A/N: Post-Strike and Pre-Jackrine Wedding

"Davey, you sure you're ok?"

"Les, stop worrying, I'm fine."

"You just escaped the Refuge, Davey, I don't think you're fine. You've heard the stories the other boys have told."

"Les," Davey snapped. His forehead was in his hands with his elbows on his knees. The boys were in their room and Davey had just snuck in through the window from the Refuge. Les hadn't seen his brother be taken away and just figured he'd spent the night at the Lodge when Davey hadn't shown up the night before.

But when Davey had snuck into their room, close to passing out, he knew he hadn't been at the Lodge.

Davey lied down on his bed, his breathing slow and soft. "Davey?" Les asked worriedly. "Les, I'm fine, just tired," Davey said. "Want me to get Jack? He knows what it's like there, he could help ya, Davey," Les suggested.

Davey's closing eyes shot open and he bolted upright (and tried to the hide the clearly visible wince). "Les, no. You can't tell the other boys." "Why? I can see you're hurt, Davey. There's blood on your arm," Les pointed out and Davey looked at his arm. He winced at the memory that came flooding back and shoved it to the back of his mind.

"Les, I'll tell them but not now. Let me handle it," Davey said.

"Boys! You better start heading to the Lodge, the Newsies are going to leave without you!" their mother called from the kitchen. Davey stood shakily and headed for the door. "Davey-."

"Les, I'm fine," Davey said, but instead of sounding firm, he sounded exhausted. Les dropped it.

The brothers had almost made it out the door when their mother stopped them and explained, "Oh and you'll need to stay at the Lodge for a few days. Your father and I are leaving town tonight." Davey wanted to find some excuse for them to not be able to stay, but he couldn't so he just said, "OK. Bye."

They left in silence and slowly made their way to the Newsboys Lodging House. Davey wouldn't admit it, but he'd almost thrown up twice due to pain, exhaustion, and fear. He could feel his kid brother's eyes boring into him so he tried to put on a happy stature for the boy.

They reached the Lodging House and the boys were barely able to dodge a flying boot. Elmer quickly ran after the boot that tumbled down the stairs. "Sorry Dave! Sorry Les!" Romeo shouted. The walked into the bedroom that was filled with bunks and hyperactive newsboys. Les ran off to join Race and Henry's card game and Davey searched for Jack through the crowd.

There! He spotted him talking to Crutchie and Specs. Davey slowly made his way over and when Jack saw him he did a double take. "Whoa Dave, what happened to you?" Jack asked, shocked and worried. "Nothing, I'm fine. Can Les and I stay here for a few days? Our folks are leaving town tonight," he explained.

"'Course! You guys know you're always welcome here," Jack smiled, clapping Davey on the shoulder. Davey winced away from the touch and a pillow just happened to be sent through the air at that moment. The pillow hit Davey in the back of the head.

His heart sped up. Nausea built its way up his throat. His body shook. His breath was caught in his throat. What was happening? He couldn't breath. His heart was going a mile a minute and before he could stop it, the vomit poured out of his mouth. Shouts rang out through the Lodge and someone placed their hand on his shoulder. He pulled away. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees. Davey's vision blurred and his head spun.

"Davey. Hey, you're safe, its ok. No one's gonna hurt ya here. We'se ya family remember? It's ok, you're safe," a voice was saying.

He threw up again and more shouts filled the Lodge. He was back. Back in that wretched building. Back with that horrible, awful, man.

"Davey. Listen, you're ok. Here, breath with me Dave. Breath in through your nose slowly and out through your mouth, ok?"

Davey shook his head weakly. "Can't- can't-." "It's ok, we're just breathing. Breath in, and out. In and out. There ya go, that's it. In and out, in and out."

Davey's vision cleared slowly and his head buzzed noisily. He looked around and saw the boys staring at him with fearful looks and trying to clean up the puke that was stenching the room. "Dave, you're gonna stay here today and rest, ok?" Jack ordered, worried and skeptic. "No, I'm fine," Davey said, trying to stand. But the exhaustion from the panic attack made him nearly fall over again.

Jack and Specs caught him and sat him on one of the bottom bunks. "Sleep," Jack ordered. Davey started to argue until Les appeared next to him. "Rest or I'm telling them," he whispered. Davey saw fear in his brother's eyes and decided he should listen.

After making sure he was actually going to stay put, the boys left. They explained the situation to Kloppmann and the older man promised to keep an eye on the teen. Les knew Jack was going to question him about the panic attack, so he avoided the older boy at all costs, even if it meant selling alone.

"Les you sure? I don't think this is a good idea," Jack said skeptically after Les explained the plan. "Jack, I'm ten now, I think I can sell by myself. Wasn't Romeo ten when you guys left him sell by 'imself?" Les questioned.

Jack knew the kid had a point and sighed. "Fine. But stay away from the Delanceys and holler if you need help, got it?" Les nodded. "Oh and Les-." But he was already off. He decided to sell by the Jacobi's, but couldn't get his brother out of his mind and the panic attack he had had.

What if that happened again? What if it happened while they were home? Les didn't know how to handle that, like Jack had. What if he can't calm Davey down?

Les felt his own breath quickening in fear and beginning racking his brain. Who could he go to with this? Davey had said not to tell the Newsies, but he needed to talk about it. A bell seemed to go off in Les' head as he realized who he could tell. It might be a long shot, but maybe he could go to the King of Brooklyn.

He finished selling his papes as quickly as he could, then ran off to Brooklyn. The sun was beginning to set when he finally reached Brooklyn. He saw two boys, one tall and the other short, walking together and talking. They were both very muscular and had dirt covering their bodies. Both had newsies bags around their bodies and the two roughhoused as they walked back to their Lodging House.

With a sudden burst of courage, Les ran over to them and said, "Hey!" They both stopped and turned, confused. When they saw Les, they smirked and nudged each other. "You'se a Manhattan newsie right?" one of them asked. Les nodded. "What're ya doin' all da way ovah here, kid?" the other asked.

"I need to talk to Spot. Please, it's important," Les pleaded. "If ya are tryin' to plan anothah strike we ain't interested," the first said. "No, it's not a strike. Please, I just need to talk to him about something."

The boys looked at each other. The second shrugged. "What'll it hurt? It's not like he's a threat or nothin', he's a kid." Les took slight offence to that but didn't say anything. They might actually take him to Spot, he wasn't going to start a fight with them. Plus they could both probably kill him in a few minutes.

"Fine," the first one sighed. "What's yer name kid?" the second asked. "Les." He held out his hand to the older boys and they chuckled. "Scab," the first said. "Jesse," the second said. "He's new, we ain't given him a nickname yet," Scab explained after noticing Les' confused expression.

Scab and Jesse led Les to the Lodging House for the Brooklyn newsies. Scab opened the door and they went up the stairs, dodging various boys that were roughhousing, throwing pillows, boots, hats, etc. The went to the top room and knocked.

"Come in."

Jesse opened the door and poked his head in.

"'Ey, Spot. A kid from Manhattan is here and needs to talk to ya. Kid, what's yer name again?"

"Les."

"'Is name is Les."

Spot was quiet for a minute, then announced, "Let him in." Les sighed in relief and Jesse fully opened the door, allowing Les to walk in.

The King of Brooklyn was lounging in a nook by a window, twirling a cigar between his fingers lazily. "Whaddya want, kid?"

Les hesitated. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea. How did he know he could trust Spot? What if he told Jack? "C'mon, kid, I ain't got all day," Spot snapped, making Les jump slightly.

"Um, well, it's my brother. He, um, went to the Refuge last night. I-I don't know what to do cause-cause he doesn't want me to tell Jack, but he-but he had a-had, um, I don't remember what Jack called it. Attack something."

"Panic attack?" Spot asked. It could've been Les' imagination, but it actually look like he had concern on his face. Les nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah that! He had a panic attack and I know the other boys are worried about him. But-but Davey doesn't want me to tell them. Spot, what should I do?" he rambled. The kid was near tears and Spot could see this, so he sent Scab and Jesse away.

He got up from his spot near the window and walked over to Les. Spot was a lot taller than Les remembered and instinctively took a step back.

"Les, has yer bruddah told ya what happened at da Refuge?" Spot asked, Brooklyn accent thick. Les shook his head. "Okay, well, I know it'll upset yer bruddah, but ya need to tell da oddah boys. They'se been to da Refuge, they know how to handle da nightmares and panic attacks. Dey can help, ok?" Spot said knowingly, placing his hand on the younger boy's shoulder.

Les nodded, knowing Spot was right. "Look, it's gettin' late. Go tell Scab I'se said to make sure ya get to Manhattan safely, got it?" Spot crossed his arms over his chest. "Thank you, Spot," Les smiled.

Spot gave the younger boy a half smile and nodded in response, before waving him off. Les left and delivered Scab Spot's orders and the two made their way across the Bridge.

By the time they finally made it back, it was dark. "Thanks, Scab," Les smiled as they stopped in front of the Lodging House. "Course, kid. Stay safe." Scab left and Les walked in.

"There you are, Les! They've been going crazy trying to find you!" Kloppmann greeted when he walked in. Whoops. Les ran up the stairs and found the boys in a chaotic flurry.

"Les!"

Suddenly he was bombarded with questions, scolds, hugs, and slaps upside the head. "Where the heck have you been," Jack asked after making sure he wasn't hurt.

"Long story. Where's Davey?" Les asked, looking around. "He hurt himself somehow so he's in the bathroom cleanin' himself up. Hey what was with that panic attack earlier? He had another on while you'se was gone, mutterin' something about 'him'. Is he ok?" Jack asked.

Les hesitated, before spilling the entire story. By the time he was finished, Davey walked out of the bathroom, feeling like crap. But at least he wasn't bleeding anymore. When he left the bathroom, he was greeted by several angry/worried looks from the boys.

"What?" Davey asked, confused.

"Why didn't you tell us you went to the Refuge?"

Davey sent Les an angry look. "Hey, don't get mad at him, he had the right to tell us. Davey, we don't care how or why you got there. Why didn't you tell us?" Race asked.

"I don't know, I didn't want you guys to worry," he said sheepishly, "I could handle it, it wasn't a big deal."

"It's always a big deal when someone gets back from the Refuge. I can't believe I didn't even realize that's why you were havin' those panic attacks," Crutchie said.

"You wanna talk about it?" Jack asked kindly. Davey shook his head, but as the memories replayed in his mind, tears spilled down his cheeks and he collapsed on the floor. "Hey, it's ok, Dave, we've all been there," Jack said, walking over and sitting in front of him.

The rest of the night, the boys stayed up and made sure Davey was ok. They never found out the reason he was sent, but that wasn't important to them. What was, was making sure he was ok.

"So where'd you run off to anyway, Les?"

"Brooklyn. I needed to talk to someone about this and Davey didn't want me to tell you guys so I talked to Spot."

"What."

A/N: Hey y'all! I hope you enjoyed this cause it was emotionally draining to write! But also really fun because I love Les and all the Brooklyn characters. Anyway, shout-out to Superavenger212 for this idea! Please don't get mad at me if I didn't write the panic attack scene right. My panic attacks a very different from 'anxiety panic attacks' so I had to research how to write it.

I have this thing called Vasovagal Syncope, where whenever I see, hear, or sometimes even write about blood or injuries, I'll faint. I count the moment right before I faint, where I'm kind of freaking out, a panic attack. So I tried my best so please don't get mad at me. As always, please send in your requests and I'll try my best to write them. TTFN!