Okay welcome back! This bit covers the morning after Vashyron brings Zephyr home for the first time. Because they never explained any of this in the plotline of RoF it gave me lots of room to make up my own stuff! We get to see a little more of Vasheron's serious side and a bit of his comical side too this time. If you have skipped straight here without reading the first chapter you should be okay by filling in some of the reference gaps with guesswork without having to read it if you don't want to. Enjoy ~

Resonance of Fate characters belong to their respective owners.

Scratch that, he was no madman. He was a raving lunatic. Vashyron stared down at the young figure lying on his couch. At first he had planned on pawning the kid off somewhere, but the Cardinal's words had at least some truth backing them. It wasn't like he could go and drop this kid in an orphanage somewhere and it was even less of an option to leave someone this dangerous on the streets. At the same time…

The blonde looked around the crudely decorated building he had come to call home. It wasn't much but it was his own personal, private space; he liked it the way it was. And now he had brought home a rabid stray to sleep at the end of his bed and eat the same food from the same table as himself. Oh this was a well thought out plan wasn't it?

He sighed and dropped himself onto the coffee table across from the temporary bed of his new pet, leaning his tired head against his palm. It was nearly morning already, rays of sunshine warming the cool room and giving the scene a sort of surreal look. The sunlight reflected off of the feathery, golden hair that lined the boy's face. If he had not seen the carnage himself, or if he had not seen the way animal-like way this thing moved during their earlier fight, then he would have thought him no different than any other boy his age. It was hard enough even believing this child was capable of doing what he did even though he had seen it.

Vashyron yawned, his jaw cracking with relief. Well, no point in worrying about it now. Besides, he had much more to worry about then the whys and the hows, it was too much thinking to do all in one night. Things like what exactly he was planning to do from here on, or even what he was going to do when the boy woke were of a much higher priority. A shower, or a bath first most likely, he decided. Both of them were covered in blood, sweat and grime, and his muscles were stiff from carrying that little body all the way here. He was definitely heavier than Vashyron would have guessed him to be. And then both of them were very tired, having not slept for a decent amount of time thanks to having to take nearly the entire night to locate this kid. As the room warmed, Vashyron's eyelids drooped. His brown eyes watched his newly found companion for any kind of movement, his senses dulled with sleeplessness but always alert.

He was not sure at which point he had fallen asleep, but the soft sound of movement on the couch dragged his conciseness from the darkness with a jolt. The sudden movement spooked the blurry shape on the couch, and it pounced - literally pounced, like a cat – right at him. Instinctively, in his groggy state, his hand went to the holster at his hip. He swore to himself. That bastard Lagerfeld still had his pistol. The boy crashed into Vashyron and the two fell backwards, flipping the coffee table and landing in a heap. It was a mess of arms, legs, and scattered sheets of paper as they fought to pin the other down first. Vashyron hissed when his shin banged against the corner of the overturned wood furniture, but summoned enough strength to push the kid away from him and leap to his feet.

He made a break for the desk in the corner of the room, next to the stairs, grabbed and spun with his spare pistol in his hand pointed at the boy.

"Okay stop moving around or get a bullet in your head, what's it going to be?"

Luckily, the young blonde saw reason and didn't come charging at him, instead choosing to freeze midstride and slam his foot down to stop himself from toppling over. His back was to Vashyron, so he hadn't been chasing after him in a fit of an attempt to kill the man after all. He was however, facing the door, mere feet from it in fact. Had he been trying to escape?

"Look just turn around, sit back down on the couch, and we can talk about this like civilized men having a nice chat over tea."

The boy turned, his blue eyes narrowed in a deadly glare.

"Why should I do that?"

"Oh so you can talk, I wasn't sure with all the growling and the-"

"You're trying to kill me." he barked back.

Vashyron held up his free hand in defense.

"Correction, I thought I did kill you. But then you pulled some magical voodoo shit and came back to life. Maybe you can explain that first."

The stray blinked, his eyes which had been scanning the room until now, probably looking for cover to duck behind in case he fired or a safer escape route, stopped and focused on Vashyron.

"I what?"

"You heard me. I put a gun in your mouth, shot you," he made a make-believe gun with his free hand, snapping it a couple of times as if firing rounds, "twice in fact, and now here you are in my living room healthy and very much alive. Explain."

The glare hardened, the boy practically growled and he took a step back, towards the door.

"You are lying."

"I'm not-"

"You are! Your job is to kill me, you get paid then right? Or do you need me alive?"

Vashyron shot an annoyed look at the boy. This was going nowhere. He sighed, running a hand through the hair which hung in his eyes thanks to the lack of ponytail to hold it back, and smiled.

"All right, if it makes you feel any better I'll lower my gun, hell I'll even back off with the interrogation. But you should know if you run, I'll shoot you. And if you attack me, I'll shoot you. Basically, if you do anything suspicious at all, I'll shoot you. Got it?"

After a few seconds of silence, something in the boy gave in and his shoulder slumped, his voice hoarse and much quieter now.

"Whatever."

He lowered the gun, watching the kid for any kind of sign that he was going to attack him or bolt. If he did manage to escape, Vashyron would just hunt him down and kill him. This was his responsibility now, the stray dog he took in himself and decided to look after. If this guy got out and murdered anyone else their blood would be on his hands for letting the boy live. Once more, he patted himself on the back for his stunning ability to come up with the most reliable and well thought-out plans.

"Alright then, I'm going to take a shower. You, sit down and make yourself comfortable, you're going to be here for a while."

Okay so yeah, I think I may have gone a bit too out of ooc here... but if it's too big of a problem please tell me how it can be fixed not just that it sucks. The next chapter is about how Vashyron started to trust Zephyr, it's yet another way out there guess on the situation.