Twilight: Thank you! And thanks for reading my new story!

Brunette: Holy shit. For you to say my chapter was "breathtaking, vivid, and real" is SUCH a compliment lol. I'm a huge fan of Hellie 'a Brooklyn and I absolutely adore that story and the way you write it. Flawless. Thanks a ton man! Haha! No, it definitely took nerve to kill Jack and David is strong for doing that lol.

Buttons: Oh hun, don't hurt yourself running around like that! lol you're silly. Poor Brutus…pulled in so many different directions. BrutusBrutal, I never thought of that! HIGH FIVE!

A/N: I started another story! Read it if you have time! lol

Chapter Six: The Noble Words of Brutus

David took a deep, soothing breath. Just relax. He gripped his sweaty palm on the doorknob and twisted it, swinging it open widely. So much for relaxing; Spot faced him just outside the doorframe. He stood upright and rigid with his arms crossed over his chest. David winced as he eyed the sour expression on his face. It was intimidating with his steely, gray eyes stabbing him fiercely. The boys behind David all stared ahead of them and waited for one of them to speak.

"What's goin' on, boys?" Spot asked as if nothing had happened.

"Uh, we—I gotta, ya know," David stammered. He pointed a shaking hand over to the statue where everyone was swarming anxiously. "Speech."

Spot furrowed his eyebrows and looked behind him. "Speech? About what?" Spot asked dumbly. David knew he knew; maybe not exactly what happened, but he knew something happened. Happened to Jack. He had to have known. Spot was just playing dumb, he really know what happened. Nothing gets past him. He knows, he knows. Why was he pretending to be naïve when he knows full well what's going on? Why was Spot messing with his mind?

Suddenly David got lightheaded and a knot in his stomach started to get bigger. Things around him got stretched and contorted dizzily as the noise melted together into one, big, headache-forming sound. He took a few deep breaths and pulled himself together. Quickly he placed his hands on either of Spot's shoulders. "Jack's dead."

"What?" David felt Spot's shoulders immediately tense. "What happened?"

David could feel the heat boiling within Spot and surge throughout his veins. This is what you get, David! "We just found him upstairs…he's been murdered." He forced a tear to come to his eye. "We came in here to talk to him, he went upstairs, and while he was there we stayed down here to talk for a bit. We went up to the bunkroom…and, well…"

Spot's breathing was sharp and forceful. The entirety of his body clenched. "Who did this?" he inquired in a low, growling tone. His eyes shifted to the other boys behind him. "Who did this!"

David, as well as the others, began shaking their heads instantly and started to say things such as "wasn't me" and "don't know". David turned behind him and gave a look of helplessness. They shrugged his way and David turned back to Spot, who was now beyond raging. "Please…let me make a speech."

Spot glared at him icily for a moment and David saw his life flash before his eyes. "Fine." He shoved his way around David and the other boys and bounded up the staircase.

With another calming breath, David stepped out the door, completely forgetful of the blood stains on his clothing. The conspirators followed him silently as they ambled through the people and to the statue. David's mind raced around and around thinking of what things to say. He was the walking mouth, he could handle this. Words came naturally to him, right? Right. So why were they suddenly blocked from his mind? David noticed the glances given to him by onlookers as they furrowed their eyebrows and whispered to one another behind their hands. This would be tough.

The crowd's cheers and joviality vanished and turned into murmurs. They watched David climb onto the base of Horace Greely's statue and stand before them. David felt sickened once again as he looked out across the many people and down at the six faces that wore unsure expressions. Even Skittery looked uneasy. David slowly raised his arms to speak.

"B-Boys…Girls…" he stuttered. The crowd didn't seem to obey. "Everyone, listen up!" he shouted. They snapped to attention and quieted. "I'm afraid I have some awful news to bring you…" He looked down at the six boys and continued. "Jack Kelly…just now…has been killed."

A split second of silent shock waved over the entire mass. And a second later they erupted in angered shouts and saddened cries. David watched as the group began moving about each other, asking if that was in fact true.

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this news. Not ten minutes ago we found out," David called. "Please, listen to me though!"

The wailing subsided a bit as they looked to the brave man upon the statue with blood on his clothes and pity in his eyes.

"Jack Kelly was a great person. All of you know that and there is no denying it. He was courageous, smart, and he always looked out for his boys no matter what. Always had your back."

Several nodded in agreement as they fought to hold back tears. He noticed a small boy no older than eight years hold his face in his hands. Many girls were holding each other and sobbing with tears streaming down their cheeks. David could only imagine what Sarah was going through and that thought killed him. But the cause was much greater than this, so he continued.

"However!" The newsies looked up at him in puzzlement. David began to pace up and down as he spoke, a thing killers do to gloat of what they just did. "There had to have been motive for this vicious crime. And no, my friends, jealousy was not the incentive of this killer! Envy of Jack Kelly did not kill him. But this murderer knew what lay ahead of everyone in New York. They knew what could happen, had this official 'coronation' take place. They knew of what could happen to Jack if he was made the ruler.

"But don't misunderstand me!" David raised one arm. "Jack was a good friend of mine and I am just as upset as you all are right now. But I got to thinking in the mind of a killer. The twisted mind of this killer. My fellow newsies, I've come to an understanding of this killer's motive! I thought back to Jack's reign as unofficial leader. During the strike, did you not see him turn against us? Did you not see him betray us? How could we prevent that from happening again? And it hit me-er, the killer to murder Jack and put off any chance of that happening again."

David noticed many boys cock their heads in thought and even saw many nodding. He had won the newsies' support.

"For Jack Kelly…there are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor for his valor…and death for his ambition. So with this speech, have I offended any of you? Speak up!"

David's eyes scanned over his crowd and saw them become one in agreement. One person began clapping and said "we're with ya, Davey!" and soon the entire mass of newsies was applauding him. He had won their trust. He had won their respect.

He hopped down onto the cobblestone in front of the conspirators. They now wore different expressions that were of satisfaction. Boots nodded at him happily as David began to walk through the throng of people. They continued to clap and applaud him, complimenting him and patting his shoulder.

"Let Dave be leader now!"

"Live, David!"

"We'd be lost without ya, Davey!"

The guilt eating away at his conscious lessened as he moved out of the populace. He almost smiled to himself had he been more sadistic; however, he had just killed his best friend in cold blood and there was no replacing that. He started his way home by himself to forget about this day.

With a bloody, red bandana clutched tightly in his hands, Spot made his way to the statue. The newsies still clapped about David's speech and talked amongst themselves of what a fine boy David was. Spot hoisted himself onto the base of the statue and held his arms above him. At once the noise stopped and all attention was upon the leader of Brooklyn. They assumed he too was going to talk about the silver lining of this cloud, and about how Jack was too ambitious to be the king of Manhattan, and how this was actually a good thing; they prepared for Spot to do the exact thing David had just done. They assumed wrong.

"Friends, newsies, lend me your ears…"