Knight Fall { MoonKnight AU x Y/N}

7. A Glimpse Into The Past

Chapter Soundtrack:
Gilded Lily - Cults
Hier Encore - Charles Aznavour
Love Me, Please Love Me - Michel Polnareff
Capri c'est fini - Hervè Vilard

Trigger Warning : drug use, blood, and violence. There is going to be heavy talk of drug use  in the first few paragraphs in the flashbacks, so please skip to Five years later, if you feel triggered. Use caution.

Paris, France
Andrews's POV

The back alley streets of Paris were not the safest for tourists. Homelessness was prevalent and they were drawn out all around. Hopeless and desperate people were huddled together to stay out of the fresh snow that was falling around the dark streets as Andrew stumbled down the long path he started to remember in his drunken haze. He pulled his long trench coat tight around his neck as he crunched the snow. He knew of a bench under a bridge, by a bread shop where he could get high and smell the bread back for the next morning and drift off into ecstasy. He bit into lip anxiously waiting for it. He needed it. It had been too long.

He saw the bench and made a dash towards it. He fell against the seat. He sighed heavily, reaching into the pocket inside. A small tin can that held his small favorites. Smiling over his box, he traced the lining slowly in the dark. His gloved fingers shivered as he ran them gently across the seamed opening. Andrew cracked, the lid harshly exposing the contraband. He shrugged up his long black sleeve. He took out the needle, the rubber band, and the liquid he had scored from someone named Françoise about an hour ago. This was it. This was his out. This uncut, pure, beautiful, score. He would just need to inject himself once and he was done. Whatever this was. He pulled the liquid into the needle and tied his arm off, and found his vein. It was easy. He had done it more than two dozen times before.

The street light flickered over his head. He breathed the cold night air in. Andrew let his head fall back. He threw the needle in the garbage beside him. Even as he felt his high begin he was still a considerate junkie. He wasn't going to die with a needle in his arm. He pulled his jacket down and tucked in his hands in his pockets. His long black curls fell down behind his head. He stared at the sky. Small white specks of snow fell around his eyes. The bread smell he craved floated all around him.

"What a way to die." He laughed out loud. Closing his eyes he slowly felt the world fade from view. "Goodbye fucked world." Darkness began to swallow his vision.

"Hello Andrew. Surely life cannot be this bad. Can it?" A deep voice rang out, breaking Andrew out of his hazy trance. "Or maybe you want this all the time." He lifted his head, and he saw a strange silhouette. A hazy figure came into view before him. A large man with a cane stood in front of him. "Andrew, how would you like to feel this way every day? And never have to worry about where the next fix would come from. What if I could tell you, I could save you, and you could work for me, let me use your body, and you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again."

Andrew gazed up at the shadowed man in his half conscious state of being. He could barely make out his face. No. A small beak, with beady little eyes, that stared into his soul. Andrew felt the rush of the drug he had just taken travel to his heart. In the next few moments, he wouldn't care about anything. "Look man, don't worry about me, you can do whatever with me in about five minutes. I don't mind." Andrew felt his head roll back and felt a whoosh.

He slowly fluttered his eyes open and found himself surrounded by a lush bed with tall windows. He sat up, and kicked his long legs out of the bed, his toes plunged into the thick carpet. The table sat fresh baked croissants and small espressos with steam curling into the cold air. He gripped the high back of the chair, as he grappled at his heart. He was sure he took his last breath. The sun was rising over the city. The city he loved. Paris.