Loyal, ch. 1 by Kels

The last thing anyone wants to hear in the morning is their alarm clock. However, when that alarm clock runs out of batteries, it seems as if it’s all you ever depended on. Stephen banged his head on the table in front of him, and gazed forlornly at the toaster, now heating up a toaster strudel, the very last of his food supply. If it didn’t hurry up, He’d get fired and that would be the last of his pay check too.

Stephen hit the eject button and shoved the slightly cold pastry in his mouth, pulling away from the table and racing out the door. He locked it hastily and ran down the sidewalk, chewing his breakfast as he went. He had two minutes. Two minutes to make it to work. Two minutes to-

Stephen halted near the entrance to an alley way as the sounds of a boys laughing echoed back to him. They sounded like they were enjoying themselves, moreover, they sounded like they didn’t want to be caught. Stephen crept down the alley, and they’re words became clear.

“What’s wrong, you stupid mutt? Can’t afford to live?”

“Can’t you get those cans off your tail by yourself?”

“If you run away, we’ll just find you again.”

“Mutt.”

Two minutes, just two minutes and he’d get promoted, boss said so.

“Freak.”

He just had to step into the office and-

The sound of something alive being kicked reverberated through Stephen’s heart.

“Leave it alone!”

He flung himself down the alley, and head-butted the nearest teen in the stomach. The boy yelped in surprise and dropped, while another aimed a good kick at Stephen’s head. He ducked, punching at the boys, only to be thrown back by a sharp kick to the ribs. He coughed loudly, glaring at the two boys, who just stared back at him.

They were both rather rough looking, like they’d been in a fight recently, and even though they were clearly younger, they were taller and most likely stronger than him. One of them had a tattoo of a bulldog on his neck, partially hidden by his greasy black hair. The other was a blond, his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his fists had the letters: T H E M written out. Probably a gang logo. They smelled like beer.

Stephen lurched to his feet, wiping a thin trail of blood of his chin. He’d bit his tongue. The teens sneered and started walking towards him. Stephen brought his fists up to his chest, and eyed them wearily. The blond lashed out, an uppercut to the head, and Stephen ducked, kicking the boy’s knee as he went. His partner half roared and launched himself at Stephen, banging the others’ head into the wall with his fist.

Everything was covered instars for a moment, and he felt more blows falling on his chest and head. Then suddenly they stopped. The teens yelled something, but Stephen didn’t catch it. He heard them running away, then light footsteps coming towards him. A soft hand on his forehead brought him to open his eyes. He saw a pair of warm brown eyes gazing at him in alarm, and everything went black.

Wake up. Please wake up.  

Stephen blinked his eyes open. Everything looked soft around the edges, like looking through a cup of water. In fact- Stephen lifted his hand to his face and prodded above his face. Squishy. He sat up, a plastic bag full of water falling onto his lap. He raised an eyebrow at this, and peered around, looking for its’ owner. As he did, he managed to jar his left elbow.

“ARRRRGH!!!!!” He yelled, clutching the offending appendage.  It was wrapped in gauze, tied in a small bow at his wrist. Now he was really curious. How did he get here? Who- Suddenly a fairly tall figure stepped into sight.

It was a girl, around seventeen, with floofy gold hair curving in towards a soft chin. She was dressed in light red with darker red pants, and had a scarf tied loosely around her mouth. She cocked her head to the side and pointed to his arm.

“Umm… do you- are you the one who saved me?” Steven asked, his green eyes meeting her brown. She nodded and walked over to him. She cautiously put her hand on his uninjured shoulder.

“Is arm better?” Her voice sounded muffled, but he figured it was probably just the scarf. She had no accent, yet spoke like a two year old.  

“Er... Yeah. Um, I’m Steven, and you are…?” The girl just blinked at him and pulled a packet of marshmallows from behind her back. She placed them in his lap, and sat down on the floor, staring eagerly at him. At his failure to react, she tugged on his arm.

“Eat!!! You is hungry?” She blinked at him again with her huge brown eyes.

“Um… Sure? But you never told me your-“

“ Better food!”  and with that lengthy speech, she raced away. Steven sighed and rubbed his head with his good arm. What had he gotten himself into?

She came back a few minutes later, a cracked mug full of soup in her hands.

She closed her eyes and smiled, her head bowed and holding the soup right under Stevens nose. He reached to take it, but managed to jar his arm again. She drew her eyebrows together and frowned. (Or so Steven assumed, the scarf still covered her mouth.)

She carefully dipped the spoon, that she had brought along, into the soup and held it in front of his mouth. He hesitated, but the steady light in her eyes reassured him and he accepted it gratefully. The soup was a bit hot, but salty and filling. The smell in and of itself was intoxicating, but the taste was even better. It was chicken broth, but with something more, a combo of spices that made all the difference.

When the bowl was empty, Stephen was feeling tired, and after thanking the girl, he drifted into a deep sleep.