u n d e r the bridge {spot}

[Doll]

It was raining in Brooklyn today, and Doll may have grown up on a boat, but rain was not her favorite thing on earth. Sighing, she leaned against a pillar that held the Brooklyn Bridge up, watching the water lap at the sand, the tide going bit higher due to the weather. Sand got between her toes, but that didn't bother her. What bothered her was a fight that her and Spot had a while back, to a point where Doll was almost going to leave forever. To England. She knew nothing of England. She sighed at that memory.

Looking out at the pillars out in the water, she watched as waves crashed against them, hearing the familiar sound of waves, and the occassional cargo ship. This was the place she knew. Doll thought about to all the times she was kidnapped. It was always to a place where there wasn't a beach, or boats, or anything like that. It was always away from those type of things. That's why she was always happy to get home. That way she could smell the salty air, hear seagulls, climb the beams and go swimming around the familiar docks.

But her mind wandered to one thing, and one thing only. Spot had never saved her. The first time she got out of Harlem, her and Babydoll had saved themselves with the help of a hoity toity. The second time Peep had saved her, and he was gonna see if it would get him an alliance. Spot had never saved her those times. Doll looked down at the sand, and wished she hadn't started thinking. She guessed that thing with Spot, was that he was busy most of the time. He never took a day off, just for fun.

He was always busy.

Looking out at the sea again, it reminded her of him. How one moment he could be nice, and calm, but the next; harsh, wild and untamable. Doll knew people wondered how she could handle the yelling, and the drinking. The thing was, she could handle the yelling, but the drinking... sometimes it felt like he wasn't himself when he was drunk around her, it was hard for her to describe it. He just acted so much different from the Spot she loved. The drunk Spot just wasn't who she had fallen in love with, not at all.

The Spot she had fallen in love with, was a man who was a leader, tough as nails, ruling with an iron fist. She loved working for him, reporting things to him. That was Doll's job, truly. But for a while that's all it ever felt like, a job. Sometimes she just didn't want to report, to say no. But no, she never said no to most of what she was told to do. She simply did it silently. But when asked if she enjoyed her job, she would simply nod her head yes and not say anything.

It wasn't like she didn't love her job. She did! But when the person you loved didn't feel like they loved you back was your co worker, it made work a chore. When Spot told her he loved her, and had asked to be his girl, she automatically had said yes. Doll knew the consequences now, every single consiquence of being with the infamous King of Brooklyn. There were people you couldn't talk to, places you had to stay away from, and things you couldn't do, at all. There was practically a list of things.

First, she couldnt talk to a lot of guys, Spot would most likely kill most of them, if he didn't know them before hand. You could see it in his eyes sometimes when he was jealous. Second, Doll couldn't go to some places because there was enemies of Spot there. She could get hurt if she went there. and thirdly, she wasn't allowed to drink, or fend for herself. That made her a bit angry. She didn't want a bodyguard. Spot was enough of one when he wasn't even there. He didn't have to.

Sighing again, she heard the rain pounding harder, and sneezed. Doll hoped she wasn't getting sick. If she was getting sick, she was gonna be mad. If she wa sick, she wouldn't be allowed to leave the lodge. Groaning a bit in frustration, she just wanted the rain to end. But for now, she was stuck under the bridge.

[Spot]

Rain.

For Jonathan Conlon, rain brought back bad memories. There was the biggest cliche in all of literature, but for Spot, it was real.

He barely remembered anything about his mother. There was her laugh. That he remembered. But he was only six when she died. There wasn't much to remember. But the night she died, Spot remembered his mother. She had such a high fever, she was delusional. She was mumbling something about California. California. 'It's got blue hills, Johnny. Blue hills. Take me there, will you?' And there was his father. Smiling, through his tears, holding her hand. 'Ya. Blue hills. I'll take you. I promise.' And then she was gone. Just like that. And where had Spot been? In the corner. And he had been crying. Sobbing really. And it was raining. Always raining. when did it stop raining. He would never know after that. It was always so dark inside that house. He never left it. He couldn't.

The night he left it rained. No. The night he left, it poured.

He'd always secretly had a hope that his father wouldn't hit him with the beer bottle. he'd hand it over to him, and let him throw it all away, and he'd tell Spot that he loved him and they could be a family again. he always really did love his dad. It had been a bottle of whiskey that his father had picked that night. The kind with the thick bottle. Spot's future favorite kind to get drunk off of. At this point, he could identify the liquor by his father's breath. And the way he slapped Spot across the room. It finalized his plans. And he ran. Into the slippery, soggy, cold night. All the way to Poplar Street. It was there he found hell just might not be a place called home.

He hurt those who he loved. It happened.

He killed his mother. Making her weak by his birth. She was already frail before it. After on and off being sick, she couldn't make it. He killed his father, emotionally. Spot's mother had mean the world to his father. Without her... Without her.

So Spot worried about Doll.

She had been kidnapped three times since he had known her. And he didn't even rescue her. He wanted to, but he couldn't. He had failed. And he yelled at her. He yelled at everyone. But especially her. He didn't mean to. He didn't want to. But he didn't know how else to protect her. He just didn't.

It had been raining for around two hours. and during those two hours, Doll hadn't come back to the lodge. And was freaking out. He really honest to God couldn't stand it. It was going to drive him mad. He finally made up his mind and left the lodge. He was going to find her.

Docks. Nothing.
Beams. Nothing.
The Usual Kidnapping Spots. Nothing.
O'Brady's. Nothing. Ok, so maybe he had a drink while there. But just three.
All of Hattan. Not a hair.

So this meant one of two things to the paranoid, soaking wet Spot.
1. Doll was dead.
2. Doll was kidnapped.

Neither of these were good options.

He crossed the Brooklyn Bridge again. This was why he didn't let Doll go places alone. this was why! This was why he was always fighting with her, trying to get her to break it up with him. She was in danger. Always, Always in danger.

The rain picked up, and spot clutched the coat he had brought for Doll closer to his chest. He had to find her soon. He looked at the bridge, and dove under it.

He didn't know what he would have done if she wasn't there. "Damn it Doll." He whispered as he approached her. "Where the hell have you been?"

[Doll]

Hearing her name, she looked over at Spot, then back down at the sand. Of course he had been looking for. "I was right here," she muttered, "The sky was cryin' and I dont like it when that happens, so I stayed here." Thinking for a moment, she walked away from the beam, and rested her forhead against Spot's chest, sighing softly. Doll rarely ever called it rain. Her father had told her the story of why the sky was crying, instead of calling it rain, and it just kind of stuck, even if others tried to tell her otherwise.

The story was that a long time ago, the sky and the earth had been together, in love. But in order to keep from crushing the people, they were seperated. The sky would weep for it's lost lover. In a way, she felt like the sky, wanting to be with the earth. Something had seperated them, and Doll still felt seperated from him. There were things she didn't know about him, but he knew a lot about her. He knew she couldn't read, loved climbing beams, and got in bar fights if she ever went to the bar.

All she knew was that his father abused him, he liked to drink, was overprotective and more stubborn than the devil himself. But out of all those things, she actually loved that he was overprotective and stubborn. The overproctiveness saved her sometimes, and the stubborness gave her something to fight against sometimes. But Doll didn't actually like to fight with him, those fights just happened, somehow. Wrapping her arms around Spot's waist, she hugged him, burying her face in his shirt. That was when she smelled it. No matter how much rain fell down, she could smell it.

"Spot... you smell like beer," Doll let go of them, and crossed her arms, looking down. She had asked him to at least try to not drink, but she knew he probably couldn't do that. She had learned to not get her hopes up on that, but still... it hurt. Doll just didn't know what to do about that anymore. It felt like she never knew what was going on with Spot because of alcohol. Hell she didn't know how he could handle drinking something that caused his own father to hurt him, to abuse.

[Spot]

Spot sighed softly. "The sky was cryin..." He remembered Doll telling him that story. He had always thought that when it stormed, some kid was doing something wrong in heaven and getting beat for it. That's why there was thunder. At least, that's what he thought. Honestly he liked her story better. Sometimes after she told him that, he wondered if it was the angels crying down for those who they left behind. Maybe his mother... He remembered, and handed her a jacket. "I brought it for you so you wouldn't get cold."

He could that Doll was thinking hard. He didn't want to disturb her train of thought. He loved it when they were this close, and when she buried her face near his chest. He loved it all...

Until she mentioned the beer.

Spot froze as she moved away. "Doll. It wasn't a lot..." 'Ya, only three whole bottles.' He could hear the voice in his head chastising him. Sure sign of the slow effects of alcohol. 'She loves you. You ban her from drinking, and when she bans you, you ignore her?' He winced. "It's hard Doll. Really hard. Incredibly hard. And I thought you were at O'Brady's."

[Doll]

Doll took the jacket, slipping the sleeves on. The jacket was big on her, but at least it was warm. Now that she thought about it, she had been quite cold. Buttoning it up, she said quietly, "Thanks Spot." She sneezed again, thankfully able to cover her nose quickly. Now she really hoped that she wasn't sick. Knowing Spot, he would easily get protective over that. Normally it nevered bothered her, but if she was sick... then she probably wouldn't be able to go outside for a long, long, very long and not fun time until she was deemed healthy.

Listening to his response, she looked up at him, "Spot, I know it's hard. It's not hard after a while," walking back to him, she put both her hands on his face, got on her tiptoes, and kissed him, pulling away slowly, saying, "It does get easier. It does." Letting go of his face, she got off her tippy toes and wrapped her arms around Spot's kneck, resting her head on his chest, adjusting her head so her ear was against his chest. He always said he didn't have a heart, but she could hear it.

He may not have been able to hear it, but she could. Doll could hear it, but sometimes it would be distant, or close. It all depended. For her, she could stay like that forever, but she wasn't quite sure if Spot could. He could leave her whenever he wanted to. It was pouring now, and it felt like the rain was never gonna stop. Would it ever stop? Something inside her wanted it to never stop, that way she could stay with Spot like this forever. Shutting her eyes tight, she focused on being with Spot.

"Spot?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes, "Why California?" Doll remembered him saying something about California, so it only seemed fitting to ask him about it. Cause she figured, that maybe if she saved enough money, she could get Spot that trip to California for him. If he wanted to go there, Doll would save him the money to get there. It'd take her a while, but hopefully she could. Tomorrow she'd try and find out how much it cost to get there and back, that way she'd have a set goal in mind for the money.

"You dont have to tell me, if you dont want to," she added, moving her arms so they were around Spot's waist, moving her head and burying her face in his shirt, "I was just curious." Doll sighed, letting her thoughts linger, before quietly saying, "Your drenched, you'll get a cold that way." Doll knew there was no way she could convince Spot to let him wear the jacket, but the least she could do was point that out. The waves were crashing against the pillars moe now, creating the familiar roaring sound she had heard as a little kid.

[Spot]

Spot wished he had grabbed a smaller jacket for her. It as a cold stormy night. And he was cold to, but whatever. He winced when she sneezed. "Doll. Are you sick?" He rummaged throw his pocket for something, anything to make her warmer. He took off his top shirt, leaving his undershirt on, and wrung it out. A tremendous amount of water came out of it and he handed it over. "Here. You'll have to stay home for a while." He sighed. "And remember our deal. No objections."

Even though he had lied to her, Doll still forgave him and sometimes it drove him bad. He loved her so much, but he didn't understand why she kept forgiving him. He knew he wanted her too, but somehow he knew it'd be best for her if she didn't. But he didn't say anything. He loved her too much. "I'll try harder. I will." And he was telling the truth. He just didn't know how long a guy could try.

He practically choked when she asked about California. "Somebody... Somebody I once knew always wanted to go..." He could try to tell her. He owed her at least that much. "My mother always want to go. She said something about it having blue hills or something similar. It was... It was a long time ago." He thought about it. "To tell you the truth. I really don't think I want to go. Tear open old wounds. You know?" He sighed softly. "I don't get sick. You know that."

[Doll]

"I dont think I'm sick... Spot I can't take your shirt," Doll replied, saying the last part exasperately. She was about to say more, but stopped herself, knowing she wouldn't win that fight, took his shirt, taking the jacket off and putting on his shirt, buttoning it up and rolling the sleeves up, then putting on the jacket again. It felt like she was wearing too much, but knew the fight was pointless against Spot. In a way, he won more fights than her, cause either he was smarter, stronger, or a mix of both of those.

"That's all I ask," She replied quietly, "That you try." Secretly, Doll was starting to lose hope that Spot would actually quit drinking. It wasn't like she didn't have hope for him, she had a lot of it, but it was slowly, very slowly, drifting away from her. Sometimes it just felt like he was miles away from her, and that he wasn't going to meet up with her somewhere, somehow. There were things that seperated her and Spot; he was overprotective, she wasn't, they were both stubborn to the point where they fought a lot.

And it made her wonder why she loved Spot. But then it became easy to see why; he cared enough to be overprotective and win fights. When Jax and Singer had shot at glass and Doll had gotten cut, and glass shards in her arm, Spot had taken her to the doctor, not caring for his own health. He may not have thought of himself as a hero, but she did. He was her hero. Sure, they got in fights, what couple didnt? But at least she knew Spot had her back whenever she needed him to have her back.

"I know what you mean," She replied quietly, hugging him tighter, "I know exactly what you mean." He may have thought that she didn't, but Doll understood completely. It was how she felt with boats. She loved them, but whenever she went on them there was a pang of sadness in her heart at the fact that neither her dad or Soldier were there. That's why she liked it better when Peep came to visit her, instead of the other way around. "Spot, everyone get's sick," she said, looking up at him, then kissing him on the cheek, "Even invincable men like you."

[Spot]

He shook his head. "Doll, why do you always try to fight with me when you know I'm right. Your wet and sick and you need an extra shirt and if I get sick, so be it." He smiled smugly as she put it on. "Thank you."

Spot looked at Doll's face. "You don't believe me. You really don't." It hurt like a slap. He really did try. But when your girlfriend is missing for the fourth or fifth time and you have not a single flying clue where she is, and you haven't had a beer in a month... Things add up. It gets hard. It didn't help that he had bad connections with alcohol, but he couldn't help but he drawn to it. And every time he drank, it reminded Spot of him and it reminded Spot of Doll, and then he just drank more to drown them out. Why didn't Doll love someone better than him?

"I don't get sick."

[Doll]

Doll looked at Spot, almost pleading, "Spot, I do believe you. Dont think like that, I do, honestly. Please dont think like that, please." It was really no use telling him that. He knew her too well. Sighing, she looked at Spot sadly, "How do I know I can trust you saying I'll try everytime I'm not in Brooklyn? You are the strongest person I know, the strongest! Yet your one weakness is the one thing that got you hurt." She knew that beer was his weakness, no one had to tell her that at all, they never.

The only thing gave Spot was stress. She knew after being kidnapped all the time, and with the fights they got in, which were really more than little fights. Sometimes Doll didn't know why she even would come back. But then she'd remember. Love. Loving Spot was the hardest thing. You had to be careful with everything you did. Literally, everything. Looking at Spot, she realized that he was only wearing an undershirt. 'Damnit,' she thought, noting how muscular he was, 'Why does he have to be so strong?' Well, he was ripped, when the hell did that happen!

Realizing what she was doing, she looked down quickly, coughing nervously and looking around quickly, trying to hide the blush that had crept onto her face. Ok, maybe she had seen other guys in only undershirts, and guys who didn't wear shirts, but that was because of swimming and they were like brothers, or uncles, but Spot... he was practically godly. Doll had been checking him out, she could have slapped herself for checking him out. That was girly of her to do. Not that it mattered to her, but... Brooks couldn't act girly, it wasn't tough.

[Spot]

Spot stared at Doll. "Don't you lie to me. You don't trust me Doll. You don't even think I can." He turned away form her. After how hard he had tried for her. After all the night he had spent brewing coffee because she had gotten in a bar fight and was drunk and was going to have a killer hangover in the morning, so he was charged with brewing for her. After all the times when he had protected her, comforted her. After he had spilled out his heart to her. He has one flaw. Its a major flaw, but one flaw all the same and he's the devil?

"How do you know Doll? How you do know? You trust me!" He was already a little drunk, but the way that she was criticizing him was upsetting him. He didn't even notice her looking at him. "Jesus Doll."

[Doll]

"Spot, please," she stepped forward, hugging him tightly from behind, "Please I dont want to fight," she shutted her eyes tightly, "I trust you. I trust you so much. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. I don't want to fight, Spot, I dont." Doll felt awful. She should never had said anything. Now she was afraid to open her eyes, afraid she would cry. She didn't want to cry for Spot. But... he really was the only one she could cry for. She couldn't cry for Soldier or her dad, only for Spot.

Damnit why did they have to fight now!? She remembered when she realized that she loved Spot. It was after Soldier died, and Spot had been there for her. Doll added, "Spot, I love you, so freaking much. I'd fight for you, lie for you, your always right and I'm always to stubborn to admit it. Please... I dont want to fight," she added the last part almost beggingly. No matter what, she wasn't going to let go of Spot, no matter how much he told her to, she wouldn't let go of him, she'd never let go.

To seal the deal on what she had said, she kissed him, she didn't care if it was on his back, she didn't care that she couldn't look him in the eyes then, she had to let him know. Doll had too. Even if he didn't believer her right then and there, she meant every word she said right then. Even if he didn't care, she had to know that he had at least heard her, and had aknowledged her what she thought of him. And hopefully she didn't have to fight him. Not today, at least.

[Spot]

Spot was still upset. He squirmed, and she was hugging him but he was still ticked. Drunk, and cranky, and unsure. He tore away. "No! You can't just lie to me and hug me and make me feel better! Don't try to pull that crap on me!" He stepped away, placing his hands by his head, looking disgusted. "And maybe I wanna fight huh! Just ignoring the fact that you said anything, is that how this relationship works?"

He closed his eyes. His head was swimming. What could he be getting into with marriage. If they fought while being engaged, what would they do when they were married. If she didn't trust him now, how could she expect her to trust him later. "And what Doll. ACt like we have no problems. I've got problems! I come with baggage! If you can't handle that, then I don't know what your commiting for. And you can't trust me? What do we have if you don't trust m." He couldn't look at her. He was a bit digusted

[Doll]

Now Doll was getting angry, she opened her eyes, looking at Spot angrily and hurt, "You think I dont know that! I know, Spot, I'm reminded every. freaking. day," she grounded through her teeth, "Spot I trust you, whether you like it or not. You can call me a liar, I. dont. care. I dont know how our relationship works Spot," Doll shook her head, screaming, "I dont know!" by now angry tears were welling up in her eyes, and she replied quieter, looking down at the ground, watching rain make marks in the sand where it landed, "I dont know."

Doll took off the jacket silently, and then Spot's shirt, walking over and handing it over to him, "It's somewhat dry now," she told him, quietly, not trusting herself to speak louder, and then took a step back, hanging her head, "Now you can yell. Scream at me. You know you want too, I'm ready now. Go on, scream." Spot's screaming had become something she was used to. Honestly she had given up the fight at winning against him. At the moment... it wasn't worth it. Doll had slipped up. It just wasn't worth the fight anymore.

"Spot, I know you think I'm lyng right now, but I do love you," she whispered, looking at her hands, staring at the jacket. Even if she wore it Doll would still feel cold. She didn't want to end up like Bear and Tootsie. Doll didn't want to lose Spot. If she lost him... she didn't know what she'd do. Go to Queens maybe, or Staten. Stay there for a while, if Spot didn't want her back... she didn't know then. It seemed like she knew nothing lately.

[Spot]

Spot begin to feel guilty. He was no peachy person in the morning. He was the one drinking, and fighting all the time. He was the one who had really initiated the fight. He was just causing trouble for Doll. He was causing problems and messing up the relationship that they made. It was all his...

Wait! She had started the big deal about the beer, and everything was such a big deal to her apparently. She was the one wanting him to yell. It was her fault. And she knew how to make him feel very guilty, and she was doing it to him on overload.

"No! This isn't my fault, Adan your not going to sit here and look sad while I yell at you! No, because your not that pathetic. You know you could beat me up if you wanted to. So put the jacket and the shirt back on and yell at me like you want too!" He didn't know what was wrong with him. His brain kept on telling him to shut up, but he couldn't stop.

[Doll]

Doll shook her head, her voice cracking a little, "Spot, I'm not gonna scream. I know I was wrong. I know I'm the one who started this, I'm just gonna take it," she looked up at him, "If you need to yell, just do it now. I know I was wrong for lying to you. I know I'm wrong for getting mad, Spot I know your angry at a lot of things. Just yell at me, I know you need someone to vent to and if yelling at me helps you," She swallowed what felt like a lump in her throat, "Then yell at me."

Doll didnt' know why she was doing this. She wasn't under the bridge now, she was out in the rain, she didn't want the jacket either. If the sky was gonna cry, she was going to feel it's tears. At the moment she didn't care that she was getting drenched by the second, she just stood there, waiting for Spot to yell at her. "I can't beat you up, and I cant win," she said, "The fight is only worth it if the prize is good. The prize for being mad at you isnt worth it at all."

Sure, Doll was probably sounding really cliche lovey dovey. But she was telling the truth.