Newsies One Shots

Him - Morris/Crutchie (Part one)

Prompt - None
Au - Soulmates
Triggers - Swearing, implied abuse/homophobia, blood detail
-Requested on Amino-
•••

Morris was tired.

Of what exactly, he couldn't really say. Well, no, that wasn't true. He didn't want to say.

He told himself it was the regular looks that said 'poor bastard', the ones filled with pity or encouragement or both. It was the constant comments, the "You'll find her soon, I just know it" and the "Shes out there somewhere".

He told himself that. That it was the words and looks, the glances and the encouragement he didn't want. Morris knew though, deep down, that it wasn't that. It wasn't any of that.

It was that word. That one word that kept cropping up. That one word he hated. That one word he hated almost as much as the alternative.

Her. His soulmate.

The truth was, he didn't want to find his soulmate. He knew that when he did, it wouldn't be happy. There would be no proud and excited words. No congratulations. No smiles and laughs, not that there were many anyways.

No, he knew, there would only be disappointment. Only scorn. Only disgust. Only anger.

Only pain.

So he kept himself distanced from others, avoided touching people as much as he could directly, fearing that black mark that would show on his skin, showing he had found his soulmate. This earned him strange looks and confused questions but he avoided them. Most soulmates found each other when they were young, 13 or 14 and anyone older attracted pity. It was annoying but he could deal with it most of the time.

The day had started like any other and all thoughts of his soulmate had been pushed to the back of his mind. Morris had gotten a crappy nights sleep and he was exhausted and irritated and spoiling for a fight. Walking alongside Oscar and stifling a yawn he glared at anyone who looked at him for to long, especially at the few girls who appeared his age.

The streets were filling up as they made it to the circulation gates. Morris glared at the newsies when they pulled them open but stayed quiet, although he really wanted to hit one of them.

He smirked when Oscar shoved one of them, the obnoxious one with the cigar. Still itching for a fight and in a bad mood, Morris took a step forward, addressing the shorter one with the limp.

"You want some of that too, you lousy crip," he grabbed the boys crutch, shoving him down and hitting his hand as he did. And then he froze, blocking out the angry and indignant yells of the rest of the stupid newsies. He kept staring at his hand, an ice forming in his stomach and creeping through his limbs.

He was so distracted that he was startled when Jack Kelly appeared in front of him. "Now that is not nice Morris," he said, "How would you like us picking on you,"

Morris quickly shoved his hand into his pocket and schooled his face, glaring at Jack with a sneer he didn't feel. He didn't react when Jack knocked his feet out from under him and he didn't really care. The next few minutes passed in a blur of pain and yells and running and then him and Oscar were alone.

"Little bastards," Oscar growled rubbing his head. He looked at Morris. "You alright?"

Morons shook his head. "Hmm? Yeah I'm...I'm ok,"