Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer rights apply.
Warning:Updates will most definitely be slow. Sorry, guys.
This contains SLASH, in other words: same sex couples. It also contains drug use, violence, sexual situations, and MAY contain a(n OC) death. This story is marked for mature readers only, please treat it as such.
Pairings: Will be sporadic, and a surprise. I'm not ruining the story by telling you end pairings.
Beta'd By: Sarah2437 (Thank you for your hard work!)
Notes: The last past!chapter for you. I'm posting it out of turn because chapter 27 ends on a cliffhanger, and putting a pause after a cliffhanger just seems cruel. The next chapter should be up soon. Either tonight or tomorrow.
Getting Back Together Again
The Past VIII - Rambler or How Spot Became Boss
THREE YEARS LATER
Gadget: Age 12
Bam: Age 15
Sean: Age 16
Slingshot: Age 17
Stealth: Age 18
Speed: Age 20
Hunter: Age 20
Spot tried to roll over in bed, stopping when he felt an arm holding him in place. "What the fuck are you doing?" he mumbled as he wiped the spit from his chin.
"You gave away the last bed again," Slingshot mumbled back.
"I know that," Spot answered, knocking Slingshot's arm off him as he sat up. "I meant, 'what the fuck do you think you're doing cuddling me?' You're being a fucking fag."
"I am a fucking fag," Slingshot answered, rolling his eyes as he sat up as well. "And this wouldn't be an issue if you'd stop recruiting everyone all at once. It's stupid to get more beds, since half of them are going to leave as soon as you start threatening them. Not to mention, we don't really have the space for more beds anyway, even though we live in a fucking hotel."
"I was thinking about tearing down some walls in the basement and putting up some bunkbeds," Spot answered, stretching.
"The basement?" Slingshot asked, getting out of the bed before Spot. "The same basement that smells like mold and barely has any working lights?"
"We have more than one basement?" Spot replied, catching the pants that Slingshot threw at him.
"Don't be a smartass," his second-in-command said, rolling his eyes. "You're going to scare 'em off even faster if you throw 'em in that hole in the ground."
"Yeah? So?" Spot replied, finally getting out of bed so he could put his pants on. "You're the one who's so insistent on accepting every piece of shit that walks in here. I'm just weeding them out quicker."
"You ever hear the phrase 'safety in numbers'?" Slingshot asked, throwing on one of Spot's shirts. It was a little short at the waist, but he could change as soon as he got back to his own bedroom.
"You ever hear the phrase 'go fuck yourself'?" Spot grumbled back.
Slingshot just laughed. "That was weak. Looks like you didn't get enough sleep." He threw him a shirt when he realized Spot wasn't even looking for one.
"You did keep me up half the night playing with my fucking dick," Spot mumbled, running both hands through his hair after he had put on his shirt.
"Must be a side effect of being a fucking fag," Slingshot answered before walking over and swiftly kissing Spot on the mouth.
Spot grinned through his glare. "It might be catching."
Slingshot smiled at him. "Does that mean you're going to play with my dick tonight?"
"It means I'm not going to punch you in the mouth for kissing me," Spot replied, trying and failing to hold back his grin. "Fucking faggot."
Slingshot rolled his eyes before smacking Spot on the ass. "Relax, would you? We're alone. Not like I'm out there doing this shit in front of the recruits."
Spot grabbed him by the balls through his jeans, squeezing slightly. "Just because we aren't around people doesn't mean I don't think it's fucking annoying."
Slingshot nodded as he clenched his teeth against the pain; audibly sighing as soon as Spot released him. "Message received," he said as soon as the pain eased enough for him to talk. "God damn," he muttered before looking towards Spot. "You know, once upon a time you were all for gang's being sympathetic and welcoming to gays."
"You were imagining things," Spot mumbled as he plopped down on the bed to put on his boots.
"No, I definitely remember it. You were off chasing Bam around, proposing marriage." Slingshot ducked when a shoe was thrown at him. "Promised he'd be your queen, I think it was."
Spot leaned forward on his bed, glaring at Slingshot. "Just because I let you sleep next to me sometimes doesn't mean I'm going to hesitate to kill you, you fucking cock sucker." He went back to tying the one shoe he had left. "And I'm not a fucking fag."
Slingshot raised both eyebrows at him as he brought him back his shoe. "Boss, what are you, then, if you aren't gay?" he asked slowly. "I realize it might not be the best revelation about yourself, but you have sucked my-"
"Shut the fuck up, Slingshot," Spot demanded, snatching back his other shoe.
"I'm just saying, this denial thing … It's not exactly healthy, you know?" Slingshot replied, sitting next to Spot on the bed. "And if you actually don't think you are, then maybe it's time you had sex with," Slingshot shrugged, "you know, a girl."
Spot turned his head to glower at Slingshot after he had got done tying both shoes. "I don't want to have sex with a girl."
"Okay, well, that makes you-"
"Shut the fuck up, Slingshot," Spot said again, standing up and running his hands through his hair. He leaned close to Slingshot so he could whisper. "There's a difference between liking dicks and being a fag.'
Slingshot blinked at him. "No, Spot, there's really not."
"Yes, there is!" Spot snapped back before he started pacing. "Because I'm not a fucking twink and neither are you, and I know about fucking power tools and cars and-"
"You don't know a thing about cars, Boss. That's what Speed's for, remember?" Slingshot pointed out, grabbing at Spot's arm and pulling him towards him. "It's fine to not be a stereotype. You're gay because you like dicks; there's nothing else to it, alright?"
"There's something wrong with touching me," Spot replied with a glare, pulling away.
Slingshot pinched the bridge of his nose before getting off the bed and patting Spot on the shoulder. "You can't change being gay, and you're not going to be able to own anything if you can't own yourself," he said, letting himself out of Spot's bedroom. "Might as well man up and embrace it, Boss," he continued from the hall.
Spot rolled his eyes. "Not embracing shit if it means I've gotta talk about my fucking feelings all the time," he muttered to himself before following after Slingshot.
"It was his idea!" Hunter yelled, pointing a finger at Gadget. They were both covered in flour and eggs, as was the entire kitchen around them. "I just wanted to make pancakes from the mix, but he insisted on making them from scratch."
"That's a lie! You said you wanted to make pancakes out of coconut flour," Gadget replied, wiping egg off his face. "That's impossible to do if we were using the mix."
Bam crossed his arms as he fixed his glare on Gadget. "It doesn't matter who's idea it was. It was your job to watch him." He ran a hand through his hair. "You two better be glad Slingshot gave his bed away again last night."
"Awww, Boss is gettin' a little somethin' somethin'," Hunter said with a smirk, jerking his hips forward a few times. "Bet that lucky sonuvabitch is walking on clouds right now."
"What's Boss getting?" Gadget asked, looking between the two of them.
"I'm interested, too," Spot answered as he came through the kitchen door. "Talking about how angry I was going to get that my kitchen's completely fucking trashed?" he asked, glaring between the three of them.
"Nah, we were talk-"
Bam immediately put a hand over Hunter's mouth, effectively shutting him up. "Yep, that's it, Bossman," he answered with a smile.
"Well, I am having a fantastic morning," Slingshot interrupted, coming into the kitchen behind Spot and freezing as soon as he saw the mess. "How did you manage to get it on the ceiling?" he asked, looking up at the egg and flour mixture dripping onto the floor from above them.
"Bet you said the same thing to Spot last night," Hunter said as soon as he had jerked his head away from Bam's hand.
Gadget looked at everyone in confusion as Bam's eyes widened. "What did Spot get on the ceiling?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bam asked, rounding onto Hunter. "Why would you just-?" He interrupted himself by letting out a growl. "You've got a fucking death wish."
"They're just joking," Slingshot said, turning to Spot. "Not like they don't know when I have to give my bed away. It's a running joke. Er … not that they joke about it a lot," he said, his eyes wide.
"Maybe they wouldn't be joking at all if you didn't make it so obvious I stuck it up your ass last night," Spot said, striding past Hunter and Gadget to get to the fridge.
"Ha! I fucking called it!" Hunter exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air.
"Yeah, and betting against whom, exactly, you big doofus?" Bam asked loudly, crossing his arms at the other man.
"Okay, he's lying," Slingshot said over Bam, a blush covering his entire face. "We've never actually … you know. We just … I-I mean we do other stuff, but-"
"What happened to owning it, Sling?" Spot asked before drinking some orange juice straight out of the carton.
"Y-you-!" Slingshot started before pausing. "There is no way you made me keep it a secret for years just so you could humiliate me now!"
"You've been doing it for years?" Bam asked loudly, looking between them. "Since when? How many years?"
"I never said you had to keep it a secret," Spot answered, shrugging. "You did that all by yourself. I would have told someone if they would've asked."
"Told them what?" Gadget asked, his gaze scanning over everyone else in the room. "What've you been keeping a secret?" He turned to Spot. "You stuck something up Slingshot's ass?"
"Oh, Jesus," Slingshot mumbled, his face turning even redder at Gadget's questions.
"You familiar with the term 'homosexuality', Gadget?" Hunter asked with a smirk, stooping so he could meet the younger boy's eyes.
"What the hell are you telling my cousin, you bastard?" Speed asked, crossing the kitchen in four long strides to jerk Hunter up by his collar. "Haven't I told you not to talk to him?"
"You tell everybody not to talk to him," Bam pointed out, rolling his eyes.
"That's because you're all horrible influences on him!" Speed declared.
"Why are you even here?" Gadget asked, glaring up at his older cousin. "Don't you have a run you were supposed to make this morning?"
"Already did it," Speed replied, crossing his arms and glaring back. "And don't try getting out of me yelling at you by trying to get Spot to yell at me."
"Why are you even yelling at me in the first place?" Gadget asked, pointing to Hunter. "He's the one who was talking to me!"
"I'm not going to yell at anybody," Spot said after he had put the juice away and walked over to Bam. "I'm actually having a really fantastic morning."
"Plowing Sling really helps your temper, huh?" Bam muttered back to him as he watched Gadget and Speed argue back and forth.
"Why? You wanna borrow him?" Spot asked back with a smirk.
"You should know not to listen to Hunter, Derek!" Speed yelled.
Bam put his arm around Spot's shoulders, matching his smirk. "Why borrow him when we can share, eh?"
"I told you not to call me that! It's 'Gadget' now, Seth," Gadget complained with a pout.
Spot let out a silent snort. "As if you could keep up."
"You can call me 'Seth' as much as you want, Derek. I'm not ashamed of my name," Speed answered. "And I'm not going to start calling you 'Gadget' when I've been calling you 'Derek' since you were born. 'Gadget's' a stupid name anyway."
Bam raised an eyebrow at Spot, keeping his arm around him. "You guys get into some freaky shit? Like bondage? Or, like, freakier shit?" he asked quietly.
"You ever hear of watersports?" Spot muttered back.
"I like 'Gadget'!" Gadget yelled at Speed. "And I don't understand why Hunter can do whatever he wants and I'm the one who gets in trouble! It's not fair!"
"That's, like, urine and blood stuff, right?" Bam muttered to Spot, pulling a face. "Gross, dude."
Spot shrugged as his smirk grew. "I know, man, but Slingshot loves the piss out of it. Literally."
"Whatever he's telling you is a lie!" Slingshot yelled from across the room as soon as he heard his name. "What's he telling you?" he asked as he strode over to them.
Speed continued to yell at Gadget. "Because Hunter is a moron and you aren't. I expect more from you."
"He's almost a decade older than me!" Gadget yelled back.
"What's he telling you?" Slingshot repeated as soon as he reached Bam and Spot.
"Watersports, dude?" Bam replied, shaking his head. "So gross."
"Age doesn't make you not an idiot, Derek!" Speed shouted. "It just makes it sadder when you are an idiot!"
Slingshot looked between Spot and Bam. "What, like wakeboarding? How is that gross?"
Bam burst out laughing. "Are you kidding me?" He turned towards Spot. "You're having sex with a dude this vanilla?"
"Fine, whatever," Gadget snapped. "But whether Hunter's an idiot or not isn't my fault! I'm not his god damn babysitter."
"Don't curse, Derek," Speed lectured.
"We're not having sex!" Slingshot exclaimed. "We just do hand and mouth stuff," he muttered before turning to Spot. "Tell him," he demanded.
"'Hands and mouth stuff', he says," Bam interrupted, laughing louder.
"Don't call me Derek, Seth."
Spot nodded to Bam. "And urine stuff."
"What?" Slingshot exclaimed again, quickly turning to Bam. "There's no urine stuff!" He blanched. "Oh, Jesus, is that what watersports are? That's so fucking gross, Spot."
"B-b-boss?" a kid asked, sticking his head into the kitchen. "Th-there's someone here f-for you.," he stuttered, looking everywhere but at Spot.
"That one's not lasting," Spot muttered to Bam and Slingshot before addressing the kid. "Then show him in, dipshit. Do you not know how?"
"Can't imagine what would drive him away," Slingshot muttered back as the kid hightailed it out of the kitchen.
"If you would stop picking up pussies this wouldn't be a problem," Spot snapped back, turning to face his second-in-command.
"They aren't pussies! You're just terrifying," Slingshot argued back, crossing his arms and glaring at his boss.
"Yeah, terrifying to pussies," Bam said, smirking at Spot.
Slingshot rolled his eyes. "Stop sucking up."
"Says the person who's actually sucking-" Bam started before being interrupted by Speed.
"Whoa, whoa whoa! Child present, remember?" Speed snapped, quickly covering Gadget's ears.
Gadget pulled away immediately. "I'm not a child!" he argued, frowning at his older cousin.
"The way I understand it you're all children." a man said, waltzing into their kitchen.
"I'm twenty years old, dodo-brains," Hunter snapped.
Speed squinted at him for a few seconds. "You realize that calling someone 'dodo-brains' is a horrible way to prove that you aren't a child, right?"
"Tch, no, I don't realize that," Hunter replied, scoffing at him. "It's not like I called him a doo-doo head, did I?" he asked, not waiting for a reply. "Yeah, uh-huh. That's what I thought. You're welcome."
"You're a god damn idiot," Bam told Hunter before turning to Slingshot. "This one of your recruits? Because he seems like a douche."
Slingshot slowly shook his head. "Not one of mine. I don't recruit mentally deranged homeless people that smell like they've been living in cat piss for half their lives."
"Well, that's just rude, on so many levels," the man said, putting a hand in his pocket and quickly flashing a gun. Speed immediately shoved Gadget behind him in response to the threat. "One," the man said once he had gotten everyone's attention, "your gang's a god damn joke. You've got absolutely no money coming in to support your men or territories. You steal shit from stores and other gangs to keep your men fed, which is about the stupidest long-term strategy I've ever heard. Second, I'm not fucking homeless or deranged."
"You certainly seem homeless and deranged," Slingshot muttered. Thankfully, it went ignored by the stranger in their kitchen.
"I just got done whipping up a batch of the good stuff," the man continued. He reached into his other pocket and threw a baggy of white crystals to Bam.
Bam caught them and got an intense urge to bolt with his new bag of crack. 'So much crack,' his brain supplied as he did nothing but stare at it for several seconds. He quickly dropped it on the ground and stepped away from it. "We don't want that shit here, man," he finally said, looking up at the stranger. His eyes drifted back to the crack on the floor just a few seconds later.
The guy just smiled at him. "Now, hear me out. I'm not giving it to you. I'm not even here to encourage you to use it. I'm here to encourage you to sell it. This," he said, pointing down to the bag of crack, "is what's going to make your gang that motherfucking money." He looked over all the boys in the kitchen, smiling at each one. "This is what's going to allow you to maintain your hold in Brooklyn."
Slingshot looked over at Spot, but stepped forward when it appeared his boss wasn't prepared to say anything. "We're not drug dealers," Slingshot said. "We don't want that shit here, and we're certainly not going to sell it for you. We're also not fucking stupid. I'm supposed to risk my men getting sent to jail for selling your shit, while you make money with no risk to yourself? Go fuck yourself, man. Shit doesn't work like that."
"It does if the rewards are worth the risks," the man said. "And I'm prepared to make them worth it. You set the prices, you give me twenty percent, and I'll even give you that bag on front street."
"Who the fuck says 'front street'?" Hunter asked, looking over at Speed. "Is this bozo serious?"
"Wants to be a gangster?" Speed guessed. "Fucking amatuer, man."
"How come you can cuss, and I can't?" Gadget asked from behind him. "That's bullshit, man."
"Little bro! Not cool, dude," Hunter said before Speed could start in on a lecture.
"I don't think you can make fun of someone saying 'front street' if you immediately follow it up by calling someone 'little bro'," Gadget replied, crossing his arms as Speed turned around to make sure Gadget was still behind him.
Slingshot looked over at Spot, who had yet to say anything, before looking back at the drug dealer. "We're still not interested," he said, crossing his arms.
The man just smiled at him. "Worried about your inferiors sampling the merchandise?" he asked, jerking his head towards Bam who had yet to take his eyes off the bag on the floor. "Just another reason all this shit is going to go up in smoke," he said, spreading his arms out wide to indicate he meant everything. "Can't even trust your people to make you a little dough, eh?"
"We trust them just fine," Slingshot snapped. "It's you I don't fucking trust. Take your shit and get the fuck out."
"Look, Spot, I know you want to make it big," the man said, looking at Slingshot. "I've been hearing the stories about you for years. That you're unhinged. That you're never going to accomplish anything because you have no fucking direction and no fucking money. But I can fix that, ya see? I can give you both direction and money."
"He's not Spot, you doofus," Hunter said. "Jesus, you come into a gang house, and you don't even know what the boss looks like?" he asked before turning to Speed. "Man, you were right. Fucking amatuer, man."
"If you're not Spot then where is he?" the man asked, glaring at Slingshot. "And how dare you make decisions for your leader. You're overstepping your bounds, peon."
"Bam! Eyes on me," Spot demanded, taking a step forward and finally speaking.
Bam's attention immediately snapped to his boss, blinking as he refocused on what was happening around him as opposed to his fantasies involving the crack on the floor.
Spot took another step, eyes narrowed on the man in front of him. "You don't get to call anyone in this gang a peon, you sack of fucking shit-balls. You fucking piece of god damn shit. How dare you even think of existing in my city?"
"Whoa, man, I didn't do anything to you," the man said, backing up a few steps as Spot advanced on him. He stuck his hand back in his pocket and pulled out his gun halfway.
"The name 'Conlon' mean anything to you, shit for brains?" Spot asked, stopping his stride towards the man to eye the gun. He made eye contact with Slingshot before quickly looking over at Gadget.
Slingshot nodded, getting his message loud and clear. Shots are going to be fired. Get Gadget the hell out of here. He backed up slowly, making eye contact with Speed before nodding his head. Letting him know that he was free to evacuate.
Speed backed up with Gadget still behind him, Hunter stepping forward to hide their retreat.
"'Conlon'? No, not really, but I deal with a lot of people," the man said, shrugging. "I get around, you know?"
"You used to sell him drugs," Spot said, stepping forward once more now that Gadget was leaving the room. "Used to come over to our house specifically to push him to do more," he growled. "You're the reason he's fucking dead. And now you're in my house again, trying to get us to sell for you?" There was only about six inches of distance between Spot and the man now, the man pressing his back up against the wall.
"Hey, man, I think you're forgetting who's in charge here," the man said, pulling out his gun and pressing it against Spot's stomach. "I'm going to kill you before you can kill me."
Spot smirked at him. "I don't want to kill you. I want to destroy you," he told him quietly. "I'm going to come after you, and take away everything that even so much as puts a smile on your god damn fucking face. I'm going to run your drug business into the ground, and I'm going to make you nothing." He took a step back, his smirk growing as he put his hands up. "Now, these guys behind me?" he asked in his normal voice. "They won't kill you before you kill me, but they'll certainly kill you before you leave this fucking kitchen."
The man shifted his attention away from Spot to realize that he had three guns pointed at him. His eyes widened as he froze.
Spot leaned forward once more. "I'm saying you should leave, if you weren't following," he stage-whispered. He looked the man up and down before lifting up a corner of his mouth in disgust. "Also? You do smell like piss."
"Guy's not got much to destroy," Slingshot said later that evening, putting down a couple pieces of papers in front of a still-fuming Spot. "He doesn't seem to have any family. Or at least no family that he's in contact with. No job as far as we can find, and no license either. Gadget pulled his ID, and the address there leads to a place that burned down a few years ago. Word on the street is he's got an apartment, but if he does it's not his name on the lease."
"Are you rambling just to tell me you didn't find any fucking information on him?"Spot snapped, finally glaring at him instead of at the papers in front of him. "Because that's not very fucking helpful, Sling."
"I talked to a contact I picked up when I was still going to school," Speed volunteered, walking over to the kitchen table to see what kind of documentation they had on the guy. "He says the dude's big on the hussle, but his shit's whack. Not a whole lot of people around here deal with him anymore. Last my guy heard he was setting up shop in the Bronx. My guess is he only came here to deal with us so he could get a foothold back in Brooklyn."
"Probably assumed we wouldn't have heard about him, since we don't deal with drugs or other gangs," Slingshot guessed. He went back over to the table and put a hand on Spot's shoulder when he found him glaring at the table top again.
"Neither your words nor your hand is fucking helpful, Sling," Spot muttered before shrugging off the hand.
"Right," Slingshot said with a nod before sitting down next to Spot. "We've got some contacts in the Bronx. I can reach out to them; tell them to keep an eye out."
"'We'?" Spot asked with a grunt.
"Er … me?" Slingshot asked backed, squinting at his boss. "Which makes them ours, right? Because, you know, I'm in this gang, too."
"Yeah, except it's not a gang problem, is it?" Spot asked, finally pausing the death glare he was sending the table to look up at his members. "This is my problem. The two aren't interchangeable," he told them before getting up from his seat and heading towards the door. "Stealth, with me," he said before leaving the room.
Slingshot and Speed both looked around the room, expecting that Stealth would be hiding in some corner or another. Slingshot even ventured a look to the ceiling, because that bastard could be pretty sneaky. He wasn't there.
It was about thirty seconds later that Stealth came down the stairs, nodded at the both of them, and followed after Spot.
"Dude's creepy as shit," Speed muttered quietly before taking a seat at the table.
Slingshot nodded before sitting across from him.
"So, what's the plan, then?" Speed asked, leaning forward as soon as Slingshot had sat down.
"Plan?"
"Yeah, a plan. Because Spot's too stubborn to let us help," Speed explained, nodding towards the door Spot had left from earlier..
Slingshot shook his head. "The plan is to sit and wait. If Spot doesn't want help, then I'm not going to interfere. That jackass from earlier, John Whosits-Whatever," he started, making up a last name because he couldn't be assed to lean forward and get the dude's name from all the documents in front of him, "he did get one thing right. It's not my gang to make decisions for. If Spot's telling me to stand down then I gotta stand down."
"Yeah, he also said that he and the gang aren't interchangeable, and we both know that's a lie. None of this would exist if it wasn't for Spot, and his absurd … whatever the hell it is he does," Speed replied.
Slingshot frowned and shook his head. "I got where I am today by listening to him when he gave an order. I'm not going to change that when he's so mad he's likely to kill me for asking him how he's doing." He stood up from the table and looked down at Speed. "That being said, his orders, as far as I'm concerned, were to stand down. And so I'll do that, no matter what you decide to do without me."
"Message received, sir," Speed said with a smirk. "Loud and clear."
"I should have destroyed this guy back when I was a kid," Spot muttered as he and Stealth took to the rooftops in order to get to the Bronx.
They were both silent for several minutes before Stealth said anything. "You have resources now," he quietly reminded Spot.
"I don't want to get them involved," Spot explained, hopping onto a rooftop and looking down. "I can do this without them, We just gotta find this guy and fuck his shit up. It's my specialty."
Stealth stared at him for several seconds before speaking again. "You don't want to get them involved because you don't want them to know."
Spot shrugged at him. "Maybe," he admitted. "Trying to get revenge on a drug dealer for a guy I savagely killed doesn't sound like very sane behavior."
"No one's following you because of your sane behavior," Stealth pointed out.
Spot looked at him, surprised by the fast response. Stealth was never quick to put in his two cents these days. He had grown more and more quiet as the years went on.
Stealth shrugged at him before walking over and putting a hand on Spot's shoulder. They stayed like that for several minutes before he decided to speak again, just as Spot knew he would "Do you not trust that they trust you?"
Spot looked out over the rooftops, towards the Bronx. It was only a few blocks away now. He remained quiet as he really thought about his answer, knowing he could take his time when it was just him and Stealth. "There's no sense in putting anyone in the gang in danger when the matter has nothing to do with them."
Stealth watched Spot looking over Brooklyn and couldn't help but think about years earlier when he would watch Sean looking over his river. He was still so young in so many ways, and Stealth wondered if Spot would ever gain the confidence to rule over Brooklyn like he should. It was his rightful place, after all, but Stealth worried that he may not have gotten to him fast enough. Maybe all the damage his so-called brother had done to him was permanent. Maybe there would always be some doubt in his mind that these people weren't following him, but following the gang. Maybe Spot would never realize that he was the gang. "I think they would tell you that if the matter involves you then it involves the gang," he eventually said.
Spot turned to him and stared for several seconds before raising one eyebrow. "I think they would tell you that you sound like a god damn fortune cookie."
Stealth smiled at him, an expression that was rare on his face, especially these days.
It made Spot feel itchy with anxiety. "I feel like we're sharing a moment here, and you're going to want to hug me or something. So I should probably tell you that if you exert any more physical contact with me I'm going to smash your face into this roof."
Stealth squeezed Spot's shoulder for a split second before removing his hand and taking a sidestep away from his boss, never losing his smile. "King's don't need hugs," he said, a phrase he had used many times before and many years ago.
"Damn right, we don't," Spot replied with a smirk, crossing his arms and finally going back to looking over Brooklyn. "So where do you think this little douche weasel's hiding?" he asked after half a minute of silence.
Stealth quietly looked at Spot for several seconds. "I bet you a pizza your people have already found him," he finally replied.
"I learned a long time ago never to take you up on a bet, Stealth," Spot replied, crossing his arms at his long-time friend. "That schizophrenia or whatever you've got going on up there," he said, flicking Stealth's forehead with his finger, "lets you cheat like a mother fucker."
Bam came into the lobby where Speed had set up shop. "So, I just got off the phone with my dude from the Bronx."
"Is that like, your dude-dude, you know what I mean?" Hunter asked from his spot on the floor, leaning back against the front of the couch.
Bam stared at him before shaking his head. "No, I have absolutely no idea what you mean," he replied before sitting down on the floor across from him.
"You know, like do you know this dude or do you know this dude, you know what I mean?" Hunter tried again, grinning widely as he leaned over to get in Bam's face.
Bam shoved his face away. "You're kind of dumb," he said instead of answering.
"Totally slept with him," Hunter replied as he leaned back against the front of the couch again.
"I will never again ask myself why Spot is so annoyed all the time," Speed told everyone as he came into the room. "You guys are a pain in the ass to control."
"I resent that remark!" Hunter exclaimed, looking up at Speed.
"More like you resemble that remark," Gadget muttered as he walked past Speed to sit beside Bam. He smiled at Hunter who was now across from him. "Can we keep on task, please?"
"I want Slingshot! He's way more fun!" Hunter complained.
"Slingshot has orders to stand down," Speed explained, walking over to sit next to Hunter. "So, this one's up to us."
"Delving into Spot's past, huh? Should prove enlightening," Bam said, reaching over for the pile of documents in Speed's hand.
Speed pulled them away, out of reach. "There's a reason Spot doesn't want us to take this on with him," he said, "and I think I've found out why." He laid out the papers in the middle of everyone. "So, this guy, John Stanton, used to be a big time drug dealer around here, and he sold a lot of his shit to a Conlon by the name of Julius. Julius moved to town shortly after his parents died and was declared the legal guardian of one Sean Conlon."
"So, Spot's got a shitty past just like the rest of us, big whoop," Hunter replied, rolling his eyes. "At least he didn't end up in a fucking foster home."
"Shut up, he's getting to the good part," Gadget snapped.
"Thank you, Der-" Speed started, only to stop at his cousin's glare. He rolled his eyes before correcting himself. "Thanks, Gadget." He turned his focus back to the papers in front of him. "Julius took care of Spot for a few years before he was found strangled to death in his house, Spot fell off any government record, and John Stanton's business bottomed out."
"So, Stanton killed Julius, Spot left, and Stanton's business bottomed out because people found out he was murdering dudes?" Bam guessed.
"Stanton has been swearing up and down since that day he didn't kill him," Speed said. "And by all reports, Julius was Stanton's biggest customer, which is why he had to switch over to bunk shit in order to get ends to meet. Or so that's what I heard," he said. "Even if Julius did miss a payment, it doesn't seem good for business to off him just like that when he's such a big time customer."
"So, who offed him?" Bam asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the documents in front of him.
"Don't act like you can read," Hunter said, snatching the documents from the floor and paging through them.
Bam immediately jumped up and plowed his foot into Hunter's chest, moving both the man and the couch about two feet backward. "Don't be a fucking cunt rag! You know very well I can fucking read."
"Yeah, and now he knows you can kick, too," Speed replied, standing up and pushing Bam off Hunter. "Can we fucking keep on task here, please? Jesus fuck."
"He's the one who fucking started it!" Bam declared, pointing a finger at Hunter.
"He's always the one who starts it." Gadget stated, rolling his eyes. "Won't catch him ever getting in trouble for it though," he continued, glaring at his cousin.
"Oh, my, god, can we just stay on task, please!?" Speed asked, pulling at his hair. "We have some sort of murderer on our hands, you nitwits!" he explained, waving his hand towards the stack of papers Hunter was still clutching. "And it's a very real possibility that Spot thinks Stanton is the one who did it!"
"They never keep on track," Spot said, walking into the lobby through the huge double glass doors. "And I can hear you all the way from the fucking parking lot. If you insist on screaming go down to the kitchen or something."
Stealth came in from behind him, giving Spot a quick look before surveying the rest of the room. His eyes settled on Speed when he realized Slingshot wasn't there.
"So, drug dealer douche killed your brother, eh? Tragic, man," Hunter said, now leafing through all the papers Speed had gathered up. "Woe is you, huh?"
"Wasn't my brother, and, if you want to get technical, I was the one who killed him," Spot replied before striding across the room, snatching all the papers out of Hunter's hands, and ripping them into quarters.
"You killed him?" Speed asked, taking a step away from his boss.
Spot turned to Stealth. "Told you they'd be unsettled," he muttered before looking back to Speed. "You find out where he is yet? I've got a bet going against you."
"No," Speed admitted, scratching at the back of his head. "I might have gotten a little bit too caught up in the conspiracy of who killed your brother."
"Not my brother," Spot corrected before turning to Stealth and smirking. "I can't believe you were actually wrong. It's about time."
Stealth rose an eyebrow, keeping his face mutual. "Forget Slingshot?" he asked after several seconds of staring.
"God damn it!" Spot cussed before dashing down the hallway that led to his second-in-command's bedroom.
"If they aren't brothers what the hell are they?" Speed asked, looking towards Stealth, only to discover that he was gone. "That dude is so fucking creepy," he muttered.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Spot asked, bursting into Slingshot's bedroom without bothering to knock.
Slingshot quickly bunched all his papers up in front of him on the desk and threw them in a folder before guiltily looking up at his boss. He couldn't stop his wince as he made eye contact. "I might have been disobeying orders?"
"You know where to find this drug dealer fucktard?" Spot asked, stepping farther into the room while keeping the door open.
"Maybe," Slingshot answered, quickly shuffling through his papers. "I couldn't find his residence, but a contact I've got in the Bronx told me about this bar he's usually selling out of. Figure if you wanted we could just wait for him there. I'm told he shows up just a little after the sun goes down." He looked up from the paper's on his desk and saw Spot glaring at him. He immediately froze. "W-what?" he asked with wide eyes.
Spot shook his head at him. "God damn it, how is he always fucking right?" he asked before turning to the open door to see Stealth standing in the hallway. "I never agreed on that bet," he reminded him.
Stealth shrugged at him and stared for a full minute before speaking. "I'll be waiting," he said before walking off.
"That guy should not be allowed to be that creepy," Slingshot said as soon as Stealth had turned and walked away. "What the fuck was he even talking about?"
"Depends," Spot replied, staring out Slingshot's bedroom door. "He's either waiting for a pizza or waiting for us to go to the bar."
"Okay, I'm not entirely sure if I'm more or less confused by that," Slingshot answered.
Spot rolled his eyes at him. "Tell me about this bar."
"You … you don't want to involve the others in this?" Slingshot asked, casting a quick look at the floor as if he would be able to see them downstairs in the lobby. "They're pretty invested in this, you know. Speed's got this whole thing going on downstairs."
"Yeah, I know. He seems to be digging up more on why I want to fuck up Drug-Dealer-Fuck's shit and less about where the stupid cock sucker is," Spot replied.
Slingshot looked at him, brows furrowed. "Spot, do you even know this guy's name? Because I haven't heard you say it once."
"Who the fuck cares what his name is?" Spot replied. "If I call someone a cock sucking bastard just assume I'm talking about Douche-Fuck. Names don't fucking matter."
"Yes, they do."
"No, they fucking don't," Spot argued back. "I don't know what the fuck your name is, but that doesn't mean-"
"You don't know what the fuck my name is?" Slingshot interrupted. "We're sleeping together, for Christ's sake, and you don't know my fucking name?"
"Er … I know you're Slingshot," Spot tried, taking a step towards the door.
"My real fucking name, Spot. What's my given name?"
"Fuck, I don't fucking know," Spot finally admitted after half a minute at Slingshot staring at him. "Jesus, can we not make this a thing?"
You don't know your lover's fucking name!" Slingshot exclaimed loud enough for the entire floor to hear it. "How is that not a thing?"
"Don't call me your lover, Sling, that's kind of disgusting."
"Ugh! I thought you were over the gay thing!" Slingshot bit out. "Or is that only when you're trying to embarrass the fuck out of me in front of everyone?"
"It's basically whatever's funnier at the time," Spot admitted with a shrug, still looking completely unapologetic.
"How is it that you only have a sense of humor when it involves hurting others?" Slingshot growled out.
"See, now you're being gay again," Spot pointed out as Slingshot strode towards his door.
"Go fuck yourself, Sean," Slingshot demanded before slamming the door closed behind him.
"This is your fucking bedroom," Spot loudly reminded him from behind the closed door.
"Second cousin. Thrice removed," Hunter guessed. He, Speed, Gadget, and Bam sat in their original circle, arguing over what relation Julius had to Sean, as Stealth stood several feet away, leaning against the wall.
"What does 'thrice removed' even mean?" Gadget asked, looking around the circle before focusing on Hunter. "And why do you insist on making everything more complicated than it needs to be?"
"Because a simple life is also a boring one," Hunter explained, nose in the air. "And everyone knows boring people are stupid."
"I know you're stupid," Bam muttered.
"It describes a jump in generation," Speed explained before looking over at Hunter and narrowing his eyes. "And it describes first cousins, next second."
"And you're stupid, too," Bam said, shifting his attention to Speed. "What the fuck are you even talking about?"
"A first cousin, thrice removed could also be described as a third cousin. They both mean there's a three-generation gap. So, when you say 'second cousin, thrice removed' you're being redundant. You should just say 'cousin, four times removed'," Speed explained calmly.
"I don't understand what any of that fucking shit means," Bam replied. "I'm going for uncle."
"Don't understand why you thought that dumb idiot would understand anything you told him," Hunter told Speed. "You confused the fuck out of him as soon as you said 'thrice'."
"I'll confuse the fuck out of you when I ram your god damn head into the fucking drywall," Bam snapped, leaning forward to get in Hunter's face.
"Jesus, fuck, this is too much," Speed announced, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tuned out the arguing for a few seconds. "How do Spot and Slingshot put up with you assholes?"
"If I can't cuss I don't think it's right that you do," Gadget spoke up. "It's pretty unfair, don't cha think?" he asked before looking between Bam and Hunter. "What about step dad, and Spot just had a really feminist mom that made him take her last name?"
Bam scratched the back of his head. "I'm pretty sure if Spot was raised by a feminist he wouldn't be such a cunt to women."
"I don't think I've ever seen him talk to a fucking woman," Hunter replied. "Maybe the only reason he's gay is because women terrify him, because he never had a mom or any sisters growing up," he suggested quickly with wide eyes.
"Jesus, you're an idiot," Bam said, rubbing his forehead.
"How is that not a legitimate excuse to turn gay?" Hunter exclaimed.
"Because you don't turn gay, you stupid asshole!" Bam yelled back.
"How come you guys can never have a conversation without it resulting in an argument the entire hotel can hear?" Slingshot asked as he entered the lobby. "Are we even still discussing the 'Spot situation'? Or did you put that off to the side so you could argue about whether gayness was an acquired or innate trait?"
"Totally genetic," Bam said quickly, covering it up with a loud cough after he said it.
"Right, anyway, I've got the name of the bar a Mr. John Stanton goes to at least three times a week, probably more," Slingshot told them, walking over to the circle but not sitting down. "I thought we could do a little reconnaissance; find out who he knows, what he knows, and what he likes. Then we can start crushing him from the inside out."
Bam raised his hand, not waiting to be acknowledged before putting in his two cents. "Honestly, I'm a little confused as to why Spot hates this guy to begin with."
"Yeah, I was kind of wondering that myself. He got some guy Spot's related to hooked on drugs before Spot killed said relative," Speed reiterated. "Doesn't seem like he really has all that much to be angry about, since he ended up killing the guy anyway."
"Boyfriend!" Hunter exclaimed, snapping his fingers together enthusiastically just to frown half a second later. "Or, er, husband, I guess, since they have the same last name."
"It was four years ago, ya dimwit." Speed replied, frowning at Hunter. "Not to mention, Spot isn't of age to marry now, he couldn't have gotten married when he was fucking twelve or whatever," he snapped. "Jesus, how dumb are you morons?"
"What the fuck, man? It's Hunter coming up with the stupid ass fucking theories!" Bam accused, pointing at the man in question.
"Yeah!" Gadget added from beside Bam, pointing to Hunter as well. "It's his fault!"
"You don't even understand what we're talking about, Gadget!" Speed snapped.
"We're never going to get fucking anywhere, are we?" Slingshot groaned, plopping down to an empty space in the circle. "I don't even know what the fuck you guys are talking about."
"Well, that's entirely your fault for refusing to help us before now," Hunter replied. "We don't have the time to fill you in on every little detail. We're kind of on a deadline."
"What deadline?" Speed snapped. "Fifty fucking bucks says that you idiots are still sitting here arguing over bullshit that doesn't matter until at least tomorrow afternoon." He turned to Slingshot. "I honestly have no idea how you can manage these morons," he muttered to him.
"Lots of practice and lots of patience," Slingshot muttered back.
"Julius was the son of the woman my father married," Spot explained, coming down the hall and walking into the lobby. "My father insisted on adopting the piece of shit, which is the only reason that detestable human being used to share my last name," he explained, approaching the circle of his sitting subordinates. "Are we done with the inane chatter now?" he asked, hands behind his back as he gave everyone a glare.
The lobby experienced quiet for the first time since morning.
"That's a big help, too," Slingshot leaned in to whisper to Speed.
"Fantastic," Spot replied to the silence. He smirked. "Time to get planning then."
It took less than a week for the gang to find out exactly what made John Stanton wake up in the morning. It took three more days to bring it all crashing down around him.
"I robbed his place last night," Slingshot said. "Planted so much weed the drugs dogs are probably barking themselves hoarse. The shit he owned wasn't wonderful, but we did get a couple more TV's out of it."
"I told all his suppliers that he's a rat," Hunter said. "Congratulations, we are now the first gang in New York City to have ever ratted on someone."
"I'm sure that's not true," Gadget replied before giving his own report. "He didn't have much information out there anyway, but I did erase what he did have. Which means no more social security card. I'd like to see that bastard try to get a job now!"
"That seems very tame in comparison to everything else we did to him," Bam said.
"I think he did fine," Speed said before his cousin could respond. He squeezed Gadget's shoulder. "I destroyed the fuck out of his car and his bike, so he won't be going anywhere for awhile."
"I took pictures of his wife with the fat piece of shit she's cheating on him with," Bam said when everyone's attention fell on him. "Shit was not pretty; trust me on that. He'll get them in the mail at the motel he just checked into after Spot tried to burn his house down."
"I did burn his house down, just not all of it," Spot argued.
"It's not 'burning a house down' if you only manage to burn an eighth of the house," Bam pointed out. "The roof didn't cave in or anything."
"Can he live in it right now?" Spot snapped.
"He most certainly cannot," Hunter answered enthusiastically.
Spot sent a glare to Hunter before focusing back on Bam. "Right, so, mission accomplished then, huh?"
Bam just shrugged in response. "So, what now, big boss man? Cause right now he's headed for jail, and they're going to be stuck once they realize he's not a registered citizen of this country. Then the cops are going to be even more confused when they find out no country's willing to claim him."
"I actually hadn't thought this far ahead," Spot admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "At this point, jail's gotta be looking pretty good, right?" He started pacing around the lobby. "And I definitely don't want him feeling relief, even if we fucked him up so bad the relief is that he can go to jail."
"So, we break him out?" Bam asked, looking around the group. "Is that something we know how to do?"
"I"ve actually been extremely surprised at everything we've been able to do to this guy," Slingshot replied. "At any rate-"
"Except for Spot's arson," Hunter interrupted. "I'm pretty sure everybody saw that one coming."
"At any rate," Slingshot repeated, glaring at Hunter before focusing his attention back on the group as a whole, "we've got almost fifty members here now. I'm sure one of them knows how to break someone out of jail."
"I'm not trusting those little assholes with something this important," Spot snapped. "Jesus, they'd probably fuck it all up after pissing themselves."
"If you'd stop intimidating them during training sessions maybe they wouldn't be terrified of you!" Slingshot exclaimed.
"I'm not intimidating them!" Spot argued. "All I'm doing is telling them to exercise, for god's sake."
"Yeah, and threatening them with death when they can't do it!" Slingshot snapped. "That's called intimidation, Spot!"
"Who the fuck can't do a few jumping jacks?" Spot asked, glaring at his second-in-command.
"It's not a few jumping jacks!" Slingshot exclaimed. "Last week Landon told me that you were trying to make him run five miles when he has a broken leg!"
"Okay, first, who the fuck name's a kid 'Landon'? That's gotta be the stupidest name I've ever heard," Spot replied, no longer glaring.
"Says the kid named 'Spot'," Hunter mumbled to Speed, too quiet for their boss to hear.
"Second," Spot continued, "That leg is not fucking broken. The guy's a pussy. It's a sprain at the very worst, but I'd bet that it's absolutely nothing and he's just milking it. Right?" he asked, turning to Stealth who was leaning against a wall several feet away. As soon as Stealth nodded Spot turned back to Slingshot. "Ha! Told you so!"
Slingshot shot a quick glare at Stealth before looking back at Spot. "He doesn't even know Landon, Spot! There's no way he could know about his ankle."
"Doesn't matter," Spot shrugged off. "Stealth's always right."
"Easy to be right all the time when you never fucking talk," Speed whispered quiet enough that only Hunter heard.
"Se-sean," John Stanton gasped out, stumbling into the lobby. His clothes were barely held together, half burned, and he was sporting several bruises on his face as well as a limp. "I-I need help. Everyone's after me! Everyone! I-I … What do I do? What did I do?" he asked, his eyes wide as he quickly scanned the room. He stumbled over to Spot and fell into him, grabbing him around the middle.
"Get the fuck off of me, you slug," Spot said, kicking him off. "You want to know what you did? You fucking existed, you piece of fucking garbage. I thought I told you that already."
"Th-the cops are looking for me!" John began, clutching onto Spot's foot from his spot on the floor. "And so are all these gangs! They're saying I ratted them out to the cops! But I didn't! I swear I didn't! And I think they might've burned my house down!"
At this, Spot sent a pleased smirk over to Bam. Bam rolled his eyes, getting his boss's message loud and clear. TOLD you I burned that sucker down.
"They just jumped me," John continued, oblivious to the silent message that was being passed between the two boys. "Told me the cops were looking for me. They think they're looking for me so I can pass on more information. But I didn't pass on anything! I don't talk to cops, Sean! I swear I don't! But now I'm not safe anywhere, and-!"
"Jesus fucking Christ, stop fucking rambling! Do you ever shut the fucking hell up?" Spot finally asked, kicking the man off his shoe. "God damn it, you think I give a shit about your stupid fucking problems?"
"Well, I mean, that's not exactly the truth," Speed told Hunter quiet enough that the rest of the room didn't hear. "We've kind of been focusing on his problems for the last three days."
"Ha! Good point, chum," Hunter said, matching his volume as he slung an arm around his shoulders.
"Not your chum," Speed said, shaking his head as he stepped aside and caused Hunter's arm to drop.
"What the fuck are you doing coming here anyway?" Spot asked, kicking John back as the man tried to crawl towards him again. "I'd fucking kill you if I didn't know it'd put you out of your misery."
"You did all this, didn't you?" John asked, looking up at Spot with wide eyes. "If you're the one who caused it then you can fix it! I can't go to jail, Sean! I can't! And everybody in New York thinks I'm a rat now! I can't go hide with another gang; they'll fucking kill me. You didn't leave me with any options!"
"Ugh, that was the point, you fucking idiot!" Spot shouted before roundhousing him in the side of the head. The man slid several feet before staying there, motionless.
"Jesus," Bam said, looking at the man for several seconds before looking back at Sean. "You kill him, you think?"
Spot shrugged before fishing in his pocket for cigarettes. "Dunno. Maybe. Hopefully. It'd make him shut the fuck up at least."
"I think you're being a little bit harsh," Speed said, walking over to the man now face down on the lobby floor. He checked his pulse as he avoided the blood that was leaking from his head.
"I said I wanted to make the fucktard suffer, didn't I?" Spot asked, lighting up his cigarette.
"Yeah, and he did," Speed pointed out. "Don't you think it's time to let up now? I mean, Jesus, dude," he said, waving a hand in John's direction. "Does that not look like suffering to you?"
"Looks like he's still alive," Spot said, shrugging again as he took a hit of his cigarette. "Definitely looks like he can suffer more."
"Yeah, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he deserves-"
"Do I really have to remind you that this is the same piece of shit douchebag that took out a gun while in the same room as Gadget?" Spot asked Speed.
"Fine, let the douchebag suffer," Speed replied, putting his hands up in surrender. "You're right. Fuck that dude."
"Fantastic!" Spot said with a wide smirk on his face. He took a few steps towards the unconscious body only to be stopped by Slingshot.
"Okay, let's think about this for a second," Slingshot suggested, pushing slightly on Spot's chest and sending him back a few steps.
Spot shot a look at Stealth before turning back to glare at his second-in-command.
"Remember how you just said you hadn't thought your plan through?" Slingshot continued, keeping his hands up. "Well, let's take the time now, okay? First option, we turn him over to the cops. What'll happen to him?"
"They'll probably put him back into the system and fuck up all my hard work," Gadget grumbled.
"Language, Gadget," Speed hissed before addressing the group. "I assume he'll get raped. Probably fucked up. Just because they're locked up doesn't mean the inmates won't have heard about what's going on outside. They'll have heard he's a rat."
"Second option," Slingshot said after giving a head nod to Speed, "We throw him outside and let the other gangs have at him. And they'll do … what?" he asked, looking around the group.
"Probably fuck him up and rape him," Hunter supplied with a smirk. "And we might get to see it depending on where they find him."
"Why the fuck would you want to see a guy get raped, you twisted fuck?" Bam asked, blanching at the thought.
"Back on track, guys!" Slingshot demanded, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. "Option three, we fuck him up and," he turned to frown at Hunter, "hopefully not rape him ourselves."
"Which would be extremely satisfying," Spot said before shooting his own look toward Hunter. "The fucking up thing, anyway. I'm not in on the raping thing."
"Option four," Slingshot continued before they could get off track again, "we take him up on his plea for sanctuary."
Spot whirled around to glare at him. "And why the fuck is that even an option?"
"To prolong the inevitable!" Slingshot explained, his eyes wide as Spot advanced on him. "You can torment him for the rest of his life! Always making sure he's lacking a basic necessity of life. Kicking him down every time he gets confidence or self esteem."
"You are a beautiful man, Sling," Spot said, a smile forming on his face. He strode over to Rambler, kicking him in the side to roll him over onto his back. He knelt down beside him as soon as he heard a groan. "Listen up, Rambler, you sack of shit," he said, lifting up the man's head. "Slingshot saved you, you hear me?" He shook Rambler's head by the hair, eliciting another groan. "Consider yourself protected."
Rambler's head dropped to the ground with a loud thump, making him groan once more.
Spot got up and started across the room, towards the check-in desk. "Just because he's a member of this gang doesn't mean he gets a bed," he told Slingshot as he strode past him.
Spot supposed it wasn't so bad to have Rambler under his thumb. He could kill him whenever he wanted because he was a part of his gang. The cops wouldn't know who he was if they stumbled upon his body somewhere down the line, since Gadget had taken him out of the system. And other gangs wouldn't give a fuck about him since they thought he was a rat.
And it did feel pretty good to have complete control over the douchebag that had helped make his life a living hell all those years ago. It was a pretty powerful feeling, truth be told.
Spot remembered years ago when Stealth used to tell him that he'd know when the time came for him to own Brooklyn. Sean had always just assumed he was bullshitting, or at the very most exaggerating.
But now, Spot knew exactly what Stealth had been talking about, because he felt this down to his very bones. After all these years and all his work, now was finally the time everything would pay off.
"Boys," Spot called, jumping on top of the check-in desk and turning to his seven most trusted members. The smirk on his face was growing by the minute. "It's time to take over Brooklyn."
END
... at least where the Past!chapters are concerned. Hopefully you enjoyed them! :)