Shorter chapter than usual but the next one will make up for it!

Enjoy!


Jack finally reached the rooftop of the lodging house, breathing heavily as her heart pounded. Ever since she spotted Snyder, ever since she saw him beat Crutchie, she couldn't stop shaking. That moment had brought forward so many bad memories of the Refuge; so many times when she didn't know if she or the other kids would make it to the next day.

It terrified her that Snyder and the Refuge still had that effect on her.

She collapsed on the ground as she tried to catch her breath, tried to calm down.

He won't get you here, she kept repeating to herself. He won't put you back in that prison… He won't… He won't… She tried to keep those thoughts going but the memories kept resurfacing, making her shudder horribly.

"Think of something else," she said to herself. "Anything else."

However, she then then spotted Crutchie's few items and tears sprung to her eyes. She may have escaped the Refuge but Crutchie was being dragged there at that moment.

And it was all her fault.

Her big mouth and dumb ideas got her best friend thrown into that godforsaken place. Her newsies were beaten by the bulls AND cops and where was she?

Running away, hiding, terrified, like a coward…

She buried her face in her hands as she sobbed, trying to not make a sound to not alert anyone that she was there.

It's all MY fault! Guys are fightin', bleedin', fallin' all thanks to good ol' Captain Jack…

Crutchie's calls for help, calls for HER specifically still echoed in her head along with the cries of her newsies as they took hit after hit from the adults.

MY fault!

"I just want to close my eyes and go!" she sobbed, curling up upon herself. "Let me go! Far away! Somewhere they won't never find me! And tomorrow won't remind me of today…"

She curled her hand into a fist, pounding it on the concrete. Why did she ever think they had a chance? Why did she think that a bunch of children would be able to take on the richest men in New York? Why did she ever put her newsies in harms way? Why wasn't she like the other leaders? Like Spot Colon? He put the safety of his newsies first.

What did she do?

With a final punch to the ground, she leaned forward, resting her head on the cold concrete as she sobbed out. "I should just get on a train that's bound for Santa Fe," she hiccupped, gripping her head. "I don't wants to keep runnin', to keep lyin'. I don't wants no fat old men denyin' me my pay…"

She sat back up, turning her gaze to the night sky above her. With a moon so big and yellow, it turns night right into day. Dreams come true, yeah, they do, in Santa Fe.

"Just let me go to Santa Fe…," she breathed, wiping the tears from her cheek. "I don't want to live and die here…"

Die… Her newsies could have died that day if the goons and cops were any more violent than they were. If more than just Wiesel had come with a metal bat, with any weapon.

And for what? A couple of pennies?

It ate at her from the inside, her insides turning on themselves, a pain she had no way of lessening. It was all because of her big mouth, her STUPID idea.

Who ever said I can't catch a break? Trapped here where there ain't no future, even at 17!

"Why?" she gasped out, glaring at the sky. "I can't spend my whole life dreamin', can I? Though I know that's all I seem inclined to do!" she yelled, shaking her head violently. Dreaming of Santa Fe, of a better life.

Of Davey.

Nothin' will change, nothin'! Stop dreamin'! she thought angrily. "I'm not getting' any younger and I wanna start brand new! I need space! And fresh air! Let them laugh in my face, I don't care! Just save my place!" she cried out, curling upon herself once more as her body shook.

Just be real, is all I'm askin', she thought as more tears flowed down. Not just some paintin' in my head.

"'Cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today…," she whimpered. "I've got nothin' if I ain't got Santa Fe."

It was the last glimmer of hope she had.

She had lost Crutchie to the Refuge. She failed her newsies. Their strike failed. They got hurt.

It was all her fault.

She had nothing left to hope for but Santa Fe.

She choked as she sat up, glancing around the rooftop. She knew she couldn't stay there. The others were sure to look for her there, to yell at her, to blame her and she couldn't face that.

She struggled to get to her feet and, once she did, she made a beeline for the ladder of the fire escape.

She needed to leave.

And maybe never come back.

Because she may put on a brave façade for the others but, at the moment, she felt like the terrified 8-year-old she had been so many years ago, the person she promised never to be again.

She did what she knew best to do: run.


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