Return to New York

Infamous

The ship docked. While men were unloading boxes and crates, I made my escape. Shouting was heard from behind me. I made a mad dash into the streets, taking a few corners and then resting in the ally way. I braced myself on the wall with my right and bent over, out of breath.

I looked around me. It was about mid morning and I was in the streets of Brooklyn. Spot was not the first person I wanted to see, but he might be the toughest. Better get it over with now.

I made my way towards the Brooklyn newsie docks, which was quite a ways away. I saw a few newsies on my way there, some of them recognized me and waved a hello.
"Extra extra! Serial killer now targets Manhattan's Newsies!"

My head snapped to the right.
"Extra Extra!"
Spot.

I ran across the street, fishing a quarter out of my pocket. I nearly collided with spot coming to a stop. "What the hell do-" a long pause. I slapped the quarter in his hand and snatched the paper out of the other, burying my face into the front page. I unfolded the paper and read the headline. Spot had to be lying. He had to be.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Spot asked. He actually asked that multiple times but all I could hear was the vibrations of his voice, not what he was actually saying. I stared at the picture on the front page and tears welled up into my eyes as I read the sub-lines and actual article.

The newspaper was removed quickly from in front of my face. I looked up at Spot, he had taken the paper. I'm sure my face read pure fear and terror, because his once hard face softened.
"It's not true." I whispered. Spot sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"You betta come with me."

"No." I said defiantly. "I need to go to manhattan. Where's jack? Is he still there?"
"Doll, just slow down,"
"Don't call me that!" I shouted at him. After that he just grabbed my wrist and started dragging me down the street. My protests did nothing to stop this determined man on a mission.

We reached an abandoned building. He opened the door and pushed me inside.
"Spot what the hell!"
"Will you just listen ta me for a second? Shut ya trap!"

I bit my tongue and looked down at the ground. My feet shuffled in place slightly and I could hear spot sigh. 
"A lot has happened since you left. Like this." He gestures to the paper.
"How long?" I questioned.
"Its been over a span of three months. They started in Brooklyn."
My head snapped up at Spot but his eyes were elsewhere. Some fixed location off in the distance.

"They took out a couple of my boys. Young one and old one. Then they hit queens."
"How many people have they killed?" I Asked softly, feeling deep pain for Spot, but also wanting to get back to Manhattan. I still needed to see if that name on the paper was actually there or if I was dreaming.

"Four now." He said quietly. There was a long awkward pause between us. I felt the guilt build up inside of me. I had left without another word. I left everybody behind for my own desire, I didn't realize how much I missed the people here until I forced myself to come back.
"Spot I'm sorry-" I began, but I was cut off.

"I don't wanna hear nothin about you leavin'. Ive kept you here long enough now go find Jack." He snapped immediately. I could tell there was pain in his voice, which made me feel even worse. He turned towards a window and leans into it.

"Spot I'm serious," I tried to begin.
"So am I. Now go."

Without another word I turned began to walk out the door.
"Oh y/n, your paper."
I stopped in the doorway and turned around to spot. I forced myself to smile. "Keep it. And the quarter."

Before I could give him time to react, I was out the door, making my way as quickly as I could to Manhattan.

•••

I had made it to the Lodging House. Something stopped me from opening the door for a second. Fear? regret? I couldn't tell you which. Then I remembered the headline that I heard. Surly if it was true they wouldn't be selling today. And if they were I would wait for them to come home. Their home. My home.

I decided I just needed to barge in. Make a grand entrance and get it over with. I regretted that decision.
I grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open with a slam on the wall of the other side. Just as I predicted. they were all here. Everyone looked at me standing in the doorway. A few looked dumbfounded, others seemed to light up slightly.

Skittery, who was to the right of Jack, gently tapped his shoulder. Jack looked at him and noticed him point backwards.
Jack's eyes met mine, and I could hardly read them. He looked shocked, relieved, and many other emotions I couldn't pinpoint.
And then I looked down, the one motion that would ruin my life forever. Clutched tightly in Jack's hands, was Racetrack's hat.

I could practically feel my heart break, tears already welling up in my eyes.
"So it's true?" I said, finally breaking the long silence, my voice cracking as I tried to choke back the lump in my throat.

Jack stood up. "Y/n," Jack paused to wipe his nose. "what are you doing here?"
"He's really dead?" My voice trembled, tears falling down from my eyes.

It seemed as though nobody knew what to say. They probably already had a day to process it.
Jack quickly came over to me and wrapped his arms around me protectively and hustled me up the stairs to my old room.

I can say with 100% certainty that I've only seen Jack cry one other time, and what was when he told me our brother Michael had died.
Tears streamed down my face as Jack pushed me into the room and locked the door behind us. "It's not true. Jack it's not true, please! Tell me I'm dreaming." I begged, now sobbing.

A few tears fell from Jacks eyes and his voice cracked. "I'm sorry.. he didn't suffer long."

"No!" I yelled falling back into my bed. "No no no." I repeated, having to heave my breaths in order to cry properly. Jack sat next to me and wrapped his arms around me.
"Y/n I'm so sorry.."

Jack gently placed his hat in my lap. I picked it up and held it close to my chest. It smelled of cigar smoke and dust from the tracks. Tears kept falling as I kept crying. Jack rubbed my back, every now and again I would hear him sniffle.
"It's hit us all hard. He was the last person we expected to be next. But you know how independent he is, and how he always comes home from the tracks late, he was in the wrong place at the wrong time." Saying the last part of the sentence made jack's voice crack.

I wiped my face and looked up at Jack.
"Can I keep this?" I gestured by raising the hat in my hands up slightly. "Please?" I whispered. Jack nodded. "Anything. You can keep anything of his you want Kid."

I sighed and clutched the hat to my chest and leaned my head on Jack's shoulder. I closed my eyes, it wasn't until I had cried for 30 minutes how tired I actually was. The time difference in England and New York was very different.

"Can I just go to sleep?" I asked.
Jack nodded. "Of course. And hey, I'm glad you came back. We's missed you."
I nodded, laying down in my bed, Racetracks hat still clutched in my fists, I tucked it under my head and squeezed my eyes shut tightly. Jack drew the covers over me and rested his hand on my head.

"I love you y/n, I promise we won't lose each other. I promise." Jack planted a gently kiss on my forehead and then went back to the door. I heard it creak open and then shut. Muffled voices sounded downstairs while I drifted into an unsteady darkness.