Autumn, 1895

Racetrack drummed his fingers on the tabletop, glancing once again at the door.

Where is that kid?

Jacobi paused in wiping down tables to give his two cents. "Maybe your little friend, he is a-not coming."

With a sigh, Race conceded defeat. "Yeah, okay. Gimme a sandwich. My usual."

"That will be five cents," Jacobi reminded him, disappearing behind the counter.

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," Race muttered. He got irritable when he was was hungry... or tired... or when he was worried about Romeo. But he felt bad about taking it out on Jacobi. "Grazie,"he added as the older man passed him hi plate.

The deli owner's face lit up, hearing the old familiar Italian. "Prego," he responded. "I would not worry, Race. Your friend will be a-back soon."

"Yeah, I hope so," Race said quietly, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Come off it, Race," Jack said, kicking a rock that lay in his path. "So the kid skipped lunch. That don't mean he's lyin' in a ditch somewhere. Ya ain't his mother."

"It ain't that he skipped lunch, Jack," Race said, sounding exasperated. "He could be stuck in... in trouble," he finished lamely. Romeo had confided in him, and only him, about his time in the Refuge. He wasn't about to break that trust.

"Let's just go look for him, okay?"

"Alright, Race," Jack said tiredly. "Lemme get Crutchie, and we'll start lookin'."

"Start lookin' for what?" Crutchie asked, limping towards them. He grinned. "Race finally askin' me for help with a sellin' spot?"

"No," Race said, shooting the tow-headed boy a glare.

Jack moved protectively between them, sending Racetrack a warning look. "We's lookin' for Romeo," he said. "He missed lunch today, and Race thinks he might be in trouble."

"Then let's get a move on," Crutchie said determinedly, shoving his crutch under his arm.

Race lit up momentarily. "Really?"

"Yeah," Crutchie said. "If it's important ta you, it's important ta me."

Race smiled slightly. "Thanks, Crutchie."

"Race," Jack said, exasperated. "It's been three hours. We's searched every back alley in Manhattan. The kid ain't there."

"If it was Crutchie who was missin' you'd keep lookin'," Race shot back.

Crutchie wedged himself between his two friends, always the peacemaker. "C'mon, fellas," he said, looking them both in the eyes. "It is gettin' late, Race. Maybe Romeo's back at the lodging house."

Race bit down on his cigar, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Maybe."

"Let's just go," Jack said, reaching for his friend's arm.

Race jerked away. Nerves were frayed, meals had been missed, and tempers had been lost. None of them was in the best mood. Pushing ahead of the others, Race stomped up the stairs.

"What's eatin' ya, Race?" Lou called. Race ignored him, throwing himself onto the bottom bunk and reaching into his pocket for a cigar.

Almost immediately, he felt the impact of a small body landing on his. "Hey, Race!" a voice shouted. "Want an apple?"

Race sat up suddenly, cracking his head against the top bunk. "Romeo?"

The younger boy's grinned back at him, holding out an apple. "Want one?" he asked again.

Race scowled, knocking the fruit out of Romeo's hand. "No, I don't want a-"

Lou dove forward and covered Romeo's ears, effectively blocking out the next few words.

"Where have ya been all day, Rome?" Race demanded. "We's been combin' Manhattan for ya!"

Romeo looked startled. "I was in the Bronx," he said. "I ain't seen my friends there in a long time."

"Your friends?" Race repeated.

"Yeah," Romeo said. "I had a life before you, y'know."

That was the wrong thing to say. "Another life?" Race shouted. "Did those friends from your old life pull ya outta the gutter when you was stranded in Manhattan? Did those friends give ya a place ta stay when your folks died? Are any of those friends your brothers, Romeo? Or am I not as special as I thought?"

Eyes wide, Romeo fell back a step. Lou wrapped an arm around the dark-haired boy protectively. "Easy, Race," he cautioned.

"Ya are my brother, Race," Romeo said. "I just... I wanted to..." He trailed off, his face crumpling.

Lou's eyes widened. "Butch!" he yelled. No answer.

"Okay, you and you," Jack said, taking charge and pointing to Race and then to Romeo. "Take this outside and settle it. Do whatever it takes, but if either of ya hurts the otha' then I'm soakin' ya both." Taking each of them by the collar, he shoved them out the door and slammed it closed.

"Way ta go, Jack," Lou whispered on his way back.

Race kicked at the door angrily a few times before crossing his arms and slumping against the wall.

"Race," Romeo said carefully, scrubbing at the tears on his face.

"What?" Race grunted.

Romeo crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, mirroring Race's stance. "What did I do wrong?"

Race looked away. "I didn't know where ya were," he mumbled. "I thought you was back in the Refuge. And if ya were it would be my fault, 'cause I'm the big brother and I'm supposed ta look afta ya."

"We look afta each other, Race," Romeo reminded him. "The brother thing goes both ways. And you's my only brother. Ya know that, right?"

Race bumped his shoulder against Romeo's. "Yeah, I know," he said. "C'mon, let's go to the winda and see if Lou'll let us in. Oh, and Rome?" he added, turning around. "Ya still got that apple?"

Romeo grinned. "Yeah."

Race grinned back, looking like his old mischievous self again. "Good. I missed supper lookin' for ya."

"Heya, Butch," Lou said wearily, coming into the room. "Everythin's wrapped up with the boys. Ya can get some rest."

Butch looked up, startled. "What's wrong with the boys?"

"Nothin' now," Lou said, glancing away. "Romeo ran off for few hours, and Race was real shaken up about it. They yelled at each other a bit, but Jack locked 'em outside 'til they worked it out.

"Kid's a good leader," Butch said absently, rubbing the back of his neck. "Lou, you's my best friend. I'm gonna tell ya the truth. I was out tonight-"

"-with Elizabeth," Lou finished. "And ya didn't know anythin' 'bout what was goin' on with the boys. I know."

Butch ran a hand through his hair, smoothing down the wild black locks. "I think it's time for me ta step down as leader," he said. "I can't give my boys all my attention any more. I didn't even know what was happenin' today."

Lou leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually. "How long?"

Butch reached under his pillow, coming up with an old cigar box full of bills and coins. Lou waited silently, watching as he counted them all.

"Two weeks," he said finally. "Two more good weeks of sellin' and we'll be set.

Lou nodded slowly. "I's been thinkin 'bout leavin', too," he admitted. "I'll wait a little longer afta you, though," he said.

Butch stood up. "Thank ya, Lou," he said, holding out his hand.

Lou started to spit on his, but hesitated, thinking about it.

"Go ahead," Butch said. "One last time as newsies."

Lou nodded slowly. "One last time," he agreed, spitting in his hand.

Butch spat in his, and they shook on it.

(A/N): Hey guys! Sorry I've been missing for so long! I accepted a job as a camp counselor this summer, so my updates might be sporadic for the next few weeks. Rest assured, I will not abandon this story or any others. Stick with me, please!

I wanted to thank Marcelle for the lovely review she left on this story. This chapter was inspired by one of her requests. Race's temper tantrum was really fun to write. :)

Note to everyone who's left reviews on this story: I take all your requests into consideration and they seriously make my day. So please leave lots of reviews on this chapter and let me know what you think of Butch's decision!

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