A/N: Hey, everybody! Just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who favorited and reviewed my last story. It means a lot to me! ;)

This past week has been pretty rough. We had to put our eighteen-year-old dog down. We've had her since before I was born, so it's definitely been hard as I've never known life without her. I wrote this fic the next day.

As always, reviews are appreciated!

*Warning: You might want to pull out the tissues.

Disclaimer: Again, I don't own Newsies.

It was a blustery autumn day, the kind where the wind seems to whip right through a person and chill them to the bone.

Jack Kelly shivered and pulled his too-small coat tighter around himself. He glanced up and down the street, hoping to spot Crutchie.

The two newsies had split up to sell their last few papers for the day, as was their usual routine during evenings when the crowds began to thin.

Jack slouched against the brick wall of the building behind him and closed his eyes. It had been a long week already. Maybe—

"Jack!"

The older boy lifted his head to see Crutchie approach, one hand clutching his ever-present crutch to help him along. The other arm was carefully wrapped around some sort of bundle—his coat.

"Crutchie, why you ain't got you's coat on?" Jack frowned. "It's too cold to go without."

The eleven-year-old ignored the scolding. "Look, Jack." He held the coat out to his friend, and the older boy leaned in, brows furrowing in confusion.

The last thing Jack expected the bundle to do was make a noise. He jumped back in surprise.

"I founds it lyin' alone in an alley," the blond newsie explained hurriedly. "I think he's hurt, Jackie."

Jack stepped forward again, this time taking the bundle from Crutchie. He pulled back the edge of the coat to find a small furry face blinking back at him. "A dog?"

Crutchie nodded. "We gotta help him, Jack. I think he might've been hit by a car or somethin'."

A smile wormed its way across Jack's face. The kid had such a soft heart. He always had to help everyone—and everything—he could.

A second quick peek at the injured dog told Jack the poor little fella was in bad shape. The graying muzzle on the small dog's face was another indicator.

"He looks pretty old, Crutchie," Jack informed the boy gently. "If he's as bad off as you says..." He trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud.

Crutchie's smile faded, and he bit his lip.

Jack sighed. He could never say no to the kid. "Let's take 'im to the lodging house and see what we's can do."

The younger newsie only nodded, falling into step behind Jack as they made their way home.

Most of the others had already returned. The ruckus in the lodging house after a full day's work was nothing short of chaotic. However, several of the boys were observant enough to notice Jack and Crutchie's bundle.

"What's you got?" Race appeared at the door, sticking his cigar in his mouth.

"A dog," Crutchie answered, preoccupied as he hobbled after Jack toward the table.

"A dog? Now whatever'd you go do that for? We can't keeps a dog here."

Jack glared. "Shuddup, Racer." He really didn't need Race's smart mouth adding to the situation.

Race threw both hands up in surrender. "Was jus' a question 'n statement, Jackie." He squinted at the animal now lying on the table. "What's wrong with it?"

"He's hurt," Crutchie supplied, eyes still on the furry creature he'd rescued. "I founds him."

At those words, Race dropped the teasing grin and moved closer to Jack. "He gonna be okay?"

Jack lifted his eyes to exchange glances with Race. He wasn't going to say it out loud in front of Crutchie, but the poor little dog wasn't looking good.

"Why don'ts y' go get some water?" Jack requested. Crutchie nodded, eager to help.

Jack waited until the kid had limped away before turning back to the pup. A quick examination confirmed his fears. The poor critter didn't have much time left. He bit his lip, not looking forward to breaking the unfortunate news to his brother.

"Here." Crutchie reappeared with a bowl of water and squeezed between Jack and Race. He set it down and leaned against the table to steady himself while letting go of his crutch. Easing both hands under the dog's head, he lifted. The black mutt lapped at the water halfheartedly, his tail thumping in a weak motion against the tabletop.

"It's okay, boy," Crutchie whispered, stroking the dog's nose. The dog whimpered, sticking out his pink tongue to lick Crutchie's hand before his tired eyes fell shut.

Crutchie kept a comforting hand on the dog. "He'll be okay, won't 'e, Jack?" Hopeful blue eyes implored the older boy's, searching for an answer.

Jack sighed, running a hand across his face. It wouldn't be long... "Crutchie...maybe it's better if you's go on with Race."

Crutchie inhaled sharply, eyes widening. "No. Jack, you gots to save 'im!"

Jack caught the kid gently by the shoulders. "Listen t' me, Crutch. He's old an' he's pretty bad hurt. There's nothin' we can do."

Crutchie shook his head in denial, breathing becoming labored. Without warning, he tore himself away from Jack and hobbled toward the exit. The newsies watched him go.

"Crutch—!"

"Mush." Jack shook his head sadly. "Let 'im be."

It wasn't but ten minutes later that Jack was climbing the creaky ladder to join Crutchie, Mush's offered coat clutched in his hand.

The kid was exactly where Jack knew he'd be—on the rooftop, sitting with his back against the rail, his crutch at his side.

Without a word, Jack lowered himself down next to the crippled boy, holding out the piece of clothing. Crutchie obediently took it and slid it on without a word.

Several minutes passed in silence. Then finally, Crutchie spoke, his voice quiet. "Is he...?"

Jack nodded slowly. "Race and Panther is takin' care of it." He blew out a sigh. "I's sorry, kid."

Crutchie bit his lower lip, but Jack could see his chin quivering. They sat in silence for another moment.

"I jus' wanted to help." The quiet voice was heartbroken. "He was all alone."

"You did help," Jack tried to reassure. "He prob'ly got more love in his last few minutes than ever before. You saw how happy and relaxed 'e was."

Crutchie worked his jaw, his gaze straight ahead. "I knows."

"It's hard," Jack acknowledged. "'Specially for you, 'cause you gots such a soft spot for them little critters." He poked the boy's arm playfully.

Crutchie finally turned, and Jack was dismayed to spot tears beginning to drip down the younger newsie's cheeks. "I couldn't save him."

"Hey." Without hesitation, Jack pulled the kid to his chest, holding him close. "It wasn't you's fault, all right? There wasn't nothin' any of us coulda done." He rested his chin on top of the boy's blond head. "It's okay."

A few moments of silence passed before Crutchie sniffled against Jack's shirt. "I jus' remember what it's was like to be alone and hurtin', and I didn't want him to feel that way, neither."

Jack tightened his grip on the kid. He remembered, too. It was the same way for most of the newsies.

Crutchie sighed. "I wanted to do the same thing for 'im," he sniffed again, "like you did fer me, Jack."

"Aw, Crutch..." Jack didn't know how to respond. He could feel his throat tightening and told himself he wasn't gonna cry. There were a million things he wanted to say, but the words all seemed stuck. He finally settled for, "I'm proud of y', kid."

Crutchie's silent tears gradually came to a stop, but he didn't make any effort to get up.

So Jack sat, the kid he called brother in his arms, letting the autumn wind blow over them as they gazed out across the streets of New York.

"Jack?" The small voice broke the silence.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Although there was no elaboration, Jack knew exactly what the newsie meant.

So he smiled, ruffled the boy's hair, and whispered, "Anytime, kid."

End