Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Friday- July 21, 1899

"Aye, Josie?"

"What da ya want?" I said turning to my brother, peering into his ice cold eyes that matched mine. Dirty blonde hair dusted his forehead, as mine fell down to my shoulders. The height difference between us annoyed him, as it would with any older sibling. Spot Conlon was the King of Brooklyn, and I was just his kid sister.

"I'se been gettin' word that the 'Hattan newsies are on strike. An' guess who started it?" Spot crossed his arms. With a lopsided smirk on his face he said, "Our ol' fen' Jacky-boy."

"Cowboy's at it again. Always the trouble maker," I said, shaking my head and grinning. I turned back to the view infront of me. The Manhattan skylines stretched as far as the eye could see.

“He’s the trouble maker?”

"Oh don’t start, Spot,” I said with an eyeroll. Overprotective brothers are so cliche . “Do ya think they'll be comin' here to ask for Brooklyn's help?"

He scoffed. "’Course. We'se the Conlons. I'se bettin' they'll be here by the hour." As he said that our best spy, a shorter kid known as Bucks, came in. Spinning to face him, Spot gestured for him to step into the room. The Conlon name carried an air of power with it.

"Uh... Spot? Josie? Jack Kelly an' a few of his boys be comin' our way." 

"Thanks, Bucks." My brother turned back to me. "What I tell ya? You comin’?”

"Of course, Spot." I just hope Skittery don't have the nerve to come. We walked out onto the dock together and climbed up the tower of crates. A throne for the king and queen.

"If it ain't Jack-be-nimble, Jack-be-quick." Spot called out to Jack, as he walked in sight, ducking under a beam. Behind him was Boots, a boy I didn’t know, and Skittery. I couldn't help rolling my eyes but I did applaud Skittery for his courage, and blatant disrespect.

"I see ya moved up in the world, Spot. Got a river view an' everythin'.” Jack said then turned looking up at me. “Hiya, Sweetheart,” he said with a smirk and a wink.

“Hey Cowboy,” I responded with an equally mischievous smirk and a wink back. 

"Heya, Boots," Spot said, feeling left out. "How's it rollin'?"

Boots stuck out his hand, full of marbles. "I got a couple a' good shooters here." Spot jumped down from the throne, took a marble out of his hand, and put it in his own slingshot.

"I'se been hearing thing’ from little birds… Thins' from Harlem, Queens, all over.” He aimed up at a bottle on a rafter and released the marbel. The stranger jumped back as the glass shattered and put his fists up in a fighting stance. I smirked as I climbed down after Spot. “They'se been chirpin' in my ear. Sayin' Jacky-boy's Newsies is playing like they'se goin' on strike."

"Yeah, well we are," Jack said. I stalked towards the group, wary of the situation. Spot had yet again forgotten to mention some key details of this so-called strike to me. Skittery still hadn't said a word but was looking around, anywhere but me.

The stranger daringly inched closer to Spot. "But we're not playing. We are going on strike."

I got up in his face. "Oh yeah? Yeah?" Turning to Jack I said, "What is this, Kelly? Some kind of walking mouth?" 

"Yeah, it's a mouth, Jo," said Jack, frowning a bit. "A mouth with a brain, and if ya got half a one, you'se gonna listen to what he's gotta say."

"Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to Newsies all around the city,” the mouth continued. What a ninny, I thought.

Spot glanced at me, echoing my thoughts. "Yeah, so they told me. But what'd they tell you?"

"They're waiting to see what the Conlons are doing, you're the key. That Spot and Josie Conlon are the most respected and famous Newsies in all of New York, and probably everywhere else." Bootlicker. "And if the Conlons join the strike, then they’ll join, and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean... well, you just gotta!" The boy seemed about to collapse, with fear or excitement I wasn’t too sure.

"You're right Cowboy, brains.” I turned to look at Jack, who had backed away a few steps and put his hat on. “But we'se got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do we know ya punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do we know ya got what it takes to win?" They all looked at me, seemingly disappointed by my response, especially Skits. I smirked back at them.

"Because I'm telling ya, Jo," Jack pleaded.

"That ain't good enough Jacky-boy. You gotta show us," Spot argued. He clapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kelly. We want to help, really, but it ain’t worth it for us just yet.” The other three boys walked away, mopping. Skittery looked back one last time, with wide eyes. Was he expecting a heartfelt reunion?

Hitting the brim of Spot’s hat Jack said smiling, “I know, Spotwood.” My brother groaned and hit Jack’s hand away from him.

As Spot moved away, Jack brushed pased him. Running up to me, Cowboy wrapped me in a hug. I laughed quietly as I hugged him back.

“I’se gonna leave da two of ya alone,” Spot said with an eye roll. I stuck my tongue out at him as he walked away. 

After a minute, I said in a sing-song voice, “Jacky…You can let go now.” He squeezed me impossibly closer and snuggled his head into the crook of my neck with a grunt. I laughed again and kept my arms around his neck. “You okay?” I asked. I felt a nod.

He pulled away saying, “I just missed ya, Conlon.” I rolled my eyes at him.

“You saw me last week.”

“Yeah, too long ago,” he huffed. I threw my head back laughing. Jack’s eye sparkled with mirth, then turned a little darker. “Are you okay? Ran into Synder? Had any nightmares?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“No run-ins. But the nightmares get worse witout ya, Cowboy. I-”

Jack cut me off, grabbed my hand, and started playing with my fingers. “Come back wit me, Sweetheart.”

“Ya know I can’t Jack.”

“The boys miss ya- I miss ya.”

“I gotta stay here and help Spot out,” I argued. Liar , my mind fought.

“You could help me out more,” Jack said hopefully, looking into my eyes.

“He’s my brudda.”

“Oh and I’se chopped liva’?” He let go of my hand with a scowl. 

“C’mon Kelly, you know I’m right.”

“Don’t mean I like it.” 

“Jack! C’mon!” the walking mouth called out. Still a bootlicker.

“Yeah I’se a comin’!” Jack responded, then turned back to me. “This ain't over, Conlon. I’ll see ya after the strike settles.” He quickly ruffled my hair and started walking away.

“Hey! You’se gonna see me before that if you're serious about da strike!” I yelled after him, my face turning a warm shade of pink. He turned his head around and smiled at me while waving. I waved back and watched him till he was out of sight. 

I went into one of the buildings on the dock and up onto the roof, looking for my brother. Up there were a few blankets and a trunk, but no Spot. Who knows where he is? Always leaving you behind. I climbed back down to the bathroom and filled a barrel with water. I looked into the reflection.

All I saw was me. A wrinkled shirt with rolled up sleeves. Pants that were two sizes too big. Icy blue eyes with a hint of green in them. Dirty blond hair in tangled braids. Sullen checks caked with dirt, lined with a bruise on my jaw from a fight. On my temple, a scare I got from the Refuge. That was me, Josie Conlon, Queen of Brooklyn. No one important.

Just a girl in love with her best friend.

Chapter Text

Friday- July 21, 1899

I gasped awake as echoes of a nightmare rang throughout the pitch black night. I could hear my heart pounding, and the sound of someone walking around on the ground. The hell? I threw off my blanket and walked to the edge of the roof. Seeing nothing I climbed, silently, to the ground. 

Peaking around the nearest corner, my eyes widened in surprise. It was Skittery. I thought he was too much of a coward to come here again. Whatever he wants, it's probably not good. Steeling myself with a deep breath, I walked out.

"What do ya want, Skittery?" He whipped around in surprise, acting like he wasn’t looking for me in the first place.

"I-I'se don't know." Idiocy runs rampant in Manhattan.

"What do ya mean ya don't know? You gotta be here for a reason?" I ran a hand over my face and took a step forward.

"There was a brawl. Crutchy....he's in the Refuge." He looked out, the reflection of the East River dancing in his eyes. "I guess I came ta try an' convince ya to join the strike. I'se seein' now that that was a mistake."

"They got Crutchy?" I asked again, concerned. He just nodded in confirmation. I leaned against some crates that were close to us. "If Crutchy's gone then… I dunno. He's like my best friend.” I could feel tears coming on but I quickly blinked them away, looking out at the water. Pull yourself together Conlon. “How's Jack holdin' up?"

"Not good.” Skittery shook his head. “He's been blamin' himself for Crutchy bein' taken. Him and Davey, the walkin' mouth, went an' talked to him at the Refuge. The Delancey bruddas beat him real good."

"Imma soak 'em." I sat up all the way, rolling up my sleeves. "Those dirty, rotten sons of a-" His hand on my shoulder stopped me. Oh hell no. I took a step back and threw a frown at Skittery.

"Aye, calm down, Princess.”

“You have no right to call me that,” I fully turned to him with a scoff. Skittery put his hands up in surrender.

“We'll get 'em for Crutchy. I promise.” He continued as if nothing happened. “But Jack's gonna get reckless. He's gonna do somethin' dangerous tomorrow, so we needs you'se help. I-"

"You'se guys can count on Brooklyn,” I cut him off. “But only for Crutchy." And me, Jack whispered in my head.

"Thanks, Josie." He rubbed the back of his neck. "An’ about what happened last time I saw ya...." My eyes went dark. Tough it out.

"I'se don't wanna talk about it. Goodnight, Skittery." I turned and started up the fire escape, leaving him alone, just as he left me once upon a time.

~

Saturday- July 22, 1889

This time I woke up to a sunrise. And terrible singing.

"Spot. Shut ya mouth, would ya?" 

"Neva'!" he yelled and started singing louder. I groaned, rolled over, and covered my ears with a pillow.

"My lovey-dovey baby, I boo hoo hoo for you!" Now I was mumbling the song as I got dressed for the day. 

It’s a surprise he even showed up, I thought remembering last night with Skittery. What a toad. But then remembering Crutchy being taken made me mad for a different reason. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Aye, Spot?" I asked, pulling a clean shirt over my head.

"Hmm?" He hummed in response as he combed his hair. Not like it needs to look good, he always wears that stupid hat.

"Crutchy got takin' to da Refuge yesterday after a brawl the 'Hattan newsies had. I'se thinkin' that they ain't kindin'." I buttoned my shirt up.

"How'd ya know this, Josie?" Spot turned to me with a knowing smile.

I smirked. "Little birds don’t just tell you things. I am the Queen of Brooklyn y’know. Anyway, Jack blames himself an’s gonna need our help." 

"Fine. Let's join a strike, what we got ta lose?"

I gave him a quick hug, grinning. "Thanks I owe ya one. I'll round up the boys."

~

An hour later we were hiding around the distribution center of The World. In record time you made it to save us idiots. Spot and I, as well as many others, were hiding on the roofs of the surrounding buildings.

"Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!" I heard Jack say from outside the gates.

All the Manhattan newsies came running in, screaming. They banged against some wooden doors on the other side of the distribution center. These doors opened to reveal some scabbers. Each had a club or chain to use as a weapon, growling at the newsies.

Morris Delancey came out saying, "Hey, Jacky-boy." He backed Jack down the stairs and into a group of scabs. Jack looked around, confused and annoyed. Morris swung a chain at Jack, but he dodged it. The gates closed with a thud, enclosing us all in.

Right as Jack was pushed into the stairs, Spot gave Brooklyn the sign. Go save some Manhattan ass. They stood up one by one till me and Spot jumped onto the fire escape.

Spot grinned. "Neva' fear..."

"Brooklyn is here!" I finished for him. 

There were choruses of "It's Brooklyn!" all around the distribution center, as Spot shot a marble at a scab. That was all it took for the rest of the Brooklyn newsies to fire too.

Manhattan newsies who were getting beaten were now beating the scabs up. Some were winning, some were… trying but the tables turned. Boots kneed a guy in the stomach then gave him a mean right hook. Mush ran through a wagon of newspapers to escape another one.

Racetrack sat down on the stairs leading up to the distribution center saying to a scab, "All right, I give up." He then kneed him in the crotch.

"Aye Spot, Jo!" Jack waved at us. My brother rode down on a pulley, kicking some scabbers off of Blink. King of Brooklyn? I scoffed, More like a drama king. I jumped down on one of the carts, while Jack and Spot spit-shook. I grinned, punching a guy in the nose.

I was surrounded by fighting. Scabbers were getting beaten all around me. I saw Racetrack stomp on a guy's toe while Blink elbowed another. Then Skittery got punched off the stairs and landed with some newsies to catch him.

"Are you all right?" Davey asked. Skittery winked at me and was propelled forward and punched a scabber in the face. I laughed but was cut short by a scab coming up to me.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asked.

"Aww, you think I’m pretty?" I asked with a faux grin. What an ass. I punched him right in the face. 

"You shouldn't have done that." He started backing me up into a group of scabbers. My back crashed into someone and saw it was Jack.

"Ya remember the time with Snyder by Medda’s?" 

"Yeah?" I responded, confused. I dodged another punch thrown my way.

“This reminds me of that,” Jack answered, pulling me away from the scabs. 

“You and I remember that night very differently,” I rolled my eyes as we climbed up to a wagon. The rest of the Brooklyn newsies came in through the gate, being led by Spot. They charged the scabbers and pushed them back to where they came from. 

Newsies were cheering all around us as we all met up on the stairs. Boys were sliding down the ramps and high fiving each other. Jack ripped a newspaper in half, then gave Davey a hug. A rich-looking guy came up and said, "Jack! Boys! Freeze!" I took Jack's cowboy hat off his head and put it on mine and grinned. There was a snap and the picture was taken.

“Give me that!” Jack demanded as he ripped his hat off my head and put it on his own. I scowled and shoved him away from me. The rich looking guy called up to Jack. He turned to me. “I gotta go an’ talk to Denton, but I’ll see ya later right?”

“Yeah, I’ll see ya tomorrow!” I called after him. I ran over to Spot who was talking to Racetrack. "I'se gonna go back ta Brooklyn. See ya later."

"'Kay, be careful," He yelled back.

"Aren't I always," I said with a wink, shoving my way out of the distribution center.

I wasn't really going to Brooklyn but that wasn't any of his concern. Manhattan had once been my home more than Brooklyn. You know this city like the back of your hand. I walked through crowds of people to get to the Hudson River. 

Sitting down by the banks, I stared into the blue water thinking. The memory of the last time I had seen all the Manhattan newsies together floated out of the back of my mind.

I ran into the lodging house, crying for the first time since the Refuge. That they'd seen , my mind admitted. Lots of the newsies called my name as I climed up to the rooftop. Mush quickly followed me.

"Aye, Queenie. What's the matter?" He came running up to me. All I could do was cry. "Aye, it's okay. It's okay." He put both his hands on my shoulders. 

"No it’s not. He...he promised he'd always be 'der for me. 'An what'd he do? He went 'an kissed annuda girl. Why?"

"Who'd he kiss, Queenie?"

"Violet."

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I hated thinking about that day, about a year ago. You’re not as tough as they think you are. Whenever I saw the Manhattan newsies the memories came flooding back.

I jumped, hearing familiar voices. Looking around for somewhere to hide, I saw a vendor selling flowers. I stood and pretended to admire some roses.

"Come on, Samuel. Please?"

"No one can call me that, 'cept Josie." Hearing my name, I looked through the bushes to see Skittery and the filthy scabber I called my friend, Violet. Son of a bitch.

Violet wrinkled her nose saying, "Why are you still hung up on her? She's a filthy street rat."

"The 'filthy street rat' ya talkin' 'bout was my girl."

"Key word was."

"Looky here Violet. Ya had my sister to hang over my head. But now she's gone 'an ya can't make me stay away from Josie or break her again. Ain't gonna happen." My mouth was hanging open. So that's why he kissed her, I thought, What the hell?

"Come on, Sam. Let me be your girl, please?"

"No. Now leave." 

Violet looked at him with disgust in her eyes then said, "You will regret this Samuel Hudson!"

"Whateva'." Skittery ran a hand through his hair as she ran away. "I know ya there, Princess. Come on over here." I stepped around the cart.

"How...? Ya know what? Not even gonna ask. But… but are ya okay?"

"Fine, just peachy." Skitter scoffed as he looked out at the river. 

"I'm sorry 'bout Abby."

"I ain't ya fault, it's mine."

"What happened?" I slowly walked closer to him as he continued to look out at the Hudson.

"A fire at the boardin' house she was stayin' at. She was the only one who didn't make it out."

"How's that your fault?"

"If I wasn't out wit' Violet she would a been wit' me." Oh, no.

"'Cause you went out with Violet doesn't mean ya sister died 'cause of ya." I argued with him. 

"Yeah, I think it does."

"Skittery! Don't ya eva' blame ya self for Abby's death. Eva'!" I hit him on the arm, hard.

"Why?" He sighed. His voice was filled with so much resignation. Oh no, oh no.

"Skits, look at me." His head turned to look me in the eye. "You can’t blame yourself when everything goes to shit. It ain’t your fault. And if it was ya fault, which it ain’t, I'm sure ya sister forgives ya. I forgive ya too," I rubbed the back of my neck, "For kissin' Violet. But I just wanna be friends." A rare smile shown across Skittery’s face.

"That's okay with me, Josie."

Chapter Text

Sunday- July 23, 1899

"Hey fellas!" The rich-looking man from the day before, Denton, came walking into Tibby's with something in his hand. All the boys started saying hi back to him. “Big time!” He threw whatever he had in front of Jack.

"What'cha got there, Jack?" Mush asked, craining his neck to see. The boys started crowding around him, vying for attention.

"Where's me picta'? Where's me picta'?"

"Aye, what is that? Is it all 'bout us?"

"Aye, look at ya, Jack. Ya look like a gentleman or somethin'," Mush said, shoving his finger at the picture.

"Get ya figures off my face, would ya?" Jack pushed Mush's figures away.

"Where does it say my name?" "Where's my name?" Spot and I grinned at each other as we spoke at the same time. Power comes with the Conlon name. Power also comes with the Kelly name, Jo.

"Aye, would ya quit thinkin' about you'se selves," Jack scowled, pulling the picture away from us. 

"Wow, you got us on the front page!" Davey was grinning at Denton.

"You got yourselves on the front page. We just gotta make sure you stay there," I heard Denton respond from where I had sat besides Jack.

"So what? Ya get ya picture in the pape. So what does that get ya? Huh?" Skittery asked from behind us. Everyone started yelling at him.

"Aye, what'cha talkin' about? Huh?" Mush hit him.

"Shut up! You've been in a bad mood all day," Jack argued, turning to glare at him.

"I ain’t in a bad mood!" he insisted.

"Glum and dumb," Race said softly slapping his face. "What's the matter with ya?” He turned to look at the rest of us. “You in the papes and you'se famous! When ya famous ya get anythin' ya want. That's what's so great 'bout New York!" He’s right up there with Spot with the drama king title, no wonder they’re such good friends. All the newsies around him started agreeing. 

Some of the boys climbed on to the tables while others sat back down. I rolled my eyes at them. Here we go. Mush sat and started singing, “A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces,”

“A permanent box at the Sheepshead race,” Race walked over to him, making a fist and hitting his other hand.

Spot added his idea in between them. “A porcelain tub with boilin' water,”

“A Saturday night with the mayor's daughter!” Blink finished, jumping on a table with a loud thud. 

Race jumped on the table opposite Blink, tapping his feet with the newspaper in hand. “Look at me! I'm the King of New York! Suddenly I'm respectable, starin' right 'attcha lousy with stat'cha.” 

Jack joined in, standing and grabbing the newspaper. “Nubbin' with all the muckety-muck, I'm blowin' my dough and goin' deluxe.” He laid down on the table. I took the paper out of his hand, opened it, and pointed to myself. 

“Then there is be! Ain't I pretty…” I sang.

“It's my city. I'm the king of New York!” Jack and I joined together as he sat up and put his arm over my shoulders. All of a sudden, every boy was up and trying to get the paper from us as I tried to get away.

“C’mon don’t rip it!” I exclaimed, shoving my elbow into the people behind me..

“Yeah! She said don’t rip it!” pushed Jack.

Across the room, Boots started singing again with, “A corduroy suit with fitted knickers.” 

A younger boy, who had introduced himself as Les, Davey’s younger brother, continued, “A mezzanine seat to see the flickers,”

Snipeshooter added, “Havana cigars that cost a quarter,”

“An editor's desk for the star reporter!” interrupted Davey, sliding a chair towards Denton.

“Tip your hat, he's the King of New York!” We all sang together and some boys pushed Denton down onto the chair. 

“How 'bout that? I'm the King of New York!” Denton sang as the newsies lifted him up in his chair. Someone threw a red table cloth over his shoulders. 

Us newsies continued, “In nothin' flat, he'll be coverin' Brooklyn to Trenton. Our man Denton.” Blink jumped on the table right where I had sat, scaring me.

“Makin' a headline outta a hunch,” he sang.

“Protectin' the weak,” Denton continued.

With an eye roll, I interrupted him. “And payin' for lunch.”

Denton stood up singing, “When I'm at bat, strong men crumble.”

“Proud yet humble, he's the King of New York,” Race sang, pushing Denton into his seat.

“I gotta be either dead or dremin',” We crowded around Denton. “‘Cause look at that pape with my face beamin'.” We turned away then whipped our heads back. “Tomorrow they may wrap fishes in it but I was a star for one whole minute!” Everyone was jumping or dancing round the room. Some others were tap dancing on the tables. Jack grabbed me and we started spinning around the room. I tipped my head back laughing as he held tight onto my waist.

“Startin' now I'm the King of New York!” We continued signing. 

Denton echoed us, jumping on a table. “Ain't ya heard I'm the King of New York!”

“Holy cow! It's a miracle, Pulitzer cryin'. Weasel? He's dyin'!” Jack let go of me and sat next to Denton, stomping and clapping. I slid over to Spot and grabbed his arm as we continued, “Flash Pots are shooting bright as the sun. I'm one hifalutin' sonuva' gun! Don't ask me how, fortune found me. Fate just crowned me.” Jack, Denton, and Davey shook hands with the boys across from them. 

“I'm the King of New York. Look and see. Once a piker, now a striker. I'm the King of New York. Victory! Front page story, guts and glory.” Bumlets grabbed onto a fan and started spinning. “I'm the King…of New York!” Bumlets jumped down from the fan, while the rest of us cheered. Jack hit Davey with the newspaper, then they shook hands. 

As everyone calmed down, Jack stood up and said, "So let's have some ideas.” Everyone was crowded around a table with Jack, Davey, Denton, and me in the center. 

"Well," Davey looked at us standing next to each other, "We need to show people where we stand."

"Yeah, we need to stay in the papes." I agreed. 

"My paper's the only one printing strike news so far," Denton admitted.

"So we need to do somthin' so big the other papers would feel stupid if they tried to ignore us,” Jakc said. The other boys agreed with him.

"Like a rally?" offered Davey, with a thoughtful frown.

"Yeah! Like a newsies rally! With all the kids from all over New York,” Spot exclaimed.

 “We'll make it the biggest, loudest, noisiest blowout this town has eva' seen!" Jack continued. There was cheering all around us. Denton started passing out drinks.

"It'll send a message to the big boys," I said.

“I’ll give ‘em a message,” Race added, pounding his fist again.

"Yeah, there's a lot of us and we ain't going away. We'll fightin' till damn doomsday if it means we get a fair shake,'' Jack stated. Cheering echoed across the restaurant again.

“I’ll fight to that!” Spot exclaimed.

"Hey, you guys!" Davey lifted up his cup. "To our man, Denton."

"To our man, Denton!" We all yelled.

"We need time ta plan this thing, right? So hows 'bout tomorrow night? We'se need ta get the word out," I stated.

"Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow is good," Jack waved everyone away and began to give out assignments. Our fearless strike leader.

~

That night, as Spot and I started walking back to Brooklyn, I decided to go to the Manhattan newsies’ lodging house instead. I walked in to see boys scattered around the entryway making signs for the strike. A few of them said hi to me. I slipped to the back of the crowd, just watching. Pie-Eater stood on one side of Kloopma’s desk painting. 

“So did I spell it right, Kloopman?” he asked. “Strike,” he said with a grin. Kloopman nodded in approval. I started looking around for Jack.

“Yeah… very good! I like it,”  Kloopman said back to Pie-eater, a smile evident in his voice. “Excuse me? Can I help you?” I heard Kloopman ask. The boys started crowding in front of me.

“You have a boy who calls himself Jack Kelly? I wish to see him.” I heard a familiar voice ask. Kloopman looked down, confused.

“Jack Kelly? Jack- Never heard of him… Never heard of him. Hey, any of you boys ever heard of Jack Kelly?”

“That’s an unusual name for these parts,” Specs said from the stairs. I tried to push through the group of boys in front of me to see if Synder was really here. Jack came up behind me and grabbed the back of my shirt.

“What the hell Josie?” he whispered, “Trying to have all the fun without me?” I shushed him and grabbed his hand. We ran behind Synder grinning. Blink opened a closet door for us and we jumped in. 

“Oh you mean Jack Kelly,” Race trailed off as I quietly shut the closet door. Jack tried to crack the door a little.

“Kelly,” I hissed. “Get your ass in here.” I pulled at his rope belt. Our breaths mingled as he turned to me. I could barely make out his face in the dim light. “This closet is tiny,” I mumbled, looking around. Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, I chanted. A piece of my hair fell in front of my face. Before I could do anything about it, Jack's hand moved up and tucked it behind my ear. Oh shit.

“Yeah it is,” he agreed, dropping his hand with a short, breathy laugh. His face turned serious. “How’d Synder find me?”

“I dunno, Jack.” I kinda can’t think anymore, thanks!

“Does he know you’se here?” He asked, searching my eyes with worry. I shook my head, answering him and clearing the fog from my brain.

“He didn’t see me.” At my response, Jack sighed in relief. I tried to take a step back but I tripped over something on the floor. I thought I was going to fall to the ground but I never hit it. I felt Jack's hand wrap around my wrist, yanking me upright. He pulled me close to him. Our eyes meet. He reached out his hand and traced the bruise on my jaw. I stood frozen. Oh shit.

“Sweetheart, I-” He was cut off by the door opening. We jumped back from each other as much as we could. 

“Snyder’s in the back with Kloopman,” Blink said, turning to us. “Let’s get you’se back upstairs.” Jack and I ran, as quietly as we could, to the stairs and then up them. As soon as we got there, I left the two boys and ran to the bathroom. 

I closed one of the doors behind me and leaned my forehead against it. I couldn’t help but remember mine and Jack’s interaction in the closet. You’re dreaming, that’s it. There’s no way in hell that just happened. My heart was pounding. I took a couple of deep breaths and stepped out of the stall.

I walked into the giant bedroom and saw most of the boys had come back upstairs, having scared Snyder off. "Boo!" I yelled as loud as I could, making some boys fall off their beds.

"Hey, Queenie!" Snotty yelled, as I laughed my head off at Jack laying on the floor. He had been one of the ones I had scared off the beds.

"Aye, Queenie! Come beat Race at poker!" Mush called me over to their circle. It was Race, Mush, Bink, and now Jack and I.

"She can't beat me. I'se the best!" Racetrack protested.

"I can beat ya anytime, anywhere Racy," I challenged with a smirk. Try it, Higgins. He scoffed.

"Prove it."

"I'se wouldn't do that if I'se was ya, Race. She's pretty good," Blink piped up.

"Nah it's okay, Blink. I'se gonna let him win," I said, shooting Jack a wink from beside me. "Anyone else wanna play?" 

"Deal me in." Skittery plopped next to me.

"Ohh. Skittery ya playin' with the big boys here. Ya sure?" Jack asked him.

"Positive," he said, sending me a grin. I was gonna get creamed.

~

Three hours, two newsies insisting I was cheating, and a rematch later, I had won two bucks.

"I win!" I yelled as best as I could. All the boys awake cheered while Race grumbled. 

"That's my girl," Jack said, shoving his elbow into my side with a smile and taking his cigarette out of my mouth.

"Hey! I was usin’dat! And I ain't ya girl, Kelly." Yet.

“Not yet you ain’t.” Jack, somehow reading my mind, grinned at me again with a puff of smoke. I rolled my eyes in protest but my cheeks turned a little pink, involuntarily. Chin up Jo. By now half the boys were asleep. Either on their beds or the floor. I yawned and it became contagious.

"We'se better get ta bed. Night guys." Racetrack stood and went to his bed.

Mush was the next one to get up. "Night, Race. Night, Jack an' the rest of ya." 

"Night, Mush," I said. Me, Jack, Skittery, and Blink were still on the floor.

"Where ya gonna sleep, Queenie?" Blink asked.

"On the roof of course."

"Ya can have my bed," Skittery offered.

"Nah, I'se good. I like the fresh air." Oh hell no, ain’t no way. 

"At least let me help ya bring blankets up there."

"Okay," I said, shrugging. Watch it Skittery.

“I’ll be up in a second!” Jack called after me, cleaning up the rest of the cards.

Me and Skits each grabbed a blanket and went through the window. I climbed up the fire escape with Skittery following closely behind me. When we reached the top, we dropped the blankets on the floor.

"I'se been meanin' ta talk ta ya. Thanks for comin' an' savin' our lives, Princess," Skittery said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I already told you, don't call me Princess." Here we go again.

“Sorry, I just wanted to ask ya-” I cut him off again.

“Skittery, we’se just friends. I already told ya this!” I exclaimed, pulling at my hair.

“But-”

“Skittery,” Jack interrupted. “Leave. Now.” Overprotective Spot Conlon? Meh. Overprotective Jack Kelly? Hell yeah. Skits just nodded and climbed back down to the boarding house. Jack turned to me. “Are you okay?” I shook my head as tears all of a sudden threatened to fall down my cheeks. Jack was next to me in a second. He reached for me and I snaked my arms around his waist, crying. 

“I dunno what’s wrong wit me, Jack,” I sniffled into his chest. I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “I dunno why I’m cryin’.” 

“Jo, Sweetheart, nothins’ wrong wit you…you’se exhausted. Let’s get you to bed,” prompted Jack. I let him lead me to the pile of blankets, hand in hand. As I sat down, Jack turned to go over to his own pile. I pulled on his hand and he looked back at me. 

“Stay?” I asked in a quiet voice. Searching my eyes for a second, he lightly smiled. 

“Always.” He laid down next to me. I followed suit and looked up at the stars, Jack’s hand clasped tightly in my own. I’m so done for.

Chapter Text

Monday- July 24, 1899

The rising sun sent light dancing across my face, waking me up. My face rested on top of Jack's hand, still intertwined with my own. We were facing each other. Almost as if it was involuntarily, my other hand brushed away some hair that was in front of his eyes. Don't wake me up. 

I slowly sat up and released Jack’s hand. Pushing my hair back from my face, I stood. I strenched my arms up and then sat at the edge of the roof, my legs dangling over the street. A million thoughts raced through my head, I couldn’t seem to hold on to just one. Moments later, a voice pulled me out of my reverie. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jack asked as he sat down next to me.

I turned to look at him saying, “I didn’t mean to wake you. Sorry.”

“Ya didn’t. My body still thinks it’s gonna be selling papes this mornin’,'' He said with a quiet laugh. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. We both turned to look at Manhattan, waking from its slumber.

After a minute or two of silence I spoke up. “Do you think that anythin’ is gonna come from this strike?” I asked. Jack leaned back on his hands, thinking.

“I hope so.” I scoffed at his response. I don't think it’ll happen though.

“Wise words from our fearless strike leader,” I said, my voice laced in sarcasm, hitting him lightly on the arm. 

“Well, this is one strike leader who’s gonna be very happy when it’s all over. And we can get outta here, go to Santa Fe.” I let my legs hang down as Jack matched me and scooted closer, pressing up against me. “Y’know,” he continued, “You should see Santa Fe. Everythins’ different there. It’s all bigger. Y’know, the desert, and the sky, and the sun.”

“I’se pretty sure it’s da same sun,” I said with a breathy laugh. I looked at him with a small smile on my face. What a dreamer, I looked away before he caught me admiring him.

“Yeah, just bigger,” Jack stated, a grin evident in his voice. “Santa Fe is gonna be a dream come true, for both of us.” I turned to him again to see he was already looking at me.

“Still bringing Crutchy? And Spot?” Jack answered my question with a nod. He leaned back on his hands and closed his eyes.

“We can bring anyone who wants to get outta this damned city.” I snorted at him and we both continued to watch the sunrise for a few more minutes. I leaned my head on Jack’s shoulder. 

“Happy birthday, Jack Kelly.”

“Didn’t think you remembered.” I sat up again and looked at him in shock. 

“You didn’t think that I’d remember your eighteenth birthday?” He shrugged but joy shone through his eyes. “You’se got no faith in me do ya?” Jack rolled his eyes at my dramatics.

“It just ain’t that important ta me.” 

I knocked his shoulder with mine saying, “Well it should be.”

“Only if I’m wit you, Sweetheart,” He responded with a wink. Flirt. I just rolled my eyes as I stood up. I offered Jack my hand.

“C’mon lover boy, we got a rally ta plan.”

~

"Josie, you must wear this dress," Medda insisted, shoving a navy blue dress at me. 

"No, Medda. Ya know I hate dresses!" I love this woman but damn does she think you’re more of a proper lady then you really are.

"Please? For me?"

"No."

"You’re no fun,” Medda said with a frown. Medda and I sat inside her dressing room, as the noise from hundreds of newsies grew from outside. It was the night of the rally and everyone seemed to be on edge. This rally will change the entire course of the strike , I thought with hope. 

I hadn’t seen Jack since this morning after we had planned what he was going to say. I had to run back to Brooklyn to change into clean clothes and to convince Spot to say something at the rally, per Jack and Davey’s request. What can you say? Lover-boy and Mouth can be pretty convincing when they need to be. Or, I guess, when they have a guillibal companion like you.

"Rally should be starting soon,” Medda observed with a smile. “Now go out there and support your brothers!"

"Ya know I'se only got one brudda right?" I asked, rolling my eyes and standing from the couch backstage.

"Eh,” Medda shrugged. “All those boys are like your brothers. Except that dream-boat Jack Kelly," she said with a wink.

"Aw, shut up."  

She’s too observant for her own good, I thought as I walked out from Medda’s dressing room and through backstage. I slip through the curtains and onto the stage to see Spot, Jack, and Davey. Spot turned to me and grinned, giving me a side hug, before I was pulled away by Jack. He looked a little nervous.

“You’se got dis,” I comforted, squeezing his arm before quickly letting go. A small smile on his face, Jack nodded at me. 

He took a big breath, turned around, and put up his hands yelling, "Carrying the banner!" The newsies cheered. "So, we'se come a long way, but we ain't there yet and maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on." More yells came from the newsies. "But that's fine,” Jack shrugged, “We'll just get tougher with it.” Cheers echoed around the theater and Spot started clapping. “But also, we gotta get smart and start listening to my pal David,” Jack put his arm over Davey’ shoulders, with a pause. “Who says 'stop soakin' the scabs'."

Many boys started loudly protesting. Racetrack stood up. "What are we supposed to do to da bums? Kiss 'em?" The newsies around him laughed. My brother pushed himself in front of the other two boys. Dammit, always needs to be the center of attention.  

"Hey, look, any scab I see I soak 'em. Period.” he said. Newsies cheered in agreement. I shoved him forward more and glared at him. He looked back at me, annoyed. Backing up, Jack came and stood next to me. 

Davey jumped up and put his hands out, pleading. He started walking forward on the stage. "No, no, no. That's what they want us to do. If we get violent, it's just playing into their hands."

Spot jumped in front of him, again with a dirty look. "Hey, look. They're gonna be playin' with my hands, alright.” Spot got up in his face as Jack stood behind them, but in between them, trying to mediate. “'Cause it ain't what they say, it's what we say.” My brother turned to look at all the newsies in the audience. “And nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em." The other newsies were screaming at each other, taking sides. Some fights broke out on the balconies. Gotta do everything yourself I guess. I steeled myself and took a step forward.

"Shut it!" I yelled. Everyone quieted down with a couple complaints. "Ya got no brains.” Pausing, I tapped a finger against my temple. “Why we'se startin' ta fight each other? It's just what the big shot's wanna see. That we're street rats! Street rats with no brain's. No respect for nothing, includin' ourselves!” 

Jack started where I left off. “So, here's how it's gonna be. If we don't act together, then we're nothing. If we don't stick together, then we're nothin'. And if we can't even trust each other, then we'se nothin'." Jack finished our thought. He glanced over at me and shot me a grateful smile.

"Tell 'em, Jack! Dis is a time which tries da hearts of men! Dis is da time when we'se got ta stick together like glue… We'se know what we wants and we'll get it even if we'se blind," ranted Blink.

"So, what's it gonna be?" Jack questioned.

“Listen to Jack,” I said. Ya ninnies need ta use your brains for once.

"We're with ya Jack," Race agreed.

"So, what do you say, Spot?" Jack turned and looked at my brother.

Spot got real close to Jack. "I say that what you say... is what I say." A slow grin spread across my brother’s face. They spit-shook as the newsies cheered again, this time in happiness.

“Thank you, Spotwood,” stated Jack, his arm over Spot’s shoulders as we jumped down from the stage.

Spot shoved Jack with disgust, “Stop calling me that!” Jack laughed as we made our way to a table in the middle of the theater that Davey's sister, Sarah, and Les had saved for us. Jack shot me a wink as Medda came out singing. Oh shit, you are so far gone.

“I love you, Medda!” a newsie called from somewhere in the room. I quietly laughed as I sat next to Spot. Davey plopped down on my other side and Sarah sat in between him and Jack, with Les sandwich between the older boys. 

“High times, hard times.” Medda swayed her hands back and forth above her head as her and everyone in the room sang. “Sometimes the living is sweet, and sometimes there's nothing to eat. But I always land on my feet!” Medda sat on the side and Blink hung off of the balcony he was on. “So when there's dry times, I wait for high times and then I put on my best… And I stick out my chest. And I'm off to the race's again!” Medda grabbed her umbrella and walked to the front of the stage. 

“Whoo! Go Medda! Medda!” I heard Race’s voice call out.

"Hello, newsies. What's new?" Medda smiled as the newsies cheered for her. I could hear Racetrack and Blink the loudest. They’re idiots. You know you love them.

“Sing to me sweetheart!” another newsie yelled.

“So your old lady don't love you no more. So you're afraid there's a wolf at your door. So you've got street rats that scream in your ear.” Medda sang slower and alone. 

“You win some you lose some my dear,” Everyone sang, picking up pace again. Medda climbed down from the stage and liked arms with Race and Blink, dancing around. “Oh… High times, hard times. Sometimes the living is sweet. And sometimes there's nothing to eat…”

Jack turned to Sarah and sang to her, as Blink and Race set Medda back up on the stage. A pang of hurt hit me, you’re definetly too far gone . I looked away and saw anger in Davey's eyes.

"What’s got you all riled up?" I called out to him over the singing.

"I don't like them being together. It's weird, Josie. Doesn't it make you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" Liar.

"Aren't you Jack's girl?" I quickly shook my head. I wish. "Well the way he talks about you makes me think so." Oh? I thought about that for a second before I turned back around to watch everyone else. I wasn’t in the mood for singing anymore.

Jack stood up and grabbed Medda's hand and danced with her. Both of them grinning like idiots, Spot and Davey followed him up to the large group of boys on the stage. “So when there's dry times, I wait for high times and then I put on my best… And I stick out my chest… And I'm off to the races again!”

“I put on my best!” Medda sang.

“I put on my best!” Everyone else echoed.

“Oh yes, and I stick out my chest!”

“And I stick out my chest!”

“And I'm off!”

“And I'm off!”

“And I'm off…” Some of the boys pushed Medda on her swing and she jumped off.

“To the races again!” Everyone sang together. Medda then yelled, triumphantly ending the song. The same boys picked Medda up and the rest cheered.

I saw Davey lean over and whisper something in Spot's ear. Davey ran across the stage to Jack, who was on the other side of the group of boys surrounding Medda. He was trying to say something but Jack couldn't hear him. Davey pulled him close and yelled in his ear, pointing at something behind me. Jack kissed Medda on the check as I twisted around to see what was wrong. 

Seeing nothing, I turned back around. I was then met with Jack Kelly and Spot Conlon full speed sprinting right at me. Spot grabbed me by my shirt and yelled, "It's Snyder!"

I heard a whistle and police officers and crips came running in from all sides. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! I jumped into action. Jack grabbed Sarah and Davey grabbed Les. We ran towards the back of the building. 

“Hurry!” Davey said. Over the sound of my pounding heart, I could hear Medda screaming for Race. Boys were getting beaten up all around us. The boys pushed Sarah and Les through the curtain leading backstage. 

“Get outta here! Go now!” Davey said to his siblings. The four of us that were left turned around and tried to run the other way. Crips chased us over a piano and up on the stage.

“Go up there!” Davey offered, pointing to the balconies. Cops blocked our exit that way. “Alright, no, go here. Come on!” We turned towards the front of the stage. "Go, go, go!" We ran to Medda's swing and met Snyder there. 

I quickly sat on the swing screaming, "Push me!" I put my legs up and kicked Snyder right in the face.

"Get out of here, go!" Davey grabbed Jack by the jacket then pushed him away. I saw Davey pick up the swing, as Snyder got back up. I quickly grabbed Spot, screaming, “Spot! Be safe!” He nodded and ran to Davey and stood next to him without fear on his face. Many other newsies joined them.

Police stopped us as we tried going backstage again. We shot around them. Jack grabbed my hand as we ran in circles. We headed to the left side of the stage.

“Shows over, Cowboy,” the Delancys said, stopping us from going through a side exit. 

Jack pivoted and pushed me, yelling "Climb!" as we got to a balcony. I put one hand over the other, climbing as quickly as I could. Jack followed.

We then ran through the back exit of the balcony and down the stairs. Blink stopped us, asking if we were okay. We nodded in response. He led us outside, where we were met with more police. What the hell is going on? They were on horses, making sure no one got out. We tried to break through, but one of the officers came out of their formation. He grabbed my sleeve, ripping it. Blink attacked him in response, pulling him off his horse.

I ran, leaving Blink to deal with the officer. We reached the main enterance hall, and collided with chaos. We’re gonna have to fight our way out. Jack tripped behind me and fell right as we got to the stairs. An officer on a horse came at Jack but I jumped in front of them, scaring them. The horse bucked up on its hind legs and I yanked Jack back on his feet.

We sprinted up the stairs but were met by officers tyring to take us. Turning back around, there were more officers and cribs, all focused on the two of us. I punched one and he fell back into the pile. Another punched me in the eye. I then realized something: We're trapped.

One of the crips punched Jack and he fell into the group. Another grabbed me. I screamed bloody murder. I screamed for anyone. Jack, Spot, Skits, anyone. I screamed till my voice gave out. But no one came to my rescue.

Chapter Text

Tuesday- July 25, 1899

I quickly sat on the swing screaming, "Push me!" I put my legs up and kicked Snyder right in the face.

I screamed bloody murder. I screamed for anyone. Jack, Spot, Skits, anyone. I screamed till my voice gave out.

No one came.

A police officer threw me into a cell. "You'll stay here for the night. Tomorrow you'll both be put on trial."

I sat up, heavy breathes shuddering through me. It was pitch black. I had no idea where I was. It wasn't the Manhattan lodging house or the Brooklyn one. The Refuge?!

No. I was laying on the ground, my whole body hurt. Find me Jo. "Jack?" I croaked. No answer. "Jack?" I called again, louder this time, with panic in my voice.

I heard a groan from the cell next to me and then, "Jo?"

"Jack." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Are ya okay?"

"Everythin' hurts," he said. I snorted in response. 

"Me too." I said, leaning against the wall that connected our cells. "What do ya reckon will happen to us?"

"I'se got no clue. Probably back to the Refuge with us!" Sarcasm laced Jack’s voice. 

"No way am I goin' back there."

"No, you’se not," Jack sighed.

"Do ya think da boys are okay?" I was worried about them.

"They'se can take care of dem selves."

"I'se not so sure 'bout that, Jack. I mean do ya see da trouble they get in?" Hella trouble.

"We get in more trouble than all of 'em combined, Sweetheart. Look where we'se at now." I chuckled at him then gasped in pain. “What?” Jack asked, panicked.

"I think I broke somethin'."

"Where's it hurt?"

"My side."

Jack cursed under his breath. "Bruised ribs, I'se sure. I’ll look at it when we get outta here." He sighed for the third time. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” I did a quick mental scan of my body.

“Black eye and there’s another bruise on my jaw. Someone ripped my sleeve and I’m freezing and covered in dirt,” I complained. “How ‘bout you?”

“Two black eyes, bruises on my jaw too, and blood all over my face from somewhere. A hell of an eighteenth birthday. You’se definitely got it worse though,” Jack scoffed and we were enveloped in silence once again. With little conversation but a lot of worrying an hour passed. I had started to wonder if we really were being put on trial today. Alone with my thoughts, I remembered the last time I was in a cell like this.

Ever since our parents died, my brother, Jack, and I had been best friends. But the two of us had always been closer. Manhattan was like a second home to me. What had happened between me and Skittery had changed that. Jack would come and see me in Brooklyn instead of the other way around. 

October, four years ago, me and Jack had stolen some bread to eat. We got caught and sentenced to three months in the Refuge. That time got bumped up to six months a little later. During the beginning of the next year, Theodore Roosevelt came to try and "help" us and win an election. We escaped on the back of his carriage. Leaving that horrible place forever and ever. 

I was ripped out of my thoughts by a police officer unlocking my cell. Jack was next to him. I stood up wincing a bit as Jack looked at me in concern. 

“All that blood looks good on you, lover-boy,” I smirked up at him. “It really brings out your eyes.” Jack frowned at me and I rolled my eyes. Looking next to him, the police officer had a large grin on his face. "You enjoy watchin' a hurt girl?" His grin faulted a little bit at my comment.

"No, but you're going to get what you deserve." I grabbed Jack's arm, trying to save the police officer from a black eye.

"Don't," I said. He growled in response and pulled away. Overprotective. We walked out of the building and we're shoved into a carraige. As we bumped along the street, pain shot along my ribs. It took us a few minutes to get to the court house. Stepping out of the carriage, the officer clamped handcuffs on my wrist.

I was shoved up the stairs and through the giant wood doors. Laughter echoed throughout the courtroom. 

"Hey, you fellas alright? Where’s Jack?" I heard Davey ask.

“Look, we got to meet at the restaurant. Everybody. We’ve got to talk,” Denton said.

Another voice said, "Pay the clerk. Move it along."

Jack walked in saying, "Heya fellas!" with a grin on his face. I walked in behind him. The people in the court gasped.

"A girl?"

"It's a girl?"

"How the hell?"

"Is that even legal?"

"Hey, Cowboy! Nice shiner!" Racetrack said, elbowing Spot. He wasn't paying attention to Race. His eyes were on mine, specifically my black eye. I quickly looked away from his piercing stare. You’re in so much trouble. 

"Hey, Denton. I guess we made all the papes this time.” Jack said with a small smirk. 

“How’s our picture lookin'?" I asked Denton, matching Jack’s expression. Denton walked over to the clerk and picked up a paper.

"None of the papers covered the rally. Not even the Sun." He looked away from us. The clerk stood up and started reading. 

"Case of Jack Kelly and Josie Conlon. Inciting a riot. Assault. Resisting arrest." We were pushed to stand in front of the judge’s stand. At the sound of the gate slamming shut, I turned to see Snyder the Spider. 

"Judge Monahan, I’ll speak for these young people."

"Ya two know each other. Ain’t that nice," I sarcastically commented. The judge gave me a look, telling me to shut up. 

"Just move it along, Warden Snyder,” the judge prompted Snyder. He turned to look at both of us.

"This boy’s real name is Francis Sullivan. His mother’s deceased. His father’s a convict in the state penitentiary. Nothing is known about the girl.” Jack turned to look at Davey as I lowered my head. The secret’s out . “They’re escapees from the House of Refuge where their original sentence for three months was extended to six months for disruptive behavior." 

"Like demanding we eat the food you steal from us," Jack argued. Snyder just ignored him. 

"Followed by an additional six months for attempted escape." 

Jack took a step forward, the chains around his wrists jangling. "Attempted? Last time it wasn’t an attempted escape. Remember Snyder? Remember us and Teddy Roosevelt and the carriage?! Remember Roosevelt and the carriage?!" His voice got increasingly louder as he spoke. Snyder ignored him again. 

"Therefore, I ask that he be returned to the House of Refuge." 

I spoke up this time. "What? For our own good, right? Move it along? For our own good and for what he kicks back to you!" I gestured towards the judge with my head.

"I ask that the court order their incarceration until the age of twenty-one, in the hope that we may yet guide them to a useful and productive life."

"So or-" I cut the Judge off.

"Ya honor? I object."

"On what grounds?" Oh shit, here you go.

"On da grounds that none of us got a nickel to our names. On da grounds dat most of us are orphans or runaways. On the grounds that we'se so afraid that we change our names just to escape conviction. On da grounds dat things are so bad dat ya get arrested for stealin' a piece of bread!" Everyone looked at me in surprise. "Now let me tell you'se all a little story. My name isn't Josie Conlon. My name is Katherine Pulitzer."

Chapter Text

Tuesday- July 25, 1899

The newsies gasped at my revelation. "Spot's name is James Pulitzer. We’se da kids of Elizabeth and Thomas Pulitzer, and grandkids of Joseph Pulitzer." 

"Shut up, Josie!" Spot yelled from across the room. I ignored him. 

"Years ago, there was a fire at my fadder's house. Me muddar an’ Jack’s were best friends. The two of dem and me fadder were there.. All of our parents died, but we were able ta get out. Jack's fadder was convicted of starting da fire, but he didn't. We know he didn’t. None of us had any family left who actually cared about us. My granfadder, good ol’ Pulitzer himself, hated me muddar, and in turn me and Spot. So we made up names for ourselves." I turned to the newsies and gave them all a look. 

"Don't get mad at us. Half of you'se all changed ya names too." I pointed at Skittery. "Your real name's Sam Hudson. Blink's is Louis Ballet." I turned to Racetrack. "'An yours is Anthony Higgins."

"I told ya that in confidence, Josie!" Race yelled at me. Oh, shut up Race.

"Shut up, Race! She’s provin' a point." Jack echoed his voice in my head.

“My point is,” I continued rolling my eyes. “Most of us were scabs at some point in our lives. Now look where we'se at.” I gestured around at the newsies. “In a courtroom. Parents dead or missing. Livin' on these streets since we was five. We'se just a bunch of kids wit no money! Yet here we are. Arrested for doin' somethin' ta fix our already broken lives.” I paused for a breath and turned to Snyder. “You can put me back in the Refuge. I'se just gonna break out again. You can put me in there millions of times but I'se always gonna break out. Every. Damn. Time.” Synder opened his mouth to say something but I cut him off. 

"And it ain't just about us!” I exclaimed, turning back to the judge. “‘Dis city is run by kids. There’s kids, younger than any of us workin’ ta support they’se families. They should be playin’ or goin’ ta school! Ain't no problem in being poor, and not a one of us complains if da work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal! And that’s why I’m here right now. So your honor,” I drawled out, my voice laced with sarcasm and a grin on my face. “How’s dat fair?” Everyone was frozen for a second. Got ‘em.

Breakin the silence, Synder said, “They must go back to the Refuge, your honor!” 

“So ordered!” The judge banged his gavel on his stand. The police officers proceeded to grab me and Jack. 

“No!” I heard Les exclaim. Then the newsies exploded. Some jumped over the railing. Others threw themselves against the gate. In the chaos, Jack and I were dragged away by officers. I looked back and caught Skittery's eye. 

"Plan C," he mouthed. I nodded in agreement.

When Jack and I escaped from the Refuge, we created a list of plans if we ever got arrested again. Plan A was me trying to talk our way out. Which clearly didn’t work . Plan B was if someone was with us, for them to create a distraction. That didn’t work either. Skittery didn't think that was enough so between the two of us, he came up with plan C. That plan was for him to come and break me out of the Refuge. What Skits didn't know was me and Jack had a plan C as well. And it just might work.

The ride to the Refuge was longer than I remembered. Jack and I sat in an uncomfortable silence, pressed up against each other, and surrounded by officers. Jack leaned over and whispered into my ear, “A little overkill, ya think?” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Leave it to Jack Kelly to make a joke while being taken to jail. 

When the officers finally pushed me out of the carriage, I looked around at the Refuge. It looked just as we had left it three years ago. A tall building with barred windows stood in front of us and a now closed gate was behind us. 

Jack looked at me and gave a nod. I jumped and brought my hands under my feet, to get my hands straight in front of me. Then, I dead-legged the officer on my right. As he fell, the one on my left blew a whistle. Officers stormed out of the Refuge to grab us. They surrounded us again. One grabbed me and forced me to my knees in the dirt. Jack ran up to me and tried to grab the officer holding me. 

"Let her go!" he yelled. Someone grabbed the back of his shirt and forced him to kneel too.

"It's too late for that, Sullivan," Snyder said. Jack looked up and spit on him. That earned him a punch in the stomach. Jack bent in pain as I screamed his name. Snyder turned to me and grabbed my chin. His disgusting eyes connected with mine. I hate him, I’m going to kill him.

"You grew into such a pretty thing.” Jack struggled against the police officers that were now holding him. I ripped my chin out of Synder’s hand. "Get them inside," he said. 

We were dragged into the Refuge and forced downstairs to the basement. The basement was usually used to punish troublemakers, such as ourselves. Home sweet home. The officers slid the handcuffs off our wrists. Snyder slammed the door shut and looked at us through the little bars on top.

"You'll never get out this time, Sullivan. Or you, Pulitzer!" Snyder shut the window tight with a sickening smile.

"Ya okay, Jo?" Jack asked.

"I'se in the Refuge.” I whipped around to face Jack. “Da worst place in the world. Da place I almost died . Whatta ya think?" I started hyperventilating. Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

“Are you really angry right now? Why? Why are you gettin’ mad at me? I didn’t do nothin’!” He exclaimed, exasperated.

“You didn’t do nothin’? I’m in here because of you, Jack! If you didn’t start this damn strike, Synder would neva have found me!” I saw hurt flash across his eyes but in the moment I didn’t care.

“Oh, so, Synder just found you?” He shot back, stepping closer. “Y’know I’m in here too right? Does that not matter to ya? All you eva do is think about yourself! Always running away from your problems.” 

“Get off yout high horse, Kelly. You’se the one who taught me to run from what matters most.” Hurt before you get hurt. I stepped even closer to him, the tension thick in the air. The bubble popped as there was a small tap on the bar covered window. I turned away from Jack and started towards the window. I walked over to see Skittery, standing outside with a handful of clothes.

"I saw your ripped shirt," he said, handing me the bundle.

"Thanks," I gunted. I ruffled through the clothes and noticed that it was a shirt of Jack's. "Turn around," I commanded Skittery. He promptly turned around. I took a few steps back towards Jack and glanced up at him. "You too, Kelly." He rolled his eyes, his normal flirtiness gone. He did what he was told while sitting down on the block of wood apparently called a bed.

I took off my ripped shirt and quickly slipped Jack's striped shirt over my head. I lifted the collar to my face and breathed in the smell of Jack. Tobacco and the outdoors. Like home, even if we’re fighting. I tucked the shirt into my pants and rolled up the sleeves. I told the boys that they could turn back around.

"Ready ta leave?" Skits questioned as I walked back over to him.

"No," I whispered through the bars, "I'se not gonna come wit ya."

"Why?"

"I can't leave Jack here,” I trailed off. I looked over at Jack with his head in his hands and elbows on his knees. You can’t ever leave me, just like I can’t ever leave you. I regretted everything I’d just said to him. I turned back to Skittery saying, “He's gonna get in more trouble than he's already in."

"You an' me both know dat da two a you'se get in more trouble together den apart. Tell da truth." Maybe just fuck off Skittery , I signed.

"I get nightmares every night from memories of dis place. Jack does too. Ya can't survive dis place alone. It's a livin' hell." And you need to apologize.

"Jack's tough, he can last in here by himself," Skittery pushed.

"No he can't. An'..." I looked back at Jack again, with a small smile on my face. "An', he's da only family I got left, besides Spot. I'se not gonna leave him behind." Too personal, back off. Why are you telling him this? 

"Fine. But I might not be able ta keep Mouth away from here." I shook my head, laughing quietly and my mood lifted a bit. 

"I see Dave's already part of da newsies. You tell him dat he can come an' see Jack tomorrow sometime."

"Kay." Skittery pulled out some tools we had made for instances like this one. He then inserted them into the lock. "It ain’t workin'."

"What?" Jack asked, exasperated.

"It's seriously not workin' Josie. It ain't fittin'." Jack stormed over before Skittery could get another word out.

"Lemme try." Jack ripped the tools out of Skits' hand and tried to get it into the lock. It didn't work again. Jack growled in frustration.

"Aye, calm down Jack," I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. He shook it off.

"Calm down? Calm down!?"

I gave Skittery a look and said, "Go an' tell da boys ta keep striking. We'll be outta here soon." He nodded and ran away. "Jack? Jack. Look at me." I took his head between his hands. "Breath in and out. In, out." Don’t panic, Jo.

"I can't. I need ta get ya outta here."

"No, ya don't. I'se fine. See?" I gestured to myself, then dropped my hands to my sides. "Still alive an' breathin'."

"It’s my fault you’re in here!"

“Jacky, it’s not. I’m sorry I said it was. I’m sorry I blamed you for everythin’.” My words started picking up speed. “I’m sorry I said you run way from everyhting. I’m sorry-'' Jack cut me off.

“Josie, it’s okay.” He put​​ his hands on my cheeks. “I know you ain’t meant any of it.”

“Jack, I’m scared,” I whispered, leaning into his hand. So am I.

“I know, Sweetheart, I know.” He pulled me into a tight hug. 

It was starting to get dark outside. With all that had happened, I was exhausted. Jack offered me the bed and I grudgingly accepted it. I laid down on the hard wood and closed my eyes. Sadly, sleep came.

Flashes of those horrible few days haunted my dreams. The sickening crack of the whip across my back, tearing my skin through my shirt. Every punch that came added new pain. The sound of Jack screaming himself hoarse.

I woke up with the echo of Jack's scream mixing with my own. Jack jumped up from where he was sitting across the room. I buried my head in my hands, bringing my knees up as well. My tears were flowing freely now.

"Aye, aye," Jack whispered soothingly. He sat next to me. "You're okay. We'se not there. We'se safe. Nothin's gonna hurt ya."

"Jack," I weakly said, leaning into him. "It felt so real. I could feel it an' I could hear ya..." He pulled me onto his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. My head rested on his shoulder as I clutched the back of his shirt and kept crying. Let it out Jo. He stroked my back, tracing the scars he knew were there. You’re weak.

No one knew what happened to me here. Except Jack. He watched it happen. He watched as the Delancey's beat me to a pulp. They used whatever they could find, their hands, brass knuckles, and an old horse whip. It was our punishment for trying to leave the first time. I was beating up as Jack watched. Jack helped to patch me up and kept me alive.

"It gets worse wit out ya, Jack." Jack pulled me away slowly. He cupped my face, whipping a few straggling tears. “I think I'm going crazy.” I looked down

“It’s not crazy to be scared by what happened, Jo.” 

“No, I know. But sometimes…” I trailed off. Jack grabbed my chin and moved me to look at him. 

“Sometimes, what? You know you can talk to me, Sweetheart.” His face reflected the concern lacing his voice. No you can’t.

“Sometimes… the voice in my head, it’s yours. And that scares me.” Jack pulled me back into his arms.

"I will get ya outta here, Jo. If it's da last thing I do."

Chapter Text

Wednesday- July 26, 1899

“This bed sucks,” I mumbled, voice thick with sleep. A deep chuckle vibrated through me, setting my nerve endings on fire. The culprit’s hand tightened around my waist. I groaned in annoyance and pressed myself closer to Jack. My eyes opened and a light grey shirt greeted me. I looked up to see the owner of the shirt already looking down at me. Oh hell.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

“Hi,” he answered back. 

“How’d we even fit on da bed?” I laughed. I grabbed onto Jack’s shoulders and pulled myself up a bit. Our eyes were level, both of us laying on Jack’s jacket, faces inches apart.

“Practice, I guess.” Jack laughed in response. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on my hip. I reached over to brush hair out of his face. Jack’s eyes fluttered closed as my hand touched his skin. I love you. I in turn started to run my hand through his hair. 

“Come here,” I said, moving to sit. I gasped as my ribs slid into a sitting position.

“What?” Jack asked, panicked and he quickly sat up too.

“My ribs, shit!” Oh shit, fuck, dammit!

“Lemme see it,” Jack prompted. He kneeled down next to the bed and I swung my legs over the edge next to him. I lifted up my shirt a couple of inches to expose a huge blue and purple bruise. Scooting closer, Jack lightly felt it with his finger. I sucked in a breath. He looked up at me through his eyelashes. Oh shit, I need air. “Does it hurt to breathe?” I shook my head, unable to speak. “Nothins’ broken then. So that’s good, but it’ll take a while to heal.” He stood and sat next to me on the bed as I dropped my shirt to cover the bruise again. I scooted towards the wall and leaned back against it, letting out a breath. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess, Jo,” Jack said.

“Come here Cowboy,” I said guiltyly. I gestured for him to lay his head on my lap. He duitifully followed my instructions. Crawling up on the bed, Jack naturally placed his head on my legs, his face looking up at mine. We fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. I started running my hands through his hair as he let out a little sigh. “We’se gonna get outta here, I promise.”

“I know.” Jack closed his eyes and we sat in silence for a few minutes. “I’se just scared.”

“Me too. But we’se gonna be fine.” I continued playing with his hair as time passed. I braided and unbraided a couple of pieces as Jack looked up at me. I have never seen anyone so beautiful in my entire life.

After a few more minutes in silence I heard someone coming down the stairs. Jack sat up and shot me a concerned look. There was a clanging and the door opened to reveal Morris and Oscar Delancey. Dirty, rotten, sons of a bitch. 

“Get up, both of you,” Oscar demanded. Jack and I slowly climbed off of the bed. Jack positioned himself slightly infront of me. Morris grabbed me by the collar and pulled me away from Jack. He reached for me, but Oscar stopped him.

"You hurt her, I kill ya," Jack growled.

"Calm down, Kelly. We've been told to handle you however we want." Morris turned to me with a sick grin across his face. "So I can do whatever I want to you, darling." I turned and spit on his hideous face. Bitch.

"That was for Crutchy, ya bastard." The sound of a hand landing on Jack’s face echoed across the room. He hissed and reached up to his check.

"Everything you do that I don't like will result in your precious Cowboy getting hurt," Oscar laughed. "And anything you do," he whipped his head to face Jack, "will hurt her." You’se gonna get me killed. We all turned as we heard someone else walk down the basement stairs. There was a timid knock and Morris let me go to open it. I slinked closer to Jack and he grabbed my wrist.

“What?” Morris demanded as he wripped the door open. A younger boy stepped back in fear before speaking up.

"Mister, a, Snyder would, a, like ta see those two." The Delaneys groaned. Morris grabbed me by my collar and Oscar grabbed Jack. I’m going to kill them. They dragged us back up the stairs. 

I felt hot breath on my neck as Morris whispered, "We'll finish you two later, darling." We were forced out the front door and down the stairs.

"It would seem that your grandfather, Mister Pulitzer, would like to meet with you two. I've been told to bring you to his house," Snyder said. I looked up and traced the constellations I knew by heart. What the hell is my life right now? We had spent the whole day inside the Refuge without even knowing. Spot was probably going crazy with worry about us. We climbed into the waiting carriage when a flash of movement caught my eye. 

Crouching down by some barrels were Les, Mush, Race, Boots, and Blink. Davey was there too, with a rope in his hand. The door swung shut before I could get a better look. The carriage echoed with every bump and hole we hit. Jack sat next to me, our hands clasped together. Grinning sinisterly, Snyder sat across from us. 

"I see you two have grown even more attached to each other than the last time I met you. What a wonderful thing to see if you were torn apart from each other," he said. 

“Fuck off,” I said under my breath. Snyder’s laugh was a gross cackle that was cut short as the carriage came to a sudden stop. 

"Get them inside," a older man outside said. We were brought into the house that looked vaguely familiar. It is expensive here, wow. They took us into a large study and the older man left the room. Jack and I started browsing the things around us. I picked up a picture frame with a younger boy with brown hair and a large smile. He looked so much like Spot it scared me. Jack came up behind me and put a hand on my lower back.

“Is dat your fadder?” He asked.

“Yeah I think so,” I whispered back.

“Put that down,” a man’s voice demanded. I turned to see a man in a red suit with features that matched the boy in the picture. I carefully set the photo down. "Sit," he commanded Jack, as he gestured to a pair of chairs. He then walked over to me saying, "You must be Katherine, Thomas' child." My grandfather grabbed my chin. "You're such an ugly thing. You look too much like your mother." Oh, hell no.

I pulled my chin away as Jack said, "Leave her alone, Pulitzer." 

He turned to Jack, again demanding, “Sit,” Jack reluctantly sat in a large chair. I sat across from him with a table between us.

"Do you know what I was doing at your age, boy? I was in a war. The Civil War.” Pulitzer gestured to a picture next to the one of my father. We both glanced over at it. 

"Yeah, I heard of it. So, did ya win?" Jack shot back.

"People think the wars are about right or wrong. They’re not. They’re about power," Pulitzer continued, stalking around the room. Jack twisted his head to look up at him and grinned. 

"Yeah, I heard of that too. I don’t just sell your papes, Joe. Sometimes I read ‘em." Smartass.

"Power of the press is the greatest power of them all.” Pulitzer continued walking around. “I tell this city how to think. I tell this city how to vote. I,” he gestured to himself, “shape its future."

"Well you'se not very good at it," I muttered.

"I can turn this city's future against anyone, girl."

"Yeah? Well, right now I’se only thinking about a few futures, and that's me bruddas', his," I gestured to Jack, "and my own."

"Well, so am I, girl. I have the power to see that you stay locked in the Refuge," Pulitzer threatened.

"And we'se got da power to break out again," I fought back. Pulitzer ignored me. Just like everyone else.

"Or, I can see you released tomorrow, free and clear, with more money in your pockets than you can earn in, well, three lifetimes."

"Are you bribin’ us, Joe?" Jack asked, smirking.

"Hm, well, no."

"Well, it’s been real nice chattin’ with ya, Joe. But we'se gotta be goin’ now," I said, standing up and turning away. I heard Jack do the same. 

"Wait! You listen to me, children.” Pulitzer raised his voice and walked towards us. “Now you just shut your mouth and listen to me! You shut up and listen to me for once! No game I’m playing.” He grabbed Jack’s arm and yanked it to make them face to face. Be careful now, Jo. Jack swiped some hair out of his eyes. “You work for me til the strike’s over," Pulitzer glanced at me, "and it will end, girl, make no mistake, without you. Then you go wherever you want to buy a ticket for, away from the Refuge, these foul streets. Free. With money to spend and nobody chasing you." He poked Jack in the chest a couple times. Over?

"We must have you scared pretty bad, old man," I commented, still smirking. Why would I believe a cheapskate like Pulitzer?

"I offer you freedom and money just to work for me again. To your friends, I won’t be so kind." Pulitzer turned back to Jack. "Now, your partner, what’s his name, David? I understand he has a family." Jack’s smile fell and Pulitzer turned to me. Not Davey. "And your brother, James? What do you think the Refuge would do to them?” Not Spot either. He poked Jack in the chest again. “And it will be you children who put them there. And all the others, after all, you are their leaders.” We all stood in silence for a few seconds before Pulitzer continued. “Go back to the Refuge tonight, think about it. Give me your answer in the morning." He threw both of us out of the room. What a tightwad. Not to mention an arse. The man who had let us in led us outside once again. We were walking down the stairs when I heard Davey.

"Jack! Josie! Come on! Run!" Jack and I slid down the railing of the stairs, following Dave. 

"After them!" Snyder yelled. 

“Hurry up!” Davey exclaimed. The coachman tried racing after us but the horses broke off from the carriage, running away without it. I sprinted faster, laughing. Davey looked over at me and smiled. We ran out of the gate and down the street. After trurning down a couple of streets, we eventually got to an alleyway. Jack slowed down and stopped. 

"Come on! Keep running!" Davey prompted, but stopped too. I followed suit.

"You shouldn’t have done this, Dave. They could put you in jail," Jack began. What’s going on?

"I don't care." Davey started trying to run again. 

"Come here." Jack urged him forward. "What about your family?” He shoved Dave into the brick wall behind him. “What happens to them if you go to jail? You don’t know nothin' 'bout jail. Now, thanks for what you’ve done, but you get out of here." Jack poked him in the chest then pointed down the alley. The hell?

"I don’t understand," Davey said, confused. I am too.

"I don’t understand either, but just get outta here!" Jack shoved Davey down the alley. 

"No!" Davey insisted.

"Go!" Jack commanded again. Davey started walking away. I’m drowning.

"Ja-" I was cut off.

"You too, Josie." He walked up to me and put his hat on my head. Hurt before you get hurt.

"No! I'm not leaving ya, Jack." I took a step back from him. 

Gesturing down the alley, he said, "Yes you are. Now go wit Dave.”

"Jack Kelly! I am not leaving you ta suffer alone in that hell. I refuse to!" I screamed. Jack shot forward and clamped his hand over my mouth. Not even Jo, only Josie.

"If we both go they'se gonna catch you easier. I can't let that happen, Josie." There were tears in my eyes now. I ripped my face from his hand. I don’t want you, Josie.

"No, Jack! I need you!"

"And I need you too. So I'se gonna do this.” He looked behind me. “Dave," Jack commanded. Davey came up behind me and grabbed me. I was screaming and crying for Jack. His shadow turned around the corner and disappeared. Nothing will ever be the same again . 

It took a few minutes for me to calm down. My breathing slowed and tears stopped falling. Not a thought passed through my brain. Davey finally let me go and I whipped at my cheeks. He took a step back and looked at me. 

“You tell anyone you saw me cry and I’ll soak ya,” I said to Dave. You’re weak.

He shook his head saying, “I won’t tell anyone. Let’s get you home.” I nodded and started walking towards the Manhattan lodging house. “Brooklyn’s the other way Josie,” Davey called after me. He ran to catch up.

“Brooklyn’s not home,” I said back. We walked in silence for a bit. 

“Why’d he do that?” Davey asked.

“I don’t know, Dave, I don’t know.” It took a few more minutes for us to walk to Manhattan. When we got there Blink, Mush, Race, Spot, and Les were waiting in the lobby for us. They stood up as we walked in. Spot ran up and gave me a hug then quickly let go. The room felt empty.

“Where’s Jack?” Race asked.

Davey shrugged saying, “He just yelled at us then sent us away.” Blink turned to me.

“He sent you away too, Josie?” Not trusting myself to speak, I just nodded. You’re so weak, they’re gonna know you can’t handle this. Race cursed and turned around. He walked up the stairs to the bedroom. The other boys followed him except Spot and Davey. Davey picked up Les, who was asleep on the stairs, and walked out the door without a word. Spot continued to look at me.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” I lied as I walked upstairs and out a window. Don’t let them see you break.

Chapter Text

Wednesday- July 26, 1899

Wideawake, I sat where Jack and I had slept just a couple nights before. I thought back to everything that had happened today. The change in Jack from this morning to just an hour ago gave me whiplash. Nothing made sense.

Part of me was scared that he had decided to take the money Pulitzer offered us. No, I thought, He’d never do that. Then another voice, Wouldn't I? A million thoughts ran through my head. I had to get them out. I started talking to a sleeping Manhattan.

"Sometimes I think about dyin’, not because I want to, but because the idea of not feelin’ stuck sounds like relief. But that’s the thin’, I don’t actually want out. I just want in. Into life, into motion, into something that madders. There’s so much out there, and I’m here, wastin’ days like they’re nothin’. Like I’m nothin’. And I hate it." I wiped my face, surprised by the heat of tears. The city stretched below, quiet. I just sat there, legs swinging over the edge.

“Santa Fe, my old friend,” I started singing. “I can’t spend my whole life hidin’, you’re the only light dats guidin’ me today.” I was full on crying now. “Will you keep my candle burnin’? Will you help me find my way? You’re my chance to break free, and who knows when my next one will be? Santa Fe… wait for me…” Please…

~

Thursday- July 27 , 1899

I woke up to the sound of running around below me. Panicked, I quickly ran down the fire escape and climbed through a window. The main group of boys were standing in the bathroom, talking. 

“Aye, what’s happenin’?” I asked as I walked over to them. All of them turned to look at me.

“Dave saw a bunch of newsies heading to the distribution center,” Spot said, concern lacing his voice. Davey nodded in agreement. Goddamit.

“We were gonna head over there,” Mush offered, tentatively. 

I started walking towards the stairs saying, “Let’s get goin’ den.”

“You sure?” Spot asked, following me. The rest of the boys trailed after us. “Everyone else is already there, we don’t need ta go.” He knows you’re weak, just like the rest of them do.

“Positive,” I stated. I led the group out of the lodging house and down the street. I heard whispering from behind me and Race finally spoke up. 

"What happened last night Josie?" he asked.

"I don't wanna talk 'bout it." Hurt before you get hurt.

"Come on. It ain't that hard ta answer a question, Queenie," Blink pushed.

"Ya know what Blink? Just shut up. Ya don't know what happened to us in the Refuge," I turned to the rest of them, stopping. "None of you do. Not even you, Spot."

"Then tell us and everythin' will be okay." 

"Okay? Okay ?! My best friend is in hell on earth, the place I almost died. And I'se scared he's gonna die or worse- take up Pulitzer's offer. And you wanna tell me it'll be 'okay?!' None of you'se will 'eva understand." I turned back around and kept walking. Fuck then all. I felt a hand grab my own. I looked down to see Les with a smile on his face. It helped calm me down.

“Hiya, kid,” I said to him.

“Hi, Josie!” I looked up and could see the statue of Horace Greeley in the distance. When we got there, there were tons of newsies with signs in their hands. There were boys about my age through boys Les' age, all striking. Our group pushed towards the front. 

"Stop the World! No more papes! Stop the World! No more papes!" the newsies yelled. The wagon we were trying to stop broke through our barricade. Fights started breaking out.

"Cheese it! Race, please help me. I need some help!" Davey called.

"Alright! I ain't deaf!" Race yelled back. He broke the fight apart as I saw another one happening.

Spot pushed between them. "Hey, hey, hey! Break it up. Hey, hey, Race, Race! Come here." Spot broke the fight up and pulled Race to the very front of the crowd. 

“What?” Race asked, looking through the policemen.

"Tell me I'm seeing things. Just tell me I'm seeing things." I looked over to where Spot was pointing and saw Weasel with none other than Jack, walking out of the non-skriking crowd. It was like a bolt of lightning cut me in half. He had taken Pulitzer's offer. He was so dead.

"No, you ain't seeing things. That's Jack. What's he doing?" Race asked.

"He's dressed like a scabber!" Spot yelled. The rest of the Manhattan newsies pushed their way to the very front. They were mad. I didn't blame them, I was too. Putting my head down I walk to the front to join my boys. Don’t let them know that you're broken inside.

"Jack? Jack, look at me, will ya? Come on, it's me, Mush.” He shoved forward but was held back by a couple of policemen. “Look at me. What are you doin', Jack?" Jack couldn't look him or the rest of us in the eyes.

"This ain't happening. This can't be happening. What are you doin' Jack? Come on, what are you doin'?" Blink said, freaking out, pushing up to the police.

"Come on. What is this? Where'd he get dem clothes?" Boots questioned.

Weasle grinned saying, "Mr. Pulitzer picked them out himself. A special gift to a special new employee." The boys were screaming and yelling. 

"What? He sold us out!" Spot screamed. I put my hand on his shoulder to calm him but it didn't work.

"Look at him in his little suit You bum! I'll soak ya!" Race exclaimed. “Ya fink!”

"Hey, hey, hey. Enough! Let me get my hands dirty. Come here you dirty rotten scabber! Traitor!" Two policemen held Spot back. I went and stood by Davey as he stared at Jack. You’re broken. Someone from Brooklyn dragged Spot away towards the back. The rest of the boys continued pushing against the line of policemen.

"Awe. You wanna talk to him? Come on you two, come on. Sure,” Weasel said, gesturing to Davey and I. Dave walked up as I followed, my head held high with Jack's hat on. Weasel gestured to Jack. “Go right ahead." We walked back a little bit, away from the striking newsies. 

"So, this is why you didn't escape last night.” Davey messed with Jack’s new suit but Jack shoved his hand away. 

“Yeah,” Jack responded, shrugging. Liar.

“You're a liar! You lied about everything. You lied about your father being out west, 'cause he's not out west! You didn't even tell me your real name!" Davey ranted.

"So? What you wanna do about it Dave?" Jack got up in his face, mockingly frowning.

"I don't understand you." Neither do I, to be honest.

"Oh, so let me spell it out for ya. You see, I ain't got nobody tuckin' me in at night, like you. It's just me. I gotta look out for myself, alright?."

"You had the newsies,” I pushed. He turned to look at me for the first time. 

"Oh, what'd being a newsie ever give me, but a dime a day and a few black eyes?” He spat, then turned back to Davey. My heart broke a little more. “Ya know, I can't afford to be a kid no more, Dave. For the first time in my life, I'se got money in my pockets. Real money.” Jack shook his jacket pocket and the clanging of coins echoed in my ears. “Money, ya understand? I got more on the way and as soon as I collect, I'm gone, I'm away. Alright?"

"Well, that's good. That's good because we don't need you! I don't need you!” I shot back. A flash of hurt shone in Jack’s eyes. For once, the words coming out of my mouth echoed the ones in my head.

“Because,” Davey continued for me. “All those words you said, those were mine." He poked Jack in the chest.

"Yeah, but you never had the guts to put them across yourself, didja?" Jack fought back.

"I do now. " Davey started walking back. I saw him look out at our friends, listening to the conversation. He stopped and turned back around to Jack and I. Davey is the most loyal boy you’ll ever meet.

"C’mon. What'sa matta? Got a problem?" Jack asked. Davey rushed at him but Weasel and a couple policemen held him back.

"Maybe you two would like new suits of your own, huh?" Weasle taunted.

"No! Never!" Davey yelled, fighting back.

“I'm not like you!” I spat at Jack.

"Get outta here! Get outta here!" Weasel laughed, dragging Davey away. Jack turned to me.

“What do ya want now, Josie?” He asked me. He never calls me Josie.

“I wanna know what was goin’ through your stupid head when you decided to take up Pulitzer’s offer!”

“I can’t live how I’se been livin’ no more! Always running, always wonderin’ where my next meal will be comin’ from. No one should live like dat!” He took a few steps forward. 

“Oh, did ya forget dat da rest of us live like dat too? Did ya forget dat I am always runnin’wit you? Or does dat not matter to you?”

“No it don’t matter,” Jack hissed at me. “Why do it matter to you?” My heart shattered into pieces. Now everyone will see how weak you’ve always been.

I sucked in a breath and shoved all my emotions deep into my heart. “It don’t, Jack Kelly. I hope Santa Fe's worth it witout me." I whipped around and ran into the crowd. Policemen made a circle around Jack and pushed him through our crowd.

"Traitor!" Spot screamed.

"You make me sick!" Blink spat.

"I trusted you!" Boots cried.

"Seize the day, huh Jack?" Race said. Jack was gone.

Les turned to me saying, "He's foolin' 'em, so he can spy on 'em or something. Yeah, yeah, that's it. He's foolin' 'em!" I put a sad smile on my face and put my arm around his shoulders. Oh to be so optimistic.

"Yeah, he's spying on 'em, kid."

~

I walked through an alley with my head down, thinking. What was Jack thinking? I would never take up that offer so why did he? The answer to my questions came in two words.

Confront him.

I walked back the way I came and turned right. I walked down the street to another alleyway. At the other end stood the boy I loved yelling out lies like a second language. A language he was so good at, even I couldn't tell when he switched back and forth.

I ran and didn't look back.

You’re too broken, no one will ever actually love you.

Chapter Text

Thursday- July 27, 1899

"Why am I such an idiot!?" I screamed to the New York skyline. I, again, was on the roof of the Manhattan lodging house. It seemed like this was my only escape from the hell I was living. Remnants of Jack were scattered all around me. His cowboy hat lay on the blankets we always used to sleep. Drawings stuck out of the bar on the fire escape. I mean I was even wearing his shirt. 

A variety of questions ran through my head. The main one was why ? Why would Jack ever betray the newsies, me , for a couple of dollars? I knew why but I didn't want to admit it to myself. It’s ‘cause you’re too broken. I ignored the thought and tried to find a different solution. I knew that if I was in his shoes I would've accepted the bribe. But too many people relied on me for me to take a chance at freedom like that. 

What Jack did was selfish, but somehow justified. At this point I wasn’t sad about it, I was mad. He left me to deal with the mess he started. He left me alone . The one thing he had promised to never do again. Not after the Refuge and Skittery. Not after everything we had been through together. 

What little was left of my heart, of my soul, broke.

"Eh, Josie! Ya coming?" Racetrack yelled from the window. Fuck it all.

"Imma comin', Race!" I screamed back, my anger increasing. I grabbed Jack’s hat and put the string around my neck so the hat was resting on my back. Downstairs there was a meeting with all the leaders of the boroughs with boys who worked for all the newspapers in New York. Trying to figure out what to do next was going to be impossible. When I walked in, everyone was yelling at each other. The bunks had been pushed to the sides of the room. About fifteen boys, all around my age or older, stood in the middle of the room.

"Shut it!" I commanded. Be the bitch they all know you are. Everyone stared at me. "Look if we'se gonna try an' figure this out we need ta work together."

"An’ why should we listen ta a girl?" a tall, light haired boy in the back asked. Hit him.

"What's your name, kid?" I spat.

"Muddy, da leader of Queens," he stated proudly. The rest of the boys cleared a path as I slowly stalked towards him.

"Well Muddy, guess who's next in line ta run 'Hattan?" I paused my speech, but continued walking. "I'll give ya a hint. Starts wit an 'M' ends wit an 'E'. Me. An’ who started this strike? 'Hattan," I stocked closer to him. "Now who does dat put in charge...? Me." I was up in his face now. "An’ if ya don't agree wit dat, then get out." I pointed at the door. 

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.

"Now that's more like it,” I said with a grin. “Anyone else?" I took a step back and whipped around to see boys taller, older, and probably stronger than me cower in fear. "Good.” I turned to look at Dave. “Now Davey, what's da plan?"

"Well, there's not much we can do besides strike. Denton's left us to fend for ourselves and the rest of the papers won't print strike news. The best we can do is wait," he said.

"Wait for what? Another striker ta betray us?" a shorter boy on my left questioned.

"No way, Biggs. Anyone else who betrays us, we soak 'em," another boy said with a grin. Go get ‘em, Jo.

I ignored Jack’s voice in my head and groaned loudly. "Did you’se hear nothin’ we said at da rally? We gotta stick together. Pulitzer bribed me an' Jack to try an’ end this strike. Trust me, this strike will end if we fight each other. We need to leave da traitors alone, especially Jack. Show 'em dat we don't need 'em to win."

"But Jack said-" Someone tried to speak up, I cut them off. Fuck him!

"Doesn't matter what Jack said! I'm in charge now. No one's gonna hurt anyone an’ no one's gonna believe a word dat comes out of dat traitors mouth. It just ain’t happenin’. Everyone understand?" I spun around to look at all the leaders. They all nodded. "Good. Now spread the word." As they were leaving, Mush walked up to me.

"Eh, Josie. Ya okay?" Don’t let them see you break.

"Yeah. Just mad about everythin’."

"Well-" Mush was interrupted by Spot with Race behind him.

"What was dat, Josie?!" 

"What was what?"

“You just decided to put yourself in charge?” He asked.

“Yeah I did. It's not like you'd ever put me in charge. I’se just your weak little sister. And it’s not like Davey’s got the guts ta lead either!” I spat back at him.

“Hey, I would’ve started leading if you had let me get more than a sentence out!” Davey challenged. 

Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms I said, “Oh go run and cry to your mudder.” Davey opened his mouth to respond but Race beat him to it.

"And da Queens boy! Why da hell did ya do dat?!"

"Well I was tryin' ta prove a point, Racetrack." 

Spot spoke up in response. "Ya 'cause I'se sure it was only 'bout provin' a point. Not about how Jack broke ya heart today or anythin'. Right?" He caught you in the lie, Jo.

"Yeah, well so what if he broke my heart? We don’t need him! I don’t need him. He saved us countless times an' then just decides 'oh wow, let's just leave everyone I love all of a sudden’?! It just don’t make any sense!" 

Blink cut me off. “Quit fightin’! All of you’se. What did you just say about fightin’ Josie?”

“To not ta,” I mumbled. Reign it in, sweetheart.

“Exactly,” Blink continued. “Just ‘cause we’se all mad at Jack don’t mean we needa get mad at each other too.” We all looked around at each other. I turned and started towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Davey called after me. Somewhere I can cry without everyone freaking out.

“I need air, no one follow me.” The second I got out of the front door I started running. I felt Jack's cowboy hat bounce against my back. I ran to where Jack had been earlier, where he was still. Somehow he knew it was me. Because he loves you.

"How'd ya know I'd be here?" the traitor asked, not turning around.

"It's a good spot ta sell papes," I replied, leaning against the wall. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Yeah, I guess." Jack turned towards me. My thoughts stopped.

"Why?" I asked, my voice somehow calm. "Why did ya think it was smart to take up Pulitzer's offer? Did ya always plan to leave me in this hell hole alone?" 

"I wasn't gonna leave ya alone." He swiped a hand down his face. "You had Spot and Race and Mush and the rest of the newsies. Ya weren't gonna be alone."

"No,” I snapped, my annoyance rising. “You’re selfish, dat’s why. You don’t care about nobody but yourself. Why'd ya have ta be so stupid, Jack?" I stood up straight and tore my hands through my hair.

"They could take care of ya. What could I do!? Get ya put back in the Refuge? I won’t do dat to you again."

"We survived together for years in the Refuge and for years on our own. What's gonna happen to me when I'se caught and you ain't there? Huh?" I took a few steps closer to him. "Me an' Spot would be dead without ya and what do ya wanna do? Up and leave us... me ! Why can't ya understand that I need ya Jack?"

"I had ta keep ya safe! You'se only safe witout me!" Jack yelled back.

"Stop being so stupid, Kelly! I'm safe with you and no one else. Why can't ya understand that?! What'cha gonna do when I'm dead cause you ain’t here to protect me?!"

"You're wrong, Josie. Completely wrong. I'm a mess! My life is a mess dat you don't need to deal wit!" He poked me in the chest as he spoke.

"What if I wanna deal wit it?! What if my life isn't the same witout ya? Huh?" I brought my fist up to his face, ready to punch him. Jack stopped me by grabbing my wrist.

"You gotta stop doing that."

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"Saying thins' that make me wanna kiss ya." 

Oh, shit. What?

I took a step back and looked down at my feet. “You got no right to say dat to me, not after all of dis.” I shook my head and took another step back. “I got one more question, before I leave ya to your papes.” I took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “Did the strike eva matter?” Before he could answer I quickly and quietly asked my last question, voice cracking. “Did I eva’ matter?”

There was a beat of silence before Jack answered. “No, none of it eva mattered, not even you.” You’re too broken. You’re nothing.

“Then what about all those thins’ you just said to me?”

“I lied. I lied about it all.” This lie flew out of his mouth with ease. I took another deep breath to suppress my tears. You don’t matter to me, or anyone.

“Fine. I was just makin’ sure. Have a good life, Cowboy. Hope ta neva see ya again,” I spun on my heel and walked away from him. 

Tears ran down my face as I remebered every terrible thing I’ve ever thought about myself. I was so broken I didn’t even know what to do. 

I slowly made my way back to the Manhattan lodging house and climbed up to my safe haven. Successfully avoiding everyone, I sat on the fire escape and put the cowboy hat on my head. 

"Folks we finally got a headline, 'Newsies Betrayed After Bulls Attack'. Jack's still callin' me. Dumb scabs too good at lyin'." I sang. "Guys are fightin', bleedin', fallin' thanks to good 'ol Grandpa Joe. They won't let me just close my eyes and go!" I ripped Jack's hat off my head. "Let me go… Far away… Somewhere they won't eva' find me and tomorrow won't remind me of today. When da city's finally sleepin'. And the moon looks old and grey. I get on a train that's bound for Santa Fe." I looked out at Manhattan with a sad smile on my face. 

"And I'm gone and I'm done. No more runnin'. No more lyin'. No more fat old man denyin' me my pay. Just a moon so big and yellow, it turns night right into day. Dreams come true. Yeah, they do. In Santa Fe." I stood up and walked to the other side of the roof. "Where does it say you gotta live and die here? Where does it say a gal can't catch a break? Why should you only take what you're given? Why should you spend your whole life livin' trapped where there ain't no future? Even at 17. Breakin' your back for someone else's sake,'' I spat, still singing. I started pacing around the roof. 

"If the life don't seem to suit you, how about a change of scene? Far from the lousy headlines and the deadlines in between!" I stopped at the fire escape railing and slammed my hands down on it. "Santa Fe! My old friend! I can't spend my whole life dreaming, though I know that's all I seem inclined to do. I ain't getting any younger. And I wanna start brand new." I pointed out at the skyline in time with my next sentences. "I need space. And fresh air. Let 'em laugh in my face. I don't care. Save my place. I'll be there…” I sat down on the fire escape again.

"Just be real is all I'm askin'. Not some paintin' in my head. Cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today. I got nothin' if I ain't got Santa Fe!" I finished singing.

Would I let ya down? No way, I remembered Jack's promise. Liar.

Chapter Text

Friday- July 28, 1899

Legs numb, head pounding, I woke up with a start. I quickly got up, searching for the closest exit. All I saw was darkness. Running straight ahead, I fell into an abyss of nothingness. The Delaney brothers' laughs echoed in my head.

I actually woke up to pitch black Manhattan. Sitting up on the blankets, I tried to calm my pounding heart and quick breathing. I had told Jack a couple days ago that the nightmares get when he’s not around. I wasn’t lying. This was the second one to wake me up tonight. Too broken , a voice echoed.

Knowing sleep was nowhere near in my future, I stood up and quietly made my way into the lodging house. Snores and rustling could be heard all around me. Spot lay in Jack’s bed. I was surprised he didn’t go back to Brooklyn. A pang of guilt hit me- he’s just as worked up over Jack’s betrayal as I am . 

The three of us had been inseparable since birth. After Jack and I had been sent to the Refuge and escaped, Spot probably felt like we ditched him. We were Jack and Josie, conjoined at the hip. Spot was left in the dust. I felt really bad and guilty all of a sudden. You’re the worst sister ever. He had Brooklyn though, so maybe I was overreacting. I made a mental note to talk to him later.

I walked through the bedroom, then the bathroom, down the stairs, and out the front door. I closed it as quietly as I could. I started wandering the streets of New York, no destination in mind. I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it with a match. My mind wandered. 

Being a part of this strike was already taking a toll on me. I couldn’t even imagine how I would feel after leading it. There was no end in sight. With Jack gone, Pulitzer wouldn’t relent at all. You’re done for. Who knew how long it would take before we had to give up. My worry increased the more I thought about it. 

Blowing out a breath from my cigarette, I noticed I had unconsciously walked to Medda’s theater. I walked to the side entrance to see if it was unlocked. It was. I walked in and locked the door behind me. 

The lights were all off so I flipped on a lamp backstage. I looked around the makeshift room and all it did was remind me of Jack, again. I have to get out of New York, but even the thought of Santa Fe reminds me of him. I walked over and sat on the ratty, old couch that Jack and I had spent many hours on. Talking, sleeping, and listening to the shows Medda put on. Putting out my cigarette with the ashtray on the side table, I laid down on the cushions. 

I don’t know how long I laid on that couch, thinking. At some point the side door opened again, but I didn’t care to look. My mind was still wandering. I’d never let you down. Broken. The worst. Not worth anything.

"Josie? Are you okay? What are you doing here?" Medda asked. "Where's Jack?" That question broke me out of my dream-like state. 

"He's wit Pulitzer," I stated, sitting up and looking at her.

"What?"

I took a deep breath and started explaining. I told her everything that’d happened in the past week. Wow, it’s only been a week? As I ended my story, I looked down at my hands. “Sorry Medda, I shouldn’t have come.”

“Oh, Josie. You’re always welcome to come here. Always have been and always will be.” She sat down and covered my hand with her own. “Are you okay?” Medda looked at me with such care that for once in my life, I wanted to open up.

“Oh, Medda!” I started to cry. “For years, all I’ve ever felt is broken, and like nothin’ or no one can fix me.” She pulled me into a hug as I kept talking. “All I do is ruin things and I feel like no one actually likes me. I feel like they keep me around out of pity. The voices in my head tell me all these terrible thins about myself and I believe them. And Jack leavin’ just proves that, it’s his voice in my head Medda. He thinks all these bad thins about me.” I started sobbing.

“Oh, Josie,” Medda continued to stroke my hair as I calmed down a little bit.

“Medda, he's the only one who ever made me feel safe. When he's around... those voices in my head go quiet. Like his real voice drowns 'em out just by existing.” 

“Doll, he loves you.”

“Yeah well, he sucks at showin’ it.”

“Don’t we all?” I sniffed and looked at her. “When we love someone we allow them to be able to hurt us. We just need the confidence in them that they won’t ever try to hurt us. And we need the confidence in ourselves to never let anyone truly destroy us. Jack had a reason to do what he did, and you have to trust that he never meant to hurt you on purpose.” I nodded and wiped some tears away. 

“Thank you, Medda.”

“Of course, my love. I mean where better to escape trouble than the theater?”

“I guess you’se right,” I answered, looking over at her. “Oh Medda, what should I do?” We sat in silence for a few seconds as more people started walking in, ready to start the work day. I looked around confused. “And what time is it?”

Medda laughed and looked at the clock behind us. “Quarter to ten, kid. And about your situation. Do what your heart tells you to.” I groaned in response and fell against the back of the couch. “Fine, fine,” Medda surrendered. “I know Jack. And I know you. He’ll come around because he loves you, and the rest of those boys.”

“Why would he leave then?” I asked, echoing her previous response. A man came over and whispered to Medda. She turned to him and nodded, then turned back to me.

“I don’t know, baby. That’s a question only Jack could answer.” I groaned again. “It’ll be okay, Josie. I know it will. While you're here though, why don’t I put you to work? There are a few of Jack’s paintings that need some touching up.” A man ran out from the stage as we both stood up.

“Miss Medda! You’re on!” He exclaimed at us. 

“I am? How am I doing?” She laughed at her joke but he just stood there looking at her. She twisted to me and I started laughing and she joined in. “I’ll see you in a bit Josie,” Medda said as she walked towards the stage with a wink. 

~

As I was painting, the voices in my head were quiet. A couple hours later Medda walked over to me. “Here’s everything I owe you for the first backdrop you fixed. Plus this one. And even a little something extra, just because I’m gonna miss you so.”

“Miss Medda-”

She cut me off. “Josie!” Medda offered me the envelope of money. I reluctantly took and slipped it into my pocket.

I softly smiled at her saying, “You’re a gem.” I gave her a quick hug.

“Just tell me you’re going somewhere, and not running away.” I scoffed at her and started walking away. 

“Does it matta?”

“When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else.” Medda paused and took a step forward. “But if you’re running away, nowhere is ever the right place.”

"There you are!" Davey said as he came stomping in from the sidedoor. "Well how about lettin’ a pal know you’re alive!”

“Why don’t I leave you too alone?” Medda patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

 “Where did you go? We couldn’t find ya,” Davey repeated. 

"Did you ever think I didn’t wanna be found?" I said going back to the scenery I was fixing.

"Is that a real place, that Santa Fe?" he pointed at the canvas. "Guess what? They put me in charge after you left!"

"Good for you." 

"Every borough is with us now. How ‘bout that?"

"We’se gonna get stomped to da ground, Dave," I pointed out, still painting.

"Yeah, they got us last time, I’ll grant you that, with Jack an’ all. But we took round one. Our fight is far from over," Davey fought back. He kneeled down next to me and I turned to face him.

"Every newsie who could walk was out this mornin’, sellin’ papes like the strike neva' even happened!" I stood in anger. Davey matched me and followed me to the brushes and paint.

"And I was right there with ‘em. If I don’t sell papes, my folks don’t eat, but-" I cut him off.

"Save your breath, I get it, it’s hopeless." Davey ignored me and continued.

"But then I saw this look on Weasel’s face. He was actually nervous! And I realized, this isn’t over. We got ‘em worried, really worried! And I walked away. Lots of other kids did too, and that is what you call a beginning!" Dave exclaimed. I heard more people walk in from backstage. I looked up to see Les with Spot following close behind him. 

"There she is, just like I said!" Les said.

"For cryin’ out loud, where's a gal gotta go to get away from you people?" I started cleaning up the paint brushes.

"Ah, there’s no escaping us, pal. We’re inevitable," Davey said, walking past me and hitting me across the head. He walked over to the other two boys.

"So what’s the story, is she back in yet?" Les asked.

"Pipe down! I didn’t ask yet," Dave hissed.

"What’s the hold up? I need to let my girl know she can meet her."

"Your girl?" Davey asked.

"You heard me. Been swattin’ skirts away all week. Fame is one intoxicating potion. And this here girl, Sally… she’s a plum."

Spot chuckle before walking over and saying, "You look like hell." I gave him a look. He’s your brother, he loves you. The thought shocked me.

"Hey, Josie. Where’s that supposed to be?" Les asked, standing on some boxes..

"It’s Santa Fe," answered Davey. Spot groaned. They crowded around me and the painting.

“It’s not mine,” I interjected. I started cleaning my hands in a water bucket.

"I gotta tell you, Josie. This 'go west, young man' routine you an' Jack got goin' is gettin' tired. Even Horace Greeley moved back to New York," Spot complained.

"Yes he did. And then he died," Les added.

"Aren't you supposed to be running a strike?" I asked them, walking towards the painting again, drying my hands off.

"I dunno. Aren't ya supposed to stick by your friends?" pushed Spot. He’s comparing you to me, Jack’s voice argued. No he’s not , mine argued back, he’s worried about me.

"Can’t we table the palabber and get back to business?" Les prompted. Dave shushed him and continued. 

"That's what I've been trying to tell her. You need to get back in the strike," Dave commanded, walking to me. "And we need your help to get all the other non-skriking newsies to strike. We might have another, smaller rally. Smart, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, smart enough to get ya committed to a padded room," I said.

"Wow, the girl who paints places she’s neva seen is calling us crazy?" Spot mocked. Oh, he’s mad about something. 

"Ya wanna see a place I seen, huh? How 'bout this." I pointed at him then turned the backdrop around. There was a cartoon of Pulitzer stepping on newsies’ backs. "Newsies Square. Thanks to mine and Jack's big mouths, filled to overflowin’ with failure. Kids hurt, others arrested!"

"Lighten up! No one died." I heard Davey scoff. I whipped to face him.

"Oh is that what you’re aimin' for!? Go on, go on, call me a coward, call me a quitter! Ain’t no way I’se putting them kids back in danger."

"We’re doing something that’s never been done before! How can that not be dangerous?" insisted Dave.

"Specs brought me a note from Crutchy at the refuge." I held up the letter I had just read hours earlier. "I went back there and tried to see him. Went around back and climbed the fire escape. They busted him up so bad, again , he couldn’t even come to the window.” I looked between all three of them. Les looked over at Spot, scared. He put his hand on Les's shoulder. “Now what if he don’t make it, huh? Are you…are you willin’ ta shoulder that?” I pointed at the cartoon again. “For what, half a penny a pape?"

"It’s not about the pennies, Josie! Jack said it himself. My family wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in if my father had a union.” I started to walk away but he grabbed my arm. I yanked away from him. “This is a fight we have to win!" 

I got up in his face. "If I wanted a sermon, I’d show up for church!”

"…Tell me how quitting does Crutchy any good," Davey demanded. I took a breath to answer but he cut me off. "Exactly.”

“So here's how it goes once we win, and we will be winning, make no mistake-” Davey sang.

I interrupted by singing, “We'll be what?”

“We're already winning,” answered Davey.

“Oh, right,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“And we'll tell them straight out, they let Crutchy go or they keep getting pounded.” He fake punched me and I backed away.

“Dave, what the hell? Did they bust up your brains or somethin'?” I grabbed his head and continued singing. “As I recall Dave we all got our asses kicked. They won!” I yelled at him.

Dave reasoned, “Won the battle.”

“Oh, come on.” I walked away towards where Spot and Les watched us.

“Josie, think about it, we got them surrounded!”

I stopped walking but kept singing. “An’ here's where I think. Joe's a jerk, he's a rattlesnake.”

“You're right,” Davey answered. “And you know why a snake starts to rattle?”

“No, why?” 

“'Cause he's scared.”

“Oh, sure,” I responded with an eye roll. 

“Go and look it up. The poor guy's head is spinning.” Grabbing my head, Dave continued. “Why would he send for the goons, an entire army? Dozens of goons plus the cops. And-”

“You know you may be right,” I offered, pulling away.

Davey cheered, throwing his hands up. “Thank you, God!”

“If he wasn't afraid-”

“Exactly-”

I turned to look at Dave as we both sang. “He knows we're winning!”

“Get those kids to see we're circling victory.” I walked over to the crates Les was on as the other three sang to me. “And watch what happens.” I stood on a box and started singing with them.

“We're doing something no one's even tried. And, yes, we're terrified, but watch what happens.”

I jumped off the crate continuing, “You can't undo the past.”

“So just move on-” Dave prompted. Spot joined in.

“And stay on track.”

Les added, “Stay on track!”

All of us started singing again. “'Cause humpty dumpty is about to crack!”

“We've got faith!” Spot sang.

Davey followed. “We've got the plan!”

“And we've got Josie!” Les finished, jumping off the crates and pointing at me.

“So just watch what happens. We're back!” Everyone finished singing and hugged me. 

"And I've got a date!" Les yelled. Spot and I laughed as Dave hit the back of his head.

"So you're in?" Davey asked as he spit into his hand and stuck it out. I spit into my own hand and shook his.

"I'm in." Spot ran and hugged me unbelievably tight. 

You’re worth it. They love you. You’re perfect the way you are.

Chapter Text

Saturday- July 29, 1899

Chanting was heard from all around me. "Stop The World! No more papes!" I smiled in pride. This was my strike now. Not Jack's, not Pulitzer's, mine. I am the leader and I’m going to give up, we’se too far along to stop. My smile faltered a bit as I looked around. Our numbers were low today. There were only about half of the number of boys we'd had two days ago. If reinforcements didn't come we'd be in big trouble.

Silence overcame us as a large group of newsies walked into the square with us. Many of the boys that should have been striking were getting ready to buy newspapers. I saw familiar faces in that crowd and my heart hurt for them. Looking through the bars of the gate, Jack was nowhere to be seen but I knew he was there. 

The Delancey brothers walked up to us. "Oh heya, Oscar," I said, grinning. That’s my girl.

"Looks like it was bum information we got about a strike happening here today. Not that I'm complaining, my skull-busting arm could use a day of rest," he hissed. He pounded his fist then walked away.

I felt a tug on my sleeve. "Are we doin' the right thing, Josie?" Les asked when I looked down at him.

"Sure we are," Davey answered, walking up to me.

"Maybe we could just put this off a couple days," offered Race, following him.

Dave turned to everyone and said, "No, we can't just put this off..." He turned to me. "Say something! Tell them if we back down now, they'll never listen to us again." I nodded at him and looked at the newsies. 

"Aye, aye! We can't back down now, alright, no matter who does or doesn't show. Like it or not, now is when we take a stand. Pulitzer thinks that Jack betrayin' us will tear us apart so we gotta show him it ain’t gonna," I said to the newsies.

"How's about we just don't show up for work? That'll send a message," a boy I didn't recognize threw out. Gotta make ‘em understand.

"They'll just replace us! They need to see us stand our ground! Davey, you tell 'em..."

"I don't know what to say." I gave Davey a look and he sighed. "Okay, okay."

He looked around nervously and anxiously started singing. “Now is the time to seize the day. Stare down the odds and seize the day. Minute by minute that's how you win it. We will find a way. But let us seize the day.”

"Hey Specs!" I called. "Any sign of reinforcements?" Specs shook his head from up in his perch. Alright, Davey, your plan better work… The morning bell rang and the gates to the distribution center opened. The group here to work walked through the gates. 

Davey continued singing, a little louder this time. “Courage cannot erase our fear, Courage is when we face our fear. Tell those with power, safe in their tower, ‘We will not obey!’” He had walked to the gate and I joined him, laying my hand on his shoulder. Dave is the most loyal newsie you’ll ever meet.

“Behold the brave battalion that stands side by side, too few in number and too proud to hide,” We both sang. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack walk out of the distribution center and get in line. I made eye contact with him as we sang our next line. “Then say to the others who did not follow through, ‘You're still our brothers, and we will fight for you!’” Jack looked away from us and moved up in line. He loves you, he has his reasons.

“Now is the time to seize the day, Stare down the odds and seize the day.” Spot joined us singing as we slowly walked into the courtyard. 

Soon all the newsies behind us joined in. “Once we've begun, If we stand as one Someday becomes somehow. And a prayer becomes a vow.”

I stood proud and tall with a smile on my face, exclaiming, “And the strike starts rightin' now!” We ran fully into the courtyard of the distribution center. Weasel walked up to me followed by the Delancey brothers.

"The sun is up, the birds is signin', it’s a beautiful day to crack some heads. Step right up and get your papers," he said.

"Hey, you’re workin or trespassing. What’s your pleasure?" asked Morris. 

The rest of the newsies behind me must have noticed the other boys buying newspapers because Dave asked, "Hey, who are they?"

"Scabs, what do ya think?" I said, turning my head behind me. Soak ‘em good.

"They think they can just waltz in here and take our jobs," spat Skittery.

"We can handle 'em!" Spot said.

"Lets soak 'em boys!" Race added.

"Hold it, hold it! We all stand together or we don't have a chance. Josie!" Davey called.

"Yeah I know, I hear ya." I turned back to the scabs. "Listen, fellas, I know someone put you'se up to this. They're probably payin' ya some extra money too, yeah? Well it ain't right! Pulitzer thinks we'se gutter rats with no respect for nothin', includin' each other. Is that what we are, huh? Well, we stab each other in the back and yeah, that's who we are. But if we stand together, we can change the whole game." I paused. 

"And it ain't just about us. All across this city, there are boys and girls who should be out playin', or goin' to school but instead they'se slavin' to support themselves and their folks! Ain't no problem in being poor, and not a one of us complains if da work we do is hard. All we ask is a square deal! Fellas, for the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in New York, I beg you, join us. Throw down your papers and join the strike."

"Please?" Les added, holding up his intertwined hands. We stood in silence for a second before one of the scabs came up to me and got in my face. I held my ground. Don’t let him see your fear.

"I'm with ya!" He threw down his papes. Everyone behind me cheered.

“Now is the time to seize the day!” Davey sang.

The rest of us echoed him. “Now is the time to seize the day!”

“Answer the call and don't delay!”

“Answer the call and don't delay!”

All of us sang together this time. “Wrongs will be righted, if we're united. Let us seize the day!” More scabs threw their papes down and joined us. One of the scabs grabbed another who was walking towards us.

"You're kiddin me, right?" he asked. The original boy pulled away.

"At the end of the day, who’re you gonna trust? Them," he gestured to us, "or them?" The scab joined us as he gestured to the Delanceys. There were around ten boys who hadn't joined us, including Jack. 

I stood on some crates singing. “Now let 'em hear it loud and clear!”

“Now let 'em hear it loud and clear!” The newsies echoed me this time.

“Like it or not we're drawing near!”

“Like it or not we're drawing near!”

“Proud and defiant, We'll slay the giant, judgment day is here!” We sang together again.

"Oh, what the hell. My fathers gonna kill me anyway!" the scab from before said as he threw down his papes.

“Houston to Harlem, look what's begun. One for all and all for one!” We finished singing. But we all started chanting. “Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Strike! Oh! Strike!”

I started matching. Dave joined me then the rest of the newsies joined. The newsies started dancing as the rest of us cleared out of the way. They did tons of flips and tricks. Les brought out a paper and ripped it in half and stood on it. We all joined in and danced on the papers.

The Delaneys walked back out. Oscar came up to me and attacked me. I was thrown down to the ground. From my position, I saw Weasel grab Jack by the back of his shirt, rendering him immovable. The boys attacked the Delancey’s one by one. You gotta do this without me, Jo.

Morris walked up and grabbed Les. "Davey! Josie! Help me! Put me down!" Davey grabbed Les and put him in a barrel. 

“Stay down!” Davey said to Les. 

We had gotten the Delanceys to their knees. Les climbed out of the barrel and bashed their heads together. We all cheered, and started singing again.

“Now is the time to seize the day. They're gonna see there's hell to pay. Nothing can break us. No one can make us quit before we're done. One for all and all for..... One for all and all for.....One for all and all for one!” We all clapped for a bit and danced around.

“Newsies forever, second to none. One for all, and all for one!” We finished our song and cheered. 

I went and stood in front of the boys who hadn't joined us. "So ya in!?" I asked. They all looked around at each other. Jack was still staring at me. No one left the little group they had made.

"Okay. It's you're choice ta join us or not. We'll let ya leave ta sell ya papes." The boys behind me pushed to get to the scabs. I put my hands out. "Eh! Let 'em go, boys." The scabs walked away in surprise. “C’mon boys lets keep strikin’,” I said to everyone else, leading them out of the distribution center.

Everyone picked their signs back up and continued where they had left off. I sat at the bottom of the Horace Greely statue and leaned my head back against it. Closing my eyes, I breathed in deeply. I felt someone sit next to me and I opened one eye to see my brother.

“Hey Spot,” I said to him. He sighed in response before opening his mouth to speak.

“ Look, I’se glad you saved everyone and all dat, but it’s time someone told you to take care of you.”

“I’m fine,” I insisted. He loves you and wants the best for you.

 “No you’se not.” I signed and opened my eyes to look at him.

“I’se just tired. Ya know I don’t sleep well, and it’s always worse witout… witout Jack.” Spot nodded in response and I continued. “How are you, about the Jack thin an’ all?”

He shook his head and said, “I can’t believe he’d do dis, especially to you.” 

“This ain’t about me, it’s about you,” I insisted.

“I love Jack, he’s mi brudder. But when I’se around you too, I dunno…” He trailed off.

“You feel left out?” I offered. Be better. Spot nodded in response. I reached over and gave him a big hug. “I’m sorry, Spot. I should’ve noticed sooner. I ain’t eva’ think ‘bout how you would feel about Jack and I bein’ so close, let alone think about how you felt about him leavin’ us. I’se such a bad sister.” No you’re not,

“Yeah, you are,” he said with a small smile, bumping my shoulder with his own. “It don’t matter dat much, no more. I know you love him, in a different way den I do.” I felt color rise to my cheeks. “An’ I know he feels da same way too, even if he stinks at showin’ it.” He stood and offered me a hand. “C’mon, Josie. You’se got a strike ta run.”

~

I was walking back to Brooklyn after spending the afternoon in Manhattan. Because of mine and Spot’s talk earlier I had decided we needed to spend time together at home. The streets were dark but I knew the way like the back of my hand. 

Suddenly, I was pulled into an alley. Someone slammed me into the wall. I felt a hot breath on my neck.

"Heya, darling," Oscar Delancey said. "Wanna give me something?"

"Whatta ya want, Oscar?"

"You. I want you to give up on this stupid strike."

"Neva." I spat.

"I guess I'll have to beat it outta you." He backed away and punched me in the stomach. I fell to the ground but slid my foot and tripped him. Oscar quickly got up but I was ready this time.

He swung, I dodged. I faked him out and got a good hit to his jaw. To my dismay, he grabbed my hand and pulled back his other hand. Oscar hit me hard enough to knock me back to the alleyway floor. 

"Don't get up darling. Just say you'll quit the strike. You can't fight for much longer. Just give up," Oscar taunted.

"I can do this all day," I said, standing up.

"No you can't," a voice behind me said.

I turned and a splitting pain seared into my brain. The world went black.

Chapter Text

Sunday- July 30, 1899

I drifted in and out of consciousness. Faces and memories flashed across my mind. The good memories became less prominent than the bad ones. Visions of being chased down dusty New York streets by Jack or the memories of Spot and I laughing late into the night were covered by cold nights stuck on the streets or in the Refuge.

One good memory stuck. I played it on repeat in my head. Life had never seemed so simple then, so easy. 

~

I heard the clatter of someone getting up as I forced my eyes open. Jack shifted the weight of his arm off of me and sat up, sighing. 

“Hey, where ya goin'?" He sleepily called across the rooftop to Crutchy, laying a hand on my back. "Da mornin' bell ain't rung yet, go back ta sleep." I turned my head slightly to look at Crutchy.

"I wanna beat da other fellas to da streets. I don’t want anyone ta see that I ain’t, uh… been walkin’ so good," Crutchy responded with a sheepish grin. He had just finished putting on his vest and hat.

Jack grabbed the drawings he'd been working on last night while saying, "Oh, quit gripin’. Ya know how many guys fake a limp for sympathy? That bum leg of  yours is a goldmine!" He stood, quickly put the drawings away, and nudged me with his foot. "Get up sweetheart.” I groaned and rolled over, pretending to be asleep. “Whatever,” Jack said with a smile in his voice.

"Someone gets the idea I can’t make it on my own, they’ll lock me up in da refuge for good." Crutchy continued. "Be a pal, Jack, help me down. Wow!" I heard a clatter then a gasp. I sat up as Jack ran to stop Crutchy from falling down to the street.

"What, ya wanna bust ya other leg too?!” I said.

"No, I wanna go down,” he responded back, with a small grin. I scoffed, stood up, and started getting dressed. 

"You’ll be down there soon enough. Take a moment, drink in my penthouse." Jack gestured out at the city. "High above the stinkin’ streets of New York." He emphasized his point with a smack against the rail. 

"You’re crazy," Crutchy commented. I went and stood next to Jack, buttoning up my shirt.

"Why, cause he likes a breath of fresh air? Cause he likes seein’ the sky and the stars," I added, gesturing out to the sky.

"Yeah, you’re seein’ stars alright,” Crutchy scoffed. Rolling my eyes, I leaned into Jack and he put his arm around me.

"Them streets down there, they sucked the life right outta my old man. Years a’ rotten jobs, stomped on by bosses, an' when they finally broke him, they tossed him da the curb."

"Just like yesterday’s paper," I breathed.

"Well they ain’t doin that ta me!" Jack yelled out to the skyline.

"But everyone wants to come here," defended Crutchy.

"New York’s fine, for those who got a big, strong door to lock it up. I tell ya Crutchy- there’s a whole 'nudda way out there," I explained, standing up straight. Jack’s hand slide down to my hip.

"So, you keep your small life in the big city. Give me a big life, in a small town,” Jack trailed off. "They say folks is dyin' to get here. Me? I'm dyin' to get away. To a little town out west, that's spankin' new… " He let go of me and leaned his forearms on the rail and continued to sing out to the city. I cut in.

"And while I ain't never been there, I can see it clear as day. If ya want, I bet'cha you could see it, too." Jack stood and gestured for Crutchy to come and stand on the other side of him.

Jack nudged Crutchy with his shoulder. "Close your eyes, come with me. Where it's clean and green and pretty.” Jack waved his hand in front of Crutchy’s closed eyes then turned and grinned at me. “And they went and made a city outta clay. Why, the minute that ya get there, folks'll walk right up and say, 'Welcome home, son'."

"Welcome home to Santa Fe!" Jack and I sang together. 

"Plantin' crops," he sang.

Still singing, I added, "Splittin' rails." 

"Swappin' tales around the fire."

"Oh! 'Cept for Sunday when you lie around all day." 

"Soon your friends are more like family. And they's beggin' you to stay!" Jack grinned down at me.

"Ain't that neat? Livin' sweet, in Santa Fe!" We sang.

"Got folks there?" Crutchy asked us.

"We got no folks nowhere. You?" Jack responded.

"Nah, I don’t need folks. I got friends." He grinned at us and lightly punched Jack’s arm.

"Hey, how’s about you come with us?” Jack asked, hitting Crutchy’s shoulder back. “No one cares about no gimp leg in Santa Fe! You just hop a palomino! You’ll ride in style!" He pranced around the roof, pretending to ride a horse.

"Yeah, picture me, ridin’ in style," Crutchy laughed.

"Hey, I bet a few months of clean air an’ you, you can toss that crutch for good!" I hugged him. We all began to sing as Jack walked back to us. 

"Santa Fe! You can bet, we won't let them bastards beat us. We won't beg no one to treat us fair an' square. There's a life that's worth the livin' and I'm gonna do my share!"

"Work the land!" I sang.

"Chase the sun!" sung Jack.

"Swim the whole Rio Grande just for fun!" We sang together and Jack pretended to swim.

Crutchy was almost in tears as he sang, "Watch me stand! Watch me run..."

"Hey, hey..." Jack coaxed to either side of him and put his arms around our shoulders. "Don't you know that we'se a family? Would I let ya down? No way. Just hold on, kid. 'Til that train makes Santa Fe..." The clang of the morning bell was heard across New York as adults and children alike would start heading to work.  

"Time for dreamin's done.”

~

The time for dreaming was done. It never should have started anyways. Who were we kidding? Who was I kidding? No one was going to save me.  No one knew where I was and no one cared. I was on my own and I had to survive this. Jack wasn't going to be my knight in shining armor this time.

He isn't coming back , whispered my head.

He has to , sobbed my heart.

Chapter Text

Sunday- July 30, 1899

3rd person POV

Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. It wasn't just guilt Jack was feeling, there was something else too. He could feel it in his gut as he got ready for the day. 

The Delancey brothers come stomping down the stairs with smug grins on their faces. Anyone could see that they were up to something.

"Wakey, wakey Sullivan," Oscar taunted.

"Get outta my way." Jack tried to get up the stairs but the Delanceys blocked him.

"The strikes gonna be over soon, then you can leave to your precious Santa Fe," Morris said.

"I don't care. Get outta my way, now." Quickly, Jack pushed past them and climbed up the stairs. He walked out of the distribution center to see a group of about ten boys standing around, waiting for their newspapers in the courtyard. The rest, including most of the other boroughs, were standing outside the gate in Newsies Square. The Manhattan newsies made up the first few rows of strikers.

The bell rang as Spot ran up to Race and Skittery, Jack turned slightly noticing them. Spot seems frantic , Jack thought as he walked up and grabbed his papers. Jack looked back to the Manhattan newsies again. They were all looking around kind of worried. Dave walked up to them and they began to talk again. His eyes got wide and he turned to Spot. Jack’s eyes scanned the crowd searching for whatever they were looking for. 

Jack’s heart stopped and his stomach dropped as he realized who was missing. Josie was gone. His brain went into panic mode. Where was she? Is she okay? What happened to her? Jack turned around and shoved his papers at Weasel. "Where are you going?" Weasel called out as Jack raced to the boys.

"Where is she?" He demanded, when he got to them.

"We don't know," Race said. "She was wit us last night then left for Brooklyn."

"But she didn't make it," Spot whispered.

"Aye! What's he doin' here?" a newsie asked.

"Yeah! Josie said he's a traitor!" another one echoed. Jack felt a deep pang in his chest.

"Let's go somewhere, where the others won't yell at us," Dave offered.

"Sullivan!" Jack turned to see Weasel marching up to him. "Where do you think you’re going?!"

"I quit," Jack spat. "Take your money," He handed Weasel a wad of money. "Take your clothes," Jack continued, taking off his jacket. "And take your job an' give it ta someone else!" Jack turned and started running. The other boys followed him.

"Sullivan!" Weasel screamed after their sprinting forms.

They all ran down a couple of streets before stopping, out of breath. Jack quickly turned down an alley, with the boys right behind him. They stopped and leaned against the walls.

Jack looked at all their faces. The other boys were the complete opposite of normal. Spot, the strong, fearless leader everyone was scared off, was kneeling on the floor in tears. Race, normally laughing and joking, was silent, a hard look on his face. Dave’s shy and kind face was gone. A look of determination and rage had taken its place. The smirk Mush was known for had disappeared. Instead, a look of shock was plastered on his face. Glum and dumb Skittery was pacing around, bitting his finger nails. Blink was sitting with his head in his hands and trying not to break down. And Jack? He was dying inside. Josie could be hurt in an alley somewhere or worse- she could be dead. 

Jack screamed and punched the brick wall next to me. The pain from his hand was covered by the pain of losing Josie. His Jo.

"Who saw her last?" Jack demanded, spinning to face the others. Everyone looked up at him.

"I did," Skittery said quietly. “She just wanted to see Spot. I asked her if she wanted me ta walk her back ta Brooklyn but she said she could make it herself." He looked at the ground. "I shouldn't have listened to her."

"It's not your fault, Skits," Race reassured, solemnly, with a hand on Skittery’s shoulder.

"It's mine," Jack whispered. "If I never accepted Pulitzer offer none of this would've happened! Without her the strike’s gonna be…" He trailed off, remembering something from earlier.

'The strike’s gonna be over soon then you can leave to your precious Santa Fe...' "The Delaneys!" Jack snarled, glaring at the rest of them. "They took her an' have her somewhere!"

"They would be my best guess for who took her. But it could be anyone," Davey said, starting to pace.

Blink looked up at Jack and said, "Dave's right. Anyone in da whole city could'a taken her." 

Jack groaned in response and pulled at his hair. "You'se aren't understanding. Delancey's told me, 'The strikes gonna be over soon then you can leave to Santa Fe…’” He let that hang in the air.

"Those bastards!" Spot yelled.

"Where are they so I can soak 'em!" Dave, unexpectedly, shouted.

"Stop!" Jack demanded, his arms spread wide. "Look. If we make the Delancey's tell us where she is, they could easily beat us to her and move her somewhere else. We have to find her ourselves." The boys look at him with faces full of determination. 

"How do we find her?" Mush asked.

"Dave?" Jack turned to him, prepared for the solution.

"Why do you think I have all the answers? I'm not some genius that has the answers to all the problems in the world! You all think that I have a bunch of answers in my head?! Well I don't! Not to this problem."

"Dave," Race walked up to him, put his hands on Dave's shoulders, and looked him in his eyes. "You'se da smartest one outta all of us. We need ya ta think. Not just for us, but for Josie too."

Davy sighed then grunted. "Fine," he said, "I can only think of two things we can do. One- we split into search parties and look for any place she could be in. Or two- we follow the Delancey's back to where they have her."

"We have to find her," Spot snapped.

"You don't think he knows dat?" Blink shot back.

"Hey! Stop it. Both of you," Jack commanded them, again. "The fastest way to get Josie back would be to do both. Me, Spot, and Race will follow-" He was cut off by chaos. Mush and Race were yelling at each other as Blink and Davy had ganged up on Spot. Skittery was screaming to Jack about wanting to go and get Josie.

"Shut it!" roared Jack. "Look. It's easier to sneak around with less people. So… Me, Spot, and Race'll go." Everyone started yelling and screaming again. "Hey, hey! It's obvious. Spot goes 'cause she's his sister, Race goes 'cause he's the strongest outta us all. And I go 'cause it's my fault she's missin'. Okay?” There were a few more mumbled protests. “No arguing. I mean it." They all silently agreed with nods. "Then I need the rest of you ta make search parties."

“This don’t mean we forgive ya, Jack,” Spot said. 

“I know but we need ta work together.” The other boys nodded. “We can do this, but first I need different clothes. Cowboy don’t belong in scab clothes,” Jack said with a small grin.. The boys all slightly smiled back at him. “We’se gonna find her.”

Chapter Text

Monday- July 31, 1899

It felt like I'd been here for years, yet it'd probably only been hours. My only company was a couple of rats and those bastards, the Delanceys. My hands and feet were chained, as a lay on the ground. The cuffs around my wrists dug into my skin with every move I made. And it's kinda hard to not move when you're getting beaten every other hour.

I slowly turned as I heard the metal door open then slam shut. My vision was foggy, one eye was swollen shut and the other had blood in it, but I turned to see Morris and Oscar clomping down the stairs. Oscar carried a whip as Morris was polishing his brass knuckles. You’re in for it, Josie.

"Hiya, darling" Oscar called down.

"Just 'cause I'm gone don't mean da strikes over," I slurred. It hurt to talk and I tasted more blood in my mouth. Morris walked to me and pulled me up by Jack's ripped shirt I was still wearing. It had dried into my skin with blood and hurt like hell when he pulled at it. Holy hell, dammit. I bit down on my lip at the pain, drawing even more blood. 

"Without you or Sullivan, they're screwed. With no leader it'll fall apart," whispered Morris in my ear.

"I ain't the only leader, y'know." Morris threw me onto the ground, hard. My body ached. Oscar whipped my back with his whip. Whatever was at the end of it tore into my back. I gasped at the agony, relentless in not letting them hear me scream. Hot blood dripped down my back. Don’t let them see you break.

"Who else is in charge?" Morris asked, sickly sweet, now standing over me

.

"I ain't tellin'." I felt my nose break again from his kick but still refused to say anything. Another kick landed on my already busted eye. I groan to hold back screams that would’ve echoed around the room. I rolled to my stomach to avoid his feet. 

"Tell us. You'll only get more hurt if you don't."

"No," I said, and spat blood onto the ground.

"Tell us!" Oscar boomed in complete rage. He started to hit my back with the whip rapidly.

"I won't ever tell you bastards!" I blurted as the whip tore through my skin again.

"You're gonna speand the rest of your miserable life here. It'll be a while till you die, darling." Oscar grinned. "Want a turn with the whip Morris?” he asked. Just breathe, you can get through this.

"It'd be my pleasure." 

Kick after kick, punch after punch, whip after whip. I couldn’t help but open my mouth to scream. Nothing came out, my voice had left with my will to live. Why didn't they just kill me already? It would be better than the pain they’re putting me through.

I heard a timid knock on the door above the stairs. Morris groaned and walked up the stairs. He ran back down and called Oscar over. They began to whisper.

"We gotta deal with your little lover-boy, Pulitzer. But we'll be back," Oscar promised with a grin, as the Delancy brothers walked out of the cellar

Finally all alone I let myself cry as I curled up into a ball on the floor. I had lost count of how many times the Delanceys had come down and beaten me. This one was the last straw. I just want to die. No one knows where I am. No one is going to come and save me. I’m completely and utterly alone.

The adrenaline had stopped pumping. The full pain of what had happened to me hit me like a wave. My eyes closed on their own.

~

I was awoken by the slam of the metal door and sounds of fighting upstairs. I prayed to every god that ever existed that the Delanceys hadn't found my brother or any of my friends. Someone ran down the stairs and gasped.

"Guys! I found her!" a familiar voice called out. The blood from my face had sealed my non-swollen eye shut and I worked my hardest to get it open. More people ran down the stairs. I heard a couple gasps and choked sobs come from them. I finally got my eyes open. 

At the bottom of the stairs stood Spot, Race, Davey, Skittery, Mush, Blink, and… Jack. I could barely lift up my head to look at them.

“Hey boys, took you long enough," I croaked out. I tried to grin but I was about to burst into tears. They found me. They actually found me. By some miracle, I’m saved.

"Get the keys!" Race yelled, unfreezing everyone. Davey raced up the stairs. He quickly came back down and handed the keys off to Skittery. Skittery ran over and ripped something off the wall. Morning light was let in. He tried to unlock my arms but his hands were shaking too much. 

"Skits," Jack offered, quietly. "I'll do it." He slowly walked over to me and took the keys from Skits. I forced myself to sit up as he squatted in front of me. Our eyes were level with each other. He looked at me with red-tinted eyes. Make him hurt.

"Traitor," I hissed. "I oughtta do what they did to me, to you. An' how do I know you ain't gonna just give me back to 'em?" Jack looked at me. His hair was a mess, and in the bright afternoon sunlight he looked more handsome and more human than I'd ever seen him. 

“They hurt you again and I’ll kill ‘em,” he promised, his voice deep and threatening. I slowly looked away before I started crying. He had sounded as broken as I felt. He held out his hand for me to give him my wrist. I accepted his help. 

I watched as his hands twisted my wrist to find the key hole. With steady hands, he unlocked one of the cuffs and moved to the next one. He seemed all calm, cool, and collected but then he missed the second key hole and I saw the slight tremor in his hand. Only someone who has spent years watching Jack would notice it. Only you would. 

When he was done, Spot came running up to me, sobbing. Jack moved away and stood to the side. Spot sank to the floor and carefully wrapped his arms around me. I was crying too. I gestured for the rest of the boys to come over and they joined us on the floor. We all hugged each other. They were careful not to touch my wounds and I started to laugh because everyone was crying.

I heard steps again and looked to see Jack climb back up the stairs. He deserves it. 

"Would ya help me upstairs guys?" Race and Mush helped to get me up and carried me up the stairs. "Now I really feel like a Queen," I commented, looking at Blink. He laughed through his tears. I looked around and saw we were inside the bottom floors of Pulitzer's office building. The rooms down here looked unused so the boys thought it was safe to set me down in a chair. Looking over, I saw the Delancey brothers laying on the floor, knocked out. 

"I'se don't think I can make it all the way to da boarding house or even Medda's, right now." I said with a groan.

"We need to get ya patched up fast," Davey said. "I'll go get bandages from my house.”

"I'll go an' tell da 'Hattan boys you'se okay," Race said, leaving with Davey.

"Spot. Go tell Brooklyn I'm okay," I ordered. He tried to protest but I stopped him. "Go." I looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping he’d understand. Please, Spot, please! His eyes hardened and then he nodded and walked away. "Blink, go with him just in case." I was now left with Mush, Skittery, and Jack. "Mush. Can you go take da Delanceys to da bulls?" I asked. He agreed and tried to drag them but couldn't. "Skits, help him. I'll be fine." Skittery also tried to protest but I stopped him. “Skittery. Go." Next thing I knew, they were gone. 

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. It was just me and Jack. Jack and me. That’s how it had always been, a single unit, a matched set. We used to be okay. We used to be everything. But now? Now the space between us felt like a canyon.

Chapter Text

Monday- July 31, 1899

The ache in my body was a dull, throbbing reminder of why we were here, but the one in my chest was sharper, deeper. I can’t just sit here and watch him. Gritting my teeth against the protest of my broken body, I forced myself to stand, my weight uneven, and tried to limp over to Jack. 

He was at my side in an instant, fueled by a reflex. His hand shot out, grabbing my elbow not with force, but with a desperate gentleness that somehow cut me deeper. Be careful. "Hey. Whatta ya doin'? Sit back down." His voice was rough with concern.

“Have I eva’ listened to you, Jack Kelly?” I asked, my voice trembling as I pulled my arm away from his hand. His touch felt like a brand. Just don’t get burnt again.

“No,” he admitted, a flicker of that old, frustrating fondness in his eyes, so quick I might have imagined it. “But that doesn’t mean I’se not right.”

“Oh, so you’se right?” I spat the words, taking a wobbly step forward. The room tilted, and I started to sway, the bravado crumbling to reveal the pain beneath. “I guess Jack Kelly is just always right! Were you right when you took Pulitzers offer?” The accusation hung between us, charged and bitter. “That hurt ya son of a bitch.” My voice broke, the tears I’d been fighting finally welling over. “More den anything the Delancey coulda done ta me.”

“Please, Josie, sit.” It wasn't a command anymore, it was a plea, stripped bare and raw.

Defeated, I plopped back down on the chair, the wood unforgiving against my wounds. “Your stupid plan didn’t even work,” I seethed, the words laced with a venom. “I told you, I told you!” My voice cracked, “I told you I was only safe with you and I was right. Look what they did to me!” I gestured wildly down to my body, a map of purple, blue, and red. “They tore me to shreds because you weren’t there to protect me.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy and raw. Jack sank down, squatted in front of my chair so his eyes were level with mine. Be so careful, Jo. 

“I told you why I did it.” His voice was rough. “I’se sorry I was wrong and I’se sorry dat they did all dis to you, but I’se not sorry about takin’ Pulitzer’s deal.” There’s the heartbreak again.

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped him, a sound I’d rarely heard from Jack before. “Everythin’ he said about the strike an’ me was true!” The declaration wasn't proud, it was a surrender. He was laying himself bare before me, and I could only watch, my own heart pounding.

He stood up abruptly and I watched him start to pace. Each step thundered through the quiet room. The sunlight coming in through the windows caught the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes, the desperate set of his jaw.

“Y’know he talked to me the day after I left you an’ Dave?” The memory twisted his features. “He was in his big office, surrounded by all dat… polished wood and velvet furniture. What was supposed to be your home. And he told me you were better off witout me.” Jack’s voice dropped to a haunted whisper, as if he were still in that room. “He said everythin’ I’se done has just hurt you.” He’s right, my brain snarled.

He stopped his pacing, his back to me, shoulders slumped under a weight I couldn’t see. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged pull of his breath. When he spoke again, the fight was gone, replaced by a devastating, absolute certainty that destroyed me.

“An’ he was right.” He turned back to me, and the raw, unguarded pain in his eyes hit me just as hard as the Delancys could.

“Because everythin’ I’se ever done in my life,” he whispered, the words cracking, “has been for you. Every risk, every foolish dream, every lie I told just to keep goin’… it was all so I could stand wit you. And look where it got us.” His gaze held mine, begging me to understand, to confirm his deepest fear. “I–” No!

I cut him off, my own voice thick with an emotion I could no longer contain. “You keep talkin’ and I’se gonna break your jaw,” I interrupted. “You’se actin’ like I should thank you! Were you not listening to me? I have every right to be angry! You betrayed me, you picked your stupid dream over me. You-“

Now it was Jack’s turn to cut me off. He surged forward, dropping to his knees in front of me, his hands gripping the sides of my chair, caging me in with his intensity. His voice dropped, not in anger, but in a fervent, pleading promise.

“My dream isn’t complete witout you!” The words weren't shouted, it’s like they were escaping, desperate and earnest. “Don’t you get it? There ain’t no Santa Fe if you’re not there, sweetheart. The sun wouldn’t be warm, the air wouldn’t be clean. It’d just be another empty place. It’s only my dream because you’re in it.” His eyes searched mine, begging me to see the truth he had almost lost.

The raw confession hung in the air. A peace offering I have no intention of accepting. His words, “It’s only a dream because you’re in it,” should have calmed me down. Instead, they felt like another manipulation. Another one of his lies.

“You don’t get to say dat,” I snarled, my voice low and venomous. The pain in my body rised as as I shoved Jack to the ground. “You’se don’t get to use me as the excuse for your cowardice.”

Jack recoiled, but this time, instead of crumbling, something in him hardened. “Cowardice?” he shot back, his own voice gaining an edge. “You think this was about bein’ scared? You think I was scared of him?” He stood again, staring down at me. Don’t be afraid.

“What else would you call it?” I spat.

“I’d call it bein’ realistic!” he fired back, taking a step closer, his eyes flashing. “You talk about fightin’? I’ve been fightin’ my whole life, Josie! I’m tired of just fightin’ for the next meal, the next penny! I saw a way out for us and I took it. Yeah, I listened to him! Because he was the only one offerin’ anythin’ other than more struggle, more pain!”

“So you just gave up! You quit on everyone who believed in you!” I thought back to Racetrack and Blink, to Davey and Les, to Spot, my brother.

“Believed in me?” A bitter, hollow laugh escaped him. “For what? To lead ‘em to what? Another lost strike? Another winter in a leaky lodging house? You think this is a game? This is life! And it’s ugly, and it’s hard, and sometimes you have to get dirty to get clean!” He was pacing again, faster this time. “You think I liked it? You think I enjoyed knowin’ I was sellin’ a part of my soul? I did it for a chance, Josie! A real chance for us!”

“A chance you didn’t even ask me if I wanted!” My shout silenced him. “You decided for me. You decided I was better off witout you. You decided what was best for my life. That ain’t love, Jack. That’s arrogance.”

That hit its mark. He flinched, but the fight wasn’t gone. “Arrogance? Or was it seein’ what you refuse to see?” He gestured wildly at the room, at the world beyond. “Look around! We’se nobodies! The world steps on people like us every day! Pulitzer was just the first to say it to my face! He offered a way to be somebody who could protect you, not just some kid swingin’ a punch at a giant!”

“And look how that turned out!” I screamed, gesturing to my broken body. “Your ‘protection’ left me chained in a cellar! You handed me over to dem the minute you walked away!”

The words hung between us, brutal and true. The anger drained from his face, replaced by a gut-wrenching agony. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. I wasn't done. The dam had broken, a flood of truth poured out. Keep fighting, tooth and nail.

“You want to talk about bein’ realistic? This is realistic!” I hissed, grabbing a handful of my blood-crusted shirt and holding it out toward him. “This pain. This fear. This is the world you made for me with your ‘realistic’ deal. You sold your soul, Jack, and you let debt collect on the debt from my flesh!”

I stood and took a painful, limping step closer, forcing him to look at the purple swell of my eyes, the cuts covering my face. “You think Pulitzer’s the only one who steps on us? You became one of ‘em! You gave the Delanceys permission! They knew you wouldn’t come for me! They knew you were tucked away in your new life, feelin’ like a ‘somebody’ while they took a whip to your nobody!”

“Josie, stop-” he begged, his voice cracking. No.

“Why? Does the truth hurt worse than a whip?” I was crying now, hot, angry tears that felt like acid on my cheeks. “You didn’t just walk away. You gave them the key. You signed my sentence with that stupid deal. Every blow was from them, but every reason for it was from you!”

I saw him physically recoil, but I pressed on, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper. “You talk about Santa Fe like it’s some paradise. But you know what I saw in that cellar? I saw the only thing that matters. I saw who shows up. And you weren't there, Jack. You were in a fancy office, making deals with the devil. My friends, my brother, they fought for me. They searched for me. Where were you?”

His face was ashen, his hands trembling at his sides. I had stripped him bare, and we were both staring at the ugly, naked truth.

“You don’t get to be sorry,” I finished, my voice finally breaking under the weight of it all. “Sorry is for accidents. This was a choice. You looked at me, and you looked at his money, and you made a choice. And you didn’t choose me.”

The silence that fell was absolute. We stood there in the aftermath, breathing raggedly. The fight was gone from both of us, leaving only the devastating fallout. Jo… sweetheart, Jack’s voice called from inside my head.

Then, driven by a pain greater than my anger, a need for something in the shitshow he had made of our world, I took a shaky step forward. He started to tell me to stop, his voice a shattered whisper of my name, but I didn’t listen. I walked until I was right in front of him, and I did something that I should’ve regretted. I wrapped my arms around his waist, buried my face in his shirt, and cried. I cried for what I lost, for the boy I thought he was.

He froze, then his arms came up, incredibly careful, winding around my neck as he clung to me. He brought his face down to the crook of my neck, and his body was wracked with silent, shuddering sobs. I could feel his hot tears on my skin.

"I thought you were dead," he choked out, the words a raw confession.

The admission changed nothing. That fixes nothing.

"I thought I was dead too," I whispered, my voice hollow. The air seemed to change as an understanding passed between us. Things weren’t perfect. But maybe they could be.

Chapter Text

Tuesday- August 1, 1899

"What are ya doin' up here?" Fight or flight, Jo.

"I lived here too once," I said scoffing, not turning to look at him. I kept my eyes on the city waking up below, the charcoal drawings of the Refuge’s upper floors feeling heavy in my hand. "You're gettin' better," I added, a reluctant concession to the truth.

Jack quickly crossed the roof and ripped the drawings out of my hands. "Who said you could be up here?" he grumbled, his voice thick with a sleep he probably hadn't gotten.

"I did."

"Well did I say ya could go through my stuff?"

"I saw them rolled up sticking out of there, I didn't know what they were," I shot back, finally turning to face him. The morning light caught the bags under his eyes, a mirror of my own. "These are drawings of the Refuge, ain't they? Upstairs I mean?"

"Yeah," he gruffly replied, refusing to meet my eyes, instead focusing on rerolling the parchment. As if it could contain all of our messy feelings. "You should be resting. It’s barely even mornin’." He finally turned to me with a look in his eyes- part worry, part frustration, all guilt.

"Yeah okay," I muttered, the old defiance flaring. I turned around and slowly, painfully, limped to the far edge of the rooftop, putting as much distance between us as the small space would allow.

"I'se serious Jo." His voice was harder now, a command.

"So am I." I looked back at him with fire in my eyes, daring him to push me. Let me have something to yell at you for.

He stomped over to me, his boots scuffing against the roof, and grabbed my forearm, his grip firm but carefully avoiding my bandaged wrist. "Let's go."

"No."

"Yes."

"You'se not in charge of me." I tried to yank my arm back, but he held fast. How mature of you.

"Ahg!" he exclaimed, releasing me and turning away to pull at his own hair in frustration. "You'se so aggravating sometimes, ya know that? If ya weren't a girl, you'd be tryin' ta talk wit a fist in your mouth!"

"'An if I was a boy, you'd be lookin' at me through one swollen eye!" I retorted, the words coming on instinct. I held up my right hand, curling it into a fist, ready to make good on the threat.

Instead of flinching, Jack moved faster than I expected. He grabbed my fist, not to block it, but to gently put it under his own chin, holding it there. His eyes were wide, pleading, and furious all at once. "Well dat neva stopped you before!" Do it.

The air crackled between us. Do it. All the anger, the betrayal, the unspoken thing that had always been there, condensed into that single moment. Do it. Without thinking, driven by a storm of emotion I couldn't name, I grabbed the bandana around his neck and pulled his face down to mine, kissing him.

The way his lips felt against mine shocked me- soft, yet firm, and tasting of sleep and cigarettes. Jack’s arms hung limp at his side for a second, stunned into complete stillness. But before he could even think about moving, I pulled away, my own heart hammering against my ribs.

"What?" His voice cracked and raised an octave, his hand coming up to touch his lips as if to confirm what had just happened. Oh, hell.

My own bravado vanished, replaced by a vulnerable, desperate need for the truth. "I need to know ya didn't crack for da money," I stuttered, the words tumbling out. "I need to know it was for somethin'... else. Even if it was stupid."

The fight finally left his shoulders. "I… I told you an' Davey da truth. Look, you win a fight when you got da other fella down, eatin' pavement. It don't matter how long we strike, Pulitzer ain't neva givin' up. I don't know what else we can do." It was a surrender, an admission of defeat.

But it was an admission I could work with. A slow grin spread across my face, and I took a careful step forward, closing the distance he’d created. "No, but I do." Be Queenie again, Josie. Play your hand.

"Come on..." Jack tried to speak, turning away with a weary sigh, the ghost of our old dynamic returning. I cut him off, my grin turning sharp.

"Really, Jack? Really? Only you can have a good idea? Or is it 'cause I'm a girl?" I challenged, poking the bear.

"I didn't say nothin' abou-" he tried protesting again, whipping back around, his defensiveness rising.

"This would be a good time ta shut up." I put my finger over his lips, silencing him. The touch burned. "Bein' boss don't mean you got all da answers, just the brain to recognize da right one when you hear it." He stared at me, my finger still on his lips, and I saw the stubborn resistance in his eyes finally give way to a flicker of curiosity. He finally gave in with a slow, reluctant nod.

"I'se listenin'."

"Good for you," I said, pulling my hand back. "Anyways, da strike was your idea, the rally was Davey's, and now my plan will take us to the finish line. Deal wit it." I took a folded paper out from my back pocket, holding it out like a peace treaty. Jack took it hesitantly and read the title aloud, his voice a low rumble.

"The Children's Crusade."

"Yeah, Sarah found me and gave me it. She said Denton wrote some of it before he left. I decided ta finish it off." You did it! I stepped closer, pointing to a line. "See? 'For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in New York, I beg you: join us.’”

A slow realization dawned on his face, and a little grin tugged at his mouth. "That was you."

"Yeah," I admitted, a hint of pride breaking through. "Denton liked what I said in the courtroom. That wit’ the things I said, da strike stopped being just about da newsies. I, in his words not mine, challenged our whole generation to stand up and demand a place at the table. I just quoted myself sayin’ what I said a couple days ago." I ended my explanation with a shrug, trying to play it cool. Head back to the bench slugger.

"The Children's Crusade..." He repeated, the words gaining weight as he turned them over in his mind.

"Think, Jack," I urged, my excitement growing. "If we publish this, my words, with one of your drawings," I hobbled over to the pole where his other drawings were stored, "and if every worker under twenty-one read it and stayed home from work- or better yet, they came to Newsies Square for a rally! A general, city-wide strike. Even Pulitzer couldn't ignore dat."

The practical problem surfaced immediately in his mind. "We got one small problem- got no way ta print it." Damn, also too smart for his own good.

"Oh, come on! There has to be one printin' press he don't control!"

A slow, wicked grin spread across Jack’s face as the idea clicked. "Oh no," he started laughing, a real, genuine sound that felt like a breath of fresh air.

"What?" I questioned, my own smile climbing to match his own. Be careful.

"I know where there's a printin' press no one would eva think we'd use."

"Then why are we still standing here!" I exclaimed, turning to run as fast as my injured body would allow across the roof to the fire escape. Jack was faster, his hand carefully grabbing mine.  

"Hey, hey, wait, stop!" He pulled me back up, his expression suddenly serious. "What's this about for you? I don’t mean the children's crusade," he said, his gaze intense, searching my face. "What's this about?" He gestured between us. "Am I… am I kidding myself, or I mean, is there really somethin’..."

"Jack, you’se my best friend." I started, and tried to make my way down again, my heart suddenly in my throat. The easy answer.

"You an’ I both know we ain’t just friends." His voice was low, certain. He offered his hand again, not to help me down, but to pull me back up onto the roof fully. "Come back up here." I let him pull me up, my feet firmly on the roof again. He didn't let go of my hand.

"Look," he began, his thumb unconsciously stroking the back of my bandaged wrist. "What I did... takin' that deal... it was the stupidest thing I've ever done. I broke your trust. I broke... us. And there ain't no excuse good enough for that." He finally met my eyes, his own shining with unshed tears. "You were never just a friend. You were my partner. My best friend. The one who called me on my stupidity. And I... I threw that away. I'm so sorry, Jo. Not because the plan failed, but because I failed you." The raw honesty in his voice disarmed me completely. The last of my anger evaporated, leaving behind the real hurt, the sense of loss not just for what could have been, but for what we were.

"I missed you," I whispered, the words simple and true. "Even if it was just a couple days. I missed my friend. I was so scared, Jack. I thought all those bad things I’se heard you say in my head were true. And the worst part was thinkin' I'd lost you forever."

"You didn't," he said fiercely, squeezing my hand. "You could never lose me. I'm right here. I'm a piece of shit, but I'm here. And I'm listenin'. Not just to your plan. To you. Always."

It was an apology. It was a promise. It was the mending of a fracture I thought might never heal. A slow, genuine smile spread across my face, the first one that felt real in days. "I know," I said. "I forgive you, you ass."

The relief that washed over his features was palpable. He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a week, and a matching grin broke out on his face. The tension between us shifted, the air clearing of the storm that had raged for so long. We were just Jack and Josie again on a rooftop, the world at our feet.

He took a step away, creating just enough space to look me right in my eyes, his grip on my hand still our only connection. "Look, when you were gone I was a mess. I didn't know what to do. I felt as if my heart was missing. An' tonight lookin' at you… I'se scared. I'se scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everythin'." Don’t let it.

“What do you want then?” I asked him, my voice barely a whisper.

“I want-” He stopped, tore his free hand through his hair, struggling for the words. “Nevermind what I want,” Jack’s voice was quieter now, laced with a fear I’d never heard in him before. It wasn’t a fear of Pulitzer or the Delanceys. It was a fear of me. Of this. “What do you want?”

Josie, say it. Let yourself be happy.

I sucked in a deep breath, the repaired friendship giving me the courage to be brave. “You. Always you.” I took a step forward, closing the distance he’d created. “But you’se never looked at me dat way and you’se never gonna. I’se just Spot’s little sister, there is no way-”

I was cut off by his lips covering my own. My lips parted in surprise, allowing his tongue to slip into my mouth. That brought me back to who exactly was kissing me. Electricity shot through me as I laced my hands into Jack’s hair, pulling him closer. I felt him grin against my mouth as his hands roamed my body, moving slowly, reverently, but never stopping. He reluctantly pulled back as we both gasped for air.

Inches away he whispered, his forehead resting against mine, "I think I love you, sweetheart." I searched his face, committing this moment to memory- the awe in his eyes, the faint smile on his kiss-swollen lips. I pushed his hair, which I had messed up, out of his face then trailed my hands down to his chin.

"I think I love you too, lover-boy." And I pulled his lips to mine again, sealing the promise.

"Jack!" Race called out from the boarding house below, his voice shattering the perfect bubble we’d created. Oh, damn you. We quickly pulled away, though only slightly, as Race continued, "Do ya know where Josie is?"

"Yeah," Jack breathlessly responded, his eyes never leaving mine, his hands still resting on my waist. "She's up here wit me."

"Spot wants to talk to ya Josie!"

"I'll be down in a minute, Racetrack!" I called down to him, my voice surprisingly steady.

Jack grinned at me in the way he does that makes my heart flutter, a grin that was all for me. I grinned back and laid my forehead against his, both of us ignoring the world below. All of a sudden Jack started to laugh, a pure, joyful sound of disbelief. I couldn't help it, so I joined him, our laughter mingling in the morning air.

We talked and laughed up on that roof until we were inevitably forced to leave the dream we had escaped to, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next. Together.