Just Come Back To Me

Started a long while ago, finished today, finally. First newsies fic, hopefully not the last –as a couple more are sitting in my incomplete folder. Recognizable characters aren't mine, and enjoy!

The sound of his window gently closing is what ultimately wakes him up. Despite the chill in the air, and the lingering cough he has from the week he spent ill, it's just that soft sound that brings him blearily back to awareness. "Jack?" He mumbles, bringing an arm up to rub his eyes. Because, really, only Jack would be breaking into his room this early.

No answer comes. And David thinks that is decidedly disconcerting. Silent darkness is all that greets him as his eyes adjust to the light. Nothing.

"Jack?" Nothing. "Jack, come on. This isn't funny."

He climbs out of bed, tripping over a haphazardly discarded shoe on his way to the lamp on the other side of the room. The light is comparatively blinding as opposed to the total darkness he'd been in before and he abruptly flicks it back off upon realizing that there is, in fact, no one else present in the room.

But, there is something unfamiliar. And by unfamiliar, he means 'something that does not belong here without the someone usually associated with it'.

That something is a rather worn, haggard looking red bandana, which is currently taking up residence on his wrist, where it has been securely knotted.

He fingers the soft material for a moment before he realizes what this gesture means. His eyes dart, wide and desperate, back to the window, where he hopes, prays Jack is still lingering.

"No, please, no."

The streets outside are vacant, no one sane is out and about right now. It's cold, too, and the thin pajama's he's wearing are not exactly conductive to warmth. David did have the forethought to put his shoes on quickly, but that isn't helping much.

To top off the cold, he has no idea where Jack is. If he's even in town anymore. He could be well on his way to the train yards by now, maybe even on one bound for the inevitable Santa Fe. But, he is determined to make sure of that.

He hears a noise from an alley somewhere between his home and the news boy's lodging house. His hopes soar, but when he investigates, he finds it's just a stray cat that knocked over a trash can. The feline watches him with an odd sort of fascination for a moment, obviously gauging his threat, and then it takes off upon hearing a noise that originates from somewhere just behind David.

Since, as previously thought, no one –sane- is out and about this early, any other presence behind him is probably not a good thing. David tenses, mentally rethinking this decision, and slowly turns around. The tension leaves his body as quickly as it arose when he spots a familiar figure. Jack.

"Whaddya doin' out here, Davey?" Jack asks, eyes moving constantly from David to his wrist to the ground, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "'S cold."

"What's this about?" David raises his arm, making it clear exactly what he's talking about.

Jack shrugs like it's nothing. Like it doesn't mean he's leaving. "Thought ya'd wanna hold on to it for me, is all."

David's hand clamps onto his best friend's arm. "You're going, aren't you? To Santa Fe?"

"Yeah, so maybe I am." Jack shrugs as if he's asking about the weather or something and not a life-altering decision. He kicks at an imaginary snowball with his shoe, revealing the cold concrete beneath. "Somethin' wrong with that?"

"You were just going to leave?" The shorter boy growls, hands fisting in Jack's shirt, shoving him back against the brick wall. "Without talking to me? Without telling me?" He gives Jack another shove for good measure, because he's mad, hurt, that Jack could do that to him. David crosses his arms over his chest and fixes his best friend with a glare.

Jack doesn't fight against anything David does. He just takes it all because he knows he deserves it for what he's going to do. "You wasn't supposed to know I was here, Davey. Makes leavin' too hard."

"Don't leave then, Jack, you have so much to stay for."

He's unprepared for the gentle tone in David's voice. Anger, he expected. But this is…David's pleading, almost, with him to stay. And Jack wants to. "Like, what?" But, he can't.

David stutters and mumbles for a moment before answering. "Well, uh. The newsies need ya, Jack. And, and my sister..."

"Sarah deserves better, Davey. You know that. You, too." Jack shakes his head. If he did stay, it wouldn't be for Sarah. But, he's already convinced himself of leaving, already told the newsies what's going on, already tied the bandana to David's wrist. "I'm gonna come back, alright?" He grabs for the red material. "An' I'll want this back when I see ya again."

Jack takes a step away from him. And another, and soon he's out of sight. David just stands there, frozen in shock as he stares at the empty alley. His whole world has just walked away.

Two weeks pass and David is still reeling from the sudden disappearance of his best friend. Jack had become such a prominent fixture in his life that his absence is a startling contrast. He's been spending most of his time with the newsies, as he has evidently been crowned their leader in Jack's place. He's not sure if that's because the band on his arm is marking him as Jack's second in command, or because they think he deserves it after leading in Jack's previous absence. It's weird and unfamiliar all the same.

Two weeks and two days after Jack leaves, his father announces that he's gotten his job back, and that David and Les will be returning to school the following day. David takes that hard and spends the night at the lodging house. Informs the others that he won't be around as much anymore, only in the afternoons, and they accept that.

He reluctantly goes home so he can change and gather the books that have done nothing but compile dust since his father's injury and starts the familiar walk to the school, hoping that certain people who'd previously made his life hell had forgotten about him in his time away.

"Looks like Davey's back from slumming it with the newsies."

Nope. He's only been at school for maybe ten minutes and already it's starting again. The endless torture, the teasing and bullying. One of the reasons he hadn't protested at all at helping out his family. One of the reasons, on top of Jack and all the others, that he hadn't wanted to come back. Charles Flynn.

David just puts his head down, walks through the hallway without acknowledging the taller boy. It's worked in the past.

"He's talking to you, newsie." Charlie's right hand man, Henry Rogers, says, giving him a shove.

He keeps his balance, dodges another shove.

"Whatsamatter, Davey?" Charlie mocks, eyes dancing with the oncoming displays of ridicule he plans to exhibit.

"Don't call me that." David mutters, for Davey is a name he now associates with Jack. And only Jack. Anyone else using it just sounds… wrong.

"What was that, Davey?" Fantastic, he thinks, he should have just kept his mouth shut. There is one small victory, however, in that he is in more advanced classes than the boys who pick on him – which is perhaps yet another reason why they do so – and he can now slip into the classroom without risk of them following.

"We'll be seeing you later."

David ducks into the classroom and takes his seat, hoping he can sneak away from them once the final bell rings.

After school, he meets the newsies in the square. Racetrack, Mush, and Blink are there, and Les, who was trailing just behind him, runs off to sword fight with Boots. They all turn to stare at David once Racetrack points out something odd about their new leader.

"How'd ya get that shiner?" Blink inquires, as the trio move closer.

David shakes his head. "It's nothing."

"That don't look like nothin', does it, Mush?" He tries to touch the bruise, but David swats his hand away.

"Just some kids at school giving me a hard time. I can deal with it." He promises, even though his way of dealing with it involves pretending it does not exist. "Like I said, it's nothing."

Mush and Blink share a look, and they both sigh. "Whateva you say, Davey."

David cringes.

The next day at school, after explaining to his parents that, yeah, the black eye is no big deal, he just slipped, and, no, Charles Flynn is not bothering him, he arrives just seconds before the first bell rings and manages to slip into class without running into any abusive thugs.

After school, however, he is not so lucky.

Charles and Henry are waiting for him. "Missed you this morning, Davey."

He keeps walking, but he can tell that's not going to cut it today. "Leave me alone." He growls, as if that will somehow work.

"Or what?"

David doesn't really have anything to say to that.

Henry is circling behind him and he feels him grab at his wrist. "What's that raggedy thing? That your pass into newsie country or something?"

"That's… nothing." David forces the words out of his mouth. That bandana is everything.

"Then you don't mind if we take it, right? You're too good for something that mange ridden, aren't you, Davey?" Charles can tell he's hit a sore subject. And he won't be letting it go anytime soon.

Henry's nose crinkles. "Thing smells like it's been in the garbage. Probably has fleas."

"Get off." David tries to shake out of Henry's grip, but the other boy is stronger than he is. He pictures nailing Snyder in the face with his boots and can't help but smile at that, despite his predicament. He kind of wishes Jack would show up and soak them like he did with the Delancy brothers.

"Hey!" Someone shouts, and for a second, just for one fleeting second, David thinks his wish came true. But, it's just Spot Conlon, not Jack. Racetrack is with him, and clearly the newsie informed the Brooklyn leader of David's school troubles. "I'd let him go, if I was you."

Charles looks less than amused at the disruption. After all, who would be afraid of a short, lousy street kid? He nods for Henry to disregard the orders and takes off after the shrimp himself. "Well, I'm not you, am I?"

Spot grins, because clearly these hoity-toity school bullies don't know that you never, ever mess with Brooklyn. "A shame." He whistles, and several Brooklyn newsies appear, as well as Blink and Mush and Skittery and more. Spot steps up beside David, and his eyes practically dare Henry to keep holding on.

He doesn't, and in fact trips as he scrambles back to Charles' side. "What now?"

"Run?" Spot supplies with a smirk as the newsies advance.

The two take off, and Mush and Blink give chase to make sure they're suitably warned away from David.

"Ya cowards!" Spot shouts, smug smile still in place as he turns to David. "I don't think they'll be messin' with ya again."

"Thanks." David answers, a smile of his own appearing. He's pretty sure it's the first time he's smiled since Jack disappeared. "Why are you helping me, though?"

Spot shrugs. "Jackie Boy asked me to look out for ya while he's away." He spits in the direction the bullies ran off in.

"You seen him since he left?"

"Nah," Spot shakes his head. "Just the night he took off."

David kicks at nonexistent dirt on the concrete path. "He say anything else to you?"

"Sorry, kid."

His parents are at the door when he arrives. That is not a good thing. "David." He looks up, and his mother can only stare at his bruised eye. "We got a call from the school today. It seems you and some of your friends were seen fighting on school property."

"Some of the newsies showed up when Flynn went after me." David explains. "It won't happen again." He promises, and he hopes he's right.

That night, sitting alone in his room, he decides he's going to write Jack a letter. He can't send it, because he has no way of finding Jack in Santa Fe, but he can write it. He sits at his desk and scribbles out line after line about the newsies and school and how much he misses Jack. And then he crumbles it up and throws it away.

"What am I doing?" He asks himself, shaking his head. He flicks out his light and clambers into bed with a despondent sigh.

Ten minutes later, he gets up and unfolds the letter again, smoothing it out until it's something resembling flat again. Then he holds it up and hides it in his dresser drawer.

Four months after Jack leaves, David has a stack of letters in his dresser, tied together and crumpled up. He always tries to throw them away after he writes them, but inevitably, they join the pile. Eventually he goes from telling Jack about events and issues with his family and the newsies and school, to how much he misses Jack, how he just wants to see him again. Eventually inklings of 'love' and 'do anything for you' start making their way into the text. He's all but given up hope by now that Jack is coming back at all, but he still keeps writing and he still keeps the bandana tied around his wrist.

One Sunday morning, he's still half asleep when he feels someone sit on the edge of his bed and work at the knot on the raggedy old bandana tied around his wrist.

For a second, in his semi-conscious state, he thinks Jack is back, and is simply reclaiming it. As soon as that thought processes, he sits bolt upright.

"Jack!?"

But, it's not Jack Kelly, back from Santa Fe. It's his mother, and he could not have been more devastated by such a fact. He pulls his wrist away.

"Mom, what're you doing?" He demands, suddenly very awake, as he guards the bandana for all he's worth.

"David, dear," His mother sighs in dismay at getting caught. "I really wish you'd just let me throw that old thing out."

He shakes his head and as stubbornly refuses to answer her after that – she knows what it means, what it represents for him, she has to know he can't go throwing it out like garbage. Once she leaves the room he changes as quickly as he can and takes his leave through the window like Jack always did. At least the newsies don't pester him about the bandana.

Six months, two weeks and three days after Jack leaves, David comes home late from hanging out with the newsies.

Much to his surprise, he finds his window wide open – odd, since he'd made sure to close it when he'd left that morning. The lights are on, too, which shouldn't be the case at this hour, so he is understandably hesitant when he climbs up the steps of the fire escape.

Even more surprisingly, he finds someone sleeping in his bed.

"Jack?" He whispers, not daring to get his hopes up again, not after all of the moments, the maybes that lead to inevitable let-downs, that have plagued him since Jack left.

The sleeping figure grumbles and rolls over onto his back. All the answer David needs.

"Jack!" He says again, loud as he dares when everyone else in the house has to be asleep. "Jack, you're back…"

"Mm, quiet, Davey. Tryin' ta sleep here." An arm reaches out though and David grabs hold, pulling Jack up to him in a bone crushing hug. Jack laughs and hugs back, "Missed ya, too, Dave."

He takes in Jack in the silence that follows that statement. His best friend is tanner, more muscular; looks like more than six months have passed for him. Still looks sure and confident with every move he makes, even more so now.

"How was Sante Fe?" Is David's first question, the unasked part being 'are you going back?'

"I'll let ya decide for yourself." Jack grins. "I want ya ta come back with me."

David's ecstatic for a moment – thinking of travelling back to New Mexico with Jack and the two of them working together on some ranch as opposed to selling papers in the cold New York streets, Jack showing him the sights - before he realizes that Jack isn't talking about a quick trip to Santa Fe. "I… I can't, Jack. I have my parents and Sarah and Les…"

But, Jack stops him before he can start in on duties and responsibilities. "I got my own place, Dave. A ranch all my own, plenty'a land and enough dough for ya to send some back ta your folks. We can visit, they can visit, but, Dave, ya gotta come back with me. Whataya say?"

He thinks about how distant he's been with his family, with everyone, ever since Jack left. God, he wants to go. "I… I dunno."

"I read your letters." Jack says, and motions to the pile of crumbled papers sitting on top of David's dresser. "Not that I was snoopin' or anything. I was just lookin' for…" He motions to David's wrist. "I wasn' sure ya'd still be wearin' it."

David grins, and works at the tie on the thing – hard to undo after six months. "Never took it off." He says, and offers it back to Jack. "So, the, ugh, the letters…?"

Jack is grinning his annoying all-knowing smirk, which tells David he knows exactly which parts of the letters David means. "Wouldn' be askin' ya ta come with me if I didn't feel the same, Davey."

"But, Sarah…?"

Jack shifts, eyes on David's lips. "I only kissed Sarah 'cause I didn' think I could have you."

And David should probably be kind of mad and insulted on his sister's behalf, but he can't actually bring himself to care when everything he's wanted for the last half a year is right in front of him, willing to take him away and willing to be in for everything he wants, too.

"Davey…"

He bridges the last few centimeters of space between them to press his lips against Jack's softly. It's only a short kiss, but it means exponentially more than anything David has ever felt. When they break apart – Jack's fingers tangle din David's curly hair, and David's hands on Jack's hips – they both grin like idiots, foreheads still pressed together.

"When do we leave?"