Crowded bodies. Rancid food. Rats. The whip. Jack started up from his bedroll as his eyes snapped open. It took him a moment to realize he was lying on the rooftop and not in the refuge. The refuge was shut down now. Spider was behind bars. He was safe.
But the pictures wouldn't fade.
Jack started to stir and realized that Crutchie was humming a quiet tune from his own bedroll. The poor guy never slept – said he had something called 'somnia – but he was careful never to wake Jack. Now he turned to look at his friend as he heard Jack wake, and Jack caught a glimpse of tear tracks running down his dirt-stained face in the moonlight. His jaw and hands were both clenched shut. Jack's own nightmares fled from his mind.
"Are you ok?" He asked, wiping sleep from his eyes and sitting up straight now.
Crutchie plastered a smile on his face and tried vainly to wipe away the tears. "I'm alright, just hummin'. Sorry if I woke you."
"You're not ok, you liar. What's wrong?"
"It's just me legs," Crutchie shrugged. He unclenched his hands now.
"Both of them? What's the matter wit your other leg?" Jack blurted. A second later, he bit his tongue. Crutchie never really talked about his disability openly, and he knew he shouldn't be so nosy, but he found himself curious now, if just to find out why his best friend was crying.
"Course you don't have to say so, if you don't wanna."
Crutchie laughed at Jack's tongue poking out from between his teeth. "Nah, I don't mind. Not wit you anyway. I had polio as a lil' kid. It didn't hurt my left leg near as bad as the right, but it's still sore from carrying me 'round all day. It's normal, really. I'll be fine."
"It hurts that bad, huh? Every night?"
"All the time, really. Night's just the worst. That's why I was hummin' – it's to distract myself, see? I've got a few nice songs now! I'm not a pity case," Crutchie frowned. "What has you up at this hour? Nightmares?"
Jack nodded and rooted through his bag for yesterday's papers he'd kept and a pencil. "I'm just going to draw for a bit. Don't let me bother you."
"Well, since you're up at this lovely hour of three 'o' clock in the morning, why don't you sit with me? I'll probably sing you to sleep, but I'll be glad for the company until then. Besides, the cityscape is rather pretty this time of night, with the stars hovering just over the buildings, see? I bet you could make a real nice picture of that." Crutchie smiled again, his real, lopsided smile this time.
"Thanks, Crutchie," Jack said as he settled down next to his friend.
"Yeah, no problem! Hey, my leg feels better already." He began a slow song that he had come up with the night before, singing just a bit louder and a bit deeper than normal. The melody of the haunting ballad drifted over the rooftop, hanging on the sweet warm summer air.
Jack paused in his sketching as Crutchie's song came to an end. "You could be on Broadway. You should ask Ms. Medda about having an act in her show!"
Crutchie laughed quietly, "Nah, really?"
"Would I kid you about that?"
"I suppose not," He paused and smiled at his friend, "Thanks Jack! That means a lot." Jack smiled back and rested his drooping head on Crutchie's shoulder.
Specs found them the next morning, sleeping on top of each other and still sitting up against the railing. He considered spooking them for a second, then though better to not wake up the two sleepyheads. He decided to go annoy Elmer and Race instead. They always took the longest to wake and complained the loudest, and the circulation bell would be ringing soon. It was a new day, and it was looking good.