#daveyjacobsxreader

One day ago, Davey Jacobs was walking on air. The strike had just been started and they just needed to spread the word to the other newsies in New York. He had his eye on the most amazing newsie he had met in the two days he had been working there, and you just happened to feel the same way.

But that was before the strike had actually started. That was before Les had a broken arm and Davey was bleeding so bad he passed out and had to be carried back to the Lodge. That was before the other news boys were battered and bruised, worse than he was. That was before Crutchie was dragged off to the refuge and Jack was missing. That was before newsies couldn’t walk. That was before he had to stay in the Lodge so his mom wouldn’t freak out about his injuries and forbid him from working as a newsie.

So here he lay, trying to catch some sleep for once, next to you. You were forbidden from going to the strike, being one of the younger newsies, but that didn’t stop you. He had pulled you away from fights with the Delancey’s, earning blows to the face. You continued to fight with the Delancey’s for hurting Davey. It was a continuous circle, until the bulls came. Newsies were dragged away. Davey tossed and turned as he heard Crutchie yelling for Jack.

Then the dream changed, and it wasn’t Crutchie being pulled away, it was Les. He was crying, begging for someone, for Davey, for his mother, but Davey was lying on the concrete, passed out.

You felt the mattress beneath you move, and you turned over to Davey, who was writing back and forth, tears in his eyes. You shot up and moved closer to him. The tall boy continued to sleep, turning violently. You softly put your hand on his shoulder and shook him a little bit. He shot up and looked at you.

“Is Les here? Please tell me it was all a dream.”

“Les is still here….Dave, are you alright?”

“I can’t stop dreaming about what happened. It replays in my mind, the Delancey’s hurting you, the bulls taking away Crutchie, and then it changes. They aren’t taking away Crutchie, they’re taking away Les...when you woke me, they were about to take you away,” he wrapped his arms around you. “But you’re here. You’re not okay.”

You snuggled into his arms, his hand caressed your face, touching the black eye and busted lip.

“I’m okay Davey, I promise. But you...you’re not alright. Not just physically, but up in here too,”

You tapped on his head a little bit, earning a smile from Davey, even if it was too dark to see.

“I can’t help thinking that this was all my fault….I brought up the strike and suggested we tell Pulitzer and that we go through it,” he said all these things, blaming himself, through hard, deep breaths.

You put your hands on his face.

“Davey...hey, hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore. By the time the strike is over, the Delancey’s will be too scared to hurt us, and the bulls and Snyder, we won’t have to worry about them. Second of all, none of this, the strike, everybodies injuries, Crutchie going to the Refuge, none of this is your fault.”

Davey took a deep breath, slowly, surely, trying to regain total calmness. His hands grabbed yours from his face and held them close to his chest.

“Thank you, (Y/N)....” you felt him lean in closer to you, his breath coming closer and closer.

His nose bumped into yours, and his forehead stayed against yours.

“You can kiss me...if you want to…”

“I want to,” he whispers against your lips.

His lips press against yours, and you kiss back, even though it hurts a little bit. He pulls back, remembering your lip.

“I’m sorry,”

“It’s all good Davey,” you mutter, pressing one more kiss to his lips. “We need to go to sleep.”

You lay down and Davey wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him, your head resting against his chest, and you both peacefully fall asleep.