AN: I'm high on coffee, so please don't be surprised if this chapter follows that. Just read!

Oh, and there will be conversations where Dutchy is speaking in German with someone else. This will be denoted by italics.

                                                                                                                                               

Dutchy

            At least the horse was behaving. That would've been the last straw on my already frayed nerves, to have the horse not follow commands. Kick means go, pull back to stop. Steer with the reins. Not that hard, really.

            None of the German soldiers paid me any heed other than to salute. I pretended like I actually knew where I was going, but I heard something that strayed me from my path.

            "BLINK!!!"

            I knew that voice anywhere. Mush was either in trouble, or Blink was. I jerked the horse to the right and kicked it as hard as I could. It took off so fast that I almost lost my grip and fell off.

            I held on tight as we flew down the alley, and I got to the other side just in time to see an officer slam his fist into Mush's stomach. Blink was lying nearby on the ground, holding his head and groaning. The officers were laughing and jeering about it, slapping each other on the back after each good punch.

            One of them noticed me and saluted, and then spoke to me in German and said something to the effect of 'wanna join in'?

            I could feel the rage pulsing through my veins as another soldier pushed Mush to the ground and kicked him in the ribs, while two others pulled Blink to his feet for more abuse. I couldn't blow my cover, but I had to do something.

            I shouted at them in German, telling them that we had a situation downtown and that they were to leave immediately. I told them that I would take care of the two street rats, and they moaned about me having ruined their fun, but they mounted their horses and left, And Blink fell to the ground, unsupported. As soon as they turned the corner I sprang off my horse and ran to Blink.

            "Are you okay?" I asked, and he opened his eyes, briefly seeing the uniform and panicking. I grabbed his arms and held him down. "It's just me! You're safe! Calm down!"

            "D-Dutchy?"

            "Yeah. It's me. You're okay."

            "………Mush?"

            I stood up and walked to Mush, who tried to crawl away at the sight of the uniform.

            "Mush, it's me…Dutchy."

            He looked up and his expression changed to relief as he collapsed onto the ground. He was breathing in short gasps- anything more than that was probably agony after all those kicks and punches to his ribs.

            "God, Mush…how bad are you hurt?"

            "I…don't know."

            Blink shakily pushed himself to his feet and stumbled, and I grabbed onto him and held him up as he wavered.

            I have to get them back to the lodging house…but what about Itey?

            If I helped them go back, then I would most likely be sentencing Itey to death in the process. He needed a doctor, as soon as possible. But these two weren't going anywhere by themselves, without help. Come to think of it, these two probably needed that doctor too.

            I was suddenly struck from behind, and I yelped in pain as I was thrown to the ground. I rolled over on my back only to see Bumlets holding up a large piece of wood, ready to swing it down on my head again, with Race standing not far behind him.

            "STOP!"

            Blink tackled Bumlets with surprising strength, slamming him into the ground and knocking the weapon out of his grip in doing so.

            "What's wrong with you, Blink?!" Bumlets demanded, not struggling for fear that Blink would go completely postal on him.

            "That's Dutchy you just clobbered, you idiot!"

            Bumlets looked over at me as I sat up and rubbed the back of my head, stars exploding in front of my eyes. That was going to be a bruise. Racetrack ran to my side and helped me up, wide eyed but curious.

            "Dutchy? What the hell are you doing?" he asked, and I groaned.

            "Yeah, nice to see you too, Bumlets…" I muttered, and Bumlets pushed Blink off of him and walked to me.

            "Are you okay, man?"

            "It's Blink and Mush who need help. Can you get them back to the lodging house for me?"

            "Where are you going?"

            I took a deep, shaky breath. "Itey is hurt. Bad. If I don't find a doctor, he's gonna die. I'll bring the doctor back to the lodging house. Now go!"

            Bumlets and Race set to work helping Mush and Blink, and I stepped back onto my horse, kicking it with a vengeance. These people had gone too far. Mush and Blink were two of the sweetest, most harmless people in the world, besides Blink's volatile temper.

            Nobody messed with them without messing with the whole lodging house.

            The horses hooves smacked the ground at an alarming rate, and I leaned forward, tempted to close my eyes. The horse darted over bodies, danced around other horses without a care, and never slowed down once.

            Specs would've been terrified.

            I, however, was in heaven.

            An officer suddenly yelled at me in German to stop, and I pulled the horse to a skittering halt as the German approached. Three of them.

            "Where are you going?"  He asked me, suspicion shining through in his eyes.

            "An officer has been injured. I'm looking for a doctor to take to him." I explained. It was a half-truth, anyway. He stared me down, but I didn't break eye contact. That would've been the biggest mistake of my life.

            "We have doctors at the base. Take him there."

            "Moving him could kill him, sir."

            He rolled his eyes, and then he motioned to the two officers behind him. He looked at me and explained, "Our American friend and the lieutenant here will take you to the nearest doctor's office. After the American is done with escorting you, I want him shot. I'll leave that up to the lieutenant."

            American? I took a closer look at the officer that he had gestured to, but his hat cast a shadow over his face.

            "Yes, sir."

            I kicked my horse on, and the lieutenant followed, holding a rope connected to the American's horse. He wasn't letting that guy go anywhere.

            "Lieutenant?"

            "Yes, sir?"

            "Let me speak with the American trash."

            "You can speak English, sir?"

            "Yes. Why, can't you?"

            The lieutenant looked embarrassed. "No, sir."

            Yes! Finally, a stroke of luck! I could talk freely to this American without him being able to know what I was saying! I thanked God as the American's 'leash' was handed off to me and the lieutenant dropped back.

            The American and I looked at each other at the same time, and we both yelped in surprise.

            "Dutchy??!!"

            "Skittery??!!"

            I resisted the urge to hug him, because the lieutenant was watching. I turned the tone of my voice down, changing to a brisk, mean tone.

            "Are you alright? What did they do to you?"

            He swallowed hard, and I noticed fresh bruises all over one side of his face. Someone had been mad enough to hit him quite a few times.

            "They have Spot. They're gonna kill him if I don't follow orders." He said.

            "Yeah, well, we have orders to kill you when our little errand is over."

            "That don't surprise me. Where are we going, anyway?"

            "You're supposed to be taking us to the nearest doctor."

            "Oh…that'd be that way, Dutchy." He said, pointing down a connecting road.

            "I know. They think I'm a German, remember? I had to wait for you to tell me."

            We turned the way he had gestured and the lieutenant followed without question.

            "Why do we need a doctor?" Skittery asked.

            "Itey, Mush, and Blink are hurt real bad. Itey's gonna die without a doctor."

            "Shit."

            "Yeah. My words exactly. I think you need to drop back now. He might get suspicious."

            "Alright."

            "Oh, and Skittery?"

            "What?"

            "I'm sorry."

            "For what?"

            I slapped him hard right across the face, flinging him forward in the saddle.

            "Jesus Christ, Dutchy!!!"

            I handed the rope off to the lieutenant. "American scum." I said in German, putting as much annoyance into my voice as possible. The lieutenant gave me a smile of approval, although inside, I was crying.

Spot

            I was bored. My hands were tingling, and I adjusted them in the restraints and sighed heavily. A poker game had started in the room that I was in, and I watched as one of the officers cheated the others out of their money.

            An officer came in, pushing someone ahead of him and yelling to the other officers. As the other prisoner was tied up next to me, I got a good look at his face.

            "Snitch?!"

            Snitch smirked. "Heya, Spot."

            "What did you do?"

            His smile broadened even further. "I got an in. And my hands aren't actually tied."

            I shot a look at the officer who had brought him, who was now sitting down at the poker table. He caught sight of me looking at him, and I guess I looked pretty stunned, cause he winked at me as if to say, 'you're in good hands now'. "He's…"

"His name is Gunter. He's on our side." Snitch explained, and then looked around the room. "Where's Skittery?"

            Oh, God. I didn't want to have to be the one to tell him this. I wasn't good at saying things like this.

            "Snitch…"

            Snitch's eyes widened as he looked at me. He knew what I was about to tell him.

            "One of the officers, he…he told me that Skittery is dead. I…I'm sorry."

            Snitch couldn't seem to breath. He began trembling, and he looked up at me with a look that could've killed, it was so emotion-wracked.

            "You….you're lying. He's not dead. He's not dead." Snitch hissed, confusion straining his features. I didn't say anything; I didn't know what to say.

            "Oh my God…you're not lying…he's dead." Snitch stuttered, the realization hitting him like a runaway carriage. "Skitts…it's my fault…" he said, and then he couldn't hold back. He began sobbing, tears dropping down his face as if he were standing outside in the rain. The Germans looked up from their game, and Gunter suddenly got this look of fury on his face and threw back his chair. He walked to us, grabbing us both by the collars of our shirts and shoving us out of the room.

            He led us down a long hallway to another room, and then he slammed the door and locked it.

            Then, his demeanor changed completely. His dark eyes got a whole lot softer, and he threw an arm around Snitch's shoulder, holding him as he cried and sobbed uncontrollably.

            "Snitch, what's wrong?" he asked, but Snitch couldn't answer. He was shaking like a leaf. He yanked away from Gunter and sank to his knees on the floor, rocking gently as he yanked his hands out of the ties and cried into his hands.

            "It's Skittery. They…from what I know, they shot him." I explained.

            Gunter's expression turned to fury. He looked from me, to Snitch, and then back to me, and then he spun me around and untied my wrists.

            "I'm done with this. We're going to find your other friends, than we're going to take them to the arms storage and give these bastards a fireworks show they won't forget."

            I held back my own tears, cause Spot Conlon doesn't cry. "For Skittery."

            "For Skittery."

                                                                                                                                               

AN: I like my little German dude. He's feisty. *hugs Gunter and Skittery*. Yes, these people are cheap, telling Spot that Skittery's dead. They'll get what's coming to them. ^__^

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