"Wassa matta Conlon. I woulda tought dat you'd be to eager ta help yer former goil?" Spot flinched quickly as Oscar spat out the words, but in a second he was tall and erect once more. "I mean, her dawta could die. Yeah, dis goil, her dawta dat coulda been yers huh? If Bright hadn't fallen in love with' da Gambla ova dere." Dere was an explosion of angry yells from Racetrack, who tried his best to fight past Bright Eyes' protective barrier. "You don't know what yer tawkin' 'bout Osca an' yer stoopin' too low dis time!" He yelled angrily. "What? You didn't know 'bout Bright's little love affair?" Racetrack stared at him indignantly. "Yeah, she an' Spot were real pally before she fell fer ya." Oscar grinned. Then he cocked his head and stared at Racetrack in mock sadness. "She neva tell ya 'bout dat? But dat figures. Dis IS Bright Eyes. Always da liar. You know Spot. She left ya wit' no reasons or answers, didn't even tell ya actually. Ya had ta watch her leave yerself. An' Race, she left you widout any answers too. An' neva told ya dat Spot was da reason she left Brooklyn. Yeah. Good ol' Bright Eyes." Oscar murmured.
Bright Eyes stared at Oscar, her face pale. "Oh an' Race, you wanna know why she neva told ya or anyone else fer dat matta?" Oscar asked. Racetrack's face was solid stone, completely unmoving. "Because she didn't want Spot's popularity ta git hoit. Ain't dat sweet? She didn't tell you even afta you was married because of Spot's popularity. Hmm. Who do ya tink she really loves Gambla? Huh?" Racetrack stared pale-faced at Oscar, then turned to Bright Eyes. She didn't speak, they merely stared at each other, their eyes locking. Finally he turned away, back to Oscar. "Let me dawta go Osca. Dis ain't worth nothin'." He said tiredly.
"Naw I tink it is. Much more worth it. Ya know Wolfy, it was nice of ya ta set all dis up. Git da Higgins an' da Conlons all in one place jest fer me. Danks." Oscar said, nodding generously in Wolf's direction. "Now Conlon, make up yer mind. Whats yer choice?" Oscar asked, his voice once more turning steely. Blue stepped up closer to Spot, her hand grasping his. His eyes glanced down at her temporarily before flickering up at Angel, her frightened face, then at Oscar.
Wolf stared, his heart full and angry. Stared at the Brooklyn leader, stared at Angel's parents, stared at Sketch and Jade, both so different yet alike, stared at Angel, her face beginning to turn from it's healthy rose color to a white, her breath restricted, coming out in short puffs as Oscar's grip on her neck grew tighter. He shut his eyes angrily, but even in darkness her helpless blue eyes stared at him. He opened them and they were there once more. Spot took a step forward. Quincy and Raven started, Racetrack stared in horror, Bright Eyes began to yell, Blue put her hand on her mouth, Sketch yelled and began to run forward, Jade placed her body in front of his, holding him back, Angel rolling her eyes back in her head, she couldn't breath, she couldn't breath.
Wolf didn't even hear himself scream, didn't feel the pain in his arm as he leapt upon Oscar. Had Oscar not been injured, the bullet would have gone right into Wolf's heart. But he was hurt just enough that the bullet missed Wolf completely as he knocked Oscar to the ground. He pushed Angel's weak body out of the way, Bright Eyes running to her. Wolf stared at Oscar, his blue eyes wide and furious. "You leave dem alone. Look at 'em. You had a kid. You didn't want him ta die eida did ya? But he is. You cain't change dat, but ya kin hona him by leavin' udda kids alone. Look at dem." Wolf hissed angrily, pointing to Bright Eyes and Racetrack, holding onto Angel closely. "Is dat what you did when you found yer kid? You wanted ta kill 'em. What's it gonna do if you go an' kill someone else's kid an' cause dem pain? You already did dat ta me. Ya took me fadda an' me mudda. Don't do it again."
Oscar stared up at Wolf, his eyes almost uncomprehending of the boy's words. "Osca, I've spent most of me life lookin' fer ya ta kill ya. Now I've realized dat you ain't woith it. Go back ta robbin' big businesses. I ain't got nothin' ta do wit' ya no more." Wolf shook Oscar's collar as he stood up, staring at him before breaking it off and walking steadily to Angel. She stared at him, then back at Oscar still lying on the floor and took his hand. Oscar sat up, stared at them, and eyed the pistol on the floor beside him. He had one bullet left. Bullets shouldn't be wasted. He grasped it uneasily, Wolf's words still ringing in his ears.
He picked it up, aimed it at the small of Wolf's back, and cocked it. He sat, waiting till his nausea passed, till his cowardice passed and aimed. As he began to pull the trigger, small hands grasped his head, pulling his body downwards. The gun went off, shattering the ceiling. The group stared at Oscar, then at the children swarming down the hall. Falcon Kelly took Oscar's head from the former body and slammed it into the floor, unconsiousness taking him over. He grinned and smacked his hands together. "Great woik leada! Dat was some fine woik, grabbin' him 'fore he could shoot Wolf!" Falcon said proudly to Flames. Flames grinned as he sat on Oscar's chest. "Yeah I did do good didn't I? You wasn't bad yerself Kelly." Flames said, putting an arm around Falcon's shoulder. Falcon grinned shyly. "Not as good as you did trippin' Morris back dere." Falcon countered. "Well I admit dat was a stroke of genius on my part, but you an' da uddas played a great part." Flames said with a smile.
Sketch looked at his little brother as he stood up off of Oscar's chest and stood awkwardly to the side. Sketch walked quickly over to him and drew him into his arms. Flames sat there awkwardly for a moment, before he gently put his arms around Sketch's neck. Finally they drew apart and the two brothers looked at each other. "Sketch, why'd ya run away? Is it my fault? I tought it was but," Sketch put his finger over his little brother's mouth and shook his head. "Naw it wasn't you. It was me stupid mind playin' tricks on me. I thought dat Papa didn't care 'bout me anymore 'cause I didn't wanna be leada." Sketch murmured. Flames stared at him in bewilderment. "You kiddin'? You thought he fergot 'bout ya? When Papa was trainin' it was 'Sketch does it like dis,' or 'Ya know Sketch's technique is betta'. He didn't fergit 'bout ya!" Sketch stared at his brother in amazement. "Really?" He murmured. "Yeah really. Ya tink I'd lie? He missed ya Sketch." Flames whispered.
Sketch nodded and set Flames on the ground, walking over to where his father stood with his mother, surrounded by all the younger Conlons. Spot saw him coming and stepped away from the crowd. "Hey." Spot said. "Hey yerself." Sketch retorted, feeling uncomfortable. There was a moments silence before Sketch began to speak. "Well I, I don't really know what ta say. I mean, I ran off 'cause I didn't tink you wanted me aroun', an'," Spot cut him off. "Why would you tink dat?" He asked. "Mebey 'cause ya spent all yer time wit' Flames an' none wit' me." Sketch retorted. Spot stared at him. "I guess I sorta did dat huh? I didn't mean ta Sketch. I was jest caught up wit' it. I didn't fergit 'bout ya. How could I fergit 'bout you anyway? Yer my son. Da foist son I eva had before Flames." Spot said fondly. Sketch eyed him. "You called him 'Slingshot'." He said, putting his hands on his chest.
To Sketch's surprise, Spot blushed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ta tell ya da truth, dat slipped me tongue. At dat moment he looked jest like you did when you was a kid an', it jest slipped. I'm sorry 'bout dat." He said uncomfortably. "If it makes any difference, Flames was really mad 'bout it. He turned 'round an' he said, 'Papa, whaddya tinkin'? I'm Flames! Now yer upsettin' me concentration by callin' me by Sketch's name!'" Spot laughed. Sketch stared at him in amazement. "But I thought dat you was mad at me fer not wantin' ta be leada." He murmered. Spot stared at him in confusion. "Where'd you git dat idea?" He asked. "Well, you, I dunno. You jest looked at me weird when I told ya." Spot looked at him and shook his head. "I jest thought dats all you wanted ta do. It jest took me by surprise dats all. I wasn't mad at ya."
Sketch stared at Spot and shook his head. "Oh. Well, I, I dunno what ta tink. I feel like such an' idiot." Sketch muttered. "If it makes ya feel any betta, I feel more like an' idiot dan you." Sketch looked up at his father, waiting for him to continue. "I mean, I ignored ya widout meanin' to. But I did. I'm sorry fer dat." Sketch looked down at the floor, his face red. But when he looked up, his pride was evident in his face. "Papa, I'm proud ta be yer son. I mean, I'm glad dat you wasn't mad when I said I didn't wanna be leada. Bein' leada jest ain't sometin' dats suited ta me. I'd radda do sometin' else. But dat don't mean dat I don't appreciate ya an' love ya. I do. An' I'm sorry dat I hoit ya by runnin' off." Sketch said strongly.
Spot looked at his son, shook his head and smiled. "Yer a much betta kid dan I eva was Sketch. An' most likely you'll be a much betta man. I'm glad fer dat." Spot said gruffly, taking his son into his arms. Sketch threw his arms around his father and father and son were reunited. Blue looked up at them and smiled before turning back down to listen to Flames' summarization of the whole event. "An' Mama! I'm gonna do more stuff like dis soon!" He said happily. Instantly Blue looked down at her son and shook her head. "Na-uh! You might be leada of Brooklyn, but I'm still yer mudda an' you'll do as I say. An' I kin tell you dis, you'll tink twice before puttin' yer bruddas in anudda mess like dis again!" She said firmly. Flames' face fell and he looked to Spot, who looked down at him and shrugged. "Sorry kid. She's da boss." He said resolve. Flames crossed his arms across his chest. "But you'se is da man of da house." Flames insisted. "Yeah, but lemme tell ya's a little secret." Spot said, leaning down towards Flames. "I gotta let yer Mama tink dat she's got full reign ova da household, but doncha worry. Soon you an' me, we'll rebel." Spot whispered. Blue rolled her eyes. "I heaid dat." She muttered before shouldering Trouble. "Whaddya gonna do wit' Delancy?" Blue asked. "Well didn't tink 'bout dat. I'll give him a half hour for him ta wake up an' shove outta here 'fore I call da bulls on him. I tink he'll comply." Spot yelled loudly. Oscar flicked an eyelid, then sat straight up and ran out of the room. Spot and Blue began to laugh loudly, knowing he wouldn't be back.
Sketch grinned as Wolf sidled up to him, his blue eyes sparkling. "Heya Conlon. Kinda weird callin' ya dat. Ya know?" He said. Sketch grinned and shrugged. "It's still me. Conlon or not. So." Sketch said, unsure of what to say next. "So." Wolf echoed. "I wanna dank ya Sketch. Dank ya fer helpin' me out an' all dat. Even dough ya LIED," Wolf said, placing emphasis on da final word. "Even dough ya lied, I still regard ya as me friend an', an' I respect ya. Always will." Wolf said, putting out his hand. Sketch shook his head, spit into his hand and held it out. Wolf stared at Sketch, then at his outstretched hand. "What is dis? You Newsies' way of hygiene?" He asked. "I dunno. We jest always does it. Seals a bargain." Sketch said, shrugging. "Alrighty den. But if anyone asks I'm just sharin' da love here." Wolf muttered, eyeing his hand, spitting on it and shaking hands with Sketch.
Angel glanced at her parents. They were both happy, both grateful for their children's lives, but they were still not united in their happiness. Angel knew what it was about. Her mother had tried to speak to her father, but he had pushed her away. She shook her head. She glanced over at Wolf, finally reunited with his boys. He spoke a few parting words to them and the group left. He walked over to her and smiled. "Hey. Jest told 'em ta go do whateva. I'll meet 'em next week." He said. "Whaddya gonna do now dat it's all ova?" Angel asked. Wolf gave a small chuckle before continuing. "Well I really don't know. An' dats da truth. I really don't. I was jest tinkin' 'bout dat. I mean, me an' da boys have been trough so much already dat I'd hate ta leave 'em." Wolf shook his head sadly.
"Ya eva thought 'bout bein' a Newsie?" Angel asked. Wolf looked up at her, his black eyebrows raised. " 'Cause I mean, I know dat it'd be a big difference from huntin' down people but hey, it pays okay an' you git ta woik honestly." Angel explained. Wolf chuckled. "Tryin' ta make me an' honest guy huh Angel?" Angel crossed her arms across her chest. "Well dats da only way Mama an' Papa would eva let me see ya again anyway." She pointed out. Wolf looked at her and smiled. "Dang you tink of everytin' doncha Angel?" He asked. "Yeah pretty much." She replied, a self-satisfied smile on her face.
There was a few moments of silence before Wolf broke it. "Um, dat was a really brave ting dat you did back dere. He coulda killed ya." Wolf murmured, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably. Angel nodded. "It was hard ta do. But I did it anyway. Dere was too much at stake ta not do it." She said. "Ya know wit' as much bravado an' courage dat I CLAIM ta have, I dunno if I coulda done dat, done what you did." Angel cocked her head. "But you did Wolf. You jumped Osca fer me. Ya jumped him an' tried ta git him ta change his mind. Dat was probably braver dan what I did. You not only tried ta save me but everyone else there, including Spot."
Wolf shook his head. "Don't make me da hero Angel. I ain't no hero. I'm jest anudda bum on da streets wit' no brain an' no name." Angel reached out and grasped his hand. "You ain't no bum. An' you gots a brain. Dere's no way dat ya coulda planned all dat stuff out widout one. No way. An' hey, I know you got a name. Yer Wolf ta me. An' yer Wolf ta everyone here. You got a name. I got you an' you got me. So how kin ya say dat yer nothin'?" Angel whispered. Wolf looked up at Angel and for a moment, understanding entered his eyes. "Yer amazin' Angel." He whispered. Angel grinned and squeezed his hand tighter. "Amazin's my middle name, Mistah." She whispered. Wolf grinned and leaned his head onto hers, standing still in a moment, finally feeling that perhaps, he could be someone.
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Bright Eyes stared at Oscar, her face pale. "Oh an' Race, you wanna know why she neva told ya or anyone else fer dat matta?" Oscar asked. Racetrack's face was solid stone, completely unmoving. "Because she didn't want Spot's popularity ta git hoit. Ain't dat sweet? She didn't tell you even afta you was married because of Spot's popularity. Hmm. Who do ya tink she really loves Gambla? Huh?" Racetrack stared pale-faced at Oscar, then turned to Bright Eyes. She didn't speak, they merely stared at each other, their eyes locking. Finally he turned away, back to Oscar. "Let me dawta go Osca. Dis ain't worth nothin'." He said tiredly.
"Naw I tink it is. Much more worth it. Ya know Wolfy, it was nice of ya ta set all dis up. Git da Higgins an' da Conlons all in one place jest fer me. Danks." Oscar said, nodding generously in Wolf's direction. "Now Conlon, make up yer mind. Whats yer choice?" Oscar asked, his voice once more turning steely. Blue stepped up closer to Spot, her hand grasping his. His eyes glanced down at her temporarily before flickering up at Angel, her frightened face, then at Oscar.
Wolf stared, his heart full and angry. Stared at the Brooklyn leader, stared at Angel's parents, stared at Sketch and Jade, both so different yet alike, stared at Angel, her face beginning to turn from it's healthy rose color to a white, her breath restricted, coming out in short puffs as Oscar's grip on her neck grew tighter. He shut his eyes angrily, but even in darkness her helpless blue eyes stared at him. He opened them and they were there once more. Spot took a step forward. Quincy and Raven started, Racetrack stared in horror, Bright Eyes began to yell, Blue put her hand on her mouth, Sketch yelled and began to run forward, Jade placed her body in front of his, holding him back, Angel rolling her eyes back in her head, she couldn't breath, she couldn't breath.
Wolf didn't even hear himself scream, didn't feel the pain in his arm as he leapt upon Oscar. Had Oscar not been injured, the bullet would have gone right into Wolf's heart. But he was hurt just enough that the bullet missed Wolf completely as he knocked Oscar to the ground. He pushed Angel's weak body out of the way, Bright Eyes running to her. Wolf stared at Oscar, his blue eyes wide and furious. "You leave dem alone. Look at 'em. You had a kid. You didn't want him ta die eida did ya? But he is. You cain't change dat, but ya kin hona him by leavin' udda kids alone. Look at dem." Wolf hissed angrily, pointing to Bright Eyes and Racetrack, holding onto Angel closely. "Is dat what you did when you found yer kid? You wanted ta kill 'em. What's it gonna do if you go an' kill someone else's kid an' cause dem pain? You already did dat ta me. Ya took me fadda an' me mudda. Don't do it again."
Oscar stared up at Wolf, his eyes almost uncomprehending of the boy's words. "Osca, I've spent most of me life lookin' fer ya ta kill ya. Now I've realized dat you ain't woith it. Go back ta robbin' big businesses. I ain't got nothin' ta do wit' ya no more." Wolf shook Oscar's collar as he stood up, staring at him before breaking it off and walking steadily to Angel. She stared at him, then back at Oscar still lying on the floor and took his hand. Oscar sat up, stared at them, and eyed the pistol on the floor beside him. He had one bullet left. Bullets shouldn't be wasted. He grasped it uneasily, Wolf's words still ringing in his ears.
He picked it up, aimed it at the small of Wolf's back, and cocked it. He sat, waiting till his nausea passed, till his cowardice passed and aimed. As he began to pull the trigger, small hands grasped his head, pulling his body downwards. The gun went off, shattering the ceiling. The group stared at Oscar, then at the children swarming down the hall. Falcon Kelly took Oscar's head from the former body and slammed it into the floor, unconsiousness taking him over. He grinned and smacked his hands together. "Great woik leada! Dat was some fine woik, grabbin' him 'fore he could shoot Wolf!" Falcon said proudly to Flames. Flames grinned as he sat on Oscar's chest. "Yeah I did do good didn't I? You wasn't bad yerself Kelly." Flames said, putting an arm around Falcon's shoulder. Falcon grinned shyly. "Not as good as you did trippin' Morris back dere." Falcon countered. "Well I admit dat was a stroke of genius on my part, but you an' da uddas played a great part." Flames said with a smile.
Sketch looked at his little brother as he stood up off of Oscar's chest and stood awkwardly to the side. Sketch walked quickly over to him and drew him into his arms. Flames sat there awkwardly for a moment, before he gently put his arms around Sketch's neck. Finally they drew apart and the two brothers looked at each other. "Sketch, why'd ya run away? Is it my fault? I tought it was but," Sketch put his finger over his little brother's mouth and shook his head. "Naw it wasn't you. It was me stupid mind playin' tricks on me. I thought dat Papa didn't care 'bout me anymore 'cause I didn't wanna be leada." Sketch murmured. Flames stared at him in bewilderment. "You kiddin'? You thought he fergot 'bout ya? When Papa was trainin' it was 'Sketch does it like dis,' or 'Ya know Sketch's technique is betta'. He didn't fergit 'bout ya!" Sketch stared at his brother in amazement. "Really?" He murmured. "Yeah really. Ya tink I'd lie? He missed ya Sketch." Flames whispered.
Sketch nodded and set Flames on the ground, walking over to where his father stood with his mother, surrounded by all the younger Conlons. Spot saw him coming and stepped away from the crowd. "Hey." Spot said. "Hey yerself." Sketch retorted, feeling uncomfortable. There was a moments silence before Sketch began to speak. "Well I, I don't really know what ta say. I mean, I ran off 'cause I didn't tink you wanted me aroun', an'," Spot cut him off. "Why would you tink dat?" He asked. "Mebey 'cause ya spent all yer time wit' Flames an' none wit' me." Sketch retorted. Spot stared at him. "I guess I sorta did dat huh? I didn't mean ta Sketch. I was jest caught up wit' it. I didn't fergit 'bout ya. How could I fergit 'bout you anyway? Yer my son. Da foist son I eva had before Flames." Spot said fondly. Sketch eyed him. "You called him 'Slingshot'." He said, putting his hands on his chest.
To Sketch's surprise, Spot blushed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Ta tell ya da truth, dat slipped me tongue. At dat moment he looked jest like you did when you was a kid an', it jest slipped. I'm sorry 'bout dat." He said uncomfortably. "If it makes any difference, Flames was really mad 'bout it. He turned 'round an' he said, 'Papa, whaddya tinkin'? I'm Flames! Now yer upsettin' me concentration by callin' me by Sketch's name!'" Spot laughed. Sketch stared at him in amazement. "But I thought dat you was mad at me fer not wantin' ta be leada." He murmered. Spot stared at him in confusion. "Where'd you git dat idea?" He asked. "Well, you, I dunno. You jest looked at me weird when I told ya." Spot looked at him and shook his head. "I jest thought dats all you wanted ta do. It jest took me by surprise dats all. I wasn't mad at ya."
Sketch stared at Spot and shook his head. "Oh. Well, I, I dunno what ta tink. I feel like such an' idiot." Sketch muttered. "If it makes ya feel any betta, I feel more like an' idiot dan you." Sketch looked up at his father, waiting for him to continue. "I mean, I ignored ya widout meanin' to. But I did. I'm sorry fer dat." Sketch looked down at the floor, his face red. But when he looked up, his pride was evident in his face. "Papa, I'm proud ta be yer son. I mean, I'm glad dat you wasn't mad when I said I didn't wanna be leada. Bein' leada jest ain't sometin' dats suited ta me. I'd radda do sometin' else. But dat don't mean dat I don't appreciate ya an' love ya. I do. An' I'm sorry dat I hoit ya by runnin' off." Sketch said strongly.
Spot looked at his son, shook his head and smiled. "Yer a much betta kid dan I eva was Sketch. An' most likely you'll be a much betta man. I'm glad fer dat." Spot said gruffly, taking his son into his arms. Sketch threw his arms around his father and father and son were reunited. Blue looked up at them and smiled before turning back down to listen to Flames' summarization of the whole event. "An' Mama! I'm gonna do more stuff like dis soon!" He said happily. Instantly Blue looked down at her son and shook her head. "Na-uh! You might be leada of Brooklyn, but I'm still yer mudda an' you'll do as I say. An' I kin tell you dis, you'll tink twice before puttin' yer bruddas in anudda mess like dis again!" She said firmly. Flames' face fell and he looked to Spot, who looked down at him and shrugged. "Sorry kid. She's da boss." He said resolve. Flames crossed his arms across his chest. "But you'se is da man of da house." Flames insisted. "Yeah, but lemme tell ya's a little secret." Spot said, leaning down towards Flames. "I gotta let yer Mama tink dat she's got full reign ova da household, but doncha worry. Soon you an' me, we'll rebel." Spot whispered. Blue rolled her eyes. "I heaid dat." She muttered before shouldering Trouble. "Whaddya gonna do wit' Delancy?" Blue asked. "Well didn't tink 'bout dat. I'll give him a half hour for him ta wake up an' shove outta here 'fore I call da bulls on him. I tink he'll comply." Spot yelled loudly. Oscar flicked an eyelid, then sat straight up and ran out of the room. Spot and Blue began to laugh loudly, knowing he wouldn't be back.
Sketch grinned as Wolf sidled up to him, his blue eyes sparkling. "Heya Conlon. Kinda weird callin' ya dat. Ya know?" He said. Sketch grinned and shrugged. "It's still me. Conlon or not. So." Sketch said, unsure of what to say next. "So." Wolf echoed. "I wanna dank ya Sketch. Dank ya fer helpin' me out an' all dat. Even dough ya LIED," Wolf said, placing emphasis on da final word. "Even dough ya lied, I still regard ya as me friend an', an' I respect ya. Always will." Wolf said, putting out his hand. Sketch shook his head, spit into his hand and held it out. Wolf stared at Sketch, then at his outstretched hand. "What is dis? You Newsies' way of hygiene?" He asked. "I dunno. We jest always does it. Seals a bargain." Sketch said, shrugging. "Alrighty den. But if anyone asks I'm just sharin' da love here." Wolf muttered, eyeing his hand, spitting on it and shaking hands with Sketch.
Angel glanced at her parents. They were both happy, both grateful for their children's lives, but they were still not united in their happiness. Angel knew what it was about. Her mother had tried to speak to her father, but he had pushed her away. She shook her head. She glanced over at Wolf, finally reunited with his boys. He spoke a few parting words to them and the group left. He walked over to her and smiled. "Hey. Jest told 'em ta go do whateva. I'll meet 'em next week." He said. "Whaddya gonna do now dat it's all ova?" Angel asked. Wolf gave a small chuckle before continuing. "Well I really don't know. An' dats da truth. I really don't. I was jest tinkin' 'bout dat. I mean, me an' da boys have been trough so much already dat I'd hate ta leave 'em." Wolf shook his head sadly.
"Ya eva thought 'bout bein' a Newsie?" Angel asked. Wolf looked up at her, his black eyebrows raised. " 'Cause I mean, I know dat it'd be a big difference from huntin' down people but hey, it pays okay an' you git ta woik honestly." Angel explained. Wolf chuckled. "Tryin' ta make me an' honest guy huh Angel?" Angel crossed her arms across her chest. "Well dats da only way Mama an' Papa would eva let me see ya again anyway." She pointed out. Wolf looked at her and smiled. "Dang you tink of everytin' doncha Angel?" He asked. "Yeah pretty much." She replied, a self-satisfied smile on her face.
There was a few moments of silence before Wolf broke it. "Um, dat was a really brave ting dat you did back dere. He coulda killed ya." Wolf murmured, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably. Angel nodded. "It was hard ta do. But I did it anyway. Dere was too much at stake ta not do it." She said. "Ya know wit' as much bravado an' courage dat I CLAIM ta have, I dunno if I coulda done dat, done what you did." Angel cocked her head. "But you did Wolf. You jumped Osca fer me. Ya jumped him an' tried ta git him ta change his mind. Dat was probably braver dan what I did. You not only tried ta save me but everyone else there, including Spot."
Wolf shook his head. "Don't make me da hero Angel. I ain't no hero. I'm jest anudda bum on da streets wit' no brain an' no name." Angel reached out and grasped his hand. "You ain't no bum. An' you gots a brain. Dere's no way dat ya coulda planned all dat stuff out widout one. No way. An' hey, I know you got a name. Yer Wolf ta me. An' yer Wolf ta everyone here. You got a name. I got you an' you got me. So how kin ya say dat yer nothin'?" Angel whispered. Wolf looked up at Angel and for a moment, understanding entered his eyes. "Yer amazin' Angel." He whispered. Angel grinned and squeezed his hand tighter. "Amazin's my middle name, Mistah." She whispered. Wolf grinned and leaned his head onto hers, standing still in a moment, finally feeling that perhaps, he could be someone.
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