Of All the Things that I Don't Know (Spot Conlon + OC)

Chapter 10

"Conlon, we need to talk about the last few weeks."

Spot's alcohol addled brain hadn't been able to stop the laugh that so easily erupted from within him, even after noting Rummy's grave face and severe tone.

"Fuck off, Rummy," Spot slurred, giving his second in command an unimpressed eye roll as he turned back to hazily peer at the setting sun from his stance on the Brooklyn docks.

He lifted the bottle of whiskey he had stolen earlier to his mouth, taking another hefty swig. However, he felt himself almost choking on his mouthful as Rummy aggressively snatched the bottle out of his grasp in one swift movement.

"I will fuckin' soak ya til ya can't walk!" Spot shouted, making a move to swing at Rummy but only succeeding in stumbling over his own feet and falling to his knees.

"You ain't soakin' nobody in the state you're in, Conlon. You're a fuckin' mess," Rummy said, a hint of disgust in his tone. He had deftly stepped away from Spot's clumsy attempt at an attack and now stared down at him shaking his head.

"Well, when I sober up in a few hours, you'll be sorry ya fuckin' challenged me," Spot mumbled irritably, falling back on his bottom to regain some balance before he attempted to stand again.

Rummy's scoff echoed across the empty docks. "You ain't been sober in two weeks, Conlon. I ain't gonna hold my breath," he said harshly.

Spot glared up at his second in command but made no move to deny his allegation. He knew sobriety had eluded him for the past few weeks but he cared little about it. If anything, he felt he was functioning far better drunk than he would be with no alcohol in his system. After his visit to Jack Kelly, Spot had found himself spewing forth a plethora of confusing emotions with no rhyme or reason to them and no warning for when they would begin or end. He had lost complete control of himself and had no remedy for regaining it. So, upon finding out that the steady consumption of alcohol caused complete numbness to fill him, quieting every emotion he had into coldness, he welcomed it with open arms.

"What's it to you, Rummy?" Spot mumbled, again glaring harshly up at the tall, dark-haired boy standing defiantly before him.

Rummy glowered unabashedly back at his leader while angrily saying, "You are one selfish sonovabitch, Conlon. You're drownin' and you ain't even looked around ta see that you're takin' the lot of us with you!"

Rummy was only about a year younger than Spot, but had easily surpassed Spot's height and weight several summers before. Spot was by no means a scrawny man. Though tall and slim, he possessed a strength and agility that could easily overtake anyone that dared to test him. But Rummy was far beyond the average when it came to brawn. He was a tall, solid tree of a man who surprisingly also possessed a softness about him that endeared even the smallest of children. But, Spot knew better than to be fooled by the benign air that exuded from Rummy. From the many years they had spent in each other's company and confidence, Spot was well aware that when pushed, Rummy was anything but harmless. The boy could possess a savageness that even made Spot wary from time to time, and also utterly thankful that Rummy took his loyalty to him very seriously.

He sometimes found himself wondering why it had been he and not Rummy that had acquired the title of "king" in Brooklyn, but these moments of insecurity were always fleeting. He saw the blatant respect that had clouded Rummy's eyes from the t ime they were kids. Although Spot sometimes rued the fact that Rummy had been privy to his pre-leader days in Brooklyn, if only because he had seen Spot at his weakest, he also felt grateful that there was still someone around him that knew him without his armor on. If anything, this rare knowledge that Rummy possessed seemed to only heighten his respect for Spot as leader. And the boys of Brooklyn mirrored this respect. New ones, not knowing Spot well, often would only adhere to Rummy's demands merely from fear of his intimidating size, but soon, they too were aware of the reason that Rummy always deferred to Spot no matter what. Spot might not have been the gargantuan man that Rummy was, but in spirit, fairness and cunning Spot far outshined all of his peers.