Alphonse Norwich IV had one last night to spend in Toxteth, and he wanted to make sure no one would forget it. Even if they couldn't remember it.

His return to Rat Alley had been nothing short of a royal procession the morning he arrived after the draft. As Philip's old Corsa puttered and spat its way through the older Liverpool roads and into his (now vaguely infamous) hometown, the welcome party was bigger than he could have hoped for. Friends and family had piled out into the main street of the Alley to greet the local rat who managed to make it big. In a lot of ways it was more than just Alfie who had won. It was all of them. One of their own who managed to rise up, against all odds, and it meant that maybe they could, too.

Of course, not everyone was quite so pleased.

"Lip up, Vin, was 'ey all goin' nuttas at the Pipe, eh?" Alfie said with a broad grin, after embracing his old friend.

Vinny snickered, clapping Alphonse on the back. "Er... most of 'em, yeh!"

Catching the hesitation on his mate's voice, Alphonse stepped back a touch. "What y'mean 'most' of 'em?"

Vinny rubbed at the back of his neck and began his explanation.

"Y'know, Alfie... eva since all 'is, I mean I know y'don't watch th' telly much, but the news... it ain't been all good, mate. Reporters an' all the press keep tryin' t' scurry in 'ere and get a story, an' if they can't they go back an' talk about 'ow awful the rats was. I mean, y'know how it is out 'ere. Most of us stay ten paws back from anyone wit' a camera or a microphone, so th' only rats they end up seein' is, y'know, th' ones who let 'em know they ain't welcome."

Alphonse chuckled and crossed his arms. "An' 'ow izzat new?"

Vinny shrugged. "It ain't, but it's a lot more now'n it was. Nonnies all over is tryin' t' get their noses in 'ere, sniff around our business. Y'know I even 'eard they's tryna find those fuckin' beakas back from when."

Concerned, Alphonse's heavy brow furrowed, the grin faded from his face. "Izzat right."

"I dunno f'sure, Alfie, just what's goin' 'round. An' afta th' stunt Nicky pulled when th' Bones came in, we been seein' the coppas out at the edges more'n usual. They still ain't comin' in, but..." Vinny saw his friend's tense expression and sighed. "I ain't sayin' we ain't giggles 'ere, but y'gotta understand, the cameras is pointin' at us, too. So just... be careful, eh? Show'm who's boss, right?"

With a small laugh, Alfie put his hand on the back of Vinny's head and pulled him in, the pair of rats thunking foreheads together in a typical show of brotherhood. "Mate, I'm doin' this FOR th' Alley. Y'think I'd do anythin' t' fuck it all up?"

Back home, it was a similarly conflicted scene. For all the celebration and pride the family had with their brother and son, there was a reality that they still had to accept.

"But y'goin' off t' live with 'em nonnies!"

"Yer right, Nicky, I am. An' I ai-"

"NICK! Don't call me Nicky no more!"

"Heh, right, sorry mate. Look, Nick, th' fact is 'at I can't up an' cart th' whole bloody league back 'ere. If I wanna get 'at coin, it means goin' out into th' swamp."

Sitting on the folding chair in their shared bedroom, watching his big brother pack, Nick kept his arms crossed, visibly displeased. "But what if y' start gettin' y' head on backwards? What if 'ey start fillin' y' up wit' all their... their nonnie bollocks??"

Entering from the hallway, Olivia chuckled at her brothers. "Y' gotta have a brain before y' can get brainwashed, Nick, so I think Alfie 'ere is safe!"

"Very funny! Don't y'got some mess t'clean up? Ain't Simon soiled up somewheres?"

With a roll of her eyes, Olivia gave Alfie a push. "I just got 'im all sorted, thank ye. Mum found 'is in a drawer, thought y' might want it," she said, handing him a small cloth bag.

Peeking inside, Alphonse inquired. "Whuzzis, 'en?"

"Dad's old watch. Remember 'e always had it with 'im? Mum said he would 'ave wanted you t' have it, but she didn't know when t' give it t' you. I think now's as good a time as any."

Alphonse didn't answer. He popped the old brass pocketwatch open, looking at its face. The time had stopped some time ago, and he had a feeling he knew roughly when it was. The big rat's roughened thumb lightly drifted over the winding stem, as if considering starting it up again, but then changed his mind. Then just as quickly, he snapped the watch shut and snorted.

"Yeh well, if 'e wanted me t' have it, 'e shoulda stayed t' give it to me," he said flatly, slipping it into his jeans pocket.

Walking around the small bedroom, Alphonse Norwich IV came upon a realization: he had very little to pack. Over the Vegas weekend, he had felt like an outcast for many reasons, but one that had crept up on him was his lack of luggage. Zack and the others were surrounded by suitcases, full of neatly folded clothes and other items from home, and that was only for a few days. Alfie had come in with an old backpack and Terrence a duffel, and that was just about the entirety of their belongings. Small wardrobes, not much by way of toiletries, no laptops or cell phones, one pair of boots apiece, even for moving his entire life there was little for the big rat to stow away. Muri had told him not to worry about furniture or kitchenware, they could take care of that when he found his new place. Almost a quarter of a century on the planet and all he had was a backpack with some clothes in it and a dead man's pocketwatch.

Alphonse promised himself that when he'd come back, he'd need a lot more than one bag.

Dinner that night was a pleasant surprise. Having heard about Alphonse's drafting, their uncle Alan pulled some strings and got the family enough fresh, raw chicken and fruit, vegetables, and even a batch of cider for Terry. The family ate and talked about how many of them couldn't believe it was actually happening, that a few months ago he was just playing practice games at Hughes Park with his friends.

Charlotte, silent until that moment, interrupted the revelry. "So I suppose we won't be seeing you again now that y' got your fancy new life."

Alfie laughed and shook his head. "Aw c'mon, mum. I'll be back often as 'ey let me. Maybe the lot of y' can even come out an' visit! Would y' like 'at, eh?" he asked the younger ones, to a general chorus of agreement.

Charlotte let out a small huff. "Oh sure, just up an' take th' family overseas. An' then when we come back th' house has new owners, what then?"

With Alfie at a bit of a loss, Graham stepped in for him. "Well we could go out a few at a time, eh?"

Olivia chimed in. "That's right, mum! Maybe not all at once, but some of us could make th' trip, couldn't we?" She, like the others, were excited at the prospect of seeing the United States that they'd heard so much about. Their mother was less enthused, but didn't argue the point further.

"So when d'ya leave?" Emma asked.

Alphonse chuckled some more. "Tomorrow, Em. Just in t' get my things an' make sure you lot's squared away. Lotta business t' tend to in Hawaii. Gotta get a house, meet up wit' th' team, all 'at."

It brought the dinner to a bit of a halt. Suddenly the family remembered that Alfie really was leaving. It wasn't just a hypothetical. Having him gone for a few days hadn't been terribly foreign to the Norwiches, it wasn't unusual for the big rat to spend a day or two partying and drinking with the Biters before returning home. The realization that this time he would be gone for longer, and it wouldn't just be that he was elsewhere in the Alley, hit harder than they expected. If there was one thing the Alley always knew it was that Alphonse Norwich IV would be on its streets. No longer.

A tug on his sleeve caught Alphonse's attention, and he tilted his head down. "What is it, mate?"

Colin gently grabbed his big brother's ear and whispered into it. A big grin on his face, Alfie tugged Colin in for a burly, one-armed hug.

"Yeh, I'll be in for Christmas, Gibbs Galen I will."

That night, the Biters threw Alphonse a farewell party that they promised would make every other look like a pup's sleepover. The Bastards set up a stage in Hughes Park, like the block party they'd thrown when Murina had visited, but this was more than a Saturday throwdown with friends. This was sending off one of their most high profile residents. That big blue mohawk had been a fixture of every concert and party for nearly the last ten years. His family's tragedy had been what transformed the Alley into what it was, his presence with the Biters grew them beyond just a punk group known for stirring up trouble and into a near militia. The Biter Boys had no leaders, no generals, but if they did? Alphonse Norwich IV would certainly have been one of them.

As promised, the bash was above and beyond. The music was louder, the drinks more plentiful, and the debauchery more debaucharific. The Bastards took the stage, playing old classics and newer songs, even one that Terry had written to commemorate the occasion. It was a good thing Muri hadn't been there to see it, with the mosh pits and thrown fists even more frenzied than when she'd seen them. Like Richter Rozich had observed, it was a religious experience. The bodies in front of the stage moved in waves, ebbing and flowing, colliding with itself and then spinning in new directions while Ollie commanded them from up on the makeshift stage. Around the perimeter, observers cheered the action on, occasionally reaching in to rescue a rat who had fallen or toss another in.

By the time it was over, the crowd was exhausted, running on adrenaline and alcohol. Terry and the Bastards sat on the far side of the park, giving themselves a moment's break before heading back into the melee. It was a unique experience for the younger Norwich brother, listening to the Buckleys talk about Alphonse III, Alfie as a pup, and their memories of how the Alley changed over the years. These post-concert chats were one of his favorite parts of being in the band, cooling off and having a few drinks after another performance done well.

Then one of the older Biters came over, looking concerned. "Oi, Terry. Don't mean t' nose in 'ere, but y' might wanna go get y' brotha."

Terrence's brow furrowed, and he stood up quickly. "Alfie? Is 'e okay?"

The older rat, a fixture from the Leaky Pipe whose name Terrence couldn't remember, looked over his shoulder into the crowd. "Eh... Alfie's fine, but 'at blighta he's got his claws on might not be so lucky."

"Oh fuck me..."

Terry shoved his way through the crowd, his large ears focused on the sounds around him, listening for anything that stood out. Angry yelling instead of just belligerent, the familiar bellow of his older brother. It wasn't the first time he'd had to go jump in the line of fire to stop Alfie from sending some rat's teeth down his throat, and it almost left him saddened that it would very well likely be the last. Terrence had little time for his trip down memory lane, though.

"G'wan then! Say it a-fuckin'-gain, mate!"

Alphonse was glaring at another rat, a smaller fellow named Skins that Terry knew from school, practically breathing smoke at him while a few of Alfie's friends did their best to hold the burly rodent back. Skins himself had two friends on either side of him who were similarly trying to talk the furious Norwich down. The remainder of the crowd was making a small space, half not wanting to get caught in the crossfire and the other half egging the fight on. In the Alley, fistfights were good entertainment.

"I told ye, Alfie, I didn't say fuck all!" Skins protested, all but spitting back at the larger rat.

"ALFIE!" Terry broke in, trying to wedge in between the two and make some space, unsuccessfully. "Alfie!!! What're you on about??"

Alphonse's lips were pulled back, his chest heaving, swaying faintly from the alcohol. The sight of a furious Alphonse with even less self control made even his brother faintly nervous. He knew Alfie would never hurt him intentionally, but this was a situation to be handled with as much care as possible.

"I heard what y'said about Gordy, y' li'l cunt! Think I ain't got ears, eh??"

Terry dove right in between the two. "Alfie, mate!! Calm down, eh? It's a party! Whatever 'e said, it do-"

"FUCK OFF, Terry!!" Alphonse suddenly barked at his brother, eyes never breaking away from Skins. "This got nothin' t' do with you!"

With another of the Norwich clan forming a barrier between himself and Alfie, Skins' courage came back to him. Or maybe it was the booze. "Might wanna listen t' ye sibby, Alfie, less y' honest DO wanna see Gordy again."

In that one moment, any semblance of control Alphonse had over himself was gone. The scarred and haggard rat went into a frenzy, thrashing and heaving his limbs until he broke away from his two friends. He nearly barreled Terrence over, trying to get at Skins, eyes flashing and teeth bared. He was feral, primal, unable to see or hear anyone around him except the rat in front of him. The throng circling them let out a collective whoop from Skins' comment, knowing immediately that he'd said the wrong thing and all but cheering on Alfie's fury. The smaller rat clearly knew his mistake as well, and tried to step back, stopped only by Alfie grabbing him by the front of his tattered shirt, that muscled arm flexed hard. In the middle of it all was Terrence, doing his best to keep his brother from tearing the younger big-mouth in half. The others weren't helping, having stepped away as soon as Alfie broke free, their expressions saying that they had no sympathy for whatever happened to Skins now.

"Alfie!! ALFIE!!! Stop!" Terrence hollered at his older brother, words falling on deaf, tattered ears. His boots digging into the dirt, it took all Terrence had just to hold him at bay. Unfortunately, he knew that Alfie had far more size and strength than he did, and he couldn't hold him back forever.

Then, just as quickly, Terrence's barricade fell away. There was nothing in between Alfie and Skins, and the crowd was ready to get their show. Both of his hands on Alfie's wrist and still pulling away as best as he could, the smaller rat watched as Alphonse pulled his arm back, those tattooed knuckles ready to add another scar to their collection.

...but then, nothing.

Alfie let go of Skins' shirt, leaving the rat confused for a moment. He stepped back and watched as the huge rat stumbled a few steps, struggling. Then, Alphonse began to fade, and slowly collapsed to the ground... with Terrence on his back, his brother's legs wrapped around his waist and wiry arms clutched around his muscled neck. A second later, Alphonse Norwich IV was limp on the ground, eyes still open, snoring like a buzzsaw.

Panting, Terry stood back up and helped roll Alfie onto his back, the snore giving way to more regular breathing. He glared at Skins and the two flanking him.

"Get th' fuck outta 'ere," he said, cold and flat. The three didn't need a second command and quickly scurried away. Terrence turned back toward the two Biters who'd nearly let Alfie get blood on his paws when he was supposed to be celebrating. "An' you, go get Ollie. Need t' get 'im back to th' nest an' I can't carry 'im."

The crowd stared at the smaller Norwich, who was squatting down next to his brother and rubbing at his chest, looking apologetic for what he'd done. He saw their gaping and snorted. "Oi, g'wan 'en! Get y' pints an' 'ave a party! This ain't a show!"

A faint groan came from the bulky body on the ground, though still unconscious. It was a lucky shot Alfie had been as drunk as he was, he was just sleeping now.

"Oh hell, Alfie," Terrence said with a chuckle. "You are gonna have one whoppa of a headache t'morrow."

---

The next morning, Alphonse woke up on his mattress upstairs, feeling like someone had driven a spike through his head. He let out a deep, throaty moan and rolled onto his side, both roughened hands clasping over his eyes and forehead.

"Heh, sorry 'bout that, mate."

Without moving from his pathetic position, Alphonse croaked back. "Th' fuck didjoo do, eh?"

Terrence sat a glass of orange juice, real orange juice thanks to their uncle, on the floor next to Alfie. "Don't get all nipped at me, Alf. You's about t' rip 'at fella tips t' tail."

It took some effort, but Alfie managed to choke down the juice, rolling back onto his other side to get away from the sunlight pouring in through the curtain-less window. "Nng... shoulda jus' let me."

"Ah, don't think so, mate. Not the night 'fore you hop on a jet for America."

"But 'e said..."

Terrence cut him off. "I know what 'e said. But you got bigga things t' mind on. Like gettin' on a plane in two hours."

Turning, Alfie squinted blearily at his brother. "Two hour... oh fuck me sideways. I gotta get all m-"

"Y' bag's downstairs. Pip's got th' car warm an' ready. This is it, big brotha. You're goin' t' America. C'mon, up on y' paws."

Slowly, carefully, Alphonse hoisted himself up onto his feet and made unsteady steps down to the first floor of the house. Goodbyes had been made more formally the night before, but the family still wanted to have one last sending off for their brother before he went. There were hugs, some tears, and a few protests from those hoping he could change his mind and stay, but it was time for Alphonse Norwich IV to go.

Almost.

As he walked out of the front door of the house, Alfie nodded toward Philip. "Oi, Pip! Can... can y' give me a minute? Just gotta go talk t' someone."

Philip sighed. "I suppose, Alfie, but make it quicklike, eh? Plane's not gonna 'ang back just f' you."

Alphonse nodded. "Won't be but a quick bounce."

Walking as quickly as he could without breaking into a jog, the big rat made his way toward the park, then took a quick turn just before, walking along the sidewalk that made its perimeter. He passed up several old buildings before arriving at his destination, a boarded up corner shop. Up above the door, the outlines from a sign that was once there still left the ghosts of letters behind: NORWICH.

Alphonse looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was around, then began to run his hands over the boards over the doors and windows. He tapped here, and tugged there, before finding one over a window that was nailed in less carefully than the rest. Setting his bag down, the rat rocked that board side to side, carefully easing the nails loose, until the board came free and there was just enough of a space in the open window for him to crawl in through.

The heavy rat's boots landed with an echoing thump on the floor, dust unsettled and coming up in clouds. The stench of disrepair and abandonment filled his nostrils and made him cough. Even without the bread, the eggs, or the cash register set up, Alfie still felt somehow at home in the husk of what had been his family's shop. Now, the furniture was gone, the walls bare, a few wisps of graffiti on the walls that a few of the less respectful Alley rats had sprayed on before the family sealed up the doors and windows and the Biters gently explained why that building should be left alone. As he let his eyes dance from here to there, the past came up to greet the present, feeling as though it had just been the day before he'd come in with his bike, waiting for his dad to fill up the basket on its rear with food or medicine to deliver around the Alley.

He walked along the walls, fingers tapping over them. He stopped at a corner where a broom still sat, dustier and dirtier now than the floor it used to clean. With a faint chuckle, Alfie picked it up and swept a small area of the floor, remembering just how tall and awkward that broom felt when he was a pup, now awkward because he was forced to bend down to use it. A moment more of futile cleaning and he rested the wooden stick in its corner, head turning to look at the closed door on the wall opposite the entrance, behind the counter. He made his way over to it, hand wrapped around the knob. Turning it reminded him of the passage of years, it stuck in place and needed careful urging before it yielded and the tumblers inside turned.

With a deep breath, Alphonse went into his father's office.

A small, windowless room, Alfie flicked the switch on his right and was grateful to see that it worked. The overhead lamp flickered and buzzed, but cast a warm light on the office, its lone desk. The chair behind it where his father sat. Where his father...

Alfie swallowed and stepped further inside, letting the door close behind him. For a few moments he stood, unsure how to begin.

"Uh... hey, dad," the tall rat slowly spoke, looking at the old chair against the far wall. "It's, er... it's been a while, eh?" he said with a small laugh, though it didn't last long.

"I just... I just wanted t' say 'at... y'always told me you knew I'd be th' one t' carry on th' family business when you was gone an'... an' I never did, but..." he took another breath, having difficulty finding all the words he wanted. "I'm gonna take care of 'em, dad. Not just th' family, but everyone. I'm uh... I'm goin' t' America. Gonna play basketball in the big leagues. I got a contract f' four million dollars. I er, I dunno 'ow much that is in pounds, but I think it's a lot. I gotta go live in Hawaii f' a bit, but you'll see. We'll 'ave this ol' place up an' runnin' again right sharp. I just..."

Alphonse squeezed his eyes closed a moment, whole body tensing up. "I just wish I fucking knew WHY, dad?? We could 'ave made it through! I didn't 'ave t' be in school! I coulda stayed in th' shop at night so you could get y' sleep an' then you take 'er back in the morning! Just like you did wit' grandad!! Why'd you... why'd you have to leave us?? Why'd you leave ME?? What else could I 'ave done, dad??" He clenched his fists and kicked at the desk. sending it back into the chair. "SAY somethin' you fuckin' coward!!"

Dropping into a squat, Alphonse heaved his breaths, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He figured it must be the hangover mixed with the old stink of the dusty room. He pulled himelf to his feet again and wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, eyes on the mess he'd just made. Carefully, he put the desk back where it went, and the chair tucked in beneath it.

The rat stood back in the same spot, then, and took another breath. "You couldn't save 'is family or save 'is Alley, dad, but I can. An' I'll show you." He reached into his pocketwatch, holding it up, showing it. "Y'wanted me t' have this, eh? Nawh. Not yet. I'll let you 'ang onto it. I'll come back, put it in a basket I will, an' when I got this shop up and runnin', an' this Alley all a bustle, then I'll take it back."

With that, Alphonse tucked his father's watch into the desk drawer. The right one at the top, where he kept...

Philip drummed his fingers on the rusted roof of his car, impatient.

"Where'd he go, Pip?" Emma asked.

"Y'think 'e told me? Fuck's sake, f'all I know he we-"

"Oi, Pip! Y'done flappin' y' jaws? We got a flight to catch!"

"Fuck's sake, Alfie, was you off gettin' one last bit o' Alley tail or summat?"

Alphonse chuckled and opened the passenger door, climbing in. "Just 'ad one last g'bye, tha's all. C'mon 'en!"

Philip started the car up, and began the drive to Liverpool International, the Norwiches all gathered on the stoop to wave farewell at Alphonse Norwich IV, who waved back. He watched the Alley sink into the distance behind him. This time tomorrow he'd be meeting with coaches and managers, having a phone conference with his agent, halfway across the world from Toxteth. Not just a weekend visit, a quick trip to meet with a suit before sweeping back to tell everyone about how crazy the States are. He put his head against the window and looked at the cracked side mirror, seeing the last hints of Rat Alley vanish. A rat leaving the Alley, he'd have never thought it possible. But he'd be back. He'd be back.