Still Fighting

One-Shot for Firefly!

By X-Scree Scree-X

Tonight had been an overall successful one... aside from the fact that I hadn't gotten my way with things because Jack decided he liked David's idea of not fighting. What kind of whimp who starts a God-damned war between a bunch of dirty kids and the biggest men in New York decides he doesn't want to do any physical fighting? And even though the Mouth said it was just a little strike, I knew it was going to turn into a whole lot more than just something little. What could I say? I had to follow my gut feelings, and half of the time I was right. The other half? None of anyone's business from what I see. So once I agreed that there wouldn't be any fighting and I spit shook with Jack, the three of us sat back down. Of course I reached my table first... but who decided they wanted to sit next to me? When he sat down I threw a glare at him, but he just kept staring up at Medda like he'd fallen in love again. I could feel the bile rise in my throat a bit. How old was she again?

When Medda began to sing and the cheering began to ring through out the theatre, I looked around to see what buroughs I could spot. Manhattan and Brooklyn of course... but over against the wall, and just about all over, was Staten Island and their leader Shark, who was half Irish and half Puerto Rican. Up above us was Queens with their leader Notch, a miniture teenager with a fierce personality, and right up there with them was the Bronx, and their leader Jet, a tall gangly fellow who looked like a breeze would push him over. And then spread throughout the theatre were the other, smaller newsie groups like Midtown and the Battery.

I stretched my limbs warily as Medda's song droned on. It's not like I didn't like her singing; no, she was great. I just wasn't the type to hear the same song a million times over again and love it each and every time. See, every time Medda held a party for us newsies or there was a big newsie meeting, Medda would always start with "High Times, Hard Times". I mean sure, everyone else seemed to liked hearing it on repeat, some of those goons being Blink, Racetrack and even a couple of my boys, but I wasn't one of them.

Lazily, I glanced down at the table in front of me, and in surprise I noticed someone had set a glass there for me. Or someone had just forgotten theres... either way it was mine now. Taking the short, clear glass of unknown brown liquid, I took a sip. Some kind of soda rushed over my taste buds and I shrugged my shoulders as I swallowed the bit I had gotten before putting the cub back to my mouth to take another larger swig.

Glancing up as I drank, I noticed that everyone had joined in on dancing with Medda, making a giant, swaying mound of newsboys around the stage as the song began to come to it's never ceasing end. Taking the glass from my lips, I felt a smile come to my lips. Maybe this whole strike thing wasn't such a bad idea after all. My boys and I hadn't had this much fun for months.

"Hey-" I heard a cut off mumble come from my left, and I looked over to see Davey's face getting ever nearer to me. I almost threw my glass in his face before I noticed he was trying to tell me something, so reluctantly, I leaned in to hear him over the noises around us.

Surprisingly enough, the Walking Mouth muttered a single word in my ear; "Snyder".

But it was enough to make me stand up.

Great. That sack of old bones was here to crash our little party wasn't he? Damn.. I cursed silently as I looked over to where he was, talking with Denten. Before I knew it, Davey had stood up, blocking my view as he began to make his way over to Jack. As I turned around to go find some of my boys, I mumbled to myself, "Oh yeah Davey; go save yoah liddle boyfriend. Hope Sara ain't jelous."

What could I say? I always laughed in the face of danger. It kept me alive this long, hadn't it?

As quickly as I could, I ran through the crowd, purposely smacking into as many people as I could to warn them before a million bulls came in. But before I even got to one of my boys, I heard a loud, high pitched whistle coming from where I had last seen Snyder. Well that was bound to get everyone's attention.

Before you could say "this is for the newsies", everyone around me was at their feet and/or racing for the nearest exit. I knew that my older boys would be able to take the hint and get out before it got bad, but there were a few younger newsies I had that had probably already gotten trampled on by now.

While newsies and street kids were pushing in a current against me to get out, I was the lonely fish swimming the wrong way.

Besides... everyone needed out right? Even Jack and Davey. They were the ones who started this, and Christ, they were going to finished it.

It wasn't long before I started to get shoved. Since I was the only one trying agains the crowd, people were getting nervous and hands were flying. I began to loose count of slaps to the face as I began to reach the stairs to go up.

The crowd began to thin, and soon enough I was able to run, and stumbled here and there, up the stairs. I could see a few kids running back and forth on the top floor, and even a few kids flying down the stairs, but none were actually going up.

"Look who we got here Morris." I paused in my flight, an eyebrow immediately going up. I knew that voice. I knew that person all too well.

Turning around, I glared down at the Delancey Brothers, both of which stood at the bottom of the stairs. Slowly, taking my time, I took each step carefully, coming down to their level, which was actually a stair or two away.

"Well if it ain't Spot Conlon." Oscar said, his eyes going up and down me in an idiotic manner to try and scare me.

"Cut da crap, Oscah. You got somet'ing ta say ta me? I'm in a hurry." I growled, my hand going slowly to my cane.

"Yeah, I do." Oscer growled, taking a step toward me.

I quickly pulled my cane out and hit him right on the forehead, leaving a nice red impression going form the center of his eyes to the top of his hair line.

As Oscar stumbled back, Morris came at me, swinging his monkey fists like he thought he'd actually hit me.

In one swift motion, I lunged at Morris, getting him squarely in the stomach like I had a real sword in my hand. Morris went out like a light bulb, and large breath of air left his lungs only to get me right in the face. I stumbled back, trying not to cry at his smell.

Out of the front door ran Kelly followed by a horse. Jack collapsed at the foot of the stairs, and I even crawled back over the first few steps to avoid getting trampled by the rearing horse before the rider fell off. In no time, Jack had gotten to his feet and was running straight up the stairs, looking back over his shoulder, down at me.

"Jack-!" I saw the men show up in front of him, but just as he turned his face back around, he got a nice one right in the kisser.

Bulls began to swarm around me and up the stairs to get Jack, and once the situation dawned on me, I began to race up the stairs to Jack, smacking people left and right with my cane. I was almost to Jack when someone suddenly grabbed the back of my collar, yanking me back and making my breath catch in my throat. Before I knew it, two bulls had grabbed my arms and held them behind me, dragging me down the stairs as I fought back.

"Jack!" I yelled at him, but he didn't answer. And just like that, I stopped fighting and let the bulls pull me along. It was all over anyway; Jack was going to the refuge and the rest of us? Go back to selling papes...


That was okay XD I'm pretty happy with it!

And you see, I like writing through Spot's pint of view, because I think we both act a bit similar. Laughing during danger, all that stuff... I guess that's how I've always imagined Spot to be XD Any critisism? Comments? Likes?

~Scree