Unscripted (Jack & Crutchie)

Chapter 4 - Nightmare

Criticism spot!

TRIGGER WARNING -  CHILD ABUSE. If you cannot read about abuse, I recommend skipping this ENTIRE chapter.

Crutchie's POV

I'd been using my crutch for about two weeks now, but my ankle wasn't getting any better. Every night, Jack would help me try to walk, but it would always end with tears from me and comforting from him. Last night, he told me we should stop for a few nights to see if that helps. I knew he wasn't, but it felt like he was giving up on me.

I had only been selling papes for a week now, but it was going pretty well. Jack and I had also come up with a system for me to get up and down the ladder. I hold the crutch and use one leg (obviously) halfway up, he grabs my crutch once he can reach it, and then I finish the climb. Going down is far easier. I just throw my crutch to him and climb down.

"Crutchie, you can take a break if you need to," Jack said concerningly. I was near the top of the ladder, but I was running out of energy to finish. I was still real weak, and had bruises and cuts still covering me.

"No no, I can make it up. I'm almost there." I assured. I didn't want Jack to think I was too weak. Beads of sweat fell down my face, and my loose clothes blew against my skin with each gust of wind, acting as a sort of fan.

I gripped the next ladder ring with my hand and attempted to climb. As I pulled myself up I shook from exhaustion and held my breath so that pain didn't shoot through me from my injuries. As my foot met the next step, I took a deep breath and prepared for the rest.

"Here, Crutchie, lemme help you-"

"No!" I immediately yelled back, looking up at him with anger flowing through me. "I'm fine. I can do it myself." Jack remained quiet as I got ready to climb again. I put my hand around the next ring of the ladder, tried pulling up, but I couldn't. I couldn't hold myself anymore.

I looked down and set my forehead against the ring that was directly in front of my face. I punched the ladder out of frustration, and began breathing heavily. Jack reached his hand out silently, and I slowly took it.

He pulled me up and I kept my eyesight off of him. I was grateful that he helped, I wasn't mad at him. I was mad at myself, and it was clear that he knew that.

It didn't help that raising my arms above the middle of my torso was horribly painful, so getting on the ladder was hell. Jack could see how tired I was, and he walked over to me, silently unbuttoning my shirt as he knew I couldn't get it off myself with how much pain I was in.

I closed my eyes as he did so, still panting with tears in my eyes. He slipped my arms through the sleeves, and hung my shirt over the railing for the next day. He knelt down behind me and began cleaning the cuts that were still left on my back, as he did every night. As he finished checking the bruises and cuts on my stomach to see if they were healing, he stood up, and... Did he just kiss the top of my head? No, I'm imagining things.

I laid down, still feeling weak and extremely exhausted. Jack walked to his part of the penthouse and laid down as well.

"Nite, Crutchie." He said sweetly, knowing I was still upset. I couldn't bring myself to respond, I was far too angry and in too much pain. I think he could tell. I closed my eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

I began dreaming about my Dad again.

"Honey, how about we go for a walk to calm down?" My Mom quietly asked my Dad as he eyed me while I was hiding behind her.

"I don't want to go for a fucking WALK." He yelled, slapping my Mom so hard that she fell. I knew what was coming, so I ran up the stairs to my bedroom, where there was a lock on the door.

"Run, Charlie!" My Mom screamed. As she did, I could hear my Dad hit her again before his heavy footsteps grew closer.

I slammed my door behind me and locked it, looking around for where I could hide. I spotted the closet, but before I could even get to it, my Dad broke the door down.

"You've REALLY pissed me off now, Charlie." He said, grabbing me by my shirt. I was a small child, so it was very easy for him to pick me up from just the collar of my shirt. He threw me to the ground and the wind was knocked out of me. He then began punching me in any area that I was vulnerable in. My Mom ran upstairs, trying to pry him off of me, but all that did was make him angrier.

"Crutchie! Crutchie!" I woke up in a cold sweat, hearing someone's voice.

"No, Dad please! Stop!" I yelled, trying to pry myself away from whoever's hands were on me.

"Crutchie! Cru- Look at me!" The hands I felt grabbed my shoulders, turning me towards them. I looked and saw that it was Jack, trying to wake me. "It's me!" He assured, worry apparent in his face and voice.

I sat there for a few seconds as I caught my breath, eyes still locked in with Jack's. I crumpled into Jack's arms, sobbing and breathing heavily.

Jack's POV

Crutchie was clinging to my shirt as hard as he could, as though he wanted to never let go. I sat down fully, putting my arms around him and setting him in my lap. He rested his head directly under mine, snuggling in tight. He was shaking horribly. You would think he was freezing cold or something.

We stayed there for a while as he cried, and I continued to reassure him that he was safe. Eventually, his breathing calmed and he stopped crying. He remained in my lap, still clinging to my shirt.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?" I asked cautiously. I can usually guess his answer to questions by his face, but this time I couldn't tell what he'd say.

"Yes." He whispered so quietly that I nearly didn't hear him.

"Okay." I replied, taking him out of my lap and laying him back down, brushing his hair out of his face. I began to stand up, when he grabbed my arm.

"Wait-" He said, looking me in the eyes. "Could you, uhm..." I knew what he wanted to ask, but he was far too nervous to do so. I was glad that he wanted me to stay with him, because I wanted to be with him for the rest of the night, too.

Before he was able to change his mind out of fear, I answered "of course." He looked at me, shocked. I laid down next to him, our shoulders touching. As we began to drift off to sleep, I felt his hand try to hold mine. I blushed deeply, and interlocked my fingers with his.

Word count - 1217