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


Chapter 115: The Snake Strikes

The last day of the year was generally a busy one at The New York Sun. Despite the fact that Katherine was still a relatively new employee compared to many of her more seasoned colleagues, she'd been through a few closing seasons before, first as a clerk just trying to get her foot in the door, then later during her relatively short stint as a reporter for the social pages.

She would be ending 1899 in yet another role: that of a blacklisted writer who - with the aid of two allies and the tacit approval of her supervisors - had successfully defied the most powerful newspaper owner in the city in spite of his efforts to keep her quiet. Against all odds, she'd put out a story that had piqued public conscience and had led to change, and for the second time that year, Katherine felt a swell of pride in her accomplishment, the same thrill that she'd felt when her article on the newsboy strike had first appeared in print.

That's how things get better, she thought with satisfaction. There were so many who underestimated the power of the pen, the power of the press, and the power of a woman deeply driven on behalf of a cause. She'd dealt with their indifference, skepticism, and ire for as long as she'd wanted to be a reporter. But in moments like these, when the evidence of progress was right there in front of her, all those years of patient, stubborn endurance seemed to fall away, for these moments of triumph were the ones that she lived for.

In her hands was a letter that had arrived that morning from Governor Roosevelt's office. It had been written by one of his aides and addressed to Lena, but the older woman must have left it on Katherine's desk earlier that morning for her to see when she arrived. In the missive was the welcome news that the investigation of The Refuge had been completed, and that the institution had, indeed, been completely shut down for reform. The evidence gathered during the search would be used in Snyder's pending trial, and the rest of his staff had been summarily dismissed (with the possibility of a few even facing charges themselves). The inmates had been temporarily housed offsite until improvements could be made (for the plan was to renovate the facility and its extensive grounds so that it could be used in a way more beneficial to its occupants and suited to its original purpose), and a new overseer had been installed, a man from the Governor's own office whom Roosevelt believed would "tackle the endeavor with the thoughtfulness and diligence that it deserved."

The letter closed with some brief words of thanks for "Ms. McClain's" article and its "heartfelt but tastefully rendered call to action," and as Katherine folded it up and slid it back into the envelope, she found herself relieved that Jack had followed his conscience and refused Pulitzer's order to satirize the Governor in a political cartoon for The World. Roosevelt might not have been quick to fulfill his promise, but at the end of the day, he'd come through, and they owed him their gratitude.

Deeply pleased, Katherine made her way over to Lena's office, the letter in hand. The older woman generally started her work day an hour and a half before Katherine did, so she was probably well into her morning tasks, consulting with a colleague or poring over a photo spread with Thom, but Katherine was sure she wouldn't mind a brief interruption so that they could celebrate the good news.

The door to the office was open, and Katherine swept in, all exuberance and eager anticipation.

"Good morning, Lena! What wonderful – "

She stopped short as the sight of an empty desk met her eyes.

Katherine stared at it in shock. Lena's belongings - the framed photo of her family out West, the little handmade caddy where she kept her pens, and the drawing that had hung next to her work space - were gone, and her nameplate was nowhere in sight. The files that were usually opened in use on her desk had been stacked neatly off to one side, and the typewriter sat next to them, silent and sober, as though it had just witnessed something unspeakable.

"Hello, Kath."

Lena's voice startled Katherine out of her bewilderment, and she turned to see the older woman standing in the doorway, her handbag over her shoulder and a leather bound portfolio in her hand.

"Lena...what happened?"

Her colleague smiled tersely. "They let me go. My supervisor called me to his office this morning and informed me that they were terminating my employment immediately in response to the pressure they'd received from Joseph Pulitzer at The World. Apparently, he wasn't too happy about that article that we published on The Refuge earlier this month. He threatened to take action against The Sun if they didn't immediately fire the reporter who wrote it."

A chill washed over Katherine.

"It should have been me, Lena," she murmured. If only she'd gone to see her father after receiving his cryptic missive the week before, perhaps she could have prevented this! Lena didn't deserve to lose her job when Katherine was the one behind the article, and both she and her father knew it. But it was just like the man to strike at the innocent and helpless, because he knew that by doing so he'd hurt Katherine more than if he'd attacked her directly.

Anger blazed up, immediately replacing the chill.

"What I don't understand is why Mr. Pulitzer decided to take action against an unknown reporter," Lena said, breaking into Katherine's thoughts. "We've never met, and I doubt he's read any of the articles I've published before. It seems strange that he'd act so vindictively against someone he'd completely ignored up until that point. Unless he figured out that I was just a cover for you and is angry that we defied his blacklisting order…though then we're back at the same question of why he would go after you."

There was, of course, a simple answer to Lena's musing, but Katherine had gone this long without divulging her connection to Pulitzer for professional reasons, and she didn't want to break her silence now.

"He's a spiteful, controlling old man who has no qualms about abusing his power," she said instead, and though she tried to frame it as a statement, it came out sounding like invective instead. Anyone else in the business wouldn't have been able to levy such threats or extend his power in such an overreaching way, and a part of Katherine was furious at her supervisors for allowing Lena to take the fall rather than defying Pulitzer's demands…

...but knowing the man the way she did, she couldn't completely blame them, either. Her father would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, and if he decided to press The Sun further, Lena's job wouldn't be the only casualty.

"Well, I just came to say goodbye," the older woman said matter-of-factly. "I've already spoken with Thom and Jenny and the others, and my things are downstairs, so I should probably be heading along." She smiled slightly. "The Sun paid for a carriage to take me back to my apartment so that I didn't have to walk a mile and a half in the snow with my box of personal belongings, so I might as well enjoy that little indulgence. Maybe I'll even stop by Delmonico's and treat myself to lunch."

"Small favors," Katherine muttered.

"I think they feel badly about it."

"Well, they should!" Katherine burst out, unable to contain her fury. "What they're doing is reprehensible!"

"They're doing it under duress," Lena reminded her. "We all know the power that The World holds over this city and the newspaper business in particular. There was nothing they could have done."

She paused, looking around the office and taking in the sight of it one last time.

"As unhappy an ending as this is, I'm grateful for the time I had here. It wasn't a walk in the park as you well know, but this place has let us carve out our own niches and allowed us to thrive in our own way, even if those opportunities were riddled with obstacles. We might not be so lucky elsewhere."

She looked Katherine in the eye. "And that's why I don't want you to go to war with our supervisors about this, Kath," she said firmly. "I know that injustice grieves you, but these are not bad men, and they're not the enemy. They're only doing what's best for the business so that more people don't lose their jobs. And I don't want you to lose yours in a futile attempt to reinstate mine."

Katherine shook her head, still unwilling to accept her colleague's acquiescence, even if she knew that there was truth in what the woman was saying. "You didn't deserve this, Lena," she insisted. "And it's my fault - I shouldn't have agreed to let you help me."

"I knew the risks, and I was willing to take them."

"But Pulitzer - "

"Mr. Pulitzer will eventually have to come to terms with his own actions," Lena said calmly. "But in the meantime, we move forward." She put a reassuring hand on Katherine's shoulder. "My work here may have come to an end, Kath, but yours hasn't. You need to focus on what's in front of you. If you could already change so much in the span of a few months with just two well-written stories, imagine where you'll be a year from now." Her voice lowered as she added, "Don't throw away that opportunity."

It was the most forthright she had ever been, and Katherine felt herself tearing up.

"Lena…"

"I'll be fine," the older woman said briskly. Catching sight of the letter in Katherine's hands, she motioned to it in recognition. "Keep that with you...and when you see it, remember all you are capable of, no matter what anyone says to the contrary." She squeezed Katherine's shoulder, and for a moment, there seemed to be a glimmer of tears in her own eyes...but before anything more could be said, Lena dropped her hand.

"Goodbye, Kath," she said softly.

And then she turned around and left the office, disappearing almost immediately from sight.


Katherine seethed and brooded the entire morning and into the afternoon, throwing herself into her work with a vengeance and barely lifting her head to speak to anyone who passed by her desk.

Thom was the one exception. The photographer made a brief stop at her alcove, gravely but kindly asking if she was all right, and Katherine had nearly thrown her arms around him in an impulsive hug of grief and dismay, for he felt like the only friend that she had now in this place, and she realized that if The Sun had not quickly agreed to Pulitzer's demands and fired Lena, Thom, as one who had also worked on the incendiary article, very well might have lost his job in the aftermath, too.

The sobering thought only stoked the flames of Katherine's ire. How far would her father go to prove his totalitarian authority? And how much would he try to take from her in order to get what he wanted? First, it had been her job as a reporter, and then her growing relationship with Jack, and now the employment of her colleague and friend at The Sun... The man would stop at nothing, she concluded, and she'd absolutely had it with his conniving manipulation.

It was time to confront the serpent in his own den.

She'd avoided responding when he'd first tried to draw her out with his letter, but that had been a mistake, and he'd made it clear that if she did not come to him, he'd continue applying pressure until she gave in. It galled to capitulate to his machinations, but she couldn't let anyone else suffer for her sake.

Accordingly, after she'd finished her work for the day, she turned her steps not towards her own apartment, but in the direction of the imposing New York World building, which sat next door to The Sun. Her father invariably worked late, so she knew that he would be still in his office, and Hannah would likely be gone for the day, which would be better, for Katherine did not want the good-hearted secretary to get caught in the crossfire that was sure to follow.

It was a short walk, but Katherine took her time. The passing hours had done nothing to mollify her anger, and she was ready for a fight, but she knew that if she wanted to emerge from this encounter with her dignity intact, she needed to keep a cool head, and that was no small feat for her, especially when she was riled up like this.

At least some tangible benefits had come from this mess, she reflected. After years of living in terror, the newsies could finally rest easy: Snyder and The Refuge were gone for good. Jack would be able to walk the streets unafraid now, knowing that his boys were safe, and maybe in time they would all be able to heal from the deep scars that had been left by their harrowing experiences under the nefarious warden's abuses.

No matter what happens next, you did what you set out to do, Katherine told herself as she climbed the steps to The World's entrance. As with the newsboy strike, victory this time had come at a cost - and the entirety of the toll was yet to be determined - but victory was already hers. Her father could stomp and bluster and throw his weight around all he wanted, but he couldn't take away her triumph, and she needed to remember that as she went in to face him now.

Willie, the janitor, answered her brisk knock on the door, and he quickly let her in, amicable as always. Declining his offer to use the elevator, Katherine took the stairs instead, taking advantage of the long walk up to her father's office to further settle into the persona that she wished to project during the impending confrontation.

Calm. Collected. In control.

Her thoughts turned to Jack, who had recently moved back to the lodging house with Crutchie and would probably be ending his day of selling around now. He would be ecstatic to hear the news about The Refuge, and probably even more relieved that he hadn't caved to Pulitzer's demands to draw up an anti-Roosevelt cartoon now that the Governor had indeed made good on his promises. Jack's editor at The World hadn't been pleased when the former had shown up empty-handed on the day of the cartoon's deadline, but he hadn't taken action against the newsie's polite (if firm) refusal of the assignment, either, so Jack had come to the conclusion that Pulitzer had only been bluffing and that the whole situation had been a test and nothing more.

Katherine hadn't been so sure, and inwardly she'd been bracing herself for the likelihood of Jack losing his job, something she almost expected her father to enact in swift retaliation...but she hadn't expected that the cost of defiance would be not Jack's employment, but Lena's instead.

Remember all you're capable of, no matter what anyone says to the contrary, the older woman's parting words echoed in Katherine's head. She clung to those words now, tucking them away like a token close to her heart, and as she made her way up the remaining flights of stairs and mounted the landing that would lead her to her father's office, she settled into her resolve, finally ready to face what lay ahead.

As she'd expected, Hannah's desk sat empty, but a light was on in her father's office, and the door was slightly ajar. Katherine walked over and knocked - firmly but politely - then made her way into the room without waiting for an invitation to enter.

Pulitzer was sitting at his desk, poring over his ledgers as usual, and he didn't even look up as she came towards him. It was only when she'd come to a stop in front of his desk and had waited for a moment that he deigned to speak.

"So, you finally decided to come see me, Kit."

His tone was decidedly smug, and Katherine bit back the indignation already rising in her gut as her opponent looked up with slow deliberation, removing his spectacles and apprising her with a self-satisfied eye.

Calm. Collected. In control.

"You had no place forcing The Sun to fire Lena," she said aloud.

"'No place'?" Her father sounded mildly amused. "My dear, I had every place to instigate Ms. McClain's termination. I sent you a warning several days ago, if you recall, but when I received no answer, I had to resort to more drastic measures. You're lucky, in fact, that I didn't force your supervisors to dismiss the entire staff who had a hand in your article's publication. I made it clear back in July that you were blacklisted from writing any more stories, and that retribution would be swift for any newspaper that defied my order. Your supervisors chose to skirt the limits of that command by keeping you on as an employee, a slight that I generously overlooked, but when they tried to undermine me by letting you publish under another writer's name, I couldn't let their insubordination pass any longer."

"Why didn't you tell them to fire me, then?" Katherine asked tersely. "Why did you choose to end the job - and maybe the career - of a woman who'd done you no wrong?"

"Because you wouldn't have learned your lesson otherwise, Kit," he replied with infuriating calmness. "And Ms. McClain, from what I understand, has been in the game long enough to know that she was sticking her nose into something that was none of her business. As a professional, she took a calculated risk by covering for you - and lost. It's as simple as that."

Katherine bristled at the dismissal. "People are just pawns to you, aren't they, Father?" she accused, feeling her control slip but too bitter at his indifference to bite back her words. "We're nothing more than pieces on a chessboard that you can move and remove at will from your seat high above, because you know that you're untouchable up here and can do what you want while completely ignoring the sufferings of the people down below, people who actually have to work to eke out their livings and - "

"Do not presume to lecture me on my privileged position, Katherine!" her father thundered, an anger suddenly blazing in his eyes that Katherine recognized as a mire of her own growing ire. Pulitzer hadn't moved a muscle, didn't rise or raise a hand, but his shoulders were rigid, and his hands were tense on the arms of his chair.

"You know nothing of what I suffered, or of what I had to sacrifice," he continued after a moment of tense silence. "All you've known is a life of ease and abundance, comforts you were able to enjoy precisely because I worked my way up from the dust of poverty to where I am now so that I - and the rest of my future family - could have a better life." His gaze bore into Katherine's. "You have no idea what I had to endure: sleeping out in the cold in abandoned wagons on deserted side streets, stowing away in boxcars traveling cross-country, starving and scrabbling and barely scraping by, knowing nothing of this country and precious little of the language, a despised and downtrodden foreigner without a penny to my name!"

The subject had clearly touched a nerve, for she could see the agitation in his eyes, something that was unfamiliar to her, for even in moments of discomposure, he generally liked to stay in control.

But almost as soon as that discomfiture had registered, it was gone, replaced by the calculatingly cool gaze of the man she knew who kept his emotions tightly coiled and who gave vent to his anger - and any other feelings he chose to exhibit - without really letting them touch him at his core.

"At any rate," Pulitzer continued stiffly, shifting a little in his chair, "my humble beginnings didn't stop me. I kept fighting, because I was determined to make something of myself. I fed animals, waited on tables, recorded railroad deeds, worked my way through a laundry list of distasteful and uninteresting jobs before I finally began to make headway in the political sphere and broke into the newspaper business."

He paused, looking at Katherine sharply as though trying to gauge her reaction. The information he'd disclosed was slightly shocking - she'd known that her father had immigrated as a young man and that he'd dabbled in a number of jobs to make ends meet before his career had taken off, but he'd rarely spoken of those early years previous to this encounter, preferring instead to focus on his current and much more enviable situation.

"So, you see, Katherine," the man continued, "contrary to your accusations, I am far from unacquainted with the trials and tribulations suffered by the working class. I know it's probably difficult for you to believe that the scruffy young ruffians you've attached yourself to lately aren't really so different from the way your own father started out, but the fact of the matter is that we share a common point of origin.

"However," he continued pointedly, "there is one fundamental difference between us. And that is what we chose to make of the opportunities that were put in front of us. This is why - " and here his tone became even more steely, " - I have little reason to think highly of your recent beau, Jack Kelly. He's clearly a charismatic, charming young man, but he has no ambition and little appreciation for the generous boons that are dropped straight into his lap. His recent flippancy in dismissing the latest assignment I gave him is proof of that."

"You asked Jack to go against his conscience and satirize a man he admires," Katherine retorted.

As though it had merely been a glib, offhanded choice!

"And I assured Mr. Kelly that it wasn't the first time he'd have to get over his pangs of conscience if he wished to stay in this business," her father countered calmly. "The boy has to learn that life isn't always going to turn out in his favor the way the strike did. It's all well and good to wave your lofty ideals in the face of the powers that be when you've got nothing to lose and only your own mouth to feed, but when you have a family depending on you, moral scruples must occasionally be set aside - unless you want to see those depending on you end up on the streets because you failed to provide for them."

Pulitzer sat back in his chair, folding his hands in front of him and pausing for a moment. "Mr. Kelly has talent," he admitted. "Real talent. There's no doubt in my mind that with the right patronage and the right work ethic, he could make a respectable man of himself. But if he's not willing to do the hard work and pay his dues, he'll find that the doors of opportunity are fewer and further between the longer he delays stepping through them."

Pulitzer sighed, sounding unusually tired as he added, "He can't stay a newsboy forever, Kit. If he truly cares about you, he needs to think about the future and about how he's going to prove himself worthy of you."

"Jack doesn't need to prove anything."

"You say that because you're in a place of comfortable privilege," her father contended. "His income - or lack thereof - and his prospects for establishing a stable career mean nothing to you because you think yourself financially independent, regardless of how much either of you bring in. A heiress can indulge in whatever romantic flights of fancy she wishes and remain fiscally untouched, even if her reputation becomes tarnished in the process, because she has more than enough money to live off of without lifting a finger." He gave her a shrewd look. "But I think you've forgotten that even if you're financially independent of Mr. Kelly, you are not financially independent of me."

The weighted statement hung in the air, and Katherine found her composure slipping as she tried to ascertain exactly what her father was trying to say. He wasn't the kind to make empty threats, but what he was insinuating was…

Well, it was something extremely serious.

"You told me that you respected my self-determination, Father," she hedged, hoping that she could talk him back from the near-ultimatum he seemed to be closer to delivering at any moment. "When I got my job at The Sun, you were disappointed that I hadn't chosen to work for you, but you admitted that you were proud of me for striking out on my own without relying on the family name or fortune to pave my way. You said it was the Pulitzer spirit showing up, that need to prove yourself despite the odds."

"I was proud of you, Kit," her father agreed. "As much as your approach was unconventional and, from a social standpoint, unnecessary and ill-advised, it showed initiative and spunk, and you worked your way from the ground up to that reporter position, much as I did. You deserved the recognition you received for the story you wrote on the strike. "

Katherine couldn't hide her astonishment at the frank admission, but before she could say anything, Pulitzer smiled ironically and added, "It's just unfortunate that you chose to go up against me for your first foray into the world of real reporting. And a pity that the result of that decision was the end of your fledgling career."

There was no remorse in his voice whatsoever, and Katherine's ire quickly returned. It always came down to this, she reflected. Whenever their complicated professional relationship was at stake, work always won, and she was just like any other expendable reporter in the field, a faceless casualty easily dispatched and forgotten - except for circumstances like these where her father seemed determined to meddle in the affairs of her personal life.

"Why do you play these games, Father?" she asked, exasperated. "You pretend to affect professional aloofness, but insist on privately pulling strings to manipulate my responses!"

"I'm not about to let my daughter throw away her prospects for a boy who will simply drag her back to the life of poverty that I worked so hard to claw my way out of," Pulitzer answered plainly.

"It seems hypocritical of you to despise Jack for his poverty," Katherine shot back. "You just finished telling me how you started off much the same as he did."

"I don't despise Mr. Kelly for his poverty," her father clarified. "What I despise is his lack of ambition and his inability to take advantage of the opportunities that come his way. I offered him the chance of a lifetime and a way to get off the streets not once, but twice: first by extending an obscenely generous amount of money as a reward to end the strike, and later by practically handing him a promising career at The World on a silver platter. Both times he took me up on the offer, but later reneged when the going got tough. That doesn't say much for his capacity to honor his commitments. Perhaps you ought to be taking that under consideration if you're still planning on a future that includes him."

"Jack couldn't follow through on those offers because he has a conscience," Katherine countered. "He cares about other people. He's not a backstabber." Like you, was the unspoken addendum.

"Not being a backstabber is perhaps one of the things that Mr. Kelly has going for him," her father agreed, a bit sarcastically. "But as I said before, lofty principles will not put food on the table or a roof over his family's head. This harsh fact of existence is a real-life lesson in economics that idealists like him must learn. And might I remind you that he agreed to both of my offers before later changing his mind? He's not a saint by any means - at least a part of him was willing to entertain the thought of betraying the strike and the Governor."

"Your first offer was a no-win situation," Katherine retorted, frustrated at her father's subtle manipulation of the facts. "Jack had to speak against the strike and turn on his friends in order to protect them! And he technically never agreed to draw up a cartoon denouncing Roosevelt. He just didn't refuse outright."

"Whatever the case, he seems to be a changeable young man with little sense of direction," Pulitzer shrugged. "And he's no fit match for my daughter."

"I don't believe you're the final authority on that, Father."

"Clearly not," he conceded. "You've chosen to continue your dalliance with Mr. Kelly despite my remonstrations, and I can see from this conversation that it's simply going to be a waste of my time to persist in trying to get you to see reason." His eyes narrowed. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to passively sit by while you recklessly throw away your future."

Here comes the ultimatum, Katherine thought.

"I'm giving you the choice, Kit," her father said soberly. "You can come to your senses and change direction...or you can continue to live an idealistic, ill-fated fantasy. If you choose the former - if you break off your relationship with Mr. Kelly, at least until he manages to make something of himself and commits to a respectable form of employment, and if you leave your dead-end job at The Sun and come here to work for me - I'll ensure that you continue to live as comfortably as you always have up to this point. But if you choose the latter - if you stubbornly insist on living off of my hard-earned money while willfully defying my counsel, I'll have no choice but to cut off your allowance and suspend your inheritance. This will force you and Mr. Kelly to think long and hard about your future together, and to assume responsibility for it rather than simply living off of my benevolence."

The insinuations in his words were galling, and Katherine's remaining hold on her own temper snapped.

"I thought you were a better man than that, Father. After everything you've done, to disown your own daughter just because - "

"I'm not disowning you, Katherine," Pulitzer interjected. "I'm simply allowing you to make your own choices and to live with their consequences, something I'm coming to see I ought to have done sooner. No one indulged and coddled me, and in giving you a life of unearned and unacknowledged privilege, it seems I've failed to teach you that lesson." He looked at her gravely. "But I'm rectifying that oversight today. The choice is yours. Think about it for a few days if you must, but if I don't hear from you in a week, I'm going to assume that you've chosen to make your own way without my assistance, and my financial support of you shall be adjusted accordingly."

So saying, he picked up his spectacles and pointedly returned to poring over his ledger, appearing no more ruffled in his dismissal than if he'd simply been discussing plans for lunch or the following day's weather.

Katherine stood there for a moment, trying to steady her emotions and reign in her anger before responding. Her father may have had a valid point or two, but his condescending, supercilious way of delivering his ultimatum had rankled, and she resented the fact that, once again, he'd chosen to deal with her in a parental, heavy-handed way, treating her as a spoiled child rather than as a fellow adult and professional who deserved his respect.

It wasn't as though she and Jack were simply leaching off of the family fortune, idling away their time and doing what they pleased. They both had incomes - or at least, they did for now - and while the money that they brought in certainly wasn't enough to sustain the lifestyle that Katherine was used to, she and Jack wouldn't be in as dire of straits as Pulitzer had predicted, even if the latter were to cut off all financial support.

At least, that was what she hoped. She'd never really had to think about shopping on a budget or cutting back on the niceties of life to make ends meet before. She didn't know what it felt like to go hungry or to worry about not being able to afford the next month's rent. She wasn't even sure if she completely understood what it meant to live a life more impoverished than the one she'd enjoyed and had taken for granted all this time.

But Jack knew...and if, months ago, Katherine had loved him enough to follow him to Santa Fe, she certainly loved him enough now to follow him into a harder and colder reality if that's what it took for them to be together. As long as she had him by her side, she could find a way to be content.

Having resolved this in her mind, she turned her attention to her father, who was already engrossed in his work, his eyes trained on his ledger as he meticulously scanned through the lines of numbers, always searching, always striving for a way to eke out just a bit more profit or to cut some seemingly unnecessary cost. It was what he lived for, what consumed him, and what he seemed to love above all else…

And Katherine couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow as she watched him, this driven, unyielding man bent over his work, all alone in his dark and lonely office fifteen stories high atop The World, withdrawn from the humanity that hummed and bustled down below as he worked the hours, days, and years of his life away in the relentless pursuit of profit. He was not an evil man, this she was sure of (despite his attempts at manipulation and his conniving business practices), for over the years, ever since she could remember, he'd loved her in his own way, with lunches at Delmonico's and new books for her personal library and talks about art and religion and politics when she'd expressed an interest in those rather adult-like subjects. There had been lavish dinners on her birthday and the occasional box of bonbons just because, and even a brand-new typewriter when she'd first mentioned her dream of becoming a reporter, and though he had never fully entered into her world, there had always been a part of him that had cared enough to show at least a cursory interest in what was important to her at the time…

But, she was coming to realize, there was a limit to that kind of love. And she had finally reached the unspoken bottom line.

"I feel sorry for you, Father," she said aloud.

He looked up from his ledger, peering at her over his spectacles. "And why would you feel sorry for me, Katherine?"

The haughtiness in his voice gave her the strength that she needed to continue. "You think you have everything, yet you're lacking so much."

Pulitzer barked a laugh. "Is that what you think?" He sat back in his chair, sweeping his arm towards one of the many windows that overlooked the city. "Need I remind you that I oversee one of the most successful newspaper empires in the country? That doesn't mean I merely make a pretty penny from the profits. It means that I control the words shaping public perception, and thereby have the power to determine mens' civic fate and the tenor of our society's history. I practically own the city of New York, Katherine, the very city that once ignored and despised me, but now sits, literally and figuratively, under my feet." He gave her a condescending look as he added, "If you consider that a reason to pity me, then you're a poor excuse for a Pulizter. You really ought to think more about what I said, and consider the empire that you're poised to inherit but will be throwing away if you choose to persist in your foolishness."

Katherine was silent, grappling with her emotions even as she knew that it was pointless to give further voice to them.

No matter what she did or said, her father would never understand.

There was no point in tarrying any further.

Slowly, she turned away and walked towards the door, her heart heavy even as her resolve solidified with every step. If anything, Pulitzer's closing remarks had only made her more sure that she was doing the right thing.

But it was still a loss. For both of them.

Pausing on the threshold of the office, Katherine turned around one last time to see her father bent over his desk, once again working away, likely certain that he'd won the battle and that, in time, she would come dutifully crawling back to him, unable to resist his authority like the rest of the city over whom he held sway.

A band of scrappy nobodies had defied him, though, against all odds.

And if they could do it...so could she.

"Apa*, you may own the world," Katherine said softly, "but you don't own me."

And with that, she quietly shut the door behind her.

Remember all you're capable of, no matter what anyone says to the contrary.

Turning towards the stairs, she hurried down them, clenching her hands together to keep them from shaking. She'd defied her father before - many times, in fact, for she'd always been headstrong, even from a young age - but this was the first time that she'd done so knowing that the result of such defiance would likely have far-reaching consequences on her future and that the wedge she'd driven between them was one that would only grow deeper with time.

She'd made her choice, though, and she wasn't going to second-guess herself now. Her father could try to control and manipulate her as much as he wanted, but she wouldn't let him tell her what she could be or whom she could love. And if he was willing to sever their personal connection for the sake of his pride, that was a choice that he, too, would have to learn to live with.

Reaching the bottom floor of The World in what seemed like a heartbeat, Katherine hurried through the lobby, eager to be out of the lofty and stiflingly-grand building and into the open air. She burst through the doors, hurrying down the stairs and pulling her coat closer around herself as the chilly wind gusted through her hair, but before she had reached the street, she sensed someone nearby, and looked up to see Jack standing at the foot of the steps.

"Hey, Plums," he said, giving her a slightly-concerned look. "You all right?"

Katherine ran into his arms, thankful for the comfort of his unexpected presence. "How did you know I was here?" she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Specs saw you headin' to The World on his way back to the lodgin' house," Jack explained. "He mentioned it to me in passin', and I kinda had a hunch I oughta swing by to see if anything was wrong."

Soberly, Katherine filled him in on what had just transpired, beginning with Lena's dismissal and ending with Pulitzer's ultimatum. She didn't soften the words or omit any of the facts; she simply spoke the truth, and laid out the reality that awaited them in light of this new development.

As she finished speaking, Jack's countenance darkened. "That's it," he muttered. "I'm turnin' in my resignation to Hammond first thing next week. I ain't gonna keep workin' for a heartless jerk, even if he is your father, and even if it means losin' that extra money. Never liked doin' my art for profit anyway."

Katherine nodded in agreement; it wasn't likely that Jack would be allowed to retain the job, anyway, so he might as well leave on his own terms.

"Let's go for a walk," she suggested, taking Jack's hand and pulling him down the street. "I don't want to think about this anymore - even if our jobs and financial prospects are gone tomorrow, what matters is that what we have together isn't going to change."

"You bet it ain't," Jack agreed, drawing even with her and leaning in close to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Heiress or not, I ain't lettin' you get away that easy. 'Long as we believe in each other and in what we's able to do, we's gonna be all right, Pulitzer or no Pulitzer."

They continued walking down Park Row hand in hand, taking in the sight of the snow-covered sidewalks and streets and the street lamps shining in the twilight. Christmas had already come and gone, but the decorations put up by the city would remain for another day until the New Year had been ushered in, and despite the turmoil of the last several hours, Katherine felt a sense of calm satisfaction.

1899 hadn't been anything like what she'd expected, and the year to come was full of unknowns, but she had her determination and her wit and Jack by her side, and she knew, somehow, that things would work out as they faced the future together.

It was officially the turn of the century...and the turning of a new page.


A/N: One of the challenges that I enjoy (and am passionate about) as a fanfiction writer is trying to add layers to the canon characters, especially those who aren't as developed in the source material. We don't get to see much of Pulitzer's side of the story in Newsies proper, but there are tiny hints hidden in the script that seem to indicate that he's more than just a powerful, greedy old man, and I tried to flesh those out with this subplot while adding my own headcanon and some of the historical Pulitzer's backstory. The source material predisposes us (for good reason) to side with Katherine, but I hope that I was successful in painting a Pulitzer who, while still ruthless and true to his "Bottom Line" mentality, nevertheless shows sympathetic moments where we can (maybe) understand where he's coming from.

Anyway, I'd really really really appreciate hearing any thoughts or feedback that you have on this chapter. Your interest, engagement, questions, thoughts, all of it, truly encourage and motivate me, and any comment, long or short, is highly appreciated (also, there are a bunch of song lyric allusions in this installment, some rather subtle and some not so subtle, so virtual (non-concrete) donuts to anyone who spotted them! :P).

*Apa is the Hungarian word for Father. My headcanon is that Pulitzer, who was born in Hungary and knew the language, taught Katherine a few words here and there growing up, and that she referred to him as "Apa" until she got older and began addressing him by his English title.