Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

Author's Notes: First off, review love. You guys are sweet.

Second, sorry for the long wait. Growing up sucks. I recommend you just don't do it.

And third, this has not been reviewed by my beta. She kinda fell off the face of the earth and I haven't been able to locate her. So I had to proof it as much as I could on my own. I'm the product of a public education, so don't expect too much from me. If you see any mistakes, please note them and then let me know. I won't be upset because I know I'm not perfect.

This Town
Chapter 3

Tyrone spent his nights watching. For the most part, there was nothing to watch, but he enjoyed the act and never complained when it was his turn. He was a Brooklyn boy. Not one of the biggest, or the strongest, or the fastest. But he had a mouth that could spit acid and eyes that where sharp. For a while he was called Hawk but he put a stop the that quick. His mother had gone through hell to bring him into the world, and she had hung around long enough to give him a name. The least he could to was go by it. So Tyrone he was. And watched he did.

He thought of the lodging house as a fortress. Instead of stone and mortar it was wood with with a brick facade, but a fortress none the less and it was his duty to protect it. Most nights is was long, lonely work. He would spend the time smoking cigarettes and playing chess against himself. Both he and his imaginary component where terrible at the game, but it was something to pass the time. When morning came he'd take the ladder back down and crawl into bed. The sixty cents he'd left on the corner table would be gone and one of the better sellers would peddle double for his sacrifice of sleep. He'd be up by noon and had enough time to grab lunch before heading out to get the afternoon edition. This would go on for about a week before he switched off with someone else.

But tonight was different for two reasons. Spot was one edge. It was a rare occurrence, but when it happened everyone could feel it. So instead of working a one week shift, Tyrone was working two. He as a little sore about it. As much as he liked to watch he preferred to do it in the sunlight. Spot must have had his reasons, though, and it was best not to question him. He was the one with the best eyes so in the end it was his duty.

For the past two nights he had little to complain about. The air outside was much cooler and he didn't have to suffer the oven that was the inside. More importantly Pear was with him. And Pear was one hell of a girl. He didn't know what was going down in Queens, and he was sure it was something bad for Rogue to send over so many of her kids. But Pear was with the lot that were refuged in Brooklyn, and she was his girl.

Spot had maintained a strict no girl policy from the day he took control. In truth, Tyrone didn't object. Girls meant trouble, often a lot of it. But it also meant that there were a lot of days, sometimes weeks, that he was not able to see Pear. Suffice to say, their relationship was often a rocky one, more off then on. They were on tonight, and he smirked as she rolled over on her makeshift bed. She wasn't supposed to be up there. Spot was bound to find out and give him hell for it. Tyrone figured it was worth it.

He got up from his spot next to her and made his way quietly to the ledge of the roof, avoiding the week spots beneath his feet with practiced ease. There wasn't much in way of excitement happening on the streets below. He sighed and leaned against the ledge of the building, watching as a figure with a crop of dirty blonde hair and wearing dark skirts sauntered down the middle of the road. He let out a high pitched whistle. One that sounded very akin to the many birds that found it to hard to sleep in a city full of lights. She kept walking, but raised her head a little as she passed by. Tyrone noticed the jagged scar running down one cheek and smudged lipstick on the other. Must have been a profitable night he thought as she winked at him before rounding a corner and disappearing out of sight. Josephine was the neighborhood whore. Though she was quick with her tongue, and even quicker with the blade she hid in her many costumes, she treated the Brooklyn newsies like she would family and told them any word of things going down. The wink meant everything was quiet, so Tyrone returned to his pallet and started up a game of chess.

He had just set up all the pieces and was contemplating about whether or not he should wake up Pear to have a real person to play with when he heard a commotion from below. He started, glancing down at Pear as she rolled over and looked at him.

"What's all dat noise?" He hair was a mess and she ran skinny fingers through it as she sat up.

"Don't know. Stay 'ere." He stood up and made his way back to the ledge, keeping low as to not be seen by any passerbys. There were a group of boys walking from the direction Josephine had come from, hugging the shadows as they made their way towards the building. Tyrone eyed them, noting their size and the not so pleasant expressions they wore. Josephine was trailing behind them and, for once, he was very glad she had such a big mouth.

"I don't know what you want with a bunch of little boys when you got a full grown woman ready and willing right 'ere," she called after them. The shawl she'd been wearing a little earlier was now hanging limply in one hand exposing the low cut of her dress and the ample swell of her chest.

One of the boys walking turned to her and scowled, "I'se told you to beat it. If I'se wanted to lay down with trash I'se sleep in a gutter."

She didn't seemed hurt by his words and without missing a beat she walked closer to the other two people. "What about you boys? Your friend there is as glum as they come. But I haven't seen you 'round here before." She hooked her arm through one of the boy's elbow, "Shame for you to walk all this way and not have a little fun."

He jerked out of her hold and struck her across the face. Tyrone let out a muffled curse as she hit the stone ground with a shriek.

"We told you ta cheese it, sweet face. But you'se hard of hearin'."

"What's goin' on?" Pear asked. He didn't bother to look over at her, instead he held up a hand

"Shud up, will yah." he hissed in her direction. The boy was now holding a piece of wood above Josephine's head.

"Tell me where dat Conlon kid is and I won't have to clean da wax outta you're ears."

She pushed herself onto one elbow and held her cheek, the one without the scar, in her other hand.

"What are you, deaf and dumb now? Answer his question." The last of the three finally spoke.

"I don't know where Conlon is. I ain't the boys mother," she said, her eyes locked on the homemade bat hovering about her head.

"You'se betta not be lying to me." He tapped her lightly on the forehead with the piece of wood.

"Course she's lying, Jay, she's a whore. You never trust a whore. Don't matter no way, I see the building the kid stays."

Jay turned turned to his companion. "How da hell do you know?"

"I can read. And we're standing right in front of it."

Jay turned, shouldering the bat and peered up at the sign above the door. Josephine was finally getting to her feet, eyeing all three of them as she made play of straightening out her clothes. Tyrone knew better, and guys assumption was correct. You never trust a whore. He caught the glint that reflected of the blade she seemingly pulled from thin air. The trio hadn't noticed. He turned to Pear, who was doing what she was told for once in her life and staying put.

"Go over to da chimney. There's a bucket sitting on it. When I tell ya to, knock it down into da fireplace."

She frowned at him, glancing to the right where the chimney stood. "What? What the hell is going on?"

"For God's sake, stop asking da same stupid question and get moving." He waited until she nodded before peering back down at the street below.

"Must be it." Jay said as he walked a little closer. "Not too shabby for a bunch of street rats."

None of them noticed as Josephine crept up behind them, her fingers curled around the hilt of her knife and a determined gleam in her eye. Tyrone saw the look and swallowed hard. Whatever the three wanted was about to get a lot worse if she kept up.

"Hey mister." Jay turned when she called out, flinching back a little when he saw how close she was. He'd must have hit her pretty hard because one side of her face was already starting to swell. She smiled anyway. A cold smile. Jay brought the bat down from his shoulder.

"I hope your realize that's not how you treat a lady."

He chuckled a little and his friends followed suit. None of them seemed to notice the weapon his her hand.

"You'se ain't no lady."

She tilted her head to the side a little, "You know somethin'? You're right." The fake smile dropped and her hand lashed out, arching up across his face. A loud and painful howl escaped his lips as he dropped the bat and reeled back, cradling his head in his hands. By the time the other two saw the blood seeping through his finger, Josephine was already halfway down the street.

"Pear, do it now." Tyrone ordered, his eyes never leaving the scene yards below him.

"Wha-"

"Stop bein' a ass and do what I say!"

The resulting crash as the metal bucket full of rocks clattered down the chimney was enough to let him know she had at least one ounce of sense. By the time the 'warning bell' had ceased its noise one of the boys on the street below had come to his own senses, picked up the bat, and taken off after Josephine. The other two glanced up at the ruckus and saw Tyrone looking down on them.

"What the hell was that you little shit?" Jay asked and Tyrone couldn't help but smirk. There was an angry cut crossing the bridge of his nose and down one cheek.

"Looks like Josephine's got a twin." He taunted at Jay. He cursed at him as he whipped at the bleeding wound.

"You t'ink dis is funny? I'm gonna come up there and beat that smile off you're face."

"Unlikely. You won't even get past da front door."

As he spoke there was a rush of activity as dozens of feet pounded on the roof top. The sharpshooters had come, most half dressed and rubbing sleep out of there eyes. But there was also aa hunger for pain there. Most likely because they'd been interrupted from a good nights rest. Tyrone moved out of their way as they aligned themselves along the edge of the building, pulling slingshots from one pocket and loading up with bits of rock and glass from the other. Pear was still standing by the chimney and he made his way over to her as the shooters took aim.

"Dis is how Brooklyn handles our problems. Rogue could learn a t'ing or two from us." There was a call for fire and all of the boys let go their shots. The resulting cries of pain from below where enough to let anyone know their aim had been true.

She nodded and grabbed his hand, her sight trained on the sight in front of them.

"You forget she was a Brooklyn newsie once. Said it was childish fightin' wid rubber and wood when you'se got two able fists."

He laughed a little, "She's a fool." Pear was still watching the action playing out before them and he gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I'se sorry for yellin' at you like dat."

"So'kay. I figured it was important enough not to get my undies in a bunch ova it." She turned to him finally, "But you try it again and I'se gonna give you a soaking dat'll leave ya sore for da next year."

He laughed again and let go of his hand, "Gotta go find Spot and tell 'im what happened. You stay up 'ere till I get back. Just in case those goons find a way inside."

She nodded and turned back to the boys and their slingshots. He looked back once before making his way to the ladder and descending down, being careful not to put any weight on the steps that were rotting away with rust. When he got to the fire escape he climbed into a window and made his way down to the lobby. The atmosphere in the lodging house was almost electric, and he had to push his way through the crowd of excited newsies to get downstairs, ignoring any calls that were directed towards him. Everyone was looking for an explanation as to what was going on. Tyrone knew he had to report to Spot first before doing anything else.

He found him standing on front steps of the building, fully dressed and a cigarette hanging between his lips as he watched the two boys taking off down the street.

"You did good, Tyrone."

"Thanks." He smiled. Getting praise from Spot was like getting a Christmas present. It wasn't an everyday occurrence.

"We should probably send someone out to find Josephine. One of da bastards went after 'er. But she did cut one of 'em up pretty good." He went on the explain what had gone down in the past few minutes, leaving out the part about Pear being up on the roof, though. Spot stayed silent throughout the retelling, only nodding and flicking the ash off his cigarette occasionally. When Tyrone was done he handed him the rest of it and pulled his cap out of his back pocket.

"Tell Floata he's in charge till I get back. And make sure he takes care of dat Jose business."

"Sure." Tyrone replied and sucked hungrily from the cigarette he'd been given. Spot always had the best tabacco. "Where's you goin'?"

He was already down the stairs before he answered. "Ta Queens. Dat goil needs a wakeup call. I feel entitled ta give it to 'er." He slipped his cap on his head and continued walking. Tyrone watched him until he was no longer in sight. Considering his unusual advantage, it was awhile before he got inside to find Floater and give him his instructions.