Note: Okay, well here's the second half of the some-what prologue to the fic. In this chapter, we finish showing the movie from David's POV and start going in the direction that this beast will take. This is the last chapter with a T-rating. All the really mature stuff starts with the next bit – not that you won't enjoy this chapter, too. It's good (and important). Promise.
Disclaimer: The movie characters highlighted in this awesome piece of work, unfortunately, do not belong to us. They are owned by Disney (© 1992-) and appear here because we made them. But we're not making any money off of them, so it's all good. The original characters included were donated generously because their creator's had no idea what they were in for.
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These Brutal Streets
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PART TWO
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Jack, David learned again and again as the strike came closer to an end, was quite prone to changing his mind. When he said that he was looking out for himself, he had been telling the truth – it just turned out that, given the opportunity, he was pretty good at looking out for other people, too.
Though it had only been a couple of days since Jack swapped his Pulitzer-bought, hoity toity clothes for his stained undershirt and worn bandana, David still wasn't sure what happened.
That was understandable, though. For most of the rash encounter with the Delancey brothers, he had been a bit preoccupied with getting beaten.
He had been out alone at the start of that morning, the day after he learned that Jack had sold them out. He didn't see the point in meeting up with some of the others – he was not the only one stinging from their supposed leader's betrayal. So, rather than join up with the boys down at the distribution center, he had chosen to go off on his own.
David had risen early and taken to the streets before Les had stirred; therefore, the younger boy went out with Sarah on her lace deliveries. He was with Sarah when she accidentally ran into the Delancey brothers – and it was Les that drew David's attention to the scuffle.
Seeing his brother on the ground from down the street, David rushed forward and helped the boy to his feet. "What's the matter?" he had asked, very concerned. "Are you alright?"
Les hurriedly pointed into the nearby alley. "I'm alright. I'm alright. Help Sarah!"
David followed Les's finger and saw that Morris Delancey was groping his sister. She was braver than he had ever given her credit for; as soon as her eyes fell on him, she called to him. "Run Davey!"
Oscar Delancey was standing in front of her, as if he was the acting shield. He sneered at the other boy. "Yeah, run Davey. We got the best part of your family right here."
The taunts rang in David's ears. Though his common sense told him to stay put or, perhaps, call out for help – signal a passing policeman, anything – he was not listening to his common sense. Instead, he felt a fire in the pit of his stomach and snapped. Before he knew it, he had run straight at Oscar, his head aiming for the other boy's abdomen.
He knew Oscar had to be strong but he never expected him to be able to throw him to the ground almost as easily as a rag doll. He fell to the rough ground but, almost right away, Oscar had dragged him to his feet and started to hit him as hard as he could.
David could hear Sarah's shout coming from somewhere behind him. "Leave him alone… Stop it!" But Oscar didn't pay her any mind. Instead, he turned David around and got him into a hold where he was utterly defenseless. That's when David noticed that Morris had thrown Sarah to the side – he was now getting ready to hit him: with brass knuckles, no less.
He was waiting for the hit. He knew it would hurt – hurt real bad – and he was as ready as he would ever be. Morris was standing before him, repositioning the metal circling his fingers, laughing. He obviously knew it would hurt, too.
And that's when David saw Jack. As if he was his own personal guardian angel, Jack appeared out of nowhere just in time to whirl Morris around and punch him dead in the face – not once, not twice, but three times. Oscar, watching as his brother got pummeled, slacked his hold on David and David took the chance to elbow him in the stomach.
After kneeing Morris and tossing him into a pile of boxes, Jack reached for Oscar. "Remember Crutchy?" he asked, reminding Oscar of one of his more helpless victims. Jack, however, was not helpless – he butted his head against Oscar's before letting him to fall to the ground, beside his filthy brother.
David didn't really pay that much attention to what happened right after Jack helped Sarah to her feet. There were words exchanged and the two of them even shared a quick hug – he saw that, at least. The Delancey brother's hurried away, their tails between their legs as they shouted out frightened threats.
Jack had turned towards David and was helping him to stand, checking him over for any damage the others might have inflicted, when he heard the Delancey's make their escape. He turned around and made to run after them but a soft touch from Sarah stopped him. Les, following in the steps of his adopted hero, ran to the end of the alley and hollered out, "Run! Get outta here! Don't come back! You hear me?"
After David got over the shock of Jack purposely coming to his – their – rescue, he adopted a scornful expression. "What, you couldn't stay away?"
"Well, I guess I can't be something I ain't."
"A scab?" David said, almost mockingly.
Jack shook his head. There was a hint of a smile playing out on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
"No. Smart."
Things seemed to speed up after that. Despite his better judgment, David forgave Jack (as much as he could) – though much of that credit could be given to Les and Sarah. They were so impressed at the way that Jack had come running into the alley to save the day. David knew that he would never hear the end of it if he held onto his grudge.
That wasn't to say, of course, that David wasn't grateful for Jack's arrival. It was odd – ever since he came in and saved David from a vicious beating, David had been feeling way too… too something that he couldn't describe. He was sure it was just gratitude and, as they turned their attention to settling the strike as soon as possible, he pushed it aside.
It was a long night, that one. Sarah had, before David could stop her from meddling, given Jack Denton's article. As quickly as he read it he had snatched David by the arm and all but dragged him to see Denton. From there it was straight to the basement of the distribution center where the four of them – David, Jack, Denton and Sarah – worked on what would eventually sway the strike over in their favor: The Newsies Banner.
Much of the time between the encounter with Morris and Oscar Delancey to when Les finally was able to proclaim to throngs of waiting working children that "We beat 'em" passed by for David in a blur. It was only after the whole truth settled in; that the newsies had won, but Jack was, courtesy of no one less than the Governor himself, getting a ride to the train yards that David really knew what was going on.
Jack was leaving. He had betrayed David's trust again. Without so much as a goodbye, Jack Kelly had hopped in Teddy Roosevelt's carriage and was gone.
And, as he stood there, alongside his brother and sister, David could only hope that Jack's fickle nature would lead him to change his mind once more. He couldn't really be leaving for good… could he?
He sighed. The distribution bell began to ring, the shrill sound cutting through David's sorrow as easily as a warm knife through butter. He sighed and wiped his hands against his pants. The newsies had won the strike; as such, they had to go back to work.
The other boys, still high in spirits over their victory, took their time making their way to the distribution window. There was much merriment, and a dance or two, as they crossed the square. It was due to their frolic that, when a new man, so unlike Weasel, opened up the window, David was first in line. With a happiness he had to feign, he slapped his money down on the counter. "Hundred papes."
A couple of the boys waiting on line behind him whistled at him for his newfound confidence. Mush even offered an, "Alright, Davey," with a friendly pat on the back. David smiled before realizing that the cheering behind him had gotten louder. They weren't just congratulating him anymore.
"Dave, he's back," Mush offered, as they all turned to see the cause of the cheering. It was nearly impossible to miss it – the governor's carriage was coming back. Jack was coming back.
He could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat. He stood, frozen, at the head of the line, watching as the carriage pulled up to that gates. Jack, his bag in hand, turned back and said something to the governor that David couldn't hear. He smiled and exited the carriage.
I don't believe it. Jack… he came back. Deep down, he knew that Jack would return – whether it was wishful thinking or not. And, as he watched the boy make his way through the crowd, he could not help but smile.
Jack paused only once as he made his way forward – he placed his worn cowboy hat on Les's head. Then, though all of the other boys were clamoring for his attention, he went straight to David. Their eyes met and Jack smirked.
"So," he said, as casually as he could. "How's the headline today?"
David knew he looked goofy but the smile would not dim. So, in order to take the attention off of his obvious elation at Jack's return, he reached behind him and pulled out his newsboy cap. Jamming it onto his head of curls, David tried to mimic Jack's handsome smirk. "Headlines don't sell papes. Newsies sell papes."
Jack laughed. For the first time, it was David using his words instead of the other way around. "Come here, Davey," he said, spitting in his hand and sticking it out.
David copied the gesture and the pair of them shook. Jack's hand was warm and firm in his grasp; for a fleeting instance, he had the desire to hold tight to that hand and never let go.
He did not, of course, though it was not for a lack of trying. Just then, another person made their way through the crowd: Sarah. Her long, brown hair framing her pretty face, Sarah reached Jack and, quite contrary to his expectation, started to kiss Jack.
And not just a simple, chaste, Society-accepted kiss, either. The catcalls and whistles that erupted from the crowd showed him that the others appreciated the scene, even if it was not one they thought they would see.
David was glad that the crowd's attention was on the spectacle in the center. That way, no one saw the scowl that replaced his sappy grin.
For some strange reason, he had never expected Jack and Sarah to be together.
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David couldn't believe how much time had lapsed since the strike; since the astonishment of finding out Jack was really that interested in his sister. He ran his hand through his curly tresses and cursed under his breath.
Standing next to the bed, he looked at the tattered school books spread across the sheets. He picked one up and flipped through it, trying to clear his head. Sighing, he sat down on the edge of the bed and gathered the books in a neat pile, shoving them into a brown bag.
"Why do I have to go back to school now?" David whined out loud, falling back on his bed and closing his eyes.
Just a few weeks ago he was standing with the other boys, blindly diving into the excitement of the Newsies' Strike. They had become a legend in such a short time and now it was back to normal life. It felt like a dream… a damn good one. For once in his life, David had felt like a leader and now here he was, going back to school like a good boy.
"David?" His father called from the kitchen, forcing David to his feet. They shuffled him slowly towards the door and he leaned his body against the frame, looking up at his father. His right arm was no longer bound and he looked healthier than he had seen him in months.
"I know what you're thinking, son… I know it's going to be hard to be away from your friends…" his dad started.
As David opened his mouth to interrupt, his father put his hand up and spoke again. "David. I'll let you sell in the evenings, but only if you continue to excel at your studies."
David's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth stretched wide as he grinned. "You mean it, Pa?" he asked, trying to contain his excitement.
His father nodded, grabbing his sack of lunch and heading towards the door. "Just behave alright? I don't want no legend son of mine to start getting into trouble with the police now…" he joked.
"I promise I'll be fine Pa…" David smiled, watching his father leave, feeling as though he could skip the whole way to school. Maybe this school thing wasn't such a terrible thing after all.
