The Bridge

3

August 20th, 1899. 

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 "(Y/N), do you have to come with me? I'm going on a date!" Lila whined, her small hands grabbing the side of her sister's pants in order to stay with her in the busy streets. (Y/N) chuckled lightly and softly ruffled her sister's strawberry blonde locks.

"Just because you are going on a date doesn't mean I'm not responsible for you." She chided, guiding her sister along towards the park. Lila grumbled, but knew she was right; a little girl was never safe in new york city, especially if she was unsupervised. She needed (Y/N).

The two walked for a bit longer until they reached the entrance to the lush park where people gathered on nice days like this. It didn't take long for them to spot Davey and Les, and they jogged over.

(Y/N) greeted Davey with a wave, Lila greeted Les with a hug, and Les kissed Lila's hand like the gentleman he was.

And so the day began, for better or for worse.

___

"Bye Les! Bye Davey!" Lila shouted to the boys four feet in front of her. The two waved goodbye (Les more glum then his older counterpart due to his date ending), but it was already half past seven, and (Y/N) had work soon - so they didn't have time to stick around.

"See both of you around!" (Y/N) called as Davey shut the door to his house. Lila trotted up to her sister and grabbed her hand.

They walked for a while. It was around sunset, and the streets were darkening. Lila, being the ridiculous ten year old she was, skipped ahead of her sister now. She was in a cheery mood, but who wouldn't be - she was wearing her 'fancy' dress, had a great 'date', and now she was going to gush about it to Crutchie. Crutchie, the sweetheart he was, always listened to her and tried to be a good brother figure(most of the other newsies weren't. They stole, were rowdy, and overall bad influences.) (Y/N) appreciate his help, either way, role model or not.

Suddenly, (Y/N) jerked out of her thoughts at the sound of a screech. She looked ahead of her, only to see a shadowy figure yank Lila away and into an alleyway nearby. (Y/N)'s eyes widened, and she followed the figure at full speed into said alley as the screeching persisted.

"Lila!" (Y/N) yelled, running into the alley. Her heart was going a mile a minute - no, scratch that. A mile a second. - and her vision was already blurring with rage and worry.

"(Y/N)!" A shrill voice called, deeper into the alley. "Im over- mmph!"

Great.. She thought, following the echo of her sister's voice. She's muffled now.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) kept running until she reached the end of the alley - and Lila.

She had to fight

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(Y/N) trudged across the Brooklyn Bridge, making her way home from work. She rubbed her eye, which was sore with a black and blue.

She had managed to get Lila back, yes, but not without a fight. It was more then clear that the kidnapper didn't have good intentions, though, so (Y/N) was filled with rage and adrenaline. Either way, she had gotten beat up real bad - but she did kick the guy's ass.

Shortly afterwards, she dropped Lila off at the front door of the lodging house. She instructed her not to say anything regarding the man or the fight, because then the boys would worry. So, Lila obeyed - and made all the boys listen to her talk about her date.

"Back again?"

(Y/N) turned to see none other then the five foot four smartass, Spot Conlon.

"I don't know if you've caught on yet, but I kinda work here." She retorted, smirking. Spot laughed softly and took a step towards her. His eyebrows rose as he saw her bloody and bruised figure.

"Have you always looked like you got your ass kicked?" He inquired in a playful tone. (Y/N) rolled her eyes and playfully pushed him.

"Have you always looked like a duck prostitute?" She joked, causing Spot to laugh.

"Alright, lesson learned." He said, putting his arms up in mock surrender as (Y/N) strutted over to the edge of the bridge. She looked at the horizon, taking in the water below her.

"You're lucky." She blurted out as Spot came and stood next to her. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to go on.

"How so?" He asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question.

""Well, for starters, you get to see this," (Y/N) began, gesturing to the waterfront.

"And secondly, you have the authority to kick Jack's ass whenever you feel like it."

_____

Spot watched (Y/N)'s form fade into the distance as the sun started peeking through the horizon. She was fun to be around, for a Manhattan newsie. Although he could do without her, he didn't mind her. She kept him company on her way home from work, which he appreciated since he knew how early Jack made his newsies get up to carry the banner.

Yes, (Y/N) was alright, he decided. She could hold a conversation, and she wasn't too bad on the eyes either - at least, from what he had seen. In all honesty, he only ever saw her in dim street lights and moonlight - so it wasn't much to deduct a general complexion from her, but from what he saw she was alright.