All I've Got || A Broadway Newsies Fanfiction

"He's all I've got. I don't know what I'd do without him." The Delancey brothers never asked for help from anyone. (Runner up in the "Carve the Mark" Competition. Newsies belongs to Disney. Cover created by slytherinprincess16.)

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10. Fired

Oscar could see the look of absolute relief on Morris' face as the two of them entered the newspaper distribution center, and he couldn't help but smile. He knew Morris hated doing nothing. Racetrack and Specs walked on either side of them as they went up to Wiesel; they hadn't taken no for an answer when they told Oscar and Morris they'd be accompanying them that morning. Morris' smile faded a but and he gripped Oscar's hand tightly as Wiesel stared at the two brothers with narrowed eyes, swallowing back the lump in his throat and putting on a brave face.

"Where have to two been, hmm? Ya haven't come in for two days!" Wiesel barked. Morris flinched slightly, but Oscar remained firm, glaring at Wiesel with hard eyes. "That's none of ya business, sir. Personal issues. Now do ya want us ta work or not?" Oscar hissed. Wiesel let out a raspy laugh and shook his head, waving his hands in a shooing motion at the two boys and smirking when their eyes widened with fear. Race and Specs exchanged an uneasy glance and started to walk away; this wasn't their fight.

"What? You don' show up for work, 'n you expect me to keep you on? You must be crazy! Now beat it, before I get the police and have ya thrown in the refuge!" Wiesel said, his voice scathing. Morris was frozen, his eyes wide with fear, and he couldn't get his legs to move no matter how much he wanted to. Oscar tried to tug on his arm, and even Specs grabbed the back of his shirt and tried to drag him. Morris wouldn't move. He could feel his body beginning to tremble as Wiesel came out from behind the gate, but his brain wouldn't actually process his fear. He was confused, even a little blank minded, and he only too a step backwards when Wiesel pulled his familiar baton off of his belt, waving it at the older Delancey threateningly.

"I said beat it, ya worthless lump!" Wiesel roared for all to hear, his baton swinging and hitting the side of his head with a loud crack. Morris cried out and scrambled away, his limbs regaining feeling, and clutched his head. Memories of knives and grubby hands hitting him and his clothes being ripped from him flashed in his mind and he screamed, sprinting as fast as he could towards the gate. Oscar yelled something at him but he couldn't hear him. Everything was blurry and he stumbled about as he ran out of the distribution center, shoving past newsies that were entering it and trying not to fall. He could feel blood on the side of his head and he collapsed to his knees with a sob at the side of the road, clutching his bleeding brow and breathing heavily, trying not to faint. God only knows what would happen if he closed his eyes for even a moment.

"MORRIS!" Morris' head whipped around at the sound of his brother's scream of his name, and he saw him running towards him, Racetrack and Specs at his heels. Morris whimpered and his vision began to swim with tears. Oscar was mad at him, he could tell by the look on his face. He was the older one, he was supposed to be strong. He should have demanded that Wiesel let the two of them keep their job, not run away because of one little hit and a few harsh memories, including the ones from two days ago... and farther back... Morris shuddered and buried his head in his hands, his body shivering as if he had been struck by a sudden cold.

"Morris! Morris, what's the matta with you?!" Oscar shrieked, shaking his brother. He had been for the past minute or so, but Morris just stared at the ground, shivering and clutching his bleeding head. To say Oscar was panicking was an understatement. He had never been so afraid in his life. Wiesel's blow to Morris' head hadn't been light whatsoever, it was bleeding so much, and his eyes were glazed over as he stared blankly at nothing. Oscar tried not to cry; he couldn't cry in front of Specs and Race. So, he kept shaking his brother and calling his name until he looked up at him with a dazed expression, his eyes swimming as well.

"We don't have a job..." was the first thing Morris said, whispering. His brow furrowed in confusion and a single tear slipped down his cheek. Oscar swallowed and bit his lip, nodding in response to his brother's statement. "No... No we don't. But we'll find somethin', a'ight? We'll work it out, right?" Oscar said in a hushed tone. Morris nodded.

"Yeah... Yeah, we'll figure it out..."

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