Enjoy my unedited garbage :)
A biting cold breeze stung Crutchie's cheeks as he and Jack trudged through the thick layer of snow on the ground on their way back to the Newsboy Lodging House.
"Sales ain't doin' too good now, huh? It's too cold, an' everyone's indoors," Jack said, kicking up a pile of snow.
Crutchie nodded, pulling the coat around him tighter, "Heh, yup."
They didn't say anything more as they made their way to the lodging house. When they arrived there, Crutchie noticed that Jack's cheeks and nose were flushed red from the cold, and he was shivering. Crutchie stopped in front of the door and turned to Jack, "Ya really didn't have ta give your coat to me. I can tell you'se freezin'."
Jack shrugged, "I'se fine, Crutch. Keep da coat."
Crutchie frowned, "Jack! You'se gonna get sick!"
"Nah, I won't get sick. I got a strong immune system," Jack grinned.
"Remind me what an immune system is again?"
Jack chuckled, opening the door to the lodging house, "Neva mind."
As they stepped inside the doorway, they were greeted by Race and a few other Newsies. "Hey, Jack, Crutchie! You'se back! How'd it go?" Race asked.
"Not to well," Jack began. "It was way too cold-"
Then, Jack made a sound that he rarely ever made. He coughed. HE COUGHED.
All of the Newsies gasped in unison, their eyes as round as quarters and their jaws dropped to their chest. Crutchie was shocked. Jack coughed. Coughing equals sickness. Jack, their almighty strike leader, was sick. How could this happen? Crutchie wondered in a panic.
"What? I just coughed, why are y'all starin' at me like dat?" Jack said, rolling his eyes.
"Jack..," Race started slowly. "You'se sick..."
"I coughed," Jack sighed.
"Ya neva cough!" Romeo piped up from behind Race.
A chorus of agreement arose from the rest of the Newsies.
"Well, me thinks ya oughta lie down," Crutchie limped over to Jack, pushing everyone else out of the way. "Come on," he said, grabbing Jack's arm and leading him to the room where his bunk was.
"Crutch! I'se fine, really! It was just a cough!" Jack protested as Crutchie dragged him off.
"Bed," Crutchie insisted, shoving Jack onto his bunk. "Also, coat," he took the coat off himself and wrapped it around Jack. Then, he pulled the covers up to Jack's chin.
Jack groaned, "Really, ya don't have ta do this! I'se-"
Jack coughed again. And then again. Two coughs in a row. That's double the sickness.
Crutchie stared at Jack in bewilderment, "Ya coughed twice! Dat's three coughs in total now! Stay under da covers, Jack; let me take care of ya."
"Crutchie-"
"SSSSHHHH," Crutchie hushed him. "I'SE YA MUDDUH NOW."
And with that, he limped away to update the Newsies on Jack's condition.
"How's Jack?"
"DO WE NEEDS A DOCTA?"
"Is Jack dyin'?"
"HE'S TOO YOUNG TA DIE."
"SETTLE DOWN, FELLAS!" Crutchie waved his arms to silence everyone. "I really don't think Jack's gonna die, but we still needs to keep an eye on him anyways."
"What else do ya think we should do?" Henry called out.
Crutchie thought for a moment, then said, "I has an idea. Last year when I was sick, Jack gave me dis thing called "canned soup". It was like soup, but from a can! Anyways, after I had some of dat, I felt much betta. Me thinks Jack still has some canned soup unda his bed, so once I find it, I can give it to him, and he won't be sick anymore!"
The Newsies all clapped and cheered, and Crutchie beamed proudly. Then, he went back to the room Jack was in, determined to complete his quest to heal his brother.
Jack was dozing, so Crutchie was quiet as he knelt down as best as he could with one leg and peered into the realm of dust that was under Jack's bunk. Spotting the sillhouette of a can, Crutchie grabbed it and grinned to himself as he pulled it out and blew a thin layer of dust off the lid. He studied the can for a second. How da hell do ya open dis? he thought to himself as he poked at the lid. Then, he had an idea. He looked around for something sharp until his eyes rested on the pencils on Jack's bedside table. "Hope ya don't mind dis, Jack. It's for your own good, anyways," Crutchie muttered, grabbing the pencil that looked the least used.
Using the pencil, Crutchie stabbed as hard as he could at the lid of the canned soup, making a tiny hole. He did this over and over, until he had made dozens of tiny holes in the lid. Now, how does I make Jack drink dis? Crutchie thought. He smirked when a solution came to mind. Crutchie grabbed Jack's chin and pulled it down, causing his mouth to open. Then, he turned the can upside down and watched the soup pour through the holes he had made and then into Jack's mouth. This woke Jack up. "WHAT THE HELL, CRUTCH. WHADDYA THINK YER DOIN'?" he shouted, immediately sitting up.
Jack eyed the can of soup, "THAT'S A YEAR OLD!"
Crutchie giggled nervously, "Oh, yeah, right!
"Just don't try an' get outta bed," he said, pushing Jack so he could lay down.
A small smile appeared on the corners of Jack's lips as he shook his head, "Well, I guess I ain't got no choice but to stay here."
Crutchie giggled again, nodding, "I'se comin' back later." Then, he left the bedbound boy to once agian update the other Newsies on Jack.
When Crutchie came back to the front room where everyone else was, he noticed someone was missing. He blinked, "Someone's missin'."
"Race left. He said he was gonna get someone dat could help Jack!" Romeo informed him.
Just then, the door opened to reveal Race and another person. Davey. The taller boy's hair was ruffled, like he just woke up, and his jacket was half on. He looked confused as Race grabbed his arm and dragged him into the lodging house.
"RACE, why is Davey here?" Crutchie questioned.
Race smirked, "Hey! I figured Davey was smart, so maybe he could tell us what's up with Jack!"
"What?" Davey's expression turned from confusion to slight concern. "Something's wrong with Jack?"
Crutchie nodded, "He's sick. Follow me." He motioned for Davey to follow him as he limped over to the room Jack was in.
Jack sat up when he saw Davey. "Hey, Davey!" he grinned.
Davey smiled, "Hey, Jack. Everyone's saying your sick, but you don't really look sick..."
"Oh, yeah," he chuckled. "They'se overreacting. I'se just coughin' a bit. Ya know, 'cause of da cold wheather and all."
"Just coughing?" Davey asked, turning to Crutchie. "That's it?"
"Well, yeah... But ya see, Jack neva coughs!"
Davey slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Just because someone's coughing doesn't automatially mean they're sick! Even if they rarely cough!"
Crutchie processed this for a moment, then shrugged, "Oh well. I guess your da smart one here." He turned to Jack, "Jack, you can get up now, as long as you're sure you're okay."
"I'se fine, Crutch!" Jack laughed. "Remember, I got a strong immune system."
"JACK, I STILL DUNNO WHAT DAT IS..."
"Well, an immune system-" Davey began, but Jack cut him off.
"NEVA MIND..."
DID YA LIKE IT? Tell me in a review! If you want me to do another Newsies story like this, but more serious, let me know because I really love reviews (imsodesperate)