From the moment they first met, Jack hardly took his eyes off of him. It started out as curiosity, interest in how the boy not much younger than himself learned so quickly to get around on his own as soon as he were given the proper tools to do so. A single wooden crutch, so simple in make yet so indispensable to the person utilizing it that it changed his life. Jack watched as he went from clinging to his side, to standing proudly on his own, defiant to a world that would otherwise dismiss him as something beyond help, something broken and useless. No, the boy was anything but, and he took every opportunity to prove this, until the other newsies came to believe it as fact.
When he was given his name, Jack watched as he took it with pride, at first afraid he might find offense or ill-intent in it. But instead, the boy took it as affection, a reminder of the tool that helped mobilize him, that gave him independence and freedom. It was his signature, and he was determined to make it mean something.
Jack watched as Crutchie grew healthier, becoming less skin and bones and gaining muscle from working every day. He was so small when Jack took him in, it was incredible to watch as someone so frail turned into someone who could hold his own. And he did it all himself, pushing through the hard days and coming out on top. Nothing was going to hold him back or push him down, no disability or sickness or lack of faith from others. He was going to push through, no matter how much kicking and screaming it would take along the way.
Though he was afraid it would never happen, Jack watched as Crutchie learned to smile. The boy who had started out as so scared and distrustful of the world turned into a boy who could cheer even the gloomiest of people up, simply by flashing a grin made of pure sunshine. He learned to joke and laugh and tease and enjoy life to the fullest, even when it seemed the odds were stacked against him. No amount of bad days or hungry nights could take away that smile, and as long as Jack could be around to see it, he knew his life would forever be full.
But in spite of that, there were bad days too. Jack would watch with ever growing worry as the days grew colder, and Crutchie's smile would shift ever so slightly. He watched on the days where everyone could see Crutchie was struggling more to walk, and the cold left him with a chill no amount of layers could keep out. Jack was helpless to stop it, and eventually he watched as sickness took over his friend once again.
Jack stayed by his side as long as he could, only leaving to sell his papers as quickly as possible, returning to him the moment he finished. Crutchie spent most of this time sleeping, or in feverish delusions. Jack would simply assure him that everything was okay, that he would be better soon and back out selling the papers in no time. He watched as Crutchie would smile, and make some attempt at a joke before falling back asleep. Even at night time Jack wouldn't leave him, curling up in the bed next to him and hardly sleeping out of concern that the kid would wake up and need him. He watched over him every night, until his eyelids simply couldn't be held open any longer.
But as all things do, the sickness eventually passed, and Jack watched with eagerness as Crutchie grew better, stronger. He was overjoyed when the day finally came that Crutchie was well enough to return to work, practically attached to him at the hip out of protective instinct towards him until Jack was sure he would make a full recovery.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and before Jack knew it he was watching Crutchie grow up. Within the blink of an eye that ten-year-old boy was suddenly fourteen, and Jack couldn't always be there to watch over him anymore.
Crutchie grew up to be independent and resilient. Despite the sickness that was sure to hit him every winter, Crutchie never allowed himself to slow down. He grew more and more averse to being looked after, wanting nothing more than to be able to look after himself. Though it was hard, Jack understood this and would take a few steps back, letting his friend carry his own weight, all the while watching with pride as he proved again and again that he was more than up for the challenge.
Another year rolled by, and life grew more serious. It was less about fun and games and more about staying alive. The older they got the less easy it became to sell papers to customers, having grown out of their adorable kid phase and into that of soon to be young adults. Jack's skill alone at charm kept him above the water, and Crutchie had become excellent at playing up the pity factor, as much as he secretly hated it. As hard as days got, they never truly drowned in them, and Jack watched on with growing certainty that they were going to be okay.
That is, until the summer of 1899 happened, and Jack watched as their world was turned upside down. New bonds were formed, and strides were made, but that didn't take away from the horrors that still haunted those days.
Jack could remember it, clear as day. He watched as his friends around him were beaten and bruised, as they ran in fear at the sight of an enemy they weren't prepared to take on. He watched as Crutchie, his dearest friend, was reduced to a trembling heap on the ground, as strike after strike was made against him with the very tool that was supposed to give him freedom. He watched as Crutchie cried for help, for his closest friend in the world, but Jack didn't move, couldn't move. He watched with growing horror as they dragged Crutchie away, screaming for him. Jack was certain he screamed too.
The world was colorless without him by his side. An empty canvas neglected by the very paint that was supposed to bring it to life. Those were the most agonizing days of his life, and Jack could only imagine how much worse they were for Crutchie.
Even still, he watched as things moved on. The world kicking him one last time before finally granting him some shred of hope, and with ever growing excitement, Jack watched as the world fell back into place. He watched as his friends cheered in triumph around him, and most importantly, he watched as the one person he wanted to see more than anyone stepped back into his life, that smile spread across his face as if it never left him.
Even still, Jack had to watch the aftermath of that event, and the nights that plagued his friend because of it. The first weeks were the worst, almost every night interrupted by his screaming and flailing. Jack did his best to sooth him; God knows he knew what those terrors felt like. And eventually, as the days moved on, Jack watched as Crutchie's sleep became less disturbed, until one night, he finally slept peacefully without interruption.
Five years had gone by since that fateful day when they met, but to Jack it felt like a lifetime. He couldn't believe all the things he had witnessed; all the smiles of delight, and frowns of frustration. All the tears of joy, and tears of pain. Every argument made and complaint bitten back, Jack had watched them all. And he hoped to continue to watch them for as long as he lived.
Because maybe, just maybe, the feelings he felt weren't false, and that maybe they were even shared. But he couldn't be certain. He would simply wait until the time was right, and when that time came, when he took that leap to something more, something greater than he had ever experienced, he would keep his eyes wide open, ready to watch whatever life chose to show him next.