Charger stomped along ahead of the group, eager to get to the Shadowbolts' Fillydelphia safe house. Nightshade walked behind him, keeping a careful watch. Blitz hopped gleefully around, ostensibly oblivious to the blood on her face and mane. Bringing up the rear, Stratus pulled the large crate which now contained five cases of Spin Juice and five sets of hoof blades. Starry Skies walked along beside him. She had always enjoyed his and Charger's company most, and despite his unapproachable demeanor, he was always a bit less gruff with her. His presence was comforting to her; his strength and bravery made up for her lack thereof. Finally to break the silence, she spoke.

"Stratus, do you know what's wrong with Charger?"

"He had some history with that dealer. Not sure what kind of history exactly. He should be fine."

At that moment Blitz landed gently between the two. "Charger will be okay. He stopped crying a few blocks back."

Starry Skies was taken aback at this. "I've never seen Charger cry."

Stratus looked to Blitz, his face devoid of emotion as usual. "Blitz, why'd you kill that little mare?"

Blitz reared up and shrugged. "I dunno. Charger said to. It was fun."

Stratus gave a grunt. "I just don't get you, kid. You kill like it's nothing."

Blitz rolled over onto her back, hovering in mid air. Looking up at the night sky she responded, "It is. Death hasn't really bothered me since Mom, Dad, and Sissy died in that fire. After that, the idea of ponies dying didn't really bother me. They just stop being here. No big deal."

Up ahead, Charger's mind was elsewhere. He was entirely unaware his hooves were carrying him forward. His mind kept drifting backward to the streets of Manehatten.

***

Age eight.

Charger sat on the floor, flipping through the little book with its hard cardboard pages. The crudely scribbled ponies before him looked so happy. Their house was a pretty stone one with wood supports and a wood roof. It was nothing like Charger's brick apartment house. There weren't holes in any of their walls. The ponies in the story book didn't have to worry about rats stealing food, or about running out of it, for that matter. Their roof didn't look like it leaked. Charger looked up from the book, sighing.

"Mama, I'm hungry. Can we eat yet?"

Charger's mother raised her head, tossing her unkempt black mane from her purple face. Her tired sunken eyes always seemed to be brimming with tears now days. In a quiet trembling voice, she addressed her young colt. "Charger, maybe you should go outside and play for a bit. Your father will be home soon."

No sooner than the words left her mouth did a stout brown pegasus with a grey mane burst through the door. He reeked of musk and alcohol. His dark eyes scanned the near-empty room and he inhaled deeply. He turned to his wife, speaking in a rough slurry voice.

"Sunflower, the hell are you cooking? Smells awful."

Sunflower cringed a bit. "Leftovers. We don't have anything fresh."

The brown pegasus stepped forward aggressively. "What about that bushel of soft alfalfa?"

The purple pony squirmed in her seat, her voice breaking. "It's for Charger, Thunder, I got it especially for-"

Thunder cut her off, mocking, "'It's for Charger!' Ha! The little shit doesn't contribute, why should he eat? When I was his age I was already pullin' the coal carts! Make his fuckin' ass work for food like I do!"

Thunder stomped towards his wife, still yelling. From behind him he heard a small voice cry out, "Stop being mean to mom!"

Thunder halted and turned, murder in his eyes. "The hell'd you say to me, boy?" He stepped forward as he spat the last word out.

"Thunder, don't!"

Charger stood and boldly faced his father. "Leave her alone!"

Thunder smiled daggers. "Okay then. You want me to be mean to you then, you little bastard? Huh?" Advancing on the cowering colt, he brought the edge of a hoof across his face, hard enough to sprawl him out on the floor.

"You don't talk to me like that, boy! You don't tell me shit! Your ass is mine! I fuckin' own you, boy!"  The blows rained down on Charger's face, head, and back, one after another. Finally the drunken pegasus wore himself out. He stopped, coughing and hacking as his chest heaved. Without a word he walked into the kitchen and served himself.

Charger's mother wept in the corner as Charger lay immobile on the floor, sobbing and whimpering quietly.

Age twelve.

Charger sprinted from the house. His father was too drunk to pursue. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to be gone. He wanted to run until he hit a wall, and if it didn't kill him, he wanted to hit it again. Tears streamed from his eyes as he ran forward. Not looking where he was going, he collided with something soft. He and the pony he ran into sprawled across the dirt of the Manehatten park.

"Ow! Watch where you're going, doofus", a female voice chastised.

Charger stood and wiped the tears from his eyes. Before him stood a rather disgruntled green unicorn filly.

"Sorry", he mumbled, turning away. In a flash of light the filly was in front of him.

"It's okay", she chirped, brushing the dirt from her blue mane. She was smiling. Charger wasn't used to being smiled at. It made his stomach feel funny. This pretty filly was actually smiling at him; she wasn't yelling or hitting him. He felt his cheeks grow warm.

"My name's Charger", he blurted out, feeling stupid.

The filly giggled. "I'm Sharkey."

The two stood in silence for a moment. Suddenly, Sharkey blurted out, "Hey, I gotta go now. Wanna hang out here tomorrow?"

Charger nodded, unable to speak for the lump in his throat. A friend! I made a friend!

Sharkey giggled again. "Bye, doofus", she chirped. A thick blush rose in her face as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and sprinted off, giggling.

Age sixteen.

Charger kicked out the fourth-story window. As he was about to leap out he turned to the filly in the bed behind him, chirping, "Later Moonshine!"

"Sunbeam", she corrected, her face falling.

At just that moment a slightly larger pegasus kicked open the door. "What the hell were you doing with my sister?!"

Charger threw himself from the window, plummeting downwards. At the last minute, just inches before his hooves would have hit the ground, he threw his weight upwards, flaring his wings and redirecting his momentum. He rocketed forward, dodging between dozens of stunned pedestrians. Making it across the street, he weaved in to an alleyway, turning to look behind him. The older brother had no chance of pursuing through that kind of traffic. Charger grinned as he took off, rocketing up alleys, throwing himself into hairpin turns. He came up on a plot of building spaced too close together for him to fly through.

At least, to close to fly through upright.

At the last second Charger rolled and held himself in the air, flying with the ground on his right and the sky on his left. The brick of the buildings whizzed by his stomach as his wingtip skimmed a puddle of water. As he exploded out of the alley he barrel-rolled across the busy street and through both open windows of the apartment on the other side. Charger's heart was pounding. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His face hurt from smiling. As he rocketed towards the club house of his little gang of delinquents, he thought to himself, Wait till I tell Sharkey about this!

Age twenty one.

Charger rolled over onto his back, his chest heaving as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He stretched his still-rigid wings, shuddering. The figure beside him, also breathless, turned her face towards his. Her soft lips pressed against mouth . He smiled, not breaking the kiss; he'd never been so happy. As the green furred lips broke from his own, he spoke.

"I love you, Sharkey."

She simply smiled, burying her face in his neck and running gentle hooves over his lean body.

The past nine years had been easier for Charger. With the troublemaker Sharkey as a friend, everything seemed a little nicer. And one year before when he finally told her how he felt about her, things became perfect. Having gotten sucked into the underground racing crowd he found his true calling, and after only a few years he ran his own crew of street racing pegasi. They were fast enough to run the little borough of Manehatten in which he had grown up. There was really only one rival group. And they weren't worth dealing with. They were a serious bunch. Dealers. Thieves. Killers. They were run by a series of under bosses, all of whom answered to an extremely wealthy and ruthless pegasus, Rain, who'd had his eye on Charger's turf for a while. Because of his newfound prominence as a racer as well as a gang leader, Charger was untouchable; killing him could start an all-out gang war. Because of this, Rain and Charger had kept an uneasy truce, staying well away from each other to avoid conflict.

Sharkey sat up. "Oh hey, we have that meeting tonight with Derby and his buddies."

Charger rolled out of bed and stood, looking out the window. He felt Sharkey's front hooves on his shoulders as she kissed his face and neck, pressing her warm chest into his back. "Sharkey, I dunno about this race. The set up seems sketchy. Derby's always been straight with us, but I can't figure out why he'd wanna meet at that old packing plant first. We're on the same crew. Something isn't right about him not wanting to use the safe house."

Sharkey crooned into his ear, "It'll be fine, babe. I promise. And don't worry about me, but I'll be a bit late, I've gotta run some errands near Horseshoe park."

Charger tensed. "That's Rain's turf. You be careful."

"You're silly. Rain wouldn't try anything. He's too sophisticated and uppity to draw attention to himself or his crew like that."

Charger grunted in agreement as Sharkey pulled him back onto the bed, her horn glowing with excitement.

That night Charger couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness as he entered the old packing plant. The place was so dimly lit, and the boxes stacked to the ceiling made it uncomfortably hard to tell how many ponies might be in the room.  He walked to the most brightly lit area and pressed his rump against a stack of boxes. If nothing else, he'd see somepony coming. Man, I really wish Sharkey would hurry up; this place is creeping me the hell out, he thought.

Suddenly a pony stepped forward. Charger snapped his wings open, ready to bolt.

"Charger, it's just me!", Sharkey said quickly.

Charger relaxed, stepping forward. As he approached his girlfriend, he couldn't help but feel that something was still wrong. From behind a large shipping container stepped a tall grey pegasus, his short black mane swept back from his face. Charger recognized him simply by his cutie mark, a bit with a knife through it.

"Rain", Charger hissed. "What the hell are you doing here? Where's Derby?"

Rain chuckled softly. "Derby's dead, Charger. He has been for three days. You were supposed to be killed this morning, but I decided to give you an option." Rain tossed his head, giving Charger a glimpse of the scar running back from his jaw line up the side of his head.  "We would make a great team, you know. Join me, Charger."

"Or what?", Charger asked, knowing the answer.

Just then, six large earth ponies entered the lit part of the room, encircling Charger.

Rain gave a cold amused laugh. "Choose wisely, my boy."

"Fuck you, Rain," Charger roared.

Rain smiled. "I told you he wouldn't come around, Sharkey," he sighed. "We better get going, dear, before we miss the train to Fillydelphia. I know you'll just love the loft I've bought us."

Charger's stomach dropped as Rain put a wing over Sharkey. She didn't resist as he craned his neck and planted his open mouth on her own.

Charger heard his tears softly hitting the floor before he realized he was crying. He never saw the first blow coming. In a flash, he was on the floor as the burly earth ponies slammed rough hooves into his face, neck, back, and stomach. There came a pause in the blows as Sharkey stepped forward.

Sharkey looked at Charger, her face blank, with only a fleeting hint of remorse.

"Sorry Charger. It's only business."

With this, Sharkey delivered the blow to the side of Charger's head that rendered him unconscious.

***

Charger trudged onward, cold tears still clinging to his eyelashes. He entered the safehouse, presumably unaware of the other Shadowbolts behind him. As Stratus entered dragging the crate, Charger popped open the lid and took a bottle of Spin Juice. Without a word he popped open the bottle, drained its contents, and flopped down on the low cot in his room. The powerful concoction was working its magic; his emotions melted away, making room for a blur of warped sounds and bright colors. Feeling spitefully apathetic, he stood and spread his wings. He was going to blast through the window and fly until he dropped from the sky, to hell with everypony else. With a jolt, Charger attempted to fly forward but instead rotated forward ninety degrees and slammed face first into the floor. He lay there chuckling cynically until he fell asleep.

Nightshade addressed the group, indicating Charger's room. "He actually has the right idea. It's been a long night for all of us. Everypony kick back, get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a bit more fun."