Hey y'all. I'm so happy that you enjoyed the final chapter and thank everyone for their reviews. I'm so glad you all enjoyed it, but I'm not going to do any comments, just because there were quite a few of them (and this is a really long chapter). Thanks for all the praise and you time reviewing.

So here is the long awaited (well at least for Halo and I) preview chapter of, 'The Long Road Home.' This chapter will actually not be posted with the actual story, but will be setting up a little of the story line and give y'all a place to start from.

The first part takes place about the same time as the last few chapters of 'Miles from Home', during the two weeks before Christmas. Yes, I know it's nowhere near Christmas time, but I'm not going to wait seven months to post this. (;

It is set in a southern village, which is a very small town that is very untrusting to outsiders and don't get a lot of news from the outside. There's a local store, a school, and a few small businesses. Our main characters live in a Junkyard just outside of town.

The second part of the chapter is set in Westopolis. No I'm not kidding, don't kill me. Relax, there are no aliens attacking. Big city, lots of people, has lots of contact with the outside world. Our main character here is a beggar on the street.

This whole chapter is Narrator's POV. I think that's enough background… Hope you enjoy!

Suggested Song: Eyes Open- Taylor Swift

"Maurice!"

"Run!"

"But what about-?"

"Just run! Go!"

Sonia grabbed her brother and yanked him along through the forest, leaving the smoking crater that came from the lasers only narrowly missed the two six-year-olds running for their lives.

But all the while Manic continued to struggle, "We can't leave Maurice! We have to find him, Sonia!" he cried. Sonia tightened her grip and dragged him along, fighting back her own tears. Behind the two, the piercing sound of laser shots echoed through the forest as the killers drew closer and closer…

"Sofia! Sofia, wake up!"

The 12-year-old hedgehog jolted awake. Her alarm clock read 7:03. She stretched and yawned, "I'm up, Uncle."

"You're going to be late for school." The banging on the door ceased and his footsteps faded downstairs.

Sofia climbed out of bed and grabbed her clothes for the day, long purple pants, white t-shirt, and a thin purple belt over the shirt. As she laced up her purple and white boots she caught a look of herself in the mirror.

Her dark purple eyes stared back at her, full of carefully concealed sorrow and disappointment. Her scruffy pink hair was cut short, her bangs brushed in front of her face and the rest of pulled into a simple pigtail in the of her head.

As she smoothed her hair slightly, Sofia looked over at the empty bed across the room. Its red sheets and black comforter were straightened and made. On the pillow sat a simple piece of paper folded in quarters. Sofia walked over to the bed and picked it up, scanning it for what must've been the hundredth time.

"Sofia!"

She pocketed the note and ran down the stairs. "Sorry, got distracted."

Her Uncle motioned for her to be quiet, as he had just picked up the phone. Sofia began to make her breakfast as he continued to talk.

"I'm sorry, my niece just came in. Could you repeat that? … So I don't need to come up there. … Alright, alright, I understand. It's a shame though. I could have used that scrap metal. … Oh well, I understand. Enjoy that biplane. Have a good day, Mrs. Roberts." He hung up and looked over at his niece, the frown lines etched beneath his eyes especially prominent.

Sofia chose to ignore him and grabbed a glass. As she poured herself some orange juice, a sharp pain suddenly shot through the back of her eyes and forehead. She grunted, stifling a moan of pain, and put the jug down, grabbing her head.

"Uncle Chuck! Uncle Chuck!" Sonia and Manic yelled as soon as they caught sight of the small log cabin. The two felt as if they were going to drop to the ground and die from exhaustion what with all the running.

The light blue hedgehog poked his head out of the door, a confused smile on his face. In seconds it faded as soon as he saw the laser-shooting robots. He let out a strangled sort of yelp and shouted at the two kids to get inside.

As soon as Sonia and Manic were in the building he slammed the door shut. "Where's Maurice?"

"He's still out there!" Manic had this frantic look in his eyes. Just imagining what Maurice was going through at that moment made the boy panic. "We have to go find him! Please, Uncle Chuck! We need to find Maurice! They could hurt him!"

Uncle Chuck peeked out the curtains as the robots surrounded the cabin, dozens of them swarming in every second. "We'll worry about him in due time, sonny. Right now, we need to worry about us."

"Sofia!"

The girl grunted again as her eyes snapped open. She stumbled back slightly, but managed to regain her footing.

"You had another episode just now, didn't you? You know how I feel about those." her Uncle scolded, the disapproving scowl evident on his face.

Sofia rolled her eyes, "Do you really think I can control my visions?" she growled in frustration, her voice low and quiet. Uncle Charlie narrowed his eyes at the pink hedgehog and she fell silent.

The two ate breakfast without another word. When Sofia finished, she set her dishes in the sink and pulled on her snow jacket, then her backpack. She nodded a polite farewell to her Uncle, who simply grunted in return, his nose buried in the day's paper.

With a dejected sigh, she pushed open the ratty screen door and walked out onto the snowy junkyard. As she made her way out, strands of flickering Christmas lights were wrapped around the few lamp posts that were present. Piles of rusted and broken down cars, tin cans, random assorted junk, and pretty much anything you can think of was spread throughout the yard. The 'house' itself looked as though it had seen better days. Its roof was sagging in some places and its windows were fogged up, barely letting any of the natural lighting in. A tall chain link fence wrapped around the junkyard, with barbed wire on top and a padlocked gate to keep out potential junk thieves. When Sofia reached the other side of the yard, she stared up at the dull glowing sign: Chuck the Junk. Pretty lame name, if you asked her.

With Christmas just a few weeks away, the main street was pretty packed, so no one minded the young pink hedgehog as she trudged to school. With each step she kept one thought echoing through her mind; One more day, one more day, one more day…

It was the last day before Winter Break started. She just needed to survive one more day and then she'd get a nice long break from school… her Uncle, not so much, but at least it was a break from at least one unpleasant thing.

Quickly, she rushed up to the old red brick school building. Just like the rest of the town, it was run down and out of date with little communication to the outside world. That had been the main reason her Uncle had moved her brother and her to this town…

The clanging of the school bell snapped her out of her thoughts and she ran to get to class on time. Unfortunately, she wasn't so lucky. One of the boys playing on the schoolyard had seen her running toward the front doors and shut them, locking automatically. It took three minutes for a teacher to walk by and let her in.

Sofia walked into her classroom, head down. Her classmates stared and snickered to each other, and her aged fox teacher grimaced, displeased with her tardiness

"That's the third time this week, Sofia. If you keep this up, I'll have to write another note home." Mrs. Bore (yes that was her actual name) scolded. The woman either didn't notice or didn't care about the snickers and whispering that started as the pink hedgehog made her way to her seat next to the window.

The girl chose to ignore them and sat down at her desk. It was going to be a long day.

Mrs. Bore called for everyone to take out their math textbooks and turned to the blackboard, chalk in hand. She began scratching down what looked like a very complicated, very boring math equation.

Math always killed her. Sofia couldn't help it. It was so boring and with nothing to do, her mind started to wander.

"A squared number plus the square root of thirteen times X to the tenth power…" her teacher droned on and on in a monotone voice that would make the most energetic students die of boredom. So it was with little surprise as Sofia was trying to finish the problem that the pain returned behind her eyes. She managed to bite back the gasp and closed her eyes immersed in the memory.

Uncle Chuck whirled around from the window and rushed over to the table in the corner. He yanked it away and opened the trapdoor hidden beneath. "Alright kids! In the cellar! Hurry!"

Sonia immediately climbed down the ladder, but Manic hesitated. Unfortunately, Uncle Chuck wasn't in the mood to negotiate. He picked up the kid and threw him over his shoulder, then climbed down the ladder.

The three hedgehogs just barely took cover in a corner when a large explosion rang in their ears. Large chunks of rubble fell down the open trapdoor, dust swirling around, clouding their vision and making them cough. When a burning piece of wood came especially close, Sonia let out a small cry that was immediately cut off by Uncle Chuck's hand.

"Shh… We need to be really, really quiet right now." whispered Chuck gently. "Can you do that for me?" Sonia nodded, and Manic held in the coughs that were threatening to burst from his lungs.

The three sat there for several minutes, even after all had fell silent. Finally, Uncle Chuck got up and started to move a bunch of wood in a pile on the far wall.

"Uncle Chuck, what are you doing?" Sonia inquired softly.

"Shh..."

The older hedgehog pushed over the last of the wood, revealing a large hole big enough for a grown man to crawl through. "Come on."

"How long have you had that?" Manic looked back at the ladder. "Uncle Chuck, we can't leave without Maurice, we have to find him.."

"And I promise I will look for him, but I need to get you two to safety. As for the hole, it's something I found when I was digging this cellar several years ago. May have been a burrow, or something at some point. It leads to the caves near the lakeside. Do you remember those?"

The two younglings nodded. They had played in them often with Maurice.

"Come on! We've gotta get out of here, and fast!" He shooed the children into the hole.

Sonia took Manic's hand and the two dove into the darkness. Uncle Chuck walked over to one of the boxes in the basement and opened it, removing a few photographs and other sentimental trinkets, then he dove into the hole behind the kids. Seconds later the cellar caved in completely, leaving no trace of the hedgehogs' escape.

A ringing noise snapped Sofia out of her trance. It was lunch time. She stood up and walked to the cafeteria, her eyes on the floor. After buying a simple salad for lunch, she sat down at an empty table and began to eat. A large thump alerted her that she was no longer alone.

"Hello, Bobby," she mumbled without even looking up from her plate.

The orange fox leaned forward, a few of his friends behind him snickered. He picked up a tomato from the salad and made a show of examining it. "I see you're still into the salad. Why don't you have a hamburger or something?"

The hedgehog continued to eat without answering.

"What's wrong, Sofi? Shy? You know you were a lot more fun when your idiot brother, Matthews was around. More active, less picky."

Sofia took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "He's not an idiot."

Bobby and his friends laughed. "Then why'd he run away? Seems like a pretty idiotic thing to do. Especially when ya're only ten years old. How long 'as it been now… about two years?"

Sofia slouched down further, wishing she could melt into the ground.

"He must be dead by now. I sure hope so. He's just like you, ya' know, nothing but a stupid, worthless little freak who will never make any friends. But hey, maybe he had the right idea, running away from that crack uncle of yers. Why don't you do the same? No one's gonna miss ya' if ya' leave town and never come back."

Interrupting Buddy's prodding, Sofia suddenly stood up and ran away from the table, holding back tears.

However, Buddy couldn't help and throw one last sally. "Yeah, run ya' little freak! That's all you and your loser family ever do!"

Sofia ran into a bathroom and locked herself in a stall. After a few minutes, her stomach protested for food. Sighing softly, the girl knew that her salad would be in the trash if she went back, thrown away by Buddy and his goons.

The rest of the day passed without much incident. A few last minute tests and teachers giving homework for over the break. When the final bell rung, Sofia pretty much sprinted out of the building without looking back.

The wet mud crunched under her boots as she ran as far as she could away from the building. Right, left, right, right, left, right, left, right, left, left, right...any direction to lose the kids chasing her.

Of course no matter how hard she tried, they somehow always managed to find her. This time, they caught up with her in the alley she used to hide in, between the convenience store and the laundromat.

"Well, well, if it isn't the freak."

"Long way from the junk heap."

"Where's your brother now?"

Sofia backed away until her back hit the brick wall. Well...here we go again.

Bobby, why did it always have to be him, picked up a small rock. "Let's see you dance, shall we?"

Now usually, Sofia loved dancing. But this kind of dancing involved avoiding sharp rock aimed at her head. Most kids would have panicked. Sofia didn't. Instead, she did something very strange.

Taking deep breaths she crouched down slightly. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the picture, then closed her eyes. A few of the kids grew a little nervous, but still grabbed a stone to throw.

Bobby raised a stone. "On three. One…" All of the bullies (and there was about a dozen of them) raised their projectiles, "Two…" Sofia opened her eyes and looked up, "Three!"

And then Chaos ensued. All the projectiles were thrown as hard as possible in the same general direction. However, the hedgehog seemed to be one step ahead of them, jumping up about a foot and then flipping backwards in midair. She landed on a nearby trash can and used her built up energy in her legs, running across the wall about three steps, then pushing off in yet another flip. The rocks continued to fly, narrowly missing her, but not a single one managed to even graze the hedgehog. Sofia landed on a closed dumpster lid, then jumped up, grabbing a fire escape ladder just barely in reach. She pulled herself up and started to run up the stairs, the kids yelling insults and abuse at the now out-of-range girl.

When she finally got to the roof, her breathing eased up slightly and she straightened up. A few more deep breaths calmed her racing heart.

Suddenly, she twisted around and kicked, shattering the glass pop bottle that one of the kids had aimed at her head.

"Freak!"

Sofia turned and ran.

If anyone ever asked her how she did it, she wouldn't have been able to answer. Ever since that night, she had begun to have these visions and impressions. At first she only thought they were dreams and common intuition, but then they started to come true. Some of the dreams seemed to be echoing from the past, haunting her every step. Others were taking place at that exact time and place. And then there were those that seemed to come from a distant future. Her flashes of inspiration or instinct were sharp and scarily precise, knowing when to duck and when to jump to avoid punches or a well-aimed rock.

Of course, her Uncle was just as scared about her 'powers' as the kids. They didn't know exactly what was up with her, but they did know one thing: No matter how many times they tried, how many people they brought, or how they did it they couldn't touch her. They punched, kicked, even threw things at her. Not one of them had ever landed a blow. True, they had had some very close scrapes, but that hardly mattered in the long run.

But she couldn't blame them half the time. Sometimes she considered herself a freak. The only person who ever tried to help her was her brother, Matthews. But when he ran away... he left her all alone.

All of these thoughts were turning through Sofia's mind as she wandered back into the junkyard and the old house. Her uncle was sitting at the counter reading a newspaper, "How was school?"

"Just like every other day."

"Good."

He didn't notice the glare the girl gave him.

Sofia sighed, "What's for dinner?" Let me guess, canned meat and beans. Again.

"Canned meat and beans."

"I'll take the beans, you can have the meat."

"Sofia, you need to have some sort of meat in your diet to keep healthy."

"I'm good." Sofia went to her room without another word. Ever since Matthews left, the two didn't speak to each other that much. She dropped her backpack next to her bed and looked over at what used to be her brother's bed. Her eyes started to hurt again and she dropped to the ground, moaning.

Sonia and Manic sat in the cave, waiting for their uncle to return. It was three days after the attack, and Uncle Chuck had finally set out to look for Maurice. He was only gone for about two hours when he returned, once again empty handed.

"Did you check the forest?" Manic asked.

Chuck groaned, "For the millionth time Manic, yes! He's not there!"

Sonia was crying softly in a corner, as she had been for the past three days.

"You should have left sooner! We could have found him!"

"I was trying to make sure it was safe."

"Keep looking!" Manic kicked a rock as hard as he could, sending it ricocheting all over. "He's still alive! Maurice can't be-" his voice broke for a second, then he composed himself, unable to bring himself to say the unthinkable word. In the past three days, Manic had grown up a lot. Much more than a six year old should.

Uncle Chuck lost his temper, "He's gone Manic! I can't find him! I'm sorry!"

"No you're not! You… you just haven't looked hard enough!"

"MANIC!" the hedgehog grabbed his nephew roughly and shook him with each word. "He's dead! They. Are. Dead! SNAP OUT OF IT!" The once cheerful and laid back man threw the young boy roughly to the ground.

Sonia's sobs grew louder.

"HE'S NOT DEAD!" Manic had already cried over his parents. His uncle had already buried their bodies and Manic had seen the graves. But without any body, Manic refused to believe his brother was gone.

"MAURICE IS DEAD!"

"NO HE'S NOT!"

"STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!" Sonia screamed. She dropped to the ground and covered her ears, sobbing hysterically. Manic ran over to comfort her while Uncle Chuck ran his fingers through his quills.

It was silent for a few moments, then Chuck sighed, "Come on. We need to leave."

"But this is our home!" Manic protested, glaring at his Uncle.

"Not anymore." Chuck walked out of the cave, leaving the two children in tears.

Her uncle's call for dinner woke her up...again. Sofia dried her eyes and ran downstairs. Dinner itself was quiet. Uncle Charlie politely asked about her grades and what she planned to do with her winter vacation. Her answers were short and simple. Finally, he put down his fork.

"Alright, what's eating you?"

Sofia pushed her meat around, refusing to eat it. "I'm just... worried... about Matthews." Each word was painful to say, especially the last one.

The mood immediately darkened at the table. "Oh."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"We're not discussing this."

Sofia pushed her plate away and leaned forward. "Why not? You hardly looked for him and didn't even call the police until two days after he ran off."

"I'm not going to create a bunch of legal drama because your brother is an attention-seeking delinquent."

"He is not a delinquent."

Uncle Charlie narrowed his eyes. "How many times was I called because he pickpocketed some kid at school or he was in detention?"

"He gave the stuff back."

"It's still stealing, Sofia!"

Sofia crossed her arms, "I just… I just wish you had tried harder to make him stay."

"I did try! I couldn't force him to stick around!"

She raised an eyebrow, "Because yelling and telling him what a pest he is makes him want to stay?"

One glare and Sofia fell silent. "The kid skipped school for the fifth time that month. What else am I supposed to do?"

"Maybe figure out why he was skipping…" she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Sofia…" he threatened.

The girl threw her hands in the air, "Why do you call me that? We're alone! No one is going to hear us if you use my real name."

"Because I may slip up in public, and if I do, then people will start to talk."

"I still don't understand why we had to change our names…"

Uncle Charlie sighed, "I already told you this. We don't know what that man knew about us."

"And he thinks we're dead!"

"And if he finds out that we're not, then he will come after us. Better safe than sorry." He narrowed his eyes. "Now let's drop this discussion and move on. What do you want for Christmas?"

The girl didn't answer for a moment. "I want Manic to come home…" she got up and ran up the stairs.

"Sofia! Sof- Sonia! Come back here!" Uncle Charlie sighed and put his head in his hands. "Oh Julian," he looked over at the family picture hanging on the wall. His brother and wife were standing with their three children in front of them, Uncle Chuck off to the side.

Upstairs, Sonia wiped away the tears She looked over at the bed again and pulled out the slip of paper that she had put in her pocket that morning. Once again, she read it:

Sonia

I cant take this no more. Uncle Chuck HATES ME, and I hate him. Im leaving. I dont know where. Please dont look for me. Im sorry. I love you.

Manic

P.S.- I.O.U. ten dollers.

She smiled slightly at that last part. Manic had broken open her piggy bank and taken ten dollars the night he left, probably for a bus fare.

Her smile faded as she fingered the half of the picture that was with the note. Next to Manic's bed had been a beaten up polaroid photo of him, Sonia and Uncle Chuck. When he had left, he had torn the picture down the middle, leaving Uncle Chuck and part of Sonia behind.

Even though the sun had just started to go down, Sonia climbed into bed. She stared at the picture next to her bed. It was a little blurry, but clear enough. The photo was of Maurice, Manic, and Sonia playing out in the backyard. Gently, Sonia picked up the frame and traced Maurice's form. She looked out the window as a soft snow began to fall.

"I promise Maurice… I'll find him again."

Without another word, she put the photo down and fell into a restless sleep.

Suggested Song: This is Life Without You- Stanfour

*2 years earlier*

"A couple of quarters for Christmas, sir?"

The man in the business suit dropped a dime in the plastic cup of the little beggar, moving on without a word.

The ragged boy tightened the strings on his black hoodie. Most passersby never paid the green hedgehog any attention, but simply avoided him. In Westopolis, most homeless boys were nothing more than petty thieves. It was no different with this beggar.

Matthews glanced down at the ten dollar bill he had managed to pickpocket out of the man's pocket when he had reached out to drop the ring in. He felt a twinge guilty about stealing, but he already knew that it was impossible to earn enough for food without a little extra. Who knew his knack for stealing kids blind as a party trick would come in so handy?

Somewhere near by a clock chimed, alerting anyone who could hear above the busy traffic that it was now nine p.m. Matthews stood up and brushed off the small layer of snow that had fallen on him for the past hour. He watched the oncoming storm of people for a few moments, then slipped into the crowded sidewalks.

When he had first got to the city, Matthews had been almost trampled to death when he first stepped out on the street. It took him almost a whole month to get the courage to do it again, now only traveling by alleyways and rooftops.

He shivered; he wasn't used to snow. Down south, it could get pretty chilly in the winter, but never enough for snow. It was like cold, wet, nasty dirt, and he hated it more and more every second he sat outside, which was all the time nowadays.

Matthews rubbed his stiff hands together and blew in them, trying in vain to get warm. Chaos, he was hungry. But learning to deal with the hunger pains was one of the many skills he had been forced to develop since coming here.

He remembered seeing a soup kitchen over on Charmy Street. Matthews knew that going there would be a serious blow to his pride, but he hadn't had a decent meal in months; He was long past desperate.

He grunted as he picked up speed, tightening his knapsack on his back and shoving his hands into his front hoodie pockets. He stalked down the street, weaving through the thick crowds of busy Christmas shoppers. In the hubbub of the moment, Matthews managed to snag three wallets and a flimsy-looking necklace. Altogether, the cash in the wallets only added up to about thirty-two dollars, but he'd take what he could get.

It didn't take him long to get to the soup kitchen. He was about to walk in, but hesitated; through the ice-laced window he could see the soup line and the tables packed with dejected men, women, and children, some of which looked like whole families. It gave off an air of permanent hopelessness, cynical and downhearted. For a moment, he considered just walking away and pretending that he couldn't possibly be one of those starving bums.

But his stomach wouldn't let him forget the 'starving' part.

Matthews opened the kitchen's door, hearing the chime of the welcome bell above him. All at once a wave of warmth swept over him, like stepping into a warm bath. He caught scent of the smell of potato soup, his stomach rumbling greedily.

"Alright, I get it, you want food. Gimme a break, I'm doing the best I can." Matthews snarled at his belly. He stepped into line behind a crowd of rattily dressed tramps and, noticing how far back he was, decided to employ one of his best line-cutting tricks. He reached into his knapsack and pulled out a handful of marbles he had won off a seven year old the other day. Casually, he dropped them onto the ground and smiled at the caused confusion. He shifted slyly in front of one distracted woman, grabbing a plastic tray.

After being served a bowl of potato soup, a cookie, and a steaming mug of hot chocolate, he sat himself down at a relatively empty table, careful to make sure his hood covered his face. He slurped down the soup and looked around, staring at the gloomy mass of people.

Let's see, who do we have here? Matthews thought, bored, looking at each person in turn. There's an addict in that corner… a girl who lost her mom in a car crash… a family evicted from their house last month… boy, this place sure is a barrel of laughs.

Since that horrible night that his life was ripped apart, Matthews discovered he could 'read' people as he liked to call it. One look and he suddenly knew their likes, dislikes, and basically whatever they were thinking of at the time. Names and precise details were harder, but since he had left home, it had been getting steadily easier to know recent memories of a person, their habits, what made them tick, what won them over. He'd be lying if he said that never used that to his advantage. But he'd also be lying if he said he enjoyed this power. Sometimes he wished it just would turn off. It hadn't had been this strong before, but after an encounter with a red echidna it had been steadily growing.

He nibbled on his cookie slowly, savoring the flavor. It was dry and crumbly and the frosting stuck to the roof of his mouth, but it was the best thing he had tasted in months. He pocketed half of it, knowing that he'd get hungry again later. He wished that he could do the same with the hot chocolate, but he had already guzzled that down.

Too soon, he was finished, and got up to leave. Although the soup and hot chocolate had filled his stomach, a faint sense of emptiness still lingered. He slung his knapsack over his back tightened his hoodie strings. Maybe if he was lucky he could snag a cardboard box to sleep in tonight… or maybe he could see if he could sneak into that one mattress store he passed by… his thought were interrupted, however, when he bumped into a much larger boy.

"Whoops. Sorry, man." said Matthews.

"S'okay, you're cool." The boy was an auburn fox wearing a backwards baseball cap and a black quilted jacket. A showy gold chain hung around his neck, his hands were jammed into his jacket pockets. His eyes were dark brown, cheerful but serious.

Matthews stared at him a moment, not sure at first what to make of him. It was obvious that he had a good heart, but still, something felt… off. Untrustworthy in some way.

Well, let's see… can't get a name… he lives with his mom and older sister… isn't rich, but sure isn't starving on the streets... lots of loyal friends… definitely gets into his share of trouble… All at once, Matthews saw it; those loyal friends (their exact features were still pretty fuzzy) weren't just friends. They were a gang, something Matthews was familiar with in all the wrong ways.

The fox was also examining him. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to have found it. "Hey kid, can I talk to you?"

"...No. No, you can't." Matthews turned around and started to walk away from the gang member. He didn't want or need any more drama in his life, especially the kind that could end up with him dead. Matthews pushed past the fox and past his way back into the chilling cold of the outside.

At first, the fox just stood there, a little confused. Eh, must be a coincidence. He picked up the pace and followed the hedgehog. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, kid. Just wanna talk."

"I said no." Matthews said stiffly, walking a little faster. "St-stay away from me." He had meant to sound intimidating, but had accidentally let his voice crack. He couldn't help it, this kid was freaking him out. What in Chaos does he want?

But the boy was faster and easily caught up with him, stepping in front and blocking him from leaving. "Woah, kid! Take it easy! I promise, I won't hurt ya, I just wanna congratulate you."

What's he playing at? This was too weird. But all the same, Matthews could tell that he really wasn't going to hurt him; he just wasn't that kind of guy. "Congratulations on what?" he asked tentatively.

"On your little trick back there. I never woulda thought of using marbles as a distraction. That was pretty slick."

So that's what this is all about. "Um… Thanks, I guess? Is that all? Can I go now?" Matthews still didn't trust him.

"Hey, hold your horses, I said I wouldn't hurt ya."

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't trust gang members." Matthews coldly replied, bumping into him on his way past. A cold, wet snowflake dropped on his nose.

"Woah, woah, hold up- how… how d'ya know that?" the fox asked, alarmed.

Matthews froze in his tracks. Chaos, I'm an idiot. You slipped up again. Remember what happened to the last guy? Think of something, Manic… "It's… obvious, ain't it? He replied slowly. "You have a gun on you, and sort of have that, 'don't mess with me' vibe."

"I guess you're right, kid." The fox scratched behind his ear and smirked. "Well, this makes things a lot easier," he held out his hand, "Would you be interested in a job?"

"No. I'm not joining anything you have to offer." Matthews turned away and began to walk down the street. He turned a corner and disappeared out of the fox's sight. After a few moments, he pulled out the fox's wallet, handgun, and switchblade. He pulled out the money in the wallet (about 50 bucks) and pocketed the blade. The gun he threw in the nearest dumpster. "I hate guns…" Matthews looked down at the ID in the wallet. Curtis Shepard, fifteen. Uh… What kind of last name is Shepard?" Matthews smiled, Does he heard sheep and carry around a crook when he's in gang fights? He chuckled to himself. Whatever. The dude's cash will take me a long way.

"Hey! You! Kid!"

Or maybe not. Matthews took off running as fast as he could, ducking into an alleyway and hiding behind a smelly metal dumpster, his heart pounding wildly. He had never been caught stealing before, and he shuddered to think of how angry he must've made this kid. Oh Chaos, what if he tried to beat him up or… worse. He was only ten, doggone it! He couldn't get himself killed; he had the rest of his life in front of him!

Curtis's footsteps slowed near the dumpster, and Matthews held his breath. Oh Chaos, oh Chaos, oh sweet Chaos… After about a minute's worth of total silence, though, Matthews deemed it safe enough to change hiding spots and stood up slowly.

That was a mistake.

An unexpectedly strong hand snagged the scruff of his hoodie roughly, lifting him into the air. His face was inches away from Curtis's, the fox's brown eyes narrowed.

"Aw, please man, don't kill me! I'm too young to die, I ain't even voted yet! I'll give it all back, I swear!" groveled Matthews, struggling to free himself from Curtis's iron grip. This was it. No way out.

"Relax punk, I won't hurt you. On two conditions, that is."

"Anything, just lemme go!"

Curtis dropped Matthews on the icy asphalt. Immediately, he scrambled to his feet and would've sprinted away if he hadn't tripped over an old tin can, giving Curtis another chance to grab him by his hood this time.

"Two conditions, kid."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, sure, whatever you say, man." cowered Matthews, holding his hands up in front of his face.

"One, give me back my stuff." Curtis held out his hands.

A little reluctantly, Matthews pulled out the money, wallet, and knife. "I threw away your gun."

"WHAT?" Curtis shoved the items in his pockets. "Where?"

Matthews pointed down the street. The fox turned around and ran.

Slowly, the hedgehog counted to ten, then started to saunter down the abandoned road in the opposite direction.

"Hey, wait kid!"

Dang it… Matthews stopped and turned; Curtis was tearing back to the alleyway. Matthews knew it wouldn't do any good to try and run away again, this kid was too fast.

"Alright, what do you want?" Matthews asked, less scared now and more impatient. The sooner he was on his own again, the better. He didn't need any more trouble in his life, thank you.

Curtis sat down with his back pressed against the dumpster and motioned for Matthews to do the same. But he only shook his head.

"What's wrong?" asked Curtis.

"I'm not going near you with that gun."

"Oh- this?" said Curtis, pulling out his handgun from inside his jacket. Instinctively, Matthews shrunk away.

"Easy kid, If I told you once I told you a million times, I ain't gonna hurt ya. I'm actually pretty impressed that you had the nerve to pickpocket me." The fox put away his gun. "Now, I said I had two conditions. The second one is that you tell where you learned all this. I mean, I was halfway down the street before I realized that my wallet and gun were missing. That's a skill, my friend."

"We're not friends, and I've always been good at slipping things from other people. It's sort of a hobby of mine. Used to do it as a trick." Matthews shrugged. "Nothing special."

"Alright kid, hear me out." Curtis shoved his hands in his pockets, "I want you to at least hear out my offer. You've only just scratched the surface of your talent. Pickpocketing is a good way to make some extra cash, but come on; it's pretty obvious that you sleep on the street. Begging isn't a life to look forward to. This is a onetime offer to join my ga- er, exclusive group of friends. We can give you a place to sleep, a roof over your head, and you would never have to go to another soup kitchen. I'll admit, gang life isn't the most honest or safest life in the world-"

"That's like saying jumping off a bridge isn't suicide."

"-but it's a way to get out of this nightmare of a life you got right now."

Hesitantly, Matthews contemplated the offer. There were no really big positives or negatives, and it was something that he had never imagined himself in. Him? In a gang? Well, his uncle already believed him to be nothing more than a delinquent. And it wasn't like he enjoyed sleeping out in the cold and never knowing where his next meal would come from.

"Well kid?"

"I need to think about it."

Curtis smiled, "Smart one, you are. How about I take ya to meet our leader? You can decide there."

Matthews looked at the fox. He certainly seemed trustworthy… and his intuition had never steered him wrong before. "Alright. Why not?"

Curtis grinned and motioned for the kid to follow him.

Half an hour of walking later, the two were standing in front of an old warehouse. Curtis knocked on the door, three short raps then waited for a second and gave another knock. With a grinding noise, the large door slid open.

His mind immediately started going off as soon as he saw all of the people. Killed two rival gang members, once held up a convenience store, has a very itchy trigger finger... the list went on and on. In the center of the room, sitting on some wooden boxes, was a large insect-like guy in a dirty and patched trench coat, probably concealing many items in its many pockets. When he saw Matthews, his eyes seemed to do a double take.

"Curtis! What's with the kid?" he called, more than a little annoyed that he'd have to ask that question.

"Well, see, he kinda-sorta-maybe pickpocketed me, Farrell. Almost got away with it, too. Thought you'd like to take a look at him." Curtis pushed Matthews forward a few paces.

The poor hedgehog was officially freaking out. Why had he agreed to come here of all places? His hands were shaking and he refused to look anywhere but the floor.

A voice, a lot gentler than he was used to suddenly spoke, "Hey kiddo. You alright?"

Matthews looked up at the insect man. His mind did a quick mental scan and was shocked at the reading he got back. He instantly relaxed and his shaking ceased, his gaze fell steady. "Yessir."

The insect let out a laugh, "He called me, sir! Hear that boys? Ain't no one ever called me sir before."

Everyone let out a loud laugh, easing Matthews' mind a little more.

Farrell looked at the kid, "What's your name?"

"Man-" he cut off suddenly and switched names, "Matthews."

The cut off was not missed by anyone in the room. Curtis raised an eyebrow and repeated the question.

"Matthews."

"But you were gonna say something else."

"Well, uh, sometimes the kids back home used to call me, uh... Maniac." Which was the truth ... just not the whole truth.

"Maniac!" Farrell laughed, "I like it! So Matt, what skills do you have?"

"Well... pickpocketing, I can lie pretty good, and… good people reading skills, I guess."

Everyone looked doubtful. Very slowly, Matthews began to make his way around the room, as he continued speaking. "Well, I wouldn't say I'm amazing at it or anything, but I'm pretty good. Robbed your man over there blind."

"But he caught you," a random gang member called out.

"Granted," Matthews smiled and gave a playful punch at Curtis, "But I got about two blocks away before he noticed. I'm pretty good at distractions too, ask anyone."

Farrell was watching the kid closely. Something about his movements seemed a bit off…

The hedgehog gave a small grin and made a huge gesture, "I know how to stay positive under pressure. Perhaps a little too positive sometimes." That comment earned a few chuckles.

One of the few girls looked the kid over a few times, "Well, we're looking for professionals, not a skinny kid off the side of the road."

Shrugging, Matthews pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and looked down. "Who's Tommy?"

The girl's eyes widened and she started patting her pockets. She stopped and glared menacingly at the hedgehog, who only grinned boyishly in reply. "Why you… you bratty little thief!" Immediately everyone started to check their pockets for anything missing.

Five minutes later, the hedgehog returned the three touch phones, four flip phones, two switchblades, three handguns, seven wallets, one hat, and of course Farrell's lucky rabbit's foot. When the hubbub died down, Farrell looked at the kid and leaned forward. "Well now…not bad, kid, not bad at all. How's about we talk business?"

*2 years later. Christmas Day.*

Curtis leaned against a dirty brick wall and glared at his watch. "Maniac…" he sighed, annoyed.

Down the street, a green hedgehog wearing torn jeans and a dark red vest with a fanny pack strapped around his waist was sprinting toward the fox, jumping over a mound of filthy snow.

Curtis rolled his eyes and ducked behind the dumpster. " 'Bout time." He cocked and loaded his gun. Better safe than sorry.

Matthews, now twelve, saw the movement but didn't acknowledge him. He was sort of busy running from a rival gang's newest recruit. If anyone asked him, Matt would admit that the squirrel was pretty fast. But he wasn't that fast.

As he ran past the dumpster, the hedgehog tossed what he had been carrying in the alley, while making a big show of tripping.

Curtis grabbed the drive and slipped it in his pocket as the squirrel grabbed the hedgehog and rammed him against the wall. "Alright kid. You get one chance. Give it!"

Matthews grinned and spread out his hands, empty. "Oh dear, I do seem to have dropped it. Clumsy me."

The squirrel gave a low, snarling growl. Curtis snuck up behind him and raised his gun to knock out the teenager. Unfortunately, the squirrel must have heard him or something because he suddenly whirled around and punched the fox in the face, knocking him out almost instantly.

Matthews fell to the ground with an 'oof.' A little dazed, the hedgehog rubbed his head slightly and looked up straight into the barrel of Curtis's handgun that the squirrel had picked up.

Chaos…

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you and your little friend," the teenager growled.

Matthews put his hands up in a show of surrender. "I don't got one. The only one I do have is this," he swung the teen's legs out from under him and scrambled for the fumbled gun.

The squirrel gave a squeal and growl as he dove at the kid. There was one thing he didn't know though…

Matthews punched and kicked the teen until the kid fell unconscious, or at least shut his eyes and quit squirming. He tentatively picked up the gun and slipped it back in Curtis's holster.

Unlike the rest of the gang, Maniac refused to carry a gun, but relied solely on the physical combat skills he had learned over the years. He had been shocked to learn how little his fellow gang members were skilled in hand-to-hand combat. They knew how to do it, duh, but didn't practice it often, usually relying on a gun or a blade. Maniac wasn't above carrying a pocketknife- you'd be crazy not to in this neighborhood- but the only times he had even held a gun were to throw it away.

After Curtis woke up, the two of them made their way back to the headquarters at Farrell's house. Matthews paused outside though, telling Curtis to go on ahead without him. "I just need to think for a minute."

The fox, now a good friend, understood and nodded, leaving the hedgehog alone with his thoughts.

After double checking to make sure he was alone, he pulled out two Polaroid photos. The first was a family picture of his parents and siblings, back when they were truly happy, when everything was simple and fun and carefree. The second was half a photo of Sonia and himself. Their arms were wrapped around the other's shoulders; he was grinning and holding up the peace sign; Sonia was showing off one of her rare but genuine smiles, the joy in her usually serious face prominent. He stared at the picture for a few minutes. Finally, he pocketed the pictures and entered the building, tapping his fingers rapidly against the side of the wall in no particular pattern.

Life had been pretty good these past two years. After that one fateful winter evening, he had been accepted into the gang gradually, each member teaching him something different. All were important, but the man he really owed his survival to was Farrell.

Farrell was both a boss and a mentor. Maniac's job to stay in the gang was simply to steal whatever they told him to steal, and not to get caught; Piece of cake. Mostly, anyway. There had been some pretty close calls, and he had visited the county jail on more than one occasion as a result of his screw-ups. Good thing Farrell had lots of patience with kids.

"Afternoon, Matt." said Farrell as Maniac walked into the small, grimy kitchen and popped open a can of orange soda.

"Hey Farrell," he replied.

"You ready to work on your lessons?"

"You bet!"

"Good." Farrell stood up and walked across the kitchen.

"Oh my! Where is my wallet?" he asked, dramatically, feeling around his trench coat. Grinning, Maniac pulled out a flat red and blue leather wallet out from behind him. Farrell smiled approvingly.

"I see you've been practicing. Well done, lad. You're a good boy, a wonderful student. As a reward, I got you a little something." He reached into his jacket pocket, his expression morphing from pleased to frustrated.

"Now where did I… oh, they were right over…"

"Lose something?" Maniac grinned impishly, clutching a pair of wooden drumsticks. Farrell looked mildly confused for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"M'boy, you're too talented for your own good, I tell ya."

"So these are for me?" Maniac asked, turning the sticks over carefully in his hands.

"Yup. This way you won't have to drum just your fingers on everything in sight. You've earned 'em. Merry Christmas, Matt."

"Thanks!" said Maniac excitedly. He started tapping out a familiar rhythm on the kitchen table.

"That 'Deck the Halls'?" asked Ferrell.

"Hey, 'tis the season."

"You're okay, Matt, you're okay." said Ferrell, slapping Maniac on the back. He retorted by giving him a playful punch in the arm, then went back to drumming.

"I'm gonna need my wallet backnow, kiddo."

"Aww…"

Era's Note:

That was a LONG chapter… Holy Chaos, I didn't know it would be that long… Hope that got you excited for the sequel. Unfortunately, don't expect to see it for about a month. Sorry. In the meantime, check out my current story, Shattered Thorns. Hope to see you there! (;

Halo's Note:

What is it about depressing stories that are so darn fun to write?

You guys have no idea how long me and Era been waiting to write this sequel. Personally Manic (or Matthews, or Maniac, take your pick) is my favorite, both in Underground and in this story. We've thought up enough funny situations for him and the other characters to… oh, I don't know, fill a book. Good thing, too.

I don't know when we'll be publishing the first chapter of 'The Long Road Home' (right now, both of us are working on completing 'Shattered Thorns' before anything), but know that when we do, you're gonna want a front row seat. To keep up to date on this story's and other story's progression, I suggest you go ahead and follow Era.

See you guys in 'The Long Road Home!'

-HaloEssence111