A/N: For the Young Six contest.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
A man walked out of the bakery, carefully hanging his bag of fresh bread on his arm before tightening his scarf and jacket. He strode forward briskly, trying to reach home as soon as possible to get out of the cold. As he glanced forward though, his small smirk faded away into a suspicious frown.
There was a boy staring at him from the mouth of the upcoming alley.
He was obviously a street kid—the scruffy torn jeans, ripped sneakers, and smudged face were enough to deduce that. He was still only a child though…ten years old at the most. Still, the man had heard countless stories of the child gangs in this area—and there was something in the boy's face that hinted a dangerous edge. The man quickened his pace, intending to flash by the kid.
Just as he was about to step past the mouth of the alleyway, the kid lurched forward, coming uncomfortably close. Startled, the man immediately slammed a hand over his back pocket—where his wallet was—and hurried away even faster.
After safely passing the alley, the man tried to slow his pounding heart, and touched his wallet again with a sigh of relief. That sneaking kid had tried to rob him—but he wasn't one to be fooled by petty tricks.
Back in the shadows of the alley, the boy leaned forward a bit to track the man's progress onto another street, and then he slid a hand into his green jacket to carefully bring out his prize—a freshly baked loaf of bread.
He let a small smile spread over his face before ducking back into the alley and disappearing into the shadows.
~~A few hours later…~~
The boy flitted through the alleys, hugging the walls and gliding through shadows. Cupped in his hands, he held a tin of refried beans. His eyes were constantly moving—darting from side to side to warn him of danger. As he rounded a corner, he finally slowed down, and walked confidently to the wall at the end.
Slowly, he pried at a spot near the base of the wall, and lifted out a large brick. Under it, glinting softly in the dusty sunlight, were other tin cans and containers. Gently, he lowered his newest acquisition into his stash, and gazed at it happily.
His normally sharp ears didn't pick up the quiet tread behind him.
As he was lowering the brick back into place, a nasty voice sounded behind him.
"Well, well, well. It's a little hidey-hole!"
The boy whipped around to face a tall twelve-year-old sneering down at him. His eyes widened even further when he recognized him—he was part of the notorious gang of bullies who claimed these streets as their territory.
The older boy's sneer turned abruptly into a snarl. "These are our streets, kid. Now you hand the food stuffs to me 'fore I beat your brains in."
The boy in the green jacket took a step back—and hit the wall.
The older boy suddenly lunged forward, swiping at the front of the boy's shirt. The boy threw himself to the side, wincing when he slammed into the ground on his shoulder. Immediately, he scrambled up and raced around the bully, glimpsing freedom in the gap between the bully and the wall.
A cackle from his left. "Ha! Think you can run from me? It don't mater anyway—I'll find you."
I'll always find you…
It was more the weight of memory than the leg stretched out in front of him that caused the boy to stumble and crash into the ground.
Spitting the dirt from his mouth, he got to his hands and knees in time to crawl away from a vicious kick aimed for his ribs. He glanced frantically from side to side, searching for a way to even the odds.
Another hearty laugh. "When I'm done, nobody's gonna know you!"
…always find you if…
A double kick connected with the side of his body, propelling him backward until his back met the wall of the alley again. He gasped for breath, holding his side, while he stretched out his other arm in front of him in an attempt to drag himself away from another attack.
Another kick, and his body was shoved farther into the uneven wall. He hissed at the faint whisper of threads breaking and slid his outstretched hand further forward, the other hand reaching behind him to cover the thinning spot on the back of his jacket.
Amid the bully's gales of laughter, he blinked back tears at the damage to his clothing.
…if you wear…
Then, he hand scraped against another rough surface—his brick.
A surge of adrenaline coursed through his body, and he yanked the brick towards him, intercepting another punch. There was a crunch as the bully's knuckles met the unyielding brick, and an ear-splitting cry erupted from him. The boy used the pause to pull himself into a crouch, both hands resting lightly on the brick. He ducked an enraged blow to his head, and then peered grimly into the pained face of the bully.
The bully glared down at him, clenching his good fist for a last, finishing shot. "You's asking for it greenie!" he snarled.
…this green jacket.
The boy in green narrowed his eyes, and then lifted an eyebrow.
The bully finally snapped—he let loose a roar and stepped in even closer to the crouching boy. Moving quickly, the boy sprang up from his crouch and shoved the brick into the bully's stomach. As the bully gasped for air, clutching his stomach, the boy smashed the brick down into the older boy's foot—adding his own weight to the force of the brick. When the bully howled, the boy kicked the backs of the bully's knees, bringing him buckling to the ground.
The bully wavered slowly to his knees, his eyes blazing with a murderous rage. "You…you greenie…I'm gonna finish you so bad there'll be pieces of you to pick off the floor…"
Frowning determinedly, the boy raised the brick up above his head one final time, and brought it down on the bully's back.
There was a dull thud as the bully hit the ground, his tormented cries muffled by the dirt. The boy dropped the brick and sprinted away through the alleys, limping slightly and still clutching his side.
Running away. Always running away. Escaping from the sentence that teased him, picked at him, tortured him with forbidden dreams.
It seemed to echo through the desolate alley, sweeping in a spiral to poke tendrils at his fleeing back.
I'll always find you if you wear this green jacket.
Unnoticed by anyone, a figure shrouded in a trench coat stood on top of the derelict building. Hidden eyes tracked the little boy through the maze of streets, and then returned to the bully, who was still lying on the ground, moaning and shaking.
There was a slight rustle of fabric, and the figure was gone.
The boy finally stopped running, his breaths coming in pained gasps as he leaned against the wall and let his head roll back. He slid to the ground, and examined his injuries. His knees were both bleeding through his ripped jeans, his side felt battered and bruised, and the skin on his hands was shredded from his earlier death grip on the uneven brick.
And his jacket was ripped.
I'll always find you if you wear this green jacket.
…this green jacket.
…green jacket.
Green jacket.
He slapped his hands over his ears, moaning into his knees, barely holding back his sobs. He couldn't afford to—green—get distracted now—jacket—with castles in the air. Always find you if—he squeezed his eyes shut, and then focused on his breathing.
In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. It was just a jacket. Just a lousy—find you if—jacket. He bared his teeth and forcefully leashed his mind to another chain of thought.
The gang.
No doubt that bully would rally the rest of his friends—all more vicious than the one before—to find him. He had lost his food stash too…but he would ride it out. Just stay low for a while, build another hide-out, continue the same routine.
He'd done it before. No big deal. It was how he had survived after…after...I'll always be able to find you if—
After his hopes and dreams had been shattered.
Exhausted, he slumped over onto his side and slid uneasily into sleep, tossing and turning.
The sun was poking into his eyelids, trailing gentle fingers down his neck and arms, gently caressing the backs of his hands. Groggily, he opened his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach, coming fully awake when he finally remembered the events of the day before. He wavered to his feet, wincing at the pain in his ribs, and then quickly hobbled deeper into the maze of alleyways. The safest place for him right now was as far away from the gang of bullies as possible—no doubt they would be searching for him even now.
Suddenly, he saw a shadow flit across the ground.
His head sprung up, eyes scouring the rooftops for the owner of the shadow. He walked forward warily in the direction the shadow had gone, still searching…there!
He glimpsed the edge of a cloak as the person nimbly leaped the distance between two buildings, making quick progress down the alley. His pain forgotten, the boy sprinted behind him, amazed and intrigued by the mysterious figure.
The boy continued this strange game of tag for a while, loving the feeling of testing his limits as the figure soared above him.
Then, just as he was about to round a corner, he heard a whisper that chilled him to the bone.
"We're gonna get him, don't you worry. He's around here right now."
He backed away slowly, mind working in overdrive. The bullies knew he was around here! He had been so stupid, chasing a shadow while they had laid their trap for him. He took another step backward, trying to make no noise at all…
…and stepped onto something that felt rubbery and firm.
"Going somewhere greenie?"
The man on the rooftops stopped suddenly and peered around him. That talented, curious little fighter in green had stopped following him. Just when he was starting to have so much fun too.
He sighed and shook his head. Never had anyone actually spotted him on a rooftop before, and, even more surprisingly, never had anyone been able to keep up with him for so long. He'd started to have hopes for the boy—after all, he was thinking of taking on another stud—
His head twitched at the sound of a pained whimper—and then he was gone.
The boy gave up trying to fight or even escape his tormentors, instead curling into a ball on the ground.
He could hear their taunts battering his ears as jabs and kicks connected with his body.
"Ha! Not feelin' so good no more huh?"
"Whatcha waiting for? Someone to rescue you?"
"Who would rescue him? Nobody'd want him!"
I'll always find you if you wear this green jacket.
He squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to cry at the pain both old and new. He could feel his hold on reality slipping, his vision blurring through his eyelids.
She'd find him…she'd promised she would. And he was still wearing the jacket…the green jacket.
A face flickered into focus behind his eyelids, one with deep chocolate eyes and raven-black hair framing its gentle and loving smile. I'll always find you if you wear this green jacket.
He thought he felt a cool shadow on his cheek…the rustle of a cloak from above…but then something snapped in his arm, and he was falling…falling…
He'd been waiting for a day now. Why wasn't she back yet? Did she leave him? What would he do if he was all alone?
He paced around the box where they slept. How would he get warm without her to hug him? Who would keep those mean kids away?
Small, scurrying footsteps.
He turned and ran forward, burying his face in her stomach, feeling the tears leaking out and the tickle of her hair on his neck.
Cool fingers brushing away the tears, ruffling his hair. Face crinkled into a smile. Lilting tinkle of sound at his fear.
Warm, rough cloth pulled around his arms and onto him. A jacket. A green jacket?
Soft hands covered in dirt cupping his cheeks. Kind face suddenly serious.
"Always wear this. I'll always find you if you wear this green jacket."
Him nodding, pulling her to her knees and then nuzzling into her neck, breathing in her earthy scent, warmth enveloping him with the safety of her arms.
She wouldn't ever let go. Never. She would always find him. She said so.
Emptiness. Cold. Wind whistling through his hair, no box or soft warm hug to quell it.
3 days.
Alone. Completely alone.
Her back, fading into the distance, her hand waving in his direction, her soft assurance.
"I'll always find you if you wear this green jacket."
Waiting. Had to wait. She said she would find him. Still had the green jacket.
She would come, arms wrapping around him, lilting laughter again.
Her arms—wrapped tighter around him as he moaned and tried to move his broken arm.
The man in the cloak leaned over and—her breath tickling his ears again—whispered to the green bundle in his arms.
She'd shake her head at his fear, ruffling his hair, softly say into his ears…
"I've found you now, little green one."
A/N: I loved writing this story so much, especially because Six is one of my favorite characters ever! Anyway, if the last part was confusing for you, the italics is what little Six is dreaming/thinking, and the regular print is what the man is saying/doing. Can you guys guess who the cloaked man is? Well…I hope you know who it is… D:
And yes, the whole child gang thing on the streets was very inspired from Ender's Shadow.
PLEASE REVIEW! ^.^