AN – Sorry. Took forever, and kind of a filler.
Skittery aimlessly wandered the quickly darkening streets of Brooklyn, hesitant to head back to the lodging house. He wasn't in the mood to be surrounded by a bunch of rowdy boys, and it was too early to go to sleep to escape them all. He paused near the bridge, considering his options, wistfully thinking how if it wasn't for Spot he would just leave. He would cross the bridge, jump a train, and never look back. The temptation was too great, so he swiftly turned, and headed back in the direction of the lodging house.
He yanked his cap off, shoving it in his pocket, and running a hand through his hair, causing his shaggy hair to stand up on its end. He almost ran directly into the two girls walking in the opposite direction of him. "Sorry," he muttered, glancing up, and recognizing the one girl as Spot's friend.
"Skittery, right?" Nicole flashed a brilliant grin at him, as the older girl next to her yanked on her arm in impatience.
Skittery gave a grunt in reply, as Nicole swatted the girl's hand off her."This is my friend Spot's cousin," She explained, gesturing to the girl, who was close in age to Skittery. The girl seemed unimpressed, but Nicole ignored it, and plowed on. "This is my sister, Elizabeth," She tried another introduction. The family resemblance between the two rendered the explanation quite unnecessary in Skittery's mind.
Skittery raised his eyebrows, gave a slight nod, and smirked, before side stepping the pair and continuing on his way.
Nicole huffed, and placed her hands on her hips, only to be tugged along again. "Come on Nicole, if we're late again, Dad'll be angry."
Skittery couldn't help but widen his smirk as he heard that comment from behind him. He'd bet his last penny those two didn't know anything about an angry dad.
"Skittery!" He heard from behind him, and turned to see one of the other newsies walking past the two sisters. He bit back a groan, when he saw who it was. Pretty Boy had been with the Brooklyn newsies for close to a year now, and Skittery had yet to trust him. It wasn't that he'd ever done anything out and out that caused Skittery to not trust him; there was just something about him that rubbed Skittery the wrong way. His answers were always a little too slick, much like his hair.
Pretty Boy was a couple years younger than Skittery, only a year older than Spot, but his build and features caused him to look closer to Chance's age. Skittery secretly enjoyed this, since that meant it also made it harder for him to sell papers.
"Heya Pretty Boy," he mumbled through his cigarette as the boy caught up to him.
"Hi, Skitts," He responded, falling into step with him. Skittery flinched inwardly at hearing Pretty Boy call him Skitts. He really didn't like anyone but Spot, Chance, or Lawrence to shorten his name, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
The walk back was rather quiet, and Skittery couldn't figure out why Pretty Boy had called out for him to wait for him, unless he was afraid of the dark. He let out a chuckle at that thought, as the two boys arrived outside the lodging house. Placing his hand on the dull brass knob, Skittery started to turn it, when he heard Pretty Boy say something,
"Huh?" He asked, letting his hand fall and turning back around, slightly annoyed that he'd been mum the whole walk back and waited until right before they were going in to speak.
"I asked if ya knew dat Spot's got Hound snoopin' 'round on youse," Pretty Boy repeated.
Skittery sighed, not knowing whether Pretty Boy was being honest, and if he was, whether he was trying to be helpful or just stir up issues. He highly doubted it was the former.
He wavered for a second, unsure what to say, and then just shrugged, and walked in the lodging house without responding.
His eyes searched the room, stopping on Spot whose head was lowered, and was whispering furiously with Hound. He cocked an eyebrow, and rubbed the back of his neck, realizing Pretty Boy may have been telling the truth. He still doubted his motives, however, so he pretended not to notice anything.
His eyes flitted to the group of older guys at the card table. Razz, Sweets, Spades, and Bull, were all sitting around, drinking, smoking, and laughing. He took notice of the fact that Chance was missing, and he picked his way through the common room, and towards the office, digging his change out of his pocket on the way.
Chance was leaning over the counter, resting on his elbows, and talking with Lawrence, playing with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. Both young men stopped talking abruptly when Skittery entered though. Chance raised himself up, and tapped the counter, before bringing his hand up and giving a slight wave. He strode away from the desk, calling over his shoulder for Skittery to come find him when he had a minute and disappeared up the stairs.
Skittery took in the grim, unpleased look on Lawrence's face, and got a bad feeling he knew exactly what they'd been discussing, and exactly what Chance had to say to him. But avoiding the conversation wouldn't postpone the inevitable, so he quickly settled up with Lawrence, and trudged up the stairs, searching out Chance.
The door to Chance's room was wide open, so Skittery just walked in. Chance was lounging on the bed, still playing with the same unlit cigarette, and staring at the ceiling.
"So how long?" Skittery greeted him, figuring there was no need to tiptoe around the subject.
"What?" Chance asked, shaken from his thoughts, since he hadn't even realized Skittery had entered.
"How long? 'Til youse leave? Dat's what ya was discussin' wid Lawrence, right? Dat's why ya wanted ta talk ta me, right?" Skittery face was void of emotion. He refused to let this news bother him. People came, people went. You couldn't count on anyone, and he knew this.
Chance let out a sigh, and shifted on the bed, indicating for Skittery to join him. Sometimes that kid was too smart for his own good. Skittery looked at him warily, but joined him nonetheless, suddenly enthralled with the laces on his boots.
"Skitts," Chance began, only to see the boy's shoulders tense. Chance bit his lip, weighing the words in his mind, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. Honesty had always been his policy, though, so he decided to just give it to him straight, knowing that was the only way Skittery would accept it anyway. "Couple months, tops. Soon as we find new jobs," He watched for a reaction, but Skittery seemed to understand who the 'we' included.
Chance stopped fidgeting with the cigarette, and lit it before continuing. "You's gonna be da oldest one left now. Da one responsible for watchin' out for everyone."
Skittery nodded, eyes still trained on his boots. "Dat it? Anythin' else?" He asked in a short, clipped voice.
"Dat's it," Chance confirmed.
Skittery gave a curt nod, and rose off the bed, leaving without uttering anything else. Chance gave a sad smile, watching him leave, and leaned back against the wall.
He figured Skittery would give this news the same treatment he gave any news he wasn't pleased with; a quiet, albeit unhappy, acceptance. That was all he could ask for, though.
Spot left Hound on the couch, glancing over his shoulder at Pretty Boy, whose eyes had been fixated on the pair for awhile. He shrugged it off, though, and watched Skittery come down the stairs, and walk out the front door. A casual glance around the room confirmed that no one was paying attention, and he slipped out just as easily, and followed in his cousin's footsteps. He crept behind him, curious to see where he was going, and unwilling to reveal himself yet, out of the knowledge that Skittery's destination would most likely change if he knew Spot was tagging along.
He followed Skittery through the streets, and felt his curiosity pique as they crossed the bridge, and Skittery's steps slowed. He seemed unsure of exactly where he was headed, as he kept stopping and looking down streets, only to pass them by. A couple of times, Spot was forced to dart into a shadow when Skittery suddenly doubled back to take a turn he'd previously passed up.
He came to a sudden halt outside of abandoned building, peering into a broken window, before heaving himself through it. Spot stood back, perplexed, and waited a few minutes before slowly making his way up to where his cousin had disappeared. He glanced around, suddenly aware of how dark and abandoned the streets were, before shaking it off, and peering in through the shattered glass. He blinked rapidly until his eyes adjusted, and he could just barely make out the shapes through the haze of smoke and candlelight. Spot could see Skittery sitting in a makeshift circle, but he couldn't figure out what exactly was going on in there, or how Skittery even knew these people.
Hearing footsteps, he backed away from the window, and blended back into the night, as another figure made their way up and through the window. He was beginning to get frustrated, he hated not knowing what was going on, and he was tired, but he knew he'd never find his way back to Brooklyn on his own, so he sat down and leaned against the brick wall, waiting for Skittery to show himself.
He nodded off to sleep, only to be woken back up a couple hours later by someone kicking at his leg and hissing at him. "What da hell are ya doin' out 'ere?" Skittery stood in front of him, glaring down at Spot, barely able to contain the anger in his voice.
Spot rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and stood up, responding indignantly, "I saw youse leave, an' I wanted ta know where youse was goin' and what youse was doin'!"
"Well it ain't none a ya damn business. Now c'mon, we gotta get back."
The walk back was silent and the tension hung thick in the air between the boys. Skittery was mad at Spot for following him, and Spot was mad at Skittery for refusing to tell him what he was doing in the basement of an abandoned building of Manhattan at night.
When they got back to the lodging house, Skittery eased the door opened, and shot Spot one last look, reminding him to be quiet. The two crept up the stairs, and snuck in their beds undetected, but neither of them went to sleep. Spot laid awake trying to figure out when Skittery had started keeping secrets from him. Skittery laid awake, hoping Spot was too young to know where he'd been and what he'd been doing.