City lights cut through the darkness like man made suns. Wind bit and shoved, forcing everyone still outside to long for the comfort of their home.

Everyone but one that is. This person didn't have a home and the cold seemed fitting for the sober occasion.

He stood where no one would think to look, if anyone was looking that is. He highly doubted it.

The building was old and vacant. It had been that way for years, and the boy felt a connection to the brick building that was slowly falling apart. No one else cared about it. No one stepped into fix it as they watched it silently crumble right in front of them.

The boy had tried to brighten it up and in some aspects he had succeeded. The walls on the inside were now a peaceful blue color and candles hung from home made chandeliers. (Bird houses that he had saved up for and then cut off the small roofs.)

They were the product of his hard work and way too many hours of free time.

Despite all of this, the building still slowly fell apart along with him.

The boy who stood on the ledge of that building was a smart kid, just like his name sake.

He had known that there was a great possibility his life could get better. He had known this when he'd cut into soft flesh and watched the red spill over his wrist like an abstract paining. He had known that one second could change everything in his life and that maybe one day he would feel...okay.

He had known this when he climbed out the window and up the fire escape. Up,up,up, until he could see the whole city stretched out bellow him.

He had done this so many times before. It had been a part of his daily routine, but this time was different. This time he knew he could do it.

He felt the wind nudging him backwards as it caused messy strands of blond to shake.

He laughed, a broken quiet sound. The wind was the only one who tried to stop him. No one begged him to stay but the forces of a world he was so sick of. "Oh the shucking irony.", he thought.

The boy had climbed because he'd known one thing for certain. If someone or something could come along and fix his life, if they didn't get there soon there would be nothing left of him to save. He'd rather die now then live one more day as a broken shell. He was done.

Now, he stood still on the small ledge and looked anywhere but the pavement below him. He didn't want to see his final destination and it was lucky he didn't. He noticed as the light from the small bakery under him was turned off and darkness covered him like a jacket that had been left outside.

It was a new place and somepart of the boy wished he gone as the scent of fresher baked bread hit him. Maybe he would... No! He would not back down again!

He took a deep breath and held his arms out like wings. "I tried.", he swore to the heavens.

All it took was a small step foreword. Barely a step at all, more like a shuffle, and gravity yanked him away from the safety of the roof.

He was a boy that had touched so many strangers just by his natural kindness. He was the boy that made the greenies at the orphanage feel welcome. He was the boy that played with the loners and helped the caretakers with a small smile. He was the one that amazed his teachers with his intelligence, the one that would run and escape for hours, sometimes even smile for real. Bright and rare.

He yelped in surprise when he was jerked to a stop and fell the air rush past him in the opposite direction as it should be. He hadn't remembered there being a trampoline being put there.

A ripping sound filled his ears. On instinct, his hands clutched at anything they could find, desperately digging into the hard fabric.

For a second everything stood still and all he could hear was his harsh breaths and the pounding of his heart as it tried to flee from his chest. There was another ripping sound and he wondered what had happened, but then he was falling again.

The boy that had no one hit the ground with a sickening crunch and a scream of agony before the world faded away mercifully and sheltered him in a quiet place.

Newt's arms were stretched out like wings as a puddle of red expanded around him. He looked like a bird that had failed to fly, broken and small.

But even though he wanted to give up, his body hadn't gotten the memo.

Newt was still breathing when a scream echoed through the ally and when it's owner dialed 911.

Alby walked down the long hallways and saw the door to escape from his own personal hell. It was about time.

School had been especially hard today and Alby was starting to thing that Gally and Ben actually couldn't shut up, and as much as some of the things Gally whispered in class put a fire in his belly, Alby forced himself not to react.

Adults called it anger issues. He called it being surrounded by a**holes. No matter what anyone thought, the fact was that if he so much as shoved someone he'd be expelled.

Alby was just about to yank open the door when he heard as voice like a snarl. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere that concerns you."

Alby turned to face Ben and Gally with an eye roll and a sigh to top it off. They were both watching him and leaning again different sides of the hallway. They would have looked like an album cover if not for their glaring eyes and smirking lips.

Alby had known it would've been smart just to leave and walk away. He had known it when his hands clenched into fist as pent up frustration searched for a physical outlet.

He had known when he took a step forward- It was that one step that would lead the way to the boy currently limp and strapped to a gurney as his arrival at the hospital was announced with the screams of a siren and flashing lights.- and he had definitely known he should've left when he woke up staring at a white ceiling that wasn't his own.

"Hey look. Fight clubs finally up."

Alby groggily turned his head to stare at the two boys in blue hospital attire and name tags that he would've read if the word didn't blur like they were underwater.

The one that had spoken was asian with dark hair and an sharp intelligent gaze of dark eyes to match his hair.

He smirked at his own remark as he nudged the other boy who rolled his coco powder colored eyes.

Just like the other hospital worker's they screamed of intelligence. Alby wondered if they were doctors in training.

Instead of asking, he just stared from his bed and rubbed his forehead. He just wanted to sleep and he could already feel the waking world weighing on his exhausted mind.

The boy with light brown eyes and and short dark brown hair turned his attention to the patient. "Hi. I'm Thomas and this is Minho. You are in Glade Hospital. How are you feeling?"

"Fine.", Alby lied. "When can I leave?" Hospitals gave him the creeps and he could deal with his head pounded just as well from his own couch.

Minho seemed to think differently though because he scoffed. "Not for at least a week. That's what happens when you fight two vs one and end up falling down stairs."

"A week?!", Alby exclaimed and sat up in outrage and full of protest. He gasped as pain took over his anger and felt strong arms gently lower him back to the bed.

"At least.", Thomas said with a sympathetic glance. Alby glared but gave up and leaned back against the soft, welcoming pillows. He could find a way out once his brain stopped pounding against his scull.

Minho walked over with a cup of water and a pill. Alby glared at the pill but took it anyway. Anything to make the headache fade. The water felt amazing as it ran down his dry throat and caused him to sigh lightly once he'd drunken it all. "How long was I out?"

"About a day.", Minho answered casually as he took the cup back and placed it on the dresser.

Thomas grabbed the clipboard from the end of the bed and started to flip through it. "Twenty-two hours.", he answered more specifically.

He began to list injuries and Alby grimly listened and nodded thinking about how stupid he'd been for staying to fight, but at the same time thinking about how he was going to kill Gally for this one.

Half way through the list Thomas' wrist watch beeped causing Alby to wince and his hand to fly to his abused head.

Thomas switched it off quickly and apologized. Alby was immediately curious when he caught a glimpse of sadness in the brown orbs that hadn't been there before.

Then, Minho cleared his throat and offered, "I can go check on the jumper this time Thomas. You just keep listing why the fight was a bad idea to this poor shank."

Thomas got up and shook his head. He gave Minho a smile. "No I'll go. I don't want the poor kid to wake up to your face."

Minho smirked confidently and sat down leaning the chair back on two legs. "The kid would be lucky to wake up to this." He made a circled around his own face with his hand.

Alby snorted earning him a laugh from Thomas and a mock glare from Minho. Once Thomas had left Ably asked, "Jumper?"

Minho shrugged nonchalantly but Alby could see he was troubled by the slight scrunching between his eyebrows and the way the sharpness in his eyes faded away a little bit as if it was focussed on something inside his own head. Alby would bet good money that the gears in that head were turning.

"Yeah. A sixteen year old jumped off the roof of a building last night. He would've died but he apparently didn't look at the ground closely because he fell into a banister. He's still not in great shape. The fall from the banister was still pretty darn high. His name's Newt."

Alby frowned. He now had a pretty good idea what Minho was thinking about. Why would anyone want to take their own life? What could be so bad? "Is he going to make it?", he asked out loud.

Minho's hands clenched into fist and he got up. "It doesn't look good. Newt hit his head and he's lost a lot of blood. If he doesn't wake up soon his chances will be almost nonexistent."

He walked over to the door and turned back with a frustrated sigh. "But we can never give up on a patient. We're not giving up on him."

Alby nodded and then he was left alone in the white hospital room with nothing but his thoughts.

Another day went by and Newt hadn't stirred. Alby watched the hope seem to slowly drip out of Thomas and Minho for their patient.

Alby had found out that Thomas and Minho were both studying to be doctors but for the moment they had taken jobs as nurses to pay for their shared apartment.

Alby's injuries weren't all that bad, despite how long the list had been. Most were so minor he barley noticed. The worst being a broken rib and a fractured ankle, and he was already starting physical therapy and discovering just how much he despised crutches.

When it happened, he'd been making his way down the hallway at a snails pace while Minho talked about the hospital and the staff. Occasionally he would say something encouraging to spur the patient on.

Alby was breathing heavily from the strain put on his body and was starting to actually consider laying on the floor. The only thing stopping him was his stubborn pride.

When he finally got a break he leaned against the wall and took gulps from the cold water bottle Minho handed to him. He had just taken his third gulp when Thomas peaked out of one of the rooms with a strange mix of excitement and nervousness on his face. "Newt's awake! Get a doctor!"

Minho took off like a race car, faster than Alby had ever seen anyone run. Thomas had already disappeared inside the room again and Alby reluctantly pushed off of the wall to limp to the room.

He'd expected the kid to look dead. Blank depressed eyes filled with hopelessness and limp on the bed as if he wanted to lay there until the end of his days. He was shocked at how wrong his mental image had been.

Newt was looking around the room so fast that Alby was afraid he'd snap his own neck with the quick movement. He was skinny but not a weak twig like Alby had pictured in his mind and his eyes-

Alby could've spent all day looking into those eyes and when he latter looked back on their first meeting he'd been sure he must've stared at Newt for an uncomfortably long time. But he couldn't blame himself.

Newt had bright, honest blue eyes like the skies in tropical islands that Alby had only seen from his small TV screen, but that wasn't what made them really special. Tons of blue had pretty blue eyes after all. What set this pair apart was how they were filled to the brim with more emotions than Alby could identify.

Confusion was big one, followed by curiosity, fear, pain, nervousness and the tiniest bit of hope with hidden sadness in the background. They were like two sparks that could turn into explosions any minute.

Finally, Newt's overwhelmed brain seemed to realize where he was and that he had failed to take his own life.

Just like that, all those emotions in those bright eyes were swept away by defeat and the patient slumped in the hospital bed looking for the first time exactly how Alby had imagined him.

It is so hard to come up with similes for brown eyes! Anyway, I hope you liked the first chapter. Please let me know what you thought and how I can do better. :)