Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. The peeps in Japan do.
My first OLS fic. I might turn it into a series, I might not. Tell me what you think, so I'll know where to go on this. Before you read, lemme tell you some stuff. A) I don't know how old Gene was when his dad died, so, I may totally screw up about that. B) A lot of this stuff might not be accurate. So, don't kill me. C) This takes place BEFORE OLS. D) Enjoy...
The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking
pt. 1
For the most part, he was worried. He had been like this for several days now, and didn't seem to be improving. There was, however, a part of him that was not concerned. The boy was young, and had gotten out of many scrapes. He knew his immune system could not fail, just as his mind never did. And if it did fail?
No, it wouldn't come to that. He felt he was worrying over nothing.
But the boy was something, wasn't he? He sighed as he sat down, while running his hand through his red hair. He was used to this kind of stress, but just the same, he'd rather not have to earn all of the money by himself. Wandering the streets, and looking for a job alone, was getting him no where. He needed the other half of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises, but unfortunately, the other half was not functional at all.
He looked at the bed across the room, and slightly frowned. It seemed that lump in the sheets hadn't really moved much that day, much less say anything. He slowly, and silently got up from his chair, and made his way over to the bed. He didn't know much about this sort of situation. He was honestly thinking about finding a doctor, but money was something they didn't have much of. He was in what they called a slump. Jobs were getting scarce to find.
He found his young partner curled up beneath the blue sheets, sleeping peacefully, his eye lashes resting upon his cheek. At least he was sleeping. Ever so quietly, he tried to cover up his friend better, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible; he had been complaining about being cold last night. The boy turned upon his back, but did not awaken. His dirty blond hair was disheveled, as well as having trickles of sweat in it. Cautiously, he put his hand on the boy's forehead, after which, brushed the bangs away from his serene face.
There wasn't really much he could do, except hope his friend could wait it out. He decided that when he awoke, he would ask him if he wanted something to eat, though he was sure the answer would be no. He would just make him eat anyway. He turned around, and began to head out of the room. However, he was startled when he heard a voice coming from the lump in the bed.
"Aniki," was the weak call. Gene Starwind abruptly stopped walking, as his face once again masked itself in its normal mask of security, and calmness.
"So," he said, "you're awake."
"You woke me up." Gene raised an eyebrow.
"I did?" He walked over to the bed, his eyebrow still raised. "You can be such a light sleeper when you're sick, it could have been anything." Jim Hawking tried to sit up, his glassy eyes barely open. "I wouldn't do that." Gene pushed his friend back down. "Want something to eat?"
"No."
"Well, too bad." A sigh escaped Jim, as his partially opened eyes, closed again. He was too tired to argue. This was definitely not a good sign to Gene. "I'm going to go fix something for you. If you're asleep when I come back, I'll just wake you up." Gene didn't wait for an answer, as he left the room.
Gene had many skills, as he had gained many scars while acquiring them. However, there was one thing that Gene was inadequate at, and he dreaded it. Cooking. Even young Jim surpassed his cooking skills, and neither of them were very good at it. Deciding just to make something simple, he stuck several pieces bread in the oven. He was actually hungry, unlike Jim, so he decided to make himself some toast as well.
After turning on the oven, he sat on the counter, and patiently waited for his bread to become crispy. He quickly jumped off, however, when he thought he heard someone. A voice...Jim's voice.
"Aniki!"
"Yeah?"
"Aniki!" He truly sounded distressed this time.
"I'm coming!" He quickly walked out of the kitchen and into Jim's room. His eyes darted around the room, as he wondered what was wrong.
Nothing was amiss. "Jim?" He ran over to the bed. "Jim." His eyebrows shot up to see Jim asleep, his chest gently rising and falling. Maybe he had cried out in his sleep? Or maybe he didn't say anything at all. Gene rubbed his aching temples. "This stress is gettin' to me." After a few moments, his eyes grew wide. "The toast!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jim stared at his charred toast, his eyebrow slightly raised. "Sorry about the toast," muttered Gene, as he bit into a piece of the over-toasted toast.
"S'ok," said Jim weakly. "I like the color black." Gene scowled, and snatched the toast off of Jim's plate.
"You know, I didn't have to make this for you." He took a knife and began to scrape off the black crumbs from the toast. After a few minutes of doing that, he put what was left back on Jim's plate, which sat on the bed. "Try not to get crumbs on the sheets. I really don't like doing laundry." There was silence for a moment, as Jim picked up his toast and began to examine it.
"Aniki," inquired Jim softly, "will you tell me a story?"
"Don't you think you're a little...old...for that?" Gene spoke with his mouth full.
"I just don't remember."
"What? You can't remember your age?"
"No." Jim looked a bit exasperated. "Can't remember how we met."
"Oh." Gene set a piece of toast down on his plate. "So let me get this straight. You want me to tell you how we met?"
"Yeah."
"And you can't remember?!"
"I can, but some of it's foggy. Plus, I'm bored."
"Oh..." He leaned back in his chair. "Fine, I'll tell you. But don't expect me to remember every little detail. And you have to eat your toast." He took a brief pause. "Now...let me see..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a tough fight, but he finally had made a name for himself. Sure, it took some time - a year to be exact, but it was well worth the effort. Though his young age of 16, many knew him, and many feared him. Well...more people knew him than they did fear him, but that was okay....
He was proud of who he was. His unique style, his read hair, and the red star he had recently tattooed on his arm. He even had his own business - Starwind Enterprises. What was it for? Anything, really. Just as long as it paid well, Gene Starwind didn't care what it was. But then again, that was what Starwind Enterprises was all about - any odd job he could find so he could continue on living.
He still craved adventure, though...
However, little did he know, for he was about to be sucked into one of the most fateful adventures of his life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His food tasted like trash, and if he hadn't of cooked it himself, he would have thought it was. Not only was the food nasty, but the building was as well. Gene never kept his home clean, just like any normal teenage boy. Of course, Gene knew he wasn't normal. Far from it, actually. He sighed as he looked down at his nasty pile of green mush...whatever it was. It was *supposed* to be scrambled eggs, but he didn't remember them ever being green...
A knock echoed throughout the building, as his eyes looked up from his plate. Silently, he got up from his chair, and walked over to the door. Who would possibly come over this late at night? Maybe it was some hot girl...
His face exposed a sly grin. He certainly hoped so. He casually opened the door, but to his utter disappointment, there stood a short, plump man, with dark eyes, and black hair. Unquestionably not the babe of his dreams. "You Gene Starwind?" The sly grin disappeared from Gene's face.
"Yeah, I am."
"Mind if I come in?" Gene raised an eyebrow.
"That depends," he said slowly. The short man, brought one of his tanned, and scarred hands out from his pocket, revealing some money in its grasp.
"I need you to do a job for me." Judging by the serious expression on the man's face (and the big wad of money), Gene decided that he was being truthful.
"Then come in."
"Thank you." The man slightly bowed, as Gene stepped out of the way. "My name is Adam Bailey," he said as he stepped in. "I don't believe we've met before." Gene eyed Adam carefully.
"I've seen you at the bar with some other guy a couple of times, but we've never talked." Adam slightly nodded.
"Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about."
"Yeah?"
"I've got a bounty hunting job for you to do." Adam slightly smiled. "That is, if you have experience." Now Gene had never really been given a job like that before, and as a result, did not have much experience being a bounty hunter, but that money sure was looking good...
"Of course I've had experience!" Exclaimed Gene, who seemed appalled. Adam laughed quietly, as he pulled a small picture from his pocket. He handed it to Gene, who looked at it quietly.
"My best friend." The picture was slightly blurry, but Gene could make out a tall man, with dark eyes, and red hair. "He looks a lot like you. Ever seen him before?"
"Yeah - this is the guy you went to the bar with," answered Gene as he handed the picture back to Adam.
"He was my best friend," sighed Adam sadly.
"Was?" Adam, slipped the picture back into his pocket, as he looked at Gene square in the eye.
"Yes; was. He's dead now. So is his wife." Adam scowled. "They were brutally murdered in their sleep. And I know who did it, too." He shook his head, as he turned away from Gene. "It's sickening."
"I'm really sorry that your friend is dead and all, but..." Gene made an awkward face.
"You want to know what this has to do with you," finished Adam, as he faced Gene again.
"Right."
"I want you to capture the murder...and kill him." Adam handed him yet another picture of a tall man, who appeared to be in his late 50's, his long hair completely gray, his eyes an odd shade of violet. He appeared to be a laid back person, and his smile was one of delight. "His name is Edward Knight." Gene wouldn't have known he was a murderer. "He was last seen two nights ago at a club a couple of blocks away from here."
"I don't want to be nosy or anything but, why don't you take this to the police?" Gene looked at Adam a bit skeptically.
"Well, I know this may sound silly, but," Adam somewhat smiled, "my friend never really...er...trusted the police. I figured I should leave them out of it, if I wanted to truly avenge to death of my friend."
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"How much are you paying?" To Gene, this was the most important question.
"1,000 wong." Gene grinned. "It's not that much, I know, but I'm only a lowly mechanic."
"It's fine."
"Another thing," said Adam. "If you find a kid with Knight, you bring him to me, okay? I didn't find my friend's kid anywhere, and I think Knight has him."
"And if he's not with Knight?"
"Then he's more than likely dead." Adam fished around in his pocket and handed him a wad of money. Gene counted it, and looked at Adam with a surprised expression.
"This is 1,000 wong!"
"I know. I'm paying you in advance."
"What...?"
"I trust you'll get the job done. Plus, you'll need some cash while looking for Knight, so..." Adam laughed, as he walked out of the door. "My number's on the back of that picture." He stopped walking and looked back at Gene. "But don't go thinking about copping out on me. If you do..." Adam unzipped his jacket a bit, enough to reveal a shiny pistol tucked neatly inside. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Gene nervously chuckled a bit. "Oh, and, sir?"
"Yes?"
"What was your friend's name?"
"James Hawking."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey, Clyde." Gene Starwind leaned against the bar counter, while casually holding the picture of Edward Knight in his hand. "What you been up to?"
"Oh, hey, Gene." Clyde, the bartender looked over at Gene, as he rubbed a small glass clean with a rag. "I thought I told you...you have to have an ID before you can drink. And since you're only 16, you don't have one."
"I didn't come to drink, Clyde."
"No?"
"No." Clyde slowly walked over to where he was facing Gene. "I came here to ask you something."
"And what would that be?" Gene held the picture in front of the bartender's face.
"Ever seen this man before?" Clyde squinted at the picture a bit before nodding.
"I have. Edward Knight."
"What do you know about him?" Clyde raised an eyebrow as he thought for a moment. "He used to come here every night until recently. Don't know much about what happened to him, though."
"Do you have any idea of his whereabouts?"
"No, not really," sighed Clyde, as he continued cleaning the glass. "Though I did see him follow a guy named James Hawking when he left, if that helps any." Gene frowned a bit. "Gene, if you're doing what I think you're doing, forget about it."
"Huh?"
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Whatever." Just then, a terrible sound came from outside, followed by many people screaming. Everyone in the bar looked around, not knowing what it was. Gene left his spot on the counter, and ran outside, into the cold, dark night.
There, laying in the middle of the street, was the crumpled form of Adam Bailey, the street light reflecting on his bloody face. Quickly, Gene ran over to a terrified woman, who was in front of the bar. "Did you see what happened here?"
"It was a hit and run," whispered the woman. "It was terrible!"
"Did you see which way the car went?" The woman nodded, as she pointed towards a dark alley. "Thanks." Gene quickly ran past the man's body, and into the dark lane. He didn't have to run far, for halfway through the alley, was a red, convertible hovercar, floating above the dirty, gray concrete. Gene thought he heard a muffled child's cry, which immediately silenced.
"I knew you'd come." An old man slightly chuckled as he stepped out of the classic. "Bailey...feh...who knew he'd drag someone down with him?" He eyes Gene a bit more carefully. "He hired a young one, did he? Stupid Bailey." Gene stepped forward, as he grabbed a knife from his pocket. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
"And why is that?" Inquired Gene, as he smirked. The old man smiled.
"Stand up, kid." At first, Gene wondered if the old man had been speaking to him, but to his surprise, he saw a little boy stand up from the back seat of the car. He had dirty blond hair, and tearful, dark eyes. "You see this kid? He won't be standing anymore if you try to attack me. Got it?" The old man quickly drew out a gun. Gene sighed, as he still held his knife. "I'd forget about this whole thing, if I were you. You don't want to end up like your friend Bailey, do you? Or like James Hawking for that matter." The old man smiled, as a street light brushed against his features. That gray hair, and violet eyes...
"You're Edward Knight!" The old man laughed.
"Indeed. I see Bailey told you about me." Edward began to aim with his gun. "In that case, I'll have to kill you." Gene scowled. He wish he had brought his gun. "You know, I hear you're only 16. Too bad you'll have to die at such a young age. Oh, well." Edward laughed. "The fact you look older will make up for it, huh?"
"Maybe so." It honestly looked like the old man was going to pull the trigger. The little boy looked over at his captor, and a small sob escaped him.
"Shut up, kid. Let me show you what happened to your mommy and daddy." Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the little boy screamed, and jumped out from the car, landing on Edward Knight.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I think I'm going to stop there. You look pretty tired." Gene looked down at his ailing friend.
"No...keep on going. I want to know..." Jim sighed softly, his eyes slowly closing.
"You know what happens, Jim. Geez!"
"It's so cool...the way you tell it."
"Thanks, but I'll continue later, okay? You really look bushed." Before he even finished his sentence, Gene noticed his partner was already asleep. He gently brushed the bangs away from his face once again, as his eyes trailed over to the bed side table.
"AGH! He didn't eat the toast!"
~*~*~*~*~*~* End part 1
Sooo...what did you think? Was it good, did it suck...?
My first OLS fic. I might turn it into a series, I might not. Tell me what you think, so I'll know where to go on this. Before you read, lemme tell you some stuff. A) I don't know how old Gene was when his dad died, so, I may totally screw up about that. B) A lot of this stuff might not be accurate. So, don't kill me. C) This takes place BEFORE OLS. D) Enjoy...
The Chronicles of Starwind and Hawking
pt. 1
For the most part, he was worried. He had been like this for several days now, and didn't seem to be improving. There was, however, a part of him that was not concerned. The boy was young, and had gotten out of many scrapes. He knew his immune system could not fail, just as his mind never did. And if it did fail?
No, it wouldn't come to that. He felt he was worrying over nothing.
But the boy was something, wasn't he? He sighed as he sat down, while running his hand through his red hair. He was used to this kind of stress, but just the same, he'd rather not have to earn all of the money by himself. Wandering the streets, and looking for a job alone, was getting him no where. He needed the other half of Starwind and Hawking Enterprises, but unfortunately, the other half was not functional at all.
He looked at the bed across the room, and slightly frowned. It seemed that lump in the sheets hadn't really moved much that day, much less say anything. He slowly, and silently got up from his chair, and made his way over to the bed. He didn't know much about this sort of situation. He was honestly thinking about finding a doctor, but money was something they didn't have much of. He was in what they called a slump. Jobs were getting scarce to find.
He found his young partner curled up beneath the blue sheets, sleeping peacefully, his eye lashes resting upon his cheek. At least he was sleeping. Ever so quietly, he tried to cover up his friend better, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible; he had been complaining about being cold last night. The boy turned upon his back, but did not awaken. His dirty blond hair was disheveled, as well as having trickles of sweat in it. Cautiously, he put his hand on the boy's forehead, after which, brushed the bangs away from his serene face.
There wasn't really much he could do, except hope his friend could wait it out. He decided that when he awoke, he would ask him if he wanted something to eat, though he was sure the answer would be no. He would just make him eat anyway. He turned around, and began to head out of the room. However, he was startled when he heard a voice coming from the lump in the bed.
"Aniki," was the weak call. Gene Starwind abruptly stopped walking, as his face once again masked itself in its normal mask of security, and calmness.
"So," he said, "you're awake."
"You woke me up." Gene raised an eyebrow.
"I did?" He walked over to the bed, his eyebrow still raised. "You can be such a light sleeper when you're sick, it could have been anything." Jim Hawking tried to sit up, his glassy eyes barely open. "I wouldn't do that." Gene pushed his friend back down. "Want something to eat?"
"No."
"Well, too bad." A sigh escaped Jim, as his partially opened eyes, closed again. He was too tired to argue. This was definitely not a good sign to Gene. "I'm going to go fix something for you. If you're asleep when I come back, I'll just wake you up." Gene didn't wait for an answer, as he left the room.
Gene had many skills, as he had gained many scars while acquiring them. However, there was one thing that Gene was inadequate at, and he dreaded it. Cooking. Even young Jim surpassed his cooking skills, and neither of them were very good at it. Deciding just to make something simple, he stuck several pieces bread in the oven. He was actually hungry, unlike Jim, so he decided to make himself some toast as well.
After turning on the oven, he sat on the counter, and patiently waited for his bread to become crispy. He quickly jumped off, however, when he thought he heard someone. A voice...Jim's voice.
"Aniki!"
"Yeah?"
"Aniki!" He truly sounded distressed this time.
"I'm coming!" He quickly walked out of the kitchen and into Jim's room. His eyes darted around the room, as he wondered what was wrong.
Nothing was amiss. "Jim?" He ran over to the bed. "Jim." His eyebrows shot up to see Jim asleep, his chest gently rising and falling. Maybe he had cried out in his sleep? Or maybe he didn't say anything at all. Gene rubbed his aching temples. "This stress is gettin' to me." After a few moments, his eyes grew wide. "The toast!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Jim stared at his charred toast, his eyebrow slightly raised. "Sorry about the toast," muttered Gene, as he bit into a piece of the over-toasted toast.
"S'ok," said Jim weakly. "I like the color black." Gene scowled, and snatched the toast off of Jim's plate.
"You know, I didn't have to make this for you." He took a knife and began to scrape off the black crumbs from the toast. After a few minutes of doing that, he put what was left back on Jim's plate, which sat on the bed. "Try not to get crumbs on the sheets. I really don't like doing laundry." There was silence for a moment, as Jim picked up his toast and began to examine it.
"Aniki," inquired Jim softly, "will you tell me a story?"
"Don't you think you're a little...old...for that?" Gene spoke with his mouth full.
"I just don't remember."
"What? You can't remember your age?"
"No." Jim looked a bit exasperated. "Can't remember how we met."
"Oh." Gene set a piece of toast down on his plate. "So let me get this straight. You want me to tell you how we met?"
"Yeah."
"And you can't remember?!"
"I can, but some of it's foggy. Plus, I'm bored."
"Oh..." He leaned back in his chair. "Fine, I'll tell you. But don't expect me to remember every little detail. And you have to eat your toast." He took a brief pause. "Now...let me see..."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
It had been a tough fight, but he finally had made a name for himself. Sure, it took some time - a year to be exact, but it was well worth the effort. Though his young age of 16, many knew him, and many feared him. Well...more people knew him than they did fear him, but that was okay....
He was proud of who he was. His unique style, his read hair, and the red star he had recently tattooed on his arm. He even had his own business - Starwind Enterprises. What was it for? Anything, really. Just as long as it paid well, Gene Starwind didn't care what it was. But then again, that was what Starwind Enterprises was all about - any odd job he could find so he could continue on living.
He still craved adventure, though...
However, little did he know, for he was about to be sucked into one of the most fateful adventures of his life.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His food tasted like trash, and if he hadn't of cooked it himself, he would have thought it was. Not only was the food nasty, but the building was as well. Gene never kept his home clean, just like any normal teenage boy. Of course, Gene knew he wasn't normal. Far from it, actually. He sighed as he looked down at his nasty pile of green mush...whatever it was. It was *supposed* to be scrambled eggs, but he didn't remember them ever being green...
A knock echoed throughout the building, as his eyes looked up from his plate. Silently, he got up from his chair, and walked over to the door. Who would possibly come over this late at night? Maybe it was some hot girl...
His face exposed a sly grin. He certainly hoped so. He casually opened the door, but to his utter disappointment, there stood a short, plump man, with dark eyes, and black hair. Unquestionably not the babe of his dreams. "You Gene Starwind?" The sly grin disappeared from Gene's face.
"Yeah, I am."
"Mind if I come in?" Gene raised an eyebrow.
"That depends," he said slowly. The short man, brought one of his tanned, and scarred hands out from his pocket, revealing some money in its grasp.
"I need you to do a job for me." Judging by the serious expression on the man's face (and the big wad of money), Gene decided that he was being truthful.
"Then come in."
"Thank you." The man slightly bowed, as Gene stepped out of the way. "My name is Adam Bailey," he said as he stepped in. "I don't believe we've met before." Gene eyed Adam carefully.
"I've seen you at the bar with some other guy a couple of times, but we've never talked." Adam slightly nodded.
"Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about."
"Yeah?"
"I've got a bounty hunting job for you to do." Adam slightly smiled. "That is, if you have experience." Now Gene had never really been given a job like that before, and as a result, did not have much experience being a bounty hunter, but that money sure was looking good...
"Of course I've had experience!" Exclaimed Gene, who seemed appalled. Adam laughed quietly, as he pulled a small picture from his pocket. He handed it to Gene, who looked at it quietly.
"My best friend." The picture was slightly blurry, but Gene could make out a tall man, with dark eyes, and red hair. "He looks a lot like you. Ever seen him before?"
"Yeah - this is the guy you went to the bar with," answered Gene as he handed the picture back to Adam.
"He was my best friend," sighed Adam sadly.
"Was?" Adam, slipped the picture back into his pocket, as he looked at Gene square in the eye.
"Yes; was. He's dead now. So is his wife." Adam scowled. "They were brutally murdered in their sleep. And I know who did it, too." He shook his head, as he turned away from Gene. "It's sickening."
"I'm really sorry that your friend is dead and all, but..." Gene made an awkward face.
"You want to know what this has to do with you," finished Adam, as he faced Gene again.
"Right."
"I want you to capture the murder...and kill him." Adam handed him yet another picture of a tall man, who appeared to be in his late 50's, his long hair completely gray, his eyes an odd shade of violet. He appeared to be a laid back person, and his smile was one of delight. "His name is Edward Knight." Gene wouldn't have known he was a murderer. "He was last seen two nights ago at a club a couple of blocks away from here."
"I don't want to be nosy or anything but, why don't you take this to the police?" Gene looked at Adam a bit skeptically.
"Well, I know this may sound silly, but," Adam somewhat smiled, "my friend never really...er...trusted the police. I figured I should leave them out of it, if I wanted to truly avenge to death of my friend."
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"How much are you paying?" To Gene, this was the most important question.
"1,000 wong." Gene grinned. "It's not that much, I know, but I'm only a lowly mechanic."
"It's fine."
"Another thing," said Adam. "If you find a kid with Knight, you bring him to me, okay? I didn't find my friend's kid anywhere, and I think Knight has him."
"And if he's not with Knight?"
"Then he's more than likely dead." Adam fished around in his pocket and handed him a wad of money. Gene counted it, and looked at Adam with a surprised expression.
"This is 1,000 wong!"
"I know. I'm paying you in advance."
"What...?"
"I trust you'll get the job done. Plus, you'll need some cash while looking for Knight, so..." Adam laughed, as he walked out of the door. "My number's on the back of that picture." He stopped walking and looked back at Gene. "But don't go thinking about copping out on me. If you do..." Adam unzipped his jacket a bit, enough to reveal a shiny pistol tucked neatly inside. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that."
Gene nervously chuckled a bit. "Oh, and, sir?"
"Yes?"
"What was your friend's name?"
"James Hawking."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Hey, Clyde." Gene Starwind leaned against the bar counter, while casually holding the picture of Edward Knight in his hand. "What you been up to?"
"Oh, hey, Gene." Clyde, the bartender looked over at Gene, as he rubbed a small glass clean with a rag. "I thought I told you...you have to have an ID before you can drink. And since you're only 16, you don't have one."
"I didn't come to drink, Clyde."
"No?"
"No." Clyde slowly walked over to where he was facing Gene. "I came here to ask you something."
"And what would that be?" Gene held the picture in front of the bartender's face.
"Ever seen this man before?" Clyde squinted at the picture a bit before nodding.
"I have. Edward Knight."
"What do you know about him?" Clyde raised an eyebrow as he thought for a moment. "He used to come here every night until recently. Don't know much about what happened to him, though."
"Do you have any idea of his whereabouts?"
"No, not really," sighed Clyde, as he continued cleaning the glass. "Though I did see him follow a guy named James Hawking when he left, if that helps any." Gene frowned a bit. "Gene, if you're doing what I think you're doing, forget about it."
"Huh?"
"You know what I'm talking about."
"Whatever." Just then, a terrible sound came from outside, followed by many people screaming. Everyone in the bar looked around, not knowing what it was. Gene left his spot on the counter, and ran outside, into the cold, dark night.
There, laying in the middle of the street, was the crumpled form of Adam Bailey, the street light reflecting on his bloody face. Quickly, Gene ran over to a terrified woman, who was in front of the bar. "Did you see what happened here?"
"It was a hit and run," whispered the woman. "It was terrible!"
"Did you see which way the car went?" The woman nodded, as she pointed towards a dark alley. "Thanks." Gene quickly ran past the man's body, and into the dark lane. He didn't have to run far, for halfway through the alley, was a red, convertible hovercar, floating above the dirty, gray concrete. Gene thought he heard a muffled child's cry, which immediately silenced.
"I knew you'd come." An old man slightly chuckled as he stepped out of the classic. "Bailey...feh...who knew he'd drag someone down with him?" He eyes Gene a bit more carefully. "He hired a young one, did he? Stupid Bailey." Gene stepped forward, as he grabbed a knife from his pocket. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
"And why is that?" Inquired Gene, as he smirked. The old man smiled.
"Stand up, kid." At first, Gene wondered if the old man had been speaking to him, but to his surprise, he saw a little boy stand up from the back seat of the car. He had dirty blond hair, and tearful, dark eyes. "You see this kid? He won't be standing anymore if you try to attack me. Got it?" The old man quickly drew out a gun. Gene sighed, as he still held his knife. "I'd forget about this whole thing, if I were you. You don't want to end up like your friend Bailey, do you? Or like James Hawking for that matter." The old man smiled, as a street light brushed against his features. That gray hair, and violet eyes...
"You're Edward Knight!" The old man laughed.
"Indeed. I see Bailey told you about me." Edward began to aim with his gun. "In that case, I'll have to kill you." Gene scowled. He wish he had brought his gun. "You know, I hear you're only 16. Too bad you'll have to die at such a young age. Oh, well." Edward laughed. "The fact you look older will make up for it, huh?"
"Maybe so." It honestly looked like the old man was going to pull the trigger. The little boy looked over at his captor, and a small sob escaped him.
"Shut up, kid. Let me show you what happened to your mommy and daddy." Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the little boy screamed, and jumped out from the car, landing on Edward Knight.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I think I'm going to stop there. You look pretty tired." Gene looked down at his ailing friend.
"No...keep on going. I want to know..." Jim sighed softly, his eyes slowly closing.
"You know what happens, Jim. Geez!"
"It's so cool...the way you tell it."
"Thanks, but I'll continue later, okay? You really look bushed." Before he even finished his sentence, Gene noticed his partner was already asleep. He gently brushed the bangs away from his face once again, as his eyes trailed over to the bed side table.
"AGH! He didn't eat the toast!"
~*~*~*~*~*~* End part 1
Sooo...what did you think? Was it good, did it suck...?