Race sat outside Jack's room for almost an hour. Tears burned his eyes and threatened to fall, but his cheeks stayed stubbornly dry. He was getting tired. "How does Jack do this everyday?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes. In between making sure everyone was healthy, fed, and safe everyday and checking on Jack and Crutchie, It felt like he had the world on his shoulders. Then his pessimistic thoughts were interrupted by a muffled coughing fit from behind the door. Race groaned and he stood up. He retrieved the two glasses of water and slowly pushed open the door.
"That better not be you coughing, Crutchie. I don't know if I can deal with you bein' sick right now," Race said, exhaustion seeping into his voice. He set down his glass by the door and moved to hand Crutchie his. "Here ya—," He began, then Race's eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and the glass of water slipped out of his hand, shattering on the floor.
"J-Jack," he stumbled on his words. Jack eyes were open, the sharp green dulled by weeks of sleep. Race was sure he was hallucinating, but Crutchie confirmed it. "You'se awake," he whispered, smiling. He stepped over the glass at his feet and knelt down by Crutchie. A smile appeared on Jack's face and it made Race break into a wide smile. He felt Jack reach his hand around him and the older boy pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head. It wasn't too long before he fell back asleep and the soft sound of snores filled the room.
"Everything's gonna be okay," he whispered, mostly to himself but a little for Crutchie's benefit.
"Yep," Crutchie said with a wide smile, "Everything's gonna work out." Just then, the door opened and Medda rushed in.
"What happened, boys?" she asked, looking at the glass and puddle of water on the floor.
"He was awake, Medda," Race said and her eyes shot open.
"That's good," she said, sounding slightly out of breath. "That's good. Things are looking up, boys." Race and Medda started to clean up the mess on the floor, but they got distracted every time there was a change with Jack. He opened his eyes again two hours later, but he fell unconscious even quicker this time.
"We should probably let the boys know," Crutchie said a little while later, "Katherine, too." Race nodded and tossed the other boy his crutch.
"Hey Medda," Race said from across the room, "Crutchie and I are gonna go back and let the boys know what's happening." She nodded and finally finished cleaning up the glass as Crutchie and Race left the room. It took them only twenty minutes to get back to the lodging house. Night had long since fallen at this point and the two walked in silence through the dark streets. By the time they arrived at the lodging house, the only sound was the creaking of beds and snoring.
"Hey, boys," Race said. Tears began to prick his eyes when he realized he finally had some good news to tell them. "Hey!" he screamed louder. Groans echoed through building, but as soon as they saw who it was, the boys began to sit up.
"What's happening, Race?"
"Is Jack okay?"
"Jack, um, Jack…"
"Is he dead?" Romeo asked quietly and Race shook his head.
"He's awake, boys," Race said. "He's awake."
Shouts of joy echoed throughout the building, the loud noise making Crutchie wince. "We can go see 'im tomorrow." No one got any sleep that night and morning couldn't come fast enough. Finally, the morning bell echoed through the dark building, the only time Race had ever been glad to hear that harsh noise. But, then another noise began to drown out the bell. Race jumped at a loud knock at the door. He stared at the door suspiciously as if somehow he would be able to see through it. However, the door stayed just as opaque as ever, and Race eventually pushed himself off the bed. As soon as he pushed down the handle, the door was shoved open and he was pushed into the wall. The force had him stumbling, but he quickly regained his footing just in time to see several bulls and a man in a gray suit enter.
"Search the place. Find him!" the man was yelling. The bulls dispersed from the man's side and began to delve deeper into the lodging house, opening all doors and cabinets and glancing under beds. The newsies scattered then, disappearing through open windows and back doors. Then the man turned on Race and Race could see a dangerous fire burning behind his eyes. He stalked toward Race and wrapped his hand around the boy's collar. "Where is Kelly?" Snyder growled.
"What?" Race asked, shocked by the sudden turn of events. Snyder snarled and Race felt a fist connect with his face.
"I know ya broke him out. Where is he?"
"Jack's in the Refuge!" Race yelled, feigning innocence. "I ain't seen him for a long time."
"Ya really expect me to believe that?" Snyder yelled, and Race braced himself for another hit, but it never came. Instead the hand around his collar disappeared. Another hand wrapped around his arm and he was pulled towards the door.
"C'mon," Albert was shouting and Race started running.
"Ya can't run forever, kid. You are going to the Refuge. You and all your little friends!" Race could hear Snyder's frustrated screams behind him, but he never stopped. Albert kept a tight grip around his wrist until they finally stopped, panting with sweat dripping from their brows. Race collapsed to the ground.
"Snyder was there," he whispered. Then he tried to squash his fears like he had seen Jack do so many times. "Did everybody get out?" he said louder now, just managing to keep his voice even. Albert nodded.
"I think everybody made it out. I didn't see anybody in the house when I went back for ya."
"What about Crutchie?" Race continued.
"Finch carried him out. I think they went off towards Jacobi's." Race nodded and pushed himself off the ground. The duo traveled the streets of Manhattan until they had gathered all the other newsies outside of Jacobi's.
"We goin' ta work?" Blink asked from the back of the group, obviously still shaken up from earlier. Race took a deep breath. Jack, help me.
"Yeah, we gotta go to work. We just ended the strike. Pulitza' ain't gonna be happy if we miss a day a' work already. Everybody needs to sell in pairs. When both of ya is done, head to the theater. But make sure ya ain't followed. We can't let the Spider find Jack." The newsies nodded and they all paired up before silently making their way towards the distribution center. Davey and Les were already there when they arrived.
"What happened?" Davey asked after watching each of the normally-lively newsies sulk past.
"Jack woke up last night, and then Snyder showed up at the lodging house today. He was lookin' for Jack. We is gonna sell in pairs today. Take Les with ya and find somebody."
Davey's eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock. "He's awake? Is he okay?"
Race nodded. "I think so, mostly. We'se gonna meet at Medda's later, but make sure ya ain't followed." Davey nodded and the two went their separate ways as Race paired up with Finch, and Davey and Les joined Jojo. They ended up selling at Finch's usual place because Race didn't want to walk all the way up to Sheepshead. Selling seemed to take forever that day even without breaking for lunch, and Race and Finch had to take a roundabout route back to theater in order to avoid all the bulls. But finally, in the heat of the afternoon, they made it into the back room of Miss Medda's theater.
As they entered, a wave a cool air and a blast of noise hit them. Even in the middle of a rehearsal, when actors and crewmen alike were bustling around, Race had never heard it this loud. Race quickly realized they were one of the last ones to arrive. There was a large group of boys standing in a circle, surrounding something, but it was easy for him to guess what it was. And sure enough, there was Jack, sitting up on the cot, being bombarded by questions and statements as he was filled in on what had happened in his absence. He looked better even than yesterday. All the dried blood had been washed away and his bandages were now hidden underneath a clean shirt. His leg was propped up, and Medda had splinted it. His hair had been buzzed down, close to his scalp, and his sharp, green eyes shone with a brightness that Race hadn't seen in years.
"I wish ya coulda' seen it Jack. There was kids from all over the city all there for our strike… your strike."
"Yeah, we even made the front page again."
"So did you, Jack!" Smalls shouted excitedly. "Good headline, too. It sold real well."
"I did, huh?" Jack asked, smiling, obviously playing along with the young rugrat.
"Yep," Romeo responded. "For escapin' the Refuge. It talked all about your criminal activities. Very descriptive." Another amused smile covered Jack's face, but then his face started to crumble and tears filled his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Sniper asked.
"Nothing," Jack replied, wiping away his years, but not trying to hide them like he usually did. "Nothing. I just missed ya guys." All of a sudden, Race watched as his brothers seemingly attacked, tackling Jack back onto the cot. Race could see Jack's silent groan etched onto his face, but it was quickly covered up with a another smile as he was engulfed in a group hug. Several hours later, as the clock hit 8:00, everyone began to notice sleep clouding Jack's eyes, and, one by one, they dispersed until only Race was left behind.
"Snyder came to the lodging house today," Race whispered after a couple minutes of silence.
"What?!" Jack exclaimed, all of a sudden awake and alert. "What'd he do? Did he hurt anyone?"
"No, everyone's fine. He was lookin' for you though. I don't think I'se ever seen 'im that angry."
"This is my fault," Jack whispered.
"How—"
"He's gonna hurt all of ya and put ya in the Refuge. I need to- I need to…" Jack shot up off the cot, but almost immediately crumpled to the floor as he put weight on his bad leg. Race caught him and slowly lowered him onto the cot again.
"How are ya gonna do anythin' if ya can't even make it off that cot?" Race snapped. He immediately regretted his words as Jack flinched away, curling in on himself and moving his leg to the other side of the cot in order to obscure it. "Jack, sorry. Jack, that's not what- I didn't mean that, Jack."
"Yeah, ya did," Jack said, harshly. Race could hear tears shake his voice. "But ya's right. I can't do anythin' from here."
Race sat down next to him on the cot, and wrapped his arm around his older brother. They sat in silence for awhile until Jack was able to completely compose himself and Race's butt started to get sore. "We'll get through this, Jack, I promise." Then taking a deep breath and another long pause, he asked a more pressing question. "Does, um, is… is Miss Medda gonna trys to set ya's leg?"
Race could feel Jack stiffen besides him and, for a second, he thought he had overstepped. But then Jack responded. "Uh, um, nah. Medda says it'll probably just get worse if she tries to fix it. She was gonna take me to a hospital, but Snyder has bulls watchin' all the ones in the city. And no doctors'll do a house call for as little money as we can pay, especially for an injury this bad. She did her best to brace it so it don't get worse, but there ain't much we can do. She saids I might be able to walk on it after it heals, but I'se gonna hafta use a crutch for a while."
"Not a single doctor will do out of the kindness of their heart?" Race asked, sarcastically. They were orphans, the lowest of the low. No one did anything for them out the kindness of their heart (with the exception of Miss Medda, of course). Jack's scoff mirrored his thoughts. The silence returned, but it was broken much quicker this time by Jack.
"What is we doin', Racer?" Jack asked eventually. "How is we supposed to fix this one? Snyder's gonna find me soon or later, or he's just gonna keep going after you all."
"Then I guess we just have to get rid of Snyder," Race replied, offhandedly.
"How? He's got powerful connections."
"Especially with Pulitzer backin' 'im," Race muttered, all of a sudden, feeling anger fester inside of him for every single man who had ever looked down on them.
"So, we have to find someone more powerful," Jack answered, and Race could tell that his mask had fallen back into place. The older boy was trying to act stronger and more confident than he was.
"Like who?" Race asked, and for the third time that night, silence fell.
Who is more powerful than the Snyder? There's Pulitzer and Hearst. Maybe we could talk to Bill or Darcy, but their fathers probably wouldn't be very interested in helping without something in return. So who has more power than the wealthiest men in New York? Who would be willing to stand up for a group of orphans? Who can take on Goliath?
Race and Jack said it at the same time. "The governor."
A/N: So, I went back and forth a lot with whether or not to set Jack's leg, but realistically, someone like Medda probably wouldn't know how to set a bone, and, in that time period, its possible no one could.
Updates will probably be slowing down as finals and the end of school approaches.
