See, there's a reason why the last chapter was where things started to go wrong.

This is where they really go wrong.

And yet there still is that darn alley scene ... you know, the one where to this day there is no heterosexual explanation for it...

Also, I gotta admit, every time I watch 92sies/Livesies, I kinda disassociate in the scene when Jack and Pulitzer talk, so my memory on the dialogue is kinda foggy haha.

Anyway, in whatever way you can...

Enjoy! :)

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They go under the cover of darkness. As stealthily as possible, David leads Kid Blink, Mush, Race, Boots, and Les to across the street from the Refuge.

David points at the forsaken building. "That's where we saw Crutchy." Not that he will ever forget that night.

Suddenly, the doors of the building open. They scatter, making sure that they aren't seen.

As they peer out, they see Jack being led into a carriage.

"There he is!" Les exclaims in a loud whisper. "There's Jack!"

David shushes him frantically.

"Where are they taking 'im, Dave?" Mush asks.

David stands up, an idea brewing in his mind. "I don't know." He finishes thinking about it. "But I'm about to find out." He nudges Les to Race. "Racetrack, watch him." The group watches as he leaves, all concerned about him, and about Jack. Race pulls Les closer to him, biting his lip, rooted to his place on the ground.

They can only hope that this goes well.

David doesn't think. There's only one thought in his mind: do. And that's what happens.

He gets on the back of the carriage.

He has no idea what he's doing.

Funny, isn't it? David thinks to himself as the carriage starts moving. In order to save Jack, you have to do what you think he would have done?

Would Jack have done this if the roles were reversed? If David was being led to who knows where, would Jack jump on the back of a carriage to save him? He only hopes so. And he also hopes that he never has to find out.

Jack shuts down mentally as he's being led into Pulitzer's office. He can't handle everything that's happening around him. And so he doesn't.

Seitz closes the door behind Jack, leaving Jack utterly and entirely alone in here.

He is absolutely terrified.

In order to try to ground himself, he looks around the room, identifying all objects/furniture that he can.

His observations fall flat.

It's just a rich person's home.

This isn't helping at all.

And then there he is. Pulitzer. Right across the room from Jack. 

Jack is in the same room as the most powerful man in all of New York City. In Jack's world, the newsies' world, that makes him the most powerful man alive.

Pulitzer gestures to a chair. "Sit."

Warily, Jack sits down, hunching over. His posture (which is really bad for his bound chest, but he doesn't care right now) makes him look smaller. Pulitzer sits down across from him.

Jack stares at Pulitzer, ready for Pulitzer to make the first move.

"Do you know what I was doing when I was your age?" Pulitzer asks Jack finally. "I was in a war. The Civil War."

"I heard about that," Jack says in a soft tone. "So, did you win?"

Pulitzer doesn't answer Jack's question. "Many people think that war is about right and wrong. What it actually is, however, is about power."

"Yeah, I heard that too," Jack says in the same tone. "You know, I don't just sell your papers, Joe. Sometimes I read 'em."

Pulitzer doesn't react to Jack calling him Joe. He stands up, hands gesturing as he talks. "The power of the press is the most powerful one of all. I tell the city how to act, how to think, how to vote. I shape its future." He makes a gesture to go along with it, which really could be left up for any interpretation. 

Jack stays quiet, just watching Pulitzer.

Pulitzer sits down again. "Now, I have the power to set you free. I also have the power to send you right back to the Refuge-"

"And I have the power to break out again."

"I could send you back to the Refuge, or I could see to it that you have more money than you could make in ... say, three lifetimes. Only if you agree to work for me again."

Jack leans back. "Are you bribin' me, Joe?"

Pulitzer doesn't answer. It's a rhetorical question; they both know the answer to it.

Jack shakes his head. "I'm sorry, but I don't take bribes." He stands up. "I should get going-"

Pulitzer stands up too. "Oh no, you listen to me." Jack freezes. "You shut up and listen to me for once!" Jack didn't say anything. Jack just stands there, staring at the ground, wanting so desperately to retreat into his mind and escape this nightmare.

But Pulitzer continues. "I offer you freedom and money just to work for me again. To your friends, I won't be so kind!"

Jack stops.

"Now, to my understanding, you have a selling partner. What's his name, David?"

Jack's blood turns cold. He looks at Pulitzer, heart pounding.

Pulitzer can see he struck a nerve. One that he can use to his advantage. "He has a family, yes? What would happen to them if he went to jail? What would happen to him if he went to jail? And it would be you who put him there."

And in this moment, Jack sees that he has lost. He clenches his fists. He hates making decisions. He hates this situation. He hates it all. He wants to get away-

"All I ask is that you call off the strike and come work for me again," Pulitzer urges him. "Keep your friends out of the Refuge. You work for me a few years, then I can put you on a train to wherever you want to go."

Santa Fe.

Santa Fe no longer has to remain some distant unrealistic destination. It can happen.

But ... Santa Fe isn't his most pressing thought right now in this moment.

It's David.

What would the Refuge do to him? And it would be you who put him there!

The sentence echoes again and again in his mind, unrelenting. Each time it plays again, it causes Jack more pain.

Jack is trapped. Does he accept the deal and betray his friends? Or does he stick with the strike and condemn his friends?

He's conflicted. Truly conflicted.

But he cannot cry. Nor sink to the floor. Nor just stand there forever without making a decision.

But whether it comes to his friends' feelings or his friends' safety...

He knows what he has to choose.

David doesn't know how long he's been waiting. His ultimate genius plan was to take out a screw from the wheel of the carriage, to prevent it from being able to move. That should give him and Jack enough time to escape once Jack comes out of the building. He's confident that it'll work. It has to. He doesn't know what he'll do if it doesn't work.

Finally, finally, two men lead Jack out.

David pops out from behind the end of the stairway. "Jack! Come on!"

Jack sees David, and doesn't even think twice. 

He gets away from the men, slides down the railing, and takes off running with David. Sure enough, the carriage doesn't move, which slows down the men trying to catch them.

"This way!" David shouts. "Come on! We gotta go!"

When they reach an alley, Jack suddenly stops running. He knows he can't do this. He can't keep running. There are consequences to these actions. Consequences that he doesn't want. So he has to do this instead.

David turns around, confused. "Come on, we gotta go!"

"What happens when they put you in jail, Davey?"

David stops. "What?"

"What happens to your family when they put you in jail?" Jack presses. "You don't know nothin' about jail." He moves closer to David. "If we keep goin', they're gonna put you jail."

"I don't care." David looks at Jack defiantly. 

"You can't do this, David!" Jack puts his hand on David's chest. Both are super aware of how close they are to each other. Jack removes his hand and steps away. "You need to go. Now."

"I don't understand," David says, incredibly confused, hurt shining in his eyes. He's never seen Jack act like this before, and it's stressing him out.

This is tearing Jack apart inside, but he can't do anything about it. "I don't understand neither. Now go!"

David walks past him and looks like he's about to stop running, but he stops. He turns around. Jack may be stubborn, but so is David. "No!"

"GO!" Jack shouts.

David can tell that this is it. This is the final moment. Their argument is over. Jack is mad, and this is how it ends. And so, very reluctantly, David runs off.

Jack lets the men catch him and bring him back to the Refuge, as he plays back in his mind what just happened, what he has done.

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Jack had hoped never to come back to this forsaken place. And yet here he is.

He gets his own room--if he can call it a room. They must not want him with the other kids.

He sinks down to the ground, moonlight seeping in from the window.

"Santa Fe," he murmurs softly to himself. "My old friend. I can't spend my whole life hiding. You're the only light that's guiding me today."

Santa Fe is the only constant Jack has in his life. Everything else has changed. But the Santa Fe in his mind, the one he can only hope is real, is the only thing that never changes. If there was ever a time he needs Santa Fe, it's now.

Santa Fe won't ever judge him for decisions. Everyone else will, but not Santa Fe.

In Santa Fe, he can escape it all.

Suddenly, Crutchy opens the peephole into Jack's room. "Psst! Hiya, Jack!"

Jack smiles. "Hey, Crutchy."

"How are ya?"

"Swell. You?"

"Fine I guess." Crutchy brightens up. "Oh! You wanna know what Snyder had for his dinner tonight? You know, the stuff that we'll never get? He got olives, sauerkraut, even bacon." He grins. "And guess what I did to his sauerkraut!"

"So what does that get ya?" 

"Eh, another three months." Crutchy dampens for a moment. Then switches back quickly to a positive attitude. "But you can't let 'em beat us, right Jack? That's what you always say." Crutchy does a little head roll for extra emphasis.

"I don't know if we can do that anymore," Jack says softly. "I think they won."

Crutchy's spirits visibly sink. "But things'll get better, right?"

Jack doesn't have an answer. Just stares up at Crutchy, full of melancholy.

"I know they will," Crutchy says decidedly. "Goodnight, Jack." They close the peephole.

Jack sighs, alone with his thoughts again.

The bandages on his chest are tight, but he doesn't want to do anything about it.

It's been awhile since he's been like this, in this state of not wanting to do anything, just always feeling sad, feeling numb, hopeless, helpless. For awhile, it went away. He had found happiness, and finally he had some days where he didn't feel sad once. But this state, this despair, this mental depression ... it's coming back, harder than before.

And still, the only constant in his life when everything is changing is Santa Fe.

He stands by the window. "Will you keep a candle burnin'? Will you help me find a way? You're my chance to break free, and who knows when my next one will be? Santa Fe..." he trails off. "Wait for me."

But his quiet plea goes unheard; nothing but soft-spoken words carried along by the wind, into the starry sky, into a great big nothingness.

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This chapter always gets sadder each time I write it.

I love David saying Racetrack, watch him, and the tension in the alley scene, but other than that ... there really isn't much good here.

Jack is just so timid in 92sies when he goes talk to Pulitzer, yet as he speaks softly his words speak loudly. He's just a scared little kid, but he still manages to hold his own against a titan.

And it's not like he's going up against some guy whose brain is wired like everyone else's. It's part of Pulitzer's character that he's crazy. Pulitzer in the script was written specifically for Robert Duvall, who was intrigued enough by the character that he agreed to play him. You're supposed to see that he doesn't think like everyone else. And it's not like the real Pulitzer didn't have a troubled mind either. The thing is ... Livesies Pulitzer is just too neurotypical for me. That guy knows what he's doing all the time, is fully aware of what every decision means, and there is no sign of craziness. And it just doesn't feel real to me that Pulitzer is like that.

But still. Christian Bale's acting. Like wow does he know how to act. I'm not talking about the singing and dancing he didn't sign up to do. I mean his genuine, breathtaking acting. He's seventeen playing a seventeen year old. And he handled it all so, so well. There's just something so authentic about it. 

And Jack is trapped, you know? A lot of people hate Jack for becoming a scab. But he had no choice. It was either that, or put his friends at risk, and that was just something he couldn't live with himself if it happened. 

Depression was described as mental depression in the 19th century, so me writing that Jack has depression and there's a word for it isn't historically inaccurate.

I don't even want to think about the next chapter yet.

But it will get better. It has to. But not at first.

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE!!!!! :)
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Please, no homophobia or transphobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section.

Best,

~Your Beloved Author (who is listening to so much music that really fits the mood, as rain also runs over their roof overhead)