So, its been like two years. I'm back to writing, and I've had some time to fall back in love with Fanfiction as a whole and I really enjoyed writing this chapter so hopefully there will be more to come. returning to this story was actually really nice. I can't promise that I'll finish it, or any kind of update schedule, but as long as I'm writing, I'll post. Cheers!

All clear, well at least it was easy to lose those nitwits. They weren't in the best shape for a good chase though.

Turning, I make my way from the end of the alley back over to where Bets is doubled over, hands on her knees, attempting, and failing, to catch her breath. Grinning I ask, "Still alive down there Bets?" Between heaving breaths I hear an answer, "Barely."

She shakes her head as she moves over to the wall and collapses to the ground, placing her face in her hands. I know she hates it when people get hurt, to this day Oscar and I still get an earful every time a newsie so much as gets a scratch. She knows why we do it, but she always makes sure we know just how screwed up it is. Maybe that's why we've gotten along so well for all these years, brutal honesty. Judging from her furrowed brow, the only part of her face presently visible, I can tell she's mentally beating herself up.

"It could be worse ya know." I'm ninety percent sure she's rolling her eyes right now. "It could. We've been in tougher scrapes before, up against even bigger boys, been outnumbered, a couple of times obviously outmatched." I pause with the hope that she'll respond and not continue to bury her head in the sand, metaphorically speaking of course. Is that the right use of metaphorically? I'm pretty sure it is. The World likes to use that phrase, metaphorically speaking, in the editorials a lot. I used to hate that word as a kid, back when we helped print the papers instead of sell them. it showed up too often, and I couldn't pronounce it to save my life.

A quick gasp breaks me out of my thoughts, Bets is staring up at me, but not, well, me. She's focused on something, I think its my mouth. Now why in the world would she-

"You're bleeding!" she jumps up, jostling me out of my thoughts. So that's what that warm feeling must be, blood. Great. After a brief battle of me batting her hands away from my face while telling her to stop and to not worry about it, she shuts me down with a glare and grabs my chin, analyzing what must be a busted lip, at least I hope that's all it is.

"It's not that big of a deal Bets," my words come out garbled as she turns my head to the side with the vice-like grip she currently has on my face.

"Yes it is ya nitwit, it's my fault you got hurt so I'm going to at least make sure you're ok." After a few seconds of examination, she pulls the end of her sleeve over the palm of her hand, and proceeds to completely turn inward, focused on the singular task of gently wiping away the blood and grime on my face. "Now it's not a big deal." Looking up to meet my eyes she continues, "It's not as bad as it looked, just a little busted up."

"Well I could have told you that." Her face immediately drops the prior expression of concern and she purses her lips, if I wasn't injured she may actually have slapped me.

"What time is it?" She asks as she wanders down to the other end of the alley, I glance down at my watch, a gorgeous piece to be sure, according to Oscar, it used to be our dads. "Almost five-thirty," as I reply I hear a low rumbling sound and look up to see Bets with a deadpan face and hand on her stomach. "Want to grab some food?" I ask, while grinning at her. In half a second she's grinning and we both burst into a fit of laughter brought on by the harrowing afternoon. The late afternoon sunshine makes her face glow, shinning bits of gold occasionally peeking out from under her cap. She looks beautiful. Not that I could ever say that to her face without getting punched in the nose.

"Let's go," she turns and starts walking away from the alley, out of the Bowery, back towards the Lodging House. We finally duck into a little hole in the wall cafe, just as a dinner crowd starts to arrive. If it had just been Bets, its doubtful they would have let her sit down, but since I had put myself back together, tie and hat in place, the waiter only gave a confused look before seating us.

Bet's brow furrows as she looks over the menu, no doubt trying to find the cheapest thing available. "Order whatever you want, I'm paying this time. " Her head immediately pops up, "No you're not"

"Yes I am."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"No."

"I just got my paycheck from the World, I don't have to pay for a place to live, and you can't tell me selling is going well with the trolley strike headline."

"Fine. You can pay, but I'm going to pay you back one day alright?"

"I'll be looking forward to that day."

We finish eating and I walk with her to a spot a couple blocks from the theater the newsies like to hang around, I think it's called Medda's. "You sure you'll be alright from here?"

She grins as she looks up at me, "Yeah, I think I can handle it. The alley Jack wants me to meet him is only about a block from here. I'm surprised we didn't see him walking down here. That means you may want to scram before he shows up."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Weisel is probably ready to bash my head in for being out all day anyway." I start to turn away, but something makes me turn back to her, I don't know if it was the fight with the Bowery Boys or the mysterious words my uncle had while trying to track us down this morning, but it felt like something bad was on the way, and all I can think about is making sure she stays safe. That's when I do something I haven't done since we were little, I grab hold of her arm and pull her into a tight hug. To my surprise she doesn't resist. Maybe she has some of the same feelings I do. In that moment I hold onto her like a lifeline and whisper, "Try to keep yourself in one piece alright?" She responds, "You got it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

And then I pull away, and the warmth and comfort that had flooded my body ebbs away. I turn and walk towards to distribution center, towards the small place I live. Hopefully Weisel won't actually kill me for being so late.

I watch as Morris walks away, his shoulders slightly stooped, he always feels too tall, and then head off in my own direction. I don't even manage to walk the block to the alley I'm supposed to be in when I hear footsteps behind me like someone is running. I look back and am greeted with the sight of Jack running full tilt, Davey and Les in tow, towards me. A little further down the street is a man that can only be Snyder the Spider. I pick up my pace and fall in line behind Les and we all duck into an alley, head up a fire-escape, and into the rafters of the one and only Medda's.

We don't get too far before Davey is protesting about the whole situation, and I myself start trying to question Jack, but neither of our queries are answered before Medda is calling us down.

"Ms. Kelly!" Medda is all smiles when she sees me I'm smothered in a hug before she asks, "When are you going to let me dress you up?" I laugh as I answer, "One day Medda, one day when I actually need it." Turning back to face the group the looks of shock on Davey's face is hilarious, but Les is even more funny, and we all end up laughing at the kid who can't keep his eyes off of the costumed performers in front of him. One quick call later, and Medda invites us all to stay for the show while she prepares to take the stage.

Jack wonders off backstage, no doubt to go look at some backdrop, leaving me with Manhattan's two newest newsies. We settle in by the curtain upstage where we get a pretty decent view of the stage. Les is completely lost in the show, but Davey eventually turns back to me. "So, you're a sister, not a brother." What a conclusion, and I thought kids that went to school were supposed to be smart.

"Yeah, I guess you woulda found out eventually, but I am, in fact, a girl."

"Isn't that-" I cut him off, "A bit odd?" I chuckle, and he grins back. "Well, its certainly an unusual situation, but I don't think its completely unheard of. I know of a couple of girls in some of the other districts. We're few and far between, but we do exist."

"So you just wear boy's clothes and make sure you keep your hat on?"

"Pretty much. Unfortunately, the guy that was chasing us, Snyder, knows I'm a girl, meaning if he gets ahold of me, things will inevitably be much worse for me than the boys in the refuge, but I've got to do something to make some money to live, and selling papes, while it means I'm always out in the open on the streets, is a better alternative than most other occupations left open for young girls with no money."

"Well I'll have to agree with you on that one. If your Jack's sister though, does that mean you were in the refuge too?"

"Yeah, it was rough. We ended up there after we lost both of our parents. I barely remember it, and Jack doesn't talk about it much. That place is something else." He can hear my voice drop and looks up to meet my eyes. "No matter what you do Davey, make sure your brother doesn't end up in that place. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

A silence falls between us then. He seems like a pretty nice kid, definitely didn't grow up on the street though, that's for sure. I eventually decide to break the silence, "You got any family around Davey?"

He immediately perked up, "Yeah, we do. My mom is amazing, and she cooks better than anyone else I know. My dad used to work in a factory until his arm got mangled and they laid him off. That's why Les and I are out here working."

"Well you couldn't have found a better selling partner than Jack for your first day on the job." That comment earns me a laugh and he responds, "He certainly is a character. He seems like he's a pretty good guy, even though he is apparently a wanted criminal."

"Oh that little detail is what makes you hesitate. He got caught stealing food and clothes for kids stuck in the refuge." I shake my head as I continue, "I told him to wait a minute before trying to get another loaf of bread but the boy didn't listen to me."

"So he's a regular Robin Hood then."

"Well I guess you could look at it that way, but he doesn't have quite as good of a track record, but I think he has more people giving him trouble."

"Speaking of that, I've been meaning to ask Jack, and I never got around to it, the guys who were working the newsstand this morning, they seemed ready to jump me right there, what do they do?"

I can feel my heart speed up as this touchy subject comes up, of course he doesn't know its an issue. Actually, no one here knows its an issue.

"Those would be the Delancey brothers. They work for the World at the distribution center and are supposed to patrol the streets and make sure the newsies stay in line and keep working. Unfortunately that sometimes means they're expected to beat up some kids." I can tell he already is starting to hate them. "If you tell Jack I said this it'll be your head, but its not something they enjoy or want to do, they aren't given an option in what they want to do with their lives. Just avoid them, keep out of their way, and everyone'll be happy."

"That sounds fair enough I guess, so I guess the old guy is the boss then. Is he their dad or something?"

I resist the urge to laugh, "No, he's technically their guardian I guess, though he doesn't do much of anything for them. He's their uncle, they lost their parents when they were young." Morris and Oscar probably wouldn't appreciate me spouting off their life story, but if it might get someone a little more on their side, it can't hurt.

"So you seem to know a good bit about them?"

Thankfully the curtain had already risen, darkening the area of the theatre we were in, so he couldn't see the worried look on my face. The first strains of music started on stage, and we had to quiet down to watch the show, so I whispered, "I find it best to learn as much as I can about a person before I make any judgment on them."

"That sounds like a good motto to live by," is all Davey said as he sat down for the show.

Per usual, Medda was stunning on stage. The entire audience was absolutely captivated, and no joke or wink went by without the appropriate amount of laughter or applause.

I always enjoy coming to Medda's. She is one of the few people that genuinely treats us newsies as fellow people, with compassion. I can't say I haven't thought about taking her up on the offer to "dress me up." I always do have to wonder what it would be like to not live on the street, and have a job like the girls do here. Sure some of it is gimmicky, but every now then, there's a girl dressed in a gorgeous satin gown that might take the stage and hush the crowd, supporting herself with a beautiful voice, and living like a normal person does. I don't even know if I ever have worn a dress, if so, I don't remember. It seems like such an alien world, but a world I would love to be a part of. Singing for a career is another thing that I've found intriguing. The ability to command a room with nothing but your voice. That's not something random street rats like me stumble into though. Singing is something that I may do around the streets when I don't think anyone's listening, but I hardly think I could do it on a stage. Certainly not as well as some of these girls do.

Of course there are a million things I would love to have. Proper schooling, a career, all of these things have one particular thing in common. Each thing is something I don't think I'm likely to achieve, not without some wonderful benefactor steeping in for me, which I don't see happening anytime soon. Big dreams, nothing important. Then there's Morris. He actually has a chance to do something, but he's stuck in Weisel's iron grip, and can't seem to break out.

Just then, a shift in the music breaks me out of my reverie, the strain of one of the standard numbers, "Just Come a Knockin' on my Door." The crowd relaxes into a little bit more whispered conversation at this point, allowing Davey to get in another word.

"This is a really nice little place you two seem to have found yourself." His tone implies a question.

"Medda is one of the few people that will actually help out newsies when we get in a pinch. If you ever need anything, come here. Medda will take care of you and your brother, she's watched over Jack and I as much as she could for years now. I know it's not exactly the kind of place you'd think a bunch of street-raised orphans would be welcome, but Medda has a big heart."

"That's something that seems to be pretty rare these days," Davey actually relaxes a little bit and leans back, a thoughtful look on his face. "Between you and me, I think that's probably a trait you share with her."

This kid is pretty smart then. "Well, I guess you could say that. I always try my best to help folks however I can. Of course, there isn't much I really can do, not when I make pennies a day."

"I don't mean it like that." Now its my turn to give Davey a funny look. "What I mean to say," he continued, "is that you seem to try and make yourself open to people. You welcomed my brother and I into this paper selling thing without a second glance, and, from how you talk about those brothers, I have to assume you've tried to be open to them too, even though they are almost in opposition to the newsies."

"I try, everyone deserves a decent enough chance you know?"

Davey just nods as some kind of commotion in the audience draws both of our attentions with a chorus of shushing.

It only takes another minute and the set is over. "We should probably figure out what happened to Jack," I say as I get to my feet, giving Davey a hand to help him up as well. Before we can actually begin our search though, Jack has found us, with a dazed look in his eye. He barely says anything beyond, "let's move," before he leads us out onto the balcony of the building and down the ladder. When we make it to the ground I turn to Jack, "You okay Jack?"

He shakes his head, almost like he's finally coming back down to Earth. "Well boys, I hope your first day as official newsies has been enlightening."

"Well, its certainly something different," Davey is not quite as enthusiastic as Les who jumps into the conversation with, "You're awesome Jack!"

"Well I'm glad I could get you on a little adventure today kid," Jack says as he musses up Les's hair, "but I think both your brother and I," he gives a meaningful look to Davey, "would both prefer it if we avoid run-ins like that for now. You two gotta get on home now right?"

Home? That must be nice, makes sense though, Davey and Les don't give off the smallest impression of being street kids, though I think we can get that little bit of attitude into them no problem.

"Yeah Jack, our Ma's probably gonna have our heads for getting back as late as it is," at this Davey extends his hand to Jack, sans spit, and they shake, "thank you for all the help today."

"It was my pleasure!" We turn to go our own ways and I throw in, "it was nice meeting you both, see you bright and early!"

On the walk back to the lodging house, Jack is unusually quiet, with a far-off look in his eye. "Are you all there Jack? One of the dancers catch your eye or something?" I ask with a grin.

"A reporter actually." Huh, I wasn't expecting that to actually be the cause of this mood. Its not rare for someone to catch Jack's eye, but he's never gotten like this.

"So did this reporter actually give you the time of day?"

"Begrudgingly, I think. She shot me down a couple times, but I finally got her to talk to me, and then I left her a little gift."

"And what might that have been?"

"Just a sketch, but maybe then she'll remember something about the random paper boy that broke into her box. She seemed like something special, headstrong, she didn't like it when I started questioning her uh, authenticity as a reporter."

"Sounds like we'd get along then," I can't help but laugh. "Someone needs to put you in your place every now and then." At that he laughs too, and we make our way back to the lodging house as I continue to rib him about this new crush of his.

By the time I finally make it back to the house the sun is just starting to set, and I can tell by the sound spilling from the downstairs window that Weisel has a whole crew over. Normally they would have already moved to a local bar. Well, there must be something going on then. I quicken my pace to try and myself a little bit less late for what I'm assuming is a meeting of some sort.

Slipping into the house via back door I take in the scene in front of me. Weisel is seated at the table next to Snyder and another fellow with an odd scar on his right cheek that I don't recognize. A handful of Snyder's goons fill in the rest of the space in the room, Charles and Edgar among them. Oscar is leaning up against the wall to my right so I move to join him. As I settle in, before I can ask Oscar what's going on, Weisel makes the comment, "Glad you could finally join us boy, I'll let your brother catch you up on what you missed earlier."

"As I was saying," the unknown man continued, "with the price change we can expect some trouble, so we need to be ready to make sure any big ideas of resistance get put back into the dirt."

"I'll make sure I have as many of my boys on call as possible," Snyder paused as he thought, "I think we may want to set up shop away from the distribution center. Let them think they have some kind of upper hand, and then move in and deal with them when they aren't expecting us."

Weisel grinned in agreement, "that would certainly maximize our chances of getting some of the troublemakers off the streets."

The unnamed man leaned forward in his chair, "However you two want to deal with the newsies is your business, just make sure you don't take so many of them off to the refuge that there aren't any left to distribute the papers."

"Oh don't worry Lawrence, you'll get your cut from the World and from me," well at least I know this fellow's name now, and apparently he's getting money out of whatever they are planning.

"You and your two boys keep alert in the morning," Snyder was speaking to Weisel now, "And the second there's any trouble, you come get us, leave your two behind to try and slow them down," he laughed as he said the last bit, as if Oscar and I could do much against an entire group of angry newsies. "First priority however," Snyder continued, "will be getting ahold of the Kelly brats. If anything goes down, they can be counted on the be the ones to start it, and we will be ready for them. Its been too long since I had those two under control."

Snyder sat and thought for a moment before he turned his head towards Oscar and I, "you two wouldn't mind being tasked with the older Kelly would you? You know him a bit better than my boys do." Oscar speaks up before I do, "we can handle Kelly if need be."

"Good, good. Charles and Edgar, you two are in charge of tracking down the younger one. Even if those two mess something up," he nods towards my brother and I, "you two get ahold of the younger sibling and Jack will be doing anything we tell him to." At that both of the two goons in question grunt in assent, and I can't help but notice a disturbing grin in place on their faces, and I don't think I like it. Whatever the hell is going on, its not going to be good for the newsies, and its not going to be good for Bets. I can't sit around and let her get hurt in all this. Maybe I can sneak out and head over to the lodging house. Sure they might try to soak me on site, but maybe I can try a window or something, get in touch with Specs or Albert, I know the two of them don't totally trust us, not that I can blame them, but they care about Bets too.

"I'm pretty sure we're all set to go then. Now that business is handled, how about we settle in for a game of cards." Nods of assent are seen all around the room and a tension I didn't notice was there relaxes.

A sudden pressure on my foot makes me turn towards Oscar, "what?"

With an exasperated look Oscar whispers to me, "Try not to paste everything you think on face Mo, let's go talk upstairs." Yeah okay, I should probably work on my poker face. As we make our way away from the table and towards the stairs Lawrence shouts out, "leaving the party so early?"

Oscar turns to answer him with something about needing a good nights rest if we're gonna be busting heads in the morning, while I walk on out. As I walk by, Edgar catches my arm, whispering, "Between you and me, that little girlfriend of yours is going to be fun to have in the refuge." Oh god.

I yank my arm out of his grip and head upstairs, Oscar behind me. The door to our room is barely closed when everything I'm thinking spills out. "Oscar, we can't let them do this, did you hear what Edgar said to me? It doesn't matter that we gave them the slip this morning, somehow they know. Damn, did you hear what he said to me? We can't let Bets get involved with whatever is going down, we have to warn her, I can sneak over there tonight or someth-"

"Morris! Keep your voice down! Are you crazy? There is no way we can get out of here tonight, not with this many people in the house, and especially not if they know. If they know, then we are going to be on extra close watch. We'll have to find some way to let her know in the morning."

"But Osc-!"

"No, Morris, we can't."

"We have to!"

"We will, we just can't help right now, any heads up would give us away immediately, and the second they know we aren't totally on their side, you know what happens. If that happens, neither of us will be any good to anyone, much less be able to help Bets. The best we can do is wait, warn her in the morning, and be ready to jump in if anything happens."

"Fine, but what Edgar said."

"I know, I heard him to Mo. We aren't going to let anything like that happen, no matter what. If we get caught in the crossfire at that point, so be it, but we won't let that happen to Bets."

We fall quiet for a moment. "Fill me in on everything I missed." Oscar looks up, surprised at my hard tone, I guess I'm a little surprised myself, but right now the only thing that matters is making sure Bets doesn't get hurt.

Oscar gives me all the details on the price hike, the expected outrage, and the plan to cut off any kind of leadership the newsies may form. The Lawrence guy actually works for the World, something to do with security, but his job description sounds more like the mob. There's no way we can let Bets get involved. The moment she does, she becomes a central target. The issue is, how to do that without getting hell rained down on us by Weisel and Snyder. We try to brainstorm how to get word to her in the morning, but there are too many factors. Eventually we settle on me trying to get her to meet me outside, even though we'll run the risk of getting spotted. Then we both agree to try and get some rest.

The last thing I think of before I drift off to a restless sleep is Weisel. If he catches us helping a newsies on the day of their big bust, it might be like when we were kids again, except I don't know if I'd be able to walk again after the fact. If it comes down to it though, I know what choice I'll make. They can beat the hell out of me all they want, if it means Elisabeth gets out.