#mainly 1914 jack but i see 1899 a lot too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wordshakerofgallifrey · 6 years

Text

original “Found You” beginning

a lovely nonny asked me what the original beginning for Found You was, and I am pleased to say that I did not delete it!

so under the cut is the original beginning before I added Jack’s perspective. there’s a lot from here I really liked, but in the end, I loved the beginning I ended up writing a lot more.

It wasn’t always the same, each life they were reincarnated into.

Sometimes they were royals, forced into an arranged marriage. Sometimes they were both struggling to get by. Sometimes they met as kids and grew up together. Sometimes he found her first. Sometimes she did.

Sometimes they didn’t find each other at all.

*~*~*~*~*

What started as a bet between her and Darcy turned into a wonderful, slightly terrifying, discovery.

Darcy had bet she couldn’t name ten women who wrote “real” news before World War one.

“Real news, Darcy. Really?” Katherine crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

He held up his hands defensively. “I’m sorry, Kath, but it’s just a fact that women in that time mainly wrote society pieces. They didn’t write hard-hitting news. I’m not saying I agree, but…”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ll take your bet. What do I get when I win?”

Darcy considered this. “If you win, I’ll drive you to work for a week—” Katherine raised an eyebrow again “—two weeks, plus bring you coffee every morning. And if I win…” he sat back, eyes narrowing as he thought. “You take all my messages, schedule any of my appointments, and take notes for me in staff meeting. Two weeks.”

Katherine leaned forward on the table. “You play chauffeur, I play secretary?”

He nodded. “But,” he held up a finger. “You only have a week.”

Nodding slowly, she agreed. “Deal.” Katherine spat in her hand and held it out for Darcy to shake.

Darcy wrinkled his nose. “Kath, that’s disgusting.”

“That’s business, Darcy.” She proffered her hand again. “Come on, Darce. You know the rules. Spit shake or it doesn’t count.” They’d been doing it since they were kids, and Darcy always hated it.

But rules were rules, and Darcy was nothing if not a rule-follower. Katherine knew that. Sighing, he, too, spat in his palm and shook her hand.

It seemed so innocent at the time.

*~*~*~*~*

The first few were easy. Nellie Bly, Margaret Fuller, Ina Eloise Young. She could name them in her sleep. Eliza Lynn Linton, since Darcy allowed her to include European writers.

That’s when it got tricky.

Katherine managed to get a list of eight women before she went where she swore she’d never go again, not after she finally made it out of the intern pool.

The archives in the basement of the Sun’s office.

It was dark, fairly dusty, and freezing. Boxes stacked up a dozen high with faded labels on the front. About halfway into the room, she found a box with June 1914 written on the front.

“Well,” Katherine muttered. “Have to start somewhere.”

Two hours later, she was hungry, cold, had only found one other name, and was seriously beginning to think that being Darcy’s secretary for a couple of weeks wouldn’t be that bad, when she opened a box that said July 1899.

NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD was the headline on top.

“The whole world?” Katherine asked aloud, disbelieving. Skimming through the article, she caught the name ‘Joseph Pulitzer’. “Oh. The World. Clever.” She moved her eyes back up to read the byline.

Katherine Plumber

“Weird…” What were the odds she’d find a fellow journalist with the same name? “Now, Katherine Plumber, was this ‘real news’?”

She read the article again, something about the newsies in New York going on strike, refusing to sell papers until Pulitzer and Hearst brought the price of the newspapers back down. A group of kids with barely a nickel to their name formed a union to fight against two of the biggest media tycoons of the day.

“I think that counts,” Katherine declared, flipping to the page that was paper-clipped to the paper. “‘Newsies Banner’,” she read aloud. “Also Katherine Plumber. ‘In the words of union leader, Jack Kelly’… Jack Kelly?” Why did that name sound familiar?

Katherine looked back at the stack of newspapers she’d gathered. Flipping through one of them, she landed on a cartoon of Theodore Roosevelt. In the corner, there was a scribbled J. Kelly.

There were a thousand J names, but it seemed unlikely that this was a different Kelly that had been mentioned in the Banner.

“Wait…” Flipping back to her list of journalists, she read the last name on the list. “Katherine Kelly… Any relation?” Looking back at the copy of the Sun, she scanned the photo of the newsies union, wondering which one of the boys could be Jack.

She paused at the young man standing in the middle, glaring at the camera. He had dark hair and an even darker scowl. Katherine was sure she’d never seen him before—how could she, if he lived in 1899?—but there was just something about him…

“Jack?” she whispered.

Suddenly, she was slammed with an onslaught of mental images. Not images, per se, more like… memories.

Crumpled papers fall from above. The start of their strike.

He’s an incorrigible flirt.

She pretends not to love it.

A rooftop kiss, filled with hope for beginnings, fear for endings. She wonders if he’ll leave her.

Victory. They win. He’s staying.

“For sure?”

“For sure.”

Her eyes flew open. “What. The. Hell?” she whispered.

Katherine couldn’t explain the way her heart was pounding, why her hands were shaking, or why she felt such a strong connection to some other Katherine Plumber and this Jack Kelly.

Shaking her head quickly, she picked up the copy of the Sun, the Newsies Banner, a handful of articles she’d found by Katherine Kelly, and shoved them all in her bag, stood and got the hell out of there.

*~*~*~*~*

Her deadline came and went without her noticing.

She spent the weekend thinking about Jack Kelly. She just… Couldn’t get him out of her head. Some seventeen-year-old kid, who was alive nearly a hundred years ago. Sure, she supposed he was handsome, but it was more than that. It was like… she’d been missing something her life, and suddenly found it, but didn’t know what it was.

It reminded her of a story her sister used to read her, a story about people who led multiple lives. Who came back time and time again as different people. And, sometimes, they had someone who came back with them. You could never have one without the other.

Could she and Jack…?

Katherine couldn’t shake the feeling that it could be possible.

And it was driving her crazy.

Finally, Monday rolled around again, and she had to face Darcy.

“Good morning, Katherine,” he greeted her when she walked into staff meeting. “Should I have picked you up this morning, or will you be taking notes for me?”

“Later,” Katherine insisted, hoping she didn’t appear as frazzled as she felt. She pulled her laptop out of her bag. “I have to show you something.”

“Like, my schedule for this week?” He teased, sitting next to her.

“Darcy.” Her tone made it clear this was the end of their conversation. Thankfully, he took the hint.

“Alright, people!” Their boss, Bryan Denton, walked in, calling for order. “Let’s put out a paper.”

After the meeting, Katherine made a detour to her desk to drop her bag and turn on her computer. As her computer booted on, she pulled out the articles she’d—well, stolen, for lack of better word. She was driving herself insane, staring at them over and over. Maybe Darcy could be of some help.

Once she’d logged in and cleared any important emails, Katherine crossed the floor to Darcy’s desk. He leaned back in his chair as she approached.

“Hey, Kath. Are you okay?”

“Look at this,” she placed the paper in front of him in lieu of answering. “Katherine Plumber. Same name.”

“So?” Darcy shrugged. “Is she one of your ten journalists?”

“Well, yeah. But that’s not the point. Katherine Plumber only wrote two ‘real’ articles. But then…” she put down a couple more articles from later editions of the Sun she’d found. “See? Katherine Kelly. She wrote about local unions, a couple of investigative reports.”

Darcy peered over his glasses at her. “I’m still not following, Kath.”

“I think she’s the same person. See, Katherine Plumber was blacklisted for writing the Newsies article. But then, she married Jack Kelly, the Newsies union leader… I think.” She pointed him out in the photo. “Katherine Kelly was never blacklisted, so she published under her married name.”

Instead of being impressed with her findings, Darcy had the audacity to look smug. “Well, if she’s the same person, then you only found nine female journalists and I win—”

Katherine slapped a hand down on his desk. “Darcy! That’s not the point!”

The smug look dropped from his face. “Then what is?”

“Darce… I think she’s me.”

Darcy rolled back in his chair. “You lost me again.”

“Do you think… it’s possible that…” Katherine wasn’t sure how to ask the question without sounding crazy. “Do you think reincarnation is possible?”

*~*~*~*~*

Katherine took her lunch early, feeling suffocated in the office. Darcy hadn’t believed her, not that she really expected him to. But she’d hoped for a little support.

He thought she was just tired, overworked. He told her she was reaching. “It’s just a coincidence, Kath,” he said. “You weren’t a reporter in 1899. You didn’t marry this Jack Kelly.” He went so far as to retract the bet. And while she was grateful she wouldn’t have to be Darcy’s secretary for two weeks, Katherine did not appreciate him treating her like a child.

It could be possible, right? That she and… Jack had met each other in different circumstances, in different lives? She couldn’t remember much—the memories from Friday were already fading. Struggling to recall anything, Katherine crossed her arms, and put her head down, taking a left outside the building and making her way down the busy sidewalk.

She’s not sure how long she walked, wrapped up in her thoughts, before she knocked shoulders with someone walking opposite of her.

Turning to apologize, Katherine looked up into the face of Jack Kelly.

“Sorry, miss,” he said, before shoving his hands in his pockets and continuing on his way.

She’s in Medda’s theatre, reviewing the show.

She’s in Jacobi’s, asks him about his union and his strike.

She writes her article, worries it’s not good enough.

She celebrates their front-page story with the other Newsies.

She encourages Jack to go back to the strike, to not give up, to fight for Crutchie.

She’s in her father’s office, holds back tears when she sees the betrayed look on Jack’s face.

She’s in the basement of the World, printing the Banner.

She’s in Newsies Square, basking in their victory.

And, just like that, every other past life is flashing in her mind’s eye.

***

Wanna Razzle?”

“Razzles are for kids,” she tries to say snootily, but he sees through it.

“Exactly.” He pours the candy in her hand, and she pops it in her mouth. They stick their tongues out at each other, giggling at the bright red color the candy turned them.

“Arrivederci.”

“Au revoir.”

***

“You’re a regular Prince Charming, aren’t you?”

“I have a name, you know.”

“Nope.” Names are dangerous. If she knows his name, she’ll get attached. She can’t afford to get attached. “Charming suits you.”

***

“I guess we surprised everyone.”

He laughs. It’s bittersweet. “I guess we did.” She drops her head to his chest. She can’t believe he’s leaving. “I’ll never be sorry,” he says softly.

She looks him in the eye. “Neither will I.”

***

And a dozen others, flickering past one another, blurring until she couldn’t see straight. Until she could only think one thing.

I have to find Jack.

#i def could've included a spit shake #still angry @ me for that #but anyways #found you #monstrosity fic #disney writes stuff #anon #pls come talk to me XD #i have many feelings about this monstrosity

5 notes · View notes