"Jack! JACK!" The boy in question was jolted awake, realizing very quickly that it was morning, he had slept on the table, and David was at the lodging house screaming his name. Wow, could have phrased that one a bit better, in hindsight.
"JACK!" Hands seized him by the shoulders, making him jump and swear heavily. He whirled around, only to see Davey standing before him, arms full of papers and breathing hard.
"What's the... What's the matter with you?" Jack slurred slightly. When David didn't respond, Jack started to get worried. "Davey? What's wrong?"
David laughed. He laughed, a bitter, sarcastic laugh that made Jack wince. He threw his papers on the table, and started pacing back and forth.
"What's wrong, he says. What's wrong." He laughed again, and that time Jack actually flinched. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
"... David-"
"What's WRONG is that Racetrack Higgins is a hero, Spot Conlon's some sort of superhero boy wonder, Mush Meyers is the bravest guy you or I will ever know, Blink pretty much, just, saved them all, and Skittery's 'unprovoked' and 'unjust' arrest is making middle aged woman cry!" David yelled, going red in the face. Jack had to have been staring at him for a good 5 seconds before swallowing hard.
"Oh."
"That's all you have to say?! Oh?!"
"I- wait, what? What? What did you-"
"Read the papes, Kelly, read them!" David was loosing it, hands flying in the air in violent gestures. "Oh, dear lord, I can't believe this..." And then he was off again, pacing and mumbling. With numb fingers, Jack picked up the papers.
They were all from that morning, but each paper seemed to have a different headline, and were all from different publishers.
The first one read: BOY HERO SAVES CHILD in a huge, blocky font, and there were two photos accompanying it. In the first one, a boy was sprinting towards some sort of structure made of concrete and wood. Jack choked a little, sitting up and staring at the newspaper closer.
It was Racetrack.
It was Racetrack.
You could see the look of determination on his face, his mouth open in a yell as he pushed some little kids out of the way.
In the next photo, a small, light haired boy was literally mid air, as if he had been thrown. The structure looked like it was in the process of collapsing... And Racetrack was nowhere in sight.
"Race..."
"He was a hero. Racetrack! I can barely believe it." David seemed to have calmed down some, though his face was still a bit red. "Jumped into a collapsing shack, threw out a kid trapped inside, and then the whole thing fell on him."
So that's how Race got to be crushed like that... Wow. Everyone had just assumed he was doing something stupid, but that was wrong, so wrong, he was a hero.
Jack pushed the paper away, grabbing the next one and staring at it as attentively as he had the first.
BOY WONDER RESCUES HERO was the new headline.
"Spot lifted the ceiling- solid concrete, mind you- off of Race. Something that would take... I don't know, six grown men to do or something." David explained, still panting. There was only one big picture on that paper, and it made Jack want to throw up. Spot on one knee, lifting the huge concrete slab up in the air. You could see his hair, lank with sweat. You could see his back arched and head thrown back, screaming in what looked to be... Yeesh. Agony.
Jack was frantic now, looking at the third paper before returning his gaze back to the first one in confusion.
"Then... Then... Wait, there's a gap..."
"Where Spot is probably carrying Race across the Brooklyn bridge." David nodded, voice going hoarse. "Look at this one."
The headline read: BOYS FALL OFF BROOKLYN BRIDGE!
"Mary mother of Jesus." Jack blurted, face going pale.
"Spot fell over the rails... And Mush... Mush jumped after him." David was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he still couldn't believe it.
"But he fell too..." Jack thought aloud, skimming through the text.
"Blink grabbed them, don't worry. But- but he fell too..." David handed Jack yet another paper, letting the picture (three richie girls helping a shell shocked Blink back onto the bridge) and the headline (PEDESTRIANS RESCUE CHILDREN AT BROOKLYN BRIDGE DISASTER) speak for itself.
"WHAT?!" Jack yelped, involuntarily clenching his fists, crumpling the paper. "What the hell is a pedestrian?!"
"... Do I need to tell you, or-"
"Richies?! Pedestrians mean Richies, right?!"
"In this context, yeah."
"You're kidding. This is a lie. Those richies that brought them back said that they had no idea what happened to them!" Jack tugged on his hair. "The weasel's right there, you can see his gold loot!"
"It's not a lie, Jack! They've got pictures and everything!"
"So what, they lied?! They lied to us, Davey, why would they do that?"
"I think they thought that you would go to the press. They wanted to take all the glory, or something stupid like that."
"I can't believe this..." Jack shook his head, fuming slightly. "Okay... Okay... So Skitts is in jail? That's what you said, right?"
With much more force than was necessary, David turned the page, mouth drawing into a tight line.
"He was arrested, because he was a street rat and deserved to rot in jail." He spat out, as if the words were poison.
"... They said that?"
"No... No, but they meant it."
Jack took a look at the page before him. It wasn't a huge article, but a big one nonetheless. The headline read, INNOCENT ARRESTED, POLICE FORCE TURNS BLIND EYE TO CRISIS. There was even a picture, of a limp Skittery hanging in the grips of two bulls, head tilted in a way that the huge welt on his temple could be seen.
Jack shook his head, heart pounding.
"How do they know it was unprovoked? Skittery's broken out of the refuge before- I mean, who hasn't? Any newsie is pretty much ripe for the picking-"
"That's why!" David screamed, making Jack jump. "Do you honestly believe that those police offers had orders to arrest Skittery? No! That's not how they work, Jack! They see a poor kid and arrest him, then take him to court to see if they got anything on them! That's not how it should be; it's backwards! Don't you get it? They're supposed to see what they got on a kid and THEN arrest him! I-"
"Davey! Calm down."
"... It just ticks me off." David pushed away Jack's worried gaze, pointing to a paragraph on the paper. "Look at what these old ladies are saying, though. This young man was arrested purely because he had no home or family, and the means the law had him arrested was nothing short of barbaric. He was trying to help his friends, dangling off the Brooklyn bridge, completely ignored by the officers not ten feet away from them. When the boy struggled, he was clubbed over the head and dragged away. If this is truly the law, I want to move to Canada."
Although the situation hardly called for it, the two boys could help but burst out laughing at David's horrible falsetto.
"That's... That's something!" Jack snorted, knowing that he should stop, but deciding not to.
"Ain't it?" David suddenly sombered. "Jack, look, I had to beg my parents to let me come, and they told me I couldn't stay... I've got to get back home. But I didn't read all the stories, just skimmed them, so I'll leave them with you. Maybe you'll find something I missed." He stood, spitting in his hand and holding it out. Jack grinned, standing and completing the spit shake.
"Thanks, Dave."
"No problem."

Blink opened his eyes blearily, every single fiber of his existence screaming at him to go back to sleep you goddamn idiot.
But he did not go back to sleep, and stretched instead, as per his usual schedule. A little headache wasn't going to interfere with him getting up on the right foot.
He instantly regretted it as his back seized, aching pain coursing through his entire system. He didn't remember if he cried out or not, but the next thing he knew, Mush was awake and looking at him.
"Blink? You... You okay?" He asked timidly, looking as if he'd just woken up himself.
"My back." He hissed, teeth clenched. "All the muscles are pulled."
"... Maybe you should lie down." Mush offered unhelpfully, groaning and rubbing his midsection. "It feels like I just did 300 sit ups or something."
He hadn't forgot exactly, but it was in that moment that Blink remembered, or at least recalled, just why they were so sore.
"Mush... Are you-" Blink began, but Mush cut him off.
"I'm not okay. And neither are you." He muttered, averting his gaze to the ceiling.
"I'm fine, you were the one dangling-"
"Stop." Mush almost begged, but it was closer to a command. "Don't. Don't talk about it, please."
"Sorry, Mush." Blink didn't know what to say. What was there to say, when the only thing on your mind was the one thing you couldn't talk about?
Blink turned to the boy on the bunk beside him, furrowing his brow. The severity of their 'adventure' was sinking in; Mush had nearly died, his brother, his partner in crime, his only family had nearly died, and Blink had nearly died alongside him.
What the hell were you supposed to say after that?
"Mush..."
"Mm?"
"I-I... I'm glad you're not dead." To Blink's utter surprise, Mush turned to him with a sad sort of smile. In that second, Blink knew that Mush understood everything he was trying to say, and maybe even some things he wasn't.
"Same here, Blink. Same here."

"Boys! I'm back!" All the boys at the lodging house sat up in bed, almost as one. Their hearts were pounding, and their eyes widened in horror.
Oh no.
"Boys! Don't tell me you've been slacking off! You've gotta start selling in ten minutes!"
The only newsies that had been selling lately were the ones that didn't know Race or Spot that well, the ones who had to work to support families, and the ones who just needed a distraction. Jack had set up camp at Race's bedside, and it was only because of Davey's visits and other newsies bringing him food that he didn't get sick as well.
"What do we do?" Snitch hissed to Itey, who's response was a wide eyed stare of helplessness.
"Come on, boys! Up you ge- Cowboy! Glad to see you up and about!"
"Oh no, oh no, oh no..." Snitch started to mumble, rocking himself back and forth. Itey put a hand on his shoulder, but that wasn't doing much to help.
"Uh, Kloppman? There's been an accident."

Mush lay in bed, staring at the bunk on top of his.

The other boys were all either out selling, or downstairs taking care of Kloppman and Jack. It had been three days since the Doctor had given them the news, and he had left, convinced there was nothing else he could do. Three days. Three long, grueling days.
Race and Spot were both drifting in and out of consciousness, and it was with heavy hearts that the newsies admitted that they would both probably be gone in a day or two.
Spot was delirious with fever, and every time he woke up he would either scream and thrash around, or mumble names that meant nothing to any of them, but obviously meant the world to him (Who was Anthony? Who was Tony?). Race was in so much pain every time he woke up that he only had enough time to cry a bit, and maybe throw up, before falling back asleep.
And Mush was laying down, being as useless bump on a log.
Bumlets had given him some papers to look that morning. They were about them; Race, Spot, Skittery, Blink and himself, and he had read them all back and front. They didn't have any information or names, instead choosing to call them by aliases so that everyone would know who they were talking about. Skittery was the Innocent, Race was the Brave, Spot was the Captain (who knows where they came up with that one), Blink was the Rock and Mush was the Hero.
The goddamn Hero.
Mush wasn't a hero. He didn't feel like a hero. A hero would be able to save his friends. Sure, he caught Spot, but did he save him? No. He stopped him from dying a quick death, and instead brought him into a feverish, painful hell.
There had to be something he could do, though... There had to be. The only problem was, he couldn't figure it out.
So Mush thought.
Those papers... They were the key. The papers were still trying to use the massive event in the papers, but with little information about the Innocent, the Hero, the Rock, the Captain and the Brave, they were running out of things to write about. Soon the story would be dead, and no one would care about them anymore-
Oh.
Oh.
"Oh. My god." And then it hit him.
Mush sat up abruptly, making his head spin and his middle ache. He fell out of bed, groaning in pain, and stumbled to the window.
"Mush?" Blink's groggy voice made him turn around. "Wha... What're you-"
"Sorry, Blink. I've got to go." He whispered, making the boy in question jolt awake.
"What're you doing, Mush?!"
"I'm gonna give them what they want." Mush's whole body ached, but he still flashed his friend a grin. "Information."
And at that, he jumped out the window and onto the fire escape, running like hell was chasing him.

"MUSH- IS GONE!" Blink ran down the stairs, one hand gripping the railing and the other curled protectively around his midsection.
"Blink?! Why're you running around, you bum, you're supposed to be resting!" Jack said, trying in vain to herd Blink back up the stairs.
"MUSH LEFT! HE'S GONE!"
"What?! Where'd he go?!"
"To... To someone!" Blink panted, all previous energy gone. "He wants to give them information or something!"
"Did he say who?" Jack asked.
"No! He just left!"
Jack gripped Blink by the shoulders, staring into his eyes.
"We're gonna find him. Go upstairs and don't leave, got it?"
"But-"
"Got it?!"
"... Got it."
Jack then turned, yelling commands at the other newsies and making search parties. Blink sat heavily on the steps, head in hands and trying to breathe.

Mush raced through the streets, shoeless and hatless. If Jack and the others got to him before he got there, Race and Spot would die. The other newsies would never go for his idea, but Mush knew it was Race and Spot's only chance.
And this was his only chance to make it happen.
He was sprinting, bare feet slipping around on wet cobblestone, and he knew that he was probably getting scraped up quite a bit as well. He went through back roads and alleys, never using one particular route, but choosing instead to cut in and out.
Suddenly, when he was in a particularly narrow alley, a small figure dropped in front of him. Mush skidded to a stop, realizing with astonishment that the person had jumped from a fire escape nearly three meters in the air.
It only took him a second more to realize that the figure was a bird. A bird with a red ribbon tied around their neck.
"Hey, Mush." She- he realized then that the bird was a she- straightened up, grinning in a way that could only be described as semi- sweet. "What the hell are you doing?"
Ah. And there was the hook.
"Robin!" He panted. "Good to see you, but I've really got to go-"
"What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing?!" She repeated, eyes ablaze.
"It's complicated! Now move!" He huffed, imagining Jack and the rest of the newsies getting closer and closer...
"Are you kidding? You should be in bed, but instead you're running away, barefoot of all things!"
"Look, Robin." He said, not even questioning how she knew all of that. "Spot is dying. He needs a doctor, a GOOD doctor, and very, very expensive medicine. I have an idea that might work, but if the newsies get me before I can do it, Spot'll be as good as dead. Okay?"
She froze at that, and in that moment she looked as young as ever.
"I... Believe you. Okay, we'll stall them, run! Go!" She jumped up, grabbing the underside of the fire escape and swinging herself over without a sound. "I said GO!"
And go Mush did.
Once, just as he was about to trip and fall into a huge pile of boxes and crates, an African- American bird about his age popped out of nowhere, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and hurling him in the right direction. He saw birds ahead of him dropping down, kicking away obstacles and potential foot- impalers. They even showed him an alternate path when the one he was using turned out to be a dead end.
In less time than he thought was humanely possible, Mush was standing in front of the building, the building he knew all the reporters for The World worked in.
He threw open the door and stumbled in, slamming his hands on the receptionist's desk. The man jumped, recoiling away from the sweaty, dirty boy before him.
They made eye contact for a second, Mush panting for air.
"Who... Who are you, and what business do you have in a workplace such as this?" The man huffed.
"My name is Mush Meyers." He said gruffly. "And I am the hero."

"You're not gonna find him."
Jack whirled around, along with the rest of the newsies. They had been running all over for at least two hours at that point, forcing Jack to get everyone together and regroup.
They found a whole trail of Mush sized footprints leading to The Journal's main office, and overjoyed, the newsies followed it.
Rookie mistake.
It would have taken a good half hour of solid running to get there if newsies didn't keep getting tripped up by unseen forces. The damage differed, sometimes taking out one kid, and sometimes taking out as many as five. The worst that happened was a bloody nose on one and a twisted ankle on another, but the added delays made their trip closer to an hour.
They then realized that half of their group was missing, and had to go look for them, which took another fifteen minutes. They found them strung up by their suspenders in an alley, with no clue how they had gotten there.
Finally they made it to The Journal, only to realize that Mush wasn't even there.
They were about to go look over at The World's office, but Dutchy found a scrap of Mush's shirt on a protruding metal pole, looking like it had been torn off. That led to another very realistic trail of footprints, which they had been following for the past fifteen minutes.
And now some little girl with more freckles than Lucky (Spot's right hand man) was mouthing them off.
"Who're you?" Jack asked, noticing that she was young, close to nine or ten, and there was a little boy standing next to her.
"I'm Robin, and this is my brother, Wing. We're Birds of Brooklyn. And we can now say, on behalf of the Birds of Brooklyn, that we have been fooling you for a good two hours now and it is the easiest thing I have ever done in my life." She said with a fake richie accent that didn't quite cover the drawling tones of the street rats of New York.
"You are pretty slow." Wing piped up, offering a gap toothed grin.
"Where's Mush." Jack ignored the insult, stepping foreword in what he intended to be an intimidating manner.
"At the lodging house, probably." Robin said flippantly, inspecting her fingernails.
"What?!"
"You're pretty stupid too!" Wing laughed, but Robin nudged him, shaking her head.
"Now, now, Wing darling, what have I told you."
"Be nice to the simpletons." He giggled, and Robin dropped the act, smirking at the newsies who were all scoffing in indignation.
"Did she just insult us? I am sure she just insulted us."
"I am not a simpleton!"
"You don't even know what a simpleton is!"
"Oh yeah? Well-"
"Shut up!" Jack roared, and they all fell silent. He turned to the siblings with rage in his eyes, making Wing squeak and hide behind his sister.
"I want to know what's going on! Where did Mush go? What's going on, you little twerp?"
"He just saved Spot and the Raceytrack guy, if you must know, Mr. High and Mighty! If we didn't help him they were both gonna die!" She roared right back, getting in Jack's face.
"What are you TALKING abou-"
He was cut off by Robin's fist slamming right into his manhood, making him crumple like a used tissue.
"And don't call me a twerp."
Before any of the newsies could grab her, both her and her brother rocketed off, giggling and cackling into the distance. All of them stopped running, realizing it was a futile effort to go after them.
"C'mon, Jack." Swifty said, helping him up. "Let's go home."

"Alright Mush. We can do this the easy way or the hard way." Jack said, with a glare that meant business.
Mush just laughed in his carefree way, something that only made Jack angrier.
"Mush, you've gotta work with me here! This isn't something I'm gonna shake off!"
Mush paused, weighing his words on his tongue.
"Don't freak out tomorrow, okay Jack? It's all part of my plan. I gave them our address. Let them in, answer their questions, and don't ask how they know all those things because I told them-"
"Who?!"
"Didn't I tell you?"
"No you haven't, Mush! Stop playing games with me!"
"Nope. That's it. I have nothing else to say."
"Mush!" He growled. "I'm dead serious, Meyers, this isn't a joke! Where did you go?! Give me an answer!"
Mush paused, turning to look at Jack for a good five seconds. When he finally opened his mouth to talk, a wave of dizziness swept over him, only giving him enough time to blurt out,
"I- I'm gonna pass out."

Before slumping into Jack's waiting arms.

Things are looking up! Thanks again for reading!

- Kat