For Brooklyn 2
By: Ambrlupin
Chapter Nineteen: Just bring 'im back
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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"You don't understand, Spot! You've NEVER understood me!" The kid stomped his foot for good emphasis, angered beyond words.
"What's dere to understand? You're a child, not an adult." Spot raised his eyebrows as he looked down at the other, who barely came to his waist- which was really short, come to think of it.
"I am not a child!"
The leader rolled his eyes, he had heard this before. Many, many times. "Yeah? Then
prove me wrong."
"Maybe I will."
Spot sneered, "Oh yes, do dat."
"Docks!"
With a jolt, Docks jerked to attention, rubbing his face as he blinked bleary eyes up at the unidentifiable Manhattan newsie who stood over him. "Whaddya want?"
"You told me ta tell you when Red was leavin..." The kid scuffed his shoe a little, "Well, sir, he's leavin."
'Gee thanks, kid, like I couldn't have figured dat out on my own.'
"Kay." Docks swung his legs over the side of the bed, and raised an eyebrow when he realized the little idiot was still standing there. "You..can go now."
The kid ran off as fast as his legs could carry him, which only had the brooklynite laughing at his expense. Honestly, you would think some people thought that Brooklyn was hell or something, by the way they acted around them.
Reaching out he grabbed his hat and slung it onto his head as he bounded down the steps, jumping the last few. He didn't even pause as he turned the corner and grabbed the person sitting down in the chair.
"Oi, brat. Time ta go!"
"OW!Leggo ya lame brained- Docks?" Shorty blinked wide eyes up at him as he was drug along, "What are you..."
All he had to say where five little words. "Red is on da move."
"Yeah? Then prove me wrong."
The only problem in all his bragging?
He never had proved Spot wrong.
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Race met with Red just outside the lodging house.
For a long while it was quiet, both of them just staring at each other. Race had his hat in his hands, his eyes slightly narrowed, mouth a thin line. Red's face was emotionless for the first few minutes, but then he sighed, and the wall crumbled between them.
"You cant come with me, Race."
"I know."
"You have ta take care of Brooklyn now."
"I know."
"I'd take you with me if I could."
"I know."
Red ran a hand through his hair, wasn't this awkward? "Thanks for the hair dye."
"You're welcome." Race hadn't moved from where he stood, and neither had Red. One of them was going to have to do something. Finally, the latter took a step forward, and then another.
"I guess...I better get going. I have to get on the train somehow, right?" He grinned, trying to play it off lightly, but Race's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.
"Ya sneakin on?"
"Most likely." He shook his arm free, and crossed them. "Why?"
"Unless you want to get thrown off in the middle of nowhere..." Race's hand flipped upward, and handed the elder a small stack of bills. "This will help a bit."
And he just walked away. No, pay me back when you get the chance, no you owe me. Nothing but 'This will help a bit.' Red stared down at the money in his hands and quickly counted it.
Fifty dollars.
Holy. Freaking. Crap.
"Race!" He spun, "I cant take dis!"
Forget not taking it. Where had Race GOTTEN it!
"You can and you will, Red." He turned and looked back at him with his eyebrow raised, "Cause you need ta go get Spot, and you need dat money ta do it." He frowned, and his face fell. "And since I cant be dere...That's the most I can do."
What was he supposed to say to that?
"Thank you."
The other snorted, "Don't thank me, Red." Hands in his pockets, he strode off, lifting a hand behind him in a farewell. "Just bring 'im back."
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He sat on the train, his head propped up by a hand, his eyes slightly unfocussed as he stared out the window, waiting for the train to start. It was an agonizing wait, mostly because he could only imagine what was happening to Spot in the hands of his father.
And nothing he could think up was good.
He wanted to leave now, to leave and return with Spot in tow. But, the Brooklynite knew it wasn't going to be that easy, and honestly, he hadn't been expecting it to be. But he could still hope, couldn't he?
"Uh, Sir?" A small and tentative voice cut through Red's thoughts and he turned to see a young woman with a small child clutched to her chest standing just in the aisle. "Sir, is this seat taken?"
"No, please..." Red moved his small bag and let the young lady sit next to him, the baby blinking wide blue-green eyes at him, gumming on his finger. "Are you traveling alone?" He asked in surprise, noticing no one else had followed her on.
She bowed her head, tendrils of soft caramel hair falling around her face. "Yes sir, just me and Micky." She indicated her offspring with a soft kiss to his forehead.
"Red." He corrected almost instantly, holding his hand out to her, "Please, call me Red."
She took it slowly, almost as if she was fearing a trick. She was cautious and wary- which was a good trait to have being a single mother. Which was obviously what she was. "Tiffany McLean."
"Nice to meet you." He gave her a smile, holding out a finger to the child, "And its nice to meet you, Micky."
Grabbing at his finger, Micky's tiny lips turned up into a grin, and he giggled. Unable to bear reclaiming his hand, the newsie turned his head to peer out at the street, looking for anyone he knew, when he saw it.
There, sitting in the window of a second hang pawn shop, laying up on a black velvet base, was a golden pocket watch. He stared, eyes widening even as the train's whistle blew. It couldn't be. It just couldn't.
Race jerked back, hand clutching the watch to his chest, laughing. "Oh no! I don't think so, bud!" He ran his fingertips over the gold lid. "This is too important ta me, ya know? Its all I have from my past... If I lose dis...den I'll start ta fuhget. And I wont ever do dat."
Race...
"Don't thank me, Red. Just bring 'im back."
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Well well, another update. -cheers- go me! i felt this chapter was a little choppy, because i had writer's block when i first wrote it, so sorry if im not the only one who think's that. -- - hugs- i love you all though, and im happy everyone takes the time to read this and to tell me what they think. Next time i might have a surprise for you!
Ambrlupin