Mother Henning

We're Okay

Ever since the strike ended, Jack barely let Crutchie out of his sight. Who could blame him? He still blamed himself for letting Crutchie get captured despite him telling him countless times it wasn't his fault. No matter what he said, Jack till felt that there was more he could've done to prevent it.

He had to wait an entire hour after reading Crutchie's letter before going to see him in order to let his sobs calm down. Seeing him laying in the refuge, broken and bruised, was devastating. He had called him his brother, and brothers were supposed to prevent things like that from happening.

When he saw Crutchie after the strike, he wrapped him up in his arms, never wanting to let go. He had been so worried about him, so worried he wasn't going to make it. He vowed right then and there that he wasn't going to let anything else happen to him.

He's hardly left his side since, being even more attached to the boy than usual. The other newsies took notice, but no one dared to say anything. Crutchie knew it wasn't healthy for him to be so obsessed. He knew Jack forced himself to stay awake even when he couldn't keep his eyes open for one second to ensure that he himself got some much needed rest. But when he tried to tell Jack that he should sleep too, he'd just wave his hand and shake his head, saying, "Nah, I'm good." He gave Crutchie most of his food he got, insisting he needed it more. While he was grateful for everything he was doing, he was also worried for his friend. He could take care of himself. He was fine. All he needed now was for Jack to see this, and stop neglecting his needs for Crutchie's.

The frequent night terrors he was having of the refuge didn't help his case however, and only served to make Jack worry even more. He was always there to wake him from them: worried eyes meeting frantic ones in dim lighting and a hushed voice telling him it was over while strong arms wrapped themselves around him in a comforting hug. But for once he'd like to wake from one alone, seeing Jack fast asleep and undisturbed. He hated when he made others worry, and that's all Jack had been lately: an anxious worried mess.

"Jack, you awake?" He asked into the dark knowing he'd receive an immediate answer. "Yeah buddy, what's wrong?" Jack instantly replied, concern evident in his voice. Typical.

"Nothin', I just want ya to know know that I's fine. You don't have t' break your back to watch out for me," he said.

"'M not breakin' my back, it's no trouble lookin' out for you," Jack scoffed. Crutchie turned to face him, saying, "You've been ignorin' yourself in order to look after me. You don't have ta do dat. I'm fine."

"It's really no problem for me," Jack insisted.

"When's da last time you got a good night's rest or ate a full meal?" Crutchie retorted. Jack didn't answer, choosing instead to look at the ground. "Dat's what I thought. I've told ya, I'm fine. So you can stop mother henning me," he said with a teasing smile, nudging his shoulder.

"'M not mother henning you. It's more like babysittin'," he joked right back. "Hey!" Crutchie cried out, causing Jack to laugh. "Deny it all you want, but you was definitely mother henning. You may can trick da others with dat tough guy act, but ya can't fool me," Crutchie said proudly. "'S not a act! I's tough," Jack defended.

"I ain't sayin' you ain't! I's just sayin' you got more soft spots dan you like ta admit." Jack rolled his eyes, "Pft, yeah, whatever." Crutchie reached out to prod at his side, "You know I's right!" Jack covered his mouth to stop his laughter, using the other hand to bat at his.

"An' ya haven't been smilin' or laughin' as much, but I can fix dat!" Crutchie wasted no time and pounced, quickly straddling his waist and pinning him. "Not bad for a crip, eh Jack?" he asked, digging his hands underneath his arms, laughter bursting from his mouth. "Cruhuhuhutchie gehehet off!" Jack pleaded, but did nothing to defend himself. He just laid there laughing, his arms flailing uselessly.

"Nah, I'm too comfortable ta move. An' you look pretty happy yourself Jack!" he teased, poking around his middle. "Shuhuhut the hehehehehell up!" Crutchie gasped, pulling his hand back and placing it over his chest. "Such language Jack! What if one of da younger newsies hear ya talkin' like dat?" he asked, over exaggeration laced into every word he spoke.

"Dey get a widened vocabulary," he sassed, rolling his eyes. Crutchie almost laughed at that, but covered it with a scandalized look. "What kinda role model would you be if ya did that?"

Jack averted his eyes, suddenly becoming morose. "I ain't no role model. Just a kid livin' on da streets." Crutchie blinked, taken aback by the change in demeanor. "What? No, Jack you's a great role model!" He forced a sad smile, letting out a chuckle.

"I'm serious Jack! Now do ya believe me?" Jack
sighed in defeat, "I guess I have to admit you's right, or else I'd never hear da end of it." Crutchie offered a warm hearted smile. "You's still not gonna hear da end of it," he said. Jack only groaned. "Hey quit ya mopin' why not laugh instead!"

"Wait, Crutchie nohohoho! Dahahamnit!"

Jack might have been mothering Crutchie a bit too much, but who could blame him for looking after his brother?