Chapter Text
Jack Kelly was a fucking dog.
Spot knew from years of experience, that Jack acted first and thought after. Usually after it was too late. It was laughable. Or, it would be, if it wasn’t so painful for Spot. He didn’t like to dwell on it, but Jack Kelly had certainly changed his life.
This time, Jack seemed to have gotten in way too deep. He was in danger of drowning. Spot wasn’t sure if he should jump in and save Jack, or crack a beer and watch the show.
It was then he had to stop and ask himself, “What would Jack do if roles were reversed?”
Jack would’ve probably laughed at him, Spot thought. But he would’ve then helped.
When the soft spoken boy showed up on their turf, Spot was ready to fight. But he came with news.
“Um… Manhattan is uh…” the boy was, to say the least, flustered. He stuttered for about a minute while they all looked on, amused. He finally blurted, “We’re forming a strike!”
Spot sat up at that. Manhattan? Strike? This had Jack written all over it.
“And uh,” the boy got quieter. “We need Brooklyn’s help.”
Spot could tell the boy was nervous. Probably because there were so many of them, looking on with anything but approval. He had also most likely heard stories about Brooklyn. This guy didn’t look familiar, so he was probably new to the Newsies.
Spot snapped his fingers, signaling for the rest to leave. The boy flinched.
The others exited the room, muttering conspiracies as they did. Spot was left with the boy.
Spot lit a cigar and leaned against the wall. The boy was visibly tense.
“What’s your name, kid?” Spot asked.
“Uh,” the boy blinked. “Davey. David.”
“Davey,” Spot repeated. He inhaled a puff of smoke, then released it. “I’m guessing Jack Kelly sent ya?”
Davey hesitated, but nodded.
“Thought so.”
Spot continued smoking, thinking, while Davey stood there awkwardly.
“So, uh, are you in?” Davey asked.
Spot examined the boy for a minute. He was tall. Not as tall as him or Jack, but still tall. He was skinny, but not from lack of nutrition. He just had no muscles. This kid was a Newsie? How on earth was he surviving? A guy like that should’ve been chewed up and spit out by now. Either way, that was irrelevant at the moment.
Spot didn’t ask Davey any questions. He didn’t care enough. But he was still curious.
Davey had nice hair, Spot noticed. It was dark and curly. It was rather adorable, actually. And his eyes were nice, too. They were a bright blue, and they shined like a puppy’s. Spot could see something good in him, and was momentarily grateful it hadn’t been beaten out of him yet.
“Look, Davey,” Spot said at last. “You seem like a good guy. And you’ve got a good cause. But I wouldn’t hang around Jack, if I was you. He never follows through with anything, that guy.”
Davey frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Jacky Boy’s a tourist. Always movin’, always doin’ somethin’. He’s too… What’s that word?” Spot snapped his fingers, trying to think.
“Impulsive?” Davey offered.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Spot took another puff of smoke, staring off.
Davey watched him. His curiosity had peaked. What was between him and Jack? Was it anything he should know about? No, of course not. Davey was being ridiculous. These two were enemies. Besides, David had no right to be jealous. He and Jack had only been exclusive for two weeks.
“Jack is never satisfied,” Spot continued. “Dreams too big.”
Davey frowned more.
“Just be careful,” Spot warned. “And don’t be disappointed when things don’t work out.”
Davey bit his lip and looked down, second guessing a lot of things. “So, that’s a no?”
Spot put out his cigarette and stepped forward. “You tell Kelly that we’re in when he proves himself. Until then, no thanks.”
Spot still wanted nothing to do with Jack. Not after everything.
Davey nodded. He showed himself out.
Spot wondered what that small kid could be doing with Jack. Was he being manipulated? Or was it… Was it something else?
Spot shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t care. He and Jack ended long ago. Still, he couldn’t help but frown. He’d just have to see how it all played out.
David ran back to Manhattan as fast as he could. Those Newsies scared him. Spot, especially. There was something about him David just couldn’t shake.
David made his way to Medda’s theater. Jack was there, anxiously waiting. Why Jack insisted David not go was still a mystery. But in the end, he was the only one Spot didn’t know, and the only one who offered.
Jack looked up, instantly on his feet. “How’d it go?” he asked, pulling David in for a quick kiss.
David shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Brooklyn said they’d be here.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“As soon as we prove ourselves.”
Jack’s face fell. “Of course.”
David nodded, wrapping his arms around Jack tightly. He buried his face in the crook of his neck.
Jack pulled away a bit to look at him, but not giving up the touch.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
David bit his lip, looking down.
“Davey?”
David shrugged. “Spot just said some… Interesting stuff about you.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Just told me to be careful for some reason.”
Jack pulled David in, holding him close. “Don’t listen to a word he says, okay?”
David nodded without missing a beat. He trusted Jack fully.
Jack pulled him closer.