For Brooklyn
By: Ambrlupin
Chapter Four: Mark my words
Summary: "If someone out there is strong nuff to soak Brooklyn..." The manhattan boys have their work cut out for them- to take care of the handful of surviving Brooklyn newsies, keep their turf and men safe...and send out a rescue party to save one Spot Conlon...and Brooklyn with him.
Disclaimer: No. I. Do. Not. OWN. Blah.
A/n: FIRST Newsie fic! Please be nice and give me credit? Ok?
Warning: Blood and maybe more torture is ahead in the rest of this story. Please be wary if that stuff offends you. Thanks!
Again, word to my beta!
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"Weakness. How I'se hate that word. To show weakness means youse are a sissy, and I'se no sissy; Im Brooklyn. Ya hear me? IM Brooklyn. And Brooklyn neva falls." - Spot
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"Hey...Red?" Jack murmured as they made their way to Queens. It had been more than a few hours, and the cowboy was getting a little wary of the silence."David told me about your side."
"Yeah?" He said, a slight tightening around his eyes as his hands closed up in his pockets.
"What happened?"
For a while, Jack sighed and pulled his hat down a little, certain his partner wasn't going to tell him, but then Red began to talk, and he began to listen.
"It was 'bout a year after I started to train Spot to be leadah." His voice was low-pitched, soft even. "We were doin well, or as well that could be expected with newsies from all over New York tryin' to take us over..."
"You're gettin real good, Spot." Red commented as he looked over his pupil's handiwork. Broken bottles lay on the ground, a few harder to get ones just slightly hit or not at all. But he was getting better day by day.
"Yeah?" The little kid looked up at him with a smile, but then a hardness flitted into his eyes. That was becoming more and more frequent actually. He was growing up quick. "But when am I gonna be as good as you?"
Red glanced down at him for a second before his hand moved, pebbles flying through the air to smash through the five bottles that were left. "When ya can do dat, kid."
Spot's eyes were wide, "I...I'll neva do dat, Red!"
He ruffled the youth's hair, stowing his sling-shot back in his pocket. "Sure ya will, Spot. Its gettin late, though. Why don't you head on back to the safe-house?"
"Aren't you comin wit me?" He asked, hanging his sling-shot by his belt loop.
"Naw, I'll be along in a bit. I got a few things to check on, ok?"
Jack glanced over at him, "What were you checking on?"
Red licked his lips, "I heard rumors that Queens was trying to sell papes on our turf. I went to check it out."
Cowboy whistled, "But wouldn't it have been better to wait till ya had more men 'fore you went after em?"
"I was foolish." He whispered.
"Brooklyn trash!" A foot landed another kick to Red's side, making him gasp and curl up on the ground, blood dripping from his mouth and from a cut across his face.
"At least...Im betta than youse...Queen's dogs..." He managed to rasp, "I don't...crawl on the ground...licking my master's feet.."
"Shut up!" Something came down hard across Red's back and he screamed, jerking and trying to get away from the ring of older boys that surrounded him.
One of them laughed, pulling the horse's whip away, stained with blood. "Whose a dog now, eh?" He brought it back for another strike before a hand reached out and snagged his wrist.
"No. Wait a minute."
Red looked up, eyes glassy from the pain, "Hit me again, ya sissies! Hit me, I don't care!" He spat blood onto the ground and waited for it. But it never came.
Instead someone squatted in front of him, ebony hair falling over a pair of black eyes to match. He looked older than anyone there, eighteen, nineteen maybe. He chuckled, "I like that spirit, boy. Why don't you come and work for me."
Red snarled, his eyes flashing fire. "I work fer Brooklyn, not fer some piece of crap that aint worthy of the bottom of my leadah's shoe!" He spat some blood at the other, satisfied when it hit him square on the cheek.
The newcomer reached up and slowly wiped it away with the back of his hand while his men cried out in rage.
"Karlof." One of the newsies came forward a little. It was the one with the whip. "D'ya want me to teach him a lesson?" He snapped the weapon, growling angrily at Red.
"No." Karlof said, and that was all the warning Red got before the elder grabbed his head and slammed it against the stone underneath him. The redhead gasped, the world spinning and doing flips, his vision turning gray.
"Get me the brand." Karlof said as his newsies cheered. "You say you're Brooklyn's property?" He asked with a smirk as he bent his face closer, "We'll have to change that."
"They branded me." Red said heavily, lifting his shirt to flash his side at Jack.
The other winced in sympathy, "Then what?" They had almost reached the warehouses by the water, which was where Spot most likely was, but they still had some area to cover first. "I mean, they still wanted Brooklyn, right?"
"Oh yeah, they wanted Brooklyn." Red let his shirt fall back, his hand stopping to run over the top of the cane before pulling his coat over it. "They sent half of their men to take it."
"What happened?" Jack was enthralled. He had never known about this.
"Spot took care of em." Red sounded beyond proud as he lifted his face to the morning light. "The kid didn't have a clue as to what he was doin', but he protected Brooklyn, and the newsies backed him. He neva knew that was why he got the leadah's position so early in life."
"How did you get away from Karlof and them?"
Red grinned at him, "Whaddya mean, Cowboy? I got away because im from Brooklyn."
Jack laughed, clapping him on the back, "Oh, im sorry. I forgot you Brookies are good at that kind of stuff."
"Darn straight."
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Karlof was, slightly to say surprised to come back and find a defeated Spot waiting for him. "What is this? Giving up?"
Spot mumbled something under his breath, sagging in his bonds, his pants still down and his shirt unbuttoned. He shivered lightly, it was cold in the dark and damp warehouse, with the wind from over the water not helping any.
"Im surprised. The way that one newsie spoke about you, I would have thought you were better than this."
The youth's head rose a little, "What newsie?" He snapped weakly. If they had hurt one of his boys...
Karlof waved it off with a wave of his hand, "It was a few years ago, a tall red-headed kid with a sharp tongue. Spoke about you like you were the greatest thing in the world."
Spot's eyes were wide and his mouth fell open slightly. 'Red?' His mind cried, 'Red was here!' He moved slightly, trying to take some weight off his already aching arms as his captor smirked at him.
"I see the brand came out real nice." He touched the still tender skin and Spot bit back a hiss. "You know, you're the second Brooklyn boy to wear our mark. Sign of the future, perhaps?" He laughed, "Although, you screamed more. Enjoyable, that was."
"Second?" He rasped, trying to get away from the hand that was stroking the brand tenderly. "Whaddya mean?"
"You're not real bright, are you?" The elder snapped, "Honestly, how you can lead Brooklyn is beyond me...Although there is nothing but trash over there anyway-"
Spot snarled, his head throbbing from where he had hit the other. "Don't talk bout Brooklyn like dat!"
Touching his forehead, where some blood had welled up, the other cursed and backhanded Spot so that his head flew back against the wall. "You little BRAT!"
But Spot Conlon was having enough of this. He turned his head back, blood dripping from the side of his mouth, eyes a silver blue fire that made Karlof back up a slight step. "Bring it." He snarled, "Ill pay ya back ten-fold when I get down from 'ere."
The Queen's leader backed up, trying to not let his fear show on his face. He had never seen such eyes before. "You'll pay for this, boy. Mark my words, you'll pay!"
Spot snarled, "I'll be waiting, Karlof."
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here we are- more action for you Spot fans. -smile- then again, if you werent a fan, why would you be reading this?
Now drop me a line using the nifty button the bottom left that says 'submit review' the more reviews i get...the faster i update!