Many MANY apologies for the lateness *checks last update* shit it was in June - my god I am terrible at this T_T

I had so much trouble and was back and forthing between two different concepts before I decided that the original was too long and no one likes being stuck in backstory longer than necessary so I scrapped that and came up with this. It's not shortened per se, just blended together :) Saying that there will be one more chapter of backstory...

In related news got way too excited this week after finding out the clue bottles are returning in Sly 4! I cannot wait, and the previews look amazing 3 They're infuriating as Hell, but I do love hunting around for them - even if after a while you're hearing the tink-tink noise they made everywhere (even after you've switched the game off xD)

So once again many apologies - thanks for all the great reviews and the favourites and I hope you like this chapter!

Luvablenerd: Gah i'm glad you enjoyed the backstory! I wasn't sure if it would be boring or overused - considered I took some inspiration from a scene in another fic called Trust Me - I like the idea of Soul being all 'I hate rich people and shit' xD

Haru-kaede: Ikr? Everyone needs a good lovable rogue thief story xD And since the SE archive is so small here it's perfect! I'm glad you like Soul as the lead, there just isn't enough of him out there xD

Clexausic: lol xD I didn't even know they were a band - I just took a lyric of So Scandelous cos it had been in my head for ages - I do also love the sort of cool, aloof yet derpy aspects of Soul's personality and hoping to stick to that as close as possible ^^ And I have many a wicked plan for Medusa... putting her in a position where she is the authority is just too much fun :D How Soul meets Black*Star will be in the next chapter which I hope everyone will like and I haven't decided on an idea for how Maka joins yet... hmm... waffles...

SecretiveLife: Thanks for your review! As for romance it is my sworn enemy (even though I love reading it)... I had enough trouble writing violence in this chapter xD Erm there may be hints but nothing full blown most likely - sorry T_T

On with the show!

Chapter III
An Aristocrat's Life Part II

3 years later

It was like any other day in Death City, sun shining, kids playing yada yada, Soul paid little attention as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Now technically he'd won the expensive item of clothing; the original owner however would disagree but let's not get into the minor details here. As nice as it was, an uncomfortable heat was pushing against the back of his neck which Soul futilely attempted to get rid of with a rub of his hand, which to his disdain, was starting to feel a little like jelly. Soul would never admit that he was nervous though, he was far too cool to act like some sort of pansy who couldn't hold his own. However the people he was avoiding like the plague might not be so unwilling to show they're true feelings.

At the age of fifteen Soul was as good as any other misfit, self-taught thief that hung around Death City, taking on jobs with sometimes nasty repercussions. Over the past three years, the white-haired teen had been around, occasionally satisfying his worryingly bad habit of stealing for a bit of cash or conning those who would attempt to exploit others. After all, it wasn't fun unless they deserved it. However it wasn't all Robin Hood, dashing around and stealing from the corrupt in a pair of green leggings – one poker game gone slightly wrong and he had managed to get himself noticed by less than friendly characters. It was a minor setback but with some luck and a lot of lying low, the whole thing would just blow over.

He was still living at his parents' house, under the watchful gaze of Wes, who after the initial incident at first became suspicious but then was forced to concentrate on his studies and violin lessons. As his thoughts turned to the past, Soul plucked a cigarette from the box in his left pocket and lit it with a cheap, plastic lighter. It was a bad habit he knew, and the only reason he was outside was because of his damn addiction, but as he felt the mix of deadly toxins working their way through his system and taking the edge off, he just couldn't bring himself to care.

That night three years ago had been the turning point, the pivotal moment where Soul began to question the uptight values he'd had ingrained into his brain since he was born. Where he should go, how he should dress, appropriate social behaviour – it all seemed so meaningless now. Call it teenage rebellion, puberty or whatever you like, the young boy had had enough of taking orders. It wasn't that easy though, along the way to enlightenment stood his big brother, fierce as ever with crossed arms and a disappointed scowl, just waiting to give another one of his speeches. But this time, his words would be falling on deaf ears.

It was the morning (well, afternoon) after the party. With a wounded pride more than anything, Soul idly tapped against the ivory keys of his favourite piano, safe in the comfort of knowing the little accessory that had caused such a dent in his ego was currently being pounded and smashed into tiny golden pieces. The piano's soothing rhythm was cut off with the abrupt opening of the large wooden doors and the subsequent tap of footsteps against the tiled floor. Soul never took his eyes off the piano and continued to play, even after the footsteps had stopped disturbingly close to his back.

"I know what you did." Wes's voice rang out as Soul's playing cut off. His hands paused over the keys, unable to decide the best action. "I'm not sure why, and I don't claim to understand the inner workings of your brain, but please Soul let me know this is an isolated incident." The brother in question gulped, fingers gently resuming their tapping before the lid was unceremoniously closed over them, just in time for Soul to snatch his fingers away and stare accusingly at Wes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Soul said with the best stony expression he could pull off.

"Is that so? Because there just happens to be an angry police officer who begs to differ."

"It was just a bit of fun." Soul finally answered.

"Fun? Do you know what would happen if mother and father found out?"

"You didn't tell them did you?" Even Soul didn't want to think about how his parents would react to his little exploit. Wes sighed, noticing the panic filtering into his brother's voice.

"No. I told them you'd eaten something bad and needed to rest. I think they believed me." There was a heavy silence before Soul spoke, eyes averted away.

"Thanks."

"Just… Promise me you won't rob unwitting party guests again – or anyone else for that matter."

"Yeah… I promise."

Lying to Wes was one of the hardest things Soul had ever had to do, especially after everything his brother had done for him. It still stung now to think about how Wes would smile and encourage him as if nothing was wrong, just the fact that he was still living at home was bad enough. Soul chuckled as he took a last puff of the cigarette before stamping it out on the cobbled street, remembering something Wes had said to him once.

"You know you could really use some friends of your own age." That's what he'd been advised. Soul guessed Wes was sick of the constant piano playing, or that fact that he had been outside so little lately that his complexion was beginning to match his hair.

"Like who?" Soul had asked, after all he wasn't exactly the biggest social butterfly.

"What about the Mayor's son? You two used to play when you were little." He'd laughed at that.

"You mean that weirdo with the stripy hair? Kid or something… He is impossible to hang out with; do you know how difficult it is to play with someone like that? Kid has some serious issues." Now Wes had laughed at that, commenting that they might have gotten along given half the chance. As if. Someone like that would completely cramp his cool image.

"Well look who it is." A mocking tone filled his ears as he was hauled none too gently back into the present.

Shit.

He supposed running would only make things worse. The white-haired teen looked up to where the voice had emerged from. Turns out he was standing outside one of those dark alleys usually found in bad cop shows, complete with rubbish bins, puddles and a rickety fire escape. Stood in the middle were four large guys possibly in their mid-twenties, hands in pockets save for one who was waving a bat around threateningly. The one in front brought a hand out, giving Soul the opportunity to glimpse a flash of metal that was the hidden blade.

"What's up?" Soul replied in a tone that betrayed his true feelings, trying desperately to stop his sudden sense of dread from showing on the outside.

"I think you have something that belongs to us."

"Hey I won this fair and square, not my fault you guys lost." Soul held his hands up in denial. Noting the anger on the leader's face, maybe antagonising them wasn't the best option. The leader nodded to something behind Soul and before he could turn his head to figure out what his arms had been grabbed roughly and he had been shoved to the ground. Soul looked up to be met with a large fist aimed at his cheek, the force jerking his whole body sideways as pain bloomed from his jaw. He was about to swear when the punch was following by a sharp kick to the gut that had him lying on his side and gasping for breath. Palms scraped against the rough ground, creating grazes that Soul didn't care to think about as he tried to pick himself up.

"YOU DO NOT. TRY. TO TRICK ME!" The brute shouted, punctuating each word with another kick to his stomach before sending his head slamming into the ground. Soul wheezed and coughed, droplets of blood splattering across the floor to his horror while he fought off the haziness entering his vision. He blinked and swore he saw the glint of the knife once more. His breath hitched as the cold steel pressed against his neck directly beneath his jaw, heart racing beneath a bruised ribcage. "Now what do you say?" The man hissed into his ear. Soul could do little more than groan and hold back a whimper that was inching its way up his throat as he felt warm blood sliding down his neck., trying to keep as still as possible. He shut his eyes tight and opened his mouth to speak.

"Six against one? That's not very fair now is it." The voice was not his but the teen didn't give it much thought as the pressure against the slowly deepening cut eased.

"Who the fuck are you supposed to be?" He heard the thug ask; Soul turned his head slightly and dared open his eyes a few millimetres, catching the blurry outline of someone stood against the opening of the alleyway. The voice chuckled in a slightly insane way.

"Who the fuck am I? Why, I'm just a passer-by, hoping to try out this lovely shiny steel pipe on someone who deserves it."

What the hell? Who did this guy think he was? Apparently some of the men must have thought him serious as the sudden fast footsteps told Soul of their immediate departure, only a couple remained.

"Fuckin' cowards, get him!" The leader thug screamed; the two in question made their way warily to the man and the subsequent dull thud of metal against flesh and the dark lumps falling against the ground told Soul that they were at least unconscious if not worse. The clang of the knife hitting the ground rang through Soul's ears as the leader backed up. The object in question had landed just in front of Soul's face, on impulse he stretched out his arm and grabbed it – jeez this was not what he was expecting to happen from a single poker game. There wasn't much he could do though and as blackness surrounded him, the last things he saw was the man who had come to his rescue kneeling next to him and inspecting the back of his head.

"Shit. Kid, can you hear me? Kid!" Well that can't be good, those were Soul's last thoughts as he finally accepted the call of unconsciousness and passed out.

The first thing that Soul felt was cold. Something was dabbing against the back of his head which, by the way, was pounding as if it had been slammed repeatedly against a hard surface. Oh wait, that actually happened. From what he could gather he was lying on his side on something soft, maybe a bed or sofa. The last thing he remembered was… Oh great, he'd been kidnapped by the creepy guy. Soul tried to move his arms only for his entire being to groan in protest.

"You probably shouldn't try to move right now." Soul opened his eyes, he was in a living room from what he could tell, lying on a strange patchwork sofa. The man appeared from beside the sofa, dropping what appeared to be a damp cloth into a bowl that was resting on the table in front of the sofa. "All cleaned up, and you only needed three stitches." He said, plopping down into the armchair opposite and putting his feet up on the table next to the bowl. He was wearing what appeared to be a lab coat, with unruly white hair and a thick scar running across his face. Was he a doctor or something? Out of all the questions running through his head at the moment, Soul thought he better start with a basic.

"Where am I?" He asked groggily.

"My lab. Not too far from your house." He answered, lazily lighting a cigarette and leaning back in the chair.

"Lab… so you're a doctor then?" He bloody well hoped so considering the man had put stitches in the back of his head. The man shrugged.

"Of sorts." Soul supposed that was the best answer he was going to get. As long as he didn't turn out to be Frankenstein or something. He was ready to ask another question when the man cut in.

"The question is, what did you do to piss of some Death City goons?" He inhaled the smoke, breathing it out slowly while he waited for Soul to reply.

"Game of poker gone wrong." He finally replied, going against the advice and lifting himself up so he was no longer lying on his side, rather resting against the back. The whole effort had reintroduced the pain that had eased since his last attempt, causing him to groan and mumble an ouch.

"Tried to cheat?" The man asked, eying Soul with a knowing smirk.

"That's none of your business." Soul replied, gingerly prodding the back of his head.

"So you did try to cheat." He chuckled, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Let me guess, you tried false dealing, but they grew suspicious." Soul remained silent; obviously the man took that as a yes. "A rookie error. The point is not to let them know what you're up to – after all if something's too good to be true it probably isn't."

"So you play cards?"

"Now and again." The man answered vaguely, giving away no emotions.

"You're a doctor, you play cards and you cheat."

"And you're a boy, you play cards, and you're bad at cheating." Soul ignored the jibe.

"So what, you're a master con artist as well?"

"I'm Stein, and I believed I just saved you so try being a little less rude."

"Right, sorry. I'm Soul, but seriously, you're a con artist?" The man, Stein, stubbed out his cigarette.

"Only sometimes. And since you're feeling so well Soul, I think it's time you should be going home, I have experiments to conduct."

"But…"

"But what? You gonna ask me to teach you or something?" Stein asked disbelievingly.

"Well if I'm so bad maybe you could show me a thing or too." Soul answered. He wasn't sure what he would be getting himself into or whether this Stein was a doctor, mad scientist or master thief but this guy knew what he was doing and Soul wanted in.

"So what the little rich kid can have some entertainment for a while? Do something rebellious; get grounded by mother and father?"

"It's not like that! And I am not like them!" Soul shouted, immediately gripping his ribs afterwards, gasping in pain. Stein's face softened slightly.

"Look, kid, you're doing this for all the wrong reasons - you aren't the karate kid and I'm not an old guy with a moustache, so just go home, get a hobby."

A car horn sounded from outside the building. Soul tried to speak but Stein beat him too it. "That's your taxi. I'll walk you out." He spoke with such finality that Soul didn't bother replying. Sighing in defeat, he slowly edged himself into a sanding position, ignoring the leather jacket pushed in his direction. It was stained just like the watch had been, another marker of his defeat. The two walked in silence to the lab's extremely clinical looking front doors, as the opened Soul found himself blinking against harsh sunlight – but…

"Wait, how long was I out?"

"Overnight. I had to knock you out again for the stitches."

"You… Wha?"

"Just be thankful I left the rest of your body alone." Soul's eyes widened, not wanting to think about what this crazy doctor might have done to him had he decided to 'experiment' on his defenceless, unconscious body. But the biggest problem he faced now was going home, not something he was particularly looking forward to. Not only did he look like shit, if his parents caught wind of how it had happened… This just wasn't his day. Soul breathed, maybe if everyone was out, they wouldn't have noticed his disappearance and Soul could slip in unnoticed. He was brought out of his thoughts of his impending doom when Stein grabbed the back of his head.

"OW!" The teen complained.

"Should be fine, you're lucky it wasn't worse. Just keep the wound clean and the stitches can come out in a few weeks. Same with the cut on your neck."

"Right, yeah." Soul escaped his grip and slid into the cab, reluctantly giving the driver directions to the Evan's mansion.

"Hey, Soul." The boy in question looked up with the tiniest glint of hope in his blood red eyes.

"Better luck next time." And with that the door to the cab was shut and Stein was making his way back inside the lab. So that was it? Soul fumed. He might as well have left him lying in the alley. Stupid mad scientist - and a con artist? Tch, yeah right. And what the hell kind of a name was Stein? Probably had an undead zombie guy in the basement too. The angry teen however only had a few minutes to contemplate what had just happened before the cab had rolled up to the huge iron gates at the front of the family mansion. To his disdain there was a police car parked in front, so much for slipping in unnoticed. As he stepped out of the cab he realised he had no money for the fare but the driver waved him off – aww so the crazy scientist paid for his ride home, how nice of him. His last form of escape vanished as the cab drove off.

Soul breathed, gearing himself up for the upcoming interrogation only to realise the equally big front doors were open, showing off three extremely angry family members. Soul trudged towards and through the gates as his mother stomped forwards across the gravel path – the rage was emanating off her in waves that sent shivers down Soul's spine. He took a moment to glance at his father who shook his head and turned to go back inside, and Wes whose face was a hurtful mixture of worry and disappointment.

Oh well. Here goes nothing.

There you have it ^^ Hope you enjoyed - and also hopefully I'll be on a roll and could maybe possibly have the next chapter in a couple of days before Christmas - after which I can get fat, play lots of Uncharted and knuckle down to some Uni work ^^

Just one more chapter in the past after this which includes how Soul met Black*Star (other character's backstories will be explored later in the story - or in a different story if this one ever gets finished and popular enough for a sequel (which i'm already beginning to plan btw so it better had xD)

Again please read, - review -
(just throwing in some not-so-subtle hints there ;D)