Newsies Fanfic, Parts 1 & 2
{Note: I'm not back from my Hiatus, but I wanted to share something I've been working on. @Spotsies ' amazing art has inspired me to keep writing this piece, and I hope that I'm doing the Newsies justice. Thank you!}
Tabitha Howl adjusted her hat as she walked up to the news stand. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her hazel eyes were fierce as she approached the stand. It was New York, 1899, and this was Tabby’s first day as a newsboy (er.... girl...). She adjusted her vest and rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing strong arms.
“PAPES FOR THE NEWSIES, LINE UP BOYS! THESE PAPES AIN’T GONNA SELL THEMSELVES!” She heard a voice yell, and she put her hands in her pockets, gripping her 30 cents tightly. 40 papers was her quota today, and as she moved forward in line she felt the gaze of more and more teenage boys on her back, or more accurately, on her legs. She was wearing a pair of trousers, with high socks and a pair of brown loafers. “40 Papes,” she said, putting her quarter and nickel down on the moneybox.
“Lookie what we got here, boys! A girl!” exclaimed a short, rotund, mustachioed man with an unlit cigar between his lips.
A pair of twins behind him chuckled, and one of them sauntered out from behind the stand. He approached her and got right up in her face. “Hiya, sweetheart.”
Tabby glared, clenching her fists, and taking a step back, tensing up and readying a swing.
“Hows about you come with me behind the stand and get to--”
“Ey, Weasel! Maurice! Leave her alone and jus’ get her her papes!” She heard a voice from behind her say. A boy limped forward, supported by his crutch, followed by a tall, (admittedly handsome) dark-haired, rascally boy of around the same age.
Weasel coughed. “enough, Maurice, come on back.” he handed Tabby the papers, and then moved on to the next newsie.
Tabby shook her head and took her paper bundle, counting them once, twice, three times until she was sure he had given her the right number. “Hey, miss?” a small voice said, and she felt a tug on the hem of her vest. She looked down to see a boy of about 10 looking up at her with kind eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Kid, Maurice didn't rough you up too bad, did he?” The brown haired boy looked angrily at the twins behind the table.
Tabby shook her head. “Nah, but he needs to learn the meanin’ of personal space.” she said, sticking her papers in her cloth sack.
“I'm Jack Kelly, this is Crutchie,” he gestured over his shoulder and Crutchie waved sheepishly, “This is Les, and this is-”
“Les! Les, here’s your papes,” a boy with a hawkish nose and a mess of black hair said, handing Les his papers, before doing a double-take at the new girl.
“Davey, Les’ older brudda,” Jack finished with a chuckle.
Tabby smiled and tipped her hat in greeting. “Hiya fellas.”
“You got a name or what?” Jack said back, crossing his arms.
“Tabby. Name’s Tabby.” She said, winking at Crutchie.
Davey looked at Les and then at Tabby. “I, ah, heard the commotion.”
“Yeah, you looked about ready ta slug Maurice clean into next week’s headline!” Crutchie said with a laugh, and the girl couldn't help but smile back.
“Imagine that, huh? ‘New Kid Gives Bullheaded Delancey Brother a Run For His Money’!” Jack said, staring off at the headline board.
Tabby giggled at that, shaking her head as she readjusted the bag on her shoulder. “I think I oughtta hit the streets.”
“Hey, why don't we give ya the Newsies tour?”
“Yeah! Jack here knows jus’ about all of the best places to stake out!” Crutchie affirmed, moving over and patting Jack on the shoulder with a beam of pride.
“Sure, ‘s long as we don’t gotta go to Brooklyn…” the newest Newsie muttered, looking away.
“Why? Ya scared of Brooklyn?” Jack asked jokingly, smacking her on the arm in an attempt to lighten her mood.
“Hey! Easy now, slugga,” Tabitha shot back. “I ain't scared of nothin’. It's just Brooklyn an’ I don't really get along too well.”
“Well, we’ll keep ya outta Brooklyn,” Crutchie said, gently placing his free hand on her shoulder.
“And out of trouble,” Davey said, nodding.
“Aw, enough wit’ all this gushy stuff, fellas! I ain't no softie!” A low growl came from Tabby’s mouth, and she looked to Jack. “Lead the way!”
Tabby’s day had been, for the most part, successful. She found herself with only 3 papes left over from her original bundle of 40. Granted, she had to… ahem…. “bend the story” just a bit, but she got ‘em sold, and that was the important thing.
She stepped into the back of the line leading up to the newsstand and leaned on the wall. She was last in line, and no one seemed to be steppin’ in behind her.
“Heya Tabby!” She heard a voice call out from in front of her, and she caught sight of little Les leaning out of the line, holding on to one of Davey’s suspender straps to hold him upright and waving. Davey looked like he was about to fall over, which made the newbie start to chuckle.
Tabby waved back. This seemed to satisfy Les and he stopped pulling at Davey’s suspender strap, much to the older boy’s relief.
The other boys were gone by the time Tabby had gotten up to the front of the line. She turned in her papes and took her payment, and just as she was about to turn away she felt a hand on her shoulder. It turned her around, and she was face-to-face with the same numbskull from that morning.
“How’s about we continue our conversation from this mornin’, Sweetheart?” Maurice DeLancey said, smiling crookedly.
“How’s about we don’t?” Tabitha replied, jerking her shoulder away and turning back around. She bumped into the other twin, and his grin matched that of his brother’s.
“Aw, c’mon, we’ve had a long day,” He said softly, but the softness of his voice held a razor’s edge that said he clearly wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. “Why don’t you stay a while?”
Tabby sidestepped Oscar. “No thanks fellas. I got places to be.” Nervousness rose in her throat, and her right hand went deep into her pocket, clutching something metal there.
“Where ya goin’?” Oscar said, grabbing her left arm. “It ain’t even suppertime yet.”
“Let me go.” There was a soft snarl in Tabby’s voice. Cold. Threatening. It was a don’t-mess-with-me-sounding snarl. An I’m-not-afraid-to-get-messy kind of snarl.
“Not until we have a little…. chat, first.” Maurice said, licking his lips.
That was the final straw for the girl they were holding. Her right arm came out of her pocket and made contact with Oscar’s face with such lightning speed that neither of the twins saw it coming. Oscar reeled back, releasing Tabby and clutching his now-bleeding nose with a curse. On Tabby’s right hand was a set of brass knuckles, glinting in the lamplight. She stepped back, preparing both hands for a fight. She looked like a boxer as one leg was placed just a little bit more forward than the other.
Maurice rushed at her and grabbed her arms, shoving her into the wall. “No one says ‘no’ to Oscar and Maurice DeLancey,” he said, punching her in the eye.
Tabby yelped and struggled. “Get used to it!” she replied, pounding her heel onto his toes. He let out a yowl of pain, but didn’t loosen his grip. Instead of laying down another good punch, he kicked his other leg into Tabby’s shin full-force.
There was a loud SNAP! as she felt her leg break, and the newsie fell to the ground with a cry. She landed on her side, and looked up at Maurice with unadulterated contempt, her eye starting to swell as he landed another kick to her face, slicing open her cheek.
“Ya gonna give up?” Maurice asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Oscar joined him, crooked nose still bleeding.
“Or are ya askin’ for more?” Oscar finished for his brother, sounding a little stuffy. Both of the twins glared down at Tabby in a predatory manner, and the girl could only muster up one response through the pain and the fear she was feeling.
She spat right at their feet, a mixture of blood and saliva spattering their shoes.
Oscar and Maurice started to advance, before something came flying out of nowhere, tackling Oscar to the ground.
“Davey!” She heard a familiar voice yell as the figure grappled with its victim. “Get Maurice!”
Davey Jacobs came running around the corner, barrelling into the second brother like a freight train and moving him away from the Newsie’s newest member.
Tabby looked at the figure who had tackled her first perpetrator, recognizing a mess of dark brown hair. “Jack?”
“Whaddaya still doin’ here!?!” he yelled incredulously, dodging a blow from a brass-knuckled fist. “We’s got this, now go!”
"We promised ya we'd keep ya outta trouble!" Davey called back, taking a blow from Maurice straight to the gut.
“I can’t--!” She felt someone grab her arms and pull her up, then someone else move their shoulder under hers, supporting her weight so it was all off of her broken leg. They were moving now.
“Hiya doll,” the first boy said, and Tabby looked up to see a fox-like grin and icy blue eyes, with a couple of locks of curly, honey-brown hair poking out from underneath his hat. The boy was holding an unlit cigar in his mouth. “The name’s Racetrack.”
She looked at the other boy supporting her. He smiled lopsidedly. “Hi. I’m Romeo,” he said flirtatiously, making the brunette scoff. His hair was black and his skin was an olive-color, and he had kind brown eyes.
The two lead her away from the commotion and to the safety of a small diner. Jacobi’s. She knew the place well.
Inside was a whole smattering of different members of the newsies gang that she had seen this morning. Crutchie was sitting on a table but sprung to his feet as fast as he could when he saw how injured Tabby was. Les was there too, looking worried, and he ran over to Tabby to inspect her leg. He sucked in a breath. “That looks bad….”
Race and Romeo sat Tabby down in a chair as someone else approached her. This time, it was a young woman, with delicate features and rusty red hair. She had ink stains all over her dress and hands, and her hair was tied back in a messy bun. “Oh my goodness….” she said softly. “What happened?”
“The DeLancey bruddas happened….” Tabby said through gritted teeth. Mr. Jacobi brought some clean cloths and some glasses of cold water to help the girl clean herself up. Tabby muttered a “thank you” as she removed her brass knuckles and set them on the table.
Les looked at the metal object and took a wary step back, staring with wide eyes.
Tabby noticed as she dipped one of the cloths in the water and washed her face off, the blood quickly turning the white cloth red. After her face was cleaned of the blood, she held the cloth to the open gash on her cheek. She smiled, though it hurt, and said “Don’ worry, Les. I only use ‘em when I haveta.”
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