Chapter Text
The blood seeped over the cobblestones toward her feet. The slow trickle mixed with the ice and snow, creating a dark puddle alongside the body lying face down in the alley. Flakes of snow began to fall, covering everything in a thin white blanket.
The small group of boys began to turn and walk away. It was done. No sense in freezing to death or taking the chance of ending up like that poor bastard laying there. Money would be exchanged later, payment for those who had the foresight to bet on the scrawny 14 year old.
She looked up and saw his clear blue eyes gazing at her steadily. There was no fear or regret or sympathy. It was unnerving to see the look of calm on his face. Brooklyn was his.
"We have to go."
She pulled the patched jacket tighter around her body and recoiled from the sight of blood on his hand as he reached out for her. A flash of pain across his face before he crouched to the ground and scooped a handful of fresh snow to scrub away the stain. The air was still and all she could hear was her own heart beating. That couldn't be it. They couldn't leave him laying there. It was so cold.
The sound of a bull's whistle pierced the silence and he grabbed her arm, pulling her away as she stumbled through the piles of snow. All sense of direction was lost as they skirted behind buildings and through the maze of streets. She felt her coat rip as she scrambled through the broken basement window ahead of him. There was a sting of pain but she ignored it for the moment and followed him into the dark. She understood that tomorrow, when the sun came up, she would lose him. He was Brooklyn now, and there was no going back.
Tay swallowed hard as she tried not to think about the pitch black surroundings. The only faint light came from the end of Spot's cigarette as he sat smoking in brooding silence.
"Spot?"
"Not now."
"But…"
"Not now, okay?"
"Okay."
He sounded tired and she could feel him trembling ever so slightly. She wanted to wrap herself around him and protect him from what he had just done but it was too late and she knew he would resent her for it. There was no place for vulnerability in his new world. She wondered if that meant that there was also no place for her. She would end up alone again. She tried not to panic as the dark seemed to press down on her from all sides. Fears crept up from the back of her mind and she bit down on her tongue to keep from crying out. Just before the tears fell Spot reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. His hands were rough, covered in calluses and old scars but his touch was gentle, reassuring.
"I'm right here."
What could she say? Should she say anything? The silence was heavy and uncomfortable and a thousand different thoughts bounced around but picking the appropriate thing to say or do seemed impossible. He'd killed someone. Tay shook her head. Not someone. The leader of Brooklyn. The boy she held responsible for the death of her brother. Tomorrow Spot would be the leader.
Her eyes were heavy with sleep but her mind would not allow her rest. Peace of mind had been elusive since Spot had come to her that freezing cold night and told her that her brother had been killed. She wondered if she would ever sleep again. She leaned her head on Spot's shoulder, unsure if he would allow it or if he would brush her off. He allowed it and Tay breathed a little bit easier. Maybe she wouldn't be forced to go it alone after all.
"Race is leaving."
"He ain't."
"You don't believe me? Go see for yourself."
"But he promised…"
"And now he's breaking it," Spot said, tearing the piece of bread he held and handing half over to where Tay sat shivering on a broken wagon axle, balancing a cup of cold coffee on her knee. The breakfast provided by the nuns was almost always dry and tasteless but it was better than nothing. Tay took the bread Spot offered without looking up and seeing the dismal look on her face Spot felt satisfied that his announcement had done its intended job. He couldn't help but add one last jab. "Told you."
After Tay's brother, Ciaran, had been killed over gambling debts, Racetrack had sworn to step into the role for Tay and he encouraged her to look at him as someone to turn to for help although Spot had warned her it wouldn't last long. Racetrack's departure wasn't much of a surprise to Spot as he had suspected once the guilt of Ciaran's death had worn off Race would realize the bitter reality he'd be facing if he attempted to help take care of his dead partner's teenage sister on top of trying to survive on the streets himself.
"Where's he going?"
"Manhattan."
"For how long?"
"What do I look like? His social secretary? I don't give a damn, doll."
"You brought him up," Tay muttered under her breath before taking a large sip of coffee. She wrinkled her nose in distaste before passing the cup to Spot.
"I thought you might appreciate me giving you a chance to say your goodbyes to him," Spot told her.
"He's only going to Manhattan, I could go visit him any time." It was a tentative statement and one that Spot saw right through. He knew Tay expected him to predict dire consequences for her if she tried to leave Brooklyn but he felt confident in his knowledge of how fearful she was about leaving the neighborhood she felt safe in and convinced himself it would never happen.
"Let me know the day, I'll go with you," Spot answered congenially, passing the cup back to her. Tay blinked a few times in surprise at his attitude but quickly recovered.
"Why is he leaving? What did you do?"
"Say that again?" Spot's voice became ice and Tay paled in the early morning sun, almost dropping the cup which started to tremble in her hand.
"I just…I don't understand…"
"What is it that you don't understand, doll? How could your supposed friend lie to you like that? Or maybe you're confused 'cause you thought he was gonna stick around when the truth is he's only ever been loyal to himself? He ain't interested in playing nursemaid to you when he could be off living the high life in Manhattan."
"He'll be back," Tay answered in a voice that wasn't at all confident.
A discussion between Spot and Race earlier had led to an arrangement that would indeed allow Racetrack access to Brooklyn but the older boy had made the mistake of using Tay as a bargaining chip which was something Spot intended to expose when the right opportunity appeared. Until then he planned on depicting Race as another fair weather friend that Tay should know better than to depend on.
"If he does come back, it won't be for you," Spot answered. "All he cares about are those nags of his."
"Maybe he's trying to make the best of us all being one city now," Tay suggested quietly and Spot immediately scoffed.
"Just 'cause some bigwigs decided Brooklyn was part of New York don't mean I gotta agree."
The changeover of Brooklyn from independent city to outside borough had been a thorn in Spot's side for some time and he had refused to even discuss it, stubbornly sticking to his belief that Brooklyn had always been independent and would continue to be regardless of what any idiot politician had to say about it. With the new year had come the consolidation of the boroughs and Spot had been purposefully ignoring the whole situation. Tay had taken the opposite attitude and considered the merging of the city to be a good thing. She had developed a habit of trying to needle Spot into granting his permission for her to visit the other boroughs even though he doubted she'd ever willingly cross the border on her own.
"I bet Race will like it," Tay mentioned softly, speaking more to her shoes than to Spot. "Everyone says they got everything you could ever want over there. Nell went with that whole group to Irving Hall last Tuesday. They had seats up in the balcony and she said the whole place sparkled so bright she got dizzy."
The glimmer of hope and excitement in Tay's eyes despite her reluctance to bring up what she knew was a sore subject caused Spot's stomach to flip flop. To invite her out, to take her hand and lead her into some grand setting was a dream but it would never be a reality. Acknowledging Tay's importance in his life would be the same as painting a target on her back and Spot knew full well the consequences of allowing his enemies to unearth his weak points. Keeping Tay isolated in Brooklyn was a vital step in Spot's selfish plan to keep her safe from his enemies and he relied on the trauma of her previous experiences to curtail any inclination she had to explore beyond Spot's territory.
"Pretty sure it wasn't the lights making her dizzy, doll." Drug use was prevalent among the runaways and orphans that populated the riverfront although Spot tried to keep a lid on it when it came to Tay. He watched as Tay finished her last bit of bread before handing her a thin stack of newspapers. "And since when do you care about where Nell or any of them girls go? It ain't like they'll start inviting you along."
"Even Mouse went," Tay continued, ignoring Spot's remark. "He said the lady keeps the theater open just for us some days and I–"
"Stick to this side of Fulton today," Spot interrupted, eyeing the gloomy sky above them and putting an end to the discussion. "I ain't gonna have you freeze to death in this weather 'cause you decided to go traipsing around the city hunting for trouble."
"Asking to go to one show ain't hunting for trouble," Tay argued.
"Whether it is or it ain't don't matter, doll. All you gotta worry about is keeping to what I said." Spot studied Tay's appearance as she stood there visibly shivering and he felt his heart twist at the hunger evident on her face and how the purple bruises under her eyes stood out against her pale skin. He pulled the ratty scarf he'd nabbed out of the charity bag from around his neck and started to wrap it around Tay's head and face. She opened her mouth to protest but Spot cut her off. "I ain't that cold and everyone knows gypsy blood is thin."
"Is he really leaving?" Spot's hands grew still when he heard the sorrow in Tay's voice while he finished looping the scarf around her.
"Yes."
"He'll be back, right?"
"I don't know, doll."
"It'll be just you and me. Again."
"Same as always. Like I told you."