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Patch looked down at the thin line of light spilling forth from under the door, nodding his head at Ink silently. He held his finger over his lips and moved to the opposite side as her, putting his hand on the doorknob.

Please let Rainbow be okay, he thought. And after that short, unofficial prayer, Patch twisted the handle and threw the door open, bursting in with his hand in his jacket pocket, concealing the knife clutched at the ready in his hand. His eye fell upon Cash, poised above Rainbow with a gun to her head and the air left his body for a moment. It felt as if time slowed down, everything frozen and suspended before him, and then it sped back up into real time. He glared at his one-time friend with utter hatred and disgust.

“Let go of her.” he growled, the muscles in his jaw working as he stood frozen and tense before the criminal. “This has gone far enough.”

With a gun to the kid’s head, Patch’s options were limited. He had been ready to burst in and just knife the sick son of a bitch and get it over with. This created more problems. Any sudden move they made might set him off, and he might shoot Rainbow. Patch’s good eye flickered over to Ink and then immediately over to Cash again. What were they going to do?

He hoped Ink had plan up her sleeve, or at least enough feminine wiles to get the child out from under Cash’s grasping fingers.

Cash grinned, amusement filling his dark eyes. He saw this all as a game. They thought they had won the game but he had. He'd won it just like everything else. "You get the fuck out of here," He said to them, a broad smile still on his face as he used his free hand to rub the child's face. "She ain't any better out there on the streets than she is with me," He said as he pulled the gun slightly away from the small head and moved it towards the two small legs that were on the floor. With a quick glance down, he pulled the trigger watching the speeding bullet hit the child's right foot.

Laughing out loud, he sighed and then pulled the gun back to the child's head. His black eyes returned to Ink and Patch. Cash could smell the blood from the child's foot and her cries became more louder as she begged for her release but Cash had no plan on that. Torturing was the best thing to do before killing her off right infront of their eyes.

Rainbow's eyes were shut tight as she was dropped to the floor by the man. Her breathing was becoming heavy and she could feel her fragile body being hit and slapped. Even with her eyes shut, tears managed to escape and stream down her dirty face.

She could now hear footsteps and was sure that Cash had heard them to because she was pinned to the floor and felt a cold and hard metal object, the gun, placed against her head. She was crying now, very quietly as to not be killed by making him angry. The footsteps got louder as she her the clink of the door opening and the voice of Patch. Earlier today she would've rolled her eyes at the sound of his voice but now she needed to hear it, she wanted to hear it. The man began to speak although it was all a blur to Rainbow. She was too horrified to process was going on and then she felt an extreme pain to her right foot. Squealing in horror, she reached to get up and grab the foot but his large hand held her down. She knew she was bleeding and the pain was being to fade away in numbness.

"Help," She said in a bare whisper, keeping her eyes closed as tightly as possible.

As the door opened, Ink was stuck in a horror-stricken face. Her teeth clenched onto the razor until she thought she would shatter it. But she didn't, she kept her teeth and tongue worked against the razor to keep it hidden. As the gun shot went off, the razor slipped back, flat against her tongue. She couldn't swallow it, that was it. Shonda had taught her this back when she first was a dancer, she couldn't dare forget.

"Stop Cash." She emphasized herself to sound more Americana, stepping forward.

"I'll give you myself, forever and ever. I'll never argue. Beat me, kill me, rape me, I don't care. Leave her alone, please." She whispered. Her tongue pressed the razor against the top of her mouth so she could inhale and swallow safely. She sighed, stepping forward, reaching a hand to his arm, stroking it gently.

"Please Cash. I'll be everything you'd ever want. I'm a woman, not a child. Let Rainbow go."

She closed in a bit, stepping forward, but slowly, holding her hands up to show she had no weapon.

"Or both of us. I want to be hear for her, but don't hurt her anymore, please. Hurt me. I beg you." She whispered. Her lips sealed, and she grasped her shirt, pulling it off. Beneath was a black and pink bra, lacy and show-time styled. She was embarrassed, especially in front of the child, but she would have to do this.

Ink held her hands out, moving the razor to the back of her mouth again.

"Take me. I'm defenseless." She whispered. Ink shut her lips again, sliding the razor back at her teeth.

If she could get him to take her, to try and attack her, or at get near her enough- she would give him the kiss of death. She would assure to jut the razor into his throat, and murder him from the inside out.

[ This is going to be my last post as Cash. I'll create a new player tonight or tomorrow so you can kill me off now. ]

Cash's eyes danced in amusement as he stroked the child's voice. He nodded to Ink and turned to Patch. "He leaves and she won't die," He said, referring to Rainbow. He knew he would get what he wanted, he always did. Now he would have an older one and the child so when he was done with the young one and killed her off he'd still have Ink.

Cash stood up, dragging the child by her arm and motioned for Ink to come to the bed where he had dropped Rainbow. Shoving the child to the side of the bed, gun lying next to her incase, he gently touched the lace of Ink's bra before leaning in to kiss the beautiful woman.

Ink turned to Patch, nodding once- a stern and grave look flitting through her eyes. It almost seemed as if they were darkening- growing wicked with the ready will to kill the man.

She turned to him, stepping closer to him as he yanked Rainbow to the bed. Her breath was ragged for a second, but she stopped and took another deep breath. She had to ready herself. She couldn't mess up. For the child. For Patch. For herself.

She slid the razor between her teeth, concealing it. As he came closer, his hand drew up over her breast, stroking the lace of her bra. Xhana smiled softly, a bit nervously, stroking her fingers along his arm. Her hands crawled up to his neck, gentle and unrelentingly seductive as they slowly danced around the back of his neck. He was leaning in.

Ink leaned forward, pressing her body to Cash's. She wrapped her other arm around his side, moving her hand up his back until she moved it to settle on his cheek. Her eyes fell into a hard lulled state, barely opened. Dark hair swept over her shoulders, falling barely over her breasts and back. Her upper body was a colorful painting, her stomach showing Fenrir, and her breasts depicting two beautiful Valkyries.

Her lips mashed to his, and she tried to relax. But it had been years since she had kissed a man, and even then, it wasn't like this. The man, Ray, had wanted her, but he denied himself from her. Then, she was young. And it was wrong. The man was grown with kids, and she was a juvenile teen.

His lips were hard. Hungry. Desperately controlling. She closed her eyes, her lips already sore from the sheer power and force of Cash. Ink took a breath in from her nostrils, then slowly exhaled, parting her lips against his. His own opened, his tongue hungry to lap at her own. Bad. She had not thought of him making the first move once their mouths were locked together. She slipped the razor onto her tongue, and breathed out over his lips, pressing against him harder, her lips pressing his open again. Her tongue flicked into his mouth, bottom of it touching his in a motion to make him feel secure. In seconds though, the situation changed.

Ink gripped his hair hard, and her hand on his cheek was now clenching his jaw. She slipped her tongue back, and forth. Like a paddle swaying through a sea-storm. The razor slipped from her tongue, and she pushed it into the back of his mouth. The struggle began. Ink yanked his hair hard until his head slipped back, and she ripped her lips away from his, a scowl on her face. She took her hand from his jaw, and gripped his throat, nails digging in as blood began to sputter from the coughing man's throat. The sight frightened her, and she wished she could finally forget. Everything this time.

She felt his hands clawing at her body, fierce grip bruising her. Persistence- it would save her. His blunt talon like nails seemed to cut at her chest, his hands lurching for her throat. But moments later, his struggle began to fade.

The body of Cash struck the floor, blood pooling from his mouth, flowing to the floor in a masquerade of red.

Ink stepped back, rubbing her lips furiously and sobbing quietly, tears falling from her cheeks. She had killed a man. But it was a good thing. She had killed a rapist, and an abusive bastard.
It was good. She had done good.

Her knees felt weak, her stomach ready to expel its contents.

She turned to Rainbow, and touched her cheek.

"We're taking you to the hospital." She whispered, looking back at Patch through watery red eyes.

Patch heard Cash’s conditions and sharply nodded his head, mute, but didn’t leave the room. Instead, he merely took a few steps backward, melting into the shadows till he nearly disappeared. It was good enough. Ink was weaving a spell over him and all he saw was her. The sight of a lacy black bra and contrastingly colorful tattoos sent Patch’s eyes to the floor, but he quickly looked back up again, entranced and sickened at the same time; knowing what was about to come.

Cash, the sick son of a bitch, walked right into it, so blinded by his own insatiable lust that he didn’t notice the way the woman before him kept subtly shifting an object around in her mouth. The two began to kiss, Cash’s hands touching her body possessively, her hands sensuously at his cheek. And as quickly as it hard started it had already begun to end. Cash took a stumbling step backward, choking on the razor and his own blood, and then fell to the ground with a hard, dull crash, blood pooling out of his mouth to the floor below.

Patch rushed forward, about to embrace Ink, but stopped short, arms held awkwardly aloft. Instead, he just put a hand on her shoulder, clapping her on the back. “Good job.” he murmured, and then stepped away from her. He kicked Cash’s lifeless body and then stooped to pick up his too-thick wallet, slipping it into the pocket of his worn jacket, next to his copy of Utopia.

“Pray for me, as I will for thee, that we may merrily meet in heaven.” he said, quoting the book as he closed his friends eyes. The years had not been kind to Cash; but then, Cash had not been kind to the world.

Patch crossed the room, walking to the side of the bed where he scooped Rainbow into his arms, lifting her thin arms around his neck, cradling her close. He nodded at Ink. “Let’s go.”

"Let's." Ink said, the warmth of Patch's hands lingering against her back like an guardian angel's touch. She turned and moved out of the door with Patch, who held Rainbow carefully in his arms.

Beside Patch she walked, holding Rainbow's hand in her own much larger more feminine hand. She felt horrid. It was all her fault. If she had not forgotten, then nothing would've happened. The taste of Cash- being a filthy taste of mint and ashes- lingered in her mouth. On her tongue, on her lips. She wanted to clean out her mouth with a toilet brush- if that was what it took to get him out of her. Out of her mouth. His taste should die when he did. But that filthy man's hands and his kiss would never leave her.

Her mind was wrecking itself in her head. In her silence.

Ink walked alongside the man and child quietly, until the bright tall beige and white length of the hospital sprouted into view. The glowing white letters and red cross symbol was a comfort. Rainbow needed help. It didn't matter what the doctors said, they had plenty of money. Cash's money. Money that would be enough for Rainbow to get a nice check-up and a stitch and fix-up for the bullet wound in her foot. What was left would be saved. Saved for the kids, and maybe a little for Ink's problem. In her mind, in her priorities, she had shifted to the bottom of the list.

Though she was cold. Her bra didn't cover much, although she was glad to say that the colorful tattoos made it seem as though she were wearing a thin skin-tight tube top when her arms covered the lacy bra. She was cold- shivering with goose bumps rising on her skin. Her hair fell around her tilted-down head, and she could see her breath before her. Every tear that silently fell, every stream that dried to her face, was cold as ice. Every breeze made her body rupture into tiny shivers, and she felt herself hating herself. In tiny brown shorts and a bra, and her shoes. Nothing else but her tattoos to cover her. How come she could dance on a stage like this, but being beside Patch and the girl in this form was all but suicidal a thing for her to do?

As they entered the hospital, EMTs- who were lounging against the counter- raced to take the girl from Patch, taking her to the ER. Ink was given a baggy white t-shirt from the donation department, and told to sit in the waiting room with Patch for a while until the bullet was cleanly removed.

She strolled somewhat disoriented towards a wooden chair with blue cushions. It was a love seat, and she curled onto one side of it- pulling her knees against her chest and pulling the white shirt over her legs. She buried her face down in the white fabric and sighed.

There was a long night ahead.

A longer life to live.

Would she even make it anymore?

Patch reluctantly let the child be taken from his arms and taken by the nurses that swarmed them. He joined Ink on the loveseat, collapsing on the other side of it with a weary sigh, scrubbing a hand across his face. He glanced over at her and shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her. His arms underneath were a light tan color, a shade lighter than his face, sinewy yet strong, laced with scars and minor burns. He handed the jacket to her.

“Here, you look cold. And white’s not really your color, Toots.” he said with a smirk, putting the article of clothing in her lap. A woman in a brown skirt set and glasses hurried over to them, a disapproving, flustered look on her face. She was middle aged and slightly overweight, her brown hair piled atop her head with a pen jabbed through it. A clip board was in her hands.

“You.” she said, pointing a finger at the two of them. “Are you that child’s parents?”

Patch looked at Ink and then back at the woman. “Umm… Yes?” he said, unsure. The woman scowled.

“I ought to have child protective services on you, bringing in a child with a bullet wound. How irresponsible can you be?” she asked angrily. Patch’s eyebrows shot together.

“Hey, hey, hey. Back up there! It’s not like we shot her! We got mugged! ‘Sides, look at… my wife!” he filled in, deciding that if he had to pretend to be Rainbow’s parent, he might as well not do it half way. Ink had just unofficially become a Mrs.

“She had the clothes stolen right off her back! We took the kid in as soon as we got away from that sick son of a bitch.”

She inhaled sharply. “Language, Mr…”

“More.” filled in Patch with a smirk. “Thomas More.”

The woman regarded him shrewdly, as if trying to suss out whether that was his real name or not. Reluctantly she handed him the clip board. “I need you to fill this out.” she instructed him, and then paused. “You two seem awfully young to have a ten year old child…” she said, eyes scanning Ink with a frown and then shuddering as she focused on the patch covering the young man's eye. Patch shrugged.

“Eh, the kid keeps us young. We’re older than we look. And uh, we got an early start.” he said with a grin, throwing his arm around Ink’s shoulders and pulling her toward him, leaving a loud kiss on her cheek. He smiled up at the woman in the suit, yanking the clipboard away from her. “Anything else?” he asked.

The woman glared at him and turned sharply on her heel, shoes clacking on the tile as she strode down the hall in the opposite direction. Patch looked at the clipboard, eyes trailing across the letters and words. It was all just a nonsensical, jumbled mess to him. He handed it over to Ink, the pen swinging below it hanging from a small chain. “Erm, here. Why don’t you fill it out?” he asked.

A woman had approached, and Ink just barely lifted her eyes. She had felt the warmth of Patch's jacket around her arms, and of course she had shot a simplistic glance over towards him. He was handsome- more-so when in direct light. He had a wise nurturing side- whether he would admit it or not. Ink would remember that, to use against him later.

She began talking to Patch, and he just improvised everything he said. As he pulled Ink closer, she rested her head back so that he could kiss her cheek, before tiredly resting her head on his shoulder.

Soon, the woman left and Patch handed her the clipboard to fill out.

Ink leaned back, pushing out of the jacket for a moment and stretching her long limber caramel arms out of the white t-shirt. She began writing simple little things- her left handedness writing a neat and beautiful cursive. She was careful, and slow though. Ink wanted to spit a curse at Patch, for making her do such a thing. Fool, did he not know that she wasn't good with American symbols and even the language was beginning to slip away from her.

She had to make up a name for Rainbow.

Rainbow...

Katie More.

She was Xhana More. Her husband... Thomas More. Insurance: none. Child's age... Ten? Yeah, ten... Other problems: none known of. Doctor: none.

Ink puckered her lips- her thin black brows knitting together.

"We're horrible parents." She whispered, shaking her head and turning the sheet over, sliding the pen back into the metal clip of the clipboard. She stood up- her long bronzed legs (brazed with tattoos of beautiful swirling designs down her outer legs) sprouting from the over-sized white shirt.

She handed the clipboard back to a woman at the desk, giving a simple nod as she offered her some portion of her pity- or something like it. Ink didn't want it. What had happened had happened, and she was only left to remember it.

Her body soon settled back beside Patch, her legs pulled up and her entirety better facing him. She pushed her hands back through her hair to conduct the smooth black hair and copper streaks over her shoulders and behind her back. Her strongly angled and exotic features seemed so much stranger, and more cherubic yet sorrowful, when she was down like this. Her eyes were lighter, eyes marked with a few stress lines on the corners. They burned from the cold tears. But she couldn't help but cry. She just killed a man. A sick sadistic man.

Ink looked up at Patch, sighing.

"Thomas More. Well, you have a nice Americana name." Her grin widened for a second, eyes befalling her feet- no longer in her shoes but hanging off the seat. On her left foot was a blue and black nautical star, swished with a swirl that when placed next to the almost mimicking design on her right foot, made a blue Coy fish with light blue water swished around it.

Ink looked back up, to the bright light.

"I'm sorry... It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't... It all... It was my fault..."

Ink stood to go return the filled out information to the nurse at the front desk and Patch watched her long, naturally tan legs as she walked away, one eyebrow quirked and a slight grin on his face as he followed the sway of her hips. When she came back he quickly looked away, an innocent expression on his face, if such a thing was possible for the young man with an eye patch. It lent him a menacing appearance, but he didn’t think that was so bad. It made people on the street move out of his way, give him less shit. Everything had it’s ups and downs.

“Nah, I think we’re good parents.” he disagreed, spreading his arms across the back of the seat they shared, resting his head against the wall, the fingers of one hand playing with her hair. “I mean, look at her. She ain’t on drugs, no thanks to Jewels, she ain’t pregnant, no thanks to that sick son of a bitch, and she ain’t dead, thanks to you. We’ve done okay considering the circumstances.”

He winked. “But she don’t look a thing like me. I think you must’ve had an affair.”

She said his name and he let out a long sigh. “No, it’s European actually, after the writer and the saint.” he told her. He reached over, slipping his hand into her jacket. The action might’ve seemed slightly indecent and obscene for the middle of the hospital waiting room, but he made no funny moves, just pulled the thick, worn book from the pocket on the inside. He held it up so she could see and then flipped it open at random, pretending to read.

"If you do not find a remedy to these evils, it is a vain thing to boast of your severity in punishing theft, which though it may have the appearance of justice, yet in itself is neither just nor convenient." He quoted with a grin.

He put a hand on her knee with a miniscule though sincere smile. “Hey, cheer up. You saved that kid’s life. And what happened wasn’t your fault. It was Cash’s fault entirely. Although, I’m not feeling too friendly toward our ‘daughter’ for just runnin’ off without tellin' no one.”

"Yeah." Ink said, having his hand on her knee creating a warm static heat. It was strange. The men that touched her were a lot like Cash. They wanted what she didn't not give. Their hands were greedy to touch and rub and caress everything about her, but Patch's touch was different. Subtle and gentle. Sometimes playful. Every now and then she didn't feel too comfortable, but that was because of the many circumstances she had been in.

After tonight, she felt like she wanted to either curl up against someone she trusted, or she wanted to be devoid of people by a good fifty yard radius. Either way, she still wasn't going to decide. She was probably only going to get these faint little 'supposedly' comforting touches from Patch. Along with his toying in her hair. That was kind of soothing. Ray used to stroke her hair in the morning. She use to lean against him in the reclining chair and he would stroke his fingers through her hair to get rid of tangles. He would brush it sometimes first, then comb his fingers into it. Either way, it had always soothed her.

In all, she laid her head back against the back of the chair and wall, listening to Patch's genuine voice speak comforting bits to her.

"I guess Rainbow shouldn't've ran off like that." Ink whispered. Her English seemed a bit better when she was quiet, and took her time to speak. When she was calm and somewhat at an empty fork in the road, like now. She put her hand over Patch's as a lady began to approach.

"I just wish I could remember her completely. I still only remember a faint little bit about her." She whispered. Her eyes fell down. "My memory's not coming back too good this time." She whispered. "Each time, it takes longer and longer to remember... I just... I wish I had someone to-"

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. More?" A nurse smiled.

Ink shot her head up, and nodded, leaning away from the wall.

"You may go in. I think your daughter may be asleep, but she might've waken up by now." The nurse said softly, showing them into the hall where the ER rooms were.
"This one." She pointed to Exam Room 13.

Ink looked back, having expected Patch to follow, and turned back for the room. She pushed open the door, and slid inside, moving her fingers into the curtain so that she could push it aside and see the child.

Rainbow was lifted from the bed, her blue eyes were still closed tightly. She knew that it was now Patch holding her because his touch was much less agressive but she was still traumatized. Her eyes became to hold themselves down as she drifted into a light sleep..

Rainbow woke up in a hospital room. She could feel a minor pain in her foot but not as bad as when she was in Cash's house. As her eyes slowly opened, she looked around at her surroundings. The hospital room was white with cartoon characters on the walls, obviously a room in the children examination wing of the hospital. She was lying on a clean bed, the first bed she'd been in in three weeks, with her bad foot propped up at the end of it.

A nurse walked over to Rainbow when she noticed her wake up. The woman was short with caramel colored wavy hair. She had light brown hair and rosy cheeks, reminding Rainbow of her mom. "How does your foot feel, Katie?" The woman asked, a smile forming as she looked at Rainbow.

"Okay.." Rainbow responded as her eyes flashed from her foot towards the woman. Katie? Her real name was Katherine but very few people called her Katie.

The woman smiled once more and handed her a red lollipop and a sticker. "Call me in if you need anything at all. Your mom and dad will be in here shortly," She said as she walked out the door. Her mom and dad? How did they find out..?

The small hand unwrapped the candy before shoving it into her mouth. Ink and Patch then appeared and a large smile formed on Rainbow's bruised face. "Look what they got here!" She said as she pulled the lollipop out of her mouth.

The expression on Patch’s face tightened as he walked in and caught sight of the small, malnourished child with a heavily bandaged foot, sucking happily on a lollipop. His good eye fell to the floor, taking in a slow, deep breath. Making sure that no one was around to hear him, he sat on the foot of her bed away from her injury.

“Rainbow… Getting a sucker wouldn’t be such a big deal if you’d go back home to your parents.” he said finally, expression troubled. The streets were no place for a kid- he should know. “Why don’t me and Ink take you out for some ice cream, then we can all get on the bus together and take you back home.”

He looked at Ink wearily, hoping to get her support. He’d been meaning to have this talk with Rainbow since she’d gotten there, but had never found a good time to broach the subject. Now seemed like a good time to give up her game and go back though. She was hurt and her injury was bound to get infected if she stayed with them. They had no way to look after her the way she needed, no means to keep her clean and full.

“I’m sure your mom and dad really miss you. Don’t you want to see them again?” he asked. Him and Ink weren’t cut out to watch out for Rainbow all the time. Ink was an exotic dancer, and Patch was a mugger/ drug dealer. Ink was right. They’d make horrible parents. Besides, they were both hardly more than kids themselves, physically at least. Both had to grow up fast and mature. They’d had no choice… but that didn’t make them qualified to raise Rainbow.

He reached out and ruffled her hair with a smirk. “And I’m tired of you being around all the time. My stuff is starting to smell like a little girl.” he told her, trying to lighten the mood. “If you go, we’ll come and visit you.”

Ink smiled as Patch seemed to pass her, taking over the conversation. That was good. Ink didn't know what to say. In truth, she could barely remember the little girl named Rainbow. But that maternal feeling that seemed to sweep through the young woman at the sight of the girl in the hospital bed almost brought tears to her dark eyes.

Her ears were availed to the rich and now comforting sound of Patch's voice. He was so well spoken- not because of his words, but by the assurance in his voice. He was a good man. He put a lot of Ink's troubles at ease. Patch spoke this time about Rainbow going back to her parents. When he flicked his eyes to Xhana, she gave a simple nod, stepping closer- the white t-shirt like a toga made from a blanket around her lean curvaceous body.

"We love you Rainbow, and I do remember you. But times are hard, and if we don't let you go to a place where you'll have a roof, a bed, and food, you're only going to end up sick and back here. Patch and I don't want you to get sick. We've already failed to protect you. We just barely... barely... made Catch disappear." Her body seemed to slowly coil into a tense position, eyes hitting the floor.

"But we're safe." She whispered. Her accent was slowly beginning to afflict her words again like a crystal sheet of ice over a mirror.

Ink stepped closer, stroking her hair.

"Patch and I could go to jail for kidnapping if they find out we're not your parents Rainbow. We could live a life in prison, behind bars where things might be a lot worse for us two, if they call Social Services- which the lady threatened to do. Call Social Services because we are 'horrible parents'." Ink paused, sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, one hand gently settling on her shoulder.

"Mas amo você. We will always love you..." Xhana whispered, stroking the girl's hair again and looking up sadly at Patch.

Lauren Brearly, a twenty-one year old star, famous because of her parents, roamed the dark New York City streets with a clipboard in hand and a full wallet in her pocket. Her black dyed hair lay flat against her shoulders and the pink highlights were barely noticable under the dim streetlights. Every few minutes she would push her sun-tanned hands through the long hair to keep it back as she walked through the city towards a bright building - a hospital.

Of course, if a photographer saw the starlight out at this time of night he would've thought she was drunk but she wasn't. The one thing that the media didn't know - or want to know - about Lauren was that she actually did help and care about people other than herself. She would occasionally visit sick children in hospitals or bring homeless people meals. Tonight however she was going to see a few sick children. Lauren didn't like doing this in the day beacuse of the frenzy that would surround it. There'd be rumors spreading about her being put into a hospital which would later be changed to rehab and maybe in some magazines it would say she died. Who knew these days.

Lauren approached the tall, white building and entered into the quiet lobby. The secretary directed her up to the children's wing where she'd start her visit. She walked into about three rooms, two of the children were asleep and the other with cancer. Lauren felt horrible as she looked at the small boy. His skin was as white as could be and he had no hair. His dark eyes seemed to be looking at her as she made small conversation but the boy didn't seem to be seeing her. He didn't look like he would last long. With a sigh, she said her goodbyes and exited the room before continuing down the hall.

She now entered the children examination wing. Many of the rooms that she peeked into were empty or the doctors were still in there observing the children so Lauren continued down the hallway until she reached one room. Peeking through the glass window she saw a small girl lying on the bed and a woman and man, both too young to be her parents, sitting with the child. Lauren knocked on the window, pulling out her wallet. The little girl was so cute. She had to donate something, or atleast find out what was wrong with her.

After being brought back to the alley with Ink, Bolt had walked back out of it and onto the street. He continued down the street, jogging now until he caught sight of Maybe a bit into Centeral Park. She seemed to be leaning over something and as Bolt neared, Maybe had already contniuned onto her way but he recognized it to be the fountain. It was the place to wash clothes for most people like them although Bolt rarely did that.

Jogging a bit faster, he contiuned through the dark park until he finally caught sight of Maybe once again. A small smile spread across his face as he pulled the hood off of the girl's head and jumped infront of her, stopping her in her trail.

"Hi Maybe!" He said energetically as he stepped out of her way and continued along next to her. "You always wash your clothes? You think they're dirty? Why don't ya just go back home and ask yer mom to wash 'em if ya care so much?"

Maybe rolled her eyes and sighed as she heard the voice of the younger boy, Bolt. He appearedd infront of her, causing her to stop short in the park. She couldn't see the boy too well in the light because of the darkness and knew that she should be getting back to the alley now, especially because the twelve-year old had tagged along.

"Hello Bolt," She mumbled, a bit annoyed. "Yes, I always wash my clothes and yes, I think they are dirty," She said, eyeing his dirty and tattered clothes. "Come with me next time earlier and I'll wash yours."

She bit her lip, ready to yell at him when Bolt mentioned her mother and going back home. "I'm not fucking going back home because my mom didn't wash my clothes. She didn't wash her clothes. She doesn't want me back," Maybe said. It was true. Her mother had always said how useless she was and how she wasted the money that they had. If Maybe ever went back she'd be sure that her mother wouldn't want her. She'd probably call the police saying that they weren't even related.

"Mine ain't needa be washed!" Bolt protested as he looked at her with a fake frown. He listened to Maybe's deffensive response to his questions. "Well there's no reason to be so tighlty wound about the whole thing," He sais as his usual smile appeared on his face and he slipped his arm over her shoulder.

They made their way back to the alley. The streets were now empty, all stores but a few gas stations were closed and the streetlights were the only thing that kept them to be able to see. It was probably an hour or so past midnight.

Approaching the alley, Bolt noticed that there were only a few from the group there. He narrowed his eyebrows. It wasn't too unusual for Smoke, Patch, Ink or any of the older ones but Bolt also didn't see Rainbow and it was unusual for Patch not to tell Maybe he was leaving. They were pretty close.

"Where's everyone?" Bolt asked as he looked at Maybe.