Notes: This is a take on one of the alternate universe/futures of Steve and Snot from the episode "The Unincludeds". In one of them, Steve and Snot lose contact with one another for a good long while having drifted apart. Steve has become grossly self-obsessed and vain and Snot finds himself living on the street.
Each of them are 39 years old at this point, taking into consideration that episode with them being 15 and it's a flash forward into the future of 24 years.
...
Mensch was sitting up against the corner of Saint Luther and Access Blvd and feeling dizzy in the most delicious way. He felt free but more than that, almost tangibly not long for this world. It was a tired feeling, one that he had gotten used to.
A sea of people swept passed him, most paying him no mind. A few tossed some change into the dirty, yellowing dixie cup in front of him. He shifted, bringing his knees up to his chest as best as he could.
It smelled like rain. Rain soon.
A particularly loud man came rushing past him, angrily jabbing in the air as he shouted into his cell phone. His suit was nice, of what Mensch could see of it, from his place slumped down on the ground.
This sidewalk was dirty, dirtier and more broken than the one on the other side of town but he didn't really care.
Slumping back against the brick behind him, the man pushed a shaky hand into his face to brush away invisible attackers as he let his legs straighten back out.
His beard had grown long as of late, his inability to travel far making it hard to meet up with Samuel "Sammy" Montaine, a great man who had once given him a great cleanup and haircut. His curly locks needed it now, having grown out too long and tangled.
He rubbed his hands along his legs. These were his good jeans, the black ones, well they were, they had been. He looked at the blood stains in the fabric distractedly until a voice beckoned down to him.
"Hey! Hey, come on!" It said.
The booming voice threatened to swallow him whole as it surrounded him, swirling with colors of blue and lilac. He looked up into the sky and smiled at the sight. He didn't see the officer peering down at him, his eyes looking past him and his dark black and well tailored uniform.
The lilac reminded him of something but if he had at once remembered just what that was, it was long gone now. The memory slipped away like the fragile pieces of his once sound mind.
"Come on, get up!" The cop was yelling now and grasping at his dirty green poncho quite aggressively.
Mensch struggled to his feet, now aware of the police officer addressing him.
"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled huskily as he began to gather his things shakily.
"You can't sit here, this sidewalk is for pedestrians only... "
The man continued on but Mensch had heard it too many times before. He got the gist and tuned him out quite quickly.
Carrying the rolled up blanket over to his shopping cart, he stuffed it deep down in to the base, eyeing the glass liquor bottles with care so as not to break them. He needed them for later.
"Hey! Did you hear me?" The officer shouted again, causing him to turn and look his way.
He was young, maybe in his mid twenties, if that. He had baby blonde hair, cut short within only an inch or two of his scalp. Must be a fresh trainee, fresh on the beat.
"Mmm... yessir." He slurred to the man, giving a half salute and then staggering back a bit from the motion.
The "boy" seemed to disregard him then, as he stormed off down the street on foot, attention elsewhere. He had written him off, good.
'Fucking boy... ' Mensch thought to himself, turning away. He was a grown ass man, dammit. He didn't have to listen to this shit from no punk kid. He was much older, much wiser than him. But he'd learned long ago, the police were not someone you wanted to mess with.
As he leaned heavily on the cart, he began to take dangerous, unsure steps as he pushed it a ways down the street. He couldn't go far, he needed to meet Marshall here for the drop.
He'd waste time pushing the cart up and down a few blocks maybe, then when he was sure the kid had taken off, settle back in to the corner spot. He just hoped he could make it. He was already seeing spots.
A woman shoved into him by mistake and began to apologize but upon closer inspection of him, made a noise of disgust and took off instead.
Mensch smirked, already a melody of curses and insults spinning in his head.
He stumbled a bit but caught himself as he neared the end of the next block. The street herd was beginning to thin now, anxious business people heading home just as the final bits of light were leaving the sky.
Swinging the heavy cart back around towards the way he came, he began heading back down to the meet up spot.
No sign of the boy so that was good. He paused in his journey for just a second, to hack and nearly cough up a lung. He spit fluid out between his teeth onto the dirty pavement below. He stared at the blood for only a second before continuing on.
Back at the agreed upon spot, he eyed a nearby drifter as he made his way down the other side of the street. He couldn't place where he knew him from but had definitely seen him before.
His stomach rumbled from a lack of food but he ignored it, blissfully awaiting the drop of his drug of choice, heroin.
Leaning back against the brick, it felt cool against his neck now, maybe it really was going to rain?
Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and into his eyes until he wiped them away carelessly.
Coughing some more, he ignored the bright red liquid on his poncho now.
Rain soon. Sleep soon.
If only the drop would come.