Dreams Change

Chapter 12

Haha so I lied. This chapter has another song in it, but she doesn't sing the whole song, just the chorus but I'm still going to put the song in because it's amazing. It's called Welcome Home from Bandstand the Musical. And guys, Corey Cott is in Bandstand!!! Perfect for a Newsies fanfiction ahaha. Okay I'll be done boring y'all. 

I woke up with a start and jerked forward. A hand shot out, wrapping around my waist to keep me down.

"Careful there," the voice belonging to the hand said. "Wouldn't want ya getting any more hurt than ya are." I turned my head to catch a glimpse of the boy sitting behind me.

"Name's Peter." I opened my mouth to reply likewise, but he cut me off. "Caz. Your friend over there told us." I glanced in the direction he had gestured and gasped. Crutchie was curled up on a bed, covered in cuts and bruises, his limp leg looking like a mangle of disfigured flesh and bone. He was asleep, but his face was contorted into a frozen expression of pain. 

I went to stand up and go over to him, but my legs gave way beneath me and my head began to throb. I moaned as I pressed my hands to my head.

"What happened?" I directed the question to Peter

"They hauled yous in 'ere and then dragged you off one at a time. You went first. Came back and all of us thought you wouldn't make it. Ya looked awful. We took care of most of the cuts and bruises as best we could, but couldn't do anything for ya head. Then they took 'im. Should have seen him after they were done."

"How many days have we been here?" My gaze trailed Crutchie's beaten body. My insides were swirling, and I was sure I would throw up.

"So far, just two. Ya lucky you've been out for most of it. Ya friend has had an awful hard time. Yous had some friends stop by. Jojo and Specs, Is think." I gave a nod, looking down. 

"Can you help me over ta him?" I asked.

"Sure thing," Peter said, standing. That was when I got a good look at him. He was tall, probably about Davey's height, with sandy blond hair that was filled with dirt and grime. His clothes, if you could call them that, were torn and hanging off him. And he was so thin. I could almost see his bones.

"Stop looking at me like that. If yous stay in here as long as I 'ave, you'd be looking da same way."

"How long have you been here?" He slipped his arm under my shoulder and heaved me off the ground. For someone so thin, he sure was strong.

"A year and a half."

"What? And you haven't tired to escape?"

"Sure, at the beginning. Once a day. But then I would look at the faces of the younger kids, the starved looks, the horror filled expressions as the Delancey's would come in for another kid, the fear of wondering if they would survive the next day, and I realized that they needed me. I ain't got no family, no one to live for, so I stay." My heart broke as I listened to the descriptions that Peter spelled out.

"Oh," was all I could think to say. "How old are you?"

"Eighteen in three weeks."

"What are ya gonna do when they kick ya out?"

"Do everything in my power to shut down this place and get these kids a safe place to live. Most of dem are orphans." He set me down beside my friend just as a younger boy ran up to us.

"Peter!" he cried. "The Delancey's got Maggie!"

"Hey hey, Tommy, calm down," the older boy said, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "You stay here with Caz and I'll get 'er, okay? I need you to stay though." The boy hesitantly nodded and Peter ran out of the room. The boy turned to me, tears rolling down his face.