December at the lodging house was always enjoyed. The newsies had the week before Christmas till New Years off, and all of them spent it playing around in the snow.
Except one, that is.
It had been decided that because of his bad leg, which often stiffened up painfully in the cold, Crutchy had to stay inside. He liked the book he was given, and he certainly didn't mind the styrofoam cup of hot chocolate Dutchy had brought him out of sympathy, but the situation made him feel out of place from the rest of the newsies, unable to run and play and just goof off like they could.
The newsies came in, cheerfully stripping off their hats, scarves, and mittens, when Racetrack noticed Crutchy sniffling in the corner. ''Hey, whatsa madda, Crutch?'' he asked sympathetically.
''It's just-that I won't be able to play around with you guys, or nuttin' with this leg, never!'' That was the first time anyone in the lodging house had seen Crutchy break down in tears.
Jack, at this point, jumped down from his bunk and began to rub the teen's back comfortingly when he was startled by a sudden yelp. ''Woah, kid, you nearly gave me a heart attack!'' Jack exclaimed, ''What for?''
Knowing Jack expected an answer, Crutchy responded, ''Your hands are really cold.''
Jack knew the second he heard it this was a lie. ''Alright, Crutchy, what really happened?''
''The Delancey bruddas,'' Crutchy confessed, dabbing at his eyes with the back of his hand, ''Theys beat me up, and laugh, and Jack, it hurts so bad!''
''Hold still kid, I'm gonna see what theys done to ya.'' said Jack, gingerly removing the freckled redhead's shirt while Crutchy obediantly sat it one spot, biting his tongue to keep from crying out.
''Them Delanceys did THIS to you?'' said Jack, upon seeing Crutchy's back covered with scrapes, bruises, and just about any injury possible. Crutchy shyly nodded in response.
Turning to the rest of the boys, Jack said, ''Fellas, we're gonna show them Delanceys they can't do this to Crutchy. Got it?''
A chorus of ''Ayes'' filled the room.
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Next morning came, and the newsies were ready for it, with slingshots loaded and ready to unleash heckfire on the first Delancey they saw.
Finally, the team came upon the duo. The two were leaning against the wall in a dark alleyway, smoking cigarettes. The dimly lit alleyway was lit up by Jack stepping forward.
''I heard you two villanous, unwashed thugs hurt my friend.'' Jack said, through gritted teeth.
''What's the matter, did he come home wet and shivering? Ain't no fault of ours if the crip fell in a river or something.'' Morris said, laughing. That sent Jack's blood boiling, and in a single bound, he was on top of the Delancey.
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Crutchy, after selling his last paper, began to walk home when he heard Oscar Delancey's voice ring out from the alleyway. ''Hey, crip!'' Crutchy froze with fear, knowing what was about to happen next.
''He's calling you, gimp!'' Morris's voice echoed.
''I have a name!'', Crutchy bravely-or stupidly-called back, ''and it's CRUTCHY, by the way.''
Oscar pegged him in the back of the head with a snowball. As Crutchy got up from the glistening, snow-covered stones, he heard Oscar laugh before responding, ''I'll call you whatever I want, crip.''
''Isn't it rather dangerous to use one's entire vocabulary in a single sentence?'' Crutchy retorted. That's when the two started on him.
An hour later, they threw him onto a frozen river and left. Crutchy's weight had broken the thin ice when he hit it. The cold water stung like hell's fire, doing little to numb his wounds. As he dragged himself back out, he decided to make sure Jack didn't find out about what had happened that day.
But when he got back to the lodging house, Jack looked up from the hand of cards he had and asked him why he was soaked to the bone. Crutchy lied and said he got caught in a major rainstorm, but when Jack put his hand out the window, but he didn't feel a drop of rain.
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''Yes,'' said Jack, with fists clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. ''Come to think about it, he was drenched and almost frozen. He had about a million bruises on him too, that YOU GAVE HIM!'' With that, he punched Morris as hard as he could.
Morris stood up and spat blood.
''You wanna fight, Cowboy?'' he challenged.
''Yeah.'' said Jack, ''I'm gonna kill you for what you did to my brother.''
''Jack! NO!'' called Crutchy from a corner, pale as a sheet at the prospect of Jack taking on the Delanceys.
''Oh, you got friends, huh? How many?'' Oscar smirked.
Jack set down a lantern, casting dim light on the guys.
''Five hundred.'' he growled.
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The newsboys of Manhattan rained marbles, stones, and snowballs upon the Delanceys when they heard a rough, musky voice say, ''I believe this is yours.''
Jack turned around to see Crutchy struggling in the grip of Bruno Letterman. ''See, wes brought a friend too.'' Oscar smirked.
''Let him go!'' yelled Dutchy, without really thinking.
''Sure.'' said Bruno. He shifted his grip, grabbing the teen's ankles and dropping him six feet to the ground.
Crutchy was knocked unconscious from the fall, his crutch clattering somewhere into the darkness.
'' 'e alive?'' Skittery asked, scooping up the namesake.
'' Of course he is, ya idiot.'' Jack said, smacking Skittery.
''Or at least he better be.'' he whispered into the night.
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Jack lay Crutchy, limp in his arms, into bed. He pulled the sheets up , and as an afterthought, tossed his crutch into the bushes before going to go horse around outside with the other boys.
As the sun was rising, Crutchy woke up. He tried to get up, but Jack put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him down. Crutchy was quick to notice one thing, though.
''Jack, whadja do with my crutch?'' he asked.
''I thought you'd ask that, ya crazy crip,'' Jack said affectionately, ''so I hid it until you don't holler when I touch ya.''
''Aw, Jack,'' Crutchy begged, looking up at Jack with his wide brown eyes, ''That ain't fair. I can't have any fun laid up in here with a stiff leg!''
''Now you see here, Crutchy, kid'' Jack said, ''Out there's a place called Santa Fe. I bet when you get there, with a little fresh air, you could toss that crutch of yours for good, spending days running and playing in lush green fields. Just you hold on, kid, till that train makes Santa Fe.''
Crutchy looked up at Jack and smiled, then fell asleep. Jack looked at him and his weak hands clutching the blankets, then ruffled his soft ginger hair and set out for breakfast.
-THE END-
I'm such a sucker for bromances, even if Crutchy and Jack aren't related. Anyway, if you liked, please R&R!