It all happened so fast.
Then again, as I watched, time seemed to slow… drawing out my anxiety at not being able to reach him. He hadn't seen it coming. He hadn't even had a chance to look up. As he fell back, I knew immediately what had happened.
They grabbed at him, all those policemen for one small boy. Even as he passed, dazed, into their grasp, more flooded in, crushing me against other Newsies and cops. He couldn't be such a threat to them. He was one child!
His head lolled dangerously as I clambered to reach him. The mass of bodies was overwhelming. Newsies, expressing their most fluent tirade of curses, cops screaming and beating back children, the theatre workers frantically racing to save the sets… Hundreds of people thrown into the same chaotic mess. Nearly all of a hundred separating me from him.
A sharp elbow to the gut nearly sent me to my knees- I wasn't used to fighting. The thing that kept me standing was the shoulder-to-shoulder press of cops. And the sight of him, once great, and now fallen. He wasn't quite unconscious, but he certainly wasn't lucid. He had given up struggling- there were too many cops attached to him. His eyes darted about, searching for a face, and familiar face. His eyes caught mine, and he reached out with his arm.
Whether it was an invitation to join him or a plea for comfort, it didn't matter. I grabbed two Newsies and together they launched me forward, nearly over the heads of the cops restraining him. Frantic for a hold, I grasped his waist and accidentally kicked one of his captors in the eye. An apology flashed through my head, but never reached my lips, as I found myself yelling, "Jack! Jack! Cowboy!"
The pig I had hit had freed Jack's arm, and he clutched at me, trying to find any touch at all. I have him my hand, and he took it fiercely, even in his confused state. He faced me and mouthed my name, though I couldn't hear anything over the Newsies' yelling.
Oh God, they couldn't take him. Too many people needed him. Les needed him. The Newsies needed him. I needed him.
I held on as long as I could, till we had been carried outside the theatre, fighting and yelling. I only fought when a cop threatened my grip. I only yelled when Jack's head fell back at a horrible angle. I let the Newsies do the rest, trying to keep my head above the meld of bodies.
A hard cuff to my ear sent the world spinning, and when my vision righted itself I saw Jack on his feet, clawing at his restraints, "Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch him!"
I stood uncertainly. If I fought, I would be arrested. But I couldn't sit still and let Jack be roughed up like that.
"Davie!" his voice snapped my attention to him. He jerked towards me as the pigs yanked him towards the jail car, "Davie! Scram! Get out of here!"
My mouth dropped in protest. We had been through enough together, he couldn't tell me to abandon him. It wasn't fair.
"Davie get out of here!" he yelled, his voice rising nearly hysterically.
I took a step toward him, then felt a hand tug on my sleeve. Another wrapped around my waist, and still another pushed on my side. Les had caught hold of my sleeve and now pulled my away. Several other Newsies leapt at me, hoping to save their second-in-command where they had failed their first. It was too late for Jack.
At the sound of the jail car door slamming shut, I became aware of a loud, wrenching cry of anguish. It took a minute to realize it was me, and then I yelled louder.
A/N- I don't usually write in first POV, so this is a sort of first-shot one-shot kind of thing. Make whatever insinuations you want, as long as you don't flame. Seeing as I'm completely new to the Newsies' fiction, please be gentle. -_-;