unspeakable act of evil by sabotaging his own team and condemning dozens of innocent children to die, just to satisfy a petty grudge. He not only almost committed homicide, but genocide as well. He deserved everything he had gotten.

Ever since he had started picking on Balto as a pup, he had been planting the seeds for his own downfall. Especially considering the real reason he had been so hell-bent on destroying his rival.

So Steele was a much different dog now than he was then. In a way, losing his job, his life, and his friends had been the best thing that ever happened to him, since it gave him a much-needed dose of humility. And that humility showed today, when instead of walking down Front Street with his held high like he owned the place, he kept his eyes and face low to the ground, avoiding the hateful stares of all the dogs who had once worshipped the ground he walked on.

In the fact the only time he bucked up the nerve to look up was when one of those dogs started screaming. “Dear lord!”, a woman exclaimed.

Intrigued, Steele looked all around the street, and noticed a crowd of dogs hovering outside the butcher’s shop. What could be happening there that would be so alarming? Besides all the slaughtering anyway (which Jim did every day).

He had to know what all the fuss was about, so against his better judgment he stepped in the crowd. Luckily, none of the dogs seemed to notice him, since they were all too busy looking at something in the sky.

“Is he?!”, another mutt, this one a male, yelled.

Steele followed their gaze and, ignoring the sun’s bright glare, focused in on a brown dot standing on top of the building. Steele’s stomach lurched, when he realized that dot was a living person. Well, a living dog. Someone who was standing precariously on the ledge, almost as if he was about to…

“I think he’s going to jump”, the woman from earlier said, terrified. And for a good reason.

But her fear was nothing compared to the horror Steele was experiencing. Because even though he was high up, standing a good three or four stories above Steele and the others’ heads, Steele would recognize that pooch anywhere. Scruff brown fur, big bushy tail, honey yellow eyes, all those features belonged to only one dog in Nome, Alaska. “Balto”, he thought.

((()-()))

Sure enough Balto was the one standing on the edge of the butcher’s shop, staring down at the horrified town dogs and grinning a little in amusement when he noticed just how much they all looked like ants from this height.

It only seemed fitting he would choose this building. For all five years of his stray life he had snuck into the alley behind Jim’s place, raiding the trash cans for any scraps he might have thrown away to supplement his hunger. This was the place he had always gone to for food, filling his belly so he could keep living his lonely life. Now it was the place he was finally going end it. And he would have done by now if it wasn’t for his accursed instincts.

The instinct of self-preservation was what was keeping him from jumping off the ledge right now and splattering his blood all over the snow. As much he wanted to do this and get it over with, there was another side of him screaming at his suicidal half to wait and find another way, even though he knew there wasn’t one.

“What in god’s name do you think you’re doing?!”, someone snarled.

Balto didn’t look behind him. He already knew who it was; he had heard the voice so many times he knew it by hard. Instead he kept his back turned to Steele, and continued to look down at the street below. “It’s called suicide; it’s a quick and relatively painless way to die. I hear it’s something people in New York do quite often, but only when they’ve hit rock bottom like I have”, he said, eerily calm for a guy about to kill himself.

“So you’re gonna jump off a building?”, Steele asked him in disbelief. He wanted to walk right up to the half-breed and punch him in the face for being so insane. But he held back, afraid that any sudden movements would take Balto off guard and send him plunging off the side of the roof.

“Until Jenna left I didn’t realize how much I’d grown tired of my life. It never changes and it never gets any better. Everyone else moves on, while mine always stays the same. And things will keep on staying the same until the day I die, so I’m only speeding things up”, Balto replied.

Steele’s mouth hung open. Balto really meant what he was saying. “But…but if you wanna change things, why not just go join your wild kin in the forest?”, the malamute stuttered, scrambling for another solution.

The half-breed raised his eyebrow. Steele had always yelled at him and told to go live with his kind, but this time he really seemed to mean his suggestion. However, Balto just scoffed at it. “The nearby packs won’t accept me for the same reason you wouldn’t. I’m a half-breed. No one would trust a wolf who’s half-dog, just like how people won’t trust a dog who’s half wolf. I’m stuck here, for the rest of my life, and that’s why I’m going to cut it short”, the wolf-dog explained.

Steele scowled and stepped a little closer to his rival’s perch. “Balto, I’m not gonna let you kill yourself”, he growled.

Balto knew this was a warning for him to get down before the malamute made him come down, not that Steele’s threat had any effect on him. He may have been scared of his former bully before, he wasn’t anymore. Because he was the one holding all the cards today, and the decision to jump was his’.

“Smith’s Choice” by Murray Gold begins.

Balto ignored him, and turned his head back towards the street again. “You know I’m surprised you care Steele. I thought you’d be happy to be see my off myself. Considering how I ‘ruined your life’ and all”, he said sardonically.

Steele’s scowl softened, and the malamute hung his head down slightly. “You didn’t ruin my life Balto, I did it by being such a selfish glory hound”, he admitted.

“Oh, so you’re just realizing this now? It’s a bit late for humbleness Steele. You always wanted me gone, and now you’re about to get your wish”, he sneered.

Steele had never seen Balto this cold or vicious before. The half-breed, even when he was angry, always seemed so passionate and emotional. But today he was so distant, almost like a shell of his former self, toeing the line between life and death. And nothing Steele was telling him was having any effect of bringing him back down. In fact, Balto seemed to be edging further and further towards the spot where the roof ended. He had to stop him, at whatever costs.

“Balto I’m sorry for everything I did to you, especially since I never even really hated you!”, Steele shouted desperately. And by some miracle, his outcry stopped Balto in his tracks.

The hybrid, who had obviously not been expecting that, turned around and scowled at the malamute with a look of cynicism. “What?”, he asked.

Steele had done it. He had got Balto to stop and listen, if only for a moment. But he had also boxed himself into a corner. By admitting some of the truth to the half-breed, he had let him catch onto a well-kept secret that he had himself had denied until just a few months ago. He didn’t know how he was gonna bring himself to admit the shameful, sinful truth. But if he didn’t, he would lose Balto. And if that happened he would have to live with the guilt of watching him die, and knowing he could have saved him but was too much of a coward to do so. So Steele swallowed his fear, and moved even closer to Balto, stopping at the ledge.

Steele raised his head, and as bravely as he could, did what he had promised himself he would never do. “That’s right wolf-dog, I never really hated you. In fact, ever since the day we met, I’ve always been…attracted to you”, he finally confessed.

If looks could kill, Steele would have burst into flames from the cold hard glare Balto was giving him. “What?”, he repeated, teeth gritted.

“I said I’m attracted to you Balto. I’m gay”, the malamute admitted.

Balto scoffed. “Do you really expect me to believe that, you, of all people, is attracted to me?”, Balto replied.

“Yes”, Steele replied.

Balto didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t turn away either. He kept direct eye contact with Steele, and the purebred realized he was studying him, trying to see whether or not he was telling the truth.

“Even if that was true, and you did have feelings for me, then why would you treat me the way you did? Why were you always picking on me?”, Balto demanded, deciding to humor his old rival.

“Balto you of all people know what this town is like. I was a champion, a top-notch sled dog with a career and a reputation, I couldn’t be gay. Being gay would have destroyed all that”, Steele explained. How ironic was it that it still happened anyway? “So I did what society insisted I do, shun you. I treated you