Broken Fairytales part 1
by Phantaz-Magoria

Warning!: Drug use, violence, adult themes, and language

Credit belongs to: Robyn Maddison! Her story Of Red Velvet and Motorcycles sparked this story and she was kind enough to allow me to springboard off of it. Mine is a little different (a lot different) from hers, but the idea belongs to her =)

Also, any mentions of a drug called Erebus were shamelessly stolen from a Star Wars fanfiction called Cast My Soul To The Sea by Sharon Nuttcombe and the follow up fic This Way Became My Journey by Emily Glick. I wouldn't know how to find them to ask permission to use it (I read that series back in 2001, 2002, something...) But if they read this one, I hope they know I think they did a wonderful job and I only steal because I can't do better.

Anyhow! On with the show...!

* * *

Present day somewhere in the real world...

He needed a fix. He needed a fix. He desperately needed a fix. It was bad this time. Hands shaking, breath catching, hot and cold sweats all over. He ran a shaking hand through his wild hair. He really needed a fix.

"Hey! Glitch!"

He jerked around, startled out of his thoughts by the twelve year old kid running up to him. "Hello, do I know...? Oh! Shoe! Hi, there."

Shoe didn't have much, just a treasured pair of sneakers and a basketball signed by Shaquil O'Neil. He took the basketball everywhere. But he had always been a good kid. He and Glitch had been fast friends in spite of their age difference eve since Shoe had been placed in the foster home. Things had changed, though. Now it was rare that they saw each other. Every time, Shoe hoped that something had changed, something would be different. He was getting used to disappointment.

"Glitch! You wanna shoot some hoops?"

Glitch could only manage a sickly smile and a quick shake of the head. "Maybe next time, Shoe." He leaned back against the brick wall of the alley, arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen. He felt like he was going to be sick!

"Hey, man, you doing alright? You look pretty bad."

"I feel pretty bad. Have you seen Zero? I need to talk to him."

"Need to buy more drugs, you mean." The kid's disapproving look made Glitch's stomach turn.

"You don't understand, Shoe..."

"Hey, man, I understand perfectly. I understand that you used to be a cool guy. Now you're just a junky."

If this hadn't been a particularly bad day, Glitch might have felt bad, a hint of remorse for the life that he'd lost. Now everything was swimming in and out of reality along with the gnawing, biting pain that threatened to eat him alive.

"I need to find Zero, have you seen him?"

"Zero ain't here, man. He hasn't been around since Officer Cain tried to put him away for selling his shit at the school."

"Don t swear."

"Sorry. Selling his crap."

Glitch ran his shaking hands through his hair. "I need to find him. I need to find him. I need to-" He looked down startled at the hand on his sleeve. "Hello, do I...? Shoe!" Glitch smiled sheepishly at the sad, disappointed look on the kid's face. "I was glitching again, wasn't I?"

"I wish you'd get some help, man. They got programs and things. They talk about 'em at school all the time. Why don't you let somebody help you?"

Glitch gave him an empty smile, misery and despair shining in his dark eyes. "I wish I could, but they can't help people like me."

Nobody could help. Nothing could help. Nothing except that next fix. He needed to find Zero.

* * *

Three years ago...

Ambrose had his hands full as he climbed the stairs, dodging the other high school kids and cradling the large heavy box in his arms. One more flight of stairs to go. He stopped to catch his breath, resting one corner of the box on the stair rail. He wasn t expecting the sudden impact and lost his grip, watching in horror as the large box tumbled off the rail and down, down, down...

He flinched when it landed with a crashing sound of shattering glass and metal. Cold disappointment and hot anger warred for dominance in his chest giving him an overall numb feeling.

"Aw hell, kid, I'm sorry!"

Almost as if in a daze, he looked up at the person who had knocked into him. It was an adult in a black police officer's uniform with a bright silver badge on his breast pocket. His nametape said 'Cain' and his arctic blue eyes were sincere with concern and apology. The man looked over the railing at the crushed box and the growing puddle of liquid seeping out from under it.

"You okay?"

Ambrose shook his head very slowly.

The man tried again. "I'm the new D.A.R.E officer assigned to the school. I just started today. Was trying to find my way to the assembly hall and I'm afraid I got turned around a bit."

Ambrose couldn't speak. He couldn't move. The shock of what just happened had almost completely frozen him to the floor.

One look at the boy's crestfallen face had Officer Cain guiltily running a hand through his white-blonde hair. "Hey, why don't you let me help you with that. Come on." He patted the kid lightly on the shoulder, snapping him out of his paralyzed daze. "Come on."

Ambrose followed the officer down to the ground floor where a gaggle of students had already gathered around, laughing and snickering behind their hands. Officer Cain looked at his watch. "Don't you all have classes to get to?" Whether it was the authoritative boom of his voice or the no nonsense arch of the eyebrow that convinced the crowd they had business elsewhere, soon the floor was deserted and Ambrose was on his knees sorting through the ruined box, picking out pieces of glass.

Officer Cain crouched next to him. "So, what was all this stuff, anyhow?"

Ambrose shrugged. "It was a chemistry experiment for the science fair tomorrow."

"Really? Doesn't look like your average state of the art volcano setup."

"I was replacing protein enzymes. Uh, chemically extracting the nutrients in vegetables and reproducing them in the form of a liquid. You know, your average state of the art quest to end world hunger setup. Volcanoes were second grade."

"Wow. I stand corrected."

Ambrose shrugged.

Cain tried again. "So, you think you can fix this up in time for tomorrow?"

Ambrose shrugged again. "Yeah, sure. IF I was Santa Claus and IF this was Christmas Eve and IF I could stop time long enough to jump down every chimney in the world. Sure."

"Sarcastic much, are we?"

Ambrose pulled a sodden and ruined display board out and looked at it forlornly. "When the situation demands it."

"Look, kid, I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. Let me make it up to you."

He looked up from the broken beaker he was examining, dull eyes partially hidden by his long black bangs and emanating that world weary brand of cynicism that only a fifteen year old that was too smart for his age could muster. "Yeah? How?"

"Well, let me buy you a milk shake."

Ambrose scoffed. "Whatever."

Cain smiled. "What's wrong with milk shakes?"

"Nothing, I just thought that ice cream parlors and soda shops went out of style with poodle skirts and sock hops. Guess I was wrong."

"Okay, no milk shake. Dinner then. My wife is making spaghetti tonight and let me tell you... meatballs like you wouldn't believe! She's a science teacher herself up at the college. I'm sure she would love to hear about your project. Think your parents would mind?"

"Parents wouldn't notice. They're dead."

Cain grimaced. He was certainly batting a thousand with this kid. He waited patiently while Ambrose seemed to weigh the offer in his mind and calculate pros and cons.

"I don't think Mrs. Jensen would mind having one less mouth to feed tonight. I accept your offer, Officer Cain."

Cain grinned. "Call me Wyatt." He held out a hand for the kid to shake.

"I'm Ambrose Wilson." His dark eyes flashed at the momentary expression on the older man's face.

Cain wisely chose to keep any comments on the old fashioned name to himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ambrose."

"Wish it were under different circumstances." After all that scavenging, he had grimly determined that not a damn thing was salvageable. He sighed as he began carrying the mess over to the nearest trash can. "If you really want to make it up to me, you can buy me a new chemistry set. I had to mow twenty lawns to pay for this one and it's well past mowing season now. Raking leaves doesn't garner nearly as much capital, so I won't be able to pay for a new one until spring."

Cain almost laughed, but he kept it in. The boy was so serious in his business transactions. It was charming. "Alright. I'll pick you up after school and we can go by the mall to pick it up before dinner. How's that sound?" The mess was as cleaned up as it was going to get. He'd have to find a janitor to do the mopping.

"That sounds fair. I have to get to class now. Good day, Officer Cain."

Cain could have been seeing things, but was that a ghost of a smile on the serious young man's face? Possibly. He watched him go, taking the stairs two at a time. One thing was for certain. He was an interesting kid to run into...

* * *

Present day...

"I hear you've been looking for me."

Glitch nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned behind him to look. There was a man in a long trench coat, reddish-blonde hair, cold cold eyes, cold as death, acne marked face... he looked familiar. It clicked.

"Zero!"

"What can I do for you?"

Glitch looked around. There were people everywhere, dancing, swaying. Music was deafening and smoke clogged the air, lights flashed all the brilliant colors of the rainbow. Realization dawned on him and his hands began to shake harder. He was at the club. The Stardust. How did he get here? Hadn't he been in an alley just seconds before? Sweat rolled down the side of his face and he struggled to keep from dropping into a hyperventilating panic attack.

"I haven't got all day, headcase. What do you want?"

"Want? Want? What do I want?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

"Need.... Need to need to... to get more."

"More. You need some more Erebus?"

"Yes, that... please? I have money..." Glitch fished in his pockets and held out a bundle of carefully folded bills. "Please..."

Zero grabbed the money and Glitch flinched, his entire body stiffening with fright. Zero counted the bills quickly, then stuffed them into his own pocket. He pulled out a package and handed it over, eyes darting to the left and right.

Glitch opened it and looked inside. "Wait... this isn't... this isn't enough... not enough. I paid you..."

"Shut the hell up! I know how much you paid me, but the price went up."

"But... I can't make any more money, I need this stuff."

"Listen, you little shit bag. This 'stuff' is kind of a hot commodity and there are hundreds of people who don't mind paying full price for it, so if you don't want my product..."

"No! No, no, no, no! I need it... I need it..."

"Good. I'm glad we see eye to eye. Now, seeing as you were kind enough to design the drug in the first place..." Zero laughed, a nasty, ugly sound. "And that we have such a long history together, I've only jacked the price twenty five percent for you. Be grateful you aren't paying fifty, like every one else."

"I'm grateful... I'm grateful... I am... thank you, Zero."

"That's right. You better be happy I don't have you licking my boot, you pathetic waste of space." Zero turned to look at his posse of goons. "Somebody get this shit for brains out of my club."

Glitch cried out in pain as rough hands grabbed him by the arms. His skin felt like it was on fire and the added pressure was agony to his already pain-wracked body. He was dragged to a side door and thrown to the ground. He tumbled and bounced over the curb and into the puddle of rain water that had flooded over the gutter.

Glitch clutched the package in aching hands like a life preserver. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a syringe. His hands shook while he pulled a vial out of the package, uncapped the syringe, filled it with the clear liquid. His whole body was shaking, the pain was unbearable! He had to be careful how much he filled it with. Just enough... just enough... just enough to make the pain go away, no more. It had to last. He carefully tapped the air bubbles out, stabbed the needle through his jeans and into his thigh.

It wasn't as good as taking the time to find a vein, but in his condition, the alternative would have been hopeless. He wouldn't have been able to hold steady long enough to inject a vein, even if he could find a convenient one that hadn't collapsed already. You didn't get as much of a rush when you injected into the muscle, but it made the pain go away and that was all that mattered.

He carefully placed the package into the pocket of his coat and rolled over, onto his back, face turned towards the sky. Raindrops hit his face like a soothing balm to wash away the fire. He didn't care that his clothes were soaked through or that he lay in a muddy puddle in an alleyway outside of a nightclub. His tortured and abused mind and body cared about one thing only...

Relief...

* * *

Three years ago...

Officer Cain leaned against his patrol car. He sat in the parking lot watching the front door of the school. The last of the wave of high school kids had long since made for the hills, but no Ambrose. He looked at his watch and sighed. Finally, the doors opened and there was the silent kid with the funny name, the floppy bangs and the world weary eyes.

Cain smiled. "Didn't think you were going to show."

Ambrose readjusted his backpack on his shoulder. The thing looked like it weighed more than he did. "Yeah, well, I didn't think you were going to hang around. Guess we're even."

"So, you were... what? Testing me?" Cain took Ambrose's bag and set it in the trunk next to the bullet proof vest and riot gear.

"Giving you an opportunity to rethink a previous ill-informed and rash spur of the moment offer that was brought about by a sense of guilt and misplaced pity and/or sympathy."

"Is that the text book terminology for me offering you dinner?"

"Dinner's fine. Chemistry set is expensive."

"How steep we talking?"

"About five hundred dollars, less a penny for manipulative consumerism advertising and given about eight percent government payroll tax that is supposedly ear-marked for important things like schools and education but is in actuality only ever going to be used the next time they vote to give themselves a pay raise. Roughly five thirty nine eighty. Give or take."

Cain nodded, sagely taking it all in. "That's a pretty nice chem set."

"Yeah. One of the better ones. But if you're going to spend the money, you may as well pay for the better quality. Cheap is shit."

"Damn straight, kid. Just watch the swearing."

Ambrose grinned.

* * *

Present day...

Time had no meaning for Glitch. He drifted in and out of painful consciousness and blissful darkness. It wasn't until an uncomfortably bright flash of light seared his eyes that he began to wonder why he was laying in a puddle of water. He lifted his aching head and groaned. Every muscle in his body was stiff and sore and his mouth was dry. His throat burned with thirst. He sat up, struggled to his feet. His clothes were soaked through and covered in mud, but physically he seemed fine.

A sudden thought struck him and his eyes flew wide in panic. His fingers frantically dug in his pocket and he sighed in relief when they played over the package. He flinched at the sudden stabbing pain at his finger and he pulled his hand out. He'd accidentally jabbed himself on the syringe he had carelessly stuffed into his pocket. Blood welled up on the tip of his finger and his first instinct was to wipe it clean with his shirt. That was not going to happen. He was absolutely covered in muddy, dirty water. Absently, he began to suck on his wounded finger while he began to try and figure out where exactly he ended up.

Glitch looked around. He was in an alley way somewhere. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't remember it for the life of him. A high pitched scream assailed his ears and he flinched, tensing, every ounce of instinct in him telling him to run away, but something drew him forward. Men were shouting and the scream continued. Glitch jogged forward until he could peer around the corner.

Three of Zero's goons were tormenting a little eight year old girl in a bright red dress. One of them was gripping her cruelly by the wrist and she was screaming, clearly terrified. Far more terrified than Glitch was and he was quite literally shaking in his boots.

Swallowing the icy lump of fear in his throat, he stepped forward, voice bolder than he felt. "Let her go."

The three men in the long coats looked up and laughed. The ring leader chuckled and his grip loosened just enough for the girl to slip away and run behind her rescuer. "Well, if it isn't Zero's pretty headcase. Come to pay your respects, dog?"

The other two began circling.

Glitch backed up. The little girl thankfully seemed to have enough sense to back up with him. "Don't you guys have better things to do than to frighten little kids? Or is that all you re good at?"

"Tough words. I look forward to ramming them down your throat. As soon as Zero loses interest in you, I'll be ramming lots of things down your throat, so you better start getting used to it. Wouldn't want you to choke."

Something clicked into place in Glitch's head. Sam. The man's name was Sam. He never graduated from High School. He d been suspended for beating a boy half to death in the bathroom. Rumors had circulated about other things, too. Especially after the boy had committed suicide a week later.

"Funny. I always heard you were too small to choke on."

The two goons on the side both laughed. The one in the center sneered. "Laugh it up while you can, pretty boy. Just you wait."

Glitch continued to back down the alleyway, eyes tracking movements from all three of them. They didn't seem to be threatening harm just now, but he didn't turn his back until they had reached the main street. He held out his hand and the little girl took it, holding onto him tightly. With one last glance at the three shadows at the end of the alley, Glitch turned and began walking as fast as the little girl could keep up with.

They had gone five or six blocks with Glitch flinching and twitching and turning to look behind them every ten seconds or so. Finally he let himself relax a bit. He looked down at the pale little girl he had rescued. Her long black hair was starting to tangle, but it looked as if it had been neatly brushed that morning and tied with white ribbon. Her blue eyes were impossibly wide as she took in every detail of their surroundings.

"That was scary, huh?"

The girl flinched and looked up at him. Apparently she was just as jumpy as he was. That was pretty sad.

"I'll tell you a secret. I was scared too."

The little girl didn't say anything. She only nodded.

"Do you have a name? Mine's Glitch."

The girl nodded.

"You gonna tell me what it is?"

She shook her head. Glitch bit his lip, face twisting as he struggled to think. Thinking made his head hurt worse.

"How am I going to help you find your parents if you don't tell me your name?"

The little girl sighed and looked away.

"You do have parents, right?"

The girl thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Don't you think they'll be missing you?"

The girl shook her head.

"Why not?"

The girl looked at him with her big blue eyes and Glitch got the message. Yes or no questions only, just now, please, thank you.

"Alright. Okay. Umm. Hmm. Well, I can't exactly take you home with me, doll..."

She clutched at his hand painfully hard and Glitch winced.

"Okay, umm. Do you know of anywhere else I could take you? A grandma? An aunt?"

A sad shake of the head and a pleading look.

"You don't live in an orphanage, do you?"

Her head tilted to the side, confused.

"Never mind. Those are nasty places, anyhow. They feed you regular, and give you a bed, but it's no place to write home about. Do you know where your home is?"

Another head shake.

"Doll, I gotta tell you, my home isn't any place to bring a pretty little girl like you. It's not even a home! It's a warehouse! You'd hate it!"

The girl stopped walking. Glitch stopped, too. He looked everywhere but at her, trying, struggling, to get his brain to make a connection, praying for one synapse to fire out an idea. What do normal people do with lost little girls when they find them? Eventually, he looked down at her again.

She was sad. And miserable. And hopeful. And scared. And very, very alone. Yes, Glitch knew a thing or two about what people looked like when they had nobody in the world to hold onto. She had found a hand to hold and she didn't want to give it up for anything. He knew something about that too...

One last try, just for the sake of trying. "There are rats. Great big ones."

The girl shrugged.

"Alright. I give in. You can come stay at my place, but don't say I didn't warn you. And if a rat comes to nibble your toes off in the middle of the night, don't come crying to me."

The girl smiled and Glitch's heart melted. They began walking again.

Now if only he could remember how to get there...

* * *

TBC