Hey, ! Please don't kill me for not updating for a while. Sorry about that but thanks for hanging on. Please leave reviews so I can make this an even better story for you guys! So, I won't keep you guys waiting, here is chapter 4! Enjoy!

-Hayd

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Newsies or the soundtrack and lyrics. All rights go to Disney.

Four days earlier,

Jack couldn't help it, when he saw Snyder, he ran. He scampered backward, separating himself from the evil man leering down at him before spinning around on his hands and knees and standing up, running away. After losing Snyder in the chaos, Jack ducked into a nearby alley, hiding in the shadows. The shaken boy bent over, putting his hands on his knees, panting.

"Jack!" At the sound of his name, Jack's head whipped up, searching for the origin of the cry.

"Anyone! Please, Help!" Wait, he knew that voice. Jack ran to the edge of the alley, careful to keep himself hidden. His eyes widened in horror as he saw Crutchie fall to the ground as Morris Delancey's fist caught his face. Jack's heart felt as if it was being torn out as his non-biological brother's screams filled the square as the Delancey brothers worked him over. The brothers suddenly stopped as the man from Jack's nightmares walked up to the shaking blond boy cowering on the ground, holding the boy's crutch. A wicked grin spread across Snyder's face as he lifted the crutch.

"No no please don't plea-" Crutchie's pleas were cut short as Snyder brought the crutch down on his body, eliciting a scream from the shaking boy. Tears ran down Jack's face as the blows and the shrieks kept coming. He watched as Crutchie's frame jerked with every hit. To Jack's relief, Snyder stopped beating Crutchie, and he composed himself, straightening his coat and throwing the crutch to Oscar, who caught it swiftly. But that relief was replaced with terror as Snyder grabbed Crutchie's shaking wrist, fastening handcuffs roughly around them.

"It's off to the Refuge with you little man" Snyder hissed. Chills went down Jack's spine as he heard the name of the nightmarish prison

"No no NO NO NO!"The warden smiled cruelly as Morris grabbed Crutchie's bad leg, cutting off his begging.

"Jack!" His brother's screams filled Jack's ears.

"Jack help!" Crutchie's voice was raw with pain, hitting harder Jack than the Delancey brothers' brass knuckles.

"JACK!" He couldn't take it anymore,

"CRUTCHIE!" Jack ran out of the alley, arm outstretched towards Crutchie, trying to get to him. He felt a hand grab his forearm, stopping him from reaching his brother. He pulled against it desperately as he watched Crutchie strain his neck to lift his head, looking up at Jack. They made eye-contact, and Crutchie threw out his hands, clawing at the cobblestone streets, trying to stop Morris from dragging his further, but it was pointless.

"JACK!" Crutchie gave one final cry before Jack watched his head smack the ground as Morris yanked him violently, and the crippled boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he was dragged away.

"NO!" Jack shouted, trying once again to run after Morris. Tears streamed down his face as he was held back by the unknown assailant restraining him. The grip on his arm tightened, snapping Jack back to reality as he turned his head to see who had been keeping him from saving Crutchie. His eyes locked with a pair of cold, cruel eyes, and he knew he was in trouble.

"Kelly" Snyder spat, twisting Jack's arm, his vise-like grip never loosening. Jack wrenched his arm out of Snyder's grasp, stumbling backward. He found his footing again and he turned and ran.

"KELLY!" Jack heard Snyder's voice behind him. He didn't stop though, tears blurring his vision as he sprinted up fire escapes and across roofs, Snyder's shouts fading behind him. Jack reached the familiar ladder and clambered to the rooftop, slamming the gate behind him. He stood there panting for a moment before slamming his fist on the railing,

"AGHHH!" He screamed, his voice cracking in defeat. Jack sunk to the ground, hands sliding down the railing, and he curled himself into a ball. Sobs wracked the seventeen-year-old's crumpled body. Jack collected himself before slowly standing back up, leaning heavily on the railing of his rooftop penthouse. He spun around, stopping as he saw the second mattress on the other end of his penthouse. The mattress that belonged to Crutchie. Jack stared at the mattress, it was his fault that it was empty. It was his fault that he was here and Crutchie was in the Refuge, barely alive or worse.

"Folks we finally got our headline, 'Newsies CRUSHED as bulls attack!' Crutchie's calling me, dumb crip's just too damn slow" his mind flashed back to the Delancey brothers grabbing Crutchie and dragging him to the center of the square.

"Guys are fighting, bleeding, falling. Thanks to good ole' Captain Jack!" Jack threw his hands in the air angrily. The boys had depended on him, and he failed them.

"Captain Jack just wants to close his eyes and GO!" Jack brought his hands back down on the railing, feeling the metal shake underneath his fists. He closed his eyes and leaned forward over the railing of his penthouse. He opened his eyes looked down at the streets below, empty of people except the occasional adult or kid looking for a place to spend the night. Jack watched a small boy trudging down the street, wrapping his arms around himself in an attempt to keep warm as he kept walking. He'd met Crutchie like that, Jack remembered.

He'd been selling on a street corner and he heard something, like a muffled cry. He glanced around quickly, making sure that no one would steal his selling spot. Jack quickly made his way across the street. It was a Sunday, and all the folks rich enough to afford cars were in church, praying and such. As he got closer a nearby alleyway, he began to hear voices,

"Please, I-I don't want any trouble." It sounded like a young boy's voice, but Jack couldn't be sure.

"Oh you're in for a lot more than a little trouble" That voice, Jack recognized. That voice meant something was wrong. He crept closer to the alley, sticking his head around the corner so that he could see. His eyes took in a small boy being cornered by two bigger and no doubt older boys. The Delancey brothers. The boy appeared to be holding something wooden under his arm as he tried to press himself against the brick wall behind him. The Delanceys moved in closer and Oscar cracked his knuckles, chuckling.

"Whattaya say, Morris? You think we should teach this crip a lesson about ignoring people?" He asked his brother. Morris looked at Oscar, a cruel smile on his face, before looking back at the trembling boy,

"I think we should Oscar." The boy yelped as Morris grabbed him by his shirt collar, lifting up in the air. The sound of wood hitting stone echoed through the alley as the boy dropped whatever had been under his arm. Jack ran into the alley,

"Hey! Put 'im down!" Jack yelled. The brothers turned around, Morris still holding the boy above the ground. The boy stopped struggling for a moment to look over his shoulder at Jack, looking startled and relieved at the same time.

"And what are you goin' ta do about it?" Morris sneered. The brothers looked at each other before nodding, and Oscar stepped towards Jack while Morris turned his attention back to the boy. Jack gulped at Oscar smirked, before charging towards Jack, arm gearing up for a punch. Jack dodged and slipped under Oscar's arm, throwing off the bigger man's balance off. Jack looked over his shoulder to check on the younger boy just in time to see him fall out of Morris's hands and onto the ground. A rough hand on Jack's shoulder spun him around and Oscar landed a punch to Jack's lip. Jack stumbled backward, hearing thumps followed by soft shouts coming from behind him as Morris landed hit after hit on the boy. Jack clenched his fists, he had to help the boy. But first, he had to take care of Oscar. Jack steadied himself and this time when Oscar came charging, he was ready. Jack ducked under Oscar and grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back painfully. Oscar let out a scream and Jack pushed him to the ground. While the older boy curled on the ground nursing his arm, Jack turned to Morris, who was busy slamming the kid into the wall behind him. The kid's yelps had died down to whimpers, and he looked dazed.

"Hey, Morris! I said, put 'im down." Jack growled, blood dripping from his lip. Morris turned around to look at Jack before throwing the kid to the ground. The young boy landed, crying out softly before crawling over to a corner, curling in on himself, trying to get away from Morris.

"You just don't know when to quit do you, Kelly." Morris sneered at Jack, cracking his knuckles. Jack tried to dodge as the Delancey charged towards him. Morris grabbed Jack in a headlock and spun him around, ready to shove his face into the alley wall. As a last ditch attempt, Jack swung his leg back, catching the older boy between the legs. Morris immediately doubled over, releasing Jack, who backed up until he was blocking the boy from the brothers. He dragged his arm across his lip, wiping the blood,

"Get out of here" He warned, and the Delanceys did just that, running out of the alley as fast as they could. Jack turned the boy cowering behind him, who looked to be about 2 years younger than Jack himself,

"You okay kid?" The boy looked up at him and nodded slightly, noticeably shaking, with a bleeding cut on his forehead, bloody nose, and a somewhat dazed look in his eyes. Jack held out his hand to help him up,

"Jack Kelly" The boy took it, and slowly got to his feet, leaning heavily on the bricks behind him and balancing on his left foot,

"C-Crutchie. Crutchie Morris" He replied.

"Well Crutchie whattaya say we get you cleaned up, I've got just the place." Jack offered, Those cuts looked pretty bad, and the dazed look in Crutchie's eyes suggested that he had knocked his head pretty badly. Crutchie nodded again before gesturing slightly behind Jack. Jack looked to where he was pointing to see the wooden object he had seen him drop earlier, laying forgotten on the ground. Jack walked over and picked it up. He turned it over in his hands, looking at the handle that stuck out a third of the way down, and the scraps of cloth wrapped around the top. It was a crutch. Jack walked back over to Crutchie and handed him the crutch. Crutchie took it gratefully and slid it under his arm, leaning onto the cloth. Jack took Crutchie's non-crutching hand and put it around his shoulder, helping the boy limp slowly out of the alley and towards the lodging house.

A horn in the distance snapped Jack back to the present and he turned away from the streets, trying to cast the memory out of his mind. But he couldn't. It was his fault that Crutchie was condemned to the rotting dungeon that was the Refuge. He had been there for Crutchie those many years ago but he hadn't been there for him today. Jack pushed off the railing and began pacing the penthouse. He needed desperately to get away, go somewhere far from where he wouldn't be reminded of his failure everywhere he looked. He needed Santa Fe.

Jack closed his eyes and pictured himself getting on a train and leaving the good-for-nothing streets of New York forever. He smiled, in Santa Fe there'd be no Snyder chasing him, no more dodging the Delancey brothers when he was trying to sell. No one would cheat him out of his fair share there, no way. And the moon, the moon would be huge in the sky, shining so bright that night would become day. Jack opened his eyes and walked over to Crutchie's mattress, looking down at it. Why did he have to spend his whole life in New York? Where was that written? He was only 17 and his future, well his future didn't exist. If life wasn't good here, why didn't he just go somewhere new? Somewhere far away from Pulitzer and his lousy headlines. Somewhere like Santa Fe.

Jack knew he couldn't spend his whole life dreaming, no matter how badly he wanted to. He needed something new, a clean slate. Let the other boys laugh at him, he didn't care. All he needed was to get out,

"save my place," He thought to himself.

"I'll be there" He just needed it to be real, not just somewhere his mind had made up. Because he was dead if he couldn't count on Santa Fe to be there for him.

Jack looked down at his best friend's mattress, empty and abandoned. It was his fault that Crutchie wasn't sitting on that mattress looking up at him. His fault that he was alone in the penthouse instead of accompanied by his brother. A sob tore through Jack's lips and he sunk down onto the mattress, burying his head in his hands, letting the sobs roll through his body.