Newsies Oneshots 2.0

The Case of the Manhattan Murders (Vivamus, Moriendum Est)-Jack and Davey

This is just Elmer's death from Davey and Jack's perspective. I know that it switches at the end of the chapter, but two people thought this would be a good idea. It works for me because I was rather unsure of which POV to write from.

Anyway, no matter how sad it is, I hope you enjoy it!

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"Are you sure about this?"

Davey glanced at his partner, sighing as he placed his wallet, cellphone, and keys into a bin. "We're already here, Jack. Let's just...Let's get through this."

"Get through this, my ass", Jack muttered, grabbing hold of the bucket making his rounds through the conveyor belt. He pulled his wallet and phone out of his pockets, lightly searching for his keys before remembering he'd given them to Katherine, and stepped out of his shoes before placing them into the bucket. "I feel like I'm in prison."

The dingy walls and overcompensating prison guards closed him into the walls faster than he'd like, and his skin crawled from the insects he imagined were crawling around the corners, dumbly making homes there. He felt he'd have to head home and shower at least seven times, and call his therapist to let her know he came close to having a panic attack. "This fucking sucks."

"Keep it moving", the guard pushed out grimly, his brows unmoving, as if they were stuck to his face. He looked like a statue, the creepy life-like ones that were in freaky paintings no one understood the meaning of, let alone Jack himself. Still he did as the guard said, even if only ten years ago, he would've done exactly the opposite.

Davey waited patiently, giggling quietly behind his hand as Jack struggled to put his shoes back onto his feet, and struggled even more to leave his cellphone and keys. "Show 'em your I.D."

"Explain to me why we came here again?" Jack sighed, opening his wallet. He showed his I.D. to the officer behind the clear glass, and accepted it back just as quickly. "Because I swear it's like we torture ourselves for our own fucking pleasure."

"Watch your mouth", Davey guided, pulling Jack by the arm of his shirt. He believed by acting pridefully he'd gain the confidence of a god, but he had to admit he was struggling with his own idea.

When he'd received the letter from the state prison, of which the contents relayed more legal matters than he'd care for, his first instinct was to tell Race. But he called Jack.

Jack had received the letter a couple days before, and had taken those days to process the entire idea of receiving an invitation to watch someone die. Naturally, he rejected the idea. Davey did, too.

But Racetrack Higgins, ever the sadist, convinced the both of them. It took more from Jack's side—he assumed he'd be watching someone's brain get fried out behind their eyes, until Davey explained to him that that was illegal, and he'd succumb to lethal injection. That was less traumatizing to think about, but Jack still wasn't keen. Davey persuaded him with fifty dollars and his boyfriend's triple chocolate layer cake. Unsure of when his little brother would bother to offer him cake again, Jack agreed, then dreamt about cake for the rest of the night.

Davey sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. His tie was too tight, and his long sleeve shirt left him feverish. Jack elbowed him softly. "What?"

"Open the door." Davey rolled his eyes, more than annoyed at Jack this morning--he'd woken up from a nightmare--and attempted to pull the door open, before pushing in. "It's okay, Dave. Plenty people can't read signs."

"Shut up, Jack."

The two men made their way to the group of chairs, bothered by how their shoes clacked against the wooden floors. Various kinds of bald men sat within the empty crowd, speaking to their wives, daughters, and no one in particular. The women beside them were dressed their best, wearing heels that anxiously tapped their legs and dresses only saved for church. There was even a child among them, one child, who nagged on and on about leaving. Davey wondered how cruel a parent had to be to make their child watch someone die, even if he'd killed someone they loved.