In Between 'Hattan and Brooklyn || A Sprace Story

Chapter 74 - Brooklyn's Top 4; the Brotherhood

- Chapter 74 - Late Night Debates and Talks (those seem to happen a lot, huh?) -
Warnings: mentions of Revenge, attacks, missing people, slight sadness, but nothing really that bad
Third Person POV

He attacked Richmond, then Woodside.

One of the Flushing littles just disappeared.

"And then you were caught in the crossfire." Spot looked up from his paper and at Hotshot.

Hotshot shrugged. "I don't think I was meant to be," he responded. "They seemed panicked when they realized a Brooklyn Newsie was there."

Spot's eyebrows furrowed.

Ace looked at Hotshot. "Panicked?" he questioned. "The Newsies who've been threatening us for months?"

Hotshot shrugged. "Many people threaten us daily, but they're still too terrified to make a move," he reminded him. He looked over at Spot, "maybe that's East Side."

Spot shook his head. "No, no. Revenge isn't that type of person," he told him. "This has taken years of planning. Revenge doesn't just do something out of the blue, spur of the moment," he stated.

"So what is his plan then?" Ace questioned.

"Race brought up key points about revenge," Red rolled his eyes a bit at Hotshot's snickers, "power, and his plan with the distractions," he said.

"Yeah, and those must've taken years of planning." Hotshot snickered a bit. "Revenge ain't bright enough to come up with that on the spot, and God knows there isn't a brain in Impulse's head," he stated. "It must've taken a lot of thinking on Revenge's part."

Spot rolled his eyes at Hotshot's jokes, although secretly amused. Poking fun at the East Side Newsies who deserved it was definitely full-filling.

Ace turned to Spot. "Speaking of which, Race has played a key part in figuring this stuff out," he said. "Why don't you go get him?" he suggested.

Spot shook his head. "I finally got him to sleep twenty minutes ago," he informed him. "If you think 1) that I'm going to ruin that and go wake him for this, and 2) that the thoughts in his head will make any sense, you're wrong."

Red chuckled. "I love Race, but Spot's not wrong," he stated. "It takes him forever to make sense after he's finally gotten sleep."

Ace pursed his lips. "I suppose you're right." He leaned back in his chair, a sigh leaving him.

"And it ain't like he gets enough sleep to not be extremely tired after he's slept," Hotshot muttered, drawing shapes on the table with his finger.

Spot sighed. "We're working on that one," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Red sighed, resting his head in his arms. "I'm exhausted," he muttered.

"Red, go to sleep," Spot told him, frowning. "Staying up to help isn't worth being exhausted tomorrow when you have to sell with littles," he said.

Red shook his head and sat up again. He rubbed his eyes. "No, because you're going to stay awake to try to figure this out and I'm not letting you do that on your own," he responded.

A small smile formed on Spot's lips as a sigh escaped him. "Sorry. I just want to get this done," he said. "I don't want to miss something and have something bad happened, or be unprepared, you know?"

Red nodded.

Spot turned back to the paper, but he couldn't focus on it. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked up, feeling someone watching him.