Regrets

Chapter 5 - D Is For Dangerous

Song: D Is For Dangerous - Arctic Monkeys

"Hey boy. So that's how we meet again", Marcus laughed hoarsely as he sunk down besides the shadow of a human, cuddled up against a dark corner below the vent through which warm air was blowing.

With an almost dreadfully uninterested look on his face, the boy looked over to Marcus; his face was dirty and a few scratches were scattered here and there.

"I guess so", he simply nodded, his face showing no sign of surprise.

"What are you doing here, Tommy? Shouldn't you be at home, drinking a hot chocolate in this cold weather?", Marcus asked, his clammy hands reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his leather jacket's pocket.

"I'd rather stay here, thanks. And it's Thomas, not Tommy", the small boy growled, though he didn't seem all to adamant about it.

"Why's that? Do they hit you at home?", Marcus asked jokingly. He didn't look at Thomas; rather, he just concentrated on lighting his cigarette to find some relief in the freezing cold that surrounded them.

"No... I just don't like it there", Thomas drawled the words out. Of course Marcus was curious but he knew better than to pry into other people's business.

"So if this is the better choice, why do you look so miserable?", Marcus asked casually, taking a drag from his cigarette, inhaling the tobacco.

"I'm hungry. The people here scare me but I can't afford sleeping in the trams each night and the other stations have night watchmen", Thomas muttered. It was clear how uncomfortable he was just talking to Marcus, so it was obvious how hard it must be for him to stand up for himself.

Marcus looked at the boy who was staring straight ahead. He felt like it was somehow his responsibility to get the boy back on his feet. Maybe this was because he could somewhat relate to the boy? After all, this was probably how he would have lived his life if James hadn't picked him off of the ground.

"Ha, even in your death, you still berate me", Marcus snickered quietly to himself before he patted the boy on the head and stood up straight, throwing his halfway smoked cigarette to the ground before stomping on it to put it out.

"Come on boy, I'll buy you something to eat. Can't leave you here to starve. My friend would throw me in a meat grinder if he found that out", the tall male grumbled before grabbing Thomas by his upper left arm and pulling him up to his feet harshly. Friendliness was never one of Marcus' strong suits in any case.

Without further questions, Thomas decided to follow Marcus as he led the both of them to the closest hotdog stand.
The disgusting hotdogs in this part of town where dirt cheap and they tasted like that as well, but they filled a stomach well enough.

With cold fingers, Marcus took the hot goods from the seller, who didn't look all too happy to be serving them. Maybe that was because they were such an odd pairing - a white child, certainly not over the age of 15, and a black dude with the most indifferent look possible stamped on his face - but most likely, it was just because of the general hatred spread like a thick film of butter across this area.

As Marcus watched the boy stuff his face, Marcus was astonished how much the kid reminded him of James. It wasn't the looks, because the two couldn't be any more different looking from each other, but it was the way he behaved. How he ate like a starved football team, how he didn't like nicknames-
Well, those were actually the only things he had in common with James but Marcus didn't know the boy well enough to make such a comment anyway.

"Your friend, did you really buy me food because he wanted you to? Or were you the one who felt sorry for me?", Thomas asked with a full mouth as he shoved in the last bit of hotdog. His fingers were full of ketchup and mustard, and so was his face. In all honesty, it looked like someone had slam dunked his face into a plate of sauce.

"Who knows. Maybe both. But he would've definitely punched me if he found out I left a kid to starve", Marcus replied. Yeah, James would punch him for things like kicking stray dogs. He would've absolutely punched him for something like that.

"Can I meet him? He sounds nice", the kid continued to pry, as if he was entitled to meet the mysterious friend, as if he was entitled to know more about Marcus' life. No no no, that wouldn't fly with Marcus.

"You won't", Marcus dead panned, cutting off the conversation for good.

Their walk continued for a few minutes, away from all the noise and lights of Pinwayes station, before Thomas attempted to start up the talking again.
"What's your name?"

"Why does it concern you?", Marcus countered. He was slightly fed up by the boy's constant questions. How hard was it to just accept the gift of a stranger and leave him be?

"It doesn't. Sorry, mom always said I'm too nosy", the kid looked down at his shoe tips as he stopped walking, and so did Marcus as he turned back to look at the boy. Even though he couldn't see it, Marcus was sure Thomas was making a sad face.

With a sigh he beganwalking again, back towards the station. As he passed Thomas, he patted theboy's shoulder lightly.
"She's right. You should go home kid"