Disclaimer: Disney's, not mine. Don't sue the poor college student; you'll get nothing.
Author's Notes: Imagine any two newsies you want for this; I didn't have any in mind when I wrote it. This is for the 'Ladies, because I haven't given them (or anyone in this fandom, really) a fic in a long time, and they remember the Dark Ages. Any kind of feedback is appreciated, so feel free to leave it.
"The Lost"
Do you remember?
Do you remember when there were only shadows, and the streets had no moonlight? When the sky had no stars? When no window held a candle? Not a damned single one?
We lived in darkness, because that was the only way we could live. For us, everything, every aspect of our existence was darkness. We breathed it, even. It consumed us, because that was the only way we could survive at all. By letting it become us.
It was darkness, or it was death.
They did not understand. To them, a spitshake was a spitshake. Nothing could hold deeper meaning; they were incapable of understanding value. They never appreciated the feeling of fingers intertwined, of hot breath against the nape of a neck. They never understood the agony of never staring into another's eyes when you kissed, of feeling a body and knowing every line and curve of it by touch, but only knowing its face inside your mind.
Darkness gives no gifts, after all, and certainly none as precious as that. Fumbling hands lead to broken buttons and ripped sleeves. To questions--interrogations, really. To lies, to deceit, all the things that the darkness embraces. Darkness prefers to keep its companions close at hand.
And then, one day, the darkness went away, do you remember? I never thought I would miss darkness. I thought that seeing your face, your meaningful glance would make it all okay. But I never realized that with the gift of your face came the curse of all the others. Love, juxtaposed with revulsion…tell me, do you remember how that felt? It's as if you'll never find your pride again. And perhaps it was true. We could love in the light, but unlike the darkness, consequences were much more severe. We lost our humanity. True, we could see each other, but sight is not enough. Without touch to confirm -- we were nothing. Darkness would have been better than what we had.
God, I hate them sometimes. I know I've told you that. I hate their disgust, but even more, I hate their caprice. As quickly as their hatred came upon us, it left just as swiftly. Why do they do that to us? Why do they just assume that they are the driving force, the only winds of change? Why do they assume that they pulled us apart, tore us up like sections of a newspaper? Why do they assume that because we're no longer careless, that we're no longer sharing rough kisses behind the bedposts, we're nothing? In the blink of an eye, it was over. They gave us back our true names--no longer faggot or queer. We got our identities, the things we had lost, back.
Do you remember? Please, tell me you remember!
"Mmm, yeah, 'course I do…" your murmur, nuzzling against the pillow, but both of us know you don't. In that respect, I wonder which of us is luckier.
Go on dreaming your beautiful dreams, living your beautiful life in the light. I'll live it too, as long as you continue to let me lace my fingers through your hair while you weave the terrors into something forgotten. Soon, to you, the memories will be lost, blended back into the darkness we share. But I am not that careless. I remember the days when we were spat at, condemned, when secrecy was king.
But God, at the same time, I never want to forget what it looks like to see the moonlight spill across your naked back.
Maybe, for that, I would trade it all again...