Warning: I can't write fight scenes. I just can't. It seems that making a book with a plot based around a huge fight was a mistake. I'm awful at this. It basically jumps around a lot and doesn't describe the fighting much, so just throw me a bone and try to imagine people fighting. This is NOT my strong suit.

Also! Pretty dark chapter. Just so you know.

***

It hadn't been long, but Spot could already tell that they had the advantage. With all of the boys helping him, he was much more relaxed and focused on the fight. He could more easily spot a sloppy punch or a weak stance, defending himself and taking other guys down with ease.

Other than Hook, they really weren't very good fighters, they only did well because they came in numbers. But that didn't matter tonight. Hook had brought lots of guys, Spot had brought more.

Spot was slowly making his way towards the epicenter of the battle where Hook was located, but the deeper into the fight he got, the more ferocious the boys became. He still didn't think any better of their fighting skills, but with several of them holding clubs and pulling knives, anyone would be worried.

Out of the corner of his eye, Spot saw a boy come charging toward him. He grabbed a club out of the hands of the boy next to him, and swung it at the kid with the knife.

The kid dropped and Spot turned around and knocked the other boy out as well. Spot felt a bit guilty, but bit that back. They would be fine when they woke up. Besides, with their weapons he could go to where Hook was and possibly survive. Shrugging off any leftover remorse, Spot pocketed the knife that was still open in the boy's hand and headed into the fray.

***

Davey really didn't know how to fight, but he was doing his best. He was sticking to the outside, where the weaker, unarmed boys were. He thought he was doing well enough.

Until he got punched in the face.

Davey's hands flew to his face, clutching at his nose that was definitely broken. The boy hit him again and he stumbled back. He tried to catch himself, but that only resulted in him scraping his hands as he hit the ground.

Specs had seen the whole thing and was rushing over to help Davey, only to be surprised when his friend swung his leg out, sweeping the other guy's feet out from beneath him.

It seemed that Davey was just as surprised as he turned to Specs with wide eyes. "Did you see that? I just knocked that guy over!"

Specs laughed. "I saw it Davey," he said as he headed back towards the fight.

***

Finch had promised Mush that he wouldn't let him die, and he fully intended to keep to that promise. Finch stayed close to Mush, fighting the few boys who made their way to the edge of the fray. He didn't even want any of them near Mush.

Finch felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around, ready to deck the kid.

Romeo ducked as the fist came flying at him. He'd been expecting it, but that didn't mean he'd been completely prepared for it. "Nice form," he smirked, raising his eyebrows as though impressed.

"Romeo! Warn a guy before you sneak up on him! What are you doin' here anyway? This is a turf war, not a time for jokin' or messin' around."

Romeo sobered up. "I just wanted to let you know that Ise heard some of the other guys say they saw a kid with a gun."

"A gun?" Finch hissed. "How'd one of them get their hands on somethin' like that?"

"The rumors 'bout Hook havin' connections with a gang ain't just rumors. I s'pose they got it from them."

"Thanks Rome."

Romeo nodded and began to head off, but Finch stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

"Be careful," Finch warned.

"You too."

***

Race could honestly say that he didn't remember a time that he had fought harder than he currently was. He was dodging punches left and right, trying to avoid anyone with a knife, all the while worrying about Jojo as much as he could without completely distracting himself.

His friend was a good fighter, but Race had treated him terribly and figured it only made sense that Jojo would die as punishment for Race being so terrible the past month.

He hadn't seen his friend since the very beginning when he'd disappeared into the crowd, and Race was worried that he'd gotten mixed up with one of the armed boys.

Race swung at the boy who was currently using a small Richmond boy as a punching bag, earning himself a gracious smile. Then he risked a quick glance around the square. Jojo was nowhere to be found.

"Race! Watch out!"

Race ducked and Spot, who'd been a few feet away from him, threw an elbow into the face of the boy who'd snuck up behind him.

"Pay attention Tony! Where's your brain?" Spot hissed as he pushed his way further into the scuffle.

"Pay attention, concentrarsi!" Race muttered to himself.

Race pushed thoughts of any other people out of his mind, though it was difficult, trying to regain focus on the fight at hand. You made mistakes when you got distracted, and mistakes in a time like this could be deadly. The last thing Race needed was to get himself killed before he could even redeem himself.

No, he would have to forget about Jojo for now. There'd be plenty of time for worrying later on.

***

It turned out that Romeo had been right about someone bringing a gun. One of the boys had somehow acquired the thing. It was old and dirty, but it looked as though it would work.

Mush wasn't exactly sure how he'd gotten in this position, staring down the barrel of a gun. The revolver coldly stared back at him.

There had been a warning, he supposed. If you could call a cry of, "He's got a gun!" two seconds before said weapon is pulled to be a warning. There was a warning effort, Mush wanted to say, even if it was to just calm down Henry who'd been the one to notice. He'd tried, it was just a little too late.

Mush's mind was racing, thousands of thoughts traveling through his mind at the same time. Would it hurt? How long would it take him to die? Would he even realize he was dead?

The world seemed to freeze. Mush could see a distraught Henry watching, barley even trying to break the headlock he'd been forced in to. Albert was watching through a swollen eye, head shaking furiously as he saw the gun.

And then there was Finch.

Good ol' Finch who'd always been there for Mush. When the nightmares were too much, Finch was there to talk. Mush didn't have enough money for dinner, no problem. Finch would spot him a nickel, no questions asked. Mush outgrew his only coat? Finch would find him a new one within a week.

Finch who'd promised not to let Mush die.

His mouth hung open, eyes as wide as saucers as the gun was aimed right at Mush's face. He seemed to be mouthing something but Mush couldn't make it out. It didn't matter anyway. Mush was going to die. He'd accepted that, though his stomach remained in knots, and he tried to face the boy bravely. He would not cry. The boy's finger ghosted over the trigger and Mush could feel his lip wobble.

And then everything came unfrozen and the gun wasn't in his face. Instead Finch had dashed out and was trying to wrench it out of the other kid's grasp. They were tugging and swinging at each other as they grappled over the weapon and Mush could almost catch his breath. Then, with a loud bang, the gun went off and Finch was dropping to the ground.

Blood. That's what Mush could see. Lots of it. He couldn't tell exactly where it was coming from, but it was there, and he felt his heart drop as he heard the cry of pain from Finch.

Albert swiped the gun off the ground and gave the Bronx kid a firm hit to the back of the head, knocking him out. Henry and Specs had also found their way over and the four boys were now crowded around Finch.

"I'm sorry!" Mush cried. "I'm sorry Finchy! It's my fault!"

"He don't look too good," Albert muttered and Henry nodded sadly.

"Pick 'im up," Specs ordered. The three did so, though Mush was in a fit, and carried him into a side street where he'd be safer.

The break from the battle gave Specs a chance to look him over. Finch had groaned the whole time they carried him and cried out when they'd lifted him and set him down, though not much was intelligible. His face was pale and sweaty and his hands tightly gripped at his shirt.

Specs breathed a sigh of relief. A quick glance had showed him that Finch had only been caught in the upper leg.

"Someone, gimme your shirt! It's gotta be sorta clean though!"

In a second Henry had removed his and Spot had it tied tightly around Finch's leg. "Mush, stay here. Wese headin' back."

Mush didn't even try to argue. He couldn't leave Finch who was lying on the ground with a bullet wound that he'd obtained from protecting Mush.

"I'm sorry," Mush repeated. It seemed to be the only phrase to pass through his lips.

"Shut up," Finch groaned, biting his thumb as his eyes squinted shut.

"Finch! Youse okay! Stay awake, just keep talkin' to me!"

Finch didn't want to talk. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do. His leg felt as though it was on fire, he'd never felt such pain in his life before. He didn't have a single word to describe how he felt. No, he didn't want to talk. All he wanted to do was lie in his bed and cry, but he settled for fisting his hands in his shirt and biting his lip to stop the tears from coming through.

"Please don't be mad at me Finch!" Mush begged, eyes watering.

"I ain't," Finch managed to gasp out.

"But youse shot!"

"Really? I didn't notice!" Finch tried to turn a bit to face Mush, but the movement sent a new jolt of pain through his right leg and he couldn't stop a couple of tears from dropping down his face.

"This is my fault! I shouldn't have let you promise me that," Mush whispered.

"Youse bein' stupid. You was gonna die, it's w-worth it. I'd do it again."

"I still gotta make it up to you."

"How 'bout you stop talkin'?"

Mush frowned. He didn't particularly like that idea. How was he supposed to make sure Finch was okay if he wasn't talking to him?

"Fine, 'long as you keeps your eyes open."

***

It seemed that some boys were not going to be as lucky that night as Finch had been. Buttons and Jojo could do little more than look on in shock and terror as Mike's hands flew to his stomach and he crumpled onto his knees.

The second he hit the ground, the two boys were flying towards him. Jojo was throwing punches at the boy with the knife, not really sure if he was making contact or not. The only thing he knew was that he had just watched this boy stab his brother.

The boy ran away as soon as he got the chance. Jojo wanted to follow him but Buttons tugged on his arm and one look at Mike was more than enough of a message. If Jojo left now, he wasn't ever going to speak with Mike again.

Buttons' hands were pressed against Mike's stomach, trying to slow the bleeding. It wasn't working. Mike was gasping for breaths and staring in surprise at his stomach as though he hadn't even realized what had happened.

"Youse gonna be alright Mike," Buttons tried to say, though you could hear the doubt and guilt in his voice as he did so. Mike seemed to hear it too.

"No I ain't," he said, pushing Buttons' hands away.

"Hey! Whatcha doin' that for?"

Mike continued to push Buttons away, this time with a bit more force. "I'm gonna die Buttons! That ain't gonna help me!" Mike breathed.

"It might help for a little bit," Buttons said, trying again.

"It hurts more!" Mike cried, tears in his eyes as he struggled for breath.

That was all it took. That was all Buttons needed to hear to do what Mike had said.

"You can't die Mike!" Jojo said tearfully. "We need ya here!"

"No you don't. Youse got plenty o' other guys."

"Don't say that!" Buttons interrupted. "Youse just as important!"

"I know," Mike managed a small, pained smile. "But I guess I ain't needed here no more. Else why would I be-be goin'?"

"'Cause life ain't fair!" Jojo said bitterly.

"Don't be, promise me ya won't be sad," Mike requested.

"Why shouldn't we be?" Buttons asked, blinking away a few tears of his own.

"'Cause I'll be happy. I won't ever be hungry no more, right Jojo?"

Jojo nodded with a small grin as he realized what Mike was talking about. "Yup! You'll never go hungry and you'll always be havin' fun! You'll live in a mansion, even better than Pulitzer's and Carnegie's! You'll always be singin' and stuff."

"Don't sound half bad. I don't know about the singin' though," Mike muttered before coughing. His lips became coated with a sticky red substance. All of them knew what it was and the mood grew grim again.

"Don't worry 'bout me," Mike said, wincing as the pain in his abdomen grew. "I'm-I'm dizzy. I can't see," he said softly.

Buttons choked out a sob and Mike reached out weakly and placed a hand on his arm.

"Don't cry Buttons. Cryin's for sissies."

He punched him softly and Buttons tried to laugh. He wiped away the tears. He'd stop crying for now, he could tell that it scared Mike even more, so he'd stop if only for his brother's sake.

"Besides, I'll get to see Ike. I need Ike, and now wese gonna be together again," Mike said, his breathing labored. He held out his hands and Jojo and Buttons each grabbed one quickly. "Don't leave," Mike pleaded softly. "Not 'til I'm gone."

"Don't worry, we ain't ever leavin'," Jojo whispered.

It was hard for them to watch, but they kept their word. They stayed through the small cries of pain, the paling of their friend's bright face, the heavy breaths and gasps for air, all the way up until the fluttering eyelids and the stilling of his chest. All movement from their friend had stopped.

He'd gone with a small smile though. It had appeared right as his eyes shut for the last time. He'd been staring up at them when the corners of his lips twitched. As he breathing stopped the smile had only grown.

"What d'ya think he was grinnin' about?" Buttons asked as he dried his eyes.

"I think Ike was there waitin' for 'im," Jojo responded softly.

"That's a nice thought to have. Ise gonna think that too," Buttons said.

"Remember, no cryin'," Jojo said, standing up. His tears had left trails on his dirty face, but he was surely wiping them away.

"Nope," Buttons added though his voice wavered and his lips trembled. "Cryin' is for sissies."

***

Jack couldn't believe how well things were going. From where he was all he could see was the Bronx boys slowly growing more tired and weak. Richmond proved to be a great ally, lots of the boys had once done farm work and were incredibly strong.

He'd watched many of the Bronx newsies turn and run from the fight. All it took to send most of them running was a couple of solid punches. Only a few seemed to actually want to be there, but those were the ones that fought the hardest.

Jack was trying to make his way to Hook as backup. Spot had pulled him aside before Hook arrived to let him know that he wanted to be the one to take Hook down. Jack had agreed, though that didn't mean that he didn't plan on having Spot's back. He'd messed up before, he wanted to prove himself this time.

Jack could see Spot, he'd already made it to Hook. The two were engaged in a fierce fight, not seeming to notice the battle slowing down around them.

A glint of silver caught Jack's eye and his breath caught as he realized that Hook had brought a knife, but after a second it was obvious that Spot was already aware of that. He'd come prepared as well.

"Just let 'em be," Cards panted from where he'd stopped next to Jack. "If you go in now you'll only distract Spot."

Jack nodded and resigned himself to hitting anyone who got close to the two borough leaders. If he couldn't help Spot directly, he could at least keep anyone else from interfering.

***

Spot had never been more focused on anything in his life. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he longed to brush it away, but he couldn't risk the second of vulnerability it would cause. He couldn't give Hook an opening, he knew the boy would immediately take it.

Then a hand was swinging down towards Spot and the scene was so reminiscent to that between Hook and Match. Hook's wrist was held firmly in Spot's left hand, though Spot's arm was shaking with the effort it took to keep the hand and knife away from him.

Spot realized that this was his opening. Hook had risked it and things hadn't gone his way. Spot could kill him. As Hook's eyes widened, it became obvious that the madman was aware of that too.

Spot was staring directly into Hook's eyes and for a second he regretted what he was about to do. In this second Hook looked like a scared child, his eyes were haunted, the scar on his face a reminder of what had brought him to this point. But he was too far gone. He couldn't be saved.

It's the last time, Spot reminded himself. Once this is over you'll never have to hurt someone again.

All Spot could think as he backed away from the vicious leader, who was now on the ground, was that Hook certainly hadn't planned on this.

***

Everyone slowly stopped what they were doing, glancing around at each other in surprise and confusion. The Bronx and Queens boys that were left ran off in all different directions when they realized what had happened.

Everyone else was silent as they realized that it was over. The danger that had been torturing and nagging at them the past few months was gone.

Someone let out an excited cheer and all the rest of the boys soon followed.

"We won!" Romeo cried excitedly, throwing his arms around whoever was standing next to him.

Race made his way over to Spot, who was standing off to the side, not really celebrating their victory.

"We did it Spot," he smiled.

"Yeah, we did."

"Youse okay? Want me to stay here?" Race offered.

"Nah, I should be checkin' on my boys anyways. I'll be fine."

"I should too, I ain't seen 'em in forever and I should make sure theyse alright too. Ya know, Finch, Romeo, Henry, Jojo, But-" Race's eyes widened. "Jojo! I was lookin' for him earlier and couldn't find him!"

Spot smiled as Race looked frantically around the square and took off as he spotted his friend.

"Jojo!" Race called.

Jojo looked up and saw Race. He could feel the relief as his friend turned up unharmed and all the awful 'what ifs' left his mind.

Race immediately threw his arms around Jojo, nearly crying as he realized that he could have died.

"Youse alright!"

"I'm alright," Jojo nodded. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Race laughed.

Jojo blinked away a couple of tears as Race pulled away. Race noticed a gave a teary grin.

"Stop cryin' ya baby," Race teased as he dried his face with the back of his hand.

Jojo rolled his eyes but gave a small grin in return.

"So, you back for good now?"

Race nodded happily. "You bet I am!"

***

There ya go! Not the best, but I tried!

After this we've only got the epilogue and then we're done!!!! I can't believe it!!!

I hope you guys liked this, even though I can't write a fight scene to save my life! I don't know, I tried to make it decent.

Have a great day!
-Anna