Star Crossed Lovers- by Crunch
Ooh, the much-anticipated next chapter!!!
First must thank EVERYONE who reviewed my short, insignificant fuzzy stories: Shortie, butterfly, misprint, cards, randomness, Doll face, sparksdanewsie, Mondie, Keza, SeXyDaDdYmAgNeT69, Kathryn Mason-sykes, SeXyDaDdYmAgNeT69 AGAIN!!, Shortie AGAIN!!, Misprint AGAIN!!, Mondie AGAIN!! Doll Face AGAIN!!, and Rhapsody. You guys. . *sniffle* you rock so much! WAAAHAAAHAAA!!!!
*Morning Dew- Oh, I feel so guilty, I always update JUST before I get your reviews, and so I just miss you. Smack me if I ever neglect you in shout outs again!! Thank yo so reviewing!!! Yes, Blinks was great, but eh, that's the way it goes. I'm so gald you lik, keep r/r! p.s, I always meant to review, but I just wanted to say Sugar. . Rocked!!!
*Jo- oh, thankyou thankyou thankyou for reading!! Yes, I miss Blinks much, may he rest in peace. He'll be back in another fic, though, so don't worry! Be happy! Enjoy the update!! THANKYOU!!
*Mondie- in thanks for your loverly and MUCH appreciated run on review, I've decided to answer with a run on shout out: *ooh, I hope that window didn't hurt. . we welcome all muses, Jackie in the box. . .mm, them newsie names are hard to come by, and I do Love six strings *hugs charlie much*. . .yup, just like that, he sounds like a little prick already, don't he?. . .ahh, Mushie's six pack. . .I love Skittey. . . Oh he DID!! The nerve. . .heh heh sexy snarls. . . worry not for Skittery, he can handle himself. . .Mush on the other hand. . .OH thanks MUCHLY!! I dunno when you'll get around to reading this chapter, you've got a ways ta go, but thanks SOO much, you're my hero!! *skips of humming wind beneath my wings* lol. : D
*Shortie- I would just like to reiterate the fact that you ROCK beyond the telling of it, my idol and devil boss. You currantly share the *Best loyal reviewer* award, with Doll face, though she'd BETTER be updating, so you're edging her out!! HOO YAH!!! Ooh, Hope you feel better soon!! Ooh, *hides face in shame* could you send me your bio again? It kinda got deleted by my stupidity. Sorry!!! Pwease don't be mad?
*The Omniscient Bookseller- oh, oh, *staggers backwards, speechless with joy, until she trips over the computer stand* ow. Anyhoo, thatnk you SOOOOOOOOO much for the r/r, you are so talented, and I consider and honest opinion from you to be valuable beyond belief!!! Thank you again, this means a lot. I mean it. Keep reading!! *bows down humbely and runs off squeeling with more joy.*
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Racetrack sat immobilized with shock, stunned speechless by the fresh grief of the last few moments, choking back the tears that threatened to cloud his vision. Through the blood thundering in his ears, he heard Skittery, lightly sobbing along side of him. But none of that mattered anymore; not Skittery's pain, not Blink's body, lying cradled in his arms as it's warmth faded away. There was noone else in the world right now; only him. And Baron.
"Ruby." He barely heard the whisper escaping his own lips. "I thought I was doin' da right thing. Dah right thing fah us. Fah you." As he stared down in to the face of the boy who had been his best friend, Racetrack felt his eyes dry and his resolve stiffen. "I was wrong." Gently easing Blink onto the cobblestones, he stood on trembling legs, glancing around for Baron. The bastard was nowheres to be found.
At the same moment he forced himself to move forwards, speed and strength and hatred growing with each step he took, Skittery realized his plans.
"Race!" He called weakly, half running, half crawling towards his friend. "Race, stop. Stop and think." He grabbed at the newsie's arms, tears still streaming from his eyes. "Blink. . . he's gone, Race, he's dead, an' you can't bring 'im back. Just. . ."
"Get OFF!" Race pushed him away, never breaking his stride. He knew where he was headed now; the veils of greif had parted enough so that he could think with some semblance of reason. Baron was headed back to Brooklyn; to the Red Hook. He would sit and brag with his friends over a pint of whisky about how easily Blink had fallen, how quickly he, Baron the Great, had ended his life. 'Enjoy it while you can.' Racetrack thought murderously. 'You won't live much longer yourself.'
*.*.*.*
"Baron." Racetrack hardly needed to yell; it seemed Baron had been waiting, perched anxiously on the edge of his seat, for his enemy's arrival. He rose from his stool, motioning for his friends to remain seated as the Manhattenite stalked calmly through the entrance of the bar.
"Easy, fellas." He snickered, hand grasping eagerly for his pistol. "This'll be a breeze." Assuaged by the confidence of their leader, the Brooklyn newsies settled back down, ready to enjoy the show. Behind the counter, a haggard, half-dressed bar tender hissed for the busboy to run and get the bulls. Neither rival noticed. "How's Blinks, by da way, Race? 'e didn't look too good last time I saw 'im."
"Like you don't know."
Baron sniffed. "Ok, Racey, if dat's how you wanna play it. Tell 'im I says hi, when you sees 'im." Racetrack lunged, teeth bared and gun drawn. The stunned Brooklynite barely had time to raise up a defensive arm before they clashed. Though Baron, true to his confident nature, never really panicked until he heard the click of the hammer echoing in his ear.
"Tell 'im yourself." BOOM. Racetrack stood, parylized, as the pistol fell from his limp hand. He barely heard it hit the ground.
"Race!" The stunned newsie jumped a mile as the strong pare of arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Racetrack, snap out of it. . . Oh God." Skittery stopped in horror as he caught sight of Baron, lying still and bloody on the bar room floor. "What did you do?"
"I. . .I. . ." he couldn't bring himself to form the words.
"Nevah mind, Racey, you gotta go, da Bulls is comin'." He shoved his friend towards the doorway, where Mush, summoned by Skittery, was waiting with open arms to pull his friend away. "Get 'im outta heah, Mushy. Go!"
With a quick nod, Mush tugged the shocked boy out the door, eyes still fixed on the body.
"Jesus, Racetrack. What did you DO?" Skittery whispered as the bulls burst in.
"FREEZE! EVERYONE KEEP YOU HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM! NOBODY MOVES!"
*.*.*.*
"What happened, son?" The police Chief placed a comforting but firm hand on Skittery's shoulder. Skittery tried to shrug him off, a reflex learned on the streets, where a touch was almost never friendly, but he couldn't move around the handcuffs without some degree of pain. With a sigh he surrendered.
"It was Baron dat started it." He spoke in a voice dulled with grief. "He came aroun' Manhatten, lookin' fer a fight. Race tried ta stop 'im, he said he didn't want anudder brawl. But, but Baron jus' wouldn't hear it. He charged at Blink, an' when Race tried ta stop dat, he killed him.
"Racetrack?"
"Blink, sir." He shook painfully. "Den Baron an' Race fought, an before I could stop it, he were dead. And Race took off. Dat's all I knows, Sir." The Chief nodded, satisfied.
"He's lyin'!" Glancing over Skittery's hunched shoulder, he saw his men zipping Baron into the ominous black body bag. Crouched over her former friend, Lady stood trembling at Spot's side. The leader of Brooklyn, who'd been tipped off on the fight by one of his newsboys, wrapped his arms consolingly around the proud girl. She wouldn't be quieted. "Can't you see he's lyin'? He's a MANHATTENITE, fah Gawd's sake. He aint tellin' da truth!" She collapsed into angry sobs against her boyfriend's chest.
"Sir, I'm tellin' da truth! Race tried ta stop it. . ."
"This ends now." In two angry strides the Police Chief stood center of the room, his booming voice ending all activity. "Now, we all know that if a street rat wants to dissapear, he will. There's not much we can do to find Racetrack if he doesn't want to be found. But if he ever, EVER comes back to Brooklyn. . ." the man trailed off, though his ominious tone left few doubts in the minds of every newsie present. For Racetrack to return to Brooklyn would be suicide.
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HAHA!! Blink is avenged!! Oh, the plot ever thickens. Alrighty, it's that time again. You know what to do, all you loyal readers in fanfic world. . REEEEEEEEEEVIEWWWWW! (that's review, if you missed the shriek.)
**IMPORTANT** Oh yeah, and I know some of you will be wondering why Race was banished from Brooklyn, if he lives in Manhatten. Well, it's because the Red Hook, where Race killed Baron, is in Brooklyn, being Spot's favorite hang out and all, and so that's where the police will be looking for him. M'eh.
Ooh, the much-anticipated next chapter!!!
First must thank EVERYONE who reviewed my short, insignificant fuzzy stories: Shortie, butterfly, misprint, cards, randomness, Doll face, sparksdanewsie, Mondie, Keza, SeXyDaDdYmAgNeT69, Kathryn Mason-sykes, SeXyDaDdYmAgNeT69 AGAIN!!, Shortie AGAIN!!, Misprint AGAIN!!, Mondie AGAIN!! Doll Face AGAIN!!, and Rhapsody. You guys. . *sniffle* you rock so much! WAAAHAAAHAAA!!!!
*Morning Dew- Oh, I feel so guilty, I always update JUST before I get your reviews, and so I just miss you. Smack me if I ever neglect you in shout outs again!! Thank yo so reviewing!!! Yes, Blinks was great, but eh, that's the way it goes. I'm so gald you lik, keep r/r! p.s, I always meant to review, but I just wanted to say Sugar. . Rocked!!!
*Jo- oh, thankyou thankyou thankyou for reading!! Yes, I miss Blinks much, may he rest in peace. He'll be back in another fic, though, so don't worry! Be happy! Enjoy the update!! THANKYOU!!
*Mondie- in thanks for your loverly and MUCH appreciated run on review, I've decided to answer with a run on shout out: *ooh, I hope that window didn't hurt. . we welcome all muses, Jackie in the box. . .mm, them newsie names are hard to come by, and I do Love six strings *hugs charlie much*. . .yup, just like that, he sounds like a little prick already, don't he?. . .ahh, Mushie's six pack. . .I love Skittey. . . Oh he DID!! The nerve. . .heh heh sexy snarls. . . worry not for Skittery, he can handle himself. . .Mush on the other hand. . .OH thanks MUCHLY!! I dunno when you'll get around to reading this chapter, you've got a ways ta go, but thanks SOO much, you're my hero!! *skips of humming wind beneath my wings* lol. : D
*Shortie- I would just like to reiterate the fact that you ROCK beyond the telling of it, my idol and devil boss. You currantly share the *Best loyal reviewer* award, with Doll face, though she'd BETTER be updating, so you're edging her out!! HOO YAH!!! Ooh, Hope you feel better soon!! Ooh, *hides face in shame* could you send me your bio again? It kinda got deleted by my stupidity. Sorry!!! Pwease don't be mad?
*The Omniscient Bookseller- oh, oh, *staggers backwards, speechless with joy, until she trips over the computer stand* ow. Anyhoo, thatnk you SOOOOOOOOO much for the r/r, you are so talented, and I consider and honest opinion from you to be valuable beyond belief!!! Thank you again, this means a lot. I mean it. Keep reading!! *bows down humbely and runs off squeeling with more joy.*
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Racetrack sat immobilized with shock, stunned speechless by the fresh grief of the last few moments, choking back the tears that threatened to cloud his vision. Through the blood thundering in his ears, he heard Skittery, lightly sobbing along side of him. But none of that mattered anymore; not Skittery's pain, not Blink's body, lying cradled in his arms as it's warmth faded away. There was noone else in the world right now; only him. And Baron.
"Ruby." He barely heard the whisper escaping his own lips. "I thought I was doin' da right thing. Dah right thing fah us. Fah you." As he stared down in to the face of the boy who had been his best friend, Racetrack felt his eyes dry and his resolve stiffen. "I was wrong." Gently easing Blink onto the cobblestones, he stood on trembling legs, glancing around for Baron. The bastard was nowheres to be found.
At the same moment he forced himself to move forwards, speed and strength and hatred growing with each step he took, Skittery realized his plans.
"Race!" He called weakly, half running, half crawling towards his friend. "Race, stop. Stop and think." He grabbed at the newsie's arms, tears still streaming from his eyes. "Blink. . . he's gone, Race, he's dead, an' you can't bring 'im back. Just. . ."
"Get OFF!" Race pushed him away, never breaking his stride. He knew where he was headed now; the veils of greif had parted enough so that he could think with some semblance of reason. Baron was headed back to Brooklyn; to the Red Hook. He would sit and brag with his friends over a pint of whisky about how easily Blink had fallen, how quickly he, Baron the Great, had ended his life. 'Enjoy it while you can.' Racetrack thought murderously. 'You won't live much longer yourself.'
*.*.*.*
"Baron." Racetrack hardly needed to yell; it seemed Baron had been waiting, perched anxiously on the edge of his seat, for his enemy's arrival. He rose from his stool, motioning for his friends to remain seated as the Manhattenite stalked calmly through the entrance of the bar.
"Easy, fellas." He snickered, hand grasping eagerly for his pistol. "This'll be a breeze." Assuaged by the confidence of their leader, the Brooklyn newsies settled back down, ready to enjoy the show. Behind the counter, a haggard, half-dressed bar tender hissed for the busboy to run and get the bulls. Neither rival noticed. "How's Blinks, by da way, Race? 'e didn't look too good last time I saw 'im."
"Like you don't know."
Baron sniffed. "Ok, Racey, if dat's how you wanna play it. Tell 'im I says hi, when you sees 'im." Racetrack lunged, teeth bared and gun drawn. The stunned Brooklynite barely had time to raise up a defensive arm before they clashed. Though Baron, true to his confident nature, never really panicked until he heard the click of the hammer echoing in his ear.
"Tell 'im yourself." BOOM. Racetrack stood, parylized, as the pistol fell from his limp hand. He barely heard it hit the ground.
"Race!" The stunned newsie jumped a mile as the strong pare of arms wrapped around his shoulders. "Racetrack, snap out of it. . . Oh God." Skittery stopped in horror as he caught sight of Baron, lying still and bloody on the bar room floor. "What did you do?"
"I. . .I. . ." he couldn't bring himself to form the words.
"Nevah mind, Racey, you gotta go, da Bulls is comin'." He shoved his friend towards the doorway, where Mush, summoned by Skittery, was waiting with open arms to pull his friend away. "Get 'im outta heah, Mushy. Go!"
With a quick nod, Mush tugged the shocked boy out the door, eyes still fixed on the body.
"Jesus, Racetrack. What did you DO?" Skittery whispered as the bulls burst in.
"FREEZE! EVERYONE KEEP YOU HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM! NOBODY MOVES!"
*.*.*.*
"What happened, son?" The police Chief placed a comforting but firm hand on Skittery's shoulder. Skittery tried to shrug him off, a reflex learned on the streets, where a touch was almost never friendly, but he couldn't move around the handcuffs without some degree of pain. With a sigh he surrendered.
"It was Baron dat started it." He spoke in a voice dulled with grief. "He came aroun' Manhatten, lookin' fer a fight. Race tried ta stop 'im, he said he didn't want anudder brawl. But, but Baron jus' wouldn't hear it. He charged at Blink, an' when Race tried ta stop dat, he killed him.
"Racetrack?"
"Blink, sir." He shook painfully. "Den Baron an' Race fought, an before I could stop it, he were dead. And Race took off. Dat's all I knows, Sir." The Chief nodded, satisfied.
"He's lyin'!" Glancing over Skittery's hunched shoulder, he saw his men zipping Baron into the ominous black body bag. Crouched over her former friend, Lady stood trembling at Spot's side. The leader of Brooklyn, who'd been tipped off on the fight by one of his newsboys, wrapped his arms consolingly around the proud girl. She wouldn't be quieted. "Can't you see he's lyin'? He's a MANHATTENITE, fah Gawd's sake. He aint tellin' da truth!" She collapsed into angry sobs against her boyfriend's chest.
"Sir, I'm tellin' da truth! Race tried ta stop it. . ."
"This ends now." In two angry strides the Police Chief stood center of the room, his booming voice ending all activity. "Now, we all know that if a street rat wants to dissapear, he will. There's not much we can do to find Racetrack if he doesn't want to be found. But if he ever, EVER comes back to Brooklyn. . ." the man trailed off, though his ominious tone left few doubts in the minds of every newsie present. For Racetrack to return to Brooklyn would be suicide.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
HAHA!! Blink is avenged!! Oh, the plot ever thickens. Alrighty, it's that time again. You know what to do, all you loyal readers in fanfic world. . REEEEEEEEEEVIEWWWWW! (that's review, if you missed the shriek.)
**IMPORTANT** Oh yeah, and I know some of you will be wondering why Race was banished from Brooklyn, if he lives in Manhatten. Well, it's because the Red Hook, where Race killed Baron, is in Brooklyn, being Spot's favorite hang out and all, and so that's where the police will be looking for him. M'eh.