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It started just like most days, Stan had just woken up and rolled out of his car from a long uncomfortable night. Without any plan other than to not kill himself, Stan started walking. Not sure where he was heading but anywhere was better than sitting in his car and dreaming of a better life.
He heard a scream from the alley next to him, a high pitched child-like wail of terror. For just a moment Stan wanted to keep walking and leave it behind. It wasn’t his job to deal with this, he was just someone trying to get by any way he could.
Then the kid started begging, awful pitiful cries for mercy. It pulled at something deep in Stan’s soul, making him turn into the alley with his hands already in his brass knuckles. He went sprinting to where the tiny voice was echoing from, their pleas for mercy getting louder as he went.
In a dark spot of the dimly lit alley, there stood a large wolf-like dog towering over a small maybe seven year old kid. Stan couldn’t see any real distinguishing details about either the dog or the little kid, just that the dog had the kid completely cornered against the wall and two dumpsters. Must not be a street kid then, or at least the kid wasn’t on the street for long. Everyone knows to never box yourself in like that. But that’s why Stan came running in here, to help the kid from having something major happen.
Full tilt running into the dog, Stan tackled it to the side. Stunning it long enough for Stan to yell at the kid to move, punching the dog as hard as he could in the muzzle. The dog wasn’t fazed by anything Stan was trying to do, just snarling and snapping at him while flopping to try and get Stan off.
A whimper brought Stan’s attention away from trying to keep the dog down, pulling his gaze back to the side. The little kid was frozen with wide scared eyes, staring at the fight happening in front of them. They were terrified, stuck in place just like the bricks in the wall behind them.
The dog used Stan’s momentary distraction to latch onto his right arm, dragging him off balance. He tried to lock his legs onto the animal's midsection but the pain ripping at his arm made him instinctively go lax. The dog managed to throw Stan off of it, letting it jump on top of him with surprising ease for a dumb street mutt.
Stan kept throwing punches the best he could but he was at a severe disadvantage now that he was on his back under the crazed animal. His arm was bleeding and he could feel the muscle where the dog bit move unnaturally. All that kept going through Stan’s mind now was how much he didn’t want to die to some crazy street wolf-dog in some shitty alley. He could have kept moving, ignored the desperate screams of the little kid still curled up and scared next to him. But he knew that he would never do that, Stan would never say no to a child who needed help.
He was losing energy to keep fighting, it had been a few days without food and no real sleep. Stan was flagging but the dog was decidedly not , if he didn’t find some way out of this fast he would be eaten alive in this alley.
Right as the large hound reared back to lunge at Stan’s neck, something hit it hard upside its head. A crack of metal hitting bone and the resounding ringing of a hollow metal object bouncing off the walls. The hit was enough to daze it, giving Stan the ability to throw it off of him. Launching his head to where his current saviour was, Stan saw the little kid panting heavily with a large piece of metal pipe hanging loosely in their hands.
Their large scared eyes met Stan’s, tears spilling over as they ran to him. With nothing else to do, Stan picked up the small child and ran towards the exit. He prayed that the animal was hurt enough for it to be unable to follow them. Sprinting as hard as he could, Stan ran straight to his car. Throwing open the drivers side door with the kid still safely in his arms, bundled up to his chest with their head tucked under his chin.
The hitching sobs of a small child and heavy panting were the only sounds that echoed in the car. Stan was scared to look at his arm, he would definitely need to go to a hospital. He couldn’t afford a hospital and this kid. There was no way Stan would leave this child on the streets after today, they saved each other.
The kids breathing leveled out to what Stan assumed was a sleeping pattern, soft puffs of air tickling his collarbone from where they laid. He needed to wake them up so he could drive to somewhere that could treat his horrific bite wound, licensed professional or not. But he didn’t have the heart to wake them up, after what just happened they could use the sleep.
Humming to himself in thought, Stan decided to just hold them tight and drive. He’s done worse and it's not like he had some kinda car seat for the little tike. Stan didn’t know what he was going to do with them, he didn’t even know what gender they were, but that wasn’t anything he could fix right now. The only thing that he could fix was trying to not die in front of them from blood loss.
God, he hoped that this little kid had a safe home to go back to. If not, he didn’t know what he would do. Stan highly doubted anyone would let him take them in legally, not that the law has ever stopped him before. The only thing that mattered to Stan was making sure he didn’t die and that his kid was safe.