Crutchie awoke with a start, knocking his head against the stone wall. He reached up a hand, frowning as he noticed his hat was missing. He had definitely had it last night, but-oh. He slumped down, spirits sinking as he remembered the carriage, and the coppers, and then the journey to Coney Island. Not that he had seen much, as he had been stuck inside the carriage the whole way. Crutchie's forehead stung from where he had banged it on the back of the carriage, and he knew his legs were bruised and aching all over. He glanced around for his crutch, finding the hard wood lying on the ground next to him. He breathed a sigh of relief, and started to stand. It looked like he was in some jail cell, as evident by the handcuffs around his wrists. Crutchie's feet scrabbled on the floor, and he fell more than twice as he tried to get. Crutchie fell back with an "oof!", hitting his head on the dirt floor. Crutchie rolled over on his side, and sat up to peer around the jail cell. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, and didn't see that anyone else was in the cell with him.

Crutchie was thrown onto his back as a figure came flying towards him. The person looked at Crutchie with a haunted, haggard face, and then yanked the boy to his feet.

"Gimme your money," the person growled, and Crutchie noticed with shock that it was a woman. "All of it! Now!"

"I don't got any!" Crutchie shouted, and the woman started shaking him. Crutchie frantically tried to keep his hands on his pockets, but the woman reached in and grabbed the few pennies and dimes he had. Crutchie was dropped to the ground painfully while the strange woman walked away menacingly. He rolled over again, and started to search his pockets for any money he had left. Crutchie watched as the woman stood up and walked over to the cell door, calling for the guards.

"I got money!" she yelled wildly. "I got money, now get me outta here! I can pay you!"

Crutchie's fingers landed on something round and hard in his pockets. Drawing it out, he saw with happiness that it was a whole quarter. Quickly, he stuffed it down his shoe as the woman turned to him again.

"What's your name?" she barked, apparently not having success with the guard outside.

"Crutchie," he said slowly, watching her pace around.

"You ever been in a place like this, Crutchie?"

"Yes, ma'am," Crutchie said quickly. "The Refuge, in Manhattan-"

The woman burst into laughter. She continued laughing almost insanely, and collapsed to the ground in a heap, shaking with laughter. Crutchie sat there, not daring to make any sudden movements. Whoever she was, this lady definitely needed to be in the insane asylum.

At long last, the woman looked up at him through fractured, clear blue eyes. "You called me ma'am."

"Yeah," Crutchie said, and the woman burst into laughter again. This continued for a few minutes, until the woman abruptly stopped and looked over at him slyly. By this time, Crutchie was thoroughly creeped out.

"Lemme tell you something, kid," Crutchie slowly backed up as the woman crawled over to him, her bare feet digging in the dirt. Crutchie's skin crawled as he noticed the dirt underneath the woman's abnormally long fingernails, and her matted, greasy brown hair. Her face was pale white, and her eyes had a translucent quality to them. Her once-fine dress was now in tatters, and she leaned over Crutchie almost too close for comfort.

"This place is nothing like your little Refuge," Her breath was hot as she panted down Crutchie's neck. "It was lorded over by Snyder, wasn't it? Think of him, and then multiply him. You see those two guards outside our cell?" The woman pushed Crutchie back into the ground so that she was almost on top of him. "They're like Snyder, but ten times worse. Don't think they won't hesitate to crack your precious little skull because they will-"

Crutchie sat up and scooted away from her as fast as he could. The woman lurched back and stood up, satisfied with scaring him.

"So, why're you in here, kid?" the woman asked.

"I'se a newsie," was the first thing that came to Crutchie's mind. The woman laughed again. "Got caught for 'improvin' the truth', then? Maybe stealing food, or clothing?"

"What's yer name?" Crutchie demanded, and the woman shot a steely glare at him. "Answer my question."

"Answer mine," Crutchie argued.

"I asked you first," the woman said bitingly.

Crutchie shrugged. "I asked ya second." He wasn't really scared of this woman.

"I asked you first!" the woman screamed in his face, and they both looked over to the jail doors as one of the guards banged on them. "Quiet down!"

The woman looked back to Crutchie. "My name's Rosa."

"I stole a wheeler," Crutchie said, and then immediately fixed his statement. "I got framed fer stealin' it, actually-I did steal it, but it was my friend's, an' then 'er dad said if I didn't give 'im two hundred dollars, I'd go tah jail, an' here I is."

Rosa raised an eyebrow. "Who's your friend's dad?"

"Joseph Pulitzer," Crutchie deadpanned.

"HEY!" one of the guards yelled at them. "If you can't be quiet, I'm comin' in there!"

"Sorry, mister," Rosa began sweetly, slowly standing up. "We're just minding our own business and all-"

"He told ya to be quiet!" the other guard snapped, and tossed the keys to his friend. Crutchie quickly scooted away to the corner of the cell as Rosa confronted the guard who had stepped inside. Crutchie saw the club in his hands, and scooted away even farther.

"Now, mister, I think you're taking it a bit too-" Rosa tried to intervene, but the guard shoved her down and struck her with the club. Crutchie winced as she yelled out in pain, and tried to stand up.

"Stop 'urtin' 'er!" he yelled, and the guard looked over to him. He grinned, and walked over to Crutchie. "Ya wanna know why we put ya in this cell, gimp? It was 'cause we could get ridda you faster! That woman, there-no one ever lasts long with her. She's so crazy, she tries to get everyone in here with her killed! And that's exactly what's gonna happen to you, ya lousy crip!"

Crutchie yelled out as the man dragged him out from the corner and started beating him. He curled up in a ball, shaking as tears threatened to break free from his eyes and stream down his face. He put his hands up as a weak defense, frantically trying to push the guard away.

"No...please! Stop, please, I didn't do anythin'-PLEASE!" Crutchie screamed out, and Rosa glanced over at him. She slowly stood up, rattling her handcuffs. Something in her face softened, wiping away years of hardship and pain in the rehabilitation center. "He told you to stop," she said dully, slowly walking over to the pair.

"I'm doin' my work," the guard said viciously, ignoring Crutchie's cries of pain that gradually got weaker and weaker. "I wanna earn my day's pay for this!"

Rosa held up a hand, stopping the incoming club up in the air. The guard looked at her, and she thrust him and the club away as hard as she could. The guard slugged her in the face and she crumpled to the ground. He walked away again, leaving the cell.

Crutchie's chest heaved as he started to sit up, but it was painful just doing that. Rosa went over and helped him sit up. He winced as she touched his side, and looked up at her.

Rosa slapped him across the face.

"Why'd you tell him to stop hurting me?" she hissed. "Look at what he did to you!"

"Ya didn't desoive tah be beaten up eithah," Crutchie pointed out, and Rosa slapped him again. Crutchie turned his face the other way, watching Rosa seethe with anger out of the corner of his eye.

"You could have been seriously hurt," Rosa stood and started pacing again. "All for stealing a wheeler! Crutchie-" She stopped, and looked at him with an expression of such motherly love that Crutchie was almost scared again.

"Look, I barely knows you, let's jus' stop all this an' wait fer food or somethin'-" Crutchie tried to say, and Rosa started laughing again.

"Food? Food, Crutchie? You have got to be kidding me. After what they did to us today, we won't be getting food for a long time," she stated, and looked at him again with that same expression. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Ehhhhhhh, ya said your name's Rosa," Crutchie stammered.

She didn't answer him. Crutchie looked to the ground, and back up at her.

"Alright," he said reluctantly. "Who are ya?"

"I'm Rosa, who'd ya think I was?" She laughed again, and walked over to ruffle his hair. "Silly boy. I bet you thought I was related to you or something, isn't that right?"

"No, I jus' thought you was bein' creepy," Crutchie admitted, and Rosa bent down in front of him. She smiled. "I like you."

"Good," Crutchie said. "I like me, too." He cracked a smile as Rosa started laughing. She sat down, pulling her legs underneath her.

"You aren't badly hurt, are you?" she asked seriously, and Crutchie shook his head no. Rosa took him by the arm, and pulled him to his feet. He grimaced in pain as she started to help him walk. They slowly shuffled across the cell until Crutchie lost his footing and went down with a crash. He yelped, and pushed Rosa away as she helped him sit up. He scooted away from her, drawing his legs in around him. "We's gonna be stuck in 'ere anyways, why're you doin' this?" he asked all at once, looking over his shoulder to her.

"Because," she answered, and sat in front of him. "I like you." With a swish, she drew her dress in over her legs, and folded her hands together. "Now that we're all comfortable, let's talk about us. Since we're going to be roommates, I want to know everything about you."

Crutchie glanced up at her, confused. "Ya do?"

"I do. You start. Where did you say you were from, again?"