Chapter Text
July, 1893.
Daniel Herman, freshly eleven years old and very proud of it, had only been working as a newsie for a few months when Weisel- who ran the distribution window for Manhattan- brought in two scruffy looking kids to be what he deemed ‘backup muscle’.
Daniel liked to think it was for him; he was the newest, after all. Nevermind that he had never so much as hit someone before, or that he always did exactly what he was told… no, surely he was the reason Weisel felt so intimidated.
The new kids were hardly threatening, anyhow. Sure, they were mean looking, but the older one couldn’t have been older than thirteen, and the younger one looked sickly enough that a cough might’ve knocked him out. The only thing that really intrigued Daniel about them was the way they interacted, like they could speak through their minds. Daniel didn’t think magic was real, but maybe these boys were magical. It seemed a logical explanation for a young boy who had never even imagined what it might be like to have a sibling.
The smaller of the two boys was the more compelling to Daniel, who had come to learn that his name was Oscar. Oscar was short but stocky, and, unlike his aloof brother, seemed to wear a permanent scowl. But still… his eyes were a soft, deep brown that reminded Daniel of the maple syrup his father used to tap from the trees upstate; Daniel wasn’t one to think of anyone- let alone boys- as pretty, but it seemed a perfectly suitable word for Oscar Delancey.
He’d soon find out that a lot of words suited Oscar Delancey.
And Oscar Delancey suited him.