I said a few days, it ended up being nearly a week…I'm sorry, it's been a crazy week.  But I had to get this in before I left for a bit, so here ya go!  It's been an awesome ride, and I'd like to thank all of you for making that possible.  You all rock!

Chapter 12

            The bronze metalwork of Horace Greely shimmered in the early morning light.  A figure rose from beneath its slight shadow to meet the other, still half sleeping, staggering down the road.  "Feelin any better?"  Jack asked, squinting against the rising sun.

            Turning his face to the pale sky, David filled his lungs with air and exhaled as he stretched his arms as far as they'd reach to either side.  "Now, out in the open?  Yes.  I didn't sleep well, though.  After the fever broke, dreams kept waking me.  Had to convince Ma to let me out.  Needed the space…"
            Jack nodded in silent understanding.  He knew enough from experience the affects of caging, and wasn't Mouth enough to try to find words that would make any difference.  "Les comin?" he asked instead, feeling that subject change would more suit the situation.

            "Later," David answered, rubbing his palms over his face.  "Couldn't wake him this early.  Sara'll bring him by later on her way to work."

            Feeling blood rise in his cheeks at the mention of Sara's name, Jack stammered for a reply.  David, who hadn't noticed, saved him by filling the silence.  "In all the bustle last night, I don't think I got a chance to thank you," David glanced from his boots to Jack's face, his eyes serious.  "You really…I don't know what..."

            "What's this—the Walkin Mouth at a loss for words?"  Jack clapped a brotherly hand on David's shoulder.  Noting David's own blush with amusement, he shrugged.  "Nah, forget about it.  It's nothing you wouldnta done if ya could."  With a curl of his finger, he indicated for David to come closer, as if to confide in him some dark secret.  "Really, all's I did was try ta think like you.  Like I said, hadn't ya been hurt…" he trailed off, just remembering something.  "How is that?"

            "Oh," David brushed the back of his curls with a hand, "Ma cleaned it and made me wear a bandage overnight.  I'll be fine; it just needed treatment."  He stopped and gazed around at the square, then glimpsed at his watch.  "The others will be here soon, won't they?  They'll want to hear the full version of the story."  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and looked at Jack, his face unsure.  "Are you going to tell them about the Refuge?"

            Cold nausea bubbled in Jack's stomach as he relived bursting from the window in his room to the open street.  He'd circled around, gathering his bearings, and nearly fell when he saw the dark stone of the Refuge looming at them from where they'd escaped.  He almost lapsed into a shock-induced trance-like state right there, in front of the window, had not David's feverish laughter at the irony woken him. 

            Now, the insanity of the situation caused Jack to smile.  "Of course," he answered with a trademark cocky grin.  "It's the perfect icin on the cake.  Their eyes are gonna go huge."  He paused to savor the thought—if his escapades were renowned for the Roosevelt incident, wait until this.  "'Sides," he added to justify his boasting, prompted by the knowing shake of David's head, "it'll really inspire the troops, ya know?  'Strike leaders escape from bowels of enemy fortress,'" he spread his hand across the air, imagining their feat in headline.  "Won't need no exaggeratin."

            David nodded in agreement.  "Yeah, that'll be good.  Though," a smile spread across his face, "I want to hear more about Racetrack, leader of the Newsie forces."  The combined laughter of brains and voice reverberated off the gleaming cobblestones.

            "Ya shoulda seen him Dave, woulda if ya weren't outta it."  Jack beamed, both proud and amused.  "Up there, pale as a ghost, shakin, but with the most determined look in his eyes.  He'd sooner lose a poker match than mess this thing up."

            The morning cries and song of departing newsboys banished further discussion.  A determined chunk of the group, mostly the youngest newsies and older ones, Jack's closer friends, made their way to Jack and David.  Glancing at Jack, amusement tugging at his lips, David made to move to the background.  Jack caught David's arm and turned him around.  "You tell them."

            "Me?"  David stared quizzically at Jack.  "I don't remember most of it.  I was incoherent for practically the whole time."

            Jack shook his head, not accepting the excuse.  The time had come for David to learn.  "Tell them all ya know, I'll just fill in the rest."  Opening his mouth to protest, David continued to stare, pleading for help or advice, and Jack.  The crowd reached them before he could argue further.

            "So, you two big shots gonna let us know where ya been or what?"  Racetrack stepped forward, swiping a match on the sole of his boot. 

            "Takin charge again, huh, Race?" Jack laughed.  He stepped beside Racetrack and leaned an elbow on the side of the statue before straightening.  "Actually, Dave here wants ta tell the story.  And I thought ta myself: the ravings of a fevered madman, yeah, that'd make for some good entertainment." 

            Casting a final insistent look at David, he pushed his protégée forward and settled back to listen.  In the past few days, David taught him more than he'd learned in  years.  Now, Jack decided, he needed to return the favor.  That's what brothers did.

Finis.

Klover—I hope you get to read this sometime soon!  Wow, Ireland, I'm jealous!  Thanks for all of the well-wishes, and I well-wish you as well!  Sorry, a bit too out of it to find other vocabulary to use instead of well-wishing.  I really hope you enjoyed the ending!

Rae Kelly—I hope you feel better with crutches and all!  Haha well you're Pulitzer dancing  in spirit, and it's a very fun dance.  Sorry no Pulitzer in this chapter, but I really don't know where he would go.  *Sticks him in the shadowed dark alleyway, breathing heavily and watching the events through a telescope* There!  Yay!

T.H.—I'm glad I helped quench your ff craving.  Sadly, this is going to be it for a little bit.  I feel slightly bad, I really should return with a nice happy fic for david, but I just got the "wave a white flag" song after searching for it forever, so I can finally embark on that soon.  Ah, it's going to be evil.  I'm so excited!  I've had the lyrics for awhile (thanks to my loverly awesome friend Skitch), but I refuse to write a songfic unless I can hear the song.  It really helps me with the story.  And dude, after hearing the tone of the song…ahh it's going to be so twisted!  *boings*

*Cowers* don't thank me for the Pulitzer, thank Rae!  She inspired me.  I just sat and was like "what would she want…" But thankya!

*does the T.H. loves david dance* yay for davey!  He's so very awesome.  I feel really bad about what I'm going to do to him.  It's actually kind of sad b/c the only plot line that would fit the lyrics without being really scary (I absolutely refuse to make david evil) seems to be one of the latest trends in david ff.  there's been a rash of a few of these fics with the same main focal point of the plot, but I'll try to make it different.  And after that I'll try to make it up to him.

You will be a perfect novelist.  You're practically acting like a professional novelist right now.  I'm just too much of a slacker to write a novel.  Well, I'm not a slacker.  During the summer I am, so I feel like one now.  But during the school year, it's insane.

UPDATE.

You're one of my heroes, T.H.!  Huzzah!  Just for how dedicated and awesome you are…

And you deserve quadruple the praise!  Muah!