The second chapter in my latest abomination. I dunno what I'm doing here. I don't own a damn thing.

NK


(Five Years Later)

"Set 'em up Marlene." A bony, frail brunette pulled herself up on a bar stool.

"Another bad day?" Marlene asked from behind the bar, handing a fresh whiskey on the rocks to the rusty furred patron at the stool just beside the she-kat she was speaking to.

"You could say that." Claire eyed the tom next to her before looking back at Marlene. "Tequila."

"You got fired, didn't you?"

Claire shrugged. "'Fired' is such a nasty word. It's right up there with 'orphan' and 'decapitation' on the list of words I cringe when I hear."

"You shouldn't joke about it, Claire." Marlene reprimanded. "Why'd you get fired?"

Claire couldn't help but notice how the kat next to her was twitching an ear in her direction. She shot him a dirty look before looking back at the bartender. "You could say I failed a test."

Marlene gave her a hard look as she set up a row of shot glasses. "What are you going to do? You're roommates aren't going to let you mooch off them that much longer?"

Claire took two shots and looked up at Marlene. "You aren't looking for a waitress, are you?"

"Not unless you cleaned your act up." Marlene glared.

"I didn't think so," Claire sighed. She glared at the kat next to her. "Alright, pal, since you're hearing my story... what's a kat like you doing in a dump like this?"

"Claire my bar is not a dump!" Marlene slammed the bottle of tequila down on the counter just as the kat in question pushed his empty tumbler towards her. "And you... if I have to call Chance tonight, he's going to be pissed."

"He's always pissed." The kat replied quietly, pulling out his wallet. "One more."

Marlene shook her head but took the money, her graying ears falling forward.

"Well come on, out with it." Claire pushed, signaling Marlene to set up some more shots. She studied the tom. He was young, probably in his late twenties. But his clothes were baggy and disheveled, and his fur was a mess.

"You first." He squinted at her with one eye. "You're the stranger, not me."

"I'm not a stranger. I used to work here." Claire eyed the new line of shot glasses. "When I was a teen, I used to wait tables for Marley here until..." She trailed off.

"Til what?" Jake snorted. "You got hooked on meth and started hooking for a living?"

"Jake!" Marlene snapped. "I'm not proud of the choices Claire has made in her life, but she is in no way close to being a hooker. And I won't tolerate you causing any trouble tonight."

"No." Claire snapped at the sarcastic tom. "Until my mother was killed."

"Oh." Jake softened and downed his drink, nodding his head at Marlene. "And how'd that happen?"

"The Swat Kats." Claire quickly took her shots, shaking her head as a chill ran down her spine. "She got stuck in a building during an evacuation. And one of those stupid so called 'hero's' weapons..." She made a slicing motion across her throat followed by a barely audible 'shink.'

Jake felt his jaw drop. "That was your mom?"

Claire gave him a funny look. "What? You knew her or something?"

He gulped down his last drink and pulled out his wallet. "I gotta go, Mar." Jake plucked a business card from his wallet and set it down forcefully near one of Claire's paws. "I might be able to help you." He staggered away from the stool and dug for his keys. "Shit," he cursed. "Come on Marley..."

"Nope," she sighed. "If you can wait another ten minutes, my shift is almost up and I can take you home."

"Awesome," Jake mumbled.

Chance heard the floorboards creak all the way down in the hangar as he worked on the upgrades to the Turbokat. True to his word, Jake hadn't picked up his flight suit since that one night five years ago. "Nope," Chance thought bitterly. "Instead, he traded a glovatrix for a bottle." He sighed. As much as he wanted to just kick Jake to the curb and be done with it, that kat was his best friend. And they were the closest thing to family that each other had. It didn't help that they still owed a ton of money to Feral, and Jake still did his job, mostly. When he managed to pull himself out of bed and out of the haze from the late night before. The tabby's thought process was interrupted when he heard Jake's boots echoing on the concrete steps leading down into the hangar. He snapped his head up. It was a rare thing for his friend to come down those stairs.

"What's going on, Jake?" Chance studied him. He could smell the alcohol even though he was several feet from his friend. "Marlene drop you off?"

"I found her, Chance." Jake lowered himself unsteadily to the steps and leaned against the subterranean wall.

"Found who?"

"The she-kat whose life I ruined." His head thumped softly against the cold brick surface behind him. "Her name's Claire."

Chance sighed loudly. "I already told you Jake, there's nothing you can do to..."

"I gave her our business card." Jake cut him off. "She needs a job."

"Jake are you nuts?!" Chance dropped what he was doing to glare at the kat slumped on the steps.

"I fucked up her life! What was I s'posed to do? Just walk away?" Jake defended himself.

"That's just great and all except for all of this!" Chance gestured wildly at the Turbokat and surrounding items. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

Jake's jaw hung open as he struggled to find a response.

"Exactly," Chance said, shaking head head. "So what're we going to do if she comes looking for a job? Rig up some sort of silent alarm?"

"That could work." Jake mused.

Chance rolled his eyes. "As thrilled as I am to see you interested in something, that was a rhetorical question. It's not going to work."

"It will work." Jake said. "It has to."

It was the desperate lilt in his voice that had Chance hanging his head. He filled his lungs and exhaled slowly. "Let's see if she even shows up first."

"Alright," Jake clumsily pushed himself up.

"And Jake..." Chance sighed. "I'll let her work here on one condition."
"What's that?" Jake leaned heavily on the railing overlooking the hangar.

"Stop drinking."

It was Jake's turn to roll his eyes. He did so as he turned away.

"I'm serious Jake. How do you expect to fix someone else's life when you can't even manage your own?"

Jake hung his head. He knew Chance was right. And it pissed him off. "Yeah, okay," he said and went back up the stairs.

"Who am I kidding?" Chance asked aloud once he was alone. If he was honest with himself, he never expected it to come to this. In the beginning, right after the incident, he'd silently put his partner and friend on suicide watch. Chance had truly been afraid his best friend was going to eat his gun or something. Instead, he drank himself stupid and didn't get out of bed for two weeks. From there, it turned into a nightly thing. And he didn't know who that kat thought he was fooling when he finally decided to grace the day with his presence. Chance knew the smell of vodka when it hit him. Orange juice wasn't that clever of a disguise. He sighed. "I'm gonna get you back, buddy. I don't care what it takes."

Jake dropped fully clothed onto his unmade bed and pulled the nearly empty liquor bottle out from under his pillow. What had he expected? She was clearly on drugs. Had to be coke or meth. Something that broke you down and made you thin. He snorted. Did that make him pot or kettle? He'd certainly lost his fair share of weight as muscle deteriorated and his body ate itself in place of the of nutrients it wasn't getting. He was far thinner than he'd ever been. Shaking his head, Jake grabbed the remote to his stereo and clicked it on. It shuffled through the discs, seeming to settle on the right songs for his mood. "Mes excuses, Claire." He tipped the bottle as if he were making a toast before turning it up. "Claire is a French name, right?" He asked out loud after swallowing the mouthful of harsh liquid.

Chance pushed open Jake's door. He didn't bother tip toeing around or anything. He knew Jake would be out like a light by this time. And he wasn't disappointed as he found his friend slumped against his pillow, a bottle containing probably an ounce and a half of liquor dangerously close to falling onto the floor hanging precariously from one of his paws. Chance turned off the stereo and plucked the bottle from his friend's grasp. Jake didn't so much as twitch.

"You're going to hate me in the morning." Chance said as he pulled Jake's shoes off and tried to work the blankets out from under the ginger tom. "But you're going to thank me later." He thought of all the times over the past five years that he'd held his friend up at night, all the times he'd been called from the bar, all the times the alarm had gone off and he'd had to fly solo because his weapons systems operator was MIA or passed out on the kitchen floor, because he'd given up. After getting Jake tucked into bed, Chance began his search. After thirty minutes, he'd managed to come up with several glass bottles, some empty, others nearly full. And that was just the bed room. Using his shoulder to hit the light and his foot to close the door, the tabby took his find to the kitchen, where he combed through the cabinets and the refrigerator. Finally, he dumped the bottles in the sink and dropped the empty glass in the trash. Chance tied it up and took it out to the can.

As usual, Marlene left Jake's motorcycle keys in the mailbox. Chance picked them up and got in the tow truck. It was a twenty minute drive there and back.

"I should've done this before it got out of hand." He reprimanded himself as he locked up the bike in the hangar and hooked Jake's keys on his own.

Jake woke up with his heart beating in his head and the sun burning against his fur. "Ungh..." He risked cracking an eye open. "I thought I closed the blinds..." he mumbled. "Mmm... whatever." Jake rolled over tiredly and pulled one of his pillows over his head. The sound of a horn honking loudly outside reminded him that it was a work day. If Burke and Murray were dropping off their usual load of junk, then it was close to lunch time. "Way to go, Jake." He snorted and pushed himself up. The familiar nausea crept up inside of him and he reached under his pillow. "What the..?" Frowning, he dug his arm between the bed and the table. "That's weird..." Jake tried to remember the night before. He didn't remember moving after settling down on his bed, but then his shoes were off and so was the music. "Must've finished it..." His legs protested against his weight and he wobbled unsteadily towards the door.

After several seemingly disoriented movements, Jake managed to move from his room to the kitchen. He poured a glass of orange juice, managing to only spill half of it. Then he set the glass on the counter and opened the cupboard. He narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

The door opened. "Hey Jake. That Claire girl is here. I told her I'd get you." Chance looked from Jake to the open cupboard. "What are you looking for?"

"Did you come in my room last night?"

"We'll talk about it later. Come on. You want to help this girl out or not?" Chance cocked his head towards the garage.

"Yeah..." Jake quickly chugged his juice, nearly choking on the taste. It hit his stomach like lead.

Claire was standing in the open bay with her paws buried deep in her pockets. Her chocolate brown fur looked dull and her clothes seemed to match Jake's as far as wrinkles and filth went. It didn't seem to phase her at all that Jake was wearing the exact same thing he'd been wearing at the bar the night before. In the daylight, however, she could see the telltale signs of an alcoholic. "Who am I to judge?" She thought.

"You know anything about cars?" Chance asked, since Jake hadn't seemed to think about that.

"A little bit." Claire shrugged.

"How much is a little bit?" He fought to keep the worried look off his face.

Claire smirked. "What do I gotta take a test or something?"

Chance shrugged. "That's not a bad idea."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Alright look. I've been on my own since I was 16. I drive that piece of shit nineteen eighty something death trap and I've managed to keep it running in spite of not having a single job last more than a couple months. If you want, go look under the hood and see how badly I've fucked it up."

"Alright," Chance held out his paw for the key.

Claire chuckled. "It's in the ignition."

Chance shot Jake a look and jerked his head towards the car. "What is she on?" He asked when she was out of earshot.

Jake shrugged and wiped his paws on his jeans. His palms were suddenly feeling sweaty. "I dunno." He went around to the driver's side door and got in. His paw froze just above the ignition. "Um.... okay..."

"Huh?" Chance asked, waiting for him to pop the hood.

"Hang on..." Jake studied the steering column for a moment, shaking his head when he realized she'd rigged it to start straight from the wiring. "Heh," he chuckled and reached down to pull the lever for the hood. It popped open and Jake touched the wires together to start the car. He got out and walked over to the she-kat.

"Is that car yours?" Jake licked his lips. He really needed a drink.

"Yeah." Claire rolled her eyes. "I broke the key off in the ignition and I couldn't afford to fix it the right way so I had to ghetto rig it."

"Ghetto rig it?" Jake's ears twitched. "You hot wired that sucker."

"Tch'yeah well..." Claire looked down at her feet. "I was kinda out of options."

His ears flattened against his head and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd be in college instead if her mother was still alive.

Chance didn't have to look at Jake to see the look of self-loathing on his face. He walked around to the driver's side and looked at the ignition. With a sigh he shut it off. His eyes did a quick study of the interior of her car. It was littered with several lighters. Under the pretense of looking at the ignition panel, Chance slid into the driver's seat. He looked up to see if they were looking before reaching for the glove box. It was locked. He tried the console in the middle. Locked too. He shot her a suspicious look as he got back out.

"Alright so here's the deal." Chance wiped his paws on his coveralls. "You can have this job on a few conditions."

"Okay." Claire waited. "Hit me."

"One: first time you come in messed up, you're fired. Two: don't ask questions. You see something weird, you don't ask. In turn, if I see something weird, I'll keep my mouth shut. And three: don't bring anything shady here."

"When can I start?" She asked.

"Tomorrow. Ten in the morning." Chance watched her go before turning to Jake. He pointed an accusing claw in his face. "I'm doing this for you."

Jake looked down at his feet, shivering slightly as Chance brushed past him to go back inside the garage.

"You gonna help me sort through this junk or are you just going to stand there?" Chance called over his shoulder.

Jake turned around and walked back towards the garage. Something glinted in the trash and he glanced at the can. The label on an empty cheap whiskey bottle reflected the sun through the clear plastic. A sharp, longing feeling stabbed him in the gut. What was Chance doing to him?

tbc...

Here are a few songs I owe for helping me get through this. And writing this story too:

Vermillion Pt 2 By Slipknot

Who I am Hates Who I've Been by Reliant K

Hate Me by Blue October

All My Problems by Smile Empty Soul

Zzyzx Rd by Stone Sour

Burn by Three Days Grace

45 (the acoustic version) by Shinedown

Coma White by Marilyn Manson

Black Balloon by The Goo Goo Dolls

Suicide Is Painless by Manic Street Preachers

and many many more... I actually put together a playlist on my zune and that lead to this....