"Rule #1 of food on the streets, kid: $1 pizza is your best friend," Jason took another bite of his pizza and continued talking, his mouth still full. "$1.50 for a slice the size of your face and a soda. That's an easy lunch right there."

His companion took a far more conservative bite of her pizza and wordlessly handed him a napkin. "Thanks." He said, wiping his mouth. "There's not a lot of vitamins in it though so even though it's cheap you can't eat it all the time."

"Oh really?" The young girl sitting next to him said sarcastically. "I never would've guessed."

Jason laughed and took a sip of his soda. "That brings us to rule two of eating while homeless: Unless you want scurvy, make sure you're getting your vitamin C from somewhere."

"Scurvy?"

"Yeah scurvy. Ya know that old pirate's disease that makes your teeth fall out?"

"I know what scurvy is."

A fierce wind blew in that made Jason hug his well worn jacket closer to his body. The sky was slowly becoming grey and overcast. They would have to move somewhere with cover soon if they didn't wanna get rained on.

"I knew a guy out here—ate nothing but Mountain Dew and Saltines for a while. His mouth got so bloody you'd think the guy ate a mouth full of glass."

Brown doe-eyes widened slightly. "Shit, really?"

Jason shoved the last bit of pizza in his mouth. "Yeah really. Put your hood on Mac." He reached over and pulled the dark blue hood over the brunette's eyes none too gracefully. She responded with a playful shove.

"So what's rule three?" She quipped, "Supplements?"

"Yeah actually." Jason hopped up from the sidewalk and stretched before adding, "Mom hands vitamin bottles out sometimes. I'll see if I can get you one tomorrow."

The teenager stood up too and nodded, finishing her soda. She didn't need to ask who "Mom" was. Jason had already told her all about the nurse he'd grown so fond of. "You don't have to ya know. I can remember to snag an orange every once in a while."

Jason threw a thin arm over the shorter girl's shoulders and the pair started walking. "None of that now Big Mac. You're a growing girl and growing girls need their vitamins. How else are you going to grow up big and strong?" He shot her a lopsided grin. If it weren't for the hood he would've ruffled her hair for good measure.

"Yeah yeah whatever." Mac said, smiling back at him.

Her name wasn't really Mac. That was just a nickname Jason had picked out for her, before she could correct him. They'd met after he'd found her digging through the trash cans outside of a McDonald's. The name stuck.

They walked down the street side by side in a comfortable silence. It started to rain and the people they're sharing the sidewalk with picked up the pace. With Mac on his right, Jason's the one getting jostled by impatient pedestrians going the opposite direction. He didn't mind.

The storm clouds had chased away the last bit of sunlight for that day and it quickly became pitch dark, the thundering sounds of rain nearly eclipsing the noise of traffic. Somewhat unconsciously Jason stood up a little straighter, his eyes immediately scanning ahead of him for signs of trouble, conscious of where Mac walked beside him.

Rule # 2 of Living While Homeless:

It gets dangerous when it gets dark

After so many years living on the streets the hypervigilant reaction was normal for Jason. He didn't even have to think about it anymore. As soon as the sun went down his danger radar was on full blast. The switch wasn't natural for Mac yet though. She was young, just a kid, she hadn't been out on the streets for very long and it showed. That wasn't to say that Mac was naive, she was far from it really. She just hadn't learned all the tips and tricks a veteran would know and that made her a target.

When Jason had spotted her pocketing half eaten french fries that was what he saw. A target. A skinny little girl who didn't look much older than twelve, a kid who was likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere if someone didn't look out for her.

At first she didn't want anything to do with him. But eventually once he was able to prove he wasn't just some creep he was able to teach her Rule #3 of Living While Homeless: Safety in Numbers

Jason hadn't felt proud of much in his life, so it was nice having someone who looked up to him. Jason imagined it was what being a big brother felt like, having someone to laugh and joke around with while occasionally teaching a couple of important life lessons, like how to stave off scurvy.

By the time they'd made it to the subway station they were soaked through. They were a real sight on the 2 Train, like a pair of drowned rats next to the people with the good sense to carry an umbrella.

"Where we going?"

"There's this place on 161st street," Jason explained. "It'll be good for the night."

Mac nodded, leaned back against the hard plastic seat and closed her eyes. Within seconds the rumble of the train had lulled her to sleep.

Jason chuckled before letting out his own yawn. He didn't dare close his eyes because he knew he'd fall asleep too. Normally he'd sleep during the day so he could be well rested at night in case things got crazy. But ever since he met little Big Mac his sleep schedule had been flipped around. It was one thing if people saw Jason asleep on a sidewalk at 1 in the afternoon, but if people saw a teenage girl passed out in the middle of the day there'd be too many questions.

So in order to keep from falling asleep, Jason watched the people on the subway. He took in their appearance and whatever little details he could pick up about them, and made up little stories in his head to keep him amused.

A quick glance to his left revealed a smartly dressed man in a brown overcoat. When their eyes met Jason waved good-naturedly, this only made the man tighten his hold on his briefcase and look away. Clearly the man was some sort of spy, the James Bond type. His briefcase surely held all manner of important classified secrets; like the cure for cancer or a real-life Death Star.

The guy a few seats down on Jason's right, on the other hand, was big and surly looking, with a bushy beard mixed with bits of grey and huge ham hands. He was an assassin sent by some obscure Eastern European country to stop the would-be Bond. Those ham hands were registered lethal weapons. He was once credited with killing a man using only his left thumb and nothing else. He could speak over a dozen languages but his mother tongue was the language of violence!

The redhead near the end of the subway car in the yellow raincoat munching on a granola bar is the assassin's former lover. They'd started out as rivals, soldiers on opposite sides, yet love found a way! Years ago tragedy struck! The pair had been double-crossed by their organization when their secret relationship was revealed. In the ensuing firefight the redhead was believed dead and Ham Hands lost all memory of his great love.

But the redhead had faked her death *gasp!* and was now back to stop Ham Hands and whisk him away to the life in the French countryside they'd always dreamed about. Ham Hands' favorite color was yellow—because he loved sunflowers—that was why the redhead had chosen that particular raincoat. Hoping beyond hope that the color would jog her love's memory and bring him back to her…!

At this last thought Jason laughed aloud despite himself. A few riders turned and gave him funny looks but he paid them no mind. The train had pulled into a station and he watched again as people got on and off, all the while still laughing silently to himself. He stopped when he recognized a familiar face.

Jason didn't know his real name but he'd always called the guy Skinny because he was exactly that, with real thin arms and legs that almost looked disproportionate. Jason also thought the name Slenderman would've suited him well but tried not to think about it too much for fear of actually saying it to the man's face.

Skinny had gotten on with a girl who was very clearly strung out, she kept nodding off on Skinny's shoulder and he kept thumping her awake. The girl wore quite a bit of make-up that had gotten ruined in the rain, her clothes revealed far too much and covered far too little; it made her line of work glaringly obvious.

People on the train knew better than to comment. Those who couldn't hide their discomfort had gotten up to sit in different seats. Those who hadn't, looked away. Jason had looked away as quickly as he could too, but Skinny had still noticed him. Skinny smiled and nodded in his direction so he had no choice but to smile and nod back.

Skinny and Jason were not friends, but Skinny thought they were—they'd known each other for a long time after all. But at most Jason thought of Skinny as an acquaintance from a time in his life he'd rather forget.

The last time they'd seen each other had been not long after he'd taken Big Mac under his wing. Skinny had come up behind him, clasping him hard on the shoulder, "Jason! That you motherfucker?"

Skinny was a loud drunk and the sudden surprise increase in volume had made Mac jump and Jason flinch. Without missing a beat he smiled and replied with a perfectly friendly,"hey man!" as Skinny pulled him into a too-tight hug.

Just like that they were shooting the breeze. Mac, the smart cookie she was, knew to stay quiet without having to be told. She'd stepped directly behind him, away from Skinny's line of sight.

They kept talking. Jason had almost believed they'd be able to get away if he could just work in a way to say goodbye that sounded natural, when Skinny said, "So what's up man, she your girl?"

Skinny had noticed Mac despite her efforts. His question made Jason want to throw up, but he knew what the smart thing to do was. He'd had to smile and laugh like one of the guys as he called little Mac his 'girl'.

Skinny had wolf whistled and patted him on the back all proud, "You sly dog you! She's a cute little thing too, didn't think you had it in ya!"

Skinny had ambled off unsteadily not long after that and Mac could barely look at him; she was so scared.

Skinny wasn't a good person, he was as bad as they came. He picked up girls all the time and put them to work. Runaways, like Mac, or just plain desperate people, were easy prey to guys like him. All he had to do was flash some money and offer them a warm place to stay and they were trapped.

How young you were didn't matter to Skinny or the people he worked with. If Jason hadn't claimed Mac then, he would've considered her fair game. That was weeks ago but the thought of what could've happened still made Jason uneasy.

He nudged Big Mac's shoulder softly, "Wakey, wakey small fry."

"I wasn't sleeping," Mac said drowsily as she snapped awake.

"'Course you weren't," Jason chuckled. "We'll be there in a few stops."

Mac nodded and stretched before resting her head on his shoulder. Jason kept an eye on Skinny the rest of the way. Thankfully they were able to get off at their stop without Skinny coming over to chat.

"So where we going again?" Mac asked as they made their way out of the subway tunnel.

"There's this old courthouse," Jason replied. "It's all boarded up and it's huge so a bunch of us usually hunkerdown in there sometimes."

"How do you get in if it's all boarded up?" Mac asked curiously.

"Someone ripped a board off one of the windows." Jason explained. "I'll give ya a leg up when we get there."

Just then there was a long and low whistle that immediately got their attention. The pair turned around. "Hey Gabe!"Jason greeted happily, "You headed to court too?"

The way Gabe was built he could've easily given Ham Hands a run for his money. He was a 6'6 wall of solid muscle from top to bottom, with biceps and thighs like tree trunks. He wasn't a brawler though, if anything Jason was pretty sure the man was some sort of pacifist because he hardly ever so much as raised his voice.

Gabe had strided over to him quickly with his long legs, his hand clutched around his umbrella and a satchel bag over his shoulder. He cut an especially impressive figure today thanks to the suit he had on. "Hey you two," Gabe greeted back.

"Hi Gabe." Mac chirped.

"Y'all get caught in the rain?" The large man asked, noting their soaked clothing.

Mac nodded. "How'd your interviews go?"

Gabe shrugged. "Think they went alright. They seemed to like me."

Gabe had been in the process of finding a job for quite some time with little success. He had a degree, but several employers were put off by the gap in his work history as well as certain points in his record. He'd had yet to hear good news after an interview.

"This is the one big guy, I can feel it!" Jason encouraged.

Gabe snorted. "You two stay out of trouble today?" Both Jason and Mac suddenly became very interested in their shoes and Gabe sighed. "Let me get that for ya honey." In one quick motion he'd plucked Mac's oversized backpack off her shoulders.

"I can carry it." Mac insisted.

The larger man shook his head. "I got it."

Gabe was a real nice guy. Such a nice guy that he'd had to contend with quite a moral dilemma when Jason had first introduced Mac to their group. He didn't like the idea of a kid her age on the streets. He believed it would be better—safer—if she were in the hands of CPS or some other organization. He didn't understand her circumstances the way Jason did. It took a whole lot of convincing to make sure he didn't call the authorities right then and there.

Even now he still wasn't sure what the right thing to do was.

The trio made their way down 161st street together. Gabe had handed Mac his umbrella. The three of them couldn't fit under it together, so he made her and Jason walk under it no matter how much they protested ("But your suit Gabe! It'll get ruined!" "I'm already wet big guy, it don't matter.") He also made them wait for the light at every crosswalk, like they were tourists, because it was safer.

They blended in well enough with the regular people on the street in the dark, but they were still careful as they snuck their way in the back of the old stone courthouse. Gabe easily put Mac on his shoulders and she slipped in through the rusted old window, Jason not far behind her.

"Bean!" Mac cried happily.

The big dog had come running at the sound of their arrival, barking loudly in alert. He'd switched wagging his tail and whining with excitement when he realized who it was.

"Hi buddy!" Mac cooed as she petted the excitable pooch.

"Guess Terry's here too." Jason commented.

Not a moment later Gabe had climbed in and Bean began jumping up and down in front of him excitedly, trying to lick his face.

"Yeah yeah, hi, good to see you too." He said, giving the dog a quick squeeze so he'd calm down.

"This place is pretty cool." Mac remarked appreciatively, taking in the impressive stonework and dusty marble floors.

"Watch this!" Jason said gleefully before cupping his hands over his mouth. "ECHO!"

His voice reverberated through the large open halls, before chiming back at him.

Mac laughed, joining in too. "ECHO! ECHO!"

Bean howled along with them and there was more laughter.

"What's with all the yelling over here?"

Terry had come over, wrapped up in her trusty wool blanket, her red hair tamed only by the ratty old beanie she had on.

"Hi Terry!" Jason and Mac chimed together cheerfully.

"Hi Terry," Gabe added, far more subdued.

"Looks like the gang's all here!" Terry beamed. "Is Morgan with you too?"

Jason shook his head. "Ain't seen him in awhile.

Morgan was more the loner type. He often went off on his own, going days or weeks at a time before they'd see him again.

"He'll turn up," Gabe said. "Always does."

"Oh Mac honey," Terry lamented, "you're soaked."

"I'm wet too ya know." Jason said dramatically, acting hurt.

Terry rolled her eyes at him before wrapping her arm around Mac's shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you where the bathrooms are. You gotta put something dry on before you get sick."

Gabe handed Mac her backpack as Terry led her away, the men in the group—plus Bean—not far behind. With the water having been shut off years ago the bathroom stalls here were really more like changing rooms. If nature did come calling they either held it or went running to the fastfood place a block away.

In no time at all the three of them strolled out of the defunct bathrooms in dry clothes. The elders of the group lead the way further inside, with little Big Mac trailing along behind them, taking in everything and listening as their steps echoed around them. They made their way into a courtroom that had been designed in the old style. With off-white colored stucco designs that had gotten dirty with age and a viewing balcony that wrapped around the length of the room.

"Can I go up there?" Asked Mac excitedly.

"I wouldn't," Gabe warned. "The wood up there's rotted, one wrong step and you'd fall through."

The young girl pouted before jogging over to the center of the room where Jason and Terry stood warming themselves around a trash can fire the older woman had evidently already set up.

"How come we don't stay here all the time?" Mac asked, rubbing her chilled hands together.

"A couple reasons," Jason replied. "This place is condemned, no ones supposed to be in here. If there's too much in-and-out traffic people'd notice so we try not to come here too many times in a row."

"What's the second reason?"

"The second reason," Terry said, picking up where Jason left off after she'd finished hanging up their wet clothes in the jury box, "Is because we have a deal with some of the other guys out around here. This place is ours for a few months, then it's theirs. We trade off."

Most people don't realize that the homeless population had its own set of rules like this, with deals and understandings. It was a society in its own right, and like any society they had rules you needed to know to get by in life smoothly. They're unwritten rules—things you're just supposed to know; kinda like maintaining personal space or giving up your seat on the subway for a little old lady. Etiquette is one word people use to describe it, manners is another.

Jason had never had much manners or etiquette, but he knew all about the unwritten rules for the world they lived in. He'd had to learn fast because the streets of New York weren't kind to homeless who couldn't get with the program. When he'd been Mac's age he hadn't had anyone to teach him before it was too late.

That was another reason he'd decided to look out for her.

"Me and Mac are in for a treat tomorrow," Jason announced smiling, "tomorrow's soup kitchen day!"

The brown haired-girl nodded before raising a quizzical eyebrow. "Shouldn't every day be soup kitchen day actually? Those things are always open right?"

"They're usually not open on weekends actually." Gabe interjected.

Jason continued. "It's not just any soup kitchen," he explained. "Ma will be there tomorrow."

"You're sure it's safe right?" the girl asked, worried.

Jason nodded eagerly. "Lots of families come to soup kitchens too, remember. As long as you sit near one of them no one will be able to tell you're on your own."

"Shower first," Terry reminded insistently, "We gotta make sure she looks extra nice—those church people notice everything."

The pair nodded. Once her hands were warm Mac began throwing an old tennis ball for Bean to play with, giving the dog plenty of hugs and kisses all the while.

As the night dragged on Jason took it upon himself to tell a couple of ridiculous scary stories around the fire ("it's like camping. It'll be fun!") until one by one the group fell asleep. Gabe slept nearest the door, Jason liked to sleep on the Judge's bench because it made him feel important, and Terry and Mac slept close together with Bean in between to keep them warm.

The next morning the group was out and about bright and early. Gabe had gone out to go get his suit dry cleaned. There was a friendly dry cleaner who'd do jobs for the homeless for free as long as they got there first thing in the morning before the store got busy.

Terry, Mac and Jason went out in search of a shower.

Terry had invested in a gym membership that allowed full use of their facilities along with one guest. That was usually where she got cleaned up. Even though Terry had paid for a membership like everyone else, she didn't use the facilities as often as she'd like. The gym patrons could tell she was homeless; for whatever reason that made them uncomfortable, and they complained. The police had been called a few times to throw her out. Arguing that she wasn't doing anything wrong never seemed to work.

That morning Terry and Mac went in first, leaving Jason to look after Bean, not twenty minutes later it was his turn to go in. The gym is nothing special, you've seen one, you've seen them all. The building was cold and clean. As soon as he stepped inside he was met with the sounds of grunting, the shifting of weights and whirring of treadmills.

The lady at the front desk in the bright colored uniform's smile tightened as they made their way over to her. Terry had to come in again with him too since Jason was supposed to be her guest. Coming in back-to-back like this looks weird. The lady obviously knows now that they aren't here to work-out. They aren't caked in dirt and grime, or missing teeth like people expect of the homeless, but this lady can probably tell anyway since all their doing is coming in for a shower.

The nametag on her shirt lets Jason know the desk lady's name is Candy. Candy looks like she wants to say something, but she just smiles a stiff smile as Terry hands her her membership card for the second time. Jason, on the other hand, smiles broadly as he writes his name down in the guest book. He makes sure he's perfectly polite as he says "Hello'' and "Thank you" and asks Candy how her day is going before walking further inside.

The hot water of the showers feels fantastic against his skin. Jason would've stayed there all day if he could, instead he allowed himself fifteen minutes instead of the usual ten. He steps out feeling fresh and clean, making sure to wave good-bye to Candy as he leaves.

Breakfast for today is McDonald's. Not the healthiest start to their day but by far the least expensive. They load up on breakfast burritos and sausage McMuffins, the cheapest things on the menu at just under two and three dollars respectively. Bean, the good boy that he is, gets two burritos to himself. Oddly enough Jason noted that fastfood places were usually where he got the least flack for being homeless. It could just be the neighborhoods he frequented, but nobody ever looked twice at him if he came in a little worse for wear. Everyone just ate their food and minded their own business, which was exactly how he liked it.

When breakfast was over Bean and Terry went off on their own. Terry left with a hug and a reminder to stay safe, Bean with slobbery wet kisses.

There's not much on the agenda for him and Mac today, really they're just biding their time until the soup kitchen opens up. It's a Saturday so that makes things easier; they don't have to worry about catching the attention of truancy officers. It's a sunny day today though, and that makes it an excellent day for busking.

Before he'd met Mac, Jason wasn't in the busking business. He mostly relied on handouts to get money, with the odd job mixed in here or there. After the two had met he didn't feel comfortable panhandling anymore, he was too worried someone would see them together and get suspicious. Even with the lack of 'income' they weren't hurting for money right away however. Jason soon learned that Mac had done the smart thing while running away and brought a bit of cash along to keep her from starving—specifically about $200 in leftover bat mitzvah money.

The thirteen year old had gone so far as to budget it out, only letting herself spend a certain amount each day so it'd last her as long as possible. But even the best planning couldn't make the little nest egg last forever. Jason briefly considered going back to drawing caricatures of tourists at Time Square for money before he realized Mac could play piano.

Mac knew what busking was of course but she hadn't tried before because she worried it'd get her into trouble in the long run. Jason had had to convince her that plenty of people busked for extra money, not necessarily because they were homeless, and that it wouldn't raise anybody's suspicions if they saw a kid playing for money. There were of course pesky things like busking permits, but Jason seriously doubted anybody would hound a cute kid like Mac for her paperwork. They'd been snagging money this way ever since.

With this in mind they hopped on the subway into Brooklyn. They pass the time by playing stupid games

("I spy something that starts with S!" "Is it a subway rat?" "How'd you know?!")

("Name an animal for each letter of the alphabet, I'll go first: Ant…!")

A little under an hour and a half later they arrived at Al's Music Emporium.

The downside of busking with a piano was that it wasn't like playing something like a guitar where you could just carry it around and play wherever you wanted. As odd as it sounded, they were at the mercy of finding a free piano if they wanted to get anything done. Luckily, Jason was nothing if not resourceful. He'd managed to find an old music store in desperate need of some foot traffic. With some cajoling, he'd made a deal with the shop's aging owner Al.

Mac could play the old console piano he kept out front for money and Al wouldn't call the cops. In exchange, whatever crowd she drew up would naturally bring business to the store, doubly so as long as Mac spouted off praises for Al's piano lessons.

As they wheeled the old oak piano out the door, Al handed Jason flyers to hand out when the crowd started to build. The young man took them with a quip about how surely all this free publicity had earned him free lessons that Al found exceptionally funny. Before she sat down on the piano bench Mac made sure to set up a homemade sign that read,'TIPS PLEASE & THANK YOU !' along with a collecting tin made out of a box that used to hold guitar strings in bulk.

To start things off Mac usually picked a popular piece to grab people's attention. Today it's the Imperial March, and Jason had to keep himself from humming along. Like clockwork pedestrians hurrying along slow their pace to listen to the familiar tune. After the Imperial March it's the theme to Pirates of the Caribbean and now a couple of people begin to gather around to listen.

By the time Pirates of the Caribbean is over though no ones given so much as a penny and Mac started the next song with more energy. Jason was able to recognize it as that song from Titanic by Celine Dion. The extra flourishes and tight hand movements seem to do the trick this time because the first brave soul had stepped up to deposit a one dollar bill in the box.

Even more people had started joining the little throng to see what all the fuss was about, and Jason figured now would be a good time to start handing out flyers. Mac had moved on to a song that sounded familiar but whose name he didn't know. It was some jaunty jazz number that sounded terribly upbeat. A few of the crowd meandered into Al's shop, flyer in hand, and Jason was able to catch the pleased grin on the old guy's face out of the corner of his eye.

They go on like this for a while, Jason handing out flyers, and Mac busting out song after song. A lot of them are songs Jason doesn't know. Some of them are ones he knows but can't name—usually the older, classical ones. Regardless, they all sounded nice and the crowd thought so too because their box soon held a decent chunk of change.

They've been doing this often enough now that they have regular members in the crowd, people who either lived or worked nearby who usually walked past as part of their daily routines. These are the ones who make requests, and usually the ones who can be counted on to give out bills bigger than just singles.

There's one guy who's big on ragtime music, another likes Beethoven. A sweet elderly couple ask for two jazz ballads as they deposit a $10 bill. Just as they are about to call it a day an elderly man passes arm in arm with what Jason can only assume is his granddaughter. Another regular, Jason had taken to calling him Frank Sinatra in his head. This wasn't because the old man particularly resembled the guy, but because when he'd put in his first request weeks ago saying, "surprise me." Mac had decided on a rendition of 'My Way'.

Today when the old man smiles and says, "what do ya got for me today?" Mac smiles right back and 'Fly Me to The Moon' is what leaves the keys as they add a final five bucks to their collection.

They pushed the piano back inside and Al handed each of them a black-and-white cookie. The pair ate their treat contentedly as they counted out their money. Today was a good day and they've made a decent amount. Like always, most of the money they'd received was made up of ones, Al let them exchange them for fives and tens.

A few bigger bills take up less space then multiple smaller ones. That makes the money easier to store, or rather, hide.

Rule # 4 of Living While Homeless:

Hide Your Valuables

If you had something important that you wanted to hold onto—in this case money—then you had to find a way to keep it hidden while having to keep it on you.

Thankfully the trick for dollars is relatively easy. You keep a few bills in your pockets and the rest you fold up and stuff in places like your shoes. Funnily enough, Jason didn't have to teach Mac this trick. Her own grandfather had beaten him to the punch. Mac's grandpa had meant it as advice in case of something like a mugging, but it obviously had its other uses.

Money now divided between two sets of sneakers, they said goodbye to Al, who acted like he couldn't wait for them to leave as he shooed them outside, all the while stuffing another cookie into Mac's hands.

"How come you get an extra cookie?"

The girl grinned broadly, practically strutting as they walked down the street. "Probably 'cause I do all the work. Plus in case you haven't noticed, I'm like, adorable."

Jason laughed. "What do you mean you do all the work? I do plenty of work."

"Oh yeah?" Mac said, her tone teasing.

The young man gestured to himself dramatically, "I'm the eye candy! You think it's easy being this good looking?" Mac giggled. "Don't laugh, I'm serious." She laughed even more and Jason joined in, going on about how his beauty was a curse.

It was lunchtime now and that meant the soup kitchen was open. Jason, who's been to the stately cathedral that opens its doors for them, leads the way. It's not a long walk, at least not too long, about five or six blocks from Al's. If there was one thing being on the streets was good for, it was exercise.

Along the way Mac makes a show of acting like she's gonna stuff the whole cookie in her mouth before giving him the white half; his favorite.

—

Jason didn't like churches. Actually scratch that, he hated churches. Churches, chapels, cathedrals— they all made his skin crawl and his palms sweat. That was why he didn't come to this soup kitchen on a regular basis, because the high ceilings and gothic stone face of St. What's-it's made him feel like vomiting.

He only came on certain days, days he knew Linda Reagan would be there.

Becoming attached to the blonde nurse flew in the face of Rule # 1, but Jason hadn't been able to help it.

Rule # 1 of Living While Homeless:

Trust No One

Rule 1 was a little more complicated because it wasn't as straightforward as the others. It wasn't a hard-and-fast rule. After all, Jason had a small group of people in his life that he trusted exclusively. Really it was a precautionary measure for whenever you meet someone new. A reminder that street status made one an easy target.

Jason had learned that one the hard way.

Even in his early days as a street kid he hadn't been ignorant to the dangers he could face. He was careful then, but not careful enough. He'd forgotten the old adage about wolves in sheep's clothing.

He'd met plenty of wolves. People society tells you you're supposed to trust. People who use their position and their titles to take advantage, to hurt.

Jason, despite what his gregarious, happy exterior might have you believe, trusted no one right away anymore. That was the sort of thing you had to earn.

The young man could count the amount of people who'd earned this right on one hand. Most of these people were fellow homeless, people who'd shown him the ropes oh so long ago and who he could count on to have his back.

Jason had issues with the word "Family" so he liked to think of Morgan, Gabe, Terry and Bean as members of their own little tribe instead. He hadn't met them all at once, instead fate had cobbled them together piece by piece. Bean in particular he owed his life to. The big dog was a lover through and through, but that didn't mean he couldn't bite the shit out of a couple of guys looking for a fight.

As a matter of principle, Jason tended to avoid people of authority. That included cops, social workers, and bible thumpers to name a few. But one day Jason's instincts told him he could trust one such person. He didn't know what it was about Linda Reagan but the young man found he liked her from the moment he saw her.

Maybe it was the way she'd smiled at him when they first met, looking at him rather than his unwashed clothes and scraggly hair. Maybe it was the fact she bothered to learn his name and called him "sweetie" like she really meant it.

Initially he'd been waiting for the other shoe to drop with Linda, waiting for a wolf to show itself, but that moment never came. She never stopped smiling, she never stopped looking out for him.

He called her "mom" as a joke that first time and she hadn't so much as batted an eye. Instead she gave him a hug, handed him a slip of paper with her phone number on it and told him to call if he ever needed anything.

It'd been so long since someone had hugged him like that. Most people didn't even wanna touch him, like they thought he was diseased. Jason hadn't realized he'd started crying until Mom had handed him a tissue.

Jason trusted Linda Reagan. It was she who told him about this soup kitchen at her church and she was the reason he felt comfortable enough to come here despite his misgivings, because he trusted her.

The soup kitchen isn't in the church proper but in a large side building used for congregational gathering events. Jason scouted the line before deciding who it's best to stand behind. Mac would have to stick close to a family to keep up appearances, but it couldn't be with any regulars or she'd stick out.

There's a Pastor—Father? Priest?—- going around to everyone in the line to greet them warmly. Jason noted who he greeted by name and who introduced himself to before stepping in line.

Big Mac worms her way in between two families with multiple children, just like he'd said. Both families seem to assume she belongs to the other party so no one protests at her cutting the line. Jason was a few spots down. He could tell that Mac was nervous now that he wasn't right next to her. As the line moved along she kept shooting quick glances behind her at him, apparently worried he might abandon her at any moment.

Wanting to put her at ease, he sent a cheesy grin her way along with a double thumbs up. This seemed to help.

The congregation building was huge and set up in a way that reminded Jason of a school cafeteria. There were rows and rows of long rectangular tables, filled with people chatting to each other as they ate. At the front of the room were an assembly line of volunteers standing in front of aluminum trays of food who'd fill up your plate for you, asking if you wanted this main, with this side, and so on.

In the middle of this little food assembly line stood Linda Reagan.

She didn't help out at the soup kitchen as often as she liked, what with having a job and two kids to look after, but she tried to volunteer at least once a month. She'd chosen today—Saturday— specifically so her boys couldn't use excuses like it being a school night to get out of coming with her. Jack and Sean had griped about losing part of their weekend before learning they'd be in charge of the dessert table.

Linda enjoyed volunteering, it was a good way to meet people in the community and it felt good to feed people who wouldn't eat anything otherwise.

Today was an especially good day, The Murphy's had come by earlier and Mrs. Murphy had excitedly told Linda they'd finally been approved for an apartment after almost half a year of looking. Since she was handling food Linda hadn't been able to give the woman a proper hug but that didn't dampen Mrs. Murphy's mood.

As more people passed her, the blonde made sure to make polite conversation, saying hello and asking how they'd been, introducing herself to people who look new. Some appreciated the chance to talk and some don't, she didn't take it personally.

A lot of people are embarrassed at having to come to a soup kitchen, at having to rely on charity to get by. It's usually the newer ones who feel so ashamed at their situation they can't even look her in the eye. Sometimes it's not just the adults but kids too. Not the younger ones, the younger ones think coming here with their family is fun, like a field trip. The older ones though, the ones around Jack's age and older, they're the ones who look ashamed. They've just reached the stage in life where people's opinions are all that matter to them, where their confidence and self esteem are at their most fragile

One girl didn't even try to look Linda in the eye as she asked her what she'd like to eat. Her gaze was so low the only feature the woman could really make out was her brown hair. She stuck to curt one-word answers all while keeping her eyes downcast, like she couldn't wait to get away. It made Linda's heart ache. The girl perked up when Sean asked if she'd like a lemon square or brownie, and the blonde was this close to letting the kid have two desserts just to see her crack a smile.

"Hey Mom!"

"Jason!" Linda said happily, taking in the lanky frame and pale face of her 'son'. "How ya been sweetie?"

"Can't complain." Jason said, smiling like always. "What's on the menu for today?"

"I got Shepard's pie and beef stroganoff," she said gesturing to each of the trays in front of her.

"Stroganoff please!"

"Alright," Linda said, filling up a plate. "You're getting fruit too right?"

"Of course Ma, what am I, an animal?"

"Good boy," Linda praised with a chuckle. "Apple or orange slices?

Jason deliberated, hand under his chin, "Better make it orange slices. I need my vitamin C. Oh and uh, speaking of vitamins…"

"Hmm?"

"I was actually, kinda wondering, if uh," Jason lowered his voice like he was trying to be secretive. It didn't work because he'd never been good at using an inside voice. "If you could maybe give me some of those multivitamin things you have sometimes?"

Linda was surprised. Jason had never bothered with things like vitamins when she'd handed them out before, but she certainly wasn't going to question him about it now. "Of course honey. I don't have any with me right now, but if you want I can bring some tomorrow. We can meet here before mass if you want. That sound good to you?

Jason nodded earnestly. "Sounds perfect!"

Linda smiled back at the young man, not quite understanding his enthusiasm but appreciating it nonetheless. "Oh Jason, you remember Jack and Sean dontcha?" The blonde had nodded down the line in her kids direction, they both looked up at the sound of their names and waved politely.

"Oh course I do!" Jason replied eagerly, waving right back. "Got the whole family with you today huh?"

Linda nodded. "Practically had to drag 'em with me but here they are. My niece was here a minute ago too, actually, doing her community service for school. You want salad or mashed potatoes with your stroganoff?"

"Well darn, sorry I missed her….uh, mash potatoes please."

"She's gonna be helping out here for a while, I'll introduce you next time." The nurse said, handing Jason his finished plate.

"Why, thank you kindly!" the young man exclaimed cheerfully before moving over to the dessert section. "What's up little man, think I can snag a couple of these bad boys?"

—

Jason sat down quickly, taking advantage of a space that'd just opened up. Crammed elbow to elbow between kids and their parents, he sat diagonal from Mac who immediately relaxed. Jason made idle conversation with their tablemates as they ate, telling jokes, making the kids laugh.

As more people began clearing their plates and getting up he leaned in closer to Mac, "See," he said in a loud whisper. "I told ya everything would be fine. Loosen up a little."

Mac nodded, taking a bite out of an orange slice. "This is nice." She said contentedly.

Jason agreed. It felt good to be able to get out and socialize for a little. The pair ate slowly, and when they were finished the kept going back for refills on lemonade as an excuse to stay a little longer.

They meandered around the periphery of the room, cups in hand, people-watching, pointing out trivial things like the children's art work on the walls to pass the time.

"You looking for a dog walker Mac?," they'd stopped in front of two large bulletin boards, the left of which was completely covered in colorful flyers and advertisements. "How 'bout somebody to wash your car for you."

"No, thanks. I can't let just anybody touch my ride ya know, she's vintage. Very expensive." the girl said plainly, perusing the board. "How 'bout somebody to wash your windows?"

"I have, like, so many windows," Jason said, smirking. "I should definitely look into that!"

"Oh here's a good one!" Mac exclaimed, her brown eyes sparkling. "Toilet scrubber!" The two burst into a fit of laughter.

"What's all this?" Mac asked curiously, stepping closer to the board on the right.

"Oh, that's Mom's board." Jason explained. The cork board on the right was covered in missing person posters, a mosaic of faces of various races and ages; from the very young to the very old. Some posters were aged and worn, some were new.

"Mom's board?"

"Yeah she started it. She's real passionate about this stuff."

"Weird hobby," Mac mumbled, eyes scanning the board inquisitively.

The young man shrugged. "She comes by homeless camps with posters too, asking if we've seen people. It's like her thing…Hey, you wanna see if there's any brownies left over?"

Mac didn't answer. Instead she stood staring at the board, brown eyes fixed on the mosaic and pale like she'd seen a ghost.

"Mac? Hey! Hey kid, what's the matter?" Jason said, at once concerned.

She snapped out of it with a shake of herhead. "Huh? Oh nothing! Nothing."

Jason frowned. "Nah, not nothing. You looked real freaked out for a minute there Big Mac."

The girl sighed, looking embarrassed. "I just…I thought I—I thought I recognized myself up there for a second."

Oh. That explained it. "Want me to take it down?" Jason said instantly, scanning the overflowing board with fresh eyes.

"It wasn't me," Mac said quickly. "I thought it was but it wasn't. Sorry I freaked out."

That was one thing Jason remembered about being a runaway. You were constantly worried about being found out. It made you paranoid.

He put his arm around the shorter girl's shoulder. "No worries kid. Tell ya what, we'll pocket the brownies and then we'll go 'kay?"

Mac grinned impishly, her dimples on full display. "Race ya!"

A/N: I apologize for the large gap in between chapters. I hope the longer than usual length of this chapter will make up for my absence.

As always, any Comments and Theories would be greatly appreciated!