Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. Well, I secretly do but that's a little secret. Rose White and Rose Red is copyright to…whoever wrote it original (Brothers Grimm?) The idea is majorly inspired by Francesca Lia Block's story 'Rose' from 'The Rose and the Beast'
A/N: I will not defend myself for writing two, Rose White and Rose Red Jack and David stories. This one is different anyway. C: Thanks Layne for being a major awesome beta. And another huge thanks to the fantabulous author Francesca Lia Block for inspiring me extremely for this with her own spin on the tale.
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Once upon a time, there were two boys named David and Jack but called Rose White and Rose Red. The names really couldn't have anything to do with their appearance: David had dark hair and Jack was a dirty blonde. But David thought a lot about what he said and Jack was rash. David liked to talk but often told Jack things to tell others.
They would tell each other 'We will never need anyone else ever. We are going to do everything together. It doesn't matter if we never find anyone else. We are complete.'
Jack had dated David's sister but that had ended quickly since all they did was spend time with each other.
David is smaller and thinner and his hair is a tumbleweed—as Jack called it—of dark curls. Jack is faster and stronger and his hair is tousled, dark blond. Jack is always coming up with ideas and David tells him how those ideas could go wrong. But he still follows him everywhere.
Jack's stories of the world out west enrapture David. So they'd go on adventures in the city. Running through alleys. Jack held David's hand and the two of them ran together.
When David hears the stories, he can picture himself on a wagon or on a farm or in an old saloon with gun-toting heroes. But only if he was with Jack.
Jack gives David courage and David gives Jack peace. Jack can get worked up about so much, his face turning bright red and his brown eyes flashing like warning signs. David listens patiently and tells Jack he is right. The world is sick and strange and mad. And it's not Jack who is mad. It is the world. Jack has his own world.
Today they're walking through the crumbling remains on the outskirts of the city. This is the farthest they have ever been. David holds Jack's hand and they walk together. They run through ruins, throw small rocks at each other and bask in the bright sun so that they feel like they'll peel right out of their skin and become new. They lose track of time. Jack does because he wants time to be lost and David does because he trusts Jack and so forgets to worry. But then it is suddenly night. The crumbling walls that gave them such joy in the daytime grow big and menacing and the wind is lost ghosts and the seagulls are mournful vultures; phantoms.
David is afraid and Jack is becoming afraid, not of the night but because he is not sure he can console David. David is brave but Jack fears more for losing his trust.
"We'll be all right," he says. "We have each other."
But he knows that, as the night goes on, David is not content with this—he wants to be rescued. Someone from the outside who has a light in their eyes and the moon on their chest. Things that Jack does not have. David falls and scratches himself up. Jack holds him close but it doesn't help much.
"How could this have happened? What were we thinking? We've got to get help. This is how people die," he says in a tearful voice.
Then Jack see the light shining over the crumbling buildings, the old ruins he liked to pretend were castles. To Jack the light is like David, it is made for David. His relief is not for himself but for David. If not for him, he'd spend days and days in the disintegrating ruins, reigning king in his own land of fantasy. Growing wilder and stronger like the rocks. But David is more important to him than all the freedom and power he desires. He has to raise his voice so that David will stop complaining and hear him.
"There! See the light! It's there for you!"
They go toward it and see the little cottage. It's a strange sight in the city but neither boy is afraid. It's rounded and stout and fat with a thatched roof and a smoking chimney and ivy on the walls. They rush up the stone path and Jack plows in the little green door, not bothering with the knocker.
The room is warmed by firelight, a wooden floor and large cushions. A small table with a blue-and-white-checked cloth and a milk pitcher full of daisies and honeysuckles.
"Damn!" Jack proclaims. "Amazing!"
That is when they see the Bear. David steps back but Jack goes to him. The Bear blinks up at them with his flickering fire-lit brown eyes. The tip of his snout quivers. His breathing is labored. He shifts his weight and his front paws sway in the air. His claws are long and sharp. David holds his breath.
"He's hurt," Jack says.
There's a large wound in the Bear's side. His blood is pooling onto the rug.
"It's alright." He takes his paw into his hand. "We won't hurt you. Let me see you."
He kneels down and they look at each other. How did a Bear get to the city? He smells of forests, smoke, berries. After a long time, Jack puts out his other hand. The Bear sniffs it, licks it with his long, rough, pink tongue.
"Yeah. It's all right," Jack says.
Jack fills a basin with water from the sink. He gives it to the Bear to drink. David gets some berries from the cabinet and holds out his hand. The Bear nuzzles his palm with his damp snout, tickles him as he eats. David rips a piece of cloth from his shirt. They both wash the wound and dress it. The Bear lies back awkwardly, heavily and watches them. That is when David realizes what it is he reminds him of. He can't stop thinking this. He is less surprised by this thought than by the realization that he does not want to share it with Jack.
After a while, Jack and David fall asleep. In the morning, they feed the Bear again and help themselves to bread and cheese. Neither of them mentions going home even though David's family will worry.
They bathe in the river. When they dress, Jack notices that David seems to be taking more care than usual. His hair is as dark as the Bear's but light hits it and it glows a lighter chestnut. His cheeks are pink. His shirt is untucked and torn, dangling over his brown trousers.
Jack knows what is happening, a part of him knows. He remembers what they would say to each other every morning. He touches his coarse hair, looks at his lanky arms, his big, strong calves. He looks at David admiring himself in the river—something he never did before.
The Bear is better that night. His breathing is more regular and he eats more of the food they give him. Jack builds a fire in the fireplace. He sees the way the Bear stares at David while he cleans and rebandages his wound. His eyes are full of dark firelight. Watching the Bear and David, Jack feels the way he felt when they first found him—he can't breathe, his body seems to have been frozen.
Days go by, Jack and David spend them with the Bear and in the ruins. David's skin is glowing and he seems to be bigger than before, stronger. Neither of them talk about leaving even though David's family probably thinks of him as dead by now. At night, they watch over the Bear.
One night it is especially cold. Jack awakens in the little bed that is too small for him. David is not there. Jack goes into the front room. The Bear is sleeping by the fireplace where he always sleeps. His wound is completely healed. His coat gleams. David is curled up in the curve of his haunches. Jack stops breathing. He freezes. He knows that what David told him once would now be a lie. He goes back to his bed and stares into the darkness. He utters a prayer in Irish because he knows that in the gloom, transformations are taking place.
In the morning when Jack comes in for breakfast, he sees a boy sitting with David at the little table. He is of medium height and strong. His hair is tight and curly and a deep brown, the color of the Bear. His eyes are soft, spellbinding and brown. He is the color of cookies. He is staring at David whose hair is like brandy. His lips and hands are stained with berries. The boy's full lips are the same; dyed deeply with berries. Their hands are grasped over the table, purple fingers. His shirt is half the size it once was because it was mostly bandages. His stomach is taut and pale and strong, different from the skinny boy he had arrived with.
David runs to Jack and hugs him tightly. Jack swallows a trickle of salt into his throat and smiles.
"This is what is supposed to happen," he says. "I'm so happy for ya!"
David wants to tell him 'maybe he has a friend, you have to stay with us. Things don't have to change that much' but he doesn't say anything. He knows that things have changed. When Jack sets out to go back home to David's family, he holds the Once-Bear's hand and lets him go.