Even at 1:43 AM, the Big Apple was awake.

All those city lights…they looked like stars, like fragmented moonlight on a sable sea. Yet the gems were tarnished…soiled by filth that lurked even outside the city's deepest corners. The darker side of society now roamed where, just hours ago, pedestrians of all walks of life once milled about like ants. Nothing was considered sacred.

By day, a concrete jungle…by night, an overpopulated freak show…

Welcome to the gateway of America.

Welcome to New York City.

Clouds swallowed the tips of skyscrapers, their swollen forms rumbling like guttural beasts. Streaks of white-hot lightning occasionally cleaved the murkiness with their startling brilliance. The atmosphere was heavily charged, unstable…

…a reflection of the city it smothered.

Not the best time for a casual stroll.

Alex pulled his jacket more tightly around him. He REALLY hated this weather. Temperatures were steadily dropping; the chill nipped at his eyes, forcing him to squint as he trudged down the near-lifeless street. Goddamned clouds. Rain was a guarantee, he just didn't want to be caught in it when it started…

…Christ, this is depressing.

God only knew how far he'd gone since storming out of the gym. Alex's aimless pace showed no hurry. Regardless, his hesitation was evident, his confusion twisting his features into an array of expressions. He jammed his chilled hands into the pockets of his jacket, paying no attention to the faint -PAP- of his overalls' straps as they slapped against his legs. Irritation was worn on his face like a giant 'kick me' sign slapped onto somebody's back.

Did that rectify losing his temper in front of Patricia?

…no.

The rhythm of his footfalls ground to a halt. Guilt set in.

What the Hell was he thinking? Disregarding his little sister just because Leah had gone beyond the call of duty to piss him off…

…what kind of excuse was that?

A lame one.

You really screwed up back there. You saw the look on Patricia's face, didn't you…?

Alex grimaced. He screwed up, alright…screwed up beyond expectation. At the same time, though…he almost couldn't blame himself. What WAS it was about Brent's daughter that got on the wrong side of him, anyway? Her rotten personality? Her bad timing? Maybe it was that damned sermon she was spouting…

Or…maybe it was because Tom tried to make the same point.

"… …"

Alex bit his lip, leering unpleasantly at the pain that shot through his mouth. Like Hell he'd admit that Leah made a little sense. What gave her the right to bitch at him? She barely had her own head on straight!

So what now? She knows who I'm looking for…

…whereas he didn't. Alex grunted in irritation. He'd have to go back if he wanted answers…and the fact that Leah was involved didn't make him feel any less annoyed.

But what COULD he do? Go back and rattle an answer out of her? Apologize in hopes she'd spill the beans? Shyeah, like she was gonna do that after he beat the tar out of her!

She's not gonna tell me, not after THAT…

… … …

…the pause lengthened. Maybe it was his imagination, but the air seemed to be getting colder…

Dammit.

A chill crept down his spine. He shivered in discomfort, noticing that stray drops of rain were beginning to discolor the street. Great…and he was stuck out in the open. Unless he wanted to get soaked, he'd have to find shelter pretty fast.

…speaking of shelter…

Where the Hell am I…?

Graffiti. Everywhere. The walls were a veritable gallery of gang art…some recent, some faded, others blotted out by concerned locals. Overturned garbage cans lay neglected in the alleys, their contents spilled out into the open. Light was few and far between.

There was also an unsavory stench that lingered in the air. What the Hell WAS that…?

Aw SHIT…

Alex quickly realized where he was-

Central Harlem.

Eyes were watching him. Many eyes. All around. Unfriendly-like. Alex swore under his breath, wishing he hadn't been roaming around in a daze. No honest citizen would stray into this part of the city, not under any circumstance.

…unless, of course, they were looking for trouble…

Footsteps scuffled nearby. Alex's eyes narrowed, fists clenching within his pockets. He wasn't a stranger to places like this. Punks were always picking fights with him, mouthing off as if trying to compensate for something. A scowl ignited the red streaks on his face.

Take it out on garbage.

Cull the frustration.

A fight. That's what he needed.

If pain was what these jerkoffs wanted, he'd be more than happy to comply.

"Get your asses out here, I don't have time for this!"

More shuffling. Profanities. A few metallic clatters here and there. Despite the horrible visibility, Alex saw three faint shapes slinking amidst the refuse-choked alley, each one of them about half his size. They seemed armed…with what, it was too dark to tell.

None showed signs of approaching, either. Were they measuring him up…?

Friggin' inconvenience…

"You losers gonna come out or not!?"

The crash of metal on metal answered. Garbage cans tumbled. The pungent alley stench intensified as refuse scattered in all directions.

Feh, could've done without THAT, you jackasses…

Like drunks staggering out of Happy Hour, the trio finally came into view…typical gang bangers, each sporting metal baseball bats. None of them were anything spectacular. Alex squinted. Had he seen these runts before? Something about them seemed vaguely familiar, but…

Eh, it wasn't like he make a point in remembering every punk he met.

"…you th' one that took out Leo?"

Alex caught the hateful glare the lead youth shot him. His brows furrowed "…what?"

"I'm askin', you the son 'f a bitch who took out Leo!?"

The kid couldn't have been more than fourteen. Hell, there wasn't even a trace of peach-fuzz on his chin. Alex grunted in disgust. It wasn't a surprise to see one this young, not when they riddled the city like termites. Even in the dim light, he could see rough scars on the other's face-a testament to his lawless ways. This was the epitome of wasted youth…a life spent running the streets like starved sewer rats and roaches-

They preyed on others.

Made life miserable.

Acted like the victim when cornered.

Friggin' trash…

"You deaf!? I'm talkin' to you!"

No response. Alex's eyes were cold, unresponsive. His thoughts churned violently.

Wait…that fight two weeks ago?

…he remembered. That's when Tom disappeared. He'd been searching when he made the mistake of taking a shortcut through this neighborhood-the hasty decision made him the target of local thugs. Maybe the bastards thought he was an easy mark, he hadn't a damn clue. All he knew is that they attacked…and he fought back. By the time it was over, the gang lay battered amidst the refuse, their leader, Leo, sporting several broken bones…

They'd gotten off easy. His mood wasn't soured enough to go berserk.

And the boy? That's right…Alex remembered the kid referring to Leo as 'big brother'.

So he wants to get even, huh…

…pathetic.

Alex snarled, blue eyes flickering savagely. What made them think that their losses were so great? What made them think that they had the right to hunt him down, just to settle the score when they only had themselves to blame? They'd only lost their worthless pride whereas he had nearly lost family!

That's just how it went. Punks always got off easy while honest folks took the brunt of their shit. Yeah...Leo would recover. But Tom…

…Tom was-

A flash. Metal swung in from the left.

Idiots.

Alex only had to twist aside. The shoddy blow whistling past, crashing loudly against a nearby dumpster. Debris flew. Surprise flickered on the attacker's face…

…just before a strong fist caught him in the back, hitting with enough force to slam him against the metal container struck just earlier. He groaned before slumping to the ground, unconscious.

The others immediately halted.

Alex spat. Were these punks really serious? It didn't even take two seconds to put one of them out of the fight and now the others were having second thoughts! He jerked the edges of his jacket, rainwater scattering as he took methodical steps towards the two that remained.

They inched back in response.

Alex stopped. The others were quick to follow suit.

Nothing moved.

…only the rain.

Fear…he could see it emerge in their eyes, merging with pure, unreasonable hate.

The sentiment was reflected.

Another veil of anger clouded Alex's thoughts. Frustrations mounted. If they hated him so much, what held them back from attacking? Fear? Uncertainty? Both?

Too late to back out now.

He shouldn't have been able to move so quickly. Rampaging bulls were powerful, intimidating beasts…not fleet-footed, keen-eyed, intelligent. They shouldn't be able to move at such a horrific speed.

Alex didn't give a damn about the rules.

He moved like a freight train, charging with all the power of out-of-control machinery. Not even the obstacle course of garbage set before him hindered him. The second thug was taken out in a split second…clotheslined into the very rubble that spawned him.

But the enraged bull didn't stop. There was one still standing, one left to take out. He surged forward, barely acknowledging the look of terror on the other's face. The world was nothing more than a crimson curtain…

Another flash of metal cleaved the air.

A series of clicks followed.

Alex's instincts screamed danger-the charge halted. His breath caught in his throat, muscles stiffened painfully-

His vision cleared.

All he could see was the soulless barrel of a Colt .45 aimed inches from his forehead…

…and the desperate face of the boy who held it.

"You okay…?"

"…yeah, just tired…"

Nothing seemed to stir. Rain fell steadily, gently, sighing as it pattered against the stagnant street. Thunder had long since passed. If not for the notoriety of the neighborhood, the sounds would have been soothing…

…but they weren't.

They were terrifying.

Patricia was scared. She could barely see anything through the rain; the street lamps were sparse, stingy with their light. Despite the fact that Leah had sacrificed her jacket to keep the girl warm, the air was still painfully cold. She desperately wanted to go home…

I have to find Alex before anything happens.

But that was easier said than done…

Dad always warned her to avoid Central Harlem. "It isn't a place for girls your age to go alone," he would say. More than ever, she understood why-the atmosphere of the place gave the impression of hostile territory…something to avoid at all costs. If Leah hadn't gone with her…

For a moment…Patricia felt envious. Alex never had to worry about passing through a neighborhood like this. He knew how to fight. Dad taught him to be tough, to defend himself, whereas violence frightened her. She didn't know how to throw a punch, much less make it hurt!

But…wasn't that just how things were? She was just Daddy's little girl, after all…always needing protection from her big brother…

-girls are weak-

…but Leah wasn't…

Was that the only reason? Patricia winced, feeling guilty for getting the woman directly involved in her problems. She knew that Alex wouldn't listen, not when his anger got the better of him…so why? Why'd she think that Leah could get through to him? Because she was strong? Because she knew how strong the guy who hurt Dad was? Because she could actually FIGHT?

…maybe. He wouldn't listen to his own little sister, after all…

I don't understand it.

Why DID Alex enjoy fighting…? It was always the same whenever something upset him-he'd vanish into the streets, coming home all cut up and bruised from the confrontations he'd start. God only knew how badly he beat up his opponents. Patricia had lost track of the times Dad chewed him out for causing trouble, but…it was like he never really listened.

Alex, you idiot…

Helpless. Distant. She missed him.

You're always fighting, like you're addicted to it…

She hated it.

Can you only answer with your fists?

She REALLY hated it.

Maybe it's just a nightmare. Maybe Dad and Alex are at home, talking about that upstate camp trip that we've been wanting to take.

…like THAT would happen…

Patricia shivered. Was her luck really that bad? She just wanted to find her brother and make sure he wasn't getting himself hurt…but she was exhausted, hungry, and-worst of all-soaked. Either she kept going or…

No. He's only a little farther ahead. I gotta keep going…

Her thoughts were jostled. Leah gripped her by the shoulder, concerned. "Don't force yourself. Lemme take you home and I'll look for him, okay?"

Patricia stared blankly at her companion, offer not fully registering. She slowly shook her head. "I'm fine," she lied, "really…"

The look on Leah's face showed she wasn't buying it. "Can't have you getting sick," was her response. "You're in no condition to run around in the rain."

"But-"

-a few more streets, that's all-

Alex couldn't have gotten that much farther ahead. He couldn't have…not at the frantic rate they'd been following. Patricia winced. Leah was with her, sure…but she still wanted to find him before anything happened-

-BANG!!-

-wha-!?

Her heart leapt. Color drained from her face.

-KFFFMM!!-

A gunshot…? What in God's name was that other sound…?

"GYAAAH!!"

…oh God…!

The sounds were close-just a street away. Patricia reflexively broke out of Leah's grasp, nearly stumbling onto her face as she scrambled forward. She barely heard the other's protests. She couldn't even explain the rush of fear that seized her.

Or could she…?

-can't be Alex, it can't be Alex-

Another shout…something about stopping. Must've been Leah again. Rapid footfalls followed. Probably trying to catch up or something-

A flicker. Patricia jerked to a halt.

-breathe, calm down-

The alley was dark, but not so much that she couldn't see within it. A dumpster and several garbage cans had been kicked over; the smell could've knocked out an elephant! Remaining out of sight, she squinted to get a better look…

…people…?

Sure enough, Patricia could faintly see human silhouettes towards the back of the side-street. Two more figures were sprawled out amidst the filth nearby-both teenage boys no older than herself. Neither one seemed to be moving…

…unconscious?

-tha-thump tha-thump tha-thump-

Calm down. Breathe. Don't panic.

Shadows were good.

…so was hiding.

Her heart wasn't slowing any. Patricia sucked in her breath; keeping out of sight wasn't doing anything to boost her courage. The two that remained in the alley…she could only see hints of their features, but it was enough. The smaller of the two was crumpled at the other's feet, out cold. Just a few feet away, partially buried in some wreckage, was the shiny barrel of the gun that had gone off earlier.

The second figure…

-overalls, leather jacket, boots, bandanna, distinctive blonde ponytail-

Alex…!

It was Alex, without a doubt. She could see him despite the absence of light; he was slightly hunched over, head hung, completely soaked by the rain. Despite his tired, ragged appearance, he seemed unharmed…

But…what was that trickling down the side of his face…?

…blood.

The gunshot…! How badly was he hit-!?

Strong hands abruptly gripped the girl by the shoulders-Leah had caught up. The action nearly made her leap out of her skin. "You crazy!?" the woman hissed. "How do you expect me to help you if you keep running off!?"

For the love of God! How CAN I think of my own safety? Alex'd been hurt…no telling how badly. Patricia jerked out of Leah's grasp again and scrambled into the alley, failing to notice the fretful expression on the woman's face…

…he'd have calmed down by now, right? Yeah…he probably blew off steam while he was here, that would explain all the battered thugs on the street. He always calmed down after that…

Another few steps. A pause.

"…Alex? …are you… …?"

The hulking shadow that was Alex didn't respond, even though his little sister was practically behind him-his eyes were distant, unfocused…as if he wasn't really there at all. …was he hurt…? Patricia took a timid step forward, reaching out to him…

His eyes snapped towards her.

She froze.

Fear was quick to catch up.

His gaze was locked onto her, recognition absent from his blue irises. That look…she'd seen it twice already-once just before Alex had left the hospital, then when he had stormed from the gym. That same enraged gleam she prayed she'd never have to face was suddenly targeted at her…

…like an animal…

Can't he see who I am…?

Patricia fearfully stumbled back, right into Leah. …she could feel herself trembling. Even with Leah's protective grasp upon her shoulders…she was shaking. Blood was still trickling down the side of Alex's face, most of it washing away with the rain. That cold stare…

Lost. Uncontrolled.

Confused.

…he turned away. AWAY. …and walked. The shadows swallowed him whole.

"-!? W-Wait! ALEX!"

Patricia forcefully tore herself away from Leah's grasp, desperate to catch her brother before he completely vanished into the darkness. No…not again. She couldn't lose him again-

Something snagged her foot.

"Ah-!!"

The world lurched violently. With a startled yelp, Patricia went tumbling, the street flying up to greet her. Concrete and sharp debris tore at her exposed knees, flooding them with pain as she skidded to a rough halt. Tears sprung to her eyes. It hurt…it really hurt, even though she had scraped her knees like this so many times before…

"Patricia!" Footfalls. "You okay!?"

A low, miserable whimper was heard from the disheveled heap on the ground. "Okay…? How can I be okay…?"

…walked away, walked AWAY…

"…Patricia, I…"

Don't say anything. You CAN'T say anything!

God, it hurt. It HURT. Whatever endurance she had left was stripped away as she broke down, her small form wracked with sobs. She was afraid of her own brother, afraid of the senseless, hateful look in his eyes. Was that all fighting did to people? Was that all Alex was capable of…?

"…c'mon, kid…I'll take you home."

A strong hand gripped Patricia's shoulder, the motion concerned. She couldn't protest. Her energies had been sapped and she felt more and more sick by the second. Leah was right-there wasn't any use in forcing herself further. She just wanted to go home…

…Alex…you fool… …you stupid fool…