Chapter Text
Crutchie got up bright and early the next morning, rising before the sun and feeling well-rested for the first time in weeks. Despite his skin still looking more like a patchwork quilt than human skin with its bruises pattern, he found his pain was starting to quell. Sure, he was still achy, but the wounds began to distract him less, and he was willing to consider anything an improvement. He sat up, stretching out his limbs experimentally as he watched Spot fasten his suspenders across the room.
"You'se up early," Crutchie mumbled absently, reaching down to rub his bad ankle wearily.
"Places to be," Spot replied, shrugging as he sat on the sofa and began to lace up his boots. "Can I walk with ya back to Manhattan this mornin'?"
"You goin' cause I need an escort or cause you wanna see Race?"
Spot's cheeks grew red, and he focused intently on forming the rabbit ears of his laces. Crutchie snickered to himself, hopping out of bed and moving across the room to get his aid.
"Course you can walk with me, Spot," Crutchie said more seriously, a kind smile on his face. Spot nodded, standing from the sofa.
"Well, then let's get goin'!"
///
The walk to Manhattan was quiet and peaceful, primarily due to Spot and Crutchie being up and moving before the majority of the world had even opened its eyes. They made it to the Manhattan lodging house before the majority of the newsboys had departed. As a swarm of boys made their way out of the lodge, Crutchie made his way in-- only to be greeted by a horrifying sight.
"Jack? The hell happened to ya?"
It was Spot who asked aloud, not Crutchie, but they shared the same look of distress upon seeing Jack's face. A fresh wound marred the surface of his forehead, and his upper lip was puffy and red. His nose sported a bruise, and his movements were stiff, stilted even with the surprising speed with which he turned to face Spot and Crutchie.
"Oh, thank god, Crutch! You'se back!"
Jack rushed at Crutchie, his arms outspread, but Crutchie took a step to the side, dodging the embrace.
"No, no hug, Jack- what the hell happened to your face?"
"That doesn't matter- what matters is you'se home safe. God, Crutch, it's good to see you-"
"No. Jack, I'm bein' serious. What did you do?"
Jack's smile, full formerly at seeing Crutchie, wilted abruptly. His mouth crumbled into a twisted line, his brows falling. For a second, he seemed sad but then became angry.
"I went out tryna find you since you didn't bother showin' up last night. What the hell was I supposed to think, Crutch-"
"What-"
"Who did you fight?" Spot interrupted suddenly, stepping forward.
"It doesn't concern you, Spot." Jack responded, spitting Spot's name out of his mouth harshly.
"Hey, he's just-" Crutchie started, but was cut off by Jack.
"The hell are you doin' here anyway, Spot?"
"I'se just droppin' by to see how the 'Hattan boys doin' since the strike was settled. See if you stepped back up after abandonin' them in the middle of it-"
"Don't you fuckin-"
"Jesus! Stop!"
And there was Davey at the door, always the voice of reason, crying at the top of his lungs. Spot, Jack, and Crutchie fell silent immediately, and Davey took his fingers. working them over the arched bridge of his nose with exasperation and exhaustion.
"... where's Les?"
"I sent him with Romeo again," Davey said to Crutchie, sounding frustrated. "I could hear the screaming match from outside. I don't want you guys scaring my little brother."
"Sorry, Dave-"
"Stop, please," Davey cut off Jack, putting his hands on his hips. "Now, we's gonna go work this out on the rooftop, so I don't have to listen to you fight anymore. Understood?"
Jack stared down at the ground, and Spot crossed his arms, but they both nodded at the same time as Crutchie did. Awkwardly, they followed Davey out of the lodge and out to the fire escape. Spot started up the ladder first, and Jack was set to go behind him, but, instead, he turned to Crutchie, eyes filled with concern.
"Do you need me to-"
"Jesus fuckin' Christ, Kelly! Take a hint for once and-"
"Enough!" Davey shouted.
"I'm fine, Jack." Crutchie bit out, his jaw tense.
Jack frowned, but turned back to the ladder and made his way up. Crutchie offered his aid to Davey, and they made their way up following the other two. The creak of the ladder under their combined weight was a jarring sound in the sickening silence hanging over them, all riff with tension. When they reached the rooftop, Davey moved a few spare crates into a square formation so they could all sit and look at each other. The scrape of the wood across the ground was almost haunting.
They sat for a long time, each boy fidgeting absently as none of them knew what to say. They could hear the world starting to awaken further, progressing with the movements of people outside, and distant noises of the trolley. The morning bell rang out, causing Davey to sigh. His hands still, his gaze drifting upwards from his shaking hands to glance around at the other three boys.
"So, who wants to go first?" Davey prompted, looking uncomfortable despite being the one to initiate the conversation. When no one responded, he sighed again, this time more annoyed than resigned. "Fine. I'll go then.
"Look, I know I'm… well, I'm still learning the ropes of being a newsie, but I know this isn't how you're supposed to be treating each other. Constant screaming matches, getting in fights unprompted," Davey said, glaring at Jack and then turning to Crutchie to say, "Disappearing for a whole night."
"He knew where I was!" Crutchie protested, but Davey didn't acknowledge him.
"This whole thing is getting ridiculous. You two are supposed to be best friends. You need to communicate with each other."
"I tried ," Crutchie responded, sounding exhausted. "I tried to get him to just- just let me do what I needed to do. I'se don't want anyone tellin' me what to do, and I don't want anyone treatin' me differently just cause I'se got locked up in the Refuge. I'se fine-"
"But you ain't," Jack interjected, causing Crutchie to grit his teeth. "You ain't fine, and you won't let us help. You'se hurt-"
"At least I didn't get myself hurt in some stupid fight over nothin'-"
"Stop," Spot interrupted. "Stop bickerin’. This is dumb."
After a long moment, Crutchie continued.
"I know you mean well, Jack, I do. You always mean well. But I can take care'a myself," he said, eyes suddenly glassy. "I thought you believed that. I thought I'd come back, and some others might treat me different, but I didn't think you would, and-"
"Crutchie-"
"Let him talk, Jack," Davey said calmly. Jack swallowed thickly but stayed silent.
"I-I don't want to be treated differently," Crutchie said, the tears in his eyes seeming to disappear as his eyes hardened into a look of anger. "I want bein' different to be on my own terms; ain't nobody's right to decide if I am or not but mine. I wanna talk about what happened to me when I wants to, not cause I have to. They's my feelings-- it's my hurt, and I should get to choose when to talk about it. I need- I need to deal with it how I wanna. It's my life; no one should be makin' my decisions for me. I'm gonna be an adult soon, for Christ's sake. I need ta be treated like one."
Jack swallowed again, eyes fixated on the flexing of his hand in and out of a fist as he thought on Crutchie's words. Before he knew it, all eyes were on him. He looked up, blushing slightly.
"I didn't… It's not that I don't think you can take care of yourself," Jack said desperately. "I just- I wanna help you, cause I care about you. And I failed you, and-"
"You didn't fail me, Jack, you-"
"Let 'im talk," Spot said, placing a hand on Crutchie's knee. Crutchie nodded and fell silent.
Jack let the quiet engulf him for a long moment, almost wishing it would swallow him so he could leave the conversation. His cheeks were burning, and his eyes were glued to the roof's surface as he continued speaking.
"I let down everyone in the strike, not just you. I-I abandoned everyone, and I let you get hurt cause I'se scared-- I can't deal with that. Everyone's lookin' to me to be the leader again, but I don't deserve it. I was a coward. I can't let you down like that again. I ain't gonna let anyone down again, no matter what it costs me. I need to step up 'nd be the guy people need me to be."
"Jack?"
Jack's head shot up, startled at Spot's addressing him. Spot's voice was perhaps the most genuine Jack had ever heard it.
"Lemme... lemme gives you a word of-of advice," Spot said, stammering slightly. He looked a little uncomfortable but settled into his usual confidence quickly. "From one borough leader to another, yeah? They don't put ya in charge if they don't trust you. You fucked up, yeah, but they trust you to be better. But they also trust you to be you."
"I don't understand-"
"I'm not the leader of Brooklynn cause I'm tough, Jack. All the Brooklynn boys got that. I'm the leader cause the boys there know what to expect from me, and they trust me to do what's best for 'em. Watchin' 'em like a hawk ain't what's best-- given' them leeway, but watchin' their backs? That's what they need. And that's what the 'Hatten boy's need too. They don't need ya takin' bullets for them, or nursing wounds they wanna take care'a themselves. They just need your support."
Jack stared at Spot, a look of bafflement plain on his face.
"I know, I'se smarter than you thought," Spot scoffed, trying to lighten the mood. "I get it a lot. You don't gotta say it."
Jack laughed half-heartedly, nodding.
"Yeah," he spoke. "I just… It's hard to balance. I wanna protect them-- I wanna protect you," he made eye contact with Crutchie, "but I get so caught up in what I think I'm supposed to be doin', I don't pay attention to what you want. And that's… that's all on me to fix, ain't it?"
"Nah," Crutchie sighed. "I need to work on it too. I need to accept some help, I just… I get defensive. I don't mean ta, but I do. I don't wanna need help, but I sometimes do. It's…"
"There's a balance to be found," Davey supplied, looking oddly relieved. "And you can find it, so long as you continue to talk about this stuff. It's not one and done; you gotta keep being honest. Over and over."
"I hate when you call me kid," Crutchie said suddenly, his eyes widening almost like he did not mean to say it aloud. His cheeks flushed, and his eyes flickered around for a moment before he settled, then continued. "I know you don't mean any harm by it, but I ain't a kid, and I don't wanna be called one."
"Then I'll stop," Jack conceded, surprisingly calmly. "Anything- anything you need me to do, I'll do my damndest to do it for you."
"Sometimes you don't gotta do anything for me," Crutchie responded, looking at Jack seriously. "Sometimes I just… I want you to be my friend instead of my protector. If I need help-- hell, not even if I need it, if I want it, you'd be the first person I ask. But just… wait for me to need it before you offer it? I want… I need to be able to make that decision for myself.
"It's like… I don't know. It's like you've always been savin' me and just- for once-- I wanna save myself. This is a hole I know I can dig myself outta. I need to do this one on my own. I need to know I'm capable. I need to prove it, for once, instead'a just sayin' it-"
"Crutch, you don't have to prove anythin', we know you can do anythin' you-"
"But I can't, really, can I? I haven't ever really done any of that shit. I always get saved before I can stand up for myself-"
"Hey, that's not true, and I know that. You beat the shit out of me with your crutch the first time we met. You can stand up for yourself plenty," Spot lightly laughed as he spoke, jabbing Crutchie with his elbow playfully.
"What?" Davey exclaimed, seeming confused.
"Uh- it's a story I'll tell ya if ya come down for cards in Brooklyn sometime; ain't important now," Spot responded, shaking his head slightly. Crutchie snickered, then let the serious mood return.
"I guess that's fair. I'se just… I don't know. I feel like I haven't done near as much as some of the other boys have for this place. I wanna… I wanna do enough."
Jack looked at Crutchie sadly, his lips twisting into a frown.
"You don't have to do anything to be enough," he said, reaching across the circle, taking Crutchie's hands in his and running his thumbs over his knuckles.
"The same goes for you, Jackie. You do plenty for us," Crutchie responded, squeezing Jack's hands. “It’s okay to fail sometimes. We’ll still love ya.”
Jack let out a shuddering breath, his head sagging to his chest, and his eyes falling closed. Crutchie released his hand, crossing the circle and holding Jack around the shoulders tightly, humming softly. Jack felt tears begin to cascade down his cheeks, soaking the hem of Crutchie's shirt, who stayed there, not caring about the newfound dampness. Davey came over too, enveloping Jack and Crutchie from the side, and Spot placed a hand on each of their shoulders, patting them comfortingly.
"We's gonna be okay," Crutchie mumbled in Jack's neck, his voice quivering slightly as his eyes welled. "It's just gonna take time."
///
The rest of the day passed quickly, and it was relatively uneventful. Crutchie sold his papers with ease, and his sore body was surprisingly kind to him, given its battered state and the lack of rest he was giving it. Still, when night fell and he made his way to the lodge (having recruited Specs to grab him dinner from Jacobi's so he could head straight home), Crutchie knew he was pushing himself too far. He managed to make it to the lodge, collapsing tiredly onto a bed near the door.
He laid in silence, staring up at the wood of the bunk bed above him and focusing on his breathing. It put a subtle strain on his ribs; an ache which reminded him of how much he had fought to make it here.
He heard the door creak open but figured it was another newsboy that would most likely leave him be, so he remained still as he listened to the footsteps (much sharper than a noise produced by a work boot) approach him.
"I heard you and Jack made up," Katherine stated plainly, sitting on a bed across from him. She did not say anything further, but Crutchie could feel her eyes on him. He pushed himself up slowly, looking at her with his eyes half-lidded.
"Yeah, we talked it out. But that's not why you're here, is it?"
Katherine smiled nervously, looking at Crutchie with an unreadable expression.
"Nah, you got me. Good work!"
Crutchie smiled back, working slowly on repositioning himself to a more comfortable sitting position. He bounced slightly, adjusting his leg as he asked, "So, what's up?"
Katherine stared at him intently, as though studying his every move. Crutchie shrank slightly under her watch, but when she noticed his reaction, her face flushed, casting her eyes downwards.
"Uh- sorry, habit. I'm used to observing people for my articles-- but you probably get stared at enough, don't you?"
"Uh… yeah, I do," Crutchie responded, somewhat startled by her bluntness. "So, what did you need..?"
"Look," she said, playing with her skirt absently for a moment and then meeting his eyes a little forcibly. "I know we didn't really… have much time to get to know each other before you were arrested. But, I wanted you to know that I want to be here for you, okay? I don't want to neglect my friendship with you just because I already know everyone else better. I want to support you in any way I can."
Crutchie's eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. Her smile faltered momentarily, but then Crutchie grinned at her, and her smile returned to its full glory.
"I appreciate that, Katherine," Crutchie replied. "That's real sweet of ya. It means a lot, 'specially comin' from… ya know, an upper-class girl. I'm glad you'se here for us. All 'a us."
"Happy to be here! If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask." She responded, standing up from the bed and brushing off her skirt, though it was not dirty. "I really should be going- it's getting pretty late out there, and I should head home."
"You need someone to walk ya home?" Crutchie asked, half kidding and perfectly aware of the irony in his asking.
"Do you?" She responded with a snarky twist to her lips.
With that, she disappeared from Crutchie's sight. A few moments later, he heard the door creak open, and he was left alone again with his thoughts.
///
When Crutchie awoke sometime later, it was abrupt. He did not recall having dreams but awoke, gasping, as though he had been drowning in them. His body was soaked in sweat. An onslaught of memories washed over him as he sat up, sucking air into his lungs in hot gasps. He focused, furrowing his brows and working to calm himself, to even his breaths.
When he reopened his eyes, he began to take in the lodge around him. Crutchie was not sure exactly how long he had been asleep, but it seemed to have been a while. Snoozing newsies now filled the beds around him, and the windows were dark. He could hear the chirping of a cricket that had somehow made its way into the lodge in the distance, and he found it oddly comforting.
Pushing himself off the bed, which he noticed absently was not the one he usually slept in and thanked whoever typically slept here for being so kind as to leave him to it for the night, he felt an ache in his chest. He stilled, thinking the pain over-- he could tell it was not related to any of his healing wounds, so, for a moment, he could not identify its cause. Sitting on the edge of the bed in silence, listening only to the deep inhales and exhales of the sleeping room, it dawned on him.
He wanted to be held. He wanted to be wrapped in the arms of another boy, being shushed of his fears and told everything would be all right. He wanted to be comforted. He wanted…
Well, he wanted Jack.
He sighed to himself briefly at the notion, with lips pulling into a gentle smirk as he indulged himself. Glancing to the beds around him, he found Jack nowhere near the one he found himself on, and his heart swelled. Jack was listening. And now, Crutchie got to seek after him.
He pushed himself up from the bed, grabbing his aid and standing. He moved across the room quietly, roaming to where he usually slept. When Jack slept in the lodge, he usually bunked above Crutchie. Finding his usual bed unoccupied, Crutchie hooked his good foot against the bottom of it, lifting himself upwards to peer at (hopefully) Jack.
The face of the boy in the bed was not turned to Crutchie, but he could tell by the coiled blond hair it was undoubtedly not Jack. He was about to drop back down to the floor when the figure rolled over, rubbing its face groggily as it turned to face Crutchie with half-open lids.
"You'se lookin' for Jack?" Race asked, his voice surprisingly scratchy despite its high pitch.
"Yeah, you seen 'im?" Crutchie whispered back, softly grinning as he caught sight of the cigar half-tucked under Race's pillow.
"He's on the rooftop," Race responded, pushing himself up on his elbows. "You want help gettin' up there?"
"Hm… Yeah, probably a good idea," Crutchie obliged, willing to acknowledge his body's soreness since Racetrack asked instead of forcing the help upon him.
"Alright. Gimme a sec, will ya?"
Crutchie hopped back to the floor, wincing slightly at the pain it brought up in his ribs when his body jolted upon landing. He figured he'd probably have to take tomorrow off after how hard he had been pushing his body. Sure, his mottled face had made selling papers a breeze, but he was starting to feel the consequences truly. He had been able to push himself through the pain by sheer determination alone, refusing to let anyone, even his best friend, treat him as a child. But now, with the argument settled, he found that losing his anger was making it a lot harder to focus on something other than the aches echoing through his body.
Race eventually crawled out of his bunk, stretching his limbs experimentally. He nodded to Crutchie as he slapped a cap on his mess of hair and started towards the door, Crutchie trailing behind him. They made their way outside, taking a short moment to stare up at the blue night sky before going to the fire ladder. Crutchie passed his aid off to Race and gripped the sides of the ladder, allowing Race to assist him in getting his foot slotted up on the first rung. Slowly, they made their way up, Crutchie hopping from bar to bar with Race positioned just below him, helping to carry his aid and support Crutchie if he lost his footing.
Jack was asleep when they made it to the top, curled up on the beat-up mattress he had dragged up there years ago. Crutchie took his aid back from Race, who glanced between Jack and Crutchie knowingly, but not saying a word.
"You all good?" He asked, looking Crutchie over as the boy sat down on one of the crates on the rooftop. "Cause if not, we could talk about it..?"
"Nah, but thank you, Race."
Race nodded and then turned, taking back to the ladder and starting down it. He disappeared briefly from Crutchie's sight before popping back up, just his face visible.
"Yeah?" Crutchie asked, somewhat unsettled.
"Goodnight," Race smiled, then mumbled under his breath, "lovebirds."
He ducked back out of sight as Crutchie scoffed, trying to ignore the slight blush he found spreading on his cheeks. He looked off at the sky for a moment, only to be alerted by the sound of Jack shifting on the mattress, waking up.
"...Crutch? Whatcha doin' up here?" Jack asked, barely awake. He rolled over haphazardly, tumbling off the mattress's side and onto the hard brick of the ceiling. He grunted, his bruises from his fight with the Delancey's the night before jostled.
"I wanted to see the stars," Crutchie responded with a shrug.
"You coulda seen those from the street."
"Yeah, maybe so. Ain't as nice, though, is it?"
Jack smiled, shaking his head no. He floundered momentarily, getting himself back onto the mattress in a sitting position and patting the space next to him.
"Sit with me?" He asked, and Crutchie obliged, taking a seat and letting his aid clatter to the rooftop's surface tiredly.
The music of the city filled their ears- the whispers of the wind and the chirping of crickets, all far off but comforting. Crutchie let his head fall to the side, resting on Jack's shoulder as they gazed out at the stars, each of them twinkling kindly in the perfect New York sky. Though Jack would say it had nothing on Santa Fe, it was still beautiful. Their breathing slowed, synchronized, and, for the first time since the strike began, the two felt truly at peace.
"Hey, Jack?" Crutchie asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
"Yeah?"
Crutchie hesitated, letting the night air flow around them again for a long moment. He listened to Jack's breathing, the repetitive pace of the beating of his heart. Crutchie sighed, closing his eyes.
"When I was in the Refuge…"
///