Worthless

<<Still in Flashback>>

It sounded so much like a human. 

Still holding onto the iron bar of the gate, his eyes darted left and right as he leaned back to check his surroundings. The alcohol in his body seemed to have dispersed completely as seriousness took over him. The soft sniffles had increased in volume and turned into sobs. 

'A kid--?' Han pulled out his pocket watch, squinting his eyes to read the numbers. 'At 3:58 in the morning?! What is a kid doing in the streets at this hour?!' 

The sound indicated that the source was in close range and it set the alarm off in his mind. He released his tight grip from the bars steadily before moving backwards. Taking a careful step, one after another, he moved slowly towards the source. 

The sounds had brought him back towards the alley way he had crossed before. Han had always prided himself for possessing the innate ability to always pay attention to his surroundings-- something he had had since he started thinking about becoming a detective, even when he was drunk. 

Not noticing this for the first time he went through the alley way was a huge blow to his pride. He stepped closer, slowly, gulping down his saliva as he went on. Part of his consciousness hoped he had heard wrong, maybe it was just a stray animal. 

But the other part of his consciousness couldn't deny it because of the scent that lingered in the air. Sure, the alley way was full of trash, rotting odor, animals and homeless humans' waste, puke and all, but this. 

Above all of those, there was another lingering smell that was heavy and thick and… 

Wrong. 

There was definitely something wrong with it, yet he couldn't exactly place it. 

Since the dimly lit yellow glow from the streetlamps couldn't light the whole area, the passage was gradually getting darker and darker, making Alpha Inspector reach out for the wall. The bricks were rough underneath his palms as he used them for support as he could only see silhouettes of what was in the alley. 

Cursing his bad luck that followed him like a parasite, his foot managed to kick over an empty bottle of liquor and it didn't stop there. Bad luck just never spared him as his other foot came in contact with the cold metal of the garbage bin. A loud thud echoed and a stray cat hissed at him for disturbing it's precious bedtime.

The stray cat skittered around him, probably to find a better place to sleep. Feeling at fault, he muttered a soft 'sorry' at it before turning back to the alley. 

And there. 

He saw it. 

A hand so skinny and pale reached out towards the empty bottle he had kicked before. Slowly, it wrapped it's fingers around the bottle and smashed it on the brick walls before pointing it towards him. 

Han's dark brown eyes trailed the pointy end that was aimed in his direction, towards the malnourished hands and finally the person --kid-- that was holding it. The boy had slowly stepped out of the shadow, narrow and bony shoulders tight and high with tension. 

'10, maybe less, judging by how skinny he is,' Han's detective mind immediately supplied him. 'Young.' 

A boy. Short dirty brown hair, probably lighter brown underneath all that dirt. A pair of round emerald eyes on a face too pale and cracked lips, probably due to the cold winter. 

Only wearing a piece of clothing that looked so much like a hospital gown, torn in a few places. The boy was so thin that Han was sure he didn't just imagine it when he saw bones jutting out of his skin. 

The boy was also supporting burned skin. They were red and bumpy in some parts, and Han was sure if they were in daylight, he would see more blisters across those skin. He must have some wounds judging by the dried blood matted on his clothes and skin. 

Even if all of these signs set alarm off in Han's mind, the smell-- the scent, the boy was emitting was certainly disturbing. 

The first sniff would determine the boy was an Omega, yet the second, he wasn't at all. It was as if the pheromones the boy gave out were standing on a thin line between Beta and Omega. He was carrying a mixture of both. 

The brown-haired little boy swung the cracked bottle around when Han took a step forward. Han wanted to call him, to try and tell him that he didn't mean any harm, that he wasn't going to hurt him. 

But the aggressive swinging intensified every careful step Han took that Han was scared the boy might hurt himself instead. Based on Han's instinct and his observation of the boy's defensive stance, the boy was trying to block his way. 

No. 

Maybe someone. 

Another sniff had told him that the boy wasn't alone. 

"Don't--" Han gasped out when the sharp point almost graced his fingers. "Please, I'm not trying to hurt you." 

The boy finally looked at him and the eyes that locked with his own made Han feel as though he was being doused in cold water. His bright, brilliant emerald eyes that glistened with unshed tears glowed in the dimly lit alley, they were full of fear and despair, like he had no hope for himself. 

He looked at Han as if he was a predator, ready to attack him, ready to tear him apart, ready to hurt him. He looked as if he had already resigned himself to his fate. 

However, his eyes suddenly changed. 

Instead of hopelessness, they began to turn defiant, eyebrows creasing and lips turning down into a frown. His grasp on the neck of the bottle tightened and he pulled his lips back, baring his teeth and snarl. 

And he attacked. 

<<Continue in next chapter>>