It's the chapter you've all been waiting for! Ah, don't kid me. Of course you have.

Review Responses:

Huffelpufdraws: Albert thinks killing isn't far enough, actually. HECK YEAH (inconvenient) JENRY! Go ahead, throw hands, I'm right with ya. MWAHAHAHA BE IN PAIN WE HAVEN'T EVEN REACHED THE WORST YET! Yeah, Race is... not being a cool dude right now. Luckily, Albert's there to tell him so. The strike? Oh yeah, it'll get better. Totally. Let's say that. ALL HAIL ALBERT AND SPECS! THANK YOU!

Dylan Quagmir: Midterms suck. Spromeo tried to have one nice evening and that resulted in blowing up the world. Well done, Spromeo. Jenry is still going strong, love that for them. I do generally recommend reviewing right away, but kudos for finally getting here. Life happens. (I hope everything's okay.) Homework is done, I'm learning my math, my snake rattles, all the good stuff. You wouldn't be Dylan without procrastination, now would you?

Guys. This is not a drill.

It's really happening.

I'm so excited to share this chapter with y'all; it's gone through so many revisions, I doubted I'd ever be able to add it.

But here it is.

Never thought we'd get this far, did you?

Okay, wait. I'm talking as if this is the end.

I assure you, it is not.

In fact, it's a beginning...

Chapter 68- Smalls

Tuesday, September 21, 1999, 6:12 p.m.

Duane Street was the only place for Smalls to go. She didn't want to go to an empty apartment, Jacobi would be annoyed if she showed her face at the diner, and there were no other options available. Plus, stopping by the group home meant potential to see Jack.

Smalls needed answers. Why had he ruined the rally like that? How dare he destroy her crowning achievement! When one's ex-girlfriend led the Bronx, it was incredibly hard to get anyone from that borough to listen, and yet Smalls had convinced them to attend the rally. Against all odds, she'd done it. By herself.

And then Jack had come and thrown all that away.

If that was the way it was going to be, Smalls was getting him back. She'd followed the fellas to the group home, got directions to Jack's "penthouse", and stormed up there as soon as her mission was figured out.

Immediately, she noticed the sleeping bag that must have been Jack's. Pieces of paper with parts of scribbled sketches were scattered around and on top of it, along with drawing utensils of all sizes and colors. A small paint set lay off to the side, open and dried out. Clearly, the captain hadn't been around for several days.

Smalls' intention had been to destroy his artwork, but as that was already done, she gathered the scraps. Maybe she'd dump them all off the rooftop.

Instead, she found herself too intrigued by the drawings to dispose of them. Smalls tried to piece together the torn pages as best she could, laying them flat on the ground and praying a breeze wouldn't come to ruin it. After getting enough pieces to see the full image, Smalls collected them back into a stack, shoving them into her pocket for later.

As she was finishing up, she heard heavy footsteps on the fire escape. Wanting to act inconspicuous, she dashed over to the wall and hopped to a seat, legs dangling off the inside edge.

It was Jack who emerged on the roof, his eyes immediately meeting Smalls'. "What're ya doin' up here?"

"Specs showed me," she explained matter-of-factly.

"Typical."

"That was some speech you made."

Jack didn't bother responding. He knelt to grab his sleeping bag, then held it out and shook everything off before starting to roll it into a cylinder.

"So what's da big idea here? Wit you leavin'? What d'you expect ta find out west?"

"Racer can tell ya. I ain't explainin' all this again."

"Gimme an answer, Captain."

Jack groaned. "Maybe there's some people for me in Santa Fe. Someone who knew my granddad, knew my dad as a kid. That good enough for ya?"

Now Smalls had even more questions. "Since when do you need a person like that?"

"Since everyone in this city stopped havin' my back."

"We've got yer back," she told him, ticked off by the notion. "Maybe if you'd take a breath and stop stabbin' ours-"

"Just once I want someone I can call my own that's blood, alright? Someone who can make da name Francis Sullivan stop soundin' like da worst thing in the world."

"That ain't yer name. You hate that name." These simple, clipped sentences were the only thing keeping Smalls' voice level. "You're Jack Kelly. The captain. My captain."

"Quit actin' like you care!" he snapped, "You ain't here ta help me any more than anybody else is!"

"Bullshit!" she barely managed to check herself before going on. "No matter what, you's always gonna have me an' Race. We's here fer you."

"Are you? 'Cause last time I left youse alone ya couldn't handle it, 'specially you."

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud-" Smalls sprung off the wall. "I AM FIFTEEN! FIFTEEN! Do you realize that? You treat us like we're these mature adults, but we're not, an' neither are you! We're all just kids! Kids, Jack! What we've been through can't actually take that away. This is the time we're s'posed ta get life figured out, and it's okay if that don't happen immediately! All of us are tryin' ta make things work and just like you, we're struggling. But we can get through it! We're newsies, an' newsies stick togetha', even with disagreements. You's made mistakes, an' people are mad, I know, but it ain't gonna help nothin' if you just up and leave."

Jack had stayed silent, letting her go through the whole spiel. Every so often his lips tightened, like he was fighting an urge to say something. He let it win at Smalls' last sentence. "Ain't gonna help if I stick around, neither."

"It'll help me!" Smalls protested, uncomfortably aware of her vision starting to grow watery. "If nothin' else, it'll help me."

Jack swallowed. "I don't care much 'bout helpin' you." That was what he actually said. But to Smalls, it sounded like, "I don't care about you." And that stung like hell.

"But you's my brother!" she cried, not giving a shit about how her voice leapt up to its highest pitch. "You called us family! You said I was yer sista'!"

"We ain't related," said Jack, his blue eyes cold. "You people aren't my family."

"But- but you always meant it when ya said it before! You said you meant it!"

"I dunno what else to tell ya."

He was staying chill while Smalls lost her cool, and that just burned her up more. The tears had started, but she tried to remain strong despite them, making her voice firmer with the next words. "Guess I should a' known betta', huh? Da people I love always seem ta betray me. My parents, Sniper, you, none a' that was eva' real, was it?"

Jack's tough exterior cracked for a moment. "What did you just say?"

"I said I love you, Jack Kelly!"

"Not… romantically, right?"

"No, you asshole! I wanted you ta be my brother! For real! My foster parents may not give a damn, but I figured they'd agree to adopt ya if I begged!" Smalls swiped at her eyes. "I let you into my life. I let you care about me, an' I let my guard down. There ain't many people I do that for. You's so lucky to be one a' them, an' I thought you felt da same about me. I thought you actually cared." The more she ran through it in her head, the angrier Smalls became. "But you were just usin' me, weren't you. This whole time, that's all it was! I gave you a place ta crash, an' you told me what I wanted ta hear, an' now yer laughin'! You think it's so funny, da way yer plan worked! Now ya get ta watch me make a fool a' myself before ya go." At her sides, Smalls' hands balled into fists.

This Jack noticed, since he was looking down to avoid her eyes. "You 'bout ta hit me or somethin'?"

"If I did, wouldja fight back?"

"I ain't hittin' no girl."

Smalls took a step forward. "I'm as much." Three more steps. "A boy." Two more. "As any one a' youse." One. Inches remained between her and Jack. She glared up into his eyes, which still would not meet hers.

"Prove it, then. Hit me."

"I will!" Smalls threw a fist up as high as she could, hating that she had to stand on tiptoe to reach just under Jack's chin.

"You don't got da nerve."

"Diss me again an' the next time you look at me, it'll be through one swollen eye!"

"Go on!" Jack taunted, pulling her fist closer so it touched his jaw. "Gimme yer best shot!"

Shaking, Smalls held the position, preparing to pull back and strike. One second, two, then three... and she went back on her heels, arm falling limp. She wasn't about to hit her brother.

He sneered, expression triumphant as she folded. "Just like I thought, you'd never-"

SMACK!

Something inside Smalls snapped. For a split second, she blacked out, unable to register the move she'd made.

"What the hell?!" Jack screamed, both hands flying to his nose. He was bent half over, no doubt from the pain. "What was that about?!"

"You asked for it," Smalls pointed out, clutching the hand with which she'd thrown the punch as it pulsed dully.

Jack straightened up. When he pulled his hands away from his nose, Smalls was able to see the crimson that covered them, and the rest of the blood slowly spreading farther down his face. "I didn't think you'd actually hit me, jeez!"

Smalls took a step back, watching Jack pinch the bridge of his nose. "Then maybe ya shouldn't test me."

"That's yer apology?"

"I got nothin' ta 'pologize for."

With that, Smalls bolted, fully aware Jack would start following within seconds. She couldn't yet hear his feet thundering down the fire escape behind her, however, she ducked through the window into the hall past Kloppmann's apartment, and stood, waiting. But he didn't come to comfort her, or talk things over, or anything. Almost ten minutes of anticipation, and nothing. She wasn't really sure what she'd expected.

Not wanting anyone else to find her upset and alone, she sped downstairs as fast as possible, only slipping a couple times before getting out the door. Her breathing was rapid now; sprinting down several floors hadn't helped that at all. Smalls didn't bother trying to steady herself for long before picking up speed again. Down the street she went, past buildings, dodging pedestrians, until arriving at her destination a few blocks later: Jacobi's.

Thing was, she wasn't the only girl getting ready to pound on the restaurant door.

"Sniper? What're you doin' here?"

"I should ask you da same question."

When Sniper turned, Smalls found herself whispering, "Holy-" at the full sight of her face. Half of it was cut like someone had taken a piece of glass and slashed the older girl open. "The hell happened ta you?"

"What, this?" asked Sniper, the definition of nonchalant. "Hit the car window, that's all."

Smalls scrunched her face together. "Who was driving?"

"My father," she said, not at all bothered, before rapping sharply on the Jacobi's door. "Open up!"

Within the deli, a light flicked on, and several locks were undone from the door. Behind it, to Smalls' displeasure, was Finch's face. As he noticed Sniper, his expression switched from annoyance, to relief, and finally to concern in the span of ten seconds. Next second, he'd thrown his arms around his best friend, pulling her to him in an aggressive hug. Then he pushed her away.

"Took yer sweet time gettin' 'ere, didn'tcha?"

Sniper shrugged. "But I came, didn't I? Promised I would."

"Yeah, well, I'm neva' lettin' you outta my sight again." Finch hugged her once more, then released, cupping a hand around the non-injured side of her face. "Still wish ya hadn't gone back."

"I handled it," Sniper slapped his arm away. "Stop worryin'."

"He gonna come lookin' fer ya?"

"Not for a while, hopefully. Depends when 'e wakes up." Sniper patted the slingshot sticking out of her front pocket.

"...What'd ya do?"

"Took a stand. Knocked him out."

"You what?"

"He hit me, I hit 'im back."

She'd stood up to her father. Smalls had never felt more proud. "Go you!" she exclaimed, applauding a little.

Both Sniper and Finch whipped around, giving her their collective attention. Finch shot her an angry look, while Sniper's face went slightly slack. Both expressions made it all too clear that Smalls wasn't helping.

Her clapping died out. "You showed yer dad who's boss... woo..."

"Believe me, I tried," Sniper told her, "knockin' 'im out was as far as I got. I thought about- when he was lyin' there- I wanted ta do more. I almost did, but… I couldn't."

"Good," said Finch. "That was enough. He don't need more reason ta be enraged wit you when 'e comes 'round."

She shook her head. "I should a' killed him."

"Snipes-" Finch reached for her shoulder, but she shrugged him off.

"I should a'! It would a' been so easy! I should a' taken a hammer or somethin' and… and all my problems would be fixed."

"Don' say shit like that, you ain't that kind a' person."

"Yeah? I am accordin' ta him! He said I could a' killed Oscar Delancey wit what I did! He said I'm a monster, an' a disgrace, an' my own mother would be ashamed a' me!" Sniper was hysterical, voice getting more shrill with every word. "An' I didn't wanna hear- I don't wanna hear it anymore! I don't care if I would a' been provin' him right, if that was what it took ta just end everythin', I should a'-"

"Since when does what he says dictate who you are?" Smalls would've loved to have a chat with Mr. Wah, or better yet, pummel him to a pulp, and hoped her interruption got this across.

Naturally, as soon as she spoke, Finch got on the defensive. "Who said you should stick yer nose in otha' people's-"

"Who said I was talkin' ta you?" Smalls refocused on Sniper. "I get bein' influenced by yer family's opinion, but he hardly qualifies."

"Exactly!" Sniper said, seemingly relieved somebody agreed. "I'm sick a' carin' what he thinks, an' I wanted him ta shut up."

Well. Um. That sounded familiar. "That makes sense."

"He's such an asshole, an' just once I had ta make 'im ta feel the same pain I did!"

As he heard this phrase, Finch's face faded into an odd disbelief Smalls had never seen before, head doing the tiniest side-to-side shake, lips barely parted and wobbling like something in him had finally cracked. He opened his mouth wide, let the tiniest- disappointed?- sigh escape, and shut it quickly. Crossing his arms, he finally said in a pointed tone, "So ya sunk ta his level."

"He deserved it."

"Yeah, I know." Then, less sharp, "Yer bleeding."

Sniper touched her cut, which in fact was trickling blood. Her hand came away slightly red. "Oops."

"I'm gonna..." Finch thumbed at the rooms behind them. "I'll getcha somethin' for it."

"Finch-"

"I'll be back, okay?" Off he went, half-sprinting from the dining room.

For a moment, Sniper stood, watching her best friend disappear. Then a look of horror crept onto her face and she sunk into a chair, dropped her head towards her knees, and pressed a hand onto each eye as if there were a bright light she was blocking out. Her heels raised up from the floor, causing her legs to shake her entire body.

Slowly, Smalls approached her. "Snipes?"

Her feet lowered, and the shaking stopped. Sniper let out a shuddering breath, loud enough for Smalls to hear. In. Out. In. Out. After a second, she whispered, "Do you think I'm a monster?"

"No," said Smalls, truthfully. "You did what you had ta do. I'm sure yer father- he won't hold it against you too much." Bull. Complete and utter bull.

"What if I'm like this forever now? What if I start hurting people who don't deserve it? What if I become-"

"You won't. You'll neva' turn into him."

Sniper raised her head, hair frazzled, strewn in wisps around her face. "I'm halfway there as it is."

"Tha's different, what you did. Self defense. You wouldn't a' done it otherwise. You're nothin' like him."

"You say that like yer sure."

"Well, I can't be sure, but... you feel awful about it, right? So that's gotta count for somethin'..." Smalls chewed the inside of her bottom lip. "If I'm wrong, then it means I've become Snyder."

"What?"

"I saw Jack after the rally," Smalls explained, cursing herself as she heard how tiny her voice was. "And uh… I punched him. Right in the nose." She attempted a laugh, but it didn't come through in time to stop the worry spreading over Sniper's face. "I didn't mean ta hurt 'im, I swear, but he was bein' an asshole- I mean, he literally asked for it- an' I just- I just wanted him ta be quiet…"

Sniper jumped up, walked rapidly across the room. Immediately, she spotted Smalls' bruised hand and took it in her own. "Are you okay?"

Though touched by the sympathy, Smalls pulled away, putting space between herself and the older girl. "Guess this is how a queen silences her subjects, huh? Brute force."

"Jack will forgive you. I've seen how he cares for ya."

She disagreed, "I'm not sure any a' that was real."

"C'mon."

"He lied. Said he loved me like his sister, but now he's taken it back, 'cause he's leavin' and neva' wants ta see us again."

"Maybe he didn't really mean it?"

"Nah. He's always been like this. Run away, hit the road, don't commit. Piece a' shit won't take nothin' from nobody. Can't get attached, 'cause god forbid his escape clause stops working-"

Sniper broke in, "D'you think he'd be so defensive if he didn't care?"

"Fat chance."

"Look, I know nothin' 'bout the situation, but wit everythin' lately… I think I know how he feels. When you care for someone, I mean, care so much you're scared admittin' it to 'em will make 'em go away? That messes with yer head. It makes you do things…" Sniper glanced absently in the direction Finch had disappeared. "You think yer doin' right, but really… you make everythin' worse."

Suddenly, it clicked. "Oh, crap."

"You get it."

"Am I a Jack clone?" Smalls wondered, "Is that what I am? Has that jerk rubbed off on me that much?"

"A clone and a monster," mused Sniper, "Seems fitting."

"You're not-'' Losing focus, she looked over the other girl's face, eyes tracing the now dried cut to its source, somewhere behind the dark hairline. "This is my fault."

"It isn't."

"If I hadn't toldja to-"

"Stop. He would a' blown up at me eventually. Happens a lot. I'm used to it." She frowned. "Maybe a little too used to it."

"Snipes… I'm so sorry. I can't believe how much of a dumbass I been."

"You ain't da only one."

"No, but you were only tryin' ta help, I was just too angry ta see it. I shouldn't a' taken my problems out on you."

Sniper nodded, letting her continue.

"I couldn't stand the idea of you not lovin' me, but when ya said you actually did, for some reason-"

"It was unbelievable. I understand. I wasn't sure 'bout what I felt either. Hell, I still barely know who I am."

"Ya don't hafta be anyone ya don't want to. I mean it. Ya don't gotta be some kind a' epic warrior who fights anyone who wrongs her."

"I figured da Queen a' the Bronx wanted a strong defender."

"No..." Smalls groaned. "I shouldn't a' told you ta be that. I ain't that strong myself, not fair ta ask it of you. If you keep on like this, you could get yerself killed."

"Haven't died yet."

"Sniper."

"Smalls."

"I love you, and I don't want nothin' happenin' to ya. Promise me you'll stop bein' stupid an' tryin' ta prove yerself, alright? No matter what I say."

Sniper's lips twitched like she was trying to hold back a smile. "Alright, I promise," she said, and it broke through. "S'long as you don't try ta come at me when I tell the truth 'bout how I feel."

"Neva' again."

"And, I know you kinda already said it, but you don't get ta tell me how ta face my father. 'Specially bein' someone who understands how hard it is, livin' like I do."

"Trust me, I learned my lesson."

"You betta' have."

They were both quiet, looking at one another, until Smalls sighed. "I wish we could start over. Pretend none a' this eva' went down and go back to barely knowing each other."

"Why wouldja want that?"

"So I could stop myself from bein' a complete idiot."

"Ah."

"You sayin' there's nothin' you regret?"

"Are you kidding? Of course there is. But I wouldn't wanna go back, personally."

"Not even to fix those mistakes?"

Sniper shrugged. "There's no use worryin' about what I can't change."

"But say it made your future better-"

"So what? Going back would mean havin' ta redo everythin' an' wait even longer ta reach where I wanna be."

"What part a' this is somewhere you wanna be?"

Sniper answered by scooping Smalls' face in her hands, and pressing her lips to the other girl's. She had to bend a little to make it work, which didn't seem comfortable, so Smalls positioned herself on tiptoe to help out.

Kissing Sniper didn't exactly ignite the feelings Smalls had dreamed about. No fireworks went off inside her, no explosions. It didn't feel like some earth-shattering, world-altering event. It was only a kiss; the simplicity of one girl's lips on another's. But it felt right. It felt safe, like the home Smalls had never really known. This, she realized as the kiss went on, wasn't so much true love as it was being truly loved. After everything, this single moment felt solid. Stable. Nothing mattered in the world except Sniper and her, her and Sniper. She didn't want it to end.

But eventually, Sniper paused for air, pulling the other girl into her. "You snuck up on me, Annie Hughes."

Smalls muttered into her shoulder, "You should a' seen it comin'."

"Smartass."

"You know you love me."

"Do I?"

"Up ta you."

"Guess I love ya."

"I love you too."

"I got bandages, if anybody cares." Finch had finally returned, leaning casually in the entryway from the other rooms.

"Hey, Finchy?" Sniper asked over top of Smalls' head.

"Yeah?"

"Go away."

"Real nice, real nice, shun da best friend now you's got a girlfriend," Finch flashed a sarcastic grin and chucked a box of band-aids at the pair. Smalls dodged them before flipping him off. "Okay, I'm leavin', I'm leavin'!"

"I love ya too!" Sniper called as he retreated.

"I don't!" added Smalls, glad to be rid of him.

Sniper pushed back to study her. "I bet ten bucks he grows on ya."

"In your dreams."

"Ya neva' know. I might 'ave a dream come true again."

"Oh, shut up."

"You shut up."

"No, you shut up."

"You'll love him."

"I only love you. No stupid boys."

"I don't think your boys are so stupid."

"We'll see about that."

"He'll come around, I bet you anything."

"When Santa Fe freezes over."

"Give him time."

Smalls reached into her pocket, pulling out the stack of Jack's sketch pieces. "No." Taking the papers in both hands, she tore them clean in half. "Stupid." She piled the halves on top of each other and ripped them into fourths. "Boys." As a finishing touch, she threw the squares in the air, letting them scatter like confetti around herself and Sniper.

"Hush."

"Hush yourself."

"Whateva' you say, my Queen." Sniper kissed Smalls again, and all became right with the world.

I know we're all thinking it...

Why is Jacobi's closed at 6:00 on a Tuesday night?

Because the second a newsie showed up after the rally ended, Mr. Jacobi closed his doors. He's too old for that shtuff.

That's why.

No convenient plot reasons here.

So tell me. How we feeling?

You gotta be as excited as I am, please. THE GIRLS!

It's not all fun and games, but let's give them happiness for a minute, shall we?

This'll be the last update for a bit, even though Spring Break is approaching. I actually will be vacationing, and then I've got an audition for (wait for it) Newsies!

But if time allows, I might give youse another chapter.

Until then, please review!