Aaaaaa! I'm so sorry for the late update! However lockdown has taught me to hold myself accountable SO from now on I will be uploading a chapter every other week. Probably on Wednesdays.
Also thank you Mistiquecats and the mysterious Chelsea and Guest for your lovely reviews! This is my first time writing a story so it's all a big learning experience for me. You guys warm my heart and help keep me going!
I don't own Newsies, the only character that is mine is the lovely Lucy. She is my child. My fictional, traumatised, child. I love her a lot. Enjoy!
This was it. The big leagues. Jack had thought of a plan for Lucy to earn money for her stay and she was ready. Now, with Lucy's permission, Crutchie had divulged to Jack the reasons why their Mouse was so quiet. He told Jack about her fancy family, what had happened to them, as well as the mockings she'd received from the other kids in the Refuge before she had a chance to meet anyone kind out in the world.
While it made Jack mad to think that the kids he'd been looking out for had turned against each other, he quickly became too excited about Lucy's voices to think about it.
The kid could speak the way the richies spoke, and the way that the street kids spoke. If she paired up with one of the newsies she could sell to anyone high, or low. They'd have to do it without Weasel's know how, but that was easily doable. The boys would all just have to buy a couple extra, then meet Mouse nearby. They could work out payback later. Honestly, Jack was mad it hadn't occurred to him sooner to just meet up with Lucy after buying the papes.
Lucy was going to put on performances that would put the rest of the newsies to shame. Lucy wanted to put on performances. She had been pumped and ready as soon as that first streak of light came through the window.
It took a bit of convincing to get Lucy to wait outside while the boys collected their papes. In the end she didn't agree so much as she was begrudgingly distracted by Finch while the rest all bought their papes.
The only thing was this; he would not stop humming. It was a pretty kind of tune, like a lullaby. It was pretty and Lucy felt compelled to hum along, only she couldn't. The thought of her high pitch tones joining his smooth bass reminded her of screeching train whistles over a gentle hubbub. The piercing scream of a teapot left to boil too long. That and she had attempted to join in ever so briefly… only her vocal chords felt scratchy and painful.
Thinking about it, she hadn't properly used her voice in a long time now. Did she need it though? She could speak to herself in her head just fine, she didn't need to hurt herself making noises for other people that made her feel freakish and small. She didn't need to do anything for anyone. Why should she put herself out there for other people when they would not do the same in return?
Finch had sung a little lower when Lucy had initially joined in. He'd been straining to highlight that gentle sound, but she'd stopped singing almost as soon as she'd started. A little disappointed, but more concerned that the poor kid might be mentally beating on herself; Finch turned his hummed tune into an operatic melody, taking Lucy's hand and dramatically twirling her about on the pavement.
The pair received more than a few odd looks. Spinning around in the street without a care for what other people thought. It felt so unbelievably freeing. It felt familiar. Lucy felt a lightness she hadn't known for such a long time. She could almost picture her family's faces. She could see herself dancing on her brother's toes, but when she looked up there was no one there.
Finch had them twirling under each others' arms in unison, both stumbling over every step and loving every minute of it. She burst into a radiant smile, one that showed off her dimples.
Finch sang loud and proud; a nonsense melody, a not-quite waltz. Dizzy from the spinning he tripped over his feet and landed unceremoniously on the floor, laughing, and Mouse laughed too. A quiet giggle which turned to audible chuckling(!) when Finch started snorting between laughs.
They were really getting a lot of looks. Even a few points and whispers. Namely a point and whisper to a man in a blue uniform with a whistle around his neck and a bat in his hand.
Finch calmed down before Lucy. He was sitting in a kind of happy heap hearing her laugh for the first time, noting how she wasn't trying to hide her voice this time. The kid wasn't confident but she was cute, she'd sell her papes no problem.
"Mouse."
It was only just in his peripheral that he saw the Bull start to make his way towards them. The world seemed to slow as he turned to face that angry man. Turned to see his hand tightening on the bat. The bull's face morphing from feigned kindness to show the true determined hostility that lay beneath every one of them that the newsies had ever faced.
"Mouse we's gotta run." he breathed
By now the near silence from Finch had registered with Lucy, and while her smile wasn't gone that unsettling anxiety had begun to creep back in already. The process was only spurred on by the serious look on Finch's face.
"I… I, ah-"
His eyes snapped back to meet Lucy. Stare to stare. How could he forget that they'd been looking for her the first time they met? They could never leave good enough alone, he had to get her out. Away.
"RUN!"
Finch grabbed her arm and started running.
Where to go? The distribution centre was a dead end. Medlock's would be closed this early in the day. Katherine! Where would Katherine be? She could be anywhere! No time to look.
So they had to hide and hope for the best or… shake tail up and down New York. It was a toss of the coin. He was headed for The Lodge, but it wasn't close enough. Who would win that battle of endurance? The rotund cop or the malnourished child?
Finch could hear Lucy's laboured breaths behind him. Her grip on his hand was weak, and there would be no cunning manoeuvres pulled off with Lucy lagging behind. Finch himself wasn't big enough to carry Mouse while running, but he had to do something, but what?!
"'Ey Finch!" Never in his life had he been so grateful for Racer's tardiness. "Thought you'se two was supposed to be waiting outside for Crutchie? He's gonna be pretty mad at you sneakin' off" Despite their full blown pelt towards the oblivious newsboy, that mischievous grin remained solidly in place.
Finch would have smacked Race if there was anytime for it, "Take Mouse, i'll distract 'em! Go! Race GO!" He'd all but shoved the heaving girl into Race before turning back to distract the cop, cradling his newsbag like a child.
There was no time for his reason to catch up with his reaction, to find out what was going on. Muscle memory set in quickly; Race slung an out of breath Lucy onto his back and took flight down the road.
Once they'd made it a few blocks more without being tackled but whatever monster was supposedly chasing them, Race and Lucy came to an alleyway overloaded with crates and shadows.
When Race let her down from his secure piggyback to the open ground, he couldn't help noting the terrified frame of her face. Lucy had had a dull and sunken look as long as he'd known her, but now there was something bright and frantic burning away behind her eyes.
He took one of her small hands and guided her further down the alley. "Y'know they say runnin's the best way ta start the day. Ain't we lucky Mouse?"
Casting a quick look around again he tucked Lucy between a tall set of crates, pulling the nearby tarp over the gap between them. She barely blinked. The only move in her catalogue was a watery wide eyed shuffle.
"So… what we running from Mouse?" She stared unblinking ahead. We must be somewhere old, she thought. The bricks were worn, chunks of stone and cement littered ground. Something smelt damp. Like mould setting in. The crates were rough and splintering on either side of her.
"You don't have ta shout it to the rooftops, but I know there's a squeak in there." Race crouched beside her. He shot looks up and down the alley before settling his gaze back down to his cap in his hands, nervously twisted this way and that.
Her silence had never been a bother before. By all accounts silence was normal for Lucy, but the longer she stayed mute and frozen, the louder the anxiety became. It was a weight in his chest growing each second.
Race studied her once more. "C'mon Mousey. If I know what we're fighting I can raise the odds."
When Lucy had been perhaps six years old, she had discovered a wonderful game. She lived with her parents in quite a grand house. Every room, every item, was lavish. She could remember quite clearly that luxurious life. Her nanny had read her stories about mermaids, and back then she thought it would be so wonderful having a whole ocean to play in. Nothing would be better. When bath time came, she would always duck her head under the water and see how long she could hold her breath. She would open her eyes even though it stung because she thought seeing underwater was just something she had to get used to, if she were to become a mermaid. There was a moment when she first ducked her head under the water that her ears would fill with water and the sound was a quiet roar in her mind.
That dull roar and her stinging eyes had been such little things at the time, but now the feeling was so overwhelming. She thought, for a second, that this must be what it feels like to drown on land.
In his anxiety, Race had started to absentmindedly stroke the fabric of his cap. The tweed outside was rough to the touch, where the inside was smooth as anything. He ran his thumb along that soft material, finding a calm that seemed lost on the petite frightened girl across from him. Looking back to the hat in his hands he realised all the twists were gone, he'd smoothed it all out again.
Across from him Lucy began to cry. She choked and spluttered around the lump in her throat. Her hands furiously swiping at the sudden wave of tears.
He still didn't know what had really happened. Maybe she was afraid to go out. She hadn't exactly been confident around him or the rest of the newsies, it only made sense talking to strangers would scare her too. Or maybe the girl had enemies out there. Thinking about it, Race had only known her a few days and in that time she hadn't said a word. He knew she'd been in the refuge, but everything else about her was a mystery. He wondered where she came from. They all had reasons for not going back home. A lack of money, a lack of love. A lack of a home to go back to. Go. Run. What was she running from?
Race cast another look around the alley. It was busier at the of the alley now. Whatever they were running from, it would be hard pressed to see them through the crowds.
He sniffed and chucked his cap up, snatching it out of the air settle it on the unruly curls of a shocked Lucy.
"It's okay. Let's go home Mousey." He smiled.