Honey was still shaken as they gathered on the back patio of the neighborhood pub, her fingers clumsy on the teacup of hot tody Spot brought her from the bar. Mush sat by her side but didn't touch her. Jack knew her hands were shaking for reasons other than the freezing temperatures.

They didn't want to sit inside and risk someone overhearing their strange conversation…and Jack could tell Honey felt…jumpy.

He and the guys understood, often felt it themselves.

Her eyes were wide, as if open for the first time, but became strangely calm after a few sips of the stout tody and a few deep breaths. Tyler sat on her other side, his eyes darting between the guys as they stood huddled around them, their breaths clouding the air between their bodies.

The guys glanced at each other, muttering comments here and there in an attempt to keep from falling apart themselves, to keep from falling prey to the strangeness they'd become so accustomed to.

Spot handed Jack a cigarette, and he accepted it, leaning into the flame of Spot's zippo.

"Thanks, Spot," he muttered to the ground. His chest felt tight, not knowing what he'd do without him, the guys.

After being in the old brothel…after seeing the way Honey woke from her trance…he felt jumpy himself.

Jack felt her gaze like rays of sunshine on his face, burning through him, seeing through him. Exposed to everything…almost.

He and the guys decided before meeting Honey and Tyler not to mention Jazzi…not yet. David and Mush had to talk Jack into it, but given Jazzi's closeness with Tiffany… they decided to give her a chance to do the right thing.

Honey sat still as she watched Jack, waiting. He tried to slow his own heartbeat before he spoke…before he told her what she needed to know.

"She's in trouble," Honey whispered. "Isn't she."

Jack merely glanced at her and her body crumpled inward as she exhaled heavily, her eyes watering.

Spot shoved his hands into his coat pockets, glancing at Jack. "Sorry ta be the bearers of even worse news."

"Crazy news," Tyler whispered, still in a bit of awe.

None of them looked up as it began snowing softly, the silence deepening.

She looked at Mush and found no comfort in his dark hazel eyes as snowflakes landed in his curly hair.

"So he knows," she said. "He knows who she is."

"Yes and no," David amended quietly, a cup of coffee gripped between his hands. Connor's younger brother Mikey blessedly left the coffee pot on a hot plate outside on their table. Race held his hands over the steam, his eyes glazed.

"We believe he recognizes her as Talia but doesn't know her true identity in this life…the life she keeps hidden behind 'Tiffany Wingham'."

Honey sniffed, looking down at her cup. Her shoulders slumped in mild relief. "She's worked her ass off to keep her identities separate – so she could work in the club and go undercover with the FBI. I don't think –" she swallowed, fighting to keep her voice steady. "I don't think she knows about any of this, she would've told me..." She shook her head as she fought her tears, looking up at Jack. "But I know she dreamt of you before she even laid eyes on you. I know it confuses her…and draws her to you."

Spot and David glanced at each other. Tyler dragged a hand through his hair. "Holy shit," he murmured before downing his whiskey. Racetrack handed him a cup of coffee.

"She changed her name to escape the life of a prost," Jack murmured, drawing everyone's gazes. "She changed her name from Natalia to Ira, her birth name, to escape him…but she never could."

"Ira…" Honey's brows knitted as she tasted the name on her lips, her eyes reading things Jack couldn't see. She kept her eyes cast down on the flagstone under her boots. "What will she think…when she remembers? What will happen…to Tiffany?"

She looked up at them, begging for a happy answer. The guys had none to give.

"That's what I'm worried about," Jack said tightly.

Honey swallowed and she hesitated…"What happened?"

He huffed a sigh through his nose, submitting to the memories he could never forget. They flowed through his mind as if it were yesterday…

"We were Newsies."

Honey looked at each of them, at Mush, as they watched Jack…their leader. She saw it, in her head…

"I – we met Talia in 1899, after the Newsie Strike. Garrison Rockefell'ah was…a client of hers." he swallowed, skipping over details he didn't want to remember. "She was sought after at the brothel…one of the few prosts who made enough to take care of herself. She ran that joint, until he an' his buddies –"

He swallowed tightly, remembering that night, the hurt in her eyes…the anger.

"They tried to gang up on her, an' we tumbled with 'em. That's when his grudge towards me, towards us, started. She decided to leave the business."

"You helped her get out," Spot added.

"We helped her get out," Jack said, meeting Spot's hard gaze. Spot nodded, allowing it.

"Got her a spot at Medda's, at the theatre." Racetrack swirled his cup as he leaned on his elbows. He looked up at Honey and Tyler. "She's like…a big sister to us. She's here too." He smiled a little. "She's a Broadway producer."

Mush smiled in response.

Honey and Tyler glanced at each other, then at Jack, seeing the confirmation on his stern face.

He took a long drag, and his voice rasped in his throat as he blew out smoke. "It didn't matt'ah – He still found her…an' abducted her."

He didn't know what Honey read on his face, but she saw it, their pain. Mush reached for her hand, and she let him wrap his fingers around hers.

"What you did mattah'ed," Racetrack pressed, scowling up at Jack. "An' you know it."

Jack shook his head, years of guilt, from the past and the present, pressed upon him…upon his conscience. "He still won, in the end."

The guys watched him silently.

Jack looked away.

"We looked for her for weeks," David continued gently. "Spot, Spot Conlon, ran the Brooklyn Newsies, and helped us."

Spot sniffed, crossing his arms, his own memories dancing in his eyes.

David's voice dropped. "It was Kid Blink who found out where she was…where she was sold. She was in the 'Underground'."

Honey's eyes drifted over the guys, noting the tension in their jaws and bodies.

"...a human trafficking network in the slums of New York." David looked down at his coffee. "Garrison funded the drugs they gave girls to make them submissive. But Medda got her out…and Talia was the whistleblower. He was arrested."

"She changed her name, and opened a dance studio," Mush said wistfully. He turned and allowed a small smirk at the surprise on Honey's face. "Oh yeah…she's always been a dancer. It's all she ever wanted to do."

It was strange, so strange, that they knew her... Mush understood the look in Honey's eyes.

"But the court barely gave Garrison a slap on the wrist," Racetrack said bitterly over his warming hands.

David treaded carefully around the prickly emotions around him…"I think it's safe to say…he never forgot what she did."

Honey's expression darkened.

David ran his fingers through his hair. "The family disowned him, he lost his fiancé –"

Mush gave him a warning glance. Honey's brows drew together, reading the unspoken words between them…

"He's continuing his work," Tyler said slowly. "Girls disappearing from the club, drugs… he's picking up where he left off…and now that he knows about Tiffany –"

"He's seeking revenge," Spot said quietly.

Honey wheeled on him, angry at the truth in his eyes.

David continued solemnly. "When he got out of prison, he had Jack thrown in jail…and murdered."

Honey's eyes became wild on Jack's face.

Jack tried to meet her eyes without the image of the cold dark jail cell in his mind, but he somehow knew she could see it there, his personal torment.

"He knows you've found her," she whispered.

The muscle in Jack's jaw tightened.

"'s why Cage threatened us," Spot said tightly.

Honey almost dropped the empty cup in her hands as she put it aside on the table and stood up, advancing towards Jack. Her voice rose hysterically, earnestly. "Promise me you're going to see Agent Martin tomorrow – promise me."

He watched her numbly.

She sensed his doubt. "You're in danger. All of you. You need the protection he can give you."

Jack took another drag before putting out the cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table. He met her eyes calmly. His heart ached.

"I meant it when I said it didn't matt'ah - that no matt'ah what we did or could've done differently, he still won…an' 's the same way now. You know as well as I do that the bad guys win. 's not right, 's not fair, but it's their game."

The guys looked at him blankly. For once the night was still around them, snow building on their coats, hats, and hair.

Honey stared at Jack, the shoulders of her emerald coat dusted in tiny ice crystals. Her eyes seemed so big as her loose curls framed her face, seeing through him again. Her face darkened further as she read him and he fought the urge to look away, to hide.

Her voice was sharp but low, menacing. "So you think she's wasting her time?" She resented the resignation in his eyes. "That we're going to lose? That everything she's done, everything she's sacrificed, then and now, has been for nothing?"

"How can ya ask me ta believe any differently?" Jack shot back.

"Jack –" David began.

Jack's eyes blazed on David's face. His friend fell silent, the others watching him carefully.

Jack's voice bounced off the alley next to the pub patio, his voice wavering against the emotions warring inside him, "Our best friend is workin' for tha son of a bitch – tha guy who had me killed in a jail cell like tha coward he is, and still is. Hiding behind someone else's money, someone else's power. He probably knows who Cage really is and is relishin' in plannin' when he can kill him right in front of us outta spite because he fuckin' can."

Mush shook his head. "Don't say that, Jack," he choked out.

"'s too far, Jackie Boy," Spot said darkly.

Jack turned on them. "'Too far' is his play, you know it is. He did it before - he had her killed, then Kid - all of you killed,an' left ya in the fuckin' gutt'ah. An' now he has her trapped again jus' like before."

Their eyes changed as they watched him…he saw his thoughts mirrored in them. He hated it. This was for him to carry, not them.

Honey gripped her coat as if it would keep her from falling apart.

But he couldn't stop it - couldn't stop the dam that burst open inside him, the fears pouring out. His eyes stung as he thought of Tiffany's smiling face, as he looked at Honey. He felt the hopelessness rising inside him like a wave threatening to drown him, a wave he'd kept under check for so long. It almost felt good to let it rush in –

"I hope ta God this agent knows what he's doin'. I hope he puts everythin' on the line for her, I hope he puts up as much as she has – more – because if we have to watch her crumble into a shadow of a person again - watch the fire fade from her eyes – hear her screamin' for her life – see the brokenness –"

He almost didn't recognize the feeling on his face as tears fell down his cheeks.

"We never found her body," he said, seeing the guys' heads drop. He shook his head, "If he takes her away again...it would be a hundred times worse than before. He'll make sure of it."

The last fear admitted, the one that weighed him beneath the surface.

Honey's tears mirrored his, silent as the heartbreak on her face.

He shook his head, remembering…"Ya can't understand how helpless we felt – how helpless we feel now, watchin' her make the same decisions...the stubbornness, the bravery... Wonderin' if she'll ever remember, wonderin' if it would make a difference, or make everythin' worse... There was nothing I could do – nothing I can do –"

He took a step backward from them, retreating –

But Honey stepped forward and reached for him, her hand gripping his coat as she laid the other against his cheek, holding him there.

"Jack," she pleaded. "Stay…stay."

She began murmuring under her breath…in Gaelic. It could've been a spell or a lullaby. The caress of her voice was too much…Jaw tight, eyes stinging, he glanced at Spot, Racetrack, Mush, and David. They were turned to him. If Honey hadn't reached for him first…they would've jumped forward to catch him, to pull him from the darkness that threatened to drown him.

Honey fell silent and she read him for a long moment. Her fingers tensed on him as tears still fell down her face, and he wondered…if she could see…if she could feel what he did.

"...mhàthair milis," she breathed. "Such heartache…so heavy…this is too heavy for you to carry alone, Jack."

He breathed through his nose, trying to regain control … He couldn't while she looked at him with those eyes, a gaze that could see the ghosts within him.

She gripped his coat tighter, shaking him slightly. "You didn't give up on her. Even when it felt hopeless, you didn't give up on her. Don't you dare give up on her now."

Such a strong gaze within a beautiful face. The light from the backdoor fell across the freckles on her cheeks and glinted in her wide eyes. He felt the love she had for Tiffany. He felt the confidence she had in her…felt the assurance she held on to like a life vest, that Tiffany was stronger than before…

Thinking of her now…so different from the woman she was in 1899, so different from Talia or Ira. He believed she was stronger too.

For the first time in a while…the tightness in his chest eased. The dark jail cell retreated a step.

"I don't think I could give up on her even if I wanted to," he murmured. The wetness on his cheeks began to freeze, breaking through the numbness he had felt for so long. He straightened and looked at his friends. "I'm sorry."

Spot's gaze didn't soften as he stepped forward and gripped Jack's coat, pulling him into a bear hug. Racetrack clapped his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him and Spot. Mush and David followed suit.

From behind them, Tyler sniffed. Honey turned to him, her eyebrows raised at the tears on his own cheeks.

Tyler fanned his eyes, "damn it, I'm such a sap."

Honey laughed and wiped her face. Mush pulled her to him, his other arm still wrapped around his brothers.

After they left the pub at closing and clamored up the apartment stairwell, they stayed up all night, Specs, Bumlets, Boots, and Snoddy joining them from the other apartment. The honesty between them was a relief the guys didn't know they needed…to be heard and believed. To let their guards down. To feel a little less crazy.

Whether Honey and Tyler felt more or less crazy was up for debate. They began asking questions, enjoying the look of recall on the guys' faces, their gazes awe-struck.

"Wait wait wait, you're saying you saw the Washington Square Arch being built?" Tyler looked like his head was about to explode as the guys laughed at him warmly.

"Sonny, I stuck my gum to the old broad," Racetrack said, the guys' roaring filling the apartment. "'s probably the oldest gum in New York! Ain't that right, Cowboy?"

Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "I dunno, that one I stuck to the Statue of Liberty's torch might beat yours."

They laughed harder, Honey covering her mouth as she leaned into Mush.

They welcomed the laughter, despite the heavy conversations they floated in and out of over tea and joints.

"How will she… 'wake'?" Honey asked them, searching their faces as the old sadness turned over in their eyes. "...will Cage – will Kid Blink ever –?"

"We don't know," David answered quietly.

She glanced at Jack, but he was looking out the window, watching the snow still falling, his thoughts far away.

They pointedly avoided the topic of Jazzi…Mush guessed that, for once, Honey feared the truth.

One by one they went to bed. Mush threw a pillow and blanket to Tyler on the couch while Honey set up her cards on the coffee table…they left her to it, the look in her eyes warning them not to distract her. Tyler peered over her shoulder before fading off to sleep.

For the first time in years, Jack dreamt of nothing while he slept. Perhaps the emotional exhaustion had finally gotten to him, or maybe Honey put something in the cup of tea she had made him drink before he went to bed.

He left the apartment a few hours before the others were up, careful not to wake the bodies on the couches; Honey and Mush were tangled in each others' limbs, her cards still laid out on the table while Tyler snored under a blanket. Spot fell asleep in the desk chair again, his feet propped on the back of the couch. Always the one closest to the door.

Jack felt tempted to look at the cards on the table...but thought better of it, not wanting to spook himself.

He texted Kat after Boots dropped him off on campus, wanting to see her before he and the guys declared the studios completed that afternoon. He waited outside the café, snow swirling around him and the students. The Winter Gala was this weekend…

It felt like only yesterday was her birthday…

He closed his eyes, remembering her clearly, the way they'd been in the private box. The memory tore him apart and kept him going all at once.

He wanted this meeting with Agent Martin. He wanted to ask him himself if he could promise – guarantee – her safety against the Wilks.

"He may not be able to make that kind of promise, Jack," Kat said gently as she leaned towards him over their coffees, her hand on his thigh.

They sat in the middle of the biggest studio, the wooden floors gleaming. Sunlight streamed through the windows and reflected off the mirrors along the walls. The warmth didn't deter the swirling snow outside, the gray clouds darkening over the city.

"Not jus' her safety," Jack said as he looked at Kat's tired eyes. He slid his hand over hers, her breath catching as she understood what he said.

"I'm going to work a deal for Kid…even if he doesn't know."

"…could – could that really work?" She read his eyes earnestly. "Can you really do that, Jack?"

"I gotta try," he said softly. He didn't want to think of the alternative, if he was hauled off with the rest of the scum…

His heart broke as her eyes became glassy. She touched the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Forgive me…I know this isn't easy for any of us." She laughed humorlessly. "I'm surprised I still have tears to shed."

He gripped her fingers. "Have ya been stayin' with Medda?"

She nodded. "She's been so wonderful to me. I don't know what any of us would do without her."

He smiled tenderly at her. "Whatever deal I can make…they'll require his cooperation. To snitch on the Wilks, the club."

Kat shook her head dejectedly, her gaze far away. "He'll never agree."

Jack sighed. "Jus' gotta hope tha knucklehead wakes up soon then."

Kat gave him a sad smile as he lifted her hand to his face, pressing his lips to her knuckles.

The guys showed up, shouting in surprise at the sight of Kat in the bright new dance studio. They pulled her into rib-crushing hugs and kissed her face before she left to meet the group she would travel with to France in the Spring.

Jack hoped for her sake…Kid Blink would come home before that.

Steve came in with donut boxes held high, congratulating them on the finished studios. He gave them his stamp of approval, shook Jack's hand, and told them he'd contact them sometime next week with their new gig. Jack felt strangely disappointed to have completed the job, his only reason for being on campus.

Snoddy clapped him on the shoulder. "We got this Jack, if ya wanna get to the Square a bit early, ta beat traffic."

"When did you get ta be Mr. Responsible?" Specs scoffed. Snoddy pulled his hat down over his glasses.

But Mush nudged Jack. "Come ta Medda's after."

"At least send me a damned text so we know ya haven't been knapped, huh?" Racetrack said with a scowl as he typed away on his phone. "Damn thing, TEXT SPOT."

"Race…" Bumlets took the phone from Racetrack's hands and turned it right side up.

"I hate this fuckin' thing."

The Square was busy, per usual.

Jack fought not to stare at the flashing screens all around him that changed with ads and videos every minute, the hundreds of tourists, and the constant hum that was deafening like being in the middle of a thriving bee hive. It was easy to get swept up in it…he preferred it the old way when it was 'Longacre Square' and full of horseshit.

He went to the spot Mush repeated to him, the newsstand in front of the Apple store…there was a man in a trench coat eating a hot dog…was he supposed to look for an earpiece? A suspicious lookin' scabba? What was his clue?

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets, the sky above them darkening but the signs and buildings as bright as the inside of a fluorescent bulb. The snow pushed against the sidewalks was gray sludge, and locals and tourists bustled everywhere.

He went to the newsstand and scanned the papers. Maybe he should pretend to read one as they did in the pictures –

"You'd be hard-pressed to find a copy of The World these days," a casual voice said beside him. "Pulitzer never truly learned his lesson after the strike….the paper didn't last past 1930."

Jack froze, his eyes staring at a headline he didn't read.

"An original printing would pull a small fortune now. Ironic, isn't it?"

He heard the slight smile in the man's voice…a voice he hadn't heard since –

He turned and knew the height at which the man's eyes would be, crinkled slightly as he grinned at him warmly. But his eyes held that knowing, that familiar sadness.

The neon signs covering the Square seemed to spin as Jack took in his face – he sounded, and looked, almost exactly the same. Jack half expected to look and see his fingers covered in printing ink. His hands felt clammy.

The man didn't seem shaken at all as he scanned the headlines, his voice low enough for only Jack to hear.

"I learned a long time ago, that sometimes all it takes is a voice, one voice that becomes a hundred, then a thousand, unless it's silenced. A young man and his friends showed me the truth of that statement against one of the most powerful men in New York City."

The man smiled to himself and continued in that familiar relaxed tone.

"It was only recently that I met a young woman who reminded me of that young man, so much so that I convinced the most powerful agency in the country to back her. In my wildest dreams, I never expected the two to know each other, let alone in the same era. Makes me wonder what they could accomplish together…it almost sounds like…destiny."

He looked up and met Jack's eyes.

"Cliches are frowned upon in the news world, but nothing else seems to fit."

He smiled wider at the unbridled surprise on Jack's face.

Jack felt like he would fly away over the city, his shoulders suddenly lighter than before, almost crazy enough to hug him, his friend - but he knew hugging a federal agent in the open was probably not the smartest move. His chest swelled as he took a deep breath, steadying his hand as he picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal and paid the cashier.

Jack looked at a picture of the Wilks brothers on the front page before meeting the man's easy-grinning eyes.

"Looks like we gotta thing for goin' up against the most powerful men in the city, Denton."

The man, Bryan Denton, Agent Martin, smiled at him. "Yes we do, Mr. Kelly."