Chapter Text
Mush had an entire life before being arrested for theft and being shipped off to the Refuge for eighteen months. An entire eleven years of freedom.
And yet, as he sits in his bed on the morning of his release, he doesn’t feel anything other than wary dread about having to face the outside world once again. What had he even done before being in jail? How had he lived?
One of his bunkmates kicks him, harder than is necessary but that’s just what Scraps is like.
“Move it Mush, I’s got dibs on top when you’se gone.” He snaps. “And if you miss your release Snyder’ll keep ya another eighteen months.”
Mush groans and finally pries himself into a standing position and stretching languidly. Scraps shoves him again, herding him towards the door.
“Move it, you think I’m kidding?” He snaps. “I want your bunk, I’s seen kids miss release.”
“Okay, jeez, I’m going.” Mush replies, shoving back angrily and getting a fist in the gut for his trouble. Last day and he finally ticked off Scraps. He supposes it was only a matter of time – everyone here has some sort of horror story involving the kid and his fighting capability.
Wheezing from the hit, he’s unable to resist as his much shorter bunkmate shoves him the rest of the way to the front lobby, ignoring the guards who try to grab him and force him back into the inner halls of the Refuge.
“Don’t get killed out there I guess.” Scraps tells him boredly, leaning against the doorframe to the lobby as Mush finally recovers. “Snyder ain’t got jurisdiction in Brooklyn, so I’d suggest going there if ya don’t wanna get dragged back here eventually. You’se thirteen, yeah?”
Mush raises an eyebrow. “Around there, sure.” He confirms. This is the most Scraps has ever spoken to him and he’s not sure how to feel about it.
“If ya need a job, selling papes is gonna be easiest. You’se a bit old for it, but should be fine.”
Mush has no idea why he’s being told this, but he takes the advice under advisement and nods uncertainly. Scraps nods back and then turns and heads back into the Refuge, shoving off a guard that tries to grab him, presumably to drag him back in.
Mush exhales heavily and turns towards the front doors. It’s been a while since he’s been in this room, and longer since he’s seen actual sunlight without grimy windows dimming it, so he’s a bit nervous about how bright it’s going to be once he leaves.
However, the guard at the front desk is as lenient with him as Scraps had been, and he’s barely given ten seconds to brace himself before he’s being grabbed by the forearm and physically ejected from the building.
Sure enough the sun is blinding, and he has to press his palms into his eyes for a good thirty seconds before the white blotches begin to fade and he’s able to squint his eyes back open.
It’s still way too bright, but now he can hear the door behind him opening and he doesn’t want to be dragged back into the Refuge so he bolts, darting down the street and swerving into a side alley to avoid being seen. It’s also darker here, which gives his eyes a better chance to adjust to the outside world.
Once he’s certain he hasn’t been followed he leans back against one of the walls and finds himself again stuck with the same problem he’d had before – he has no idea what to do next.
He supposes, for as much as he’d had a life before the Refuge, he’d also had parents. But they’d both died a few months before his arrest, which was why he’d even been stealing in the first place.
He sighs and feels the familiar, old ache in his chest at the thought of his family. They hadn’t been the best parents, but they’d been doing their best, something he appreciates a lot more now that he’s tried to survive on his own.
Scraps had mentioned Brooklyn. He’s not sure exactly where that is, but he thinks it’s across a bridge so he decides to head for the sound of seagulls and hope for the best.
Thankfully there are signs pointing towards Brooklyn once he gets closer to the docks, and he follows them across a massive bridge that takes nearly fourty minutes to walk across. At least by the time he reaches the other side, his eyes have fully adjusted and he’s not having to squint at everything.
He stops as he steps off the bridge and looks around. Right, now what? Scraps had mentioned selling papers, but Mush had never really figured out how to get a job in the couple months between his parents’ deaths and being locked up, and he’s not any more sure how to do that now than he was then.
“Extra, extra! Read all about it, coal mine explodes! Dozens killed, more injured!”
Mush follows the voice to find a short boy with broad shoulders and a square jaw standing on top of a table outside a small deli, waving the day’s paper through the air.
Several passersby pause to purchase a copy, and the boy grins winningly at each of them as he thanks them.
Mush walks up uncertainly, and the boy raises an eyebrow, looking him up and down critically.
“You looking for a job?” He guesses, and Mush grins awkwardly.
“That obvious?” He asks. “Just got outta The Refuge – they said this was the place to go.”
The boy eyes him a bit longer then shrugs and shoves his papers into his bag. “Sure. You ain’t look much like a Rat. I’m Spot Conlon.”
“Nicholas Meyers.” He responds, his real name feeling odd on his tongue after a year and a half of only ever hearing his nickname. “But they call me Mush.”
Spot raises an eyebrow, amused. “What’d’ya do to deserve that nickname?”
Mush isn’t amused. “I’s Romani. It’s a term of endearment to my people – means friend.”
Spot blinks, then shrugs. “Whatever. Come on, I’ll take ya to where Stray is selling. She’ll get ya set up, show you the ropes.”
Stray is a willowy black girl with soft brown eyes but a smile that looks like it could cut steel. She studies Mush skeptically, and he feels like every one of his mistakes, failures, and flaws are being systematically analyzed and broken down, even the non-physical ones.
“You know what this job entails?” She asks him, and he grimaces.
“Um, no? Scraps recommended I come out here.” He admits honestly, and Spot sighs as Stray gives him a distinctly unimpressed look.
“Right, Spot, show him the ropes, then bring him back around here. And no talk about Scraps around here, he ain’t liked and if you aim to join up ya don’t want to be associated with degenerates like that.” She snaps, and Spot gives a lazy salute as Mush swallows hard, firmly cowed by the woman he had severely underestimated.
“Is she always like that?” He asks Spot as the other boy leads him away, and he laughs.
“She’s leader of Brooklyn.” He replies, like that answers the question. Mush supposes it must – he never paid much mind to the newsboys growing up and always assumed he’d start in the factories when he was eleven. Then the accident had happened and, well, now he’s got no parents and even less interest in factory work. “Why’s you here if you ain’t know anything? Don’t just say Scraps told you, you didn’t have to listen to him.”
Mush shrugs. “Had no other leads I guess. My folks are gone.”
“Sorry ta hear it. We can get ya settled in the Boarding House then, if you’se decide to stay.”
“Or if Stray lets me, I think.” Mush points out, and Spot grimaces.
“She’s twenty-one – well due to leave.” He says. “Won’t really matter what she thinks by next month, and her second is alright. Shouldn’t have a problem so long as someone in the group vouches for you.”
“And you’d do that? You ain’t even know me.” Mush points out, and Spot shrugs and gives him a knowing grin.
“You ain’t given me a reason not to yet. Besides, Refuge or not, I’s got more power around here than you do. Be smart not to get on my bad side if you’re planning to stick around.”
Mush raises an eyebrow. He genuinely can’t tell if Spot is threatening him or if he’s just joking around. Even having been in the Refuge long enough to attain “Rat” status (basically surviving in the walls for one consecutive year) Mush sometimes has trouble telling the difference, so he does what he always does: defaults to assuming it was a joke.
“Yeah, sure.” He replies lightly. “So how does this work?”
Spot looks impressed. “You ain’t easy to shake – I like that in a kid. You might fit in after all.” He notes. “Come on then, I’ll show ya the boundaries and teach you how a real Newsie hawks papes.”
Mush spends the rest of the day feeling incredibly awkward, like a puzzle piece stuck in the wrong place but no one has noticed because it’s close enough to correct that it doesn’t warrant a second glance. Spot makes selling look easy, and the older teen (Mush learns about halfway through the day that Spot is seventeen, despite being half a foot shorter than Mush) is almost aggressively friendly with him, acting like they’re old friends rather than people who had only met hours earlier.
As the sun sets Spot steers them into a large courtyard area where a wagon sits, loaded with stacks of papers and full of other kids all roughhousing and shouting at each other.
One of the girls looks over and raises an eyebrow. “Hey Spot, who’s the newbie?”
“This here is Mush.” Spot announces, and it’s almost unnerving how quickly everyone falls quiet and turns to face the two of them – Spot really does seem to have power around here. “He’s gonna be joining us from now on – just got out of The Refuge this morning.”
Mush doesn’t recall actually confirming that he’d join, but he supposes he really doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and the people in front of him don’t seem to mind Spot’s announcement as they rather quickly go back to what they were doing.
Only the girl who had initially inquired as to Mush’s identity keeps her focus on them, trotting over and studying Mush critically. “You was in after me.” She decides after a moment, spitting on her her hand and shoving it at Mush for a shake, which he quickly accepts. “I’s Mack. Second in command.”
“Mush. Um, new?” He offers, and she raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah, got that. I can take him from here Spot.” She adds, almost threateningly, to the teen that’s been showing Mush around, but Spot pushes back.
“Nah, it’s good, I’ve got ‘im.” He replies lightly, but there’s a definite tension between the two as they stare each other down. Finally Mack rolls her eyes and backs off.
“Fine. I’ll settle him tonight.”
“Fair enough. Come on Mush, let’s get you your first stack of papes.”
It’s only after they’ve left the courtyard some half an hour later that Mush risks asking about the odd encounter.
Spot scoffs at the question. “Mack is fine. We was both viable to be second, and she’s still wary of me. I ain’t gonna fight her over it, though, ‘less she gives me a reason to.” He declares lightly, though there’s still an edge of something dangerous in his tone, and Mush really isn’t sure he believes Spot’s claim.
Still, nothing really seems to come of it, at least not in the next several months. Mush settles in well enough as a Brooklyn Newsie, and though he doesn’t make much he’s able to get by decently enough.
He finds himself usually selling close by the water, enjoying the bustle of the docks and the variety of people who frequent the bridge, though he tends to get chased off in the afternoons when one of the evening sellers arrives and stakes his claim on the spot Mush occupies in the mornings.
The only person, other than Spot, who he’s really gotten to know is Annie Cohen, a girl his age who started selling only a few months before he had. She’s snarky but compassionate, and very pretty, which he makes the mistake of admitting to Spot one day, resulting in endless teasing from the older boy.
He also has technically gotten to know Mack and Stray better, but he’s rather wary of the two women – both are long haulers from the Refuge (not full-on lifers but both spent over five years total within the walls) and it definitely shows in how they choose to lead the borough. Mush has privately started calling certain actions “Refuge Habits”, and the two leaders have them in spades.
For the most part he doesn’t see the harm in the Habits – he has quite a few of them as well, after all. Hoarding food and blankets is just good sense, especially with winter quickly approaching. The ones he’s warier of are those of the violent variety, and both Mack and Stray seem perfectly happy to use physical force on the Brooklyn Newsies who step out of line, as well as against any other borough Newsies who happen to step foot on Brooklyn territory.
Brooklyn, Mush learns, is the most feared borough in New York precisely because of Stray and the other Refuge kids upholding this sort of violent defense. Which makes it extremely confusing when, one rainy November afternoon, after Mush is run off from his morning selling spot, he sees a Newsie in non-Brooklyn colors hopping off the end of the Brooklyn bridge.
He frowns and decides to tail the other kid – better not to start a scene or a turf war if he doesn’t have to. As much as he understands the need to sometimes speak using fists instead of words, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be reckless.
The kid keeps to the shore, glancing around nervously as he goes, which of course doesn’t make him look good. Eventually Mush sighs and picks up his pace, catching up to the other teen just as he’s passing an alley and dragging him into it by his shirt collar. He tosses the guy against one of the walls and positions himself so the other can’t get past him.
“Shit.” The boy mutters, looking up at him warily. “Look, I swear I ain’t selling, okay? I’s running an errand for my ma – she needs some stuff picked up.”
Mush eyes him, then hums. “A’right. Let’s say I believe you.” He says, and the boy deflates and winces, obviously expecting a hit. As such, he’s obviously surprised when Mush keeps talking instead of punching. “You can’t just stroll around Brooklyn turf looking like an invading Newsie. I’s done selling for now so I can escort you where ya need to go.”
The boy blinks in obviously surprise, and then nods slowly. “I ain’t got anything to change into.” He explains awkwardly. “Was hoping not having the hat or bag would help.”
“You stand out like a sore thumb.” Mush replies honestly, and the kid laughs.
“Can’t say I didn’t try at least.” He replies. “I’m JoJo. Lower Manhattan.”
“Mush.” Mush doesn’t bother stating his borough – he thinks it’s fairly obvious where he works.
“Nice ta meet you. Thanks for not soaking me immediately.” JoJo chuckles awkwardly as Mush finally steps aside so they can leave the alleyway. “You’se the first one. Always stressful coming over here for ma, but she ain’t got time to do everything herself, ya know? She’s got work too, and the girls are too little to go alone.”
Mush hums. JoJo is surprisingly chatty, though it’s possible he’s just a nervous talker, vomiting out whatever comes to mind to try and keep himself safe and whatever he’s feeling threatened by distracted.
Mush doesn’t mind though, just follows JoJo through the streets to a rather unassuming storefront, then waits outside while JoJo picks up a package from the man at the front desk.
“Thanks for the escort.” JoJo says as they head back towards the bridge. “I think the guys were starting to think I was secretly boxing or something on Saturdays for how often I’d get back to the Boarding House beat ta hell. I can only tell ‘em it was Morris so many times before that gets pathetic.”
“The enforcer?” Mush recalls, and JoJo beams.
“Yeah! I didn’t think you was actually listening. I’ve always wondered, does Brooklyn have an enforcer? You lot are so tough I always thought there’d be no point. Or that your enforcer would be super scary.”
“Ain’t got an enforcer, just a kid who hands out the papes.” Mush responds. “Stray and Mack keeps the Newsies in line better’n anyone else could anyway.”
JoJo shudders. “Oh, yeah. I’s heard of them. They’s Refuge Rats, right?” He shudders again.
Mush raises an eyebrow and decides not to share that he’s technically a Rat as well – JoJo seems shaken enough. “Sure, they’s pretty rough. But it keeps things moving, and they’s better’n Snyder the Spider any day of the week.” He replies.
JoJo just shudders again. “Still. I dunno if I could handle it. I’s just glad I’ve managed to keep out of the Refuge so far. Ain’t needed to do anything that could get me in trouble, and I do my best to help the other boys too, if they’s situation is getting desperate. So’s they don’t have to steal nothing just to live.”
Mush side-eyes him at that. JoJo definitely isn’t the smartest if he’s just giving things away to help people outside of his family – that’s how you get yourself starved or taken advantage of. He doesn’t comment, though: he doesn’t know this kid well enough to care anyway.
When they get back to the bridge JoJo turns to beam at him. “Hey, thanks again Mush, was real swell of ya to help me out. Maybe I’ll see ya around again, yeah? I’s over here every Saturday afternoon.”
Mush just grunts and turns away, ignoring the cheerful “Alright, bye!” from JoJo as he heads back into the heart of Brooklyn.
He finds Spot at the boy’s usual selling place, and the shorter boy immediately grabs Mush’s ear and drags him down to Spot’s level.
“Where in the hell have ya been?” Spot hisses. “You was supposed to get here hours ago!”
Mush blinks. While he does usually come to sell with Spot after getting ousted from the docks, he hadn’t realized the older boy cared so much. “Sorry. Escorted a Manhattan Newsie to pick up some stuff for his ma. Wanted to make sure he wasn’t up to anything funny.”
Spot relaxes and lets Mush stand up straight again. “Oh, JoJo.” He sighs. “That kid attracts trouble, I swear. Nice of ya ta help him like that, but I’d recommend keeping clear in the future. Lower Manhattan always gets themselves into the stupidest situations.”
Mush tilts his head in acknowledgement, and that’s the end of the conversation. Over the course of the week he nearly puts JoJo out of his mind entirely, too focused on making sure he gets enough food at each meal (keeping things away from the hoarders reminds him uncomfortably of mealtime at The Refuge) and selling the increasingly lackluster headlines.
Then Saturday rolls around again and he once again spots JoJo hopping off the bridge and heading into Brooklyn, still done up in Manhattan blues and clashing sharply with the dull colors around him.
Mush follows him for a bit and then, once he realizes JoJo is as oblivious to him now as he’d been the week before, calls out to the other boy.
“At least wear a coat or something ta blend it. It’s cold and blue stands out.”
JoJo jumps, then spins around with a bright grin. “Hey Mush! I was wondering if you was gonna say hi.” He replies cheerfully. “My baby sister needed the coat today – she got pneumonia last year and is real prone to getting sick these days.”
He continues walking, and Mush finds himself following once again, glaring down any Brooklyn Newsies they pass until they look away from JoJo, who prattles on cheerfully about his family until they reach the same storefront as the week before and he once again picks up a package. Then Mush walks him back to the bridge and goes to find Spot, who just sighs and rolls his eyes.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He tells Mush tiredly.
It becomes a weekly thing, after that. Mush starts to wait for JoJo at the bridge, and JoJo perks up every week without fail on seeing him, as if he’d been unsure if Mush would show up again. Mush learns all about JoJo’s family – his mother, who works three jobs, his three sisters aged 6, 8, and 12, the fact that JoJo himself is 14 and a year older than Mush, and that his father had passed away in a railway accident two years before, forcing JoJo to drop out of school and start hawking papers to help make ends meet.
JoJo shares everything freely, and even when speaking of his father’s death he never shows any negativity. It’s almost disorienting, how different JoJo is from the Brooklyn Newsies, and Mush starts looking forward to Saturday afternoon as the best part of his week.
That isn’t to say there aren’t good parts about being a Brooklyn Newsie – Spot, as it turns out, was right about having a lot of sway, and Mush is welcomed into his inner group of Newsies by the end of his first winter with the group. Through them he finds he has to fight less for food, for shelter, or for good spots to hawk.
He also begins learning about the inner politics of the Brooklyn Newsboys and what he learns isn’t the prettiest. Stray, as it turns out, had gained power via force rather than though being named as second in command by the previous leader. She’d had enough support then to be successful, but as she’s gotten closer to aging out herself she’s starting to show signs of resistance to a peaceful transfer of power, and her second Mack doesn’t seem inclined towards pushing her out either.
Mush honestly doesn’t see what the problem is, but Spot and the others in his circle are obviously agitated over the situation.
He also maintains a friendship with Annie, who he usually sells with on days with a weaker headline. Being a girl, she has an easier time selling papes, but being a girl she also deals with a lot of resentment, especially from the Queens Newises that sell near her spot at the border of their turf. So on days with a worse headline the two of them each buy half their papes and then Annie takes point on selling while Mush keeps Queens off her back. They split the earnings down the middle and trade off on who treats who for dinner.
It’s not until late February that Mush mentions JoJo to Annie to hear her thoughts on associating with Lower Manhattan. He knows that Spot thinks he’s crazy for it, and most of Spot’s inner circle agree – or if they don’t, they don’t have the guts to counter Spot.
Annie thinks it over for a bit before responding. “Manhattan ain’t really a borough to worry about, Upper or Lower.” She finally says. “Ain’t no harm in having friends there, but ain’t no benefit neither. Sort of a waste of time, I think. Though,” She adds with a shrug, “I know Queens better’n Manhattan.”
It’s not really what Mush wanted to hear, but at least it wasn’t fully negative so he accepts it and moves on.
Things could have stayed like that and Mush probably would have eventually aged out of being a Newsie and had to go find other work with his limited education and skillset.
Then Spot comes to him one day while he’s selling with Annie and drags him off without so much as a ‘by your leave’ to the stunned Newsgirl.
“You can keep a secret, yeah?” Spots asks him after squishing them both into a narrow alleyway some blocks away from where they’d left Annie.
Mush just blinks dumbly for a moment before finally getting his tongue working again. “Depends on the secret.”
Spot grins at him. “We’s taking down Stray. She can’t cling to her power any longer, else she’s gonna make things real bad for Newsies in Brooklyn.” He says. “I want you as one of my top folks on this.”
Mush frowns. “Why me? I ain’t even been here a year.” He points out. “I got no real friends other than you ‘n Annie.” He doesn’t mention JoJo because Spot always scowls when his name is brought up.
Spot grins. “And Scraps. ‘Least, you talk about him real casual – it’s got ya a lot of admirers, even if you don’t notice it.”
Mush frowns at that – he hasn’t noticed that. “What’d’ya mean by that?”
Spot laughs. “You realize that Scraps is scarier than the guards to most of these Rats, yeah? He’s been running things in The Refuge nearly as long as I’ve been selling these streets. Snyder’s the worst, but he’s second, and you ain’t scard of him at all. That’s powerful, that gets respect. People see you backing me and they’s gonna stand down.” He grins. “Even Mack is scared of Scraps.”
Mush doesn’t really understand that, but he does know that he never got on Scraps’ bad side. Or saw Scraps’ bad side. Mostly he just had to deal with Scraps complaining about everyone else while they got ready for bed, so he mostly sees the Refuge Ruler as a scrawny eleven-year-old with a big mouth and a penchant for collecting bruises and pissing off the guards.
So he just shrugs. “Never gave him a reason to make me scared, I guess.” He finally says, and Spot grins.
“And that’s why people respect ya.” He says conclusively, and then continues talking before Mush can even try to formulate a response. “Anyway, I wants you backing me up.”
“I got a choice?” Mush points out dryly, and Spot grins at him.
“Sure, but any other choice goes against your own interests.” He replies lightly, finally leaning out of Mush’s personal space, obviously knowing that despite what he’d just said, Mush only has one real option.
“Sure. Just tell me what to do.”
It takes another few weeks to get things set up, and during that time Mush keeps seeing JoJo. The other boy is a breath of fresh air when he feels like he’s drowning in the political games being played between Spot and Stray, who has obviously picked up on the fact that something is happening.
JoJo in many ways is an oasis away from the rest of his life in Brooklyn, so he’s rather startled when his friend brings up the political situation during one of their walks.
“Hey, word on the street says things are getting kind of rough with the Brooklyn Newsies.” He says, tone as light as ever despite the topic. “You doing alright?”
Mush blinks. “…Where did ya hear that? Things are fine.” He says gruffly after taking a moment to process the best response. If even the other boroughs are starting to get suspicious they’ll probably have to move up their timeline on the coup – he’ll have to tell Spot.
JoJo shrugs. “I don’t really care, just worried that you could get hurt. Stray is real mean – everyone knows that. I’s just worried she takes it out on you guys if things go bad.”
He’s not wrong – Stray has always been very physical with her anger and it’s only gotten worse as Spot and his crew have begun quietly turning people against her. Still, Mush himself has managed to keep clear of the fallout, and he tells JoJo as much.
“People don’t mess with me. Apparently not being scared of some folks from the Refuge makes me scary by proxy. I’s fine.” He assures the other boy, who’s smile is wide and relieved and makes Mush feel something warm in his chest that he hasn’t felt since losing his parents.
“That’s funny – you ain’t scary at all.” JoJo laughs. “You ain’t like the other Brooklyn Refuge kids. They’s always angry and ready to fight, but you’se… nice.” He takes a moment to decide on the word, but he seems pleased with it once he’s found it. “Still a little mean sometimes, but you ain’t seem like someone who would punch another person just cause ya don’t like their face.”
Mush just blinks at him, then shrugs. “I was only in for eighteen months.” He offers after a moment. “Ain’t had as much time to develop Refuge Habits, I guess.”
JoJo looks amused. “Refuge Habits. I like that.” He decides. “But I knows folks who ain’t been in that long who are still real mean, even if they don’t mean to be. You’se just a good sort, I think.”
That sentiment keeps Mush warm through the chilly spring evening and into the next week.
He warns Spot about the rumor mill on Monday, and his friend swears profusely.
“Only a matter of time before names start getting dropped.” He growls. “We gotta move up the timeline.”
Mush had figured as much – what he hadn’t factored in was that Spot wants to jump things from mid-July to next week.
“Spot, we ain’t got the support yet to move that fast.” One of the others involved in the coup points out, and Mush hums his agreement, but Spot waves her off.
“We ain’t got a choice. Stray gets too much information this whole thing gets shut down. You all remember how she got power.”
Mush can’t help thinking that they’re doing much of the same thing she had, but he bites his tongue. Apparently people had actually died during Stray’s takeover, and Mush knows that Spot has been very clear about keeping lethal violence out of their coup (though Mush has the uneasy feeling that if someone thinks lethal force is needed it may be pulled out as a desperate last stand).
Mush doesn’t know how he feels about any of it, but he lets himself be pulled along as he figures he’s in too deep to pull out now.
The next few days are a frenzy of planning in hushed whispers in side alleys, scanning nervously for anyone who might overhear and snitch on them to Stray. Mush hasn’t felt this tense since his arrest, which is saying something considering he’s generally on edge unless he’s with JoJo or Annie.
Thankfully that meeting happens on a Saturday morning, so he gets to see JoJo only an hour after leaving the group to continue planning without him, citing a need to sell some papes to get out of further planning.
He arrives a bit late and is worried that JoJo may have just gone on without him, but he’s glad to see the older boy (well, technically they’re both 14 now but JoJo will be 15 next month) is leaning against the side of the bridge, scanning the crowd.
Mush waves to him, and JoJo perks up and trots over.
“Hey, wasn’t sure if you was busy today. You didn’t say anything last week but-”
“Sorry for being late.” Mush interrupts quickly – if he doesn’t apologize now then JoJo will just keep going and he might not get the opportunity to.
JoJo beams at him. “It’s alright. I guess I’m just used to having my bodyguard these days.” He nudges Mush teasingly. “Glad you’se alright.”
Mush just hums and they fall into a quiet, friendly silence as they walk towards the usual store to pick up JoJo’s package.
As they walk, Mush can’t help but compare these moments to everything else currently happening is his life, and the rest of his life doesn’t even come close to how relaxed and safe he feels walking an enemy Newsie through streets that, even after nearly a year, still don’t feel friendly or familiar to him.
He’ll later blame the stress of everything currently happening for what he says next.
“Do you think I could be a Manhattan Newsie?”
JoJo actually trips, turning to look at him in shock. “Um… I’d have to ask Boots, I guess?” He finally says. “We’s getting a little busy these days – just had three new kids show up, which is already a lot more than usual for Lower Manhattan, but it is expanding so maybe-”
Mush cuts him off so JoJo can breathe. “I ain’t mean right now or anything.” He says quickly. “Just been thinking about stuff is all. Wanna know if I’s got options.”
JoJo practically sags in relief. “I can ask Boots for ya.” He agrees. “We could use some muscle – word around the streets says our distributor Weasel is looking to bring on a new enforcer. Morris is bad enough – two of him would be awful.”
JoJo then launches into another story about the Manhattan enforcer and things settle back into the comfortable normal that Mush associates with JoJo. When he leaves the other boy at the bridge a couple hours later, he feels like his chest is being hollowed out as the other walks away.
He’s pulled aside that night before he can head into the Boarding House, and he’s shoved several blocks down the street before being steered into an alleyway. He’s ready for a fight but turns to find that Mack is the one who’d pulled him away, and he relaxes his stance.
“Hey, everything alright?” He asks her, and she glowers at him.
“Don’t play stupid Mush.” She says sharply, and something in him stings with concern – Spot had assured him that his involvement in the coup wasn’t something anyone would guess, but Mack’s entire demeanor indicates that this conversation likely isn’t about anything else.
“Ain’t playing nothing, you ain’t told me what you dragged me out here for.” He explains, keeping his tone even and raising an eyebrow pointedly.
Mack scowls. “The coup. We knows Spot is planning something.” She says sharply. “I know he trained ya, but there’s a reason he ain’t got too many friends despite being here for years.”
Mush blinks at her slowly, not saying anything even as his mind is whirling. They don’t know he’s part of it. So why is Mack talking to him?
Mack pushes on when she doesn’t get a response. “Believe me or don’t, but Spot ain’t got what it takes to lead this place. Brooklyn is always led by a girl – did you know that?”
“I heard it was also always led by someone who ain’t been in the Refuge.” Mush points out. “Don’t see what any of this has ta do with me. I ain’t care who’s in charge, I’s just trying to make enough to pay for room and board.”
Mack sneers at him. “Like it or not you’se part of this kid, became part of it when Spot picked you up off the street last year. He’s gonna approach you with this.”
“And you want me to spy for you?” Mush guesses, and Mack rolls her eyes.
“Nah, we ain’t earned that sort of loyalty from you. No one here has. We just want ya to say no. Keep out of it like you has been.” There’s the air of a threat in her words, but Mush honestly isn’t sure what it is.
“Why should I? Maybe I don’t like how Stray’s been running things.” He points out, just because he can. If Mack thought she could physically intimidate him into doing what she wanted she would have – he has the power in this situation.
Or at least he thought he did, but Mack’s smile is cruel and confident. “Because if ya don’t, something unfortunate might happen to that pathetic little Manhattan boy you’se picked up as a little pet. Would be too bad, but everyone knows the risks of crossing onto other turf to sell, after all.”
Something in Mush goes cold. “He ain’t selling, he’s running errands for his ma. That ain’t any concern of yours.”
“Not for now.” Mack replies cheerfully. “Nice talkin’ to ya Mush, we should do this more often.” And with that she takes her leave.
Mush remains rooted in place for at least another ten minutes, mind whirling and stomach twisted over itself. He swallows hard, and then finally pries his feet off the ground and begins the slow walk back to the Boarding House.
He’s stopped yet again a few steps from the door, but this time he’s greeted by a much more welcome face when he turns to face the person.
“Hey, you alright Mush?” Annie Cohen asks, obvious concern lacing her voice. “Ya look like you’se seen a ghost.”
Mush studies Annie for a moment. She’s completely unaware of the coup, at least as far as he can tell, and she’s never been shy about calling out when she finds Stray and Mack’s leadership concerning. On top of that she’s the one person other than Spot he’d really consider a friend here in Brooklyn, and God knows he needs a friend right now.
“Can we talk, actually?” He blurts, and she raises an eyebrow but inclines her head.
“Sure. Deli work?” She asks, and he nods.
He pays – it’s technically her turn, but he’s the one who asked her out of nowhere to come out here.
“So. Something has you spooked.” She notes when he fumbles on how to start the conversation.
He groans. “You heard about the coup they’s planning?” He asks, and Annie shrugs.
“Whispers here and there. Spot was always pretty sore he got stiffed as second for Mack, so it ain’t too surprising. ‘Specially since Stray really ought’ve stepped down already.” She frowns. “I knows you’se friendly with him – he pressuring you about that?”
“Mack threatened me to keep out of it, actually.” He replies honestly, and Annie frowns, brow furrowing.
“Mack…?” She lapses into thought. “She ain’t the threatening type. They’s scared of you.” She says slowly. “That… yeah, I’d say keep out of it then.”
He grimaces. “Right. So what do I do then? I keep out of it – what happens next?”
Annie shrugs. “I wasn’t around yet for Stray’s coup, but I know Spot was. I know it was bad – real bad. Ya wanna know how Brooklyn got the reputation of being the scariest borough?”
Mush tilts his head. “Always assumed it was all the Refuge Rats.” He responds honestly, carefully, and Annie hums.
“Partly, yeah.” She agrees. “But also partly because we don’t have peaceful power transfers very often. We’s the only borough with a formal system of leadership, but it don’t work so well in practice. The people in charge is usually the ones willing to do whatever it takes to be in charge, and it ain’t usually a Refuge Rat.”
Mush frowns down at his sandwich – he hadn’t been very hungry before, but now he’s definitely not going to be finishing it. He sighs and pushes it away.
“Real swell place ya got here.” He grumbles, and Annie shrugs.
“It’s a living.” She replies. “Be like me, sell at the borders, get back late, and leave early – keeps ya out of the messiest parts of this life.”
“That’s sort of sad.” Mush says, and Annie shrugs.
“It’s a living.” She replies. “Once I’s saved up enough I’m gonna learn to write and I’s gonna be a secretary for some real rich guy. Then I’ll seduce him and get to be a trophy wife without any cares in the world. Until then,” She gives him a tired grin, “Just gotta do what I can do ta survive.”
Mush raises an eyebrow at her. “…Still sad. Why not sell in a different borough?”
Annie shrugs. “Brooklyn’s closest, and besides, you’se seen how Queens is about girls – nowhere else is really safe for me. I ain’t know how ta fight properly so I’d be ripped apart anywhere else. It’s a mess here, but it’s at least safe to be myself.”
Mush had never considered that. “So… girls can’t sell anywhere but Brooklyn? I didn’t know.”
“You ain’t know much about Newsies in general.” Annie points out with a faint smile. “But nah, girls sell in a couple other boroughs, they’s just tougher ‘n me, or they’s crossdressing. I ain’t a fighter, I’s a girl, and I ain’t ashamed o’ that.”
Mush can’t say he fully understands that – he probably can’t considering he’s not a girl – but Annie seems quite confident in her declarations so he doesn’t question them.
“Does anyone ever leave Brooklyn?” He asks instead after a moment, and Annie shakes her head.
“Not that I know. What, you gonna run away from Mack?” She raises an eyebrow as she takes a bite out of her sandwich. “She ain’t that scary, and this’ll all be done sooner or later – just wait it out.”
Mush just shrugs again and they change the topic, though when they return to the Boarding House he’s aware of Annie’s worried gaze following him up the stairs.
The next few days are hazy – he keeps his head down, nervously watching his back any time he interacts with Spot, and lingers around the bridge, keeping an eye out for a gangly brunette in bright blue who isn’t due to arrive for some days yet.
Friday morning he’s bumped by one of Spot’s other conspirators, and he barely hears a “tonight” hissed under the other boy’s breath before he’s gone again, leaving Mush to finish washing up with a pit in his stomach.
The sandwich that he’d stowed from last night is gone – big surprise – so he opts to skip breakfast entirely to get to the gates early.
Stray, Mack, Spot, and Annie are all already present, the last of whom looks vaguely annoyed by the tension between the other three.
Mush awkwardly sidles over to her, and she gives him a long-suffering look that eases some of his tension.
The silence remains through the other Newsies arriving and through circulation as well. Mush can tell that their distributor has picked up on the atmosphere as he closes up and bails quite quickly after handing out the last stack of papers.
“Wanna sell together?” Annie asks, but Spot answers for Mush when he waves the other boy over.
Mush gives Annie a shrug and heads to his other friend, only to find that she’s following him, a frown marring her features.
Spot glares at her. “Get lost Cohen.” He snaps, but she crosses her arms stubbornly.
“Make me Conlon.” She replies flatly. “You’se messing with my friend and I’s part of this borough too.”
“You sure ain’t act like you is.” Spot grumbles to himself, and Annie either doesn’t hear or chooses not to react – knowing her it could be either.
The three of them end up heading towards Annie’s usual selling spot anyway, though whether that was always the plan or her presence altered their course Mush doesn’t know and he doesn’t ask. Instead he keeps his eyes peeled for anyone following them – if any of Mack or Stray’s group see him with Spot, JoJo will be in danger.
They seem to make it to the Queens border without being spotted, but Mush doesn’t let his guard down, keeping an eye on the alley entrance as the three of them settle in to talk.
“Seriously Cohen, this has nothing to do with you.” Spot tries again, though he quickly gives up on seeing Annie’s expression. “Fine, your funeral. You’se the one always trying to keep out of borough politics.”
Annie hums. “Ain’t ever concerned me before.” She replies after a moment. “This one might. You dragging Mush into all this?”
Spot scoffs. “Mush’s been in from the start. And we’s moving tonight.” He adds to Mush, who gives him a distracted nod, still watching the entrance.
Annie rolls her eyes. “I’ll keep watch. You two talk.” She tells Mush, slipping away to the alley entrance and standing guard, hawking her papers as she does to dissuade suspicion.
“You tell her anything?” Spot demands immediately, voice low and annoyed.
“Mack threatened me to stay out of it yesterday.” Mush replies, just a quiet, teeth gritted. “Couldn’t exactly talk to any of you afterwards and I happened to bump into her. Didn’t say anything specific.”
Spot grimaces. “Whatever, Annie ain’t political, she’ll keep her head down.” He decides after a moment. “We’s ousting Stray tonight. Gonna call up a vote and I’s gonna put a challenge. Probably she’ll want to fight instead of letting the fellas decide, since we both know who would win.”
“So it’s just you against her?” Mush frowns. “Why all the fuss then? Just challenge her.”
“Because I had to make sure I’d win the vote to force the fight.” Spot explains grimly. “Plus it ain’t a fair fight. Supposed to be, but it’s more of a rumble, and most of the older Refuge kids’ll be with her. I needed to be sure our team was solid. And her crew ain’t afraid to be lethal.”
Mush narrows his eyes. “I ain’t killing anyone.”
“We don’t want to, but if it’s you or them…” Spot shrugs instead of verbally finishing the thought.
Mush grimaces. “You ain’t explain any of this before.” He says. “I ain’t agreed to it.”
“You knew we’d have to fight, you knew they was underhanded and vicious. You chose not to put the pieces together.” Spot fires back, eyes narrowed. “Don’t chicken on us now.”
Mush eyes him. “You can’t win without me, can you?” He asks slowly, and Spot grimaces but doesn’t deny it. Mush gives him credit for that.
“Fine.” He says after a long moment of thought. “I’ll be there. But if things go South I’m out. I ain’t signing any death warrants and I ain’t sticking around to see you do it either.”
Spot grimaces but nods. “Fine, fair enough. Just be ready to go and follow my lead tonight, yeah?”
Mush spends the rest of the day selling with Annie and growing increasingly worried as the sun vanishes and he and his friend head back for the Boarding House.
“You good?” She checks when they’re still a few blocks away, and he nods.
“I’ll be fine. You keep your head down, yeah?” He tells her, and she grimaces.
“Yeah. Don’t get killed.”
They walk into the Boarding House together, and a few of the guys make lewd motions in their direction, which cause Mush to blush even as he and Annie ignore them. The guys always make comments about their friendship, and while Mush would definitely say yes if Annie were interested, she’s never given any indication that she is and he doesn’t want to lose one of his two relationships over something as pointless as a crush.
Still, he does wish he could take her hand for support as they step into the main lobby and are immediately stopped by the wall of kids surrounding Spot and Stray, who are locked in a staring contest.
“Your call, Helen.” Spot says calmly, rolling Stray’s real name lazily over his tongue – a clear sign of disrespect amongst Newsies. “Do you wanna do this the easy way, or is we going to have to prove to you that you’se too old to be a Newsie no more?”
“You ain’t the second Spot.” Mack hisses. She’s standing near the front of the circle, but even she doesn’t dare step out between the two combatants at its center.
Spot sneers at her. “Yeah, ‘cause I’s got a backbone, unlike you.” He replies sharply. “Keep outta this, you ain’t got any real power here.”
Mack grits her teeth and takes a half-step forward, but one of Stray’s other friends tugs her back.
“Let it go, you’ll get ‘im later.” Mush is close enough to the two to hear the boy whisper ot Mack, and she huffs but stands down.
Right, they’re just as ready for a fight – the stare down is all performative. Mush had figured as much, but he’s not thrilled to be right.
The posturing continues for another five minutes before Stray finally names a time and place for a physical challenge.
“Eleven o’clock tonight. By the bridge.” She says, and Mush frowns.
It’s an odd place for a fight – not much shelter means that if the bulls show up it will be hard to get clear. Mush wonders if that’s by design, though it’s a stupid risk in his opinion – Stray will have just as little cover as Spot, meaning there’s no real benefit for her to choose that location.
Unless she’d set up the area ahead of time.
A quick glance shared with Spot over Stray’s shoulder indicates that he’s aware of this as well, but with eleven o’clock coming up fast they won’t have any time to check things out and try and even the playing field.
Despite this, Spot spits on his hand and holds it out. “I accept the challenge.” He declares, and Stray completes the spit-shake.
Mush glances around the room and sees his own apprehension is in the minority of reactions – in fact, most of the Brooklyn Newises look excited by the prospect of a brawl, and Mush has no doubt that more people than just Spot and Stray’s respective groups are going to show up tonight.
He exhales slowly. Well. This is it, he supposes – after tonight things are going to be different, one way or another.
Spot holds a meeting in the lobby office once everyone has scattered back to their rooms, and the atmosphere is one of determination.
“They have something planned,” Spot says, “But we’s got a better crew. Keep an eye out and keep watch of each other.”
“There will be folks not directly involved coming to watch.” Mush points out. “Anything we could do to curb that? Especially the littles – that area ain’t safe.”
Spot frowns. “Good point – anyone know someone who’d be willing to stay and keep watch over ‘em? Just because we ain’t got the Refuge here don’t mean the bulls ain’t gonna crack heads.”
There’s uncertain mumbling, and then Mush has an idea, though he’s not sure it would work.
“I might know someone. Just gotta ask.” He offers, and Spot nods to him.
“I’ll go with ya – we’ll ask once we have a game plan for this.”
That takes about fifteen minutes, at which point they’re getting close to when they need to leave if they don’t want to be late to their own challenge.
Most of the group heads out while Mush and Spot head up the stairs.
“You was thinking about Annie, yeah?” Spot checks, and Mush hums.
“Thinking about me for what?” Annie asks suspiciously, and both boys jump. She’s waiting at the top of the stairs, just out of sight, and she steps forward so she can address the two directly. “I ain’t fighting.”
“Ain’t gonna ask you to, Twig.” Spot fires back, giving Annie a pointed once-over with his eyes. “We need ya to keep the littles safe here – they’s gonna try and sneak out to watch but the bridge ain’t a safe area even without the fighting, and especially at night.”
Annie raises an eyebrow, but nods all the same. “I agree. I’ll watch ‘em. Try not to get killed, yeah?” She adds, and Spot grins.
“Didn’t know you cared, Cohen.”
“I was talking to Mush, Conlon.” She replies airily and Spot laughs.
It’s the last moment of levity Mush gets before he and Spot are heading out, waving to a clearly concerned Annie as they go, and the crushing weight of worry as the reality of his situation slams back into Mush all at once.
“This goes bad I’m out.” Mush reminds Spot lowly as they approach the chosen location, where most of the two groups are already gathered.
His friend grimaces. “Yeah, I got it.” He hisses back. “Quiet up and stay back – Stray don’t know you’se with us and I think it best we keep it that way for now.”
Mush is more than happy to do so, and he slows and stops in the shadows a few meters from the two groups while Spot strides forward, exuding a confidence that Mush wishes he had as well.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting. I had to make sure things were alright at the Boarding House.” His grin is unapologetic, with an edge of challenge to it – it’s the leader’s job to keep the peace at the Boarding House, after all.
Stray sneers at him. “Afraid ta let them watch you fail?”
“I ain’t want ‘em to get snagged by the Bulls. My guys all know the risks and they’s here – ain’t fair to make people take those risks if they don’t know ‘em.” Spot returns coolly, and Mush is honestly impressed. He of course had believed Spot would make a perfectly decent leader, or he wouldn’t have agreed to support his coup in the first place, but in one sentence the older boy has perfectly laid out why he’d be better than Stray. Where she wanted to flaunt her own power, Spot was worried about keeping the kids safe, like a leader should.
Mush settles in to watch as Mack steps between the two challengers and the rest of the group spread out to surround them in a loosely formed circle. An uneasy feeling creeps through his guts at the sight – he’s seen showdowns like this in the Refuge before, and he doesn’t love the reminder almost a year after getting out. The entire point of going to Brooklyn was to avoid the Refuge, after all, and yet in moments like this (in a lot of moments, actually) he feels like he never left.
The duel starts clean enough, but it takes less than five minutes for one of Stray’s people to slip her a weapon, and from there it’s an all-out brawl.
Mush waits until the fight is going strong before he slips in, hoping to remain mostly unnoticed. He knows that if anyone from Stray’s team recognizes him it will put JoJo in danger, and he wants to minimize that risk as much as possible.
He strikes quick but soft, mostly stunning opponents in order to give Spot’s crew openings to finish the fights and then sinking back out of sight. He stays fully away from where Stray, Mack, and Spot are caught up in a 2-v-1 face down, though he does keep himself aware of that battle in case his friend starts losing ground. For now, Spot is holding his own remarkably well.
That changes about five minutes later.
Spot successfully knocks Mack back, clearly aiming to even the playing field, but in focusing, even briefly, on her he turns his back towards Stray.
Mush sees the knife and is halfway across the fight before he’s had a chance to think through anything. He grabs Stray’s hand out of the air and twists, aiming to make her drop the knife and stumble back.
She does both – but unnoticed by any of them they’d been right up against the edge of the waterfront, and Stray goes over the edge and down to the thin line of concrete below, hitting with a sickening thud before sliding into the pitch black water.
Spot leans over the edge, eyes wide, the dropped knife in his hands. No one else has noticed, and he glances at Mush before gesturing towards the back roads.
“Go. I’ll handle this.” He says, and Mush doesn’t hesitate – he runs.
He’s not even sure where he’s going, but he eventually ends up back at the Boarding House after taking several twists and ducking through a number of alleys. He doesn’t go inside, instead creeping around the back and collapsing against one of the walls, sliding down until he can pull his knees up to his chest.
He’d killed someone. He’d killed someone, and it wasn’t on purpose and she was going to kill Spot but…
He doesn’t feel proud, despite having won them the fight. He just feels sick, and like the world has twisted on its axis and now everything is off-kilter just enough to make him woozy.
Thankfully the Boarding House is silent, so nobody witnesses his breakdown, but he does eventually hear the muted sounds of people returning, and he doesn’t want to be seen.
So he leaves, unsure of where he’s going but unable to stay in a place that feels tainted by what he’s done. It’s sunrise when he finds himself back at the bridge, staring down at the water, and he hesitates at the edge before stepping onto the bridge itself for the first time in a year.
Once he’s made the step it’s easy, and he’s in Lower Manhattan thirty minutes later, having kept up a quick pace the entire way across.
He spots a young boy hawking the day’s paper not too far away, struggling somewhat to speak through what appears to be a recently broken nose. Mush makes a beeline for him and the kid flinches back slightly on seeing his clothes, but quickly squares up.
“I got no beef with Brooklyn.” He spits, clearly trying to appear tough but failing due to the unavoidably nasal delivery of the declaration.
Mush holds up his hands placatingly, trying to ignore the fact that they’re shaking slightly. “Ain’t repping Brooklyn. You’se know where JoJo usually sells?” He asks.
The kid eyes him warily. “JoJo ain’t got no beef with Brooklyn neither.” He finally says. “What’d you want from him?”
“Just ta talk. You can tell ‘im Mush is looking for him, he’ll know who I is. I can just wait here.”
The boy glares at him for a bit longer before shrugging. “He’s mentioned ya I guess. He sells down by Battery Park – ya can’t miss him, he’s staked out that area pretty well. Ain’t no other Newsies there or nothing.”
Mush thanks the kid who just rolls his eyes and goes back to hawking.
The walk to Battery Park takes longer than it should since Mush doesn’t actually know where it is, but he eventually finds the place and almost as quickly locates his friend.
JoJo is standing on top of a bench near the entrance of the park, paper hoisted high above his head and free hand cupped around his mouth to help the sound travel father.
“Extra, extra! Submarine finally doesn’t sink! You heard it right here, we’ve got boats that can drive underwater now fellas! Don’t miss out on being the first in the know!”
Mush smiles slightly and can’t help watching – it’s clear that JoJo knows what he’s doing. His tactic definitely isn’t how Mush would sell that headline, but the well-dressed men that are rushing by almost all slow at JoJo’s call, and several pause to purchase the paper.
Once the group has moved on and JoJo has hopped off the bench to locate a new spot, Mush walks over, waving awkwardly.
JoJo looks startled at first to see him, but then gives him a broad smile.
“Mush? What’re you doing on this side of the bridge? Everything alright in Brooklyn?” He greets brightly, and Mush pushes down the urge to shudder at the name of his borough.
“Actually, I know I said it wouldn’t be for a while, but did ya happen to asks Boots about me maybe selling over here?” He asks, and JoJo blinks.
“Yeah actually, when I got back last week. Something happen?” He asks.
Mush doesn’t want to talk about it – JoJo is his safe spot, and he doesn’t want to tarnish it. “Nah, just need a change of scenery is all. Brooklyn is stifling. Besides,” He adds, giving his friend a bit of truth so he won’t push, “They’s too much like the Refuge over there. I’s trying to drop my Refuge Habits, not reinforce ‘em.”
JoJo beams at him. “Well you’se come at a good time – Morris’s little brother just started as another enforcer, broke Tommy Boy’s nose yesterday as an introduction. We could use someone with a little more intimidation factor.”
And just like that, Mush is a Lower Manhattan Newsie. He never looks back.