Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. I wish I did, though.

Author's Note: Thanks goes out to the reviewers! You all get cookies! Oh, I don't know exactly if Spot can swim or not, but in this story he never learned how, so Stephanie never learned how.

5:27 A.M. Sunday Morning

The early morning air was gentle against my face as I walked towards the docks. My bare feet made no sound, a knapsack slung over my shoulder. The skies were still dark, but growing lighter by the moment. The streets were silent, no cars and no headlights passed me. The wind blew gently in the trees, whispering to me, talking to me. Don't call me crazy.

I breathed in the smell of car exhaust and street tar, closing my eyes for a moment and letting my feet take me wherever. The sidewalk was rough underneath them, but I ignored the growing numbness. I was so sick of being in that living room, listening to everyone sleep meanwhile I was the one staring at the ceiling, thinking over this entire thing.

I liked going out to the bridge sometimes and watching the sun come up over the arches. The river was glittering with newborn sunlight, and the seagulls were just waking up, squawking angrily at each other. It was when the city woke up, when everyone rose with the same thought in their heads: to get through the day. I sat on the railing, watching early morning commuters in their SUVs and expensive sedans flash beneath my feet. I got a feeling of peace there, watching life pass me by without a second glance. I always liked the docks better, though. It was peaceful.

I sighed and turned the corner, smelling the river water mix with the stench of cars. My steps hurried, and I reached the bridge quickly. I looked up at its arches, looking at the brown bricks with a bit of pride. I breathed deeply again and hopped up on the railing, careful not to push myself over accidentally. I took the knapsack off and peered inside at its contents -- nothing but a pair of shoes and some socks. I didn't bother to pack something to eat.

The breeze blew my hair out of its elastic as I stared out at the still dark water. It was flat, still, like a sheet of dark indigo glass. It, too, whispered to me, and if I closed my eyes and listened closely, I could hear the shouts and cries and laughter of the rough-and-tumble newsies that Spot had fearlessly led over his ten years of rule.

That led me to another question. Was Spot really fearless? No one couldn't not have any fears. I was scared at times. Like when we were running. I feared I was going to be left behind in the dust, carted off wherever they were going to take me while my friends got their freedom.

"Thinking?" The voice didn't startle me. I had a feeling he would be here.

"Yeah," I said, looking out on the water again, my eyes open. "Why aren't you in Heaven somewhere, playing poker with your friends?" I didn't look at him. I didn't need too.

"I had a feeling someone needed me more," he said, somewhat in a monotone. "So here I am." I could hear him shift. Even if he was a ghost, you could hear him do things.

Silence followed. We sat there in companionable silence, waiting for the sun to come up. He disappeared for a moment, and then returned.

"I watched sunrises, too." His voice sounded rueful, dazed. "But only when I really needed it."

"I understand," I said. "You have to keep your pride." We fell into silence again, and then the sun started coming up.

The sun cast thousands of yellow streaks of light across the water, temporarily blinding me. The water shimmered, and the light flashed across the glass plated buildings. Clouds were colored pink and orange and red, and I loved it. The air got brighter, smelled newer in a way. Gold and silver mists rose from the water, swirling and dancing. Sunrises were hypnotic, in a way.

Spot stiffened next to me, and then bent over and whispered in my ear, "Sammy's pretty mad."

I jumped off the railing and then started putting my shoes on -- I had totally lost track of time. I pulled on my Converses and then bolted for home, Spot already gone.

"Where have you been?" hissed Nan angrily, glaring harshly at me. "And when I clearly told you that you couldn't leave the house! Do you know how much trouble you're in, young lady?"

"Nan, I was only gone for a few minutes," I said, my voice hard. I was gripping the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles were white. I was trying to hard to control my anger, and I wished Spot was next to me, defending me, instead of sitting on the top of the refrigerator smirking.

"A few minutes!" she repeated, her voice icy. "You were gone for a full hour, Stephanie Ann! How dare you!"

"Nan, stop treating me like a child!" I said angrily, narrowing my eyes. I hated yelling at my grandmother, but things were just going out of control. And besides, where were my parents? I haven't talked to them in about two days. "You were a teenager once, Nan. Think about it."

"You seem to be going off on a whim, Stephanie," she said coolly. "This is serious. You lose focus one time in this and you lose the entire game. Think about that. When your foolishness gets you or your friends killed, how will you feel about it then? Cursed to walk the earth for all eternity because you didn't do what you were supposed to do!"

I felt my jaw tighten and I released my grip on the counter, glaring at her. "This is my life, Nan," I said, steel hardening my words and I actually saw that mask on Nan's face falter a little, "and I think you're trying to use me to fix all the mistakes you made when you were my age."

"Stephanie, stop being such a --"

"Nan, listen to me." I saw her falter once more, and I grabbed up this opportunity like a pit bull snatched up a steak. "How do I know you won't run the first time some goon comes at you with a club?"

Whoa. That was a new one.

"Are you saying you don't trust me?" asked Nan slowly.

"I'm not sure if I do," I said, breathing deeply. I turned on my heel and ran out of the house, back towards the bridge.

"Stephanie!" That was Jackie. She was chasing after me. "Wait, wait, hang on!"

I stopped and glared at her. "What?" I wasn't happy, and she could see it. I scowled at her and walked away, trying to at least regain what was left of my sanity. And yes, now you can call me crazy.

"Wait." I stopped. I turned around. I glared.

"C'mon, Stephie," said Jackie pleadingly. She never pleaded before. "Stick with us. We're not gonna make it on our own."

The rest of them, Maria, Rachel, Diana and Kayla all came up behind Jackie and nodded. Diana stepped forward.

"Well, you're the key," she said. "David said that Spot Conlon was one of --" she paused, and then started again, "--was the most respected newsie of all of New York…and maybe everywhere else. And since you're his reincarnation, I guess you're the most respected "newsie" in all of New York, and maybe everywhere else. You gotta stick with us. You--you just gotta!"

"Listen to her, Steph," said Jackie, taking out that stupid Santa Fe book again and thumbing through it nervously. It was a habit she picked up. "She's got brains…and if you have more than half of one you'd listen to her."

"Yeah," I said, narrowing my eyes at her. "I got brains. And more than just half of one. But this…this is different."

I started walking away, but they all followed me. I mean literally followed me to the docks, where Spot was sitting casually on the crates, holding cards. I walked right past him to the water, sitting down carefully and looking down at my cloudy reflection in the water.

Jackie sat next to me.

"This is so stupid," I said angrily, punching the post next to me. "Why us?"

She shrugged and squinted at the Manhattan skyline. Maybe she was thinking about her parents. "Because," she said, shrugging again. "It happened."

Rachel suddenly came out of nowhere, a bright smile on her face. She started at the end of the dock, and then came charging down, jumping off the dock and into the river. "Whoo!" she shouted, doing a flip into the water.

"Rachel, are you nuts?" called Jackie, grinning down at her friend. "It's October! It's too cold to be swimming!"

"I got skin of steel!" she yelled, dunking her head under water and coming back up, grinning wildly. "Come on in, the water's great!" She splashed around, her sleeves trailing a little in the water.

"Your mom's gonna kill you if you go home like that!" Maria shouted over the edge, leaning against a post.

"C'mon, Maria!" Kayla burst out of nowhere and leaped into the water, her howls reaching the sky when she crashed into the murky river. "It's c-c-cold!"

Diana Jacobs hesitated for a moment, and then leaped into the water and doing a wicked belly-flop. She came up, wincing. "Oww!"

Rachel started laughing, and so did Jackie, and so did Maria and Kayla. I was the only one not smiling. I was more like smirking, watching them dive into the water. Maria did a fantastic front flip and landed smoothly into the water like it was nothing.

"I didn't take diving classes for five years for nothing!"

Jackie eventually dived in, her teeth chattering immediately. She looked up and waved. "C'mon, Stephie, be a good sport…"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not coming in." There was a reason behind that, too. I hate to admit it, but I can't swim. At all. I sink, I don't float. I never learned how.

"Chicken!" shouted Rachel, making clucking noises.

"What?" I was a little ticked off now, being that they called me chicken. I scowled and shouted down to them: "I can't swim!"

"What?" they called back, cupping their hands over their ears. "I can't hear you!"

"I can't swim!"

"Hey, you!" A short Italian boy that looked suspiciously like Rachel appeared next to me, smoking a cigar. "Yeah, you. Ain't you Spot's 'carnation or somthin' like that?" he asked, taking a drag on his cigar.

I nodded. "That's me. What's it to you?"

"I'll let you in a little secret." He glanced both right and left, and then leaned forward and staged whispered, "Spot can't swim, neither."

"Race!" Spot's slightly furious voice careened off the docks as he came marching towards the short Italian boy, scowling deeply. "Why're you so bent on letting people know I can't swim? You told Jack, Mush…everyone from Manhattan who's dead, for Christ's sake!"

"Don't let the man upstairs hear that, Spotty," said Race, gesturing with his cigar towards the sky. "You remember what happened to Specs after he said Christ in front o' Saint Peter. Pearly gate duty for two hundred years!"

"Two hundred years?" I asked, surprised.

"Goes by like two weeks," said Race, shrugging a little.

"Yeah, well, Specs ain't sufferin' humiliation." Jack Kelly, lo and behold, the young man who Jackie took after like they were twins, came swaggering up to us with a black cowboy hat on his head. He was smirking like crazy, and I realized then that everyone in this business smirked whenever they felt like teasing, humiliating, bragging, et cetera in front of their friends.

"Aw, go roll over in yoah grave, Kelly," said Spot. "Just 'cause you're thirty years old in Heaven doesn't mean you can brag…"

"I'm makin' up for all the lost opportunities," he said, knocking his hat back and grinning at Racetrack. "You had the biggest head in the boroughs, Spot, so I wouldn't be talkin'."

"Hilarious." Another blond boy, this time with an eye patch over one eye, came up and leaned against the post I was sitting near, so his legs kind of went through my head.

"Hey, Cyclops," said Spot, pointing to my head, which was currently discombobulated by Kid Blink's legs. "Watch where you put your legs."

"Oh!" He moved and looked down at me, smiling. "Sorry 'bout that, Mini-Spot."

" 'Mini-Spot'?" both me and Spot repeated.

"Yeah," Kid Blink said, shrugging. "Mini-Spot."

"Great," I muttered sarcastically, looking gloomily down at the water where my friends were turning blue. Not in a dangerous sense, I mean. Their lips were probably blue by now.

"Where's Mush?" asked Kid Blink after a few moments of silence.

"Met this ghost girl last night," said Racetrack, taking a last drag on his cigar and then tossing it into the river. "She's real pretty, but not to smart."

"Then they're perfect for each other," said Spot with a shrug. He smirked a little and said, "You remember Sally Winters?"

"Yeah," said Jack, apparently thinking hard. "Was she that blond at Medda's party?"

"Which blond and which party?" asked Racetrack.

Laughter rippled through the group. I watched my friends start to come out of the water, their teeth chattering and shivering in their soggy clothes.

"I don't mean to be a spoilsport," I said, eyeing them and watching their shoulders shake from the cold. "But you didn't bring towels or an extra pair of clothes…"

"We're all going home after this," said Jackie through her chattering teeth.

"You're going to ride the bus in soaking wet clothes?"

"Soakin'?" Racetrack appeared again to my left and searched everywhere. "Who's gettin' soaked?"

I rolled my eyes and continued. "Or are you gonna walk?" I smirked at them and Jackie scowled, saying, "Nice going, Rachel," and whacking her on the arm.

"Wha'? I didn't do nothing!" she said, rubbing her arm where Jackie had hit her. She looked around and she nodded at me. "Stephie's right. How're we getting home soppin' wet?"

We decided that walking was the best bet. It was warmer outside than it was in the water (Diana provided us with that tidbit of information) and we walked across the bridge.

Author's Note: I know, crappy chapter, but I wanted to get it out there. Please provide me with a little bit of constructive criticism! Thanks.