Killala, County Mayo Ireland. March of 1888.

"Kelly, darlin', are ye quite sure?" Nora worried. "It was hard enough when you had Jack, and a second one…" Kelly laughed and patted her older sister's hand.

"Ye shouldn't worry, Nory dear." She giggled and ruffled her little boy's blond hair. "Jacky-boy's been wantin' a wee brablin to play with." Six-year-old Jack nodded absentmindedly. If they stayed long enough, maybe Aunt Nora would give him some of the cake that was cooling on the table. His thoughts were interrupted by a little blonde fireball whizzing past him, her skirts flying.

"Mumma, Mumma!" she shrieked. Nora bent down to the little girl's eye level.

"Mary and Joseph, Reilly, how did ye get so dirty?" she exclaimed, brushing dirt off the child's dress and hair.

"Spot was chasin' me!" Reilly pouted. Sure enough, the scruffy puppy poked his head around the door and yipped at her. Reilly, from the safety of her mother's knee, stuck her tongue out at the dog. The small dog barked, and Reilly ducked against Nora's shoulder.

"Morgan Conlan!" Nora scolded as she patted her small daughter on the head. The puppy's little master peeked around the door, the impish glint in his blue eyes matching the puppy's. "Morgan, you shouldn't tease your sister so."

"She deserved it, Mumma," Morgan said, looking innocently at his mother. "She was stole my slingshot and was practicin' down by the creek with it."

"Tattletale," Reilly yelped. The nearly-four-year-old twins glared at each other.

"That's enough," Nora said. "Mor, take Spot outside."

"But Mumma-" he protested, blue eyes wide.

"Mor," his mother warned. He gave an exaggerated sigh and tugged the puppy out. Nora threw up her hands. "The lad and the pup are together so much we might as well call them both Spot!" she exclaimed. Kelly pursed her lips.

"Spot Conlan. Hm, it sounds rather nice," she said, a smile playing with the corners of her mouth. Reilly tugged on her auntie's skirt.

"What am I to be?" she begged. Kelly tapped the little girl's snub nose.

"You're our own precious star, Reilly darlin'." Reilly grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. Kelly smiled back and stood up. "I'd better be getting home, Nora."

"All right, then. I shan't keep you." Jack tried not to look too disappointed at losing the possibility of cake. "Oh, Tierney says the photograph we had taken should be comin' from Galway soon." Kelly nodded.

"Aye, then. Dia duit, Nora." Jack trailed behind his mother as they made their way down to the ridge their little cottage was perched on.

"Carry me, Mumma," he begged, stretching out his small arms. Kelly laughed.

"Sure, and aren't ye old enough to be walkin' on your own, Francis Sullivan?"

Jack made a face. "Mumma, Francis is a girl name. I'm Jack," he insisted. "Like Da."

Kelly laughed again and picked him up. He sighed, deeply content, and nestled his head on her warm shoulder. "I love you, Mumma," he whispered. He felt her squeeze him gently.

"I love you too, Jacky boy." She kissed his soft cheek. "I love you so much."

Killala, County Mayo Ireland. July of 1888.

He didn't fully understand what was going on. All he knew was that Mumma was sick, and Da and Aunt Nora were with her, and he was stuck playing with his twin cousins.

"It's too hot to do anything," Morgan said drowsily, flopped on his back in the long grass. Spot the puppy was dozing beside him, his muzzle resting on little Mor's tummy.

"I think we should go see if the fairy ring is back by Old Fahey's tombstone," Reilly suggested.

"No one cares," Jack shot back. "You're just a stupid girsha whose eyes don't match." Reilly stepped back and cried out as if he had pushed her into the wall.

He'd never been this mean to her before. He felt bad, but he wasn't about to tell her he was sorry. Jack knew full well Reilly couldn't stand cracks about her eyes, since she was born with a condition that made her left eye hazel like Jack's and the right one blue like Morgan's. But right now her eyes were growing larger and angrier by the minute.

"Take that back, Francis Sullivan!" she demanded. He could tell she was about to cry, but he wouldn't give in.

"It's true, ye dumb brablin," he retorted. "Little glunter with freaky-odd eyes!"

Morgan jumped up. "Don't make fun of me sister!" he glared. Jack pushed him so he fell hard on his back. Tears started from the little boy's eyes.

"What's the matter? Did that hurt?" Jack jeered. He knew he was being too mean. After all, the twins were only four. He heard his mumma cry out from inside the cottage. All he wanted to do was run inside and curl up in her arms and be sure she was all right. Anxiously he looked to the door, but it was his da who came out. Jack ran to him.

"Jack," Da began. Jack stared up in fear. His da couldn't look at him. "Your mumma's dead, son. She and the babe." Jack jerked away.

"No!" he screamed. "My mumma's not dead! It's lyin' ye are!" He bolted and ran inside. His pretty mumma was asleep on the bed. Sobbing, he flung himself into her arms and buried his face in her soft blonde curls. "Mumma, they told me ye died," he sobbed. She didn't wake up. He stared at her still face. She wasn't smiling. But his mumma always smiled. "Mumma?" Jack whispered. He drew back. "Mumma!" Big strong arms wrapped around him. Tears ran down his da's face and mingled with the tears of the little boy.

"She's gone, Jack," Da whispered brokenly.

Jack put out a little hand and touched his mother's face. "Mumma," he wailed. "Mumma, please come back. Mumma!" She didn't answer, and his da's arms tightened around him.

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Author's Note: This was written a VERY LONG TIME AGO. As in when I was a freshman. Ah, freshman year. So long ago…

Anyway, this story won a prize for Best Jack Kelly Fanfiction on Storm's Newsies page.

I'll post up the next chapter soon.

CTB!