A.N. Sorry I haven't updated in so long but I think I'm about to either get
off grounding or be put on it for longer. But I'll try to update during
school or something like that.
The next day Irish woke up and found an arm slung around her waist, she turned her head to the side slightly and saw it belonged to Spot. "Ugh!" She pushed his arm off of her and then crawled over him to get to the floor. Almost as soon as she planted her feet on the ground an arm snapped out and punched her straight in the face. Irish stumbled back and two hands reached out to steady her. She glanced over her shoulder at Spot who still hadn't removed his hands and glared at him. "Let go," she growled.
He let go of her waist and she turned around to face her attacker, who happened to be Trouble. She quickly went into a fighting stance, as did Trouble and they studied each other, "What was that for?"
Trouble smiled and dropped her fists to her side, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She started to hand it to Irish but then snapped her arm back and just stared at Irish, before speaking. "You look like hoir, you fight like hoir, hell you talk like hoir, but I'se gotta be soir dat you are hoir."
Irish looked at Trouble like she was crazy, "Hoir who?"
"A friend, my closest friend, we grew up together. She had a brudder," Trouble gestured to Rage. "He ran away when we were all twelve and she cried for a week straight and den she didn't talk for a month." Irish started shaking violently and she stepped back and sat on the bed. Trouble kept talking, "She was a brave one, she tawked me into runnin away, and we did, Chicago to New Yoirk, an orphanage to freedom. We were trouble makers but we always took care of ourselves somehow. Sometimes pickin pockets, udder stealin, whatever it took. Then we got here and began pickin pockets, a cop musta seen one of us cuz he blew his whistle. I ran, assumin she did the same, but when I came back latah she wasn't there. I thought she was dead, so I settled into my routine, but you'se, you'se remind me of hoir."
Irish looked up at Trouble's face searching for anything familiar, any similarities. She stood, walked to Trouble, and held up her right palm which had a long scar running across it, and Trouble gasped and raised her left palm to flatten an identical scar over Irish's.' Irish smiled and hugged Trouble then pulled away and punched her.
Trouble looked at her stunned, "What the HELL?"
"Don't evah leave me again!" Then her and Trouble hugged again, another pair of arms wrapped around both of them. Irish looked up and saw her brother's face and she just smiled, letting him know that what was in the past was in the past. Then a key was heard in the lock of the door and they all pulled away as Warden Snyder walked in. They all cleared a path and bowed their heads slightly. Everyone except Irish, and Spot. Irish because she didn't understand and Spot because he wouldn't submit to anyone.
Snyder smiled at Spot, "Ah the King of Brooklyn, I'm happy to finally see you where you belong."
Spot sneered at him, "I'se won't be here long."
Snyder merely smiled, "I'll see what I can do about that."
Then he turned to Irish and her jaw dropped in realization, "You!" She tried to leap at him but he raised his police stick and knocked her to the side. She spit blood out of her mouth and it landed on his boot. He sneered at her but it had no effect, "I'se got a score ta settle wit you'se."
"Doesn't everyone?"
Irish shrugged and glared at the man before her, she could feel the bruise forming on her cheek but she refused to even acknowledge it. About ten guards stood behind Snyder, they were all lined up, waiting for his orders. "Time to got to court boys and girls." He grasped Irish's arm tightly in his and roughly pulled her to her feet and out the door. The other newsies followed quickly. Immediately behind her was Spot and then Trouble and Rage. She wondered briefly where Jack was but dismissed it as they were brought into the courthouse.
They were all grouped together to the left of the judge as he walked in, and called order. The boys were in a playful mood and Spot decided to show everyone exactly how much respect he had for authority. "I'se object you'se honah."
"On what grounds," He asked looking Spot over.
Spot smiled charmingly, "On the grounds of Brooklyn." The newsies erupted into laughter and the judge pounded his gavil, calling for order. He then fined the newsies five dollars each or a month in the refuge.
Race was stunned, "Five bucks? We ain't got five bucks, we don't even got five cents. He your honah, how bout I roll you for it, double or nothin?" Again the newsies laughed and just as the judge was going to send them away, Denton came in and said he'd pay all the fines. As everyone was pushed to the exit two more cops brought Jack in.
Some of the newsies called out to him and he looked over, "Hey ya fellas."
Race snickered, "Hey cowboy, nice shinah." Some of the newsies laughed but Irish pushed her way towards the front and caught Jack's attention and mouthed, "I found Jo." He smiled but then noticed her face and looked at her questioningly. She just shrugged as he was pulled in front of the judge.
Irish was the only one not surprised when Snyder told his past, and once Jack was taken away, Denton and Davey made their way over and Denton leaned against the rail. "We need to meet at Tibby's, everyone." At Tibby's Denton explained what had happened and tried to make the newsies understand but in the end they didn't. Irish followed him out to the street and called out his name.
He turned and waited for her to catch up, "I know you don't' know me but Jack's like me brudder and I trust him. Since he trusted you, I do too. So I'm only gonna ask dis once, were you'se transferred because of the stories you'se have done on the strike?" When Denton nodded, she smiled, "I like you'se and they'll come around." Irish turned and walked back to Tibby's where she saw Spot standing out front, smoking.
He glared at her as she walked up and she gave him a questioning look, he frowned. "You like the scabber, go back ta Medda's goil, we don't want you'se here." Spot stormed back into the restaurant before Irish could say anything and she growled at his ignorance and turned on her heel to take a walk.
The next day Irish woke up and found an arm slung around her waist, she turned her head to the side slightly and saw it belonged to Spot. "Ugh!" She pushed his arm off of her and then crawled over him to get to the floor. Almost as soon as she planted her feet on the ground an arm snapped out and punched her straight in the face. Irish stumbled back and two hands reached out to steady her. She glanced over her shoulder at Spot who still hadn't removed his hands and glared at him. "Let go," she growled.
He let go of her waist and she turned around to face her attacker, who happened to be Trouble. She quickly went into a fighting stance, as did Trouble and they studied each other, "What was that for?"
Trouble smiled and dropped her fists to her side, and then reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She started to hand it to Irish but then snapped her arm back and just stared at Irish, before speaking. "You look like hoir, you fight like hoir, hell you talk like hoir, but I'se gotta be soir dat you are hoir."
Irish looked at Trouble like she was crazy, "Hoir who?"
"A friend, my closest friend, we grew up together. She had a brudder," Trouble gestured to Rage. "He ran away when we were all twelve and she cried for a week straight and den she didn't talk for a month." Irish started shaking violently and she stepped back and sat on the bed. Trouble kept talking, "She was a brave one, she tawked me into runnin away, and we did, Chicago to New Yoirk, an orphanage to freedom. We were trouble makers but we always took care of ourselves somehow. Sometimes pickin pockets, udder stealin, whatever it took. Then we got here and began pickin pockets, a cop musta seen one of us cuz he blew his whistle. I ran, assumin she did the same, but when I came back latah she wasn't there. I thought she was dead, so I settled into my routine, but you'se, you'se remind me of hoir."
Irish looked up at Trouble's face searching for anything familiar, any similarities. She stood, walked to Trouble, and held up her right palm which had a long scar running across it, and Trouble gasped and raised her left palm to flatten an identical scar over Irish's.' Irish smiled and hugged Trouble then pulled away and punched her.
Trouble looked at her stunned, "What the HELL?"
"Don't evah leave me again!" Then her and Trouble hugged again, another pair of arms wrapped around both of them. Irish looked up and saw her brother's face and she just smiled, letting him know that what was in the past was in the past. Then a key was heard in the lock of the door and they all pulled away as Warden Snyder walked in. They all cleared a path and bowed their heads slightly. Everyone except Irish, and Spot. Irish because she didn't understand and Spot because he wouldn't submit to anyone.
Snyder smiled at Spot, "Ah the King of Brooklyn, I'm happy to finally see you where you belong."
Spot sneered at him, "I'se won't be here long."
Snyder merely smiled, "I'll see what I can do about that."
Then he turned to Irish and her jaw dropped in realization, "You!" She tried to leap at him but he raised his police stick and knocked her to the side. She spit blood out of her mouth and it landed on his boot. He sneered at her but it had no effect, "I'se got a score ta settle wit you'se."
"Doesn't everyone?"
Irish shrugged and glared at the man before her, she could feel the bruise forming on her cheek but she refused to even acknowledge it. About ten guards stood behind Snyder, they were all lined up, waiting for his orders. "Time to got to court boys and girls." He grasped Irish's arm tightly in his and roughly pulled her to her feet and out the door. The other newsies followed quickly. Immediately behind her was Spot and then Trouble and Rage. She wondered briefly where Jack was but dismissed it as they were brought into the courthouse.
They were all grouped together to the left of the judge as he walked in, and called order. The boys were in a playful mood and Spot decided to show everyone exactly how much respect he had for authority. "I'se object you'se honah."
"On what grounds," He asked looking Spot over.
Spot smiled charmingly, "On the grounds of Brooklyn." The newsies erupted into laughter and the judge pounded his gavil, calling for order. He then fined the newsies five dollars each or a month in the refuge.
Race was stunned, "Five bucks? We ain't got five bucks, we don't even got five cents. He your honah, how bout I roll you for it, double or nothin?" Again the newsies laughed and just as the judge was going to send them away, Denton came in and said he'd pay all the fines. As everyone was pushed to the exit two more cops brought Jack in.
Some of the newsies called out to him and he looked over, "Hey ya fellas."
Race snickered, "Hey cowboy, nice shinah." Some of the newsies laughed but Irish pushed her way towards the front and caught Jack's attention and mouthed, "I found Jo." He smiled but then noticed her face and looked at her questioningly. She just shrugged as he was pulled in front of the judge.
Irish was the only one not surprised when Snyder told his past, and once Jack was taken away, Denton and Davey made their way over and Denton leaned against the rail. "We need to meet at Tibby's, everyone." At Tibby's Denton explained what had happened and tried to make the newsies understand but in the end they didn't. Irish followed him out to the street and called out his name.
He turned and waited for her to catch up, "I know you don't' know me but Jack's like me brudder and I trust him. Since he trusted you, I do too. So I'm only gonna ask dis once, were you'se transferred because of the stories you'se have done on the strike?" When Denton nodded, she smiled, "I like you'se and they'll come around." Irish turned and walked back to Tibby's where she saw Spot standing out front, smoking.
He glared at her as she walked up and she gave him a questioning look, he frowned. "You like the scabber, go back ta Medda's goil, we don't want you'se here." Spot stormed back into the restaurant before Irish could say anything and she growled at his ignorance and turned on her heel to take a walk.