack winced a little. The knife that had been in Shon's hand clattered noisly on a bare patch of cobblestone. The four witnesses watched as Shon's entire body seemed to crumple.

He fell face forward into the dirty snow with a thud and didn't move again. A dark stain of blood seeped out from underneath the body, pooling next to Spot's feet. Jensen and Hollis both stared wide eyed at the stone faced Kill as he shut the switchblade and moved to stand beside Spot.

"Close your mouths," Jack said bitterly, turning away from the others to leave. "You think his name was a joke or something? Why else would they call him Kill?"

Spot and Kill looked back icily at Jensen until he grabbed Hollis by the shoulder and dragged him after Jack.

"We leaving it here?" Kill asked once the other three were gone from view.

"Yeah. Leave it." Spot looked up at him. Neither let the smallest amount of concern show on their faces, whether because they had none, or because neither wanted the other to think the concern was there.

Spot turned and Kill followed him. They stepped over Shon's still warm body and started the journey back to Brooklyn.