Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Newsies!
Chapter Four: Royal Suicide
Two weeks had passed since her arrival in Manhattan and, having worked her way up to fifty papers a day, Noa was beginning to feel more and more at ease in her new world. Yes, many human ways were strange and startling to her, but Jack managed to save her from making most obvious mistakes.
Jack did not, however, catch up to her in time to keep the princess from accosting a very confused street magician, demanding to know how he explained showing magic to humans.
"He's not really a wizard," Jack had hissed in her ear, dragging her away by the arm.
"And besides," he had reprimanded, "What are you doing talking to him considering you thought he was? Are you trying to get caught?"
She had murmured a quiet and embarrassed sorry, allowing herself to be led away from the very perplexed performer.
This day, conversely, had passed with unexpected smoothness, without a bump or hitch to indicate that anything was wrong or that Noa was anything other than a newsgirl.
If for no other reason than nothing had yet gone amiss, it should have surprised no one when a fuming gatekeeper from Brooklyn showed up at the Duane Street lodging house, demanding to know why his 'birdies' had been telling him about a 'girl' living there.
BANG
The front door of the house slammed so hard it shook the floor, and Noa jumped to attention from her belly-down position lying on a bunk. She rolled her eyes and turned back to reading the one newspaper she had not managed to sell, but a new sound from the lobby made her pause.
"Where the hell is everyone? Jack! Jack I need to talk to you! Now!" It was a man's voice, gruff and low and entirely unfamiliar.
A slow panic set in, festering in her stomach before it crawled up and hitched in her throat.
Tucking the newspaper under her arm Noa slipped quietly off the mattress and tiptoed to the top of the stairwell, peering around the edge of the doorframe to see if she could catch a glimpse of whoever was on the warpath.
"Hey! What are you doing all the way over in Manhattan, huh?"
The appearance of Jack in the lobby startled her, and Noa whipped back out of sight before she could see the newcomer.
"I've been hearing things," the man accused, "Things I'm not too happy about."
Jack laughed outright at his annoyance.
"Yeah, like what?"
"Like there's someone here who's not supposed to be. Like a girl."
"Look Spot, I don't know where you get your information from, but I don't know what you're talking about."
Spot? Noa thought, holding back a snicker, Who is this guy?
"You think I'm some kind of idiot, Jack? You think no ones gonna notice that you're out selling with some girl?" Noa could practically hear his teeth clench in aggravation, "You know the rules! What do you think you're doing?!"
"Spot," Noa snorted in laughter despite herself, but she held her breath as both boys paused at the odd noise coming from the bunkroom, only daring to breath again when Jack continued, "It's not what you think. I just need you to trust me on this one."
"Oh no," Spot held up his hands, "No way. This is more than your job on the line, Jacky-boy, this is your life. Our lives."
"You bring girls back to your lodging house all the time."
"Yeah, but I don't let them live there!"
Jack sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair.
"If I tell you this, you can't tell any of your newsies."
In the bunkroom Noa clutched her newspaper and fervently shook her head in horror. He couldn't.
"I'll tell 'em if it's going to hurt them," Spot narrowed his eyes dangerously.
"It won't," Jack assured him, and finally the other newsie nodded in assent.
"Fine."
Only a few feet up the stairs Noa practically writhed in dread, her breath coming in little hiccups of air.
When Racetrack appeared seemingly from nowhere it took everything Noa had to keep from screaming aloud.
"Hey, whatcha doin'?"
"Shhh!" She hissed at him, jerking her head toward the stairs.
Racetrack poked his head around the doorframe long enough to see Spot in close conversation with Jack before he quickly motioned Noa follow him.
Safely through an open window, up the fire escape, and now sitting on the roof Noa turned to Racetrack in question.
"Who is Jack talking to and why can't I listen? They're talking about me!"
"It's the leader of the gatekeepers in Brooklyn, and trust me when I say he'd be none too thrilled when he figured out you were up there listening to them."
"Yeah but—but what is Jack gonna tell him? He wanted to know why there was a girl staying at the lodging house!"
"I'm sure he'll think of something," Racetrack said, slightly less than reassuringly.
Noa gave into her cynicism and rolled her eyes.
"Great."
· · · · ·
Back in the lobby Jack managed to start his explanation in perhaps the most vague manner possible.
"You know the princess of Mora?"
"Yeah, I heard about that, 'spretty pathetic if you ask me," Spot huffed, "Why?"
"Wait—what?"
Spot raised his eyebrows at his friend's genuine confusion.
"Whaddya mean, what?"
"I mean, what are you talking about? What's pathetic?"
"You didn't hear?!"
"Hear what?!" Jack all but yelled, increasingly irritated with Spot speaking to him like he was an idiot.
Spot leaned in closer, "One of my guys just got back from Mora, right?"
"Uh huh," Jack tried to hide his puzzlement at the conspiratorial whisper.
"Well apparently it's all over the five kingdoms that Mora's little princess went nuts and offed herself. Royal suicide, just like that, out of the blue. They had a huge funeral about a week and a half ago."
Jack gaped at him dumbly before Spot could no longer contain himself, "Pick your chin up off the floor! What the hell are you staring at me like that for?!"
Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts the Manhattan newsie finally managed to squeak out, "Sorry! That's just—that's really too bad. I had a chance to meet her once, she seemed nice."
"Yeah, it's a real sob story, get it together already," Spot sniped, "What does any of this have to do with the girl I've been hearing about?"
"Did you ever get a chance to meet the princess?" He asked conversationally, trying to buy himself time to think.
"No, never even seen her before," came the flippant answer, "Again, what does this have to do with that I came here for?"
At that moment a light bulb went off in Jack's head so bright that he had to bite his tongue to keep from grinning.
"Nothing, nothing, it's just a shame, s'all," Jack went on casually, "So this girl we have here. See, Dutchy was just sitting by the portal, and all of the sudden this person falls through…"
Leaning back against the check in counter Jack wove his lie effortlessly, telling Spot all of the poor girl who gave up her powers to save another's life, and how the shock and exertion of her escapade left her with no memory of who she was, not even her own name.
The Manhattan gatekeepers, Jack explained, had taken in the girl out of the pure goodness of their hearts. What did it matter to Spot if Jack never told him that the girl was the princess Noa, supposedly dead and buried?
"Huh," Spot grunted when Jack was finished wrapping up his story, "Hell of a thing to do, giving up your magic like that."
"I know," Jack's head bobbed in agreement.
"So where are the rest of your guys, anyway? This place is like a ghost town."
"Eh, most of 'em are downstairs," Jack waved a hand toward the staircase that led to the dining hall area, "'Cept Itey, but who knows where that elf is. We had a card game going until you came in here yelling your head off."
"Is Snitch here? He still owes me money."
"Nah," Jack shook his head, "He's on vacation in Mora right now. He'll be back in a few weeks though."
At that moment Racetrack sauntered nonchalantly down the stairs, feigning surprise at the Brooklyn gatekeeper's presence.
"Oh! Hey Spot, how's it going?"
"Fine, just finding out about this new girl you've all been hiding over here."
Racetrack laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and hoping that Jack had found a way to keep Noa's identity safe, "Yeah, sorry about that. Guess we shoulda figured you'd find out sooner or later."
"So uh, Race, could you grab Cal and bring her down? Spot came all the way here, he might as well meet her." Jack gave the fairy a long and hard stare, struggling to make him believe he knew what he was doing.
"Cal? WhyCal?" Spot scoffed.
The floor squeaked as Jack shuffled his feet in slight embarrassment, "It's uh, short for California. We're telling everyone she's from there because she sounds nothing like a local. 'Sides, we don't know her name so we don't have anything else to call her."
Spot quirked an eyebrow in response.
"Don't ask me," Jack rolled his eyes, "It was Boots' idea."
"Figures."
· · · · ·
The crunch of Racetrack's soft footsteps on the roof reached Noa's ear, and she turned her head toward him from where she lay on her back on the shingles, staring at the pink clouds of the sunset.
"Hey, Jack wants you to go meet Spot."
"Yeah? What did he tell him about me?"
"I honestly don't know, but Jack called you Cal in front of him, so I'm fairly certain he doesn't know who you are."
"Oh good, your confidence is really comforting," Noa spoke sarcastically, but her smile took the edge out of her words.
Offering a hand to help her up Racetrack pulled the short girl to her feet, and they climbed the fire escape ladder down to the open window of the bunkroom. Noa hopped inside and Racetrack followed close behind, almost running into her as she stopped dead in her tracks at the top of the stairs.
Frozen on the top step blood pounded in Noa's head like a drum, her knuckles whitening with the tightness of her grip on the railing as she stared at the back of the dark blonde headed boy standing next to Jack.
"Uh, Cal?" Racetrack whispered in her ear, "You okay?"
It can't be him, the frantic voice in her mind raved.
Her head starting shaking before she could stop and Noa backpedaled so hard she slammed into Racetrack, who caught her by the arms, holding her steady.
No way, he said he wouldn't come here.
The commotion caught Jack's attention and he twisted around, the boy next to him turning with him.
"You must be, uh,California, right?" The blonde boy couldn't hide his small smirk at the name.
His eyes swept over her; from her bare feet against the wood floor to the auburn curls that fell inches past her shoulders. Her posture and murky expression gave him every indication of a person somewhat misused, and his chest constricted slightly.
From portals to people, Spot Conlon had always been a sucker for fixing broken things.
When his face came into view Noa let out a ragged breath, and her hold on the railing loosened. She blinked away the image of the man that her clearly masochist mind had conjured, blissfully unaware of the strange looks the three boys were giving her.
"Cali?" Jack stepped towards the bottoms steps, examining her ashen face intently, "You all right? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"What?" She snapped out of her daze, eyes focusing on Jack, "Oh, sorry! Your friend, um, just looks someone I knew."
Spot shock Jack a suspicious glance and the Manhattan leader blanched slightly, "Oh, are you starting to remember some things? About home?"
Noa stared at the intense look Jack was giving her and her brow wrinkled slightly in confusion.
"Yeah…" She finally said slowly after a pause, "Yeah, I think I am."
The sentence was almost spoken as a question as she looked to Jack to see if that was the right response. Her heartbeat calmed at his almost imperceptible nod of approval.
"You must be Spot," Noa said to the other boy, coming down the stairs and extending a hand, "Nice to meet you."
Spot's story echoed through Jack's head and he couldn't help but study Noa with suspicion laced through his gaze.
She was lying about something, he knew that now, the question was what and how he could find out without scaring her away. The last thing he wanted was for her to run from the lodging house and get killed in the human world under his watch.
As she got closer to him Noa realized that Spot's similarities in appearance to Dayne ended with his hair color and basic build. His blue stare pierced where Dayne's brown eyes had glowed; his nose upturned at the end where Dayne's had been long and straight.
Spot's callused hand grasped her own to shake, and when Noa looked down at his ink stained fingers she noted that they two were opposite from Dayne's thin and slender digits.
Sheer willpower was all that curbed Spot's reaction to her magic-less touch to nothing more than a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. It felt like touching something you expected to be warm, but found was frozen instead. The feeling lingered on his hand and he narrowly resisted the urge to wipe it on his pants.
"You too," Spot's head inclined towards her, but his gaze stayed locked on her guarded hazel eyes curiously, "Jack's been telling me all about you."
She didn't notice the cane stuck in his belt loop until Spot rested his hand on the top of it in an obviously habitual gesture.
Wizard, she concluded mentally, Interesting wand, though.
"Has he?" Her lips turned up in a small smile, "Nothing too bad I hope."
"S'okay," Spot gave her a roguish wink, "I'm sure it was all lies."
The blush that tinted her cheeks faded as quickly as it had come, but both Jack and Spot were quick enough to catch it.
"Let's hope so," Noa flashed Jack a threateningly sweet smile, and he gave her one in return, eyes laughing.
Spot watched the exchange with a quizzical expression before speaking to Jack, "Anyway, I just came to make sure you weren't doing anything stupid—"
"Thanks," Jack cut in sarcastically, "I appreciate it."
"—But I should probably be getting back to Brooklyn."
"Well, it was good to see you," Jack said a bit too hastily, eager to have the other leader leave before Noa's cover was blown.
Hand on the doorknob Spot paused in his departure, turning back to Noa, "If you ever get sick of these guys, you're welcome to come sell in Brooklyn for a day or something."
Racetrack and Jack raised their eyebrows at his offer, twin expressions of interest on their faces. The Brooklyn newsie himself seemed surprised at his own words.
"Thanks," Noa smiled graciously, "I might do that sometime."
Spot nodded and opened the door, walking out into street as the city prepared for nightfall. He pulled on the grey cap that had been wedged into his back pocket, his expression dark and thoughtful.
Why the hell did I say that?
Brooding over his statement he began the long trek back to Brooklyn, right hand twirling the cane idly.
That night he lay awake staring at the ceiling, and when he finally fell asleep he dreamt of sad hazel eyes and skin so cold it burned.
Shout Outs:
midnight1899: Oh man, thank you so much! I didn't even think of doing flashbacks, but what a great suggestion! I couldn't really fit one into this chapter very well, but I'll try to do some soon. Thanks for the wonderful review!
dreamweaver2: Haha, yeah, it's amazing how much better about a story positive encouragement will make you feel!
CUcat87: Reviews like this just absolutely make my day. Thank you so much!!
