Hiya! Okay, my mom said I shouldn't be writing sappy fiction anymore unless I'm getting paid for it… but this was started before that mandate. We'll see how long that whole thing lasts. First things first… this is going to be a short story. There will be none of this epic saga story nonsense. I hope. Anyways, here we go!

Disclaimer: No I don't own the Newsies.

All was quiet in New York. A chilly wind whistled between the buildings, warning of an autumn storm that was approaching the city. At number 9 Duane St., a dozen or so boys slept quietly in their bunks. All but two.

Mush lay awake, listening to Racetrack pray fervently in Italian. He folded his hands behind his head, thinking that maybe he should give prayer a try again. He hadn't done it since he was a very little boy. He wasn't sure if he even remembered how to pray. He took a deep breath.

Dear God, I don't know if you're there, or if you're listening, but if you are… I'm getting lonely down here. Could you send me an angel? My mother told me that all boys get their angel if they wait long enough. Maybe I just haven't waited long enough… so maybe could you give me patience to wait? Anyways, please take care of my angel for me, until it's my turn to take care of her. Please look out after my friends and I. And that little kitten in the alley off of Lafayette… Mush yawned. Amen.

"Okay, Sariel. Here's your orders. Read them over, and then you'll have to go." A tall angel handed instructions to the much smaller angel. She opened the scroll, reading carefully. When she had finished, she rolled up the scroll and handed it back. The tall angel patted her head.

"Don't worry, Sariel. Just think, when you get back, you get your wings. Now come on, down you go." The tall angel pulled open a door in the cloud. Sariel looked nervously through it, before jumping in.

She dropped quickly towards earth. It felt like it was much too quickly. Sariel closed her eyes. She landed with a heavy thump. She cracked open one eye. She was in a filthy alley, piles of trash drifting knee deep against the buildings. She looked down to find that her shimmering white robes had become a white dress, which, to her dismay, was already dirty. The cold cobblestones made her bare feet ache.

She began to wade through the garbage to the entrance of the alley. Two figures stepped out to block her way.

"Well hello dere, Dollface. Wheah might you'se be goin' on dis fine evenin'?" One of them sneered. The other one chuckled.

"Please leave." Sariel asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

"Mmm… no." He laughed. Sariel turned and ran toward the other end of the alley.

"Dat's right Doll! Run! We'se still gonna catch you'se!" The boy crowed. Footsteps pounded behind her. She wove through piles of garbage, dodging down streets and alleys. Her breath came in short, painful gasps. She'd never had to run before. Not like this. The streets ripped at her tender feet, and her dress caught and tore on things as she ran past. She turned left to find herself in a dead end alley. The boys stopped behind her.

"Jist come wid us, Doll. We'll go easy wid you'se." One of them crooned. Sariel fell to her knees. She couldn't fight, she couldn't run. She was helpless.

Mush was hurrying home. It was much too late for him to be out, but he had found another kitten that he had stopped to pet, and had lost track of time. He had stopped to check the street to make sure it was empty before crossing. That was when a girl in a white dress tore past him, a look of terror on her face. Her bare feet slapped the wet pavement as she ran. A few seconds later, two street rats followed the way she went. Mush set off after them at a quick jog.

The girl had run into a short alley that Mush knew dead ended. The boys stopped just outside of it. They were talking to her. Mush was too far away to hear what they were saying, but the tone of the voice that carried to him sounded sinister. The boys entered the alley. Mush followed them.

Sariel could hear the boys behind her. Moving towards her. Speaking in soothing tones like one would to a frightened animal. She was so tired though. She wasn't going to run anymore. They had nearly reached her when another voice filled the alley.

"I'se dunno 'about you'se, but me muddah taught me dat it ain't nice to hoit goils."

The two street rats whirled on the intruder. They recognized the figure silhouetted in the end of the alley.

"Let it be, Meyers." One of them growled. Mush shook his head.

"No, Fitch. Jist leave, 'nd no one's gotta get hoit."

"'nd leave da goil wid you'se? No way, Meyers. Dis ends heah." The other one snarled. Mush shrugged.

After a short struggle, the two street rats hightailed it away from the alley, yelling back over their shoulders that the girl was to scrawny to be any good, anyways. Mush ignored them, and approached the girl, who was crumpled of the ground.

"Miss?" He asked carefully. He didn't want to frighten her.

She didn't respond. He gently touched her shoulder. She still didn't respond. Mush reached out to brush away some of her raven curls from her face. Her eyes were closed. She was unconscious.

Mush was struck by the girl's beauty. Her skin was so pale that it seemed to glow like the moon. Her face was dainty and heart-shaped, framed by long, dark tumbles of loose curls. He wondered what color her eyes were behind her pale eyelids. He watched her for a few minutes, entranced. He was woken from his reverie by a cold breeze.

He looked again at the girl. She was barefoot, her feet torn to shreds. Her light dress was no match against the cold autumn nights, either. He needed to get her inside. But where? The girl looked to be maybe fourteen. She was too old for an orphanage. It wouldn't be proper to bring her back to the lodging house. He wondered if she lived around here. If so, he didn't know where. Maybe he could take her to a church. That's it! A church.

Mush was about to pick her up when he remembered his last time at a church. He had come into the sanctuary to warm up, maybe to pray. The priest had chased him from the place, shouting "Thief!" No, he wasn't going to take her to church. He guessed she would have to take her back to Duane Street with him. He picked her up, gently cradling her to him, right as the first drops of rain fell.

Mush hurried through the torrential rains, trying to keep the pair as dry as possible. It was no good. By the time that he reached the lodging house, he was soaked through. The girl's dark curls were plastered to her head. Mush pushed through the door. Kloppman wasn't at his usual post. He must have been cleaning up supper.

Mush carried the girl upstairs and passed the poker game that was going on in the corner of the bunk room. The boys looked up as he passed.

"What's dat?" One of them piped up, his cigar clamped firmly in his teeth.

"Dat's Mush's latest pet." Another answered, not looking up from his cards. His face was heavily shadowed by the cowboy hat he wore. "What'se it dis time, Mush? A dog? A cat? A horse?"

"It's a goil." The first one said.

"A goil?" The cowboy's head snapped up.

Mush ignored them. He was too busy trying to get the girl's wet clothes off of her. They clung to her tiny frame.

"Geez, Mush. I'se hope you'se bought her dinnah befoah doin' dat." The cowboy mused. Mush just shrugged and hung the wet dress near the tiny stove. He crossed the room and pulled his blanket off of his bunk. Tenderly, he wrapped it around the girl, who was in only her camisole and bloomers. None of the boys looked away, though.

As the girl warmed up, she began to stir. Her eyes flew open and her face crumpled with pain, her hands fluttering around her wounded feet. Mush grabbed her hands before she could touch them.

"Hey. It's okay." He soothed. "I'm gonna take care of it, but it's gonna hoit a li'l."

The girl bit her lip and nodded.

"I'se gonna be right back. Lemme heat up some watah, 'nd get stuff for it. Stay heah." Mush stood. The girl nodded again.

The boys all stared at the girl in wide eyed wonder. She met their gazes with a frank stare. They all expected her to blush at being seen in her state of undress. She didn't though. She just cocked her head.

Mush kept coming in, first carrying in a few towels, then some soap. Next a dishpan. Some bandages and ointment. Then two buckets of steaming water. He settled himself at her feet, and gently took one of them in his hands.

Mush dipped a towel in one of the buckets of warm water and started to tenderly clean off the dirt and grime from the streets. He knew how badly it hurt to run barefoot through the streets, and he knew how badly it hurt to take care of your feet after you did that. When he started picking the pebbles out of the wounds, he expected her to cry or try and pull away. She didn't though. Mush looked up. The girl was biting her quivering lip as tears coursed down her face. Blood welled up on her lip where her teeth cut through it.

When he had finished with one foot, he poured some of the clean water into the dishpan and set it in there to soak. He started to clean the other foot, as the rest of the newsies watched in silent wonder. They knew Mush could be really, well, mushy, but this was pretty soft, even for him. Mush finished cleaning her feet and started to bandage them.

As Mush was cleaning up the supplies, Kloppman stuck his head in the door.

"Bedtime, boys. Lights out."

The boys grumbled and complained as they made their way to their bunks, shedding clothing. Mush scooped up the girl again and lifted her into his bunk, tucking her in. He left the bunkroom and returned a few moments later carrying a blanket and a spare pillow. He made himself a bed on the floor and curled up under his blanket.

Dear God, I don't know what to do with thins girl, but for some reason you gave her to me to look after. Please help me do a good job, and heal her feet quickly. Amen.

With that last sleepy thought, Mush slipped into unconsciousness.