Author's Note: Only two weeks until I get to move back to Texas for two months. I get to live with my best friend until she gets married and I absolutely can't wait! So I'm doing my best to finish this story before then so I won't have to worry about it. Those two months are going to be crazy, but they'll be worth every second of stress. My goal is to make her a die-hard Newsies fan before the two months are up. :P
Props to the die-hard Newsies fans that reviewed my last chapter: LucyofNarnia, Ealasaid Una, Austra, Rachel, and mysterygirl. Y'all rock!

Chapter 25- Captain Les

Oh, here you are
Down on your knees again
Trying to find air to breathe again
And only surrender will help you now
~Again: Flyleaf~

Al struggled to find air to breath. She felt like all the oxygen was gone and only darkness remained. She tried to tell herself that she needed to leave before Medda found her crumpled up in the darkness, but it didn't work. With each new breath came a new barrage of sobs that shook her entire form, adding a new intensity to her physical pain and only reminding her of how bad the inner pain was.

Snyder had Jack. He had him in the palm of his hand. Would she ever get him back? Would she ever get the chance to see him again? She had tried to see him when he had been imprisoned last time, but no one had even given her the time of day.

Her arms wrapped around her middle as her stomach clenched painfully. If she threw up now, she'd lose the little bit of sustenance her body had gained earlier. She was already exhausted enough without adding retching into the mix.

It's my worst nightmare, Al decided, clenching her eyes shut in a futile attempt to wake herself up. She couldn't wake up, though, because her life had become that nightmare. Her brother had been stolen from her and now she was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

She wanted to give up and die right there.

"Al?" a voice asked, cutting through the darkness. "Oh, Al."

Suddenly, someone was beside her, pulling her into their arms. She recognized the scent of David's clothes the moment she leaned against his chest. He sat cross-legged on the floor beside her and cradled her against himself, cooing softly. She heard the concern in his voice, but could do nothing to allay it. She could only sob harder.

"Shh. Al, you're going to hurt yourself," he tried to soothe. "Everything's going to be okay. We'll work this out. Shh. It'll be alright."

"No," Al responded, hiccupping her tears. "It won't be alright. They took him an' now I've got n-no one. It's h-h-happened. I'm alone. S-snyder, that bastard, Snyder t-took him an' I'll nevah see him again."

"You aren't alone, Alison," he responded, gently pulling her up to where he could cup her face between his hands. "Alison Kelly, look at me," he commanded firmly when she tried to pull away. Something in his voice compelled her to obey and she looked through the darkness and into his eyes. "You are not alone. Ya got me and Skittery and Specs and Sarah and everyone else. You've got all the Manhattan newsies backing you up. And we're going to get Jack back, ya hear me? He'll be back an' you'll have him and all the other boys the bulls got."

Al closed her eyes and let the tears fall again, trying to take the comfort from his words that he had intended to give her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and found herself weeping on his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her middle and let her cry it out.

When she had finally gained control of herself, he looked at her seriously, "Did you get hurt in the fight?"

"Didn't we all?" she asked, sniffing and giving him a sad smile as he helped her onto her feet.

"That's not an answer." She could tell he was giving her a pointed look as he lead her out the back door of the theatre and into the cool night air.

"Just some bruises as far as I can tell. I fell down the stairs, so that'll leave a nice lil' collection o' bruises on my back." She shrugged and cringed at the motion. Her ribs were even more tender than before. Great. "Hey, where're we goin'?"

"My house," David answered as they came out on a dimly lit street. She could hear the newsies a few streets over, making their general ruckus as they headed back to the Lodge.

"Oh, well I'd bettah get goin'." She made to leave, but David caught her by the arm.

"Oh, no you don't," he warned. "You're stayin' at my place. At least for tonight. You're in no condition to sleep on the streets."

She looked at him and saw that arguing was futile. Besides, she wasn't in the mood to have to fend off drunk idiots all night. With a huff, she turned to walk back beside him and he released her arm.

"So that's why you were unconscious? You fell down the stairs?"

"Yeah, some scabbah nabbed me right after they got Jack an' tried to haul me off, but I kicked 'im where it hoits. Unfortunately, I lost my balance and went tumblin' backwards down the stairs."

David cringed out of sympathy. "I got to kick Snyder in the face," he offered after a few moments.

"Really?" Al sniffed again, still trying to fight back the tears. This news made a genuine smile light up her face.

"Yeah, Jack pushed me in that swing Medda had onstage and I kicked him. Right in the face. Both feet."

"You, Davy, are a lucky man," Al chuckled, then fell back into silence.

They reached his house and decided to use the fire escape entrance in order to keep from waking the entire house. David gave her a boost into his bedroom window and he followed shortly after. She looked to her left and found Les tucked into Sarah's bed, fast asleep. Sarah was asleep too, though fully dressed and on top of the blankets. It looked like she had fallen asleep waiting up for them.

"You take the bed. I'll sleep on the floor," David whispered, already pulling a blanket out of the closet.

"Naw, it's your house. I'll take the floor."

"No way. You're the girl; you get the bed."

Al huffed half-heartedly, but felt the haziness of sleep and sorrow clouding her mind. She wanted nothing more right now than to sleep the whole night through. David smirked and plopped onto the ground, unlacing his shoes. Al sat on the edge of the bed and did the same.

"Take the pillow at least." She tossed it at him. He opened his mouth to protest and she cut him off. "I don't use pillows. Stop arguing and go to sleep."

She hefted the covers up over her shoulders and willed herself to sleep. She had hoped sleep would come immediately, but it didn't. Her tears dampened the sheet that caressed her face, but only the occasional sniffle gave her away. She didn't want to wake the other occupants of the room.

Clenching her eyes shut, she tried to imagine all the good times she'd had with her brother in the past few years and refused to think of the bad. It was this that eventually lulled her to sleep.

She didn't stay that way very long.

Normally, Al's nightmares were either entirely memory or entirely imagination. It was rare that the two crossed so blatantly, but tonight was one of those nights.

Al stood in the middle of an empty theatre house. It took her a moment to realize she was at Medda's place. She looked around, wondering where the woman could be.

"Medda?" she called out curiously. She took a few steps forward, feeling the rustle of her heavy skirt as she walked. She looked down and realized she was in a yellow dress with unending frills and puffy sleeves. Her mother loved it when she wore this dress. In all honestly, Al loved it too. It made her feel like a princess. She twirled once and lost her balance.

When she fell, the dress ripped. The tearing sounded like a shotgun blasting off. Suddenly, Jack was at her side.

"Ma's comin', Al! Ya gotta run!" he pulled her up, eyes wide and filled with panic.

They started to run together, but ran into something only seconds later. Al fell on her rear and looked up to see Snyder holding a struggling Jack.

"Leave 'im alone!" Al tried to get up, but couldn't. She couldn't move. Panic welled up inside her.

Snyder laughed and took off his belt. Jack wasn't struggling anymore. He was standing with his hands at his side, clenched into fists, his entire body rigid as he faced her. Snyder stepped back and started whipping Jack with the belt. The buckle whistled through the air each time it struck.

"Help me," Jack sobbed, pleading, his tears falling in steady streams down his face.

Al couldn't respond. She could only scream. Suddenly, the floor opened up beneath her and she fell into darkness, still screaming.

Then her father was standing before her, his dark hair a mess and his eyes wild. The overbearing smell of alcohol was almost suffocating.

"Stop that screaming, girl, or I'll give you something to scream about."

The threat had the opposite of the desired effect. She screamed louder. Finding herself able to move now, she scrambled onto her knees and tried to crawl away, but her father was there in an instant. He kicked her side and her back repeatedly.

"Please don't hurt me, Daddy! Please! I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry!"

"Al! It's a nightmare!"

Al's eyes shot wide open. David was standing over her, arms holding her shoulders down, his eyes only half-open from having been woken in the middle of the night. Acting out of instinct, Al sat up and immediately buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and let her cry like he had earlier that night.

One of his hands stroked her hair as she clutched his shirt like it was her lifeboat.

"Shh. It's okay. It was just a nightmare." David was cooing again in his effort to calm her.

It took her a moment to regain her composure, but she finally pulled away, only then realizing that both Sarah and Les were sitting up in the opposite bed, watching them with both curiosity and a little fear. The latter, she presumed, was from being woken in the middle of the night by what she assumed was her screaming.

"That may have been the cutest moment I have ever witnessed," Sarah said quietly, seemingly talking to no one but herself. Les gave her an odd look and Sarah's cheeks flushed. "I didn't mean to say that out loud," she added bashfully.

"Are you okay?" David asked, directing his attention back to Al, who had moved out of his arms now. He was sitting on the edge of her bed and didn't seem like he was planning to leave.

"Yeah. Just a nightmare," she answered quietly, looking off into the middle distance.

"It must've been real scary," Les said, stifling a yawn.

"Sorry," Al looked at the three in the darkness, their faces barely illuminated by the street lamp out their window. "I didn't mean to wake nobody. Was I loud?"

"A little, yeah. What were you dreaming about?" David asked, studying her face.

"Jack."

"That wasn't all, though. You were mumbling between screams."

Al bit her lower lip, cursing inwardly and wondering how much David heard. "I don't remembah anythin' else."

"You said, 'Please don't hurt me, Daddy.' and then 'I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry.'"

"Don't ring a bell," she lied.

"Where's Jack?" Sarah cut in finally. Al dropped her head into her hands, half out of relief that the attention had been drawn away from her and the rest out of sorrow. God, she missed her brother so much. She couldn't do this without him. "Where is he?"

David stood from the bed and the two left the room wordlessly. Al didn't bother looking up until she heard the pattering of small feet. When she removed her hands from her face, she looked up to find Les standing beside her bed, one arm clutching his pillow like a teddy bear.

"I can't sleep by myself," he said softly, sounding drowsy. Al chuckled softly and lifted up her covers. His face split into a broad smile and he climbed into the bed with her. The nine year old fluffed his pillow and looked up at her as she settled down behind him, her head still supported by her elbow.

"When I have a nightmare, Davy tells me a story to make me feel better. Want me to tell you one?"

Al was touched by the boy's sympathy and couldn't deny him. He started off as soon as she lay down all the way.

"One upon a time, there was this real big ship. It was a pirate ship. But these were good pirates. Captain Les was the captain an' he was the best sword fighter in the whole world."

"I'll bet he was," Al responded sleepily.

"Shh. Don't interrupt," Les said seriously, inciting a soft chuckle from Al that he ignored. "All the pirates listened to everything he told 'em to do. But then these real bad pirates came and they were trying to fight the good pirates. They stole Sarah and Al, some of the best girl pirates in the world. So I- I mean, Captain Les- called David, his first mate, and Cowboy, David's best friend, (Oh, and Runner too!) to help get them back."

"They must have been some really bad pirates if ya needed all those strong boys to save me'n Sarah."

Instead of the stern rebuke she had expected, Les agreed with her. "Yeah, they were real mean. So mean that they tied up you'n Sarah an' put ya in the dungeon. So David, Cowboy, Runner, and Captain Les decided to sneak on board and. . ."

Al fell asleep to the sound of a nine year-old creating his own bedtime story just for her.