Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original Newsies characters. Don't sue me, k?

I posted this chapter kind of soon because it's shorter than the others, so be happy, read, and then review! :D

The sun was setting and Racetrack was tired. It had been a long, grueling day of selling for the Manhattan newsies. News was scarce and headlines were horrible. Because he had had a hard time selling his fifty papers, Racetrack had barely made the evening race. He wondered if Jack managed to sell his hundred. As he walked out of the track's entrance, Racetrack realized that he hadn't seen Danny around the track for quite awhile. He stopped walking for a moment, calculating that he hadn't seen Danny for about 3 days. He stuck his hands in his pockets and kept walking. 'He's probably just busy,' He thought to himself. Busy with what though? Danny's only job was stable work. Ah well. It was all for the better. Racetrack didn't need Danny by his side all the time, pestering him about a stupid bet or card tricks.

He took in a breath of New York air as he traveled back to lodging house. He could smell the sewer, the garbage, the rotting breads from a bakery, and smoke from cigars. He was accustomed to the smells of Manhattan, having lived here most of his life. He could hear laughter trailing from the apartment building as he passed. A cat screeched and there was a loud thud. Someone was yelling and a girl was singing. Racetrack began to hum to add to the variety of noises. It was almost dark and he could just barely see the moon among the tall buildings.

As he turned down an alley, one that he considered a short cut to the lodging house, Racetrack kept a wary eye on the dark shadows. Although he knew the sounds and smells of New York, one could never know what lay hidden in the alleys. His footsteps echoing against the walls, he stopped humming. He had heard another pair of footsteps. Racetrack paused and perked a ear. Nothing.

Continuing, he tried to shrugged off his fear. Still hearing the footsteps, he assumed it was just some homeless kid or some other type of street rat. With that thought of assurance, Racetrack pick up his tune.

After a few minutes, Racetrack heard a steady tap accompany the footsteps. He froze and turned around.

Before he knew what had hit him, Racetrack was down on the brick ground. He struggled to get up and saw a shadow looming over him.

Racetrack, on his feet, was quick with his fists, swinging at his attackers face. The shadow quickly ducked and threw another punch at Racetrack's gut. The newsie doubled over in pain.

"Danny's been sayin' some stuff," the attacked said in a low tone while he pushed Racetrack against the alley's wall with a stick. That's when Racetrack, although in pain, realized it was Spot.

Racetrack pushed against the bar that was holding him back. Spot was stronger than that.

"Spot, what's wrong wid you?" Racetrack managed to mutter. Spot loosened his grip for a second. Racetrack seized the moment and quickly pushed away Spot's cane.

Racetrack really didn't want to fight with a borough leader, but when another one of Spot's punches came, Racetrack knew he had to defend himself.

Race quickly took a step back, having received the punch on his left eye.

"Don't you ever talk bad about Brooklyn again, ya hear?" Spot said before Racetrack had a chance to recover from the blow. Racetrack barely heard him. He had tried to return a punch, but Spot had already started making a exit. Racetrack didn't bother to run after him. He sunk to the ground, his back sliding down the wall. The newsie let out a groan, fingering his lip. He was bleeding. 'What in the world was that all about?' he thought numbly, squeezing his eyes shut. The noises of the night flowed around Racetrack, now making him feel dizzy.

"Come on, you've had worse," he told himself in a weak whisper, forcing himself to get up. He staggered his way out of the alley. At least the attack wasn't made far from the lodging house.

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

About 10 minutes later, Racetrack had made it to the lodging house. He opened the door slowly. The voices of boys filled his ears as he stumbled in the lobby. Race clutched his stomach, feeling nauseated. He didn't notice anyone in the room. His vision was blurred and his legs felt like noodles. He sagged to the wooden floor. The boys turned around when they heard a soft thud. Their laughter stopped as they noticed their friend. They rushed forward with wide eyes and furrowed brows.

"Race, what's wrong?"

"What happened to your eye?"

"Are you okay?"

"Who did dis?"

"Race, you awake?"

The questions spewed forth. Racetrack tried to sit up.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he muttered, wiping away the blood that had trickled down his chin from his lip.

"Who did dis to you?" Mush repeated firmly. Racetrack shrugged, not willing himself to answer.

Just then Jack walked through the door. Hardly anyone looked up to greet him.

"Race, you gotta tell us. We'll soak the sucker for ya," Specs said with an angry gleam in his eyes. Jack shut the door behind him quickly before walking to the group of newsies.

"What happened here?" Jack asked in a concerned tone, kneeling down beside Racetrack.

"Someone beat him up," Skittery volunteered. Jack gave him a dry look.

"He won't tell us who did it," Mush said with irritation.

"Get him some ice," Jack ordered after observing his friend's injuries. Boots, who had been watching the whole time, raced out of the room.

"Who did it?" Jack asked calmly, helping Racetrack said up. Racetrack didn't say anything. The last thing he wanted was for Jack to get angry and go beat up Spot. All hell would break loose.

He started to hobble over to the stairs. Jack caught up with him.

"Race..." he said, staring him in the eye.

"I don't wanna to tell you, Cowboy. It'll just cause a big mess," Racetrack said quietly, putting a hand on the railing. This caused to Jack to look even more alarmed.

Boots brought forth a bag of ice. Racetrack nodded his thanks and held it up against his eye.

"I promise, I won't do anything stupid," Jack said with a convincing voice. Racetrack looked down for a moment. Jack did had a right to know.

"I was just walkin' back from da track when some guy comes up and attacks me. I realized it was Spot when he started using his cane as a weapon." Racetrack's voice faltered in the middle of his sentence. As expected, Jack looked confused and slightly hurt. The rest of the newsies in the room had heard.

"Why would he do that? We have an alliance!" Jack ran a hand through his hair. The newsies looked at each other with sagging shoulders.

"He ain't got no rights to do dat, Jack! We don't go beating up his newsies!" Kid Blink said angrily, his hands turning balling up into fists.

"Now, hold on," Jack said, holding up a hand. "He's gotta have a reason. And he's Spot, so I'm sure it's a good reason."

A ripple of agreement went throughout the room. Racetrack started climbing the stairs, his head throbbing in pain.

"Racetrack."

He turned at Jack's condemning voice.

"I didn't do nothin', I swear. He did say somethin' about Danny though," Racetrack said and then turned back to the stairs.

"What's Danny hafta ta do wid dis?" Specs asked, following the boys up the stairs and into the bunk room.

"Yeah, we don't even know Danny dat much," Mush said.

"I dunno. I haven't seen da kid around da track in awhile," Race said, collapsing on his bunk. He was thankful he had a bottom bunk.

Jack stood near him, his arms crossed and anger lighting his eyes. The newsies had also gathered around Racetrack in a tight circle.

"Jack, you gotta go to Brooklyn and soak-" Mush started to say, standing up. Jack pushed the newsie back down.

"Wait. I promised I'd think about this foist," Jack said, plopping on the floor. The newsies sat silently on the wooden floor.

"Look, we know Spot doesn't go around beating up people just for the heck of it, right?" Jack said. Some of newsies nodded and uttered their agreements.

"There must be a reason for his soakin' Racetrack, but we don't know what it is," Boots said. Jack nodded.

"So's, I'll go and talk to Spot. Talk," Jack concluded with a small, forced smile at Racetrack. The injured newsie nodded with an appreciative grin.

"You'll do fine, Jacky-boy. Just wish it was me goin' to talk to Brooklyn," Racetrack said. It wasn't that he was furious with Spot and wanted to go soak him himself, but Race's eye was swelling and his lip was double in size. He just wanted to know why. Besides, he wouldn't even threaten Spot if he had friends behind him.

Jack nodded with understanding. "Tell ya all 'bout when I get back, k?"

"And look for Danny. He probably has someting to do wit it," Racetrack added nervously before Jack left the room.

"You going now, Jack?" Mush asked, standing up. Jack turned, his hand on the doorknob.

"Why not?" Jack asked.

"I would let things cool down a lil," Specs suggested. Jack considered this for a moment.

"Yeah. I guess. But you two are comin' with me tomorrow after lunch, k?" Jack answered with a smirk.

Specs and Mush glanced at each other.

"Shoah," The boys said half heartedly.

Racetrack gave a laugh before leaning back against his pillow and pulling up a thin sheet.

xoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

It had been a quiet afternoon at the Jacob's apartment. They had finished a small supper and were now scattered around the little room, each person interested in a hobby of some sort.

David was writing a letter of apology to Nathan. His hand moved effortlessly across the page while he expressed his thoughts and explained the behavior of Jack. He was so involved with the letter that he nearly jumped when Sarah came up behind him. She stared at his letter for a moment.

"I should be doing that, David," she said quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"It doesn't matter. He's my friend," David replied, his hand pausing for a moment.

"Jack or Nathan?" Sarah asked, her brow creasing. David didn't answer but continued to write. Sarah moved to the other end of the table, sitting down in the wooden chair.

"Have you been talking to Jack lately?" Sarah asked hesitantly.

David looked up. "No."

"So he hasn't apologized?" she persisted.

David shook his head. "Why do you care, Sarah? He's not worth 2 seconds of your thoughts if he can't keep himself from exploding at the sight of another guy seeing you."

"Nathan isn't 'seeing me'! He's just a friend," Sarah replied in an annoyed tone.

"That's not what Kelly thinks," David said, folding the letter in 3 quarters. She looked down at her folded hands in her lap.

"I told him I didn't feel anything for Nathan and he still refused to apologize," Sarah said in a helpless voice.

"Yeah, but that was when he was in front of all the other newsies..." David said with a frown. He didn't want to defend Jack, but it made sense.

Sarah looked up. "That's right...everyone was watching us. Jack probably didn't want to appear weak or sensitive..." Sarah laughed in relief at having come back to a conclusion. She leaned back in the chair.

"That doesn't make what he did right, Sarah," David said warningly, standing up. Sarah deflated. "I've gotta go to bed, but you think about it." David let out a yawn before leaving the room.

Sarah remained, wanting some time to think over her problem. Putting her elbows on the table, her head collapsed in her hands. She knew she loved Jack. She had for a couple of months now. Jack loved her. What more was there? It was her fault. She shouldn't have given Jack a reason to doubt. If only she hadn't invited Jack over the same night Nathan was there. What a huge mistake that had been. But Jack could of at least apologized when she confronted him that day. Even if it was in front of all his newsies.

And what had come over Jack when he beat up Nathan in an alley? Why would he do that? Sarah couldn't see any real reason. Sure, Nathan had hung around her a little more than usual, but he hadn't said anything improper. And even if he had, Nathan had no idea about Jack back then. But wait, Nathan had been sort of cruel to Jack with his little comments about school and being a newsie. Maybe Jack really was bothered by something other than her. What did he say at the distribution center? She recalled something about his not being a student, but a leader and that was more important. The conversation flooded back to her memory. Was he bothered by the fact that Nathan could be a rank higher than himself? Or was he bothered by the fact that he thought she had more respect for someone for went to school?

She groaned, cupping her face with her hand. She couldn't figure Jack out. She couldn't make sense of anything.

"I just need to talk to him," she whispered to herself, rising from the chair. Everyone had gone to bed and the apartment had grown quiet. Sarah didn't even bother to brush her hair that night. Her mind overworked and spirits downcast, her head hit the pillow and she was out.

Thanks for the reviews and story alerts!

Ryan Brooklyn – Lol. I've gotten a lot of 'Hmm interesting's.

lilnewsie77 – Thanks for sticking with my story! Danny is stupid, but mostly misunderstood. :D

Reviews are loverly.