"Oh, sweet Jesus..." Crutchy's smile and lighthearted mood quickly disappeared. Living on these streets, the boys had seen all forms of cruelty and violence and brutality. They'd witnessed friends, brothers, beaten mercilessly by scabbers and police officers, seen mere children dragged off carelessly to the Refuge. They were sure that they had probably, unwittingly, even seen a murder or two. But never, never had they seen girls beaten and used like this, mauled and tossed away like so much garbage.
Tonight, these were not the streets they lived on and loved.
"Crutchy. Tibby's is just a street over. Jack's there... get him. Hurry." Skittery walked into the alley as Crutchy scurried off, nearly falling over in his rush. The tall boy kneeled down between the girls, placing a hand on the back of the one who shivered and cried. She sobbed in fear, her muscles tensing against his touch.
"Please, don't!" she screamed, trying her best to move away from him. "No more... I can't..."
Skittery lifted his hand, making a soft "shh" noise as he brushed her limp copper hair from her face. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm here to help." Sighing as she still cowered from him, he placed his fingers against the throat of the other girl. Weak though it was, there was a pulse. "Not dead," he mumbled to himself, half in disbelief. "Unconcious."
Jack appeared, panting, not even seeing what was in the alley. "Skittery... what... the... hell... do you..." As Skittery nodded to the girls behind him, Jack's eyes went wide. "What happened here?" His friend shrugged, looking at his leader expectantly.
"What do we do, Jack?" Jack always knew what to do. Jack always had a solution for everything. Always.
"I don't... we gotta... they need a doctor. It's too late tonight. We gotta take 'em to the lodging house. They need a place to stay for the night."
Skittery looked to the concious girl, looking in terror from him to Jack. "We're gonna take you home with us." Her eyes widened and her face blanched. She shook her head. "You'll be okay. No one will touch you. Newsies knows to be good ta ladies. You and your friend will be safe there, you'll have a place to sleep with a roof over your head. You'll be okay, I promise."
Jack lifted her limp companion into his arms. Jack was stronger than Skittery, gentler, he knew how to take care of people.
"I'm going to pick you up," Skittery said, as he straightened her skirt over her legs for her. "I need you to hang onto me, okay?" He lifted her battered body and she wrapped her arms about his neck. The dress that must have been beautiful once was now tattered and nearly destroyed, the bodice ripped, and a breast lay partially exposed. The situation may have been erotic, had she not been so badly hurt and had Skittery not been so terrified. He grabbed one of the papers he hadn't managed to sell that day and unfolded it, laying it over her chest in modesty.
The sun shone brightly in the dormitory of the lodging house, illuminating the sheets draped around two bunks the boys had pushed together. Skittery and Crutchy stared blankly at the white linens, wondering whether the girls would wake up today, and if they did, what horrors that would bring to light.
There was a rustling behind the sheets, followed by a loud "thunk!" as a head came into contact with the upper bunk. A rather unladylike oath could be heard, and the boys smirked. Skittery rose and walked over to the bunk, moving the sheet aside. "Mornin'," he said, putting on the friendliest smile he could muster under the circumstances.
"Who are you? Where..." The girl stopped to think a minute, and tears began to fill her bright green eyes. "Oh, God."
"My..." Skittery cleared his throat and straightened himself. "My name's Skittery. What's yours?"
The girl looked up at him skeptically, her eyes cutting into his like knives. Her face was beautiful, despite the cuts and bruises and black eyes. Her lower lip was bloody and swollen, but Skittery imagined her mouth was naturally full. She sized him up, decided he was decent – a little dirty, disheveled, but good-looking nonetheless.
"Anna. Anna O'Malley." Skittery smiled. O'Malley. Irish... that would explain the slight lilt to her voice and the rather foul mouth she tried to hide. He nodded to the girl sleeping beside her, and she looked over. "Oh. Oh, shit." Definitely Irish, he decided, then realized the reason for her cursing. "That's Elise... my cousin." Her eyes swam with worry and disbelief.
"She's okay. She's banged up pretty good, but she rolled over during the night, she can move. I don't think she's unconcious anymore, just sleepin'." He smiled comfortingly at her. She sighed in relief and leaned back against the old and lumpy pillows she had been given the night before.
Another young man appeared at the sighed of the bed, wearing a grin that could chase away the blackest raincloud. "Gonna introduce me, Skitts?"
Skittery laughed. "Anna, this is Crutchy. Crutchy, this is Anna O'Malley, and that over there is her cousin, Elise." Crutchy grinned wider and swept his hat off his head, going into a deep bow that drew a chuckle out of Anna.
"Welcome, m'lady, I hopes you find our quarters suitable..." he tried his hardest to sound like an English gentleman, but failed miserably with his thick New York accent.
At Anna's nervous laughter, Elise opened her eyes. A weak hand reached out to grab hold of her cousin's, shaking as she did so.
"Anna, where are we?" Elise tried to look around, seeing only the makeshift curtains and small bloodstains on her sheets and blanket. "They're not here, are they?"
Whoever she was referring to, Anna blanched at the thought. She shook her head.
Crutchy and Skittery looked at the girls, puzzled. Who were 'they,' and why were these girls afraid of them?
A/N: Sorry, kind of a crappy ending to the chapter. Ah well. I promise this will get good. :) What do you guys think so far? Please R&R! -Layne