For Brooklyn 2
By: Ambrlupin
Chapter Eighteen: Don't make me
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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"Hey, Race..." Mush gently tapped the newsie on the shoulder, "Maybe you should go home, get some sleep..."
He got a glare worthy of Spot Conlon himself shot at him.
He held up his hands, palms out in a gesture of peace. "Sorry, sorry. I was just sayin...You look like you could use the rest."
Honestly, the other was right. Race could hardly keep his eyes open, much less be able to get up and leave when Ace FINALLY got Red out of that hell-hole, or, in other words, the jail. It was already nearing night, and still no sign of either one of them.
But since he wasn't going to admit he was ready to drop, all he said was, "Im fine, Mush." which sounded pathetic to even his ears, but hey.
"Okay." Mush let it go, which was pretty funny, and Race would, indeed have a nice laugh over that, but not at that particular moment, because at that moment, Ace and Red finally came out of the doors, and finally started toward them.
The newsies that had stayed and waited, got their feet and stretched, each of them looking on in silence as Red stood before them, his eyes bright. "Heya bois." He greeted with a barely contained grin, "Guess what we're gonna do?"
"What?" Docks asked with a raised eyebrow.
"We're gonna go do some research, wont dat be fun?" Red smirked, raising his hand to stop the onslaught of groaning that came with that sentence. "And then we're gonna go rescue our dear little Spot. How does that sound?"
That sounded perfect.
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The soft morning light flitted in through the blinds, casting a yellow haze over the two newsies asleep at the table, their heads laying on the night's work. Red had one arm thrown over his face, cheek pressed to the cool table top, whereas Ace still clutched a pen in his hand, a scribbled sheet of paper in front of him.
They had stayed up nearly all night, going over Ace's brilliant idea, going over it and over it, looking at the legal matters, at every angle they could think of. Nothing could go wrong, because they might never get another chance.
Ever.
Suddenly, the door slammed open so hard it bounced back against the wall, and nearly shut itself again, if someone hadn't dived through it, nearly screeching at the top of their lungs.
"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOIN!"
"Whuzza...!" Red yelped as someone grabbed the legs of his chair and jerked them outward, dumping him unceremoniously onto the floor. "What the HECK!"
Ace, having woken up at the first shout, jumped to his feet, a red-imprint on the side of his face from where the paper had pressed into his skin. "What's...Shorty?"
"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOUSE TWO'S MALFUNCTIONS!" Shorty screamed in anger, smacking both of them in the back of the head. "LOOK WHAT TIME IT IS!"
Red's face paled as he spun on his heel. "Oh god...!" He rushed past the other, Ace hot on his heels. Both were cursing in fluent Italian as they hopped into their boots and scrambled down the stairs.
Shorty watched them go with his arms crossed. WHAT had they been THINKING! By this rate, the only way they were going to reach the station in time, would be with the help of a miracle.
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Spot sat on the train, plastered to the window, his eyes searching for that familiar flash of red hair, that goofy grin, anything at all that would let him know he was out there.
There were newsies, that was for sure, all over the platform, in various stages of shock. They still couldn't believe this was happening. But it was, and so, the New York newsies had lined up to pay homage to the leader of Brooklyn.
But none of them were...
"Spot!"
He straightened at once, sticking his head out the window, "RED!" He cried, voice strangled. "RED!"
There he was, running toward the train, his shirt half-way buttoned, flying out behind him as he got closer and closer...But then the train started and Spot could have cried in frustration. He COULDN'T leave! He just COULDN'T! "RED!"
Slowly the train began to move, but he was so close, and then... "NO!" Spot screamed, sticking his hand out the window, "NO! DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE!" He was whining, but who cares? He was watching his life fade...
"Shut up!" His father growled, trying to pull him from the window, but the boy was like a leech, and wouldn't let go. He clung to the glass, barely budging.
Red skidded to a stop at the edge of the platform, "I'LL COME AND GET YOU, SPOT!" He called, his voice booming. "I'LL COME AND GET YOU, DON'T YOU WORRY!"
That was the last thing Spot heard as the train left his home, his friends, and all he had ever known behind. As he left New York behind.
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Ace managed to catch up to Red a few minutes after the train had left the station, and already faded from view, but the minute he got to his side- and took a MUCH needed breath- Red strode and bolted back the other way!
"WHERE are you going!" The Bronx leader cried, eyes wide. "You cant seriously be thinking of..."
"You're asking me such a dumb question?" Red shot back as he shot off down the road, his eyes immediately picking out a certain poker player from the crowds. "RACETRACK HIGGINS!"
Race jumped, spinning on his heel. "Red? What-" He was cut off as the elder grabbed his shoulders and gave him a sharp shake. "Tell me you have more of that dye. Tell me you do!"
Race blinked, "Uh..yeah, lots. But Red, what are you..."
When he didn't answer, he looked over at the panting Ace, who could only shrug his shoulders, a lost look on his face. He had no idea either. Maybe Red had finally snapped. Wouldn't have been that surprising, all things considered.
It seemed an eternity later, but Red turned around and looked back at the station, eyes hard. "Ya wanna know what im doin? Im gettin ready ta go get my son back."
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"Is he sure about this, Jack?" David asked, barely able to hide the worry in his voice as they watched Red pack for the trip he was going to be making.
"I dunno, why don't you ask him?" Cowboy snapped, tired of hearing that. He heard it from Mush, from Specs, from Skittery, from darn near EVERYONE. He didn't know!
"Cause he doesn't answer anyone when they talk to him?" He shot back, "I mean, I understand what he's doing, I really do, but..."
"Shuddup Dave." Jack growled, "Just shuddup and let him do what he wants. Red's an adult, he can take care of himself. You don't need to lead him around by the hand. Let. It. Go."
David's mouth snapped shut and he looked down at the floor as Red finished and slung his bag over his shoulder. His green eyes were oddly subdued, as if he was thinking, and as he walked out the door, he didn't even say bye to them.
But, as Jack turned to see him off, he couldn't help but see David's point.
Red was leaving nothing to chance, and especially not leaving it up to the bulls of this place. He wasn't going to give them the chance to take him back before he could go help Spot. Which was why...
Which was why...Red's once shocking crimson hair, had been dyed a dark, and reflecting ebony.
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I just got so much reviewing last chapter that I had to put the next one up pronto. You guys make me so happy, and I jump for joy every time I see a review in my email, just waiting for me to open it and hear what you guys think. So thank you...thank you for 69 reviews. Thats more then I've ever had, and it nearly makes me cry to think you all like this so much.
So, thank you and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Drop me a review. -grin-