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Spot Conlon sat alone on the dock, his gray eyes piercing the watery depths. He had never ever felt truly alone like this, not since Bright Eyes had left years earlier. His children were gone, out to sell their papers they had said, all save his youngest child Gabriel. Still a newborn, Gabriel hadn't shown what attribute that would give him a Newsie name. But Spot didn't care. That morning he had held his youngest son in his arms, looked into the baby's large, knowing gray eyes and had cried. He had cried. He, Spot Conlon. He had held his son to his chest as he cried silently. And his son, he felt as though his son knew his pain, for his small fist stretched around his father's broad shoulder and patted his back gently, with small feathery pats.

"Spot. I need ta tawk ta ya." Spot cleared the tears that had welled up in his eyes and jumped to his feet, turning. Bright Eyes stood in front of him uneasily, her hands stuck in her pockets. Spot stared at her. Her attire had changed, her hat that she always wore as a Newsie was on her head, making her childhood face peek out of her eyes at the former Brooklyn leader. "What are you doin' Bright?" Spot asked quietly. "I wanna apologize." She said quietly. "Fer what? You ain't done nothin' ta me." Spot said, turning away from her. Bright Eyes walked in front of him, forcing him to look at her. "No I did. I hoit you. Da udda night I mean. An' I need ta tell you dat I'm gonna tell Race. 'Bout us before." She said hesitantly. Spot nodded. "Well ya ceitanly took long enough 'bout it. I mean, even Blue knows." He said smoothly.

Bright Eyes blushed and nodded. "I shouldn't have kept it from him so long." She murmured. "No kiddin'. 'Specially since practically all yer friends an' mine know 'bout it." Spot said. "Who?" Bright Eyes asked incredulously. "Jest fer instance, Jack Kelly. He's known 'bout it since it happened an' he ain't told Race yet." Bright Eyes nodded. "Good ol' Kelly. What am I gonna say Spot?" She whispered. Spot's sober face melted somewhat and he put his hand gently on her cheek. "Jest what happened. If he really loves ya, den it shouldn't be a problem. An' I know he loves ya." Spot said gently. Bright Eyes smiled and her hand fingered the large fingers resting on her cheek. "Spot, I didn't mean what I said, dat when you said dat if we had gotten tegedda, we woulda been misreable. We probably woulda woiked it out. Mebey we coulda even been happy." Spot smiled. "I dunno Bright. We was both really stubborn back den." He said warningly.

"Yeah, but we still are now." Bright Eyes countered. Spot laughed long and hard as Bright Eyes grinned. "It'll all woik out Spot. Everytin'. Sketch'll come back. I know it." Bright Eyes whispered. "Bright Eyes! Hey Bright! Spot! I need ya!" Bright Eyes turned around quickly to face Racetrack, who came running up fast, a boy following close behind. "We got trouble." Racetrack panted. Spot grinned. "Whassa matta Race? You gittin' old?" He asked. Racetrack looked up and there was laughter in his brown eyes. "Well I ain't DAT old." He said.

The boy beside Racetrack spoke up anxiously. "We gotta head back ta Queens! Dere's trouble! Everybody's in trouble! Angel an' Jade an', an' Sketch!" He said hurriedly. Spot's face paled and he grasped the boy by the shoulders. "Did you say Sketch? Sketch Conlon?" He whispered. "Yeah! Jade sent me ta git ya! Both of ya's! But ya gotta hurry 'cause Osca's gonna blow dey're brains out if we don't hurry I jest know it!" He yelled. "How do ya know our kids?" Bright Eyes asked. "I jest do. Yer dawta's been followin' me aroun'. Tryin' ta git me ta stop doin' what I'm doin'. You got a right stubborn goil you do." The boy said incriminatingly. "Yeah, she gets it from her mudda." Racetrack said quietly, a smile playing about his lips. Bright Eyes frowned and punched his arm. "What's yer name kid?" She asked.

"It's Wolf. C'mon we gotta go! Now! I know where it is!" Bright Eyes turned to Spot. "You up to it?" Spot straightened his shoulders. "I'm up ta anytin', jest so long as I git my kid back." He said firmly. Racetrack nodded and began to talk to the boy on directions as the group began to run in the direction of Queens. "What 'bout Blue?" Bright Eyes asked. Spot shook his head. "I don't tink she'd leave Gabriel. 'Sides, I don't want her to." He said. "What 'bout Race?" Spot asked. Bright Eyes eyed him, then looked away. "It'll hafta wait." She said quietly.

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