them brooklyn boys⚡️sprace

"Untitled Part" my ass

It was cold. Fogged up windows cold. November almost December Cold. That was scary to the Newsies. Katherine had offered a few extra blankets but her father was stubborn, so there was no guarantee. The temperature had dropped at least 30 degrees that night, which meant a lot of them had gone to sleep without blankets and woke up with a mini case of frostbite. On days like these, Jack either had everyone out on the streets or no one. He hated having the risk of any of the younger kids getting sick and not making it.  This particular morning, Jack really was cherry picking newsies, as they were all slowly getting up.
"Les. Ya stayin' here today."
"What?! No."
"Yes."
Davey said, pulling his socks up.
"If you get sick it's on my hands."
"Whatever."
Jack continued to pick certain Newsies, including Race.
"Jack. I'se been off for almost a week now, lemme go-"
"No. If you get hurt again Spot'll-"
A few eyes drew to their conversation.
"Can't have ya gettin' hurt. Plus some needs to be here to watch these kids."
Race nodded, he understood. It's not like he minded watch the littles, he just wanted to help. If he didn't help he'd feel like a lazy bum.
-
The Brooklyn Bridge was 1.134 miles. Too long. How Spot wanted to sprint across it and burst through the doors of the Manhattan lodging house and "hang out" with Race. But he couldn't do that. Because it was cold. So cold. and also he hadn't worked in almost a week taking care of the asshole that he called his. What he would give to close the space between them. Instead, he dragged himself out of bed and out the door of the House. His stomach hurt, oddly, and it actually took a lot to pull himself out of his room. It was worse when the person he was least expecting to see stood outside the Lodging House. His mother.
"Mom..?"
He mumbled, not sure what the response would be. He'd ran away years ago because of the abuse his father had been putting them through. It was the thing he regretted most, leaving his mother for dead. She treated him no better, though. It was a mad cycle and in the end they all hurt each other.
"Sean.."
His real name had been in a vault for god knows how long. The only person who had called Sean in the last 8 years was Race, and that's when he was mad. He went by Spot because of all the horrid memories that came with his birth name. Before he knew it, Spot had been wrapped in a hug, he didn't know why, but he pushed away. Race hugged him, and only Race hugged him.
"The hell ya doin' here? How'd ya find me?"
"I know people who know people."
"Don't explain why ya here."
Spots mother sighed, dusting her dress off.
"Your father has passed."
Spot said nothing. He didn't care. He hated the man. For gods sake, he wished he'd died years ago.
"Come home Sean."
He clenched his fists. His family had never done anything for him. They'd watched him get eaten from the inside and everyone sat in silence, or made it worse.
"No."
"What?"
"I said No!"
He shouted, digging his foot into the ground.
"I has a life here Ma! I has friends! I have my boys, they need me. Ise in charge, for once in my god damn life! You want me to come back with you?! Nobody in our stupid fucking family has ever done anythin' for me! Nothin'!"
both of them were silent for a minute,
"I ain't going with you."
Spot mumbled, shoving past her. There was no question, he needed to see Race. He needed to calm down. And the only way to calm down, was to see Race. That was decided in Spots mind.
"Don't come here again."
-
When Spot randomly showed up at the Lodging House, Race was shocked to say the least. He had a couple kids napping and a few preoccupied with cards, giving him an advantage to talk.
"Sp-"
The shorter boy pulled him in for a kiss, brushing their foreheads together.
"needed that."
Spot mumbled, intertwining their fingers. He explained to Race the whole mother situation, and had him sit down on a bed in the other room. He let out a shaky breath, looking at his hands.
"I'se such a fuckin' idiot."
"You ain't."
"I is, Racer."
He murmured, blinking back tears.
"This whole thing is so overwhelming. I ain't seen her in years!"
He shouted, running his fingers through his hair. Race shushed him calmly, not wanting the other boys to wake. Race turned around, just as Les was entering.
"Hey where-oh. Hi Spot. Whatsa matter?"
"Can I tell?"
Spot nodded flopping back onto the bed. Race explained most of it, not all of it. Les was a pretty fragile person. If someone else started crying, he would cry too. It was weird to the Newsies. Sure, they were practically family, but they were tough. The only scars anyone could usually actually see were the actual scars, from fights and stuff. It's not like a bunch of newsies broke down and started crying often. Was a rare sight. Its unnatural for someone to have so much stress and not break.
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