Disclaimer: Why the H-and double toothpicks do you think we'd be writing
underprivileged fanfics if we owned this awesome flipping movie?!?! I mean,
seriously. How gullible can you guys get?????

.A/N: Okay. So I just got into Newsies and my bestest friend Passionate
Fire and I decided to write a Blush slash fic. Cuz we're awesome like
that...It was mainly her who wrote the dialogue (cuz I'm really new to
Newsies and still haven't figured it all out yet…but I'm getting there) but I came up with Flitch! Yay me...

Oh. Passionate says Hi.

And…it…starts!!!!


August 6th, 1899

He's a beautiful young lad…much more pretty than what I've seen…He has the most beautiful Doe-Brown eyes that seem to pull you in…He's carved like a Grecian statue; every inch of him perfect. Hard to believe that young street rats can have the beauty and gracefulness of a white swan. He's more prettier than my blonde…companion. I think that my "partner" is wearing out after only a few days and I am in need of a new one. This beautiful, exquisite boy should fit to my needs completely...


(Mush)

Do ya ever get the feelin' that someone…something…is watchin' ya? Like, if you're just sellin' pape, mindin' your own business, and suddenly…ya feel a chill go down your spine?

If you haven't, be glad. It's the creepiest thing in the world.

I glanced around Central Park, trying to spot the someone that I knew was watchin' me. It couldn't be a Newsie…almost everyone had already left to go to dinner. And anyway, Central Park wasn't exactly crowded right now. A few bums were lying on benches, but that was it.

So what was watchin' me? A squirrel?

Nah.

I looked around again, more carefully then ever this time. Still, no one was---

Wait.

There!

That guy!

He was starin' at me from behind a tree, with a funny expression on his face. It almost looked like the kind of expression Jack gets when he's talkin' about a girl. Only this guy…I don't know. He looked much creepier than ol' Cowboy going on and on about Sarah.

I stared back at the guy, my chin lifting up in defiance. The man blinked at me for second, then smiled, not removing his gaze for one second. I felt unnerved.

Then, he mouthed somethin' to me.

I don't know what anyone else would have thought…but to me…

It looked an awful lot like he whispered "Soon."

"MUSH!!" came a voice from behind. Kid Blink was there, his usual smile gone and instead a worried frown was on his handsome face.

Not that I care.

"Heya, Blink," I said, forgettin' the weird man. "Whaddya know, whaddya say?"

His face looked even graver as he spoke. "Conlon's gone missin'" Blink said. "Brooklyn's callin' a meetin', and Jack wants me an' you there for backup. Wese gotta go. Now."

I tried to organize my scrambled thoughts. "Spot's missin'?" I asked, throwing down my unused papes on the sidewalk. A meetin' was much more important, and no person was around no more.

"Yeah," Blink replied. "I guess last week he bought his papes and then just disappeared. Nobodies seen him since."

"Youse sure he didn't just run away?" I tried to keep up with Blink's fast pace. His feet are much bigger than mine.

"Considerin' they found his hat with blood on it…" Blink told solemnly. "I'd say dat was a yes."

Oh.

Damn.

"So…I guess we better go then." I said, taking a glance back at the tree. The man was gone.


(Blink)

When we got to the bunkroom, all the other leaders were there. There was the leader of Queens, Fat Max, the leader of Harlem, Snap Trot, and their seconds and thirds in line for their title. The only one that was missin' was Spot Conlon. That was why we was all there, I guess.

""Ey, Blink!" Jack called, motionin' me and Mush ta sit on a lower bunk. Jack then turned to the boy sittin' next to him, Flitch, the "second-in-command" of Brooklyn, "Everyone's here."

Flitch, a tough newsboy that had immigrated from Britain, began to speak.

"So I was thinking'…" he said, his accent barely notible. "Wese should all sell in groups; no mattah what. Someone's out ta get us, and no one is safe."

Personally, I thought Flitch was just bein' paranoid. He was too jumpy for his own good. That was why he was second-in-command' in Brooklyn.

Then again, Spot's gone. So I guess he's not second in command anymore.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, his token bandanna crooked. "Let's do dat. Tell all your boys to sell in two or more, okay?"

The other leaders nodded, agreeing without question. Jack was one of the more powerful borough leaders. He and Spot ruled the Big Apple.

"Okay," He said. "Dis meetin' is adjourned."

But was it really enough?

The leaders began to file out, leaving me, Jack, and Mush alone in the room. The other Manhattan boys--Dutchy, Skiitery, Boots and all the others-- ran in, sensing' that something' was wrong. They hadn't heard about Spot.

"What's wrong, Cowboy?" Snitch asked. "Why's Flitch heah and not Spot?"

Jack looked sad. "Cause," He said. "He's missin'."

Is it just me, or did Racetrack's face freeze a little bit more than anyone else's?


-The Next Day-

(Mush)

"What's the deal wit' you kids today?" The old guy who had been paid to replace Weasel asked. "Youse sure seem down."

It was true. Every one of us, even the little kids, were scared and worried. Hardly anyone was joking around. An eerie calm had filled us all. Jack had assured us yesterday that Spot was probably fine and was hidin' out somewhere, but none of us was that stupid. He was gone.

"Dunno, Mr. Harshback," I said, picking up my thirty papes that I had bought. "See ya."

Blink was right behind me, and within minutes had caught up with me.

"Mush," he said, "I don't wanna be partners."

I felt my tongue stickin' in my mouth all dry-like. We'd planned this out yesterday. We was gonna work together and stick ta each other like glue.

"W-why?" I asked, wondering why I was so uptight about it.

'Cause," Blink said calmly. "The headlines are good; and we don't need a gag or nothin' to sell 'em. We can do fine on our own."

"But Jack said…"

"Aw, you're nothin' but a little Mama's Boy," He jeered.

I was insulted. My mama had died years ago from pneumonia when I was real little. I was there, too. Then my Papa had gotten ill too, and pretty soon I was all alone.

"I am not!" I retorted.

Blink scoffed. "Are too--oh no, wait."

I could feel somethin' bad was gonna happen. I was right, too.

"Your Mama's dead," He finished.

By this time my blood was boilin', and my feelings for Blink, brotherly or otherwise, were gone in a flash like dat.

It wasn't like his Ma wasn't dead neither.

"Shut up about my Mama, Blink!" I yelled, earning strange looks from passerby. "Mama's boy, mama's boy!" taunted Blink. Where was the nice, carin' guy I knew?

"I AM NOT!" I yelled, close to tears now. I threw down my papes and began to attack him, one punch after another.

Blink was a better fighter, though, and soon had me pinned down under his weight. "Lemme go!" I squeaked.

He shook his head. "I was just kiddin', Mush, no need to--"

I had heard enough. With as much strength as I could muster up, I pushed the boy off of me and ran away. I was goin' to Central Park again. Blink would never find me there.

I was half hoping he'd follow me, maybe to finish the apology he'd started or something'. But he didn't. Kid Blink just stared after me, lookin' kind of sad.

I rushed to the park, my legs tired and sore from all that runnin'. I could barely feel my achy legs as I curled up on my usual bench and tried to hold back the tears that were darin' to slip out of my eyes and onto my cheeks.


(Blink)

"Hi, Blink!" A small, hyper, Les said, running up to me and hugging me
around the middle. It nearly scared me to death

"Woah--oh, hi, Les." I patted his head.

"Is there somethin' wrong?" He asked me, readin' my face. Sometimes I wear
my heart on my sleeve. It's one of my weaknesses

"Nah," I replied. I waved to his older brother. "Hey, Dave. "

"Hey." replied the other, looking at me curiously. "Are you sellin' with
Mush today?"

I felt my cheeks start to flame, and stuttered out a lie. "I-uh-well, he's
going to sell with someone else."

"Oh," said David.

He offered to sell with me, and I agreed. I really didn't want to sell
alone, like I'd told Mush

I was just scared.

Like Mush.

I wondered if he was really serious when he was talkin' about that guy in
the Park.

He was probably just jumpy, or somethin'.

But I get the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was tellin' me the truth…


(Mush)

I curled my arms over my legs like a small child afraid of gettin' hit.

Things couldn't get any worse.

I guess if I hadn't been wallowing in my own self-pity

I would have noticed the hard, blunt object swinging across my path.

But I didn't.

Before I could do anything to protect myself

a sharp pain greeted me in the head

and then I was greeted by darkness

And the sensation of

F

A

L

L

I

N

G

I knew no more.


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