A/N: So here's Part 2. It's became a little more spoilery after editing, so you've been warned. I'm pleasantly surprised by how many hits the first chapter got, so thank you to all who took the time to click on this story ^^ I would really like to know what you all think (and I do appreciate criticism, and grammar policing (I can't catch everything)) so if you have a minute, please leave a review.

Incidentally, I finished reading RoF's namesake this morning, and I finally get how Asimov's The End of Eternity applies to this game. This really opens up so many possibilities for RoF stories, and is a really good book in general, so I strongly recommend it.

Part 2: -Vashyron-

Vashyron let out a loud groan as the world around him came into focus. The pounding in his head had settled into a quiet dull ache as opposed to loud painful nauseating banging of the morning, but it just wasn't clearing away. Until his employees walked through the door announcing the completion of their job, he supposed it would never go away. A glance at the clock said it almost dinner time. Provided everything was going well, they were probably reporting to the voluptuous Barbarella now, and would be home within the hour.

But who was he kidding? From the moment the two kids set out, a persistent feeling that the disaster was only a few levels down had crept inside his head intensifying the pain. He had really been opposed to their taking the job without him. He said so in no uncertain terms. Repeatedly. Unfortunately, there were too many factors working against him.

The first and most prominent, was Zephyr, who was just an ass when he wanted to be and loudly protested Vashyron's orders (and Leanne's quieter, but still too damn loud scolding for Zephyr to shut up didn't help). It was clear to Vashyron that if he wanted any peace and quiet for his headache, he would need Zephyr out of the house. (Preferably with Leanne, if only because Vashyron didn't particularly care for her inevitable hovering but didn't want to hurt her feelings. He did appreciate her concern and kindness, especially against Zephyr's antagonism, but he took care of himself. Always had, always would.) His first order had been for Zephyr and Leanne to take on some other mission. A quick trip to the guild revealed that the only jobs available were trivial deliveries up that, in Zephyr's words, "paid peanuts." Even though Leanne seemed perfectly fine with those, and had tried her best to convince Zephyr otherwise, his stubborn mind was made up, and he was not going to be some errand boy. Jobs that didn't require shooting stuff bored Zephyr (they bored Vashyron a bit too, but he definitely preferred them to killing).

Vashyron had then tried to steer him to the arena ("You'll get to shoot stuff there as much as you want") but then the other factor working against him kicked in. The job request was from Barbarella, who, as Zephyr gleefully reminded, was still miffed about his switching the wine labels. Vashyron had worked too hard to establish his credibility with the Cardinals and that one incident had proven to be enough of a blow to his reputation. If Barbarella was personally calling on him of all people to take on a job, he was in a really bad position to refuse.

And then, of course, came the inevitable "I'll prove myself to you" from Zephyr. He knew it was coming and he knew then and there that Zephyr was going to Silver Canyon regardless of what anyone said. If Vashyron had been feeling better, he would have knocked Zephyr down a few pegs, but he had been barely able to open his eyes, let alone sit up. So he had been forced to play damage control and put Leanne in charge of the mission.

Vashyron cared about Zephyr, he really did. He did adopt the kid as a partner despite his past, but he just didn't trust Zephyr alone on a job. The kid was prone to recklessness (and Level 7 was definitely a dangerous place for his stability) and Vashyron highly doubted there would be a Silver Canyon if Zephyr had been set free there with a gun and a bunch of rebels. The kid needed to be on a leash; one that was long enough for him to run around and have his fun, but short enough to be effectively yanked back before he did something stupid. Leanne would have to do in this case.

Everyone could see the effect the young woman had on Zephyr. She was definitely the one person that Zephyr consistently showed compassion for, and Vashyron, a firm believer in positive reinforcement, was not above using Leanne to keep him grounded. Zephyr didn't really care what Vashyron thought of him, but he did care about Leanne's thoughts. He was also very protective of her. Exposing her to a little danger was the most effective way to get Zephyr to stop screwing with enemies, and start taking them out.

Vashyron did worry about sending Leanne to Silver Canyon too of course. Responsible as she was, she wasn't a former soldier or an enhanced human, and he didn't like putting her in harm's way. He didn't fancy her getting sick from Level 7's harsh climate again either. But if Zephyr was going to insist on taking the job, Leanne was coming along. That was a direct order.

He had given them all the advice he could, put all his faith in their skills, but he was still worried. Even though he spent most of the day sleeping off his migraine, the time could not go by any slower. There were so many disastrous scenarios that could have occurred, that every time he awoke, in varying levels of pain, Vashyron was seriously tempted to put on his snow gear and go down to Level 7.

Now the headache was finally down to a manageable level, but it was too late to go catch up to them. If they weren't done yet, they had to be mostly done, since it wasn't likely that either of them wanted to be on Level 7 when the sun went down and the temperature dropped even further.

Waiting around was a terrible thing. Vashyron was glad that he could finally move around pain-free since it gave him the freedom to pace around the living room. So many times his eyes drifted to his beloved cabinet but the unpleasant reminder that the pills he took hadn't worn off yet kept the urges at bay. He didn't feel like spending another day with a headache either, especially when this one was proving to be a nightmare.

As the time refused to go by quicker, Vashyron settled on switching on the television. If nothing else, perhaps an enticing scene about to get really enticing would spur his protégés home faster, if only to interrupt him. After flipping through the ten or so channels, he finally settled on what seemed like a typical nighttime soap opera, about the drama that plagued a typical Chandelier family. It wasn't his ideal entertainment, but he did like the naivety of shows like this. It was comforting that there were people, even if they were fictional, who could live unaffected by the problems of the lower levels and Basel as a whole. It was also kinda nice that he could watch this cheesy stuff without Zephyr getting angry and Leanne getting depressed…could they hurry up and interrupt him already?

Vashyron heard them coming before they even reached Sweet Home. The eldest daughter was just about to announce her elopement to the young merchant of Ebel to her family, when that cold sinking feeling returned. Somehow he could sense that Zephyr and Leanne were close, and in trouble. He had developed a sixth sense for that long ago (he always, always knew when one of them was awake in the middle of the night because of bad dreams) but it had never hit him so strongly. He turned off the TV. The smell of burnt flesh entered his nostrils just as the front door opened and he took in the full sight of his employees.

Leanne was shaking, pale and frantic. Her clothes were wet and dirty, there was a large bruise on her right temple, numerous small cuts and her makeup was ruined. Tears were still streaming down her face and her breathing was hitched. She was the good half of the pair. Zephyr's appearance was the real problem.

He was hunched over, one arm around Leanne for support (with her doing her best to hold him up) and the other hand holding a wet handkerchief over his eyes. Like Leanne, his clothes were a wet mess, and there were numerous cuts on his body, including a large gash on his shoulder and a bleeding lip, but it was the handkerchief that alarmed Vashyron. Even from his position, he could see red splotches around Zephyr's eyes.

Oh yeah. This was really bad.

"What happened?" he demanded, moving to take Zephyr from Leanne, and to the couch for immediate treatment. Leanne let him take him and began rapidly saying so many things at once that Vashyron was only able to glean a few key works. But the words he did hear,

"Crate. Gunpowder. Explosion. Blind,"

Told him all he needed to know.

"I'll take him to wash his eyes out. Leanne, get out of those wet clothes and bring up the first aid kit to his room," he ordered, dropping all pretense of a bedside manner. He had to work fast, and he would need maximum cooperation and minimum crying. Zephyr was like a limp rag doll in his arms, letting himself get dragged to the kitchen sink, and that worried Vashyron even more than the blinding injury. If he wasn't protesting or complaining, then it was clear that he was in a lot of pain, and his rapid uneven breathing revealed that he was teetering on the edge of panic. Panic was the last thing any of them needed right now.

Zephyr didn't take to the water well. As soon as Vashyron moved to take the cloth he held to his eyes, Zephyr screamed. His voice was raspy, telling Vashyron that he had been screaming in pain before, but he could deal with it. Leanne had momentarily frozen when he cried out, but recovered quickly enough, which made Vashyron briefly wonder how she had dragged Zephyr back all the way from Silver Canyon, with a hint of awe. He would get the full story later. Right now, he had other priorities.

"Zephyr, you have to wash your eyes out. This is going to hurt, but you're going to have to bear it. Are you going to do it or am I?" He turned on the water and let it run giving Zephyr a moment to decide before the teen shakily ran his hand under it and pressed the wet palm to his eyes. Very slowly. Vashyron sighed and pushed Zephyr closer to the sink and began scrubbing his eyes with the cold water himself. He tried to be gentle but he could only imagine the sort of pain that accompanied cold water on retina burns as Zephyr cursed and struggled under his tight grip. Vashyron was nothing if not thorough. He calmly and rationally explained to Zephyr that he had to get out any residue gunpowder or foreign objects that could have entered his eyes in the split second of the explosion. He added that there was no shame in crying or screaming, which Zephyr must have heard since he was quite loud and colorful in his attempts to get free.

Vashyron kept scrubbing for a good ten minutes, during which Zephyr attempted to punch him, bite him, and kick him none of which he actually had the strength (or accuracy) for. He finally pushed away when the water was turned off leaning against the wall and covering his eyes with his cold soaked sleeve. Vashyron sighed and reached for the handkerchief (which he noticed Leanne had filled with snow, some of which had yet to melt), handing it back to Zephyr, who just let out a strangled groan and replaced his sleeve with it. His breath was getting shallower, and his shivering worse.

"Get up," Vashyron ordered, "I'll take you to your room." Zephyr didn't protest this and stumbled along, even letting Vashyron guide him up the stairs. That had gone well. The next step didn't.

Vashyron's first order of business after setting Zephyr on his bed was to strip the teen out of his wet clothes and assess the entirety of the damage for himself. It had not been easy since Zephyr violently refused to remove the handkerchief from his eyes a second time, thus making it difficult to take his jacket and shirt off. The ensuing struggle wore on Vashyron's already thin patience, but he was finally able to get Zephyr to cooperate by keeping the cold cloth pressed himself while Zephyr clumsily undressed himself.

The other wounds he had sustained really were all small and insignificant, and even the large gash had closed on its own (though Vashyron made a mental note to put a disinfectant on it later, just in case). Leanne had stood frozen with the first aid kit, now dressed in her pig shirt, and was frantically assuring Zephyr that he would be alright. Vashyron held back pointing out that it was hard to be reassuring when the one talking was clearly panicking herself. He rummaged through their supplies, pulling out bandages, cooling salves, and everything that looked like it would be useful.

"Leanne, be quiet for a minute will you?" he snapped, shutting her up and causing Zephyr to tense in his hold. He didn't say anything but the implication was clear. Forcing himself to calm down, Vashyron began again, "Zephyr, I just want to see your eyes. I'll judge if you're okay. Leanne's my witness," he looked at her and she nodded, before amending her nod into a vocal "yes." "There is nothing in my hand right now. I'm just going to look. On the count of three, remove the cloth, okay? One…two…" The moment he said three, he yanked Zephyr's wrist, quickly snatching the wet cloth and passing it to Leanne with a sharp "hold that," as Zephyr blindly grasped at the air trying to get it back.

"Hold still," Vashyron grabbed his chin to try and steady him as Leanne nervously reached out, unsure if she should help restrain him. From what Vashyron could see, the damage to Zephyr's eyes was mostly superficial. The skin around them was burned, but not too badly. His eyes were closed, despite Vashyron's prodding him to open them.

"He opened them for a few seconds back at the Canyon but he said it was dark," Leanne explained. That didn't tell him anything.

"Zephyr, I can't help you if you don't cooperate with me. You have to open your eyes so I can see how you react to light. Just five seconds, you can do it." Zephyr muttered something under his breath, but he complied, his blue eyes staring directly into Vashyron's eyes, yet not actually looking at them. No reaction to the light at all. But aside from the redness that was likely from the earlier scrubbing, they didn't look damaged. Vashyron let out the breath he was holding.

"Okay, this doesn't look as bad as I thought," he said calmly, "Most likely this is just a bad case of flash blindness from being so close to the explosion when it went off."

"It hurts," Zephyr scowled, just loud enough for Vashyron to hear him. He didn't sound too panicky anymore, which was a good sign. His breathing was slowly starting to even out too. He would be fine.

"Are you sure?" Leanne asked clutching the handkerchief.

"No, I'm not," Vashyron admitted, "I'll take him to a doctor in the morning, but for now it seems that the damage looks worse than it is. The blindness shouldn't last more than a few days."

"He was in so much pain though."

"Yeah, eye injuries are like that. Zephyr, I'm going to apply a cooling salve around your eyes and then bandage them."

"I'll do it," he muttered.

"No, you won't," Vashyron quipped, grateful that Zephyr just left it at that. "Now, Leanne, I'm sure you've calmed down enough. Start from the beginning. What happened?"

As Vashyron slowly rubbed the cooling salve around Zephyr's eyes, Leanne recounted their adventure, much slower this time. Vashyron listened closely, commenting on occasion but for the most part just focusing on his patient. For the most part there wasn't anything in Leanne's account that he would done differently, including setting the camera off by mistake. Even though that detail did irritate him, all it did was start the battle earlier than it should have. It wasn't until she got to the part when Zephyr approached the crate that he interrupted.

"Why didn't you check the corpses first?" he demanded angrily.

"I-I was!" Leanne stuttered.

"Not you, Zephyr. How many times have I told you to always check for life before doing anything?"

"Shut up," Zephyr hissed.

"No, I won't shut up. I've said it a thousand times. The body you don't check is the one that shoots you in the back. Or in your case, detonates a crate of gunpowder while you're standing next to it. Do you ever think before you act?"

"V-Vash—

"I get it. I messed up," Zephyr snapped, flinching slightly and reaching for his eyes only for Vashyron to smack his hand away.

"I don't think you do. You're like a goddamn infant. If I'm not there watching your ass every second, shit like this happens."

"Um…"

"Well you weren't there, were you?" Zephyr was getting louder. He swatted Vashyron's hand away and forced his eyes open briefly. "You weren't there because you were busy nursing a hangover. Some responsible adult you are!"

"Watch your mouth Zephyr," Vashyron warned him as he reached for the bandages, "I told you a dozen times not to take this job. You insisted that you could do it, and I placed my trust in you. My mistake."

"Guys please—

"I did the job. The rebels are gone, and their stores in the Silver Canyon are history."

"Yeah, along with the entrance to the chemist's closet, the evidence you were supposed to bring, and your eyesight."

"You said this was temporary."

"I said it was most likely temporary. Learn to listen, damn it!"

"I am listening!"

"Are you? Could've fooled me."

"Shut up!"

"Zephyr! Vashyron!"

"No, you are going to listen whether you want to hear it or not. Never mind for a second that you messed up the job you were so insistent on taking, which is a whole other story. When are you going to learn to take care of yourself? Just because you can shake off most things easily doesn't mean you're invincible. You and Leanne could have both been killed in that blast!" He could hear Leanne let out an angry huff and storm out of the room, but he ignored it.

"You'd like that wouldn't you," Zephyr's voice had an icy glee in it, "Then you could go back to drinking all you want and sleeping with every woman in Basel." Vashyron froze for a second mid-wrap and gave Zephyr a hard look, forgetting for a minute that Zephyr couldn't actually see it.

"Zephyr," he replied evenly, "I get that you are in a lot of pain right now. So I'm going to give you a fair warning to stop before you say something you will regret."

"No, I'm not going to stop. You are a drunkard and a womanizer. You don't care about me and Leanne at all. You only keep us around because you can take on better paying jobs to pay for your pleasures."

"Zephyr—

"That mess with Barbarella? You just couldn't resist stealing her vintage wine. I'm sure it was worth it when that damn swill kept you from taking on that woman's next assignment."

"For the last time—

"You weren't hungover?" Zephyr sneered, "Don't feed me that bull. I could hear you opening your cabinet in the middle of the night and pouring a glass. And this morning, I could see that that bottle was nearly empty. And my nose is sharper than yours. I recognize thinly concealed alcohol when I smell it." Vashyron thought he heard Leanne climb back up the stairs but he was too focused on not punching out a blind kid so he ignored it. He just needed to finish bandaging Zephyr's eyes and get out as fast as possible. This wasn't going to end well and he could feel his headache resurface with vengeance. Provoking Zephyr in that weakened frightened state hadn't been a good idea. Pain just shot reason to hell.

"You know what!" Zephyr shoved Vashyron away as soon as the bandage was secure. "I hope this is permanent. Because I never want to see your face again!"

There it was. He knew that final punch was coming, but it stung all the same. Before he could reply though, a voice behind him spoke up. Loudly.

"SHUT UP ALREADY, YOU STUPID IDIOTS!"

And was promptly followed by the sound of two metal pans being smacked together repeatedly like cymbals, as loudly as possible. Vashyron jumped around startled and Zephyr recoiled clutching his ears. In the doorway stood Leanne, a frying pan in her left hand, and a small pot in her right. Fresh tears were again flowing from her eyes as she glared at the two of them, shaking in barely repressed fury. Well, she definitely had their attention now.

"I can't believe you two! You!" she pointed the frying pan at Vashyron. "I get that we messed up badly and you were worried. But there is a time and place for going over our mistakes and that time isn't now!" Then she turned the pan towards Zephyr. Somehow he realized he was being addressed from that gesture alone.

"And as for you! I'm sorry that you were hurt. If I had shot that guy dead the first time this wouldn't have happened, so if you really want to blame someone, blame me! But I think both of you idiots need to realize that this. Was. An. Accident. It could have happened even if Vashyron was there, so grow up already!" For a crying woman wielding kitchenware in a pig shirt, she managed to sound very threatening. Vashyron was impressed.

Leanne glared at them for a few more seconds, letting the words sink in, before she stomped out of the room slamming the door behind her. Vashyron and Zephyr just listened in stunned silence as the sound of heels heading downstairs was followed by the clanging of pans being thrown onto the counter and then further followed by the slamming of the front door. For a few moments, they stood frozen as though they expected Leanne to return. She had every right to be upset. It had been a long hard day for everyone that had just culminated into a disaster of epic proportions. They never fought like that. They argued, sure, and Zephyr could be very aggressive when in a bad mood, but aside for the day Vashyron knew to leave him alone, he always avoided crossing any unspoken lines, even at his worst.

He glanced over at Zephyr who had completely retreated into the comfort of his bed, curling into a ball under his blanket, facing the wall. Vashyron sighed and picked up the first aid kit. He took out a few things and set them on the nightstand. "I'm leaving you a painkiller on the counter. I know you can dry swallow pills so just take it. Also I'm putting an antibiotic cream for your arm. Apply it yourself," he explained quietly not looking at Zephyr, "Just go to sleep, okay? And don't pick at the bandage." Zephyr moaned in acknowledgement but made no move to touch the medicine. Whatever. Vashyron knew he would take it when the pain got too bad.

Unlike Leanne who slammed the door when she left, Vashyron opted to just quietly close it. Yes, he was angry too, but he was too exhausted to fight anymore. As soon as he came downstairs, he took note that Leanne's coat was gone, but he wasn't worried. She would go cool off her head and come back when she was tired. Vashyron reached for the lock on his liquor cabinet and had just unlocked it when Zephyr's words echoed in his head. Words that were said in pain and fear; words that Zephyr would later give him a shy meek look for in place of an apology, but true words nonetheless. He shut the lock. The painkiller he took had probably worn off already but why risk it?

His hands were shaking. He really let Zephyr get to him. The teen often said things without thinking, and Vashyron had been insulted by him so many times that he had learned to take Zephyr's words as terms of endearment rather than actual insults, because most the time, that was what they actually were. This time though, there was no reinterpreting anything. Zephyr had meant it as he said it, and he was right. About some things.

Vashyron shouldn't have let them take the job. And he should have been there been with them. Those kids were his responsibility and he wouldn't have traded them for all the booze and women in Basel. Vashyron liked to think he drank responsibly, but this time he did let the liquor interfere with his job. The side effects left him hot tempered and impatient. He made Leanne cry and pushed Zephyr over the edge. He recalled Zephyr's pained cries when he was washing out his eyes. Vashyron didn't even care. He didn't try to be reassuring at all. He only did what he had to do with no regard for Zephyr's comfort or fear at all. Zephyr wasn't an experienced soldier on the battlefield. At that moment he hadn't even been a repentant murderer. He was a troubled teenager who had been blinded.

Vashyron gave one last long look at his cabinet before sighing and grabbing the phone. He dialed the only number he knew by heart and when the recipient answered said,

"Good evening, this is Vashyron. I'm sorry to call you at this hour…No, actually I'm not alright. There was an accident and I just really need some company. Can we please meet? Thank you, I'll be right up." He set down the phone, thanking some deity for the larger fortunes in his life. He grabbed his coat off the couch and left.

He was going to Chandelier.

Parts 3 and 4 may be a little delayed because I'm leaving for Europe in August and they need a lot of editing. I'll try to get at least Part 3 up before the end of the month though.