Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 40: Moving Forward
Jack found himself running again, stumbling blindly down side-streets and alleyways. His feet ached, his lungs burned, and the weight in his chest felt so heavy that he didn't know how he was still upright...but he kept running.
He'd been running for a very long time. Minutes? Hours?
It felt like hours.
He was free, and yet he was completely trapped, trapped with no friends, no future, no place to go…
Well, that last part wasn't completely true. The money was there, burning a hole in his pocket and pressing against him with every step that he took.
He'd almost thrown the stack of bills into the harbor as he'd passed in an irrational, desperate bid to free himself, but logic had kicked in just as he'd been about to do so, and with a desperate cry he'd checked his hand, clenching the money in his fist before shoving it angrily back into his pocket. Then he'd taken off running again.
Minutes (hours?) later, his legs finally gave out, and he slowed to a stop, leaning heavily against the wall of a now-deserted factory before eventually sliding down into a sitting position on the ground.
He pulled out the stack of bills and looked at it. It was probably a really foolish thing to do: he didn't know who might be watching, and this kind of money was definitely something that someone would be willing to mug him for - but that desperate, anguished side of him almost longed for a fight, for some way to vent his frustration, for a chance to be able to feel some kind of pain, anything to remind him that he was still human despite the terrible thing he had just done.
He couldn't forget the look on Davey's face.
Jack had seen more than his share of anger, disgust, and hostility in his seventeen years of life, but he wasn't used to seeing the expression that Davey had given him - the utterly bewildered look of someone who had been so trusting that the possibility of betrayal hadn't even crossed his mind.
Jack would have vastly preferred his anger.
Flipping distractedly through the stack of bills, he wondered when the next train out to Santa Fe would be leaving. He knew he'd have enough to afford a ticket - more than enough, actually - and he figured that it probably cost less to live out West than it did in New York, so he had the makings of a new life right here in his hands as long as he made smart decisions. He was young and strong and resourceful, and that along with the money would be enough to get him started.
Forcing himself to his feet, Jack got his bearings, then set off in the direction of the lodging house. He had a few personal belongings still on the rooftop and didn't want to leave his drawings behind either, so he would quietly collect them and then head straight to Grand Central Station, where he would stay until a train arrived to take him to his destination.
It was late enough where the boys would all be asleep, and even if some of them were on the rooftop, Jack knew his way around well enough where he wasn't worried about waking them. The one newsie he would have to watch out for would be Race, whose insomnia occasionally drove him to prowl restlessly about the lodging house like a panther. Jack had no doubt that if he happened to come across the gambler their confrontation would not end well, and he mentally prepared himself to run if it came to that. It would be hard to leave his things behind, but he didn't think he could face the disappointment of his second-in-command.
It seemed like disappointing people was all he did these days. He'd failed Crutchie. He'd failed Davey and Race. He'd failed the rest of the newsies. He'd made promises with every intention of keeping them...but all anyone had ever taught him was how to break them.
Unbidden, Jack's thoughts turned to Katherine. His anger against the former reporter had been simmering ever since the shocking revelation of her identity, and it flared to life again as he walked towards the lodging house, fury making his strides swift and purposeful. She was just as much of a double-crosser as he was - more, in fact, because he had at least tried to act with his boys' best interest at heart. But she had kept her connection with Pulitzer a secret and had duped them all.
He didn't know why he had trusted her.
His thoughts continued to churn angrily as he made his way back to the lodging house, slowing just a bit as he drew near to make sure that Race wasn't by some chance skulking about outside. After satisfying himself that the coast was clear, Jack made his way around to the back of the building and nimbly climbed up the fire escape that led to the roof.
No sooner had he made it to the top when a familiar voice - the last voice he expected or wanted to hear - reached his ears.
"Well, you sure made quite an impression at that rally."
"What - " Jack checked himself, unable to hide his surprise as he took in Katherine standing on the rooftop. "What are you doin' here?" he asked, trying to keep his ire under control.
"I came here to talk to you," she said as he climbed off of the fire escape and came towards her. A familiar sheaf of papers was in her hands, and at the sight, Jack's anger flared up hotter than before.
"Give me that!" he snarled, snatching the drawings from her grasp. These were some of his most personal sketches, memories of things that he couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried, memories that he never spoke of but poured onto paper those nights when he couldn't sleep until he'd let the memories bleed out of his mind and onto the page, memories that he didn't want anyone else to know about...least of all her.
"Who let'cha up here anyway?" he demanded, rolling the drawings up so she couldn't see them.
"Specs caught me as I was leaving Irving Hall to try to find you," she answered evenly. "He showed me the way back here and told me about your penthouse."
"And did he give you permission to snoop through my stuff?"
"I wasn't trying to snoop, Jack! I was just curious. I saw those drawings rolled up and wanted to see what they were."
He answered her explanation with a glare.
"Those drawings...they're heartbreaking," she said, refusing to respond to his anger in kind. "They're of The Refuge, aren't they?"
Jack didn't reply.
"Is that really what it's like in there?"
The compassion in her voice tugged at his heart before he angrily crushed the feeling. He would not let her touch him.
"You were expectin' somethin' different?" he sneered. "Maybe satin pillows and sheets and fine china to eat off of?"
The sarcastic jab seemed to have no effect on her. "Jack, I'm trying to understand," she pleaded.
"To understand what?" he snapped.
"To understand you! To understand why you would turn on your boys now when you were willing to go to jail for them in the past - because that's what Snyder was talking about, wasn't he? You have a criminal record because you stole food and clothing to help your boys who were in The Refuge!"
"Yeah, and what of it?" Jack asked defensively. He wasn't sure how she'd figured that out; it must have been her reporter's intuition or some kind of knowledge from the inside...but whatever the case, he didn't want to talk to her about the past.
"If you were willing to do that, why weren't you willing to go to jail for them again?" Katherine exclaimed. "What happened to your loyalty?"
"Oh, you are the last person 'round here who's got a right to be talkin' about loyalty," Jack snarled.
Of all the nerve!
"I have been nothing but loyal to you and the newsboys," Katherine retorted. "Would I be here if my sympathies didn't lie with the strike? Would I have been willing to put my career on the line and take the consequences and risk the fallout with my father if I didn't believe in you and in the cause?"
"You could've told us!" Jack shouted, not caring at that point who heard. "You could've told me!"
The last word came out sounding hurt and vulnerable, and he hated it.
"I would have, Jack," Katherine said, sounding a little agitated. "I was planning to tell you after the rally - I promise! I just didn't want you to have to think about something else when you already had so much on your mind!"
"Yeah, well keepin' that secret sure turned out well for both of us," he muttered darkly.
"Look, I'm sorry, Jack! If I could have known that this would happen, I would have told you about my father sooner! But it's too late for that, and if we want to have any hope of saving the strike - "
"The strike is over!" Jack hissed, feeling his fists clench in anger. If she weren't a girl… "It's over because of me!"
"And you can help get it back on track!" she countered. "If you'd just stop feeling sorry for yourself and listen to me for a moment, you'll see that it's not as hopeless as it looks."
"Last time I trusted you, you turned out to be a dirty rotten backstabber!" The accusation was unfair, and he knew it, but he was angry and hurt and she'd touched on his sensitive spots like it was nothing, and he would not forgive her for it.
Katherine's eyes narrowed. "Since we're talking about backstabbing," she said, her tone turning sharp, "let's talk about what you just did to Race. To Davey. To the rest of the newsies. How you sold out on them and on everything they worked so hard for, just to get some money - "
"It wasn't for the money!" Jack snapped. Was that what she really thought of him? That he'd double-cross his brothers just to line his own pockets?
"So prove to me that it wasn't!" she challenged, and he couldn't tell in that moment if he was more relieved that she didn't actually think it of him or more angry to realize that he'd fallen into the trap that she'd set so easily.
A terse silence descended.
"I - " Jack began, before stopping abruptly. He didn't owe her an explanation. He didn't have to prove anything to her. But pride made him want to vindicate himself, so he forced the words of explanation into the air.
"I did it to keep them safe. I couldn't - " his voice broke, and he made a sound of disgust, angry that he was showing weakness in front of her before continuing stiffly, "I couldn't let them get thrown into The Refuge."
There. He'd said it.
"And besides," he added in spite of himself, "your father's right: it's hopeless. We can't keep draggin' this out forever - we gotta be realistic! I don't want the boys to spend all of their reserves on the strike 'till they got nothin' left to live on, and that's what's gonna happen if things don't change soon!"
"'If' things don't change soon," Katherine repeated, giving him a knowing look. "But that's what I've been trying to tell you, Jack. Change is coming."
"Oh, sure," he scoffed.
"Were you this obstinate with Davey when he was trying to get you to rejoin the strike?" Katherine demanded.
He really didn't want to think about Davey right then.
When Jack failed to answer, Katherine muttered something under her breath about "the patience of Job" before continuing. "Look, I know this may seem hard to believe," she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "but you're not the only one who can come up with a good idea. And I've got an idea that I think will give us the victory we've been looking for."
She held a piece of paper up enticingly.
"The Newsies Banner...Children's Crusade," he read. She handed him the document, which he quickly perused as she looked on.
There were the words, the words of his speech at the distribution center, jumping right off of the page at him. How had she…? And why...?
Jack read on, comprehension slowly dawning upon him as her words intermingled with his, seamlessly woven into an impassioned plea that even his calloused, hurting heart was finding hard to ignore.
His hands gripped the paper a bit more tightly.
This here was something powerful.
With a wry smile, he looked up at Katherine. "So...we's gonna fight the papes with a pape of our own?" he asked, the irony not lost on him as he handed the document back to her.
She nodded eagerly. "My article, one of your drawings, all of the newsies distributing this all over New York - just think, Jack! Think of what this could do! We could have the whole city on strike! And there's no way the newspaper owners could ignore that."
"Yeah," Jack laughed, finding himself caught up in her enthusiasm. "Guess they couldn't."
He had to admit it was a brilliant idea. This was something that none of them had considered before, but the timing was right, and if anything had a chance of bringing the strike to a successful conclusion, it was something like this.
A thought suddenly crossed his mind. "The only problem is...where are we gonna print it?" he asked, reluctant to voice the objection. "Ain't a publisher in town who'll let us use their printin' press."
Katherine didn't answer. Apparently she hadn't thought of that.
For a moment it was silent as they both racked their brains for an answer.
Suddenly, the solution came to Jack.
Of course, he thought sardonically.
"I got it," he said aloud. Katherine looked up excitedly. "Your father - he's got an old printin' press down in his cellar," Jack began, "and no one would ever think we'd use it, so it's our best shot to - "
"Jack, that is genius!" Katherine exclaimed. She started towards the fire escape that led down from the rooftop. "Come on, let's get the boys on board and get to it!"
When he didn't move, she stopped, already halfway down the steps.
"Is something wrong?"
Jack hesitated. There was something wrong, but he wasn't sure he wanted to disclose it to her. She was waiting patiently, though...and she hadn't snapped back at him despite his surliness, and the moonlight was casting a pale glow in her hair that was making his artist's mind run wild with possibilities, and despite the fact that he'd been almost uncontrollably angry at her only a moment ago, that anger was already beginning to melt away...and he found himself wishing that things had been different - that they'd met under different circumstances, and that were just two people on the rooftop together without the strike or Pulitzer or The World complicating things.
"I guess I'm just wantin' to know what this is all about for you," he said, a little more gruffly than he intended. "Not this plan of yours. I mean...this." He gestured between them. "Us."
"Us?"
"Like when we was just talkin' at the theater," Jack elaborated. "Before things got messy with your father and the rally." He gave her a probing look. "I mean, I might be imaginin' things, but I kinda thought that maybe I wasn't the only one feelin' somethin'..."
Katherine climbed back onto the rooftop and walked over to him. "You weren't the only one feeling something," she said simply.
"But it's hopeless, ain't it?" Jack exclaimed, feeling caught between his elation at her words and his despair that nothing could come of their mutual confession. "I mean, girls like you don't wind up with bums like me!"
"Oh, and suddenly the rules matter to you, Jack?" Katherine asked with a little smile.
He couldn't find it in him to respond to her flippancy. "I just wanna know if this is somethin' that we's gonna fight for," he admitted, "or if it's just a passin' thing, and tomorrow's gonna change it all." The vulnerability that he'd been unsuccessfully trying to hide was there again, but this time he barely registered its presence. He really had to know.
"Jack…" Katherine began, "I never saw this coming. I didn't think this is how we'd end up, or that when I started following the strike I'd start having feelings for you." She took a step closer to him, and he saw that she was trying to match his honesty with her own. "I'm just as unsure as you are about how all this is going to turn out, and I can't tell you what tomorrow will bring...but I do want things between us to work."
She gave him a knowing look. "Besides, you still owe me a date."
Jack laughed, shaking his head in wonderment as he felt the rest of his frustration melting away. She really was something else - beautiful, smart, independent...and he couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around her.
They hadn't really come to a resolution - there was still too much that was unknown - but they'd come to an agreement that this wouldn't be the end for them, not today. And for Jack, that was just enough - even more than he'd hoped for.
"I guess it would be kinda rude of me not to take you to see that show eventually," he said aloud, giving Katherine a half-grin. "So, now that we's in agreement, Plumber, you wanna...you know...shake on it?" He held out his hand to her as it would have to one of the newsies (minus the spitting of course).
Katherine gave his hand a fleeting glance, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth and a breathless laugh escaping.
Then she looked confidently into Jack's eyes, pointedly ignoring his offer...and kissed him soundly on the lips instead.
A/N: So, to be completely honest, the conversation between Jack and Katherine right before "Something to Believe In" is one of my least-favorite scenes in the musical. The fact that Katherine resorts to surprise-kissing Jack in the middle of a heated argument rather than using her words to work through their differences seems like a slip in her character (who's always been more than capable of verbally sparring with - and occasionally besting - Jack). I think it's very natural that they would have strong emotions and frustrations in the moment and that they would act out of those things, but I think it would have shown their characters to greater effect (and would have actually been more romantic) if they'd talked through their feelings, heard each other out, come to an agreement together, and then kissed as a spontaneous act of affection rather than as a questionable conflict-resolution tactic. Of course, I know that's not how arguments always go, so the canon scene isn't really that out of left field I suppose...but since this is fanfiction, I did take the liberty of changing it up for this story. Thank you for reading it, and please let me know what you thought!
