A/N: I know, I know. I promised two chapters yesterday, but, well, this one's long. Plus, I wanted to give it its own day. lol Anyway, I hope you really enjoy this one, because I know I do. And I'm just gonna skip the Disclaimer from now on though. I've said it MORE than enough times. lol Happy reading! Please review!

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Conlon Box

Criss-Cross sighed as Trigger showed her into the girls bunkroom. Back when she'd lived in Brooklyn four years prior, all the kids had slept in one room. Except for Spot. He'd taken his own room when he'd turned twelve and really gotten into girls.

Before being brought upstairs, she had suffered through another hour with Trigger, and then introduction to the new cast of Brooklyn newsies. The pairs were obvious. Cards (whom she recognized from her native Queens, but who did not recognize her) was paired with Ice, Advantage had a girl named Bittah, Spunk (who Criss-Cross also knew) was paired with the quiet Valleys, Skater was paired with a sandy-haired boy by the name of Skinner, and Striker was paired with Bullet. Tyrant, Griff, and Alibi were all single.

She found her bag of things on a bed by the window, and looked out it. She saw smoke drifting up from under a hat-brim below, and the rest of Brooklyn shined at her with a light equal to the sun in her opinion.

She loved Brooklyn, more than any other place she'd ever been, maybe besides Colorado. It always made her sad to think that she hadn't been able to call it home for so long. However, that was about to change.

Reaching down the front of her bodice, she pulled out a key that would lead her to something only she and Spot knew about. A place where they could always go whenever they were in trouble. She tied the thin black leather strap it was on around her hand in an "X" like Spot had shown her how to do years before, the key hanging just under her wrist. It was her mark as Spot's younger sister, and it represented her nickname.

Criss-Cross opened her bag, and making sure no one else was around, pulled off the skirt, and pulled on a pair of black pants that had black suspenders, and changed into her normal knee-high socks and black boots. She left the red top and bodice on, revealing her tattoo with pride, but she dropped the silk scarf into her bag with slight disgust.

The last thing to go on was her charcoal-colored cabby hat. She stuffed her now short, auburn hair up inside it, and left the lodging house, headed for the Brooklyn Bridge. There lay an empty warehouse, and that was where she was headed.

Slipping silently in through the door, she made her way through old crates to the far back wall. Walking up a flight of steps, she suddenly noticed that footprints lay on them in the thick dust, and they were recent. Puzzled, she continued her way up the steps.

Stepping through an open doorway, she saw with relief that the box sat where it always had, on the right side of the table that lay under the window. Walking slowly over to it, she didn't know what she'd find. Or even why she'd come, except for with a hope that somehow Spot had left her a trick as to how to win the war.

Like 'eda known what'd be goin' on…Stop bein' such a muttonhead goil… she thought, shaking her head at how ridiculous she was being. The part of her with an actual brain told her to just leave, it wasn't worth getting choked up over. But her heart and soul told her otherwise.

Stepping towards the box, she realized that it had been touched recently, and furrowed her brows. Why's would someone be up heah? She stepped towards it quickly, and inserting the key the hung under her left wrist, she gave it a twist and heard the lock click open.

The Box was an old jewelry box that she and Spot had found floating in the river one day, the keys in a bag that was tied to it. It had served the two well, and you could tell it by the way the roses carved on top had faded due to handling.

Criss-Cross pulled the key out, and the box immediately sprang open, sending a few notes flying to the floor. The thing was utterly full of them. Picking up the fallen letters, she unfolded one. She noticed that small watermarks doused the paper every here and there, and running her hand over it, she began to read.

Sweet Kattie-
I'se so sorry. So completely sorry. I'se never meant ta make you's run dat far. I'se so sorry. Jus come back ta Brooklyn, please. I'se don't blame you's for anythin anymore. Please, jus come home. I'se can't say how sorry I'se is enough. I'se really, truly, sincerely sorry. Jus come home.
Anyways, I'se guess I'se writin another letter askin you's ta come home. But I'se jus wish you's would. And dat everythin could go back ta normal. I'se so sorry sis. What kind a brother does what I'se did? You's don't know how sorry I'se is. Jus wish I'se could tell you's dat now. But I'se guessin it's too late.
You's shoulda seen what Ad did the other day. He was jumpin over barrels in da street, tryin ta cheer everyone up, and he fell right in a puddle. You's woulda loved ta laugh with da rest a us. Though, you's woulda been da one ta help him up. You's always were da nicer of the two of us. Carin about everybody. Jus wish you's would still care about me…
I'se so sorry Kattie. I'se really is. Jus wish I'se realized how much you's mean to me before now.
I'se love you's, for now and forever.
Your brother
Spot

Criss-Cross bit her lip, and closed her eyes tight, trying not to let the tears welling up in the fall. Folding the letter back up, she set it on the table, whispering to it, and the dead Spot, where ever he lay, "I'se still love you'se too."

Picking up another letter, she began to read, Spot's voice playing over in her head:

Kattie-girl:
We's all missin you's. Come home soon. I'se so sorry about what I'se did. You's can never imagine how awful I'se feelin…

From there it was a similar repeat of the next, tear stains dotting it as well, and most of the notes from there on out were the same. Each had a story in it, some small, some large. In some Spot seemed actually happy, and cheerful. But in others he seemed ready to curl up and die. And in a few, he'd written about girls he was with, and Criss-Cross realized how much of a boy her brother truly was.

A sudden voice behind her made her jump out of her skin. She hadn't heard anybody coming up behind her. But den again, I'se pretty inta readin' all da notes…

"Criss-Cross?" it asked. She turned slowly, and found herself staring up at a rather surprised, yet happy Advantage.

She nodded. "Yeah. 'S me," she replied.

"But…What…How?" he asked, at a complete loss for words.

Laughing, she grinned sadly at him and answered, "Wells, I'se got news an' jus' came. I'se ain't 'bout ta let Spot die unavenged. An' I'se ain't gonna let Brooklyn be ruled by Triggah. So'se, I'se had ta come back…"

"But…Why? Why da yas still care 'bout Spot?" he asked, clearly puzzled. Walking over to him, she set her hands on his shoulders, and look long and hard into his eye before answering.

"Cuz 'e's me bruddah…An' siblin's is siblin's. No mattah what…An' even d'ough 'e may have run me outta Brooklyn, I'se still love 'im cuz 'e's me bruddah. An' no amount of bad deeds can change dat foah me. 'E did a ton while I'se in Brooklyn ta moah dan ovah run a couplah bad yeahs."

"Four bad yeahs?" Ad asked, a questioning look on his face. She rolled her eyes at him and nodded.

"Yeah. Even fouah yeahs gets ovah-run. 'Sides, I'se not da type ta hold a grudge…"

"You'se truly are remawkable. Yas know dat Criss-Cross? An' a Conlon ta boot."

She blushed a little. "T'anks. Now, d'you'se t'ink yas could leave me alone foah a little while?"

Advantage nodded, not even asking why she wanted to be alone. Turning, he left her to her thoughts and memories, as a silent tear slid down her cheek, landing in the layers of dust that coated the table. She sank into a chair, allowing her tears to fall on the letter clutched in her hand. Seeing, and talking to Ad again had been too much.

Criss-Cross stayed like that for several moments, her sobs echoing throughout the small room. She'd been able to handle everything thrown at her, up to this point, but now it just seemed to be too much. She was starting to believe that she couldn't handle her current task.

A sudden noise below caused her to sit bolt upright and listen hard. She could hear the voices of Trigger and Griff below her with perfect ease now, and they were headed her way. Jumping out of the chair, she raced to the Box and grabbed all the letters and notes, and as she heard Griff yell "Dere's footprints on da staiahs!" she ran for the window.

Jumping out, she landed soundlessly on the metal fire escape, grateful that she had earned her first nickname of "Kat". She slipped her back against the wall, and listened to Trigger's heavy footsteps entering the room.

"Dere's nobody in heah," Trigger said, angrily. But then his voice changed to one of surprised delight. "Well...Well…Well…What's dis heah?"

Criss-Cross gulped, realizing he had found the open Conlon Box. Then she remembered she had all the papers tucked under her arm. All but one that she hadn't noticed…

Inside Trigger unfolded a paper, and began reading allowed.

"Ta me sweet sistah Kattie:

"Listen goil, I'se ain't got much time, but I'se needed ta let yas know dat I'se still alive. Triggah an' 'is boys tried ta kill me, but I'se soivived. I'se gonna be at Aunt Helen's. Yas still membah wheah dat is, righ'? If you'se get dis, go dere ta look foah me. As in da rest a me letters an' notes. I'se really sorry. I'se jus' wish yas can foigive me. An' dat I'se can make it up ta yas one day. Much love sistah. Your bruddah, Spot.

"Aw, how sweetly disgusting…But dat solves two mysteries now…Back tad a lodgin' house! Now!"

Criss-Cross heard him crumple the paper and felt hot tears stinging her eyes. Spot's alive! she thought, bewildered. Her beloved brother was alive, but if she didn't get to him fast, he wouldn't be for much longer. Jumping down from the fire escape, she took off back to the lodging house at a sprint. She wasn't going to lose Spot again…

A/N: Spot: I'se not dead! Ha! Ha! Oh, an' please review!

No! You aren't! Nothing could kill the great Spot Conlon! And nothing can split up the Conlon team! Anyway, like Spot said, please review for my sake! Much love all! Shout out time!

Shout Outs:

Nosilla: grins wickedly You'll see…And glad you like it! And yeah, poor Criss-Cross.

Noelani: Yeah. I know. It's REALLY long. lol But it's my baby. Not to mention, it's a complicated intricate story, kind of. And the chapters are pretty short at the beginning. lol Glad you think it's cool that! That always makes me happy to know! And thanks, I've been wondering about the accent...

Angelfish: Yes! Another chapter! And you gotta love sub-plots! lol They keep life interesting. And they actually did make sense. lol

Jittery: It's okay. I don't mind. Just as long as you post them front here on out! sheepish grin And yeah, I'm pulling a Spot on you and being rude there. Anyway, I'm glad you love it! And I'll definitely keep writing if you keep reviewing!

Bittah: Yuppers. lol I love them. Not to mention it makes my story longer and more interesting. There's more sideplottage coming up later. And I'm working on keeping writing!

Spot: Now go review peoples!

Yes. Do please go review! Much love! Criss-Cross