Post by newwwwusername on Oct 14, 2023 20:20:37 GMT
Prompt : Brass Knuckles
Chronology : Post-canon
Crutchie could still remember the sting of brass knuckles slashing into his cheek. He knew all too well the feeling of heat radiating from the strike site so hard it felt like it would burn right off as blood dripped onto the concrete below.
His disability brought him sympathy and profit when he was on the job, but the world always found ways to remind him that he was, at the end of the day, an easy target.
It hardly mattered most of the time because the other Newsies were so protective of him, but none of that mattered in the thick of a riot.
When he'd been freed from the Refuge and Jack finally got a good look at him, the union leader was horrified to notice the new scar across the boy's cheek and vowed to never to let Crutchie get hurt like that again.
"I shoulda been there for ya" Jack lamented one evening as he and the disabled boy settled down in his 'penthouse'. Crutchie looked over and shrugged.
"I's alright. Them guys didn' kill me"
"The bar shouldn' be tha' low" Jack sighed. He looked over at Crutchie and his frown deepened as he saw the scar shimmer under the starlight. "They roughed you up good"
"Yeah..." Crutchie leaned back slightly, staring up at the stars. "I's got the brass knuckle treatmen'" he chuckled humorlessly. "An' the crutch makes a good weapon, apparen'ly"
"I'm so sorry, Crutch"
"No mo' apologizin', okay?" Crutchie shoved his brother playfully. Jack laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "I ain' in need o' no pity from Mr. Big Shot"
"Okay, okay"
Chronology : Post-canon
Crutchie could still remember the sting of brass knuckles slashing into his cheek. He knew all too well the feeling of heat radiating from the strike site so hard it felt like it would burn right off as blood dripped onto the concrete below.
His disability brought him sympathy and profit when he was on the job, but the world always found ways to remind him that he was, at the end of the day, an easy target.
It hardly mattered most of the time because the other Newsies were so protective of him, but none of that mattered in the thick of a riot.
When he'd been freed from the Refuge and Jack finally got a good look at him, the union leader was horrified to notice the new scar across the boy's cheek and vowed to never to let Crutchie get hurt like that again.
"I shoulda been there for ya" Jack lamented one evening as he and the disabled boy settled down in his 'penthouse'. Crutchie looked over and shrugged.
"I's alright. Them guys didn' kill me"
"The bar shouldn' be tha' low" Jack sighed. He looked over at Crutchie and his frown deepened as he saw the scar shimmer under the starlight. "They roughed you up good"
"Yeah..." Crutchie leaned back slightly, staring up at the stars. "I's got the brass knuckle treatmen'" he chuckled humorlessly. "An' the crutch makes a good weapon, apparen'ly"
"I'm so sorry, Crutch"
"No mo' apologizin', okay?" Crutchie shoved his brother playfully. Jack laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "I ain' in need o' no pity from Mr. Big Shot"
"Okay, okay"