Disclamor: I don't own Oscar and Morris, they're Disneys, I'm just using them for my own entertainment :)

Author's note: My first attempt at writing from Morris's point of view :O

I just really wanted to explore the Delancey brother's relationship in the same setting as the movie. Let me know what you think, please, please, pleeeeeeease!

And who is going to miss Glee as much as I am? BLAH. I hate waiting. :/

Oscar stamped his feet and blew into his fingers.

"It's impossibly cold tonight." He said. He sniffed, then wiped his nose as snot dripped down the tip. "I hate New York, Morris. I'm going to kill whatever idiot decided people should live where it gets this ridiculously cold. I'm serious."

I smirked at my brother.

He was right about it being a cold night, especially for Oscar who didn't have his coat. Our father, being the man he was, had taken it from my little brother, along with his socks, his gloves, and his hat.

My father didn't know, but once we were down the block I had pulled out an extra pair of my socks for Oscar, and we were taking turns in my coat. I didn't know what Oscar was being punished for, and I'm not entirely sure Oscar knew, either. That was the way it was with our father. He was cruel towards all of us, but Oscar was the youngest boy, and the most common target.

We had three sisters, but they were pampered compared to me and Oscar. Every once in a while our father would lose it, and smack one of our sisters around for a while. But afterward he was always soft with them.

That wasn't how he was with his boys, he never loved us. We had loved him, or at least, I had, though I never told anyone. It seemed foolish to love a man that had told me I didn't matter to him, and eventually I grew out it.

Oscar and I had to look out for each other, we were all we had.

Our father had raised us to be the brawn, at his beck and call. We got used to it after awhile. In fact, we started using it to our advantage. We were going to be hated, so we might as well get what we wanted from life.

We took things, we hurt people. So few stood up to us, that we had our way.

Mostly.

Only the newsies ever challenged us. Even more aggravating was that Jack Kelly, the smug leader of the newsies, always seemed to win the fights.

We wanted so desperately to conquer just one time, that we fought him every morning at the distribution center. We'd come up with something, some stupid idea that we would use to incite Jack, then Oscar and I would have another chance. Still, he always won. How could he always win?

That killed us.

We were worthless if we couldn't win a fight. That was all we had been trained to do, and all we had to look towards in our future. No one expected us to ever rise from where we were into something productive. If we weren't feared, we weren't respected. If we weren't respected, we were hated for nothing.

Hated for nothing.

Maybe we were anyway. We were just being used, even with the small amount of respect and fear doled upon us by others. On nights when it was freezing cold, and we had one coat between us, I would have gladly given over all we had to be free.

I used to wonder a lot if Oscar and I could change, but after a while it seemed pointless to hope. A useless frustration. We were never going be different from who we had been forced to become, who would let us? We were built into the lives we would lead until we died, unhappy and lonely men.

"This is stupid." Oscar said, still bouncing, trying to keep warm in any way he could.

I nodded.

"It's about 30 degrees below, and I'm freezing to death." Oscar hugged his arms to his chest and shivered. "Maybe they aren't coming. What time is it? I bet they ain't showing. We could probably go."

I flipped open my pocket watch with stiff, cold fingers. "Three minutes past midnight, Oscar. Calm down. They're coming."

"Well, I don't want them to come." Oscar shivered again. "If they aren't here by ten after, I say we go home."

Oscar wiped his nose on the back of his hand, the same hand that he clutched around a club. He preferred it because you couldn't feel the person you were beating as well, but that also made it difficult to tell how badly you were hurting them. One time, Oscar had smashed a man in the skull, and the bone gave way. Oscar had thrown up, the man didn't get the chance.

"You know we can't go back home if we don't do the job." I said to him.

Oscar paused. "We'll hang at a bar for an hour, then go home and tell him they never showed."

I shook my head at him. "You got money?"

"No."

"Then who is supposed to pay?" I asked.

Oscar groaned. "I don't know. I'm just so cold! Why does he do stuff like this? Why does he take my warmth and shove me outside? Why can't he take care of his business himself? Why drag us into everything?" He held his suit jacket around him tighter. I pulled my coat off my shoulders and handed it to him.

He took it and shoved his arms inside. "I just wish he'd let up on us."

I nodded. I felt the chill of the night cut through my clothes, and sting my face.

"If they don't show soon, we're splitting, right?" Oscar said, rubbing his bare hands together. "We'll sleep somewhere else. The park, or Weasel's or, someplace? He might not tell on us."

I shook my head. He knew our father would kill us if we didn't do our job. What good were two cowards that hid from their duty?

"What time is it now?" Oscar asked, sniffing his snot up his sinuses. "If it's 12:10, I'm bailing."

"It doesn't matter what time it is." I said, nodding toward the end of the street. "They're here."

Oscar groaned.

He closed his eyes, and I saw his lips moving in a silent prayer. I watched as concentration creased his brow, and a pained, pleading expression flickered across his face.

That was one thing we didn't have in common, he still believed in God. He always went to church on Sunday mornings and left me and Weasel to dole out the newsies papers. He had even saved up and bought himself a cross that he wore everyday. I envied his faith at times, but I could never open my heart up to God that let me and Oscar grow up like we had to.

I glanced up, the men had paused near the end of the street. Had they spotted us? No. One of them was relieving himself in the alley. At least it gave us time.

I wondered about the men. They were men I had only met when my father used me and Oscar to collect their previous debts. I assumed it was a similar situation tonight. We had been given the message 'Delancey says soon'. We were to hurt them, but not disable them.

When Oscar opened his eyes, he let out a deep breath. He worked the dim-witted smirk to his face that he always wore when we were roughing someone up. It was his mask, his way of hiding how much he hated what he was doing. I had learned to go blank. Not to think, not to feel, to just move.

"What'd you pray for?" I asked my little brother in a hushed voice.

"I can't say." He whispered back. He flexed his hands and cracked his neck, getting ready for the attack.

"It's not a wish," I said. I watched the soft fog that rolled out of my mouth. "It's a prayer. You can't cancel out a prayer by telling it. What'd you pray for? Courage? I could use that."

Oscar kept his eyes on the men coming toward us. He shook his head no.

"What'd you ask for then?"

He gripped his club in his raw hands and licked his lips slowly. His answer was simple:

"Forgiveness."

A/N: What do you guys think? Hit or miss? Leave a review either way, it would be much appreciated!

Peace out Fanfiction people!