I own it not.

"Hey Ten Pin."

Crutchie woke up with a start. He hadn't even realized he'd been asleep until the moment he was awake again. He still ached all over, though the blood had dried. The wound in his head was still open. He glanced around worriedly for the source of the voice. Surely Jack hadn't been captured again?

"You got a new guy here. Crutchie?"

Crutchie bit his lip, he looked around for Jack and finally saw him at the window. Crutchie drew in a great, steadying breath. He didn't want to be going crazy.

"The gimp? Yeah, I'll get him."

Ten Pin's voice broke through his panic. The boy was very nice, with a large, toothy smile. He'd talked to Crutchie for nearly an hour as he rubbed water on his many wounds. Crutchie wondered vaguely why Ten Pin was in his hallucination.

The boy was suddenly at his side. Crutchie looked up at him blearily. He had already decided this was a dream. "C'mon," Ten Pin pointed to the window. "It's the Cowboy."

Crutchie smiled. Even in a dream it was nice to see Jack suspended outside the window. He grabbed for his crutch, getting up and steadying himself on Ten Pin, who supported him to the window. Both his legs weren't working at the moment. He didn't miss dream-Jack's expression of surprise and anger at the sight of him not being able to walk.

"I don't believe it," Crutchie said truthfully, "I just don't believe it." He didn't usually believe dreams. "What'cha hanging around here for?" He glanced at the rope. His subconscious was getting very good with details.

Jack smiled a little painfully, Crutchie noticed that he was angry, "What do you mean 'what am I hanging around here for'? You know who's on the roof?"

"Who?" Crutchie let go of Ten Pin and clung to the window's bars for support as he craned his neck upwards, half-expecting a monster to jump out.

"David."

Crutchie caught sight of David. He was surprised that his mind had remembered what the boy looked like, he'd only seen him a few times in the two days since he'd known him. "Is that Dave? Hiya, Davey!" Crutchie grinned broadly. He was beginning to like this dream.

Jack put a hand on his. It was warm. Both of them looked surprised at how cold Crutchie was. Nobody was cold in dreams. "Hey Crutch, get your stuff, we're getting you out of here."

Exactly what Crutchie didn't want to hear. He gulped and glanced around, then leaned forward a little, "Well, actually...I ain't walking so good, Jack. Oscar and Morris, they kinda worked me over, you know?"

Jack looked angry when he said, "They hurt you?" Crutchie nodded, biting his lip at the memories of the stinking Delancey brothers. "Well," Jack continued, "Me and David, we can carry you out."

Why did everyone offer to carry him? He could walk by himself, he'd already proven that. Anger flared inside of him as he turned on Jack. "I don't want nobody carrying me, you hear?" seeing Jack's look of disappointment, so like that of the real Jack's, Crutchie turned his head up again, "Hey Dave, you know they're still talking about the time Jack rode out on that coach." He smiled again, the anger forgotten and dream-Dave snorted.

"Yeah, Teddy Rosevelt's, right?"

A flash of pain went through him and Crutchie managed a weak, "You've already heard the story." He shook his head, trying to rid it of the pain that was now throbbing there. Jack and David were starting to dissolve, blurred into nothingness, the same way all dreams ended.

A few more images were provided by his consciousness. Syder coming in, Jack leaving with a tug on Crutchie's arm, Ten Pin helping him get back into the small bed.

And when Crutchie awoke the next morning, he still remembered the dream. But now he was left with reality, and he was alone.

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