Disclaimer: I claim no rights to the characters or the places mentioned in the story. All that is Disney's is Disney's, and all that is mine is mine. This disclaimer holds true for all chapters posted, or to be posted of this story. I also take no claim to the song lyrics. Those belong to the producers, the artists, the composers, the record label, the writers, and the genius that is not my own. I am not making money off of it or any part of this story, so don't sue me.
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A/N: Oh gosh, this was a really hard chapter to write after all of the things that went on in the previous one. Now with Spot blind, Emily portrayed as the heartless woman-beast, Lice set up as the ultimate villain, Emily's dad basically out of the picture, but keeping strange hours, and Spitfire and Shadow set up for their doom, we can only read to see how this turns out. I can only just sit down and type out whatever comes to see how it turns out. As I am sitting here, I know where I kind of want to go to with this story, but I have no idea where it is going to go, so I am going to shut up now and find out.
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Warning: This chapter is rated PG - 13 for language, suspense, angst, and all of the times that I just wanted to curse out loud as I wrote it.
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Chapter 8: Echo in the Darkness
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"Before mine eyes in opposition sits grim Death."
-- John Milton
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The rain to fall, soaking the parched earth as the heaven's poured its torrents down in floods. No one went out on this frightful eve, no one that is except a select few. The select few were mainly those that had no where to stay, or the foes that were making their way towards the Brooklyn lodging house. Then there was the one soul who lay on his back, helpless against the forces swirling around him. His blood washed away in the heavy fallings of rain, not allowing his wounds to clot or scab. Misery and agony his only companions as he stayed there, paralyzed and having no motivation to move. Perhaps this would be the day he would die.
On the other side of the bride he would have found the Queens boys approaching the lodging house. The same lodging house that held so many potent memories inside its walls. Some of those memories were good, some of them bad, but all making up the majority of his life, his pathetic wasted life. Only one thing in the world was left that he cared about, and she had turned away, shunning him, turning her back to him when he needed her.
There was no use trying when you had nothing to try for, and that is all that Spot Conlon had. Nothing.
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"I'se - almost - got - it," Spitfire spoke slowly and deliberately, sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, attempting to untie the knots that bound Shadow's hands. The rain still dripped through the roof, and none of the Queens newsies had returned, but that didn't mean they wouldn't be back soon. It was hard to say who actually went to Brooklyn and who just went to cause trouble elsewhere.
"Do ya t'ink de's comin' back?" Shadow asked and Spitfire let out an exasperated sigh.
"I'se tryin' ta concentrate heah," she reminded as she worked.
"Oh," Shadow remembered and was silent until a few minutes later he felt the loosening of his binds around his wrists.
"Got it!" Spitfire exclaimed readily.
"Yeah!" Shadow worked his arms so that the ropes fell to the floor and he could bring his arms around front of the chair. This new freedom was exhilarating and he automatically started to work the ropes that bound his shoulders over his head. Then the ones that held his thighs down to the chair and the ones that kept his shins bound tightly, and he was free. It was amazing how much he could accomplish when he just had his hands.
"Hey," Spitfire clamored. "Whot 'bout me?" She knew that her fellow prisoner was now free.
"Whot 'bout yous?" Shadow asked.
"Yous gotta lemme go too ya know," she reminded and Shadow walked around in front of her.
"No I'se don't," he grinned evilly.
"Whot?" Spitfire shook her head in disbelief. "Shuah as hell ya do!" She recovered. "Get me outta heah!"
"Whot will ya gives me?" Shadow bargained.
"I'se goin' ta give yous two broken ahms ta go wit' youah two broken legs dat I'se goin' ta give ya foah bein' a spy!" She threatened, writhing madly in his chair, attempting to find a loose link. "Get me outta heah!"
"Ya know dat t'reats ain't no way ta treat da one dat might be getting' yous outta heah," he crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his mirth at the situation. "I'se say dat yous should beg," he prompted and Spitfire shot him a venomous glare.
"I untied yous damn hands, yous still be tied if it weren't foah me," she reminded. "I says dat it only right ta lemme go too," she reasoned.
"Nah, not good 'nuff," he shook his head.
"Whot do ya want me ta do, I ain't got nuttin' ta give ya," she stopped squirming. "An' if yous don' lemme go, an' de's kill me, it's goin' ta be on youah head," she tried a different approach. "Yous goin' ta boyn in hell foah dis!"
"I'se a'eady goin' ta boyn in hell," he reminded.
"Well, if yous don' lemme go, I'se goin' ta come back as a ghost an' haunt yous foahevah," she had heard of ghosts haunting people before, and figured if nothing else, it was a pretty good shot.
"I'se a'eady got a couple o' doe's," he shrugged.
"Damn it Shadow!" her gray eyes flashed. "Lemme out a heah right now oah else I'se goin' ta fix ya so yous can't walk!" She flew off the handle, and Shadow laughed. "Now ain't da time ta be laughin' de's could be comin' back any second now," she squirmed and suddenly the game that Shadow had been playing wasn't appealing anymore. It was true that those monsters could come back at any given time, and he had already decided to free her, so without another word he moved behind her, knelt, and began untying the ropes.
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//I think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain…//
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The rain did little to comfort Emily as she sat curled in a ball in the private quarters. She knew that Spot hadn't come back, and she knew that he probably wouldn't, and it was all her fault. Though she had thought she had acted in his best interest, she couldn't have been more wrong. The feeling of failure gnawed at her stomach like an unsatisfied beast.
You did the right thing, she tried to comfort herself. He needs someone better than you, someone who isn't worthless, cringing at the reminder of her shortcomings.
Standing, she stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen, it was nearing the time that her father would come home for lunch. He hadn't come back for breakfast, but there was no telling when he would show up. Steeling herself against her tears, she moved mechanically to prepare the food until a large rumpus too her attention. The door to the lodging house slammed open and a dozen or so very large strong looking boys tramped it, soiling her clean floors. Terrified, but knowing her duty, she stepped out behind the desk.
"Can I help you?" She asked diminutively, and the whole group seemed to freeze. They were all dripping wet, and seemed to have something in mind. A tall boy with soaked brown hair stepped forward, Emily quickly noted his two toned eyes.
"We'se heah ta finish some business wit' dese newsies," he told her frankly and Emily was immediately struck by the powerful sense of this boys depravity.
"You'll want to speak with Spot Conlon, but he isn't here now," she held her head high, trying to maintain a profession business like approach.
"Nah, Spot Conlon ain't da one dat I needs ta talk to," the boy shook his head, a malicious smile twisting his lips. "I don't think no ones goin' ta be talkin' ta Spot Conlon foah a long time," he turned and looked at the group around him and they were all smiling the same sick smile.
"I don't understand," Emily said warily. "Do you want a bunk for the night?" She asked.
"Some o' us will be stayin' some won't," the leader spoke. "But now we'se jus' need ta know wheah da bunkroom is," he said and Emily was worried about Spot. What did this boy mean by his comment about Spot not talking to anyone for a long time?
"Only boarders can go into the bunkroom, sir," she explained. "If you would just tell me which ones of you will be staying here, I can show you -" she was interrupted by the leader's fist slamming down on the desk.
"I ain't intahested in da rules," he growled. "If yous don' shows us wheah ta go, wes'll find da room ouah selves," he told her in an evil tone, then he straightened and resumed his pleasantly hostile tone. "Now, ah yous goin' ta show us, oah ah we'se goin' ta havta find it ouah selves?"
Inwardly, Emily was torn. Of course it was the rule that only boarders were allowed in the bunkroom, but that rule had been broken so many times it was practically useless to argue it. Spot hadn't boarded there in months and he had been up there regularly, not to mention some of the factory friends and such. Biting her lower lip, she waved off the terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach and moved out from behind the counter. Even if these boys were up to no good, there was no point in her arguing with them, they would do what they wanted anyway.
"It's this way," she said weakly and the terrible smile returned to the boy with strange eye's face.
"T'ank you miss," he said with sugar coated sweetness laced with malice.
When she had led them up the stairs, she pointed to the door and moved to go down the stairs. Whatever confrontation which was about to incur didn't involve her and she didn't want it to. The only thing she wanted to know was what had that strange boy meant about Spot?
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Just as the last of her bindings were freed, the noise of a door creaking open was heard and Spitfire and Shadow both froze. Both hoped that it was only the wind, but the wind didn't have footsteps or voices and they looked at each other in panic.
"Whot ah we'se goin' ta do?" Spitfire hissed.
"Come dis way!" Shadow grabbed her hand and treaded lightly towards the one opening in the large stacks of boxes.
Ducking behind a large crate, he looked around and saw a box with a large hole in the corner, if they were lucky, the box would be empty. Yanking on her arm as the footsteps got closer, he pointed to the box and Spitfire understood. The mess of crates, boxes, and random junk kept them fairly hidden from the main pathway, but the hole of the box was in plain view if someone chose to look in that direction.
Kneeling, Shadow motioned that Spitfire should go in front of him, his pulse was racing as the sounds of the boy's boots came closer. Just in the nick of time, Shadow was able to follow Spitfire and duck into the hole with minimal difficulty, and he pressed his back against the wall furthest from the crawl space.
Both of them were barely breathing as the boys passed, their conversation and foot steps audible as they headed on with their path. It was a startling silence when the companions reached the main circle to find both chairs empty with the rope binds lying discarded on the floor. Loud swearing was heard in the box as the two frantically searched for an idea.
"De's gone!" One of them exclaimed.
"No shit!" the other replied.
"How'd dey get past da guard?" The first asked.
"Ya t'ink I knows?" The second yelled.
"Damn Lice is goin' ta be mad," the other one exclaimed, then the conversation got too quiet to hear.
Neither of the hidden breathed as the boys still busy in conversation passed by again. The sound of the door opening and closing was their cue to exhale deeply. Deep breathing accompanied the dripping of rain and finally Spitfire spoke.
"Do ya t'ink dey know we'se in heah?" she asked.
"I dunno, but if de's got a guard by da door, we'se in trouble," Shadow lamented quietly.
"How da hell ah we'se goin' ta get outta heah?" She asked, blinking against the darkness.
"Don' woyah," Shadow comforted. "I'se comin' up wit' a plan," he informed.
"Oh, like dats goin' ta help," she grumbled.
"At least I'se doin' somet'ing, now shaddup," he ordered and Spitfire heard him shifting away from the wall beside her.
"Wheah ah yous goin'?" she hissed and he made a noise to silence her as he crawled out of the hole again. "Get back in heah!" She ordered, but he didn't hear her whispered dictation. "Shit," she breathed.
For all she knew he was going to get the others and tell them where she was, rating her out in return for his freedom. Pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes, she tried to think of a plan. She didn't know her way around Queens, she didn't know her way around this building, for all she knew she was in the back and the door was at the front. The door could be right next to her and she wouldn't have known.
Hearing a noise, she started and pressed her back firmly against the wall of the wooden crate and prayed to become invisible. A body blocked the dim light that filtered in through the hole. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself to fight. Someone knelt and stuck their head into the opening, and they would never know what had hit them. Lashing out, Spitfire launched her foot squarely into the face of the intruder.
They slumped to the floor, and Spitfire looked at them hesitantly before swearing vilely at recognition. She had knocked out Shadow, and now half of his body was hanging outside of the box. Panicking, she grabbed him under the arms and tried to yank him into the box, but he was too heavy to really move that far.
Going down to the hold, she tried to bend his legs so that they would fold into the box, but his legs were too long and his knees hit far above the edge. Biting her lip, she struggled again to pull him in, giving it her all in the cramped space where she couldn't even stand upright. Voices coming inside gave her a new fear. If they found her now, they would kill her on spot, or maybe rape her now, then kill her when Lice got back. Muttering an indistinguishable stream of curses, she gave Shadow one last pull and managed to get a good few inches inside.
Moving back down to the opening, she was now able to bend his legs into the crawl space just in time. Putting his feet to one side of the box, so they wouldn't slide out of the hole again, she froze when she heard Shadow moan rather loudly. The voices stopped talking and so did the footsteps. Shadow moaned again. Panicking, she did the only thing that she could think of, she kissed him, swallowing the noises that he would make with her own mouth.
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Lice waited until the girl was down the stairs and out of sight before opening the door into the room. An eerie hush filled the air invaded only by the creaking of the doors hinges. Thinking it strange that there was no noise in the besides the sounds of the door opening, he thought the room to be empty, but was shocked to see the majority of the borough huddled together in a painful silence. All eyes shot to the door as it opened, and Live found himself the center of attention, smiling cockily he scanned them all, seeing Fire still in bed but at least sitting up an conscious.
"Who ah yous?" One boy asked from the floor, but Lice kept eye contact with Fire, the boy had lost what little color her had and looked like he was going to be sick.
"I'se a messengah," Lice answered tactfully, stepping into the room, the rest of the boys following him. "An' I'se got a message foah da likes o' yous," he pointed around the room and slicked back his hair with his other.
"It's you," Fire croaked from his bed, and the group's head swiveled to see their friend trembling almost uncontrollably.
"Some o' yous might remembah dis?" Lice reached just inside the hem of his pants and began to draw out a long stick.
The room gaped as a glint of gold at it's tip shined in the lamp light, their attention had left Fire who was trying his best to remain as calm as possible. He found a sick enjoyment of the horror and shock the crossed all of the pathetic newsies' faces at the sight of their emblem of leadership. Everyone knew that whoever possessed the cane was the leader, even if it was only for a few moments, but they cane was their mark of power. Outsider's face blanched when he saw this.
"Who da hell ah yous?" Outsider commanded. "Whot ah yous doin' heah, wheah's Spot, an' wheah did yous get dat?" He pointed at the cane and then surveyed the army of dripping Goliath's behind the possessor of the cane.
"Lice," he started. "Takin' ovah," he paused, savoring the moment. "Dead," he enjoyed the way that delicious word slid over his tongue. "An' off his coahpse," he set the end of the cane on the floor and leaned on it, waiting for all of the information he had provided to sink into their minds. At first, all he saw was confusion, then the realization of the truth began to dawn on them and glances of disbelief were exchanged.
"Yous killed Spot Conlon?" Lice turned his two toned eyes to a girl with long dark hair.
"Wit' my own hands," he sneered and a murmur ran over the group.
"Yous can't jus' come in heah an' take ovah like dis!" Protested a tall boy as he stood to his feet. "We'se Brooklyn, and we ain't goin' ta jus' let ya come in an do dis!" Agreement swept over the crowd and Lice's jaw remained set.
"Now, mosta da time, I'se agree wit'choo," he acknowledged with a nod, continuing to lean on the cane. "But yous ain't got da man powah ta fight us, an' I'se got somet'ing back home dat might jus' wanna keep yous from tryin' anyt'ing," Lice smiled cruel and the tall boy that challenged him seemed to shrink a little.
"Dat's Lice!" Fire exclaimed as if suddenly understanding. "He's da leadah from Queens!" he proclaimed and the complete understanding of magnitude of this event struck the group. This was a territory takeover.
"Whot do yous got dat would keeps us from tryin' anyt'ing?" the tall challenger asked.
"Yous might know her," Lice waited before he dropped the name, enjoying the suspense he created. "I t'ink da bitch's name is Spitfiah," he laughed out loud as the tall boy who challenged him started over to him in rage. Two other boys jumped up and restrained him.
"Whot ah yous doin' wit' her? Is she a'ight?" the restrained boy struggled.
"Yeah, she's a'ight, an' she will stay a'ight unless yous do anyt'ing," Lice threatened, straightening, his face hardening. "Who wos da new leadah afore I gots heah?" He asked and Outsider stood, approaching as he was beckoned.
"Yous can't jus' do dis, Lice. Do yous know whot kinda trouble yous goin' ta be in when Manhattan finds out?" Outsider asked, completely torn over the situation.
"Nuttin'," Lice guessed. "An' you knows why dey ain't goin' ta do nuttin'?" he asked and Outsider shook his head. "Cause if dey do anyt'ing, Spitfiah is goin' ta die," he informed. "An' so ah yous," with a lightning quick motion, Lice had lifted the cane and smashed it on the back of Outsider's head, right across the nape. Knocking him out on the first blow.
A cry rose and a small surge of girls and boys rushed at the Queen's group for the terrible assault that had been performed in front of them so blatantly. The mammoth Queen's boys moved to form a shield around their leader fending off the group of frenzied newsies easily. A startling crash of thunder is what drew their attention away from the fighting and gave Lice the window he needed.
"A'ight ya rats," he cried out. "You all try anyt'ing like dat again and dis heah bastahd an' da bitch back in Queens will die," he threatened and the Brooklyn borough knew better than to argue.
Soon the arrangements were made as to which boys would remain in Brooklyn and which would return to Queens with Lice and their new captive. It was a strange time, the transition of power of one force to the other. Brooklyn couldn't protest, and Queens knew it, they wouldn't risk the lives of those two simply for the power. Sure they might lose their selling spots, but they would be able to sell just as easily in other places. In their fragile state of mind, it would be difficult for them to really form any real form of protest besides violence. Even then they weren't ready to face off with the Queens powerhouse.
"Remembah," Lice reminded just before he left. "I heah any woyd 'bout yous even t'inkin' 'bout stahtin' somet'ing, youah lil' friends will be gone," with that, he turned and left, seven of the twelve boys leaving with him. More afraid than ever, the lost confused borough huddled together again in the silence of the pouring rain. It wasn't until then that they saw that Fire was silently weeping on his bed, the tears making quiet steams down his face. He wasn't the only one mapping new water courses, Ghost joined him, along with Flower and Spice, then another and another, until there was nary a dry eye in the room.
The boys from Queens only gloated.
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//I think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain…//
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It was strangely quiet in the lodging house, especially for all of the newsies being back, but there hardly any noise that radiated into the kitchen as Emily cooked. Still no word of her father's arrival, but she was always on edge, he could come home at any time. Lately the demands had been more unpredictable and his hours out of the lodging house longer. Rarely did he come back, and it was now more odd for him to stay the night here than not.
The business that he tended to was still secret to Emily, but when he came back home he would always have some sort of paper work, some sort of files, something to sort out. Something that Emily couldn't know about, something that she couldn't witness, something she couldn't be in the room with, alone or not. This bothered her when she dwelt upon it, it was easier just to ignore it.
Something that wasn't so easy to ignore was the way that she and Spot had parted just a few hours earlier. Her cheeks burned at the memory of the kiss, the heat that had coursed through her body returned even at the merest hint of a memory. Pressing the backs of her cold fingers against her flushed face, she closed her eyes. When she pressed her lids together, she could see it all flooding back again.
She saw what had happened when she had told him that she hated him, nothing could be farther from the truth. What she felt was… no it wasn't any good to admit it to her self now. Was it right to want someone this much? She couldn't remember a time where she had felt so torn. Everything was so confused. What she had done was best for both of them, wasn't it?
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, she went back out into the entryway. A parade of still wet boys came down the stairs, the boy with two colored eyes in the lead. Moving behind the desk, she prepared to take the board of some of the boys.
"Can I help you?" She asked, not seeing Outsider as they hid his limp body among their masses.
"Five o' da boys will be stayin' heah, how much is it ta stay in dis heah dump?" The leader asked.
"It's a nickel a night to board, meals aren't provided," Emily responded mechanically.
"Nickel a night foah five boys," The leader squinted his unusual eyes in thought. "So, how much's dat?"
"Twenty five cents, but the boys need to pay their own board. Lodging house rules," Emily clarified.
"Trust me miss," The boy said, fishing in his pocket. "Yous don' wanna ask dem foah dere boahd tanight," he didn't elaborate, but Emily sensed it would be wise to heed his words and silently took the money that he had slammed onto the counter. As he turned to go, Emily felt a sudden wave of courage.
"Wait," she said and the leader froze and turned to face her, when he met her eyes, she almost lost all of her desire to start this conversation. "What you said about Spot earlier…" she drifted and chewed on her bottom lip. "What did you mean by that?" She asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
For a moment there was silence, the front door open, letting in the sounds of the rain pounding the ground. Then a small chuckle began to come from their strange-eyed leader. The chuckle spread around the room, and then the chuckle became a laugh and the laugh a roar. Emily never got her answer because they left as they laughed, but the malicious undertone in their merriment was answer enough to her questions. Returning to the kitchen, she tried to press all other thoughts of it out of her mind.
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The rain continued to pour to the earth in unrelenting sheets, keeping all of those that would be out inside. The gutters were filled, the rain creating a strange music as it fell on different surfaces. Some drops pelted the ground, the roofs, the street lamps, and the streets themselves, the cracked earth soaking up the rain like a sponge. Water was everywhere, cleansing and renewing the dirty streets and byways. Unfortunately, it couldn't cleanse what was inside the hearts of the wicked as they tread down the sodden streets with their captive in tow.
No longer unconscious, but still hazed, Outsider followed dumbly as he was nearly dragged by two brutes. The vision of the streets was limited because of the sheets of water falling from the skies, soaking the parched ground, as they slogged through the mud and puddles on the dirt roads. They kept going, and Outsider was completely unaware of where they were taking them, but he was surprised when their destination seemed to be a large warehouse. Who was he with again? It didn't matter now because everything was getting darker again, then it was black.
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Inside of the Queens fortress, all of the boys stood dripping and the guard from outside the door moved inside and was talking with Lice. Before he could get very far with his conversation, the boy he was talking to turned and looked directly at Outsider. The motionless boy was not surprising.
"Put dat boy wit' da oders," he ordered and the boy he had been previously engaged in conversation in looked scared suddenly.
"Suah," he squeaked, an unusual sound from such a strapping young man. "Suah, dere's somet'ing dat yous need ta know," he tried to attract the two-toned boy's attention.
"Whot do you want Aces?" Lice, not bothering to turn and the group was silent.
"Da two kids dat yous got, dey uh…" he hesitated and Lice turned slowly.
"Dey whot, Aces?" The leader ground out through clenched teeth.
"Dey… uh… got away," Aces offered tentatively, and Lice stayed frozen. No one moved, no one breathed, while it might not have been the guard's fault that they had escaped, he was the messenger.
"I see," The boy with unusual eyes spoke softly, appearing to turn back around to the others and Aces relaxed slightly.
When he was half way turned, the leader whirled back around and delivered a resounding punch to the boy, the sickening crunch of bone meeting bone echoing in the large building. Madder than a hornet, Lice spun back around and surveyed his group angrily, both of his eyes flashing black fire. Storming towards the large open area, he listened attentively and heard his comrades following him, and then something different that he didn't expect. It sounded almost as though someone was moaning. Stopping in mid stride, he listened again and again the sound came from somewhere in the building, he waited but it was cut off quickly this time.
Turning around he spoke, "Did dat kid make any noise?" he pointed to the captive and all of the boys shook their heads rapidly. "Dere still heah," he murmured to himself in disbelief. "Aces!" he yelled and the sounds of pounding footsteps came from where they had just come. "Did yous evah leave youah post?" Lice asked, the wheels turning in his brain.
"No," Aces shook his head and looked intently at his leader.
"Did yous evah heah anyt'ing odd?" Lice fired.
"No," Aces shook his head again.
"Did yous evah once heah da door open from da inside?"
"No."
"Did anyone's go inta dis heah place when yous weah on guard?"
"Yes."
"Whose?"
"Scratch an' Mutt."
"Wheah ah dey?"
"I dunno, de's come ta tell me dat da two weah gone an' den went off ta look foah dem."
"Knife," Lice beckoned after the rapid fire questioning. "Take da rest o' da boys an' find Scratch an' Mutt," he ordered and the large boy motioned to the group around him and everyone besides those holding Outsider followed. "You twos," Lice pointed. "Go tie him an' make shuah dat he can't get away," Lice instructed. Then turning back to Aces, he continued. "Did yous evah stop ta t'ink dat de's could still be in heah?" Lice asked and Aces' eyes widened.
"Yous mean, dat de's hidin' in heah some wheah's? Aces looked shocked.
"Dats right," Lice looked around at the large boxes around him. "Yous guard da only entrance dat lets out any moah, an' if yous is tellin' da truth, dere ain't no way doe's two coulda gotten out, right?" Lice asked, testing him.
"Right," Aces gulped.
"So whot does dat mean?" Lice prompted.
"Dat de's still in heah?" Aces guessed hesitantly.
"Right," Lice nodded. "An' if de's still in heah, we'se goin' ta find dem, right?" Lice's voice was as it always was, smooth and collected, but underlined with murder.
"Right," Aces gulped and Lice patted him on the back.
"Good," he smiled with hostility. "Now get to ya post, an' if I'se find out dat yous lyin' I'se goin' ta fix ya so yous can't walk," he threatened and Aces hurried to his post.
Turning in a slow circle, Lice took in his surrounding. The moaning had come from somewhere in the area and he was going to find it, the poor fools, they didn't know who they were dealing with. A self-pleased smile played on his lips as he fiddled with the cane that he held in his hands. It was good to be him.
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As she pressed her full lips to his own, she knew it was a mistake. Lights flashed behind her eyes at the contact and a strange tingling shot over her entire body. The idea of falling for such a traitor had been erased from her mind the moment she had heard that he was a spy, erased from her mind, but not from her heart.
Attraction to Shadow had been strong in the first few days she had known him, then the attraction had lead to interest, but interest had never developed because of Ghost. At the thought of her current beloved, she cringed. He was terribly over possessive and clingy. Two things that she definitely didn't want in a relationship.
The consciousness of her partner was unsure, but she didn't want him to make any more noise so she kept kissing him. It wasn't until he started to return the kiss that she began to be aware that he was fully awake and responsive. Even in this moment, she didn't draw back, and he began to sit up slowly, keeping his mouth in full contact with hers. Sitting up completely now, he cupped her face in his hands and returned the passionate kiss.
Finally, he pulled back when he heard someone walking around. Placing a finger across her soft mouth, he motioned her to be silent. Thought the footsteps were slow, they were steady and they were definitely moving with a purpose. Moving slightly, he shifted so that he was in the darkest corner of the box and reached for Spitfire to join him. Curling as small as they possibly could become, they hid in the fairly large crate.
Both were breathing fairly heavily from the involved embrace, but they tried their hardest to regulate it. The pounding of their hearts was nearly audible, as they slammed against their rib cages, unable to control the adrenaline that coursed through the veins like molten lava. Ideas flew their head and flew out just as quickly, discarded as terrible. The feet came dangerously close, only to walk by, and Shadow let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.
The musty darkness tickled at their noses and it took all of their will power not to cough or sneeze. The footsteps continued to go around the area, not leaving. Every muscle was tensed inside of that box as the feet of the solitary intruder paused in front of their hole. A third tap on the ground was curious, but they didn't investigate as the sound of two other pairs of feet joined the first.
"We'se tied him up," A low voice came.
"Yeah, da ol' Brooklyn leadah don' know whot hit him," The second chuckled.
"Very good," Shadow recognized Lice's voice. "Now get youah asses out dere an' look foah Scratch an' Mutt," he yelled and the two scurried off. When the hurried rumbling of their steps was only a memory, Lice shifted.
Both Shadow and Spitfire's hearts skipped a beat when they heard him kneel. It was true that the darkness nearly hid them, but if he stuck his head in and looked inside the two were as good as found. The crate where they hid was probably no higher than four feet, no longer than five, and no wider than six, but it served its purpose as a hiding place. The crawl hole was nearly two feet wide and three feet high, cutting into their area to conceal themselves. Their only hope was that he wouldn't look in.
Their hope was dashed when they saw the top of his mousy brown head poke into the hole. Both of them froze as he eased his head into the darkened area. Lice began to make out two very distinct shapes very quickly in the semi-darkness, and Spitfire reacted. Lashing out with her legs in a similar fashion as she had again Shadow, but more violently, she thrust her foot into his face several times before watching in horror as he slumped to the ground.
"Whot da hell did yous jus' do?" Shadow hissed and Spitfire looked at him then the form on the ground in front of them.
"I - I'se not shuah," she looked horrified, and Shadow was the first one to react.
"Well dere ain't nuttin' we'se can do 'bout it," he moved towards the fallen Queens leader. "Let's get 'im in heah," he began to yank on Lice's arms, drawing him into the box.
"Dere ain't enough room ta get 'im in heah," Spitfire protested in a loud whisper.
"We'se goin' ta go out and push da rest in heah," Shadow explained. "Now help me pull!"
With a low groan, Spitfire complied, knowing that this was the only way they were going to get out of here. Together they, slid the majority of the tall leader's upper body inside of the box, but something was keeping them from turning him the rest of the way in. Moving without much ease, Spitfire pulled at his hand which was lodging down by the entrance.
"He's got Spot's cane!" She hissed, pulling it in and trying to yank it out of his hands, but he still had a firm grip on it.
"Leave it," Shadow commanded and yanked a little harder on Lice.
"Whot? Ah yous crazy?" She spoke a little too loudly and Shadow made a motion to be quiet. "Who evahs gots da cane gots da powah, yous can' just leave dis heah wit' him!" She protested.
"Yeah we'se can!" Shadow growled grabbing her hand. "Get outta heah an' push da rest o' him in heah," he ordered and she gave one last yank on the cane before heading out. At this point, her neck was more important than the golden tipped cane.
She barely had enough room to make it out of the crawlspace with Lice's body blocking a good portion of the space. When she was out, she worked fast, pushing and bending the infamous leader into the place where they had been hiding. With any luck, they might get out of her alive. Antsy, she waited for her partner to climb out of the box to join her.
"Hurry up," she hissed as he started to climb out. Pausing he looked up at her and shook his head as he finished crawling out. "We'se gotta go get Spot, de's got 'im tied up back dere," She grabbed his hand and pulled before he had any idea what happened. They rushed to the large open area where they had been before not to see Spot but someone very different.
"Outsidah?" Shadow said rather loudly, in complete disbelief. "He looks like he's been knocked out an' we'se can't cahy him no wheah," Shadow reasoned, pulled on Spitfire's hand. "Let's go," he insisted and she froze.
"No, we'se can't just leave him heah," she protested, trying to go to him.
"If we'se stay heah any longah we'se goin' ta be tied up dere wit' him," Shadow reminded. "De's pro'ly keepin' him foah black mail," he yanked on her arm again. "Come on!"
Torn, Spitfire followed, his leading, casting back several forlorn glances back to her fellow newsie, any contact with Brooklyn was a welcome change to the past day or so. Before she had any time to really contemplate it, she was at the door and Shadow had stopped.
"De's goin' ta have a guard heah," Shadow informed. "We'se goin' ta havta deal wit' him afore we'se can do anyt'ing else," he looked at her warily and she nodded.
"I knows how ta fight," she answered with much self-assurance.
"Good, den let's go," he opened the door and sure enough, it hit someone's back. Again, Shadow slammed open the door, smashing it against the wall of someone's back. The third time he did this, the ogre moved out of the way so he simply thrust open the door and was face to face with the large boy.
A firm right hook caught Shadow across the jaw and Spitfire went for the place that counts. The boy might have had a strong punch, but he wasn't good at blocking, which was good for Spitfire as her foot came in firm contact with his groin. All three of them were soaking the rain that fell from the sky. A few strong kicks and blows from Spitfire, and Shadow was back into the game, battering the pained guard. For being tied up and not fed for the past twenty-four hours, Spitfire was surprisingly active. It was the anger that she felt for the violations she had endured that kept her going, and wanting revenge, no matter what the cost.
When the boy was immobilized to the point that he couldn't run after them, the duo split into the curtains of rain. On and on they ran towards Brooklyn, cutting the long way around through the most unused streets and alleyways, not wanting to run into any of Lice's goons. Their legs cramped, their lungs burned, and if it hadn't been raining, sweat would have been dripping off of their bodies. It couldn't have been even mid afternoon but it was nearly as dark as night with the thick angry black clouds. When they had run for nearly ten minutes, Spitfire slowed down and leaned against a wall, wiping the water off her face only to have it covered again almost instantly.
"We'se can't go back ta Brooklyn," she gasped for air and Shadow looked at her curiously.
"Why not?" he asked, irritated that she had stopped.
"If Lice's taken ovah da place, he's boys ah goin' ta be crawlin' all ovah dat place," she reminded, gulping down large lung-full breaths. "We'se gotta go some wheah else," she informed.
"Well wheah da hell ah we'se goin' ta go," Shadow used the stop as a chance to catch his own breath.
"Manhattan," she said. "We'se gotta go ta Manhattan."
. : ^_^ : .
//Think it's going to rain, rain down,
Think it's going to rain, rain down,
Think it's going to rain, rain down,
I think it's going to rain…//
. : ^_^ : .
Spot lay with his back down on the bridge, unable to move, not wanting to move, everything hurt. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to blink, and it hurt to think. The only think that didn't hurt was probably his hands. They should hurt, he should have fought until every single one of his knuckles were bleeding and broken, but hadn't raised a finger. It didn't matter though now, he didn't have anything to fight for then and he didn't have anything to fight for now.
At one point he had tilted his head back and tried to drown himself in the torrents. All he had gotten for his efforts was a bought of painful coughing that had only increased his pain. The oppressive darkness that surrounded him was frightening and tears stung the backs of his blind eyes. How had it all happened so quickly? Had it been quickly? Spot had lost all track of time and he couldn't see to judge by the lights through the clouds. Was there even any light coming through the clouds? He couldn't tell. Of course he couldn't tell, he was blind.
When he closed his eyes he could see, well he thought he could see. He could picture everything that had ever happened in his life to have it all come to this point in time. It was almost like watching a picture show as his whole life flashed across his closed eyes. Somehow it seemed to all build to this point, why couldn't he have seen it coming?
For even the most devoted comrade can become your enemy whenever he chooses, The words reminded him, how many of his supposed friends had turned their backs on him? Every single word of that prophecy was so clear in his mind now, it all made so much sense. Why hadn't he stayed with Emily until she had told him what exactly was wrong? If he had would he be lying here right now, a broken man?
Now she definitely wouldn't want him. Blind, completely worthless, a complete failure, that is all he was. How could he ever make himself worth anything now? Could he make himself the great name he had been? No, he already knew that answer, he was worthless, and that was all he ever would be.
As he lay there on his back, the sound of rain the only distraction from his pain the words from his dream came to him again and again. Don't be afraid to look behind you, he had looked behind himself and he had seen the infliction of his pain. The last thing he had seen was the glint of gold that he now figured was his cane since he hadn't been able to feel it out beside himself. Your pride is your weakness, he remembered, how many times had he heard that. How many times had he been beaten down because of his pride, how many times had his pride kept him from admitting things to those he cared for? Damn me pride, he thought bitterly.
You're a marked man Patrick, take care that you leave nothing unchecked, nothing unturned, you are the holder of your fate, and he remembered the terrible words with a set jaw. The holder of his fate in deed, he had certainly botched this one. How many ends had he left unturned, how many leads had he left unchecked? He was an idiot and he knew it. Now he was left alone on the Brooklyn Bridge,. It was disgusting, and Spot was filled with self-loathing.
As he lay there, Spot was alone, more alone than he had ever been in the memory of his life.
He was left alone, alone with the voice that taunted him in his pain.
The voice that was now nothing more than an echo in the darkness.
. : ^_^ : .
A/N: This chapter didn't make me cry like the last two, I don't know, it just wasn't as sad for me for some reason. Who knows, maybe I am just weird. The pain wasn't as intense, but it was still there. I can't help but feel terrible for what I am doing to my poor Spotty, though…. . : * Tears * : . Oh well, moving along. Congratulations to me, the read count is up to . : * Ticks off each person of her fingers * : . five whole people! . : * Dances * : . I am amazed that five people would actually read and review this far into the story! Now to thank those wonderful people:
Ireland O'Reily: Oops, I made you cry? . : * Secretly rejoices * : . I was numb for about two days after I wrote the last chapter. It kind of incensed me for a little while. I really need to remind myself that these stories are fiction and I have complete control over them… even if I really don't…. Yes miracles happen, but I am not quite sure if I want to have Spot get his sight back. It is all a big unknown right about now, but who knows? The muses are sure to have some secrets up their sleeves. ^_^
Annie: Yeah, Lice is pretty easy to hate isn't he? There are always characters that you have to hate though, without them you will go through the story and find people to pick apart and hate, and that could be the character that I really want you to like. I have to protect my characters! And that involves creating the turmoil, and also creating the character that makes the turmoil, in this case it just happens to be Lice. You have to admit though, he makes a pretty wicked sweet bad guy. ^_^ Awe, I'm sorry you had a bad day at school and then came home to such a terrible update! I feel bad now, I didn't mean to make you cry! Sorry I made such a big old distraction for you! . : * Feels really bad and guilty * : . Well as you can see, Emily didn't find him, but that is all part of the idea, and I hope that this was well-done sadness and not badness. ^_^
Kaylee: It is comforting to know that you still love me even though I made such a terribly sad chapter! Thanks for the review. ^_^
Fearless: Ha, ha, thanks for the review and for loving my story. How dare you not review it! Go back and review all of my other chapters, now! Ha, ha, no I am just joking. I am thankful that you at least reviewed once, but you need to review every other chapter I post to make up for the past ones you haven't! -_^ Awe, Emily isn't being too bad, she is just trying to do what she thinks is right. Blame her dad for making her think she is worthless! ^_^ People you are supposed to hate: Emily's dad, and Lice. People you are supposed to like: Spot and Emily ^_^ Thanks for the review.
Peppermint: You didn't know newsies existed before this fiction. . : * Eyes pop out of head * : . Please tell me that you didn't know newsies' fan fiction existed before this fan fiction! Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, tell me that you have seen that movie at least once! Argh! You poor deprived girl! Well if you haven't seen it, just let me tell you, this is nothing like the actual movie and the movie isn't based around Spot, but it is still definitely worth watching! A lot! Take care. ^_^
All right, well those are the few and the loved. Take cares and remember to review!