THIS IS SO GOOD BUT IM CRYING

THIS IS SO GOOD BUT IM CRYING

Sad headcanon: les doesn’t survive to adulthood

um this is rude how dare you (here have another fic no one asked for) ((I did minimal research and didn’t want to put Les in a sanitarium soooooo))

Les is sick. Davey doesn’t like to talk about it.

Jack remembers the day they found out. It was cold outside. Not quite winter. Les had a cold. That’s what Davey said.

Les had a cold. He had been sneezing and sniffling all day. Jack told Davey not to worry.

They were walking through Central Park, taking in the beauty of the falling leaves.

Les coughed. The first of many. He doubled over. His small frame shook. Davey grabbed him by the shoulders, held him until he stopped.

There was blood on Les’ lips, blood on the leaves by his feet.

Davey hugged Les a little tighter, looked at Jack.

Jack couldn’t think of anything to say.

There was a newsie a few years before. Her name was Rose. They called her that because of the bright red color of her lips. They were always so red.

She coughed a lot, too.

Les is sick. Much sicker than a simple cold. He doesn’t come out to sell as often these days.

Davey tries to sell enough for both of them. It’s hard. Jack keeps less and less of his share of the money. 

Les needs a doctor, Davey says. They can’t afford a doctor.

Weeks pass. Les doesn’t come out at all anymore. Jack knows the way to the Jacobs’ house like the back of his hand. He sits beside Les’ bed with Davey. 

Davey says that his mother cries so often these days.

Les is sick. He has a fever more often than not. The coughing is worse, so much worse. But Les still smiles. He asks Jack every day about the others. They miss Les.

A month passes. Les is paler now. Thinner. Jack brings him sweets sometimes from the corner store, but he rarely eats them. Davey tells him stories, and Jack draws him pictures.

Les still smiles, but it’s forced. He’s tired.

Davey doesn’t smile at all anymore.

Another month. There is snow on the ground. There is no heat in the apartment. Jack brings another blanket from the lodging house. It’s a quilt covered in patchwork squares. Buttons made it for Les. It doesn’t do much for his violent shivering.

Les is sick. He’s so thin, Jack can count every single one of his ribs. He coughs all the time, and Davey wipes the blood from his lips with a stained handkerchief. Les sleeps a lot. Last time Jack visited, he didn’t wake up.

Davey’s parents are by Les’ side almost constantly. Sarah is not; Davey mentions to Jack that she hasn’t stopped crying in days.

It happens a few days later. Jack brings a piece of candy for Les, hoping against hope that maybe he’ll want it. Davey meets him at the door. His face is red, his eyes puffy.

Jack realizes that this is the first time he has seen Davey cry since Les got sick. All he can do is pull Davey into a hug. They stand like that for ages.

Jack tells the others. For once in its existence, the lodging house is silent.

A week passes. Davey comes to the circulation gate one morning. He’s there to sell papers. He doesn’t smile.

Every day, Jack looks for Les in the crowd of newsies. He longs to see his smile.

He never finds him.