He took the boy's shaking hands in his own, lifting Race's chin delicately as he saw the real reason why his hat was pulled so far down his face. Race just sniffled, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes as Spot felt his breath hitch in his throat. Every possible explanation was running through his head as to what could have possibly happened, but Race just sat there, not moving and not saying anything. "Tony, what the hell happened t'ya?" He practically slid down in front of him and he kneeled on the pavement, taking in the boy's injuries. So to see the boy Spot had spent years trying to keep out of harms way, sitting beaten and bloodied on his doorstep, Spot had plenty of pent up worry to let out. In a completely platonic way of course, yep, nothing more than that. He had found a small apartment just on the other side of the bridge and Spot was never more than five minutes away to protect him. After a while, Race got used to getting into scruffs with locals, being from Manhattan and all, but in the few years since they stopped selling, he hadn't had a problem. Sure, they had been best friends since their selling days together when they were kids, but it had been ages since something like this had happened. His exposed arms were covered in bruises and Spot stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw him. His knees were scraped up with holes in his trousers and blood just seeping through the holes. His hat was pulled on tighter than usual, forcing his blonde curls to cover more of his face as he looked down. Race was sitting on the steps of the Brooklyn boy's apartment building fiddling with about half a cigar between his fingers. Stats: Published: Completed: Words: 27,170 Chapters: 5/5 Comments: 18 Kudos: 115 Bookmarks: 6 Hits: 1,992
Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken.
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