Second Chance

Their voices were the first thing that I became aware of. I knew them both from somewhere, but it took me a few moments before I was awake enough to remember from where. I forced my eyes open slowly, giving myself time to adjust to the bright lights all around me before I even attempted to turn and look in their direction.

They were over by the door to the hospital room that I was now lying in. My eyes lingered first on the man from the alley; I could only see the back of him, but it was enough for me to know that it was him. His dark hair was a mess, a fact that was not helped by him constantly running a hand through it. It took me a second to understand why he looked somewhat different to how he had when I'd seen him before. His jacket was missing, so that his muscular, tattooed arms were visible. Looking down at myself revealed the current whereabouts of said jacket. Not only had he managed to get me to a hospital, but he was also keeping me warm. I couldn't help the small smile that crossed my lips.

The second occupant wasn't one that I was so glad to see. She was one of the first people that I had seen that day (or rather, yesterday) and seeing her again now was nothing but a painful reminder of why. She seemed innocent enough - late fourties, gentle perm, kind eyes. But no matter how friendly she might be, I would never see her as anything more than the doctor on-scene when my best friend was brought, dying, into her hospital.

She was the first of the pair to notice that I was awake.

"Nice of you to join us again, miss."

I forced a smile her way, but it didn't remain that way for long. The man turned around, and our eyes met again. I sent a genuine smile his way, wondering how I was ever going to thank him for everything he had done for me. He abandoned his position by the door and came to my side; much to my dismay, the doctor followed him.

"How're you feeling?" he asked, taking a seat by my feet. "You're looking better. Sort of..."

"I'm okay."

Truth be told, I was aching all over. From my head to the very tips of my toes. Knowing this reminded me of what had been happening. I brought a hand up to my face, tenderly brushing against where I knew there must be a bruise. The pain I felt confirmed this.

"Did your father give you that one, too?"

I was surprised at how fierce he suddenly sounded. I was used to people sounding sympathetic or even spiteful, but fierce? That was a new one for me. I gave a small nod. He sighed and ran a hand through that mess of hair again, looking almost as worn out as I felt.

"If I could've gone after him..."

"Why didn't you?" I asked, curiousity getting the better of me.

He gave me a look that clearly indicated he thought the answer was obvious. Barely a foot behind him, the doctor (whose name I neither could nor wanted to recall) wore the same expression on her perfectly made-up face. I glanced between the pair of them, wondering what I could have missed.

"I couldn't leave you alone in that alley. Especially in the state you were in."

The doctor decided that this was a good time for our conversation to end; she stepped forward and informed me that she was going to check me over to make sure that I wasn't in any immediate danger of dropping dead. I kept my mouth firmly shut as she went about shining her light in my eyes, checking my ribcage for signs of breakage, testing my limbs to make sure everything was still in working order. I felt like a science experiment by the end of it all. Fortunately, there was no bad news.

"Give it a week and everything should be cleared up." She scribbled something down on a clipboard on the cabinet beside me. "Take Panadol for the pain. But if it gets to be too unbearable, make sure you come straight back here."

"Sure thing. So can I go now?"

"Only if you've got somebody to come and pick you up. I can't let you walk out of here on your own."

I was about to argue this point with her when my saviour spoke up.

"I've got her covered."

I expected her to protest - she looked like she very much would have liked to - and was surprised when she held her tongue and gave a polite nod of dismissal to the pair of us.

"Aren't there...papers and crap I have to fill out?"

Despite the amount of injuries I had sustained in life, hospitals were most definitely not my area of expertise.

"Already taken care of," I was informed by my saviour as he gently helped me up. "I had to do something while I was waiting for you to wake up, didn't I?"

I couldn't see the logic in this, but I didn't tell him this. Instead, I let him lead me through the hospital in search of the exit. He waved at a few people as we passed by, earning a few giggles from girls and people frantically waving back. It made me wonder whether my earlier thoughts of him being from out of town were correct or not.

The one great thing about living in the centre of a busy city was that there were always taxis everywhere. And at this hour of the night (or rather, morning) they were easy to get ahold of. He had one hailed in a matter of seconds after we left the overly-sanitised building; we both climbed into it wordlessly.

"Where to, mate?"

Green eyes turned on me. Was I expected to have a plan so quickly? I raced through my options in a split second before telling the cab driver where I lived. What did it matter if this random knew where I supposedly lived? If he had any intention of killing me, he was going to do it.

"Is that your home address?" I nodded, glancing to the man beside me. He tried to make his next words sound casual, though he failed miserably. "Is your father going to be home?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I'm hoping not. I just want to grab some clothes and get the hell out of there. For good this time."

"And where are you going to stay?"

"My friend's place," I said without hesitation. "Her parents have always been good to me."

He nodded his approval right as we parked outside my house; I glanced out at it, vaguely aware of the cab driver behind me being asked to wait while we went inside. We. He was coming in with me. This should have calmed me, but all I could think about was what would happen if my father was present when we entered.

The pair of us climbed out of the taxi and crossed the lawn in silence; I followed the cobbled path up to the front door, hesitating before I slowly reached for the handle and pushed it open. The fact that it was unlocked meant nothing to me - it wasn't like my father had stopped to secure the place before he had chased after me.

I half ran down the hall to my room, grabbing my schoolbag from the floor in record speed. I up-ended it and poured the contents out onto the floor to make room for more important things. I started shoving in clothes for the most part, followed by underwear and my hair brush. My iPod was the only other thing that I felt I needed to take, so that was the last thing to be stuffed inside.

"Important paperwork?" my saviour supplied helpfully from the doorway. He had his back to me, watching the hallway for signs of danger. "Grab it all now so you won't have to come back here again."

"Right. It's through here."

I slipped past him and went into the living room, giving the room a once over to make sure it was empty of all life before I bolted over to the old, black filing cabinet kept in the corner. I yanked the top draw open and leafed through the manilla folders until I found the one that had my name on it. I didn't know what half of the contents were, just that they were things I was supposed to need "later in life". I stuck it neatly into the back of my bag.

"Alright. I'm done."

We went back outside. I didn't bother giving the house a second glance, a goodbye. I had done that many times before, only to be dragged right back to it by some form of authority. With any luck, that would not be happening again.

Back in the taxi, I gave another address that I wasn't exactly thrilled to be going back to. Granted, the residence wouldn't be occupied by abusive adults, but it wouldn't be occupied by my best friend, either.

"Is this the place?"

I looked out at it, nodding again. Living just a few minutes away from this place had always been a good thing. Once again I heard the taxi driver being asked to wait. He grunted in response, but didn't argue as we both climbed out of the car for a second time.

Standing on the footpath, I looked up at the man who'd just saved my life. Probably countless times in just a few hours. I knew I had to thank him, but a simple "thank you" didn't seem nearly enough. He stared right back at me, and I found myself wondering what he was thinking. It was then I realised I was still wearing his jacket. I put my bag down on the ground and slipped the black leather off of myself.

"Here."

He shook his head, holding his hands up to stop my motion.

"You keep it," he insisted. "I have others."

"...thank you," I tried again. "For everything. I think he would actually have killed me if you hadn't shown up. I seriously owe you."

"Just happy I was able to help. You damn near gave me a heart attack, kid."

"I'm sorry..."

I stepped forward and hugged him, wrapping my arms right around his middle. He chuckled lightly and returned the favour, surrounding me in warmth. It would have been nice to stay this way forever, but I quickly let him go. I didn't want to seem like any more of a freak than he already thought I was.

"Give me your hand," he said once I'd let him go. Confused, I did just that, watching as he pulled a marker from the back pocket of his jeans and scribbled a phone number onto my arm. An American number. "It's my cell number. Write it down when you get inside. You need me, you call me. Alright?"

"I will."

He smiled and slung an arm around my shoulders; I allowed him to lead me up to the front door of the house, then watched on as he rung the doorbell. Several moments passed, with no answer.

"I guess they're asleep," he mumbled, then knocked.

I separated myself from him, choosing to slip around the side of the house to the garage. A quick glance in through the side window showed me that the car space was empty.

"They're not home," I corrected him, my heart falling. "Their car isn't here."

I felt a surge of panic. What the hell was I supposed to do now? I hadn't thought ahead to what would happen if Stacey's parents weren't home. Now I was faced with the fact, and I was drawing up a blank.

"Do you have any other friends you can stay with? Other family? Your mother?"

"My mother's dead," I replied bluntly. "My father's the only family I have, and the only friend I had lives here."

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"No. But it shouldn't be too long. I'll just wait out here until they get home."

The look he gave me after that was one of utter disbelief.

"You're kidding, right? You were almost beaten to death a few hours ago - what happens if you pass out from it? And your father's still out there. I'm not leaving you alone. That would make me as irresponsible as him."

It was touching, the way he seemed to care so much. But I didn't want to keep him here any longer. One of the only ways I could thank him was to make sure that the taxi driver's fee didn't end up at an all-time high. The economy was already bad enough.

"Do you have a better idea?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "The only other thing you can do is turn me over to social services. They'll stick me in a foster home for two years and then I'll be out on the streets." I wasn't entirely sure that this was accurate, but he didn't contradict me. "It should only be a few hours at most. I'll be fine."

"Would you be terribly opposed to staying with me for a few days?"

I openly stared at him this time, not even trying to hide the fact that I thought this idea was crazy. We hadn't even known each other five hours ago, and yet here he was suggesting that I stay with him for a few days. It was absurd.

"I don't even known you."

He held out a hand to me. I hesitated for a second, wondering if it was some sort of trick, before taking it and giving it a firm shake.

"I'm Zacky Baker," he introduced himself at long last.

"Abigael Williams," I told him, "and I think you're insane. But thanks anyway."

"It's just a few days," he insisted. "Please. It'll put my mind at ease."

I considered this for a moment. I had wanted to thank him, so who was I to deny him this? After all, it was only a few days. I glanced over at the taxi, and then back at Zacky. A few days so he would know I was safe, and the smallest taxi fee possible.

"Alright. Let's go."