Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. Disney does. As I have said many times, if I owned any part of the Newsies, would I be wasting my time writing a fan-fiction about them?
A/N: This is a one-shot I thought off the top of my head. Technically, it's the first one I've ever written with no OC, so this should be fun.
…
Fault
"Dammit, Jack, why'd ya hafta go and play the hot-shot? Why'd ya hafta…?"
"Dunno why you'se the one killin' yerself, Spot." Racetrack and Spot Conlon were sitting in the Manhattan Newboys Lodging Home, both of them with extremely dark looks on their faces.
Spot was pacing back and forth, obviously furious with himself. "Why'd ya hafta, Jack? Dammit…I should'a done sumpin'. I should'a tried ta help 'im or sumpin. I should'a soaked a few a them ditry rotten scabbers, or slugged some a them coppers. I should'a helped him…"
Racetrack suddenly stood up, grabbing Spot by the shoulders, staring at him straight in the eye. "SHUDDUP, SPOT!" Spot was shocked for a second, and there was a moment during which the two of them stared at each other in silence. Spot finally broke away from Racetrack's firm grip, turning and walking away from the rest of them, leaning against the wall and looking out the window at the pitch back street.
Racetrack's hands clenched into fists. "You gotta stop killin' yerself, Spot. We all could'a done sumpin'. We all could'a soaked a few coppers or scabbers. But we had to get out, dammit. That's what we all tried to do."
Spot was looking out the window still, just barely hearing everything Racetrack was saying. He was even surprised Racetrack had so much energy to yell at him. He had hardly been up for an hour. Suddenly, it hit him. This must be hurting Racetrack a lot more that it was him. Racetrack couldn't even help himself. Spot looked at the window and could see the reflection of Racetrack as he looked at Spot with hurt eyes. He still didn't look very good…
Racetrack sat down on one of the bunk beds, putting his head in his hands. Spot couldn't tell if he was crying or not. If he was, he was somehow able to disguise his voice to make it seem like he wasn't. "If it's anybody's fault here, it's mine. All I managed ta do was slow all you guys down. I couldn't even get out on my own."
Spot spoke to Racetrack, still staring at the window at Racetrack's reflection. "That wasn't your fault, Race."
Then, David came up the stairs. Both Spot and Racetrack turned and looked at him with surprise. It wasn't often David came to see them. Of course, it wasn't often a riot broke out against the newsies of New York and the police. Les was walking behind David, looking just like the scared and confused nearly ten year old boy he was. He probably didn't understand everything that was going on.
David looked between Spot and Racetrack, slightly confused. "Who in the world said this was anybody's fault?"
Spot looked back out the window, almost as if David was no longer there. Racetrack looked down at his feet, his shoulders hunched over.
David walked between them. "Who in the world said this was anybody's fault? We all did our best, and there's nothing we can do about it now. All we can do now is support Jack and hope for the best, instead of hitting ourselves over the head."
Spot stared still out the window, watching as a single leaf blew down the dark street. Racetrack continued to look at his shoelaces. It was as if David hadn't even said anything. David looked between Spot and Race, and then sighed, turning back around. "Or you can just sit there, doing nothing, blaming yourselves for something that isn't your fault. If you actually want to help Jack, I'll see you tomorrow." He then walked glumly out the door, grabbing Les by the hand. Les tried to look over his shoulder at Race and Spot, but before anything could escape the boy's mouth, David had pulled him around the corner.
Nobody said anything. Both of the newsies stared blankly at their spots, their minds going over what David had just said. There really wasn't anything to be said, frankly. They all knew what they had to do. It was getting the strength to overcome their self pity and accept what had happened that was the difficult part for both of them.
…
A/N: Please review this! Feel free to point out any mistakes I made or anything you don't like about it.
