In Between 'Hattan and Brooklyn || A Sprace Story

Chapter 85 - Sling'll be Slung from Existance

"Bandit's not like that!" Spot defended him, the volume of his voice growing. "Bandit's scared of new people, Jack! He doesn't want them to hate him!" he snapped.

"Or maybe that's what he wants you to think," Jack responded. "Ever think of that? Maybe he is using that as his excuse and is just helping Brooklyn crumble."

"Don't you talk about him like that when he's laying half dead on a bunk in the other room in his distraught boyfriend's arms!" Spot yelled, slamming his hand into the wall next to him. "Bandit has been through hell and back in Brooklyn, Jack Kelly! You have no idea what he's been through or done for Brooklyn, so you can stop accusing that poor boy who hears enough of that from Impulse and his own head!"

The room fell silent.

Tension could've been cut by a blade.

They both hated to admit it, but they were going crazy without Race.

Neither Manhattan nor Brooklyn was the same without him, and their alliance felt as if it was mere seconds from crumbling.

Spot breathed out an angry sigh through his nose, collapsing into the chair behind him.

Jack sat down across from him, breathing heavily. He looked at Spot.

"I'm going insane," Spot whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "Don't think for a second that everything you're saying hasn't made its way through my mind multiple times," he told him quietly. "Race kept me sane and happy, and I feel like my heart cracks more every second he's missing." He inhaled slowly. "I'm trying my hardest to find him."

Jack nodded slightly, frowning. "I know, Spot. I know you are... we all are."

Spot looked up at him. "I just need you to trust me about Bandit," he almost pleaded with him. "That poor kid is so broken from his past; I know he wouldn't have done something like this."

Jack sighed, leaning back in the chair. "Okay. Fine. I'm trusting you on this," he gave in.

Spot nodded. "Thank you." He sighed in relief.

Both boys were silent for a moment, before Jack spoke up. "My next guess is that it's Cloth."

Spot huffed out a laugh. "Yeah, it's definitely Cloth," he responded, "the sole person who holds Brooklyn together."

Jack chuckled. "Yeah. He's like Brooklyn's Specs, and I don't know what I'd do without Specs," he stated.

"Yeah," Spot agreed, "I don't know what I'd do without Cloth... or Rags, for that matter."

Jack nodded.

The door to the room burst open.

Spot and Jack instantly sat up, suddenly alert.

Specs and Rags stood in the doorway, both of them breathing heavily and looking extremely worried.

"Specs?-" Jack started slowly.

Specs cut him off, "I know who the Brooklyn sellout is."

Jack and Spot looked at each other, their eyes wide.

In another room

"He's not in here."

The other three boys turned to look at him.

"What?!" Rags looked around. "He was just in here!"

Spot quickly went to the top of the stairs. "Brooklynites!" he yelled downstairs. "Get your stuff and get into buddies and go find Sling! He's a traitor! Get him and bring him back here!" he instructed them. "Now!"

Jack stared at the bed Sling had been laying in. He clenched his fists.

Specs rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. "We'll get him, Jack," he whispered to him. "He couldn't have gotten that far."

Rags nodded in agreement. "We're going to get Race back, and we'll make all of them pay," he assured him.

Jack looked at the two boys. He nodded.

"You could say, we're going to... sling him from existence when we find him." Rags cracked a smile.

Jack and Specs looked at him, tilting their heads.

"That was so stupid," Specs commented, not caring about how blunt he was being.

Rags pursed his lips. "I know." He hung his head. "It sounded better in my head... kinda."

Specs smiled slightly, a bit amused. He shook his head.

1190 Words
It took me a solid three minutes to figure out that "allie-hood"/"alli-hood" wasn't a word and I wasn't just spelling it wrong. Alliance is the word I was looking for lol.
#YayDyslexia