Shades of Grey
Chapter 13 – Something Just Broke
For what felt like hours, Spot and Jack remained sitting outside of Tag's door, waiting for something to happen. Tag had retreated to the corner of his cell, and had refused to speak to either newsie at all. Most of the others along the corridor had eventually quieted down as well, although Candy had reappeared briefly.
Jack had given up on trying to get Spot to talk. He himself was still trying to process the events of the night. Jack had suspected that there was something more to Spot and Race than a typical friendship, but he'd never actually suspected that they were in a relationship, let alone that they loved each other. Jack hadn't even realized that Spot was capable of loving anyone.
But... as far as he could tell, Spot actually seemed to care about Racetrack, which surprised him. And he guessed that this was good for Race, but it wasn't as important as finding Race. And to do that, they needed to bust him out of the Iso place, whatever that was.
"Spot," he began, and then waited for a response.
He didn't get one. Spot was just ignoring him.
"Look, Spot, I was just thinking... the orderlies are going to be here soon. What's your plan?"
That got Spot's attention.
"Plan?" he asked, seemingly amused. "We go save Racetrack."
Jack stared. Spot was usually had a plan. A good plan, not whatever this was.
"Won't they see us?" he pointed out.
Spot paled. "We'll beat them," he repeated.
"But if we can't surprise them, how are we supposed to..." But Spot's glare shut him up.
Obviously, Spot was more distracted than Jack had realized. They needed to find Racetrack, and soon.
"That's not a plan," he pointed out.
"What part of rescue Racetrack don't you understand?!" The sheer amount of frustration in Spot's voice was making Jack nervous. He counted on Spot to be the one that would be able to save the day, just like he knew he could count on David.
At the moment, Jack had a newfound respect for David. David was the brains, and ever since the strike Jack had been relying on David to help plan things out, and make things easier for the Manhattan boys, especially since Racetrack had disappeared.
David would have had a plan.
Of course, David also wasn't there. And Spot's plan... wasn't really that much of a plan.
Spot was kicking himself. He couldn't believe he'd let himself get so distracted so that he couldn't even see the obvious. They did need an element of surprise, and he'd completely ignored that fact. Even Jack, who was definitely not known for having any sort of brains had seen it. But Spot hadn't.
The things Racetrack does to me, he thought, a melancholy smile crossing his face momentarily.
Still though, he couldn't let himself be distracted by thoughts of Race. He needed to concentrate now, so that he could see Race.
Getting up, he started walking down the hall, looking for some sort of place that would enable them to adequately surprise the orderlies once they appeared. Jack followed him without a word. It only took a few moments before they passed a door that was different than many of the others – there were no bars on it. Spot tried the door, and it opened, leading into a supply closet.
"Get in," he snapped, and matched his actions to his words, pulling Jack into the closet and closing the door almost all the way.
"So you have a plan now?" Jack asked sarcastically.
"Shut up, Jacky."
"I was just asking," Jack sulked.
"When they show up," Spot said carefully, hoping that Jack would understand, "we surprise them."
"What if they call for help?"
"We hit them before then."
"But what if –"
"We hit them hard."
"But--"
"Shut up. I know what I'm doing."
Spot turned away from Jack and looked through the barely open door hoping to catch a glimpse of the orderlies.
"This isn't going to work," Jack muttered.
"Either shut up, or be useful," Spot snapped without glancing at Jack.
Soon, he thought. They would have to get here soon.
And he was quite right. Barely five minutes later, two huge hulking figures appeared. They were laughing, and started banging on the doors, seemingly trying to awaken the various captives.
Spot watched as they passed by, waiting for what would be the opportune moment to surprise the two brutes. He saw it as one of them pulled out a huge key ring, and began to unlock the door across from him. Swinging open the supply closet door, he slammed into the orderly, knocking him into the wall. The orderly collapsed into a heap, and Spot grabbed the keys.
Spot whirled around, just in time to see Jack take down the other one.
"Not bad," he commented.
"Thanks," Jack replied. "Now where do we go?"
"We find Racetrack," Spot replied.
"And he's where?"
"Fuck."
Spot had forgotten about that. Pitch had mentioned that Race was being held in some hidden location that only a few people knew about. In this Iso, or whatever it was.
He turned and headed down the corridor, and stopped in front of Pitch's cell.
"Pitch," Spot snapped. "Get up here."
"I'm not going to have any part of this," she replied, appearing at the window. "I've been through... through what Anthony is going through. I won't end up in there again."
"His name is Racetrack," Spot snarled. "And you are going to help us."
"No, I'm really not, and you can't make me."
She walked away from the bars, and Spot cursed in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to hit something, preferably one of Racetrack's captors. Really, this Pitch would qualify, if he hit girls. Which Spot didn't. Still...
He began to try various keys on her door, cursing under his breath as none of them worked.
"Let me try," Jack offered.
"I've got it," Spot said through clenched teeth.
"I was just offering," Jack pouted.
"Well, you didn't have to," Spot snapped, as he finally managed to find the right key, and the door swung open.
Spot stalked into the cell, and grabbed Pitch by the shoulders. "You and I are going to have a little talk," he told her firmly. "And you're going to help me, or I'm going to make you wish you'd never been born."
"It's a bit too late for that," she answered mournfully.
"Look girly," Spot snarled. "I'm not going to leave Racetrack to be tortured."
"He's probably already broken, don't you understand?"
Spot shook her harshly, and she flinched.
"Spot," Jack shouted. "Don't, she's scared!"
Spot released Pitch, who ran to go cower in the corner, and whirled around to face Jack. "She knows where they're keeping Race. And that's really all I care about right now."
"Please," Pitch whimpered. "Please, it wouldn't make a difference anyway. And I can't help you, I just can't."
"Why the hell not?" Spot turned his attention back to her, and softened slightly when he saw the tears staining her cheeks.
"You don't understand," she choked out. "It... I can't."
Jack stepped past Spot, and knelt besides her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're just trying to save our friend," he told her quietly, with a pleading quality to his voice that Spot didn't know Jack could have. Jack had always prided himself on being a charmer, but this was overkill. Although if it worked, Spot really didn't care.
"He won't still be your friend," she replied, her voice a bit steadier. "Iso... it destroys you."
"You survived it," Jack pointed out.
"No, I didn't."
"What do you mean?" Spot interjected. "You're right here, talking to us."
"But I'm not... I'm not like I was. Before... I was a leader here. And now... please, every time I even think about going against them..." she trailed off, and buried her head in her hands.
"But if you help us, then maybe Race won't end up like that. Please, Pitch. Help us."
To Spot, the pleading quality in Jack's voice was utterly ridiculous. But it seemed to affect Pitch, who winced visibly.
"Why do you care so much?" she asked. "What is he to you anyway?"
"I told you," Jack replied. "He's our friend."
"That's what he is to you. But you aren't the one I'm talking to."
She stared at Spot, giving him a silent challenge.
"That's none of your fucking business."
"Are you the boyfriend Anthony mentioned?" When Spot still didn't answer, she continued. "I'm not going to help you unless you answer me."
"Yes," Spot finally spat out. "Satisfied?"
"Do you love him?" She paused when she saw the look on Spot's face. "I... I need to know."
Spot opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn't bring himself to answer. He wouldn't.... he couldn't deny that he loved Racetrack more than anything. Maybe even more than Brooklyn, which was a thought that terrified him. He hadn't thought that anything would replace Brooklyn in his heart. But when Racetrack had disappeared, all thoughts of running Brooklyn had vanished, and had been replaced by thoughts of Race.
Yet he still couldn't bring himself to actually say how he felt about Racetrack out loud, especially to someone who wasn't Race.
But if this was what it would take to save Racetrack...
"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "I do."
A single tear ran down her cheek. "I guess... I guess I can try."
"Thank you," Jack said, pulling Pitch to her feet and giving her a hug.
"I can't promise anything," she told them. "I can't... I can't go near there. But I can tell you where it is and what to expect when you find him."
"Why are you helping us?" Spot asked more harshly than he had expected.
"You love him," she answered simply. "That's more than most people have."
Pitch walked them out into the hallway, and pointed towards the direction that the orderlies had come from.
"That's where the Doctor's office is. Once you get in, you'll see a side door - that leads to the isolation ward. Anthony... Racetrack will either be in one of those cells or in the reconditioning ward, which is even further down that corridor. If he'd been moved to the reconditioning ward... you may never get Racetrack back. That's... that's where they sent me."
"Thank you," Jack told her.
She smiled, and blinked back tears. "Good... good luck. You'll need it."
Pitch retreated back into her cell, and the two newsies started down in the direction that they'd been pointed in, but Spot stopped after a few steps, and turned around, heading towards Tag's cell.
"Spot, what are you..." Jack trailed off.
Spot unlocked the cell, and took a few steps in. Tag was huddling in the back of the cell, and looked up at Spot with pleading eyes. "Please," he whispered. "Please don't hurt me."
Spot continued to advance, not entirely sure what he wanted to do. Beating the crap out of Tag would probably make him feel better, but there was something fundamentally wrong in hitting him. It would almost be like hitting a girl.
"Fuck. You're not worth it," he muttered.
Tag flinched back from Spot's words, and Spot turned and stalked out of the cell.
"C'mon," he muttered. "Let's go find Racetrack."
Spot and Jack had found the doctor's office without any issue, and managed to get through into the isolation ward. They checked cell after cell, and found no trace of Racetrack anywhere. As time passed with no sign of him, they grew more and more nervous and frustrated. Spot was beginning to wonder if there was anyway at all that they could possibly find him.
Finally, they reached the last doorway. Spot inserted the key, and opened the door. He could hear faint screaming from a very familiar voice from somewhere close by.
Racetrack.
Spot's eyes narrowed, and he broke into a run, Jack following close behind. Nobody treated Racetrack that way. Nobody.
They followed the sounds until the noise faded away, and Spot could make out individual words. It was definitely Race's voice, but the words coming out of his mouth were entirely foreign to him.
Racetrack was begging.
The sound of Racetrack, who was usually so calm, so confident begging caused Spot to freeze in his tracks. This wasn't... Racetrack couldn't have actually broken. There was no way that Pitch had actually been right.
No... Spot kept going forward, narrowing his eyes. He was so close to finding Racetrack now, and he wasn't going to stop. If the worst had happened, he would just have to bring Race back. He would bring Racetrack back.
Spot motioned Jack forward, and they looked into the last door. A man and a woman were standing over a hunched figure, and Spot caught his first glimpse of Racetrack.
Race was sitting on the ground, his hands clutching his knees, legs pulled up to his chest. He looked thin, worn and ragged. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, and there were faint bruises covering him. His eyes were haunted, and he was slowly shaking back and forth.
The man was speaking, and it took a moment for Spot to understand what he was saying, but the words filled him with horror.
"What friends do you have?" the man asked.
Racetrack raised his head, and stared right at the man, his eyes blank. "I... I don't have any."
The man beamed at him. "What about Jack Kelly?" he asked.
Racetrack started rocking back and forth again. "Please," he whispered. "Please don't..."
The woman went over and pressed a button on the wall, and Racetrack flinched back in seeming agony, although Spot couldn't figure out what it was that was hurting him.
Race was gasping now.
"Unless you want another shock, you will answer the question, Anthony," the man said.
"Please, no more," Racetrack begged again.
"Jack Kelly is not real," the man said. "Now who is Jack Kelly to you?"
Jack took a deep breath, and gasped audibly when he heard Racetrack speak in a tiny voice, seemingly terrified.
"He isn't real. He's not my friend. Friends don't leave you."
"And what about Spot Conlon?"
Spot clenched his fists, and took a step forward. He didn't know if he could bear to hear Racetrack say he wasn't real.
Then Racetrack began to speak.
Author's note: I am an evil bitch. And guess what, I'm not updating again until after nano. Enjoy the next month!
Many many thanks to B for helping fix the rhythm of the jokes, and putting up with my freakouts about this chapter (and fixing the dialogue, and the ending, and generally just being an awesome person) loves madly
Also, Shades won awards in Lutes fanfic contest! loves to Lute
And seriously, next chapter will feature Racetrack's answer, and maybe even a rescue.
Shout-outs!
Shakespearean Fool-Glad you approved of the timing, and I hope you won't be too sad with this cliffie... I'm glad you liked it!
Rina-afsdjkk;aldsfjkl;asjfdk;asdjfk Now I have a horrible idea for a captain planet/newsies fic. This is your fault. (And the smut is coming, stop panicking :-p)
Aura-poor little tag needs a hug. And Spot didn't really hurt him...
Rachel-Mush isn't going to be doing much saving in this one, I'm afraid. And as for them being stuck, well.... Just wait.
B-Thank you for letting me abuse Tag. And encouraging me to abuse Race. And being awesome. loves
Rumor (Three times! W00t!)-I missed you, and I'm so glad that you're back now! And I'm glad that you're enjoying, because that makes me quite happy.
Saturday-Hi! Your reviews are always so awesome, I seriously did a little dance when I saw you'd read this. And I'm glad you enjoy what little humor is in this, because yeah, I like the angst. A whole lot.
Iambic Pentameter-I made SpRace your OTP? boggles Wow. That's like... the most awesome compliment ever. Thank you!
Til next time!
TSB
