Oh God. That was hell.

She had done it. Midnight had made her decision, and she told those whom it had concerned. The only thing left for her to do was to tie the loose ends and be on her way.

Reaching the front door, Midnight paused. This was it. This could be the last time she'd ever enter the lodging house doors again. Fully savoring the moment, she inhaled deeply, and went in swiftly and quietly. This was going to be one of the toughest things she'd ever have to do, with the exception of that which she had already done, of course.

"Hello, Kloppman," she said kindly to the old man. Instantaneously, she knew that something was up. The old bookkeeper, who would always make a point of greeting a person when they walked in, was silent. He didn't bother to look up. Even Kloppman knew what she had done.

Lowering her eyes to the floor once again, Midnight continued on her way. She passed through the living room, and found a few people sitting around. Amongst the faces, a few old favorites popped up.

Upon seeing her in the room, Swifty turned bone-chillingly stiff. Midnight watched him as he stood up slowly, giving her so dead of a stare that even a corpse could have trouble imitating it. They stared at each other like that for a few moments, sharing a conversation that required no words, until Swifty broke off and stormed away, into another room. Midnight understood.

I'm dead to him.

Pink rushed over to her quickly from where she was seated, grabbing Midnight's arm. "Don't worry about Swift, he's just-"

"I'm sorry, Pink," she interrupted. The blonde was taken back by this sudden apology, and for a moment, Midnight could see the hurt that flashed across the girl's eyes.

But that moment was gone, and Pink nodded. "We do what we must," she told her, understanding. "Let's go upstairs and get your things."

The two of them started to ascend the stairs, and Midnight could sense eyes following her.

Just as they passed the door that entered into the boy's bunkroom on the second level, a voice sliced through the silent walk and penetrated Midnight's eardrums. "He's not here," Jack pointed out.

Closing her eyes tightly, Midnight tried to hold emotions back. "Thank you for the information," she muttered slowly, choosing her words carefully.

"He stormed through here about twenty minutes ago, grabbing some stuff. He didn't say what happened, but judging from his demeanor, we were able to draw some conclusions." His voice was icy cold, and precisely picked so as to really get to her. She turned slowly to face him. A few of the other boys were behind him, listening.

"Once again, thank you for the-"

"You know, that's some nerve you've got, thinking you can just come in here freely," he continued. "After all, you're not a newsie anymore."

"Jack, just leave her alone," Pink said, defensively. "Let her be."

"I just came to get my things. I'll be gone in a few minutes."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped towards her as he spoke. "You aren't just leaving him, you know. You chose to leave us as well. I hope you do know that," he said, leaning forward into her face.

"Yes, Jack, I've taken that into consideration. Now," she said calmly, trying to stay as level headed as she could, "if you'll let me go, I'll take my things and be on my way."

"No, you don't get it!" he cried. "You're leaving. That means no coming back, gone forever. You're done. For good."

"Jack, it's not like I'm leaving you at the refuge this time!" exclaimed Midnight, pulling out the thing that tied their lives together. "You'll all be fine without me, and you're leading good lives. Just let me live mine the way I chose to, please."

The infamous Jack Kelly backed down, something he wasn't accustomed to. "You know what? You're right. It's your choice." He resumed his position at the door frame, leaning against it and folding his arms across his chest. Many other newsies in the room held similar expressions of distrust. Gin in particular had an especially sour look. "Have a good life, Girl."

Not quite knowing what to do, Midnight continued down the hall and went up into the attic. She left Pink behind her, wanting to be alone.

The attic was luckily empty, and when Midnight walked over to the bed that had belonged to her, she found all her things to be put away for her into her sack. Sitting on top of the bag was a small note, which read:

Packed for you, knew you'd need it. Also threw in my copy of Les Miserables for good measure. Victor Hugo is God.

-Pink

Finding that all the loose ends had been tied for her, and there was nothing left for her to do, Midnight grabbed the sack and exited as fast as she could. So much for sentiment, she just wanted to get the hell out of there. She crawled out the fire escape, choosing to not have to backtrack through the newsies.

Once she reached the ground below, Midnight was met by the man whom she had chosen. She ran to him, feeling his arms surround her and laying her head on his chest. Feeling protected and safe, Midnight knew she had made the right decision.

"Oh god, Andrew," she whispered. "That was so hard."

"Shh," he replied, stroking her hair as she cried softly. "I know."

Now that he was completely sober, it was painfully obvious to her how much he loved her. "I love you, Andrew," she told him.

"I love you too, Midnight."

And suddenly, the warmth she had surrounded herself with was broken. Something didn't fit.

"Andrew?" She took a step away and looked at him in the eye. "Could we not call me 'Midnight' any more?"

He was startled by this request. This was the girl who hated her real name, and normally refused to answer to anything less than her nickname. "Okay, uh… Brittany?" he tried.

"No." She was quick to push that one away. "There's too much associated with both those names. I'm no longer Midnight, and I could never become Brittany again."

"What should you go by then?"

Thinking about it for a moment, she had it. "Call me Ann," she told him.

He smiled, and tested it out a few times. "Ann… Ann Kline. Andrew & Ann Kline. Or," he laughed, "Ann & Andrew, if you prefer."

"That's a lot of ann's," she pointed out, laughing at the ridiculous way their names sounded together.

"But it fits," he insisted. "I like it."

"I do too," she smiled back.

And with that settled, Midnight was laid to rest, and Ann emerged.

End Part Two

Author's Note: Alas, we have reached a two-thirds point! Thank you for sticking through this far, I know that's a lot of chapters. Oh, and please, don't hate me. Just wait.