A/N: Hey, everybody! I hope all y'all had an amazing Christmas! Mine was relaxing and Southern-y as usual (aka it was hot XD)!
I hope you guys are still enjoying this story; I appreciate the reviews more than y'all know! :D
The three boys were scrambling down the ladder and inside the lodging house within seconds.
Jack shoved past the group of newsies gathered at Crutchie's bedside, the Racer's words still swirling around in his mind. "What's wrong?" he demanded breathlessly.
Mush glanced up at Jack, clearly flustered. "He just started breathin' hard and gasping all of a sudden. He's real hot, too." He gestured to the crippled boy on the bunk.
Jack squeezed in next to Mush and placed a hand on Crutchie's forehead. He jerked it back in surprise, his own heart pounding. How is he so hot?
What was he supposed to do? There was no one to turn to; Jack was the one the others looked to for guidance.
He took a deep breath and turned around. "Race, you grabs some more water," Jack instructed, taking the wet cloth Mush offered and moving to place it against Crutchie's flushed cheek. "Quick."
Race bolted without having to be told twice.
"The rest of ya, back away. Give us space." Jack craned his neck to watch the worried group of newsies scatter. They returned to their bunks and the table in the corner, but all eyes were still on Crutchie.
"Mush, see if you's can find some more rags or somethin'," Jack barked out. Mush nodded and hurried away.
A pitiful moan rose from the sick boy in the bed. He choked on a cough and gasped, floundering for air.
"C'mon, kid," Jack murmured, rubbing Crutchie's chest gently. "Breathe."
Eventually, the shortness of breath passed, and Jack sighed in relief. But the fever...it was bad. Jack hadn't ever seen anyone with a fever so high—and he'd dealt with a lot of fevers in his time. Crutchie tossed and moaned, fever-bright eyes blinking open and shut. "S'hot," he muttered, half-conscious.
"I know," Jack agreed, although the lodging house was a far sight from even warm. He wrung the rag out again.
Mush and Race returned within the next few moments. They followed Jack's instructions, using the wet rags in an attempt to cool Crutchie down. Jack wished he had enough money to get a doctor to look at the boy. But that wasn't an option. They'd have to make do with what they had. They had to get Crutchie's temperature down, and fast.
"Will he be okay?" one of the younger newsies dared to speak up.
As Mush took over attempting to reassure the others, Jack's heart came to a stuttering stop.
He'd promised everyone—Race, even Crutchie—that the boy would be fine. He'd told himself the same. But in that moment, the possibility, the slight idea that those reassurances weren't true filled his mind. What if Crutchie wasn't okay? How could Jack go on without the kid he called little brother?
Jack set his jaw in grim determination.
I can't lose him.
Jack blinked his eyes open and blearily gazed around. He must've dozed off at some point in the early hours of the morning.
His memory was somewhat fuzzy, but he remembered sending the sick kiddos to bed and moving non-stop, barking out orders at the others, all of them working to get Crutchie's fever down. It seemed like hours had passed before they'd been able to lower it. Not quite to where Jack would've liked, but enough that some of the concern faded.
Eventually Crutchie had stopped tossing and crying out, falling into what seemed like a restful sleep. Jack hoped the rest would do the kid good.
His sore shoulders screamed in protest as he stretched, shifting in the chair he'd hauled over to the bunk. Race was curled up against the side of Crutchie's bed, gripping the boy's wooden crutch in his hands as he slept. Jack vaguely recalled the younger boy refusing to return to his bunk when he'd finally sent the older boys to bed.
Jack's eyes drifted over to the tiny blond in the bed and was surprised to see a pair of exhausted blue eyes gazing back at him.
"Crutch?"
The kid smiled weakly. "Hey, Jackie." His voice was hoarse, but it was there.
Jack was on his feet in an instant, reaching a hand out to check the status of Crutchie's temperature. Cool, sweat-soaked skin met his touch.
"Your...your fever's broke," Jack stuttered, hoping he wasn't imagining the fact. Did he dare believe the kid was finally on the mend? "You's okay." He dropped onto the bed beside his friend, relief washing over him in a giant wave. "You's okay," he repeated, raking a hand through his dark hair.
Crutchie licked his lips and frowned, gaze sliding downward. "Yeah, I's fine. Why's Race on the floor?"
Something between a laugh and choked sob bubbled up in Jack's throat, and he dropped his hand on Crutchie's head, burying his fingers in the damp blond hair. "He's okay, kid," he muttered. "Everything's okay."
Relief enveloped him once again as he realized that, for the first time in over a week, the words were true.
Whew, looks like Crutchie's gonna be okay! We've got one more chapter to go. I'm hoping to post that in the next couple of days, so leave a review and stay tuned! Love you awesome fansies!