Criticism spot! :)
Crutchie's POV
I shifted closer to Jack as I woke up from yet another nightmare, and cried silently. I laid there in silence for a while before I felt Jack shift, soon running his fingers through my hair.
"You alright?" He asked quietly, and I shook my head. "That's okay, just let me know when you're feelin' better. We can lay here until then." I couldn't help but smile a little, feeling truly loved.
A few minutes went by before I looked up at Jack, and he gently wiped my face dry with his thumb. I took a deep, shaky breath, unable to stop smiling.
"Nightmare?" Jack asked, and I nodded.
"One of those ones that feels very real," I mumbled, wishing we could go back to sleep. I rubbed my eyes, my smile dropping.
"You sure you're alright?" He asked, and I nodded again.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I just needed to calm down." Jack smiled at me as I spoke, and I felt my face grow hot. He then stretched before getting up, and I followed.
I got ready slower than usual, feeling emotionally exhausted after the previous day. As I buttoned my shirt, I felt Jack put his arms around me as he stood behind me, making me smile. He kissed me on the cheek, making me blush.
"Ready?" He said, and I nodded. "Go easy on yourself, alright?" I turned to face him, my smile only growing as we looked at one another.
On our walk to the square I remembered that Jack had said he'd let his soft side show in front of the fellas, and I immediately felt guilty. I then sighed, looking at him.
"Jack, you ain't gotta be soft to me in front of the guys, it's okay," I eventually said, catching him off guard.
"I'm just fine showing it, I'm just not fine with being that nice to everyone else. You're the only one I'm gonna be soft to, and they'll know that." He reassured me, and we went back to silence.
To my relief, Jack didn't need to show that side of him today, as it played out like any other. I hit a good stride while selling, and was nearing the end of my bag when a man walked right up to me, but didn't hand me any money. I wondered for a moment if I might've known him from somewhere, but no matter how hard I thought, I couldn't think of anything.
"Haven't seen you before, are you new?" He asked, and it was clear by the way he talked that he was one of those rich people.
"I've been sellin' for just a few months is all, sir," I said, smiling.
"Any specific reason?" I stared at him for a moment, confused.
"What do you mean?" I asked, and he chuckled.
"Any reason you suddenly started just a few months ago?" He snickered once more at me, but I ignored it.
"Needed to make money, sir," I answered, speaking quietly out of embarrassment.
"Don't you have parents?" He didn't wait for me to finish speaking before he chimed back in, making me grow just a bit irritated.
"Uh- no, sir, no I don't," I looked down at the ground for a moment before looking back at him, my heart starting to pound just a bit.
"What's your name, kid?" He asked, and I nearly let my real name slip. Thankfully, I caught myself, taking a deep breath.
"Crutchie," was all I said, wishing this guy would walk away.
"Well, Crutchie, since you're a newsie, do you think you could help me find someone?" He asked, and I shrugged.
"I can try, sir," he then turned to a nearby alley, motioning for me to follow. I did just that, not questioning it.
"I'm looking for a certain kid," he said once we had gone into the alley a bit, taking a piece of paper out from his pocket and unfolding it. "This kid has blonde hair, blue eyes, and apparently has a limp." He then looked at me, but I stayed silent, stunned. "You know anyone like that?"
"I- uh," was all I could get out, feeling like I couldn't breathe.
"Says here his name is... Charlie Morris. His Dad has been looking for him." He then folded the paper back up, putting it into his pocket once again. "You know a Charlie?" My mind raced as I began to panic, wondering if I should try to run. "That's what I thought," he eventually spat, pushing me to the ground and knocking my crutch out from under me. Before I knew it he had already grabbed it, beginning to hit me over and over with it, targeting my foot, as it was a clear weak spot. He hit it as hard as he could, and I felt the worst pain I ever had with every strike.
"Jack!" I screamed, unsure of what else I could do. Because of this, the man then targeted my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.
He then took handcuffs out of his back pocket, grabbing my wrists and tightening them. He hit me a few more times with my crutch to make sure I'd stay down before he got ready to drag me away, and I felt sick to my stomach as I imagined where he might take me. Before he could grab me, though, he was hit, knocking him out. I looked up to see Jack, terror in his eyes.
"Are you hurt?" He asked, and I could only nod my head, still unable to breathe. "C'mon, we gotta go," he said, grabbing my crutch and then picking me up without any hesitation.
The run home was a complete blur, as I was in a nightmarish amount of pain from how many times that man had hit me. Suddenly, I was in a bed, clutching at my stomach as I continued to wince.
"I'll get the pick," I heard someone say, not exactly sure who it was as my eyes were closed. I then felt someone else run their fingers through my hair gently, and it was clearly Jack. I still couldn't open my eyes, clenching my jaw tightly as though it'd help me to feel better.
"Just breathe, you're alright," Jack said quietly, the unmistakable sound of the door creaking open following. I then felt someone grab my wrists, and out of instinct from what had just happened, I flinched back, terrified. "Crutch, it's me, I'm just gettin' the cuffs off of you," Jack kept speaking softly, and I relaxed just a tiny bit, allowing him to take them off.
After a few more minutes went by I finally felt well enough to relax my body, no longer closing my eyes and clenching my jaw. I looked at Jack finally, seeing just how upset he was.
"Who the heck was that?" I asked, and Jack took a deep breath.
"Remember that guy I told you about a few weeks ago? Snyder?" I thought for a moment before I was able to remember, recalling how he said he had to run away from him and hide. I nodded, looking back at Jack. "He tries to get any kid he can in that god damn refuge, and I should've told you about him before but I forgot," he began to ramble, looking as though he could cry at any moment.
"Have you been there?" I asked, and he nodded slowly, looking down. "What was it like?" He tensed up as I spoke, and I felt bad immediately. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," I began, but he then looked at me, smiling kindly.
"No, no. You didn't upset me. I've just never talked about what happens there before. None of us who have been there really do. We all just... Pretend we didn't experience it." I sat up and scooted over so I was beside him, ready to listen. "They take in boys who they think are trouble or who have been caught doin' something illegal and put them in there. Every kid that they bring in gives Snyder more money, but instead of using that money for the boys like he should, he just keeps it for himself." Jack looked down as he spoke, seeming like he was in another world than I was. "They barely feed you, they beat you day in and day out, they scream at you, it's just a living hell in there," his voice began to shake a little, glancing at me. "Sorry, I'm probably scarin' you," he said, and I quickly shook my head.
"You ain't," I reassured him, moving closer yet. "I grew up with my Dad, what you're saying isn't anything I'm not used to," he finally looked back at me, smiling a bit, but quickly dropping it.
"I never want you to end up there. Ever." He said, speaking firmly. "I don't think you'd make it," he mumbled.
"I won't end up there," I tried to reassure him once again, and this time it seemed to work.
"I should've told you," he repeated, rubbing his eyes.
"Jack it's okay-"
"No it isn't, you could've gotten brought there!" He rose his voice, making me flinch and back far away from him. "I- sorry," he said, taking a deep breath.
"It's alright, I just got scared," I spoke quietly as I moved closer to him again, now leaning against him and resting my head on his shoulder.
"I should've protected you," he mumbled, staring at the ground.
"I know why you're so upset," I began, sitting up so I could look him in the eyes. "You want to shield me from any sort of danger like your sister." I said, and he stared at me for a moment, processing what I had said.
"I..." He began, looking away from me for a moment. "I don't want to lose you like I lost her." He said, starting to tear up. "You can't really defend yourself well because of your foot and your past, since you sort of just... Freeze from fear when anything that reminds you of your Dad happens, so I feel responsible. And I don't mean that in a mean way-"
"I know, I know. You're completely right." I said, calming him. "I don't know why I do that, though."
"It's upsetting as hell to see you so terrified. I just want to be able to make you feel better right away and make you forget your past. I try my best, but I'm new at this stuff so I don't always do well," he looked down at his hands as he spoke, only looking back at me once he had finished.
"I didn't know it upset you like that," I mumbled.
"Don't say sorry for it, 'cause it ain't your fault," he joked, and we both chuckled a bit. "But... It hurts to see you that way." I sat for a moment, thinking.
"What does it look like?" I asked, and Jack just stared at me for a moment, taking a deep breath.
"You can see the moment that a memory replays in your head. Like that one time when I opened the door to the lodging house and you smelt beer, I turned around to look at you and your eyes were wide with absolute terror and it was clear that one of your worst memories was replaying in your head like a moving-picture." He looked at me kindly as he spoke, taking one more deep breath before he continued. "When you wake up from a nightmare and look at me, I can tell that your head is insisting that your Dad is the one talking to you, not me. You stare at me and your face goes white, and your breathing is always real harsh. When you eventually realize it's me and let me hold you, you shake like you're freezing to death because of how scared you are. I hate seeing you like that, and that's why I want to protect you. So that you don't have to go through those things," he finished, looking at me.
"You do an incredible job of helping me," I said with a smile, and he smiled back. "C'mon, let's go home. You must be exhausted." He nodded and stood, handing me my crutch. As I went to stand, an extremely harsh wave of pain shot through me, making me sit right back down as I clutched my stomach. Jack quickly knelt down right in front of me, worry written across his face.
"Do you want help?" He asked after a few moments, and I nodded. "I'll help you to stand up, alright?" I nodded once more as Jack stood, trying to prepare myself. He then put his arm around my waist and helped me up, but another wave shot through me, making me clutch my stomach again and causing my legs to nearly give out from under me, as most of the pain was coming from my foot.
"Sorry," I said through the pain, feeling guilty for making things difficult.
"Nothin' to be sorry for," Jack said as he continued to hold me up, the pain not getting better, but instead worsening.
"It's getting worse," I managed to get out as I tensed up a bit more, unable to open my eyes from how bad it hurt.
"I'm gonna help you to the ground, okay?" Jack said, and I nodded. He gently brought me to the floor, allowing me to relax my body just a bit. "Where is it the worst?"
"My foot and stomach," I said, continuing to clutch tightly at my stomach.
"I'll be right back, okay?" He got up and left the room quickly, and I allowed myself to sit down just a bit more comfortably, waiting for him to return. Before I knew it the door opened, and I heard a second set of footsteps.
"Hey Crutchie, I'm gonna wrap your foot in this bandage-stuff, alright?" I heard someone say, and it was clear that it was Race.
"Let me help you to the bed," Jack began to help me up as slowly as he could, but I screamed out in pain as he did so. I was now lying back in the bed, trying to take deep breaths in order to help the pain. "I'm gonna lift your shirt to look at your stomach," Jack said, and I nodded to show I understood. I felt him slowly lift my shirt up, and I now clutched the blanket I was laying on top of since I couldn't do so to my stomach. "I'm about to put a real cold rag on the bruise, get ready." I was worried it would hurt as he did so, but to my surprise, I felt almost instant relief in that area. Unfortunately, my foot wasn't feeling any better.
"Alright, I'm about to wrap it. It'll take a bit of time since I'm gonna wrap it in order to make sure you won't be able to move it," Race said, and I opened my eyes to look at Jack, who was smiling at me with pity.
"Here, you can squeeze my hand," he offered, putting his hand out for me to take.
"I don't wanna hurt you," I said, another wave of pain shooting through me and causing me to tense up again.
"You won't, I promise," he reassured me, and after just a bit of hesitation, I took his hand. "I take it he hit your foot a bit?"
"He kept smashing it with my crutch and only stopped because I yelled for you, so he knocked the wind out of me so I couldn't scream," I said, and Jack looked even more worried. "It hasn't hurt this bad since my Dad broke it," I looked up to the ceiling, preparing. "Just get it over with."
"Ready?" Race asked one last time, and I nodded. The moment he made contact with my foot I squeezed Jack's hand as hard as I could, trying not to scream.
"Hold in there," Jack said, sounding upset. I closed my eyes tightly, hoping it'd be over soon.
It felt like I was there for hours as Race wrapped it, but I knew it had only been a minute or two. Finally, he finished, and I felt just a bit of relief once it was no longer being moved. I took a few deep breaths, opening my eyes and looking at Jack.
"Let's go," I said, letting go of Jack's hand. "Thanks, Race," I smiled at him as Jack helped me up, and I could tell that Race felt bad about having to cause me pain.
"Don't mention it. You should also rewrap it every morning for a few days, alright?" He said as we left, and I nodded.
Jack helped me to walk home, as I found it very difficult to use my crutch with the pain in my stomach. When we reached the penthouse he gently helped me to the ground, smiling at me.
"I'll help you change," he said, getting up and grabbing pajamas for me.
"It's alright," I began, feeling embarrassed.
"I know it'll hurt you to move your arms n stuff. It's okay," he said as he knelt down before me and helped me change, and I didn't protest. Once he had finished I laid down while he got himself changed, feeling exhausted. He faced me and I scooted close to him as I always did, closing my eyes. "Wake me if you need something, alright?" Jack said quietly, and I nodded, falling asleep minutes later.
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