Notes: Here we are, back to Angst!Dutchy. Also featuring Angry!Specs. Oooh, I am so looking forward to this chapter! I hope you all are too! Warnings for this chapter: 'sides the normal ones, attempted suicide! Yay! ::cheers:: Uh. Yeah. Don't mind me. Go read Carmen's fic "Smoke on the Horizon" for more cute newsies slash! (And an adorable Kid Blink!!)
Thank yous: Carmen (Jesschan! Yay! Thanks for the ideas and feedback!), Fatechan (Molchan! Editing fun!), and Wizesandz (Katchan! Feed my ego!) for all their help and betaing stuff. I love you all! ::glomps all three:: and of course: ALL THE PEOPLE WHO REVIEWED!!!!! ::hug for each of them::
Disclaimer: Guess who still doesn't own Newsies! ::raises hand:: Oh! Oh! Me!
Foundations
Chapter Three: Suffocated as I Fall
It was around midday when Dutchy began to get nervous. He had only been out for around two hours, and he had sold most of his papers. He suddenly felt a heated gaze boring into his back, right between his shoulder blades. He squirmed and turned around, trying to find the one that was staring at him, realizing as he did that he didn't want to know. Dutchy gasped as he recognized the sharp fox-like face of the man who had raped him brutally so many times.
He was grinning, his white teeth and sharpened canines gleaming in the sunlight, his thin lips stretched and pulled taut over his large mouth. You wouldn't say he was a large man, although his height reached the six foot mark, his limbs were too long and gawky looking. He was muscular in a wiry sort of way, and his hair was dark and thick, but too long and dirty. His eyes were the most startling though, a cool grey that never smiled, unless he was causing pain to someone weaker and more vulnerable than he. Jonas Archer. Arch.
Dutchy turned and began running at top speed through the crowd, pushing passerby aside, tripping over fallen debris. As he ran he heard behind him a noise like acid rain, like dirty snow, like ancient peoples fallen to ruin. It made his heart lurch, and his breath die in his lungs. Laughter. Loud, booming, laughter.
But still he ran.
***
Dutchy ran all the way back to the Lodging House, signed in with shaking hands, and went upstairs. He entered the bathroom, splashed his face with water, and looked at the clock, the hands read one fifteen to the silent room. He was still shivering, the after effect of meeting up with Arch. He stumbled to his bunk, thankful he was on the bottom, and collapsed onto it. His entire body shook; he pulled his knees up to his chest, where they hit against his chin repeatedly, causing him to clench his teeth. ''E knows where Ise is. 'E knows how ta find me. 'E knows Ise can' fight 'im.' Wrapping his arms around his shoulders, he hugged himself tightly until the tremors stopped. Then Dutchy sat up on his bed and toed off his shoes. He wound his fingers into his hair, pulling it over his eyes. 'Last time, my las' resort was ta run away, but 'e was determined to fin' me even then, and 'e did. Ise can' do that again, it wouldn' do anythin'. What should Ise do?' His features took a grim cast. 'Ise nevah gonna let 'im take me back dere, even if I 'as ta kill myself ta do it!'
Realization dawned on him then, just how easy it would be to escape Arch's grasping talons. All he had to do was rid the world of himself, it's not like anyone would care much, even the other newsies. 'No dreams, no panic attacks, no livin' in fear (no livin' at all, his brain told him.) No rape, no repeated violation, no humiliation. No nuttin'.' He had run out of options, he knew that Arch would not lay off him for long. He had no more time, he had to do it now or he wouldn't have the courage to go through with it. No one had ever cared enough; no one had ever tried to find out what had happened, why he was pulling away. Well, with the sole exception of Specs….'do Ise really wanna do dat ta him? He's done nuttin' but good fer me.' He steeled his nerves, he didn't have a choice. He had to go through with it or deal with Arch. Vaguely he wondered what it would be like to be dead, if there was something after. 'Well, it can' be any worse than this…' Dutchy didn't believe in a higher being, he didn't believe in Angels. 'If dere was Angels, or a god, why would dey condemn me to such a life? It don't make sense. Gods is supposed ta be all forgivin' an' kind, why can' I get any of dat?' He shook his head, his hair flying an all directions, and then stood. He realized he wasn't exactly sure how to kill himself; he couldn't stand blood, so slitting his wrists wasn't an option. Throwing himself off the top of the building would hurt, but wouldn't guarantee death. He figured that his best bet was to hang himself, so he began to look around for a suitable piece of rope. His eyes fell upon Jack's old rope belt, sitting on the small table by Jack's bed. He had stopped using it, but kept it for old time's sake. 'Perfect…' He picked it up and straightened it out and walked back into the bathroom. He found his mind curiously blank, as he tied the rope in a makeshift noose.
He felt numb, almost as if in a dream, not pain free, but just as if the pain were faraway. There would be no pain soon, he would be in oblivion. He stood on a stool and fastened the long end of the rope to one of the rafters, tugging on it to make sure it was secure. Taking a deep breath he looked around him, at the sunlight streaming in through the windows, at the worn and used bunk beds, at the rusty water tubs and the dirty sinks. This was his home; could he really leave it like this? 'Youse desperate, dis's your way out. There is no udduh way. Youse knows dat.' He nodded to himself in a deciding manner and slipped his head through the loop in the rope, sliding the knot down so that it touched the base of his neck. As he prepared to kick the stool out from under his feet, he looked up for one last glance at his life.
And saw Specs staring at him, wide eyed, in the doorway.
He kicked the stool.
***
'The headlines is unusually good t'day.' Observed Specs to himself as he sold his last paper. He made his way back to the statue and looked at his pocket watch. It was ten after one, and he was starving. Some of the other boys had finished selling already and were hanging out around the statue. Skittery was talking to Snoddy, Jack was sitting, and looked as if he was deep in thought, and Kid Blink was talking to Mush and Bumlets, his arms around their shoulders. He trotted over to join them.
"Ehy guys! Anyone 'sides me hungry?"
"Yeah, starvin'," answered Blink loudly, "Ise says we 'ead ovah ta Tibby's an' get some lunch!" Denton paid for them to have a tab there, seeing as they couldn't pay for it on their own.
"I'll meet you guys dere, I'm gonna 'ead back ta da Lodgin' House. I 'ave ta get somethin'." He had a small stash of money under his mattress that he wanted to get before they all started to play poker.
"Okay, we'll see ya dere den Specs." said Mush, and they turned to leave. The trip back was not long; he got there at maybe one twenty, one twenty five. He trudged up the stairs and he looked over into the bathroom and-
He stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening at what he saw. Dutchy with a rope around his neck, Dutchy was going to hang himself….He saw the blonde's muscles tense as he readied to kick the stool out from underneath himself. Specs took off at a run; he knew that the snap of the taut rope could break Dutchy's neck. He grabbed at Dutchy's legs, holding his thin body upright, keeping him from hanging. Dutchy tried to struggle out of his grasp, but the rope around his frail neck limited his mobility and the arm around his legs kept him from kicking. Here Specs was in an awkward position, he wanted to reach the small knife in his boot, but he had to be careful, it wouldn't do to fall over. He carefully stood on one foot, bringing his left boot as close to his chest as possible, and pulled out his knife. Reaching up with his left arm he sawed the hanging rope with the blade of the dagger, catching Dutchy's body when it finally broke. For the second time in twenty-four hours, he was holding Dutchy. Easing the blond boy to the floor, he sheathed his blade, kneeled, and sighed deeply. He felt both relief that Dutchy hadn't succeeded, and anger that he had tried it in the first place. He suppressed both emotions and stood up. Dutchy sat up hesitantly, pulled the noose off of his neck, and dropped it on the floor beside him. Specs then picked it up and hurled it across the room, in a surprisingly violent gesture. Dutchy started and looked at Specs, whose eyes had darkened with anger.
"Youse got no right ta stop me-"
"Ise damn well got da right!" Specs interrupted, his demeanor tense. "How could ya do dat? Ta yourself? Ta da rest of da newsies? Ta me?" His voice softened, becoming serious, and laden with suppressed emotion, "I t'ought Ise was yer frien'" It seemed that the brunette had hit a nerve, Dutchy jerked his head up and he hands spasmed in their place clenched on his knees.
"Youse are!" Dutchy hastened to reply, holding out an arm to emphasize his point, before lowering it and looking at the ground. "I jus'…. I didn' know what ta do…" he seemed to loose all will to argue, and looked up at Specs with wide eyes. "Ise…why'd you stop me?"
"'Cause I care abou' you, Dutchy. I couldn' jus' watch you die…!"
"I wish you'd let me die!" Dutchy burst out, his voice edged with hysteria, "Then 'e couldn' hurt me anymore!" As if remembering emotions that went with those words, Dutchy shuddered, and made his way back to his bed, where he lay staring at the ceiling.
As much as Specs poked and prodded, he couldn't get Dutchy to say another word. His mouth was still sealed.
Specs silently wondered who "he" was.
***
End Comments: And Jonas Archer is finally revealed! ::cheers:: this was a fun chapter to write! (Even if it could still use some tweaking…) Next chapter is back to Jack and Spot! ::bounces:: Now let's just see if I can get my act together.
