Hey, so just as a AN (and I know I've said this for other stories and it hasn't been true) this will most likely only be updated every few days. I just wanna take my time with this, and honestly, my summer's been pretty crazy so far. (Also, it's just too hot to write). Also, the POV will most likely be changing throughout, and thats pretty much it. So, thanks for reading, and please review and let me know what you think?


Prologue

Matthew Fallon PoV

"Mummy, can't you stay?" I cried.

"Matt, you know I can't". I remember her stoking the top of my head, fighting the losing battle it was to tame my natural cowlick.

"Natara" I could hear my dad call from somewhere just outside. He peeked his head in the door "we have to go".

"In a minute" she said, turning to him. I saw him glance at me, his blue eyes sparkling with love for me, his six-year-old son. He gave me a reassuring smile, and at that time I never felt so abandoned. Why did he have to go too?

"Why can't you stay?" I said quietly. I was looking at my father when I said this, but it was my mother who answered.

"You know why" she said softly. Her eyes shone with the same love as my dad's "there are bad people in the world, and it's me and daddy's job to make sure they don't hurt people like you and James".

She glanced back at my brother James, who was five at the time and only a year younger than me. It looked like she was expecting a goodbye from him, but he was preoccupied with a puzzle; which he seemed unable to figure out. It wasn't surprising, it was my puzzle and I still couldn't get it together. He didn't pay me or mum and mind, and kept working at it, his chin in his hand. Didn't he see that mum and dad were leaving? Didn't he understand? Maybe if he would have begged and cried, something I had never seen him do, they would have stayed. But of course, perfect little James did nothing of the sort. And all mum did was watch him for a moment, his face scrunched up in deep thought, as he went to place another peice.

"We'll be back soon" she said softly, squeezing my arm. It was something I had seen her do to my dad countless times, but somehow this was different. I felt like she was about to give me bad news. "Just go to sleep, and when you wake up, I promise daddy and I will be there" I nodded, and I could feel my eyes well up with tears. "Just do everything Lily says, and be nice to James".

I nodded. Lily was our babysitter, and even though she was just a teenager who wanted a summer job, she was fairly strict. With that as a goodbye, mum and dad left. Lily let me peer out the window until I couldn't see their taillights in the darkness anymore. When I was done I turned to James, and I saw that he had took apart his puzzle and turned all the pieces over so only the brown cardboard backs showed.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked.

"The picture's distracting".

I was just about to tell him he was weird when Lily told us to go to bed. James and I went into the bathroom to brush our teeth, and it was there that an idea struck me.

"Do you think mummy and daddy would still have to leave if there weren't any bad people?"

"I don't know".

I thought for a moment "I wanna help them catch bad people when I grow up, then maybe they wouldn't have to leave".

"Really?" James said after a moment. He may not have spoken much about it, but I know he wanted his parents to be home too.

"Yeah, just don't tell them, they might try and stop me. Promise you won't tell?".

"I promise"

"Cross your heart?".

I looked at him for a moment. Unlike me, he didn't inherit dad's eyes, but his were a replica of our mother's. The soft grey-brown color shone in with hope, and after a moment he said "Cross my heart".


Eleven Years Later

"Come on, Fallon!".

My head snaps up as a whistle's blown, and the same was for the other eight boys. I'm crouched, lining my fingers up with the white line and waiting for the sound of the starter gun. It's just one hundred meters between me and victory, and just eight others that stand in my way. I know there are people cheering for me, people calling for me to succeed, but I block them all out. All that matters is the one-hundred meters of track just before me, and nothing else. I barely hear someone yell 'ready' and 'set', and it's only at the sound of the starter gun ringing in my ears that brings the world back in a rush. I had inherited my mothers height, making me tower over the other boys, and naturally my stride's are longer. In my peripheral vision I can see I can see I'm ahead of everyone…except for one other boy from another school. I push to get ahead, but the finish line is nearing and I know there isn't enough time to get ahead. As I near, I take a wild leap of desperation, nearly diving into the finish line. I feel something catch my hand as I go down, and my palm burns with pain. The skin of my palm splits open, hot blood pouring down my arm. There's a split second when there's total silence, then the whole stadium brakes out in a roar of victory. I smile, knowing that I've won.

"Are you crazy?" I hear a voice say. The girls track coach is standing over me, her mouth forming a distinct frown "you could have cracked your head open!".

Without another word she grabs my arm, half-dragging me off the track. She grabs a can of disinfectant spray and some bandages from a nearby first-aid kit, while several of the girls from the girls team watch. Without saying anything she starts spraying my hand, and sharp pain shoots through the quarter-sized tear in my skin.

"Dammit!" I cry without thinking, yanking back my stinging hand and holding it.

"Watch it Fallon. Hole in your hand or not, I will give you detention".

"Relax, Holly" I heard my track coach say cheerfully "Give the kid a break!".

She scowls at him, yanking back my hand and bandaging it roughly. "Just go home, Fallon" she snaps "I don't need you bleeding all over the place".

I obey without protest. It doesn't matter much anyways, the match is almost over. I cross back over the track, leaving campus and beginning my walk home. About half-way home I'm walking down the street, when I hear someone cry out. I look around for a moment, and then I see it. The sound came from a little old woman in an alleyway across the street, clutching her purse to her chest, as a man with a knife advances on her. I look around, but either no one notices her, or no one cares. Knowing what I'm about to do is either very brave or very stupid, I go out of my way to reach that alleyway. I step into the alley, but neither of them notices me. I'm almost tempted to leave while I still can, but what person with even an ounce of decency could just leave a woman like that?

"Please…" she pleads. The old woman's crying, but her attacker's still coming closer, clearly trying to take her purse without risking being hit with her cane.

"Come on lady, just hand it over and no one gets hurt…".

"Leave her alone" I say after a moment of building up confidence.

The woman's attacker looks up, but before he can do anything I lunge forward and punch him full-on in the face. It happens too fast for him to have reacted, and he staggers back, slashing blindly with his knife. He lunges towards me, but before he can even do anything I grab the hand holding the knife, pushing down and forcing the man to the ground. I yank the knife out of his hand, and as he tried to get up I keep punching him. I see the blood, hear the man cry out, but in the heat of the moment l hardly notice. When man goes still I stop, panting, and see what I have just done done.

"No…" I whisper, looking down at the beaten form before me. I had been holding the knife in such a way that every time I went to punch him I was actually stabbing him, and I hadn't even realized it. I glance up to the woman, who's mouth is open in utter horror. Without thinking, I turn on heel and sprint home, not even looking back. By the time I reached the front steps I'm already panting and shaking, and not because I had sprinted home. My hands are covered in blood, and a small amount has dribbled down the front of my shirt. I take out my key and unlock the door, then practically crash though it, slamming it shut behind me. How I managed to make it home without someone inquiring about the blood I will never know.

I stumble into the bathroom and wash my hands, trying desperately to scrub the blood from my shirt. It's a wonder no one stopped me on the street. The whole time I'm terrified that James might come downstairs to use the bathroom, or that mom and dad might come home early. But after a moment I relax, my breaths become even and my heartbeat comes back to a normal pace. Through all this I still feel a numb buzz of adrenalin course through my veins, as if I'd just been cheered on for winning a dozen races. I look up at the mirror, and see my own scared-looking reflection staring back at me. I may be only seventeen, but I could easily pass for a twenty year old. The blue eyes I inherited from my dad shine with insanity, and the soft brown hair I got from my mother is plastered down with sweat.

"Just calm down" I whisper to myself "he might not even be dead, and even if he is, how are they gonna pin it on you?".

I know what I've said is true as soon as I say it. I feel something in my pocket, and when I reach in I know it's the knife. Good, at least they don't have the murder weapon. I don't think anyone I know saw me, and hopefully the woman I saved will be grateful enough not to turn me in. The only thing I have to worry about is fingerprints and DNA, but there's nothing I can do about it now. If they get lucky enough to find anything, my fingerprints and DNA won't be in their databases. Still, I need to be careful for the next few days. If anyone asks where the bloodstains came from, I'll tell them it's from when I cut my hand. I look back up and smile, knowing that there's a good chance I'll get away with this. But still, I know, next time I'll have to be careful. Because there definatly will be a next time.