A/N: I started writing this in English class while we were watching the movie Selma, so if there's a bit of a sad undertone, blame that.

Disclaimer: Don't own Newsies

In his seventeen years, Specs saw a lot and experienced a lot. His life as a newsie began early - earlier than anyone else in the Lodging House to this day. He watched his brothers and sisters grow up and leave the life of a newsie to start their own family. He watched his brothers and sisters be taken to the Refuge, coming back broken. He watched his brothers and sisters die in gang fights and of disease. Specs saw more life and death than all of New York City, it seemed. It was far from a forgiving place.

When he was thirteen, Jack brought home another kid. A little kid, tiny and skinny. Jack always brought home kids he found and Specs couldn't count the number of kids that their leader brought into the Lodging House that died less than a few days later. Specs was no stranger to death, none of the newsies were, so when Lavender said that it would be a miracle if the kid made it through the night no one was shocked. Specs just sat by this little kid's bedside. This little kid that was barely a year younger and six inches shorter. He sat there, knowing full well that this kid probably wasn't going to survive, and something inside him broke. Something so deep that he thought it couldn't break anymore.

"You're stronger than this," he whispered to the kid, fast asleep. The kid that already found his way deep into Specs' heart. "Prove 'em wrong. Prove 'em wrong, little Romeo."

"Specs! Psst! Specs!" Specs couldn't help but smile as an all too familiar voice woke him from sleep. He pried his eyes open and tried to focus on the face in front of him. A slightly blurry Romeo came into view, smiling widely, filled with childhood energy. It was still dark outside, well before the morning bell would ring.

"What Rome?" He asked, voice still thick with sleep. Ever since the kid defied all odds and recovered less than a month ago he was constant, boundless energy. He was also inexplicably attached to Specs.

"C'mon, get up!" He whisper-yelled, pulling at Specs' arm. Specs huffed a sigh but sat up, feigning annoyance.

"It's probly four in the mornin'," he said, letting Romeo pull him out of bed and over to the window. "What's so important?"

"Just look!" Romeo said, throwing open the window and climbing outside. Without much thought, Specs followed. New York City was already starting to warm up from the bitter winter. The city was mostly quiet below them, but Romeo was looking up at the sky instead of down at the street. Specs followed his gaze, eyes widening at the sight above him. The moon was full, shining a bright gold instead of white. Little pinpricks of light were scattered around it, but the stars were mostly washed out by the moonlight.

"No wonder Jack and Crutch sleep on the roof so much," he breathed. Romeo didn't respond, eyes still fixed on the moon above them. Specs watched him as he watched the sky. His dark hair was streaked gold in the light, eyes shining brighter than any of the stars in the sky.

Specs was in love.

Years passed. More newsies aged out and littles joined their ranks or replaced those that left. Specs continued to name every single one of them, using old nicknames of kids long gone. In the end, things never changed too much. Even with new kids Specs still got up early and sold the morning pape and stayed out late trying to sell the evening before it was too dark. He spent a few weeks in the Refuge that he would rather forget, and money was still tight as ever. Still, it was his life.

Then things changed. One new kid with shining hazel eyes and an actual education caught Jack's attention as much as his heart. Then Pulitzer screwed them over. He stole those precious ten cents that could be the difference between eating and going to bed hungry. Davey and Jack rallied them to fight, and they did. They stood their ground, held their strike, and carried the banner. Specs wasn't exactly confident in their win, but he wouldn't give up home. Not when Bruiser laughed in his face when Specs asked if Queens would join them. Not when the bigger newsies told him to convince Brooklyn first. Not even when Jack said Brooklyn bailed and they were on their own. Specs knew that the boroughs were trying to protect themselves, but it still hurt.

They held their ground and convinced the scabs to stand with them for the greater good. It even seemed okay when they faced off against the Delancey brothers and Weasel. Hell, they even scared them off! But they came back. Morris and Oscar and Weasel and the strikebreakers and even the Bulls. They were done for.

Crutchie was in the Refuge. Race was one wrong word away from marching across the Brooklyn bridge to punch Spot Conlon's himself. Davey was broken. Jack never came back.

They were on their own.

Specs was trying his best, really he really was, but it was getting overwhelming fast. Anytime someone was hurt Jojo usually took care of it, but there was too much. Not a single newsie from the square walked away unharmed. Everyone was bruised or bleeding and there were even a few sprains and broken bones. Those that could did their best to take care of themselves but Jojo couldn't handle everyone on his own, so Specs volunteered to help.

He was starting to regret the decision. Albert snapped at him and now he and Race were out on the fire escape. There was something up with him, that much was obvious, but Specs didn't have the energy to try and find out. Race had a nasty black eye and Buttons was limping. Blink was a broken and bruised mess, Mush not leaving his side. Jojo was wandering around, stitching people up, but he was starting to slow.

Specs was curled up in one of the bunks, trying to get a few moments to himself so he could breathe when Jojo came over. It took all of his willpower to not give the younger boy a scathing look for bothering him. The taller boy ducked down to look into the bunk and tried to give him a smile. It fell very, very flat.

"Romeo wants ya," he said, voice weary and thin. "Won't let me look at 'im."

Specs nodded and pulled himself out of the bunk. He wandered through the bunkroom to find Romeo curled up on Crutchie's bunk. The bunk he used when it was too cold to be outside anymore. His usually wonder-filled eyes were dull, staring forward unseeing. Specs sat down next to him, not bothering to try to touch or talk. Romeo would open up when he felt ready.

"They took 'im," he muttered, eyes starting to well up with tears. "He called for me and I didn't do anythin'."

"Hey, there was nothin' ya coulda done," Specs said, pulling Romeo into his side. "He'll be okay. He's Crutchie."

"Where's Jack?" Romeo asked, silent tears running down his face. Specs looked down at him. He couldn't lie to him. If he said something and it turned out he was wrong the guilt would crush him.

"I don't know Rome," he said. Romeo buried his face in Specs' chest as he looked out across the bunk room. At the broken and battered kids that filled the space. None of them deserved this. It wasn't worth it. All of those kids hurt for a dime.

Truth be told, Specs didn't expect Pulitzer to give in. Specs didn't expect most of the things that happened that week. Jack stood there, looking down on Newsie Square, and told them they won. Pulitzer gave in and everything could go back to the way it was. They managed to bring so much unwanted attention to Pulitzer, even in the form of Governor Roosevelt, that he gave in. They won. They won. They cried their message across the city, rallying kids to join their fight, and they won.

Specs turned to the nearest boy, pulling them into a hug. Everyone was yelling and cheering, even Spot and the Brooklyn boys. They were all celebrating their victory. And if Mush pulled Blink in and kissed him, then so be it. And if Spot grabbed Race by the collar and did the same, no one had the guts to say anything. They were newsies. They lived by their own rules. The way anyone around them hardly stopped them from doing what they wanted. The strike was proof enough.

Specs walked home that night, tired after selling the evening edition and still drunk on their victory, with Romeo. Romeo was chattering at his side and Specs was content to just listen to him. Specs was glad to see that the kid got his energy back. It was terrifying when he was so subdued earlier. He hadn't been like that since he was a little kid dying in Specs' bed. Those were days that Specs never wanted to go back to.

All of a sudden, Specs was overwhelmed with emotions he didn't quite want to describe. Making sure no one else was around, he grabbed Romeo's hand and pulled him to a stop. The younger boy stared at him, confused. He was beautiful. Well and truly beautiful. Specs had never seen anyone like him.

"Wha-?" Romeo never got to finish as Specs pulled him forward and kissed him. It was silent as they broke apart. Specs was well aware that he could have just made a big mistake, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.

"I love ya too," Romeo said with a cheeky smile, pulling him down again.

Yeah, Specs was in love with Romeo.

And Romeo was in love with him.

His Romeo.