Jack x Crutchie Oneshots (Newsies)

Regret

A/N: Hello! First, thank you for 300+ reads!!! You're support means a lot :) Second, this oneshot takes place during the musical, after Crutchie is taken to the refuge and Jack sings Santa Fe. Anyways, hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day :)

Medda PoV:

Knock knock knock.

Medda looked up from the sheet music she had been scanning. She turned towards the door in confusion. She didn't remember anyone scheduling a visit today. And even if they did, they wouldn't come in from the side door.

Knock knock knock knock.

There it was again. More frantic now.

Medda stood up and walked over to the door and opened it cautiously.

"Hey... Miss. Medda..." Said an all too familiar voice.

Standing in front of her was Jack, but not the Jack she was used to.

The Jack she knew always had a bright smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with confidence. The Jack in front of her was nothing like that.

His smile was forced and his eyes were red and puffy from crying. A nasty looking bruise snaked up the side of his face and there were dark bags under his eyes. His lip was split and he was gripping the strap of his bag so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"Jack. What's wrong, Baby?" Medda asked, thinking through all the possibilities of what could have happened.

Jack's smile faltered before falling completely. His eyes welled up with tears and he let out a heartbreaking sob.

Quick as a flash, Medda wrapped her arms around the teenager and ushered him inside. Once the door was closed the two sank to the floor, Medda holding Jack tightly.

"It's okay." Medda murmured as Jack continued to cry.

"He's gone." Jack cried, "It's my fault."

The only time Medda had even seen Jack cry was when Jack had told her about his crush on Crutchie. He had been so ashamed and afraid she would turn him into the police he had started to cry. Jack prided himself on being strong for the rest of the newsies and never cried unless something really horrible happened.

"Who's gone?" Medda asked as gently as she could.

"T-they took him. They took Crutchie." Jack sobbed, his voice cracking on the name.

Medda's heart dropped as she held Jack closer. Crutchie had been taken to the refuge.

"It's my fault! I-I just stood there and let it happen." Jack said, tears falling onto Medda's shoulder.

"Miss the doors are going to open in 30..." the stage manager's voice trailed off as he noticed Jack.

"Cancel all the shows for today." Medda said.

"But Ma'am—" he started. He was cut off again by Medda giving him a sharp look. He nodded and darted out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Y-ya don't have to do that, Miss Medda." Jack hiccuped, his tears slowing.

Instead of responding, Medda took off Jack's hat and bag, throwing them into the room. "If I'm taking the day off, so are you."

"I can't," Jack's voice cracked, "the strike..."

"Jack." Medda chided. After a moment, Jack let out a long sigh.

"Fine, I'll take the day off." He said, wiping his last few tears away.

"Good," Medda said with a smile, "I'm going to go get some tea and something to help with that bruise of yours. Then, when you're ready, you can tell me all about what happened." She ruffled Jack's hair with a small smile before standing up and leaving the room.

Medda grabbed her first aid kit that she kept by her desk and on the way she grabbed an extra cup and a tea bag.

She reentered the and sat back down next to Jack, who was hugging his knees to his chest and staring at nothing. Medda pulled a rag out of her kit and dipped it into a bucket of cold water before gently cleaning his split lip.

Jack grit his teeth but stayed silent as Medda cleaned the rest of his injuries.

"There. That should help the swelling a bit." Medda said with a smile as she put away the rag and handed Jack the tea.

"Thanks Ms. Medda. You'se a gem." He said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Then, with a shuddering breath, Jack began to explain what happened.

Medda listened in silent horror as Jack recounted the fight with the Delancey brothers, the brutality of the police, and of course, Snyder taking Crutchie.

"Jack, dear, none of that was your fault." She said as Jack finished his story, clutching the cup of tea so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

"But it is!" He cried, standing up suddenly. Medda watched silently as he paced back and forth across the dressing room, "I-I promised I'd protect him. I told him we was gonna go to Santa Fe together and that everything was gonna be okay. And now..." Jack finally stopped, his eyes brimming with tears, "I let him down. I let everyone down."

"Jack, listen to me," Medda said, standing up and gently cupping Jack's face in her hands, "You can't blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. Some things are out of our control. You can't undo the past. I know that doesn't make it hurt any less, but wasting time thinking about 'what if's isn't going to fix anything. I will do everything I can to help you get through this, but I won't let you beat up on yourself. Okay?"

Jack nodded before crushing Medda in a tight hug. She hugged him back, running a hand through his hair gently.

"We're going to get him back, I promise." Medda murmured.

Jack managed a small nod.

"Thank you." Jack hiccuped, clutching her dress so tightly that his chuckles turned white.

"Of course." She replied, "Now let's find you somewhere to sleep. Based on those bags under your eyes, you didn't get nearly enough sleep last night. You're gonna need all the energy you can get if you want to rescue Crutchie."

Jack finally managed a small, but genuine, smile, "Yeah... okay."

Medda led Jack to a room backstage that was filled with old props and costumes from previous shows. It also had a large number of backdrops painted by Jack himself. Medda grabbed a pile of blankets that she always kept on hand in case one of her actors or crew members needed to stay the night and placed them on a worn green couch.

The couch was old and had been in the theater for as long as Medda had been there (which was a long time). The cushions were lumpy, the color had faded to a dull fern, and it was sewn back together in multiple different places. Medda fluffed one of the pillows before placing it back on the couch.

Jack pulled off his vest and unbuttoned his blue work shirt, leaving his striped tank top on.

Jack laid down on the couch and Medda pulled the blanket over him with motherly care. In mere seconds, the teen was fast asleep, breathing slowly.

Medda brushed his unkempt hair out of his face.

He's only 17. She thought as she picked up Jack's discarded clothes, closing the door behind her, He's too young to have to worry about these kinds of things.

Medda walked back into her private dressing room, collected Jack's hat and bag, placing all of the belongings in a neat pile. Her mind spun as she placed the cups of tea in the sink and put away the first aid kit.

None of these kids, not Jack, not Crutchie, not any of them, should have to live in fear of going to jail just for existing. It wasn't right.

Medda sat down at her desk and picked up the phone. She rarely used the phone but this was the fastest way, and time was of the essence. She carefully dialed the number she knew by heart and waited.

"Hello?" A gruff voice answered.

"Teddy? This is Medda. Do you have a minute?"