Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.


Chapter 12: Back from Brooklyn

"I gotta say, Spot was pretty impressed, wasn't he?" Jack asked as he and Davey left Brooklyn's newsboy lodging house behind and began the long walk back to Manhattan.

"I'll say," Davey agreed, pulling up short as a carriage clattered past him and down the road. Glancing in both directions, he spotted a break in the traffic and strode quickly across the street, Jack hot on his heels. "And he's got quite an impressive group of newsies under his command. I felt like I was in an army barrack or something." Glancing at Jack, Davey added, "I haven't really been around long enough to be sure about this…but it seems like you run things a little differently in Manhattan."

Jack shrugged. "I like to give my boys their freedom as long as it ain't hurtin' no one. Spot's different. He likes control."

Davey looked thoughtful but didn't say anything immediately in response, and they walked in silence for a while. They had arrived in Brooklyn just as the sun was beginning to set, but now the night had crept in and the lights of the city were winking on, a thousand glittering pinpoints piercing the twilight's dusky glow.

"I've never walked through this much of Brooklyn before," Davey remarked, taking in the neighborhood around him. "It's a lot bigger than I remember it."

"Wait, hold on," Jack interjected in confusion. "You tellin' me you ain't a 'Hattan boy?"

Davey shrugged. "I'm…not really sure what you'd call me," he answered slowly. "My family's moved a lot. We lived in Brooklyn for a few years, and Les was born here, but we moved again shortly after he arrived." He paused, then added, "We actually haven't even been in Manhattan for too long."

Jack grunted. That explained a lot of things: the reluctance to become selling partners. The nervous insistence on keeping Les within arm's reach. The wariness that never seemed to completely leave, even on the few occasions Jack had seen Davey let his guard down. Between the recent move and his father's sudden accident, he'd had to adjust to a lot of things quickly, and Jack had transitioned enough newsies into his lodging house to know that a family crisis and a change of dwelling weren't easy on anyone, ever.

Jack had swapped lodgings several times in his life, but Manhattan had always been his home.

He'd been born there, was raised (if you could call it that) there, and was half-resigned to the fact that he would probably die there too, though most days he fought that thought with every fiber of his being. His sense of identification with the borough had only grown when he'd taken over leadership of the lodging house, and while the ties holding him in Manhattan were tenuous, those ties had always been there.

What would it be like to never stay somewhere long enough to feel fully settled? To always be saying goodbye to any friends you'd made, and to continually have to start over, not knowing whom you could depend on or trust?

Jack shook his head, his respect for Davey growing a bit as he contemplated the other boy's situation. He honestly hadn't thought much about Davey and Les' personal circumstances - he'd only seen them (well, Les) as a way of boosting sales, and later on as potential allies in the strike effort. The fact that the Jacobs brothers had folks and a place to go back to at the end of the day seemed to indicate that their lives were more solid, secure, stable… and complete. It hadn't occurred to Jack that Davey could be looking for a place to belong just as much as any of the rag-tag boys who had stumbled through the door of the lodging house and had found themselves a part of Jack's unconventional family.

"You sure is takin' all of this pretty well," Jack remarked aloud, allowing a bit of admiration to leak into his voice.

Davey looked over at him in surprise. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Movin.' Becomin' a newsie. Startin' a strike." Jack shrugged. "Most of the fellas wouldn't be able to handle all that happenin' to them so fast, but you ain't even flinchin.'"

"Glad I'm fooling someone!" Davey answered with a laugh. It came out a bit shaky, but Jack could tell that he was pleased by the compliment.

"Come on, Davey," he scoffed. "'Foolin' someone'? You tellin' me that rousin' speech you gave the boys today was all for show?"

"It wasn't for show!" Davey insisted. "I meant what I said. I don't say things unless I mean them."

"But you ain't feelin' all that confident about the strike?" Jack pressed. He tried to keep his tone lighthearted, but held his breath slightly as he waited for Davey to answer.

The other boy didn't respond right away, clearly weighing his words before replying.

"It's not that I don't feel confident about it. I know it's the right thing to do - and I don't know what else we can do at this point - but that doesn't mean I'm not worried." He glanced at Jack. "I'm sure the newspaper owners will respond in some way to the strike tomorrow. I just hope that Brooklyn and the others come to back us up. And that if they don't, that we're still able to stand our ground."

"Wait, hold on a second," Jack demanded. "You just said you thought Spot sounded impressed. You think there's a chance he ain't gonna get behind us?"

"He seemed like he was sizing us up, Jack," Davey sighed. "Remember, he said he wanted to be sure that we weren't going to fold at the first sign of trouble."

Jack grimaced. He did remember the parting comment Spot had made when they were already halfway out the door. He was used to Spot's cageyness, but they had a mutual respect and a few years of history together, so Jack (perhaps too cockily) had assumed that the Brooklyn leader, despite his ambiguous answers, would throw his support - and the muscle of his newsies - behind Manhattan when all was said and done.

Clearly, Davey wasn't so sure.

"But you still think we should go ahead with it?" Jack asked, pushing the thought aside for a moment. "The strike, I mean?"

"We have to," Davey answered, sounding weary but determined. "Even if no one else shows."

Jack felt a relieved half-grin spread across his face at the other newsie's answer. It wasn't exactly Race's confident bravado or Crutchie's plucky optimism, but it was Davey's own kind of fearlessness, and Jack could work with that.

"Well, ain't you the brave one!" he said, elbowing the other boy jokingly in the arm. "Guess Katherine was right after all: a David takin' on Goliath, huh?"

Davey shook his head, smiling a little. "I don't think it's bravery," he admitted. "And Katherine was talking about all of us when she said that." He paused, then added, "I guess I've just gotten used to doing things on my own without other people being there to back me up. That tends to happen when you're a perpetual new kid who doesn't make friends easily."

It was a matter-of-fact statement, but it was sobering to Jack nonetheless. He couldn't imagine who he'd be without a band of brothers at his back.

"Too bad about all of the movin' you and your folks did," he muttered. It was an awkward attempt at sympathy, but it was the best he could do.

Davey shrugged. "I've adjusted. The worst part about moving to a new neighborhood is making sure that Les doesn't run off and get himself lost or killed."

Jack chuckled, appreciating the dry humor. That sounded about right. "Speakin' of the kid...how'd you get him not to tag along tonight?" he asked curiously.

Davey sighed. "I put my foot down. And I promised that I would tell him all about our visit tomorrow morning." He grimaced. "Les has it in his head that the Brooklyn boys must be these imposing, burly giants, bigger and meaner than everyone else, since all of the Manhattan newsies are so afraid of them."

"Well, ain't you gonna burst the kid's bubble when you tell him ol' Spot's only an inch or two taller than him," Jack chuckled. "What about your folks? They ain't worried about their rule-followin' good boy traipsin' around Brooklyn late at night?"

"I didn't tell them I was going to Brooklyn," Davey replied, ignoring the mild insult. "But I did promise that I'd explain when I got back."

Jack whistled. "You sure is gonna have a lot of explainin' to do." Not for the first time, he found himself thankful not to have a family waiting up for him. While he felt a strong sense of responsibility to look out for his boys, he didn't feel the need to answer to them for his choices, and the thought of being accountable to anyone in that way was...well, quite frankly, suffocating.

Jack liked being his own man, free to keep his own counsel and to do as he pleased. He wouldn't trade that independence for anything, no matter how comforting it could be to have a family. The responsibility to them - and the crushing burden of guilt if you failed - was simply too great. He would never want to be tied down the way Davey was.

"So...uh...what'd ya think of Katherine?" Jack asked, changing the subject none-too-casually.

His companion gave him a knowing glance. "Does it matter what I think? The real question is what you think about her, Jack."

Jack felt an involuntary smile spread across his face. "She's incredible, Dave," he murmured.

"You two seemed to know each other," Davey remarked. "Before the conversation in the deli."

"I ran into her on the streets once when she was with another fella," Jack explained. "Saw her later that same day in Ms. Medda's theater. She was reviewin' the show, and I was there hidin' from Snyder."

"I know." Davey reminded him dryly, "I was there, too. Les and I were trying to figure out where you'd run off to."

Jack had completely forgotten that.

"So it was love at first sight, then?" Davey asked, sounding mildly unimpressed.

Jack snorted. "Love at first sight's for suckers, Dave. It was at least second or third sight."

Davey scoffed.

"Hey," Jack scowled defensively. "You tellin' me you ain't ever been smitten by a pretty girl?"

The other newsie gave him a disbelieving look. "Do you think I've had time for that kind of thing, Jack? I'm the perpetual new kid who doesn't make friends easily, remember?"

"Hey, what do you call me and the boys?" Jack protested, scowling in mock offense. "I know we ain't exactly long-time acquaintances yet…but that don't mean we ain't your friends, right?"

Davey was caught off guard, and it took him a moment to answer.

"Well," he faltered, "I...yes. I mean, yes - you are, if...if that's what you...want." He looked confused. And surprised. And maybe a little bit touched.

Jack shook his head, hiding a smile. What a sap.

"So that ain't an excuse, then," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "You do make friends easily. Still waitin' for your answer."

Davey sighed, his seriousness (and ability to speak clearly) returning. "Jack...I told you, I've never had the time. I didn't then, and I don't now. Between being a newsie, keeping Les out of trouble, and trying to not fall too far behind in school, my hands are full enough as it is, and my family's depending on me to make things work until my dad's better. I can't afford to get caught up in that sort of commitment."

Jack scoffed. "You ain't any fun, talkin' like it's some kinda big responsibility that needs to have a fifty-step plan or somethin.'"

"It is a big responsibility," Davey retorted. "And you shouldn't jump into anything like that without a plan."

"It's a big adventure," Jack corrected, "and you figure things out as you go, you stick-in-the-mud."

"Well...I'll leave you to your 'adventure,'" Davey answered, managing to sound both indulgent and wary at the same time (it probably came from being a big brother to Les, Jack thought). "But I'm warning you, Jack, if you go running off to chase Katherine again and leave me by myself to run the newsboy union, I'll…" he trailed off, clearly trying and failing to think of a suitable threat. "...well, I'll make you regret it," he concluded. "Somehow."

"I'm shakin' in my boots," Jack rolled his eyes.

"I mean it," Davey frowned. "You roped me into this strike, Jack, and if it wasn't for you - "

"Ah, shaddup, Davey." Jack shoved the other boy good-naturedly before he could continue his anxious scolding. He pushed a little too hard, though, and Davey ended up stumbling into a pile of empty boxes, knocking them over and landing in a heap amongst them. He looked completely ridiculous, and Jack couldn't stop the guffaw that burst from his mouth before he reigned in his laughter. At first, he thought that Davey would be annoyed at the involuntary show of mirth at his expense. But instead, a grin spread across his face, and Jack found himself smiling too as he helped the other boy to his feet.

"You's more of a light-weight than I thought if you's gonna get taken out that easily," he joked. "Don't your ma ever feed you, Dave?"

"If it was up to her, I'd eat five meals a day and be twice my size," Davey grumbled, dusting himself off. "Remind me to never let you talk to her about my eating habits; between the two of you, you'd make my life miserable."

Jack chuckled, and they continued walking.

"Hey, speaking of my folks, do you want to sleep over at our place tonight?" Davey asked suddenly. "It'll save you a trip back to the lodging house."

Jack forced his voice to sound casual. "Thanks for the invite, but I gotta head back," he said. "The boys'll be lookin' for me."

"Are you sure?" Davey persisted. "It's going to be really late by the time we get back to Manhattan."

"Yeah," Jack asserted. "I'm sure." He couldn't help adding, "besides, I dunno how your folks would feel about you invitin' over the reason why they ain't gonna have food on the table for the next few days until the strike gets settled."

"My parents aren't like that," Davey insisted. "They'd love to meet you. And...I'm just as much the reason for anyone going hungry as you. Don't blame yourself."

Despite the hasty reassurance, Jack could tell that the thought bothered Davey, who quickly lapsed into silence, the sober look on his face returning.

Now that the subject of the strike's implications had been broached, Jack found himself mulling over what it would mean for the newsies if their protest became a standoff lasting for several weeks. His boys were loyal, hot-headed, and brave - they would follow him into anything. But their impulsiveness went hand-in-hand with a general lack of patience, and the fact that most of them were forced to live day-to-day meant that very few of them had thought much about the future. Jack knew that a handful of the more mindful and ambitious newsies, like Specs and Jojo, had started slowly putting away some savings, but aside from that, the majority of his boys wouldn't be able to last long if the strike wasn't settled within a few days.

Davey, apparently, was having similar thoughts. "Will the newsies be all right?" he asked. "If the strike drags on, I mean?"

Jack waved his hand, gesturing noncommittally. "It ain't gonna be easy on them, but we's made it through some tough times before. I got some money saved, Race has his winnings from the track, and we got the Newsie Fund, so if we need to, we dig into that, and it ought to get us through for a bit...long as this strike ain't gonna drag on like the one started by the trolley workers." He doubted that the boys would be able to stick with it for that long even if the money didn't run out, but he chose not to say so.

"What about your folks?" he asked Davey. "They gonna be all right with you and Les bein' out of work?"

Davey grimaced. "I don't know," he said quietly. "That's...something I have to think about more. I know money is tight, and we don't want to lose the lease on our apartment. Our landlord is giving us a really reasonable rate, so we can't afford to jeopardize that. Paying the rent will probably be the first priority. And food. My dad really should see a doctor for his leg...I don't know if we'll be able to afford that, but if he doesn't get things properly taken care of, his leg might not heal correctly, which means that he could be out of work even longer, and that would be - " he broke off suddenly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean to ramble like that."

"It's okay, Dave," Jack said lightly. "I know you's worried about your folks."

"I still think going on strike was the right thing to do, though," Davey amended, a bit of his determination returning. "We can't just sit by and let the newspaper owners walk all over us. It's just that things are going to get a lot more difficult if the strike doesn't get settled quickly."

"Well, we just gotta hope that that ain't gonna be the case," Jack said confidently, clapping the other boy on the back. "And if worst comes to worst, I'm sure that big brain of yours'll come up with somethin.'"

"Me?" Davey sounded worried.

"Ain't you the one sayin' we always gotta have a plan for everything?" Jack joked.

"Well, yes," Davey rubbed the back of his neck. "But I don't think I'm really the best one to count on for ideas...at least, not ideas like that."

Jack chuckled quietly. "Give it a rest, Dave," he said, his tone mildly chiding. "You ain't gotta solve all the world's problems tonight."

They continued walking in silence for several minutes, and Jack's gaze was drawn upwards towards the night sky where the stars were just beginning to appear. The coolness of the evening air was soothing, and he found himself relaxing as the Brooklyn Bridge came into view. They would be back on familiar turf soon, and he wouldn't let down his guard until they did, but he didn't feel as on edge as he normally did when he was making his way back from Brooklyn after dark.

"Hey Davey," Jack said cheerfully, breaking the silence once again, "let me tell you about how Sniper got his newsie name. It all started when Race found one of them little baby skunks hidin' out back behind the lodging house..."

The three hour walk back to Manhattan didn't feel nearly as risky or as long when you had a friend to share the trip with.


A/N: If Newsies had been a novel or a TV show instead of a two hour and twenty-three minute long musical, we probably would have gotten to see Davey's friendships with the newsies develop a lot more slowly and naturally. As it is, he seems to go pretty quickly from "Who says we want a partner?" to being one of the gang and having a close friendship with Jack and the other boys. It's been an interesting challenge trying to stay true to these canon developments while also attempting to create supplementary material showing how these friendships could have solidified so quickly (or, alternately, trying to reflect a more "realistic" picture of things through little details like Davey not knowing all of the newsies' names right off the bat, etc.). Hence, chapters like the one you just read. It still feels rushed to me, but hopefully it feels at least a little less rushed. :) Anyway, thank you for reading, and please let me know what you thought of this chapter!