Newsies One Shots

If Only

April 12th, 1900
The day Katherine Pulitzer married Jack Kelly.

March 4th, 1902
The day Katherine Kelly began the affair.

August 28th, 1902
The day Jack Kelly fell ill.

March 31th, 1902

Jack Kelly sat on the couch in the apartment he lived in with his wife, Katherine. Who, at the moment, still wasn't home. And it was one a.m. She had called saying she was working late, and not to wait up. She had been 'working late' more often, and Jack was becoming suspicious. He trusted Katherine, yes, but he also was the overprotective, jealous husband most men were. The door opened, and Katherine stepped in, humming to herself. "Where ya been, Kath?" Her eyes widened. "Jack, I didn't know you were still up-" Jack cut her off. "Where ya been?"

"I-I was working," she managed. "Working. At one in the morning?" Jack tilted his head to one side. Then he caught a glimpse of a purple spot on Katherine's neck, almost hidden by her hair. Jack stepped forward and moved her hair out of the way before she could react. It was exactly as he thought; he knew what it was, and he sure hadn't done it. "How long?" His voice was barely above a whisper. Katherine now had tears slipping out of her eyes. "Since the fourth."
"Why?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Jack. But we can work this out-" Jack shook his head and headed down the hall to the bedroom. He returned ten minutes later with two suitcases. Katherine shook her head. "Jack. I'll go. Please, let me do this last thing for you." Jack nodded, and sat down on the couch. When his ex-wife returned in ten minutes, a suitcase in either hand. Jack stood up, and hugged Katherine one last time, giving her a peck on the lips. "I'll miss you."

Katherine wiped her eyes, and stepped out the door.

August 28th, 1902

Jack leaned against the doorway of Davey's kitchen, wiping his sweaty forehead. The guys were all having dinner there, and Jack had got then there early to help. The doorbell rang. "Jack, could you get that?" Jack nodded, and staggered down the hallway. He flung open the door to see Race and Flavi. Race grinned. "Hey, Jack!" Then it faded. "You look like shit." Jack rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks, Race." "You're welcome! But really, how ya doin? I'm sorry about you and Kath." Jack nodded. "I'm alright. How about you?" He shrugged. "Pretty good." "But seriously," Flavi chimed. "Jack, Race is right. You look awful." "I'm fine, mom." He grinned. "Davey's in the kitchen, I'm sure he could use your help."

The bell rang again, and Jack opened the door to see Albert and Bianca. "Hey, kids!" Jack smirked at the two. "What's new?" Bianca rolled her eyes. "Jack, I'm pretty sure when you get married, you can't be considered a kid anymore. Has anyone told you you look like shit?" Jack sighed, exasperated. "I'm fine! Geez, I don't need four mothers!"

"Jack, you're sweaty and pale. You are not fine." "Yes, I..." his eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed. "Race!" Bianca called. He stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Hey, sis! What's-" he noticed Jack. "Albert, help me get him to the couch. Flavi!" Flavi walked into the hallway. "What?"
"You and Bianca, run for the doctor."
Bianca tossed Flavi her jacket, which was hanging on the coat hanger, and the girls ran out the door.

The girls returned soon enough, with a doctor. He shooed them all out of the room, and began to look Jack over. He came out, looking solemn. "I'm afraid your friend has contracted typhoid fever." No one made a sound. "He'll need constant care, and even then he might not survive. Do what you can, and hope for the best. Try to break his fever." And with that, he left.

The weeks went on, and Jack only got worse. The group that had been there stayed to help take care of Jack, and they did all they could.

September 9th, 9:00 p.m., 1902

"Katherine," Jack murmured. "Katherine." Bianca stood. "We need to get Katherine. Now." She grabbed her jacket and ran out the door, hoping Katherine moved back in with her father. She climbed the fire escape, and rapped on the window. Katherine opened it. "Hi, Bianca." "No time for the palaver, Kath. Jack's sick, and he wants to see you. I think..." the girl's eyes filled with tears. "I think he's about to die." Katherine grabbed a coat from her floor and climbed down the fire escape. Bianca grabbed her wrist and ran full speed, pulling Katherine along.

They reached Davey's place, and Bianca pulled Katherine over to where Jack lay. "Katherine?" He mumbled. "Yeah, Jack, I'm here. And I'm sorry." Jack nodded slightly, breathing heavily. "I forgive you. I love you, Ace. Always have. Always will. See ya in Santa Fe, Ace."

September 9th, 9:32 p.m., 1902

The moment Jack Kelly took his final breath.

What even is this...
It ain't sad enough
But I tried
So screw it