#and i really think without santa fe meaning something else to jack you lose that found family feeling

[sourstiless]

something so fundamentally different between 92sies jack and livesies jack, that i think the broadway musical really missed the mark on, was how they interpreted his longing for santa fe.

everything is under the cut because i think too much

in 92sies, it’s made very clear that santa fe isn’t actually a place jack wants to go, rather a place he uses to cope with the feeling of being alone and not having a family. you deduce this from its timing in the movie and the lyrics in the song. the song comes right after jack leaves the jacobs’ home. the very first verse of it is:

so that’s what they call a family mother, daughter, father, son guess that everything you heard about is true

so you ain’t got any family well who said you needed one ain’t you glad nobody’s waiting up for you

this is right after the first time he’s had a real experience being around and involved in a family in a long time. right after we see him happily jump back into the family dynamic, happily pretending that he is apart of this family. you can see these are words he doesn’t actually mean, but rather words he’s using to assure himself that he’s okay with being alone, and not having what they have, even though that’s not true. (see lyrics: when i dream | on my own | i’m alone but i ain’t lonely)

and we know it’s not true because he lies about having a family waiting for him, and he tells sarah that he’s not used to whether he goes or stays mattering to anyone, and asks her if it would matter to her. in that scene, he’s asking her this because he doesn’t want to leave, he’s just waiting for someone to ask him to stay because he wants a reason to. he wants to matter to someone, and if that someone is in new york, he won’t leave because he doesn’t actually want santa fe, he wants a family. he wants to belong somewhere, and he knows that running off to santa fe isn’t going to fix that, he just hopes that it will because he’s never mattered enough to anyone else for them to ask him not to go.

in the last verse, he sings:

so you ain’t got any family ain’t you glad you ain’t that way ain’t you glad you got a dream called santa fe

once again, reaffirming that his actual want is to be loved by and belong to a family, not santa fe.

the importance of all this subtext and context clues comes from it’s placement in the movie. had it come at a different time in the movie, the song may have had a very different meaning, but it was put there on purpose. to show that he is just a kid who was forced to grow up too fast, who works for a society who continues to fail him, who just wants to be able to have someone who cares about him and wants him to stay, and who wants have a life where he doesn’t feel so alone, abandoned, or ostracized. that’s why the song(s) is so heart wrenching.

the song wasn’t about santa fe. it was never about santa fe, the song was about longing for a family, something he didn’t have the luxury of.

in livesies, they actively make it a place where jack genuinely wants to go, and where he thinks he can fix all his problems. and obviously there is nothing inherently wrong with that idea, but it does take out the emotional weight of what santa fe actually means to him, and what it’s actually a metaphor for.

both the movie and the show have two versions of the song, however changing the placements of where they are and changing the lyrics, changes the meaning of not only the song (obviously), but also the meaning of santa fe in the show and to the character themselves.

in the broadway show, jack is literally singing about santa fe. in the santa fe prologue, he’s singing about how much he wants to leave new york, and how it sucked the life out of his old man and that he’s not letting it do that to him. he sings about how all he wants to do is just get away to a place that sounds so much better, so much prettier and so much cleaner and where he’ll be able to live free with not a care in the world, unlike what he has now.

see lyrics:

where it's clean and green and pretty

plantin' crops splittin' rails swappin' tales around the fire ‘cept for sunday when you lie around all day

and

work the land chase the sun swim the whole rio grande just for fun

there is one verse in the prologue that alludes to wanting to belong to a family, and wanting someone to care enough to ask you to stay, however, it is a short lyric that is quickly overshadowed by jack telling crutchie:

i bet a few months of clean air you could toss that crutch for good

(which i cant even begin to explain why that’s a terrible lyric, and why it’s just not good representation in general. a friend of mine who is disabled has explained it better than i have the ability to, and i’ll link their post if you’re curious about that.)

the family line, does not get a lot of spotlight, and is drowned out by the sheer amount of praise being sung about the actual place, santa fe. jack wants to leave. he doesn’t want to stay, and he wants to take crutchie with him. in fact, he does call crutchie family:

don’t you know that we’re a family would i let you down

which continues to drown out the other family line in the song, because this line shows that jack thinks of crutchie as family, and implies that family is not something he desires at this point because he already has it, and if it is something he wants, it’s not nearly as important to him as getting out of the city. it’s also important to note that this is the very first song in the show. this sets the mood for the entire play. you get this sense the whole time that jack does not want to be there.

now, yes in the movie jack does say that he’ll be happy when the strike is over so he can leave for santa fe, but that comment is almost immediately followed up by him telling sarah that he’s not used to him staying or leaving mattering to anyone, and that’s why he said that. because people don’t normally care.

and this is not a dig on movie jack for “not considering the newsies family”, so i hope that’s not how that came off. because i do think that he does consider the other newsies family, especially given how he treats them throughout the movie. that being said, it’s not the same as having a mother, and a father, and a real home of your own. that’s the distinction between jack longing for a family in the movie, and jack already considering himself having a family in the broadway show.

when jack sings the reprise in the movie, it’s coming straight after the rally has failed, and he has been arrested. after he cuts david off in order to keep him out of the refuge, and his one chance to be apart of a family again is seemingly off the table. though he hasn’t scabbed yet, the look on david’s face when he turns to leave is a enough to insinuate that there is bitterness or resentment in feeling like jack is giving up, and leaving him, and their strike. he falls back on that dream of santa fe because his real dream is no longer tangible.

he’s in the refuge, the place that he was so scared of going back to, and he feels completely hopeless, and powerless in this moment. pulitzer and snyder have completely broken him down. he can no longer keep up the facade of being okay with everything happening in his life (we see crutchy’s reaction to this), he knows what he’s about to do next and that his friends aren’t going to understand why he’s doing this. he knows they’ll be rightfully hurt and they won’t forgive him, and so this place, santa fe, is all he feels he has left. everything else has been unwilling stripped from him.

this wholly differs from santa fe in the musical, where jack is coming from a place of anger, guilt, and some self pity. he wants to go to santa fe because he wants to run away from his problems. he doesn’t want to deal with any of this stuff anymore, and he’s mad at crutchy from not being able to escape. but the thing is, santa fe was jack’s real dream in the musical. it wasn’t a stand in for anything. he’s not singing about santa fe because he lost the only thing keeping his head above water, he’s singing about santa fe because he is at the end of his rope with pulitzer, and he just wants out. he has lost his patience. but he knows what he wants, and where he wants to go.

now, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with being mad and outraged for being mistreated by those who are more fortunate than you. obviously, that’s the whole premise of newsies and why they striked to begin with, and i’ve been on that end personally before. that being said, i think by changing what santa fe meant to jack for the broadway musical, it just lost so much of the emotional weight that came with it.

jack stays in new york in the movie because he never truly wanted to leave. he wanted a family, and he realizes, with some help from roosevelt, he finally has that. he’s not giving up his dream by staying, because he already found his dream. but in the musical, because they painted santa fe as something that he actually wanted. it feels like he’s giving that up for virtually nothing because he had never expressed wanting a girlfriend, wanting a family, or wanting to stay. yes he was offered a job, but he genuinely thought moving to santa fe would make his life better, that it would make his friends lives better. he listed out all the reasons he wanted to leave new york in the santa fe prologue. it never had anything to do with the strike, or with the price of the papes, but rather with the city itself, so why stay if you’ve never been shown to have any incentive to want to? why stay if you genuinely believe the quality of life is better elsewhere, especially when you have the opportunity to leave?

without the double meaning for santa fe, there’s just so much that seemingly does not make sense, along with the fact that you lose so much of the emotion from the original. in having santa fe really be a stand in for a family, you are constantly reminded of the fact that jack is just a child. a child who was abandoned by everyone in his life, and by his family, and all he truly wants is to have that again. you don’t get that same feeling when santa fe is the true end goal for him. to me, the story feels so lacking, so empty, without it. i really just think the broadway musical fucked up on that one big time.

[violetwolfraven]

Fix You

((Part 2 of Already Home! It’s written to Fix You by Coldplay! Btw it won’t really make sense unless you read Already Home first, so it might be in your best interest to read that before starting this. Enjoy, y’all!))

Tw: non-graphic injuries, the word wh*re, mentioned anti-semitism, implied period-typical homophobia, implied racism—mostly all by one guy but don’t worry they beat him up

...

“Jack?”

“What?”

Sophia looked worried, and Jack sighed, realizing she’d probably said his name multiple times already.

That happened sometimes. He spaced out and lost himself, thinking of home.

Of Crutchie, of Race, of Romeo and Elmer and Specs and Smalls and all the other newsies. Of Katherine and Sarah, Medda and Denton and Kloppman. Even of Spot and the other leaders of other boroughs, for Christ’s sake.

But especially of Davey. Mostly of Davey.

All he’d wanted was to come to Santa Fe to say goodbye to his grandfather. Instead, he’d gotten stuck here for months.

When you try your best but you don’t succeed

It was funny, wasn’t it? How he’d spent his entire childhood dreaming of Santa Fe—being obsessed with it, really, and now wanted nothing more than to get the hell out.

That was what he got for not listening to Davey. For holding on when he shouldn’t have.

Sophia was the one good thing that had come out of this. If Jack hadn’t come out west, he would never have found out he even had an aunt.

And he loved her dearly. She was the kind of good aunt that was okay with her nephew loving another boy and supportive of him wanting to leave her to go back to the city her sister had died in.

But she wasn’t home.

When you get what you want but not what you need

“Dinner’s ready,” she said, “I made your favorite.”

Jack smiled, standing up from where he was sitting on the porch, “Thanks, Aunt Sophia.”

“Well, we have to do something special for tonight, don’t we?” she asked as they went inside, “It’s your last night here.”

Jack nodded. He hoped his smile didn’t look as fake as it felt.

He’d been in Santa Fe for a year.

When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep

It really all felt like a dream, bittersweet and terrible, heartbreaking and lovely. It felt like coming home, to where his roots were, and simultaneously letting his highest branches, the parts that really saw the sun, die.

There was no shortage of sun or moon in Santa Fe. They just weren’t the ones Jack wanted to see.

He wanted to wake up on the rooftop of the Lodging House, where there were fewer stars, a colder sun, and a fainter moon.

After all, if he was on the roof in New York, it would mean that the brightest stars were all downstairs from him, safe in their beds in the forms of a unique, strange family of boys and girls. It would mean the sun was sleeping across from him, his smile below the horizon for the night. It would mean that the moon was either just across the borough, shining over his own brother and sister, or curled up safe in Jack’s arms, his light burning away even the worst of his nightmares.

He hoped they were all still there when he got home.

“I’m going to miss you, Jack,” Sophia admitted.

“I’m going to miss you, too.”

It wasn’t a lie. But Jack’s place was in Manhattan and Sophia’s was in Santa Fe. He didn’t know if he would ever see her again after tomorrow, but he had to believe that she would be alright here by herself.

“Tell that boy of yours ‘hello’ for me,” she said with a smile, “And your mama’s friend, Medda, tell her ‘thank you.’ For being there for Anita when I couldn’t be.”

“I will,” Jack promised.

Stuck in reverse

He would miss his Aunt Sophia, but knowing that he would be going home tomorrow morning, Jack was happy. He felt like he was finally waking up.

He guessed it wasn’t surprising that he couldn’t sleep that night.

Jack was excited to be going home, yes. He was going to miss Sophia, so that was bittersweet. But what he was really worried about was...

What he was really worried about was if his home was going to be there when he got back.

Jack choked on a sob, trying to keep quiet as his thoughts ran rampant.

When the tears come streaming down your face

What if somebody had died over the winter? They’d lost kids to sickness or starvation or cold before. Hell, they’d lost Jack’s mentor—the previous leader of Manhattan—that way.

Jack remembered that terrible day, sobbing so hard that he could barely hear Waffles’s goodbye. He was 14. They’d lost more than a few kids that year, and a good half of them had been under Jack’s watch. Since then, he’d lost a few more across two more winters, and it never got easier.

The only thing worse than watching someone he loved die would be them dying, and Jack not even knowing. Jack not being there for them.

When you lose something you can’t replace

He’d lost a year in Santa Fe. Besides just the fact that he had no idea what terrible things might have happened while he was gone, he had to have missed a lot of little things.

He wondered how much Smalls, Romeo, and the other younger ones had grown. He wondered if Puddles, the latest Little when he left, had started losing baby teeth yet. He wondered if Kath and Sarah had finally sucked it the hell up and admitted their feelings.

Oh, God, and Specs was only a little younger than Jack was. They were the oldests, and they were getting a bit old to be newsies. What if one of Jack’s oldest friends had moved on and he wasn’t there to see it?

Most of all, he was terrified to know, but he wondered if Davey was still waiting for him.

A year was a long time. He wouldn’t blame him for moving on if he had. After a year of nothing, what if Davey had assumed he was dead or never coming home and found someone else?

He’d come to Santa Fe out of love for his mother, because it was something she’d never gotten to do.

And he might have lost everyone he loved because of it.

When you love someone but it goes to waste

He hoped they’d held up alright without him. He just knew Davey would be too dumb to stay away if sickness came through. He would be right in the thick of it.

Sickness could kill you whether you had parents or not.

God, Jack was going to have a panic attack, just thinking about the possibilities of what might be happening without him.

Could it be worse?

He really hoped they were all okay.

...

Lights will guide you home

Jack hugged Sophia on the train platform, the feeling bittersweet but happy.

“I love you, Auntie.”

“I love you, too, Jack,” she responded, “Remember...”

“I’ll tell my friends you said hello,” he agreed, “Davey, too.”

“And Medda,” she reminded him.

“Yeah.”

“Tell her hello and thank you for me.”

The train whistle blew. Jack startled, knowing he had to go now.

“Go,” Sophia said quickly, “I love you. Go home to your family, Jack.”

Jack hugged her one last time, kissing his aunt on the cheek real quick, “Love you, too.”

With that, he ran off, lightning thrumming through his veins.

He was excited and terrified as he boarded that train, but the important thing was that he was going home.

And ignite your bones

The entire train ride was spent trying not to panic.

With nothing to do but think, Jack could just try to redirect his fears to more positive thoughts.

And I will try

Albert hadn’t finally antagonized the wrong person. Even if he had, the others had protected him.

Sniper’s father hadn’t killed her. Maybe she’d finally moved into the Lodging House for good.

Mush and Blink hadn’t gotten caught. They’d probably been warned by Davey and Race and Crutchie to be more careful in public.

Race hadn’t gotten his heart broken by Spot. In fact, Spot had probably saved his ass from at least one fight he couldn’t handle.

Crutchie hadn’t gotten sick too bad this winter. He’d stayed strong, and the others had helped him pull through.

Davey hadn’t moved on.

As much as Jack hated the idea of him hurting, he knew that Davey Jacobs was the last person he was ever going to love, and he was pretty sure that Davey felt the same.

Everyone he loved was still waiting for him in New York.

They probably missed him, but he could pick up the pieces when he got home.

To fix you

Hopefully.

...

And high up above or down below

“So, you’re sure we can’t avoid it?”

Race nodded grimly, “I ain’t one to rumble if we don’t have to, but Midtown’s been pushin’ since Hound aged out. If we don’t let ‘em know we won’t stand for it, they’ll move on our territory.”

Davey sighed. He’d liked Hound. He was a good kid, and now he was a good man. Under him, Manhattan and Midtown had been allies for years, but the new leader, Trumpet, wasn’t like him. And Davey knew that they couldn’t afford to lose territory on his watch.

Being acting leader of Manhattan was exhausting. He’d learned that the hard way over the last... a little over a year, now.

He’d been leading mainly by asking himself what Jack would do. He didn’t always do whatever that was, but now... he didn’t know what to do, here, truthfully.

When you’re too in love to let it go

He still asked himself what Jack would do.

“Dave, I don’t like it either,” Crutchie said from where he was sitting on the other side of the room, “But Trumpet ain’t gonna stop ‘less we make him. And besides, that ain’t even takin’ into account how he’s morally askin’ for it.”

“I get that you don’t like him,” Davey reasoned, “I don’t like him, either, but I’m still looking for a peaceful way to—“

“No, Davey,” Race interrupted, “Ya don’t know what he’s been sayin’. What I’s heard him say ‘bout you.”

“Why? What’s he been sayin’?” Davey asked, immediately on-guard. He didn’t like the idea of that certain newsie knowing certain things about him. And he definitely didn’t like the idea of him possibly knowing things about damn near all the Manhattan kids over the age of 14 by extension.

“Don’t worry,” Race said absentmindedly, “He don’t know nothin’ ‘bout queer stuff. But it’s damn near as bad. He deserves to get soaked on what he said ‘bout Kath alone, and—“

“Race, slow down,” Davey said, getting in front of him to stop his pacing, “What’s he been sayin’? Start with Kath.”

“He-he said...” Race growled under his breath, looking at the ground.

It must be bad if Race couldn’t say it.

Crutchie sighed, “He called Kath a whore.”

Davey felt anger flash through him, red hot, “Oh.”

“He used a lot of unsavory names,” Race growled, “Comments I ain’t gonna repeat ‘bout Mush and Specs for bein’ black, Sniper and Romeo for bein’ Asian, Crutchie for needin’ the crutch—he’s gotta go down.”

“He said things ‘bout me being Jewish, didn’t he?” Davey asked slowly.

Crutchie nodded, “About Sarah and Les, too, but mostly ‘bout you.”

Davey didn’t like the idea of a full-fledged rumble, but the way he was feeling right now, he wanted to pound Trumpet into the ground.

But if you never try, you never know

“I’d rumble just for what he said about Kath,” he said truthfully, “Go meet with Midtown’s second—pick a time and place.”

Race grinned and ran out the door.

Crutchie sighed, “He didn’t say it, but Trumpet said things ‘bout him, too, for bein’ Italian. He made a few comments ‘bout the others, but most of it was ‘bout you, me, and him.”

“Cause we’s the leaders,” Davey muttered.

He wondered if Jack had had to deal with this shit.

He probably had, though his Mexican heritage wasn’t immediately obvious in his face.

Davey knew he wasn’t as much of a fighter as his lover was. He didn’t know if he could lead Manhattan to win this rumble, but he had to try.

Just what you’re worth

“Come on,” he told Crutchie, “We need to get the others ready.”

They hadn’t talked about Jack in months, but he knew they were both thinking about him as they went to get Manhattan’s kids ready for battle.

...

Lights will guide you home

Davey stared across the road, the fading daylight of sunset over the two groups of newsies.

He didn’t know if he could be as strong as Jack would be, but he knew he would fight as hard as he damn could to defend the other Manhattan kids.

His kids. His and Jack’s, even if Jack wasn’t here right now.

He was realizing now, standing in front of them, preparing to defend their territory, that they were his family, as much as Sarah and Les and his parents were.

He was sure as hell going to fight for his family.

“If Manhattan wins, stay the hell off our turf!” he called to Trumpet, “If Midtown wins, you can have some of the territory you want!”

Trumpet laughed, “Yeah, whatever!”

Then he yelled something that made Davey see red, and before he knew it, he was feeling his knuckles bruise as his fist connected with Trumpet’s stupid nose.

And ignite your bones

He heard a crack, and the kid was on the ground, but Davey didn’t have time to feel good about that because he was already fending off another, taking a punch in the jaw as he fought.

He hadn’t felt so alive since the strike, the adrenaline of the battle toxic and exhilarating.

He wished he could enjoy it more.

But he kept looking for hazel eyes and a sarcastic smile, checking where one person was in all this, hoping to see that he was alright.

That one person wasn’t, because he wasn’t there.

And I will try

Davey forced himself to think of something else, to focus just on fighting instead.

He had to take care of Manhattan. His chosen family, and he couldn’t do that if he wasn’t in one piece, too.

To fix you

“It’s over,” Davey spat as the rumble ended, Manhattan having kicked Midtown’s ass.

Trumpet, on the ground, looked angry but picked himself up, calling to his kids and limping back towards his borough.

They were still kids, and normally, Davey would feel bad that he’d assisted in soaking them, but tonight, he couldn’t afford to care. He needed to get his own kids home.

“Alright!” he called, spotting one of his seconds and a few others who weren’t hurt too bad, “Specs, I need a headcount! Race, on the way home, I need ya to catalogue everybody’s injuries! Smalls, go run ahead and tell Crutchie to get a lot of first aid equipment ready! Let’s go, Manhattan! We’re going home!”

...

Tears stream

Jack was waiting by the door when the train stopped, practically bouncing around as it slowed down.

He hadn’t slept or ate the whole train ride.

Another passenger by the door smiled at him, “Excited, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack said immediately, “I’s been away a long time, but New York’ll always be my home.”

The guy looked surprised, and Jack realized that a year in New Mexico had made the slight Spanish accent he’d already been hiding stronger. He spoke like his Aunt Sophia now.

Like his mom.

As comforting as the familiarity of it was, a foreign accent wasn’t really a good thing for a newsie. Jack would have to get back into his thick New York accent, and fast.

He cleared his throat and managed to sound a bit more like his old self, “It’s good to be back.”

The other passenger nodded, still kind of baffled, and Jack jumped off the train before it was even fully stopped.

Down your face

He took a second to just breathe on the platform.

Jack hadn’t fully realized that New York had a smell before, but he was realizing it now, getting reaquainted with it.

He was happy to be home.

It was late enough that no newsies were out selling, and Jack adjusted his bag on his shoulder as he started walking, one step at a time, towards the Lodging House. He had to force himself not to run, because nothing looked more suspicious than a young man sprinting and Jack really didn’t want to waste time dealing with the bulls tonight.

A year was a long time, and Jack knew he could never get that time back, but he had to believe that nothing had changed too much.

When you lose something you cannot replace

Then he was standing in front of the Duane Street Lodging House and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe.

Taking a deep breath as he walked in the door, he was surprised to see one of the few adults he trusted still up at the front desk, writing something in one of his books.

Kloppman dropped his pencil out of shock when he looked up.

“Jack?”

“Hey, Kloppman,” Jack said awkwardly. He was staying quiet, knowing the others were all probably asleep upstairs with only a few possible exceptions.

The old man moved around the desk to wrap him in a tight hug, and Jack realized that he’d been so worried about missing his kids that he’d barely thought to miss Kloppman, but he definitely knew how much he’d missed him, now.

“It’s good to see ya, kid,” he said, pulling back to thump Jack on the shoulder, “Everyone’s missed ya.”

“And they’s okay?” Jack asked, “They all—“

“You worry too much for someone your age,” Kloppman interrupted, grumbling, “They’s fine. They’s all fine. There’s a few new Littles ya ain’t met, but we didn’t lose nobody. Even Specs ain’t found anywhere to move out to yet.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief, “Good. Winter don’t get cold in Santa Fe and I was pretty worried—“

“Are you cryin, kid?”

Tears stream

Jack shook his head, “No!”

He wasn’t. He was not crying because the fact that it was so good to be home wasn’t enough to make someone as strong as Jack Kelly cry.

“Jack?”

If Jack wasn’t crying before, he definitely was when Crutchie nearly tackled him to the ground with a bone-crushing hug.

Down your face and I...

“You’s...” Crutchie stared at his face as he pulled back, like he couldn’t believe Jack was actually there, “You’s here? Ya came home?”

Jack nodded, smiling through his tears, “I’m home.”

He decided to ignore the fact that tears were soaking into the shoulder of his shirt as Crutchie hugged him again.

Kloppman smiled at Jack over his brother’s shoulder, patted them both on the back, and went back to his work.

“So, how is everyone?” Jack asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, “‘Sides how nobody’s dead.”

Tears stream

He couldn’t bring himself to ask directly about Davey. Not in front of Kloppman, at least. And he did want to know how the others were, too.

“We almost lost a few to the flu, but we didn’t,” Crutchie reported, “‘Course, right now, everybody’s a bit banged up ‘cause we had a rumble with Midtown, but—“

“We rumbled with Midtown?” Jack asked, shocked, “But Hound’s an ally!”

“Hound retired. Trumpet became leader and y’know what an ass he is.”

“Right,” Jack said.

Truth be told, he didn’t remember Trumpet. But if he was enough of an ass that he’d provoked a rumble between two long-standing allies, he must be bad.

“Who won?”

“We did,” Crutchie reported, “Davey lead us to victory.”

Down your face

It was like the air had gotten sucked out of the room. Jack couldn’t respond.

“He’s been leadin’ since ya left,” Kloppman said, like it was simple, “I had my doubts ‘bout him, what with how he started the strike, but he really stepped up, that boy of yours.”

Jack’s mind zeroed in on the tail end of that, “What do ya mean by ‘that boy of—“

“I’m old, kid, not blind. If I could figure out Race was seein’ that short kid from Brooklyn, I could figure out you. Long as you’s happy and don’t get caught, it don’t matter to me.”

Jack really should have expected that Kloppman would know.

He was still frozen. He didn’t know what to do.

Crutchie put a comforting hand on his shoulder, “He’s been stayin’ here most nights, takin’ care of everyone. Les stays over some, too, but... well, we planned the rumble tonight, so not tonight.”

“And...” Jack cleared his throat, “And Davey?”

“Ya ain’t gonna run off and leave him again, are ya?” Kloppman asked.

That question stunned Jack to silence, though he wasn’t sure if it was from offense, guilt, or shock.

I promise you

Crutchie sighed, “He took it pretty hard, Jack. He ain’t been the same since we got that letter.”

As much as that information hurt and made it hard to think, Jack knew his answer.

“I’m stayin’ right here in New York,” he said firmly, “I came back ‘cause I missed all of ya so much it hurt, but Davey most of all. I kept workin’ even when it seemed like I’d never make enough because I love him and I am never leavin’ again.”

Crutchie squeezed his shoulder, smiling.

“He’s up in the washroom. If you’s quiet, ya won’t wake anyone.”

I will learn from my mistakes

Jack tried to climb the stairs silently, only sneaking one peek into the bunk room to confirm that, yes, all the others were there.

Tears stream

They were safe. Seeing that for himself meant more than hearing it from Kloppman and Crutchie.

The washroom was empty except for one boy, standing at the sink with his back to the door.

He was washing out old bandages, the slump in his shoulders the only thing that betrayed the exhaustion which no one who didn’t know him as well as Jack did would recognize.

“I told ya, Kloppman, I don’t need help,” he called quietly over his shoulder, without looking back, “I can manage this by myself.”

Down your face and I...

Jack took a deep breath, “Don’t mean ya have to.”

Davey dropped the bandage he was holding, seeming frozen to the spot.

He took a couple seconds before he turned around, his shocked eyes instantly landing on Jack’s.

God, Jack had missed those eyes.

Lights will guide you home

“...Jack.”

“Davey.”

Jack crossed the room, but stopped a few feet short of his lover.

He didn’t know if this was still okay. He had been gone for a year.

“Is this...” Davey took a shaky breath, and Jack realized that he looked like he was going to cry, “Is this real?”

“It’s real,” Jack promised, “I’m home.”

Davey gasped as he reached out to touch Jack’s arm, like he hadn’t expected it to be true.

He looked terrible. He had bruises all over his hands and face, and Jack was sure there would be more under his shirt. And besides that, the dark circles under his eyes said quite clearly that he hadn’t slept in a while.

“Dave,” Jack whispered, reaching up to touch the shiner he must have gotten in that rumble Crutchie mentioned.

“I’m fine, Jack,” Davey said, grabbing his hand and tugging him closer, “You should see the other guy.”

They weren’t quite hugging, but Jack’s chuckle still shook both of them, “I ain’t worried ‘bout the other guy. I’m worried ‘bout you.”

And ignite your bones

He sighed, “I don’t know how you did it, all these years by yourself. I’ve been barely keeping everyone alive for just one.”

“You did,” Jack reminded him, wiping a tear off the other boy’s face, “You did. You kept my family alive, Davey. Thank you.”

Davey rolled his eyes, “Our family, Jackie.”

“Our family.”

Jack didn’t really know what there was left to say. What could possibly convey how much it had hurt to be away, how much of a relief it was to be here along the skyline of New York again, the stars safely in the next room and the sun downstairs.

And the moon right there in his arms.

“I missed you,” Jack whispered, “I’m never leavin’ ya again.”

Davey studied his face, then sighed deeply as he leaned their foreheads together, “You’d better not.”

Then they were kissing as if the last year hadn’t happened.

Jack knew that it had, and they would have a lot to talk about, preferably in the morning.

But for now, everything was fine. Jack was home.

And I will try... to fix you

[we-are-inevitable]

modern art // javid (ch. 1)

A/N: hi !! so some of you may remember an old songfic i did in march of last year, titled ‘modern art’ after the song “IDK You Yet” by Alexander 23. well, i’ve always thought that that one shot would work great as a stand alone fic, and here we are! i have ch. 1 edited and SO MUCH of it as changed- like, for example, the fic is a chapter fic now !! regardless, i hope you guys like this !!

WARNINGS: depression, anxiety, self-deprecation, past addiction, mentions of addiction, just general Bad Times- pls be mindful when reading !! it’s just very Not Happy rn ADDITIONAL INFO: all characters are in their mid-twenties in the fic. oh also this is probably important but it’s a soulmate au !!

Read On AO3!

tag list: @bound-for-santa-fe @wannabecowboypunk @shippingcannons @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @smallsies @deliciouspeachpirate @newsies-is-my-erster 

Jack doesn't know what’s going on with himself, but he knows that he could really use his soulmate right about now.

They’ve communicated before. Never verbally, and never enough to reveal who they were. Perhaps they are both just... dealing with some unspoken fears, dealing with the worry of rejection sitting heavy in their chests. Perhaps they both like this mystery- the uncertainty that came with the notes scrawled across their bodies in a handwriting that isn’t their own.

Or perhaps they just aren’t ready to take the plunge. To grow up and face the harsh fact that, as soon as they meet, wherever and whenever that may be, a new chapter of their life will unfold. Consume them. Change anything and everything they’ve ever known or held dear.

They had been braver when they were children, that much was true. Jack remembers staying up late often, writing notes on his skin and watching in awe as the replies appeared. He remembers the giddy rush of trying to quickly wash off the ink on his wrist when they ran out of space to talk, and, oh, how they talked. There were school days when Jack would go to class exhausted, feeling like he’d been walking through quicksand for miles on end, but all of it had been worth it. The exhaustion he felt had been worth being able to talk to them until two, three, four in the morning. Sometimes he regretted it, of course, but only because it was harder for him to focus in class. Never because he was upset at them.

He could never be upset with them.

Even now, Jack remembers a lot about his soulmate. They liked music. They knew how to play the piano. They were into a few video games, even some that Jack had never played, and said that they always tried carrying a book with them wherever they went. Jack remembers that, as a younger kid, they liked Harry Potter and Percy Jackson, but also liked analyzing Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe and a bunch of other fancy authors that Jack had never even heard of. They were intimidatingly smart, and sometimes, would carefully correct Jack’s grammar whenever he misspelled a word or something- but they were never mean about it, they were just… there. A steady presence that he could count on.

Fifteen year old Jack dreamed of finding them one day. But now, twenty-five year old Jack is losing hope.

He can’t exactly help it. For starters, he and his soulmate haven’t communicated in… well, shit, it had to be nearly a year. Maybe nine months or so, but there’s no way to tell for sure, and even then, their conversations since reaching adulthood have been dull, for lack of a better word. A few positive comments here, a ‘have a good day’ there- it’s all so mundane, and neither of them can be blamed for it. They both have busy lives- or, well, Jack does, at least. His job as a graphic designer is hard enough on its own, but the added pressure of doing freelance work and commissions on the side has been eating away at him for weeks, coupled with debilitating self-doubt and lack of motivation for… anything.

Saying that he’s overwhelmed is the understatement of the century.

There is always another design, another client, another meeting, another deadline, another sleepless night as he stares at a blank canvas and prays for a spark of inspiration from whatever God is listening. Usually his inspiration comes from the world around him- his friends, city life, even the quiet confines of his apartment, but right now... Jack is stuck. He had holed himself up in his room days ago, trying and failing to get out of bed every morning when the time came to work- and thank God that the majority of his work could be done from home. His boss was understanding, too, to an extent.

Still, though, there’s a constant heavy weight on his chest that prevents him from moving most days, and he’s lucky if he even gets up long enough to shower or eat or do literally anything aside from lie in silence and count the cracks in his ceiling.

Nothing had happened to him recently to bring this on, from what he can tell. Jack has always been the happy-go-lucky leader, the man with a plan, the guy who always knew just what to say to motivate others into doing the best thing for themselves, but when that responsibility is reflected back onto himself, Jack feels helpless. There are words waiting to be said, sketches waiting to be drawn, designs waiting to be sent to clients… yet Jack lies there, motionless in his room for three days before he even has the energy, the willpower, to pull back his curtains and allow the sunlight to shine through. There is so much he wants to do, so much he needs to do, but he can't bring himself to do any of it.

In all twenty-five years of his life, through all of the things he’s been through, the ups and downs and foster homes and graduations and birthdays and funerals and therapists and rehab facilities and whatever the fuck else life decided to throw at him, Jack has never felt so worthless, so… lonely. His closest friends are all moving on with their lives. Many have already found their soulmate, have settled down and hidden their rowdy, rambunctious pasts behind skeletons in a closet. They’d all gotten their adventures done and over with in high school and college, and most are moving onto bigger and better things in life. They have careers. Families. Some have children, others have pets, a few have an insane amount of plants to care for.

All have seemingly left Jack behind in the dust.

No one told him when to flip the switch.

No one told him when he had aged out of adventure.

Now, they would never say it, but Jack knows. He knows. Saturday hangouts and trips to the bar had been replaced by Sunday church services and playdates for the kids. Rather than hearing yelling from his living room after his friends had all been teetering just on the edge between tipsy and fucked up, Jack hears the news, and documentaries, and podcasts, and the ghosts of a past life that he still seemed to be desperately clinging on to.

Katherine had been the one to tell him that he needed to grow up, though she didn’t put it in such a blunt manner. No, she’s just.... gently urging him to find a bigger apartment, or buy matching furniture from a place that is not a thrift store, or purchase dishes that weren’t of the plastic Walmart brand. She says it was because she wants to see him in a more professional, "adulty" lifestyle, but he knows it’s really because she can see that he’s a mess.

Deep down, Jack knows she’s right. She’s always right.

He just can’t help but feel cemented in place, dreaming of the past while dreading the new future ahead of him.

Jack never asked to feel so broken for no reason. All of the hope and optimism he had felt as a teenager was gone, lost in a sea of uncertain plans and shitty jobs and bill extensions and canvases dropped onto the floor with no rhyme or reason. And, yes, maybe Jack would look dramatic to someone who didn’t know his situation, but Jack knows what dramatic feels like. Dramatic feels like watching his best friend, Charlie, belt onstage in front of a backdrop that he helped create for the school play. Dramatic feels like laughing at the top of his lungs while walking through a random gas station at two in the morning, joined by Race and Al, all while higher than a kite. Dramatic feels like driving to the outskirts of the city with Katherine, climbing onto the roof of an old building and screaming about all of their stress, their anxiety, their insecurities, just to have some form of emotional release.

Dramatic doesn’t feel like sadness. It’s not supposed to.

Not for Jack.

He had been so… so happy, as a teenager. Proud and defiant and carefree. He was the kind of guy to skate and smoke weed in Central Park until midnight and take a math test at eight in the morning the next day. He was the kid who stood on a table in the cafeteria and came out as bisexual to everyone around him, just because of a dumbass bet that he didn’t even get paid for. He was the boy who wasn’t at all good in an academic sense, but who always knew how to talk himself out of trouble, who always came up with the most ridiculous- or most believable- lies to cover his ass when he needed it, who was always the class favorite, the teacher’s pet without meaning to be.

Jack had felt on top of the world back then, but now he’s struggling to even get off of the ground. The longer time goes on, the more lost Jack feels inside his own life. He feels like something was missing, something big. Something bigger than himself.

When his mother was alive, which now felt like lifetimes ago, she would often echo this old wives’ tale about how it’s best to find your soulmate while you’re younger, just to save them- and yourself- the pain of being alone for a long time. Jack had always kind of believed her; logically, he knew it was true, but he had always told himself that it wouldn’t happen to him. That he would be fine alone, though it wouldn’t be ideal, and that he would have plenty of time for soulmates after he got out and made a name for himself.

He’s starting to think, though, that maybe she was right. Maybe Jack had waited too long to make a move, to make contact again, because now, he just feels nauseous even thinking about it.

Don’t get him wrong, he knows the negative effects of self deprecation and not taking his own mental health seriously, he’s been to rehab before, blah, blah, blah, but, fuck, how could he put his soulmate through something like this? This fucked up state of mind he has now. Jack can’t even imagine talking to Katherine about this, and Katherine had been his best friend for over a decade. He can’t just meet his soulmate now- it’s been too long, he’s too messed up, they won’t like him, they’ll hate him for not trying hard enough, and Jack will just end up alone again, wasting away in his bedroom because no one fucking cares. No one cares. He has nobody.

That’s not true. He has Medda, his mom, his savior, his impulse control, but the thought of telling her that everything is acting up again makes him want to scream. He has Tony, but Tony has Al, and Tony and Al have a kid- a sweet little five year old girl who calls Jack ‘Uncle Jackie’ and takes no shit from anyone. He has Katherine, but Katherine has her soulmate- this dude named Darcy, who Jack doesn’t have much of an opinion on because they just met, like, a month ago, and Jack hasn’t exactly been emotionally ready for a hangout session between the three of them. He also has Charlie, and Charlie has certainly seen him in worse times- like when Jack was kind of hooked on pills for the entirety their freshman year of college- but Charlie has grad school to worry about and Charlie would hate him if he bothered him with this.

Still, there are other people who would listen, probably. He could easily talk to Elmer, or Romeo, or Specs, or Jojo or Finch or Sean or a fucking therapist but that’s just it, isn’t it? If he talks, he burdens, and Jack Francisco Kelly would rather run himself into the ground than be a burden anyone.

So, he makes a vow.

He makes eye contact with his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He’s gripping onto the sink, holding on for dear life, as he stares into his own sunken eyes. He takes in his appearance. Damp, messy hair, falling down to cover his forehead. Pale skin, which isn’t normal at all. Dark circles have taken their place around his eyes, and his smile- one of his favorite things about himself- is… nonexistent.

Distantly, Jack registers himself dumping a full bottle of ibuprofen into the sink. And then, he does the same thing with the bottle of melatonin from his medicine cabinet. The valium follows. He lets the water run for a long time. It's not that he doesn't trust himself- he'd done so, so good in rehab, and he doesn't even feel urges that often anymore- but it's better safe than sorry, especially since he's like... this.

This is not the Jack Kelly he’s used to anymore. This is not the Jack Kelly he wants to be.

But this Jack Kelly is the one who vows not to reach out. The one who vows to only answer when his soulmate is ready, and maybe not even then.

He doesn’t have to wait long, though.

Not when a heart appears on the back of his hand the next morning.

It’s there when Jack wakes up, and, honestly, it almost brings Jack to tears- but not necessarily for happy reasons. Sure, Jack wants to be happy. Who wouldn’t be happy after seeing something like this? A lopsided heart drawn in red ink, right on the back of his left hand- it was the definition of a symbol, of a romantic gesture, and Jack wants so badly to write back, to strike up conversation, to draw a goddamn heart, but… he can’t.

He can’t, and that’s horrible of him, and he knows it.

Right now, though… Jack can’t even work up the courage, the energy, to call his mom.

His soulmate, whoever they are, is going to have to wait.

[aficrepository]

Moving Out of the Friendzone >> Vlamburn RPF >> Rated E

----------

Michael has always been a touchy motherfucker is the thing. Not inappropriately, Jesus, no, but he likes people. Likes letting them know that he likes them and when he really, really, likes someone his boundaries fly out the fucking window.

That’s how it begins. A leg draped over a thigh. A kiss on the cheek that’s too sloppy to be anything but platonic. He doesn’t notice the way his heart does that cartoonish THUNK with every slide of skin on skin because this man is objectively gorgeous and serotonin is hard to come by, you know?

Being around Tyler is a drug in itself and he doesn’t get it until he gets it.

They’re sitting on Tyler’s couch watching a movie he couldn’t care jack shit about and Tyler’s a certified full course meal in a ratty shirt and sweatpants that are so old the garter is hanging on to Tyler’s hips by sheer force of will. Those Little Sweatpants Who Could are giving him a glimpse of tan skin and hipbone and Michael, who’s always thought he was straight until he isn’t, is suddenly thinking thoughts about his friend that would make even Guerin blush.

“What’s wrong with you?”

There’s a beat of perfect comedy where he just stares at Tyler and Tyler stares back, eyebrow raised while on the jumbo TV a grungy ass looking cowboy is frozen mid-sentence.

“You, um, you have a freckle that looks like that one constellation,” Michael finally stutters out.

Tyler frowns and rucks up his shirt to look and holy christ Michael is either a genius or a masochist. The glimpse of tan skin is in full view highlighting washboard abs and a smattering of dark hair. Michael’s mouth is as dry as a Santa Fe desert and the way the internet uses the word thirsty suddenly makes perfect sense.

Tyler is looking at him curiously now. Michael knows he’s gone red, eyes just a shade too dark. He licks his lips and Tyler’s curious expression turns into the slightest smirk as if Michael had just told him his deepest secret. Maybe he has.

“C’mere.”

Tyler pulls him close, gentle as anything. As if making sure he could nope out if he wanted. It’s the last thing Michael wants which is obvious from the total lack of grace that causes him to almost smack their foreheads together.

“You’re eager,” Tyler teases with a laugh once he’s not in danger of an errant headbutt and Michael kind of wants to die, but then he doesn’t because Tyler’s hand is in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

Michael has kissed Tyler maybe a hundred times is the thing. He’s talked extensively about Tyler’s mouth and lips and how lucky he is cause Tyler Blackburn is a damn excellent kisser.

What he forgot is that Tyler is also an excellent actor and the person he’s been kissing has always been Alex Manes. This kiss. This one is all Tyler.

Tyler kisses with the same kind of passion and laser focus he does everything else. It’s hot and wet and so fucking deep Michael makes a noise he doesn’t mean to make. A good one judging by the way Tyler surges up against him, licking into his mouth and Michael is moaning all over again. There’s a fire burning low in his belly and he’s hungry for it, impatient for more.

It’s not until Tyler’s fingers clenches in his hair, tugging slightly that Michael breaks off the kiss with a gasp.

“I’m going to start dry humping you like a teenager if you keep that up,” he warns, gratified to see that at least Tyler looks just as wrecked as Michael feels, his pink lips lush and swollen from kissing. 

“I’m not complaining,” Tyler says, the smile he gives Michael so effortlessly sexy it’s almost unfair.

Both of them lose their shirts quickly. Michael’s pants too upon Tyler’s insistence. Strong arms tug at him so that he’s straddling Tyler in nothing but the Batman boxers he’d pulled on that morning not knowing his wildest wet dreams were about to become reality.

Tyler doesn’t seem to mind. He eyes him, hot and hungry, and Michael grins, puffing up his chest a bit. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Tyler says, laughing lightly before pulling him in for another kiss.

The kiss starts slower this time, but just as filthy and so fucking deep that everything in Michael burns. Tyler’s hands are on his hips urging him to grind down and Michael’s moaning, mouth hanging open as Tyler nibbles on his lower lip.

“You’re so hot. How are you so fucking hot?” Michael babbles as he gasps for air, relishing the way Tyler flushes high on his cheeks.

“Don’t you ever stop talking?” Tyler asks against Michael’s neck, his mouth and tongue doing sinful things to his sensitive pulse point.

“Have you met me? I’m like a shark. I die if I stop talking.”

Tyler’s hands trail up Michael’s torso. “Let’s put that to the test shall we?”

“Oh fuck— oh, oh, fuck yes.”

High, needy noises escape his throat as large hands squeeze his chest, fingers rubbing and tweaking his sensitive nipples. He’s never told anyone how much he loves to have his pecs played with and lavished with attention, but Tyler decodes every sound he makes like some kind of treasure map. He’s panting, gasping and out of breath at the repeated feel of teeth scraping against his nipples followed by the wet swipe of Tyler’s tongue.

It’s all too much and not enough.

“Is it— can we—” Michael’s blushing and stuttering like a damn teenager and he doesn’t even care.

“All you have to do is ask, sweetheart,” Tyler whispers against Michael’s mouth, reaching down, down, down, freeing him from his boxers and enveloping Michael’s cock in a firm, wet slide.

“Oh dear fuck.”

Michael has to bite down on his lip, eyes squeezing shut overwhelmed by the contact. He forces his eyes open and drinks in the way Tyler’s eyes are huge and dark as he strokes Michael so fucking sweet that Michael whines as he looks down and sees drops of precome spill onto Tyler’s hand, easing the slide.

“I’m so fucking lucky. Seriously, how did I get this lucky? Jesus,” Michael gasps when Tyler twists his hand on the upstroke making sparks shoot up his belly. “You’re just talented all over.”

“Can you stop,” Tyler says with a fond shake of his head. “You’re making it hard to concentrate.”

“You can do it. I believe in you,” Michael grunted, rolling his hips into Tyler’s tight fist, “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jacked off thinking about Guerin and Alex just so I won’t feel weird jacking off thinking about you?”

This time Tyler does laugh, eyes scrunching cutely. “You are so fucked up.”

“Your fault for being so goddamned hot.”

As if to get back to him from another compliment, Tyler speeds up, his thumb circling the head of Michael’s cock, swiping against the slit. Filthy, wet sounds fill the room. Michael’s moans and Tyler’s sharp breathing mixing in what Michael can only assume sounds like a really great porno.

He breaks off into another moan when Tyler suddenly thrusts his hips up so Michael’s cock fucks into the circle of Tyler’s fist roughly. Pleasure swells inside him, an intense flame that seems to lick through his every cell.

“I want to—” Michael’s grips Tyler’s shoulders, strokes his biceps, tries to get Tyler to lose his pants in a desperate need to touch.

“Later,” Tyler says with a shake of his head, hands tugging at Michael’s hair and making him groan. “I want to see you come.”

He’s fucking into Tyler’s fist at the same time that Tyler bucks against him, the hard swell of his cock pushing against Michael’s ass and his brain fritzes out at the thought of riding Tyler just like this, but a lot more fucking naked. He’s never had a dick inside him before, but what if, what if.

The image of Tyler sweat-slick and gasping as he pounds into Michael burns right through him and Michael is suddenly, dangerously at the edge. He moans low and breathy, so fucking turned on he feels crazed with it. “Tyler, baby, I’m gonna— oh— oh — oh god— ”

Tyler sucks hard against Michael’s collar bone and that’s it he’s shouting Tyler’s name, jerking against him and coming hard, riding the crashing waves of pleasure until he’s shaking in its aftershock.

Michael presses their foreheads together as he comes down, flushed and sweaty and unfairly naked compared to how Tyler’s still wearing half his clothes.

“Sorry,” he says, without really meaning it when he sees the mess he made on Tyler’s stomach and chest. It’s a fucking gorgeous picture is what it is and it’s going straight into his spank bank.

Tyler pulls him down for a kiss, nice and slow and sweet, then grabs Michael’s discarded shirt and cleans himself off with it.

“Nice,” Michael says, wrinkling his nose at the soiled top. “I’ll have to go home shirtless.”

“Bet it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“First time coming home from your place,” Michael says, an eyebrow raised knowing full well what a bunch of gossips he lives with.

“Maybe we should throw that in the wash.”

“Find something to keep us occupied in the meantime?”

Tyler’s grin is full of light and mischief and something inside Michael warms in a way that has nothing to do with sex. “I do have a really nice shower.”

----------

Standard reminders apply: the F in RPF means fiction, don't repost anywhere and do not under any circumstances show this to anyone related to the show. Other than that, enjoy!

[elucere]

sad late august quarantine thoughts

When quarantine first started, I really thought this would be easy for me. And in some way, I was right. This has been easier for me than the average person and, arguably, much better than the first half of my year. I graduated in December and didn’t land a single job after pretty aggressively applying during my last semester. So during the months of January and February, I was completely broke and moved in with my family. I didn’t have any money or means to do anything but sit at home all day and wallow.

Being a student was such a core part of who I was and to suddenly lose that and have nothing to fall back on really did a number on me. Not only that, but the self-hatred was killing me. Not being able to snag a job was entirely my own fault- I just wasn’t good enough. The weight of failure followed me everywhere and I felt so completely defeated all the time. I was trying my best to stay busy one way or another but it felt impossible to find the energy to do anything. I filled my time by watching 12 seasons of Criminal Minds or cramming 30 DCOMs within one week. And when I wasn’t doing something stupid, I was crying. I found a job right before quarantine started and every single day I’m thankful. It was truly no less than divine intervention and it truly made the difference with quarantine. 

More than anything, though, what helped with quarantine is the fact that I’m used to being alone. My junior and senior year of college, especially, I didn’t really make friendships with the people I dormed with and none of those previous residential relationships followed me. At this point, I was eating every single meal alone. When I was upset, the only relationships I had to fall back on were ones I cultivated online. I already had a less than traditional college experience. The only parties I went to were my club’s socials and beyond the people I met there, I had nothing. Even then, if I was in large groups of people I would just completely shut down or not go. At first, being alone 90% of the time was very depressing. I cried a lot. But then, I got used to it. 

Which, when you think about it at first, isn’t that bad. The moments you have with yourself are just comfortable, neither really good or bad. And people say to live in the moment, yaknow? But moments only last so long. We don’t spend most of our time doing exciting things or going to exciting places. Like, hell, I work a 40 hour work week, do you think I’m trying to live in the moment? No, we spend most of our time reflecting and looking forward. Live in the moment is only a sentiment that’s worth so much. I remember going to Disneyland 4 years ago and when I was riding Big Thunder Mountain, I remember thinking to myself, “You’re in Disneyland this is your favorite place and you’ve been looking forward to this trip forever. Enjoy this moment.” And honestly, I would’ve probably enjoyed that moment just as much even if I didn’t have that moment of reflection. That temporary gratitude is only worth so much. But the memory of that trip is still able to give me happiness. Life is a collection of moments and you get to pick what stays with you. Living for and in the current moment is exhausting and not everyone can find enough joy in the little things to fufil them.

Getting used to your own company isn’t inherently a bad thing, but I think I was doing it for the wrong reasons. I would decline large outings, minimize my attempts at making friends, spend at least a year not talking to people in a group before I felt comfortable because I was so wrapped up in my insecurities. That’s what it all boils down to, I suppose, at least for me. Because when I’m out with other people, I’m happy for a few hours, and then I come home and it’s just straight crippling self-hatred. “Was I funny enough? Was I annoying? Did they like talking to me? I should ask if they enjoyed themselves? They won’t answer honestly even if they did. How would I know, then? Would they not invite me out again? And if they don’t, that just sucks. If they told me what was bothering them, I could fix it but now they aren’t giving me the chance.” And it goes on and on and on until I’ve convinced myself I’m the worst. And then eventually, the person does drop me because I basically projected all that insecurity onto the relationship and made those worries true. And then because I’m worried about doing that to someone else, I end up internalizing all my worries and it just gets worse and worse to the point where I have to go to the bathroom and cry during outings because I already feel like I’ve let everyone down. At this point, when a friendship begins to drift, I’ve already cut that person off in my mind because I’ve convinced myself that this was just an inevitability of the friendship, that I was never good enough for them and they were just talking to me until they found something better. Being alone may have denied me happy moments with others, but it also prevented me from creating painful memories.

This is where social media has kind of crippled my ability to form relationships with people too. Because I don’t want to reach out to a close friend and share this, no that’d scare them off. So let me post about my deepest fears and pain to like 100+ people on my finsta. That’s healthy and normal. Let me complain on my 300+ follower twitter account. And then I develop an unhealthy relationship with those sites when I don’t get the response I’m expecting. Posting online is like having friends without gambling individual heartbreak. When I put effort into a tweet or a project and it doesn’t get acknowledged, I feel it reflecting badly on me. It’s only a matter of time before I get caught up on how I come off online too and suddenly, it’s hard for me to post. I don’t know what to say. I’m not getting engagement, everyone must hate me. I don’t feel close to anyone. Everyone else has such close friend groups and it’s so hard for me to find that for myself, so what’s the point? So I get overwhelmed and leave for a while, but it’s a cycle like anything else in life.

Being so wrapped up in people’s hypothetical perceptions of you sucks so much. In April, I started writing for DiscussingFilm. Film criticism wasn’t really something I imagined myself doing and quite honestly I’m not sure how I ended up there. I’m grateful for the opportunity and everything it’s given me, but it also gives me something more to be insecure about. I’m a chronic overwriter. My stuff is way too long for no reason. That may just be my style, but when I read other people’s reviews, I burn with jealousy. They’re able to condense their thoughts so succinctly and clearly. We have the same words at our disposal, the same complexities of the human language, and yet how I express a thought is so much more awkward and jumbled. I hate it. And I sit at home, stressing to high heaven over some 1.2k word review just sick with worry about how others will perceive it. What they’ll think of it. If they’ll be disappointed. I can’t imagine a bigger heartbreak than the thought of someone opening my work, reading it, and thinking that it was a waste of their time. And that has most definitely happened somewhere in the world and I feel just so powerless to stop it.

That goes beyond insecurity though and speaks more to the feelings of powerlessness. This standard that you’ve set for yourself and if you can’t reach it, you feel awful. Not everything is in our control, but we have to assign a certain level of personal responsibility to it or else the chaos is overwhelming. It’s a fine line to walk, and honestly, I don’t know how to do it. How much of someone else enjoying my work within my control? Or getting hired? Or other people’s perception of me? If they think I’m funny or annoying? Probably less than I’d like to admit, but definitely a lot less than I’m comfortable with. Because even when I’m insecure, I’m still living in a logical reality where my actions have nearly complete control of other people’s perceptions of me and I could easily change them. But it’s not that simple and I don’t think it ever will be, really. So what am I supposed to do about it? Just stop stressing?

One of my favorite musicals is Newsies. The protagonist, Jack Kelly, is obsessed with leaving New York and going to Santa Fe and just becoming a cowboy. He feels trapped by the city and Santa Fe is his idealization of freedom. There’s a moment where he’s talking to his friend and she asks him if he’s going there or if he’s running away. Because, you see, if you’re going there and it’s not the right place you can go somewhere else. But if you’re running away nowhere will ever be the right place.

So when I was in high school, I idolized the concept of going away to college. I thought that if that happened, I would finally have the space to be myself and finally be happy. So when I had a really bad college experience, I realized college was my Santa Fe and I was running away. I had brought all of my baggage with me and my insecurities and my emotional turmoil and nowhere will ever be the right place for me until I work through those things. At first, I thought my problem was the people, so I cut them out. But now, I know that’s wrong.

Quarantine has given me a lot of time to self reflect. Who am I? What do I like? But more than that, it’s revealed to me how incredibly lonely I’ve kept myself. And I’ve always felt this way and somehow each year I manage to push myself more and more away from others. Newsies ends with Jack deciding to stay in New York because he realized he didn’t really want to leave, he wanted a reason to stay. He wanted to feel loved and valued, which is what we all do. To try and trick myself that the best way to protect myself is to shut myself off was stupid. Dumb. There are at least 35 DCOMs that come to this conclusion and I shouldn’t be having this conversation at 22.

I think what did it for me was the realization that I would be in the same place with or without COVID. It’s one thing to say that you’re sad because of all the things you can’t do, but the realization that you wouldn’t be doing those things regardless hurts a little more. It’s being accutely aware of how much you’ve taken for granted. The fact that I’m feeling just as fine now, amidst a global pandemic, as I have my entire life just speaks to how awful the mental prison is where I’ve trapped myself. Just because it’s always been this way doesn’t mean that it’s the best way for me. I deserve to do better for myself, but why won’t I let myself have it?

Normally, I’d internalize this. But that doesn’t really push me to change. Sometimes, all you need is for other people to recognize how you feel so you don’t really feel as alone. I don’t really expect people to read all of this. There’s so much happening in the world that we feel powerless to fix. I try so hard to do my part but it’s just exhausting. So many injustices are than the problems of one person feels so trivial. But I’d like to imagine that the struggles of trying to find yourself, especially right now when we’re so disconnected from another, is universal. This is one thing that we can fix. I am so sick and tired of being lonely and just hating myself so much. I want to be better, I want to feel better, and I want to figure this all out. But I’m not quite sure how. Vocalizing this all feels good and it feels productive, but at this point I just don’t know how to talk to people. But I’ll try and I guess that’s all I can really do.

Quarantine and a global pandemic may be a box we’re forced in, but it doesn’t mean we have to put ourselves in a mental one. When quarantine is over, we are going to walk out of it as new people and now is the time to decide what commitnments we want to make and what actual changes we’re going to work towards during this time to make sure those wishes for ourselves become a reality. 

I love all of you so much. You have value and are appreciated in your life. People are so complicated and sometimes it’s hard to grasp that everyone else has lives that are just as complex and nuanced as your own. Everyone is struggling and everyone is succeeding simultaneously in this big, increasingly chaotic world. So give yourself some credit and know your worth. It’s hard to define who you are, especially when you don’t really have others to compare yourself to and better define the differences. But also, remember people aren’t just one thing. Just follow what you like, try new things, and look inward just as much as you look outward.

[theycallmemoosey]

It’s All Going To Be Ok

Crutchie x Disabled!Reader (Wheelchair)

Warnings: Violence, disability (shouldn’t be a warning but some people get funny about it so here’s your warning), VERY LONG!!!

A/N: Heya peeps! Got an amazing request from the sweetest person, so I really tried my best on this one. For anyone who IS in a wheelchair, for anything that may offend or upset you, just know that it is not my intention and I am sorry for any upset caused. Again, this was so fun to write and thank you so much for sending this request in. Please let me know how this is guys, I really hope you enjoy. Hope I haven’t lost my ability to write decent things yet...Moose :)

--------------------------------------------------

“Y/N! SLOW DOWN!” 

You laughed a breathy laugh as you continued to run down the streets, the boys slowly fading into the distance. You groaned, smiling widely as you sprinted past the white ribbon laying neatly in the road, laughs and cheers coming from the rest of the newsies by your side. You slowed down, falling to the floor as you tried to catch your breath again, hearing the boys groaning as they also crossed the line. You chuckled as you saw a sweaty boy look down at you, a scowl on his face. 

“You’re called Race for a reason…and you still get beaten by a girl” 

“You’re not human, I swear. You just beat the fastest boys in Manhattan. Again! Were you a racehorse in another life or something?” 

Giggling, you took Races hand and got up, brushing the dirt off of your back and thighs. 

“You win! Again, Y/N! What do we have to do to make you lose for once?” 

“Just…be better Jackie. How’s that?” 

Jack rolled his eyes and walked off laughing, going to check on Elmer who appeared to be having an asthma attack. You sauntered over to Crutchie, who was smiling widely at you. 

“How did I do?” 

“Better than last time” 

“Yeah?” You asked, hunching over and still trying to catch your breath from the immense run you had just done. 

“8 minutes 24 seconds” 

“Holy mo…wasn’t my personal best like…12 minutes?”

“Yeah”

“And you really counted each second? For that long?”

“Yep”

“And this is why you’re the best person anyone could ever ask for” Crutchie smiled, pushing himself up off the wall he was perched on, leaning on his crutch as you walked with him behind the rest of the newsies to the lodge. It was silent for a while as the two of you continued to walk, desperate for a bath to relax your sore calf muscles. 

“Y/N?” 

“What’s up?”

“What’s it like to run?” 

You were taken aback slightly, thinking for a moment. Of course, Crutchie had never run in his life before. At least, not without having an excruciating pain in his leg as he tried to run properly. 

“It makes you feel free. Like a bird, almost. Feeling the wind in your face and your hair makes you feel like you’re flying. At first, you can’t stop grinning with the pure joy of rushing through the streets and then eventually, you stop feeling like you’re running and you just glide along the road, everything you pass soon becoming just a spec in the distance. Sometimes, I feel like I’m flying and I could just keep on running forever. I could run to the other side of the world if I wanted to…”

Crutchie hummed a sort of laugh, “Don’t you get tired?” 

“Sometimes. But I guess when you’ve been running for as long as I have, you just get used to it. Running was all I did as a kid…and it was all I had to get away from all my problems. I guess even now I still run away from everything”

“Jackie said that the fresh air in Santa Fe would make my leg better...I know it’s impossible but sometimes, I like to imagine that its true. And me and Jackie are running across the entire town. Me and Jackie…and, er…and you”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I mean, what’s life without you?”

You blushed, smiling down at your feet before elbowing him in the side softly, “shut up”

“Hey! Love birds! Hurry up! Jack is giving out dinner” Elmer shouted from the door, rushing back inside as you shouted back at him. 

“HEY! NOT LOVE BIRDS! NEVER WILL BE!” 

Crutchie grimaced and awkwardly laughed, “Never?” 

“Well, we’re best friends! Not ‘love birds’” you used air quotes, emphasising what Elmer had said. 

“I suppose” 

“Come on, I’m starved”

—————————————————————

“What’s happening?” You asked Jack, shouting slightly over the huge crowd of furious newsies behind you. 

“They jacked up the price of the papers! They want us to pay 60 rather than 50. They just wanna see us starve to death”

“Woah, Jack, slow down! Maybe they’re just running out of money and they needed to find a solution” 

“Oh so they just target the kids, yeah…great solution” 

You tried to argue back but Jack had turned away and clambered on top of the wagon, screaming out orders and chanting their demands to the rest of the newsies. You huffed and wiggled your way through the crowd to find Crutchie stood at the back, listening to Jack intently. 

“I hate when he gets in these moods” you mumbled, loud enough for Crutchie to hear but quiet enough that you sounded pissed off.

“What mood?”

“I’m Jack. I’m the leader of the Manhattan newsies. This is my terf. I’m the king of the world and anything that inconveniences me is automatically the worst thing there is”

“He’s never like that, Y/N. Plus, he kinda has a point” 

You couldn’t argue with that. Instead, you just huffed and sat on the nearest bench, crossing your legs underneath you as you watched the newsies cheer and scream and chant and everything else teenage boys do when they’re angry. 

“We, the newsies of Manhattan, are going on strike!” Jack yelled, the newsies cheering in front of him. 

“Wait, what?” You asked, although no one was listening.

“We will not sell a single thing until the world understands that we will not return to work until the price is correct” 

“Is he serious right now?” You asked Crutchie, although you were immediately shushed as Crutchie kept listening and cheering with the majority. 

“We don’t need hats and badges to prove we are a union, we are a union if we say we are. We are the newsboys union, and we demand that the price goes back down!”

“This is such a bad idea” you shook your head, beginning to stand up and head towards Weasel to get your papers. 

“Woah, hey, Y/N! What are you doing?” Jack stopped you as he saw you walk past the gate.

“Working” 

Jack laughed, “Are-are you deaf? Did you not hear me scream that we are on strike?”

“Oh, you were serious about that?”

“Damn right I’m serious”

“Okay” you laughed out a breathy laugh, “I’m gonna get to work now”

“What? No!” Jack shouted as he stepped in front of you, “Seriously, Y/N! Do you know what a strike is?” 

“I have kids to support, you to support, Crutchie to support and myself to support…someone’s got to do it” 

“We support each other, Y/N. Since when were you supporting the entire lodging house” 

“Since your dumb ass brought me to the house. You know I support these kids, and you know damn well that if someone doesn’t bring any money to the table, these kids are gonna die!” 

You had clearly shouted that at Jack a lot louder than you thought you had, as the crowd behind you had silenced and all eyes were on you. 

“I’m still working. No strike is going to stop me from looking after these kids” You practically spat at Jack, so close to his face you could see yourself in his eyes. 

“Y/N” Jack said calmly, although you could hear he was beyond pissed off, “don’t do this” 

You scowled at Jack, your eyes wandering to the right at the crowd of boys. Your eyes landed on Crutchie, who looked at you sympathetically. Taking a deep breath, you turned away from Jack and towards the line of supply newsboys. Each one left the gate and the boys threatened them with a single stare, encouraging them to throw down their papers and join the strike. 

“100 Weasel” you asked, placing the money on the desk. 

“At least someone has a brain” he smirked, taking the money and placing the papers in front of you. 

“Not just a brain, but an entire house of kids to support. Same time tomorrow, Weasel”

“Stay safe, Y/N” he said in a softer voice, having always taken a liking to you more than any of the others.

As you walked out the gate, you felt trapped under the number of eyes of each newsie, although you stood tall, keeping your gaze on Jack as you walked past. You knew none of them were going to even try to threaten or persuade you to stop, instead each one of them sympathetically looked at you. All except Jack who simply scoffed as you walked past him. At the end of the tunnel of newsies, Crutchie hobbled over to you. 

“I’m not gonna tell you you’re doing the wrong thing, but are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked

“Someone’s gotta look after you all”

“It shouldn’t have to be you” 

“Yeah?” You snapped, stopping in your tracks and scowling at Crutchie, “who else is gonna do it? Jack? Race? You?!” 

Crutchie went to argue but you interrupted him, “No, Crutchie! No one else will! I’m the one that’s been supporting this family since day one! Jack has his heads in the clouds, Race and Romeo are too busy chasing after girls, and the rest are too young to know the difference between a dime and a nickel! And you? You can’t even support yourself on two legs, let alone the rest of the lodging house!” 

As soon as you said the words, you immediately regretted it but being the stubborn teen you were, you stood your ground and continued scowling. Crutchie stepped away from you, holding his hand out towards the city, not making any eye contact with you. 

“See you at dusk” 

——————————————————

Night had fallen and you had sold all the papers, trying desperately to cover all the spots that the newsies had neglected that day. Your legs ached and your eyes were weary and you felt yourself yawning every minute. From down the end of the road, you could hear the usual cheering and laughing of the boys in the lodging house. You couldn’t wait to get home and relax with the boys, but as soon as you walked into the dorm, the noise silenced, each boy moving his eyes away from you. You knew you had snapped at them early but you didn’t think that they would turn you away. Not your family. Realising you weren’t welcome, you walked calmly over to the funding box where everyone made a donation to support the house. Well, everyone mainly being you. 

“$2. Enjoy” you smiled patronisingly, curtsying before heading outside to sit on the lodging house steps. It was a little while before a crutch slid down the stairs and two legs planted next to yours. 

“You ok?” 

“Yep” you popped the ‘p’, avoiding all eye contact with him and still feeling guilty about earlier. 

“How was your day?” 

You turned to him, looking at his joyful eyes, “how can you even stand to be near my right now?” 

Crutchie began to laugh, “all I did was ask how your day went today” 

“No…how can you even speak to me after what I said to you earlier?” 

“You were cross. I know you didn’t mean it” 

You tried to say something but nothing came out, so you smiled a tight smile, patting his leg in gratefulness. 

You took a deep breath, sighing as you exhaled, “have I done the right thing?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, did I do the right thing? Disobeying Jack and working anyway?” 

“Yes” Crutchie stated plainly, “You’re just trying to look out for us” 

“I try to” 

“And you do” Crutchie exclaimed as he took your hand, squeezing it gently but not letting go. 

You smiled softly at him, sniffling as you tried to stop the tears from falling, “you’re too good to me, Crutchie”

“Yeah, so I’ve been told”

Gasping lightly, you let go of his hand and smacked his arm, “by who?!” 

“All the boys at least once for as long as I can remember” 

Just as you were about to argue back, you were interrupted by a cough behind the two of you, making you turn back to meet Jack. You groaned, turning back around to face out into the open. 

“What?” 

“Dinner. You need to eat” 

“I ate earlier” you scoffed.

“No you didn’t. Eat, Y/N” Jack argued back, placing the loaf of bread and apple in your lap before heading back into the house. 

“You guys aren’t going to be like this until the strike is over, are you?” Crutchie asked, watching as you tore into the bread hungrily.

“We’ll see” you replied before noticing the hungry look in Crutchie’s eyes, “want some?” 

“I actually ate earlier, with the rest of the boys” Crutchie said shortly before having a chunk of bread shoved in his face. 

The two of you ate in silence, watching the streets of New York at nighttime. 

“Y/N?” Crutchie asked, chomping on his last piece of bread. 

“Mmhm?” 

“Promise me something” 

“What?”

“That you’ll never leave me” 

You looked toward Crutchie in surprise, a mouthful of bread, “what?” 

“Oh come on don’t make me repeat it” Crutchie laughed, blushing slightly. 

“Of course I’ll never leave you, you ass. You and me against the world, right? Y/N and Crutchie, Crutchie and Y/N” 

“Yeah…you and me kid” Crutchie took your hand again, bringing it close to him and kissing it gently. 

—————————————————————

You followed the boys to the circulation gate that morning, the same you had done for the past week, lingering at the back to partly keep Crutchie some company but mostly to hide away from the rest of the newsies who had chosen to ignore you at Jack’s orders. You slowed down as you saw the newsies take their positions at the front of the gate, sitting on anything and standing threateningly as they glared at each newsie coming in and out of the gate. 

“I’ll see you later, Y/N?” Crutchie said as you nodded your head gently, smiling as he walked to be with the rest of them. 

“When are you gonna learn, Y/N? You’re making the wrong choice!!” Jack called as you entered the gate, making you sigh in sadness. 

“Double today” you solemnly asked Weasel, placing the pile of coins on the desk. 

“Where’d you get all this money from?” 

“Hard work” 

“You earned all this yourself?” 

You nodded, too exhausted to reply. Weasel was about to interrogate you but when he saw the look in your eye, he knew you were telling the truth. You looked so broken. He assumed that because of your actions, you had been isolated and made into a recluse by the rest of the boys. He had assumed right. 

“Stay safe, won’t you?” 

“Sure thing” 

You trudged your way back out of the circulation gate, the boys’ eyes all on you. 

“Y/N?” Smalls quietly tried to get your attention, receiving a glare from Jack. 

“We don’t talk to the traitors” 

“Don’t talk to the ones that support you neither” you mumbled, a few of the newsies nearby gasping and quickly looking towards Jack. Luckily, he hadn’t heard as his attention was focused on something else. Or, rather, someone else. 

“Lookie here, Oscar” Morris sneered, “THE Jack Kelly can’t even persuade one of his own to join the pathetic little strop”

“We should probably go and help” Oscar emphasised help, sending a glance and a creepy smirk towards Jack, who knew that the boys constantly teased you and were weirdly sexual towards you.

“Touch Y/N, I’ll break both of you in half” Jack warned, jumping down from the wagon he was perched on and standing in the way of the Delanceys from getting to you. Hearing Jack’s threat, you stopped in your tracks and turned around, surprised that after the way he has been treating you, he would stand up for you like that. 

“Oh come on, Kelly…we were only gonna have some fun”

“Yeah, Kelly! We just wanted to have a good time!” Oscar laughed, nudging his brother with his elbow

“A real good time too” Morris growled, his hungry eyes on yours. 

You had never seen Jack Kelly completely lose it before, but as soon as you had gasped at Morris’ comment, you saw Jack’s demeanour flick like a switch. Before you knew it, Morris was flat on the ground, his hand covering his bloody face. 

“Jack!” You shouted, your breath heavy in fear for what would happen next. Despite how much Jack wanted to, he knew better than to mess with the Delancey’s. 

“Oh you’ve done it Kelly” Oscar growled, more aggressively than you had ever seen anyone before. 

Oscar and Jack started throwing punches at each other, half the newsies trying to break up the fight and half of them cheering Jack on. You raced towards the crowd, trying your hardest to get to Jack but kept being pushed back by everyone else. In the midst of it all, everyone was so focused on the fight occurring between Oscar and Jack that no one had noticed Morris scurry off back past the circulation gate to gather more people. No one, that is, until everyone started being attacked from all angles. You somehow managed to get drawn into the brawl, never really being violent before. You were surprisingly good at fending yourself off and punching boys that more than deserved it. When you had all of three seconds to breathe, your eyes scanned the crowd for Crutchie, worried that the Delancey brothers would have taken advantage of his leg and taken him away somewhere they could really hurt him. Your heart relaxed when you saw him crouched behind a wagon far away from the gate, hiding behind the crowd of gathering adults. Your lack of concentration on the surroundings proved to be worse than you thought, as before you knew it two boys jumped on top of you, pinning you to the ground as they punched and kicked you continuously, your body beginning to ache. You felt exhausted at this point and your eyes lit up when you saw the police push to the front of the crowd of adults. 

“It’s about time you showed up!” One of the boys cried, although you couldn’t see as the two boys who had jumped you were blocking the view. Although, you soon knew that they weren’t there to help as suddenly you heard a grunt, a groan and a whistle. 

“JACK! RUN!” You heard Crutchie shout from wherever he was hiding. You assumed it must have been Snider, the police guard that was personally searching for Jack ever since he escaped the refuge - a story Jack told to you so many times you could picture every detail. All your thoughts of Jack suddenly turned to worry as you heard Crutchie scream loudly, the sound of his crutch smacking his body. 

Your worry turned to rage and you suddenly found the energy to kick the two boys that had jumped you in the privates and push them off of you, leaving them groaning on the floor and clutching onto where it hurt most. You ran towards Crutchie but stopped in your tracks when you saw him being dragged away by two police guards, throwing him carelessly Into a barred carriage and quickly racing him away to, you assume, the refuge. Crying his name loudly, you felt yourself began to shake - the thought of losing Crutchie, your best friend and soulmate, mixed with the adrenaline of the fight you had just caused made you begin to cry. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, but soon enough you felt two arms wrap around your waist. 

“GET OFF OF ME!” You cried, wriggling your way around in the arms of the guard, slipping out and running towards the balcony where the headlines were written out every day. You looked behind you just before climbing the ladder, two of the Delancey gang and a guard on your tail. Climbing up the ladder as quickly as your legs and arms would take you, you tried to push away from the men trying to get a hold of you. 

“Oh come on now, we just want to show you what you deserve!” Morris shouted from below the balcony, laughing almost evilly as he saw the number of people after you. The guards had pushed the boys away, and clambered up the ladder after you, taking slow, stalking steps towards you as you back away from them sheepishly. You knew this was it. Your arms went out behind you to hold yourself on the bar behind you. Or at least, the bar that you thought would be behind you. For a few days, the balcony was having work done and the usual metal railings had been replaced with nothing but tape, which broke as you walked back into it. You slipped and lost your footing, gasping for air as you fell down swiftly, blacking out when the pain from hitting the ground became too unbearable. 

——

Your eyes watered as you struggled to open them, the harsh light in your face making you wince. You looked around at your surroundings, recognising you were in the doctor’s surgery room.

“What the-“ 

“Please, lay back down” the nurse ushered you to lay back down, noticing the shock on your face, “how are you feeling?” 

“Strangely okay…why can’t I feel any pain in my legs?” 

The nurse sighed sadly, looking down in disappointment before meeting your eyes again. 

“After the fall you..you became paralysed from the waist down” 

“W-what?” 

“The fall caused the nerves in your spine to break, which means that you won’t be able to walk. Ever.” 

You blinked at the nurse, mouth wide open as you tried to process what she had just told you. You took a deep breath, chocking back a sob as you laid back down, your eyes staring straight up at the ceiling. 

“The doctor will be in shortly to discuss the next step in your recovery”

You stared at the nurse in disgust, “Was that supposed to be funny?” 

The nurse looked at you funnily before heading out the room. You looked down at your legs, throwing then blanket off of yourself. Trying to move your legs, you became frustrated when you couldn’t move an inch.

“Come on you pieces of shit, MOVE!” You screamed, crying out in a loud sob as it finally sunk in that you may never walk again. 

“Y/N?” A small voice came from the door and you turned your head towards it, tears running down your face as you locked eyes with Crutchie.

“They won’t move, Crutchie! Why can’t I move my legs?!” you cried out, shaking with the ferocity of the sobs. Crutchie rushed to you as fast as he could, throwing his crutch on the floor and embracing you tightly, shushing you as he stroked your hair and drew circles on your back. 

“You’re alive, Y/N. That fall could have killed you but you’re still here. With me” 

“What’s the point of being alive? No one is going to buy from me anymore because I’ll be in a chair and..and I can’t run anymore” 

“You forget, Y/N, that I’ve been dealing with that since I’ve been born. I was abandoned by my parents for not being normal or right or fixed or whatever you want to call it. Just because one leg didn’t work, they didn’t love me anymore. But that’s not true with you. You could just be a hand and I would still love you the same way I did when all of you worked. You’re my Y/N, and that isn’t changing. I’ll never abandon you, whether you’re walking on two legs or wheeling around in a chair”

“You’re too good to me, Crutchie”

The doctor knocked on the door and Crutchie moved around to the other side of the bed, sitting down in the chair next to you and taking your hand.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?” 

“I’m not, isn’t that the point of being paralysed?” You snapped, Crutchie giving you a look before apologising to the doctor. 

“I understand that this has come as a big shock to you-“

“Understatement” 

The doctor glared, coughing awkwardly, “You have been prescribed a wheelchair to allow you to travel. It is second hand as I am aware you don’t have a lot of money or insurance”

“Insurance?” You asked Crutchie

“Don’t worry” Crutchie hushed you, still looking at the doctor intently.

“You will have to come here once a week to go through physical therapy. You can come with Mr. Morris when he too comes for therapy”

“Therapy? I can’t even move, what’s the point?” 

“For your back”

You hummed, narrowing your eyes before collapsing down back on the bed.

“Your chair unfortunately had to be shipped from West, so you will have to come back to collect it”

“Fine” you huffed, looking towards Crutch who smiled at you sadly.

“Thanks a lot, Doctor” Crutchie smiled, waiting until the doctor had left the room completely before hauling himself up with difficulty. 

“I’m going tell the boy’s you’re awake…and I’ll ask Jack to come and pick you up. I would, but…I don’t think I’m capable of carrying you all the way back to the lodging house. I can barely get there myself”

Crutchie turned around from where he was stood at the door to see you asleep in the bed. He smiled softly and pulled the door shut gently before heading off to get Jack.

——

The boys all jumped up from their beds when they saw Crutchie enter the dorm from his trip to see you. 

“How’s Y/N doing?” 

“Finally awake” Crutchie said, “although we got a diagnosis today…”

“What-what’s happened?” Race questioned, inching forward to the front of the gaggle of boys.

“Paralysis” Crutchie said quietly, a gasp from all the boys, “The doctor prescribed a chair and we have to go and pick it up next week”

“A chair? Like…a wheelchair? Aren’t those really expensive?” Romeo pitched in, knowing that they were short of money after spending everything on the care the hospital had already given you.

“We’ve just got to work our asses of to get the money, won’t we? Why you giving up so soon, Romeo?” Elmer asked, shaking his head.

“Anyone seen Jack? Y/N needs to come home today or else they’ll charge us silly amounts of money for extra care. Jack’s the strongest here”

“No one knows” Smalls said quietly, “he hasn’t been back since Y/N was taken to hospital…Davey and Les went to see if he was at the theatre, but they haven’t come back yet”

“Any idea what time they’ll be back? We really need to get Y/N back from the hospital” 

“Right now” Jack interrupted, “What’s the news Crutchie”

“Y/N’s awake” Crutchie began, Jack’s face immediately lighting up.

“What are we waiting for?! Let’s go and bring Y/N home!!” 

“Jack wait…” Crutchie stopped Jack before he fell down the stairs in excitement that his favourite newsie is alive, “you need to know something first” 

“What?” 

“Y/N…after the fall…” Crutchie sighed, “Y/N’s paralysed” 

“What did you just say?” Jack said, his tone become angry slightly. 

“After the fall, Y/N became paralysed from the waist down”

Jack remained silent, noticing the sad look on Crutchie’s face.

“Jack…Y/N needs to come home and you’re the strongest one here. Y/N probably would like to see you too”

Jack simply nodded, his mouth a tight line as he was still thinking about what he had just been told. 

“Let’s go then”

Jack and Crutchie hurried back to the hospital and to your room. 

“Crutchie, you’re back” you smiled, pushing yourself up slightly with all the strength you had in your upper body. 

“How are you holding up?” 

“With my arms” 

“Always with the sarcasm, Y/N” Jack smiled, stepping into the room behind Crutchie.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Nice to see you too”

“I thought you hated me”

“You’re my family. I’ll never hate you” Jack said softly, stepping towards you and taking your hand. 

“I betrayed you” 

“You were trying to support us. Everything you said about the fact that you are the only one that supports everyone was entirely true…I don’t know what we’d do without you. And trust me, we as the entire lodging house are going to help and support you. Because like hell do you deserve it. You’re my best friend, Y/N…I know I was mad but I was just so focused on the strike, I wasn’t focusing on you and that’s my fault” Jack begin to sniff, a sign that he was about to cry, “I’m so sorry I treated you that way for so long and I am so sorry I caused that fight and I-I’m so sorry I caused this” 

Jack was fully sobbing and you pulled Jack towards your shoulder, shushing him and you embraced him tightly. 

“This isn’t your fault, Jackie”

“It’s all my fault!” 

“Shh..no it’s not. Jack, it’s ok” 

You looked towards Crutchie who was clearly struggling to keep it together himself. You smiled sadly at him, still embracing Jack as he cried into your shoulder. 

“Jackie?” You asked when Jack had quietened down, “Can we go now?” 

Jack laughed, pulling away from you, “Come on kiddo, let’s go home”

——

A week later, Jack carried you back to the hospital with Crutchie walking beside the two of you.

“You excited, Y/N?” 

“About getting my chair?” 

“Yeah!” Crutchie added, “Finally some independence! Not having to have someone carry you to the toilet all the time?”  

“Please don’t remind me” Jack joked.

“I mean, yeah I’m really excited…but I’m kinda…well..I don’t know. I don’t know how it will do for selling” 

“Y/N, my crutch helps me sell twice as much as any newsie here. You in a char will sell a million!” 

“The Delanceys are never going to let me here the end of it” 

“It’ll be ok” Jack squeezed your leg encouragingly, stepping over the hospital’s threshold. 

“Welcome to the Manhattan hospital” the receptionist smiled, “how may I help you” 

“Uh…we’re here to pick up a wheelchair” Crutchie smiled back, hobbling over towards the desk. 

“Is it for you, sir?” 

“Oh. No. It’s for me” you interrupted, waving slightly while trying not to lose your balance and fall off of Jack. 

“Please can I take your name?” 

“Y/N” 

“I’ll get the doctor” she smiled, heading off to find the doctor and leaving the three of you standing aimlessly in the foyer. 

“Y/N, I’m going to perch you on the desk ok? Sorry, my back is beginning to hurt” Jack groaned, turning around and placing you on the desk. 

“Need a check up? We’re here already” 

“Quiet, you”

“Ah! Y/N” the doctor walked in, smiling when he say you on the desk, “How are you feeling?” 

“Better, thank you. Managing I suppose” 

“That’s fantastic. Have you been coping with getting around alright?” 

“The boys are helping me out just fine” you replied, smiling at Jack and Crutchie. 

“Amazing. Your chair will be through in a moment. I would just like you to fill out this form if you wouldn’t mind” 

“Sure” you took the form and pen off of him and placed it on the desk next to you, using all your strength to try and turn yourself around to fill it out. 

“Name? Y/N. No surname…” 

“Wait, no surname?” Jack asked you.

“Wow. My best friend doesn’t even know that I don’t have a surname” 

“Well, Crutchie and I have one” 

“You knew your parents” you replied, smiling slyly as you continued to fill out the form. 

“Address? The streets? I can’t put that can I?” 

“Lodging house, stupid” 

“Insurance? Honestly, what the hell is this?”

Crutchie ummmed and uhhhhed as he tried to think of how to explain it, “We pay a company to pay for our health care. But we don’t have insurance. We have to pay for our own health care. Davey could probably explain it better” 

“We can’t afford this…we’re newsies! We can barely afford daily food” 

“We’ll manage” Jack reassured, “we always do”

“Seriously, if this is too much and it means we have to spend all the money we have, we’re not taking this chair” you warned, struggling to keep yourself sat up, Jack noticing and moving to let you lay on his back, “Thank you, Jackie”

“Seriously, Y/N. It’s all going to be ok. The strike is over, we’re all back to selling and we’re all here to look after you” Crutchie reassured, hopping over to kiss your forehead before whispering in your ear, “It’s all going to be ok”

——

“RACE! I AM NOT A CAR! PUT ME DOWN!” You screamed joyfully as Race had you tilted up on two wheels, running you down the road as you clung onto the arms for dear life. 

“BUT YOU’RE WINNING!” 

“AGAINST WHO?”

“THE REST OF THE RACERS, DUH!” 

“YOU’RE INSANE!”

Race chuckled as he slowed down to a jog, steering the chair in multiple directions, making a screech as he pulled you to a stop. 

“Please, don’t do that again, Race” you laughed, panting. 

“All part of the fun of you being half a car”

“I’m still a human!”

“Arguable” Elmer muttered as he walked past the two of you.

“Want to stick a worm in his bed later?” Race whispered to you.

“Make it a whole tub and I might accept” 

Race wheeled you to the gate, and headed inside. You had asked him to leave you so you could get the papers yourself, but now you were sat outside, you really regretted asking him. Your heart was beating so quickly you thought it would jump out of your chest. 

“Y/N, you coming?” Crutchie asked as he caught up next to you. 

“I don’t think I can go in” you whispered almost silently.

Crutchie kneeled down, extending his bad leg so he could get to your eye level and feel more comfortable than he would with it bent, “I’m right here. Stick with me kid, I’ll help” 

You smiled and took ahold of the wheels, pushing yourself in and towards Weasel. 

“Y/N!” He cried, almost as if he was upset.

“50 today”

“What happened”

“The fall that happened the day of the fight? Well, now I’m paralysed…all thanks to the two dimwits to your left there” 

The Delancey brothers growled at you but you scowled back, taking the papers from Weasel and placing them in your lap. 

“Are you doing ok? Other than that?” 

“Well, my back is constantly in pain and I still have a million bruises but yes, I’m fine. See you tomorrow” 

You wheeled away and Jack jumped down from the wagon, “you could tone it down on the sarcasm you know” 

“Sarcasm is my only defence…especially now I can’t even walk” 

“Hey, positive thoughts kiddo” 

“Yeah yeah, whatever”

“We ready?” Crutchie asked as he came up next to you and Jack, struggling slightly to keep a hold of all his papers. 

“I honestly don’t know how I’m going to do this” you muttered, trying to keep your papers on your lap while trying to wheel you. Jack picked up on this and placed all his papers on your lap on top of yours. 

“You hold them, I’ll wheel you. Teamwork” 

“Pathetic” 

“No you’re not, Y/N” Crutchie shushed you, a hint of annoyance in his voice, tucking the papers under his arm.

“Sorry, Crutchie” 

“It’s ok. Let’s not go too far today so Y/N can get the hang of things” 

“Good plan. ROMEO!” Jack called.

“Yeah?” Romeo asked, sauntering over towards the three of you. 

“We’re taking your spot. We want to stay close to the gate today so Y/N can get the hang of things, so you take by the bridge today” 

“Sure thing, Jack. Come on Finch” Romeo nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed. 

“Let’s go” 

The three of you headed to the square by the circulation gate, Jack placing you and Crutchie by the statue. 

“I’m just going to the corner by the bakery. If you need me, just call” Jack said, smiling at you while you nodded in agreement. Jack ruffled your hair before walking away, shouting random headlines that weren’t anywhere in the paper. 

“Paper for you, sir?” You asked the closest man to you, who was too interested in the paperwork in his hand to notice you. You watched him walk away but be stopped by Jack, buying a paper and scurrying off. 

You took a deep breath, feeling annoyed with yourself and the world before shouting out the headline, “BROOKLYN BRIDGE TO BE DEMOLISHED! CONNECTION BETWEEN MANHATTAN AND BROOKLYN TO BE CUT OFF” 

“How much?” A man asked as he walked by, not looking at you. 

“Just a penny for you, sir” you replied, smiling at him to try and convince him to give you more. 

“Here you-“ the main began, finally looking up to you, “oh. Uh…looks like that boy over there has more papers so um…thanks anyway”

You groaned and threw your paper back on your lap. Your frustration alarmed Crutchie and he hobbled round from his side of the statue to yours, “hey, you alright?” 

“I told you this isn’t going to work! One look at me and they walk off! I’m not going to sell a single paper!” 

“Positive thoughts. Listen, I’ve only sold 2-“

“2 more than me then” 

“Y/N! JUST LISTEN!” Crutchie raised his voice, clearly frustrated before taking a deep breath, “You can’t give up on the first two people. Want me to stay with you?” 

You nodded, sorting out the crumpled paper on your lap that you had thrown in a strop. 

“NEWSIE PARALYSED FROM FALL! HERE THE STORY FROM RIGHT HERE FOLKS!” 

“Crutchie!” You gasped, looking around at the number of people he had attracted, “you can’t use me!”

“NEWSIE GIVEN A WHEELCHAIR AFTER BEING PUSHED FROM SIX STORY BUILDING! BULLIES PARALYSED NEWSIE!” 

“You the newsie that got paralysed from the fall?” A man asked that came up, fishing in his coat pocket for some change.

“Yes, sir” 

“What happened?” 

“A-a fight broke out between the newsies and the circulation boys and-“ 

“And they got hold of Y/N here and just pushed. Fell down six stories!” Crutchie interrupted, exaggerating the story to get more people passing by interested.

“And you’re paralysed?!” A lady asked having overheard, pulling her husband over with her.

“Yes, maam. From the waist down” 

“You poor thing! What’s it like?” 

“Well, it’s…hard. To do simple things. I have to rely on the boys back at the lodging house to help me bath and dress and even go to the toilet” 

“The lodging house? Are you an orphan?” Another of the crowd asked, louder than the chatters and mumurs around you.

“Yes, I am. I live with nearly a hundred other orphans and abused too”  You smiled sadly at Crutchie who smiled down at you approvingly, his eyes lighting up at the way you had finally brought the attention to yourself that you deserved. 

“Hey, I may as well take a paper while I’m here…” a man pushed his way forward, holding a few dimes in his hand, “What’s the headline?” 

“Still about the Trolley Strike I’m afraid, but there is a very interesting story on a newborn baby born with only one eye” 

“Really, oh, darling let’s get a paper!” A lady told her husband, urging him to get some money. 

“See?” whispered Crutchie, “told you we’ll be ok”

——

The two of you managed to sell your all your papers before dusk so you headed with Jack to the theatre, where Jack carried you up to the box overlooking the stage, setting you down next to Crutchie before heading back off to finish his painting in the workshop. 

“Maybe the chair isn’t bad after all” you whispered to Crutchie, smiling as he took your hand.

“I know. This is the fastest we’ve ever sold all of our papers” 

“Thank you” 

“What for?” 

“Being the best in the whole wide world”

“I’m not” Crutchie laughed, turning his attention back to the show.

“Course you are” you smiled, using all the strength in your upper body to lean over and kiss his cheek.

The two of you watched the show for a while, laughing together when the comedic acts performed and commenting on the singers’ performances. 

“I don’t know about you, Y/N, but I’m pretty hungry…wanna get out of here and grab something to eat?” 

“What were you thinking?” 

“Well…I’m pretty sure Jacobi has something that is on the verge of going rotten that he can’t sell so…how about we stop there?” 

“Oh, how high class!” 

“I know it’s not much now, kiddo, but I promise…when we get out of that house and proper, paying jobs, I’ll be feeding you the finest foods from England and Africa and everywhere else in the world we may never get to see”

“Don’t get my hopes up now, Crutchie” you retorted, shifting round in the seat to get the attention of the usher.

“When and why would I ever do that?” he laughed, placing a hand on your arm to signal you to relax while he hoisted himself up to find the usher. 

You sighed to yourself, “all the time…” 

“Sorry?” 

“Nothing. Come on, I’m hungry” 

“Yes, your majesty” he tried to courtesy, grimacing slightly at the pain it caused his leg.

The usher carried you back down the stairs and helped you into your chair before walking you and Crutchie to the door. When walking (well, pushing yourself) down the streets towards Jacobi’s, you met the two people you didn’t want to ever see outside of the circulation square.

“Shit” you mumbled, Crutchie following your gaze towards the brothers and gulping himself. 

“Well well well!” Oscar declared, “Look at this Morris! It’s the wimpy gimp and the vegetable!” 

“What did you just call me?” You stopped pushing the wheels of your chair, your voice laced with anger.

“You heard him, veggie. Move along before we make you!” Morris spat

“Shut your goddamn mouths!” You cried, twirling the chair around to face their smirk looks, “Only people with a brain have the right to talk to me! Rats have more right to talk to me than either of you!” 

Crutchie whined, knowing what you had just got the two of you into. 

“You hear that, Morris?” 

“Yeah” Oscar chuckled, “sounds like someone needs to be taught a lesson”

“Don’t touch her” Crutchie warned, stepping forward slightly in an effort to shield you.

“What are you going to do, gimpy? Kick me?” Morris laughed, punching Crutchie in the gut. 

You screamed his name, never feeling so useless in your life. You tried to push yourself forward to get to Crutchie, who was laying in a ball on the ground in pain. In the struggle to do this, you didn’t realise Oscar had made his way behind your chair, tilting it so far forward that gravity pulled you to the ground. You groaned in pain, using your arms to shuffle closer towards Crutchie before two hands grabbed your ankles, pulling you backwards and away from him. The brothers continued to punch and kick but gave up when they realised that the two of you were out cold. Instead, they turned to your chair, kicking and breaking it until it was just a pile of pieces on the floor. They had done enough to make you feel physically in pain for a week but mentally for eternity. The brothers made you realise how you were so useless in defending yourself and others when they needed it the most. Jack found the two of you on his way back home from the theatre, calling for help as soon as he realised who you were. He carried you home and a stranger assisted in carrying Crutchie, the two halves of his crutch left behind with the heap of wheelchair pieces.

You dozed in and out of consciousness, hearing Jack whisper, “It’s gonna be ok, kid…it’s gonna be ok”

——

“GUYS! GUYS! Y/N’S WAKING UP!”

You groaned as you blinked, shuffling about in your bed. 

“Y/N?” You heard Crutchie ask in a soft whisper.

“Crutchie…”

“Don’t try to talk, sweetheart” Jack interrupted, “you’ve been out cold for a couple days now…”

“What…why?” 

“They beat you up pretty bad, kid” Crutchie said sadly, stroking your hair as your eyes adjusted to the light, noticing the bruises and cuts on Crutchie’s face.

“Oh my god, Crutchie…” 

“I’m fine, Y/N. I woke up a couple hours afterwards” 

“He’s been sat here ever since” Smalls called out, Race shoving him in embarrassment, so he was sent flying to the back out of sight. 

“Is that true?” 

“Come on, boys. Let Y/N catch up on what’s happened” Jack announced, ushering them out of the dorm.

“Why? Wha-what happened?”

“You’re being laid off, Y/N” Crutchie mumbled, looking down at his hands in disappointment.

“I’m sorry?” 

“The World…they’ve uh…well…someone filed a formal complaint direct to Pulitzer about the fact that you were in a wheelchair and-and…well…you’re banned from selling any anything belonging to The World anymore. Apparently even if you cross the circulation gate, you could be arrested”

“Oh” you whispered, sinking down further into the bed.

“You ok?” 

“I…I don’t know” you whimpered, your breath quivering as your mind was racing with every negative thought you could possibly find, “Nothing ever works out…does it?”

“Y/N-”

“First I can’t walk, then I can’t sell and now I can’t work. I can’t support myself or anyone or-“ 

“Y/N-“

“I can’t get myself up in the morning, I can’t even get to the toilet on my own, I rely on everyone else to take care of me and I can’t help anyone in return. I just wish I could look after everyone else because they all need someone to look after them and I-“

“Y/N!” 

“WHAT?!” You sobbed, the idea that you can’t even work anymore getting to you. 

Crutchie stared at you as you continued to cry, sobbing into your hands until he couldn’t take it anymore. He lunged forward and pulled you towards him, struggling slightly to carry all your weight. Resting your head on his shoulder, you cried as he stroked your head, shushing you calmly. 

“Y/N, calm down” 

“But Crutchie…” 

“No! Listen! You are so loved you have no idea. Everyone will look after you. You have done so much for us since you’ve arrived. Always. Now it’s our time to look after you. We love you. I…I love you” 

“I love you too, Crutchie” you sniffed, returning the phrase in the usual platonic way the two of you did. 

“No, Y/N…I don’t think you understand. I love you. I would do anything for you. Your smile lights up my world and your laugh is the only thing I live for. I want to look after you…let me look after you. Forever.”

“You really mean that?” You whispered, your heart beating the fastest it had ever gone before. So much so you thought you were having heart failure. 

“I mean that more than anything in the whole world” he smiled, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“I…I love you too” you whispered back, tears falling down your cheeks as Crutchie moved down to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“Two bucks” Romeo nudged Race in the side as the entirety of the newsies were watching the scene play out in through the door that was sightly ajar. 

“You cheated. You got Jack to help you” Race groaned as he begrudgingly handed Romeo two dollars. 

——

“Y/N?!” Jack called as he raced up the stairs towards the dorm, “Y/N?” 

“Here” you replied, pulling yourself up from your bunk using the rails above you.

“Woah, hey. Let me help” 

“I’m ok, I can do it” you urged as Jack hurried towards you.

“Seriously, Jack…I can do it” 

“No, let me-“

“JACK!” You snapped, glaring at him as you continued pulling yourself up, finally managing to sit up fully, “See? Did it. I’ve been doing it long enough now…no need to doubt me” 

“I wasn’t doubting you, I just don’t want you to over do it”

“Did you want something, Jack?” 

“Oh right, yeah. I want to take you somewhere” 

“Where?”

“Somewhere”

“Oh right yeah, that well known place…’Somewhere’”

Jack chuckled, sliding his arms underneath your legs and back, “come on, smart ass”

“What if I don’t want to go” 

“Tough”

Jack carried you down the stairs and out towards Central Park, the two of you talking about anything and everything you could think of. 

“So…you and Crutchie?” 

“Shut up” 

“No seriously” Jack chuckled, “It was meant to be. Always has been” 

“Think so?” 

“Know so...speaking of which” Jack nodded his head towards the gaggle of boys by the fountain, Crutchie stood near the middle.

“What’s going on?” You asked Jack as you neared the group.

“Well…” Jack began before Race interrupted.

“Since the Delanceys broke your chair, you need your independence back again” 

“And you must be bored of all of us carrying you around at some point” Romeo added.

“So we all pitched in and got you something!” Smalls piped up, bouncing with excitement. 

Crutchie smiled and disappeared behind the crowd before reappearing, pushing the handlebars of a brand new chair.

“Here you go, kiddo” 

“Guys…” you gasped, the chair clearly more modern and new than the one you were initially given from the hospital. It’s seat looked so comfortable and it even had foot rests. The boys had added rubbering around the wheels to make it more bearable to move. 

“Want to try it out?” Jack asked, laughing when you furiously nodded your head. He placed you in the chair and you shuffled into it. Crutchie bent down and helped guide your feet to the foot rests, kissing you gently but passionately on the way back up.

“How’s it feel” 

“Good…real good” you smiled back, tears threatening to fall, “thank you so much guys”

“It’s nothing. Your family…we love you. We all believe in you, no matter what anyone else in the world thinks. You may not physically be able to, but you still kick ass. You are our everything, and we’re here to look after you forever” Jack announced, smiling at you before remembering the news he had for you. 

“We had a little talk with Pulitzer and explained the situation…you may no longer be a newsie but…he’s willing to offer you a place in the journalism department” 

“What…writing? For the paper?” 

“For the paper” Crutchie confirmed, smiling widely. 

“Seriously?”

“YES!” The crowd said in canon, laughing together. 

“This is honestly the best day ever” 

“Come on boys, let’s get some dinner” Race shouted, waving everyone to follow him to Jacobi’s.

You laughed with the rest of the group, taking a deep breath before pushing the wheels on your chair forward. You smiled as the chair moved so easily and freely, but you were stopped suddenly as Crutchie placed his crutch in front of you. 

“You know,” he said as he moved in front of you, “Jack really meant it. I’m going to look after you until you’re old and grey, my little smart ass-kick ass-pain in the ass-partner in crime” 

“Promise?”

“Promise. It’s all gonna be ok” 

“I love you” you smiled, reaching to grab his neck and pull him towards you, kissing him lovingly.

“And I love you”