#cora higgins (newsies oc)

[starship-squidlet]

Plymouth Rock: a Newsies 1950s Band AU (Spinoff of New Music)

Summary: A series of one-shots set directly after the events of Act 4, Scene 4-5 and in the brief gap between scenes 5 and 6. Each story will look at the response of one* member of the band and friend group to their expulsion by Pulitzer. Some stories will involve discussions (/arguments) with family, others are simply self-reflection and introspection. Most of them will be fairly short. (Rated K+)

Kid Blink

Cora Higgins

Davey & Sarah Jacobs

Mush Meyers

Jack Kelly

Race Higgins

Spot Conlon

Finch Cortez

JoJo & Cami de la Guerra

Tommy Boy

Elaine & Alan O’Dell

Mike, Ike, Theo, and Conrad

Crutchie Morris

Specs

Romeo DeJesus

Albert Dasilva

Henry Butler & Boots

Buttons Davenport

Elmer, Annia, & Walter Kasprzak

Smalls

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU’RE NOT ALREADY ON THE 50s AU TAG LIST BUT WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY!!! LET ME KNOW VIA COMMENT OR MESSAGE—JUST INTERACTING WITH THIS POST IS NOT A CLEAR INDICATOR!!! Thank you for your cooperation!!!

(Feel free to reach out if you’d like more information about this AU before deciding if you want to be tagged!!! And thank you all so much for your support!!!)

What you need to know going into this story:

* : as you can see from the list up above, not every chapter is just about one person. Most of the characters who have siblings will share their chapter with their siblings, although non-band siblings (i.e. Sarah, Alan, Theo, Conrad, Annia, and Walter) will take a backseat to the chapter, leaving the focus on the band members. These chapters are many of the ones that will be more family-oriented, rather than just introspection. The two exceptions to this are the twins: Elaine and Alan will probably share the spotlight to their chapter, even though Alan isn’t a member of the band; Mike and Ike are both band members, but will be sharing their chapter with each other, while their brothers who were also involved in New Music A4S4 will be background characters for the story. Henry and Boots will also share their chapter and the spotlight in it, since they are siblings in this AU. Additionally, despite being siblings, Race and Cora have separate chapters, as they will have separate introspective looks at A4S4 rather than interacting with family about it.

There are going to be kind of a lot of OCs involved, because basically everyone’s family is entirely constructed of OCs created for New Music purposes. If you’d like to get more familiar with families, check out the New Music holiday stories, which can all be found here in the New Music masterlist, and the New Music family trees I made back in December.

Unlike New Music, these one-shots will not be music-centric/songfics. No music! But check out the New Music masterlist if you want to check out the playlists for it for some ~mood music~.

I am considering posting the whole of New Music and all of the connected stories on Archive of Our Own. Let me know if this is something you’d be interested in seeing done because that will help me make my decision! 😅

At this point, I’m not planning on writing stories for Katherine, Bill, and/or Darcey, but I may at some point, as I’d like to look at Katherine specifically. If you’d be interested in seeing these, please let me know! It’ll give me more motivation to write them 😂

Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or anything you may recognize from any of its forms. I do not own Cora Higgins—she belongs to @the-cowbi , and I’m super grateful to Mouse for letting me borrow her! I do own this story, Elaine and all other OCs, and anything you don’t recognize from other sources.

Find the New Music Preface/Masterlist here. (A4S5 will be linked as “previous chapter” to Blink’s one-shot, and A4S6 will be linked as “next chapter” to Smalls’s one-shot for seamless navigation between New Music and Plymouth Rock)

Banner made in Procreate. All images from Google. Please let me know if they belong to you and you’d like them removed/credited!!!

[violetwolfraven]

Found

Hey @the-cowbi I wrote this as a Christmas present for you! I know it doesn’t line up with your existing timeline/story so just think of it as an AU! I just thought the idea was fun and you might like it so if you don’t like it just ignore this! Happy Holidays!

Tw: idk general angst? it has a happy ending I swear

Race wasn’t smiling when he came over the bridge, which was Spot’s first sign that something was wrong.

The second sign was how he didn’t sell all his papers that day, didn’t bet on anything, and apparently didn’t meet Joey for their weekly card game over lunch, which meant that something was very wrong, and Spot needed to find out what it was.

He didn’t waste any time after selling hours ended, dragging Race into an empty alley not far from Sheepshead.

“Spot, I’m not in the mood for—“

Spot took his hands off him, putting them up in surrender, “That’s not what I—what’s wrong, Racer?”

“What? Who says somethin’s—“

“Don’t deny it, Race. I know ya too well.”

Race looked like he was going to deny it anyway, for a second, but then his shoulders slumped as he sat down heavily on a crate.

When Spot sat next to him, Race’s head dropped onto his shoulder, and Spot could feel that he was shaking.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

“Remember how I told ya that my mom died when I was really little?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what I never said was how Dad remarried a little afterwards,” Race took a shaky breath, “And I think he mighta been seein’ that woman even while Mama was alive, cause she already had a kid then and that kid looked a lot like me, and—“

“Race, breathe,” Spot squeezed his hand, trying to get him to calm down, “Breathe. There ain’t no fire. Are ya tryin’ to tell me you’s got a brother or sister?”

“A sister,” Race clarified, “She’s... she ain’t that much younger’n me, but... fuck, I thought she was dead. She disappeared not long after I met her, and her mom died, and then Dad died a couple years later and that was when I went to Duane Street, but-but...”

“Shh, Race, it’s okay. Just breathe. You’re okay.”

Spot really wanted to know what was going on here, but the priority right now was stopping Race from having a panic attack.

Gradually, the other boy’s breathing slowed to a reasonable rate, and while having him crying on his shoulder wasn’t ideal, in Spot’s book, his sadness was better than fear.

“What happened with your sister?” he asked quietly after a few seconds of trying to comfort his boyfriend without much success. Comforting people wasn’t really among Spot’s strengths.

Race took a shaky breath, “She’s alive, turns out. And not just alive, she’s... you remember Cora, right? Cora Armstrong?”

Spot nodded, “Walkin’ Mouth’s girl?”

It took a couple seconds for him to realize.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” Race agreed, “She don’t remember me, and that’s alright—I barely remember her, but... we was talkin’ ‘bout our pasts just with the group, and I started realizin’ a lot of hers lines up with mine. She don’t look like the people who raised her, and they was always horrible to her, and... and Sarah says she used to talk ‘bout a brother. Someone she missed from when she was really little, only she forgot when she got older.”

Thinking about it, that girl who’d punched Spot in the face did look a bit like Race. She had the same hair, a similar face shape, fidgeted a lot...

Yeah, Spot could see it. He would’ve seen it a lot sooner if he’d known Race even had a sister, but it sounded like he hadn’t told anyone that.

“Does she know?”

Race laughed shortly, “No. Hells, no. How would that come up? Just ‘hi Cora, turns out the long lost sister I never told anybody I had is you. Ya don’t remember me, but I’s missed you since the first day your mama came home without ya.’ Yeah, that’ll go over great. That totally won’t freak her out.”

“Race...” Spot held him close, hoping he could find the words to get his point across, “This is eatin’ ya up inside.”

“No shit.”

“Racer, if you’s been missin’ your sister this long, ya gotta tell her. You and Cora need to talk ‘bout this.”

He was still hesitating, but Spot knew that he was smart. He was scared shitless, but he already knew it was the right thing to do. This was just a matter of Spot psyching him up for it.

“She deserves to know,” he pointed out, “And you deserve a relationship with her. And besides, Racer, if ya don’t tell her, what’re ya gonna do? Just sit on it until you die?”

Race shook his head slowly, “No. You’re right, Spottie. I... I needs to talk to Cora ‘bout this.”

“Damn right you do.”

He still sat there with him until Race decided to get up.

“Do ya want me to come with you?”

Race shook his head, “No. This is somethin’ I need to do alone.”

His smile was clearly forced, but he didn’t drop it until Spot gave him a look.

“What do I even say to her?”

“I don’t think that matters,” Spot answered, “As long as ya say it without runnin’ out.”

Race nodded, “Yeah, yeah, that makes sense.”

Spot didn’t want to force him to go if he wasn’t ready. Hell, he never liked it when Race left. But he could tell that the other boy was stalling.

Finally, Race stepped forward to hug him goodbye. He was still shaking, but Spot was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to chicken out.

“I’ll love ya no matter how this goes down,” he reminded him, “And chances are, Cora’ll be happy to have you back.”

“You’re probably right. Yeah, it’ll be fine. See ya tomorrow. Love ya, too.”

Race left quickly, and Spot hoped he would keep his courage up long enough to do what he needed to do.

[willowistic22]

this is so beautiful!!!! mouse!!!!! i love it!!!!! 

“How much have you had to drink?”

Name: Fine Word count: 2108 words. Ship: Two depressed painters (Jack Kelly and Cora Higgins) Characters: Jack Kelly, Cora Higgins, Racetrack Higgins.  Setting: Modern! AU Triggers: Mentions of self-harm, blood, suicide attempt, mentions of smoking, arguments, drinking. Authors note: I'm sorry this took me so long, I’ve had this written for a while now and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to post it or I was just going to completely scrap this idea and re-write it as something less... self-protection.  Explanation: Jack Kelly has depression and trauma. Cora is determined to help. More of their friendship. 

Reblogs are appreciated as always. 

“ ‘M jus tired” He’d tell them, the classic smile spreading across his cracked lips. And it wasn’t a lie. 

Jack Kelly was fine. 

He always has been fine. He told his friends this, yelling at their worried eyes and nervous voices trembling with concern. His rants were always punctuated with a slam of his locker and his footsteps falling away into the crowd of school children. He had begged and complained to school counsellors, fists balled tight and white-knuckled as he longed for them to leave his life to him. He told himself that, in the darkness of his bedroom, his painting knife poised like a speer, dancing in the moonlit tears. 

Nobody stared at him with concern when he’d shove away half-empty plates of lunch. Nobody would look him in the eye while he drowns, life falling quickly from the mud-brown of his eyes. 

“ ‘M jus tired” He’d tell them, the classic smile spreading across his cracked lips. And it wasn’t a lie. 

He was tired. 

So. Damn. Tired.  

Tired of fighting against these ghosts that surrounded him. Tired of keeping his legs kicking in the murky sea of depression. Tired of peoples sad eyes and meek questions and sick and tired of that one part of his mind that tells him to scream until the air seeps away from his mind. 

But Jack Kelly was fine. 

Regardless of the scars on his arm and the blood-stained razors that he scrubs in the shower. 

“Jackie?” Her voice breaks his looping thoughts like a needle piercing skin. He turns to look over his shoulder and a smile, normally so hard to produce, creeps effortlessly across his face.  He blinks at Cora and a twinge of almost guilty, bitter envy stains the corners of his eyes; he envies her unburdened smiles and hopeful eyes glistening with the dreams of her future. They’re so untouched and innocent, taking note of the goodness in the world. 

“Yeah?” Jack keeps his best friend soft in his eyes; he burns the feeling of her arms around his middle, hugging him close into the deepest section of his brain. He remembers her laughter.

He remembers his sister happy. Happy and joyful in their messy kitchen, dressed proudly in her dance clothes, simple black leggings and that white shirt that seems to fight to stay together. He commits the sound of the cheep pasta boiling and the hissing of their stove. 

He remembers how she talks with her hands, them flailing soundlessly, dropping a thousand words. He tries to smile as he forces bland, stale noodles down his throat. 

“I’se can stay if ya not feeling great.” 

He shakes his head. “No, no. ‘M fine, go have ya fun. Promise.” 

“Jack-” 

“Cora please!” 

He doesn’t mean to yell. 

He didn’t want to raise his voice. It just happened. He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so cold, no heartless. But her concern pushes guilt through his bloodstream. Jack watches her leave, opening and closing the door without another word. 

He listens to the way her footsteps fall away down the hall; quick as if she’s running away and it’s only when the hallway falls silent does Jack really register that he’s alone. 

That he’s alone and that will be her last memory of him. 

The last memory his baby sister has of him, is him standing in the kitchen, fists raised, eyes cold and voice dripping with anger. Disjointed tears burn as they slide down his cheeks. 

The familiar flavour of guilt tingles on his tongue and it’s not long before Jack craves something stronger. 

Alcohol. 

Just one glass, he promises himself, pouring brandy into a glass. His reflection becomes his drinking partner. 

Just one drink to calm the shaking of his hands and the screaming of his brain. 

Just one drink to give himself the courage to shut his brain up. Permanently. 

Blood pounds loudly in ears, chest heaves and sweat stains concentrated brows. 

Thoughts tumble like shooting stars and feet stumble lost and misplace against the wood floor. 

“Miss Higgins, if you’re going to keep bumping into the other classmates, I will ask you to leave.” 

“Yes madam.” 

Race watches his sister from the corner of his eye, shoes scratching against the floor when he sees her slouch against the wall. “What’s wrong Cor’?” when she shrugs, he nods and allows her to slump against his shoulder, green eyes focusing on the glinting caps of her shoes. 

They stay like that until class ends. The sun has just started to set and Cora stands, watching the sunset until Jack’s car rolls slowly into the parking lot. 

Race asks her if she needs a ride and part of her yells to take it. But she simply shakes her head, waiting for Jack to appear. It’s only when the sun falls below the Manhattan skyline does worry start to flow slowly through her body. 

She calls his cellphone. It rings until his voicemail rings out, bright and cheerful. The home phone just rings until the line falls dead. 

The man in the moon is her witness as she dodges and ducks through the messy streets. People yell at her, older men yell and couples gasp at the teenage runaways disrespect. But it all falls on deaf ears, adrenaline forces her tired legs to pound the pavement, noting every crack and stone under her feet. 

Cora’s not sure when it rained, but she stumbles into puddles and the dirty water soaks through the thin fabric of her converses. It’s cold and it makes her feet ache. But it doesn’t stop her burning feet from pounding and skidding as she curls the corner. 

Somethings happened to Jack.

Something bad. 

She takes the stairs three at a time, stumbling over her own fatigued muscles until their apartment stands, the door unlocked, like an expectant mother. The door swings open when her hand reaches forward effortlessly. 

A wave of darkness and staling alcohol washes over her in broken, heavy waves. It settles against her bare arms like a second skin, if she focuses too hard on it, she can feel the droplets of rum running down her skin like dripping blood. Cora feels her stomach tangle like an invisible hand is running stitches through her. 

Wet, trembling footsteps squelch through the apartment, leaving behind a shaking trail soaking into the gaps between the floorboards. The front door slams closed and using the wall as her guide. Cora leads herself into the living room. 

Whiskey and rum bring tears to her eyes and steals the air from her tired lungs. 

They seem to stick against her skin, like paper clouds against fingerpainted skies. 

“Jack-?” 

A figure lays motionless on the couch; a dead body outlined with empty bottles. Redness stains the darkness and Cora jolts forwards, her muscles finally giving out. The carpet burns her legs but she forces the feeling away. 

She stares down at his face, red eyes stained with cold tears. There’s no note, just a collection of bottles and a broken glass his final note, the last cadence of the song that is Jack Kelly. 

“Ya ain’t leavin me this easily.” Shaking hands shoot forwards and normally gentle fingers grip at his wrist with a wave of unseen anger. She can feel his pulse, forcing blood from the slices out like currents in a pool. Tight fingers and quick thinking pulls the strings into another chord and soon an orchestra breathes life into the silence. 

She’s not sure who called the ambulance. She doesn’t remember the ride to the hospital. Just the feeling of his blood drying and caving rivets into her fingers. It’s then a rush of questions. Questions that she didn’t have the answer for. Questions that Cora couldn’t answer because she was Cora Higgins, not Jack kelly.  It feels like hours until she can wash the blood off her hands and even longer until his eyes open. 

Pain in his arms and a killer hangover is his warning signs that he’s still alive and jack just rolls his eyes. He cant even succeed in the simple task of death. Blurry vision highlights the sharp points of machines and the stark cleanliness o the hospital. He groans and suddenly there’s movement at the end of his bed. 

“Jackie!” He turns to look at Cora over the bars, even in the low light he can hear the tears in her voice.  “You’re alive.” There’s no malice in her voice and no bitterness as she bundles him into a hug.

“Yeah-” he whispers, fighting the tears that brew against his closed eyes. The alcohol still dances off his breath; whiskey and rum waltzing off his words. It makes Cora sigh as she pulls away. 

“Jack ya gotta be honest with me, how much have you had to drink.” 

Its a question that Cora hated asking and one that Jack didn’t have an answer for. He didn’t know. “Enough.” He settles on finally. The word feels spikey in his mouth and he spits it out into the itchy hospital blanket. 

“Enough for what?” She asks, placing her hands over his trembling ones. “For you to forget? To gain that strength? T-to-” 

“To forget that my little sister hates me!” it sounds so stupid out loud, the tears that were once forced between the strong wall of his eyelids fall so freely as he crumples into her arms. “To get rid of that image of me shoutin’ at youse a-and the fear in ya eyes.” 

Cora isn’t sure what to say. She just wraps her arms tighter around Jack and rubs his back.  “I don’t hate you. You’re my brother and yellin comes with being a family. There aint nothin you could do to make me hate ya, Kelly. I love youse.” 

Jack sniffles, rubbing away the last of the tears. “For sure?”

“For sure. Ya stuck with me.” 

Cora visits every day he’s in the hospital. Its a week before he gets home and when he does, Cora sits with him on the couch. Tossing popcorn at him while he flicks through the channels, laughter still buzzing through their bloodstream. He catches a kernel in his mouth and smiles, watching her shift “ya want a drink?” 

“Just juice.” 

Jack watches Cora in the kitchen, chatting to Nemo as he swims around his bowl. He listens to the way she giggles and drums her feelings out with a swift tap of her fingers. Jack listens to the sound of his little sister existing and he smiles. 

For once Jack Kelly isn’t just fine or tired.  

Jack Kelly is happy. 

Because he has a reason to stay alive. 

He has a little sister. 

A month later, they’re on the fire-escape. Their shoulders are pressed casually together as the sunsets. Jack twirls an unlit cigarette between his fingers; a little because his hands can never lay still and a lot because the nicotine bubbling in the air makes it feel like Race is with them instead of half-way across the city. It makes them feel better, the feeling that the family is connected by something as simple as a smell, a smell that means nothing to most people, but everything to them. 

Its Jack who finally breaks the silence, it’s just a sigh at first. A quiet exhale of air that seems to melt on the air before “Y’know, sometimes when it’s dark out like this.” He gestures to the night sky, poking at stars with the bud of his cigarette. “Where I just sorta wanna scream into the void, see if it screams back.” his words are punctuated by a half-smile and a shrug. “Just to remind myself I’m still alive, making a difference in the world, not jus existin in it.” 

Cora’s hand flies out to pat at the metal blindly. He feels like she was going for his hand, but she simply gets to pat his sleeve. “Ya Alive Jack. More alive than ever before.” its reassuring, comfortable. 

“Somedays I don’t feel like it.” He slides the cigarette behind his ear and turns to stare at the stars. 

“Somedays aint gonna be good, they’re gonna suck and ya gonna wish that ya never got outta bed.” Her hand finds his and she squeezes like a toddler scared to be lost. “But. some days are great and ya gonna want to dance and sing. Which is better than all bad days. Ain’t nobody’s life jus fulla roses. Everyones gotta thorn o’ two.” 

“Well, I did always say my life was fulla pricks.” 

Cora smiles, letting her head rest against his shoulder while he chuckles at his own joke. “Ya doin okay Jack. I promise.” 

Jack presses his cheek against her head. “You too Higgins, you too.” 

Tag iist: @plootosart, @watchwhathappensonbroadway, @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy, @maliciousbubbl3s, @blondhairedgoblin @trans-witch-cauldron, @wide-eyed–wonderer, @thespacegeranium, @violetwolfraven, @maggs-is-a-muppet, @letter-from-the-refuge, @jaelynn-is-slightly-confused, @number-1-deaf-clint-barton-stan, @that-aint-news-no-more, @logic-cat, @racetrackserstercigar, @daveyjacobss, @dylkntz, @acesayshi, @newsieshitthestreets, @im-the-letter-t, @crutchie-with-a-y, @nowisthetimetocarrythebanner, @bottlealleytotheharbor, @brooklyn-is-here, @just-give-me-half-a-cup, @gendistic42, @thisisentertaining-sofar, @buttonsdelaguerra, @veel556, @piper-koko-barnes-rogers, @thatsrichhhh, @prettyinlimegreenboots (Just tell me if you wanna be added/ taken off)

[starship-squidlet]

What, me, actually finishing a piece of art for New Music???

Katherine, Cora, and Elaine in the 50s AU!!!

Katherine is in pink, @the-cowbi ‘s Cora is in yellow, and my Elaine is in green!

Yes, I know their skirts should really be longer, but the ad I used for reference was from the late 50s so the skirts were a lil shorter.

I started this drawing before I even started writing the 50s AU, and it’s taken me until now to finish it 😅 oops! But I’m still super proud of how it turned out—I just don’t want to talk about the faces. Or shading. Or whatever is going on with Katherine’s face aofena;oewinaw I give up.

50s AU tag list: @the-cowbi @fifty-for-the-racer @i-am-a-wizard @xbanner-carriedx @aggressive-bucky-barnes-stan (ask to be added/removed!)

Made in procreate.

[starship-squidlet]

New Music: Act 2, Scene 6

Chapter summary: Bad things happen to the sweetest children.

Warnings: mentions of blood/bleeding wounds and similar injuries. Physical assault, bullying, fistfighting and associated violence. More graphic than the last fight scenes in this fic.

Word count: 1,603

Disclaimer: Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @i-am-a-wizard @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy @xbanner-carriedx (let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from the tag list!)

Links: No music in this one, so no links either! If you want the playlist links, you can find them in any other chapter or in my masterlist!!!

A/N: Ahhh don’t hate meee I know this rough chapter—and no chapter tomorrow to make up for it!!! Monday’s chapter will make things better though, I’m sure although I’m pretty sure y’all will want to kill me come Tuesday’s chapter. Please let me know what you think, tho!!!

Previous chapter: Act 2, Scene 5

Next chapter: Act 2, Scene 7

The next day at school was quiet. They all kept their heads down, avoiding Pulitzer and his lackeys around the building. The Delancey brothers were the hardest to avoid completely, but, in their groups of three, they felt safe. After school, Elaine, Cora, and Crutchie left their last class late, having stopped to discuss an upcoming project with their teacher. The halls were nearly empty by the time they left, and they hurried through stopping at their lockers before leaving.

Outside, the autumn wind whipped around them, snatching at the girls’ skirts and whipping them around their legs, and tugging Elaine’s hair out of its neat curls. They grabbed their skirts and pulled them tight around their thighs to keep them in place, laughing into the breeze as they walked.

“If ever there was a day to have worn pants,” Elaine gasped, snatching again at her skirt as the wind picked up again.

“Another way to put that would be ‘the one day I decide to wear a skirt to school is the one day mother nature decides to make me regret it’,” Cora grumbled.

They were only a few blocks from the club when it happened. The girls were walking a few steps ahead of Crutchie, chattering about something that had happened in an earlier class, when he let out a strangled cry. The girls whipped around just in time to see Morris and Oscar Delancey dragging him into an alley.

“Hey, stop!” Cora yelled. She dropped her book bag and sprinted into the alley after them.

“Cora, wait!” Elaine called, even though she was right behind the other girl.

They entered the alley just in time to see the Delanceys throw Crutchie to the ground. “Stop it!” Cora shouted again, running forward to shove one of the twins from behind. He stepped out of the way easily, and she tripped over one of Crutchie’s legs, stumbling a few steps further before managing to stop.

Elaine hurried to Crutchie’s side and helped him to his feet. “What do you want?” she snapped, glaring defiantly up at the twins.

“Want? Nothin’,” Oscar shrugged. He snatched at Elaine, but she took a step back, pulling Crutchie with her.

“Just thought we’d have some fun,” Morris leered, pressing in on them.

“It’s been so long since we’ve gotten a good beatin’ in,” Oscar sighed, smacking his fist into the open palm of his other hand.

“Youse three won’t be much fun, but we’ll take what we can get,” Morris shrugged. He reached out for Crutchie, but Cora popped up between them, slamming her fist into Morris’s stomach. He doubled over, wheezing and gasping. “You’ll regret that, you little runt,” he snarled at her.

“Make me,” Cora said, cocking her fist back for another blow. Before she could swing, however, Oscar shoved her aside, slamming her into the ground of the alley. With her out of the way, he reached again for Crutchie, who took a step back—straight into the brick wall of the building behind him.

Crutchie swung his crutch around from the side, lifting it over Cora and Morris’s heads to slam it into Oscar’s shoulder. He made contact and tried to pull back, but Morris caught the crutch as it went over his head again and flung it down the alley, where it clattered against the cracked macadam and vanished into shadow. Morris climbed up and kicked Cora back to the ground with a foot planted squarely in the middle of her chest, leaving a dirty smear across her blouse. Oscar grabbed Elaine by the arm and flung her to the other side, and both boys grabbed onto Crutchie and dragged him into the middle of the alley.

When she hit the ground, Elaine let out a scream that echoed through the alley. The twins froze for a moment, afraid of the attention that would draw, but, when nothing happened, they traded a wicked grin and continued what they were doing. They kicked Crutchie’s legs out from under him and he crumpled to the pavement, held up only by Morris’s grip on his arm. Oscar sneered down at the smaller boy and pushed his sleeve up. He reached out and grabbed Crutchie by the front of his shirt, and slammed his fist into his face. Elaine screamed again, a wordless cry that might have been something along the lines of “stop” or “no”, but came out as only a ragged screech.

As soon as Cora got her breath back, she rolled up and onto her feet and flew at Morris Delancey. This time, he saw her coming and dragged Crutchie up, shoving him into Cora and sending them both to the ground. He and Oscar laughed, a horrible, evil noise that barely resembled the joy typically encapsulated in the sound. Their attention was so focused on the scene, however, that they almost didn’t see Elaine coming. Almost.

Hobbling on a twisted ankle, Elaine made for Oscar Delancey, letting out another furious screech. He caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye and moved smoothly out of the way, sending her straight into the arms of his brother. Morris picked her up under his arm and hauled her down the alley, quite literally kicking and screaming. She swung her arms wildly, trying to land a solid hit on him but unable to do so from her position.

Oscar aimed a kick at Crutchie, burying his foot in the boy’s stomach and earning a pained cry in response. Crutchie curled in on himself, trying to protect himself from further blows, but Oscar had already lost interest in him. instead, he reached out and grabbed Cora by the wrists, dragging the stunned girl to her feet and pulling her along the alley, towards the wall Crutchie and Elaine had run into earlier. Cora dug her heels in, but Oscar was bigger and stronger than her and didn’t have much trouble in dragging her along.

Fortunately, Oscar was distracted enough by Cora that he didn’t see anyone else coming.

Racetrack Higgins’s fist slammed into the side of Oscar Delancey’s face hard enough to make the bigger boy see stars. He dropped Cora instantly and she hit the ground hard. Jack Kelly grabbed one of Oscar’s arms and Race grabbed the other, and they dragged him backwards, shouting, until he was clear of both Cora and Crutchie. They flung him to the ground, and Race reached down again, pulling Oscar up just far enough that his head wouldn’t smack into the pavement when Race punched him again.

Oscar’s shouting alerted Morris just in time. He dropped Elaine just as Mush slammed into him, stumbling over the girl’s body and sending both of them crashing to the ground. Albert pulled her out of the way even as she curled in on herself, arms wrapped around her head. He scooped her up into his arms and darted down the alley to deposit her on the ground next to Crutchie and Jack, snatching up Crutchie’s crutch as he passed it. He ran back towards where Mush and Morris were still on the ground, all flying fists and stray elbows, and pulled Morris off of Mush, shoving him towards where his brother had finally gotten away from Race and was struggling to his own feet in the mouth of the alley.

“Get out while you still can,” Albert snarled.

Morris didn’t hesitate. He stumbled down the alley and grabbed his brother, dragging him out into the street.

Albert helped Mush to his feet and brushed dirt off of his shoulder. “Nice one.”

Mush spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground. “Ow.”

“Yeah, that might be broken,” Albert pointed to his nose, which was dripping blood steadily.

They walked back to the others. Race had helped Cora up and was holding her close, letting her cry silently into his shoulder. Elaine was hunched into a ball against the wall, watching the others as silent tears streamed down her own face. Crutchie was bleeding from a gash across his forehead, his face already bruising and swelling. The blood dripped down his face and onto his shirt, adding to a growing stain on his shoulder. Jack pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to Crutchie’s head.

“Everyone alive?” Albert said, leaning down to squeeze Crutchie’s shoulder.

“Close enough,” Crutchie squinted up at him.

“Elaine?” Albert glanced back at her. “You okay?”

She nodded. Mush knelt down next to her and offered her a hand up. She let him pull her to her feet, but nearly fell again when she tried to rest weight on her right foot.

“I think I sprained it,” she mumbled as Mush slipped an arm around her back for more support.

Race settled Cora on his back and stood up. “Let’s get you guys cleaned up at the club.”

“Good idea,” Jack said. He helped Crutchie to his feet and handed him his crutch. “You okay to walk?”

“Yeah,” Crutchie nodded. He took over pressing the handkerchief to his forehead and smiled half-heartedly up at Jack. “Just make sure I don’t run into anyone.”

“You got it,” Jack laughed.

Albert passed a handkerchief to Mush for his nose. “Pinch as hard as you can stand. Head back. Elaine, come on.” He crouched in front of her, and she climbed gingerly onto his back.

Mush grabbed Elaine and Crutchie’s bags from the ground as they went, slinging it over one shoulder. When they got out to the street, Jack paused to pick up Cora’s bag as well, and they headed for the club together.

[starship-squidlet]

New Music (A Newsies 1950s band AU)

Cora Higgins

(Cora belongs to @the-cowbi and is amazing and I love her. Thanks so much to Mouse for letting me borrow her for this story!!!)

Sings backup in the band.

Race’s adopted little sister. They met when they were 10, so they’ve been together for seven years at this point.

Has had a crush on Davey since freshman year of high school, but has never gotten up the courage to even ask his name.

Learns to play piano once Davey joins the band—he teaches her!

Will fight anyone who insults her family.

Smol.

Medda is basically a surrogate mother to her, especially since her and Race’s mother died a few years back. Medda is also the one who taught Cora to sing (and play the flute) back in middle school!

Tags: @the-cowbi @i-am-a-wizard @xbanner-carriedx @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy

All images from google. Let me know if they belong to you and you want them removed/credited. Made in procreate.

[starship-squidlet]

When Davey and Les are counting up their coins. Cora goes to give Davey the money he earned and he gently tucks her hands away and kisses her on the head as like a "no it's okay"

HNNNG YES ADORABLE

[starship-squidlet]

New Music: Act 2, scene 7

Chapter summary: The aftermath of the fight with the Delanceys. Cora and Davey get to spend some time together.

Word count: 2,122

Warnings: blood tw, injury tw (nothing serious, but just as a heads up these are things that come up in the chapter)

Disclaimer: Preface

Tag list: @the-cowbi @i-am-a-wizard @xbanner-carriedx @chaotic-sunflower-galaxy (let me know if you’d like to be added to/removed from the tag list!)

Links: Spotify playlist, YouTube playlist, ‘Just the Way you Look Tonight’ on YouTube

A/N: Hey, look, I finally figured out how to put the keep reading links in mobile!!! Now y’all don’t have to scroll past mega-long chapters any more!!! I’ll go back and add them into the other chapters at some point, too. Also! There are some deleted scenes that I’m going to be posting today or tomorrow! Two are from this chapter, and one is from an earlier chapter and I just forgot to post it then (oops). So stay tuned for those!

Previous chapter: Act 2, Scene 6

Next chapter: Act 2, Scene 8

Davey turned around as the door to the club opened, ready to join the others in their typical gentle ribbing of Jack, Albert, and Race for being late, but his comments died on his lips at what walked through the door.

Race and Cora came through first. Even with her face buried in Race’s shoulder, the filth covering Cora’s clothes was obvious, and Davey immediately knew that something was wrong. This conclusion was supported by the next people through the door: Crutchie, clutching a bloodied handkerchief to his head and walking half-supported by Jack. They were followed by Albert, carrying Elaine on his back, and Mush, holding another bloody handkerchief over his nose.

Henry was the first person to move, running for the first aid kit Medda kept behind the bar. The others shifted into action right after him, getting chairs to set Crutchie and the girls down in, getting them glasses of water, and wrapping ice in towels to help with swelling and bruises. Spot took Mush by the shoulder and led him into the bathroom. Albert set Elaine on one of the bar stools and helped her out of one of her shoes, grabbing one of the bundles of ice and holding it to her ankle. Race set Cora down and gave her a quick, tight hug before picking up another ice bundle and holding it to his knuckles.

Henry went straight for Crutchie, checking out the bleeding gash over his eye first. “This isn’t actually as bad as it looks,” he said. “I don’t think it needs stitches. The bleedin’s slowin’ too. Keep pressure on it until it stops.”

Davey noticed Cora’s eyes flicking around the room, like they couldn’t focus on anything. With everyone flitting around, chattering with each other, demanding answers, he couldn’t blame her. He stepped forward hesitantly and brushed a hand against her shoulder. She flinched away, nearly falling out of the chair.

“I’m sorry!” Davey said. “Come on. Let’s go over there.” He offered his hand to her. Cora took it, trembling, and let him lead her to the other side of the club, where they sat down in a corner booth. The high seats blocked out some of the noise the others were making, like they were in a bubble. Davey looked down and saw Cora picking at the skin on her hands, pulling it away from where it had split over her knuckles. “Hey,” he whispered, reaching out to take her hands. She pulled away from him with a little gasp. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” Davey murmured. He held his hands up, then set them on the table. “I don’t want to hurt you, or scare you at all. I just want to help. What can I do?”

Cora shook her head and stared down at her hands. Davey nodded and crossed his arms on the table, resting his chin on them, hoping that his presence alone would help Cora relax.

Back over by the bar, an argument was brewing. Davey glanced over, trying to catch up on what he had missed.

“That’s it,” Jack was pacing back and forth, clearly furious. “That. Is. It. This is done. We’re done—all of it.”

“Jack, come on, you’re not makin’ sense,” Race said, shifting the ice on his bruised knuckles.

“No,” Jack snapped, spinning on him. “I said before—the last time—that we should stop before things got outta hand, but youse convinced me to keep goin’. Well, now it’s over.” He stalked over to Elaine and lifted her arm, showing a nasty scrape that went from her elbow almost all the way down to her wrist under the ripped fabric of her sweater. “Look at this. All of youse. Look at this, and at Crutchie’s head, and Mush’s nose. I’m not okay with this.” Elaine yanked her arm back and cradled it against her chest, glaring at Jack. “I ain’t gonna let anyone else get beat up over music.”

“What are you sayin’, Jack?” Mush asked, his voice low.

“It’s over,” Jack said, turning to face him. “All of this. The band. Over and done.”

“Jack, the Delancey twins have been beatin’ people up long before we started playin’ music and doin’ shows,” Albert protested.

“They didn’t start because of us,” Race added.

“Yeah, but we all became a target because of this,” Jack said. “Everybody knows that the Delanceys have been beatin’ up kids on Pulitzer’s orders since freshman year. Kids he couldn’t punish otherwise. Pulitzer wants to control us, that’s why he’s got Snyder and his goons patrollin’ the school all the time. If he can’t control us through legit means, he’ll do it through the Delanceys.” He flung his arms out. “Well, Pulitzer can’t control this. He tried—last night, he was the one who sicced Snyder on us, I’m sure of it. He’s doin’ whatever it takes to shut us down.”

“He’s doin’ whatever it takes, and he’s winnin’!” Mush snapped. “Because you’s lettin’ him! If we stop what we’re doin’ now, it’s tellin’ Pulitzer that we can be controlled, just like you was sayin’. It’s lettin’ him win and givin’ in to his pressure.”

“You’d really let him take away something that makes you as happy as music does over a couple of bullies?” Elaine asked softly.

Jack turned around and took her hands in his, looking up into her eyes. “If it would keep you—all of you, or even one of you—safe? Absolutely.” He kissed Elaine on the knuckles and released her hands, then turned around, looking at the rest of the group. “Look, youse may be okay with this, but I ain’t,” he said softly. “I ain’t gonna be responsible for anyone else gettin’ hurt.”

“You’re not responsible for this, Jack!” Finch insisted. “Pulitzer is. The Delanceys are. It ain’t your fault.”

“It’s none of our faults,” Spot said, taking a step closer. “The Delanceys is just a couple of meatheads. They ain’t thinkin’ for themselves. All they wants is to hurt other people. Pulitzer just gave ‘em an excuse to go after all of us. They was probably told that they could do whatever they wanted to us without gettin’ in trouble, and that just made us the easiest targets for them. The Delanceys have come after all of us before. It’s nothin’ new. Now we’s just easy pickins.”

“That’s the point!” Jack cried. “We’re easy targets to them. Why would they risk goin’ after anyone else when they could just keep pickin’ us off?” He grabbed Elaine’s arm again. “What’s it gonna take before we do let them win? Broken bones? Worse? What if they put someone in the hospital? What do we do then?”

Elaine snatched her arm back again. “Do me a favor, Jack. Don’t use me as an illustration.” She slid gingerly off the barstool and limped towards the door, stopping to pick up her bag. “It’s clear we won’t be getting any rehearsing done today. I’m going home.”

Finch sighed. “I’ll drive you.” He stood up and took Mush by the arm. “You too. Let’s go.” Mush didn’t protest, but let Finch pull him out of the club.

They passed Medda on the way out, and she gasped when she saw Mush’s face. “What happened?”

“The Delanceys,” Mush sighed. “Everyone’s okay. Henry’s patching Crutchie up now. Jack’s pissed, though, so fair warnin’.”

“Can I assume you all won’t be rehearsing today?” Medda arched an eyebrow.”

“Yeah, but we’ll be back tomorrow, don’t worry,” Finch grinned.

“I look forward to it,” Medda smiled. She patted Mush on the shoulder as she passed, and nodded down the street. “You’d better hurry and catch your girlfriend before she gets too far away.”

Finch glanced down the sidewalk and sighed. “Elaine! Wait! I said I’d drive you!”

Medda opened the door and stepped into the club. As advertised, the atmosphere was tense. Henry was taping up a gash on Crutchie’s forehead, Jack hovering nearby. Some of the other boys were close and seemed to be trying to help—Mike and Ike, Boots, JoJo, Specs. At the other end of the bar were most of the other boys—Spot, Blink, Albert, Race, Romeo, and Smalls. Medda looked around for Cora, concerned, but spotted Davey’s side in the corner booths and smiled to herself. She went to check on Crutchie first, and patted Henry on the shoulder. “That’s a nice job you’re doing there. If any of you need anything, I’ll be in my office.”

On the other side of the club, Davey glanced back down at Cora. She had her eyes squeezed shut, and her hands clamped over her ears. Davey raised a hand to brush against her shoulder, but thought better of it. “Cora? Cora, can you hear me?”

Cora opened her eyes slowly and looked over at him.

“They stopped fighting. It’s quieter now. It’s okay; you can uncover your ears.”

Cora moved her hands away for a moment. When Davey proved to be correct, she moved them down into her lap and started picking at her skin again.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Davey murmured, reaching out to take her hands in his. “It’s okay. You’re okay. No-one is going to hurt you. I promise. I won’t let them.”

Cora offered him a watery smile. Davey looked around, not really sure what to do. “Hey, Cora, what’s your favorite song? That we sing, at least. Or your favorite song to sing. Or perform. If… uh, if that makes sense.”

Cora stayed silent for a moment. Davey didn’t think she was going to answer, at first. But then:

“I like… I like when you sing Sinatra,” she said, her voice small.

“Oh yeah?” Davey grinned. “What’s your favorite Sinatra song?”

She paused. “Um… I can’t remember what it’s called. I liked the one you sang for your audition. That was real nice.”

Davey thought for a moment. “‘Moon River’? That’s a good one.”

Cora nodded. “It sounds real pretty when you sing it.”

Davey smiled to himself. “Thanks.”

They sat quietly for another minute. Cora shifted slightly and leaned into Davey. He very gently slipped his arm out from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders. “What other Sinatra songs do you like?” he asked finally.

Cora shrugged. “Lots. He’s got a nice voice. It’s soothin’. Like yours.”

Davey smiled down at her. “Thanks.” They lapsed into silence again. Once again, Davey was the one to break it, as he began to hum softly.

Cora glanced up at him as he began to sing quietly:

“Some day, when I'm awfully low,

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight.”

Davey didn’t miss the soft smile that was beginning to creep over Cora’s face, so he kept singing, emboldened now.

“Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm,

And your cheeks so soft,

There is nothing for me but to love you

And the way you look tonight.”

The rest of the club seemed to fade away. He could no longer hear the other boys talking—he wasn’t sure if it was because they had left, or if he was just so focused on him and Cora in their little bubble.

“With each word your tenderness grows,

Tearin' my fear apart,

And that laugh, wrinkles your nose,

Touches my foolish heart.”

The longer the song went on, the more Cora seemed to relax. She rested more and more of her weight against him, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Her breathing grew steady and even, and her hands relaxed in her lap, no longer tearing at themselves.

“Lovely, never, never change,

Keep that breathless charm,

Won't you please arrange it?

'Cause I love you

A-just the way you look tonight!”

Davey’s breath hitched in his throat and he stopped singing. Cora looked up at him, green eyes wide, but she didn’t say anything. Davey swallowed thickly and whispered the next words: “And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart…” He found himself leaning lower, drawn by some magnetic force to Cora. His voice cracked, but he kept going with the lyrics, his voice getting even softer.

“Lovely, don't you ever change,

Keep that breathless charm,

Won't you please arrange it?

'Cause I love you

A-just the way you look tonight”

He swallowed again and pulled away. Cora looked down at her lap again, her hands shifting like she was about to start picking at them again. Davey took a deep breath, leaned down, and quickly pecked her on the cheek. When she looked up at him again, her eyes were even wider, shining happily as a beautiful smile spread over her lips. Davey grinned back at her.

“Just the way you look tonight.”