Standard Disclaimers apply as always. I don't own them, which's kinda more fun. We all like to play with what we wish we had.
This is a one-shot that explains a little about his own standards, and why they are what they are. Just a fun little story.
She was desperate. It had been two, three days? since she had last eaten, and her mind was constantly hazy. She had been watching the different food vendors, watching to see which ones were busy, which ones were not as well-watched, and she found one she thought she could lift from. She crowded in with the other customers, who took up nearly every inch of space, and when several people had extended their arms, trying to convince the vendor they were the next in line, she made her move. Her arms seemed to both go up as well, to catch his attention, but only one made it all the way up. Then it was easy to let herself be shoved out of the way, to flip off a random customer, and storm off in a huff. She kept walking, holding the bread as though it was her soul. Once she was a reasonable distance away, she slipped into the first alley that looked empty and hunkered down next to a dumpster. She broke off a piece of bread and forced herself to eat it slowly. Knowing your stomach is small and cannot handle a lot of food does not drown out the demands of said stomach. She heard a can rattle and the loaf was hidden in her coat before she had even looked up. A small boy was watching her from farther in the alley, and she was surprised she hadn't known he was there. The kid watched her warily, but even though he was in the relative darkness of the alley, she could see the feverish hunger that was in his eyes. She pulled out the bread and broke off half of the loaf, enough to last her another day. It would probably last him for three.
"I'll share this with you, but you gotta come out of there. I'm not gonna toss it and have it get all gross on the ground; worked too damn hard to get this. And hurry up, before I change my mind." She had no intention of changing her mind, but no one believed in kindness on the street. The only way this little boy would believe her was if she put irritation in her voice.
The boy inched further, slowly, but surely. She extended her arm out as far as it could go, the other hand busy feeding her face. She kept her head turned away, not wanting to spook him and have the effort be for nothing. She felt the bread as it was snatched from her hand, and she quickly brought her own back, registering an enraged voice aimed down the alley.
"You there! That's my bread, you thief!!" Shit, she thought to herself, she was caught. Why they thought the kid had done it was beyond her, but it didn't change the fact that the kid was standing in the middle of the alley with panic on his face. He started to bolt for the back end, where it was darker and easier to hide, but the vendor was on him in seconds. She only tossed a quick look down to the street to see if they had attracted a lot of attention, cursing as she saw several curious passerbys before lunging for the vendor. They all went sprawling deeper into the alley, and she tried to wrap her arms and legs around him to give the kid time to run. An elbow in her face made her relax just enough that the man was able to roll off of her, and another punch landed to her brusied nose broke it. Now bleeding heavily down her face, she looked up at the man to watch him grab the kid and slam him against a building, the kid's head crunching so loudly that she cringed. She staggered to her feet, desperate to get the man's hands off the kid's neck. After several punches didn't seem to faze him, she went for the crotch. Instantly the kid was dropped, and the vendor joined him on the ground, his body curled over in pain. She hauled the kid up as gently as she could and tried to push him towards the far end of the alley, noting with a quick look over her shoulder that their tussel seemed to have lost the interest of those that had been watching. The boy was waving on his feet, and though she could see a knot forming on the back of his head, she could not understand how the blow had not broken the skin. She had only been able to usher them a few feet before a hand yanked her hair back forcefully. She could not help the yelp that escaped her, and she was unable to control how she fell. That horrible feeling of falling into nothing, not knowing when the ground would hit you, not knowing if something sharper would bite instead. She hit the vendor's chest and saw his knife heading for her stomach. She caught his hands in hers, but he was so much stronger than her. His other hand wrapped in her hair prevented her from twisting away, and she watched the knife slowly inch towards her. Sweat instantly broke out and poured down her face, and it stung like hell where it hit her broken nose, but she only saw the knife. Tiny hands covered the vendor's as the little boy tried to pull his arm away, but it was no use. The boy bit down as hard as he could on the man's hand. An angered cry roared from the man as he relaxed his muscles and let the push from her hands and the pull from the boy's naturally take his fist straight into the boy's face. The boy stumbled back, sprawling out on the ground as he lost his balance on garbage behind him. Her panic turned to rage as she ripped her head out of his grasp, uncaring that some of her hair was pulled out by the roots and remained in his fist. She turned and shot her palm under his chin, intent on killing the bastard. His head snapped backwards, and she punched his throat as hard as she could, watching him slide down the brick wall with some satisfaction. Taking the knife from his hands, she turned her body so that she blocked the boy from view before stabbing him in the stomach, ripping away as she pulled the knife out. Ignoring the smell of his punctured intestines, she dropped the knife and ran over to the boy, who was sitting up and looking around in a daze.
"You ok, kid? You got knocked around pretty good, huh?" The boy nodded and sat up, looking around for his loaf of bread. She saw it laying on the ground behind him, just past where his head was when he fell. She leaned over him to pick it up when a crushing weight fell on top of her. She struggled to keep her weight off the boy, wondering why her back hurt so badly it felt like it was split in two. Her arms trembled violently as they slowly, inch by inch, lifted her body off the ground enough for him to squirm out from under her. Only then did shrug the weight off to the side, crying out sharply as the pain in her back seemed to spread up and down the back of her body like fire. Her eyes sought out the boy's, and the tears that shimmered in his told her all she needed to know. The vendor had not been dead, and he had stabbed her in the back. She felt how cold her skin was, how hot the blood spreading and soaking into her clothes was. Always a realist, she knew she didn't have long before more than her skin was cold. A harsh cough seemed to start on its' own, and they both could hear the wheeze that came from one side of her body; the knife had ripped into a lung.
"What's your name, kid?" His eyes had never left her face, and his tears had yet to leave his eyes.
"Richard." She tried to get her right hand into the pocket inside her coat, but that was the side she had been stabbed on, and it just refused to work.
"Richard, there's more bread in my pocket, on the inside. I can't get it, and you're going to need it more than I will, so can you grab it for me?" The child carefully peeled her coat away and found the other half of the loaf, cradling it to his chest as though it were a security blanket. She coughed again, seeing that blood was coming out of her mouth and tried to hide it, but he had already seen it. His eyes, so old, looked at her in understanding.
"Richard, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I'm going to tell you something, and I don't want you to ever forget it, ok?" She waited for his nod before she continued.
"There is no law against doing what you have to do to survive. People will try to tell you it's wrong to steal to eat, to defend yourself from other people, but they're wrong. You have a God-given right to stay alive, to survive. I don't want to die for nothing, so I want you to promise me that you will survive, no matter what it takes. You hear me? I want you to live a long time, long enough to do all the things I won't get to. Promise me right now." The boy nodded quickly, unable to deny the harsh demand.
"Good. Now, you're too young to understand this, so just remember this for when you're older, ok Richard? Don't forget why you are still alive. Don't forget why I gave up my right to survive, for you. Because some things are worth dying for, and whether you believe it or not, you are worth it Richard." Her left hand was only able to reach his foot, but she shoot his shoe with each important word that she spoke. Her eyes bore into his, telling him without words how important it was to remember what she was telling him.
"Now, I need you to get out of here, Richard. I don't want you to stick around, just let me die in peace knowing you're ok." He nodded, the moisture in his eyes finally falling down his cheeks as he continued to hug the two loaves in his arms. He stood up and looked down on her one more time, seeing her smile reassuringly at her, before running to the far end of the alley. She waited until the sounds of his little feet were long gone before closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep.