Warning: Mentions of Abuse and Kidnapping
Third Person POV

It had been two days since Race went to Queens, and today, Race was gonna hang with Spot.

He finished selling papes and headed towards the Brooklyn Dock.

Jack knew that Race was gonna be out late tonight.

When Race got to Brooklyn, he was met by Ace and Smokes on the dock.

"Heya Race!" Smokes exclaims, a smile lighting up his face. "How's it going?" He asks.

Race spit shakes with both boys.

"I'm good, how are you?" Race asks, wiping his hand on his pants.

"We're doing well, thank you." Smokes responds, his smile somehow only getting bigger.

"How are you a Brooklyn Newsie?" Race mutters to himself, looking away from Smokes.

Smokes shoots him an offended look, while Ace laughs a bit.

"Looking for Spot?" Ace asks, his question causing him and Smokes to smirk.

"Oh shut up," Race rolls his eyes, pausing before, "where is he?"

Ace and Smokes laugh.

"His room." Smokes answers, gesturing towards his room.

Race starts walking towards the Lodge, facing Ace and Smokes. "See ya!" He shouts, his hands cupped over his mouth.

The two Brooklyn boys wave, sharing laughs.

Race rolls his eyes and waves back, before turning to walk correctly and heading up to Spot's room.

Race bursts through the door. "Ciao, Spot!" He greets, his voice relatively loud.

"English, Racer." Spot mutters from where he was sitting on his bed.

"Fine." Race rolls his eyes. "Hello, Spot." He greets.

"Heya, Racer." Spot greets, finally turning to face Race.

Race stays silent for a moment, before biting his lip. "Ready to hang?" Race questions, bouncing on the balls of his heels, his hands behind his back.

Spot chuckles at him. "Yeah, let's go." He responds, getting up.

They start walking outside together.

Spot decides to start the conversation, since they had just been walking in silence.

"How are your scars?"

"Fine. I can't really do anything, and they hurt like heck," Race admits, mumbling, secretly hoping Spot didn't hear, but he did.

"I bet you haven't told Jack." Spot bets, knowing it's true, sadly.

He looks away from Race, as Race rubs his arm lightly.

Race sighs. "I haven't, and Davey keeps cleaning them and re-adding cream, and changing the bandages."

"He's doing it to help, you know that right?" Spot questions.

Race nods, shrugging a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, but I didn't want to show you, never mind clean them in the first place." Race reminds Spot.

Spot nods, remembering the night literally two days ago that Race let them treat his injuries.

"Racer, we're best friends, we would've found out anyway." Spot responds. "You were acting weird and we had to figure out why. We never expected to learn that you had an abusive dad."

Race nods.

"I know. I really do." Race replies, crossing his arms.

"I don't think you even told us your whole past, I think you told us part of it. The part that you're from Queens and that your dad was a drunk and abusive."

"I didn't."

"Racetrack Higgins!"

"Oops, didn't mean to admit that."

"When we get back, you're telling Jack and I."

"No. Forget I said anything."

"I don't think I asked, I think I told you." Race cringes at the icy tone Spot used.

"Spot! It's my past! It's not a danger to us anymore. My padres, probably, dead and so are my other family members." Race exclaims, getting annoyed.

He knew Spot was trying to help, but he didn't like being babied and Spot knew this.

"It can't hurt to tell us, and you know that we'll help you and we won't tell anyone else. Your secret is safe with Jack, Davey, and I." Spot reminds him, assuring him that they're there for him. "I promise."

"I know, I know. I should trust you guys more, but it's hard." Race admits, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

"I know it's hard, trust me I do, but you need to tell someone. You can't keep it bottled up" Spot responds, slinging his arm around Race.

"I can and I will," Race mumbles. "Different subject!"

Meanwhile, there are a certain set of twins and best friends who happen to be watching the conversation.

"He thinks we're dead..." Bullet sighs, falling back against the alley wall.

"He also thinks padres dead. That isn't true," Blade angrily (he's angry at his father) throws a blade at the alley wall that they're watching Race and Spot from.

"When we get him, we'll show him, and he'll stay with us again, okay?" Rock asks, trying to assure the twins that everything will be alright.

"Race will believe you, and he misses his brothers, even if he doesn't show it," Spade adds, slinging an arm around Bullet, while Haste does the same to Blade.

"Okay," The twins sigh.

They share looks, before the group laughs together at what happened.

"We're coming, Anthony." Blade states, looking back at Race and Spot.

"Isn't it Antonio?" Haste questions, turning to look at Blade.

"Yeah, but padre hated that name so he called him Anthony, and it kinda just stuck with us." Bullet answers.

Haste nods, not sure he fully understood, but he knew not to question them.

Back with Race and Spot

Race and Spot talked for the whole night, as well as played poker, made fun of each other, and play fought, so the usual stuff.

Later, Spot walked Race back home to Manhattan, where Race and Spot were met by Jack, who was waiting for Race to get back.

"You're okay!" Jack exclaims, looking relieved when he sees Race.

He gets up from where he had been sitting at the table, drawing, and hugs Race.

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" Race asks, a little skeptical.

"Just that you took longer to get back today than usual." Jack sighs, explaining why he was concerned.

It's also because I'm worried about Race's injuries, but I'm not telling him that.

"Sorry Jack..." Race apologizes, rubbing his arm lightly.

"Racer, it's fine, stop apologizing," Jack responds.

Race apologizes again before he could stop himself.

Jack mentally facepalms.

"By the way Jack, keep an eye on Racetrack here, his scars hurt from what he tells me and he hasn't told us his whole past." Spot tells Jack, who looks at Race.

"Spot!" Race exclaims, whacks his arm.

Spot ignores him.

"Racer..." Jack sighs, rubbing his forehead.

"What? I know you're trying to help, but they hurt so much I can't even wave my papes above my head." Race exclaims.

Spot and Jack's eyes widen in shock.

"You didn't say they hurt that bad!" Spot exclaims, eyes wide.

"You didn't say they hurt at all to me!" Jack exclaims, staring warily at the bandages on Race's arms.

"Sorry!" Race apologizes, freaking out.

"You're selling with Crutchie and I tomorrow" Jack decides.

Race's eyes widen.

Race goes to say something, but Spot and Jack beat him to it. "Don't you even try to argue."

Race gives up, knowing he won't be able to get out of this situation. "You make me regret telling you stuff."

"We just worry about you," Jack reminds him.

Race huffs, crossing his arms.

"Non sono un bambino," Race argues, clearly annoyed.

"English Racer." Spot mutters, getting annoyed with his use of Italian when he knows Spot and Jack can't understand it.

"I'm not a baby, guys!" Race repeats, in English this time.

"We never said you were, we said you needed help for a little while while your scars heal." Jack replies to him, proving Spot and Jack's point.

"Fine."

"I'm gonna head out." Spot decides, stepping outside off the Lodging House door.

"Okay, thank you, Spot." Jack thanks him, spit shaking with him.

"Buonanotte Spot!" Race exclaims, waving to him.

"I'm going to assume that that was Good Night," Spot mumbles, turning to walk away.

"Sì" Race confirms, nodding.

"Goodnight, Racer." Spot waves, before exiting the building.

"Tomorrow you're telling us." Jack tells Race, who groans, as the two of them head to bed.

With Spot

Spot was walking to the Brooklyn Lodging House, still a little bit annoyed at Race's use of Italian, so didn't notice people following him.

He felt someone hit his head with a stick.

He fell to the ground, hitting his head harder on the ground. He managed to catch a glimpse of the person's face before they hit him again and he was knocked out of consciousness before he could defend himself.

"Rock, you were supposed to get Anthony, not Spot." Bullet scolds him, pointing his finger at him jokingly.

"Sorry, he was the only one here," Rock apologizes.

Spade thinks for a minute, before coming up with an idea.

"It's fine, we'll just use him as bait to get Anthony." Spade responds.

"Good idea." Bullet agrees, sharing a smirk with his twin.

"You know, it's super funny watching Anthony confuse everyone with Italian," Blade points out. He and Bullet laugh.

"Because you do that to us," Haste points out, causing Bullet and Blade to start laughing even more.

"That's why it's funny." Haste rolls his eyes at Blade. "Now let's get him to the Lodging House, and get our plan set into motion."

Oh no, what have you gotten yourself into Spot?

1462 Words