Morris had passed out about a minute into the stitching because of the pain. When he woke up, he was still lying on the bunk in the lodging house, looking up at the low ceiling about him. Dr. Skelton was putting some bandages over his stab wounds, his eyes tired and his shoulders slumped. Morris could barely move; the pain in his midsection was so terrible he thought he'd die just from that.

"You're awake... good," Dr. Skelton said with a dry smile. Morris didn't reply, instead glancing over to the table beside him. The wooden spoon he'd used earlier had long, deep grooves from him biting it. Morris stared at it in a sort of horrified awe. Had he even bitten it when he was unconscious? Grateful that he hadn't been awake to feel the pain, Morris sighed gently and turned his head.

"Your brother has been anxious to see you. The other boys were just barely able to keep him out of here. Do you want to rest, or would you prefer I let him see you?" Dr. Skelton said. Morris, suddenly filled with life after the mention of Oscar, nodded vigorously, accidentally making him jerk slightly. Morris muffled a groan as his hand flew to his aching stomach. Dr. Skelton smiled a little, his faint grey eyes filled with compassion behind his half moon glasses. He patted Morris' hand.

"I'll go get him. We'll just be a moment," he said reassuringly, and Morris relaxed as best as he could. As the Doctor left, Morris tried to sit up as best as he could, ignoring the shrieking pain that shot through him. He gritted his teeth and propped himself against the back of the bunk, exhaling shakily when he was finally in place. Morris waited, plucking at the wool blanket covering his legs impatiently. Any eighteen year old would be impatient when waiting for something, and Morris' situation only made his anxiety increase. When Dr. Skelton failed to return after what seemed like an eternity, Morris started to worry.

He stared at the closed door severing him and Oscar with contempt, gripping at the sheets beneath him and twisting them around his fists. He'd never been separated from his little brother for so long, unless Mr. Wiesel was punishing one of them. Morris' hands were starting to tremble and he resisted the urge to leap off the bed and run to the door, knowing he wouldn't get far before collapsing ripping his stitches open. So, he sat, waiting anxiously.

"Morris?" The door opened slightly and Oscar's timid call of his name caught Morris' attention instantly. His head snapped up and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, watching the door. Oscar opened it the rest of the way, revealing Jack and Race on either side of him and Oscar staring at him with wide eyes. After a moment of silence and staring, Morris smiled at his younger brother and held his arms out to him.

"Well? Are you goin' to just stand there, or are you gonna get ova here?" Morris said, and his smiled widened when Oscar beamed at him. Moments later, Morris found two strung arms flung around him, passionate but gentle, a face buried in the crook of his neck, and the sounds of sniffles in his ear. Morris returned his brother's cautious embrace, tugging at him slightly until he sat on the edge of the bed next to him. Oscar found himself blinking rapidly in an effort to stop himself from breaking down, and a huge grin was still plastered on his face.

"Don't eva, eva scare me like that again, y'hear?" Oscar mumbled into his brother's neck, smiling a little when Morris sighed and placed a hand on his back and rested his head on top of his. "Yeah, I hear ya. But hey, at least it was different this time, right? I didn't... I didn't get touched or nothin', at least..." Morris replied softly. Oscar's smile faded, but he nodded slightly and hugged his brother tighter, careful not to squeeze too tight.

"I'm so glad you's is okay. I-I... I ain't ready to be alone yet," Oscar admitted. Morris stiffened slightly and the hand he placed on Oscar's back clutched at his shirt slightly.

"Good, 'cause I ain't ready to leave yet."

The Delancey brothers had forgotten about the two other teens standing in the doorway, watching as the two of them hugged and whispered back and forth to each other. They didn't know that they'd hurt every word, and it upset them a lot more than it should have, considering who they were and what they'd done to the newsies. Jack and Race would never admit it, but as they watched Morris and Oscar, they both felt remorse unfurling in their chests. Jack pulled Race back into the other room, closing the door behind them quietly so the brothers could have their moment.

"What d'you think Morris meant by touched?" Race muttered uneasily almost as soon as the door closed. Jack glared at his friend in exasperation. "Oh, come on, Race. You ain't that stupid, are ya?" Jack snapped, shaking his head sighing. Race looked down at the ground and took off his cap, twisting it in his hands guiltily.

"What should we do? I mean, we gotta do somethin'. If what Oscar was sayin' earlier is true, and Morris has gone through somethin' like this like we heard him say, we can't just leave 'em be when Morris gets betta. Y'know what I mean?" Race continued, his cap now resembling a washing cloth. Jack looked up at his friend in consideration of his words, seeming to be speechless.

"I... I dunno. But you's right. We gotta do somethin." Race nodded before let out a shaky laugh, plopping his cap back on his head. "I neva thought this day would come. We's gonna help the Delanceys," Race sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. Jack's lips quirked up slightly, though there was no real humor in his smile. This was too serious to joke about.