Author's Note: Yeah, when I said that the last chapter was the hardest to write, that's before I had to encounter a bit of racism and death. Death is hard to write, I tell ya. And Gabriel? Definitely not the good big brother he ought to be. If it wasn't for the fact that we already know what happens to Rip when he 'grows up', I would feel kinda bad for him. At least I'm giving him a lot of reasons to turn into such a jackass later on in life. I just hope I get to give him a happy chapter sooner or later or he might turn on me.

Disclaimer: These are always mandatory when dabbling in fan fiction. If there is anything at all that is reminiscent of the 1992 musical Newsies, then it probably belongs to Disney. The characters of Luke/Rip & his family, Caitlin/Spindle, and Jessa, specifically, are mine, as well as others that may work their way into this story. Any others belong to their respective authors and will be noted in individual disclaimers.

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A Virgin's Touch

06.14.06

They say that what men desire is a virgin who is a whore.
Maybe that's what I was looking for. It's what I made her, after all.

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PART V

The taunts about Gabriel rang in his ear. How dare she? How dare she bring up my brother at a time like this, he thought and went tense under her touch. His icy eyes, devoid of the lust and emotion that had been there moments ago, narrowed in disgust as he watched one of her thick fingers fluidly move around his chest. Her proximity only made him feel dirtier. I have to get out of here.

But Daisy, it appeared, did not seem eager to let him go. He was soft and, if there was something that she enjoyed, it was breaking in new customers. She had to show him a good time in order to get him to come back; that was how she had hooked Gabriel Divenize. Bittah had, innocently, brought her new male friend around to the bar and, just as innocently, introduced him to the girls who worked the upstairs rooms. It only took a tiny spat between Gabriel and Bittah – their relationship hadn't progressed as quickly as he would have liked; he found Bittah's hesitancy towards forging strong bonds so soon to be an excuse – coupled with a few free drinks thrown his way to get the eldest Divenize boy in her bed. Her performance that night kept him coming back.

She had a weakness for a dark and handsome Italian man. Her mother, as Irish as Red, had run off with an Italian she had met years ago. To Daisy, such a man represented danger, represented a taboo relationship. Gabriel wasn't her first; Luke wouldn't be her last. But, while she had them, they were hers. And she wasn't too anxious to let this one go just yet.

So, when Luke tried to shy away from her, she climbed on top of him. "Where are you going, Luke?" she asked, her voice low and simpering. A leg on each side of him, she squeezed his naked chest slightly. She reached down to remove the blanket that separated them and was surprised when Luke shook his head and smacked at her hand.

"I have to go," he said and tried to sit up, hoping that Daisy would get the hint and leave him be. She scowled and moved to the side, allowing him to get up. Much of the powder and rouge that had covered her face had melted due to the sweat she worked up; he could see her face more clearly now than before and was surprised that she appeared even younger now.

But she also looked a bit miffed that he was turning down her advances. She turned onto her back and laid on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "Well," she said, and her voice was now nasty, "that's two of you Divenize boys down. Why don't you bring the next in line down sometime? I don't mind them young."

This taunt stung deeper than the earlier one. He had already slid out of the small bed and was pulling on his trousers when she said it. Somewhere inside of him, he knew she was only saying it to upset him. She must have known Gabriel for longer than he had initially thought if the prostitute knew that there was more to the family. The start of a fierce anger began to well up deep within him and her tried his damndest to push it aside. The last time he had let a similar anger loose – the time when Sal Marano suggested that maybe Maria deserved to get murdered for being such a tease – he had caused one of his closest friends to have a doctor visit their home to care for his split lip and black eye. He didn't trust himself if he fell prey to his uncontrollable anger again.

Daisy did not take too lightly to being ignored by this boy. When he finished buttoning up his shirt and had just pulled on his second shoe, she reached out and covered herself with the blanket, debating on how to best get his attention. Something she remembered that Gabriel had told her in confidence one night when he was feeling vulnerable came back to her. I have one fucked up family, Daisy. My mother's nuts and my father is a drunk. Paolo does nothing but read and Tonio is a pimp with all his little girl friends. But its Luke that is the most fucked up, I'd say. He's always had some fixation with our sister. You know, Maria? The dead one? Yeah. If he could have, I think he would have done her. But Maria, she was too much of a good girl for this kind of shit. Then Gabriel had grinned that cocky grin he had – the grin he used when he wasn't masquerading as the 'good son' – and that was the end of that conversation.

She was hurt that this boy – this kid – was marking her as nothing but a whore for him to have and then toss aside. She needed to teach him manners. So, with a faux yawn, she turned her eyes away from him. "I see how it is, Luke. You have a thing for dead girls, I see." She glanced sideways to see his expression and smirked. The boy had paused just before leaving. "So Maria was quite a little beauty, was she? Its a pity someone did her in – I'm sure she could have made a bunch of dough riding the sheets. What do you think, Luke? Would she have made a good fuck?" Daisy knew that she might have gone a bit too far with that last remark but, honestly, what could a kid like him do?

Luke went stiff when he heard Daisy's offhanded comments. Maria? The mention of his sister was enough to cause the anger he was fighting to bubble out of control. He turned on the woman and jumped back into the bed. Like she had done to him earlier, he straddled the prostitute. Blinded by his anger, he didn't even see the small smirk that crossed her face. She obviously assumed that her ruse had worked. She was wrong.

He slapped her across the face one and, as her head reeled from the blow, the smile disappeared. She opened her mouth to yell for help but found she couldn't. Luke's hands were now wrapped around her throat and he was cutting of her voice. He couldn't stand to hear her voice anymore.

It wasn't until the hot breath from her mouth and nose stopped that he could remove himself from her. He moved away from the bed and took a few steps backward until his back made contact with the door. He looked over at the bed, waiting for Daisy to get up and yell at him for attacking her. When she didn't move, he moved back to the bed and poked her bare shoulder with his pointer finger. Her skin was slowly losing its warmth and he pulled his hand back at once.

The realization did not hit him right away. When it did, he, involuntarily, jerked back so that he was as far from her as possible.

Daisy è guasto. La ho uccisa.

Backed up against the wall, Luke couldn't tear his eyes away from her body. Even with the limited light given off by the candle, he could see the bruises forming around her throat. Her tongue was lolling outside of her mouth and she had expired without closing her eyes. The smell of the waste that had escaped upon death came wafting towards him and he began to breathe shallowly through his mouth.

The stare of a dead woman did more to him than a stare from any other woman alive. Her dark eyes were accusing and he had to fight the urge to run forward and lower her lids, just so he wouldn't have to see her stare. He knew, though, that if he did touch her again, he would lose it. There, in the company of the strangled hooker, he was already on the brink of destruction.

In order to keep control of himself, he did the only thing he could think to do. He dropped down on his knees and, folding his hands, he began to pray. His voice was low and hoarse and the words were interrupted by his dry heaves. But, nevertheless, he prayed for her:

"dio Tutto-potente e merciful, lodiamo a voi, Daisy, il vostro servant.
In la vostra misericordia e l'amore, si macchia verso l'esterno tutti i sins che ha commesso con la debolezza umana.
In questo mondo è morto: lascivi il suo in tensione con per mai.
Chiediamo questo attraverso Christ al nostro signore.
AMEN."

When he was done with the simple Catholic prayer for the dead, Luke did the sign of the cross and whispered three more words: Riposi In Pace. He was shaking at this point but it was no longer due to disgust at his actions. The prayer he had muttered in the darkness had done what it could to absolve him. The shaking, instead, was attributed to panic. What will I do if I get caught?

He drew himself up off of his knees and backed into the wall again. His eyes still inexplicably drawn to Daisy's corpse, he groped behind, feeling around with his hand. When he felt the smooth feel of the knob behind him, he grabbed at it and opened the door. Then, with one final glance inside the small room, he left the dead woman alone.

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The other door was still closed when he slid out of Daisy's room. Luke could hear sounds escaping through the thin walls that told him the room's occupants were busy. They mustn't have heard what just happened. He hurried past it and ran down the flight of stairs. Did he know that, a mere hour ago, when he walked up these exact stairs, that he was leaving all of his innocence behind? And, if he did know, would he have followed Daisy up anyway?

When he reached the base of the steps, he paused a second. Overwhelmed by a sense of guilt and fear, tears had found their way to his blue eyes. He wiped at them with his arm, the wetness seeping through his shirt. He used force to dry his face, enjoying the pain he was causing. It was that pain that kept him grounded at that moment.

Luke took a deep breath, trying to get the feel of her hot breath off of his skin. The feel of her clammy skin under his tightening fingers. She deserved it, the little voice in the back of his head said. She was a dirty whore who deserved to die. He nodded once and the tears stopped. The slight panic stopped. The conscience stopped.

His hand, no longer shaking, reached for the door. He stepped out into the bar. As long as I don't do anything suspicious, they'll never know. He closed the door marked 'private' behind him, pulling on it gently so as not to alert the other patrons to his arrival sans the harlot.

And, as he made his way out of the bar, his own self-preservation telling him he had to get out as fast as he could, he kept his eyes down. He didn't even stop to say a word to his brother, still sitting at the countertop, begging Red for a third fill of his drink.

At least Gabriel's too busy to see me leave, he thought as he slipped out the door. Once he was in front of the place, he turned to his right and then to his left. Could he really go home now? Stain his family with the fresh blood on his hands? Visit his mother or pray beside Maria's grave now that he was destined for Hell?

With a firm decision, and a silent farewell, Luke turned to the right.

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He didn't realize it when his walk uptown landed him in another section of the City entirely. Luke should have known that after walking almost three hours in a single direction, he wouldn't be in the Tenderloin anymore. Nor, since he had gone in the opposite direction of his home – what would he have said to Gabriel about Daisy? That she slipped in the bed and somehow strangled herself? – was he anywhere near Little Italy.

It wasn't the change of scenery that, at first, alerted him to his surroundings. True, the buildings looked a bit newer than the one's he was used to, but there were the same amount of bums and squatters hanging around this area as there were downtown. No, it was when the color of skin changed, going much darker.

His head was still buzzing with the rush that overtook him at Daisy's words. This was the greatest extent of emotion he had felt since Maria – Riposi In Pace – and it scared him a bit. He hadn't been able to control his anger back at Red's Bar; when she had said those hurtful things, he had just snapped and jumped on top of the whore. He hadn't had any sense of control during that few minutes. Just the adrenaline coursing through his body and the irrational fury that clouded his mind was all he knew. One moment he was cringing in shame and covering himself from her heavily made-up eyes, and, in the next, he had thrown the blanket from him and, in all his glory, had straddled the girl, his thick hands wrapped around her neck.

While still heading down the same avenue that he had been treading since fleeing from the bar, he was staring at his own hands. How long have these hands, hands he had always known, been capable of taking a life?

It was at that moment that he was fully aware that he had entered a place he had never been. A dark hand appeared out of nowhere and pushed down on his. It was late, he knew – had to be well past midnight at this point – and, due to the darkness, he hadn't seen himself get surrounded by a gang of Negroes. When he glanced up in annoyance, he could make out their bulking shapes and the whites of their eyes. He tried not to let his surprise show at their silent appearance. He paused. "Che cosa desiderate, oscurità un?" Even they couldn't miss the bite that he put behind the Italian words.

The one that stood in front of him, the biggest one who had pushed at his hands to get his attention, sneered at the sound of a foreign language. Luke couldn't help but note that he could now make out the boys' eyes and teeth. "What you doing here, white boy?" His voice was deep and taunting. It was almost as if he was daring Luke to answer him in such a manner that would warrant the beating they were aiming to give him.

He looked over his shoulder and saw that there were two boys behind him, almost as ugly as the boy that had planted himself in front of Luke. Three to one. Even though he had crossed the line from brooding teenager to accidental murderer – I really am a murderer… I killed Daisy… My corrupted soul is going to burn in Hell for all eternity – he had no chance in getting out of this mess. If these boys wanted to take him down, he was going. At least I'll be with Maria again.

He felt a shove come from behind him. "Answer him, cracker," said one of the smaller boys. Obviously, it was the biggest one who was the head of this trio; the other two must be his back-up.

The push caused him to stumble forward and he bumped into the large boy. The black boy's sneer widened and with a growl, he shoved back at the smaller boy, hitting Luke square in the chest. This 'rough 'em up' ploy must have been something that they did in order to instigate a fight because, after Luke felt the pair of fists push him back, the other two boys side-stepped him and he continued to stumble. The second shove was done with much more force than the first and he couldn't stop himself. Without the expected barrier of the other two boys, Luke fell back onto his rear.

His hunch was justified when, after he landed, the two smaller boys leaped forward and grabbed an arm each. The one on his right landed a punch into Luke's gut causing him to stop squirming. They were then able to pin his arms down at his side and force him onto his back.

The leader of the three took a step forward and placed one of his dirty boots right on top of Luke's chest, keeping him down. "Now," he said and, despite the darkness, Luke could see him reach into his trouser pocket and pull out a small knife. The rusty blade glinted slightly in the sliver of moonlight that bathed the dirt road. The big monkey of a boy loomed over him and he could hear chuckles come from the boys at his arms. He could see that the boy was as ugly as he assumed him to be, with fat cheeks – one with a three inch scar that traveled down it, meeting his chin. "I'll ask you again, white boy. What are you doing in Harlem?"

Harlem? Il mio Dio. The almighty is already serving me my just punishment for that whore's death.

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Translations:

Daisy è guasto. La ho uccisa. – Daisy is dead. I've killed her.
Riposi In Pace – Rest in Peace
dio Tutto-potente e merciful, lodiamo a voi, Daisy, il vostro servant. - All-powerful and merciful God,we commend to you, Daisy, your servant.
In la vostra misericordia e l'amore, si macchia verso l'esterno tutti i sins che ha commesso con la debolezza umana. - In your mercy and love, blot out all the sins she has committed through human weakness.
In questo mondo è morto: lascivi il suo in tensione con per mai. - In this world she has died: let her live with you for ever.
Chiediamo questo attraverso Christ al nostro signore. - We ask this through Christ our Lord.
AMEN. - Amen
Che cosa desiderate, oscurità un? - What do you want, dark ones?
Il mio Dio – My God