Archive of Our Own ^beta

When they got down from the rooftop, Jango and Satine made their way to the Kenobi residence, and Satine snuck up the fire escape, leaving Jango at the bottom.

She tapped at the window. “Pst, Obi-Wan. Over here.”

He climbed out of the window to join her on the fire escape and beckoned her up onto the roof.

“Anakin and our parents are asleep, so we can’t be too loud. Do you have any idea how we can move forward?”

“I spoke to Jango.”

“Satine—”

“I know, Obi-Wan. You don’t have to forgive him. But please at least hear him out?”

“Fine,” Obi-Wan exhaled. “I take it he’s here?”

“At the bottom of the fire escape,” Satine admitted.

Obi-Wan went over and beckoned him up. When Jango got to the top he attempted a smile. Obi-Wan looked back at him, face blank and arms crossed.

“First of all, I’m really very sorry,” Jango began. “That was a lousy thing to do, and it put you in a rough spot, and I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan jerked his head in a tiny nod.

“Do you want me to explain why I did it?”

Another tiny nod.

Jango let out a breath. “I went to invite Dooku to the rally. I know, it was a stupid idea. But I did. In his office was Grievous, both Rogers, and the mayor. I didn’t— They threatened Myles, they threatened Anakin, they threatened you by name! Myles’s already in the Citadel, I sure as hell couldn’t let them take Ani too. The money was— I didn’t do it for the money, Obi-Wan. I did it for you, and Anakin. And maybe I made the wrong choice, but that was why I did it. I’m sorry.”

Obi-Wan unfolded a little with the explanation.

Satine added, “Jango was also ambushed by something else in Dooku’s office. You know how Kryze is a nom de plume? Dooku is my father.”

“Dooku’s what?” Satine’s admission shocked Obi-Wan out of his rare silence.

“I don’t like him either,” she pleaded. “I’m on your side.”

“I noticed,” muttered Obi-Wan, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. “Okay. Fine. I don’t forgive you right now, but I get why you did it. What are we going to do next?”

Jango looked at Satine. Satine handed Obi-Wan her notepad.

“The Children’s Crusade. You’re making this about every working kid in New York.”

“Her father has an old printing press in the cellar, I slept on it last night. We can print it on that. Then we distribute it to all workers under 21, and then, well, after that it’s up to them.”

Obi-Wan skimmed the rest of Satine’s article. “This could actually work, you know?” Then he glanced at Jango. “You know what you have to do first, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to talk to the newsies. I’ve got an apology to make.” He paused. “Any hints?”

“Quinlan’s heartbroken. Fox’s furious. We finally convinced him we wouldn’t fold, he brought over Brooklyn, then you do this? You’re going to have to grovel.”

Jango grimaced. “Yeah.”

Satine cleared her throat. “I’ll go talk to some friends who can help with the printing press. Meet in Newsies Square at midnight?”

“We’ll be there.”

Satine left.

Jango turned to follow, but Obi-Wan grabbed his hand.

“Hey. We can win this. Together.”

Jango returned his smile. “I’m glad to be back.”