DISCLAIMER: This may come as a bit of a surprise, but the characters in this story belong to Disney. (Who'd have thought that?) They were borrowed without permission. No copyright infringement intended. No money was made. (As if anyone would pay me for this.)
Thanks to Lynn and Marie for their support and encouragement, and to Powder for her unbelievable patient proofreading and editing. (I owe you, guys!)
All remaining mistakes are mine.

"Hey, Cowboy" - Jack turned around to greet Les and his brother David.
"Hi, what kept you? I was already wondering whether you'd show up at..."
'Oh no!' he thought upon seeing the sad and depressed look on their faces. 'What's wrong with everybody today?' He went closer and put a hand on David's shoulder. "What's the matter?" he asked in a low voice.
Dave threw a quick glance around and, seeing that no other newsies were paying any attention, as they were all engaged in some strange bet Race had organized, finally answered, "It's about papa."
"Oh," Jack responded, worry clearly showing on his face. Though Mr. Jacobs arm had gotten a lot better during the last few month, it had never healed completely. For some time now, he had tried to find a job anyway. After his former bosses had told him clearly that they had no need for a crip , he had asked for a job in just about every factory, workshop and storehouse in New York, but all to no avail. Jack knew that he felt guilty because he could not send David and Les back to school, and because his wife and children had to work to pay the rent and bring food on the table, while he was just sitting around, unable to earn any money to support his family. "He went to another interview yesterday afternoon," David continued. "Looks like he practically begged for a job, offering to work for half the wages, but they just told him he was useless." Jack heard Les stifle a sob. He drew him close in a protective gesture.
"You should have seen him, Cowboy," the small boy cried, "when he came home yesterday. He was so strange, he wept and shouted at Mum and he said he was worthless and he'd leave us for he was only a burden and one mouth more to be filled..."
"Hey, hey, it's okay Les," Jack still held him close, stroking his back. He looked at David.
"You know, Jack," David explained, "We've never seen him like this before." His own voice was thick now and Jack could see that he was close to tears himself. David bent down to Les and took his little brother in his arms. "But Les,", he reassured him, "he was drunk. He didn't mean what he said. He won't leave us. Will he, Jack ?" Jack could hardly bear the sad look in his friend's eyes. He knew that David wasn't nearly as sure of his words as he wanted his little brother to believe.
"No, he won't," he answered, "He loves you too much to do that."
David noticed that some newsies were beginning to look at the little group quizzically. 'Oh no, please, I don't want to have to explain... I suppose most of them have seen fathers do worse things, but still...'
At that moment, the circulation bell rang. David breathed a sigh of relief. 'Well, I guess that's what they call "saved by the bell" ' he thought cynically, then he followed Jack and Les to Weasel's box.

The headline was really hot that day: "Frank Ketler's body found in the nude." Frank Ketler had been one of New York richest bankers, and a headline like that was every newsie's dream. Jack and David both bought two hundred newspapers. "Hey, Dave, what do you say, shall we start to sell right away, or would you rather talk some more first?" Jack asked his friend, still full of concern.
"I'd rather start now. Two hundred is quite a lot, and, well, you know, the others..." David glanced meaningfully at some newsies who were still looking over at them, obviously aware that something was wrong with David and Les.
"Okay." Jack said. He ruffled Les' hair and winked at the little boy. "See you at Tibby's at one?" "Sure."

Jack watched his friends worriedly while they left the yard, David still holding Les close. When he turned around to the others, Crutchy was just walking up to Weasel's box. "Twenty please," he said.
Jack went up to his side at once. "Hey, Crutchy, did I just hear you say 'twenty'?" he remarked as casually as possible. "Haven't you seen the headline? It's hot!"
"Yeah, and I said I'd like twenty." Crutchy replied. "Just a moment, Weasel," Jack shot to the man behind the counter who was already looking at the boys with an annoyed expression on his face. He turned to his friend again. "Hey, Crutchy, if you're short on money, I could lend you some, that's no problem."
"No Jack, I don't want your money! I don't need your money, I don't need your help and I'm perfectly able to decide myself how many papers I want to buy, understood?" Jack was totally baffled. He had never seen Crutchy so angry before, and he had certainly never heard him shout like this, neither at him nor at any other newsie.
"Will you two reach a decision anytime soon?" Weasel grumbled. "Cowboy, can't you mind your own business and let this crip mind his?" Jack was still too shocked about Crutchy's reaction to find any reply. Crutchy just grabbed his newspapers and left without another look at Jack. After a moment, Jack started to follow him, but then thought better of it. Race walked up to him.

"What was that, Cowboy? What's wrong with Crutchy?"
"I've got no idea."
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
"Well, it's certainly worth a try, but be careful. You saw what just happened."
"Sure will." Race moved to run after Crutchy, but Jack held him by the shoulder.
"Not now, Race. Give him time to cool down," he said.
"Yeah, good idea," Race confessed, then took his papers and left the yard, hawking the headline at the top of his lungs.
Jack stood for a moment, thinking about Crutchy, Dave and Les. "Got a feeling it'll be a difficult day," he murmured "It's good at least the papers will sell on their own; I really have other things on my mind."

Jack entered Tibby's at a quarter past one. He was relieved to see David and Les chatting happily with Blink, Mush, Specs and some of the other boys, their problems obviously forgotten for the moment. He spotted Race at the counter and walked over to him. "Have you talked to Crutchy?" he asked.
"No," Race replied. "Didn't meet him while selling and he hasn't shown up here yet." Jack glanced around. Race was right, Crutchy was missing. Okay, it was not as if every single newsie showed up at Tibby's every day, but...
"Race, did you see Crutchy here yesterday?"
"Err...no."
"The day before?"
"I'm not sure but... don't think so."
"I'm pretty sure I haven't seen him here for at least four days," Jack stated, looking at Race, who slowly nodded. "I wonder what he does all day. It can hardly be selling papers. With a headline like this, there's no way he still has some left."
"I guess he really has a problem, then. I'll talk to him as soon as he gets to the Lodging House." "Hope you'll have more luck than I had, Race," Jack said, before he joined his other friends at the table.

The time passed quickly as they told each other of the days events, joked and laughed. Jack was relieved to see how relaxed David and Les seemed. 'Perhaps they are over it by now,' he hoped. 'These things look less scary once you get some distance.' But when the boys left Tibby's about an hour later, David drew Jack aside.
"Jack," he started nervously. "Could you do me a favor?"
"Anything you need."
"Well, you know, just in case...if we come home and things are...bad...could I send Les over to the Lodging House? I don't want him to have another night like the last." His voice nearly broke. "Dave," Jack said softly, putting an arm around David's shoulders. "Everything will be all right. Your father's a great man. He may have been drunk yesterday, but believe me, he'll be regretting it by now."
"I hope so, but if..."
"If anything's wrong, you can not only send Les, you can come yourself and bring Sarah, too." "No, we have to stay with Mum; she wouldn't leave papa alone in that state. Will you look after Les if I have to send him?"
"Dave, first, of course I would, after all he's like a little brother to me too, and second, please stop worrying. Everything's gonna be okay."
"Thanks, Jack," David said, hugging Jack close for a moment. "I hope you're right." "Sure I am," Jack tried to put as much conviction as possible in his voice. He had seen a lot of families ruined by unemployment and alcohol in his life, his own one of them, but he believed in the Jacobs. To him, they had always been the perfect family, and he was sure they could withstand any crisis.

At that moment, Les ran over to join his brother and Jack. "What are you doing here all alone?" "Oh, nothing much," Jack answered, grinning at the young boy. "I'm just trying to teach your brother to sell papers."
"Hey, that's unfair! David is nearly as good a newsie as you! He is the third-best newsie in all of New York!"
"The third best?" David sighed in mock annoyance. "I always hoped you'd at least accept me as second after Jack."
"Well, err... ," Les stammered, blushing. "You know, there's Cowboy, and then there's Spot, too...But being the third best Newsie in New York is pretty good, isn't it, Cowboy?" "Sure is," Jack said, having difficulties not laughing out loud. "And Spot's in Brooklyn, Dave, so you're the second best newsie in Manhattan!"
David rolled his eyes, lifting Les up and holding him close to reassure the boy he wasn't hurt or angry. "What would I do without the both of you constantly reminding me of my social status?" Laughing, they headed down the street, following the others. There were still some papers to sell, so the newsies spread out once again, carrying the banner.

In the evening, when Jack returned to the Lodging house, Race met him at the doorstep. "Hi Cowboy, I've talked to Crutchy..."
"And?" Jack asked anxiously.
"And all hell broke loose! I really approached him absolutely casually, asked how the selling was today, and he practically exploded into my face. He told me to mind my own business and accused me of spying on him for you - which I basically couldn't deny - he screamed at everyone that he didn't want to be pampered and that we all should leave him alone."
"Where is he now?" Jack asked, full of concern and bewilderment.
"In bed. Right after his outbreak he got undressed, lay down, pulled the blanket over his head and pretended to be sleeping. Some of the others tried to talk to him but he didn't react, and I finally persuaded them to leave him alone. What now?"
"I don't know, Race," Jack confessed, pain in his voice. "He's obviously got a problem, and a really bad one it seems, and we can't help him if he won't tell us."
"Well, do you think he will, eventually?"
"I hope so, but if not... Listen, Race, we must keep an eye on him, but he can't notice or he might even leave. Maybe we can help him by just being there, and if not, all we can do is wait till he opens up."
"Okay," Race replied. "Count me in."
"Someone must be near him all day. Spread the word, Race. He'd notice if one of us stuck to his heels all the time. We have to take turns at it. We've got to find out what's happening. I'm afraid it must be really serious."
"I don't like the idea of spying on him, Cowboy."
"Me neither. He's my friend, Race, and I hate doing things behind his back. But something is happening to him, and it's making him suffer quite a lot. Have you seen how weak and pale he looks? We've got to find out what's wrong."
"Yes, sure, you are right. We have no choice. Jack, I... I may be overdramatizing, but with the way he looks and everything, I nearly fear for his life," Race confessed in a low, worried voice. Jack looked at him gravely. "Me too, Race. Me too."

Jack walked into the bunkroom. The newsies were chatting and playing cards as always, but there was an unusual tension in the air. Jack noticed they were throwing stealthy glances at Crutchy's bunk every few moments, and many of them looked at him now, as if to say "Do something, Cowboy!" He felt as helpless as them.

Slowly, he approached Crutchy's bunk and asked warily, "Crutchy? Are you sleeping?" No reaction. Carefully, Jack drew back the blanket. He saw that Crutchy's eyes were closed, and his breast raised and lowered slowly. He obviously had really fallen asleep by now. 'Just as well,' Jack thought. 'Weak as he is, he can hardly get enough rest.' He covered his friend with the blanket once again, then turned around to the others. They were all looking at him from their various places on their bunks or on the floor, and in all of their eyes Jack read the same question "What's wrong with Crutchy?"
Jack sighed. 'I wish I had the answer!' he thought. Aloud he said, "Come on guys, let's call it a night." The boys nodded slowly and headed for their bunks. They were unusually quiet. Mush and Kid Blink tried to come over and have a look at Crutchy themselves, but Jack blocked their way. "Let him be. He needs to rest," he explained.
"Okay Cowboy," Mush said, and Blink asked, "Is Crutchy sick or what? He might well be, he looks like a ghost, but that still doesn't explain his strange behavior."
"I don't know, Blink, but we'll find out tomorrow. We'll take turns and watch him till we know what's wrong. Talk with Race; he'll work out the details."
"Spying on him?" Mush sounded shocked.
Blink put an arm around his shoulders. "We have to. Jack's right. Don't you see it's urgent?" "Yes, I see, but I wish we didn't have to," Mush responded.
Jack looked at him and said, "Well, I also wish we didn't have to do this. I wish we could find another way. I'll talk to him once more in the morning, but if he doesn't open up then, I see no other chance."
Mush and Blink nodded, "You're right Cowboy, we're with you. Night."
"Night," Jack answered before he slowly climbed into his own bunk.
He lay awake for over an hour, the day's events still spinning in his head. But finally exhaustion overpowered him, and he fell asleep.

"No! No please not Dad, I didn't do it! I swear! Please Dad no, no don't! Not again! Please! Please Dad! Noooooooooo!"
Jack awoke to the sound of horrible cries. He was confused for a moment, then he realized it was Crutchy who was crying in his sleep. The other newsies were stirring in their beds, some of them sitting up to see what was going on. Jack jumped off his bunk and was over at Crutchy's side at once. He gently shook his shoulder.
"It's okay Crutchy, it's just a dream, come on wake up, everything's all right," he tried to soothe his friend. For a while the screams went on, but finally they subsided and Crutchy awoke. His face was awash with tears and he was still sobbing and shaking violently.
"Jack?"
"Yes, yes I'm here! Everything's all right. You just had a bad dream." Jack sat down on Crutchy's bunk and drew the shaking and weeping boy in a close embrace.
"It's okay, Crutchy, it's okay."
"Jack, please, don't leave me alone now, please stay with me!" Crutchy sobbed. Jack realized that the nightmare, whatever it had been, had crushed the defenses his friend had built up during the last days.
'Perhaps,' he hoped, 'when he's a little calmer, he'll finally be ready to talk and tell me what's bothering him.' He held him even closer.
"Of course I'll stay. I'm not going anywhere; I'm right beside you. Everything's all right." Jack saw the other newsies were looking at the both of them from their bunks. He knew Crutchy would be embarrassed if he noticed all this attention, so he signaled to them to lay down again, which they did. For a long time, he just sat there, holding his shaking friend and trying to comfort him. When the sobbing finally stopped, he carefully asked, "Crutchy, won't you tell me what's bothering you? I'm your friend." He felt Crutchy stiffen and draw back a bit, obviously about to give a sharp answer. But then Crutchy's stomach rumbled, and a pained expression crossed the boy's face. Suddenly all parts of the puzzle fell into place for Jack: Crutchy's weakness, his absence at Tibby's, the fact that he'd only bought twenty newspapers in the morning. "Crutchy," he asked, shock in his voice, "When have you last eaten?" Crutchy turned his eyes away.
"Jack..." he began.
"Crutchy," Jack repeated in his best no-nonsense voice, "When have you last eaten? And I'm not talking about the piece of bread you get from the nuns in the morning, I'm talking about a real meal!" Crutchy still didn't look at him.
"Well..."
"Yes?"
"I guess about four or five days ago." Jack held his breath. How could that be?
'Why haven't I noticed earlier? Why the hell haven't I noticed earlier? What kind of a friend am I?' he thought. He looked at Crutchy again. His face seemed even paler in the moonlight, his whole body was skinny, even more so than usual, and he was still slightly shaking. Suddenly, Jack knew what to do.
"Get dressed," he ordered, his voice stern but at the same time full of worry.
"What?"
"Get dressed. Now!" Seeing the determined expression on Jack's face, Crutchy complied. Jack went over to his bunk and got dressed, too. Then he told Crutchy to come with him and left the bunkroom, the still confused Crutchy following close behind. Most of the other newsies had fallen asleep again long before, and if some of them saw them go, they didn't ask anyquestions.

The two boys slowly walked along the street. Jack saw that Crutchy was limping more than usual. He was still shaking and sometimes he nearly fell. Everything in Jack screamed out to help Crutchy. He wanted to support him, to carry him if necessary. But he knew Crutchy would never allow that. He was very sensitive about his bad leg. He needed to show the world he was able to get along on his own. Jack remembered the time he and Dave had tried to spring Crutchy from the Refuge during the strike. Crutchy had not been able to walk, and though Jack had offered to carry him, Crutchy had prefered to stay in the Refuge than allow him to do that. Jack knew if he tried to support Crutchy now, the boy might just turn around and leave, and he simply could not take this risk.
For a while they walked in silence, until Crutchy asked, "Where are we going, Jack?"
"The Jacobs'." Crutchy stopped abruptly.
"The Jacobs'? But it's the middle of the night!"
"I know that. As a matter of fact, that's exactly why we are going there. If you had said something earlier, I could have bought you a meal at Tibby's." The softness in his voice took the edge of the reproach in his words. Crutchy hung his head.
"But Jack, I don't want to trouble them. And I don't want to trouble you, either."
"Crutchy, you are not troubling me. What troubles me is to see my friend in a state like this, weak and depressed, without being able to help him. It's no trouble at all to be there for you." He put an arm around Crutchy's shoulders.
"Come on now. It's a cold night, and I don't want to stay out in the streets forever." His concern was more for his friend's weak health than for himself. They walked on, but after a few steps, Crutchy stopped again.
"Jack...," he began, shyly. "You know, I'm really quite weak and I don't think I can... Could you support me a bit? Please?" Jack was overwhelmed. He knew exactly what that request must have cost Crutchy.
"Sure," he hurried to reassure his friend. "No problem." Crutchy put an arm around his shoulders, leaning heavily on him. Slowly, they walked on till they reached the right house. Jack knew the fire escape was too steep for Crutchy in his present state, so he tried the front door. It was open.
'Sometimes even I have a bit of luck,' Jack thought relieved. Then he and Crutchy started to climb the steps to the Jacobs' apartement slowly.

As they stood before the door, Jack was about to knock, when he suddenly remembered all the Jacobs' problems David had told him about. He had been so worried about Crutchy all the way that he had completely forgotten about this.
'Oh no, I hope I'm not stumbling into the middle of a major family crisis here,' he thought. 'But Dave hasn't sent Les over; guess that's a good sign.' And after another look at Crutchy's weak and shaking form, he added, 'And I've got no choice anyway. He needs food and warmth NOW, I have to take the chance.' He noticed Crutchy's worried glance and smiled at him reassuringly, then he knocked.
First, he heard nothing. He knocked again, and this time there were muffled noises and slow steps coming towards the door. It opened slowly, and David stood there, wearing only pajames and looking with a surprised expression at the two boys.
"Jack? Crutchy?" Mrs. Jacobs joined her son at the door.
"Mrs. Jacobs, David," Jack begun, "I'm awfully sorry to disturb you at this time of night, but it's kind of an emergency. Mrs. Jacobs, this is my friend Crutchy. He is a newsie like me and..."
"You can tell me everything later, Jack, first the two of you come in! It's freezing out there!" She smiled kindly at both of them and let them in. Jack saw Les and Sarah standing in the room. They both looked confused. Jack gave Sarah a quick kiss and stroked Les' hair.
"Sit down," Mrs. Jacobs invited them. They did as they were told.
"So, Jack and ... Crutchy, isn't it?" she asked, smiling at the boy who still looked very embarrassed and uncomfortable.
"Yes Ma'm," he answered shyly.
"You said you had a problem?"
"Yes," Jack said. "You see, it's about Crutchy. He... he hasn't eaten anything real for about five days, and..."
"And he needs something now!" Mrs. Jacob interrupted. "You can tell me the rest later, but first I'll heat some soup and make a sandwich for your friend." She smiled at Crutchy "Anything special you'd like?"
"No, Ma'm, please don't bother."
"No bother, no bother at all! I'll be back in a minute," she said, already heading for the niche in which the Jacobs' hearth stood.
'A great woman,' Jack thought gratefully. 'I'm so glad she didn't ask any questions. I couldn't have answered them yet, and Crutchy would have felt very awkward having to explain whatever it is to a complete stranger.' He smiled in relief.
David, Les, and Sarah gathered round Crutchy and Jack. The small boy asked, "You really haven't eaten anything in days, Crutchy?" The worry in his voice mirrored the expressions on Dave's and Sarah's faces.
"No...not really."
"Why haven't you said anything?" David asked. "I could have invited you home or to Tibby's." "That's what I told him, Dave," Jack said. "But let him be now. He needs to eat and to rest. We'll talk about everything later." At these words, Crutchy ducked a bit. Jack put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him.
"Hey, I won't bite your head off or something. I just want to help you, nothing else. Okay?" "Okay," Crutchy said, and for the first time in days Jack saw the hint of a real smile on his face. He turned to David.
"Your father?" David smiled slightly.
"You were right, Jack. When we came home, he was up. He said he was awfully sorry and asked us to forgive him."
"He promised never to get drunk or shout at us again!" The happiness in Sarah's voice clearly showed.
"Drunk?" Crutchy asked, concerned. Though he knew about Mr. Jacobs' arm and his desperate search for a job, he didn't know about the last day's events.
"No need for worries, Crutchy," Les said happily. "Papa had some problems yesterday, but everything's all right now. Isn't it, Dave?"
"Yes, little brother, it is," David assured.
"Where is he now?" Jack asked.
"Sleeping. As I said, he's not used to drinking, and he has been tired all day. He went to bed early and is sleeping so deep right now that you could steal his bed and he wouldn't notice."
They laughed.
'Good,' Jack thought. 'The Jacobs' problems seem to be over, and I'm making big progress at helping Crutchy. Maybe everything turns out fine real soon.'
At this moment, Mrs. Jacobs was back with a hot plate of steaming soup and another one with a big sandwich. Jack had to suppress a chuckle as he saw Crutchy's eyes grow wide at the sight. Mrs. Jacobs smiled at the boy.
"Now, I hope you like it!" she said, indicating he should begin.
"Thank you," Crutchy said politely, before he dug into the plate. Jack smiled as he saw the joy in his friends face. It was so good to see that.

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