ostrich-on-a-rampage-blog · 7 years ago
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Can you maybe do a crutchie/jesse fic where jack finds him crying because the depression of "I love all these people and they're all going to die" hit him and comforts him?
Okay, so I twisted the prompt a little bit. It isn’t Jack who finds him. But, I wanted to fit this prompt into the little narrative I’ve got going so far. Here is Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four. And, yes, there will be a Part Six. Trust me, I can’t end it where it is currently.
Jesse gently rubbed Charlotte’s nose, smiling softly when she nickered. “How are you doing, girl?” he asked, starting to brush the horse down. Charlotte shook her head, and Jesse chuckled. “Yeah? Me, too. Me, too, girl.” He hesitated, mid-brush, before shaking his head and continuing brushing the dappled gray mare down. “It’s been three weeks. Three weeks, Charlotte. I thought I would’ve been, I don’t know, over it, by now. Or, rather, I had hoped that I’d be over it.”
Charlotte blinked sympathetically.
“He was just… the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I just didn’t realize it until it was far too late. But, you get that, eh, girl?”
Charlotte nickered.
“It was my fault,” Jesse explained, as he gathered Charlotte’s feed. “I shouldn’t have ever left him. I knew I loved him, I just… I think I idolized Winnie, to an extent. Six years is a long time, Charlotte. It didn’t feel long, after, you know, a century, but it’s long for everyone else. It was stupid of me, but I just assumed that Winnie would be the exact same as what she used to be. I should never have been such an idiot.”
Charlotte nudged at Jesse, nearly causing him to drop the feed onto the floor. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he told the horse, grinning as she nosed into the bucket of feed. The grin slipped. “It’s not like I can ever go back to him,” he told the horse, rubbing her neck as she ate. “He’s… He’s mortal, you know. He’ll have completely forgotten me and moved on within the next six years. Trust me, it always happens. Six years is so short… Six years is so long.”
“Hey, kid, stop your yapping, and get to work! We’se got another show tonight!”
Jesse startled at the call, jerking around to stare at the man gesturing outside of the temporary stables. “I know, I know. I was just–”
“This is me not caring,” the man said, pointing to his face, before leaving Jesse alone. “Stupid children…”
“Well, you heard the boss,” Jesse told Charlotte. “I gotta get going. Show’s tonight. And everyone’s all hopping-anxious because we missed the show last night. One mis-step and I’ll be kicked back to the street.”
Jesse patted Charlotte one last time, before heading out of the makeshift stable and towards where some of the workers were checking the large, white tent and the bleachers, ensuring that everything was set for the circus that night. After the blowout between him and Jack, Jesse had decided to join a circus and just travel the world. At least, until he had to move on to something else when people began to suspect his age.
“Hey, Jesse!” a younger boy ran up to Jesse, grinning widely. He had dark brown hair that flopped into his eyes with each movement, causing the boy to constantly be brushing it out away from his forehead. He had told Jesse that he was twelve, but Jesse was pretty certain that the boy was even younger. He had a gap in his teeth, but the boy had proudly proclaimed that his “big-kid teeth” were coming, any day now. “Where was you keeping yourself, huh?” the boy asked, brushing the too-long hair back behind his ears. “Pa was lookin’ for you.”
“Oh, was he, Nate?” Jesse asked. Nate’s father was the ringmaster of the circus: a stern, moustachioed man that had glared at Jesse, until Nate had convinced his father to allow Jesse to work with them. The young boy had quickly become the younger brother that Jesse had always wanted, and Jesse would do just about anything for the kid.
“Yeah,” Nate said, nodding seriously. “He said, ‘If that damn boy ain’t workin’, I’m kickin’ ‘im.’ He said that to me,” Nate said, even imitating his father’s gruff voice.
“You wouldn’t let him just kick me, would ya, Nate?”
Nate shook his head. “Never. I told pa that you’d be getting to work, so it’s all good.”
“Thanks, Nate,” Jesse said, ruffling Nate’s thick hair. “You’se the best little brother a boy could hope for.” He froze, mid-step, remembering similar words that Jack had said, back when he had first joined the newsboys of Lower Manhattan. Jesse swallowed thickly, before shaking his head and waving away Nate’s worried questions of his health. “I’m fine, kid. Let’s just get going. What did your pa need us to do, again?”
Jesse found himself back with Charlotte again. “I just… I just wish that there was a way that he wouldn’t die. I… Was it right? Not letting him drink from the Spring? Should I have… I don’t know, just let him live forever? Subject him to this special type of hell?” Jesse asked, swiping angrily at the tears that were starting to form. Charlotte remained, as usual, unhelpfully silent. “Nah, he’d’ve hated me. He’d start waking up each morning, wishing he were dead, and he’d start hating me.” Jesse laughed around a sob. “Not that I was even able to keep him from hating me this way, either. No matter what I do, he hates me. And now… Now, he gets to die. Oh, god, Charlotte. There’s gonna be a day that I wake up, seventeen still, and he’s just… He’s gonna be dead. He’s gonna die, Charlotte. Maybe I should’ve just let him drink from the Spring…” Jesse trailed off, taking a gulping breath. “Either way, I lose, Charlotte. This life ain’t ever treated me kindly, so I guess it suits that I would still… lose everything.” Jesse broke off, burying his head into his arms.
Usually, Jesse could try to hide the grief that dragged down at his shoulders. He was so skilled at just smiling and laughing, and pushing it all into the back of his mind. His family, the newsboys, the circus workers, no one had ever suspected… And, then there were days when he couldn’t seem to push Jack out of his mind, couldn’t get rid of the memories of the newsboys. Of the boys that would be dead, long before he ever found rest. And, he’d lock himself with Charlotte and cry until he felt numbed toward the pain, toward his awful lot in life.
“Uh, Jesse?”
Jesse jerked upright, staring in surprise at Nate. “Nate, what’re ya–”
“Are you crying?”
He swiped quickly at the tears that had already streaked down his cheeks. “I’m fine, Nate. Is the show starting soon? Do we need to start collecting tickets?”
“You was crying,” Nate accused.
“Yeah, maybe I was. But it don’t matter. Is you pa looking for me again?”
“What was you crying about?” Nate asked, helping Jesse stand up.
Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know. Nothing important.”
Nate crossed his arms to his chest. “I don’t believe you. You can tell me. What else is brothers for?”
“I just… You ever had someone you know die?”
“Yeah,” Nate said, nodding sadly. “My grandpa did. Is… Did one of your friends die?”
Jesse snorted humorlessly. “All of them.”
“Oh,” Nate said, his voice small. “I’m sorry.” He quickly pulled Jesse into a tight hug. “At least, I’m still here, yeah? And we’re friends.”
“Yeah, we’re friends,” Jesse agreed, though the phrase panged painfully at his heart. This was just one more kid who would die, leaving Jesse empty and alone. He tried to smile, though he wasn’t entirely sure that the motion was believable. If Nate noticed, he didn’t comment on it, instead, he grabbed Jesse’s hand. “Come on, Jesse. Let’s get going. The show’ll start soon.”
Jesse followed Nate to one of the entrances to the main tent, pasting a wide smile on his face. He started collecting tickets from the eager circus-goers, quickly losing count of the many families pouring into the tent. He smiled at the women, nodded to the men, laughed with the children, all in an effort to banish the ever-expanding emptiness within his chest. Once the majority of the guests had arrived, Jesse and Nate entered the tent, taking their seats at the far side. “You feeling better, Jesse?” Nate asked, taking a bite of the sandwich his pa had pressed into his hands, before making his way around the tent to prepare for his entrance.
“Yeah, I’m feeling better,” Jesse lied, watching as Charlotte galloped around the ring, her rider poised elegantly on the horse’s bare back. He allowed himself to smile a little bit. He did really love the circus. Jesse thought that this was one of the few places that he could let all his past go, and just focus on the joy and excitement that thrummed through the crowd.
The lion tamer was just beginning to lead the lions into the circle, when the band began to play “Stars and Stripes Forever.” Nate immediately paled, dropping his sandwich. “What is it?” Jesse asked, noticing the sudden change in Nate’s demeanor.
“The song,” Nate whispered. “It means something bad is happening.”
Jesse glanced around, trying to ascertain what was happening. There was no sign of chaos or danger, that Jesse had assumed would accompany the portending song. “Let’s just get out of here,” Jesse suggested, grabbing Nate’s arm and starting to lead him out of the big top.
By the time they had slipped out of the tent, Jesse could hear shouts and cries coming from the tent. People were beginning to flee, running like mad to escape the unknown danger. Jesse grabbed the arm of a man running, pulling him to a stop. “What’s happening?” Jesse demanded.
The man glanced back into the tent. “It’s a fire. And it’s spreading like hell.” He tore his arm out of Jesse’s grasp, dashing back into the night.
“A fire?” Nate asked, his eyes shining bright with fear and worry.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Jesse reassured Nate. He examined the tent, noticing that he could see the bright flames flickering behind the hordes of people struggling to escape what could probably be imminent death.
“Jesse!”
Jesse whirled around, surprised to see his brother and… and Jack running toward him. How… How had they found him? And why? “Crutchie!” Jack shouted, reaching him and pulling him into a tight hug. “Crutchie, I–I–”
“What are you guys doing here?” Jesse asked, cautiously returning Jack’s hug, but looking toward his older brother. He hadn’t seen Miles in six years, but now his older brother was scanning him, almost worriedly.
“Jesse, we had to find you and I was worried–” Miles started, but was interrupted by Nate.
Nate grabbed Jesse’s elbow, tugging him out of Jack’s arms. “Jesse, I don’t see my pa. I don’t see my pa!”
“He’s going to get out,” Jesse reassured him, turning back to Jack. He stared in wonder at the boy he had thought would have thought would never look in his direction again. “Jack, I–I didn’t mean…” Jesse trailed off, some sixth sense prickling uncomfortably. Something was wrong. It just felt… He turned around, but Nate wasn’t there. “Nate… Nate!” Jesse shouted, whirling in a tight circle, but not being able to find the younger boy. His eyes were inexplicably drawn to the tent, where he could catch glimpses of the flames, reaching up higher and higher in the tent.
Jesse immediately started toward the tent, but Jack grabbed his arm. “No, Crutchie, don’t,” Jack said, his voice strangely desperate.
“Don’t worry,” Jesse said, smiling back at Jack, who’s face was contorted with fear and horror. “I can’t die. But, Nate can and I can’t let that happen.” Jesse tore out of Jack’s grasp, ignoring his shouts for him to stop and wait. He couldn’t afford to do that, not when Nate had most likely run back into the burning inferno, unaware of the dangers.
Jesse pushed past the frantic crowds of circus-goers, scanning the crowd for a familiar mop of brown hair. “Nate!” he called out, trying to find the younger boy. “Nate!” Jesse edged into the tent, ignoring the sting of smoke and rancid smell of burning paraffin wax. He blinked tears away, trying to find Nate in the crowd. “Nate!” he shouted. He refused to leave the tent until Nate was safe. Nate was practically his younger brother, and Jesse would never forgive himself if the boy died.
A glob of paraffin dripped from the top of the tent, splattering on Jesse’s bare arm. He hissed in pain, immediately wiping the burning wax off of him, then he froze. Jesse hadn’t felt true pain for over a century. He wasn’t supposed to feel pain, he wasn’t supposed to get hurt. But, if he did… Did that mean that the immortality had worn off? It made sense: pain and death were interconnected. If he had one, surely he had the other…
Jesse shook the thoughts away. It didn’t matter. Nate was more important. He would find Nate, and they’d both get out of there. They’d be safe, they’d be alive. But, he had to find Nate first. “Nate!” Jesse shouted, renewing his frantic search, “Nate, please!” He began coughing, the thick smoke crowding at his lungs. What if he were to die? What would Jack and Miles think? Jesse cracked a sarcastic smile. Well, then Miles would know that the curse was finally broken. “Nate!”
There! Across the tent, Jesse spotted Nate, looking dazed as he watched the flames curl up the sides of the tent. “Nate!” Jesse shouted, dashing to the younger boy. He grabbed him, and started tugging the younger boy to the entrance of the tent.
Nate tried to shake himself out of Jesse’s arms. “My pa! I haven’t found my pa!”
“We’ll find him later,” Jesse grunted, working his way closer and closer to safety. There was still a large crowd of people stampeding to the entrance, screams echoing louder than the intense crackling of the fire. The heat was pressing against Jesse like an actual physical force, and he was tempted to just lay down and sleep, give up. Jesse pushed the temptation away, struggling against Nate’s frantic attempts to break free and continue his search for his father. “Come on,” Jesse muttered, “we just gotta get out there and then everything will be okay.”
He merged within the crowd, finally just hoisting Nate up into his arms and carrying him, bridal style. Nate still fought, but the movements were slowing, slacking. Jesse glanced down at the younger boy, fearfully, before continuing his trek forward. Nate’s eyes were blinking lethargically up at him, confusion and heat making the orbs glassy. They had to make it out. He was being jostled by each side, and then suddenly, he was falling forward, the ground rushing up to him. Jesse managed to catch himself before he fell on top of Nate. He stayed like that, propped on all fours, breathing heavily. But, before Jesse could grab Nate and get up, someone tripped over him, and soon more and more people were tripping and falling in their haste to get out of the burning tent. Someone landed on him, and then someone else. Jesse tried to protect Nate, tried to get up, but then there was someone else on him. He couldn’t hold them up, he couldn’t–
Something hit Jesse’s head, and all went black.
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