This Ain't Just Newsies No More ~ Sprace & Javid

32 | More To It | Spot

"That's ENOUGH!" Spot shouts. He moves across the room, about to get right in Oscar's face. He knows exactly what word he was about to hear come out of that filthy mouth. "I'm gonna soak you both right now. Come 'ere, you little-"

Before he can go any closer, or say any colorful language of his own, a hand grabs him, pulling him back.

"It ain't our fight," is murmured in his ear. "They got the aces."

The aces. Ah, yes. They have the appeal of the people higher up. Because the Delanceys are scabs. They dress nice. They have money in their pocket. It's their word against four ragged teenagers barely making a living as it is. If they get beaten up, or worse, they'll never answer to their crimes of kidnapping; because no one will believe that it had happened in the first place. Even if there were those who believed it, the people higher up would turn and look the other way. So, yes. They have the aces.

Reluctantly, Spot holds back. There's a fire in him, though. The Delanceys will pay. It doesn't matter when. The sooner the better, yes. But Spot knows how to be patient. Breathe, he tells himself. Breathe, and wait. It's only a matter of time now. Justice will not be denied.

Oscar seems to see what inner struggle went on through Spot's head. He's clearly enjoying it. Morris ... it's really unclear to tell if he even thinks at all.

"That still don't explain it all, Oscar," Jack counters. "Yeah, yeah, you don't like us. You want the world to know we ain't normal. It's still unclear. Why do all this? Why kidnap David and Race? Didya need us to find 'em? Or were ya gonna lock 'em up forever? Don't even think for one moment that we wouldn't beat you and your brother here in a fight. But I need answers first. No one goes through this much hardship without somethin' big."

"You're smart, Cowboy," Oscar responds. "I can see why you were the leader."

"What do you mean you were? Don't you mean you are?" David counters.

Spot tries to stop a tug of a smile. The Walkin' Mouth.

"Well, he won't be the leader for long if his secret gets out." Oscar crosses his arms.

Jack copies him. "So you want somethin' from us, or else the secret gets out. So what is it?"

"We wanted you to suffer, Cowboy."

That wasn't Oscar speaking.

Nor Morris.

Nor Spot or Jack or David or Race--obviously, but still.

There's a person in the doorway.

Smirking, Oscar and Morris move aside to let this third person enter the doorway and into the light for everyone to see the sneering face.

Weasel.

Jack, David, and Race's faces go through immediate reactions. Spot remembers briefly seeing this man when all the office people who worked for Pulitzer left the building of The World on the last day of the strike. Of course, that was all a blur.

Jack once again clenches his fist. "Shoulda known you would have a hand in this, Weasel."

"It hurts, don't it, Cowboy?" Weasel 'sweet-talks' him. "Seein' someone ya love in such dire circumstances, huh?"

"What do you want in this?" Jack fires back, not loudly, but not without intensity in his words. "What could you possibly gain from something like this?"

"I get to see your downfall!" Weasel exclaims. "The great Jack Kelly, finally broken. Now, I thought you were gone when you were workin' specifically for Pulitzer, but no, you're still here. Have these two told you their plans? Huh? Have they told you just how brilliant all of their plan is?"