After what had seemed like forever, the strike was over. The long week of being beaten and battered and bruised in the Refuge was over. But something else, something possibly more important than the strike and the beatings was over too.

The small click and drag of a heel hearalded the most happiest and optimistic person's arrival into the Newsboy's Lodging House on this dreary, raining starless night. Only this night, there was something substantially different about the short figure as he limped inside the home. With a weary hand, he took off his green cap, bunching it up in his hands. The boy bowed his head, and turning, threw the hat at the couch. It just flopped onto the floor pathetically. The boy limped over to the couch, sitting down just as someone's boots thumped down the stairs.

"Crutchie?" Jack's voice asked. "You awright, kid?"

Crutchie didn't answer. He fixated his gaze on the wall across from him. Little warning bells went off in Jack's head, and he tried to be as quiet as he could as he walked over to his little friend. "You wannna…..say somethin'?" Jack asked, and Crutchie flicked his woeful eyes to Jack's face. "No," the word dropped from his lips so quietly, it was barely indistinguishable from the city sounds outside.

Jack eased his way onto the couch, putting a tough hand on Crutchie's shoulder. Crutchie glanced at it, and went back to staring into space. After what seemed like an eternity, two more words fell from his mouth. "She died."

"Who?" Jack questioned gently. He looked down at the floor.

"A friend….friend o' mine," Crutchie whispered with that same blank, pensive look. "From the….the Refuge."

Jack glanced at his face, which still had the same empty expression. Jack shook his shoulder slightly, and stood up to go back to bed. "'M sorry, kid. Now c'mon, beds are upstairs."

Crutchie didn't respond.

"Crutch," Jack said uneasily. "You gotta sleep."

Again, no answer.

"Crutchie!" Jack yelled, quickly becoming frustrated. "Time fer bed!"

He still didn't say anything. Jack heaved a heavy, angry sigh, and marched up the stairs. "If you wanna stay down there, then fine. Won't help you any!"

Jack glanced back at Crutchie's still form and sighed again. When he and the other boys would come down in the morning, Crutchie would still be there. And he would sit like that for the next two weeks.