- Chapter 2 - The 'Fallen Angel' in Between Manhattan and Brooklyn -
No Warnings
Third Person POV
Race walks to the Brooklyn entrance.
Rock looks up at him. "Hey, Racer." He greets with a small smirk.
"Calm yourself." Race rolls his eyes. "I'm not here with a message for Spot." He tells Rock.
"Then, why are you here?" Rock asks, an eyebrow raised.
"A message from Specs and Jack, and technically me as well, to Skittery and from Lucky to Tumbler." Race explains.
"And you say you aren't the messenger of Manhattan." Switch mutters with a scoff.
Race rolls his eyes. "I'm not." He responds. "We don't have a messenger. I just do it because it's my job as Jack's second." He reminds them.
He said that every time.
"You don't do it when you're hurt." Catch, another Brooklyn Newsie, points out. "Or, you shouldn't." He mutters.
"That doesn't happen too often." Race responds, turning to face him as he lied through his teeth.
The three boys start laughing.
"Really?" Race nods. "Then, show us your most recent injury." Catch tells Race.
Race stares at him. "Uh, no." He responds stubbornly.
Catch smirks at the challenge. "Then, you must be lying and have a new injury, so I'll go get Cloth and Spot." He tells Race, turning to walk away.
"No!" Race shouts, before immediately mentally facepalming. "I'll show you," he mutters in annoyance.
Catch turns back around, his smirk only growing.
Race rolls his eyes at the older Brooklyn boy, pulling up his flannel sleeve to reveal a newly bandaged bruise.
Rock shoots Race a smirk as well.
Race rolls his eyes. "I didn't come here to get attacked." He mutters.
"Racer!" Someone exclaims, wrapping their arms around him from behind.
"Hi," Race breathes out, getting squished. "DD."
DD chuckles, putting him down.
Race catches his breath, having almost just gotten squeezed to death.
Rock and Switch let Race through.
Race walks down the dock to where Spot's perch was.
Thankfully for him, Spot wasn't there.
"Well," Ace, Spot's Second, starts with a smirk. "If it ain't the Fallen Angel of Manhattan and Brooklyn." He states.
Race rolls his eyes.
They spit-shake.
"How are you doing, Racer?" Ace asks him.
"Fine." Race answers nonchalantly. "You?" He asks.
Ace steals a look at Smokes, before smiling. "Just swell." He answers, turning back to Race.
Race smirks a bit to himself.
"Now..." Race starts, remembering why he came here. He cups his hands out his mouth, turning to face the water. "Skittles!" He shouts.
"Dear God..." he heard Skittery mumble. "It's a Manhattan Newsie."
"Newsies hate me today." Race mutters, his hands dropping to his side.
Ace chuckles.
Race walks over to Skittery, who's arms rested on the dock, holding him up as he floated in the water, Waves next to him.
"Dear God..." Skittery mumbles when he sees him. "It's the 'Hattan/Brooklyn Fallen Angel."
Race splashes him with water. "Quit calling me that." He tells him, his statement being more of a 'I dare you to do it again' statement, even though he couldn't do anything and he knew they wouldn't stop.
Skittery rolls his eyes.
He wasn't going to splash Race back for the reason that Race didn't have extra clothes to change into.
"Racetrack," a stern voice starts from behind him.
Race mentally curses his luck, but he really should've known he would've seen Spot, especially since he was on his mainland turf.
"Are you soaking my boys?" Spot questions, holding back something between a snicker and a chuckle.
A few of the boys around them laugh.
"Evening, King." Race greets, turning around to face him.
Spot chuckles. "That was my brother- the past leader." He reminds Race.
Race rolls his eyes. "Can you tell everyone to stop calling me the 'Manhattan/Brooklyn Fallen Angel'?" He asks.
Spot smirks. "Why? You are technically it." He reminds Race. "The Manhattan boys are the Angels, Brooklyn are Devils. I'm sure you know of them because of your stories." He comments.
Race rolls his eyes.
Well, I've figured out that Spot's fine with the title.
He turns to face Skittery. "Lucky misses Tumbler." Race informs Skittery. "Jack said I could ask if they could meet up within two days for him." He informs him.
Skittery looks to Spot.
"That's my leader's choice." Skittery tells Race, a smirk starting on his lips. "You'll have to talk to him about that." He shoots Race a smug and cheeky smirk.
Race glares at Skittery, not caring if anyone else saw. I might kill you...
"You know," Race starts. "If Tumbler really wants to see Lucky, he can come to 'Hattan." He decides, turning to walk away.
"But Lucky will be so sad if you don't ask Spot." Waves taunts, smirking as well.
Skittery high-fives his boyfriend under the water.
Race turns back to face him. "Why are you so insistent that I talk to Spot?" He asks. "I have talked to him." He shrugs. "Hi, Spot." Race waves, turning to face Spot for .2 seconds before turning back to the Newsies in the water.
Spot chuckles, waving back at him.
"I don't understand anyone." Race mutters, starting to walk off.
"You understand Lucky." Skittery responds with a smirk still present on his face.
Race bends down next to him, still on the dock, and splashes water on him again.
Skittery rolls his eyes, not at all fazed by this.
He was actually kinda grateful that Race was kind enough to not splash his eyes.
Spot picks Race up from behind.
"Spot..." Race warns, turning his head and shooting him a half hearted glare.
Spot smirks at him as if to say 'challenge accepted'.
Spot throws the smaller boy into the water.
"Spot Conlon!-" Race was cut off when he hit the water.
The boys around them start laughing.
Race comes up in the water, drenched and glaring at Spot.
Spot just smirks, waving innocently at him.
Race swims to the side and hoists himself out of the water. "I hate you all so much." He mutters, squeezing the water out of his shirt, sitting on the dock with his legs over the edge.
Spot snickers a bit.
"You couldn't have warned me?" Race asks Spot, staring up at him. "Like maybe 'hey, Race. Take off your flannel, undershirt, shoes, and socks so they don't get wet because you don't have a different change of clothes in a Brooklyn'!" He exclaims.
Spot chuckles softly. "I can give you some clothes to change into, Race." He responds nonchalantly, crossing his arms.
"No, no." Race declines, standing up. "I'd really rather not."
His face was a bit red.
"If Tumbler wants to see Lucky, he can come tomorrow." Race states, brushing his soaked hair out of his face. "I'm done in any borough that isn't my home turf today." He tells them.
"You seem to not like us." Rags points out, smirking at Race as he leaned against a crate in front of him, also blocking Race's path. "You're half Brooklyn, why don't you just stay here?" He asks.
"Cause my home's in 'Hattan." Race responds, squeezing the water out of his hat. "I've never stayed in Brooklyn, the boys will be worried, I tell a story to Lucky every night to help him sleep, he usually sleeps with me," he lists. "and if I stay here any longer, more Brooklyn boys are going to team on me." He comments.
"That's a long list of reasons." Cloth comments. "Where's the 'Pro' side of your list?" He questions.
"There isn't one." Race answers bluntly, securing his hat on his head.
"Ouch." Red walks over. "That hurt half of my heart, Racer." He dramatizes, his hands clutching the area of his chest where his heart would be. "The half right here," he points to a part of his chest.
The Brooklyn boys chuckle.
Race stares at him. "I'm so going to regrets asking this," he starts, muttering. "What happened to the other half?" He asks.
Red smirks. "It's in the hands of one of your Manhattan brothers now." He responds.
Spot was very amused by this whole conversation.
Race just rolls his eyes.
Before Race could speak, he heard someone running up to him.
"Race!" He heard a high pitched voice exclaim as they clung to his leg.
The Brooklyn boys laugh.
"I'd consider that a Pro." Cloth comments with a knowing smile/smirk.
Race ignores him, picking Tumbler up and resting him on his hip. "Hey." He smiles at the little. "Just the boy I was talking about."
Tumbler's eyes lit up. "Really?" He asks.
"Yeah." Race nods his head, smiling. "What have you been up to?" He asks.
Tumbler grins at him. "I've had so much fun! Sling and Shot (Hotshot) are teaching me how to use a slingshot!" He tells Race excitedly, waving his hands around.
He seemed not to care that Race was soaking wet.
Race smiles.
"How has Lucky been?" Tumbler asks quickly. "I've been dreaming about Super Lucky for so long. I need to know how the story continues!" He exclaims, dramatically shaking Race's shoulders.
Race chuckles. "Don't worry. We haven't continued the story without you and Lucky's good." He responds. "I was actually asking Skittery when you could see Lucky cause he misses you." He informs him.
Tumbler's eyes light up again.
His head looks at his brother.
Skittery nods.
Tumbler looks back at Race. "Can I come tonight?" He asks excitedly.
Race pretends to think for a moment. "Uh- I don't know." He grins at Tumbler. "Only if you promise to be on your best Brooklyn behavior!"
Spot chuckles a bit. Brooklyn behavior. That's cute.
He felt his face flush and his eyes widen a bit at the thought.
Tumbler nods vigorously. "I promise! I'm a good Brooklynite!" He tells Race.
Race chuckles a bit. "Okay. Then, you can come to Manhattan for the night." He responds.
Tumbler grins, throwing his arms around Race's neck to hug him.
Race makes eye contact with Skittery.
"Bed by eleven." Skittery tells him. "No sharp-" he starts to continue.
"Objects/weapons. Must always be watched by at least two Newsies." Race continues, listing off stuff. "Nothing that will scare him. Has to sleep on a top bunk with a Newsie, preferably me. Sells with me. We have to come see you, first thing, when he's back home in Brooklyn tomorrow." He shoots Skittery a look.
Waves shoots Skittery a smirk, because of the conversation they had had earlier.
Race chuckles to himself. "Dude, even Jack wasn't that protective with me when I spent the night in the Bronx once when I was ten." He comments.
Skittery chuckles, putting his hands up like he was surrendering. "I just ca-" he starts.
"Care about him." Race finishes, cutting him off again. "I know. We do too."
Skittery chuckles. "Thanks, Racer."
Race nods.
Race starts walking off, when Tumbler stops him.
Tumbler makes a gesture for Race to put him down, so he does.
Tumbler runs back over to Skittery, hugging him tightly.
He then runs back over to Race, climbing on his back.
They start heading off again.
"Racetrack!" Spot shouts. "Didn't I tell you I wanted you to change?!" He questions, knowing the answer.
Race starts running. "Night, Brookies!" He shouts in response.
Spot sighs deeply as some of the Brooklynites there laugh.
"Why is my leader shouting your name?" Rock asks when he sees Race and Tumbler.
"And I didn't realize Tumbler was going to Manhattan tonight." DD adds, ruffling Tumbler's hair.
Tumbler grins. "I'm going to see Lucky Charms!" He exclaims.
DD smiles.
'Lucky Charms' was Tumbler's silly nickname for Lucky.
Tumbler's was 'Tumbling Tricks'.
"Take a wild guess." Race tells Rock, his eyes flicking down to his wet clothes.
Rock chuckles. "Fair enough." He responds.
He goes to stop Race from leaving, trying to grab his wrist, but Race starts running off again, Tumbler on his back, waving to the Brooklynites at the entrance.
DD chuckles, waving back to Tumbler, who he saw grin.
Rock sighs.
"You can't always win with him." Catch tells him, smoking a cigar as he leaned against a crate.
Rock sighs. "I know, but I was hoping he'd cooperate so that Spot would be proud of us." He mutters.
He was the youngest guard, just a bit older than Race.
Switch pats his back. "He's always proud of us." He sends the younger boy a reassuring smile. "I can have him remind you of that."
Rock shakes his head, still staring in the direction Race and Tumbler had ran off in.
Switch frowns slightly.
2144 Words
I really want to post more than two chapters today lol, but I don't like odd numbers, so it would have to be four and the strike doesn't start until chapter six.
Yes? No? No opinion?