Author's Note: Hello, hello, hello! Thanks for reading! Woo, this is a long one!

So, this story is inspired by the amazing story "Speaking Volumes (Without A Sound)" by ValAndMarcelle. If you haven't, I highly suggest you read that first. It's absolutely fantastic.

By the way, this story takes place when they're younger. I'd say Jack is around 11 or 12, and Crutchie should be about 9 or 10.

Also, just to warn you, I don't speak sign language. I googled most of the signs mentioned. Hopefully, I got it right!

That's pretty much all I've got to say! Thank you again for reading, and reviews are highly appreciated. I hope you enjoy!

Jack Kelly was a master of conversation. He had a way of striking a conversation with anyone about anything. It was this quality that made it so easy for him to make up a headline and convince anyone in his corner of Manhattan that it was true. It was this quality that allowed him to form a bond with every Newsie in the Lodging House in a snap, making him sure to be their leader someday. Jack had had countless conversations with every one of his Newsie brothers.

Every one, that is, until Crutchie.

Crutchie had arrived at the Lodging House discreetly. It seemed as if he'd just appeared one day, out of the blue. As the others boys argued and teased each other while getting ready for bed, Jack watched as Kloppman showed the newest Newsie to his bed.

The first thing Jack noticed about him was the crutch he used to walk over to his new bunk. Jack's first instinct was to wonder if he was faking it, as so many did to gain sympathy, but the older boy's eyes quickly trailed down to the younger one's leg, which was twisted in such a fashion that even the best actor in New York couldn't fake that. This kid's limp was certainly real, and Jack felt a pang of sympathy for him.

Though, Jack quickly realized that the new boy didn't need his sympathy. He smiled brightly with both his lips and his eyes as he sat down on his cot. He had quite the smile. That grin might just sell more papes than a limp ever could, Jack thought as he observed.

Kloppman held his hand up in the "okay?" motion. The boy nodded vigorously. He clearly hadn't seen a bed in a long time.

Jack kept watching the boy, waiting for him to get settled in and join the rest of the boys in their rough-housing. But, he never came. He just stayed on his bed, looking around at his new living quarters.

Suddenly, the boy's sharp green eyes locked with Jack's brown ones. After a brief moment, Jack raised his hand in a wave. "Hey," He greeted with a smirk.

The boy waved back, flashing Jack another stunning grin. Jack felt his own smile grow upon seeing it.

"Jack!" A voice called, breaking up the moment.

Jack sighed as Buttons emerged from the bathroom, looking distressed. "Specs lost his glasses," Buttons said. "We all think Race stole 'em."

"I didn't do it!" Race shouted, coming up behind Buttons. "Jack, knock some sense into these knuckleheads."

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," Jack chuckled, giving Race a doubtful look. But, he didn't leave without sending one more backwards glance at the boy sitting on his cot with smiling green eyes.

After they'd figured out where Specs' namesake was (suspiciously under Race's pillow. He claimed that they were planted there), Jack asked the question that had been bugging him for the past fifteen minutes. "Hey, does anyone know the new kid's name?"

Jojo shrugged. "We'se just been callin' him Crutchie. He hasn't said anythin' yet."

"Nothin'?" Jack asked in surprise.

Jojo nodded. "He could be mute."

Jack frowned. It wasn't unheard of for kids to arrive at the Lodging House mute, especially if they'd just gotten out of the Refuge, but it was pretty rare. Still, Jack was determined to at least try and have a conversation with the boy.

Jack strolled over to Crutchie's bunk and plopped himself down next to him. Crutchie seemed surprised, but he smiled again.

Jack smiled back. "Hey there, kid. It's Crutchie, I think?"

Crutchie didn't respond, but his smile faded. He bit his bottom lip, which made Jack's stomach sink.

"If you don't wanna be called Crutchie, that's fine," Jack continued. "That's just what I heard your name was. Anyway, my name's Jack. Jack Kelly." He grinned and held out his hand for Crutchie to shake.

Crutchie looked down at his feet, then back up at Jack with eyes that were no longer smiling. A blush climbed up his freckled cheeks as he rose his hand to his ear. He tapped his ear, then shook his head.

"What's wrong, kid?" Jack asked.

Crutchie repeated the motion, biting his lip again.

Suddenly, Jack got what he meant. Crutchie couldn't hear him.

Crutchie watched the look of realization cross Jack's face, a look he was very familiar with. He looked at Jack apologetically. He was never sure what to do at this part.

Jack wasn't sure what to do either. He certainly couldn't say anything, but wouldn't it be rude to just leave? So, he just stayed where he was, twiddling his thumbs.

After a moment, Crutchie pointed towards the bathroom and got up. He gave Jack a weak smile and hobbled off.

"Deaf?" Race asked after Jack had told them all the next morning.

"Yeah, you don't gotta say it so rudely," Jack grumbled.

"Well, it ain't like he can hear us," Race responded.

Jack shot him a glare. "Look, all I'se askin' is for you guys to be nice and welcomin', okay? He seems like a nice kid."

The boys all nodded as Jack approached Wiesel and bought his papes. He headed off to his usual selling spot, when he noticed Crutchie standing alone, shuffling through his papers. As one woman passed, he limped up to her as quickly as he could, holding the paper out and shaking it emphatically. The woman glanced at Crutchie, but walked past him.

Jack frowned. How on Earth was he supposed to sell papes if he couldn't hawk headlines?

Finally, Jack approached Crutchie, putting a hand on his shoulder. Crutchie looked up at him, and his eyes shone with confusion. He gave a polite smile, though. Jack patted Crutchie's shoulder and pointed at the woman he'd just tried to sell to. Then, he called, "Hey, Miss! Madame, come here!"

The woman turned around. "Are you talking to me?"

Jack grabbed Crutchie's hand and pulled him over to her. "Why, yes, I am. I just wanted to tell you that you'se is missin' out on a pretty great headline here from my buddy, Crutchie." Jack glanced at the paper in the younger boy's hand, skimmed the headline, and gave the woman a headline that was far-fetched from what was actually in the paper.

Nonetheless, the woman's interest was piqued. "That does sound interesting," She replied. She turned to Crutchie and pulled out a few coins.

Crutchie looked from Jack to the coins in her outstretched palm. Jack gave him an encouraging smile and motioned for him to take the coins. Then, the smile returned to Crutchie's eyes as he took the coins and handed her a pape, practically glowing.

As she walked away, Crutchie turned to Jack and raised his hand to his chin. He brought it out towards Jack quickly, smiling broadly.

Jack cocked his head, trying to ask Crutchie what he meant by that.

Crutchie shook his head and waved his hand, as if to say, "Never mind."

They carried on the rest of the day selling papes together, making sure the profits were evenly divided between the two of them. But, throughout the day, Jack couldn't shake the motion Crutchie had made from his mind.

"Hey, Kloppman. Kloppy. Kloppster the Lobster."

Kloppman sighed and turned to face Jack. "What is it?"

"I gotta question for ya," Jack said. "I'se been askin' everyone, but no one knows the answer."

"Is this that riddle about the rooster laying an egg on top of a barn, 'cause Mush already told me that one." Kloppman responded, sitting in a nearby armchair.

"No, no," Jack shook his head. "But, the answer to that one is: trick question. Roosters don't lay eggs."

"What's your question, Jack?" Kloppman asked with a slight grin.

"Okay," Jack rubbed his hands together. "What's this mean?" He took a deep breath and brought his hand up to his chin. Then, he brought it out towards Kloppman, just as Crutchie had done to him.

"That's 'thank you' in sign language," Kloppman answered, just as Jack had been preparing himself for another "I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Wait, what?" Jack asked, feeling excitement bubble up inside of him. "What's sign language?"

"It's, well, it's just what it sounds like," Kloppman replied, unsure how to describe it. "It's a language made up of hand motions."

"Woah," Jack was in awe. An excited grin spread across his face. "So, every word I'm sayin', there's a sign for it? I could say all of this with my hands, and someone who-who couldn't hear me would understand?"

"If they speak sign language," Kloppman assured with a nod. Then, he paused as a realization struck. "Is this about the new kid?"

Jack nodded. "He signed 'thank you' to me earlier today, and I wanted to know what it meant." Then, Jack gasped. "Hey, Kloppman, do you know sign language?"

"Not very much," Kloppman admitted. Jack deflated as he explained that he only knew a few phrases since he'd had a deaf uncle when he was younger.

"Well, do ya know where I could learn it?" Jack asked eagerly.

Kloppman shook his head. "I'm sorry, kid."

Jack frowned and muttered, "It's fine." Though, it certainly didn't feel fine.

Jack sat on his bunk in silence, letting his thoughts swim as he sketched a city that was almost too familiar to him. He hadn't gone to the roof tonight, since there was a rumor of rain, but the sky was still dry, so he decided that he would go up there eventually. Clay buildings formed on the page in front of him, and he felt a release with every pencil mark he made.

Suddenly, a cough from behind him interrupted the peaceful state he'd found himself in. Jack turned around to see Crutchie leaning on his crutch behind him. He looked embarrassed that Jack had noticed him, which made Jack wonder how long he'd been standing there. Crutchie gave a shy wave and a sideways smile, then began to turn around to leave Jack be. But, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack grin and pat the space next to him invitingly. Crutchie looked flattered as he made way over to the cot.

The two boys sat in silence next to each other, but this was different silence than the ones that had been between them before. It was a comfortable silence, which was occupied only by the scratching of Jack's pencil and Crutchie's even breathing. The younger boy looked over Jack's shoulder, his eyes dancing with fascination as a beautiful city formed on the page.

After he'd finished the outline, Jack pulled out his paints and began to fill the page with color. Brown, clay buildings, clean, green trees and a sky filled with fiery reds and oranges. Crutchie let out a small noise of wonder as he watched the sunset form on paper. "Oooh,"

Jack glanced over at Crutchie and felt a grin tug at his lips upon seeing the boy's expression. He was absolutely enamored in Jack's art, with his eyebrows raised ever so slightly above those expressive green orbs of his. He looked up at Jack and smiled excitedly, willing him to continue.

Jack chuckled and kept blending in pinks and yellows into the sky on his page. He sent a glance towards Crutchie every now and then, feeling his own smile widen every time he locked eyes with the younger boy.

After a while, Jack set his sketchpad down, feeling his eyes drooping. He could see Crutchie was getting tired, too. Those green eyes blinked over and over, struggling to stay open.

Jack looked out the window and decided something. It ain't gonna rain. He stood up, and held out his hand to Crutchie. Crutchie smirked and allowed Jack to pull him up.

Then, Jack led him up a flight of stairs, all the way to the top. Shooting Crutchie one last grin, Jack pushed open the door that was at the top of the steps, and led him out to his penthouse. Jack stepped up to the railing and held his hands out towards the city, as if he were presenting it. Crutchie stared at the view below them in wonder. A small, hoarse chuckle escaped his lips as he surveyed the city below them.

The two sat down in the pile of blankets and pillows that Jack had brought up there, and admired Manhattan. Jack was used to doing this alone, and as they both felt sleep slowly greet them, he decided that he quite liked having someone to share it with.

It was happening again.

Peace was never a word that could normally be used to describe Jack's nights. And, just like many nights before that, he found himself being plauged with visions of the Refuge, which seemed to be an odd twisting of memories and nightmares.

Jack sat up quickly, drenched in sweat and trembling all over. He shut his eyes tight, trying to block out the image of Snyder that kept reappearing in his head. He placed one hand on his skull and gripped it tightly, trying to focus on figuring out whether it was real or not.

Suddenly, Jack felt a hand on his own.

Jack looked down to see Crutchie had placed his hand on top of his, and for the first time since the nightmare, he realized he was awake.

He looked over at Crutchie, who's face wore an expression of concern. His brows were knitted together tightly and he frowned softly. But, when he saw that Jack had noticed him, his lips curled up into a calming smile.

Jack shook his head and shot Crutchie and apologetic look, feeling his cheeks heat up.

Crutchie locked eyes with Jack's fearful brown ones.

Now, Jack was used to comforting people after nightmares. He didn't sleep much, and all of the younger Newsies knew that it was almost guaranteed Jack would be awake to tell them that it was okay, that they were safe with him.

But, no words were needed for that message to get across to him. Crutchie's eyes told him just that.

As they sat there in the cold Manhattan night, with Crutchie's arm wrapped around Jack in safe-feeling hug, Jack raised a shaking hand to his chin and brought it out towards Crutchie.

The next day, Jack sold his papes in a rush, with only one thing on his mind. Once he got them all sold, he ran straight to the building he'd passed so often.

The bookstore.

He rushed in, knowing the sun would be setting soon. He ran up to the desk, and asked the bookkeeper, "Sir? Do you have any books about sign language?"

"That should be in the nonfiction section under 'A'," The man replied, eyeing the newsboy curiously.

"'A'?" Jack cocked his head. "You ain't tryin' to pull a fast one on me, right, Mister? Sign language starts with 'S'."

"For ASL," The bookkeeper said with a slight smile. "American Sign Language."

"Aha!" Jack grinned. "You learn somethin' new every day. Thanks, sir!"

With that, Jack ran off towards the "A's", and scanned the shelves for ASL. ASL, ASL, ASL.

Suddenly, his eyes landed on a book titled "The Complete Guide To ASL." Jack smiled and pulled out the book. He heaved it over to one of the wooden tables in the center of the room, and began to flip through countless pages of illustrated hands, with step-by-steps for each new sign. An overwhelming feeling washed over him as he looked at the endless signs. This was going to be a lot harder than he'd anticipated.

"Well," Jack sighed, running his hands through his hair. "I should learn my name first, I guess."

Jack scanned through it and found the alphabet. His eyes trailed from letter to letter.

J

He held out his pinky, and swooped it down in the shape of the letter J.

A

He clenched his fist. "Easy enough," He muttered.

C

He held his hand up in the shape of a "C", and felt himself grin.

K

He held up his fore-finger and his middle finger, then placed his thumb in between them.

"Jack," He whispered, running through the signs again.

The bookkeeper watched with interest as the boy repeated the motions over and over, all the way until dusk.

When night fell, Jack checked the price tag on the book. His face fell. He glanced at the bookkeeper and called, "Hey, I'll be back tomorrow. Can ya make sure no one takes this book?"

"I can't make any promises, kid," He said apologetically.

Jack frowned. "Well," He bit his lip. "I'll be back."

Soon, Jack fell into a routine. Get up, sell his papes with Crutchie, split the profits, then he was off to the bookstore, his hands flashing as he sat in the corner of the room. But, he didn't just practice in the bookstore. As he got ready in the morning, he signed at himself in the mirror, running through the words he could remember. As he sold his papes, he'd hold his hand behind his back, discreetly swooping his pinky in the shape of a "J." At almost anytime, at least one of Jack's hand was flying away, perfecting each new sign he learned.

One day, while he'd sat with his book in the corner, the bookkeeper watched in surprise as Jack stood up suddenly. "I got it!" He exclaimed.

The other patrons in the bookshop shushed him annoyedly.

"Ah, you shush," The bookkeeper muttered. "This is a bookshop, not a library."

"I got it!" Jack repeated, looking extremely proud.

"Got what?" The bookkeeper asked with a grin.

Jack ran up to him and let his hands fly through the phrase he'd been trying to master for at least a month.

The bookkeeper smiled. "I don't speak sign language, but that looks pretty good to me."

Jack faltered, a look of nervousness flashing in his brown eyes. "Is it good enough though?" He asked. "It's-it's for my friend, nah, my best friend." Jack frowned at himself. "He ain't that either. He's more of a-a brother, really."

"I bet he'll love it." The bookkeeper assured him gently.

Jack nodded. "Crutchie loves a lot of things."

The bookkeeper chuckled. "You've got this, kid."

Jack grinned. "Thanks." Then, he took a deep breath and headed out, still practicing the phrase as he walked back to the Lodging House. Quietly, he repeated to himself, "I got this."

When he got back, he immediately scanned the room for Crutchie. He spotted him in the corner of the room, playing jacks with Romeo. He walked up and tapped Crutchie's shoulder. "Do you mind if I take him for moment?" Jack asked Romeo.

Romeo obliged and Jack pointed to the roof. Crutchie nodded, and the two made their way up there.

It didn't take long for Crutchie to notice how uncharacteristically nervous Jack was. He began pacing around the roof as soon as they got up there. Crutchie cocked his head, as if to ask, "What's wrong?"

Jack stopped and locked eyes with Crutchie. He saw the smile in the bright, green eyes, and he suddenly felt a surge of courage. He took a deep breath, and signed,

"Hi. My name is Jack Kelly. Sorry, I ain't too good at this signing thing. I just wanted to say thank you. You're a real nice kid, and the best friend I've ever had."

Jack let out a big sigh when he'd finished. Slowly, he looked back at Crutchie.

Those eyes had done something Jack hadn't seen them do before. They'd filled up with tears.

"Are you okay?" Jack signed quickly, then felt his stomach flip as he'd felt he'd gotten the sign for "okay" wrong.

Crutchie blinked, and two tears spilled out as a the widest grin in all of Manhattan spread across his face. He hobbled up to Jack and wrapped his arms around him. Jack hugged him back, feeling a huge wave of relief.

They remained like that for a while. When Crutchie finally pulled back, still in tears, he raised his hand to his chin, and brought it out to Jack.

"Thank you."