Chapter 1

[Authour Note = A pretty tragic chapter but this will be the only tragic one]

A young child with dark brown hair around 5 or maybe 6 years old in shabby clothes was sitting with his legs hanging off the pair while shivering a little in the cold waiting for his mom to come and get him.

Now over the week, this had become a common sight while people ignored the child alone except for one older homeless man who lived under the pair that he was sitting on.

Feeling his stomach protest in hunger, the boy stood up and rummaged through his pockets for any leftover money he had, pulling out a few scrunched-up dollar note and sand.

Now throwing away the sand and walking along the pair towards where there were a lot of people on the pair made it somewhat nerve-wracking for the kid.

Finally marching through the crowd which wasn't a lot but to his small size, it was like walking throw a moving forest when he smiled a little when finally seeing a stand selling hotdogs that had a small line of two people, now walking over to it while clutching the dollar note.

"A kid, where are your parents," asked the teen at the hot dog stand.

"M-mom went shopping while I wait for her, can I have one please," The small kid asked now standing on his toes while holding out the dollar note to the teen.

"Sorry kid, it's 4 dollars for one," He said.

"B-but this is all I have," The child asked now looking misty-eyed.

"Kid, move along, I can't risk losing the job just because I feel sorry, now go," The teen said.

The kid now scrunched up the dollar more while now running back to his sitting spot to wait for his mom while one of his hands was wiping at his eyes.

Now sitting back at his spot on the pair while watching as the sun slowly moved down as he was hungry and coming to the realization that his mom wasn't coming back.

Now crying at feeling alone, he heard a voice below him from the guy that helped him out.

"Hey, men don't cry, or at least not where other people can see it brat," In a weak yet strong voice from below him.

"Why," the kid asked still sobbing but not as much.

"That's just the way it is, men don't cry," He said with resolve making the kid now bite his lip and stop crying entirely now.

"Ok," The kid muttered in a low voice.

"Guess I can't call you brat anymore," The old man's voice said with a laugh.

"I already told you, I'm Cain," The now-named kid said annoyed while forgetting his sadness.

"Really, must have not said it loud enough then since it's the first time I'm hearing it." He said while Cain slipped off the pair landing on the soft sand a meter and half off the ground and turning around and looking at the old man.

The old man was short and looked shorter even as he was hunched or would be hunched if he wasn't laying down at the moment, now moving to his face that had his fin grey balding hair and beard covering the lower half of his weathered face.

"Nah, you just going death old man," Cain said wiping his eyes while his eyes moved over to a mostly intact box of greasy chips that looked like it was seasoned with sand.

"Ah, slandering an old man while looking at his food like a vulture," The old man said while coughing at the end.

"I ain't a vulture, and are you ok," Cain asked while moving over to look at the old man who now seemed sick.

The old man laughed which made him start coughing while saying, "I've lived through a war dog fighting in the clouds. Now no cough going to kill me," after coughing while grabbing the box of chips and pushing them to Cain.

"Really, tell me more about fighting in the clouds, are you a superhero," Cain said while dropping to the ground while listening to the stories of the old man while eating the cold chips and feeling the crunch of the sand on his teeth though this wasn't too different to his life other than living in the cold without a roof, and all the sand.

Getting tired, Cain pulled his arms inside his shirt and brought up his knees.

"Here kid, this will keep you safe," The old man said in a weak voice much weaker than before but Cain was too tired and cold to pick up on it.

"T-thank you," Cain said while the old man wrapped him in a quality brown leather aviator jacket though it did look old with a few stitches, Cain felt warm and safe.

-Old Mans POV-

Seeing Cain fall asleep while seeing doubles now, he coughed again this time spitting up a bit of blood while thinking, 'I can't let him wake up to me like this, or worse,' bleak thoughts as he helped himself up using the pier supports that was all around him.

With that, he started walking away with each step feeling heavier and heavier until he just couldn't anymore and fell down and hoping he made it far enough that Cain wouldn't find him.

While his vision got darker and darker he had one thought running through his mind, 'I didn't tell him my name,'.

-Cain's POV-

Waking up Cain yawned while standing up now with the leather jacket on that covered him like a dress while he looked around for the old man.

Not seeing the old man he started to panic while thinking, 'No, no no he can't of left me too, that lia-,' that was all he got to thinking as when he turned around he saw the old man not too far away face down in the sand.

Laughing while running to him and shouting, "Don't scare me like that old man," while wiping at his eyes that were close to tearing up again.

Not getting a response, Cain said, "Come on old man, you can't sleep on your face like that," still getting no response.

"Old man, wake up," Cain said while now feeling confused and pushing the old man over so he was facing the sky.

Now Cain felt cold as the old man had his eyes open which looked clouded, but what scared him was his beard had red flecks of blood in it.

"O-old man," Cain said in a stuttered and low voice.