Author's Note: Today has been super exhausting. Some of our friends from back in Texas have come to visit and we've been dragging them all over the city. Thankfully, I already had this chapter edited, so all I had to do was upload it! Lucky y'all! :P Narniafan96, BritishIsBetter639, destaaa246, Rachel, mystery girl, and Ealasaid Una: thank you so much for your reviews! They mean the world to me. :)

Chapter 3- With Fury

Jack tapped his fingers against his knee in irritation. It was half past ten and it wasn't like David to bring Al home late and with each passing minute he grew more and more antsy. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Come on," Racetrack groaned, standing up and waving for Jack to follow.

"What?"

"Let's go look for 'em. You're makin' me nervous with all your twitchin'." He stood just outside and lit a cigar. Kloppman wouldn't let the boys smoke inside. He was lenient with them when it came to all rules except this one. He had this gnawing fear that the boys would end up setting the house on fire. He claimed he had enough to worry about without the entire Lodge bursting into flames. With Matches now as a regular tenant, that was a legitimate possibility. The boys respected his wishes and made sure to smoke outside, even in the dead of winter- which is no small feat when it comes to a New York winter.

Race grew irritated when Jack didn't immediately follow him.

"Mush!" he yelled.

"What?" the shout came from upstairs.

"Get ya rear out here!"

The newsie in question poked his head out of the bunk room a few seconds later.

"We's gonna go lookin' for Davy an' Al. Send a boidy if they get back afore we do."

"They're not back yet?" Mush asked, brow knitting together with worry.

"No."

Mush leaned back into the room for a minute like he was talking to someone else. A few seconds later, he was walking down the stairs with Specs.

"We're comin' too. Skittery'll send the boidy."

Racetrack nodded and then looked at Jack, who still hadn't moved, with a put out expression. "Come on, we ain't gettin' any youngah."

Jack cocked a grin and rolled his eyes as he followed his friends out the door.

"Where should we look?" Specs asked as they started heading north, in the direction of the dance hall.

"We'll get closer'n split up. Whistle if ya find 'em," Jack instructed.

"They prolly just got caught up with their smoochin'," Race grinned from ear to ear, earning him a glare from Jack. "What? It's happened to the best of us."

"I thout you was the one sayin' we were gonna hoit 'im for that type o' thing."

"Not for kissin' his goil. I meant for messin' around with 'er." Race wiggled his eyebrows at his friend and Jack shook his head with a small smile.

A few minutes later, the two groups split up so that Race and Jack were heading up one street while Mush and Specs were a few streets away, combing their way through.

"So how were the tracks this mornin'?"

"Good, I won five bucks on one o' the horses," Racetrack grinned, still puffing at his cigar.

"Whattaya gonna do with it?" "Psh. Put it on another horse."

Jack shook his head, but smiled at his friend's antics. Gambling was Race's passion, but Jack sure hoped the dark side of the habit never caught up with him. It was one thing when he was a newsie and only had so much to bet. One day, he might be supporting a family and gambling away his paycheck and that was something Jack hoped he wouldn't be around to see if it did happen.

They were almost to the end of the street when Race nudged him.

"Ya hear that?" his friend asked, stopping where he stood.

"No, what'd ya hear?"

Race looked around and peered into the alleyway on their right. Jack followed suit and heard what sounded like a weak cough or a groan. That was all the cue his Italian friend needed to head straight into the dark alley. Jack intended to wait for him to investigate until he heard Race's started curse, followed by a long string of curses.

"Jack! Jack get ovah here now!" Race's voice sounded frantic and Jack was too surprised to question it. He half sprinted over to the where his friend was now crouching. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but a few seconds later, he realized he was staring at the crumpled forms of his best friend and his sister.

"Holy- Oh God." Jack dropped onto one knee and felt his pulse switch into overtime. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the fact that the knee of his pants was getting wet from whatever puddle it had landed in. God, he hoped it wasn't blood.

David was the closest to where he was and he didn't look good. His eyes were fluttering open, but half swollen along with the rest of his face. There was no telling how bad the damage was in this light, but if his inability to properly cough meant anything, he wasn't in great shape.

"Dave, Davy, you okay? What happened?" Jack asked, hurriedly, feeling the tremors that started at the base of his neck and spread outward.

"She's breathin', but she don't look good," Racetrack called from where he was already gathering up Al in his arms. "I can carry 'er, but there ain't no way I'll be able to pick him up."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." Jack felt flustered and panicked, like the walls of the alleyway were about to close in on them at any moment. He started to slide his arms under David when he remembered that he needed to let Mush and Specs know the two had been found. He pulled back enough to loose a loud whistle with his thumb and pointer finger in his mouth, then scooped up David in one swift motion.

"Let's hurry. I don't like the look of this."

They hurried out into the dim lamplight and walked as briskly as they could with the dead weight they carried. Jack risked quick glanced over at his sister and felt his stomach churn. She didn't look much better than David. They were both bloodied, bruised messes.

Whoever had hurt the people he loved like this was going to pay. Jack would have them bleeding from every pore in their body when he got done with them.

And, God help him, if either of these two died, there wouldn't be a force in the world that would keep him from murdering the idiot who had dared laid a finger on them. He would strangle the life from their body like an over-ripe tomato. Hell, if this bastard showed his face any time soon, Jack might just kill them anyway.

He was pulled from his morose thoughts by the arrival of Specs and Mush. Their strings of cursing overlapped and intertwined with one another. Mush then offered to carry Al for Race and the former accepted. When they transferred her, Race had blood on his arms. Jack nearly lost it at that point and Race wiped at his arms like the blood was acid on his skin.

They made it back to the Lodge in record time. Specs went barrelling through the front door before them and Racetrack held it open as Mush and Jack stumbled in.

"Where should we put 'em?" Mush asked, turning toward Jack.

There were basically three options. They could lay them in the front room, but the only cushioning there was the couch and he didn't feel right having one of them lay on the ground right now. They could go for Jack and Al's room, but he didn't want to take them through the attic and have to maneuver around everything. The bunks were easy access and close to the washroom.

"Bottom bunks. I don't care if the boys wake up."

The two trudged up the stairs. Racetrack went ahead of them, kicking the door open and ordering the closest two newsies on the bottom bunks out of bed immediately and flipping on all of the lights. Most of the boys had been in bed, but all were up and complaining now. Their moaning stopped when Jack and Mush came through the door.

There was a split second of silence as the boys took in what was before them. Mush and Jack eased the two injured newsies onto the two beds. Then the hubbub came back full force as questions were thrown around the room.

"What happened?"

"Are they alright?"

"I thought they was supposed to be on a date?"

"What the hell?"

"Who did it? I'll soak 'em!"

"We'll all soak 'em!"

The questioned volleyed across the room, back and forth, until Racetrack had finally had enough.

"If yous don't shut your rotten mouths right now, I'll soak ya myself!" he yelled, face red with agitation. They fell quiet, not used to seeing him in such a state.

It was at that point that Kloppman came bustling in behind Specs. Though the old man was still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked both alert and concerned. He leaned over Al for a tense moment, before looking up and locking eyes with Jack.

"We need a Doc," he told the newsie leader simply.

"Skittery, go with Specs," Jack ordered. The two were out the door in half a second. "Race, go wash yourself off. An' Boots, go get some wet cloths and bandages." He looked to Kloppman, silently asking him if there was anything else he needed. The older man inclined his head and set to work on his two unconscious patients.

Jack hadn't really had the chance to look at David and Al before now. He hadn't really wanted to. But then Kloppman was making sure the two could breathe properly while telling Jack to wash their faces and any wounds he could find on them. So Jack set about doing just that.

Mush volunteered to help with David, and Jack moved over to his sister. He looked down at her, apprehension bubbling up in his stomach. Her hair was a tangled mess, half out of the bun she had worn so prettily earlier tonight. It was caked with mud and a bit of blood from the gash a few inches above her eyebrow. Her left eye was swelling shut and her lower lips split in two different places. There was a long scratch that extended from her left ear, down her jawline, and ended at the tip of her chin.

Gently, Jack wiped the mud and blood from her face, which made her look much more human. He looked at the dress she had so recently bought with Sarah. She had been so proud of it when she brought it home, showing it off to Jack and smiling so brightly. Now it was in tatters. She was bleeding through it at certain places. Her right hip was turning red, as was the area under the left side of her rib cage.

Jack nibbled at his lower lip. Her stomach and rib cage were probably in pretty bad shape. He ought to have taken her upstairs, now that he reconsidered it, so she would have privacy. He would have to kick the boys out in a minute, he realized.

He looked down at her legs and saw that the hem on her right side was bloodier than he had anticipated. He slid her dress up to her knees and found two deep gashes that crossed her calf like an "X". The cuts were clean, like it had been done with precision. He couldn't tell how deep they were- he really didn't want to know- but one glance over to David said the perpetrator had done the same to him.

"Get 'is leg, Mush." So that was where most of the blood had come from. Jack clenched his teeth as he hurriedly cleaned the wound and wrapped it tightly with some of the bandages Boots had brought him, hoping that would stop the bleeding until the doctor returned. The cuts would probably need stitches.

"Oh God," Mush's exclamation told him the other newsie had found the "x" that was undoubtedly the signature of whoever it was that had jumped the couple. Jack refused to look and busied himself with taking off his sister's shoes and trying to distance himself from the damage so he wouldn't go insane. He had to take care of them now. He could freak out later.

It was then that he found a folded up piece of paper stuffed into her sock. The front read "Cowboy". Jack felt his blood run cold. There was no longer any question as to what had happened or why. Whoever was gunning for his newsie "throne" had just struck again and this time they had taken it too far.

Jack forced himself to pocket the note. His hands shook with fury.