Emmaline snuck up the fire escape, quickly peeking into the bunkroom before entering. As opposed to her normally calm demeanor, she looked worried. It probably had something to do with the very literal blood on her hands. She sucked into the bunkroom and made a beeline for the washroom.

"What happened to you?" She froze, looking over to the doorway. Reuben was looking at her curiously, an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing," she lied, resuming her path to the other room. He was to her in a few steps, his long legs easily closing the distance.

"Doesn't look like nothing." He took her hands into his, looking down at them. She pulled them away and frowned.

"I'm fine, leave me be." She went into the washroom and shut the door behind her. Quickly turning on the water in one of the sinks, she grabbed a bar of soap and started scrubbing at her hands. She had just managed to get all the blood off when she heard the door open behind her.

"Go away," she ordered, turning the water off and drying her hands.

"Not likely." The voice came from closer than she had expected, and she turned to find herself face to face with Spot. "Reuben said you were all bloody." He eyed the water still draining from the sink, tinted red. There was also blood on her clothing, he noted, but didn't comment.

"You should see the other guy," she deadpanned, pulling her hair back out of her face.

"Where is he?"

"Please," she scoffed, walking away from him and back into the bunkroom. "I can take care of myself."

"Obviously not," she heard him mutter. She wheeled around quickly, her eyes narrowed.

"Obviously," she hissed, "I already have." His eyes narrowed as well and he scowled at her.

"Watch it, Emma," he growled. "Remember, we don't have to keep you here—"

"You do if you want the Rebellion," she retorted quickly, remembering just how angry Dorjan would be if her stubborn mind and hot temper ruined all his plans. "They trust me even more, now. They're telling me more."

"Who's telling you more?" It was clearly a challenge thrown at her, hinting at the distrust he had for her.

"Not Cage, obviously," she answered quickly, biting her lip at the thought of him. "Pierce fills me in after Cage talks to him and Max." She felt his eyes boring into her, as if trying to see the lies on her face. After a long moment with only the dripping sink providing noise, he crossed his arms.

"You need to watch your mouth, Emma," he growled, still scowling. "And you need to bring me more information, since they tell you more now. We'll keep a better eye on you. Go to Manhattan tomorrow."

Shit. Emmaline knew she would be watched until she was across the bridge. There was not a less welcoming part of the city for her than Manhattan. Knowing she couldn't refuse, she nodded. Still scowling, Spot traipsed out of the bunkroom to leave her to her thoughts.

Muttering to herself, she went to her bunk and grabbed a book from underneath her mattress. Tearing a piece of paper out, she quickly scrawled a message on it and went out to the fire escape. Hoping her suspicions about Dorjan's paranoia were right, she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled. She held her breath as she listened to the normal night noises around her. Sighing, she turned to go back inside, stopping suddenly when she heard a low whistle down below her. She let go of the folded paper over the edge of the fire escape, not walking back inside until she heard the quiet footsteps walking away from the building.

"I don't completely trust her," Spot stated, leaning against the wall in his room, looking down at Dragon and Alex. At Dragon's scoff, he glared. It was not often he called his head informant and head guard together for a meeting, but he figured it was necessary. "The point is, keep an eye on her. She is going to Manhattan tomorrow and I want to make sure she gets there. Once she is over the bridge, there are other things to keep her in place. It's your job," he continued pointedly to Alex, "to make sure we know she goes."

"It's done." Alex moved to get out of his chair and glanced at Spot. Getting a nod, he rose and left the room.

"What did I tell you?" Dragon murmured as the door clicked shut. "The less we find the more there is hiding. Why the sudden surveillance on someone who is, by your words, just a girl?"

"Shut up, Drag," Spot muttered, glaring at his friend. "I just want to make sure she's doing what she's supposed to."

"Why not get Cowboy's kids to keep a lookout, too?" A silence followed Dragon's words as Spot's gaze fell to the floor.

"I don't want to ask, seeing what happened over there recently." Dragon frowned, but nodded. It had not hit the Brooklyn newsies as hard as the Manhattan newsies, but Skittery's death had shocked everyone.

Walking across the Brooklyn bridge was more silence than Emmaline was used to. The water below was her only company as she trekked to Manhattan. Rome had obnoxiously followed her until she was at the middle of the bridge, and she could feel his eyes watching her long after. Crossing into Manhattan, she headed away from the river.

"Fancy meeting you here." She smiled softly as she saw Hades waiting for her. He took a drag off his cigarette and tossed it to the ground. "Manhattan, huh?" he scoffed, looking around. "How are we going to waste a day in a place this dull?"

"As quietly and privately as possible, I'd imagine," Emmaline sighed. "Come on, I don't want to be anywhere near South Street." He walked along beside her, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

For the most part the day went as quietly as it could. The pair wandered around the city and finally settled themselves on a bench in a rather quiet park, a little past mid-day. They sat in silence, watching the few people walking past them.

"Penny for a pape, miss?" A small voice broke them from their silent staring. Standing before them was a young man, his light blonde hair sticking out from under his hat. Hades looked at him, as if sizing him up, and then shifted his gaze back down the path, apparently finding him harmless.

"Sure," Emmaline murmured, digging into her pocket for a penny.

"Beat it, street trash," a voice behind them growled. Emmaline saw the boy take step back, and she turned to see who had spoken. Her eyes locked with the girl's and they both stared at each other for a long moment. There was something familiar about her but Emmaline couldn't place it.

"You," the girl gasped, taking a stop back. That was all it took, and Emmaline knew where she had seen her before. She quickly stood to face her.

"Em," Hades warned, rising beside her as well.

"It's fine," she murmured, not looking away from the other girl. "Just some Rebellion whore."

"Tanya!" a voice down the path called. Hades glanced down, seeing Pierce coming toward them. The blonde newsie took off running at the sight of him, leaving the four behind. "What are you doing?"

"She killed Kate!" Tanya exclaimed, her voice growing higher in pitch. "I saw her, I know it was her!" Beside her, Emmaline saw Hades draw his hand out of his pocket, most assuredly with his knife in it. Pierce stopped on the path, only a few feet from them.

"One of Dorjan's bitches, then?" he drawled, taking a few steps forwards and grabbing her arm. Almost immediately, Hades shoved the taller boy away from her. His left fist connected with Pierce's jaw, making him take a step back. Tanya moved to go to him but Emmaline jumped over the bench and pushed her back.

Tanya was not a girl who was inclined to fight before trying to outwit her opponent. Rather, she generally tried to fight with words first. Considering it was her brother Hades was currently threatening with a knife, she was throwing intellectual banter to the wind. It was unfortunate for her, however, that Emmaline always believe actions spoke louder than words, and was taught to dispose of her opponents.

When Tanya threw herself toward Emmaline, fists bared, she was met with a disdainful sneer and a kick to the stomach that knocked her to the ground. A glimpse at the boys told her Hades was not going to fair well. Pierce was taller, stronger, and angrier. Hades was good at his job, but not the best when it came to fighting someone hand-to-hand. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a piston, grateful to have followed Dorjan's instructions.

"I will give you," she yelled at Pierce, pointing the gun at Tanya, "to the count of three!" Both of the boys froze, Pierce with a look of horror on his face and Hades with a malicious grin.

"One." Pierce stayed frozen, staring at the gun in her hand.

"Two." She cocked the piston and Pierce took two unsteady steps away from Hades. Tanya watched her brother, breathing shakily.

"Three." The shot rang out through the park; both Pierce and Hades lunged forward. Hades caught his foe around the waist and took him to the ground, slamming him into it hard enough to be disorienting before getting to his feet quickly and holding his hand out to Emmaline. She pocketed her pistol and the pair left the park posthaste.

"We've got to go through Queens," Emmaline ordered quietly as they walked up the street. "They'll be watching the bridge for me." Hades nodded, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. The pair walked the rest of the way in silence, crossing the river into Queens and going down to Brooklyn, separating long before they reached the border.

"Cage, we've got a problem," Cynic stated quietly as he pushed the door to his leader's room open. Cage looked over from his chair, an eyebrow raised. As Cynic was usually frowning and looking contemplative, it was hard to tell what could possible be wrong and how bad it was. "It's Tanya."

"Look, I know she doesn't want to go for Brooklyn because of the Coyo—" Cage began, but was cut off by the other boy.

"It's not that, Cynic interrupted, stepping into the room and shutting the door. "That won't even matter anymore." He paused, glancing away from Cage. "She's dead, Cage. Shot in the park."

Cage was up out of his chair so fast it was as if he had sat on spikes, and he had nothing but questions. "Who did it? What park? Where is she? Pierce?" His last inquiry was softer than the others. Despite Pierce's distain for him, he cared for all of his own and knew it was going to be hard on him. Tanya was the one person Pierce ever talked to about anything. Plus, the last thing he needed was for one of his top men to be out of commission while they were preparing to wage war on the borough across the river. "Where is Pierce?"

"At the bar," Cynic replied quietly, folding his arms. Cage left his room and the building without another word, walking through the crowd of whispers before hitting the street.

There was a bar the leadership of the Rebellion liked to frequent, a shady dive that didn't ask questions and provided enough noise to keep them from being overheard. Cage walked into the bar, glancing around to find Pierce. He was easy to spot, his tall frame looming over the bar, even as he was sitting. Settling onto a stool beside him, Cage looked over at him.

"Shut up," Pierce muttered, not looking over at him and just taking another drink.

"Didn't say anything," Cage bristled, ordering himself a drink.

"Then don't start," Pierce snapped as he looked over, his eyes bloodshot and narrowed. "I don't want to deal with you right now."

"Well I don't want you to drink yourself into uselessness," Cage growled. "We need you too much for that to happen." Pierce laughed hoarsely, harshly, and shoved Cage off his stool, rising from his own and towering over him.

"Always the same with you isn't it?" he said bitingly, as Cage eyes the glasses lined up on the bar. He knew if Pierce were sober he wouldn't be nearly as bad. "So what, your sister was murdered in front of you, as long as you can throw a punch for us."

"Pierce, I didn't mean," Cage started, but knew he really had. He quickly switched thoughts. "Who was it, do you know?"

"Tanya," he looked away, swallowing hard. "Tanya said it was the girl who got Kate. There was a boy with her, too."

"Coyotes," hissed Cage, and Pierce nodded, grabbing his drink and finishing it off before signaling for another. "I want descriptions of them; I won't stand for them being in Manhattan."

"The girl," Pierce began, grabbing his drink off the bar, "had long hair. Dark. She didn't look like much trouble." He paused and threw the liquor into his mouth all at once. Cage eyed him warily but didn't comment, knowing he probably didn't want to reminisce about his sister's killer. "The boy was taller, had black hair that looked like he hadn't brushed it in weeks, real pale, but not that big. Lanky."

Cage nodded and moved to leave, but Pierce grabbed his arm. "We have to get her, Cage." His voice shook as he tried to restrain the wild emotion running through him. "We have to get her, and I want her."

"Don't worry, we will," Cage affirmed. Pierce just turned back to the bartender, releasing his arm. Cage quietly left the bar, knowing he just wanted to be left alone.

As he walked back into the house he was accosted by a smaller girl whose braids whipped along behind her as she collided with him. "Is it true?" she demanded, staring up at him fiercely.

"Is what true?" he growled, removing her hands from his arms.

"They say Tanya's dead." He pushed past her, headed toward his room. "Cage!"

"Pipi, not now," Cage snapped, his eyes narrowing at her as he glanced back. "Tanya's dead, alright? Not like you really care, you weren't her friend—"

"How could I be? She didn't like anyone," Pipi muttered, stopping at the look he gave her.

"As I was saying," he growled, "she's gone, nothing we can do about it, and if you would kindly keep your thoughts about her away from Pierce, that would be for the best." He once again turned to walk from her, making it a few more steps before she spoke.

"Who did it?" she questioned softly, not looking up at him. "Do we know?"

"Some coyote, but keep it quiet," he muttered, not facing her. "I don't want anyone going out and getting themselves killed trying to get revenge. We'll save that for when we take Brooklyn." Pipi didn't interrupt his exit again, just watching him leave.

There were people waiting, when Emmaline entered the lodging house. Stepping into the lobby, the ever following eyes of Dragon met hers. He was not the only one. Alex was leaned back against the wall and between the two of them was Spot.

"How was your day, poppet?" Dragon questioned softly, a smirk adorning his face. The withering glance Emmaline gave him was not the only look of distain send his way, as Spot sent him a silencing glance.

"Anything noteworthy?" Spot asked, turning back to her. She shrugged, pausing for a moment before shaking her head.

"Why'd you come back through Queens?" It was Alex's turn to ask her questions and once again, she shrugged.

"I was up there toward the end of the day," she answered. "I didn't feel like walking all the way back down Manhattan. They might've stopped me from coming back." Dragon continued to eye her suspiciously. "I didn't want to stay there. You don't know what they're like."

"Did you know her?" Dragon asked softly. Emmaline blinked confusedly, and then frowned.

"Who?"

"The girl who died." Dragon's gaze was fixed on her as he spoke and her breath caught in her throat. How could they know about that, and so quickly? That would explain why they had all been waiting for her. She shook her head, looking down to the floor.

"Tanya?" she asked, recalling the name from when that boy had yelled it. "No, I didn't really. I'd barely ever seen her." She bit her lip, looking back up at them. "I don't really want to talk about it, everyone was really upset."

"Do they know who did it?" Spot asked, folding his arms. "Don't want the wrong people getting blamed or anything like that." She considered him a moment before responding.

"They've got a rough idea, I think," she murmured, frowning. "I just really don't want to talk about this." Alex nudged Spot, as if prodding him to let it go for the time being. After a long moment, Spot nodded and she went upstairs to the bunkroom, breathing easier.

"Good thing Magpie was across the river today," Spot muttered, looking over at Dragon. "Keep her there, if you can. We need eyes and ears since we can't use Jack's."

"Good thing Dutchy found her and told her," Dragon said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. "We could probably spare her, for now, in Brooklyn. And we do need out own watch in Manhattan, until this is over. I still don't trust Emmaline."

"Don't worry so much, Dragon," Spot responded with a scowl. "It'll all come together, and we're going to get them."