This one's a bit short because there's not too much I can do with it, but I hope you all like it!
Not slash!
Jack Kelly regretfully climbed the fire escape of the refuge, swallowing his own fear. His mind persisted upon him the painful memories of what happened in that building, the pain that was inflicted upon him and many others. Hands clasping the rusty, metal ladder, he kept pulling himself up, looking in each of the windows for a familiar face.
He made it to the third floor before he saw him, his young friend, his brother, Crutchie. The slightly chilled air was sucked out of his lungs at the sight of his friend, his body instinctually taking a step back. Nothing could've prepared him for what he saw, not even his time in the refuge added up to the pain he felt at the sight of Crutchie.
Crutchie lay on the top bunk of a bed, another boy beside him. His arm had a deep, bleeding gash on it, cut right through the shirt. His face was swollen and puffy, almost unrecognizable in the dim moonlight. One leg, his bad leg, hung off the side of the bed, the twisted limb looking even worse than usual.
"Crutch." Jack whispered, working the window open. From his experience at the refuge, he knew the windows were always open. Snyder and his guys usually beat the boys so bad they couldn't bend enough to climb out, unless, of course, they were willing to possibly die from their injuries.
Crutchie didn't wake up the first few times Jack quietly called his name, but eventually he stirred at the familiarity of his voice. Opening one of his eyes, he looked around the room, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw a figure in the window.
"Jack?" He whispered, turning his sore and broken body to face the window. The deep abrasion on his left arm stung like needles were being stabbed into every inch on it. The boy in bed beside him stirred, but if he woke up, he didn't say anything.
"Yeah, yeah it's me." Jack whispered, hoping Crutchie would have enough strength to get off the bed and come to the window. The sight of his brother laid up in bed, barely able to roll on his side, ripped his heart from his chest.
Crutchie tried to sit up, pulling himself up to sit on his elbows. The deep cut caused his arm to give out, his back hitting onto the bed again, shaking it a little. Crutchie didn't weigh much to begin with, so Jack was startled the bunk moved at all when he fell back.
"I'se can't." Crutchie whispered, telling Jack he couldn't move to the window. Jack felt like he was going to vomit, his stomach churned painfully in his body. He covered his mouth with his hand, doing his best not to cry.
"I'se sorry, Crutch." Jack sighed, running his hands through his dark hair. His voice trembled as he resisted sobs, guilty thoughts piercing his brain.
"Don't." Crutchie laughed slightly, putting a smile on his face. "I'se'll be fine, jus' give me some time."
"You's can barely move." Jack whispered nervously, wanting to climb into the room and be beside his best friend. But, he couldn't risk it. There was no way Jack wanted to be in the refuge again, the sound of his footsteps would alert a guard and he would be caught.
"Hey, I'se can move." Crutchie defended himself quietly, trying to sit up on is elbows again. He avoided the arm with the open wound, opting to rest on the bruised arm. Lasting a few seconds, he smiled at Jack, his face changing as he fell onto his back again.
The boy Crutchie was sharing the bunk lightly pushed him, weakly telling him to cut it out. Memories resurfaced in Jack's mind, memories of being beaten and squished together with other boys. He remembered Snyder beating him so bad he could barely move, just like Crutchie. Crutchie's bad leg made things worse, he couldn't fight back no matter how hard he tried.
"I'se'll be back, I'se promise." Jack whispered, taking one last look at his broken friend. Crutchie's eyes met Jack's briefly, one of them nearly swollen shut now. His eyes showed hope, despite what he felt inside and out.
Shaking, Jack slowly climbed down the fire escape, doing his best not to make sound. He couldn't believe what he had seen, he didn't want to believe what he'd seen. Almost the instance his feet touched solid ground, tears slipped down his cheeks.
Jack didn't want to go to the Lodging House and face the disappointed, angry boys. He didn't want to walk around and risk someone seeing him, but he especially didn't want to go looking for Kathrine or Davey. The chilly night air bit at his face and ears, the tears drawing the cold to his face.
He knew he couldn't get Crutchie out of the Refuge; he may as well give up on that now. So, that's exactly what he did. Jack gave up right then and there, deciding he probably wouldn't ever see his younger brother, his best friend, again.
There was nothing he could do.