So, I don't think there is a fansie on the planet who didn't absolutely LOVE Letter from the Refuge. I personally think that this song should have been there from the beginning, but I'm so glad they put it in now rather than never. It's a moving song, really, and showcases Crutchie's own selfless, laugh-and-it-will-be-okay attitude, which I thought was wonderfully heartbreaking.

And so I wrote a fic about it.

This is my first try at a first person POV Newsies story, and I tried incorporate Crutchie's cute personality and voice in there as much as possible. Enjoy!

-Marcelle

Jack taught me to write when I was eight years old.

He was really stubborn about it, too- he sat me down in the lodging house one day and wouldn't let me leave until I could at least spell my own name. Which is good now, I guess, because how else is he going to know who this letter is from?

Dear Jack,

He taught me a bunch of other words, and then the whole alphabet. Soon, I got so good that I could spell some words just by sounding them out, even really long ones. Jack was real proud of me for that.

"You'se a natural, kid!" I remember him telling me once, right after I showed him how I could spell 'president' without even looking at it. "Someday, you're gonna be writin' all kinds 'a things. Maybe you'll work for old Joe up at the World."

We laughed then. I wish we could still laugh now.

But still, Jack was right, I am using what he taught me. I am writing. I just would have never guessed I'd be writing to him someday, especially from a place like this.

Greetings from the Refuge!

I hope that will make Jack smile, me joking like that. He doesn't smile enough, but maybe he will if he thinks I'm alright. 'Cause I am...mostly.

How are you? I'm okay.

There, now he knows. That should make him feel better. I bet he's feeling as guilty as anything about me getting hauled here. He shouldn't, it wasn't his fault.

Guess I wasn't much help yesterday.

If I didn't have this dumb gimp, I could've given the Delancies and Snyder a run for their money, that's for sure! Or maybe I could have at least gotten away from them in time. But I didn't, 'cause I couldn't, and now my side still hurts from where Snyder hit me.

Snyder soaked me real good with my crutch...

Wait, will that even make sense to Jack? Did I tell him it's me who's sending this?

Oh yeah, Jack! This is Crutchie, by the way!

Good, that's better. Now he won't be confused. But if I know anything about Jack (and something tells me I do), he'll want to know right away what things are like in the Refuge. If anything's changed.

I don't think it has.

These here guards, they is rude. They say jump, boy, you jump or you're screwed!

I wish I would've known that today. I was trying to write this letter earlier, when it was still daytime, but one of the guards came in the room just as I was starting it. He thought I was trying to call for help or bust out or something, I don't know. But he told me to give him the paper, and I was going to, really I was. I guess I wasn't quick enough, though, 'cause he hit me 'cross the face. It stung for a while after that, but it was okay. There are definitely worse things, like the fact that I think they might be trying to starve us.

But the food ain't so bad, least so far. 'Cause so far, they ain't brung us no food!

Ha, ha.

That was a pretty good one, I think. That should make Jack laugh, he really likes jokes like that. He calls it "sophisticated humor." Apparently it helps to sell papes, so I like it, too, but mostly 'cause Jack does. He knows about that kind of thing. Sometimes it seems like he knows everything, and maybe he does. It wouldn't surprise me if he did.

I miss the rooftop.

I really do. I want Jack to know that. Thinking about it makes me miss him, too.

Sleeping right out in the open, in your penthouse in the sky!

The lodging house feels like the top of the world up there. It's where I'm the most happy, when it's just me and Jack and the city is so far below us that if I didn't know any better, I'd think we were up in the clouds. I bet nothing bad ever happens up there.

There's a cool breeze blowing, even in July...

Will I still be here in July? It's not too far away. I might not be out by then.

Is this my home now?

Anyway.

No, there's no way I'm going to stay here. I won't let myself. But I can't make Jack come and get me out. I bet he wants to, that's just the kind of person he is. But he's got the rest of the boys go worry about, and now the strike, too. That's way more important than me being stuck here. I can get out on my own, but the strike and the union need Jack. I can't take him away from that, and risk him being caught on my account. I don't need him-or want him-to save me. Luckily, I've been thinking about this a whole lot. After all, I've got plenty of time now.

So guess what? There's this secret escape plan I've got!

I can't wait to tell Jack about it, 'cause I think it's pretty great! And it won't even be hard, neither. All I've got to do is wait till it's dark out, and everyone else is asleep.

Tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, climb down, and take off like a shot!

By the time they notice I'm gone, I'll be halfway across town! Then I'll go back to the lodging house, and show Jack and the boys that I'm just as tough as they are, and then...oh, no.

Please, no. Not now.

My leg's starting to hurt real bad again as I write, worse than it ever has before. I think it's the air in here that's making it so bad. It's stale, and dirty, and it sometimes feels painful to even breathe. A lot of awful things are happening here. Maybe my leg can tell somehow, like the boys and I pretend it knows the weather. I don't even think I can move it any further than it is right now. Not to mention that I'm tired, so tired.

It's hard to sleep when thinking of home keeps you awake at night.

That and this dang gimp, and how my stomach feels like it's trying to eat itself. I don't think I'd make it more than a couple feet before falling over, and then they'd just find me again and bring me back here. Guess I'll have to tell Jack not to expect me anytime soon...

Maybe though, not tonight. I ain't slept, and my leg's still ain't right.

Oh, no, now it sounds like I'm complaining to Jack, of all people. Really, I don't have anything to whine over, not after what he went through here. Some of the other boys are even more skinny than me, and I can almost see their bones. They have some awful big bruises on them, too, which I guess are from Synder.

These guys are probably happy I'm here, though. Snyder likes to pick on me 'cause I'm a crip, so that lets the others mostly off the hook. 'Course, I can't tell Jack that. It would just make him more worried about me, and he doesn't need to be. We've got bigger fish to fry.

Hey, but Pulitzer, he's going down!

I know the boys can take him, once they regroup and figure out a plan. Now they've got Davey, and he's got the brains to think of something real good. And they're all as tough as nails; there's no way Joe even stands a chance. He's gonna be in for a rude awakening come the next few days, that much I know. But...then what?

Do I really want to stay here in Manhattan? So many horrible things happen on the streets outside, and the Refuge kind of shows me how sick I am of it. The boys and I, we got the short end of the stick, but we put up with it. I've always just thought it was because we don't have any other choice. Things are how they are, and the best we can do is to smile through them and keep our head up...right?

I've been thinking a lot about what Jack said on the rooftop lately, about Santa Fe. He made it sound so good, and from in here, it seems even better. A whole town made out of clay...wow. Who wouldn't want that? I can definitely see the appeal. No wonder Jack is so obsessed with that place. I bet he'd love it if he and I just went there instead of sticking around here. And what would be stopping us?

And then, Jack, I was thinkin' we might just go, like you were sayin'.

Yeah, I want to leave. I want to get out of here and never look back. I'm not ending up anywhere like this place ever again.

Where it's clean and green and pretty, with no buildings in your way! And you're ridin' palominos every day!

Once that train makes-

Some of the boys are telling me to be quiet, on account of it's real late and I'm the only one still not trying to sleep. Most of the other kids are pretty rude to me, kind of like the Delancies are. They make fun of my leg just like Snyder, too, and push me around a lot. Some of them are a lot bigger than me, and they're the ones that do it. I've been treated worse here in just two days than I have been in my whole life, really.

I hate it, and I want out. I've been trying to take it head-on, but I can't do that anymore. It's like the walls are trying to close in on me sometimes, and I can't but help but feel small. I don't want to admit it, but I guess it's finally true. I'm scared.

Dang this place.

But this is a letter for Jack, not for me. I have to make him think that I'm fine, even if I know I'm not, because that's the only way he'll stop worrying. And if he stops thinking about me, he'll focus on the strike, and then we're sure to win. I can tough it out for a few more days, I hope. Only a few more days of this prison-Jack's right, that's what this really is-and then we'll be long gone. I can take that, no problem. Or, at least, that's what I'm telling Jack.

I'll be fine.

As fine as I can be, anyway. I'm sure the nightmares will find me eventually. But that's okay.

Good as new.

It'll take time, but I can bounce back. After all, that's what the boys know me for. Crutchie, the Come Back Kid.

I never let the gimp keep me down, and I as sure as heck won't let this place get the best of me now. But I've seen what goes on here, and I'm not gonna let it happen to anyone else.

But there's one thing I need you to do. On the rooftop, you said that a family looks out for each other.

If any of the boys could have gotten to me in time, I know they would've. I would've done the same for them. But now we have to be more careful, 'cause we can't afford to have anyone else locked up here. It would break our family, and that can't happen. Not now.

So tell all the fellas from me to protect one another.

If Jack doesn't get anything for this letter, I hope he at least reads that last sentence. It's real important that he gives them the message, 'cause I don't know what I'd do if I saw a familiar face in here. They all have to stick together, have everyone's back. And I know they will. We newsies are nothing if we're not loyal.

I wish I didn't have to end the letter. I wish it could go on for a thousand miles, all the way to Santa Fe, telling Jack and the boys everything that I want them to know. But my pencil point's wearing down to the wood, and one of the boys in my bunk might kick me or something if I'm up for too much longer. Besides, I'm almost out of paper.

The end.

Your friend,

No, that doesn't seem right. I know Jack better than just his friends do.

Your BEST friend,

Almost, but...no. I've been his buddy forever, and that's not going to change any time soon. He's taken care of me since the day we met, and I owe him everything. I know I'll see him eventually, but I want him to remember until I get out of here that he was right. We're a family.

Your brother,

Yeah, that's it.

Crutchie.

Well, I hope that turned out as well on paper-er, screen?-as it did in my head. Don't forget to review! Prompts and suggestions are also appreciated, and I'll either be updating Walk Over Us or Matters of Importance next, which ever shows most interest. Thanks for reading!