Winter, 1895

"What're we gonna do, Jack?" Crutchie asked quietly.

"I dunno," Jack said. He cursed under his breath. "If the darn kid hadn't been out in the snow for an hour chattin' up some factory girl, he wouldn't be sick in bed right now!"

Crutchie grinned sympathetically. "Hey, you's the one what named him Romeo."

"I ain't the one who did that!" Jack defended. "That was all Race."

Crutchie's smile faded some. "Speakin' of Race, how's he holdin' up?"

"Race is his usual cheerful self when he's had three hours a' sleep," Jack said wryly. "He ain't sick yet, but he's tired. The idiot's spent two nights jumpin' outta bed if Romeo even coughs." In spite of his words, he knew he would do the same in a heartbeat.

If Romeo would let him, that is. Lately, the younger boy had been very picky about who he spent time with. Race guessed it was the because of both Butch and Lou leaving in such a short time, or because of the memories dredged up by Jack's time in the Refuge, or because of the daily threat of being soaked by the Delanceys. Whether one of those things or a combination of the three, Romeo wouldn't let anyone other than Race touch him. With him being sick, that made things complicated. Race was stretched thin trying to sell papes and look after his little brother, and the lack of sleep was making him grumpy and irritable. Jack and Crutchie had been dropping in on them frequently during the day, making sure everything was okay.

Crutchie changed positions, stretching his bad leg out in front of him on the battered sofa. "We could-"

He never got a chance to finish his sentence. A rumpled, sleepy-looking Romeo wandered into the room, looking disoriented and confused.

"Hey, pal," Jack said, getting to his feet.

"Hey," Romeo mumbled, curling up next to Crutchie on the couch. Laying his head on the crippled boy's lap, he fell back asleep almost immediately. Jack and Crutchie shared astonished glances.

"He's out of it," Jack said with a grin.

"Where's Race?" Crutchie questioned.

"Sleepin', if he knows what's good for him," Jack replied. "Look, Crutch, I can sell the rest a' ya papes today. Ya gotta handle on things here?"

Crutchie glanced down at Romeo, asleep in his lap with his dark hair sticking out in all directions. "Yeah, I can take care a' things here," he said.

Jack grinned and nodded his thanks. Settling both news bags over his shoulder, he headed out the door, whistling cheerfully as he did.

"Arthur leapt upon the rock and laid his hands on the hilt," Crutchie said, reading slowly from his battered copy of King Arthur. He was one of the few newsies who could read beyond just making out headlines, and he enjoyed practicing. "In one quick mo... mo-tion... he drew the sword from the stone!"

A small clatter upstairs cut him off. "Romeo?"

There was the sound of a small elephant -or Race- tromping down the stairs, and then the blond-haired Italian appeared in the doorway, looking panicked. When he saw Romeo with Crutchie, still asleep, he immediately relaxed.

"There ya are," he said. With a relieved sigh, he flopped down next to Crutchie, lifting the younger boy's bad leg gently into his lap. "I fell asleep," he said sheepishly.

Crutchie grinned. "Ya needed sleep," he said. "Ya prob'ly still do."

Race shook his head. "Nah, I'm good," he said. He reached for the copy of King Arthur. "Lemme read for awhile. Ya needs your rest, too."

Crutchie passed the book on to him without complaint, settling back against the worn-out cushion.

"Arthur held the sword in his hand, and it was his," Race read aloud.

At the sound of his brother's voice, Romeo's dark eyes opened. "What's goin' on?" he murmured, still not fully awake.

Race ruffled the younger boy's hair. "Ya decided ta replace me, that's what," he joked.

Romeo half-lifted his head to look around the room, and his face flushed red when he realized he had fallen asleep on Crutchie. "I thought ya was Race!" he blurted out. "I was still half-asleep, and ya both have blond hair-"

"It's okay, Rome," Race interrupted with a grin. "It's good ta see ya sittin' with someone else without throwin' a screamin' fit."

Romeo scowled, resuming his spot propped up against Crutchie. "I don't throw screamin' fits," he said.

"Right," Race corrected himself. "Temper tantrums, more like it. What are ya, nine years old, or four?"

"I'm almost ten!" Romeo protested.

"Race, keep readin'," Crutchie interjected, playing the peacemaker as always. "I wanna know what happens ta Arthur, if he gets ta be king or not." He had no desire to be caught in the middle of one of their infrequent fights. When Race and Romeo went at it, it was a nightmare for everyone involved.

"I already know he gets ta be king," Race complained. "The book's called King Arthur, ain't it?"

Even so, he flipped the book open and continued from where he left off. "He wrapped the sword in his cloak, for it shone so brightly..."

Jack trudged up the stairs to the lodging house, chilled to the bone, leg-weary and exhausted. He had managed to sell 153 papes that day- enough to give him, Race, Romeo, and Crutchie each some money for tomorrow. Hopefully Romeo would be back on his feet by then. The kid had seemed pretty out of it earlier.

Shaking his head with a grin, Jack pushed open the door to check on his boys. The sight that greeted him made him smile. All three boys were asleep on top of each other. Romeo was wedged comfortably in the corner of the sofa, his head resting on Crutchie's chest. Crutchie's bad leg was stretched out on Race's lap, and Race's head was pillowed on Crutchie's shoulder.

With a slight smile, Jack dumped his two newsbags in the doorway and crossed to the couch. Resting his hand on Romeo's forehead, he nodded in satisfaction. The boy's fever had gone down. Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Romeo's forehead. Brushing back Racetrack's blond curls, he kissed his forehead as well. He hovered a moment over Crutchie, making sure he was okay. That kid had never exactly had an iron immune system, ever since the polio had eaten up his leg and sapped his strength years ago. Finally convinced Crutchie was alright, Jack kissed his forehead and headed for the doorway.

"Sleep well, boys," he said, flicking off the lights. Then he added as an afterthought, "Love ya, brothers."

(A/N): Hey, lovely people! This chapter was for a special reader, Obsessed2k17, also known as SomedayonBroadway. I finally managed to write something that was 90% fluff and I thought of you, lol. Enjoy the brotherly fluff about our favorite boys! To the rest of my readers, you should definitely check out SomedayonBroadway's stuff! Her stories are pretty amazing.

On another note, I'm so sorry I was MIA for so long! Now that the summer is coming to a close and summer camps aren't going on anymore I should be able to write more often. As always, I'm open to requests... not just for this story, either. I love writing for all the Newsies. :) I would also love to get to know some of you, so please don't be shy with reviews/PM's!

Remember to read, review, follow, favorite, and keep carryin' the banner! (Oh, and good luck to everyone in the Pape Selling Competition!)