Beautiful Thieves

Chapter 1: Late Nights

Three grams of pure heaven was rolled up into a ball that was wrapped in a little sandwich bag. It was fairly brown and grainy, definitely not the best quality, but it was some of his favorite treats. 

The shop that he bought it in was about the same quality as the rock. It was dingy with various items strew on the floor that even Amsterdam would find illegal, and it smelled of old socks and something else a bit more mysterious. With a quick look around Fallon swore he saw a rat the size of a poodle run atop one of the many exposed pipes. He knew he should probably have turned around and just forgotten the whole thing, but in reality he just didn't give a shit. 

"It'll be two-fifty lad," the old Irish guy, Curly, smiled. He was missing most of his teeth, and the ones that he still had left looked more like rotten corn than teeth. 

Fallon looked at the fat redhead and the shop a little too long. He was starting to have doubts. Did he really want the rock? Did he really trust this Irish guy? Was getting back at his guardians really worth it? For a split second his feelings came through and he thought "No", but then it was gone, and he was sure. 

"Pleasure doin' business with you man," He pocketed his new toy and left the shop. 

New York City was cold this time of night, and it was raining. It had been raining for two weeks straight now, with the occasional lightning storm. Fallon usually liked this kind of weather, but not this time. This time it was a sign. 

There had been talk amongst the Netherworlders that the Fellowship wanted to order a draft for Protectors. Of course since the Fellowship has to go through the Council there's a small chance that it won't happen. Unfortunately, the Council has been hoping for something like this for a while now, it would mean an increase in salary, so unless a miracle occurs, he was screwed. It's a feeling he's grown accustomed to. 

Fallon suddenly found himself becoming enraged. He was seventeen and had only two months until his birthday. If the draft was called he had to go. Even if he was seventeen he'd have to go. He was in his last year at school, so he'd have enough training to be eligible. Besides, he was failing most of his courses and had been threatened with expulsion seven times now, so of course he would immediately be enrolled in the Supernatural version of bootcamp. 

He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. He inhaled and inhaled until it was gone and then he lit another one. After that one was devoured he sighed in contentment. Human cigarettes were fairly weak on his body, but they were still a damn good stress reliever. 

Soon he was home. It was merely a small ramshackle apartment at the end of a dark alleyway, but Fallon preferred it to the cookie cutter dorms at the school. It was more inviting to him, mainly because it reflected his personality: worn down and abused. 

He walked down the narrow alley way, holding his breath. The smell was awful down here. He threw half of his leftover lunch to the homeless guy, Jimmy, as he passed by. He was a nice guy, even if he was crazy. Fallon often broke into the nearby hospital to get him his meds on account of Jimmy being a schizo. He might have been messed up in the head, but the two of them got along. They had nice conversations about politics and religion on Jimmy's good days.  

Fallon reached the kitchen window, and since the apartment complex was supposed to be run down and boarded up, and he technically was supposed to be in his dorm, he was forced to climb in through the window. It wasn't much of a problem though, because he was so slim. 

Once he made it through he rummaged around the loose floorboards until he found his stash of spoons and the syringe he stole when he swiped Jimmy's meds last month. He pulled out his little baggy, and put about half of the drug in the spoon. He fumbled for his lighter a bit, he was getting jittery from anticipation, but then he lit it and began to heat the spoon until everything was melted. After, he made sure there were no air bubbles in the needle, he didn't want to make that mistake again. After that everything became a little blurry. He didn't blast himself into oblivion, not like he hoped he would. He was still conscious enough to leave his little abode and make his way back to his dorm.