A/N: Hey hey, long time no see! Gah, school sucks! I won't be able to update as often as I'd like because of school and a whole bunch of shiznet due within the next few weeks, but I will try to update at least once a week. Eh . . . you don't know Akira Arsinen!? Gah! That's a CLASSIC! If you can't afford the manga (tres expensive for all of them) go rent the movie or something, it's a bit old but it's AWESOME! I got's da cutsie lil Kenada action figure and bike done by err . . . Todd Farely? I think that's his name. ANYWHO, I guess nobody knows where the name Naota comes from? FLCL! Fooli Cooli, the most awesomely screwed up anime I've laid my eyes on. Great show, tehe! Errr . . . I guess for the sake of SoratoFan's hinting I may include Koumi in later chapters. That's kinda a cool name though . . . maybe I'll call their son that . . . err, anywho, read on my faithful followers!

Chapter Six:

Donuts?

It had been several days since that one fateful night and things around the house had grown tense; just waiting for the oncoming storm. Sora had grown so nervous she wouldn't even let Tyler go to school without her assistance and Alex never left her sight.

Just as Matt had suggested, Sora had gotten a hold of the necessary paperwork and avoided contacting a lawyer. She just wanted this over as soon as possible. Regretfully she had decided not to fight for full custody of both of the children, and in a tense conversation they had both decided that she would take little Alexander and he would take Tyler. Though she felt nervous about giving him any of the children she knew the fight could get ugly if she told him she would keep both of them. Sora thought that it would be more because of pride than of love for the children, but that was a rather harsh thought to think about her hus . . . ex-husband. She knew Tyler would be better off with her father than Alex . . . and less corruptible, so it was how it was going to be.

Matt had simply grown more withdrawn since then and left his studio long enough to eat or meet his band mates for practice. When the sounds of his guitar weren't leaking out of the room there was absolute silence, and though she still cared about him she dared not enter that room and warned the kids against it as well. She had a few good guesses about what he was doing and it made her cringe to think, but for now she could only be a mother.

A week had passed with nothing major going on; Sora and Matt had attended Divorce Court and it was all but final. Just a few more papers to be signed and it would be over with. They would split half of their belongings and half of the bills . . . and half of the children. Sora would keep their apartment and Matt began searching for a home of his own.

Right then Sora had the children sitting around the television watching some Disney movie and eating popcorn when Matt finally emerged from his studio looking pale, gaunt, and distracted. Pausing at the door he pulled his jacket on and lit a cigarette.

"I'm going out." He muttered as he swung the door around forcefully behind him.

With near desperation in his step he bounded down the apartment stairs to the street below. Purposefully he strode down the sidewalk taking the occasional puffs on his Marlboro. It was starting to get late, and people all around him were either hurrying home or heading out to the may clubs. Some may even have had the same purpose as himself. Who knew? His face was drawn up in a grimace as he tried to control his nervous shaking. He needed this desperately.

Finally, he took the last turn down an apparently empty alley outside of an abandoned warehouse and paused near a back door. Impatiently he glanced down at his watch and tapped his foot impatiently while rubbing his arms to keep warm. It was a chilly night, and a wonder there was no snow. Carefully he pulled the brim of his Yankees cap down lower around his eyes as he looked warily around for any sign of life. There! A movement off to the side! A wave of relief passed over him as he approached the shadowed figure.

"You got it?" He asked in a hushed voice.

"Yeah, yeah, you got the money?" Came to hoarse reply. There was a slight rustle as Matt reached into his jacket and handed the wad of bills over.

"Here it is, give it up already!" Matt was going more desperate by the moment, and his eyes grew hungry as the bag was produced.

Greedily he snatched the bag and crammed it into his pocket. As a small shuffle was heard down near the entrance of the alley, both of their heads snapped to see who it was. The dealer wasted no more time than a quick glance however and darted through the warehouse door and took off out of sight.

"Hey you! Hands up! You're under arrest!" Came the harsh shout.

Matt's eyes widened in fear and without waiting any longer himself he ran to the other end of the alley and came out upon a busy sidewalk. The shouts of the officer behind him ensued and he attempted to slip into the crowd when a sharp bang reached his ears and a raging fire erupted in his right calf. With a grunt he continued on and discarded the hat, trying to hide himself within the group of people. He could still hear the shouting of the officer and soon another had joined.

"Shit!" He growled as he hobbled on faster.

There was no way he could keep this up for much longer. A rose of blood had blossomed on the leg of his jeans and made him stick out all too much and the pain was growing unbearable. Every step rained crippling agony up and down his right side and brought stinging tears to his eyes. If he was caught with this much meth he'd be put away for years! He couldn't let that happen. If only he could duck out of sight; they hadn't caught too much of a glimpse of him. But it sounded like they were right behind him!

There, up ahead, was an apartment building! Maybe he could loose them in there! With a primal growl he pulled on his last reserves of strength and will and darted towards the apartment building and threw himself beneath a stairwell. Carefully he curled himself into the smallest form possible and drew as far back into the shadows as he could.

"Hey, I saw 'em go in here! He can't of gone far!" Matt held his breath as he caught sight of the pair of officer's boots as they paused near the stairwell.

"Well, there ain't anything on this floor, and he couldn't have gotten up those stairs fast enough with that bullet wound. Damn it!"

"S'okay Phil, can't get 'em all."

"I know, I know, but I just can't stand scum junkies like him!"

"Don't worry about him, why don't we go relax back at the station an grab somethin' to eat."

"Donuts?"

"Sure Phil, c'mon."

The boot steps of the officer's echoed down the hall as they excited the complex and Matt let his breath out in a sigh. That had been close. With a grunt he tried to pull himself from under the stairs, but he had grown dizzy. Looking back at his leg he grew angry as he noticed the blood dripping from beneath his jeans and onto the floor.

With a jump his heart began to race as he heard steps coming down the stairs and he tried with little success to pull himself back underneath them for cover.

"Hey, it's you!"

Shit, the cops had found him! Narrowing his eyes he turned to glare at his captors, but the dizziness had made his vision swim. All he could see were two mocha orbs before passing out.

A/N: Hum . . . donuts are good. Poor Phil. Not much to say . . . my slightly becrazed muse is taking a vacation now, she's prolly still gloating over the hockey win tonight . . . WHOOHOO! Let's go Senators! Tehe! (one sees slightly becrazed neko muse dancing around with hockey jersey, face paint, and large hockey stick waving in air) Oh the good ole hockey game is the best game you can name! And the best game you can name is the good ole hockey game. BTW : . . . I wanna drive the zamboni!

Hem . . . yesh . . . expect some junk in next week's chapter. Course I'll have one of them fake Sociology of the Family babies screaming in my ear then, but hey, maybe it'll help my inspiration. Tata! (no not the boobs)