Author's Note: This is my first real songfic- I figured I'd give it a try. It was inspired by Screamer, which is a song by Good Charlotte. The story is a little disturbing, which is why the rating is so high. Note the cool 1899 lingo for a gay person. Read on, and please review!


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My boys don't understand. My words don't inspire them like they used to- now they listen to David, hanging onto his every word. They used to look at me with such interest in their eyes. They used to care when I was passionate about something.

Communication isn't hard when the wind can't speak

David is my best friend. I trust him implicitly.

Yelling mercy to the poor, and forgiveness to the weak forever

Yet why do they no longer listen? Why do they turn away when I try to begin a conversation?

I can't speak

I do this for you! I do it all for you! Why then, why don't you appreciate how hard I work to make sure even the scragglers have a bed to sleep in? I've paid for Snipeshooter's lodging for the past three days. Would Spot Conlon do that for his boys?

A penny saved is a penny earned


But Snipeshooter won't even look me in the eye. Instead, he watches David, smiling whenever he hears the curly-haired boy's voice.

When the life that you spent was the leaf that overturned


I am your leader! I alone guide you through your miserable, dreary lives! Me and only me!

Don't forget to buckle when you fall


David is watching me. It is so quiet tonight- my papers sold quickly today, though the headlines weren't great. I always have to force myself to smile at my customers. Lately I have felt so dried up.

Beneath the pressure of the seconds

I wish he would stop looking at me like that. His lips curve downwards when he stares. It is not entirely unattractive and a little intimidating.

When your life became a screamer


What the hell am I saying? I'm Jack Kelly, do you understand? I'm not afraid of anything...or anyone.

Staring at the sea things become so small


But I was there, just outside the door. They were inside, and thought that I had left. I could hear everything.

Photopages turn the pictures on my wall


They were fucking each other. I mean, I've been with plenty of girls, Dave's sister included, but this was wrong.

Pictures on my wall

Denton is twice our age, after all. And...and he's a man.


Why is life such an issue in your mind


But the Mouth sure sounded like he liked it. In fact, it sounded like David was encouraging the journalist.

Why are the answers to my problems hard to find

I'll never see David the same way. Whenever our eyes meet, all I can think is "boy-fucker." David had sex with a thirty-five year old man.

So hard to find


And he liked it.

I'm dreaming

He sees me as a threat. Our glances pass through each other whenever we meet. We size up each other, our words friendly but the underlying tone quite vicious.

I'm a dreamer


See, if the boys knew that David was a lick-box, he'd have it coming to him. Nobody here likes gays. And David, well...

While you're screaming

David's as gay as pink ink.

At a screamer


And he wants to take my place. I know that now. He's been watching me for months, watching my mannerisms, taking them in. Sometimes he even uses them, little hand motions similar to mine. They make the boys feel so comfortable.

Take out the light


I don't know what to do. I don't have anyone left to turn to.

Take out the light , start screaming


David has made sure to isolate me. I have trusted him with so much, and allowed him to push all of my other friendships away.

Take out the light

He has asked me to speak with him. We're on the roof of the Lodging House, sitting in silence and looking at the stars peeping through the smoggy sky.

Take out the light and start screaming


"You want my place," I blurt out, not thinking straight. Everything that I have put faith in has disintegrated before my eyes.

I'm dreaming


"You know that I don't," David replies smoothly, giving me such an earnest look that I believe him. My resolve begins to crumble. Maybe I'm wrong, after all. Maybe he really is still my best friend.

I'm dreaming, I'm a dreamer


I am caught unawares as he lunges at me. I throw my arms up over my head to block the blow, snatching at one of his wrists. There is cold metal pressed into my flesh, the flat side of a blade. David has a knife. Oh shit, David has a fucking knife.

While you're screaming

"You're a boy-fucker," I snarl, keeping my voice down. I don't want the boys up here, to see us fighting. They trust David almost as much as they trust me. It would cause a lot of problems for the others to know about this.

You're screaming at a screamer

David ignores me momentarily, trying to break free of my grasp. His knee shoots up and he catches me in the groin. I double over, lost in pain. He yanks me back up, trying to ram the knife into the base of my throat. He's inexperienced with blades- he's trying to shove it in point first.

Take out the light


Fuck, this hurts like hell. "I heard you and Denton!" He stares at me in slight surprise, pausing for a moment. I have confirmed his suspicion. A slight blush tinges the corners of his cheeks as he looks away. It's all I need. I lunge in, twisting the knife out of his grasp.

Take out the light, start screaming


I lose control. David is a threat to me. David is a threat to my boys. David is a threat to the newsies of Manhattan.


So hard to find

I scarcely know what I'm doing. I slash and tear with the blade glinting in my grip, ignoring the moans and shrieked pleas coming from this foreign body. This is not David Jacobs. David would never fuck another man.

I'm dreaming


That's right, Cowboy. Just keep telling yourself that.

I'm a dreamer


The body still twitching at my feet doesn't even look like David. It's a red, mangled, bloody boy whimpering with pain.

While you're screaming


I sneer in derision at the cowering boy. David would never flinch away from me like that.

At a screamer


This boy won't make it through the night. I grab him roughly by one of the arms, ignoring the scream that my grip ignites. I throw him into the corner, pretending I don't see the bloody trail leading to where he is.

So hard to find


I leave silently, going down the stairs and slamming the door shut behind me. I don't speak to any of the boys as I throw myself into the bathroom, turning on the water. My hand leaves a red mark.

So hard to find

I try to wash away the blood. Most of it comes off, except for where my shirt has been stained. I yank the shirt off over my head and run water over it.

Take out the light


"Jack?" Blink opens the door timidly, staring inside with his one good eye. I don't even look up.

Take out the light, start screaming

"Jack, where did David go?" He asks softly. I've never heard him sound so cowed.

Take out the light

"He's gone back to school," I reply, sounding extremely distracted. I turn the water off, rolling my shirt into a ball and tucking it under an arm.

Take out the light, start screaming


"Oh," Kid Blink nods, watching me warily. I grin at him and hook my unoccupied arm loosely around his shoulders.

Take out the light

"Don't worry, Kid. I'm sure he'll visit."

Take out the light, start screaming


Blink looks reassured. He's never been too bright, poor kid.

Take out the light

Shit, it's late. The younger boys are asleep by now. I smile sadly at the other newsies, and they sigh. They liked David, they tell me. He was a good friend.

Take out the light, start screaming

I know, I tell them. A very good friend.

Take out the light, start screaming

I try to shut my eyes, but the bloody body awaits behind my eyelids, warding away sleep.


Take out the light, start screaming


I can't sleep, I can't dream.


The next day, and the day after that, go so smoothly. Everything is wonderful, though everyone misses the Mouth. Les Jacobs hasn't returned to the newsies since David left.


But sometimes I catch the boys staring at me. They fear me.


But with fear comes respect.


This is how Spot Conlon must feel.


...I like it.