Hey guys, sorry for the wait. I've been through a series of obstacles that involved broken objects since my last update. My beloved laptop broke, and my little brother broke his leg on his skateboard and has been a needy little brat. So this one is for you, Perry (my laptop, R.I.P.), and Brody (my brother, even though you'll never read it). I hope it's good, let me know if you're still enjoying this.

Also, thank you so, so much for the reviews. They made me feel all giddy inside, especially tot he guest reviewer who told me to "updato tomato," that made my day. :)

Chapter 3: Sorry

Mush could feel cool hands on his face as he blinked into focus. At first all he could see was a blinding white light. He squinted and a woman's face came into view. Mama. The white surrounding her reflected off of her dark golden hair and she smiled as she whispered, "Jonathan." Mush smiled as he stared back up at her, not wanting the image to be erased. He blinked and all of a sudden the light was gone. His mother's face was replaced by a little girl's with the same hair falling into her face as she looked at him with concern. Samantha. Mush found himself lying on the floor of his stepfather's apartment as his little sister tended to his wounds all those years ago.

"What's he's smilin' for?" a harsh New York accent said, shattering Mush's vision. Samantha's face was replaced with Racetrack's, who looked down at him with concerned dark eyes. The atmosphere caught up with Mush and he could hear Medda Larkson's voice ringing throughout the theater and being mixed with the sound of glasses clinking, people laughing and the troubled words of the newsies surrounding him. He sighed. There had been no Mama or Samantha.

"Don't just stand there, help 'im up," said Jack. Mush felt hands push their way under his armpits and sit him up on the floor.

"You okay, Mush?" said Blink, his one eye searching Mush for an explanation. Mush rubbed the back of his head where it had hit the floor. Had he passed out? It must have been the alcohol, he concluded.

"Yeah," he groaned. Race crouched next to Blink and furrowed his brow.

"S'matter with you? You see a pretty girl and go weak at the knees? We'se gave you the name Mush for the wrong reason," he said. Mush looked around wildly. Maybe it wasn't a dream. Maybe Samantha had been there. Or perhaps it was just a girl who looked like Samantha. Either way he had to find out.

"What pretty girl? Where is she?" he asked.

"I think you scared her off," said Jack with a chuckle. "When we asked her to come over here to give ya a birthday kiss, I don't think she wanted to do it while ya were unconscious." The surrounding boys laughed. Mush ignored his comment and struggled to stand up, getting a hand from David when he stumbled.

"Oh wait, she's right there," said David. They all turned to see a girl walking toward them and looking down at something in her hands, her familiar-looking hair covering most of her face. When she arrived she looked up and stared at Mush. She was definitely older, but there was no mistake; she was Samantha. Her hazel eyes glowed as she studied his face and her small, freckled nose crinkled, just like it had when she was a girl.

"It really is you," said Mush, his vision being blurred by the tears that tried to escape. He had to force himself not to cry in front of the guys. Samantha smiled sheepishly.

"Yes, it's me," she said. Mush stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. He noticed a slight hesitation in her acceptance of the hug but her arms ended up placing her hands on his back.

"I thought…I thought I'd never see you again," he whispered. A small, satirical chuckle escaped from Samantha's mouth and she pulled away. She looked at him and a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

"Well, now that you've seen me, I have to go back to work," she said, not bothering to wipe her face as she handed him a rolled up cloth with ice inside. "This is for your head." Mush took it without thinking and without another glance Samantha turned on her heels and rushed into the crowd.

"Who is that?" asked Skittery. Mush turned and realized that his friends had crowded him again. He couldn't bring himself to speak. Instead he shoved the bundle of ice into Skittery's hands, ignoring the boy's protests and took off in search of Samantha. He caught her taking the order of a wizened man sitting by himself at a table.

"Samantha!" he called. Samantha looked up at him, shook her head and walked away to go fill the order. Feeling hurt, Mush sped up to her and grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Her eyes had turned cold.

"You're not happy to see me, Sammy?" he demanded. Samantha pulled away from his grip.

"Of course I'm happy to see you. Of course I'm happy to know that you're actually alive, seeing as you didn't keep your promise to me," she said sarcastically. Mush looked at her with pleading eyes.

"You don't understand. You see—"

"Look Johnny, or Mush, whatever they call you. I have work to do if I want to keep my job so I suggest you leave me alone and go back to your friends," she said. She left abruptly and disappeared into the crowd again. Mush pursed his lips as he tried to keep himself from shaking. What happened to the little girl that he had loved so much? Defeated, Mush walked back to his friends. Most of them had proceeded back to their tables and were once again falling under the spell of Medda's voice. A few of them looked up with a mixture of curious and concerned faces as he returned to his seat. Kid Blink leaned over so that his face was close to Mush's.

"You okay?" he murmured. Mush nodded half-heartedly.

"What was that all about?" asked Racetrack, his loud voice moving others to stare at Mush.

"Nothin'," said Mush.

"That wasn't nothin'," insisted Race. "What'd ya do to get on that dame's bad side? I'll tell ya, if you'se don't know what to do with her, let me have a go and show ya how it's done—"

Race had barely finished his sentence before Mush got up and pulled at his friend by the collar, hoisting him up out of his seat. A look of horror and confusion flashed across the dark-haired Italian's face. Mush was never known to be violent.

"What d'ya think yer doin'?" asked Race, his voice high-pitched and shaking. Mush's glare softened. He in fact had no idea what he was doing. He let go of Race so abruptly that the shorter boy stumbled back into his chair. Racetrack adjusted his wrinkled shirt as he stared grudgingly at Mush.

"Sorry," Mush muttered. He didn't bother to look at the incredulous gazes that fell on him as he returned to his seat.

"Jeez Mush, I was only jokin'," said Racetrack. Mush nodded his acknowledgment. "Next time you pull a stunt like that I won't hesitate to soak ya," Race added, obviously embarrassed at being handled the way he had.

"I think it's time to go," said Jack. He stood up and motioned for the other boys to follow. A couple boys grumbled their dissent but most agreed and began to gather themselves to leave. Mush, however, stayed where he was.

"You comin'?" asked David. Mush shook his head.

"I think I'll stay a little while longer," he said.

"You ain't walkin' back alone, not with a hot head," said Kid Blink. Mush didn't bother to look at him.

"I said I'll stay," he said defiantly. The other boys exchanged puzzled glances. Mush had never acted like this before.

"Okay then," Blink said softly. The others left, muttering amongst themselves as they did so.

Mush ordered another drink and settled himself in his chair in anticipation for the end of the show. He couldn't leave…not yet.

Samantha slumped against the bar she had just finished cleaning, more than relieved that the night was over. Seeing Jonathan had taken a lot out of her, and the only thing she wanted to do was crawl in bed and pretend that it had never happened. How could he have just forgotten about her for seven years and then expect her to just fall into his arms with happiness after an accidental encounter? The thought of him assuming she would forgive and forget that easily angered her.

"Sam?" said a voice from behind her. Without turning around she already knew who it was.

"We're closed," she said.

"So this is how it's gonna be, huh? I know that I ain't yer favorite person right now but damn it, I'm still yer brother," said Jonathan. Samantha's eyes turned into slits as she faced him and she could feel her ears becoming hot with rage.

"Don't you swear at me, Jonathan Meyers, and the last time I checked brothers don't just up and leave their sisters," she said. Jonathan gazed at her, looking like he was trying to find the right words to say.

"I didn't just leave. Well, I didn't want to anyways," he said, looking at her with pleading eyes. She knew he wanted her to understand but it was just so hard a concept to grasp.

"Then why didn't you let me go with you? Or better yet, why didn't you come back for me?" she asked. She felt herself giving him the same pleading look he was giving her. She knew she was being demanding, but he deserved it, right? Jonathan's bottom lip trembled and if she didn't know any better, she would've sworn that he looked almost afraid of her.

"Well, you'se was so young and I didn't want nothin' to happen to ya. But I was gonna come back, I swear, it's just…well…I was…" he trailed off, leaving Samantha confused and even angrier than before. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He broke eye contact with her and looked down at his scuffed boots. There was silence as Samantha watched him. He had grown to be such a handsome boy; she supposed he looked just like his father. But she had no sympathy for that pathetic excuse for an explanation.

"Yes, you are sorry," she concluded. She proceeded to walk around the bar and clean tables, hoping that Jonathan would take a hint and go away.

"Wait!" called her brother. No such luck; she had forgotten that he hadn't been particularly good with hints. She ignored him and continued to wipe down the tables with her rag. "Can I just ask you somethin'?" Samantha did not reply. "Why are you workin' here? Luke would never allow you to work in a place like this."

"That's none of your business," she said. Jonathan stepped in front of her, anger flashing across his face.

"It is my business, I'm yer brother!" he nearly shouted. Samantha glared at him. Her eyes stung with salty tears as she thought about her father.

"Oh yeah? Then where were you when Papa died, huh?" she said. She watched as Jonathan's face took on the expression as if he had gotten punched in the stomach. A sense of vertigo came over her and she nearly stumbled from being so overwhelmed. Her tears were falling shamlessly down her face now.

"Samantha, I…I'm sorry," said Jonathan.

"You've said that before," Samantha spat. "Everyone—Mama, you, Papa—you all left and now I have no one," she said. Jonathan took a step closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"That ain't true. You have me," he said. Samantha shook her head and stepped out of his reach.

"No. I had you, but not anymore," she told him. Jonathan looked hurt, but she didn't care. What she said was true.

"I—"

"Mush?" Whatever Jonathan was about to say was cut off by Medda, who had appeared at Samantha's side.

"Oh, heya Medda," said Jonathan. "Thanks for everythin' tonight, I had a real good time." Medda smiled.

"I'm glad you did. It's getting late, though, and I know Mr. Kloppman doesn't approve of his boys walking in at all hours of the night," the older woman said. Jonathan nodded and dug his hands into his pockets.

"Right. Well, goodnight," he said before turning and walking toward to door. Samantha sucked in a ragged breath when he turned back around. "Ya look real beautiful, Samantha." Then he turned and disappeared behind the door.

Samantha realized that Medda might have seen her crying so she quickly wiped her tears.

"Is everything okay, Samantha?" Medda asked, examining the girl's face. Samantha nodded and put on her most convincing smile.

"Yes ma'am, I'm fine," she tried to reassure her. Medda smiled back and pushed a strand of hair away from the girl's face.

"Don't you go worrying about Mush. He's a good boy who means no harm. Handsome fellow, isn't he?" said Medda. She winked before turning around and walking to her dressing room. Samantha sighed, not sure if she should be relieved or horrified at Medda's implications. As a headache began to form at her temples, Samantha put down her rag and headed for bed. Hopefully sleep would wash away this memory.

Mush let the door of Irving Hall slam shut as he stepped out into the cool April air. He kicked at a pebble in defeat and began to walk toward Duane Street. Why couldn't he have told her why he never came back? What had stopped him? Yer a coward, he thought to himself.

"Hey," said a voice from behind him. Mush whirled around in alarm, balling his fists in anticipation for anyone who wanted to mess with him. He relaxed when he saw Kid Blink put his hands up in mock defense.

"Whoa there slugger, don't worry, I'm not Racetrack," he said. Mush rolled his eyes and paused so that his best friend could fall into step with him.

"What're ya doin' out here?" Mush asked. Blink hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat pockets and shrugged.

"I was waitin' for ya. Didn't I say you weren't walkin' back alone with a hot head?" he said. Mush chewed on the inside of his cheek, upset that Blink didn't trust him not to get into trouble, but also grateful that he would watch out for him.

"You didn't have to do that, I was in there for an hour," said Mush. Blink shrugged again.

"It didn't feel that long," he said.

The boys walked in amicable silence for a few minutes and Mush was becoming more and more thankful that Blink had waited for him, because he wouldn't have wanted to walk all the way back by himself at this time of night.

"So," said Blink, shattering the peace. "Am I allowed to ask who that goil was?"

"Nope," replied Mush.

"Fair enough."