Summary: Arturo hates being the youngest member of the gang and wants to prove he's every bit as hardcore and street wise as Ace and Snake. Too bad pulling off risky shit by yourself on the streets only looks easy in the movies.

Chapter warnings: Arturo centric. Some violence, language, drugs but only one instance of actual use towards the end, some bonding between Snake and Arturo. Set 2 years after the canon time line, no universe/character changes except for that.

.

.

It was late February and Townsville was slowly waking up bit by bit from the winter lull. The street sweepers were up and running, shops were cleaning out to get ready for new stock, and street walkers were starting to poke their heads out from wherever they'd holed up during the cold months.

Arturo was doing the same, the winter had been a bitch and the gang's shack had started to feel cramped. Today was the first day of the year warm enough to go out without a coat and he'd bolted at the first chance for a little fresh air and elbow room.

And 'first chance' meant the second Ace and Snake were out of sight when they'd taken off to try and hustle some cash or lift from one of the stores while the employees were too busy moving products for spring. He wasn't technically supposed to be out on his own, something that had been driving him up the wall more and more these days. He was sixteen now and sure his hight hadn't gotten any better, but dammit he thought the age should've counted for something.

But Ace and Snake still treated him the same, still the 'baby' of the gang age wise and it wasn't fair. Both of them had been out on the street when they were younger than him, alone with nobody to watch their backs until they found each other. He was just as street wise as they were- they'd taught him, they should know he'd be fine. If he wanted to walk down Trade Street by himself then he should be able to. He didn't need them to babysit him anymore.

At least that's what he told himself when he got to the end of Trade. Passed the boulevard was a gray area they just called 'No Man's Land', two city blocks that separated downtown from the eastern projects- but more importantly, separated the Gangreen from another group.

Normally the in between was safe, but then again, the rest of the guys were normally with him.

Arturo jogged across the road anyway, dodging between cars idling in the rush hour grid lock. He wouldn't take long, just troll around for a minute and head to the dump before Ace and Snake got back.

He'd managed the first block just fine before he saw their reflections in a store window. There was only two, skulking in the alleys, trying to look inconspicuous like the ugly purple bandannas weren't a dead giveaway. Seriously who thought florescent purple that was bright enough to give even Lisa Frank a headache would be a good color to fly for a gang? One even had his hair streaked with it and Arturo had to wonder how the shit hadn't burned though his skull.

For a second Arturo thought about trying to lose them in the storage lot across the street, he was fast enough, he knew the labyrinth of little garages well enough to do it. But no, he wasn't going to run. They looked new, fumbling around and knocking into trash cans like they didn't know the area. He could take them. Easy.

He ducked into the next alley he walked passed like he'd been taught. "Never out in the open, keep it on the down low, got it?" was what Ace had always said, told him that getting caught for legit gang activity would get them more than a Puff beating and an overnighter in jail. So he did everything by his boss's unwritten book. Checked that there were no windows, no bums hanging around, stood in the middle of the alley so he'd have room to move, faced the front and waited.

The two rounded the corner,all arrogant swagger and talking way too loud.

"What's your moldy, chicken nugget sized ass doin' out here?"

"Haven't heard that one yet." Arturo made himself sound casual, like being out numbered didn't bother him at all, like it didn't even blip on his radar. "I'm just out for the weather."

"Without your boys?" The one with the dye in his hair took a few more steps in, the fake, mocking concern grating. "Little dangerous for you to be all alone out here ain't it?"

"Me? Nah. You two..? You fucked up."

He couldn't meet them grille-to-grille, but the hight difference wouldn't be a problem for long, he knew how to compensate. It was easy to get in range, they obviously didn't know what they were doing, they couldn't land a hit on him and stumbled and floundered when they tried to get a kick in.

One tried to punt him and over shot, flailing comically as he tried to keep his balance. Arturo ducked under him, sharply nailing his elbow into the guy's groin and sending him to the ground with a shrill yell.

"Sounds like your balls ain't even dropped." Arturo mocked the crumpled heap.

The other rushed him swinging a wide kick that caught the green teen on the side of his neck and jaw. But it was misplaced enough that it didn't outright bowl him over. Arturo grabbed the still raised leg and shoved. The boy tap danced backwards and toppled, purple head smacking onto the dirty concrete.

Perfect, Arturo was good at the ground game, it was the only chance he got to go for shots at someone's face.

Before the clown haired little shit could shake off the fall Arturo was on him, one knee pushing down on his windpipe and raining down haymakers, wanting to make his face match his hair. He got in some good hits, blood flying out of the guy's mouth, the satisfying 'crunch' when he hit his nose just right, and the eyebrow piercing coming away with one of the blows before his new punching bag got his second wind. The kid grabbed a fistful of black hair and rolled, pitching them both sideways and knocking Arturo off.

This was the downside to taking a fight to the ground, worrying about getting flipped and pinned. But the wannabe was inexperienced and Arturo had been scrapping and wrestling around with the guys for years. He went for the eyes, got some jabs in , and rammed his fingers into the hallow of the other's throat. The second the body on top of him let up enough for him to get his shoulders up off the ground Arturo reared back and head butt the guy right in his already broken nose.

The kid hollered and fell back on his ass, curling on his side and making noises like a kicked dog. Off to the side the other one was still holding his crotch, wheezing and blubbering and not going anywhere any time soon.

Feeling like a self satisfied asshole with his victory, Arturo started looting their pockets- to the winner the spoils and all that crap, right? Loose bills that might be enough to get the gang some dollar menu burgers if he could figure out a lie about how he got the cash. Some gum, lint, cell phones he was definitely taking with him- one even had his charger with him-, gas station receipts, and..

It was on the one he'd elbowed in the jewels, a little zip-lock bag like spare buttons or small parts for electronics came in. The plastic belly was full of fine white powder.

He cracked the seal, licked the tip of his finger, and dipped it in. He spit as soon as it touched his tongue. Yeah, that shit wasn't sugar.

Hard drugs? In Townsville?

There'd been rumors about the man that headed the group in the projects. That he was from Citiesville, crossed the bridge when he couldn't stake a claim on his mother soil. But to bring this kind of shit over was news.

He looked down at the baggie, to the mouth of the alley, to the two what he guessed were newbie mules, and back to the bag. "Ace would kill me. Straight up murder me in cold blood if he knew I even touched this."

But what if they could sell it? Get some food money out of it? He could hide it in the dump on his way back, somewhere they hung around a lot, and pretend to find it in full view of the boss man. The rest would be up to Ace, but it was worth a shot, right?

"It'll work. Ace won't find out." He told himself and shoved the zip-lock along with the cell phones and cash in his pockets.

.

.

Back in the dump he hid the blow in the drawer of a beat to hell office desk just off their walking trail to the trash compactor. Next time they passed it he planned to climb on it like he usually did and 'accidentally' kick the drawer out and find the bag.

As he made a beeline for the shack he tried to think of a way to convince the others not to rat him out for taking off. Billy would vouch for him if he could keep from telling Ace and Snake he was hiding something from them. Or he could just tell the big guy he hadn't left the dump at all and he'd probably believe him. Grubber was a whole different ballgame. He'd warned Arturo about going out in the first place and when he saw the bruises on his knuckles he would definitely want to tell Ace and Snake.

Maybe he could bribe him with those fancy crosswords from the bookstore he liked so much. Hard to steal, but it would be worth it if it worked.

He'd just about had it all polished and figured out by the time the shack came into view- and his gut twisted.

Snake was sitting on the front steps, arms folded across his knees as he took hards draws on the cigarette between his black lips.

Feeling like he was walking the green mile he dragged his feet all the way to the bottom of the steps, the older gangster staring him down the whole time.

Snake took the dying breath of the cig and blew the smoke out his nose, making him look dragon-like and scary as hell. "Where were youss?"

It wouldn't do him any good to lie. Worth a shot anyways.

"Just took a walk around the block. You think you's the only one that hated winter, Snake?" He tried to be casual, like it was no big deal and he wasn't ready to run with his tail between his legs as he walked passed the other teen. He didn't even make it within arms reach of the door before a hand was on his shoulder, squeezing with the strength it was easy to forget Snake had.

The older gangreen was standing now, curved posture straightening, needle-like fangs bared. And with his rail thin body hidden from the chill by jeans and a thick hoodie, he looked a hell of a lot more intimidating than he normally would. It was common knowledge Snake had a built in bullshit meter and Arturo knew he was getting the 'beep-beep-beep-liar-red light- LIAR'.

"You wanna tryss that again? Maybe with the truth thisss time?"

"It was nothin'-"

"Your face iss a messs." Snake hissed, tongue flickering out with irritation, "You wanna tell me that'sss 'nothing'?"

Arturo rubbed at his cheek and yup there was dirt on it from the the kid's shoe. The tenderness probably meant a bruise too. Great.

"It was a quick fight, nothin' serious, I swear." God, he hated the way he sounded, like damn kid defending a playground scrap to their mom.

Snake's lips thinned, shoulders tensing. "You got jumped?"

"No." Scrambling to stop Snake from freaking out Arturo's mouth jumped ahead before he really knew what was coming out of it. "I mean they were stalkin' me down East Avenue, but it ain't like they were good at it- I knew they were there. I lead 'em down an alley and was over in like two minutes and they barely touched me."

He didn't notice his friend had paled about three shades until it had all spilled out.

"Wait, you- oh my Godsss.." Snake let go of Arturo's shoulder to light up another cigarette, hot boxing it for a few inhales like he was taking his frustration out on the thing. "You left the sshack. You crosssed the terf boarder. You sset up a fight you were out numbered in insstead of getting the hell out of theres. And don't you dare lie to me and ssay you couldn't, I sshowed you every way out of No Man'ss mysself. And you pulled all thiss sshit alone. What the fuck, Arturo?"

"Snake, dammit, I'm sixteen!"

Snake's teeth visibly grit on his smoke, slit eyes getting hard and narrow. " 'Sscusse me?"

Right, okay, Snake had his second-in-command vibe going on today and he apparently wasn't putting up with any shit.

Arturo tried to bite back on his anger. "I don't need a babysitter. I beat their asses. Isn't that good enough for you?"

"Okay, lemme assk you ssomethingss." Snake jabbed the cigarette like an accusing finger, "Ssay they actually knew what they were doing, or there were more. Then whatss? We wouldn't know where you were- it never crosssed my mind you'd go to No Man'ss. You could've been dying sssomewhere and we wouldn't know."

Taking another hard draw, Snake's tense shoulders slowly dropped, like he was exhaling his anger with the smoke. "Do you get what I'm ssaying?"

I get you think I didn't know all that already like I'm a fucking idiot. But he'd knocked heads enough with the guy for one day, so he kept that to himself. "Si, I get it."

"Okayss," Snake inclined his head to the flimsy, plywood door, "get in, we brought food."

" 'Ey, Snake?" Arturo looked back with his hand on the door knob. "You gonna tell Boss?"

"Nopess." The second in command's sharp nailed hand covered his and opened the door for him. "You are."

Ace was at the head of the card table, nails drumming on the wood and looking all sorts of pissed off. "Where the fuck you been?"

Shiiiit

.

.

The gang didn't really have any kind of punishment system other than knocking each other around, but Arturo was pretty sure he was as close to 'grounded' as they could manage.

Ace and Snake stuck close to the gang after the whole fiasco. And when the gang did go out they kept a close eye on everyone. The younger three couldn't even go out an goof off in the dump by themselves without getting tailed.

That went on for three weeks and it was like the winter all over again. Everyone strung out and aggravated from the stress of being cooped up. Then finally- finally - Ace let them all go back to normal.

In the weeks climbing through March Arturo kept his mouth shut about the cocain in the desk. He'd check on it, make sure a roving bum hadn't found it, but he never 'found it' in front of the guys or told anyone about it. After the unholy chew out he'd gotten for bailing and the weeks that came after, it just never seemed like the right time.

Then one of the phones he'd jacked from those purple mules got a text. He only played on the thing in the wee hours of the morning when the gang slept. The other one had died a day after he'd taken it and a little pick-pocketing lie later, he'd given it to Ace to pawn off. This one though, the one with the charger, he'd kept for himself. Sticking the charger into the only plug-in outlet in the shack and playing the downloaded games on mute. When he'd turned it on this time there was an immediate 'new message' notification.

"its SNOWING on oak st lol - from UNKNOWN number"

At first he didn't get it. It was almost April now and it was in the 50s outside, they hadn't seen snow or even sleet in almost a month. Then it hit him, they were talking about the other kind of 'snow'.

Now he was faced with what to do about it. It wasn't like he could tell Ace, he'd be outting himself. Even if he 'found' the baggie in front of them and somehow convinced them to go to Oak Street, whoever texted him would be long gone. Or worse, still there and then run their mouth about the text and he'd be screwed.

So he had two options: he could ignore the message and wait like he'd planned or he could make the sale himself.

He knew where the street was, it was just down from Pokey Oaks. And the guys had only been asleep for about an hour, they wouldn't even roll over until noon. Deals were quick, he'd be gone and back long before then.

He could finally get rid of the bag, make some food money.. and maybe a small part of him wanted to spite Ace and Snake for everything that had been going on and just prove- if only to himself- that he could do it.

.

.

Okay 50 degrees had been an exaggeration. It may not have been cold enough to snow, but it was cold enough that Arturo was freezing his green ass off as he cut through the Pokey Oak's playground.

It was right at dawn and since Townsville didn't start bustling until around nine am. he was the only one roaming the streets. Well, him and the man sitting at the Oak Street bus stop- where the bus didn't run for another two hours.

Arturo checked, and double checked, and just for good measure, checked one more time to make sure there wasn't another living soul on Oak Street other than the two of them. There wasn't so he shuffled over and took a seat on the edge of the bus stop bench.

The man side-eyed him for a few minutes before sticking a cigarette between his scarred lips. "Colder'n a penguin's frosty ass out here, ain't it?"

Huh, Yellow Bands, the same kind Snake smoked. Fuck, if he knew he was out here..

"Ye, cold enough to snow."

The silence stretched for a second as the guy puffed. "Wasn't expecting you to be so short, they got kids runnin' this shit now?"

Yeah, really not what he wanted to hear right now.

"I'm older than I look. "Arturo snapped and hopped off the bench, "We doin' this or am I walkin'?"

Now the guy got with the program, "No no no! Wasn't tryin' to piss you off, I was just checkin', ya know? I mean, I was lookin' for purple, not green."

"Call it an upgrade." He didn't really have any right to be waving his green pride around right now considering he was tap dancing all over one of the only rules Ace had ever lain down behind the gang's backs, but this stranger didn't need to know that.

"As long as you got what I need, I can be color blind." Heaving off the bench the man walked to the alley just behind the bus stop. "I got a barrel fire over here."

As Arturo followed he tried to think of every bad cop movie he'd ever watched, trying to think of what to say, what to do. He at least knew enough to make sure they were the only two in the alley, not be the first to show his hand, waits until he sees the money. It's all going smooth and for a second he thinks this is all there is to it and everything's good-

Until it's not.

"I just need one more thing, just-. No disrespect. Honest. It's- I don't know you and I've never heard of you guys sellin' before and I just need to know it ain't a dirty product."

There's a nagging in the back of Arturo's mind. That, no, this scarred lipped, wax skinned stranger had no right to be asking for anything. He lets it slide anyway.

Stupid

When he says okay the mangy junkie gets kid-in-a-candy-store happy, scampering around like the rats under their feet to get what he needed. There's a belt, a rusted spoon, dented up water bottle that Arturo would bet the four dollars in the bottom of his shoe was filled with gutter run off, a lighter.. and a syringe. He didn't know the ins and outs of this whole thing, but Arturo was pretty damn sure the rust on the spoon and the tinted water just put this bad idea into pop-rocks and coke territory.

Arturo at least had enough hold on the situation to negotiate that he be the one to load the spoon, keeping the baggie with him and away from the buyer since he still didn't have his money.

"Hurry up, I got places to be." he grouched as he handed over the spoon. The longer this dragged on the more paranoid he was getting, the more chance there was of one of one of the guys waking up and noticing they were down a man.

His paranoia must have been contagious because the man started getting twitchy, getting more water on his jeans then on the spoon when he tried to tip the bottle. Or maybe it was lottery winning excitement of getting his fix.

"Won't take long." the man said, flicking the lighter to life and holding the flame under the spoon, "Just gotta let the sauce cook a minute."

Arturo was too busy watching the mix bubble to notice he was being watched too.

"First time, kid?"

Again with the 'kid' shit. "Do I look like I hang around watchin' strangers play Cooking Mama with cocaine?"

The lighter flicked off and the man fiddled with the needle. "Meant if this is the first time ever shootin' up."

Arturo's not proud of how long it takes for the question to make sense and when it does his chest goes tight in panic. This whole time he man hadn't been asking if he could sample.

Stupid stupid stupid

"It won't be much, not even a full hit- not even half." the addict's babbling, terrified of scaring the teen off, "I just have to know you're willing to take it too so I know it ain't tainted. Like in the movies ya know? They make someone else take a sip of the drink so they know it ain't poison?"

Yeah and that was part of the problem, he didn't know if the shit was clean. And if it was before, it probably wasn't anymore with the rust and dirty water it got cooked in. Now would have been a good time to red light the bastard and get the hell out of dodge. But he's so close to actually pulling this off and lets his need to prove make him stupid.

Arturo holds his hand out for the belt.

He didn't know what he was doing and he's awkward with it, but if tv was anything to go on he knew he needed it tight enough to get a clear shot at his veins. He fiddles with the faded buckle, trying not to watch when syringe get loaded up because damn this feels all kinds of wrong, and tries to tell himself he's overreacting. It's just a prick, and as for the drug, millions of people do it every day, he'll be fine.

Stupid stupid stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

He doesn't watch when the needle sinks into his arm, just grits his teeth and counts because the weight of the situation is finally hitting him and he wants to run which isn't really an option anymore. The man takes the buckle from his clenched fist and when he lets the loop go loose Arturo finally looks.

The shit inside the syringe was brown.

It shouldn't be brown. Why was it brown-

He doesn't know if it's the sudden animal terror of realizing what he'd just let get shot into his blood was tainted or the drug itself, but he's suddenly viciously sick. When he went to sit down it felt like going through a corkscrew on a rollercoaster, world going vertigo around him. Everything was too fast and too slow at the same time, making him motion sick while lying still.

Lying? Yeah. Yeah, he was down with his cheek on the pavement. He didn't know how he'd got there, with his head buzzing like a beehive it was hard to keep track of what was going on.

It was too much, too fast, everything getting twisted and warped in his head. He was scared.

"You could've been dying sssomewhere and we wouldn't know. Do you get what I'm ssaying?"

Now he did and it was too late to do him any good; he'd already fucked up, already went and done what Snake had been so afraid of happening.

He gets halfway through last ditch a prayer for his life before he blacks out.

.

.

When Arturo woke up there was no good morning sunshine, bright eyed and bushy tailed bullshit coming from his body. There was a burning ache all over, from the roots of his hair down to his feet. Skin felt like shrink wrap, mouth was dry with a taste on the back of his tongue like he'd licked the inside of an ashtray, and more or less felt like he'd been been thrown in a blender.

It feels like there's sludge in his skull instead of a brain and it takes him what feels like an eternity to get a grip on anything. Then he remembers the junkie. The needle. Shooting up with dirty cocaine like a fucking idiot..

He's sort of hoping to pass out again so he doesn't have to face what he's done, but the world starts coming into focus whether he likes it or not.

The room is irritatingly white and there's an annoying beeping coming from a machine he guesses is part of the little thing clamped around his finger. A heart monitor. He was in Townsville Mercy Hospital.

He had to wonder who'd found him, he didn't think a civilian would have bothered with someone like him and since there weren't any cuffs on his wrists he ruled out cops. Maybe his buyer had a bleeding heart?

Had the guys been told? A bitter part of him wondered if they cared after this mess. God, he hoped they did..

For a while he just sat there on the bed and drowned in the guilt. He'd pulled a lot of crap in his life: theft, assault and battery, breaking and entering, grand theft auto- well he'd been a passenger anyway-, vandalism, the list went on. But this was a whole different level. He felt like he'd betrayed the guys- hell he had, he'd done it out of spite for Ace and Snake actually giving a damn about him.

He hoped they still cared, but he honestly wouldn't blame them if they didn't, if they kicked him out- if they hadn't already. Nobody had ever been booted before, but he seemed to be having a lot of firsts in the last few months.

It was that thought that made him move. He had to go to the dump, had to make sure. The machines went wild when he took the clip thing off his finger but he planned to be out of here before any nurses showed up- or it was the plan until he realized he was wearing one of those paper gown things.

There was a little sliding closet across the room maybe there was some spare scrubs in there. Or hopefully his actual clothes-

The door clicked open and, "The hell'sss all the noisse-? What are you doing up?"

And Arturo just stared like a deer in headlights, the rush of relief and hope shorting him out. Because Snake was here. He wouldn't be here if he didn't still care, right?

"Arturo?" After just being stared at Snake snaps his fingers a few times. "Heys, you with me?"

"Si." As hard as it was for him to believe. " 'M here."

Snake didn't look impressed. "Uh-huh. Well, howss about you get your mcnugget asss back in bed anywayss until sssomeone tellss uss you're not going to keel over."

For once, Arturo didn't fight Snake bossing him around- doubted he'd complain about it for a long, long time.

He'd gotten about halfway up before a nurse came scurrying in to silence the screeching monitor and got a long lecture for being up and taking off the sensor. She didn't stay long though; kept her distance the whole time, constantly glancing at Snake where he leaned against the wall like she was ready to bolt out the door in a heartbeat if he even breathed wrong. But before she left she did end up telling them that Arturo was fine and could leave when all the 'legalities' checked out.

"She was friendly." Arturo snorted.

Snake looks smug and shrugs his thin shoulders. "We haven't exactly been making friendsss. They kept trying to make sstuff complicated with legal bullssshit, Ace and me jusst told'em what we thought about itss."

Yeah, he could just imagine the two of them cussing, snarling, probably throwing one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs around.

"Ssshe had a point though. You didn't know if you were okay or not, you could've cracked your sskull open or ssomething when you got up. What were you doing anywayss?"

Arturo didn't want to kill the calm mood by saying 'Leaving to make sure you wasn't going to abandon me.', so he settled for half the truth. "Lookin' for some actual pants."

"Don't blame you there, your asss iss hanging out in that johnny." Snake laughed as he pushed off the wall, walking over to the bed. "But, Ace grabbed you ssome when they let him out of jail thiss morning. He's at the front dessk terrorizing the sstaff, but he'll be in here in a sssec."

"Jail?" It wasn't hard to believe, but the thing was that he'd never gotten booked without the rest of them before. "What'd he do?"

Snake's black lips thinned and he leaned his hip against the bed, half sitting beside him. "He almosst beat a junkie half to death on Oak Sstreet."

Oh

"Wasn't no 'almost' about it." Ace cut in from the doorway, sounding like a right satisfied asshole as he kicked the door shut behind him. "Fucker's in ICU over in Citiesville- wouldn't be 'half' either if they didn't transfer him before I got out for- what'd they call it, Snake?"

"Acquitted for sself defensse by proxy." Snake claps a hand on the younger gangreen's shoulder. "They ssaid they wouldn't rule it ass asssault because he was protecting you when you couldn't."

Looking down at Ace's bruised, busted open knuckles Arturo had the insane urge to cry and laugh at the same time. He'd made the worst decision of his life and Ace had spilled blood and gotten locked up defending him anyway.

"Wasn't just me though." Ace shoots a fanged grin at Snake. "But I took all the credit so Snake could come here with you."

Okay, Arturo was really considering crying. "Guys, I'm sorry-"

Ace stops him by dropping a hole riddled grocery bag with his clothes in it on his lap. "We'll talk about all that later, alright?"

"You're not mad?"

"We're furiousss." Snake squeezes his shoulder, so grounding and almost gentle that Arturo could almost think of it as a one armed hug. "But it can wait. We're jussst glad you're okayss."

"One thing that can't wait, though, is us gettin' a move on." Ace said over them from where he'd walked across the room and pried open the window.

"Grubber and Billy already in the parking lotss?" Snake more or less hauls Arturo off the bed because he has no idea what the two of them are going on about.

"Told'em to to head out after the nurse said he was awake."

Hopping on one foot to get his other pant leg on, Arturo tries to hurry as Snake vaults over the ledge and hears the clang of sneakers on a fire escape. "What are we doing again? I'm lost."

Ace heaves himself over, keeping himself there by the inside frame. "Jumpin' out the window before the docs catch on that we're skippin' out on your bill." And then he drops.

Damn he loved them, he really really did.

.

.

Author's Note:
This is something I wrote in early 2012 and rewrote/revised through a lot of trial and error just for this collection.