3 Words 8 Letters- A Spot Conlon Fanfiction

~Chapter Twenty Two~

~Scratch's POV~
~The Next Day~

The same thing happened to Staten.

"Go to Manhattan." Spot orders to the Staten Newsies.
I can tell he was getting tired of repeating the same things over, and over again, and it was rather quite funny, but I didn't laugh.
I need to forget about this stupid dream that crawled its way into my head.
It shakes me to the very core, and I'd rather not talk about it-- I want to forget it completely.
"Ready to go back?" Spot asks sympathetically.
"Y-Yea."
He grabs ahold of my hand and walks closer to me, and it makes a hearty smile stretch across my face.
"Scratch, your killing me. Are you ok?" He asks.
Spot it right by my side, he protects me, he cares for me, he loves me. I should be better than ok.
"You know what? I feel amazing."
Spot smiles. The dream replays in my head and a wince appears on my face. I curl my toes, trying to fend off the memory.
I shake off my current facial expression and replace it with a neutral look.
"Any ideas of where we will stay?" Spot asks.
I shrug, but I'm actually thinking deeply about all the possible places we can call our new home.
It suddenly all clicks into place.
"There's a huge abandoned factory a few minutes down from the circulation cenna. It's only big enough for about two boroughs, though." I explain.
"And we have three other groups of Newsies." Spot sighs.
"Well is there any place in Brooklyn?" I ask.
"There's plenty-- but they all get infested with drunk people and constant bloody fights every night." Spot smirks.
"But we still need to sell newspapers. We're completely broke, and people need there news." I say, realzing are problem is way worse than I thought.
"Of course we do! But we gotta make the best of it, right Scratch?" He says, his voice slowing to a whisper at the end.
I glance at him and he's giving me a smirk-smile combination.
I sigh and roll my eyes. "Sure, whatever that means."

~1 Hour Later~

It was late now and we were strolling through a comfortably familiar area, the Brooklyn Bridge. Spot held my hand with a loose grip and swiftly twirled his pimp cane in his other hand, whistling a giddy tune, whilst I was just looking at the ground and kicking pebbles every now and then.
The moon was making its way into the middle of the star filled sky, half of it hiding in darkness. The dark side of the moon always intrigued me, I always wonder what it's like to be up there. Is it warm or cold? Far or close?

"There's no such thing as the dark side of the moon." Spot suddenly says, stopping his happy whistles.
"But it's right there!" I point.
"Oh come on, don't you ever read the newspapers? The moon is actually lit up by the sun. It's always dark, and it needs something to give it shine." Spot explains.
"Oh.. well thanks for that I guess." I chuckle lightly. Spot smiles while trailing his eyes from the ground and up to me.

~Entering The Mass Of Newsies~

Spot and I were getting closer to the large group of Newsies, and we started to hear things like, "KICK HIS ASS!!" or "USE YOUR FISTS!!"
Spot widens his eyes and walks faster, and I follow him from behind.
Pockets and Spike were in a heated fight, and Spot went between the two leaders, trying to settle them.
I squeeze through the crowd looking for Jack.

I can't find him anywhere, but I have an idea.
I cup my hands to make a megaphone and yell, "JACK KELLY IS A BASTARD!!"
"HEY. WHO SAID THAT?!" I here Jack scold from the very back of the crowd.
I smirk and slide through the vast amount of people, pinpointing his location.

"Hey, Jack." I say, lightly punching the side of his arm.
"Hey-- uh, was that you who screamed that?" He asks, squinting at me.
"As a matter of fact, yes it was me." I smirk. He rolls his eyes and sighs.
"Anyway, I have a place for us to stay."
Jack perks his head up. "Where?"
"That old abandoned factory a little bit up town." I explain.
"But that only fits like-- two boroughs." Jack says.
"Look, we all still need to sell papes. The other boroughs gotta find somethin else, somewhere else." I reason. Jack nods in agreement.
"And Brooklyn has no where to stay. Why don't they stay with us?" I linger on the question, nervous about Jack's answer.
"Brooklyn?? With us??" He whisper yells.
"They got no where to stay!! And like you said, it fits two boroughs."
Jack sighs. "Fine. Brookhattan is happening."
I laugh at the new name.

Brookhattan.

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Busy again😭😭☠️