Author's Note: I updated! Oh my gosh! YAY! There really is not much to say about this chapter. You should just read and review, then tell me what you think :) Then, if you haven't already, go read my other stories! The two most recently updated are Bye Bye, Birdie and Time Warp.

I know that this is a rather short chapter, but after I wrote it, and revised it, and reworked some parts, I realized that this particular chapter would not have the same impact if I added another section on what happened the day after, or any of the many other options I thought of. I will leave it as is; I know it's short, but I think it's for the better.

Author's Note on the Edit and Replacement of this Chapter: I forgot to note that I put in some dialouge directly from the movie. Well, I did, and NONE OF IT BELONGS TO ME! It belongs to Disney.

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. I do own any other unfamiliar characters unless otherwise noted, including Becca Pallas and Mercury Pallas a.k.a Meg- well, you're just gonna have to read the story, aren't you ;)

xxx

Go for it now. The future is promised to no one.

-- Wayne Dyer

xxx

We returned to Manhattan in awkward silence. All any of us could think about was how we were going to have to tell the rest of the newsies. As it turns out, they brought it up themselves.

We found the newsies around the statue of Horace Greeley. The older ones were gambling or painting signs, and the younger ones were playing with wooden swords.

Race was the first to gather up the courage to ask what went wrong. "So, Jack, where's Spot?"

"He was concerned about us being serious. You imagine that?" Jack said.

Racetrack looked around him uneasily. I could already tell that they had been talking about their apprehension and doubts. I couldn't blame them; striking wasn't exactly safe back then, especially when you were no-name, working class orphans going up against members of the community that most respected and revered. "Well, Jack, maybe we ought to ease off a little," Racetrack started.

"Without Spot and the others, there ain't enough of us, Jack," Blink added.

Mush saw the looks on the faces of us Brooklyn ambassadors. "Maybe we're moving too soon. Maybe we ain't ready, you know?" he consoled.

"I definitely think we should forget about it for a little while," Skittery said. I glared at him. At least the other three had been delicate about it.

"Oh, do ya?" Jack said, fixing Skittery with a look so frightening I can't describe it.

"Yeah," Skittery replied, giving him the same look.

Race saw the fight brewing, too. "Yeah, I mean, without Brooklyn…"

"Spot was right, is this just a game to you guys?" Jack asked, exasperated.

"Fellas..." David started, "guys..."

"Just spit it out, Dave," Race said in a monotone.

"Have you heard the saying 'carpe diem'?" David asked.

Everyone was dead silent for a moment. "Yeah," I said quietly. "It means 'seize the day'."

"Exactly! Listen, I know it seems sudden, and dangerous... but we have to seize the day! If we don't take this opportunity-"

"Yeah!" Jack interrupted. I shook my head. He always had to be the center of attention. "Guys, we can't let the fat cats walk all over us! We have to be strong-"

"Yeah!" the newsies chorused.

"United!"

"Yeah!"

"Brothers!"

"Yeah!" the newsies yelled in unison. They broke out into deafening cheers.

"I guess the strike's still on," I muttered to Boots.

"No kiddin'," he said, and began cheering himself.

xxx

Jack made me go to the newboys lodging house for a visit to the infirmary. It was a chilly room that was rarely used, unless it was during the winter influenza season. I had already rolled up my sleeves, exposing my forearms. I sat on a stool as Jack poured a little carbolic acid into a small bowl of water. He dipped a cloth in the diluted disinfectant, took my right arm, and began to dab at the cuts.

"I really don't see why this is necessary. They're already--"

"It's necessary, Mercury," Jack replied. His tone was flat, which wasn't a good sign. That only happened when he was really angry and trying to hide it. "I don't understand why you keep doing this to your--"

"You don't try to understand, either." I didn't even try to hide how mad I was.

He flinched. I was a little harsh. Alright, a lot harsh. I will be the first to admit it -- I'm very defensive.

"Megan..." he trailed off.

I looked up and glared at him at the mention of my Christian name. "What is it, Francis?"

Surprisingly, he didn't glare back at me. "You're my sister-"

"Half sister."

"Does it even matter!?" He threw the cloth back into the bowl of carbolic acid and water. "We're family, and that's what matters. I don't think you realize just how hard it is on me-" He stopped talking, and just shook his head. He picked up the cloth, wrung it out, and began cleaning the cuts on my left arm in silence. He inspected each cut for infection, and bandaged everything. As soon as he had finished, I rolled down my sleeves and buttoned the cuffs, making sure that there was no part of the bandages that could be seen.

I sat on my stool, waiting for Jack to get done cleaning up. He had already made it very clear that he was going to walk me home. He was probably going to search my possessions for a knife.

When he was done, he said "Let's go, Meg-"

"Mercury," I corrected flatly.

"Let's go then, Mercury," he said sadly.

I got off my stool and followed Fran- no, Jack- out the door.

xxx

Four years ago we were turned onto the streets by my drunkard father (J- Francis's stepfather). I was eleven; Frankie was thirteen. We were only half-siblings, sharing a common mother, but we looked a lot alike.

We survived in orphanages, until Frankie was arrested and sent to the refuge for stealing when he was fifteen. Since it was his first offense, he got out after two weeks for good behavior. That's about the time we learned about Rebecca, my half-sister, Frankie's stepsister. After Rebecca turned two, her mother came and dropped her off at the orphanage we were at, knowing Frankie and I were there.

We ran away from the orphanage and became newsies. We decided that it would be best if we pretended not to be a family. Francis "Frankie" Sullivan became Jack "Cowboy" Kelly, I, Megan Sullivan, Became Mercury Pallas, and Rebecca Sullivan became Becca Pallas.

Our name change not only made it harder for our fathers (Fran- Jacks' was on the lookout for him, too) to find us, but it also meant that Jack (who had ended up in the refuge a few more times before our change of identities) no longer had a criminal history.

"Jack, what if Snyder recognizes you in the papers?" I asked on the way home.

He shot a look my way. You could tell he didn't think about that. "Well, I'm older now... maybe he won't..."

I shook my head. "You still look almost exactly the same. A little taller, maybe, but you haven't changed much."

He swore under his breath as we reached the door to the girl's lodging house.

He opened the door for me. "Seeya later, Meg."

"Aren't you going to sear-"

"I'll trust you this time."

"Thanks-" I started. He turned and sauntered off before I could finish, but I said the rest of the sentence anyway. "...Frankie."

A heavy breeze started up. Tendrils of hair that had become loose from my braid blocked my view of the seventeen-year-old that had aged far beyond his years that was my half-brother. Memories of a childhood long since past all came rushing back to me. Fifteen years filled with nothing but proof that my older half-brother did indeed care about me, all begging me to run after my half- no, my brother.

All he had ever done to me was care. There was an occasional fight, but we fought because he cared. Mother always told me how when I was just a baby he would play with me. He would help me with my letters and math when I was old enough to learn them from our mother. He's soaked countless bullies in my name, and taught me how to beat them up myself. The charges against him that caused the judges to throw hm in the refuge? Stealing food, for myself and Becca.

Even today, cleaning and bandaging my cuts, all while I did nothing but act like an ungrateful child.

Just now, when he didn't invade my personal space and search my belongings for a knife. He wouldn't have found one, anyway. I'm a lot sneakier than that.

The lodging house was almost empty. I had access to the kitchen. The cook probably wasn't in there yet. I had more than enough time to grab a knife.

But I didn't.

Because even though Mercury Pallas couldn't care less about Jack Kelly, who was nothing but the self-centered leader of the Manhattan newsies, Megan Sullivan would go to the ends of the earth and back for Frankie Sullivan...

And on that day in 1899, not so very many years ago, I was more Megan Sullivan than I had been in four years.

xxx

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