xXc0okieSsNcrEamXx: I'm glad you're enjoying my work. Hopefully this chapter does this next character justice. Part of it was based off our pm convo.
As said in the first chapter I don't own West Side Story. If I did, Riff wouldn't have died.
To Baby John, Riff was associated with protection. Being the youngest member of the Jets, he found himself leaning on his fellow gang members quite a bit. While some Jets like Action or Diesel liked to tease him good naturedly, Riff had never appeared to mind this.
Off the top of his head, Baby John could name countless memories where Riff had stepped up to protect him. When he'd first joined and was chased by rival gang members, It had been Riff who had showed up alongside Tony to beat the crap out of the other boys in his defense at his shouts for help. He remembered the lack of hesitation from Riff as the other boy had thrown himself at the rival gang members. They had been outnumbered two to four but Riff and Tony beat the rival gang members off their turf.
Baby John remembered the day he joined clearly. He had been getting picked on for his quieter more timid nature. He hadn't been sure when the other guy had began wailing on him but he remembered when it stopped out of nowhere. Baby John had looked up and there was Riff standing between him and the bully. The other boy, too scared to cross the coleader of the Jets backed off like a small puppy with his tail between his legs.
Currently the youngest of the Jets sat on the streets. His left eye was purple and swelled shut. A cut on the side of his temple slowly stopped bleeding. The sound of footsteps sounded from his left and Baby John flinched covering his head with his arms, one of which was broken.
The footsteps stopped next to him. Baby John squeezed his good eye shut, waiting for a blow that never came. When he looked up in a hesitant way, his good eye locked on Riff.
Riff looked down at his youngest member before crouching down to his level so he didn't scare Baby John further. "Who did this to ya?" He questioned calmly. Too calmly. Riffs blood was boiling at the sight before him. Who dared to hurt one of his own?
"I-It d-doesn't matter." Baby John muttered softly biting his lip nervously.
Riff pursed his lips. He was gentle in checking for other injuries, noting the broken arm, eye injury and various bruises and cuts. Baby John could only marvel at how gentle the older boy was.
"It does matter, Baby John. You're a Jet." Riff said patiently in the same eerily calm voice. "It's okay, tell me who did this. I will handle it."
"But..." Baby John started weakly only to be cut off.
"No buts. You're a Jet and we protect our own."
Baby John gave up the identity of the person who had harmed him and he could see Riff file that away for later.
"Can ya walk buddyboy?"
"I don't think so. I think I sprained my ankle."
Riff carefully manuevered Baby John to pick him up and physically carry him to Valentinas. While embarrassed by having to be carried, the youngest Jet couldn't deny there was security and safety even in knowing that Riff would take care of everything.