Newsies One Shots

What's in a Name?

Prompt - None
Au - Trans Davey
Triggers - Unsafe binding, mildly implied internalised/external transphobia

This is very much me projecting onto my highest kin/comfort character. I'm trans and know what I'm writing about, don't come for me over the binding etc and please just be nice cause this is kinda ✨personal✨
(Not overly bit still)

This is also only loosely around canon events, most of the dialogue/actions are different but the setting is the same, the first scene after Carrying the Banner

•••

The boy was nervous. He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know how to sell newspapers, didn't know how to do any of what he was supposed to do today and yet he'd still jumped on the idea. Maybe it was because he knew it was necessary, that was it. He knew he needed to, needed to make some money to help keep his family going after his father had gotten hurt. He needed to, that's what he told himself. Him and his little brother, though the nine year old was significantly more excited about the prospect than he was.

Although there was another reason. Of course there was another reason. As the boy got up that first morning, trying to herd his brother and ignore the twisting, writhing in his gut, he pushed away the thoughts that swirled around in his head like a maelstrom of needles that stabbed him with no break, refusing to leave him alone. Hurting. Hurting a lot and making him wish he could shut them up. But he couldn't. He didn't know how.

He sighed, looking at the clothes he'd managed to scrounge. They weren't what he usually wore; a pair of long trousers and a white shirt and waistcoat, along with a matching cap. Despite his uncertainty's the sight of them made him smile a little. The shirt was too big around the shoulders, and the trousers too long, but that was ok. It wasn't too noticeable, the size, and besides, it helped hide the bandages wrapped tight around his chest. He took a deep breath, slightly restricted, and pulled his hair under the cap. As he surveyed himself in the small, cracked mirror, that smile grew, creeping across his face and turning into a wide grin.

Ok. He could do this. For once, he liked his appearance. It felt right, felt like he was looking at himself, not a stranger. That was good. If felt good. This was ok.

Slowly, he opened the door of the small bathroom. It creaked, the protest of the hinges familiar as the boy slipped out into the hall that led quickly into the kitchen. He steeled himself a little as he did, happy with his appearance but also oh so conscious of it. He knew his brother wouldn't care but his parents...well he was less sure of them. They never liked it when he dressed like this. Like he was supposed too. Like he knew he was supposed too.

His father was at the round table, cupping a chipped mug between his hands with his injured leg propped up on an upturned box. His mother was in their one armchair, trying to coax his little brother into eating something; the kid was never fond of breakfast, for whatever reason. The boy pulled out a chair, dropping into it and pouring himself some water. His father looked up and he swallowed. He willed him not to say anything, to just let him get some food and then go. But of course that didn't happen.

"Why are you dressed like a boy?"

The girl looked at her father, blinking a little as if his words stung. "It's...it'll be easier to sell like this," she said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

"Well, take your hair down from that hat at least. It doesn't look right like that,"

She nodded, her mouth dry despite the water. With a great reluctance, she took off the cap and pulled down her hair. It only hung to her shoulders but she still hated it down. It got in the way and didn't feel right brushing past her chin. She took another sip of the water just for something to do, looking at the table. She felt bad already. What a great start to the day.

"I'm still not even sure about you working," her father said. "It's no place for you, selling bloody newspapers,"

"Pa, I have too. We need the money, you know that. It's just till you get better," It was her place. It was. She knew that.

No.

He knew that.

"I know, I know but-,"

"I'll be fine, pa," The girl told him. She looked at her brother. "Trust me, ok? We'll both be fine. And we'd best get going,"

Her father still didn't look convinced, but he nodded slowly. "Alright but just...be careful ok?"

She nodded, getting to her feet. She hadn't eaten anything, her appetite gone. "I know pa. You ready bud?" She asked her little brother, holding out her hand to him.

The kid nodded, getting to his feet quickly. He was excited about the prospect of working for a while, happy they got to miss school. "Yep," he beamed, taking her hand. "Ready,"

She nodded and left the apartment quickly, her steps clicking rhythmically on the ground. Her brother chattered alongside her, letting go of her hand after a while, running ahead of her in the streets. They were already getting busy and she kept a close eye on him, not wanting the kid to get lost; that had happened before and it hadn't been a fun day. As they walked she tucked her hair under her hat again so it looked short.

When they got to the circulation gates she took her brothers hand again, keeping him close to her side. There were a few dozen boys hanging around, lined up haphazardly to get papers. The bunch were rowdy and rough around the edges, jostling each other with grins and teasing laughs. The girl stood in line and bought her papers, unconsciously mirroring what the boys around her were doing. She saw a few of them looking at her curiously, exchanging a few words with each other. One of them barged a dark haired boy with an arrogant looking smile in the ribs.

"Hey new kid," The dark haired boy said, almost swaggering over to her with a large stack of papers tucked under his arm.

"I'se new too!"

The dark haired boy chuckled at her brother as he peered up at him. "I'se can see that's," he said, kneeling by the kid. "How olds you kid?"

"I'se ten. Almost,"

"Well, if anyone asks, you's seven. Younger sells more papes see,"

The girl's brother nodded, beaming at the dark haired boy as he straightened, addressing her. "The names Jack Kelly," he said, looking genuinely friendly as he stuck out his hand.

The girl shook his hand, swallowing but smiling a little at him. "This is Les," she said, indicating her brother, who waved. Then she hesitated and took a breath.

Say it. It's no big deal. You know what your name is, so say it. You know who you are, so say it.

"My name's David," the boy said. He saw Les look up at him curiously, frowning a little and tugging on his hand, but somehow, mercifully he said nothing, though David knew the kid would ask questions later. That was ok though. He didn't mind that too much, he told himself.

Jack nodded and grinned. "It's nice ta' meet ya Davey," he said. He looked around. "We'se best get ta' sellin'. C'mon, I'sell show ya the ropes,"

David nodded, a smile creeping over his face as the other boys around them broke off into small groups, shouting out headlines and waving their papers in the air.

As he followed Jack's lead, keeping Les in his sight as they sold, a warmth crept through his chest. He couldn't explain exactly what it felt like but he couldn't stop smiling over it. It was the best feeling in the world, hearing himself say his name like that.

It meant everything to him.