them brooklyn boys⚡️sprace

Stab Spot in the heart why don't ya?

Race stood in the hall, staring at Jack. Had Jack actually agreed to this? Had Spot actually agreed to this? It seemed fishy to Race.
"Why? Why did you agree to this?"
Jack sighed, shaking his head.
"I—I thought it might helps. With winter approachin'. It's not like wese making tons of money to spends on food and medicine!"
Race, in complete and utter shock, was at a loss for words. It may not seem like a big deal to someone who wasn't a Newsie, but if stuff happened between the burrows it could corrupt everything more than it already was. Race thought back to when he had just joined the Newsies. And the Turf Wars. There could not be another one of those approaching.
"It's only been 3 months since the strike ended. Three! Now wese knee deep in this."
Race felt like a pesky parent, that was Jacks job.
"Jack. I'm not the leader. But my advice is to tell everyone what's happenin'. Get outta dis whiles you still can."
Race looked around and bit his lip. Jack could tell he was making a decision.
"And. Ise will go with ya to Brooklyn."
He sighed, thinking about the promise he'd made yesterday to not go back for the rest of the month. Screw that.
-
The two arrived around ten, it took around 3 hours but Race was walking slower than usual. Contemplating his choice to go to Brooklyn once again. The same newsies as the past two days.
"Race? 'Again? Ya brought Jack this time?"
Spot popped up out of nowhere, shoving through the boys, he then shooed them off and waited till they left.
"Well. Youse can't get enough of me Race, eh?"
Race rolled his and felt a little tingle when they came back down.
"Ha. You wish Spotty. Just came with Jack to work out the details of the bet."
He said, widening his eyes and gesturing with his head a little.
Spot smiled. Big. Obviously, a sarcastic one. He took the two boys by their shoulders and dragged them across the rest of the bridge, down to the the docks.
"You told 'im! You told 'im you knows?!?! Did I not ask for youse to specifically not do that?"
Race gulped. He hated it when Spot was angry. The two had only actually physically fought once and they both had black eyes for a week and a half.
"was kinda my fault."
Jack admitted holding up his hands.
"No it wasn't"
Race said, slapping him on the arm, not wanting him to get in trouble.
"Yes it was"
"No"
"Yes"
"No"
"Yes"
"No"
"Ye-"
"ALRIGHT I DONT CARE WHOS FAULT IT IS!!!"
Spot said, a little too loud, drawing the attention of nearby strangers. He lowered his voice.
"Listen. There's mores to this then youse think."
Race groaned.
"O' course there is. Does it, by any chances, include men dressed in complete black?"
Jack and Spot looked over at him at the same time.
"What?"
They said in unison. Race rolled his eyes again.
"I guess it's my times to sha'. Les, he woke me up last night. Brought me to the window at the end of the hall. 'Dere were two men. Soaked in black. 'Ead ta toe. I was tired, so I says to him we can check it out in da mornin' if dere was any evidence of em."
He shrugged.
"Forgot to check. They could all be dead."
"RACE!"
Jack yelled. Race could practically see the stress of multiple things piling up on top of him.
"Sorry, sorry."
Race dug his feet into the ground.
The three stood in a circle for a few minutes of silence.
"Now what?"
Spot said, he actually seemed worried.
"We still gotta sell papes."
Race said holding them up lazily.
"You guys can stay ovah 'ere if you wants. I knows the walk back to Manhattans a lil fa'."
Race and Spot looked at each other, then at the big, long bridge that stretched all the way back to their Lodging Home.
"I'll stay."
Race said, shrugging.
"I'm gonna go back."
Jack said gesturing at the bridge.
"Then Ise goin' too."
Race said, spinning around. Spot wanted to intervene, he wanted Race to stay in Brooklyn with him. He kind of just stood there and shuffled though.
"You care Spot?"
"Nah."
The two nodded, waved and left. Leaving Spot down at the docks. Spot hated it. He hated it. One day, he wanted Race to choose him over Jack. And the worst part is, he was even about to. He could've. And Spot could've done something. Grabbed his wrist and asked him to stay. Though touching Race made him blush uncontrollably. He watched the two step up the path to the bridge, and in a moment of desperation, he ran after them. No, sprinted.
He caught up to them and bent down, panting for a second.
He then pulled something that scrunched up in a ball out of his pocket, and handed it to Race.
"It's ya hat. Youse forgots it yesterday."
"Oh! Thanks"
Race said, smiling at him and adjusting it onto his head. Spot smiled back. And Jack stood awkwardly.
"Okay. Well, see ya later."
Spot said waving, and hopping off. Jack and Race continued to walk.
"Did you just make Spot Conlon smile?"
Race smirked to himself. If he was correct, he had made Spot Conlon smile. King Of Brooklyn. Feared by all.
"I think I might've."

————————————