You preferred to be alone. Even in a gutter with a bunch of misfits like you, each of whom clearly shared the same misery as you did. You preferred to be alone.

"Hey, we got a whole lot of bread! You look starving t—" you slapped the girl that had approached you.

"Get away from me!" you shouted, and your heart clenched as she broke down and cried saying something about just wanting to help. You pretended to ignore her. This had to be done. You didn't want to inflict that pain on yourself or anyone else ever again. It would be just fine to stay alone.

You hated being alone.

<><><>

"How about that one, with the sullen eyes?" a gentleman asked, and you glanced up, immediately knowing he was referring to you. Another one. This was the twelfth today. Why were you so popular all of a sudden? You were usually lucky to get one. Well, maybe unlucky for the one who owned the brothel.

"6 pence."

"Ah, not fleecing me this time?" the gentleman replied as he easily handed the coins over to the owner, and you looked away as the gentleman started leading you away. You would never get used to this job, if it could be called that. You didn't think it could be called a that.

The good thing was that, for now, you were fed and clothed with a roof over your head. Your food was often given in generous portions, as patrons complained about your bony limbs, so there was that. People didn't try to get closer to you either, so that was just fine by you too. Some of them talked though. About their wives, their friends, their work.

Why couldn't you have all that? Sometimes the bitterness was enough to drive you insane.

"You know, you really hate it here, don't you?" the gentleman asked, and it took you several moments to respond.

"No... I'm grateful that I could live a better life here," you replied.

"No," the gentleman said, taking your chin in his slim, uncalloused fingers. "I meant here, in this world. You hate living." For a moment, your breath caught in your throat before you finally managed a response.

"That may be so," you replied. "But I also cannot bear to die when so much has been sacrificed for me to be here."

The gentleman laughed joyfully as he pulled you into a bedroom.

"Excellent; I love women who torture themselves~" he replied, kissing you roughly. "I think I'll have fun with you."

<><><>

"F/N, go out and advertise, will you? We're losing business, and I don't care if you have to scream it while a man is on top of you, but bring in more customers."

"Come back soon, my sweet~" the gentleman who had been coming regularly for you said, and with a shudder, you left the brothel, if only to get away from him. He put you on edge the way he spoke, and though it was against the rules to physically harm a prostitute here, you felt as if he was carefully picking apart your sanity, inspecting the pieces and then crushing them.

"A circus?" you mumbled, looking at a sign. A colorful poster; that's what you needed.

"Ah, excuse me!" a brown-haired teenager called as they ran past you. "Going to be late for the show, aaah!" You looked after the boy for a long several moments, and to your surprise, he stopped and then looked at you with one of his dark blue eyes. For some reason, you felt like you had seen him before.

"Actually, miss, are you busy?" the boy asked, scratching the back of his head. "I could really use some help."

"I'm advertising," you replied. "Unless there's a lot of people where you're going, I'll have to pass."

"Oh, there's a lot of people!" the boy assured. "I'm going to that circus on the poster. But what are you advertising for?"

"Does this neckline not speak for itself?" you asked with a sigh.

"Oh. Ah, well, I could still really use some help. See, there are these herbs, right, and if our tiger eats them, she'll be better behaved, and we don't want a hostile tiger..."

"Is that catnip?" you asked, pointing to the grass crushed in both the boy's hands, and he nodded quickly.

"This isn't enough to last through the night, so could you pick some and bring it with you? Please?" You paused before you sighed.

"Fine. Which way's the circus?" The boy's eyes shone with gratitude as he gave you a series of directions, first for the catnip and second for the circus.

Before long, you were slowly making your way towards a crowd of tents, and a familiar man greeted you. You knew that face and bright orange hair well.

"Ah, 'ee must be that lass Doll mentioned might be comin'. Yer 'elp is much appreciat'ed, lass. 'Ow's about ye come watch the show? Free 'o charge, I promise." You hesitated.

"Fine," you said finally, walking past Joker, briefly realizing he possessed a prosthetic instead of walking around without his right arm.

A human hand closed around your wrist.

"An' might I say what a pretty 'ore ye came to be fer 'urtin' our little sister. Mind yer step 'round 'ere."

"Don't threaten a defenseless woman you don't know unless you want me to find the Yard," you replied coldly, glaring at the male out of the corner of your eye. "And if you so choose to make an attempt on my life, I'll make sure my body is found by the Yard."

"Oh, I wasn't threatnin'! Just want'd to make sure ya wouldn't 'urt our Doll again."

"Really." You turned your back, wondering if you should stay here or not, but you had already wasted a good hour getting to this point. May as well grin and bear it.

You spoke no more as you headed further into the circus tents, wondering how quickly you could spread the word. Would you need to sleep with half the men here just to prove your point? You shuddered at the thought.

"Hello, sir," you said to a bored-looking man waiting in line for the big tent. You put on your best face, hoping it would entice him. "I'm in a bit of a pinch you see. My friends and I are in dire straits, and we could really use some help from big, strong, handsome men like you. Could you come to Carrion later this evening? Maybe I could... repay you somehow?" Blue eyes met yours, and the male you had met earlier on your journey's start flushed pink.

"I'm offended! I'll have you know I'm a genuine maid!" the girl responded, placing her hands on her hips. "And why are you using me as your advertising target?" You sighed deeply and scratched your head.

"Sorry; honest mistake. I've had this one customer in that I can't tell what it is, and it just messes with my head. And I didn't recognize you from the back of your head."

"Hey, don't sweat it so much," the girl said, waving off your apology. "I know my figure isn't exactly curvaceous like Beast's, and I'm not really the girly type either, so I get your mistake at least a little." You started as the girl wrapped her arm around your shoulder. "C'mon, I'm off today 'cause I sprained my wrist. I wanna watch sometimes too."

You didn't get much opportunity to refuse as the girl dragged you inside the tent with her good hand and plopped next to you on the stands. "So what's your name?"

"F/N..." you said, glancing over at the girl, wondering if your brothel-keeper would be angry at you.

"Oh? My name's Doll!"

You froze, feeling your focus sharpen on her.

That was why she looked so familiar. She was the girl who had tried to help you those years ago. And now she was sitting next to you without a care in the world, smiling to herself. "Ah, and that reminds me!" She withdrew several Funtom lollipops. "To commend our meeting, I have caramel, milk, and strawberry! Which one do you want?"

What was wrong with her? Why was she always so happy? Did she recognize you and was pretending this was your first meeting?

"F/N? You're kinda scarin' me with that death-stare," Doll said, looking at you a bit concerned, and you stood silently.

"I have to go. I remembered something I have to do," you said, making to leave when Doll grabbed your sleeve.

"Aw, c'mon, it's rude to leave during a show; Joker and them'll get the wrong idea, 'specially since you got to come for free. It'd be like telling them that people only stay to get their money's worth y'know?"

"I left the stove on."

"Oh shit, really?!" Doll asked with wide eyes. "We gotta get there then! I'll help you save anything if the house is on fire!" Doll stood up and started dragging you (again), now outside of the tent. "Which direction to your house?!"

"I—" Doll looked around and pulled you along even further, and you sighed. You couldn't do this. "Look, that was a lie, Doll. I was trying to get away from you. Well, and work."

"A lie?" Doll asked blankly, stopping in her tracks. "You wanted to get away from me?"

"It's not you, it's me. I don't want to hurt you."

"Hurt me?" So she didn't know who you were. Well, it had probably been ten years at least. You had thought she was a boy for god's sake.

"We've met, Doll. You offered me your hard-won bread when we were kids. I told you no. I don't stick around people. I don't accept kindness from people. I don't give kindness to people either. The more alone I am, the better."

Doll's eyes changed from angry to pained in an instant.

"How can you possibly want to be alone? That's... hell."

"So what?" you asked. "Better me than anyone else—what are you...?" Doll was hugging you. And bawling. Loudly. Joker was going to kill you. "H-Hey, Doll? Do you think you can stop crying for me?"

"But that's so sad!" she whined into your shoulder

"Doll? Hun?" She finally let go of you, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, grinning so widely that you thought she was going to split her face in half.

"I've decided!"

"Decided what?" you asked warily as Doll suddenly took you by the shoulders.

"I'm going to stick to you like glue; you'll never have to be alone again!"

"Wh—"

"C'mon, c'mon!" Doll, again, dragged you back to the tents.

"How are you going to stay with me? I'm a prostitute!"

"Then just stop being one! Doesn't sound like a fun job to me."

"I have debts!"

"Then we'll work hard to pay 'em! Stop dragging your feet!"

"But—"

"No buts, F/N, I'm sticking with you. Over the hills and far away; over the hills and a great way off; we'll still be together!"