Hello there, fansies!

I have written and re-written this chapter about a dozen times, so I hope you guys like it. Please comment on it and tell me what I should do with it, because I'm at a standstill, soon. Help!

Since I haven't done this in any chapters, I will say that I do not own Newsies, or else Zachary Sayle would be coming to my city for a month and taking me on backstage tours.

"Wake up boy!" Someone shouted into my face as I shot awake in the Refuge, the sun blinding me. A leathery face watched me from only inches away, his mouth twisted into a sneer while his blackened eyes held no signs of hope.

Snyder.

"Now, what did I say!" The furious man shouted, grabbing a handful of my nightgown, and tossing me onto the ground, regardless of my screams of pain while my bad leg plopped down onto the bare floor.

A black whip caught my eye as I looked up long enough to catch his eyes, before a boot found it's way onto my neck, pushing me flat against the floor while a deep cackle rumbled in his chest.

"You think you can get away without any beatin's, boy?" He shouted into my face, letting a few drops of spittle against my face. Another cackle as he kicked my side, knocking the wind out of my chest while I heaved and coughed harder than ever before.

The memory of my polio came back to kick me in the face once more as a rough hand tossed the tail of my shirt up, and a crack of the whip sounded from behind me.

"N-No…" I pleaded with the little air that was in my chest, while I tried to roll over, curling together. "P-Please!"

Another cackle as a boot pushed my arm against the floor, while the other sunk a kick into my bad leg once more, releasing a high pitched scream from every part of my body.

Crack!

A lash against the back.

Crack!

One close to my neck.

Crack!

This one grazed my backside.

He was drawing an 'S' into my back.

A boot pressed itself into my new lacerations, spreading blood around my back, along with dirt and who knows what else.

And making sure it stayed in there.

When the lashes began to slow down, and I began to lose count, a boot flipped me onto my back, and I looked face to face with the horror that had been released within one of the men I hated most.

"I'm glad you got in here, kid." He sneered, spitting a glob of disgustingness on my forehead. "Or else, I might've done that to one of your dear friends."

"N-no…" I whispered against the floor, trying to push myself up, but my shaky arms fell short, dropping myself back down to the floor. "Y-you wouldn't dare."

He let out another deep cackle.

"The little one, I think I'll go for him first." He laughed, dropping a boot on my bad leg, while heading to the door. A hoarse scream released itself from my chest once more, higher than I thought possible. "Or maybe your brother, what was his name? Jack?"

If I wasn't dead already, I'd have called him off to finish off the last bit than having to endure this pain.

When the door slammed shut, and cackles echoed through the halls while I felt blood start to seep from my leg once more, while a cool breeze blew through the room. I hear footsteps around me while someone screams, and hands fly towards my leg.

My eyes open for one brief moment to see the face of Nicky, more scared than I've ever seen. They closed to the darkness, more welcome and enticing than before.

When I woke up again, pain radiated from every inch of my body. The moon illuminated the window, like it usually did, except strips of bloody and gross bits of cloth dried out in the wind. Med was sitting on the chair nearest to my bed, fingering the pages of a well worn book that had been read and re-read in an effort to fill a meaningless day after the next.

"Mornin', sleepy head." Med said, closing his book and turning his eyes towards me. "We'se was startin' to worry."

A pained nod came from me as I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to roll over the tiniest bit onto my back, which proved to be more difficult than I thought.

It was like I was paralyzed against the thin mattress, stomach side down. Cool air brushed against the start of scars on my back, painful, yet manageable.

"Youse been asleep for three days." He deadpanned. My eyes bulged as I looked him straight in the face.

"Three days?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"Crutchie, Crutchie, youse in here?"

That voice…

No, how could it be… He was busy with the strike!

"Jack?" I whispered hoarsely, looking up at the window, where a familiar face was peeking through the bars, his eyes tired from searching and his mouth in a frustrated line.

As soon as I said something, Med went bezerk.

"What the hell do youse think youse is doin', stupid! Get outta here! This's the Refuge! Save youseself's while you can!" He whispered fiercely, glancing over his shoulder at the door while rushing to the window.

Jack's eyes grew three sizes bigger, and I could've sworn he snorted. "Calm your crazy, buddy. I'se Crutchie's brother."

"Brother?" Med asked, quickly. "You have a brother? Why isn't he in here?"

"Because I'se is too good for those damn cops!" Jack laughed, shaking his head back and forth.

"It IS youse, Jack!" I whispered, trying to move an arm out to touch him, smiling as tears pricked at my eyes. "I-I was starting to thinks you never got my letter, and forgot about me!"

My best friend's face fell, as he looked at me with saddened eyes. "Crutchie, I can never forget about youse. We-We's is family, dontcha remember?"

His daydreams of Santa Fe on the rooftops of the city, and that last talk we had came to mind, making me smile like usual. The words I longed to say escaped me.

"Well come over to the window, buddy, and gimme a hug!" He said happily, smiling at me and my legs happily.

"Jack…" I mumbled sadly, looking at my leg. "The Delancey's, and Snyder, theys was ruthless. My leg's busted up real bad."

The white light of the moon made his expression all the more guilty. He shook his head angrily. "This whole things stupid, Crutchie. If we didn't start the strike-"

"Shut up." I interrupted, shaking my head the tinest bit. "You didn't do this to me."

The room was silent for a moment. You could hear a kid screeching down the hall while recieving a beating from one of the brothers.

"I'm gettin' youse outta here, Crutchie. I'm gettin' youse outta here as soon as I can." Jack whispered.

"Do what you gotta do?" I replied, turning to face him. A searing pain radiated through my body, pinning me back to the bed while a small screech forced itself out of my mouth.

"Crutchie!" Jack shouted, sticking his hand through a slit in the window and reaching for me. A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye. "It's all my fault..."

"Get outta here, kid, I can hear Snyder comin'!" Med hissed, covering the window with his back.

"I can't leave you here, Crutchie!" His voice was heartbreaking.

"Leave, Jack." I whispered hoarsely, as my body began to convulse in pain.

He held his breath a second, before pulling his head out of the window. "Stay safe, Crutchie, please."

As soon as his face disappeared from the window, the gaggle of little boys that were in the room earlier Med had introduced me to rushed into the room, huffing and puffing with eyes scared and wide. "Med! Snyder, he's got Nicky!"

It took a moment for Med to run out of the room, shouting commands to each of the boys. "Luke, get some water! Brett, grab the strips of cloth from under my bed!"

Almost as instantly as the news was brought to us, I watched in panic as they dragged in a slumped over figure of Nicky, whose lip was bloody, and a mangled wrist was being hugged against her chest.

Med shouted out commands to the boys while I laid in fright, pushed into the bed with pain while Nicky slowly was patched up, a few groans echoing from the room.

Only a few moments later, she was sitting up, taking in a small glass of lukewarm water. Her eyes were focused on the floor while I laid, a useless pile of broken bones and shattered hope.

When my eyes closed from the pain, Nicky finally spoke up.

"How's he doin'?" She whispered while the other boys scrambled up to their bunks silently. "I heard 'im the other night."

Med took a small breath, and adjusted himself on the bed. "Lift up your arm, please."

She did.

"He's been better."

A beat of silence sounded while Nicky let out a hiss of pain. I laid still, silent like before as another breath of the breeze blew against my scabs.

"That's the worst I'se ever seen 'im. Snyder usually quits after a few lashes." Med continues, standing from his seat on the bed and pulling the chair near my bed towards his own. "I counted twenty three."

"I heard twenty seven." Nicky mumbled out. "Is it broken?"

"Your wrist? Just bruised." Med replied, taking a breath before continuing. "Him though, I barely even know what's not."

"So his leg's even worse now?"

"Much worse. He's gonna need a real doctor, and fast."

I finally fell asleep to one last sentence from Nicky. One last,hopeful sentence that sent me to a good dreamland for once in this hell hole.

"When I get whipped, it's worse. And I'm fine. He's gonna make it through. I know it."

What did you guys think? I hate writing parts of text where people get hurt, but it has to be in there for the development of their stories and relationships and all that jazz, but it was an extra long chappie for y'all. And I'm thinking of starting a one-shot series about JackXKatherine, but I'm not sure. I have two written out right now, but tell me if you think I should! Constructive criticism is welcome, flames are not! Review and Follow and favorite, please. Thank you, and DFTBA!