A/N: This is the 8th story in my Crutchie and Jennie series, and the last multi-chapter one! The story takes place about a year and a half after the previous one. Faith is 4, and Crutchie and Jennie are both 27.
A brief warning, there is a funeral scene right at the beginning of this chapter, and mentions of death throughout the story itself. Nothing too terrible happens, but if you're bothered by either of those things then I would recommend skipping this story.
April 1911
It was raining. That was what Jennie focused on as she stood in the cemetery, soaked from head to toe. Crutchie stood just behind her, holding an umbrella over himself and Faith, who clung to his leg. He tried to hold it over Jennie too, but she moved just out of his reach each time until he eventually gave up.
Jennie liked the feeling of the rain. The cold wetness grounded her and made her feel safe, as did the feeling of Crutchie and Faith standing just behind her and Miriam standing next to her.
Sofia was in front of her. Or, more accurately, Sofia's grave was in front of her. Jennie read the words engraved on the small headstone, again and again, still just as unable to process them as she had been when the news of Sofia's death first reached her a week earlier.
Sofia Alessandra Rossi. 1889-1911.
Jennie still couldn't believe it. After the strike, Sofia had gone back to work at the Triangle Factory, believing that things would be at least slightly better for her and the other workers. Miriam, however, had decided to take a job at a smaller factory closer to her family's apartment. It had turned out to be one of the best decisions of her life, and one of the worst decisions of Sofia's.
Jennie suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Crutchie standing next to her. "Time to go, darlin'. It's over now." His voice was quiet and soft, and his eyes were full of sympathy.
Jennie nodded mutely, taking Faith's hand to ensure that the four-year-old girl didn't get lost. Crutchie once again held his umbrella over her head, and this time she didn't move away. The trio walked to the closest trolly stop in silence, each of them somehow understanding that there was nothing more to be said.
-Break-
The next morning Jennie woke to the sound of Crutchie and Faith in the kitchen, eating breakfast. She groaned and turned over in bed, intending to go right back to sleep, but the snippets of conversation she could hear made her rethink that decision.
"Come on, finish your breakfast an' then we can do something nice," Crutchie said.
"I ain't hungry!" Faith whined in response.
"Why not? What's the matter?"
"My throat hurts."
Jennie felt like groaning again when she heard that. If Faith had a sore throat it meant she was likely getting sick, and Jennie knew from experience that that meant Crutchie would soon get sick as well and she'd be forced to look after both of them at the same time.
Slowly sitting up, Jennie got out of bed and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. She didn't feel like doing much of anything, but she wasn't about to leave Crutchie to take care of a sick toddler by himself.
"Oh, mornin'," Crutchie said when Jennie entered the kitchen. "You hear Faith?"
"Yes." Jennie leaned over Faith and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, frowning when she felt that it was warmer than usual. "She's definitely running a temperature."
"Great." Crutchie also knew just as well as Jennie what the next few days would look like. "You want I should call Davey? Ask him to have a look at her?"
"I don't think it's that serious. Probably just the flu." Jennie smiled sympathetically at Faith. "You don't feel well, honey?"
"No." Faith shook her head, then reached her chubby arms towards Jennie.
Jennie picked Faith up, cradling her head against her chest and swaying back and forth gently. "Tell you what. Papa will tuck you in, and then I'll be in to read you a story, alright? Any story you want."
"Want Papa to tell me the newsie story," Faith mumbled sleepily, Jennie's movements soothing her.
Jennie looked over at Crutchie apologetically. So much for avoiding contagion.
Crutchie grinned at Faith. "'Course I'll do that, darlin'. Anythin' for you."
-Break-
About an hour later Crutchie exited the bedroom and sat down at the kitchen table with a grunt. Jennie was in the parlor staring out the window, lost in thought, but she looked over when she heard him. "How is she?"
"Asleep, for now," Crutchie replied. He smiled reassuringly at Jennie. "I feel fine, just so you know."
"You feel fine now. But experience has taught me that that usually doesn't last." Jennie slowly stood up and walked over to Crutchie, kissing him on the forehead in much the same way that she had done with Faith. "No fever yet. That's good."
"Yeah." Crutchie looked across the room and sighed softly.
Jennie frowned. "What's wrong?"
"Just… there's somethin' about Faith. How she's actin'. More subdued than normal. You know her, even when she's sick she talks a mile a minute." Crutchie shook his head. "Sorry. Ignore me, I'se probably just overreactin'."
"No. If you think something's wrong, I'll ask Davey to come and take a look at her. I have to go and get some groceries this afternoon anyway," Jennie said. "Will you be alright with her for an hour or two?"
"Yeah, that's fine." Crutchie nodded. He looked up at Jennie tenderly and stroked her cheek gently. "You don't gotta worry."
Jennie leaned down and kissed Crutchie again, this time on the lips. "I'll always worry about you, you leathcheann. Always."
A/N: The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire occurred on March 25th, 1911. 146 garment workers died in the fire (123 women and 23 men). It is one of the deadliest industrial disasters in United States history.
If you recall from the previous story, Jennie worked at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory for a time. Sofia was one of her friends.
Davey is a doctor, in case that wasn't clear. He graduated from medical school in the summer of 1909. He will appear more in the next few chapters.
Feel free to let me know what you thought of this chapter! It's been a while since I wrote and originally posted it to my AO3 account, so I'm eager to hear any and all feedback.