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orangesand-lemons-234 · 3 months

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Buttons was 16 years old. He'd been a Newsie for ten of those years, therefore being around to see some of the younger kids grow with him.

When he saw Elmer, he still saw the three year old Spot brought to visit Manhattan four years ago.

When he saw Splasher, he saw the five year old he and Tommy Boy found sat alone on a bench outside the church three years ago.

When he saw Mike and Ike, he saw the babies left in a basket outside the Lodge House five years ago.

So, seeing each of them beaten up and bloody hurt all the more.

The Lodge was absolute chaos after the fight. Not the usual Lodge chaos, however, it was a scary and fearful chaos. The one that made your heart pound and brain blurry.

Kids were wailing and crying, teenagers were yelling and shouting. There wasn't a quiet place in the house.

Everybody realised quite quickly that nobody had walked out without a few battle scars to show afterwards, and the little kids were no exception.

Elmer had a shard of glass thrown at his forehead, and it was bleeding badly. Despite the bandages now wrapped around the injury, the injury had bled through, creating crimson dots splattered around it.

Splasher had broken his ankle after being shoved to the ground by one of the bulls. Buttons had a pole tied to his leg to keep it as straight as possible and had it elevated on the other bed. He was still weeping silently with the pain shooting up his leg every few minutes.

Mike and Ike were sat on his lap and were crying harder than any of the Newsies had ever seen, despite knowing them their whole lives.

Mike had been struck in the back with a baton multiple times, his back now scattered with bruises and blood. He didn't understand what was happening or why he was in so much pain, he just wanted it to stop.

Ike was hit in the face with one of the Delancey's brass knuckles, leaving him with a black eye and scarred nose. He was practically inconsolable, not allowing anybody to touch him for a very long time after the fight, only relaxing enough for Button's to check him out when Mike was brought in with Albert and Finch.

Buttons, with no help from the others got to work helping the kids in any way he could. The kids needed a shoulder to cry on and a helping hand to wrap up their injuries while some of the older newsies tried to sort out where Jack was and if they could try to save Crutchie.

They didn't understand what any of this meant. They just wanted somebody to hold them and tell them they were okay. Someone to sing one of Meddas songs while they wrapped up their scars and cuts.

Buttons was okay. He was fine and could help with the little ones with their injuries. Yeah, sure, he was struggling to breathe properly, and his knees were throbbing with pain, but the little kids needed help more than he did. He could handle it.

Buttons was 16, but sometimes he wishes he was still 6, when there was always an older kid around to help him out.

#oooo older sibling trauma fic #oooo #buttons angst #it was gonna happen eventually #i was gonna write an angsty oneshot for him eventually #but uhhh #yay #older sibling trauma #most of us have been there #yknow?#newsies #uksies #newsies headcanons #newsies fanfic #newsies fanfiction #buttons newsies #elmer newsies #splasher newsies #mike and ike newsies

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ill-say-anything-i-hafta · 9 months

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Newsies AU where it's 1899 but none of the boys are newsies; they have other period-appropriate jobs instead.

Jack is a stableboy. He mucks out the stalls and sings to the horses while he brushes them.

Crutchie is a bootblack, so he doesn't have to walk too much.

Albert is a telegraph messenger. His crew is feuding with the Western Union messengers, who knock them off their bikes when they see them.

Buttons and Finch both work in a textile factory. Finch is always getting in trouble for going too slow. Last year, Buttons caught two fingers on his right hand in a machine and lost them, but he's healed up now and is faster than Finch again.

Elmer helps his ma and siblings roll cigarettes in their tenement.

Mush repairs shoes.

Romeo works at a laundry next to a brothel. All the ladies are really nice to him when they see him.

Specs is the lookout for a gang of older boys who are housebreakers. They give him a cut of their take. He has been in the Refuge six times.

Jojo is apprenticed to an illiterate jeweler, and does the books. His boss beats him if he thinks he's made a mistake.

Racetrack is an oyster shucker. He has never seen a pearl.

Albert seems to know everyone in Lower Manhattan, but most of the other boys are lonely. Buttons and Finch aren't allowed to talk at work. Kids steer clear of Specs. Crutchie once saved Romeo from getting soaked by some toughs and now he sometimes says hi when he sees Crutchie set up on the corner, but none of the rest of them are even friends.

#history is depressing #idk whats wrong with me #newsies #livesies #headcannons #newsies au #newsies fanfiction #child labor au #bonnie's newsies aus

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str4wb3rry-newsboy · 1 month

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i need more newsies content to consume im going insane

#aka multiple chapter fics #newsies #newsies the musical #newsies broadway #newsies fics #newsies fanfiction #steddie fan fiction #newsies fan fiction #fan fiction #newsies 1992 #1992sies #92sies #livesies #ao3

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auspicious-manner · 7 months

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maybe a little morris delancey x ballet dancer!reader and him getting all soft when he sees her perform up on the stage?

oh i am ALL for this. as an ex-dancer, this was a dream to write! i tried not to include too much terminology so it wouldn’t get confusing.

so sorry this took so long, life has gotten very busy being back at university. but i’m trying to keep up as much as possible!

fem reader x morris delancey

warnings: none

mike taglist: @diorgirl444

Tough

•

“whaddya say to spendin’ the night with me, pretty girl?” your boyfriend, morris delancey, asked as you walked down the streets of new york city, hand in hand. the sun was just beginning to disappear behind the horizon, lighting the city up in an ethereal orange glow.

you leaned your body closer into his arm. “as lovely as that sounds, i got a show tonight.”

in order to make some extra cash to survive in new york, you got a job at medda’s theater performing three shows a week. when asked what special talents you had in your interview, you told medda that you had trained in ballet since you were young, but given that you barely had enough money to keep food on the table, you couldn’t afford pointe shoes despite being trained on them.

on the spot, she offered you a deal; typical performers performed one to two shows a week, but if you could handle it, she’d give you three shows a week and take the cost of the shoes out of your pay every other week. to you, that deal sounded like a dream come true.

morris never came to your shows, he always said he had “business to attend to” on the nights you performed. you weren’t really sure what that meant, but you could assume it had something to do with harassing those newsie boys that you felt a bit of sympathy for. he always claimed he was too tough to be seen watching a show in a theater.

morris threw his head back dramatically as you both walked. “you’re always at that theater. we never get to spend time together anymore.”

you smiled playfully. “you know, you could come to my show tonight since you keep avoidin’ it like the plague. what’s it gonna hurt you, morris?”

he thought about it briefly. “i could take a night off, come watch you do your little thing. how about that?” morris asked, half joking.

you immediately burst into a grin, ignoring the fact that he sounded a bit sarcastic with that proposal. all you’ve ever wanted was for your boyfriend to come watch you do what you do best. “that sounds perfect.”

unbeknownst to you, morris didn’t exactly want to see your show. sure, he loved you and would do pretty much anything you asked him to, but his idea of a fun night wasn’t going to a theater to watch a boring show with a bunch of old people. but seeing how you beamed at the idea of him finally coming to watch you made him feel like the only thing worse than going would be not going.

you stopped walking so you could stand in front of him, his tall stature standing over you. “the show starts at 7. you promise me you’ll be there?”

morris hesitated before nodding. “wouldn’t miss it for nothin’.”

you stood on your toes to reach up and give him a soft kiss. “i have to start getting ready. i’ll see you there?”

he put his hands on your hips, pulling you close. “of course.”

you whispered an okay before removing yourself from his grip, as much as you didn’t want to leave. you weren’t far from the theater, and when you got there, you found that you had approximately two hours to get fully ready and warmed up.

your dressing room was small and compact and below ground level. it was the only room medda could provide you, but you were thankful to even have a dressing room. there was one small window near the ceiling that provided a small look into the streets of new york city.

as you applied your stage makeup, you heard a light tapping coming from the window. you frowned, as hearing rhythmic noises directly against the glass was uncommon. you pulled your chair over to the wall, standing on it and further standing on your tip toes to pull the small curtains away to find a smiling morris on the other side of the glass. he was laying on his stomach so his head was level with the window.

you tried to contain laughter as you unlocked the window. “are you crazy?”

the window was far too small for him to climb in, so he just kept his head close to the opening as you looked up at him on top of the chair.

“i might be, but i’m just glad i finally found the right room. knocked on a few other windows, them ladies did not like me doin’ that.”

you giggled. “what are you even doing here? i told you to come for the show, not to my dressing room window.”

he shrugged before saying, “i wanted to wish you good luck, that’s all.”

you looked at him knowingly. you knew your boyfriend, and he didn’t go through all of this just to tell you about something you didn’t even really need.

“nice try. what’s the real reason you’re here?”

morris looked up, seemingly embarrassed. “where do i sit when the show starts?”

you paused. “i know sittin’ may be difficult for you, morris, but luckily for you there’s this new invention i think you’ll really love to try. it’s called a chair,” you said sarcastically.

he rolled his eyes playfully. “sweetheart, you know that’s not what i mean,” he said, his thick new york accent prominent. “where am i suppose’ to go? front row, back row, balcony? i don’t know how any of this stuff works.”

“as a matter of fact, i actually let miss medda know you were comin’ for the show, so she has a box reserved just for you.”

morris was reluctant to come at first, but now he was simply curious to discover what occupies so much of his girlfriend’s time. he wanted to make sure he could get the best view possible.

he put his head through the window, and you stood on your tip toes to meet him with a kiss. “i’ll see you after the show?”

he nodded. “of course. break a leg,” morris started, going to stand up but turning around to the window again. “but not actually. don’t actually break a leg, please.”

you laughed, holding his hand briefly through the window as he began to leave “i won’t!”

after he left, you finished getting your makeup on and got into your costume. every week, medda throws together a new theme for your performances, and this week she went with a forest theme. you were wearing all forest green costume that made you look like a fairy. your makeup fit the occasion too, and jack kelly’s painted props and artwork set the backdrop for your show.

about ten minutes before showtime, you stood backstage once the first act finished and your props were being moved behind the curtain that separated the stage from the audience.

your performances never lasted long; they were apart of some other, bigger show within the theater. but you drew in lots of crowds as you were becoming a household name. critics raved about your performances, and people came to medda’s theater specifically for you.

normally, you were a pro at keeping your nerves in line. the build up to the shows didn’t make you nervous anymore after weeks of doing it. but tonight, knowing morris was somewhere out there watching your every move made you immensely nervous. you weren’t just performing for a crowd tonight, that you could handle. you were performing for someone. your someone.

“miss Y/N, you’re shaking,” medda said behind you as she put her hands on your shoulders. you turned around; you were too in your mind to notice the shaking.

“sorry medda, just nervous, that’s all.”

you turned around to meet her, seeing a confused and unbelieving expression on her face. “you? nervous? i don’t believe it.”

you shrugged in response. she tilted her head, still questioning you, then you could tell her expression changed in an instant. “oh, i know why you’re nervous.”

you shook your head. “no you don’t.”

she smiled playfully, hitting your shoulder lightly. “oh yes i do. it’s because that delancey boy is out in the audience getting ready to watch you, isn’t it?”

you couldn’t hide the blush on your cheeks now. you didn’t even have to say anything; medda knew.

her tone changed, and she leaned in close. “don’t get distracted, kid. believe me, i’ve had my fair share of men in my life. but don’t let any man get in the way of you doing what you were born to do. you’re a natural at this, you have nothing to be nervous about.”

you took a deep breath. she was right. you knew exactly what you had to do. you nodded, and she backed away.

she smiled. “let’s get this show moving!”

medda walked out on stage in front of the curtain blocking the set, and that was your cue to get in your place on the props.

morris sat out in the audience, waiting anxiously for your presence on the stage. he had the perfect view from where he was at in the audience, and he held his breath waiting for the show to start. he couldn’t care less about the speech medda was planning before you went on, he just wanted to see you up there.

“i know many of you have come from far and wide to watch this next performer do what she does best. i would rave about her, but i’ll just let her dancing do the talking. up next to take my stage is the one and the only, Y/N L/N.”

medda bowed and walked off stage, and morris watched as the curtains fell away and he saw your figure in the darkness laid on a prop that was painted to look like a tree stump.

the lights came on, and the music began. morris watched as you slowly and gracefully worked around the prop, acting as a mythical creature in a forest. his eyes stayed locked on you, not entirely sure what he was watching, but enthralled nonetheless.

you stood on top of the tree stump, going up en pointe and holding your balance in an arabesque, your arms stretched out to your sides.

you glanced into the audience, still holding your balance, searching for morris. you couldn’t find him, but you ignored your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you brought your other leg down to leap off of the prop, sending your legs soaring out.

morris watched in awe in the audience. he liked to think of himself as tough as nails, and he frowned upon himself showing emotion. but, it was becoming harder and harder to uphold that facade as you continued moving around the stage. he knew you must have been talented to have your own show like this, but never in a million years would he have guessed you would be like this.

the turn sequences were your least favorite part of your shows. you were more of a jumper, you loved the feeling of soaring through the air. along with that, you were flexible, and you had tremendous balance for kicks. you were able to hold your leg impossibly high like it was nothing. but turns were a different story.

you began your prep, and as you did, you spotted morris in the audience, right in front of your vision. your heart began to race even more, and you saw as he smiled, knowing that you had just seen him.

in order to prevent yourself from getting dizzy, you used morris as your spot during your turns. you were turning fast, but as you kept your eyes locked on him, you were able to hold your balance en pointe. it felt like you and him were the only ones in that theater.

morris kept his eyes on you as you spun around and around on the very tops of your toes, a small gasp escaping his mouth. he had never seen anyone do something so quick and difficult while simultaneously having so much grace and fluidity.

after nailing the turns and flowing seamlessly out of them into the next section, you forced your eyes to pull away from his.

not only was morris awestruck by your movement, he was drawn into your storytelling. anyone in that room could see you were on an adventure through the forest, and he felt as if you were taking him along for the ride.

after what felt like hours but somehow not enough time, morris watched as you retreated to the back of the stage, hitting one last pose on the faux tree stump before the lights went dim.

the crowd immediately erupted as the curtains drew to a close, but morris stayed in place. he couldn’t quite process exactly what he just saw, but he was upset that it ended so soon. he could have watched you up there for hours.

when the curtains closed, you got off your prop and headed backstage as medda announced the last act of the night. another successful show, you thought to yourself.

as you sat backstage taking sips of water, you felt a presence behind you. before you could turn to see who it was, a voice spoke in your ear. “well if it ain’t the most talented girl i’ve ever seen.”

you stood up from your chair, seeing a smiling morris who had a singular rose in his hand. before you could jump into his arms and give him a bone crushing hug, he got to you first, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up off the ground.

“you were amazin’ out there, Y/N.”

you pulled away, the biggest grin you've ever had on your face. "you really think so?"

"i know so."

you rolled your eyes. "you're a big softie and you know it."

he smiled sarcastically, setting you back on the ground and lightly pinching your cheek. "any more of that and we're done, silly girl."

you giggled, and only then did you remember the single rose in his hand. morris looked down, almost as if he had forgotten about it too.

"oh, yeah, uh… this is for you. for being so beautiful up there," morris said, immediately getting shy. you bit your lip, holding back a giddy grin.

you stepped closer to him and stood en pointe to give him a kiss on the lips. "it's lovely, morris. where did you get it? you didn’t have that earlier," you asked, taking his hand in your free one.

"i took it from the bouquet that the guy sittin' next to me had."

you blinked at him before sighing. "of course you did."

#mike faist #mike faist imagine #mike faist x reader #mike faist fanfiction #newsies x reader #newsies imagine #morris delancey

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somedayonbroadway · 3 months

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What would the Newises do if they saw the Delanceys showing their brotherly affection with each other?

Interesting question…

I think all the newsies would react in different ways.

Jack would leave it alone. He wouldn’t say anything about the way morris tussled Oscar’s hair, but he would watch the exchange and wonder why they had decided to be as cruel to him as they were.

Race would speak up and ask them if they were going soft which would end in him getting chased all the way to Brooklyn

Crutchie would smile at them and say good morning as he bought his papes and he’d tell them they were lucky to at least have each other

Albert would use the opportunity to slip himself an extra pape or two because Morris would be making sure Oscar was alright after he slipped and fell

David would be too distracted managing his own brother to notice.

Specs would clean his glasses to make sure what he was seeing was actually real.

What do you guys think?

#anonymous #newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #newsies au #newsies fanfiction #Delancey redemption #jack kelly #racetrack higgins #oscar delancey #morris delancey #david jacobs #finch #albert dasilva

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trashpidgeon48 · 8 months

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One of my fanfic philosophies is that I often go to fanfiction for couples with issues or tension and via fic that either worsens or gets cured. If a show has a cute wholesome couple in canon I am less likely to read fic for that couple because I have all that I desire for them in canon. There’s not much spice to work with, you hand me a couple with issues up the wazoo, I’ll read so much fic that makes them better or worse.

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we-are-inevitable · 2 days

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the sun still sets the same - javid WIP

“Hang on– Wait, okay, wait.”

They’re almost to the silver door before David all but drags Jack back a few feet, nearly making him bump into another person on the sidewalk. Jack turns on his heels to face David, who gently grabs his shoulders and positions him in the mouth of the alleyway between the two buildings- a bar and a dance hall.

“Everything okay, Dave?” Jack asks, righting himself from the shoving. He’s used to being manhandled- his frat brothers believe in the love language of side-punches and dragging people arould by the collar of their shirt- but David is pretty gentle about it, and it catches Jack off guard more than it should. “Change your mind?”

“No, I just… I wanna make sure that you didn’t,” David starts, glancing over his shoulder at the sidewalk. “Change your mind, that is. I know this isn’t really your scene, and I don’t want to force you or anything.”

Jack grins, gaze softening. It’s sweet, really, that David cares like this. He’s right either way: Jack has never been to a gay bar before, let alone a drag show, but David’s birthday is next weekend and Jack can’t go to his party because he has to go to a date party with some Chi-O, so this is the next best thing. A night out together, doing something that David loves.

Jack isn’t sure he gets the appeal yet, though; he knows it’s entertaining, but why David loves men in makeup and skirts, he isn’t sure. But, hey, maybe he’ll be enlightened.

“Dude, you really think I would’a walked all the way here to chicken out at the last minute?” Jack asks, raising a brow and crossing his arms. He sees David’s worry melt away- not completely, but enough- and the grin that takes place on his face makes Jack smile wider. “I’m a big boy, Davey. Ain’t gotta worry about me.”

David breathes out and nods. “Okay, good,” He says, and crosses his arms to mimic Jack. Jack watches him for a moment, the way his biceps flex a little as he moves and the way he cocks his hip, and he wonders for a moment how David isn’t cold just wearing a cut-up sleeveless croptop and a mesh undershirt. “In that case, we need to go over the rules.”

Jack tilts his head. “Rules. What rules?”

“First off, no judging,” David says quickly, nonchalantly holding one finger up. “Not that I think you would, but I’ve dealt with enough dickish straight guys at drag shows to not want to put up with it. Second– you’re here to see the show. I guarantee there will be plenty of straight girls looking for a gay best friend in there, and I know you’re not gay,” David pauses for a beat, “and I’m not trying to police who you flirt with or anything, but I just– I don’t, uh, want you missing out.”

“Wasn’t plannin’ on flirting with anyone anyway. We’re celebratin’ your birthday, man, tonight’s all about you,” Jack says as earnestly as he can. This isn’t how he’d want to spend his Saturday night, but it’s for David. He’d do a lot for David. “Besides, you’re actin’ like I’m not gonna be glued to your side all night. I’m out of my element here.”

“Fair point,” David acknowledges with a tilt of his head. The movement makes the glitter on his eyelids shine in the barely-there ray of neon light from the sign above, and Jack has to admit, David looks pretty good in makeup, for a dude. “Third– please try to have fun, okay? I get that drag is, like, weird, but it’s supposed to be. Frankly, I think it’s better when it’s weird. I don’t want you to be miserable just because you’re doing this for me.”

“I guarantee you, this is gonna be fun, okay? I know it’s gonna be a culture shock. It’s fine, Dave, really,” Jack assures him, then nudges his shoulder with his fist. “Let’s get inside before you freeze to death.”

David’s grin morphs into some sort of amused little smirk, a look that Jack hasn’t seen before, and he drops his arms to his sides. “Oh, that’s cute! You think gay people get cold. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

As if he didn’t just drop an enigma of a sentence, David turns on his heels with surprising dexterity for someone in 4 inch platform boots, and walks out of the alleyway, beckoning for Jack to follow.

And Jack does.

He follows underneath the neon pink lighting of the sign reading Mirage, and he follows in line, and he follows when the bouncer- a larger man in a black tee and leather vest- draws an X on the back of his hand, and waves them inside, and he follows as David leads him into an overwhelming mash of glitter and pop music and people who don’t look like Jack at all.

For the first thirty seconds, it’s a difficult adjustment. After that, after Jack sees the smile on David’s face? After he sees David throw his head back and laugh at Jack’s initial shock, after he sees David start to sway to the music and raise his hands as he leads Jack to the stage area? Jack decides being in this new atmosphere is the easiest thing in the world, if it means he gets to see David smile like this.

#frat boy jack au #i am going feral insaneocrazy over here btw. biting biting biting #the basic premise is that jack and davey make unlikely friends after meeting in a college class #and jack is down BAD but doesnt know it #a story of accepting your queerness and finding who your real family is. a story of change and growth and all forms of love. yea #jack kelly #david jacobs #davey jacobs #newsies #newsies live #livesies #uksies #west endsies #javid #javey #jac writes #newsies fanfiction

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sl-newsie · 5 months

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Me: feels guilty for not spending time with family

Also me: shut the door leave me alone and let me write fanfics while watching TV

✍️

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ellsvault · 6 months

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i love the idea of genderbent musicals

like PLEASE 😫 give me a female mendel weisenbachfeld

#falsettos #falsettos musical #marvin trilogy #william finn #falsettoland #mendel weisenbachfeld #musicals #theatre #broadway #off broadway #newsies #hamilton #dear evan hansen #waitress #wicked musical #genderbend #genderswap #fanfiction #ao3

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baura-bear · 5 months

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I turned in my 2,000 word final about the newsboy strike of 1899 what do I do with myself now

#academic weapon #epic autism moment #newsies #i've written newsies fanfiction longer than that

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aj-theteenagecondition · 15 days

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sick fic idea that i would write if i could write

jack (clearly sick, clearly unwell) knocking on the jacobs door to walk david and les to their selling spot, leaning on the door after he knocks, and practically falling into david when he opens the door

les being super helpful "hi jack, oh wow you look terrible!"

david being all... why dont you sit down while i finish my coffee, but actually just getting him to come in and sit down

jack falling asleep at the table

david taking les to meet crutchie or someone to look after him for the day

esther finding jack asleep at the table and making him tea and putting him to bed

david coming back and getting into bed with him

esther coming in later and seeing them asleep together and just being like "ah my boys are gay. good for them! GOOD FOR THEM!"

#yes i need to live vicariously to experience parental attention and romantic love #newsies #newsies 1992 #javid #idk i just like sick fics #i have never felt taken care of without feeling deeply ashamed of needing anything or anyone #92sies #david jacobs #jack kelly #fanfiction #sickfic

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orangesand-lemons-234 · 2 months

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TW: Death

---

There had only ever been two deaths in the Manhattan Lodge House.

13 years ago, a 12 year old boy named Rocky. A kid who'd been in the refuge for 8 years of his life and seemed to have contracted every virus he could've caught.

He went out quietly, passing away in his sleep and never waking up. An older girl, Nifty, was the one who found him and quickly informed Kloppman, who had him buried later that week in the patch of grass outside.

The second time was after the fight.

Everybody was sleeping soundly, aside from Race and Albert. Jack was nowhere to be found, so until further notice, they were now the ones in command throughout the house. They couldn't bring themselves to fall asleep in case something were to happen, so they were trying to keep themselves awake as long as possible.

They were simply lying there, Race tracing random patterns onto Albert's thighs with his thumb, while Albert smoked his cigar, trying to relax after such a rough day.

At around 01.36, Tommy Boy rushed over to their bunk, tears spilling down his face and panic in his eyes.

"Jesus Tommy, what's happening?" Albert asked, quickly showing himself to a sitting position. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"I think I did-" He stuttered out. "Splasher ain't waking up. We shook him, said his name, slapped him a few times but he still ain't wakin' up-"

Race swung himself off the bunk, Albert following suit and running to Splashers bunk, praying to whoever was up there that the situation wasn't as bad as they were thinking.

At the bunk, Buttons could be seen holding Splashers limp body in his arms, sobbing to himself.

"Buttons...is he-" Race began, before being cut off by Buttons slowly nodding his head.

"He's gone." Buttons whispered, wiping his cheeks as dry as he could get them. "My baby brother is gone."

A few more people were starting to wake up at the noise they were all making. JoJo had caught onto what had happened, and while his shake had come back, he was ushering some of the younger kids out of the room, making the situation easier for the ones in charge.

"C'mon Ike, outta bed." He whispered, Mike asleep on his back and Mush at his side. "Yeah, we's gonna go on a little midnight walk, aye?"

"Jo, yous are shakin'." Specs uttered, putting a hand on the other boys arm. "That ain't happened in a while, you sure you's are good?"

"I'm fine." JoJo replied, walking the kids out of the room. "Call for me when we can come back in."

Specs nodded, walking over to the group at the bed.

Albert had run downstairs to go and grab Kloppman, let him know about the situation on their hands, leaving Racer, Buttons, Tommy Boy, Specs, and poor Splish-Splash.

Tommy Boy was holding onto Buttons, who was now sobbing into his shoulder. Racer had Splashers body covered with a bedsheet, a few specs of blood from his injuries seeping through.

"Christ." Race sighed, unable to break his watch on the body. "Kids only what, eight? Still had everythin' ahead of him."

Soon enough, word had spread to everybody in the room about the death, Kloppman running in with Albert beside him, confirming the fact for everyone.

That night, Splasher stayed lying on that bed with the sheet remaining atop of him.

The next morning, Finch and Henry were sent outside to dig another spot in the ground where they'd lay Splasher just a few hours later.

Much like with Rocky, it was only some of the older Newsies who went out to witness the burial.

Tommy Boy and Buttons were crying again. They'd just lost their little brother, the kid they'd practically raised throughout their childhoods. Now he was gone, just like that, all because of that stupid rally. Kind words had been said, but that doesn't bring back the most important person in their lives.

Race and Albert were dead silent, practically unable to speak from shock and fear. How had Jack done this for so long without cracking? It was their first day, and a kid had just died. They'd been told that it wasn't their fault by Kloppman numerous times, but it just couldn't sit right with them that a child died under their supervision.

JoJo was leading a small prayer service. He hadn't stopped shaking, making a short note to himself to tell the nuns how long this one seemed to be going on for. He'd been in charge of keeping the little kids occupied and distracted, but he knew deep down that there was only so long he could hide the death of one of the loudest kids in the house. He was just praying the day wouldn't be sooner but much later.

For multiple years after, they would look out the window and see the graves of Splasher and Rocky, remembering two kids who ended up dying to fend for themselves and their families.

It wasn't about pennies from that moment onwards. It was about remembering the newsies lost selling to help their family and striking to help future generations.

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