I know that so far I've put the authors notes at the end of each chapter, but this a little warning for the rest of the book. Despite the lighthearted first chapter, this isn't going to be a super happy, fun book. It wasn't intended to be, but it can't just start out bad. It also may seem like it moves quickly, I'm trying to avoid that but I'm not perfect, so if any of that bothers you, you don't have to keep reading. I'll be EXTREMELY sorry to see you go, but do whatever you like. This book might get a little sad and deal with the imperfections of the characters, but there will still be happy stuff, I promise!!! Anyway, I thought that I'd warn you guys now, just in case!

***

Buttons stood, staring at the shack, debating whether or not it was worth it to go in. After leaving to live in the lodging house he'd never expected to come back again. His hands shook, and for a minute he thought about turning around and heading back to the lodge, but not wanting to have made the dangerous trip out to Hell's Kitchen for nothing, he took a deep breath and crossed the empty lot to the small shanty he'd grown up in.

He slowly pushed open the door, and poked his head inside. It was dark and Buttons nearly gagged, his eyes watering, at the overwhelming smell of alcohol, and other things that he chose not to think about.

As he moved further into the room he caught sight of the person he'd come to see. The man was laying on the dirt-caked floor and he slowly sat up. He blinked groggily and drew a hand across his grimy, unshaven face before looking up at Buttons.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" The man growled.

Buttons slowly stepped closer to him, but left the door open in case he needed a quick escape. Years of living here had taught him that was the only chance out that he'd get if his father lost his temper.

"Father? It's-it's me," Buttons spoke shakily. It'd been almost four years since he had seen his father and wasn't sure what the man would say to his child who had 'abandoned' him.

His father squinted, trying to get a better look at him. "Ben-Benjamin? You're Benjamin."

"Yes, it's Benjamin."

"What are you doing here?" The older man asked as he struggled to his feet and stumbled toward his youngest son.

"I came to see you." Buttons flinched as his father raised a hand toward his face, but the man didn't hit him. Instead he rested it on Buttons' cheek, drawing his son's face closer to his.

"You're a good boy, Benjamin," he said. Buttons' nose scrunched up in disgust at the heavy scent of alcohol that lingered on his father's breath. "You always were a good boy. You-you were my favorite. Did you know that your brothers don't ever come visit me? No, they don't care about me, but you do."

Buttons tensed as his father hugged him. "I'm so glad you've come back to live with me." At that Buttons pulled away from the man, taking a quick step back. "What's wrong?"

"That's not what I came for." Buttons spoke cautiously. Within minutes of being in his old home he had gone from being confident and strong, to being the scared young boy who had run away four years ago.

"Of course it is. You've come to help your father, and what a good boy you are for helping him." His father grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the rickety table that looked ready to fall apart. "Sit, sit down!"

"No, I'm not staying very long."

"Where are you going? It's going to be time for dinner soon. Maybe you can take me somewhere nice to eat."

"You don't understand! I'm not goin' to live here!" Buttons exclaimed. "I'm never goin' to live here."

"But Benny-"

"Don't call me that, you don't get to call me that!"

That was when Buttons witnessed the change that he'd seen often growing up. His father's eyes darkened and a scowl tore across his face.

"Why, you're too good for me now? You think just because you've got a job, that you're better than me? I'll have you know that I raised you, boy! You owe me your life, and if you think you can just walk out again you've got another thing comin'!"

Buttons backed slowly towards the door, his childhood technique still working as well as it used to.

"Where do you think you're going? Get over here! You've got money with you! I'm your father, and look at me! This is what you've done to me! Give me the money now!" He growled, lunging forward. Buttons ducked out of the way and almost turned to run out the door, but caught himself. He wasn't going to leave this place the same way he had at twelve. He was going to leave in a way that he would be proud of.

Buttons turned to his father and swung his fist at the man's face, feeling satisfied as he heard a crunch when his fist connected with the man's nose.

"That's for everything you did to us growin' up." Buttons turned and walked out of the shack, his head held high.

"Wait! Benjamin! I didn't mean none of that!" His father cried. "Come back!"

Buttons ignored him and kept walking.

***

Race stood on the Brooklyn Bridge, looking out over the water as he held his cigar lightly between his fingers. His eyes scanned the sky as he processed what Buttons had told them after returning from the visit to his father.

"I went back," Buttons said as soon as he stepped through the door to the lodge.

"Back where?" Finch asked.

"Back to see my father."

"So stupid," Race muttered. Buttons had come back extremely shaken up, his face white, but he'd also had an air of confidence around him that hadn't been there that morning. He'd said that he'd never felt happier, never been more relieved than he was after he'd stood up to the man who'd made his life hell.

That didn't make it worth it. He'd also come back bitter, old wounds reopened as his father's real intentions were shown.

"It was strange, he was huggin' me and sayin' how I was his favorite son...I didn't know what to do. But it was nice. For a minute, I forgot everything he did and I thought maybe he was different." Buttons chuckled and shook his head. "Don't know why I thought he'd change. The whole place reeked of alcohol. He said he wanted me to stay...He don't care if I'm there or not! He just cares about the money that I'd be bringing home!"

Race also let out a bitter laugh as he remembered what Buttons had said. Race knew all about that...

He closed his eyes, brushing off the thought. Race turned his attention back to the water and the cigar in his hand. He had been there for nearly an hour when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.

It was a little too late for it to be something innocent and, knowing that, Race spun around, his arms raised in defense.

"A bit jumpy, ain't we Higgins." Spot stood next to Race wearing a small smirk.

"You knows better than to sneak up on someone Conlon." Race spoke as he slowly relaxed again. "What are you doin' here anyway?"

"I was here lookin' for you."

"How'd you know Ise was here?"

"I gots birds all over this city, you know that," Spot said, his arms crossed across his chest. "One of 'em told me that youse was standin' on the edge of a bridge for a suspicious amount o' time. Want to tell me about that?"

"It's nothing," Race shrugged. "I was just thinkin'."

"Bout what?" Spot also leaned against the rail of the bridge, his arm brushing the sleeve of Race's shirt.

"This 'n that."

"Higgins, I'm serious. What's so important that you come out here and think for an hour or two?"

"It ain't even important. I was just thinkin' bout my folks."

Spot couldn't quite hide his surprise at the statement. He turned to Race, eyebrows raised. "Why was you thinkin' about them?"

"One of the boys saw his old man today. It just got me thinkin' about my own. I know, it's stupid." Race shook his head and turned away from Spot.

"You're right. It is stupid. Neither of us needs folks. All folks do is ruin everything, right?"

Race gave a small nod. "Davey never does anything fun, cause his parents wouldn't let him."

"Mothers and fathers just ruin everything Race," Spot said angrily.

"Youse right. They ain't ever got anything important to say, all they do is boss and tell ya all the ways you're messin' up."

"That's the spirit. In celebration, I say we goes somewhere that someone with folks would never be allowed in." Race smirked at the suggestion.

"How about Miss Medda's? Saturdays are always the best nights."

"Why do you think that?" Spot asked as he and Race began heading down the bridge toward Medda's theater.

"Cause it's the furthest time since anyone's been to church, and they needs to get all their final sins out tonight 'fore church in the mornin'. That's what Jojo said at least, and he was raised by nuns, so he would know."

"Jojo don't know much 'bout nothin' Higgins. Now hurry up so we don't miss anything. I'm only goin' to see Medda."

"Don't everyone go to see Medda? Who else would ya go for... maybe the Beauties. You ever seen 'em Spot?"

Spot shrugged, "Maybe. Which ones are they?"

"Oh, you'll know 'em when you see 'em," Race sighed. "They looks real nice Spot, real nice."

"I ain't interested Higgins."

"You ain't interested yet."

***

"How much does it cost to get in?" Spot shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out some coins as they arrived at the front of Medda's theater. Race scoffed, brushing past Spot and heading along the side of the building.

"We ain't payin'. We just goes in the back and watch from the side. Sometimes if there's room Medda gives us seats, but it'll be full tonight."

Spot watched warily as Race walked up to the back door and swung it open. "Are ya comin' or what?"

Spot stepped through the door, Race close behind him. He squinted in the dim light, taking in all the people who were there. Men rushed around doing their jobs, though Spot didn't care what that was. 

"When's Medda on?" Spot asked glancing behind him. Race was no longer there, but a quick scan of the room showed that he hadn't gone far.

Race stood in a corner speaking to two red haired women, both wearing pink costumes, that revealed quite a bit. Spot pushed past the men in his way, as he headed to the corner Race occupied.

"Spot! There you are! I was lookin' all over for you!" Race exclaimed as Spot appeared next to him.

"Yeah, I'm sure you was," Spot drawled.

Race's face tinged pink, but his grin didn't falter as he turned back to the women. "Ladies, this is my friend Spot Conlon. Spot, the amazin' Bowery Beauties."

"It's nice to meet you," one of them twittered.

"A pleasure," the other agreed, batting her eyelashes.

"Likewise," Spot spoke, looking over the girls. They were beautiful, as Race had said, and their legs were on full display in the costumes that they wore, which Spot certainly didn't mind. From the way Race was looking at them, he didn't mind either.

The girls giggled and flirted with the blond boy, but if he stepped too close, they immediately drew back. Spot chuckled as he watched, Race didn't stand a chance with either of them. He was just something amusing as they waited for their number.

Even with that knowledge, Spot waited for a couple of minutes before drawing Race back into reality. "Higgins, I want to see some of the show."

Race groaned, but reluctantly left, only after saying that he'd come back in a week or two. The girls waved, each blowing a kiss at him as he led Spot over to the wings.

"Why'd ya have to call me over? Couldn't ya tell I was enjoyin' myself?"

"You was enjoyin' yaself a little too much. I think youse still droolin'."

"Youse just jealous that youse ain't got the charm," Race bragged, puffing his chest and smirking down at Spot.

"Ise Spot Conlon. I got no use for charm, cause I got fists," Spot argued.

"Shhhhh!"

The boys glanced behind them. Medda stood there, arms folded and a heavy frown on her face.

"Hi Medda! Don't you look lovely today!"

"That ain't gonna work Race, though it's very much appreciated," Medda replied with a small smile.

"It was worth a shot," he shrugged before pulling Spot forward. "Miss Medda, you remember Spot, don't ya?"

"Of course I do. How are you doin' honey?" Medda asked, pulling Spot closer to her.

"I'm fine," he grumbled.

"Don't worry 'bout him Miss Medda. Spot here is just afraid of beautiful women, such as yaself."

Medda laughed and Spot shoved Race's shoulder, causing the boy to stumble.

"No need to get violent," Race said as he stuffed his hands in his vest pockets. "I was just tryin' to help ya."

"Either way, you boys are welcome to stay all night. We'll try not to scare you off," Medda said, sending Spot a wink. He gave her a small smile and a nod as she walked away.

"See Spot? We're good for the night. I don't have any plans, so I'm gonna be here for awhile. What about you?"

"I don't got anywhere to be. I figure I'll stick around, make sure you do nothin' stupid."

"That don't sound like fun," Race whined as he turned to watch the men who had started their act. 

"Maybe later we can go out and get a drink or somethin'. That sound better?" Spot suggested.

A grin spread across Race's face as he turned back to face Spot again. "Now you're talkin' Spotty Boy."

"Don't call me that."

***

Race stumbled up the lodging house steps, hand wrapped tightly around the railing. He pushed the door open slowly, still logical enough to try to keep quiet. Race silently slipped inside and shut the door, wincing as it clicked.

"What have you been up to?"

Race looked over to the table, empty except for Jojo who sat at the end, shuffling a deck of cards.

"You didn't need to...to wait up for me Jo," Race spoke slowly. Jojo set down the deck of cards and glanced up.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Jojo stood up and crossed over to Race, his nose scrunching in distaste as he drew nearer.

"Have you been out drinkin'?" He asked incredulously.

"Just-just a little bit, but I ain't drunk!" Race insisted, his face flushed.

"Sure you ain't. You know Jack don't like it when we drinks too much, and he'll be 'specially mad 'cause Buttons might get upset! I don't know why-"

"Save the lecture Jo! I was stupid, I know. Nothin' to change it now. Me and Spot was just havin' a bit of fun."

"Just get to bed, Race."

"G'night," Race murmured as he passed Jojo, who yawned and followed him up the stairs, keeping a hand on Race's side in case he fell.

The boys made it to their bunk and Race grabbed onto the top bed, ready to pull himself up, but Jojo stopped him.

"I'll take top bunk tonight, I don't think youse can get to the top without killin' yaself."

Race, surprisingly, didn't argue. He quietly sunk onto the bottom bed, slipping his shoes off quickly and tucking them underneath the bunk. Then he leaned back against the pillow and closed his eyes, immediately falling asleep.

"Hey, Race," Jojo whispered. Receiving no response, he leaned over the edge of the top bunk and peered down at his friend. Race was sprawled across the bed,  very obviously asleep. Jojo rolled back over and sighed as he stared up at the ceiling.

"G'night."

***

Thanks for reading! I wasn't planning on updating yet, but the Tony's are tonight, so I figured, why not? I hope it's not too bad!

Thanks for reading!!!

-Anna