Broken Fairytales part 5
by Phantaz-Magoria

Warning! This chapter is somewhat darker than previous ones and includes some non-consensual goings on. Be afraid...

* * *

Late in the evening…

"Hey, mister. You got an extra one of those?"

The stranger looked up from lighting his cigarette.

"Jesus, kid, what are you, twelve?"

The young man bristled. "I'll be nineteen this year."

The stranger shook his head. Nineteen… He was used to seeing kids in this alleyway. It was the bad part of town, right outside one of the worst bars in town. People came here for one of two reasons; to lose themselves or to lose everyone else.

He never asked what went on in the building next door. It wasn't his business… not any more. Drugs and prostitution at least, judging by the kids he met in this alleyway. This one was interesting, slightly different somehow. A little less lost than the other ones. He was dressed much more tastefully than most of the other boys the stranger had seen back here. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just a black leather vest that hung open to reveal a lean torso covered in some sort of silvery, shimmery body paint. He had fishnet sleeves that ended in black biking gloves and a pair of leather pants that hung indecently low on his hips and looked like they could have been painted on, they were so tight. His black hair had been gelled and tussled and spiked to look alluring and he had beautiful brown eyes, framed by smoky blue eye shadow and black liner.

He was gorgeous if you were into that sort of thing.

The stranger could only imagine what he himself looked like. His clothes were wrinkled, his beard was scraggly. He hadn't had a hair cut in too long of a time. He probably looked like a homeless bum. He pulled an extra cigarette out and handed it over.

"Thanks." The kid's hands were shaking as he took it. "Got a light?"

"Yeah." He held the lighter while the young man leaned forward and tried to hold the end of the cigarette steady in the flame. He was shaking too much to be successful and the stranger placed his own hand on the kid's to help steady him until the cigarette was lit. The kid smiled gratefully and stepped back, taking a quick puff and blowing the smoke out.

The stranger took a closer look. The young man was trembling from head to foot and the stranger chuckled. "If you're cold, kid, you shoulda worn more clothes."

"Cold doesn't bother me too much. Can't really feel it."

"Yeah? You're shivering."

"Too much coffee. Or maybe its nerves, I guess."

"Huh." Couldn't blame the kid for being nervous. "What brings you to this place anyway?"

"A job." The young man sighed, mixed emotions drifting across his face. "Just a job."

The stranger knew he was going to regret asking. "What kind of a job?"

The kid shrugged. "Dancing, mostly. Just dance and smile and look pretty…"

"This isn't one of those gigs where folk want you to do more than just dance and look pretty?"

The kid looked at him with sharp brown eyes that seemed to carry all the sadness of the world in them. "I've been trying not to think of that part."

"Why are you here if you don't want to think about it? Why do this sort of thing?"

The young man shrugged and smiled ironically. "Like carnivores to carnal pleasures so will we to desperate measures."

"Cute. Who said it?"

"I think it's part of a song, actually."

"So, that's it? You're desperate?"

"Pretty much sums up the state of affairs, yeah."

"People that desperate for money usually only use it for one thing."

"Ferrari's?"

"I was going to say drugs."

"If it was just the drugs, I wouldn't do this sort of thing."

"So, I was right. You are a user."

"I think the correct term is addict."

"Addict, user… What's the difference?"

"The difference is that drugs use me, it certainly isn't the other way around. If I could stop, I would."

"Then why don't you?"

"Because I can't."

"Lots of people say that. They've got programs that can help."

"They can't help me." The young man took a final drag off the cigarette before dropping the butt on the ground and scuffing it out with the toe of his boot. "If it was just the drugs, I wouldn't do this sort of thing."

"You said that."

"Did I?"

"Yeah."

The kid shook his head, trying to shake off whatever daze he was in.

"Alcohol is just another drug. I won't judge yours if you don't judge mine."

"Alcohol doesn't kill people."

"That's a load of shit and you know it."

"Watch the swearing, kid."

The young man's head shot up and the glassy look in the brown eyes faded just a bit. "Excuse me?"

"I said, take it easy on the swearing."

"Do I know you? You seem awfully familiar, have we met before?"

A memory floated just behind his eyes, so close he could reach out and touch it. But it was one of THOSE memories. The ones that looked so tantalizing, but trying to grasp them was like trying to grab shards of glass with your bare hands. The harder you tried to hold it, the deeper it cut until it was so slick with blood you couldn't hold onto it anyway.

He had learned long ago to be content that he had memories, even if he couldn't always remember what they were about. There was something about this stranger that he remembered or maybe it just reminded him of someone he used to know. But there was definitely a memory there.

The stranger seemed to be struggling with his own memories. "Not unless you were friends with my boy. You ever meet a kid named Ambrose Wilson?"

Ambrose…

Gears slid into place and suddenly this stranger had a name and he could REMEMBER it!

Wyatt Cain, Officer Wyatt Cain, Badge number 221, married to Adora Cain, father of Jeb Cain AND Ambrose Wilson Cain, Ambrose, Ambrose… Ambrose!

And then, all too soon, the elation he felt at remembering something, anything, that had happened more than just a few hours ago died with the sick realization that he wasn't Ambrose anymore. That happy memory didn't belong to him and pretending that it did… or had… was useless. All it would bring was pain and sadness and hadn't they both already suffered enough?

It wouldn't be right. He couldn't… the man must have gotten used to him being gone by now. If the man knew who he was, it would only crush him harder when he died again.

With a sigh of despair, he let the memory go, watched it drift away into the back recesses of his brain, a thin wisp of shadow that he would never see again. "No. No, I don't know anyone named Ambrose."

The stranger's eyes, bloodshot and so painfully hopeful for that split second, dimmed in disappointment. "No, I guess you wouldn't, would you?"

The memory was gone completely now and Glitch couldn't remember why the stranger looked so sad or why he felt so bad about it. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I just… For a moment I thought… You look a lot like one of my boys. I thought you might have been him, for a second."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. I'm too old to be jumping at ghosts. He, uh… He would have been your age by now."

"What happened to him?"

"Beaten to death by a drug dealer. Him and his brother. My wife too."

Glitch couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he said again, "I'm sorry."

"Happened a couple years ago. Drinking is the only thing that helps me forget. I've been kicked out of every bar in town. This is the only place that lets me get as drunk as I need to and leaves me in peace."

"You don't seem that drunk. A little, but not bad."

"I got another hour before they close. I'm just getting warmed up."

"Ever thought about quitting?"

"Nope. Never thought about quitting."

"They've got programs that help with that sort of thing, don't they?"

The stranger with the blue eyes growled. "Thought you weren't going to lecture me if I laid off you and your drug habit."

"Changed my mind. You look like you need saving. I seem to be in the business these days."

"You're going to save me? That's rich, kid."

"You seem like the sort of person who deserves it."

"Yeah? Okay. I'll play along. How are you going to save me?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet. I'll think of something. I used to be good at thinking of things… now…"

The door to the building swung open just then, and a nasty looking bouncer looked out. "What the hell you doing out here, Glitch? You want me to tell Zero you skipped out on the job? Get your ass back in there!"

The look on the stranger's face was one of horror and revulsion. "Zero? You work for Zero?!" The stranger grabbed Glitch by the vest and slammed him up against the brick wall so hard his skull cracked against it and lights flashed behind his eyes. "You didn't tell me you worked for that sorry son of a bitch!"

Glitch cringed in fright, not fighting or struggling, even though his tip toes barely touched the ground. "Y-y-you don't understand… I don't have a choice."

The bouncer stepped fully into the alleyway. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to step back."

Cold blue eyes darted sideways to glance at him. "What's it to you?"

"This gentleman has been bought and paid for and I can't allow you to damage the merchandise."

The look of intense loathing on the stranger's face made Glitch's belly lurch uncomfortably. With a sneer, the stranger dropped him and wiped his hands on his pants

"You disgust me."

Glitch watched him walk back into the bar an unnameable misery crawling at his insides in time with the fire creeping along his skin.

The bouncer shot him a sympathetic look. "Come on, kid, you only got another minute or so before they notice you're missing."

Glitch looked at the door the stranger had disappeared behind one last time before nodding and following the bouncer into the dark hallway.

* * *

Some time ago…

"Hey, Ambrose! Come give me a hand here!"

Ambrose dropped his school bag at the entrance to the garage. Cain was leaning over the hood of a beat up old corvette.

"What do you need, Dad?" It was still weird saying it, but the smile on Cain's face every time he did was worth forcing himself to get used to it.

"Well, I bought this pretty hunk of junk here for a song at the auction today. Trouble is, it doesn't run."

Ambrose stood next to him and examined the engine. "Seems kind of silly to buy a car that doesn't run, doesn't it?"

Cain smiled. "Well, that's the point. You're going to help me fix it."

"I am?"

"Sure. It wouldn't be your car if you didn't invest some good old blood, sweat, and tears into her."

Ambrose's eyes twinkled in delight. "My car?"

"Your car."

"Wow…" He ran his hands lovingly over the front left fender.

"Well? You like her?"

"I think she's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. You didn't have to, you know? I was just joking about getting a car for my birthday."

Cain smiled. "Well, I missed the tree house building stage with you. The way I figure, this will be a great way to catch up on all those father-son projects we might have missed out on."

Ambrose ducked his head, not quite sure how to express how happy he was just now. Cain saw his struggle and reached over to ruffle his hair.

"First thing's first though. We have to inventory everything that needs fixing. That way we've got an idea what needs to be started first. We'll keep track of everything in a journal and your first job as assistant mechanic is to take really good notes..."

* * *

Present day…

When Wyatt Cain left the bar an hour and a half later, the first thing he heard were screams for help that were quickly silenced and muffled shouts. A scuffle, the sound of something hard banging against a metal trash can once… twice. He neared the corner and looked around. He couldn't see anybody, but he could hear the scuffling from behind the dumpster.

"Hold his arms, dammit!"

Another cry, muffled by some sort of gag.

"Keep him still!"

"We're trying, Chaz!"

Cain had finished rounding the dumpster and the sight he saw made him sick. Three men held down the young kid that he had been talking to earlier face down on the concrete. His face was beaten and bloody and tears traced wet mascara streaks and silver paint down the side of his face. He was screaming, but the noise was blocked by the dirty rag stuffed in his mouth. One of the men had wrapped a belt around his neck and had it cinched tight.

That wasn't even the most disturbing part of the scene. The three men had pulled Glitch's tight leather pants down to his ankles. One of them was pulling his own pants back up and it looked like another was getting ready to take his turn.

Cold fury burned in Cain's chest. He was too drunk to care that he was outnumbered three to one. He grabbed a broken beer bottle from the ground and stepped forward, growling, "Get your filthy hands off him!"

The effect was immediate. All three of them jumped away from the cowering body at their feet, looking just as if they'd been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. It only took them a moment to recover and the ringleader stepped forward, a sneer on his face as he rubbed his jaw.

"Hey, check it out guys! Don't you recognize him? It's that ex-cop who's family we fucked over couple years ago."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? Where's your shiny star now, tin man?"

"About to get shoved up your ass in a minute, boy."

The three circled around him like a pack of dogs and he crouched, ready to meet their attack. It never came. The leader scoffed. "Come on. He's nothing but an old drunk and a waste of our time. But I'm sure Zero would love to hear about it. Let's go."

The wolf pack laughed and snickered and howled, but they were careful to keep just out of Cain's reach as they left. He waited until he was certain they were gone before he dropped the broken bottle.

Now he could turn his attention to the young man that still crouched on the ground. He had managed to pull his pants up and was trying to wipe the blood and scum from his face with little success.

Cain touched the boy lightly on the arm, wincing inwardly at his violent, terrified flinch.

"Hey, kid? You doing alright?"

"I'm f-f-fine."

"You sure don't look fine." Cain watched Glitch with sympathetic eyes as the young man tried to make himself more presentable. Cain pulled a wadded up napkin out of his pocket and handed it to Glitch so he could at least get most of the drying semen off his face. He was shaking all over, sweating. His skin was hot to the touch in spite of the frigid temperatures tonight. Aside from being beaten to a pulp and raped, the boy was obviously extremely ill. "You sure you're alright?"

"Why should you c-c-care?"

"What I said to you before… that was wrong of me. I've got no right to judge you. Think you could forgive me?"

"I d-d-don't know."

"Well, I guess that's honest." Glitch sniffled and two new tears rolled quickly down his cheeks. Cain reached up to rub them away. "Hey, come on, now. You don't need to cry. I know it hurts, but you're a tough kid…"

"I'm not crying cause it hurts, I'm crying because I really needed that money! I don't know what I'm going to do!" Glitch couldn't stop himself from breaking down any longer. The pain was too much, the whole day had just been too much. Every one of his joints felt like they'd been dipped in molten lava and the stabbing pain that had been crawling across his skin for the last hour was starting to move deeper to his insides. He doubled over, agony and misery ripping through his body. He was trying desperately to hold himself together and knowing full well that he couldn't anymore. Tears flowed freely as he began to weep and sob in fearful desperation.

Cain couldn't stand it anymore. He pulled the young man's quivering body into his arms and began to rock him, holding him as tight as he dared, as he would have held his son to comfort him from a nightmare.

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. I promise, everything's going to be okay. You're gonna get through this."

"I c-c-can't!" he wailed and turned his head into Cain's shoulder and clutched at his shirt.

Cain held him tighter. "You can! I don't know much about you, kid, but I know that you're strong, so much stronger than this and you're gonna be alright."

With a strong exertion of will, Glitch was able to calm himself and even his breathing out. "This was my last chance to make everything alright and I screwed it up. Without that money, I'm going to die and DG… She's going to be lost…"

"You're not gonna die, Glitch. You're just going through withdrawal. It's not pleasant, but it's not gonna kill you, either."

His voice was quiet and world weary, "I can't make you understand…"

"Who's DG?"

"She's my… She's my sister. She's in the hospital. I can't pay for it… that's why I needed the money. They're going to take her away and I promised her I would look after her… promised… p-p-promised…"

"Glitch? Glitch! Stay with me, kid!" The young man's eyes had rolled up into the back of his head and the shaking of his limbs intensified into a full blown seizure. It didn't last very long. Fifteen… twenty seconds maybe. It seemed to Cain that his heart hadn't beat once in that entire time. "Glitch?"

With a gasp, the boy opened his eyes and lurched up. Cain held him tight. "Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. Just stay still."

Confused brown eyes looked up into his then rolled around wildly to take in his environment. He looked at Cain again and licked his lips, looking even more confused than before while he shivered uncontrollably. His voice was tentative and quiet. "My name's Glitch. Have we…?" His body continued to tremble in Cain's arms. "Do I…" He blinked once, twice. "I know you… don't I?"

It was Cain's turn to look confused. "Yeah, kid. You know me. We met a couple hours ago."

"Hours? Wh… what time is it?"

"Close to three thirty."

His body tensed and he tried to stand up. "Shit! I'm late!"

Cain held him down. "Easy, kid!"

He struggled to free himself from Cain's protective hold on him. "I was supposed to meet Zero at midnight, I'm late! Let me go! Please?"

A lump formed in Cain's throat. "You already met him, Glitch. Don't you remember?"

His face fell as realization dawned in his eyes. He relaxed back into Cain's hold. His voice was quiet, scared. "I glitched again…" He looked around the alley way. "What happened? Did I… get mugged, or something?"

"Yeah, you did. You're hurt pretty bad, but I'm taking you to the hospital and you're gonna be just fine."

"Oh. Okay."

The kid's eyes rolled back again and his head dropped against Cain's shoulder. Cain tensed, waiting for another seizure. Thankfully, it didn't come but in the few short minutes they'd been talking, it seemed like Glitch's fever had climbed even higher if possible. He had to get him to a hospital fast.

He got to his feet and hoisted Glitch in his arms, grunting in surprise. "God, kid, I've carried around German Sheppards that weigh more than you do."

Just outside the alley, he was able to flag down a taxi. If the driver thought there was anything strange about a man who'd obviously had plenty to drink carrying an unconscious teenage boy dressed up as a male prostitute, he kept his opinions to himself. Perhaps the fact that the kid had another full blown seizure within seconds of getting into the car might have convinced the reluctant cabbie to shut up and drive.

Between that and Glitch's continual lapses in and out of consciousness, the ten minute ride was the most harrowing of Cain's life. He didn't know why he cared so much about the fate of this one kid that he had only met hours before, but he knew deep down that he was important somehow, as if saving him would somehow turn back time and allow him to save one of the people that he had been powerless to save two years ago.

The taxi pulled up outside of the Emergency Room and Cain threw a wad of bills at the driver before hastily carrying the thin, shaking young man into the hospital. He was met just inside the sliding doors by a nurse with a gurney. He gently placed the shuddering body on the bed as the nurse asked, "What happened?"

"He was raped. At first I thought he was just in shock, but he's had three or four seizures in the last twenty minutes…"

Another nurse had joined them and was starting strip Glitch's clothes off him right there in the waiting room while she called instructions. "His fever's too high, we have to get him into an ice bath, now!"

Cain watched, eyes wide with concern as they frantically wheeled him to the back.

"Sir?"

He shook his head. "Sorry?"

"Sir, I noticed there were needle tracks on his arms. Has he taken any sort of drugs tonight?"

"I, uh… I don't really know. It's possible. I know he's an addict."

"Do you know what drugs he does take?"

"No, no I really don't…" Cain rubbed the back of his neck.

"Erebus." Cain and the nurse turned to look at the twelve year old black kid that had come to stand by them. He had nice sneakers and a basketball in one hand. His other hand was wrapped in gauze. "He does Erebus."

The nurse blanched. "Erebus? Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure, lady. Glitch used to be my best friend before he got involved in that shit. Sorry, that crap."

The nurse didn't wait to ask more questions. She ran to the back to deliver this tiny bit of information. Cain looked down at the kid.

"What's your name?"

"Shoe."

"So, you know Glitch, huh?"

"Yeah. He looked out for me when I first got put in the foster home. He was a pretty cool guy back then."

"What happened?"

"Well… first he got adopted. That was cool. I mean, it sucked that he was leaving and all, but it was cool that he was happy. And he still came around to shoot hoops with me, so that was okay."

"But something worse happened?"

"Yeah. There was this kid at the high school that wanted Glitch to make drugs for him. He used to be a whiz at that science and biology stuff. But Glitch said that he didn't want to have anything to do with that, so they kidnapped his family and said they'd kill them if he didn't do what they wanted, so he gave in."

Cain's heart skipped a beat. It was so similar… too similar to be just a coincidence. He gestured to the kid to follow him over to the seats so he could sit down. The boy sat next to him.

"I guess under the circumstances, giving in isn't so bad. So what happened next?"

"Well, he made their crap for them just like they wanted and they killed his family anyway. Then they beat him up and tested the drug on him to make sure it worked right. They kept him around for a while, I guess. They needed him to make their drugs for them so they kept him locked up. It was like he'd gone and disappeared. Then one day, he slips and forgets to keep the formula secret and they get it from him, so now they don't need him around and they kick him out on the street, right? Well, he makes his way back to Mrs. Jensen's house, but she won't have anything to do with drug dealers and stuff, so she kicks him out too and threatens to call the cops if she sees him again. He spent the next couple of months living in the basement at school. I'd smuggle him food and stuff. Then he gets found out and has to move again. Kind of a sucky way to live, you know?"

"Yeah, no kidding."

"He used to be a really good guy. He didn't deserve any of this. For a while he thought he did. Deserve it, you know? For getting his family killed."

"What changed?"

"Nothing really. He just forgot. Erebus makes you forget." Cain and the little boy were quiet for a time. Then the boy looked up at Cain. "Is he gonna be alright?"

"I hope so. Tell me something, Shoe. His name wasn't always 'Glitch' was it?"

He didn't know how he knew what the answer was going to be. It was just a feeling of dread and despair that had settled into his gut. A feeling that was stronger and more poignant than the alcohol he constantly tried to drown himself in.

He knew the answer before the kid even opened his mouth.

"No. It used to be Ambrose."

* * *

TBC…

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviews =) They make me happy. I'm sorry this got darker, but I promise there is a light at the end of the tunnel somewhere. Also, the lyric mentioned is from a song called 'What You Live By' by Harvey Danger. Anyway, hope you all liked it.