It was mass chaos. Nothing was going as planned, Crutchie could see that right away. They were clearly outnumbered and were on their way to a losing fight, despite their strong anger and determination. Crutchie ducked out of the way of a scabber running towards him and tripped him with his crutch. He then looked around for Jack. Jack was taking in the scene around them, watching as a policeman ignored Racetrack and slapped him across the face. Crutchie didn't have to wait to hear it to know what was going to happen.
"Run!" Jack shouted, admitting defeat and bolting for the gates himself. But Crutchie was already halfway there. He stopped momentarily to make sure his friends were running out of the gates too. He watched as Racetrack, Bumlets, Mush, and Specs went sprinting past him. Crutchie felt relief as he watched some of the last boys get out. They were going to get out of this. Then his stomach dropped, realizing there was one person he hadn't seen run to safety. Then he heard the scream and looked up.
It took him one second to take in the scene before him. All he saw was Oscar Delancey grabbing, groping, and carrying Dollface away, as she screamed for help. His blood boiled and a flash of anger surged through him. Adrenaline pumped through his body as he made his way back inside the circulation center. He didn't know how he got over to them. He didn't even realize he had punched Oscar in the face or that Dollface had gotten away. He only felt a tugging on his arm that brought him back to reality.
"Let's go!" Dollface was shouting at him, pulling him towards the gate. Maybe it was because his only concern had been getting Dollface to safety. Maybe it was because everyone had escaped. But for whatever reason, Crutchie didn't notice as Morris pushed Dollface away from him and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground.
The pure surprise of the punch was what did it. Crutchie's heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he slammed to the ground, not knowing exactly what had happened. Then he looked up and saw the Delanceys advancing menacingly toward him. Then through Morris's legs, Crutchie saw Jack pulling Dollface away, pulling her towards the gate and towards safety. Then Morris kicked him in the side, blinding him with pain.
"Yeah, ya like that?" Oscar taunted. He bent down and grabbed Crutchie's shirt, pulling him up to his face. "Ya ruined my chances with Dollface, ya lousy crip." He shoved him back to the pavement, smashing his head hard. Crutchie's vision went blurry for a moment. Then his blood went cold when he heard that voice.
"Thank you boys. I'll take it from here," Snyder said, tossing the Delanceys a coin. They hungrily grabbed at it and walked off, laughing. When Crutchie was finally able to see again, there was no sight of Dollface. Then Synder loomed over him, his crutch in one hand and a dark smirk on his face.
"You little brats deserve this," he snarled, raising the crutch above his head.
"At least Dollface ain't here to hear me scream," was the last thought that entered Crutchie's mind as Snyder brought the crutch down on his stomach. Then his stomach again. Then his bad leg. Crutchie cried out louder with each hit, finally choking back tears as it felt like his leg had been ripped off his body. He heard the clatter of his crutch on the pavement and felt Snyder roughly grab him.
"Off to the refuge for you, little man," he spit out, slapping handcuffs on his wrists. "Take him boys." He snapped at Oscar, who gladly walked over and grabbed Crutchie's bad leg. He twisted his leg and flipped him over to his stomach, making Crutchie scream again. He looked around desperately for a way out of this as Oscar dragged him away.
"Jack! JACK!" he screamed out, knowing Jack would be the one to come through. Then Dollface appeared, followed by Jack, from behind a turned over cart. She started running to Crutchie, who reached out his hands, wishing she would reach them in time. But Jack grabbed her and held her back.
"CRUTCHIE!" she screamed, tears running down her face. Jack had to pick her up and carry her away screaming. Crutchie was pulled behind the circulation office and out of eyesight but he heard her screaming for him. "NO! CRUTCHIE!"
"I'll be ok-" Crutchie started to scream to her, hoping she would hear, but was cut off as Morris covered his mouth with his dirty hand.
"Don't worry, Crutch," he said, smiling a disgusting smile. "We'll be sure to take real good care of her for ya." Despite the immense pain he was in, Crutchie found it in him to kick Morris in the groin with his good leg. Morris's hand fell away as he collapsed over in pain.
"And we was gonna be nice to ya," Oscar said, punching Crutchie in the face. "Looks like you can say goodbye to that." He kicked him in the stomach and chest several times before a final kick to the head sent Crutchie into a world of darkness.
Crutchie came plummeting back into reality all at once. He coughed and choked on the cold water that had just been thrown at him and sat up, wiping the water from his eyes. Immediately, the pain in his body came back. Every movement sent a stabbing pain through his ribcage. His pounding head felt like it would explode. His leg throbbed every time he breathed. He placed a hand to his head to try and steady himself but felt something wet and sticky that was not from the water. He drew his hand away to see it covered in blood. He felt something besides the water trickle slowly down his face.
"Well, well, well," Snyder mocked. "Look who's awake! You really scared us there boy. Thought the Delanceys might have killed you, especially with that nasty gash on your head. You'll have to thank Oscar's boot for that one." Crutchie said nothing but merely focused on sitting up against the wall. He gritted his teeth as his whole body shook with pain just from such a small movement. He looked around the room he was in. It was empty, except for Snyder and the empty bucket he had just used to toss water onto Crutchie. There was one door and one window, both barred and locked tight. There was only the light of two lit candles that were fixed to the wall. The room was cold, dark, and dank. It was everything Crutchie imagined the refuge would look like.
"Ok, kid, let's play a little game," Snyder said, crossing his arms and pacing in front of him. "I ask you a question and you answer. You answer honestly and you have nothing to worry about. You lie to me, boy, and I will give you something to worry about. Sound good?" Crutchie glared up at the man in front of him. He was certain most of the questions would be about the strike and swore he wouldn't give anything or anyone away.
"The first question is easy. What's your name?" he asked, stopping in front of him.
"Crutchie," he mumbled. His face stung as Snyder slapped him hard across the face.
"I know that ain't your real name boy," he said, his voice gruff. "So let's try again. What is your name?"
"Crutchie," he repeated defiantly, much louder than before. This earned him a punch this time.
"Look, Boyer, we can play this game all day long," Snyder said. "I know what your name is. You know what your name is but it'll be easier if you just say it. So one last time. What is your name?"
"Andrew," Crutchie said, spitting out some blood, his jaw throbbing. Snyder punched him where the gash on his forehead was, making him release an involuntary cry of pain.
"Boyer. Andrew Boyer," Crutchie said quickly, his voice cracking slightly. Snyder smiled and stepped back, cracking his knuckles.
"Alright next question," he said. "What are your next plans with the strike?" This was it. No matter what happened, Crutchie knew he was never going to rat out the newsies, not even the ones they had recruited that morning. They would be safe.
"I don't know," Crutchie said, unconvincingly. Unsurprisingly, Snyder didn't buy it. As Crutchie was kicked in the side, he was beginning to realize Snyder wouldn't believe anything he said, even if it was the truth. He just wanted to catch Jack and shut down the strike.
"We don't got any otha plans, we was just-" Crutchie started to say but was kicked again. He fell over, back on the ground, and clutched his throbbing side. "If you let me finish, you'd hear me say we take it day by day. We don't know what we's doin."
"Of course you don't know what you're doing," Snyder scoffed. "You're children. But there has to be one person who's smart enough to put this together. You may only be on day two of the strike but I know there was someone who you listened to. Now tell me, who is your leader?"
"We don't gotta a leada," Crutchie said. "We's a team. Just a buncha kids put togetha." But Snyder didn't believe him. He picked him up by grabbing Crutchie's shirt and kneed him in the groin. Crutchie yelled and felt like he could throw up from the pain.
"I know for a fact you have a leader," he said roughly, slamming Crutchie up against the wall. Snyder was the only thing holding him up. His head was spinning and his bad leg could barely hold any weight. Crutchie felt like he would collapse. "I have a source that tells me Jack Kelly is your leader. Makes sense too, don't it? But hey, what am I telling you this for? You already know who the source is, don't ya?" Crutchie's eyes grew wide with realization. He had been talking to Dollface the night before when Jack addressed the newsies questions and hadn't heard what he said. Snyder had gotten it out of her when she was briefly caught. That's the only way Snyder could know it was Jack.
"Speaking of which, where is she?" he asked, his eyes growing dark with eagerness. This was what he wanted to know. All the stuff about Jack and the strike was just to weaken him. Snyder was ready to get his hands on both siblings. But Crutchie merely laughed in his face.
"You think I'm gonna rat out on my boys, on my newsies," he said defiantly. "You think I'm gonna tell you where to go, when to do it, and who to arrest. If you think I'm gonna tell you anything about this strike, then you's nuts. But if you think I'm gonna give you any information on my sista, then you's flat out crazy." Snyder's face grew red with anger, his nostrils flaring, and he violently threw Crutchie to the ground. It felt as if his whole body would break in two. But he struggled to sit up, not wanting to give Snyder the satisfaction of knocking him down.
"You're a brat, you know that?" Snyder said ferociously, kicking him in the chest and pushing him back down. "You run away from your home with your kid sister-"
"We's twins, she ain't my kid anything," Crutchie interrupted, earning him a kick to the stomach. Crutchie instinctively rolled to his side to protect his stomach and chest.
"And you run away to the first place you find; the boarding house," Snyder continued. "The boarding house. Full of trouble making kids who lie and steal and cheat just to make a quarter a day. That house produces nothing but a bunch of lowlifes who are a waste of space. Just like you." Snyder kicked him in the back, making his release a small cry.
"You couldn't just put up with your father, who cared for you and fed you and put a roof over your head," Snyder said, stepping on either side of Crutchie and leaning down into his face. "So instead you ran away like the ungrateful little brats all you newsies are."
"We ran away so we wouldn't die," Crutchie said, leaning towards Snyder. "I made us leave so Dollface wouldn't get hurt no more. I did what I had to do to protect my sista. And I ain't eva thought twice about it."
"Which brings us back to the other Boyer," Snyder said, shoving Crutchie back to the ground. "Essie, wasn't it? Awful name, really."
"It was our motha's," Crutchie said angrily, through his teeth. Snyder ignored this.
"You tell me where she is and you two will be reunited again," Snyder said. "You tell me where she is and I can arrange for you to share a cell with her, a very special privilege here. Your very own cell. And you'd get to be with your sister again."
"I'd rather rot here for all eternity if it meant she was free outside," Crutchie said proudly. Snyder brought his fist down on Crutchie's bad leg, just below his knee. Crutchie was blinded by the pain. He screamed so loud his throat went raw as Snyder pushed down hard on the spot. Tears ran from his shut eyes and down his face as the pain grew more intense until finally he thought he would pass out. Then Snyder let go and kicked his leg.
"I would say that you do not want to become my enemy," Snyder said, kicking Crutchie's chest again, "But it's too late for that kid." Crutchie was nearly reduced to a screaming, crying child as he was kicked, punched, and slapped repeatedly. But still he would not tell Snyder anything. Not about the strike. Not about Jack. And most importantly, not about Dollface.
Finally, Crutchie knew it was over when the door opened and Snyder left, spitting at Crutchie who had been reduced to a shaking ball on the floor. Blood streamed from the gash in his head and from a cut on his lip. There wasn't an inch of him that didn't cry out from pain. The pain from his leg was unbearable. He felt paralyzed from the pain of it.
Two men walked in and picked him up from the ground. They were going to make him walk but when it became clear Crutchie was barely able to sit up, they simply dragged him between the two of them. Crutchie's head lolled to one side as he struggled to maintain consciousness. His leg throbbed painfully as it dragged useless behind him. He only hoped that he was being taken somewhere where he could rest, if only for a few hours. He was dragged down a long hallway, up three flights of stairs, and then down another hallway before finally coming to a stop.
"Enjoy your stay kid," one of the men mocked, unlocking the door. Crutchie was thrown inside and to the floor as a group of boys quickly moved out of the way. Crutchie rolled over to see the two men laughing at him in the doorway. Then Snyder appeared next to them, holding his crutch.
"Thought you might be needing this," Snyder said, throwing it at Crutchie and laughing when he cried out in pain. "Rest up, boy. There's plenty more where that came from." The door was slammed shut and locked, the laughter of the men fading as they walked further down the hallway and finally disappearing altogether.
as you can see, this story's going to be kinda dark and violent, so that's why it's rated M. also a good drinking game for this story would be to take a shot every time someone gets hit the groin. just saying.