Rocksteady had wanted some time alone, but he had had more than enough. Bebop should've been back by now. Where the heck was he? He had seriously started considering going out after him, even though he wasn't entirely sure where he might be. Rocksteady hadn't spent this much time alone is a long time, and it was severely freaking him out. Suddenly he heard tires squealing outside, followed by a light crash. Yeah, that'd be Bebop. Rocksteady leapt off the pallets and opened the door for Bebop. He was standing in the near-darkness, grinning, holding several grocery bags and carrying a sleeping bag under each arm.

"Geez, took you long enough!" said Rocksteady, more relieved than upset.

"Yeah, well, I had a couple problems." Bebop glanced around. "Man, it gets dark in here."

"Well, yeah! We gots no power, remember?" Rocksteady led him to the spot below the window. Bebop dropped the bags, then tossed one of the sleeping bags to Rocksteady. "What kinda problems?"

"Huh?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cigarettes.

"You said you had problems."

"Ah, no biggie." Bebop paused while he lit up. After taking his first drag, he said, "I went to Ace's to pawn the stuff." He made to put his lighter and cigarettes away, but Rocksteady waved at him.

"Wait - lemme borrow the lighter."

Bebop handed it to him, and watched as he tried to get the fire going. "So, anyways, Ace din't wanna take the stuff."

"Wha'? How come?"

"Some stupid state law sez you gotta have ID to sell stuff to pawnshops. I got my old ID, but it don't look much like me no more."

"And Ace gave ya hell for dat?"

"Well, he said he got busted for takin' stuff without ID, and the city came down pretty hard."

"So, wha' happened?"

"Let's just say we worked it out. He wanted the guns pretty bad." He took another drag, then grinned as the fire took hold.

Rocksteady began feeding the flames from his pile of broken pallets. "How much ya get?"

"Enough. F'r now, anyways." He indicated the bags on the floor. "Dinner's waitin'."

"Great - I'm starvin'." Rocksteady dove into the nearest bag, and emerged with a large bag of Nacho Cheese Doritos. "These for me?"

"'f you want." Bebop stuck his cigarette back in his mouth, then reached into a different bag.

"Ain't ya hungry?" He tore the bag open with his teeth - his large stubby fingers were horrible at opening things.

"Had some Butterfingers on th' way back." He pulled out a small portable radio, and turned it on. He fiddled with the dial until he found the hard rock station, then turned up the volume, nodding his head along. Looking up, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and grinned again at his friend. "You 'n' me 'n' Metallica. Jus' like always."

"Yeah," said Rocksteady, rather uncertainly, around a mouthful of chips. He took another fistful of chips, then tossed the bag aside. He pulled off three pallets and lined them up, then unrolled a sleeping bag on top.

"Ya tired already?"

Rocksteady shrugged. "Kinda. I guess. I sorta feel...I dunno."

Again, Bebop decided to let Rocksteady have his way. "That's cool, Rocky. Whatever. We're on our own here - ain't nobody gonna tell us what t' do."

"Yeah," said Rocksteady, somewhat sadly. He lay down on top of the sleeping bag, then glanced down at his boots. He thought briefly about taking them off, but then remembering what a bitch they always were to put back on, shook the thought off.

Bebop flicked his stub away, turned the radio down, then began assembling his own bed. Rocksteady watched him absently.

"Bebop..."

"Yeah?"

"What...what're we gonna do?"

"Find anudder gang to join, ya dummy. Whadja think?"

"I...oh. Will anudder gang let us join?"

"Ya kiddin'? 'f course they will. Every gang's gonna want us. We're the biggest, meanest guys in the city! Ain't nobody's gonna mess wit' us."

That's kinda what I'm afraid of, thought Rocksteady, but he didn't say it out loud. He wanted to believe in Bebop's future - the eternally sunny one, with good times right around the corner. He sighed, closed his eyes, and tried to get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

Unfortunately, things didn't turn out quite as rosy as Bebop predicted. The Foot didn't just supersede all the other gangs; it had put most of them out of comission. While this would've been a point of pride for Bebop and Rocksteady a month or so ago, now it was a major problem. The dismantling of the Foot left a void - one that would be filled eventually, of course, but at this particular moment, there just didn't appear to be any gangs to join. Had either of them had any leadership skills (or any motivation), they probably could've created a powerful new gang from the ground up. But both Bebop and Rocksteady were followers by nature, and such a thought didn't even occur to them. Instead, every night, they went out in search of a gang to join. Each night they headed further and further from their homebase, and each morning returning dejected. Things were made even more difficult one evening when they woke up and found the van had been towed away. Now all their excursions had to be made by jumping the subway. Not that either of them wanted to expose themselves to the public like that, but it was that or walk, and they were now forced to travel far enough that walking would've taken hours.

Rocksteady tried not to worry too much, but he kept his eye on the food supply. He knew the money was now gone - Bebop had even given up smoking - and one morning, he was dismayed to see only two large bags of pretzels left. He reluctantly bit one open, but then felt he couldn't keep quiet. "What're we gonna do for food?"

Bebop was tapping his foot along to the radio, humming. He looked up and grinned. "Got it covered."

"How?"

"Rocky, you gotta stop worryin'. Everythin' always turns out OK, right?" Seeing Rocksteady half-shrug, he went on. "Don't worry 'bout it. Look, I'll go take care of it right now." He stood up and stretched.

"Where you gonna go?"

"Out. Be back later, wit' all yer favorites!" He shot Rocksteady another grin, then headed out the door. Rocksteady munched pretzels as he watched him walk down the alley, then headed back for his sleeping bag. He turned the radio to the classic rock station, smiled a bit, then nodded off to the soothing strains of Blue Oyster Cult.

Rocksteady slowly woke up to the Morning Zoo doing their birthday scam. Birthday scam? he thought. But...but they only do that on Wednesday mornings. It's Wednesday? Wow, I must have slept all day! No wonder I'm hungry. Hungry! Bebop said he'd get more food! He swung into a sitting position and looked at the food. Only the two bags of pretzels. He looked over at the door - it was still as he had left it. Bebop must not have come back yet. Where was he? Well, he wouldn't worry about it - Bebop always came through.

He stood up, stretched, then decided to sneak out to steal the paper from the restaurant next door - he liked to read the funnies. He opened the door, carefully made his way down the alley, snagged the paper, then hurried back, closing the door behind him. He began humming along to the song on the radio as he opened the paper. Before he could flip to the entertainment section, the word MUTANT caught his eye. Sitting down on his sleeping bag, he read the full headline.

POLICE SHOOT ARMED MUTANT ROBBER

Rocksteady wasn't much of a reader, but he forced himself to read the entire article, twice. He wasn't mentioned by name, but it was obvious who the "seven-foot warthog mutant with a pink mohawk" was. Apparently, Bebop had gone in to rob a liquor store last evening, but had walked in just as a cop was leaving. The cop, thinking he was in danger, had shot Bebop three times in the chest. He had survived - Bebop was tough - but it was obvious he was going to jail, probably for years.

Rocksteady felt his eyes getting blurry. He had no prospects, no food, no money...and now, no friend. He was completely alone.