Chapter 5

Jack practically threw himself up the ladder, if that was even possible, and cried out to the sky out of frustration. Hot tears pricked he corners of his eyes and he took a deep breath.

This was all his fault. How could he have let this happen?! Now a whole bunch of the boys are injured, and Crutchie was dragged off to the refuge!

What kind of leader was he?!

"Guys are fightin', bleedin', fallin' thanks to good ole Captain Jack."

Jack slumped over. He just wanted out of this god damn town. He needed space. Fresh air. God he never would have done this if he had known. "Let me go, far away, somewhere they won't never find me, and tomorrow," Jack paused. What the hell was he gonna do tomorrow? And Davey. He saw that bat crack across his back, saw the pain in his eyes. "Well tomorrow won't remind me of today."

Santa Fe. He would go there. He knew Miss Medda would pay him for a backdrop, so he would go do that. And be out of the city before Pulitzer even knew he existed. "Where's it say I gotta live and die here?"

"Where does it say a guy can't catch a break...?" Because god knows he needed one. And so did all of the other boys, and every other child out there working instead of living and playing games. It was so messed up, the world they lived in.

"Why should you only take what you're given? Why should you spend your whole life living trapped where there ain't no future?!"

There was nothing for Jack here. Nothing. Except Davey, but all he had brought Davey was pain. He saw that today. Jack didn't have a future here. He had papers and boys, and that was it. And he wanted so much more. These boys, they all deserved so much more.

"Even at seventeen..."

This wasn't right. Jack should've been at school, learning how to be successful. All these boys younger than him deserved to be out playing, going to school, making friends!

And Davey. He knew that Davey volunteered for this, but Jack should have protected him. Jack was seeing red now. Seeing Crutchie being beaten, Romeo knocked out, Race bleeding, Specs having to help Tommy-boy out of a chokehold. And Davey. Davey rushing around to help everyone, taking so much damage. That should have been Jack. Why should he have to break his back for Pulitzer? Why should Davey? Why should anyone?

"Breaking your back for someone else's sake. If the life don't seem to suit ya," Jack stood slowly, "How 'bout a change of scene?" Maybe he would take Davey with him, take him where no one cared if Jack wanted to kiss that stupidly perfect boy senseless in the moonlight. Where no one cared if Davey and him were together. Where there were no stupid headlines about trolleys.

"Far from the lousy headlines and the deadlines in between," Jack muttered, his voice dripping with so much emotion. His hands gripped the railings of his penthouse and he tried to clear his mind.

Strike. Crutchie. Race. Tommy-boy. Specs. Albert. Romeo. Davey. Les.

Strike. Crutchie. Race. Davey. Les.

Strike.

Failure.

Davey.

Davey.

Davey.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the railing so tightly that his knuckles turned white. This... this was awful. And all his fault. And he needed to leave. He needed to go somewhere they wouldn't ever find him.

"...Santa Fe... my old friend..."

His shoulders slumped as he rested his head and arms on the railing. He couldn't do this. He couldn't watch the newsies get hurt anymore. The pain in his chest, the emptiness he felt, was nearly unbearable. He couldn't spend his life hoping and wishing.

"I can't spend my whole life dreaming."

He wanted out. He needed out. He needed hope, and the dirty streets of Manhattan didn't give so much as a sliver. If he left, he could start over. Jack slammed his hands against the railing, lifting his head.

"I need space and fresh air! Let them laugh in my place I don't care!"

Slumping to the ground, head in hands, he let the image of a happy, healthy Davey and Les run through his broken and bruised mind. They would be happy again. Davey would be happy again, not bleeding and hurt. He would be happy, even if Jack wasn't there with him.

"Save my place. I'll be there."

And as Jack lay down, praying, for the first time in his life, for help with his plan to get out, a small whisper came from his mouth.

"I ain't got nothing, if I ain't got Santa Fe."

Across town Davey sat on his fire escape wondering what the hell had happened. They had it in the palms of their hands. His back ached, face hurt, and as a tear slipped from his closed eyes, he pictured Jack saving his little brother. Then he saw the punch that knocked the mighty Jack Kelly on his back. Jack was gone now, disappeared according to Specs. He'd run off after they had beaten up Crutchie.

Damn them. Beating up a helpless kid. David held his face in his bloodied and bruised hands. What if he never saw Jack again? Never saw that cocky, flirty smile, or twinkling eyes?

"Damn you Jackie. What have you done to me?"

Davey felt the tears in his eyes grow, and he couldn't stop them. He was crying, and he couldn't stop himself. Because of everything that had happened. How did it go so horribly wrong...? And...and how could Jack just...flee?

Davey has wanted to do the same. Leave the town. Leave New York. But...he could never actually do it. And now the thought that he would never see Jack again...

Jack Kelly, who Davey has fallen so hopelessly in love with in such a short amount of time...

The window opened and Sarah stepped out. "David Jacobs, wanna explain why Les has a broken arm?"

"No," Davey said simply.

"You don't have to, I already know. Just wanted to see if you would. Les can't really shut up." Sarah said through chuckles. "Now, I know you got a base ball bat to the back, so, shirt up."

Davey obliged, revealing the blood and bruises left by Oscar and Morris and a cop. A small gasp came from his sister. Davey just closed his eyes again as Sarah began cleaning his wounds. He pictured Jack, and last night. His hands, his arms, his lips.

"Ow!"

It hurt. Everything hurt. His entire body ached not only from the failed strike and the beatings he had received. But it ached for Jack, to be near him again. Davey's heart ached at the thoughts running through his mind and he thought maybe some sleep would clear his mind.

But he couldn't sleep right now. Not while he was being taken care of.

God... it all hurt so much. Everything. His head was pounding and he pulled off his hat to run his hands through his hair.

Why...

Why did it have to go so wrong...?

Sarah pulled his shirt down, and put her arms around Davey. He didn't even realize how much he had been crying until he felt Sarah wipe his cheeks. "Hey, you're ok. No one died. You scared them good Brother. Why else would they attack you with everything they got?"

Sarah had a point, but Davey couldn't take his mind off his Jack. Maybe not his Jack now though. He let his sister comfort him, lull him to a calm middle ground with an old lullaby. He didn't understand why the world did this. Why it was so cruel to two people in love, to a group of boys who wanted to make a difference.

"Sarah? What if I told you I did something mom and dad wouldn't like?"

Davey spoke before he could stop himself, but he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. And that was...okay with him. Because if he stopped, he thought. And if he thought, it wouldn't be okay.

"Other than breaking Les's arm?" she replied and gently rubbed Davey's arms. "What do you mean, that they wouldn't like?"

Davey tried to think of how to explain this. Maybe he should just.. be blunt. But...

"Well I kinda..." Davey's mouth went dry. "I um, well, uh."

Sarah smiled warmly. "I know Davey. I've known for a while. Mom and Dad and society is purposely oblivious, but I don't care. But don't tell Les. Or anyone else."

Davey was in shock. How? But quickly he shook it off. He had finally told someone and it was off his chest. Sarah pulled him inside.

"Bed time Davey. You have a strike to lead in the morning. And a boy to catch." She winked and a slip of paper fell from her skirt pocket as she crawled inside.

Davey watched Sarah go with wide eyes and red cheeks. How did she know...?? What-? When-?? How?? Davey didn't know himself until he met Jack and he was pretty sure no one had seen him with Jack! That was kinda the point of them moving away from Race and Crutchie last night!

He slowly stood up, wincing at the pain he felt. But that pain slowly subsided when he spotted the piece of paper from his sister's skirt.

He knew better. He didn't want to pry. But Davey was curious.

So he picked it up.

It was a picture, from the Sun. An article they ran on a new hire, their first woman reporter. If Davey hadn't already felt like a million bricks had crushed him, he probably would have felt like the realization would have hit him like a ton of rocks. Sarah was the same way. The picture was old and worn, but in good condition. He couldn't help but wonder if Les was going to turn out the same. Golly he hoped not. He wanted a niece and a nephew.

"David, inside. Les had a nightmare," Sarah called to him.

Davey looked up at that. He folded and pocketed the piece of paper and didn't hesitate to dart inside and move for his little brother. He loved Les so much, more than anything, and he always hated when his brother was suffering. Hurting in any way.

He didn't want to know what it was about when he had a few ideas... he tried to push it aside for the sake of Les.

"Les?"

"Is Jack gonna be ok?" Les whispered into Davey's chest. "Cause I saw what happened to you. What if he's not ok?" Les started crying, sobbing. "What did they do to you Davey? Why you not changing? Do you hurt too much?"

Les was right on all accounts. And was thinking the same things as Davey. But Davey had to be strong.

"Shh. Jack will be ok. I'm fine, just not tired yet. Want me to sing ya to sleep?"

Les nodded, tears staining Davey's vest.

"Hush little baby don't say a word." Davey started.

Davey held his brother close, in the most protective manner he could give. He ran his fingers through his brother's messy, curly hair, and kept his voice soft and sweet as he sung.

Just for a moment, he closed his eyes and let calm overtake him. Instead of worrying about everyone else, he was focused on the good. That good was Les. He was here, and he was safe. He was alive. Maybe not okay, but alive.

Davey still had one thing, and he wouldn't let them take that.

Soon enough, Les was peacefully asleep once again.

He lay down next to his brother, not feeling well enough to walk to his own room, and needing comfort himself. As he reflected on everything that had happened in the past few days, he stumbled upon a thought. What if the reason the police were called was that Pulitzer knew he was out numbered? With that in head, he drifted off, holding Les close, and dreaming of a better tomorrow.