Shattered

This is how the world is supposed to work: you give and you take. Cause and Effect. Ordinary people operate within a certain set of parameters. Rules. Limits. Then there's blokes like me. We cheat. We trick the universe into handing us effects without the cause. Things we haven't earned. We can twist time and space, warp minds, create life. For people like me there are no rules. In a way, that's magic. And that is what makes people like me very, very, dangerous.

With a cigarette lodged between his teeth and sandy blond hair blowing in the breeze alongside a dark brown and undoubtedly stolen coat, the Stranger exited the bar. The smell of cheap alcohol and dirty women stuck to his throat. His face was unshaven, with strong, uneven bits of stubble lining his cheeks and his eyes were cold and unmoving, as they shone through the night in a piercing shade of blue.

A man with stunningly pink hair approached him, dressed in a grey hoodie with GAP printed across the chest. He was a large man, but it wasn't muscle that lined his body. The Stranger bit his teeth together as a chill entered the air. "Jurgens!" the fat man called out. The Stranger turned at the call of another alias of his. The man stopped to catch his breath, he'd been running after the Stranger. "Nikolas is looking for ya. 'e says you're getting suicidal. Says you stole something from 'im. Didja?" The stranger paused then muttered, "probably"

With that brief exchange, the pink-haired fat man left, at a slower pace than he had come. Arthur Jurgens was the name that the Stranger used now, although he had used many in the past, usually not his own, this was no exception. Arthur Jurgens had been a drugs dealer who posed as an antiques dealer. Then he died under mysterious circumstances. The cops in this city weren't worth spit and the investigation had ground to a halt in under 48 hours. Then the new Arthur Jurgens had emerged. It was raining. not heavily but enough to notice and to plaster the Stranger's hair to his forehead. Every step he took forwards gave off a quiet splash of an echo.

Men like me are dangerous to everybody, ourselves included. You cheat the system and it tries to compensate. Nobody really understands how or why, but it does. Life is costly. You take what you didn't earn, but you pay for it. You want to trust me on that. 'Course everything's changing these days. Seems like you can't throw a rock without hitting an alien. You think that's a good thing? well, you're free to believe what you like. The masks have their uses but somebody who knows what's really going on needs to make sure nobody goes too far with the cheat. That ain't me...

Arthur found himself approaching another bar, identified by the broken neon sign with 'The Hawk's Nest' lit up in burning purple letters except for the 'w' which was broken and remained a dull shade of unlit grey. He intended to walk on but a hand tapped his shoulder. Arthur spun around to find a fist thrust into his face knocking him down to the cold hard floor. His leg instinctively whipped around knocking his attacker to the floor also. The attacker was tall and muscular with a hairless head except for the thin brown beard around his mouth. He looked like a Russian hit-man. The Stranger hooked his arm around the man's neck pulling tight. The man struggled against the grip, he hadn't expected resistance, the Stranger seemed so skinny and like he would snap like a stick. Arthur's grip tightened further cutting off his air supply and breaking his windpipe.

"Take a message back to Nikolas for me..." The Stranger spat out with a voice that sounded weak and raspy. His hands snapped the hit-man's neck and he pushed himself to his feet straightening himself out. He walked away from the body which lay cold and motionless on the floor, as he placed another cigarette between his teeth. He was long gone by the time any of the drunken inmates of the bar found him outside their booze-filled castle.

The Stranger walked slowly, calmly and purposefully through the ever-thickening rain storm towards the small run-down apartment that served as his home and base of operations.

Trick the universe into handing us something we didn't earn. Make people see what we want them to see. Twist space and time. Take it too far and very bad things happen. The sacrifices get costly. That's a lesson I haven't learnt yet, a lesson I will learn in time. You take what you didn't earn but you pay for it. You always pay for it...

The petite girl was running through the rain, her breathing exhilarated and heart pumping. There was only one thought in her head and that was to get home. Home to her cruddy apartment and cruddy room mate and cruddy rent. Mal had spent far longer then she intended to at the crummy bars of England. She absolutely hated being out at this time of night. She was stupid for not leaving sooner. Bad things always happened to her. The real creeps were lurking about the shadow waiting to pounce on vulnerable girls such as herself.

Yeah, vulnerable. How vulnerable could she really be if she can make people think what she wanted with a touch of her hand? In all honesty, Mal wanted to avoid a situation like that. She hated all of it, everything that had been thrown at her ever since the encounter with the meteor. The meteor that never existed according to records, or the lack thereof. The thought still gave her chills.

Mal sighed with relief when the apartment came into view. She slowed to a skidding stop and threw her hands in front of her so she wouldn't go crashing into the building. Now, just find the keys and get inside...

The poor girl was shivering, to a passerby it would merely appear like the rain was getting to her, chilling the woman to the bone. Well, that was a contributer. But the main reason her skin quivered and crawled was because she got that odd feeling. That feeling she became aware of every time something out of the ordinary wove its way into Mal's mundane life. The Doctor made her accustomed to looking to for the said feeling.

Speaking of which, Mal realized it had been three months since she encountered any of her 'friends', the Doctor included. More often then not were they representations of bad omens. Usually they ended up dragging Mal kicking and screaming into whatever trouble they found themselves in. In a way, these three months had been a break. In another a bore. She missed the trouble and danger. Being safe was, surprisingly, boring to this paranoid and anxiety ridden girl.

Mal kept digging and digging in her pocket, looking for her key and finally realizing, much to her despair, she left them sitting on her kitchen counter. A look of horror slapped itself on her face as she stared at the door longingly, willing it to just open magically for her. Well, that didn't happen. What did happen, however, caused Mal to scream loud enough to shatter glass, which would have conveniently allow her to step through the apartment door if it actually happened.

A man had come up behind Mal when her back was turned. How stupid of her for not paying closer attention. He said nothing as he snagged her arm with one hand and promptly clamped his other over her mouth and nose. The intention was to knock the girl out and remove her off the streets. Where he would take her, that was for him to know.

Mal struggled as best she could, cursing her weak frame. She was no match for this man physically. She didn't want to touch the man but she did want to scream at him to leave her alone, to get out of here and never come back. This would be possible if she just found on opening. Unfortunately, this was not a task she could complete. The brute of a man was wearing leather gloves, his face hidden behind a ski mask, he left nothing for her. His body was completely covered. Fear pierced Mal like an arrow. Either this guy was planning on killing her or he knew her little secret. Or worse, maybe it was a bit of both.

A small, barely audible sound reached the Stranger's ears. He turned and saw a girl. She looked barely old enough to be out alone. A large man with his face hidden had her in his grip. Such attacks were commonplace in this part of London and usually he turned a blind eye. This was different. An attack right outside his home, this was provocation enough. A fair number of people had heard of Arthur Jurgens in the last few months and those that had knew to keep out of his way. This was his territory and he would be damned before he let a common thug defy his authority.

Arthur dropped his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out on the wet ground. The rain had grown intolerable now, and with it had come a shroud of darkness that meant pale blue illumination in the pathetic excuse for streetlights was the only lighting available. He took a step towards the attacker with his 'borrowed' coat billowing behind him in the strong wind.

"Oi, mate!" he called out. His thick Irish accent was more noticable from this than his earlier croaky comments. "You think you can barge in on my turf?" he took another slow step towards him. "Let her go and get out of here. I'll forget this mistake ever happened. It's a good deal, mate..." The man showed no signs of moving. Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Last warning..." He didn't wait for a response and instead jabbed an outstretched hand into his face, his fingers prodding through the eyeholes hopefully causing him to at least loosen his grip...

The man, who had previously ignored the man's threats, now yelped as his eyes were poked painfully. He closed them instinctively and they watered up though that didn't much matter in the rain. He was blinded and no matter how many times he blinked he couldn't regain his vision. His grip did loosen and in his defenceless state he broke away from Mal and backed away, busying his hands with rubbing his soar eyes.

Mal coughing and stumbled away from her attacker the very second she could. Her vision swam with white blotches as she leaned against the apartment and took in heaving breaths. Breathe, breathe, you'll pass out if you don't just breathe. Don't panic, don't freak out, you can do that crap alter... She thought her heart was going to leap out of her chest and call it a day, thoroughly done with the lack of oxygen and tonight's horrible fright. Mal shot a quick glance over to the man who had saved her. She quickly took in his figure, the way he looked, as best she could in the bleary rain and poor lighting. Mal remained silent and her attention went back to her attacker when she spotted movement at the corner of her eye.

After regaining his vision, the masked man swore profusely at Arthur. "Stay out of business that ain't yours, mate." He spat at the other man's feet before lurching forward, fists swinging. This bugger interrupted him just as things were being finished up. That called for some punishment.

(Just gonna slip in here...)

Sonya let out a soft breath of relief, examining Mal from where she hid in the alleyway. The urge to step out and talk to her was nearly overwhelming, causing her to grit her teeth in fruatration. She made herself a promice just a month or so back, she wouldn't interfere with her friend's lives anymore unless it was absolutely nessicary. Realizing suddenly her clothing was soaked through, not to mention the streetlamp was most likely shining on her glasses as well. She shifted back, teying to blend into the dark only to back straight up into a bin, sending it clattering to thw ground. "Crap."

Arthur Jurgens ignored the sound of cluttering bins to his left as he was otherwise occupied by the crack as the man's fist hit his face right against his cheekbone. He stumbled backwards, gripping the wall to regain his balance. "Alright then sucker..." he muttered, keeping his language PG for the girl's benefit.

Arthur pushed the attacker away from him and took a moment to straighten his coat and catch his breath. Then he reached into his inside pocket and produced a small pen knife. "Come at me..." he muttered. The man roared and charged grabbing Arthur's armed hand and pinning it to the wall. His roar was interrupted as Arthur's knee met his groin causing him to call out in pain. "All that preparation and you didn't think to wear a box..." Arthur's leg kicked hard into the man's bent over chest knocking him dramatically into the air and down to the ground.

The attacker was silent now and soaked from the rough pitter patter of the rainfall. Arthur knelt down by him, grabbing his throat and squeezing. "I ought to gut you like the rodent you are..." he muttered, bringing the knife to his throat, "but that ain't my call to make..." He grabbed the man's collar and pulled him to his feet and shoving him against the wall.

"Girl!" he called out, "It's your decision. Does he live or die?" he called, his accent stronger as he got louder.

Mal jumped a few feet into the air, startled out of her skin from the clatter of bins. Oh dear lord, what if it was more of them? More creepy men with no skin revealed and the intention of suffocating her to death. Well if they didn't come out and make their move shortly Mal would suffocate herself, her nerves were getting the better of her again. The paranoid thoughts jabbed at her and mocked her, warning her to keep away from the bin disturber.

Oh man, this scrap was only feeding to her anxiety. The two men were at each other until her rescuer got the brute right where it hurt. Mal was convinced she was about to witness a murder until the blond fellow asked her a shocking question.

"Wh-what?" She squeaked at a higher frequency than normal. "Uh, n-no, don't kill him!" Of course Mal would say no to that. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she sentenced a person to their death. The man was right, it wasn't for him to decide who lived and who died. Nor was it hers. Nobody should have that right. The guilt would definitely eat her inside out if her attackers death lounged in the forefront of her mind.

"Lucky sod." he whispered into the attacker's ear. Arthur pushed him away and glared at him. "Scram." he said gently and the man took the hint, scrambling away. Arthur smirked then he stood absolutely still and silent for a few moments, thoughts flying through his head as he analysed the situation. After an awkward couple of moments he spun around, with a bounce in his step and grinned at the girl. "Bins." he said as if it was the answer to every question she could possibly have. Then he ran over to where the sound earlier had come from...

Sonya's eyes widened as the man darted towards her and frantically looked for an escape. If she could just climb on top of the dumpster over there, she could reach the bottom rung of that escape latter... Casting a quick look at the man, she let out a heavy sigh, knowing full well with her height, she would end up having to jump up to get the rung, then knowing her luck, she'd miss and end up falling on him anyway. "Oi! Oi! I don't want to cause trouble!" She said quickly, holding her hands up to show she had nothing in them. "I was just taking a stroll and happened to spot you beating the crap out of someone, what do you want me to do? Run in and try to stop you? No thank you, sir, I do believe I like this face." She said idly, slowly lowering her hands down and shoving them into her pockets. "Look, I was just making sure Mal was alright, yeah? She's a friend I haven't seen in a while and I just wanted to be sure you could take care of the guy."

Sonya's eyes flicked over the man's shoulder quickly, spotting the dark figure she knew was Mal and hesitantly raised a hand in a slight wave. Well so much for staying out of their lives. Now your going to muck hers up even more, good going, Sonya. She grumbled to herself, forcing a slight smile on her face as her eyes returned to the man in front of her. "But now I see she's fine, short of you threatening to kill someone in front of her, I do beleive I shall be going on my way. Thanks for the chat, and... Yeah, just bye now." She added awkwardly, turning around and staring at the dead end of the alleyway just a few feet ahead of her and let out a light sigh. So much for a quick exit too.

Arthur paused. She looked familiar. Too familiar. He wouldn't usually let someone walk in and out of his area without some form of investigation but he could see he was hardly going to be able to stop her without force and she didn't deserve that. Not yet anyway. Did he know her? Something nagged in his memory. He sniggered as he saw her walk into the dead end. "Cigarette?" he offered. "Name?" he then added as more of an order. He kept it short and snappy for now.

Sonya blinked at him wairly for a moment then eyed the cigarettes he held out and took one. "Thanks..." Keeping her eyes on him, she pulled a lighter from her pocket and lit it, holding the flame to the end of the cigarette held in her lips. "My name hardly matters, considering I don't plan on staying long." She added idly, an eyebrow raising up as she blew a cloud of smoke out. "Besides, common curtsey dictates you offer your name first, then ask for the others name. Isn't that how it goes?" Sonya's lips curled up into a slight smile, her head tilting to the side as she studied him.

He looked faintly familiar to him, but she couldn't quite place who he was at all. A bit hard to considering how much she had gone through in the past few years anyway. "But if you must know, my name is Sonya. I don't tend to stay in any place too long to be known, so you wouldn't know me anyway."

"Sonya." he repeated lulling the name over on his tongue then shrugged with a grin. "I'm not good with names," he admitted, "I'll go with Arthur for now." He extended his hand in a gesture of friendship. His face was suprisingly warm considering the usual coldness that filled it and the ever persistent rain that drowned out all attempts at optimism. "I love London..." he announced to no-one in particular.

Sonya placed her hand in his lightly, shaking it quickly before letting go again. "London is rather pretty, yeah... No matter how far I go or how long I've been away, I always end up here one day or another." She commented dryly, her eyes flicking from his face and up to the sky above, scowling slightly at the clouds overhead. "Though I could do without the rain. Never did like being wet and cold." Returning her attention to Arthur, she smiled once again, taking a drag from the cigarette she held in her hand still before dropping it into a puddle next to her. "Right then, we know each others names, we agree on something and shared cigarettes from the same pack. What now?"

"Sonya! That was you, the bins I mean. Bloody well gave me a heart attack, jerk. Glad to know you didn't sick that mutt on me, though. I would have to say that would be an awkward strain on our friendship." Mal had followed her rescuer reluctantly over to the bins, scared to be left alone by the door she couldn't unlock. She figured if anything wanted to pop out of the alley and cause trouble the blond haired macho man would protect her. As scary as he was, she sort of owed him now, didn't she.

"Mal, by the way." Her voice was louder as she wove her way in between the two who acted like familiar strangers. Odd, she wasn't stuttering or choking on words like the nervous wreck she was. The small girl grinned at Sonya before slyly turning to the man with a raised eyebrow. "Looks like I'm in your debt, Arthur... Anyway, where've you been Sonya? It's been bloody months! You know, the first time I met you I would have been relieved not to see your face again. But I say we've been through too many life and death situations for that to be true today. Oh, is that rude? Eh, crap, I'm becoming rude. Sorry..." Finally her voice faded out into nothing. An awkward tone settled into her body as she took several steps back, away from both of them. Yikes, what a night.

"Uhm, i-if it's not too much trouble.. I forgot my keys. Mind letting me in? My roomy would ring my neck if I woke her from her slumber. She calls it beauty rest, I call it forboding dormancy. You probably don't care about that..." Jeez, she was babbling on and making herself look like a fool.

The Stranger paused. He had that thinking look in his eyes again as he seemed to freeze in time. He clicked his fingers after a second's pause. Then he pushed them down into his coat's pocket and produced a key with a grin etched across his face. The warmth in his face from just a few moments ago was starting to fade but he wasn't threatening or imposing. In fact he seemed just peculiar now. "Actually I found the babbling quite interesting," he said, his voice quiet and raspy once again.

The key inserted into the lock and turned forcefully after a few tugs from Arthur. The door clicked open and Arthur resisted the urge to kick it as it creaked open at a tantalisingly slow pace. "How long have you lived here?" he asked with a suspicious tone entering his voice. He wasn't grinning any more but he seemed relieved to be out of the rain finally. "Who was that man? Why did he attack you?" he spoke out his questions like a steam train passing through a station it was supposed to stop at.

Then he paused and added, "Drink?" to both of the women gesturing towards the stairs, presumably indicating his apartment.

Sonya blinked slightly then glanced over at Mal with a slight shrug. She was about to offer her the sonic she kept in her pocket at all times. But apparently Arthur had a key already. Shifting on her feet nervously, she eyed the door for a moment then nodded her approval. Metal locks, always good for a quick getaway, and if need be, she could take Mal with her as well. Stepping forward, she motioned with her head for Mal to go first. "I don't mind a drink. A little bit could go a long way on a cold, wet night like this." She said idly, her hands shoved into her jacket as she shook her short hair, splattering rain all around her when she did. "Lead the way."

"I-interesting?" Mal repeated dumbly, looking up at Arthur with large eyes. He found her babbling interesting? She doubted that but she supposed he was just trying to be nice. She was staring as he jimmied the lock, waiting impatiently to get inside and out of the rain. As soon as the door was opened she pounced inside and shook off.

The questions tossed Mal around mentally like a rag doll. Jeez, she should have guessed this tough guy would bring out the large guns. "Uh, d-do you mean in London or this specific apartment? I've been in London for, uhm, eight months. This apartment for seven months. As for that man... I-I don't know. A psycho of some sort, obviously. I have no idea why he attacked me. Necrophiliac? That's always a possibility. Honestly, if he would have just asked I could have taken him to a graveyard. I know a few people who wouldn't mind having their bodies defiled. Probably welcome it, the sick bastards." Though her voice was anxious and rushed there was an undertone of black humour.

The Stranger nodded. "Okay." he said simply, to who it was addressed was unclear. He took the stairs two at a time as he lead upstairs to his apartment. It didn't seem too strange to him that he hadn't seen her come and go in all the time he'd been here because he didn't spend much time in the apartments if he could avoid it. Besides he'd only been here 3 months himself.

The attack had probably been a common assault or rape attempt, it wasn't unusual in these parts. He reached the door and jiggled the key in the lock until it clicked. He pushed the door but it didn't budge; the damn thing was stuck. He sighed and raised his leg kicking the door open forcefully. There was a loud crack as it swung open and Arthur smirked.

The apartment was small with two bedrooms despite only one inhabitant, a kitchen filled mostly with booze and cheap junk food and a living room consisting solely of two chairs, a sofa, a table and a television. It was compact and well-ordered, but lacked a homely feel to it. "Scotch? Brandy?" he call out then added after a pause, "Coffee?" He wasn't sure if he had any but he felt he ought to offer something non-alcoholic.

His eyes scanned the room and found nothing out of place. His shoulders slumped and he shrugged off his coat, chucking it to the side. It landed softly on the arm of the couch. Now, his eyes looked over his guests. Mal, there was something off about her. She was hiding something, he was sure of it, but what? Then there was the mysterious Sonya, she'd appeared out of nowhere. He hadn't seen her enter the alley and, as she had found out, the other way was a dead end. Plus, he had a feeling of deja vu every-time he looked at her, like he should know her.

He tapped his foot patiently on the wooden floorboards to a 4-beat rhythm as he waited for there response. His hand tapped along on the kitchen table as well. A fast-paced 1,2,3,4, almost like drums.

Sonya stepped into the apartment, glancing around with a slightly appreciative look on her face. "So this is what a flat should look like. Most of mine have a table, a bed and a chair in them." She said wryly, casting a glance over at Arthur, her eyes locking onto his hand as he tapped out a beat. For a moment, she seemed about to say something, then she shook her head and made her way towards the chair. "I'll take a scotch if you don't mind. Something to warm me up a bit, yeah?" She called to him, a smile on her face, but a troubled look in her eyes.

Glancing around the room curiously, she studied the man's apartment. Nothing in here to make it personal. Nothing here to show what kind of man he was. Frowning slightly, she looked over at him again out of the corner of her eyes. He was beginning to act like someone she knew, but she refused to allow herself to think he was. It was too odd, too strange, something that just wouldn't click with her.

"Brandy," He repeated in his weaker, softer voice. He passed her a glass and looked at Mal, waiting for an answer. His hand continued to tap although his foot had stopped. Without the coat, he seemed to have lost some of his imposingness, he seemed thinner, less intimidating, almost fragile. The Stranger himself took a whiskey. A memory triggered as he looked at Sonya. It wasn't big but he was certain he knew her, he just didn't know from where.

Mal stared at his hand for a while. Was that a nervous habit? She knew she tapped on things when she was nervous or guilty of something. Oh, he had asked her a question, she should probably answer. "I don't drink. Er, I-I mean, a coffee, please." OK, the fact she didn't drink was sort of a lie. If she would have said that to him a few years ago, it would have been a real lie.

The small girl turned around and paced through the apartment. Her hand came up to gentle touch her sore skin where that man had groped tightly. It was bruising, how fantastic. Mal then proceeded to rub her arm up and down in that nervous way she always did. Her eyes were shifting around the apartment, she even jumped slightly when a shadow moved. Jeez, keep it together, girl. Stop looking like you're guilty of something.. You didn't do a damn thing, now stop and look sociable.

Mal suddenly snapped into a straightened posture and spun on her heels to face Arthur and Sonya, "So, uh...." She rattled her brain desperately to try and come up with some conversation. But that didn't work she instantly dropped her head to stare at the floor in awkward embarrassment. Her face even tinged red and she hoped either the other two wouldn't notice or just wouldn't say anything about it.

Sonya eyed Mal over the rim of her glass before nodding at the spot she poked at with a wince. "How bad is it?" She murmured quietly, setting it aside and getting to her feet to walk over and inspect the wound. "Come on, stop being so shy and show me the bruise, Mal. Did you think I wouldn't notice you wincing?" She added with a sharper tone of voice, her eyebrow arched up slightly.

Before Mal could react, Sonya reached out and gently hovered her hand over the wound and focused on it, sending several tendrils of golden energy out, healing the bruise completely. "Anywhere else? And don't lie either, I know when someone lies to me." Shifting on her feet slightly, she fought off a weak wave of dizziness and refocused her eyes on the girl sternly, her arms folded over her chest. "I'm not moving until you prove to me you don't have anymore."

Arthur searched desperately through his kitchen cupboards for coffee. Those with alcohol in were littered with broken glass and empty bottles whereas those without seemed practically untouched. His attention was drawn away by Sonya's healing ability. "Nice little trick you'be got there..." He commented then resumed his search. He seemed genuinely surprised when he did locate the coffee and got to work making it. Out of the corner of his eye he continued to watch them though.

"I-it's not that bad. I'm fine." Mal rubbed her arm a little more frantically before letting her arms fall limply to the side. She was still staring at the floor before she rallied up the courage to look Sonya in the face. She blinked in surprise to find her face was no longer soar. Well, that felt a lot better.

"Eh, no, my face was the only place. Thanks" That was a minor lie. Her attacker also has a tight grip on her upper arm. But the small girl had so many scratches and bruises from going about her everyday life that it was hardly anything new to have discoloured splotches on her skin. Mal looked at Sonya with a raised eyebrow before she started poking around her own body. "See? Nothing. I'm- ow!" That was convincing, good job, Mal.

He passed her a warm mug of coffee with a small subtle smile. "Sit down." He instructed. "After an attack like that, there's a risk of your body going into shock. It's important you don't exert energy and you stay warm. He handed over a green blanket with elephants in the corners. "It was the only one I could find," he muttered with a hint of embarrassment. "Is there anything else you need?" His voice was tinged with what seemed like genuine concern.