His Thing

Chapter 19

"I know", JoJo sighed, looking around. "Hell, even we's was arguin'."

Race chuckled, feeling tears begin to fill his eyes. He couldn't handle this kind of stress.

He liked to imagine Jack was giving him a test, a test to see if he was fit to lead this group of theirs. If he was fit to lead the Newsies.

But as far as he knew, tests only last about a day, two at the most. It's been four weeks.

Davey hasn't shown up.

Crutchie ain't said a word.

And Jack left.

He promised to never leave.

"Vorrei che fosse qui", he whispered, avoiding eye contact with his best friend. JoJo chuckled.

"That, I understood", he joked, placing his head on Race's shoulder. "Y yo también."

——————

"They're falling apart with out you, kid", Medda informed, her eyes now kind and her expression soft. "Half of them ain't got a clue what to do."

"I'm sure they're fine", Jack shrugged, his hands wrapped in each other. "They don't need me."

"No, they do."

"Medda, nobody needs me. I'm scum, a street rat."

"Jack, you know that's not true-"

"Well, my father seemed to think so", Jack shouted, thankfully not grabbing the attention of the other customers. "He didn't need me. That's why he left me. He got himself locked up so he could get as far away from me as possible, but I'll save you the trouble."

Medda sighed, looking down at the table. "Is that what this is about?"

"That's what it's always been about, Mom", Jack says, his brows furrowed as his feelings came out. "Everythin' that ever happened to me is his fault."

"You're father was a good man-"

"Oh, yeah? And how would you know? Far as I'm concerned, you and me don't know the guy."

Medda sighed, realizing she wasn't going to get through to him this way. There was so much to unpack here, so much he wasn't truly ready for. But there was stuff he needed to know.

"In 1949", she started, taking a deep breath. "You were seven. You're mother passed away just two years before."

Jack listened closely to what she was saying, knowing there was a reason to this story.

"Your father, Jeffrey", Medda sighed, shaking her head. "He made ends meet as best he could. Worked some odd jobs here and there, even worked for me for a while. That's how we met."

Yeah, I know that. Jack remembered the day he ran to the theater having had no where else to go. He remembered Medda's welcoming hug, the tears flowing down her cheeks, and the smile she kept on his face. "So?"

"So, one day there was a fire", Medda continued, clearing her throat briefly. "It was at a shopping center that Katherine Pulitzer happened to be at."

Jacks brows furrowed. "Like-"

"Like Joseph Pulitzer's wife, yes."

He didn't know the guy was capable of feelings. Nonetheless, it would explain Katherine's red hair. "What- what happened to her?"

"Well, she died", Medda says slowly, looking Jack in the eyes. "In the fire. They never caught the guys who actually caused it, but they did catch your dad. That's why he's in prison."

Oh. Jack looked at his hands, letting everything sink in.

The fact he didn't have a home until he was seven.

The fact he struggled to teach himself to be a man.

The fact he was where he is now.

That wasn't his father's fault. It was the bastards who blamed him. The bastards who blamed him.

Something about that didn't sit right with him, like he knew deep down who caused the fire and blamed his father, but he chose to ignore it, deeming it nerves.

"I-" He couldn't believe it. He always knew his dad was innocent, but it feels good to hear it. To hear that he's not a hero, or a villain, but a man. Someone who's been done wrong. "Wow."

"I know", Medda sighed, placing a hand on his. She ignored the weird looks. "I get it."

Jack stared at the table, shaking his head. "Is that why Pulitzer hates me?"

"Have you spoken to him?"

"A few weeks ago", Jack nods, looking up. "That's why I-"

He couldn't say it. To admit that he ran out on his friends, it would make him just as bad as those guys who left his father out to dry. That's what he did to "Davey."

Medda hummed, nodding. "You left that boy a mess. I haven't seen him since I saw him crying in the park."

"Crying in the..." Jack can't believe he did that, to someone he loves, no less. To leave someone so broken-hearted, so left alone. He basically took back everything he ever said to him, everyone little hug and touch and kiss was snatched out of his heart, leaving it empty. "Oh, my God."

"I'm not forcin' you to come home with me", Medda starts, grabbing the attention of the teenager. "But I am asking you to think about it. The boys need you, and who else am I supposed to talk to way late at night?"

Jack smiled softly as Medda placed a hand on his cheek before getting up, leaving the restaurant. He sat still for a minute, staring at the door and waiting for a chance to run.

That's when he bolted up and ran to the back of the restaurant, giving not one care to who he startled.

——————

Davey sat on his couch, watching TV with his little brother.

He hadn't been in the mood to do much else. His heart was broken, his grades were slipping, and his parents were down his back. Hell, he might as well just die.

"Davey", Sarah called softly, walking into the living area. He didn't look up. "I'm going to the bookstore with Kath. Would you like to come?"

He sat unmoving, staring at what seemed to be the wall as he unknowingly ignored her, leaving the question with space.

"Okay. I'll see you later."

The door closed quickly, Davey still unmoving despite the volume of it. He didn't do anything, couldn't do anything. He supposed that's what happens when you're heart breaks.

You die a little.