- Chapter 52 - This is Definitely a Filler Chapter lol, Sorry -
Warnings: Sleeping problems, mentions of boroughs wars and attacks
Third Person POV
Race laid on his bunk, just thinking.
The meeting had ended a few hours earlier and he sadly had to leave and go back to Brooklyn.
Race hadn't wanted to say goodbye to Jack and Blink and he hated that he had to.
Blink hugs Race close. "Stay safe, please." He whispers in his ear. "I'll tell Knobs, Ike, and Boots that it's a good idea for them to visit." He assures him quietly.
Race smiles slightly. "Thanks, B." He whispers. "Say I love you to Mush and Al for me, okay? And everyone else." He tells him.
Blink pulls away, a goofy smile on his face. "Does 'everyone else' include Finch?" He asks.
Race thinks about it for a moment. "I guess..." he responds jokingly.
Both boys laugh.
Blink hugs Race again, before pulling away to let Jack hug him.
"I hate that you have to be in Brooklyn." Jack whispers in Race's ear.
"I don't have to be." Race smiles cheekily.
Jack shoots him a look. "Don't make this harder on me that it already is." He mutters, hugging him closely again. "I just want to keep you safe."
Race nods.
"I just want to keep you safe."
Race ran that sentence over and over again in his head.
"Just want to keep you safe."
Sparks would want me to be safe, wouldn't he? Race thinks to himself.
He sighs softly. Yeah, he'd want me to stay in Brooklyn if I had the chance.
He knew that.
Sparks and Smokes.
Smokes.
Smokes is Sparks' younger brother.
Race purses his lips. They're both very different.
In a good way.
They're like a Davey and Les different, but not exactly.
Sparks is a mixture of Jack, Specs, and... Spot. Let's go with Spot.
And Smokes is like me, Elmer, JoJo, Knobs, and kinda like Spot in a few ways when he's being tough.
Race nods to himself. Seems right.
Race talked to Smokes, but not as much as some other Brooklyn Newsies.
Smokes usually hung around the same people, which made sense.
This consisted of Ace, Pebbles, Cloth, and a few others, with the occasional Dice, Hotshot, and Red or someone, even Spot, teasing him.
Race tried to be alone, which never worked.
Race did secretly wish that Sparks would visit them more often, but he understood that he had a job and boyfriend.
Race sighs to himself.
He wished he could fall asleep.
Sure, he was tired and wanted to sleep, but that didn't mean his body was able to at the moment.
Race hated when he was at this point of the night because all he wanted was to sleep and he really couldn't.
(Haha, same Racer.
That's not good.
*smack* bad Stage!
Stop smacking me when you do the same!
I'm a fictional character! You're someone who writes at 3am!
...stop calling me out, Race.)
Race's mind drifted back to Harlem and East Side and that whole problem.
Race had never been to Harlem and he didn't particularly want to go to Harlem.
Harlem seemed like an unnerving place.
Race was just praying that Harlem either stayed out of the Borough War or joined their side because he didn't want to deal with Harlem and East Side at the same time.
He didn't want to deal with East Side at all, but he had to.
Craft popped up in Race mind again.
Race's eyebrows furrow. Why target Woodside?
Woodside is one of the nicest boroughs and Craft is such a sweetheart.
They don't deserve that.
Race knew that Woodside was easily the weakest Borough, but even then, Woodside had nothing Revenge could want.
As far as Race knew, Revenge wasn't going after people, so why he'd think of attacking Woodside made no sense.
Race walks just slightly behind Jack and Sparks.
He was twelve-years-old and was training to become Jack's Second in Command when Sparks and Sparrow left in a few weeks.
Race liked getting to travel to other boroughs.
Sparks smiles as he comes to a stop. "Morning." He greets.
The person looks up at Sparks. "Morning." They smile.
There was a little girl, looking to be around Race's age, standing next to them.
Race waves.
The girl waves back, smiling brightly.
She reminded him of JoJo and still does to this day.
The two are very alike.
That was the first time Race ever met Craft.
The girl was just barely older than Race with a December 1st birthday.
Race heard someone moving in a bed across from him, shaking him out of his thoughts.
He looks over.
Hotshot props himself up on his elbows, holding his head up and looking up at Race from his bottom bunk. "Are you ever going to fall asleep?" He asks, sounding tired.
Race looks at the ceiling, his hands on his stomach. "I hope." He mutters.
Hotshot sighs deeply, rubbing his eye with his hand.
Race looks back at him. "Where you just watching me?" He asks.
Hotshot shrugs. "It wasn't so much as watching you..." he informs him. "I'm just waiting to see when you fall asleep." He explains.
Race's eyebrows furrow. "Why?" He asks.
"No reason." Hotshot shrugs it off.
Race could tell that there was a reason behind this that Hotshot wasn't telling him. "Hotshot..." he starts warningly. "I know when you're lying." He reminds him.
Hotshot shrugs. "Cause I care about you and so does everyone else here, especially Spot." He tells him.
Race's eyebrows furrow, but before he could question it, Hotshot spoke again. "Get some sleep, Racer. Selling is no fun when you're tired." And with that, he rolled over, his back turned to Race.
"Wait-" Race starts.
"Shhh..." Hotshot shushes him.
Realizing he was going to get nothing else out of the brunette-haired boy, Race turned over to make himself comfortable and closed his eyes.
He might as well turn his brain off and try to sleep.
Hotshot wasn't wrong; selling sucked when you were tired.
1020 Words
YOU ARE READING
In Between 'Hattan and Brooklyn || A Sprace Story
FanfictionRacetrack Higgins was a normal Manhattan Newsie- more or less. He was Gay, but so were all of his brothers. He was Jack's Second in Command and had a rough past. He was stubborn, has anxiety, and is a good bit chaotic. Spot Conlon was not a normal N...
