Blitz: A Newsies Story

Chapter 14: That's What Love Is

((Hey Fansies! I'm so so so sorry that it has taken me so long to update! Here's a longer chapter for you as an apology. I hope you guys like it! Just a quick warning - there is a part that talks about abuse and alcoholism in this chapter, so heads up. Thanks for reading! I love you all!))

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Chapter 14: That's What Love Is

After the area around the Distribution Center had been emptied of both the scabs and my friends, the Delancey brothers informed me it was time to go.

"What, back ta the Refuge a'ready?" I grumbled under my breath, wiping tears from my eyes.

"What would ya prefer, Princess?" Morris asked with a smirk, "You want us ta give ya a tour 'a Manhattan? We can even take ya by the Newsies Lodgin' House, I'm sure ya friends would love ta see ya, especially poor little Racetrack."

I fixed him with a glare. "You leave him alone," I snarled.

Morris raised his hands in mock defense, winking at me while Oscar laughed. "Don't worry, I will," Morris said, his voice teasing.

"Me on the other hand," Oscar said with a smirk, "I ain't making no promises."

I took a threatening step towards him, raising my fist as if to punch him, but the brothers shook their heads in unison, knowing I couldn't take them both. "Careful, Princess," said Oscar, "We wouldn't want ta break that pretty face'a yours, but don't think we won't."

I glared daggers at them, but let my hands fall, almost in defeat. "What did the newsies ever do ta you that ya hate 'em so much?" I asked all of a sudden.

Morris and Oscar looked slightly taken aback. "What did they do?" repeated Morris, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"Yeah," I said. "Ya get paid more than they do. Ya have a place ta stay where ya don't have ta pay for a bed every night. Ya don't go hungry every other day. Ya have a stable job," I said, rattling off the list as though it were obvious, "So why do ya torment 'em?"

The brothers exchanged a look, seemingly unsettled by my question. "We only have all 'a that because of Mr. Pulitzer," said Morris slowly.

Oscar chewed on his lip for a moment and then said, "That stable job ya mentioned? Our job is ta soak newsies that step outa line. That's what we get paid ta do. That's what Uncle Weisel expects of us."

"If we didn't do what old man Pulitzer said, we wouldn't be much better off than the street rats you run around with," Morris said quietly. "We don't hate the newsies. We never have. We just do what we get paid ta do and go on with our lives. If ya don't think about it too much, it's easy."

Oscar fixed me with a hard stare. "We don't have a King for a brother, or an army of street rats ta look out for us when we need help," he growled, taking a step closer. "We never had parents ta teach us what was right an' what was wrong," another step closer. "We've never had anyone ta even care whether or not we came home at the end'a the day." He was now very close to me. I stepped back and found myself pressed up against the wall of the distribution center.

"When ya life is shit, ya do what ya can to make it betta for ya'self," Oscar whispered, his face inches from mine. "No one takes care'a us but us, so we look out for each otha and we do what we can. If soakin' newsies makes our lives a little easier, so be it."

I slowly let out a breath I hadn't even realized I had been holding. "You think you had it rough?" I let out a cold, mirthless laugh, "You think you know pain? My father was a drunk. He was addicted to alcohol like it was his life's blood and he could never stop. It possessed his mind an' clouded his judgment, and changed him inta a terrible man. He used ta beat my brother when he flew inta his drunken rages. My mother left just weeks after I was born because she couldn't take it no more. She couldn't stand not bein' able to protect my brother, and she knew she wouldn't be able to protect me either, so she ran, and she neva looked back."