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


Chapter 72: Twilight in Manhattan

The sight of day fading into night had always been one of Jack's favorite things to watch. There was something about the arrival of twilight that soothed him, the regular, predictable settling of the day easing his burdens while the shadows descended, purple and gray, and the sun slowly glimmered out in the distance. He hated the darkness of closed, confined spaces, but the duskiness of evening's arrival was something else altogether, something comforting and welcomed.

His penthouse afforded the best view of the city preparing itself for night, shop windows closing and gradually going dim, street lights blinking on, and the frenetic foot-traffic of the choked streets slowing to a trickle as people hurried home...but he had to admit that the view from the balcony of Katherine's apartment wasn't too shabby either. It would be hours before the city finally slept, but the movement towards repose had begun, and Jack felt some of the tension in his shoulders uncoil as he always did whenever he watched the day come to a close.

"Ain't that neat," he murmured as he watched the scene unfold and the curtain drop on yet another day. Beside him, Katherine smiled in agreement, her features still visible despite the gentle descent of darkness. Reaching over, Jack took her hand in his own, and together they watched as the first few stars of the evening appeared.

They'd decided to meet at Katherine's apartment that evening to discuss the recent developments of the situation involving Snyder (Jack preferring not to mention the subject in the other newsies' hearing), but as he considered the bewitching effect of the twilight playing across his sweetheart's face, he found himself wishing that they didn't have such serious plans on the agenda for that night.

"How was the meeting with your editor today?" Katherine asked, breaking the silence.

Jack shrugged. "Short," he replied. "He seemed to like my drawings." The editor, in fact, had rarely given the cartoons a second glance, but he'd taken them with a perfunctory nod and had barked at his secretary to give Jack his pay, so the illustrations must have been acceptable.

"You're settling into this new job well," Katherine remarked, and Jack squirmed inwardly at the pride in her voice. "It seems like it's been a good fit for you."

"Yeah, guess I'm makin' more of myself now than when I was just hawkin' headlines," he remarked, forcing a cheerful lilt into his voice. "What about you? You said you had some news about your investigation."

Katherine nodded. "I want your opinion on a few things, actually," she said. "I think I've gotten about as far as I can on my own, and now I have some decisions to make." She gently withdrew her hand, and Jack tried not to let his disappointment show as she produced a piece of paper where she'd written down some notes.

Looks like it's gonna be all business tonight, he thought, holding back a sigh.

"I already told you that my visit to The Refuge wasn't very helpful," Katherine began, her brow furrowing a bit as she scanned the paper. "I got a sense of the run-down conditions of the facilities, and I could certainly feel the tension there between the warden and the inmates, but I didn't get to see enough to draw reliable conclusions, not the kind that would validate the type of article I'm hoping to write."

She shook her head, and he could see the frustration on her face. "I wouldn't feel comfortable going off of my intuition alone; I need something more concrete to substantiate our call to action. I dug into the archives at The Sun to see if there had been anything written about The Refuge before, but everything I found was either years old or else not the kind of article that would be helpful."

"Probably mostly folks singin' Snyder's praises for so charitably reformin' the wayward youth and turnin' them from their delinquent ways," Jack remarked caustically.

Katherine gave him a sympathetic smile. "Yes, that was the gist of most of them," she admitted.

"What about Governor Roosevelt?" he asked, already half-suspecting the answer but wanting to be sure of it.

Katherine shook her head. "Miss Medda and I went to his office, but his aides wouldn't let us speak with him even after we told them who we were. They said we'd have to make an appointment, and the next available slot was months away." She gave Jack a wry smile. "I guess we got lucky the first time, being able to get him to come investigate my father's doings on such short notice. Perhaps that was the impetus, in fact - Father was never kind to Governor Roosevelt in his writing, and I'm sure the poor man was eager to settle the score."

Seeing Jack's face fall, Katherine added quickly, "We're not going to need luck this time, though. We've got our work cut out for us, but I'm even more determined to break this story open and expose The Refuge for what it is, governor or no governor." Determination settled over her features, and Jack felt a surge of affection swell up at her resolve.

"I have two important tasks next on my list," Katherine continued briskly, "and I think I know which one of them I'm going to tackle first, but I wanted to check with you to see what you thought." She glanced again at her notes. "I need to find an editor who will agree to publish my article, and I need to gather some firsthand accounts of life at The Refuge. Both tasks will need to be accomplished before we can move ahead."

Her eyes came up to meet Jack's. "I know revisiting memories of The Refuge will be hard for some of the boys, and I don't want to make them go through that if I don't have to, so my thought was that I would pursue finding an editor first. Once I'm certain we have someone willing to publish the story - either anonymously or under a different pen name - then I'll talk to the newsies. I'm not sure how long this will take; I have a friend at The Sun who might be willing to help me out, but she's been on vacation and won't be returning to the office until later this week."

Katherine hesitated, then added, "I actually made some inquiries over at The Tribune as well."

"Oh yeah?" Jack forced his voice to sound neutral. "Didn't know you had connections over there." It was mostly a lie, but there was a grain of truth in it; he was pretty sure he knew whom Katherine's connection was, but there was always a chance - albeit an infinitesimal one - that he could be wrong. And he wanted to hear her say it, at any rate.

"I don't have direct connections to an editor," Katherine clarified, noticeably reluctant to elaborate. "But you remember my friend, Darcy?"

"You mean that upper-cruster who did the printin' for us?" Jack asked, trying to make his forgetfulness sound genuine.

(Of course he remembered that pompous upstart).

"Yes, that's him." Katherine sounded relieved at Jack's feigned nonchalance. "His father owns The Tribune, so I took the liberty of asking Darcy if he thought there was any chance they might be willing to run our article."

Bet'cha he said no, seein' as it's helpin' a bunch of rag-tag nobodies he probably thinks is beneath his notice Jack thought. Thanks to Specs, he'd already known that Katherine had sought out Darcy's help, but he was relieved that she'd told him as much herself. He didn't know how he would have reacted if she had tried to hide it from him.

"So, what'd he say?" he asked.

Katherine hesitated again, and the sudden thought that maybe, in fact, she was hiding something made Jack begin to feel sullen.

"He said that he might be able to pull some strings at The Trib if we're absolutely sure that we can't find another option," Katherine said deliberately. "But I can tell that he wasn't enthusiastic about the idea."

Jack snorted. "Probably 'cause he ain't too keen on helpin' the types of folks who ain't got a nickel to their names."

"Jack, that's unfair," Katherine chided. "Darcy's not like that. He didn't say he wouldn't help us. He just doesn't want to have to get involved if he doesn't need to. He'd be putting himself on the line if he did, and this really isn't his fight - "

"So what's the plan, then?" Jack cut in, not wanting to discuss Darcy any more than necessary.

Katherine - with apparent effort - checked her retort, then took in a deep breath and said calmly, "If you think that you and the newsies can wait for another week or so, I'll speak to my contact at The Sun. She's our best chance of getting the article published, but I'll have to wait until she's taken care of the work that's piled up in her absence - she's going to be busy for a while, and if I'm going to ask her for a favor, I want to make sure I'm not doing it when she's already preoccupied with other things."

"The boys and I will be fine," Jack said quickly. They'd held out this long; they could watch their backs for another week or two if it meant finally getting The Refuge shut down. "You take whatever time you need."

Katherine nodded. "I'll speak with my contact as soon as possible." She looked at him, and her business-like demeanor suddenly softened a bit. "I know it hasn't been easy for all of you," she said, "but if you can just lay low for a while longer, all of this is going to be worth it." She reached out and placed her hand on his again, and Jack found his inward indignation melting away at the affirming touch.

"Thanks, Plumber," he said, squeezing her hand with his own. "I know you's doin' your best, and that you's gonna win this thing for us, no doubt about it. The boys and I can do our part, too; it ain't really askin' that much for us to keep a low profile and be on our best behavior." He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face at the last part - the fact was that it was a tall order for the rambunctious group of newsies to stay in line, but they had been made aware of the stakes and were doing their best.

Katherine must have caught the endearment in his expression, for she rewarded him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. "It's sweet to see you looking out for them," she murmured.

"Yeah, well," Jack shrugged modestly, "a fella does what he can." Taking advantage of the moment, he pulled her close and gave her a kiss on the cheek in return. Now that they'd finished discussing business, maybe they could get to what he was really looking forward to...

"Well, I guess that's all we need to discuss tonight," Katherine said suddenly, derailing Jack's train of intent in its tracks. "I ought to let you get home to your boys, and I've got an early morning at the office tomorrow."

"Right...sure," Jack agreed ruefully, letting her go and stepping back. He knew that she was right; it was getting later, and he should be heading back to the lodging house, even if he would have much preferred to stay there on the balcony for a while longer to steal a kiss or two.

Hiding his disappointment, Jack gave the former reporter a cheeky grin. "Guess I'll be seein' you around, Plumber," he said, adjusting his cap on his head.

"Tuesday lunch at Jacobi's?" she asked as he began making his way down the fire escape.

Jack nodded. "I'll be there." He made his way down to the street, then looked up and gave Katherine a little salute before turning around to head in the direction of the lodging house.

It was a bit of a walk, but Jack didn't mind the distance. It was hard to get away from the feeling of responsibility that rested heavy on his shoulders any time he was in familiar territory; he generally couldn't go more than a few blocks without running into one of his boys, and while he didn't mind it, sometimes it could be wearying to be called upon at any moment of the day. Katherine's upscale apartment was in a part of town that the newsies rarely frequented, and when Jack was there, he felt like he could leave his responsibilities behind...and simply be himself.

Duty called, however, and as his footsteps took him closer and closer to No. 9 Duane Street, Jack felt the weight of responsibility settle in the way the fog drew near off of the harbor.

The lodging house eventually came into view, and he slowed his pace, trying to decide if he wanted to stop by the bunk room before heading to the rooftop for the night. The late-October evening air was crisp, but it was still mild enough to make sleeping outside bearable. As winter drew near, he and Crutchie would have to abandon their penthouse and move indoors with the rest of the boys, but for now, they could save a few pennies by holding out a while longer.

Deciding that he wasn't in the mood for jocularity or for attending to the needs of the many boys who constantly vied for his attention whenever he made an appearance in the bunk room, Jack skirted the entrance of the lodging house and went around back to the fire escape. He climbed up carefully, stealing past the washroom window where he could hear Buttons and Elmer bickering over the last of the bar soap, then hoisted himself onto the rooftop.

It was deserted.

Jack made his way over to where he kept his blanket and his scant personal belongings and wearily sat down, looking up at the sky to see if he could catch a glimpse of the stars in the steadily-deepening night.

He'd only been there for a minute or two when the fire escape rattled and footsteps sounded on the metal structure. Jack turned to see Crutchie making his way slowly onto the rooftop, first pushing his crutch to safety, and then pulling himself up after it. Jack would have hurried over to help him, but he'd learned a while back that Crutchie would ask for help when he needed it; most other times, he preferred to handle things on his own.

"You turnin' in early tonight?" Jack asked conversationally. Crutchie usually came up to the rooftop before it was time for lights out in the bunk room, but it seemed a little early, even for him.

"I saw you sneakin' up and was actually hopin' to talk to ya," Crutchie grunted, pushing himself into a standing position and re-adjusting his crutch before making his way over to where Jack was seated. "You plannin' on turnin' in early yourself, though?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah," he answered, scooting over and moving his blanket so that Crutchie could have room to sit beside him. The other newsie eased himself down, setting his crutch aside, and together they watched the stars for a moment, the way they always did in the evenings when the day was done and the night had fallen and they could put a day of hawking headlines, selling and speaking and dealing in words, to rest.

In moments like these, no words were needed.

After several minutes, Crutchie broke the silence. "Sure missed this when I was in The Refuge," he said with a little smile and a shake of his head. "Guess you don't know what you's missin' 'till it's gone, huh?"

Jack shifted uncomfortably, the tranquility of the evening completely dashed as he felt himself immediately tense up at the mention of The Refuge. "Yeah," he agreed, trying to inject some lightheartedness into his voice. "Guess you don't."

Crutchie glanced at him then, and Jack had only a moment to register the questioning look in his friend's eyes before the other boy said softly, "Jacky...we gotta talk about it. About what happened while I was in The Refuge. It ain't doin' either of us any good to keep dancin' around it like this."

Jack fought the almost-instinctive urge to jump to his feet and make a break for the fire escape. He knew that it wasn't fair to keep Crutchie in the dark, and in the back of his mind, he'd always known that this conversation would have to come up at some point, but he'd pushed it aside, because the newsies had kept quiet about it and Crutchie hadn't pressed him and there had been a part of Jack that had been hoping maybe it could stay that way.

He wasn't ready. He wasn't ready to revisit the depth of his failure, let alone admit it to the one who had suffered the most, who had taken the fallout for the rest of them even if he hadn't done a single thing to deserve it. He wasn't ready to see the disappointment in Crutchie's eyes, to be once again crushed by the awful reminder that he had failed, failed to keep his brother safe. All he wanted to do was run, the way he had after the brawl when instinct had overtaken him and he'd fled the scene, his vision blurring as he'd stumbled blindly down streets, barely conscious of where he was going, only knowing that he had to get away from the terrible sound of Crutchie's screams...

But this time, he couldn't run away.

Memories of a crumpled, tear-stained letter came back to Jack, and he could almost see the words leaping off of the page as the familiar feeling of guilt flooded through him:

I miss the rooftop, the open air, the cool breeze, and mostly you, Jack. That's the worst part about this place -

Jack clenched his hands into fists, willing himself to stop replaying the letter in his head. Crutchie was safe - he was here, back at the penthouse where he belonged. That letter no longer represented reality. It was the past. The past. The past -

"Crutchie…" he began, forcing the word into the air. His brother was waiting for him to speak, and Jack knew that he needed to come clean. But that one word was as far as he got before a sob involuntarily welled up in his throat, choking off the rest of what he'd been about to say.

Under almost any other circumstances, he would have forced back the tears even if it killed him, but the guilt and the memories were crushing, and even if he didn't want to acknowledge them, he wanted desperately to be free from their hold, to be able to speak openly with Crutchie again, to look the other newsie in the eye without the shame of this unspoken secret hanging between them.

"I didn't mean to run on you at the distribution center," Jack choked out, trying his best to speak through the lump in his throat. "I promise, I didn't mean to - " Another reflexive sob escaped, cutting his assertion short, and he had to stop for a moment to collect himself.

"I know I should've gone back for you," he continued, his voice shaking, "But I was just so scared! And I know I wasn't there for you like I should've been when you was in The Refuge, either! I tried to come to see you, but I just couldn't - " He stopped abruptly, swiping his tears away in disgust, too overcome with emotion to go on.

He was angry. Angry at himself and at his failure. Angry that everything he said came out sounding so paltry, so weak, so insufficient. Words couldn't fix this, he thought bitterly. Words wouldn't absolve him. Words wouldn't change a single damn thing.

He felt Crutchie's hand on his shoulder.

"Jacky," the younger boy said simply, "I ain't mad at you."

"Yeah, well, you should be!" Jack shook him off. "You should be! I let'cha down!"

Crutchie was quiet, and for a moment, the only sound was that of Jack's ragged breathing, his shoulders hunched under the weight of his anguish, and his mind replaying those words over and over.

I let you down! I promised I wouldn't. I said I'd keep you safe. I told you a family looks out for each other. And then I let you down.

"Brothers do that sometimes," Crutchie said suddenly.

"Wh-what?" Jack choked out.

"Brothers do that sometimes," Crutchie repeated softly, looking into his eyes. "But that don't mean they stop bein' family...right?"

Jack turned away, too ashamed to answer.

"Brothers don't haf'ta be perfect, Jacky," Crutchie repeated, placing his hand on Jack's shoulder again. "That's the whole point: we's there for each other no matter what happens, no matter how bad either one of us messes up. This ain't somethin' that's only good when things is goin' good. That's what I was tryin' to tell you when I wrote that letter."

Jack let out a shuddering breath, not wanting to remember, and Crutchie's hand gripped his shoulder more firmly.

"You's still my brother, Jacky," he said firmly. "Nothin' you did is going to change that."

"It ain't just you I failed!" Jack burst out. He might as well lay it all on the table. "I didn't go back to the lodgin' house after I ran - I left the rest of the boys, too, left 'em to go it alone, left Racer and Dave to pick up the pieces. I didn't come back 'till things was mostly settled already, right before we got you back."

To his astonishment, Crutchie didn't seem surprised or upset by the disclosure.

"They told you?" Jack asked defensively, assuming that one of the newsies had finally broken the silence and divulged the truth.

Crutchie shook his head. "None of 'em has said a word about it to me, but I figured somethin' must've happened from the way everyone was keepin' quiet about the details. Pretty sure they was tryin' to give you the chance to talk to me yourself."

Jack shook his head, unable to say anything in response. He didn't know why the newsies had done him that kindness, refusing to expose his failure even after he'd let them down, but their unwavering show of loyalty surprised and touched him. He didn't deserve it...but they'd given it to him anyway. And Crutchie - the person whom he'd failed the most - was now extending the very same kindness.

In his heart, Jack knew he'd be a fool not to take it.

"I'm sorry, Crutchie," he muttered, still unsure of what to say. "I'm so sorry…"

"Hey," the other newsie gave him a one-armed hug. "It's all right. Like I toldja, you's still my brother. We got a lot of adventures ahead of us before you's gonna be rid of me." He grinned, and Jack managed to crack a half-smile in return.

"Speakin' of adventures," Crutchie said cheerfully, "before we call it a night, let me tell you 'bout a place, just for a moment - a place we's gonna be goin' together some day." He looked over at Jack, his unmatchable trademark grin spreading across his face. "You gotta close your eyes, though, if you wanna see it good and proper."

Jack closed his eyes indulgently, feeling his smile growing as he did so.

Crutchie began to speak.

"The place I'm gonna tell you about is real special. It ain't far from here, 'specially not if you's a dreamer, and it feels like home, even if you's only just arrivin' for the very first time. It's got big, wide open spaces, fresh air, and green grass goin' on and on as far as a fella can see…"

Jack felt himself relaxing as Crutchie's voice carried him away from the rooftop, the guilt that had so heavily weighed upon him for months gradually dissipating as though he was leaving it behind, too. And as he listened to the words of his brother and felt Crutchie's reassuring hand on his shoulder, as he remembered the relentless determination in Katherine's eyes as she vowed to put an end to The Refuge for good, things suddenly felt lighter and freer...

And Santa Fe seemed closer and more vividly real than it ever had before.