Enjoy! :)

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When Spot and Race found out that Emiliano made his home in a little alleyway with only a blanket and a 4 by 8 plank of wood propped up by a stick, they changed that immediately. They started asking around for who would want to take him in, and got many offers: the newsies' lodging house, Miss Heather, Race's nonni, Jack and David, Stargazer and Ray, Andrea and Giacomo...

Emiliano's eyes widen each time someone confirmed that they would love to take him in.

By the time they got to the last pair, Stargazer and Ray, Emiliano starts crying. Race frowns and goes to him immediately, asking what's wrong.

Emiliano blinks back tears and looks up at Race. "Me siento...I feel...wanted. Loved." 

Without any hesitation, Race hugs Emiliano close, and is soon joined by Spot, and also Ray and Stargazer. Because Ray never hesitates to show a child love, and Stargazer doesn't like feeling left out.

Of course, Emiliano did ask why he couldn't just stay with Spot and Race.

"Well, right now we're kinda nomadic," Race explains. "Wanderers without real roots. We can't take you in because we don't have a set home. But even when we're like ships sailing the sea, we have our ports, our anchors. And no matter how far we sail, we always come back to our ports and the people who love us. We want to give you something that we feel you haven't had in a long time: stability. So that's why we think it's better for you to set down your roots, but if you do wanna keep traveling with us, we definitely won't stop ya."

Poetic and kind, Spot thinks dreamily while watching Race adoringly.

"So...now what?" Emiliano asks after his space in Ray and Stargazer's orphanage--kind of a misnomer because it's more of a home than anything else--is established, tilting his head up curiously at Race and Spot.

Spot glances at Race. "Well, we were thinking of movin' around a bit, tryna find other folks like yourself who have been impacted negatively by Them. Then we can do whatever we can to help."

Emiliano nods eagerily. "I wanna join."

A smile tugs at Race's lips. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Race grins. "Let's go then!"

"Just so you guys know, every child who lives under this roof has to be inside by 8 pm," Ray says in a serious tone but with a twinkle in his eye. "So you gotta be back before 8, ya hear?"

Race gives a little salute. "Understood, sir, Ray, sir."

"Get outta here," Ray musses Race's hair with a smile on his face. Race giggles, and just for a moment they're not 19 and 35, but 8 and 24, and nothing is wrong in the world.

"And don't forget that he needs to come back with all his fingers and toes!" Stargazer pretends to chatise Spot.

Spot grins. "Yes, Stargazer."

Emiliano grins as he watches them. 

He knows he has found the right people.

It's only when the three of them are walking that they realize they actually have no clue where to start. The park? The square? Find someone they know? Which is pretty hard considering that the people who work to undermine Them are extremely good at hiding.

The only ones that they always have access to are Andrea and Giacomo, as well as Ray and Stargazer.

It had been hard for Spot to come back so soon after what had happened the day before. He had stopped outside, taking a deep breath. Race, noticing that something was up, squeezed his hand reassuringly. "It's okay. I bet he's had time to deal with it. Besides, he's got Ray. And, I bet he's always excited to see his favorite cousin." 

Spot squeezed Race's hand back. "Thanks, sweetheart. I...really needed to hear that."

"Well, what do you think, Emiliano?" Race asks. "Did your parents have any close friends? Or have you...noticed anything or anyone?"

"Not really." Emiliano contemplates for a moment. "Actually, I think I know where to go."

"Alright then." Race gestures in front of them. "Lead the way."

A small smile. "Really?"

"Really."

Emiliano grins. Race grins back.

And so they're off, Emiliano with a little skip in his step, with Spot and Race right behind, holding hands, feeling light and happy as they can be.

 Emiliano guides them down to the Brooklyn docks.

"There's a fisherman here," Emiliano explains, "who has been here a long time. He knows todo, and todo el mundo."

"The whole world, huh?" Race muses. "Ya know, in Italian, we say tutto il mondo. Took me a long time to learn that it didn't literally mean the whole world."

"I know right? It sounds like it should mean everybody in the whole wide world, but it doesn't. It can mean everyone you know, or everyone around you, or everyone in a town or a city. Very confusing at first."

Spot watches Race and Emiliano chatter back and forth about their languages, and other things they've taken too literally over the years. He smiles. He's glad they found each other.

And yet...a part of him wishes that he could see the world the way they do so Spot can be a part of it too. Of course, Race goes through a lot of struggles that Spot can't even begin to understand, but he wishes that he could be to Race what Emiliano is for him.

And hearing them talk about the languages of their ancestors...it makes Spot wish he learned some Gaelic. His family was too big on assimilation, trying to seem as American as possible, with as little ties to Ireland as they could. He's been meaning to ask Stargazer for some time now if he has picked up any Irish Gaelic over the years, but has never had the chance to bring it up.

Spot is brought out of his thoughts when Emiliano calls out to a boat on the water. "¿Por qué es muy bonito el mar?"

Spot and Race watch together as the fisherman in the boat turns around, an older man, eyes crinkling upon recognizing Emiliano, who calls back: "¡Porque nosotros lo navigamos!"

Emiliano grins. "Come on!" he motions for Race and Spot to follow him as he scampers further down the docks. The pair can do nothing but follow him.

Without warning, Emiliano hops on the fisherman's boat as it docks. He and the fisherman gesture for Race and Spot to join them. They exchange glances, then carefully make their way into the boat.

"Ellos son mis nuevos amigos," Emiliano explains to the fisherman. He points at Race. "Este muchacho es como yo."

A smile tugs at Race's lips. This boy is like me.

"¿De verdad?" the fisherman raises his eyebrows, prompting Emiliano to nod respond "mhm" enthusiastically.

"Fabrizio Sosa," the fisherman introduces himself, holding a rubber gloved hand out to Spot and Race.

As Race shakes his hand, he plays that first and last name back in his head. Fabrizio, Sosa...

Fabrizio smiles, noting Race's calculations. "Mio mammà è Italiano, y mi padre, Puertorriqueña."

Race's eyes widen. "Ah, capisco. Yo...uh..."

"Comprendo?" Fabrizio offers.

"Entiendo?" Emiliano supplies.

Race stutters. "I-uh, yeah. Both of those."

Fabrizio chuckles, not unkindly. "Puoi imparare." You can learn.

Race smiles back.

Fabrizio glances at Emiliano. "Dime, chico. What brings you here today?"

Emiliano glances back to Race and Spot. "These two wanted to ask ya something."

"Is that right?" Fabrizio tilts his head inquisitively.

Race glances at Spot, trying to figure out who will take action first.

"You can tell him," Spot encourages him.

Race lets out a little sigh. He had a feeling that Spot was going to say that.

Great. Now he needs to form the words himself.

"Well..." Race starts. "Emiliano told us that you know a lot. A lot of people, a lot of things."

Fabrizio nods. "I do."

"Well, we were wondering if you knew about...Them?"

Fabrizio stiffens. "Elaborate on that."

"We don't work for Them," Race assures him quickly, thoughts racing, mouth unable to keep up. "We-uh, we're against Them actu-actually. We-we-took them-took them on three years-years ago. We know what they do-what they did, and we-we stopped 'em, and we got help from The Gambler-"

"Woah, slow down there," Fabrizio interrupts.

Race sits back, trying to look unintimidated, failing to do so.

"Relax," Fabrizio tells him. "I can see now we're on the same side. And that we're talking about the same thing."

Race's shoulders sag with relief.

"So," Fabrizio continues slowly, "you know The Gambler?"

Race nods enthusiastically. "Fortunato Alam Ishmael Celesto Nephus? Of course we do."

Fabrizio's eyebrows raise. "Wow, you're on full-name basis, huh?"

Race nods proudly. "And I got promoted to first name basis about a year ago."

"I think it was longer than that," Spot cuts in gently.

Race waves a hand in Spot's face. "Ah, you know I can't really keep track of time."

"I'm impressed," Fabrizio tells Race. "The Gambler doesn't allow just anyone to learn his true name. Let alone his full name. You must be pretty special if he trusted you that much."

Race scrunches his shoulders in a little, tongue flicking out-then-in, averting his eyes, enjoying the praise but still rambling on like "Oh, I don't know about that..."

"Race is pretty special," Spot confirms, slinging an arm around Race. "In fact, he's the most special guy I know."

"Ugh. Spot-"

"I wanna dote on you. Let me dote on you. And you gotta stop selling yourself short."

"You think after over a decade of bein' a newsie I'd be in the habit of sellin' myself short-?"

"Son juntos," Emiliano whispers to Fabrizio as Spot and Race banter. They're together.

"Sí, lo puedo ver," Fabrizio whispers back in the same conspiratorial tone.

That gets Race to look at them. "I heard that."

Emiliano feigns innocence. "Chisme? Yo? Nunca."

Race narrows his eyes. "Hmmm, I'm gonna keep my eye on you kid." Then to show he has no real malice, he musses Emiliano's hair, causing him to giggle. 

"So, sounds like you are friends with The Gambler too," Spot brings the conversation back to where they started.

Race looks at Spot and smiles. For how much talk Spot has about how great Race is, Spot really shouldn't undermine how important he is.

"I am," Fabrizio affirms. "We knew each other before our joints decided to forever ache. I'm not sure if he's ever mentioned me. "

"He hasn't," Race confirms guiltily. "Sorry."

Fabrizio shakes his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. And it makes senese. We haven't really been in each other's lives for a very long time."

"How come?" Spot inquires. "If it's okay to ask."

"I appreciate your politeness," Fabrizio acknowledges. "Our goals began to differ. He was always meant to be pulling the strings, always being in direct contact with those who go head to head with Them. I was meant more for the quieter side: the one where I'm usually underestimated."

"So you're a fisherman," Spot comments.

Fabrizio nods. "You wouldn't believe the things I hear people say. And there's another thing too--I'm the one people go to after they've had their last straw. They go to the Gambler when they're still ready to fight. They come to me when all the fight is gone. So what do I do? Patch them up. Teach them a trade or two. Provide them a space to just be. Of course, I barely have enough space for myself, so I can't provide a home; but I know others who can. I help along anyone who's struggling, whether or not they're involved in this fight at all. Maybe not as important as what The Gambler does, but I'm needed nonetheless."

"Don't say you're not as important," Race responds instantly. "We're actually looking for people like you. Or rather, people who have been directly impacted by Them. We're hoping we can help...heal them, in a sense, if there's a way to do that." He glances at Fabrizio. "Which, sounds an awful lot like what you do."

He can't keep the awe and appreciation out of his tone. He recognizes Fabrizio can see it in his expression because he smiles back warmly, causing Race to smile too.

"Well, it looks like our interests our aligned," Fabrizio comments. "Tell you what. Instead of you two searching willy nilly for folks, why not stay here with me? Or if you don't stay, report back every once and a while, and I'll either have someone you can help or can send you in the right direction."

Race smiles. "Davvero?"

Fabrizio nods. "Davvero."

That's when Race's stomach rumbles.

Fabrizio chuckles. "Well, if you like fish, what kinda fish would ya want for lunch? I can also whip up some pane or tomato soup back at home."

And so a new bond is formed, through connections of the stomach, and the soul.

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Very sweet :')

This fisherman is based off of Fabrizio de Andre's song Il Pescatore--which translates to the fisherman, and has themes of helping the wanted escape from the authorities. Hence the first name Fabrizio haha. He's getting his last name from Mercedes Sosa--an Argentinian singer with a famous song called Solo Le Pido A Dios, which is about how her only wish is that the injustice, the war, everything, are not indifferent to her. Thought it was fitting to name this fisherman after these two iconic singers.

It is coming to my attention that I don't actually know as much about the history of Central and Latin America as I thought I did, which I'm seeking to change as soon as possible.

I think I'm incapable of not writing Sprace banter. Like,, banter is what they are best at.

I love when chapters I don't originally have any ideas for turn out to be 2000+ words long /gen

Unfortunately, I do have to say that I'm running out of time to write more of this story all in one go. I leave for the airport in 24 hours and I'll be gone for 10 weeks. I won't be bringing my computer with me, so I probably won't be writing in those ten weeks. I do have a few more chapters pre-written, and I've decided to release them once a week while I'm gonna + when I have access to the internet, so you aren't starving for ten weeks with no new chapters. Apologies once again, I hope you all remain patient with me, and thank you for sticking with me thus far on this story <3

Please, no homophobia/transphobia/aphobia, profanities directed at other users, hate etc in the comment section at all times.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (who is no longer consuming media, the media is consuming them)