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"There'sss the couch. Bathroom at the top of the ssstairs."

That was all Aaron said before heading upstairs and leaving Marcus to himself. The teen hadn't expected some kind of grand tour, but getting brought into a stranger's house and then just left in the hallway made him feel more than a little awkward. Given everything Melody had told him earlier, he was surprised that Aaron didn't lay out a set of rules or insist that he spend the night locked in a spare room.

Marcus rubbed his eyes, trying to get his focus in the dim front room. He walked over to the indicated sofa, sitting carefully down on it half expecting it to collapse under his meager weight. The springs creaked, the leather was cracked, but miraculously he didn't fall through. There was a television across the room, its smallish screen reflecting the jackalope's image back at him in the moonlight. He thought about turning it on, but had a feeling that would upset his host. Marcus was struck with this feeling of intrusion, that he needed to move as carefully as possible despite having been invited in.

"I wonder if this is how Corey felt," he thought to himself.

Whether it was because of how late it was (Marcus hadn't checked the time), the amount of walking he'd done, or the potent liquor sitting in his stomach, Marcus Lewis was absolutely exhausted. As apprehensive as he should have been to be lying on a couch in the serpent's home, the antlered lapine couldn't keep awake any longer. He eased his head down and drifted off to sleep.

Back home, Marcus was a vivid dreamer. Sometimes whirlwinds of anxiety, chased by the villains of his daily life while his legs were leaden and unable to move. Sometimes fantasies of what he imagined life could have been if this or that were different. Sometimes off the wall science fiction with no bearing on reality at all. No matter what it was, he usually emerged in the morning having gone through a cinematic journey, one that he would have loved to talk about if anyone was interested.

In the last week, his dreams were black. He felt, but didn't see. They had no cast of characters or plotlines, just a swirl of frightening sounds and terror that had him bolt awake hours before he would normally arise, and lie still for a while longer hoping to at least get some more rest without falling back into the abyss.

When his eyes snapped open with that familiar gasp of air as his heart rebooted, he quickly looked around, reminding himself of his surroundings. The serpent's dingy living room greeted him once again, with Aaron himself reclined in a chair on the other wall, the television on, muted with the captions transcribing dialogue.

Marcus blinked, sitting up. "What time is it?"

Aaron snickered. "Ssstill morning, don't worry. How'd you sssleep?"

It took a few seconds for Marcus to get his bearings again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his ears picking up on the television's audio as it was unmuted.

"How long have you been down here?"

"Long enough. You're a little angel while you're sssleeping. I didn't want to wake you."

Marcus looked around the room a moment, getting a better survey of it now that the sunlight was coming in through the windows. In the light, it didn't look quite as squalid, but the barren feeling remained. A house that had either been just moved into or whose occupant was ready to abandon at a moment's notice.

"Um... you got any food?" Marcus asked, somewhat sheepishly.

Aaron snickered. "I don't sssuppose you're a big fan of eggs."

Marcus winced. "Er, not exactly." That was always the problem with spending time at an unfamiliar house. Every species had their own diet needs. Some would have enough similarities to be able to make do, but a serpent and vulture had little crossover with a jackrabbit and pronghorn.

Aaron stood up with a grunt. Marcus got a look at his shirtless form then, marveling at it, really. The serpent wasn't much of an athlete, wiry limbs and a hint of a belly on him, but the interweaving of scales and feathers was almost hypnotic. The feathers extended down his neck and back like a mane, fluttering with every movement he made. The oranges and reds there combined with the golden hues on his scales, leaving the effect of a body perpetually aflame. It felt almost a tragedy that he seemed to prefer to keep it all covered up by drab clothing. Marcus thought about taking Aaron to one of his designer shops, getting him an outfit that complemented his appearance rather than obscured it. Then he remembered his days of spending a few thousand dollars on a shopping spree were likely over, something that sent a small stab into his stomach. Or maybe he was just hungry.

Aaron tilted his head to the side, making his neck crack. "I sssuppose we should go hunting then," he said, grabbing a plain white tee from the arm of the couch and carefully sliding it on.

Marcus shook his head. "It's okay! Really! I got some bars in my bag, I'll be fine."

The viper was already putting his worn boots on. "I didn't have any other plansss today, did you? Migth asss well grab a bite."

A moment paused, as a faintly uncomfortable question crossed Marcus's mind, and like always he wasn't able to prevent himself from asking it. "You don't have, like, a job or something?"

"I work when I need to," Aaron answered, his voice dismissive. "Come on. I can show you the world that sssilly Exo Club likes to pretend doesn't exissst."

They journey back downtown seemed to go by much more swiftly than the trip to Aaron's... current residence. Marcus wasn't entirely sure if that was just by knowing where they were headed or if it had been the scenic route the night before. Either way, before too long they were back on the familiar main drag, and the sight of bars, restaurants, and odd specialty shops greeted Marcus once again, along with the cornucopia of different species milling about. That he was still on the run left him anxious, always glancing around to see if any eyes were on him, but few were.

"Melody'sss little group... they'll tell you that what matters the mossst is getting along with the purebreds," Aaron said, his voice coated with disdain. "They way they talk, all you need to do is play nice, follow the rulesss, don't rock the boat, and everything will jussst work out. I'll bet they've even got you thinking about moving out here, being part of their whole... club."

Marcus pulled a face. He had indeed been thinking about that, at least as far as he'd been allowing himself to consider any kind of future plans. Imagining himself growing into adulthood and having a circle of friends to laugh and hang out with after work, talking shit on his coworkers. It was a sight better than the alternative, he thought.

Clearly, the serpent disagreed. "And how's that been working out for them? The whore, the traitor, and the drunk. One sssells herself to them, one mutilated himself to hide, one is ssslowly killing himself with pills and booze."

As much as Marcus wanted to bring up a bit of irony in Aaron's hip flask while talking about Karl's addiction, there was quite a difference he had to admit.

"That'sss what playing nice gets you, Marcusss. You get to enjoy a live of self destruction just in the hopes that no one will hassle you. Get down on all fours and lick their bootsss, begging to be given just a little bit of pity. Bleed for them, and they just might be kind enough to spit on your wounds."

As they walked, Marcus got a better appreciation for just how the hybrid viper slithered his way through crowds. It was less that the ocean parted around him, more that he was effortlessly avoiding them. His body subtly shifted and turned in a thousand ways at once to slip invisibly through the mass of bodies. If he hadn't been speaking, it would have been like he wasn't there at all.

That was Aaron's philosophy on life, as Marcus came to know from listening to him wax poetic on the world and the relationships between species. The purebreds saw their society as perfect and that the hybrids were disrupting it. Attempting to integrate was pointless because their very presence offended the world at large. The only way to get by and truly reclaim one's own life was to embrace being an outsider, to take pride in being something more than them.

Marcus should have expected that they wouldn't be picking breakfast up at a diner, but still got caught by surprise when Aaron stopped at a small food stand on a street corner. The jackalope's nose wrinkled at the dirty display, but once the crusty old rat with an accent he couldn't place started throwing handfuls of ingredients together, Marcus had to admit that it smelled damn good.

The two of them set up shop on a bench to eat, perched across from a theater and next to a secondhand clothing store.

"So like... then what am I supposed to for a living? You know, make money, pay rent? You're talking like getting any job at all is playing by their rules and stuff."

Aaron leaned back at his end of the bench, taking a sizeable bite from the wrap he'd gotten, grease from the faux meat on his chin.

"That'sss right. No purebred bosses, no suit and tie, no working on their ssschedule. No begging some asshole with a mansion if you can get a five cent raise when he's giving himssself a five figure bonus. But that doesn't mean we can't get them to beg to give us their money."

"H... hey! Hey, J?" came a voice from a small distance off.

"Ssspeak of the devil," Aaron grinned, looking at Marcus before turning his attention. "Well, if it isn't my bessst friend in the whole wide world."

The speaker, an uncomfortably thin primate of some kind with eyes so big they looked in danger of bursting out of his skull, sidled his way over. Marcus's nose wrinkled, the stink of a body unwashed for a week invaded his nostrils, the gaunt body wrapped in two coats and a pair of jeans that clearly hadn't been through a washing machine in a long, long time.

"Heh! Yeah! Been a while, hasn't it? How you been, J? Been good? Takin' um, takin' care of yourself?"

Aaron's eyes darted around briefly, then his smile widened. "You know me, alwaysss looking on the sssunny side," he said. "I'm guesssing you have what you owe me?"

The primate nodded eagerly. "I do! Yeah! I um, I got it right here!" he said, sticking his hand into his coat pocket and pulling out a grungy little wad of folded up bills, handing it over. "Thanks for, ah... thanks for being so generous!"

Aaron's smile never lost even a hint of its predatory glint. "Of course," he replied, slathering the statement with feigned compassion. "When a friend needs help, I'll alwaysss do what I can. Jussst let me know if you ever need another loan."

The two exchanged a practiced handhake, clasking their palms and following up with a few elaborate gestures. Marcus was baffled by the entire scene.

"What the fuck was that? You're loaning them money?" he asked, incredulous.

Aaron snorted, watching the primate walk off. "Not exactly. Jussst conducting a little business."

Marcus turned to follow the serpent's gaze, catching the true answer to his question as the thin primate tucked a small baggie into his pocket.

The jackalope's jaw dropped. "You're a dr... a drug dealer?" he gaped, having to stop himself midway through to lower his voice.

Aaron counted the bills he'd been given, casually stuffing them into his hoodie's front pouch of a pocket. "They give me their money, I take a few yearsss of their pathetic life. It'sss a win-win. Once in a while I even get to hear that one of them got found dead in the ssstreet with my venom in their veins."

Marcus's brain sputtered and clanked as the wheels turned, trying to put all of that together.

"You know, it'sss funny," Aaron said, seemingly picking up on the teen's confusion. "Vipers are sssupposed to have their venom glands removed at birth. Call it a sssafety measure. Prevent any... accidentsss from happening on the playground when we're young."

As he spoke, the feathered serpent's tongue flickered out of his mouth as it often did, but Marcus's attention was more closely on it. Specifically, seeing it slide and tap at the two fangs jutting from Aaron's upper jaw. A pair of hypodermic needles, the faint glisten of what they could inject.

"You... they didn't?"

Aaron snorted. "The fossster home could barely afford to keep us fed. They weren't taking me to get sssurgery unless it was life threatening. Of courssse, that would have been cheaper than the hossspital bills and antivenom injections."

Marcus shifted uncomfortably, making Aaron chuckle, which in turn only left the jackalope more on edge. "We all have inssstincts, Marcus. A bunny will run at the first hint of danger. A sssnake will strike. All the purebredsss will try to say that we're all the same inssside, but we're not. Not even clossse."

"You're telling me you've actually, you know... bit someone? On purpose?"

Aaron pulled his flask out and sipped from it, his tongue giving a quick flicker out of his mouth afterwards. "Quite a number of sssomeones," he answered. "When I was younger, angrier, and didn't underssstand the world. I lashed out a lot. I sssuppose that's why I was impossible to adopt. Bad enough to have a freak of nature in your home, more ssso if he can put one of his classmates in the emergency room."

Once again, Marcus's intense curiosity got the better of him. "Did you ever actually, um..."

Aaron turned to glance back. "Kill sssomeone?"

Marcus nodded, his eyes wide.

Aaron took a slow breath, like he was debating his answer. "Only once," he said, causing a shudder of cold to travel through the jackalope's body. "Don't feel bad for him, Marcusss. He was a bad man. I was sixteen. That was when I realized that even the purebreds who pretend to care for usss don't. I've been on my own ever sssince."

"I ssspent most of my life hating my own body. The venom in my fangs. The way my scales itch and hurt from feathers trying to tear through them. When I was little I used to rip them out in handfuls, the workers at the home would find me bleeding and crying, and they'd just get mad at me for the mess I made. They sssaw me as nothing but a burden, a hardship they'd been sssaddled with and couldn't wait to unload onto sssomeone else. When I got out here, I found out sssomething. That sssame poison that killed the man who adopted me? Out here, they'll buy it from me. Beg for it. They ran from me then, they come crawling to me now."

Marcus cringed, looking at Aaron's hands. He hadn't given a close examination before, but he was able to find the hints of scars at the back of them. He tried to imagine the hell of being trapped inside a body that never stopped itching and hurting. Once again, Marcus Lewis realized how fortunate he was that his two species were more compatible than they might have been.

"That's awful..." the young hybrid said.

Aaron shrugged casually. "I'm a ssscavenger, Marcus. Or half of one, anyway. It's in my nature to prey upon the dead. All these purebreds out here? They're all dead. Mossst of them just don't realize it yet. I can help them along, and make sssome money while I do it. That's the sssecret. Take control, take what's yoursss."

Marcus took a bite of his wrap, leaning back on the bench and letting his attention wander out to the street in front of him. Along with his breakfast, the jackalope chewed on Aaron's words. Take what was his. Take control. There was a perverse logic in it. Of course, he'd never be selling dope on street corners (he hoped), but that didn't mean he had to resign himself to that corporate nightmare, either. He didn't need college, he didn't need to be submitting applications and hoping that some purebred boss wouldn't be underpaying him because of his species. There had to be a path out there for him to forge on his own, and anyone who tried to get in his way could go fuck themselves.

Marcus grinned, nodding. "Yeah. Yeah! I like that," he said. Even with knowing what he knew about the feathered viper, he started feeling a little more at ease with him. Aaron was the first to talk to him like an equal, not a dumb kid. "You know, you're not nearly as bad as Melody said."

For a moment, Marcus had a feeling he'd crossed a line. Aaron's eyes snapped sideways towards him, but then that grin widened again.

"You're right. I'm a lot worse. Get away while you still can," he said with that slithery snicker of his. "Let me tell you sssomething about Melody, friend. That girl ssspent her whole life having guys drooling at her feet. She's desssperate for attention. As long as you give it to her, she'll love you more than anything. The sssecond you stop, she'll ssscream that you're the worssst piece of shit on earth. That's why she hangsss out with those two limp dick faggotsss. Trust me, you dodged a fucking bullet."

Marcus frowned a bit. That didn't sound like the Melody he'd met. She'd been nothing but generous with him, but then again Aaron had known her much longer than he did. On top of that, Marcus had only been getting Melody's side of everything, maybe there was a lot she wasn't telling him. Was she just trying to get him in her pocket so he'd be gushing about how wonderful she was? Had it been an act? His first exposure to her was watching her get guys to throw all of their money at her, after all...

The jackalope shook his head. He wasn't about to start spinning wild theories about someone who'd shown him that much kindness. He didn't know exactly what happened between Aaron and Melody and he wasn't going to take sides. The truth was probably somewhere in the middle anyway, he figured.

"Hey, Aaron? Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

Marcus bit on his lip a moment, hesitant, but still wanting to know. "You keep talking about not giving a shit about what anyone thinks and stuff, but like... you always keep that hood up. Like you're trying to hide your feathers."

Aaron turned his head faintly, looking at Marcus in a way that silently said to pick his next steps carefully. "Yeah?"

"Um... why do you do that? I mean, like, I think it looks pretty cool, you could totally get some outfits that show it off, you know?"

The serpent's eyes stayed on Marcus a few moments, saying nothing. Then he let out a laugh.

"You think? Fuck it, sssure, one of these days maybe you can help me be sssome fashion model. Go into a pricey store and let a sssnobby purebred talk me into spending a few thousand dollars on what they think is attractive. Sssounds great."

Marcus, briefly encouraged, wilted immediately. He realized how stupid it sounded, with everything Aaron had been talking about all morning.

The serpent finished his meal, balling up the paper it had been in and dropping it on the pavement. "I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks, but that doesn't mean I'm going out of my way to attract attention to myssself."

Marcus nodded, and chuckled sheepishly, hoping to turn the mood around.

"Yeah. Too bad I can't cover these things up with a hat, you know?"

Aaron snickered. "I could always break out the old hacksssaw."

Marcus laughed, glad his attempt at humor seemed to work. He relaxed again, nibbling away at his breakfast, watching the crowd once more. The jackalope felt like he was learning a lot that morning, a more honest lesson about the world that everyone until now had been trying to shield him from.

The day with Aaron went by surprisingly swiftly. For someone who prided himself on being separated from "the world" as he did, the feathered snake was unbelievably in tune with the city. His existence on the fringes of society had given him a lifetime of observing without getting distrated from the burden of participation. Whereas he felt that the Exo Club had been guiding him for how to integrate, Marcus was being shown how to find solace in isolation.

Aaron told him about the minutiae of various locals' lives. An old coyote who tipped too much on his morning coffee every day hoping to get the girl who worked there to smile at him. A fox with too many children who used her welfare to get cheap wine every night. The cops who hassled any species they didn't like and would take them in just to fill a quota and confiscate anything they could. The ones who worked with him to get a discount on his product.

"You ssspend your whole life worried that the world is this beautiful place that won't let you in," he said, passing his flask over to Marcus. "The truth is, the world is fucking ugly, we're lucky not to have to be a part of it."

Marcus sipped, pulling in a breath through his teeth from the burn but getting more used to the taste.

"So why are Melody and those guys always talking about doing what you gotta do to get by?" he asked.

Aaron shrugged casually. "They're too ssscared to stand up on their own."

Most of the day was spent in more of a "tourist" mode than at any point since he'd arrived. At first he'd been nervous about walking around in the open, but after a few hours he realized no one really seemed to notice him. Even with his face having been on the news, the residents of Boston were too busy in their own lives to be concerned about the jackrabbit with the antlers. More often than not, the only thing they cared about was if he accidentally knocked into them. Marcus hadn't quite gotten Aaron's skill at weaving through crowds.

Truthfully, Marcus was enjoying it. This was exactly what he'd always wanted back at Greenwood. Someone to sit off to the side of campus with and laugh at the others, their pathetic attempts at impressing one another and being mindless followers of all the rules. He'd just never had someone to do it with, who could really help him commit. Just being near Aaron made Marcus feel cooler. Tougher. Less of a loser.

As evening started to settle in, Marcus was in a surprisingly good mood, and it wasn't just because of the liquor store run they'd done a little after lunch. He and Aaron moved once in a while from spot to spot, partly to avoid getting hassled for loitering and partly to get a new cast of characters to observe and heckle. They were leaned up against an old brick wall on the side of a closed down barbershop where the traffic was less, when something caught Marcus's eye.

"Holy shit," the jackalope said under his breath, nudging the serpent beside him. "Yo, Aaron. Aaron! You see that guy over there?"

Marcus pointed across the street and a bit down, a feline walking in their direction, what looked like brand new designer jeans and an extra large shirt, complete with hip-hop artist collaborated shoes. All of that topped off with a bag slung over his shoulder.

"That's my fucking bag," he said.

Aaron's pupils narrowed, locking onto the slim cat.

"You sure?"

Marcus squinted, trying to see any extra details he could, then nodded.

"Yeah, that's mine! That mother fucker probably bought that whole outfit with my money, too..." he said, anger building rapidly in his voice.

Aaron grunted, standing up and tugging his hood further over his head, obscuring his features as much as he could. "Looksss like you'll be taking it back. Let'sss go."

Marcus stood up, quickly scurrying to follow behind.

"What? Aaron? What do you mean taking it back?"

"Just shut up and hang back until I tell you. If he sssees you might run."

Marcus anxiously looked up and down the street, finding it was mostly cleared out. He stayed behind, watching Aaron cross. It was hypnotic, the serpent gliding his way over, immediately hugging against the inside of the sidewalk, instinctively knowing where to step to stay in the shadows. Marcus watched as the two closed in on one another. The cheetah had no idea what was coming. Frankly, neither did Marcus.

The teen held his breath when their paths crossed. Everything after that happened so quickly. It was graceful, almost. A carefully orchestrated dance of predator and prey. Aaron deftly kicked the feline's ankle out from under him, sending him stumbling. As soon as the cheetah turned to see what had happened, Aaron was on top of him. The cheetah's body went sprawling, with serpent right behind, their bodies landing on the pavement with a hard clatter.

"The fuck?? Leggo!" the cheetah hollered.

Aaron didn't say a word, pressing his knee into the cheetah's chest to pin him down and putting a hand near the feline's throat. Instantly, Marcus's mugger went still.

Aaron waved his free hand over, whistling through his teeth and tongue to signal that it was time for Marcus to make his entrance. The teen hybrid quickly joined the fray, getting a closer look at just what was happening. The reason for the cheetah's stillness was made clear. A blade to the throat is good inspiration to avoid sudden movements.

"Oh fuck... fuck, it's you!" the cheetah sputtered, seeing Marcus.

Aaron pulled his hood back, revealing his plumage. Marcus watched in awe. It all made sense then. The feathers weren't a point of shame for him anymore. They were an omen. A harbinger. The serpent took a breath, his multicolored mane lifting up, making him look larger. Frightening.

"I believe you have sssomething that belongs to my friend," he said, voice flat. Cold.

The cheetah swallowed hard, the lump in his throat colliding with the blade against his furred flesh and making him shudder. "The bag? You want it? Fuck, it's yours!! Take it!!"

Without breaking eye contact, Aaron tossed Marcus's bag back to him. Immediately, the jackalope picked it up and went through it. His heart was racing, mind going in a thousand directions at once. Inside, all he found was a change of clothes, another pair of shoes. No cash, none of his other belongings.

"Isss there a problem?" Aaron asked.

Marcus looked back. The viper's eyes were absolutely deadly, the glow making them look just as afire as the rest of him. As if he might burst into a ball of hellfire at any moment. As glad as Marcus may have been to get at least some of his stuff back, he wasn't sure how to feel about how.

"Uh... I had like... a lot of cash in here," he said, sheepishly.

Aaron's attention returned to his captive.

"Care to explain?"

The cheetah jolted, giving a brief moment of struggle before holding fast once again. "All right! Look, I had to pay my rent, man, okay? I'm sorry! I got bills! I don't have it anymore!"

Marcus frowned. If there was one thing a lifetime of living with a therapist had taught him, it was how to see through lies. The feline's voice was frantic, uneven, there was desperation in it that was more than just the fear for his life. It pissed Marcus off. That was his money. His stuff.

"I had almost three thousand bucks!" he yelped out. "Are you renting a penthouse? Where's the rest of it?"

The words came out so quickly Marcus didn't even realize he'd been the one who said them. Where did that come from?

"Well?" Aaron said, pushing downward onto the cheeath. "Anssswer him!"

The terrified cat coughed and groaned, struggling to get a full breath under the weight pressed upon him. His eyes went from one hybrid to the other.

"Okay!!" he shouted. "So I bought some shit with it, what do you want? Take the fucking bag, I've got like a hundred in my wallet, the rest is gone! The fuck do you want me to do?"

Marcus fidgeted. He didn't really have an answer to that. Then again, he hadn't planned on any of this.

Aaron did have an answer.

"You look about the sssame size. Give him your shirt."

The cheetah blanched. "...what?"

"It was his money, that makesss it his shirt. Is there a problem?"

Aaron pushed the knife to the feline's neck, shaving some of the fur off.

"No! Fuck, stop! I'll give him my fucking shirt!!"

Aaron slid back, straddling the cheetah's thighs to give him room to strip down. After an awkward struggle to get the shirt over his head, he tossed it over to Marcus and put his hands up defensively.

"All right? There! You happy?"

Aaron twirled the knife in his hand, looking pensive and far too casual. He looked back to Marcus.

"You want his shoes?"

Marcus thought about it, looking at the pair. They were clearly expensive. He shook his head.

"Don't think they'd fit. Jackrabbit and all."

Aaron shrugged. "Not my ssstyle, either." He quickly got back into the same position as before, pinning the cat down.

"Now, sssay you're sssorry."

Once again, the cheetah's brain shorted out. "Wha?"

Aaron was less gentle now. He took the butt end of his knife and slammed it into the cheetah's face, immediately bloodying his nose and earning an awful yowl that made Marcus wince.

At first.

The sight of blood brought back a memory. One from barely over a week ago. A feline bully, a busted nose, and a hybrid who'd had enough of his shit.

"Look, I'm sorry! I'm sorry I took your shit, okay? I swear, you guys won't see me ever again, just let me go!"

Aaron bobbed his head as if to say that he was fairly convinced by the apology, then turned his head to Marcus for verification. Marcus nodded quickly.

"Now then," Aaron said, gazing downwards. "I'm going to give you a ten sssecond head start. If I catch you after that, I'll make absolutely sure we never sssee you again. Do you understand?"

Now the cheetah nodded, his eyes wide. Aaron stood up again, stepping back to give a bit of space, and held up a finger.

"One."

The cheetah didn't move, unsure if he could trust the pair of hybrids.

"Two," Aaron said, holding up a second finger. "Three. You better get moving."

Immediately, the feline made good on his species and scrambled to his feet, sprinting off in the same direction he'd just come from. That same long stride he'd used after snatching Marcus's bag the other day.

Marcus watched the spotted body as it slowly shrank into the distance. His heart was pounding, his breath rapid. This was a different adrenaline rush, not like his panic attacks. He still wanted to go off running, but this time he wanted to chase that fucking guy down. Beat the shit out of him and really teach him a lesson.

Aaron snickered, seeing the teenager's wide-eyed look. "How did that feel?"

Marcus took a slow breath, trying to get his pulse back down to at least something resembling normal. He looked at the bag in his hands, the shirt at his feet.

"That felt... fucking awesome."

Aaron grinned as broadly as ever, pulling his hood back over his head. "Thought ssso. Well, I think that'sss enough work for one day. How about we get some food, a couple six packs, and head back for the night?"

He didn't wait for an answer, and Marcus once again found himself scampering in Aaron's wake, following along like a little brother being taken by the hand. He wondered what life would have been like if he really had a big brother like Aaron. Someone to teach him not to take any shit from bullies at school. He probably wouldn't have wasted so much time trying to "talk his feelings out" with Barbara. He'd have been able to take care of it on his own.

Marcus walked a little taller down the streets of Boston that night. He felt something he'd never felt before.

He felt strong.