"Jack, hey, Jack!" Les called, pulling Jack out of his daydream. Jack turned his head slightly away from the moldy side of the building that he was staring at as they walked to look at his younger friend. He chuckled lightly as he watched Les pretend to sword fight with an imaginary figure in front of him. He jabbed at the empty air, every now and then making triumphant sounds of victory as he scored a direct hit.
They were now nearing the Brooklyn Bridge, being careful to take the back alleys. Jack nervously picked a cigarette apart in his pants pocket where his right hand rested. Les didn't know exactly why they were leaving, and he didn't ask any questions, which was good for Jack. How would he explain that there was someone who was capable of harming everyone in the entire vicinity of New York? Not easily.
"Les, you might wanna keep it down a little," Jack stated nonchalantly as they neared another dark alley lit with the bright moonlight, "We'se going to be nearin' a church cemetery." Les stopped in his tracks and starred at Jack with confused eyes.
"Why'd dat make a difference?" He asked.
"It's 'cause, well... you'd be wakin' da dead." Jack explained. Les continued to stare at him blankly. Jack shook his head and grinned slightly at the ground. "Aww, forget it, buddy." He reached up and pushed Les' cowboy hat over his eyes, causing him to drop his sword.
"Hey!" Les managed between giggles, trying to smooth his unclean hair while straightening his hat at the same time. The alley made an abrupt turn to the right, so they made it while they both slapped playfully at each other.
"Damn!" Jack cursed as he stopped in his tracks. They had run into a dead end.
"Ummn, are we lost or somethin'?" Les asked, trying hide his amusement.
Jack was about to respond when he heard snickering behind them. He turned around uneasily, his stomach suddenly being replaced by a pit of uneasiness. Jab and a few of his gang members stood behind them, fiendish grins on their faces as they moved in to block Jack and Les' escape. They were now boxed in because of the dead end and the human shield.
"Hey, look what we'se got heah. It's dat queer Cowboy an' his little toy, Les!" Jab rasped, raising one of his twisted eyebrows. "Whatchoo doin' on my territory?"
Jack took a deep breath and held Les back behind him with a protective arm. "Dis ain't yours and you know it. You ain't got any right to it." He said in a firm tone. Jab chuckled slightly and looked towards his cronies.
"Shoah I don't." He laughed, the sound reverberating off of the wall in front of him. As if it was a cue, several boys appeared on the top of the wall before dropping down, as if they were graceful cats, on their feet behind Jack and Les. Les gasped and gripped onto Jack's arm, his jagged nails pinching into the older boy's skin painfully.
Jab reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it. Les' terrified eyes widened even more when he heard the faint click of the switch blade knife. A gasp escaped the young boy's mouth as he cowered behind Jack, who managed to keep the stone like expression from wavering off of his face. Sensing his fear, Jab sneered down at Les as he twisted the knife around and about in his right hand. "You know why dey call me Jab, doncha, Lessy?" He asked in almost a sensual whisper.
Les' mouth fell open in a state of shock with the mere thought of the source Jab's name. "I-I..."
"Why doncha go back where you came from an' sleep dis off, huh, Jab?" Jack asked as he held up his free hand in an act of surrender.
"Ya see, Les," Jab continued without the slightest acknowledgment towards Jack, "I got da nickname on da account dat I'se good with me knife. Real good." He reflected the pale moonlight off of his knife and into the small boy's eyes. "Almost too good."
Jack pushed the stunned Les further behind him as he continued to stare at the other boy. "You have no business with us, Jab."
"Oh, on da contrary!" Jab insisted with mock sincerity. "I got all kindsa business with you, Jack-off." With this pun, the boys who stood in the background laughed uproariously. Jab continued to grin at his two captors with a sort of enjoyment. "All kinds." He repeated.
"Den take it up with me some odder time. Without da boy 'round." Jack took a small step forward and waited for a warning. When none came, he took another, all the while pulling Les directly behind him. "Den we can settle whatevah it is dat you wanna..."
"Stop stalling, Cowboy." Jab interrupted fiercely. "You know what I want."
"And what would dat be?" Jack questioned, not even missing a beat.
The other boy took a long, grueling moment to contemplate his usage or words. He then cocked one of his eyebrows up and responded, "You and dat boy dead."
Blinking his eyes rapidly, Les began to shudder. His body shook so fiercely that his cowboy hat fell off of his head and onto the ground. His body became tense with worry as his eyes stared down at his hat.
Jack narrowed his sharp brown eyes at Jab. "Dat's murder."
"No. Dat's justice, Cowboy."
If he could stoop down just a little bit, he could reach the hat. Les bit the corner of his lip and hunched his shoulders slightly as he let his arms fall out from behind Jack.
"Stop beatin' round da bush and tell me what bull you have with me, then!" Jack demanded. He could feel his patience being chipped away piece by piece.
Jab smirked as he continued to twirl his knife around in his hands. "Don't wanna be gettin' mean with me, boy. Just a little warning there. I mean," He threw a glance over Jack's head and then turned his attention back to him. "You wouldn't want to get someone hurt, now, wouldja?"
Before Jack could answer, there was a sharp intake of air from behind him. His left arm was suddenly holding back air as Les was uprooted from his spot. He turned around to see that Les was being held by one of the boys who were previously behind them. The young boy's cowboy hat was lying at Jack's feet.
"Lemme go! Lemme go!!" Les protested as he kicked at the large boy that held him. A bear like hand descended over his mouth, muffling his shouts.
"Tisk tisk! See what happens when we get out of control?" Jab asked. Jack whirled back around to face him.
"Let him go. Now." He growled.
Jab sighed as he ran a hand through his greasy raven colored hair. "I might let him go. An' den again, I might not."
Jack bit back a smart comment, his hands tightly fisted so that the knuckles were white and throbbing with a light pain. "Dependin' on what?" He breathed.
"If you die or not." Jab responded, his wild green eyes flashing cryptically.
Les' struggles became feverish. He kicked against the force which held him, pulling at the strong arms and kicking at the trunk-like legs. He never once took his eyes off of the two older boys in front of him.
"You'se crazy." Jack said, staring a hole into the other boy.
"And you know it." Jab switched his pocket knife to his right hand, taking a step in Jack's direction. "Make a choice, Jacky-boy. Go ahead. You or him? You got the guts er not, huh?"
"I would," Jack responded. "If it's just you an' me. No one else." Jab took the hint and nodded to the men around him. A few left wordlessly, while the rest mumbled disappointingly. The goon holding Les was the only one left. He switched his hold on the small boy, grunting softly as Les continued to try to escape.
Jab turned his intense gaze back on Jack. "Dere. You got your wish. Anyt'ing else, yer majesty?"
Jack wordlessly pulled his own knife out of his back pocket. "No." He said, centering his body. Jab grinned as they both began to circle each other, slowly. Their eyes never left the other. Les' moist eyes faltered between the two animal-like boys, hiccuping behind the strong hand that held his lips shut. His legs dangled tiredly against the man who held him.
"Don't you have any last words?" Jab asked, a grin spreading along his wicked mouth. His yellow teeth could be seen clearly from the moonlight. Jack shook his head slowly, not breaking his concentration in the slightest.
"Den say goodbye to yer little friend, Cowboy." Jab growled, whirling to his left to where Les was being held captive against the wall. Jack's heart rushed into his throat as he scrambled towards Jab, ready to plunge his knife into any accessible part of his body. Jab savagely ripped the small boy from the larger man's hands and held his knife against his throat. Les whimpered helplessly, dropping to the ground on his knees, tears streaming down his face. Jack stopped in his tracks, his eyes bright with worry.
Jab grinned triumphantly. "Looks like you both lose tonight, Jack!" He cried out. "You got what you wanted. You caught me in my game an' kicked me out. Now what're you gonna do, huh? Cry on me?" Jack savagely wiped a shirt sleeve across his face, rubbing the tears off of his face.
"Ja-Ja...Jack..." Les whimpered, his lips trembling from fear.
Jab laughed cruelly and pouted in Jack's direction. "C'mon, boy. Don't be gettin' chicken on me, now!"
"You know you don't want it to go down like dis, Jab." Jack said in an even voice. He fought to hold control. His knife was still securely in his right hand, but he had now straightened up and composed himself slightly. He tried his best not to look down at Les. "You know it's me dat you want, not some little kid."
"You know me all too well." Jab said. "But dis kid means nothin' to me. You think I'd cry if I killed 'im? Oh, boo hoo!"
"I'm askin' you to let him go, okay? He got nothin' ta do with all dis."
Jab paused, thinking of the possibilities. "Okay. Lets do dis." With that he threw Les to the ground, before jumping up rushing at Jack, slashing at him. A pang of pain ran it's course through Jack's body as the sharp knife made it's way across his left bicep. His blue shirt was stained with a thin line of blood that quickly spread. He dodged out of the line of fire, tripping over his own feet and collapsing onto his back. Jab growled and pounced onto Jack, knocking the knife out of his hand and holding him down by his chest.
Les gasped, watching Jack's knife fly off against the wall. He scrambled to his feet, trying feverishly to find the knife in the dim lighting. It was nowhere to be seen.
Jack wrapped his strong hands around Jab's arms, pushing up with all of his might while Jab pushed down with all of his. Jab slowly moved himself so that he was resting his knees on Jack's heaving chest, both of their faces red with exertion as they grunted and groaned.
With the panic of a young boy, Les brought himself to his feet. The knife had disappeared, and he watched dejectedly as Jack and Jab fought for the upper hand. Jack was losing strength, gravity working against him as Jab slowly inched the knife closer to Jack's chest.
Les saw red. He sprinted the few feet towards the other boys and madly threw himself at Jab's side. The impact was surpassingly great, catching both Jab and Jack off guard. Jab was thrown to the side, the knife still in a downward motion. He landed with a sickening thud on his side, his head cracking against the dirt alley and the knife tearing through the clothing and skin on his lower abdomen. A low moan escaped his mouth, and then he lay still and silent.
Opening his eyes, Les found himself laying halfway on top of Jack who was weezing lightly and trying to stand up. His muscles were weak and his arms shook as he fought to right himself. He could still feel the throbbing from the gash in his arm, where the cloth on his shirt was now caked with blood.
Les ignored the pounding pain in his shoulders and head, which received the most impact from his collision with Jab, and stood to help his friend up. Jack stood on legs like a baby foal, swaying slightly side to side, looking down at Jab's broken form. A puddle of blood was beginning to form under his body, and a small trickle of redness trickled from the corner of his mouth that was pointed to the ground.
"You... you 'kay, Cowboy?" Les asked shakily, his eyes still red and wet.
"Yeah. I'll live," Jack said with a smile. He reached out and tousled Les' ragged hair. "Thanks to you." He pulled the younger boy into his arms in a strong embrace, both of them holding on tightly. Les breathed in Jack's smell as he pushed his face into his chest as if he wanted to leave an imprint.
Jab opened his eyes slightly, sensing a murderous pain in his stomach. Some parts of his body were numb and his head was fuzzy. He raised his head in a drunken manner, slowly and deliberatly. He took in the sight of Jack and Les hugging, both of them with their eyes averted. A part of Jab's conscience mind whispered to him that he still held his knife in both of his hands. Without sense of being, he pulled the blood slicked knife out of his middle, both of his hands shaking all of the while, and pointed it in the boys' directions. He painfully brought himself to a semi-sitting position, the blood slightly gushing out of him. As his breathing became more irregular and he began to choke on his own blood, he used the rest of his God given strength to drive the knife into the two boys, before collapsing onto his face, dead.
The knife drove in-between Jack and Les. There was a sharp intake of air as both of them stiffened in pain while the blade contacted with skin. They then both had the sensation of falling, Les collapsing gracelessly onto Jack's chest as he fainted from mixed feelings of surprise and fear.
Consciousness slowly came back to Les as a small throbbing pain ached in his side. The blade had sliced a not so deep gash into him. He sat up quickly, looking down into Jack's face eagerly. The older boy's brow was slick with fresh sweat and his hands were now clasped on his side.
"Jack?" Les whispered harshly. "Jack, Jack, wake up!" he urged.
Jack's lips parted slowly and his tongue flicked out, wetting his chapped lips. "Les... run! Go get help, now! Oh God... Ohh..." he uttered before moaning slightly, clenching his eyes tighter than before. The knife had plunged deep into his side, drawing enough blood to form a dark puddle near him, just as one had around Jab. Les stared intently at the dark liquid, wishing it to go away.
"No, I won't leave you, Jack, no." Les insisted feverishly. "Get up, Cowboy, c'mon... don't, don't die, okay?" Les pleaded, tears spilling over his eyes again. He grasped madly onto Jack's shoulders trying to pull the boy up. Jack's gasps of pain, however, forced him to stop. Les instead slid off of Jack's legs onto his knees as he whimpered besides his best friend. The tears he shed mixed into the blood that continued to pour out of Jack's body.
"I... I'm sorry, Les." Jack uttered, his face now an ashy shade of pale. He opened his eyes, blinking away a few tears of pain and sorry from the brown orbs. "I'm so sorry."
"No, Jack. Don't say dat. You'se gonna be okay. Right?" Les begged of him.
"I don't... t'ink so. It hurts. A lot." His breath caught in his throat as a spasm of pain came to his attention.
Les drug a dirty sleeve across his eyes. "What'm I gonna do without ya, Jack? Huh?" He asked.
"Live, I guess." Jack said, his attempt at a joke, which fell flat. "Ya know I care 'bout you, right, Les?"
"Yeah." Les whispered in return.
"Tell dat to Davey, kay? And... and Sarah. Da boys. Tell 'em all." Jack clenched his eyes tight yet again, his hands spasaming slightly. "Tell 'em how much dey... dey meant. Ta me. Sometimes I nevah... I nevah got da chance."
Les waited intently for Jack to say more. To say something about how much money Race owed him. Or how Blink was supposed to buy him a cola at Tibby's. Or even how Les mistreated his cowboy hat. Something! Anything!
"Jack?" He asked after a few moments had passed. Jack's body was now still, his eyes no longer clenched and his chest no longer rising in fast, painful gasps. "Jack?" The young boys' lips trembled, and he erupted into sobs. His chest heaved and his eyes burned. He threw himself onto Jack's still body, crying for both of them. For all of them that had lost their great leader, and wonderful friend.
~*
Les was found a few hours later, clutching onto the dead body of his hero. The murderer lay close by. The broken hearted boy was ushered off to bed, seldomly saying a word to anyone (even his family) for a month after the funeral. Time went on, life reverted back to normal. Les went back to school, his life no longer centering around newsies. His developing New York accent was replaced by a finer vocabulary. He buried himself in school work, becoming interested in law. He became successful, yet empty inside. There was something missing from his life. The odd thing was, was that he knew what ailed him all along. The road he had left so far behind him that painful night had to be retaken. He needed that moment of conclusion to forgive himself, to move on.
~*
Now the young man, fifteen years older, kneeled beside the grave of his good friend, who had so long ago left him.
"I, umn, brought something to give you." He muttered to the boulder headstone, the wind whipping across his cold face. "It's rightfully yours, I guess." He reached behind him to where his nap sack sat in the dank. Unzipping it slowly, he reached inside and pulled out the only thing he had kept dear to him for all of those years.
With a light smile he placed the worn, faded cowboy hat on top of the boulder. He sat back on his hunches, staring at the hat. He remembered stooping down in the alley in the early sunrise, his face puffy from crying, as he picked up the cowboy hat that had been discarded due to the dreadful events of that night. He remembered staring at the hat many sleepness nights, trying not to think about how much he missed his friend, Jack, or how much he wanted to have died along beside him.
"It fits you." Les then stood up and re-shouldered his nap sack, never taking his eyes off of the hat. "I told them, you know." He said. "I told them all how much you loved them. How much you cared. I wanted to tell myself how much you loved me, in turn. But I couldn't do it. I guess I blamed myself, Jack. I did." The wind picked up speed yet again, pushing the gray clouds across the sky. To Les it seemed as if Jack was talking to him. "I love you, too, Jack." He whispered. He closed his eyes, feeling the warm feeling of fresh tears of emotion flow back into his body. Freedom from his curse was inevitable. He was now free to travel on his own way, without fear of persecution from his past.
With a last look at the resting hat on the gravestone, Les turned away towards the gate of the graveyard. He faced an entire different outlook on his life, now. And suddenly it was a beautiful day for a new beginning.
They were now nearing the Brooklyn Bridge, being careful to take the back alleys. Jack nervously picked a cigarette apart in his pants pocket where his right hand rested. Les didn't know exactly why they were leaving, and he didn't ask any questions, which was good for Jack. How would he explain that there was someone who was capable of harming everyone in the entire vicinity of New York? Not easily.
"Les, you might wanna keep it down a little," Jack stated nonchalantly as they neared another dark alley lit with the bright moonlight, "We'se going to be nearin' a church cemetery." Les stopped in his tracks and starred at Jack with confused eyes.
"Why'd dat make a difference?" He asked.
"It's 'cause, well... you'd be wakin' da dead." Jack explained. Les continued to stare at him blankly. Jack shook his head and grinned slightly at the ground. "Aww, forget it, buddy." He reached up and pushed Les' cowboy hat over his eyes, causing him to drop his sword.
"Hey!" Les managed between giggles, trying to smooth his unclean hair while straightening his hat at the same time. The alley made an abrupt turn to the right, so they made it while they both slapped playfully at each other.
"Damn!" Jack cursed as he stopped in his tracks. They had run into a dead end.
"Ummn, are we lost or somethin'?" Les asked, trying hide his amusement.
Jack was about to respond when he heard snickering behind them. He turned around uneasily, his stomach suddenly being replaced by a pit of uneasiness. Jab and a few of his gang members stood behind them, fiendish grins on their faces as they moved in to block Jack and Les' escape. They were now boxed in because of the dead end and the human shield.
"Hey, look what we'se got heah. It's dat queer Cowboy an' his little toy, Les!" Jab rasped, raising one of his twisted eyebrows. "Whatchoo doin' on my territory?"
Jack took a deep breath and held Les back behind him with a protective arm. "Dis ain't yours and you know it. You ain't got any right to it." He said in a firm tone. Jab chuckled slightly and looked towards his cronies.
"Shoah I don't." He laughed, the sound reverberating off of the wall in front of him. As if it was a cue, several boys appeared on the top of the wall before dropping down, as if they were graceful cats, on their feet behind Jack and Les. Les gasped and gripped onto Jack's arm, his jagged nails pinching into the older boy's skin painfully.
Jab reached into his pocket and pulled something out of it. Les' terrified eyes widened even more when he heard the faint click of the switch blade knife. A gasp escaped the young boy's mouth as he cowered behind Jack, who managed to keep the stone like expression from wavering off of his face. Sensing his fear, Jab sneered down at Les as he twisted the knife around and about in his right hand. "You know why dey call me Jab, doncha, Lessy?" He asked in almost a sensual whisper.
Les' mouth fell open in a state of shock with the mere thought of the source Jab's name. "I-I..."
"Why doncha go back where you came from an' sleep dis off, huh, Jab?" Jack asked as he held up his free hand in an act of surrender.
"Ya see, Les," Jab continued without the slightest acknowledgment towards Jack, "I got da nickname on da account dat I'se good with me knife. Real good." He reflected the pale moonlight off of his knife and into the small boy's eyes. "Almost too good."
Jack pushed the stunned Les further behind him as he continued to stare at the other boy. "You have no business with us, Jab."
"Oh, on da contrary!" Jab insisted with mock sincerity. "I got all kindsa business with you, Jack-off." With this pun, the boys who stood in the background laughed uproariously. Jab continued to grin at his two captors with a sort of enjoyment. "All kinds." He repeated.
"Den take it up with me some odder time. Without da boy 'round." Jack took a small step forward and waited for a warning. When none came, he took another, all the while pulling Les directly behind him. "Den we can settle whatevah it is dat you wanna..."
"Stop stalling, Cowboy." Jab interrupted fiercely. "You know what I want."
"And what would dat be?" Jack questioned, not even missing a beat.
The other boy took a long, grueling moment to contemplate his usage or words. He then cocked one of his eyebrows up and responded, "You and dat boy dead."
Blinking his eyes rapidly, Les began to shudder. His body shook so fiercely that his cowboy hat fell off of his head and onto the ground. His body became tense with worry as his eyes stared down at his hat.
Jack narrowed his sharp brown eyes at Jab. "Dat's murder."
"No. Dat's justice, Cowboy."
If he could stoop down just a little bit, he could reach the hat. Les bit the corner of his lip and hunched his shoulders slightly as he let his arms fall out from behind Jack.
"Stop beatin' round da bush and tell me what bull you have with me, then!" Jack demanded. He could feel his patience being chipped away piece by piece.
Jab smirked as he continued to twirl his knife around in his hands. "Don't wanna be gettin' mean with me, boy. Just a little warning there. I mean," He threw a glance over Jack's head and then turned his attention back to him. "You wouldn't want to get someone hurt, now, wouldja?"
Before Jack could answer, there was a sharp intake of air from behind him. His left arm was suddenly holding back air as Les was uprooted from his spot. He turned around to see that Les was being held by one of the boys who were previously behind them. The young boy's cowboy hat was lying at Jack's feet.
"Lemme go! Lemme go!!" Les protested as he kicked at the large boy that held him. A bear like hand descended over his mouth, muffling his shouts.
"Tisk tisk! See what happens when we get out of control?" Jab asked. Jack whirled back around to face him.
"Let him go. Now." He growled.
Jab sighed as he ran a hand through his greasy raven colored hair. "I might let him go. An' den again, I might not."
Jack bit back a smart comment, his hands tightly fisted so that the knuckles were white and throbbing with a light pain. "Dependin' on what?" He breathed.
"If you die or not." Jab responded, his wild green eyes flashing cryptically.
Les' struggles became feverish. He kicked against the force which held him, pulling at the strong arms and kicking at the trunk-like legs. He never once took his eyes off of the two older boys in front of him.
"You'se crazy." Jack said, staring a hole into the other boy.
"And you know it." Jab switched his pocket knife to his right hand, taking a step in Jack's direction. "Make a choice, Jacky-boy. Go ahead. You or him? You got the guts er not, huh?"
"I would," Jack responded. "If it's just you an' me. No one else." Jab took the hint and nodded to the men around him. A few left wordlessly, while the rest mumbled disappointingly. The goon holding Les was the only one left. He switched his hold on the small boy, grunting softly as Les continued to try to escape.
Jab turned his intense gaze back on Jack. "Dere. You got your wish. Anyt'ing else, yer majesty?"
Jack wordlessly pulled his own knife out of his back pocket. "No." He said, centering his body. Jab grinned as they both began to circle each other, slowly. Their eyes never left the other. Les' moist eyes faltered between the two animal-like boys, hiccuping behind the strong hand that held his lips shut. His legs dangled tiredly against the man who held him.
"Don't you have any last words?" Jab asked, a grin spreading along his wicked mouth. His yellow teeth could be seen clearly from the moonlight. Jack shook his head slowly, not breaking his concentration in the slightest.
"Den say goodbye to yer little friend, Cowboy." Jab growled, whirling to his left to where Les was being held captive against the wall. Jack's heart rushed into his throat as he scrambled towards Jab, ready to plunge his knife into any accessible part of his body. Jab savagely ripped the small boy from the larger man's hands and held his knife against his throat. Les whimpered helplessly, dropping to the ground on his knees, tears streaming down his face. Jack stopped in his tracks, his eyes bright with worry.
Jab grinned triumphantly. "Looks like you both lose tonight, Jack!" He cried out. "You got what you wanted. You caught me in my game an' kicked me out. Now what're you gonna do, huh? Cry on me?" Jack savagely wiped a shirt sleeve across his face, rubbing the tears off of his face.
"Ja-Ja...Jack..." Les whimpered, his lips trembling from fear.
Jab laughed cruelly and pouted in Jack's direction. "C'mon, boy. Don't be gettin' chicken on me, now!"
"You know you don't want it to go down like dis, Jab." Jack said in an even voice. He fought to hold control. His knife was still securely in his right hand, but he had now straightened up and composed himself slightly. He tried his best not to look down at Les. "You know it's me dat you want, not some little kid."
"You know me all too well." Jab said. "But dis kid means nothin' to me. You think I'd cry if I killed 'im? Oh, boo hoo!"
"I'm askin' you to let him go, okay? He got nothin' ta do with all dis."
Jab paused, thinking of the possibilities. "Okay. Lets do dis." With that he threw Les to the ground, before jumping up rushing at Jack, slashing at him. A pang of pain ran it's course through Jack's body as the sharp knife made it's way across his left bicep. His blue shirt was stained with a thin line of blood that quickly spread. He dodged out of the line of fire, tripping over his own feet and collapsing onto his back. Jab growled and pounced onto Jack, knocking the knife out of his hand and holding him down by his chest.
Les gasped, watching Jack's knife fly off against the wall. He scrambled to his feet, trying feverishly to find the knife in the dim lighting. It was nowhere to be seen.
Jack wrapped his strong hands around Jab's arms, pushing up with all of his might while Jab pushed down with all of his. Jab slowly moved himself so that he was resting his knees on Jack's heaving chest, both of their faces red with exertion as they grunted and groaned.
With the panic of a young boy, Les brought himself to his feet. The knife had disappeared, and he watched dejectedly as Jack and Jab fought for the upper hand. Jack was losing strength, gravity working against him as Jab slowly inched the knife closer to Jack's chest.
Les saw red. He sprinted the few feet towards the other boys and madly threw himself at Jab's side. The impact was surpassingly great, catching both Jab and Jack off guard. Jab was thrown to the side, the knife still in a downward motion. He landed with a sickening thud on his side, his head cracking against the dirt alley and the knife tearing through the clothing and skin on his lower abdomen. A low moan escaped his mouth, and then he lay still and silent.
Opening his eyes, Les found himself laying halfway on top of Jack who was weezing lightly and trying to stand up. His muscles were weak and his arms shook as he fought to right himself. He could still feel the throbbing from the gash in his arm, where the cloth on his shirt was now caked with blood.
Les ignored the pounding pain in his shoulders and head, which received the most impact from his collision with Jab, and stood to help his friend up. Jack stood on legs like a baby foal, swaying slightly side to side, looking down at Jab's broken form. A puddle of blood was beginning to form under his body, and a small trickle of redness trickled from the corner of his mouth that was pointed to the ground.
"You... you 'kay, Cowboy?" Les asked shakily, his eyes still red and wet.
"Yeah. I'll live," Jack said with a smile. He reached out and tousled Les' ragged hair. "Thanks to you." He pulled the younger boy into his arms in a strong embrace, both of them holding on tightly. Les breathed in Jack's smell as he pushed his face into his chest as if he wanted to leave an imprint.
Jab opened his eyes slightly, sensing a murderous pain in his stomach. Some parts of his body were numb and his head was fuzzy. He raised his head in a drunken manner, slowly and deliberatly. He took in the sight of Jack and Les hugging, both of them with their eyes averted. A part of Jab's conscience mind whispered to him that he still held his knife in both of his hands. Without sense of being, he pulled the blood slicked knife out of his middle, both of his hands shaking all of the while, and pointed it in the boys' directions. He painfully brought himself to a semi-sitting position, the blood slightly gushing out of him. As his breathing became more irregular and he began to choke on his own blood, he used the rest of his God given strength to drive the knife into the two boys, before collapsing onto his face, dead.
The knife drove in-between Jack and Les. There was a sharp intake of air as both of them stiffened in pain while the blade contacted with skin. They then both had the sensation of falling, Les collapsing gracelessly onto Jack's chest as he fainted from mixed feelings of surprise and fear.
Consciousness slowly came back to Les as a small throbbing pain ached in his side. The blade had sliced a not so deep gash into him. He sat up quickly, looking down into Jack's face eagerly. The older boy's brow was slick with fresh sweat and his hands were now clasped on his side.
"Jack?" Les whispered harshly. "Jack, Jack, wake up!" he urged.
Jack's lips parted slowly and his tongue flicked out, wetting his chapped lips. "Les... run! Go get help, now! Oh God... Ohh..." he uttered before moaning slightly, clenching his eyes tighter than before. The knife had plunged deep into his side, drawing enough blood to form a dark puddle near him, just as one had around Jab. Les stared intently at the dark liquid, wishing it to go away.
"No, I won't leave you, Jack, no." Les insisted feverishly. "Get up, Cowboy, c'mon... don't, don't die, okay?" Les pleaded, tears spilling over his eyes again. He grasped madly onto Jack's shoulders trying to pull the boy up. Jack's gasps of pain, however, forced him to stop. Les instead slid off of Jack's legs onto his knees as he whimpered besides his best friend. The tears he shed mixed into the blood that continued to pour out of Jack's body.
"I... I'm sorry, Les." Jack uttered, his face now an ashy shade of pale. He opened his eyes, blinking away a few tears of pain and sorry from the brown orbs. "I'm so sorry."
"No, Jack. Don't say dat. You'se gonna be okay. Right?" Les begged of him.
"I don't... t'ink so. It hurts. A lot." His breath caught in his throat as a spasm of pain came to his attention.
Les drug a dirty sleeve across his eyes. "What'm I gonna do without ya, Jack? Huh?" He asked.
"Live, I guess." Jack said, his attempt at a joke, which fell flat. "Ya know I care 'bout you, right, Les?"
"Yeah." Les whispered in return.
"Tell dat to Davey, kay? And... and Sarah. Da boys. Tell 'em all." Jack clenched his eyes tight yet again, his hands spasaming slightly. "Tell 'em how much dey... dey meant. Ta me. Sometimes I nevah... I nevah got da chance."
Les waited intently for Jack to say more. To say something about how much money Race owed him. Or how Blink was supposed to buy him a cola at Tibby's. Or even how Les mistreated his cowboy hat. Something! Anything!
"Jack?" He asked after a few moments had passed. Jack's body was now still, his eyes no longer clenched and his chest no longer rising in fast, painful gasps. "Jack?" The young boys' lips trembled, and he erupted into sobs. His chest heaved and his eyes burned. He threw himself onto Jack's still body, crying for both of them. For all of them that had lost their great leader, and wonderful friend.
~*
Les was found a few hours later, clutching onto the dead body of his hero. The murderer lay close by. The broken hearted boy was ushered off to bed, seldomly saying a word to anyone (even his family) for a month after the funeral. Time went on, life reverted back to normal. Les went back to school, his life no longer centering around newsies. His developing New York accent was replaced by a finer vocabulary. He buried himself in school work, becoming interested in law. He became successful, yet empty inside. There was something missing from his life. The odd thing was, was that he knew what ailed him all along. The road he had left so far behind him that painful night had to be retaken. He needed that moment of conclusion to forgive himself, to move on.
~*
Now the young man, fifteen years older, kneeled beside the grave of his good friend, who had so long ago left him.
"I, umn, brought something to give you." He muttered to the boulder headstone, the wind whipping across his cold face. "It's rightfully yours, I guess." He reached behind him to where his nap sack sat in the dank. Unzipping it slowly, he reached inside and pulled out the only thing he had kept dear to him for all of those years.
With a light smile he placed the worn, faded cowboy hat on top of the boulder. He sat back on his hunches, staring at the hat. He remembered stooping down in the alley in the early sunrise, his face puffy from crying, as he picked up the cowboy hat that had been discarded due to the dreadful events of that night. He remembered staring at the hat many sleepness nights, trying not to think about how much he missed his friend, Jack, or how much he wanted to have died along beside him.
"It fits you." Les then stood up and re-shouldered his nap sack, never taking his eyes off of the hat. "I told them, you know." He said. "I told them all how much you loved them. How much you cared. I wanted to tell myself how much you loved me, in turn. But I couldn't do it. I guess I blamed myself, Jack. I did." The wind picked up speed yet again, pushing the gray clouds across the sky. To Les it seemed as if Jack was talking to him. "I love you, too, Jack." He whispered. He closed his eyes, feeling the warm feeling of fresh tears of emotion flow back into his body. Freedom from his curse was inevitable. He was now free to travel on his own way, without fear of persecution from his past.
With a last look at the resting hat on the gravestone, Les turned away towards the gate of the graveyard. He faced an entire different outlook on his life, now. And suddenly it was a beautiful day for a new beginning.