For Brooklyn 2

By: Ambrlupin

Chapter Eight: Brothers always do

Summary: Spot is being forced to leave New York, but how will Brooklyn take it? How will Red...? One thing is for sure though. No one is going to let him go without a fight. (Sequel to For Brooklyn)

Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.

A/n: SECOND half of my first Newsie fic. -smile-

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"You don't get it, do you? Spot isn't just a newsie of Brooklyn. He is Brooklyn. He is the air that you breathe, the ground under your feet, the sky above your head, everything you see he has bled to protect, and you will, BY GOD, SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT!" - Red.

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"Because you defied me, of course." Jake said it calmly as if nothing was wrong as he sat next to Race, belt over his knees. "If you had merely went with it without a complaint your friend wouldn't be here, he wouldn't have been begging for mercy, he wouldn't have taken the blows meant for you."

"You're a sadist!"

With a flick of his wrist, his father brought the leather cracking against Race's face, sending him rolling to the side, a moan slipping past his lips. "Do you wish for more abuse, Matthew?"

Spot stared, eyes wide. "You...you..."

"This is what happens when you defy me." Jake got to his feet, belt held tightly in his hand. He turned his back on them, "Do it again...and I might just take the little kid. The one with the brown hair and the sharp tongue."

"Shorty." Spot whispered, ice slipping down his spine."Don't...Father, please."

He snorted, "If he bleeds any more on my rug it'll be your hide." And he left through a door.

"Race!" Spot was at his friend's side in an instant, trying to get him to stand, "Oh god, Race, im so sorry! I...I...God..."

"Hey man." Race gave him a crooked half smile, even as blood dripped down his face, mingling with the tears he had shed. "What are ya gettin so upset about? This doesn't...hurt at all...im just fine..."

Spot chuckled weakly despite himself. Yeah, Race was fine. And he was in fact a pink bunny who spent his life handing out candy to little children on Easter. "All right, Race. Lets just get you home, okay?"

"Matthew."

Knowing it had been too good to be true, Spot turned, biting his tongue to keep it in check. He didn't want Race getting hurt again. That was the last thing he wanted. "Yes father?"

There was always a chance...

"Come here." He snapped, his eyes bloodshot. Well, there went Spot's one chance.

The youth's eyes shot over to Race, who shook his head, managing a whispered "Don't..."

'Don't what? Don't save you?' His hands tightened into fists as he met the other's tear-stained face. 'There is only one thing I can do.'

"Im sorry, Race, but I cant stand letting him hurt you." He stood in front of his father, squared his shoulders and closed his eyes, waiting for the blow that would send him reeling, snapping bones and tearing skin.

'God, Race...Im sorry.' Was the only thing he could think of as the belt whistled through the air towards his head.'So very, very sorry I got you involved in all this...'

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Red was, needless to say, quite angry at Ace for slipping whatever it was into his drink that morning, and he was in the process of beating the crap out of him, when Boots came rushing into the safe-house, waving his arms and rambling on about Spot.

"Woah, calm down!" David pushed him down into a chair, handing him a glass of water. "Now, talk slower. What happened?"

All Red heard were the words Jake Conlon and he was gone, everything forgotten as he sprinted down the streets, praying against everything that Spot was okay. Because if he wasn't...

There would be hell to pay.

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The blow never came.

"Listen...ya big...lummox..."

Spot's eyes flew open in shock and outright surprise, staring at Race's back as he hissed at the taller man. His left arm was up, the sleeve torn as blood dribbled down it. He had taken the hit in Spot's place.

"Spot...aint sometin...ya can...pummel..." Race's breath was ragged, but he stood his ground, right between father and son. "At least...not without...some payback...!"

Jake fell back from the punch, clutching his nose and howling in rage.

Brooklyn's leader decided now was a good time to run and he grabbed Race's wrist, literally pulling him all the way out of the house and down the street, his father's cursing following him the whole way, echoing off buildings.

Finally he stopped, immediately pinning the other to a wall. "What did you think you were doing! You could have been killed!" His voice was panicked, on the verge of complete hysterics.

He couldn't believe that the other had saved him like that.

It was just...Too hard to believe.

Race, however, just looked at him calmly, "So could have you."

Well, he couldn't argue with that, but... "Its not the same!"

The Manhattan newsie's eyebrows rose a little, "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because...well, because...It just is, all right!" He wrung his hands, looking completely at a loss. "I mean...look at you, Race! I couldn't have...its..."

Race chuckled lightly, but the movement made something inside him burst in a shower of pain and he gasped, legs turning to rubber. He cried out, trying to stop his fall, but all he could do was grab onto the other, bringing them both to the ground.

Spot blinked in shock as he hit the ground, immediately scrambling to his knees. "Race!"

The poker player moaned his name as he curled up on himself, sweat beading on his skin and dripping down his face. "It hurts...oh it hurts...Spot..."

"I know! I know, Race...Just...don't think about it! Don't think about it!" He pulled one of the other's arms over his shoulder, supporting his weight as his panicked mind tried to catch up with his body movements.

What if Race died? What if his father had ruptured something internally?

What if...He was dying even now?

That last thought did nothing to help Spot as he stumbled along, whispering comfortingly to the other youth. He couldn't die, he just COULDN'T! "Don't you dare die on me, Higgins! Don't you DARE!"

Race coughed, blood flecking his lips. "I'll...try..." He gasped.

It was terrible, tiring work, trying to get through the streets as the sun beat down mercilessly on them, burning their skin. There was no one out, not a soul.

'There has to be someone...' Spot thought in desperation, his hands moving so he could support Race better. 'There just has to be someone. Anyone.'

Race moaned as the other's hand brushed against his tender back, sweat pouring down his neck and over the lashes, making him hiss in agony. It was so hot and he hurt so much, it was unbearable, intolerable pain, every piece of his body was screaming.

"Coward."

Gritting his teeth, he took another step, pushing himself to keep up with the easy and yet demanding pace the Brooklyn leader had set. He couldn't let Spot do it all, his pride wouldn't allow it. But Spot's pride wouldn't allow him to help either.

"Just hold on...Race..." The leader whispered, "I'll...get you home...Don't worry..."

The sun must have fried Race's brain more than he thought because he chuckled weakly and let his head fall a little against the other's shoulder. "I wont, Spot...I know you'll take care of me."

Spot blinked, looking down at him. "Is that so? And how do you know that?"

Race just smiled. "Brothers always do."

"Yeah...Ill do dat, im your brother after all, I'll..." The body he was holding up began to feel just a little heavier and he turned to look over his shoulder.

"RACE!" He screamed, spinning to catch the other as he slid off his shoulder, head bowed over his chest...his still chest.

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OK! I updated early, because well...its my b-day, and Prince gave me the greatest present ever, and I wanted to update early. I will still update tomorrow though, but not till late in the day. So...two updates. -cheers-

if you want to see what my present was, put it in your review, and i'll send you the link. im...not smart enough to get it to work on this.

-starts to cry again-