Spot was usually emotionless. The only thing he really felt was pride, which made him smug, arrogant and a downright ass. For the past week however, he had been stressed out, more angry than usual and, although he would never admit it, cried while he was alone.
On his way to the docks from the Lodging house Spot listened to his second in command, Ace, ramble on about something whilst Spot shook or nodded his head to what Ace was saying.
Finally they reached the bridge. The Brooklyn Boys had a day off so Spot sat on his throne and watched them all splash around, dance and just generally be happy.
I wish I could be happy....
He thought, immediately closing his eyes and shaking the image out of his head. Why would he want to feel anything?
Emotions made you weak in Spots opinion.
The day passed by with no event so Spot was left incredibly bored and restless. He decided to go out and get some food. Alone. This was weird for him as ever since he became a Newsie him and ace went to get food together. Every single night. For the past 7 years.
Spot came across the usual restaurant and got his usual order. His life had, by this point, become routine and he really didn't like it. Same food everyday, same people everyday, same work everyday, same headline everyday. In fact he hated it.
Finally he returned to the Lodging house and immediately locked himself in his room, being the "king" he got his own room. This was another newly common occurrence. Spot used to eat in the lounge surrounded by his friends, now he was rarely found outside of his room.
Ace was becoming increasingly worried about his long term friend, scared almost.
Another week passed and Spot was barely holding together. He was down as anything and honestly wanted to die. He didn't care how. He didn't care who did it. He just wanted to leave.
He was useless, unloveable, hated and disgusting.
Or so he thought.
In Manhattan a Newsie named Racetrack had finally given into himself and realised he was in love with the king of Brooklyn. The boy he saw everyday on his way to Sheepshead. The boy who's beautiful blue eyes raged like storms. The Boy called Spot Conlon.
Race was going to tell him. Today.
Spot was going to do it. Today.
He didn't really care, but at nightfall, when none of his Newsies were around he'd leave a note for Ace and then jump off the Brooklyn Bridge. Spot looked at the scars on his arms. Angry slashes across his wrist from where he felt he had to punish himself. A few were still bloody, clearly New.
Why not just add to them?
Spot thought casually. It's not like anyone would care. He had his sleeves rolled up all day everyday and no one saw them. Why would that change now?
Spot grabbed his shaving blade and put the cold steel into his skin, feeling the warm blood run out and drip onto the floor. That's when the floods of tears hit him. He was emotionless until this point. Empty. At breaking point. Now he he was, crying loudly whilst his wrist was bleeding severely. He cut deeper than normal. Too deep. He quickly wrote a note in case this is what killed him.
Ace,
I would never normally say this but:
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I wasn't good enough.
I'm sorry if I hurt you by doing this. But I needed to escape.
Goodbye.
Spot.
He then considered writing another note for a boy in Manhattan called racetrack.
Race,
I've never had the courage to say this to your face, and I've never said it to anyone ever before:
But I love you,
I really do.
I just know you'll never love me too.
Sorry if I hurt you by killing myself. I probably won't. You probably won't care.
But incase you do.
I'm sorry and I love you.
My last thought will be of you. I promise.
Spot
Xxxx
By this point the tears had blurred his vision completely. Spot put the blade on the side by the letters, dropping a little bit of blood on his work surface. About a minute later he felt extremely faint and started to pass out.
Race had just reached the Brooklyn Lodging house.
He knocked hard on the door, being greeted by Ace.
"Hey, I'm looking for Spot" Race said, slightly nervous of the 6'4" boy made of muscle in front of him.
"He's in his room. Again. Good luck getting him to talk" ace said dryly and walked back into the Lounge.
Race made his way up the stairs until he reached Spots door. There was no sound from inside. That was worrying. Race knocked but with no reply. He was scared for Spot and without thinking opened the door anyway. It wasn't locked which was strange.
Race gasped at what he saw. Spot, the boy he had come to confess his feelings for laying on the floor motionless, blending out from his wrist. He nearly screamed. Tears brimmed races eyes. He closed the door and ran over to Spot, picking him up and placing him carefully on the bed. He then grabbed a medical kit he knew Spot had before attempting to stop the bleeding. After 5 minutes work he was done.
Spots chest was still rising and falling weakly, meaning he was alive. Race collapsed next to the bed, holding Spots other hand and crying his eyes out. Another 30 minutes passed. Race's crying has subsided and he just sat there looking at the unconscious Spot wondering why. Reluctantly letting go of Spot hand he looked around the room, coming across two notes. One addressed to Ace and one to him. He read his one. By the end tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.
He heard groaning and whipped around, note in hand. He ran straight back to Spots bedside, holding his hand and brushing some of the hair, slick with sweat, out of Spots face.
Spots eyelids fluttered open revealing the stormy blue eyes Race loved. Taking in his surroundings Spot noticed he was alive, and Race was there with him. They looked eachother dead in the eyes before waterfalls of tears cascaded down Spots face. Race moved so he was sat on the bed and cradled Spot, holding Spots head into his own chest.
"Please don't leave me again Spot" Race kissed him on the head "I love you too much to lose you"
That calmed Spot down. He lifted his head, still crying slightly and looked straight at Race. They were very close, foreheads almost touching. Both leaned in and shared a long kiss.
"I love you too" spot replied before laying down, bringing Race with him and snuggling up. Race noticed the cuts and scars on Spots wrists and arms.
"How long have you been down for?" Race asked before kissing every single scar he could.
"A very long time" was the response
"Promise me something Spot"
Spot looked into Races eyes
"Promise me that if you feel down or even slightly worse than normal you'll find me? I want to help you. I love you"
"I promise" Spot smiled a genuine smile for the first time in 7 years "I love you too Race"
The two fell asleep tightly wrapped in each-others arms. Race had saved Spot and brought the old Spot Conlon back, this time with a little bit of Compassion and care in his heart. They were free from all worry. And they wouldn't have it any other way.
