A/N: The long awaited Chapter Seven. I hoped that this fic would not suffer the fate of all my others - my boredome. But, I decided that I like this fic way to much to not continue it and after vigiourus efforts, here's the next chapter! Hope you enjoy it, please review. That gives me hope that this fic has a better destiny than my other hopless attempts at fanfiction. Thanks, and enjoy!

Chapter Seven

It was a crummy old necklace that Paige would have pawned off within the next year or so anyways. So why did Zack feel so bad? He slid the necklace across the counter to the pawnshop owner.

"Fifty bucks, take it or leave it," the pawnshop owner grumbled.

"Seventy five," Zack said. "Come on, it's good merchandise."

He sighed. "Look kid, business is business. I can't give you more than fifty." The man handed him five ten-dollar bills. "And... here." He took an old jacket off the wall behind him. "Take this. Go to a shelter, okay? Get some rest... some food."

The man put the necklace in a lockbox under his desk.

"And I won't tell the cops who I got this from," he added. "Go on. Take care of yourself."

What a guy, he thought. He was going to report it as stolen. And Zack still got fifty bucks and a jacket.

"I can't let you do this," he said. "You're down and out fifty bucks... and whatever this jacket is worth. Please, I'll take the necklace back and take off."

"Get out of here kid," the man repeated. "Go on."

Reluctantly, he nodded, unable to word his thanks. With a jingle of the bell hooked to the front door, Zack left the shop and the kind man behind.

It was good advice - go to a shelter. Where else was he going to go? He had fifty bucks, a jacket, a torn shirt and a reoccurring fit of physical pain. And they would feed him and let him sleep there... And he could disappear.

Zack flipped the collar of the jacket up until they covered his ears. Sure, it wasn't much of a disguise, but it would do for now. He'd hide his face, sneak around. He'd keep on top of everything. Always make sure he was up to date on the latest mystic news.

And maybe, he'd get lucky.

Maybe, Chris would come to him.

***

Three Months Later...

***

"Run!" a young teenage boy shouted and ran down the alley. "Quick! It's the cops!"

Zack was vaguely aware of several people running past him. He opened his eyes to see what was going on, but when they opened they were met with a bright blazing light. Someone gave him a rough kick.

"Get up!" the man growled.

He groaned in response and shifted his position in response. There was another kick and then a strong grip on the scruff of his neck. Zack came to his feet and stared through the darkness at the two cops standing in front of him.

"Come on, Jeff," one said. "You know he didn't have anything to do with this."

The other one, larger and meaner, smirked. "I know nothing of the thing. Besides, gotta clear the garbage off the street."

The other officer looked unsure but didn't say anything else. Zack sighed and for a moment considered making a break for it. But it was useless. He was too tired. He hadn't eaten in days nor had he slept. He'd been hearing Chris scream all night for three days straight. Sleep was, for him, just a distant memory. And his powers were suffering from this period of sleeplessness.

Zack let the officer 'Jeff' drag him to the squad car. He went with no resistance and allowed them to force him in the backseat. He sank into the cushioned interior. It was the most comfortable place he had been since he'd left the shelter...

"Come, on, Jeff," the other cop said again. "He's real messed up. Leave him alone."

He responded by slamming the car door.

The realization of what was happening finally dawned on him. Zack realized that jail meant he would never find Chris. He'd never stop him...

***

"Hey, dwarf!"

"Hey, kid," the short man grumbled back, in a heavy Bronx accent nonetheless. "What'd'ya want?"

Zack fell to one knee so he was relatively the same height as the dwarf. "How many have been killed?"

The dwarf grunted in response. "Don't know what you're talking about."

He attempted to walk away but Zack grabbed him by his shoulder. "I mean it," he said. "Chris Perry - how many witches has he killed."

His eyes grew wide and he glanced around quickly. "You stupid or something!" he growled under his breath. "We're out in the real world!"

Grabbing Zack's hand, he took off down an alley or two before stopping in front of an old tennant building. They walked in, Zack very cautiously. The dwarf guided him through the first floor and into an office that read: Lanlorde.

"Shouldn't it be Land-Lord?" the boy inquired.

"You run this joint, or me?" the dwarf asked. "And no, it shouldn't. It's my name. Nifty little name, ain't it?"

He shrugged in response. "Yeah, guess so."

Lanlorde gave him a rueful look as they walked in. He closed the door. "Look," he said. "What do you want?"

"Just the news," Zack answered.

"Get a paper," the dwarf replied.

"I tried to find a Daily Prophet, but, unfortunately, I don't own an owl," he said sarcastically.

"Now listen here wise guy-"

Zack sighed. "Look. What's gone down lately." Then as a sarcastic afterthought, "Please."

"Nothing big," Lanlorde answered after a little while. "A few witches killed here and there. My third cousin Danoto was killed - probably a warlock (but who really cares?) and a leprechaun or two were killed."

"The witches," the young man asked, "who killed them?"

The dwarf shrugged.

"Hey!" he shouted. "This is important!"

"Look, kid, I can't tell you what I don't know."

Zack sighed. He wasn't going to get anything further from this creature. Quite dejected, he began to walk out of the room without another word. Lanlorde watched him go. In a moment of uncharacteristic weakness, he called out, "You can go see Talisan. He might no something."

Zack turned around. "Talisan? Where can I find him?"

***

The car stopped outside the police station and Zack knew that this was it. Maybe he could try something. Anything. Likely they'd never tried to arrest a witch before. If he could muster up enough energy to use one of is powers...

If he could just orb...

"Let's go, kid," officer Jeff said gruffly as Zack slid slowly out of the car. "Come on, we don't got all day."

Zack didn't struggle. He didn't resist. There wasn't enough energy in him to even speak right now. In truth, he was surprised he was even still awake. Of course, he had no doubt that if he attempted to sleep he'd just hear the screams again. There was no point in sleeping.

"What's this Van Zandt?" a man asked the younger officer as Jeff dragged Zack to the holding area.

"Some kid we picked up," he answered sheepishly. "Found him sleeping on the ground... Jeff thinks he's got something to do with that robbery call we got. I don't know..."

Zack didn't hear anything after that. He dragged out of hearing range and tossed into a small holding cell. There was a bed, but that was it. He sighed. "Best accommodations I've had in a while," he managed to mutter to himself before collapsing on the bed.

And for the first time in days, he slept.