Here's the next (much longer!) chapter!

I hope you enjoy!


Jack slid to the ground as she stared at the letter Spec had given her. He had managed to find her, much to her dismay, and had handed her a letter, saying it was from Crutchie. She had thanked him but hadn't stayed long to chat, scared that if she did, he'd start blaming her for what had happened.

She had then found a deserted alleyway and tucked herself away to try and read the letter.

She just stared at it for the longest time, scared as well as relieved. If Crutchie had written to her, that meant he was alive. However, she was scared of what he had written…

Had he seen her? Terrified and unable to help him? Did he blame her for this mess? For the failed strike? For the newsies getting injured? For him being in the Refuge?

Did he never want to see her again?

Jack stared at the letter for a while longer before taking a deep breath and opening the paper quickly.

Dear Jack,

Greetings from the Refuge. How are you? I'm okay. Guess I wasn't much help yesterday… Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch. Oh yeah, Jack? This is Crutchie by the way.

It was a choked sob that escaped as Jack read that first line, how her friend needed to specify who it was… She couldn't understand though how he could put even a hint of blame on himself for what had happened yesterday. If anyone was to blame, it was her.

These here guards, they is rude: they say "jump boy, you jump or you're screwed!" But the food ain't so bad least so far, 'cause so far, they ain't brung us no food!

Ha, ha.

Jack felt her heart clench at those words. Already she knew Crutchie didn't always eat enough and now…

Will he make it? She thought suddenly, the mere idea making her blood run cold.

I miss the rooftop, sleeping right out in the open in your penthouse in the sky. There's a cool breeze blowin' even in July.

Anyway, so guess what! There's this secret escape plan I've got! Tie a sheet to bed, toss the end out the window, climb down and take off like a shot! Maybe though, not tonight… I ain't slept, and my leg still ain't right!

Jack needed to stop reading the letter for a moment as she massaged her face, doing so almost roughly.

What did I get him into…? She thought, feeling tears prickle at her eyes. She quickly wiped them away, sniffling before returning her focus on the letter.

But hey, Pulitzer! He's goin' down! Then Jack, I was thinking we might just go, like you was sayin' where it's clean and green and pretty, with no buildings in your way and your riding Palominos, every day! Once that train makes-

There was a sharp line at the end of the 's', almost as if something had bumped Crutchie suddenly, almost violently. The next line didn't ease Jack's nerves…

Damn this place.

Something had happened, thought Jack, massaging her face as the hand that held the paper shook somewhat. As if knowing what those words would have as an effect on Jack, Crutchie wrote:

I'll be fine. Good as new! But there's one thing I need ya to do. On the rooftop you said that a family looks out for each other so tell all the fellas from me, to protect one another!

But I couldn't protect you, thought Jack.

The end.

Your friend,

That line was scratched out.

Your best friend,

Once again, scratched out.

Your brother,

Crutchie

And Jack felt tears prickle in her eyes at those last words. Brother. She didn't feel like she deserved that title, not considering how she had abandoned him in Newsies Square, how she just watched Snyder and the Delanceys take swings at him.

She buried her face in her hands, guilt and embarrassment eating away at her from the inside.


Miss Medda watched Jack for a moment from the shadows of her theater. She had a feeling her favorite newsie was hurting, emotionally and physically but Jack hadn't said anything about what had happened. All Miss Medda knew was that Jack was going to head off to Santa Fe after finishing her final backdrop, a goodbye and thank you present for the theater owner.

Squaring her shoulders, the older woman hoped this attempt to talk to Jack would at least get her some information.

Miss Medda approached, making her footsteps audible and she briefly saw Jack quickly fold the letter she had been reading and stuffing it into her apron's pocket.

"Here's everything I owe you for the first backdrop," explained Miss Medda, holding out an envelope towards Jack, "plus this one. And even a little something extra, just account'a because I'm gonna miss you so."

"Miss Medda, I…"

"Jack," cut in Miss Medda, moving the envelope closer.

Jack slowly grasped it, staring at it intently. She didn't want to take the woman's money but… she also needed to get to Santa Fe somehow. "You're a gem," she muttered.

Miss Medda smiled softly before putting her plan into action. "Just tell me you're goin' somewhere, not running away."

"Does it matter?" asked Jack regretfully, guilt worming its way up once more because she knew the answer to that question.

"When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else," explained Miss Medda, carefully eyeing the newsie. "But if you're running away, nowhere is ever the right place."

Jack kept her gaze stubbornly on the ground as she gripped the envelope tightly. She knew Miss Medda's words held a lot more truth than she let on and she doubted for a moment if her decision about going to Santa Fe was the right one.

However, she also knew staying in New York would be too painful.

"Hey! How about lettin' a pal know you're alive?"

Jack jumped in surprise at Davey's voice. He had been the last person she was expecting to see there, at the Bowery. He was the last person she wanted to talk to considering how much of a failure as a leader she had been. She just knew he'd be disappointed in her, that he'd be mad about dragging him and his brother into this mess of a strike.

She hadn't wanted to talk to any of her newsies after what she had put them through but she especially wanted to avoid Davey.

"Why don't I leave you with your friend," stated Miss Medda, smiling as she gave Jack a pat on the arm.

Jack, meanwhile, had stuffed the envelope in her pocket next to Crutchie's letter and scrambled for her paints. She just needed to cover them and then get out before Davey could figure out –

"Where did you go? We couldn't find ya," said Davey and Jack nearly jumped in surprise once more, not having expected him to have gotten so close so fast. Davey was already slowing to a stop next to her, a large smile on his face. "Hey!"

She avoided looking at him as she kept her focus on her paints. "You ever think I didn't want to be found?" she mumbled half-heartedly. She thought that perhaps putting up a front would push him away before he could yell at her.

"Not…?" Davey stared at her for a moment in confusion before his gaze was drawn to the backdrop Jack had been working on. "Hey, is that a real place?" he asked, glancing between the painting and Jack. "That Santa Fe?"

Jack continued to ignore him, wishing he would just leave her. If he did, she would be able to finish her painting so she could head off to Santa Fe and forget everything that had happened, to forget her mistakes, to forget what those mistakes cost her newsies.

To forget any chances she could have had with Davey: whatever hope she had concerning him flew out the window after the loss they took yesterday.

Davey stared a bit more at the backdrop before turning his attention back to Jack and the other reason he was there. "Hey, did you see the papes? We are front page news above the fold!" He held up the paper for her to see but she still didn't turn around. "Jack! Above the fold!"

And what did we pay to get there? She thought angrily, the words Crutchie had written still a fresh wound for her. "Good for you," she mumbled, adding some more details to the backdrop. If Davey wasn't going to leave alone any time soon, she might as well try to finish…

Davey dropped his arms in exasperation, not understanding why his friend was being so cold and so distant. She had been the main drive behind the strike since the beginning and he felt he needed to remind her of that. "Everyone wants to meet the famous Jack Kelly. Even Spot Colon sent over a kid just to say, 'Next event you can count on Brooklyn.'. How about that?"

"We got stomped into the ground," replied Jack bitterly, not knowing why Brooklyn cared to join the strike now. For Jack, it was over: she wasn't going back to lead her newsies into another bloodshed. She turned away from the backdrop, going back to her series of paints.

"Yeah, they got us this time. I'll grant you that," replied Davey as he followed Jack, kneeling next to her. "But we took round one and with press like this, our fight is far from over."

Jack couldn't believe her ears. Not only could she not believe that this was the same Davey that had been hesitant about even starting the strike but also that he thought they were winning. "Every newsie who could walk was out there this morning, sellin' papes," snapped Jack, forcing herself to keep her head down, "like the strike never happened."

"And I was right out there with them!" snapped Davey right back. He took a deep breath before continuing with a softer tone, "If I don't sell papes, my folks don't eat."

"Save your breath, I get it. It's hopeless."

Davey nearly rolled his eyes at her tone but persisted. He didn't know why Jack was so defeated but he needed to remind her that they were winning, that the fight wasn't hopeless. "But then I saw this look on Wiesel's face," he explained. "He was actually nervous and I realized this isn't over."

Jack rolled her eyes at those words. Why can't he just give up? She thought with a frustrated sigh.

"We got 'em worried," continued Davey. "Really worried. And I walked away. Lots of other kids did too. And that is what you call a beginning."

Jack took a deep breath, standing abruptly and turning away from Davey. She didn't care if Wiesel was worried. She just cared that her newsies were beaten to the ground the other day and she didn't know how many were actually able to work that day, to be able to walk away.

"Jack," called out Davey as he stood and followed. "Hey, come on," he reached out towards her. "What…?"

She moved away from his reach but finally turned towards him and he froze, eyes wide in shock as he stared at her face.

"You… You look like hell," he breathed.

She scoffed. "What, I finally clean my face and that's the reaction I get?"

Davey frowned at the joke. "Jack, seriously, you –"

She waved him off, knowing full well that she looked probably worse than she felt. She knew she had a cut above her eye that had swollen as well as having several bruises littering the left side of her face.

She had known all that and hence had refused to even look at Davey.

Davey, on the other hand, wasn't giving up so easily: he had spent too long alongside Jack that her stubbornness was rubbing off on him. He bridged the gap between them, grasping Jack's arms to keep her from turning away again.

"Can you NOT be so bullheaded for once?" he asked, trying to get her to actually look at him. "You're hurt and everyone thought something horrible had happened to you! I thought so too!"

Jack stubbornly kept her gaze lowered. "And why would you care about that? After what I put all of youse through?" she murmured with difficulty.

"With… what?" repeated Davey, confused. He moved his hands to her face, cupping it to make her look up at him finally. She grimaced as he put too much pressure on the bruises and he moved that hand away. "Sorry," he said quickly. "But, Jack, listen, if you think what –"

"There he is, just like I said."

Les' voice made the teenagers jump apart and Jack quickly made her way towards her paints, hoping that massaging her face would remove whatever blush had appeared on it. In the meantime, she needed to focus on something else.

Like the rest of the unexpected visitors. Not only was Les climbing down the stairs but Katherine was following closely. "For cryin' out loud, where's a fella gotta go to get away from you people?" she called out.

Davey, meanwhile, had sighed in frustration. He thought he could get through to Jack concerning the strike, concerning her hiding from them. He just wished he had told his brother to wait for him outside…

However, thinking it over, perhaps having Les and Katherine there would help him in convincing their stubborn leader about continuing the strike and even about their next step.

As well as getting his mind of the possibility – almost definite possibility – that Jack was in fact a girl. Even with the bruising and swelling on her face, Davey could see some distinct feminine features.

He began to feel stupid that he hadn't noticed it before because her face had been dirty…

Davey imperceptivity shook his head as he walked past Jack, heading towards his brother and Katherine and trying to get his mind back on the task at hand.

"There's no escaping us, pal," he said as he passed Jack, continuing from what she had nearly yelled out. "We're inevitable." Davey even went to lightly tap her with the newspaper he was holding but she decided, at that moment, to get up. Instead of hitting her arm or back like intended, he ending up hitting her backside and Davey nearly dropped the paper out of embarrassment.

Jack whirled around in shock, trying to understand what Davey had just done. Even with her flirty personality, she had never done something so forward. They stared at each other for a moment, both their faces growing redder until Davey managed to stutter out softly, "Sorry," before tossing the newspaper onto a stack of boxes.

Just in time it seemed as Les and Katherine had reached them and the younger one asked, "So, what's the story? Can we have the theater?"

As Jack focused her attention on her paints, rubbing her nose as she did, Davey cleared his throat and made his way to his brother. "Pipe down. I didn't ask yet."

"What's the holdup?" wondered Les, oblivious to what had gone on. "I need to let my girl know we've got a date!"

"Your girl?" repeated Davey as he stubbornly tried to keep his gaze on Les and not have it wander over towards Jack.

"You heard me!" Les moved away from his brother, looking mighty proud as Davey glanced towards Katherine, a questioning look on his face. She just shrugged, smiling in amusement. "I've been swattin' skirts away all morning," continued Les. "Fame is on intoxicating potion. And this here girl, Sally, she's a plum."

Davey stared at his brother in disbelief as he absentmindedly nodded. Meanwhile, Katherine made her way towards Jack.

Unlike Les, Katherine had noticed the two teenagers staring at each other in embarrassment and her inquisitive side began wondering what had happened between the two of them from the moment she had seen them from the rafters to the moment she and Les had reached the main landing. She tried to imagine a scenario that would have gotten them embarrassed as she approached.

Meanwhile, Jack eyed her for a moment before muttering, "Word is, you wrote a great story."

Katherine's smile slowly dropped as she took a good look at Jack and finally noticing the bruises. "Are you alright?" she wondered softly, her previous questions taking a back seat as she focused on her friend's injuries.

"Hey, Jack," cut in Les before Jack could make up a response, "where's that supposed to be? Is it Santa Fe?"

Jack glanced towards Les and did a double take, noticing for the first time that the kid's arm was in a sling. She felt sick to her stomach, realizing that her idiotic idea got in a barely 10 year old kid hurt. She should have gotten him far from the fighting earlier, quicker. She blamed herself, adding to all the other guilt she was carrying on her shoulders.

Katherine, meanwhile, had been eyeing the backdrop and, even though she was impressed with how it looked, she couldn't get over the fact that it was the infamous Santa Fe, the place that she had heard so many people wishing they could head to for a supposed better life.

"I gotta tell you, Jack," began Katherine with a sigh. "This 'Go west, young man!' routine is getting tired. Even Horace Greeley moved back to New York."

"Yes, he did," agreed Les. "And then he died."

Jack eyed Katherine, not appreciating the reporter butting into her business, especially concerning Santa Fe.

Especially concerning the only thing she had to look forward to.

"Aren't reporters supposed to be non-partisan?" wondered Jack with a hint of anger.

Katherine ignored the snarky part of the comment. "Ask a reporter? Pulitzer's had me black listed from every news desk in town."

"Can we table to palaver and get back to business?" cut in Les. Davey and Katherine shared a look, both knowing they had gotten sidetracked in the conversation, namely by Les asking about the backdrop but neither of them was going to mention that. "Will Medda let us have the theater?"

Davey sighed in defeat as he nodded several times, patting his brother on the shoulder to get Les off his back. "It's what I been tryin' to tell ya," explained Davey, making his way towards Jack. "We wanna hold a rally, a citywide meeting where every newsie gets a say and a vote. And, we do it after working hours so no one loses a day's pay. Smart?"

Jack just stared at him, unable to believe that they were on the topic of the strike once more. "Yeah, smart enough to get you committed to a padded room."

Katherine shook her head at Jack's negativity and brashness as she pointed to the backdrop. "The guy who paints places he's never seen is calling us crazy?"

Jack paused, looking past Davey and staring intently towards Katherine, anger boiling even more within her. "You wanna see a place I seen, huh?" Jack nearly stomped towards the backdrop, grasping the side and giving it a good swing so it would turn. She did that until the back of it was visible. "How 'bout this?" she asked, motioning towards the other drawing she had made of a large foot squishing a tiny group of newsies underneath it. "Newsies Square, thanks to my big mouth, filled to overflowing with failure. Kids hurt, others arrested!"

It hurt to say it out loud, to say that it was her fault but she needed to so that the others finally understood why she was so against continuing the strike.

"Lighten up! No one died," snapped Davey, beginning to have enough with Jack's pessimistic attitude.

Jack stared at him, mouth hanging open. "Is that what you're aimin' for?" she snarled, her fists shaking, the image of Crutchie in the Refuge clear in her mind. Davey was taken aback by the emotions oozing from Jack at that moment as he shook his head, not understanding what had caused that.

"No, no, no. Call me a coward," continued Jack, frowning deeply. "You call me a quitter. Ain't no way I'm puttin' them kids back in danger."

"We're doing something that's never been done before! How could that not be dangerous?" asked Davey, trying to get the Jack that had started all of this back.

Jack took a deep breath as she stared at Davey, not understanding why he was being so insistent, why he couldn't see that they were putting the kids in danger if they continued the strike. That they…

"Specs brought me a note from Crutchie at the Refuge," began Jack, trying to keep her voice even. "I tried to go see him. I went up the fire escape." She took a deep breath as the memory surfaced, reminding her of how much of a failure she was in protecting her newsies. "They busted him up so bad, he couldn't even come to the window," she snapped, her voice catching. "Now, what if he don't make it, huh?" Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes as she continued to stare down Davey. He, on the other hand, was focused on the ground, finding it difficult to listen to Jack nearly break down. "Are you willin' to shoulder that? For what, half a penny a pape?"

That, however, Davey wasn't about to let slide. "It's not about pennies, Jack!" he countered, going up to Jack. She took a step back as he did, turning away as she wiped her face, trying to hide any evidence of tears. Davey took a deep breath, his steps towards her slower and less agitated. "You said it yourself," he continued. "My family wouldn't be in this mess we're in if my father had a union. This is a fight we have to win!"

Davey went to grab Jack's hand but she pulled away from him. "If I wanted a sermon, I would show up for church," she barked, frowning deeply.

Davey took a deep breath, attempting to calm down. He realized the both of them couldn't start yelling at each other because it would lead them nowhere by the end of the night. He needed to get Jack to see reason, to see that, even though the entire situation was dangerous and unheard of, they needed to do it.

He figured it would possibly be a low blow but, considering she had used his father's condition to get him into the strike the other day, he would use something – someone – she cared about for the same reason.

"Tell me how quittin' does Crutchie any good?" asked Davey and Jack's eyes widened. Even she had not been expecting Davey to use Crutchie on her. She opened her mouth, trying to formulate… something but she came up empty. "Exactly," said Davey, pushing back the urge to smile at the success of his idea. "So, here's how it goes. Once we win and we will be winning, make no mistake."

Jack finally found her voice as she continued to stare at Davey in disbelief. "We'll be what?"

"We're already winning!" continued Davey to which Jack just rolled her eyes.

"Oh, right…"

Davey ignored the sarcastic response because at least she was listening to him at that point and not walking away. "And we'll tell 'em straight out they let Crutchie go or they keep getting pounded."

"Oh, Davey! What the hell!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Did they bust up your brains or somethin'? As I recall, we all got our asses kicked. They won!"

"They won the battle," specified Davey.

"Oh, come on!" cried out Jack as she whirled around and stomped away from him.

Davey rolled his eyes but followed her, keeping pace. "Jackie, think about it! We got them surrounded!"

Jack suddenly stopped, realizing what Davey had just called her. He had never called her that before. She eyed him for a moment, wondering why the change as a part of her feared that he may have figured out her secret.

Maybe she shouldn't have cleaned her face…

She quickly turned away and went back to the conversation in hopes that Katherine and Les didn't notice the change in her demeanor.

"Here's what I think," she said stiffly. "Joe's a jerk. He's a rattlesnake!"

Davey, thankfully, also didn't notice her staring nor had he even realized what he had called her as he came up next to Jack. "You're right," he agreed. "And you know why a snake starts to rattle?"

"No why?" she asked sarcastically, crossing her arms.

"'Cause he's scared."

"Oh sure," she replied mockingly.

"Go and look it up, the poor guy's head is spinning," added Davey, even going as far as to grasp Jack's head. She swatted his hand away, whirling around to face him. "Why would he send for the goons?" asked Davey with a triumphant smile. "An entire army? Dozens of goons plus the cops and…"

Jack sighed in frustration, realizing Davey was making a lot more sense than she had hoped. "You know, you may be right," she breathed out, conceding.

"Thank you, God!" called out Davey, happy that Jack was finally seeing his side of the argument.

"If he wasn't afraid," continued Jack. If Pulitzer wasn't scared of them and their cause, he would have just left them alone. He could have afforded to not have newspapers delivered that day: he didn't need to have others attack them.

"Exactly!" said Davey, excited.

"He knows we're winning."

Davey nearly jumped in happiness and resisted the urge to go up and hug Jack for finally pushing away her stubbornness. He settled for placing a hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze as he said, "Get those kids to see we're circling victory and watch what happens. We're doing something no one's even tried."

"And yes, we're terrified," added Les, coming up on Jack's other side and looking up at her. "But watch what happens!" Jack smiled sadly at him, patting his head.

Jack thought about the other day, how her newsies had taken a beating at the hands of the goons and the cops. However, she didn't feel the guilt weigh her down as much, knowing that she still had the support of Davey, Les, and Katherine.

Even of Crutchie.

"You can't undo the past," she muttered, taking a deep breath.

"So just move on," said Davey and she knew that they were heading in the right direction.

"And stay on track," added Katherine, coming up to the group. "'Cause Humpty Dumpty is about to crack!" Jack smiled at that analogy which made the reporter smile in turn. Katherine was glad that her friend was finally looking better. "We've got faith!" she said as she playfully punched Jack on the shoulder.

Davey watched the interaction between the 2 girls and could see how Jack was physically looking better. Not only had her injuries shown but her emotional guilt had seemed to be weighing her down. Now, however, Davey was seeing the Jack he had first met: the confident newsie leader with a big mouth.

Who, he finally conceded, was definitely a girl in disguise.

However, after everything that just happened, how long it had taken to convince Jack to join them once more, Davey was in no rush to test his luck in confronting her about it.

Well, he thought over the word and realized he didn't actually want to confront her, he just wanted to ask some questions.

Namely, why?.

However, he'd just have to wait, possibly until after the rally.

Which remind him…

"We've got the plan!" he added.

"And we've got Jack!" called Les happily, gripping Jack's hand.

"So just watch what happens." Davey stared intently towards Jack before taking a deep breath, pushing down the disgust of what he was about to do, and spitting into his hand. He held it out towards her and she smirked, knowing how much it bothered him. Without losing her smile, she spit into her own hand and shook his.

"We're back," she said before shaking Les and Katherine's hands.

Davey, meanwhile, wiped his hand off on his pant leg, trying to be inconspicuous but Jack still caught him, and she grinned in amusement.

"And I've got a date!" Les called out happily and Davey rolled his eyes, stealing Les' hat at the exact same moment that Jack smacked the boy with her own hat.

Les frowned, grabbing his hat back and whacking Jack with it, much to the amusement of the teenagers around him.


Let me know what you think!