Disclaimer: Disney owns Newsies and all the wonderful characters from the movie.

Ten.
You Ain't No Hero

"What?"

"I'll go," Ellie repeated.

"You really have lost your mind," Francesca stated seriously, comprehending Ellie's meaning. "You aren't possibly thinking of going out there. They'll see you! And then… and then what if you get hurt?"

"Nevermind me."

"But—"

"Please, Francesca. If something happens to you and your parents find out I was with you tonight…"

"They won't find out," Francesca promised.

"No, they won't," Ellie agreed reluctantly, "as long as you get home without a single scratch on you."

"I'll go," the boy interrupted, attempting to silence the two. "I'll distract 'em, and you guys can make a run for it."

How the coward in Ellie wished she could let him go instead, and she felt her cheeks redden with shame at the thought. "I'd like if you made sure Francesca got home safely," she managed. Of course Ellie wanted to go home, too, but so much had gone wrong tonight and she was determined to make amends. The regrets had been mounting up to this point: if only she'd stopped Francesca from leaving the house. If only she'd had the courage to break the two apart and force each to go home. If only she'd brought that ridiculous skillet to defend herself. If only.

So she wouldn't let the boy take the risk. If he endangered himself, Francesca would undoubtedly be reduced into a state of terror. Besides, in all practicality he was faster than Ellie, and in her mind, had a better chance at evading the gang and making it to Ivy Street.

But the boy would have none of it. "You can't go," he said. "If she catches you…" He paused to think. "Listen, you can't stay in Queens. It ain't safe here for you anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Francesca asked, concern etched in her face.

He sighed. "Blade thinks she owns this part of Queens. She don't like losing, in anything, to nobody," he explained. "She likes things her way and they didn't go her way tonight. Ya gotta understand… by standin' up to her, you and me, we just challenged her place as the leader of the gang. So she ain't gonna let us go just like that. Say she doesn't catch you now. She'll keep huntin' for you until she finds you. And then…" he trailed off. They all heard the voices from the street. The gang was closing in on them.

They were too close. If the three of them wasted any more time arguing, someone from the gang was bound to spot them. Ellie gathered her bearings and prayed for courage. "We don't have time. Take her home, and please be careful," she pleaded. Before the either of them could protest, Ellie jumped out of the alleyway, leaving Francesca and the boy in a frozen state of apprehension.

The gang hadn't been looking her way when she revealed herself. Ellie took off running in the opposite direction, hoping they'd hear her footsteps. Her nervous energy changed into adrenaline as she raced onto the main road.

They took the bait. Ellie chanced a brief glance over her shoulder to see a pack of livid girls chasing after her. She had to lead them as far away from Ivy Street as possible, so Ellie headed towards the waterfront. She tried to plan her next move, what she would do once she reached the East River, but she couldn't focus on anything other than trying to stay ahead of Blade's gang. She willed her legs to move faster, but the more she tried, the heavier her legs became.

In her flustered haste, Ellie didn't recognize where she was until she slowed down her pace: she had arrived at the industrialized section of Astoria by the river. The sounds of footsteps had been fading and, figuring that she had managed to put some distance between herself and the gang, she decided to find a place to hide. She looked about her frenetically, but she was surrounded only by chained warehouses and locked facilities. Ellie realized too late that she made a mistake turning into this part of town as she was now trapped in a maze of small factories and buildings.

She stopped suddenly—no longer could she hear the gang running behind her. She spun around, frowning and straining to listen. Her breath became ragged with fear. She heard nothing. Terrifying nothing. Did they give up trying to catch her? Maybe they were sidetracked by someone else, Ellie thought dreadfully. Had they found Francesca? The thought put Ellie over the edge of distress. She raked her hand through her hair, her face twisted into an expression of anguish; she was lost, she had lost, she had lost Francesca, what do I do? What should I do? Moisture welled in her eyes as the cacophony of jumbled uncertainties cried incessantly in her mind. Something snapped inside her, and some form of rationality was able to pull through the clutter, and Ellie decided to go back to Number Nine - she had to know if Francesca made it home.

"You didn't really think you'd get away that easy, did ya?"

Ellie whirled on her heel, shock electrifying every nerve in her body. She hadn't heard them approaching, but she was now met with four scowling girls. Amongst them was Blade, who stood apart and in front. It was she who had spoken to Ellie. Ellie began to back away gradually, trying to put some distance between them and her and to find a way out of the aisle of buildings. But then she heard a soft crunch of gravel from behind, and like a cornered prey, she knew she was surrounded. They moved in on her.

Ellie couldn't move now, couldn't think straight. In a matter of seconds, Blade stood an arm's length away, and Ellie just stood there, dumbstruck. Part of her was ready to surrender - what other choice did she have? The other part - the more stubborn, defiant part that was angry for being caught up in affairs not her own - was calling to fight back, and fishing desperately for a scheme: it was pure survival instinct trying valiantly to take effect. It was times like these when she wished she were as clever as Nancy, as proud as Glenna, and even as tough as Agnes.

Blade fingered the small knife in her hand, chuckling disdainfully. "You got guts, I'll give ya that. But you ain't no hero, and you're gonna pay for gettin' in the way of finishin' off your pals," she said. With an unnerving smile, she added tantalizingly, "Unless ya tell me where they went." Ellie kept tightlipped. "Have it your way," Blade sighed, after waiting a few moments for a response. Then for some reason, she scrutinized Ellie closely, a look of curious interest in her face. "You ain't dressed like a princess. I'm guessin' you ain't that, uh… what's her name?"

"Francesca Richardson," one of her followers supplied.

"That's right… pretty little Francesca Richardson. I'm guessin' you ain't her best friend from the looks of ya. You're a nobody, ain't ya?" She stood inches before Ellie, her voice dropping to an ominous whisper. "You know what we do to nobodies that make the mistake of messin' with us?"

Ellie had been, stupidly, waiting for an answer when Blade shoved her back roughly. Ellie lost her balance and though she didn't fall back, in that short moment of losing stability, Blade's arm, the frightful one wielding the knife, came slashing down. Ellie felt a searing sting on her upper right arm; on impulse, she grabbed at the burning spot and gasped harshly from the pain. Her head was spinning as a haze of white blurred her vision. She wanted nothing more than to lie down until the world stopped whirling. She somehow distinguished shadowy forms moving in towards her. In an act stemming from pure survival instinct, Ellie made an ungainly dash forward, clutching onto her right arm. She felt the brushes of fingertips against her as the girls, caught off guard, unsuccessfully clamored to seize her.

She'd never sprinted so fast in her life. Desperation fueled her. The path ahead of her was blocked off with a fence, but Ellie didn't stop running. She braced herself for the pain as she released her arm. Grimacing, she launched up and grasped onto the fence, rapidly climbing her way to the top. She swung her legs over and, upon seeing the gang only several feet away, she jumped off. Ellie landed limply onto her feet and fell onto her back. She heard voices; they were shouting all sorts of profanities. She lay there for a second, swallowing back hard, and forced herself back onto her feet, staggering up. Putting pressure on her arm, she continued running. Ellie couldn't see—there was no light in this closed off area. She had no idea where she was, surrounded by a conglomeration of metal and machines and large pipes.

She ran until she was unable to withstand the dizzying pain any longer. Cold sweat fell along the planes of her face. Ellie then stopped, searching for a place to hide. Quickly, she crawled into a small crevice between two immense parallel pipelines. And there she lay, curled into a ball, as she finally gave in to the pain that shook up her body and drifted off into unconsciousness. She vaguely heard the rough voices again, but they seemed so unimportant now, so far away.

So far away…

It was still dark.

Ellie had woken up with a violent start, shivering and confused. The feelings of fright and anxiety had returned swiftly, though, hitting her with full force. She had feared that Blade and the others were still nearby, waiting, but after nearly half an hour of silence, Ellie gathered the courage to move. She had struggled out of her hiding place as her entire body was sore and her arm was still throbbing. She supposed that, by the looks of the sky, she had been asleep for only a couple of hours.

She put pressure on her arm. Ellie walked towards Ivy Street now, and though she knew she needed to get to Number Nine before Agnes or the Richardsons woke, her heavy, weary legs refused to move faster than a snail's pace.

As Ellie drew closer to familiar territory, rounding the corner to the Richardson's neighborhood, a blissful sense of unreality washed over her. The events of the past night felt like a strange dream, and when she thought back on everything that happened, all of it seemed so ridiculously absurd that Ellie wanted to laugh. Never had she gotten tangled up in so much trouble in one night—even Ellie, who had obviously been disciplined her fair share by Agnes and the Richardsons, had her limits.

She didn't realize how far away she'd traveled from the Richardson's home. By the time she arrived at their front yard, the sky had lightened a bit; the sun was rising on the horizon, and she was running out of time. She let herself in quietly through the backdoor and pushed her body up the stairs. It was too early for anyone to be up yet. But upon entering the small room she shared with Anne, she saw Anne wide awake and Francesca sitting by the window. Both jumped from their seated positions when they heard the door creak and saw Ellie come in.

Francesca approached her first, stomping towards her purposefully. "Where have you been?" she cried, emphasizing each word.

"Keep it down," Ellie hushed. "Agnes is a light sleeper."

"Ellie, we were so wor—what happened to your shirt!" Anne exclaimed and gently took hold of Ellie's arm. "You're hurt!"

"It's nothing, Anne," she said with a weak smile.

"Nothing? This doesn't look like nothing, Ellie," Anne said anxiously.

"It's nothing," she reassured more firmly.

Ellie strode past the two girls to the closet. Kneeling down, she lugged out an old brown valise from the bottom right corner of the closet and, upon unzipping the bag, began to fill it with her clothes.

She hadn't thought much on this moment or the consequences of it. All she had thought on—all she knew—was that she needed to leave Queens. The boy had warned Ellie and Francesca that Blade would come after them. And judging by Blade's actions last night, the boy's warning was to be taken seriously.

Though Francesca was the one who instigated Blade's fury, it was Ellie who fanned the flame; she had stopped Blade from hurting Francesca and the boy, and then went on to escape her grasp not once, but twice. There had been no doubt in the boy's dark counsel: Blade would come after them. While Francesca had the protection of her home and parents, Ellie had no such safeguard: there was no way she would be able to conceal herself inside the house all day, every day—not with her responsibilities to the Richardson family. If Ellie stayed, she would be putting herself and Francesca at risk.

Maybe she was being paranoid. But she could not get herself to shake off the grave look that had been in the boy's eyes, nor the deadly stare in Blade's.

"Ellie, what's going on?" Anne pleaded. She eyed the valise. "What are you doing?"

Francesca came and clamped her hands over Ellie's, startling her. Francesca started to say something but stopped, as though she didn't really know what to say. She let go quickly. "Where will you go?" she asked softly. Clearly, Francesca, too, had been reflecting on the boy's words.

Looking down uncertainly, Ellie resumed packing. "I don't know," she replied just as quietly, about to toss in an old cotton shirt into her bag. She paused and ripped the shirt apart instead, tearing off a neat strip, and wrapped the cloth around the length of her arm. Though the bleeding had stopped from the pressure she put on it through the night, the wound was still fresh, and she needed to make sure not to aggravate it. Ellie tied the ends tightly. She zipped up the valise and looked apologetically towards Anne, who was confused beyond words.

Ellie struggled to her feet. An awkward silence fell among the trio of girls. "I have to leave before they wake up," Ellie explained. It was clear to all who "they" were – Mr. and Mrs. Richardson and Agnes.

Anne made a move to stop Ellie, but in all her confusion, she second-guessed her action and checked herself. Still trying to figure out the situation, she looked from Ellie to Francesca and back, but she could determine nothing from the two's strange behavior. Francesca stood unmoving, but her face demonstrated an inner debate. And Ellie, feeling the stinging tears threatening to fall, gave a weak nod to both girls and walked out the door. She scuttled down the steps, into the kitchen and out the back. There, standing between the door jambs, she paused briefly, her fingers brushing against the wood and brick of Number Nine.

"Goodbye," Ellie whispered over her shoulder.

She rushed out the backyard onto Ivy Street before she could change her mind.

Author's Note: It's been a long while since I've looked at this story, but I thought it was about time to release the conclusion to Ellie's encounter with Blade. According to my dismal attempt at an outline, Ellie will be bumping—quite literally—into a certain newsboy come Chapter 12. Thank you's to chaoticmom and Adren for your reviews!