The girl chose Brooklyn. Spot had said he wasn't going to rat her out.

There were no cops on her way to Brooklyn. Fawkes knew why: it was a lawless place.

A pair of Brooklyn newsies were waiting on their side of the bridge when she crossed. She put her head down and marched along the docks, looking for Spot.

"What are you doing here?" His voice came from somewhere high.

When Fawkes looked up, she saw him watching her from a fire escape. "I need to talk to you."

That was enough to pique his interest. Spot pulled up his suspenders and meandered down to ground level.

"I seem to recall you not wanting to step foot in Brooklyn if you didn't have to."

"That was a concern," Fawkes agreed. "And then I saw Mackey."

Spot froze and a moment later, his cane jumped out in front of her, halting her as well. It forced the girl to face him. "Mackey's supposed to be serving a murder sentence. Wrongly accused if you believe the hype," Spot eyed her knowingly.

"Exactly. So why would I see him wearing a policeman's uniform in Manhattan today?"

"Because you were hallucinating."

"I wish."

"How come no one knows?" Spot wondered.

"He told me he's stayed out of Brooklyn. Maybe when he flipped it was a condition?"

Spot poked her suddenly with his cane, "This means you can come out of hiding."

"No. The Irish aren't a forgiving people."

"What do you mean? If he's not in jail, you're in the clear."

"Mackey only revealed himself to me because he thought it would be enough of a distraction to get me captured. I couldn't get north out of Manhattan. They blocked off my escape routes like they knew where I would go. That's why I came here. He knows I shouldn't be in Brooklyn. I don't think he expected me to do it. I'm not the same girl I was three years ago. He's about to find that out if he hasn't already. I never would have been so bold as to lead a strike three years ago and here I am."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Go to the rally tonight and warn Jack. He's probably their next target."

"But if you know they're going to crash it-"

"They're looking for a girl named Connie, maybe they'll be looking for Ginger and Morgan. They might be looking for a short-haired redhead named Fawkes. They won't find any of those. The only person showing up is Colleen, the Black Irish Balladeer."

"Seems I heard that name around a time or two," Spot grinned. He'd been hanging around Jack at Medda's place. He knew about her newest identity.

Before, it would have bothered her. Knowing he didn't care about her past made it a lot easier to trust him. "I thought you only had a place in your heart for redheads?" A knowing smile slid across Fawkes' face.

"That Colleen? She's got a sweet set of...pipes."

Fawkes pushed him and his innuendo away, "Get out of here."

"This is my turf," Spot shoved her back with his cane, but he was still grinning.

Fawkes laughed.

The girl made her way back up to Manhattan.

There was no longer a cop on every street corner.

Fawkes pushed into Medda's where the local crew of newsies was helping Jack prepare for the night.

"Jack."

Cowboy's head snapped up. As soon as his hazel eyes locked onto her grey ones, an invisible weight left his shoulders, "Where have you been?"

Fawkes let out a breath, "We need to talk."

Jack immediately dropped what he was doing and walked towards her, "We worried you got taken by the Bulls or the Delancey brothers. Racetrack's out following a lead that you were with the Bulls-"

"That's what I need to talk to you about," Fawkes said.

"Have you-?" Jack couldn't bring himself to ask.

"I haven't flipped. You know me better than that."

"But there's stuff I don't know about you-" he pointed out. He was referencing her time in Brooklyn.

"That's not who I am. And we're about to rectify that. C'mon," Fawkes led the way to a private dressing room Medda had been letting her use. It was little more than a closest. It barely had enough room for a rack of fancy dresses, a vanity, and a chair.

Fawkes hopped onto the vanity, her back to the mirror.

Jack dropped into the chair.

"When you and I parted ways, I got sent back west to work for the ranch I'd rustled cattle from. They were not nice folk."

"Of course not, you stole from them."

Fawkes narrowed her eyes at her friend. "I was supposed to work as restitution. The money I would have made was to compensate them for their lost cattle. I didn't like the way they treated me so I stole a horse and made my way east. I picked up small jobs and convinced myself that I could live on the straight and narrow. Running out on my sentence wasn't going to end well, and being clean was the only way to avoid detection.

"I got work running horses at a ranch upstate. They like to bring their horses to Coney Island to race and one day, they decided to bring me along. They thought I'd earned it. I was scared at first, coming back, considering how we left. I explained to the horsefolk my plans to head to Ireland. They didn't like the idea of leaving a teen-aged girl in the City, but I told them I'd been here before and that I could take care of myself. I met Race, and he introduced me to the Brooklyn newsies.

"I thought things would be like they had been with you and me. The leader of the crew, a guy named Patrick Mackey offered me his protection. It meant I had to give him a cut of my proceeds, but then I would have two hundred brothers at my disposal. I took the offer. I didn't think anything of it. I started selling on my old turf again, which caused a stir because it wasn't in Brooklyn, but it was close enough. I figure they let me slide because I was a girl and they thought I was new to the newsie world.

"Mackey paid me a lot of attention. Back when we were thirteen, we were just kids. When I was out west, I was so low on the totem pole, I was virtually ignored. Mackey made me feel special. He'd do me favors and in return-" Fawkes couldn't bring herself to say it. When she was fifteen, she hadn't fully understood the ramifications of what she'd been a part of.

"I made him happy," she said at last, knowing that did their relationship no justice. "But then he got possessive. He turned ugly. He threw Racetrack out of Brooklyn because he didn't like our friendship," Fawkes told him as a prime example. "I didn't like what he turned into. I wanted to get away, to go to Ireland, but Mackey wouldn't let me handle my own money. He knew I would run if I had it. He wasn't stupid and that was a damned shame.

"Mackey was dangerous when he was angry. I learned from the others to keep my head down and I'd be okay, but that didn't always save me. He'd slap me around if I shied away too much. If he didn't think I was being affectionate enough. If I looked too long at another boy.

"I wasn't the same girl I am now. I avoided conflict, but it didn't always work. Mackey was looking for it and he'd make some if he couldn't find it. He used to...he used to force himself on me. I think he liked it better that way." Fawkes couldn't look at Jack. She didn't want to see the look in his eyes. She had to tell this story so that Jack would know what they were dealing with. That was the only reason.

"I wasn't used to the idea of boys finding me attractive or fighting over me. I figured it was just because I was an available body and they didn't have much for choices." Fawkes took a breath, the one upside was that Mackey had kept her to himself. He could have treated her worse. Given her to any boy who wanted it. "I managed to run off one night to Coney Island. I figured Mackey would kill me or Race when he found out, but I had to apologize. I didn't know Race had moved to Manhattan. The leader of Coney Island liked the look of me and tried to have his way with me.

"Somehow Mackey knew what I was up to. He caught the guy from Coney Island and roughed him up for daring to touch his property. Left him dying in the street. He beat me up pretty good too for running, or getting caught, I still don't know, but I fought him off as best I could. It was the only time I'd ever actually stood up to him. I told him I wasn't going back. He might have killed me too if that boy from Coney Island hadn't been so hard to put down. As it was, he was struggling and I was fresh. I laid him out and promised myself that I wouldn't ever let myself live like that again. Given how things were, I decided getting out of town was something I should do sooner rather than later. I caught the train out of Coney, but passed and and had no way to pay the fare. That's how the bulls got me.

"They sent me back west to answer for the cattle and the horse-again. And I heard Mackey got charged with murder. None of the Brookies liked him, but they were loyal. They believed that I turned him into the police and ran. They don't know that I've got charges of my own."

Silence seemed to stretch on for infinity. "Why are you telling me this now?" Jack's voice was quiet.

"Because I saw Mackey this morning. He's a cop now. Probably works for Snyder."

"Did he see you?"

"Yes. I reckon we have our picture in the paper to thank for our fame. He had an entire unit at his disposal, which is why I couldn't get here earlier. I think they'll be here tonight. For both of us."

"Do you have a plan of attack?"

"That's where you come in."

Jack stood and before Fawkes had time to react, he embraced her. For a heartbeat of time, the girl was frozen in place. Slowly, her arms wrapped around the boy and hugged him back.

"He's the reason you won't sleep with us at Kloppman's," Jack's voice was an understanding whisper.

"Anywhere where the boys outnumber me and exits are limited," Fawkes agreed.

Jack pulled away and grinned at her, "He's also the reason you fight men twice your size with no fear."

"I don't intend to thank him for it," Fawkes made a face.

Jack laughed and put his hands on her shoulders, "No. You took that fear and you conquered it. He made you think you were weak. We both know you aren't. He had to make you think you were weak so he could control you. But you never were. I may not have been there, but I know that. You're strong. You always have been."

Fawkes squeezed her eyes shut to halt the tears that suddenly threatened.

"Any other kid would have died from that beating you took when you first came to New York. Not you. You're too stubborn, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Now you're fighting Brookies and leading strikes."

Fawkes wiped her eyes on her sleeves, "That's nice and all Cowboy, but it doesn't solve this mess we're in. We've both invested too much into this to just walk away."

"I'm all ears."

"I can't be the only one coming up with ideas. We're a team Sullivan."

Jack made a face at her. He didn't like when she used his other name. She understood the why. It was a matter of self-preservation, but when it was just the two of them…