Alright, I really wanted to update this fic, cause I need to have it done by spring break, otherwise I'm a failure... Okay, seriously, I wanted to update. I just finished typing it up and haven't done a really thourough typo/grammer check. I'm sorry for that. If you find a sentance that doesn't make sense or a really blatant typo or something, just give me a shout and I'll fix it. It's a bit darker now, a bit more of a familiar ground for me.

Erol and Torn are Naughty Dogs. Everyone else is mine.

The next day started off like always, with Buir heading off to work, leaving Sola and Erol for the day.

"Bye, Dad!" Erol called cheerily, waving at his father on the front landing.

"See you, Erol!" Buir replied giving his son a quick wave back before turning to his wife. "Bye, Sola, see you later."

She nodded and straightened his tie, "Try and take it easy today, okay, honey?"

He kissed her, "I will."

"Alright, I love you," Sola replied.

"I love you too." And with that Buir opened the front door and left. Sola sighed, watching him leave before casting a glance back at her son. Luckily for Erol, her distraction had given him time to compose himself after making gagging faces at his parents' actions. By the time Sola had focused on him he had a broad grin instead.

"What are you up to?" Sola asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing."

"Is that so?"

Erol nodded enthusiastically, "Yep."

She didn't buy it; she knew Erol too well and was sure that he'd just been doing something, but had no idea what. She shrugged, deciding just to drop it. "What time are you supposed to be at Torn's?"

"Ten-ish, I think," He gave a nonchalant shrug. It was still a couple hours away, a fact he was well aware of. There was silence for a moment, before Erol broke it, "I'm hungry."

Sola laughed, "You know where the kitchen is."

He fixed her with a flat stare that obviously said 'Yeah, so what?'

"Well, go on, you can get yourself breakfast," she gave him a gentle shove in the direction of the kitchen, "I'm not always going to be around to do it for you."

He stood looking at her defiantly.

"Okay then, I guess you're not that hungry."

"Fine, I'm going, I'm going."

Five minutes later Erol was in the kitchen happily gnawing on some toast. Sola was washing the dishes from her and Buir's morning meals. Setting the last plate on the drying rack she glanced at Erol before opening a cupboard to get out a glass. She filled it with milk and set it in front of her son.

"Ew!" Erol turned his brown eyes up to look at her incredulously, "Milk?" He made a gagging face.

"Drink it."

"No." He reached out and, touching as little of the glass as he could, pushed it away. Once the foul beverage was as far away from him as he could get it, Erol went back to his toast.

Sola slid it back, "Yes. I'm going to check for mail, I want it gone by the time I'm back."

Erol glared at her; that was a tall order. How long did she expect to be checking the mail? Their mailbox was just outside the front door. The moment she left the kitchen he got up, taking the milk over to the sink. Casting a wary glance at the kitchen entrance he upended the glass into the drain. He turned on a trickle of water and quickly rinsed away all traces of the vile white liquid. He then returned to the table to finish his breakfast.

Sola stood in the entranceway, the front door still open, staring at the mail in her hand. There were a couple bills and an envelope addressed to her, there was no return address. Sticking the bills in her pocket she turned the mysterious letter over and, with trembling fingers, proceeded to open it. It contained a single white piece of paper; three words were scrawled across it in a rusty red: Time's up, Sola.

"No," she muttered; her hand holding the paper shook violently and it slipped from her fingers, floating to the floor.

"Mom?"

Sola jumped at the sound of Erol's voice. He'd come from the kitchen after realizing his mother was taking an abnormally long time to check the mail.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

She had gone white and her brown eyes stared at her son without recognition. Utter terror marked her face.

Erol stepped backwards, "Mom?" he repeated, "Mom, you're scaring me." He noticed the paper on the floor, "What's that?" he asked pointing to it.

Sola snatched it up quickly, "Nothing. Mind your own business!" She snapped.

He took another couple of steps back. This wasn't normal. It wasn't right. What was going on? "Mom," he tried again, eyes begging her to stop acting so strangely.

She blinked, suddenly taking in reality, "Erol," she stepped forward and swept him up into a warm embrace. "I'm sorry, honey; I didn't mean to scare you."

Erol clung to her, as though afraid she might start acting weird again, "Just don't do it again," he begged.

She shook her head. A breeze blew in through the still open door, and she kissed her son's forehead before relinquishing her hold to go shut the door. She looked at him, "Go get dressed, okay, honey?"

He nodded, still rather shaken by his mother's odd behaviour, and without any argument went to his room to go get dressed.

Sola stayed on the front landing for a while longer; she looked at the letter again. On impulse she took her thumbnail and scraped at the lettering. It was crusty and flaked off. She'd never seen any ink like that before. With a wave of nausea and revulsion she realized that it wasn't ink at all.

At quarter to ten Erol walked to the front landing, his mother followed. He found his shoes and began to pull them on.

Sola smiled as she watched Erol fight a losing battle with the laces, "Do you want help with those?" she asked.

Erol scowled at his shoes, "No."

"Do you need it?"

"No. I can tie my own dumb shoes." He could, normally, they just weren't co-operating with him. Once he got them passably tied he stood up to open the front door. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye, honey, have fun," before Erol could get the door open Sola had him in a tight embrace, "Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Erol had no idea what had gotten into his mother, he was just going to Torn's for a few hours. "Bye." He broke away and opened the door, waving a quick farewell to Sola.

She waved back and watched him go, fear settling in the pit of her stomach. Was he going to be alright? He'd been to Torn's hundreds of times and nothing had ever happened, but it was too easy for him to become complacent. She wondered if letting him go had been the right decision. Shaking her head to rid herself of such thoughts, Sola closed the door and turned to go and begin her chores for the day.

Torn had to have been waiting for Erol, before the redhead could even finish his first knock the other boy had the door open. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I thought you were going to be here earlier," Torn commented, but he shrugged it off, "Doesn't matter, Mom's not ready anyways."

Erol nodded, "My mom's acting weird today."

"Really? That sucks."

"It's freaky."

The two boys just stood there in the entrance way for a few moments. Torn glanced around, "I'm bored. You want to do anything?"

Erol shrugged, "You have to go soon, don't you?"

"Yeah, when Mom's out of the shower," he jerked his head suddenly.

"Torn wha-" Erol began, but was cut off.

Torn raised a finger, "Shh," he had a concentrated expression, "Ripp's up." He turned away from Erol, "Be back in a sec." The brown haired boy disappeared upstairs for a few moments and when he came back he had his baby brother in his arms. "See? Told you."

"Yeah, alright, fine. How'd you hear him?"

Torn was about to reply when Ripp reached up, grabbing a lock of his brother's hair in his small fist and gave it a sharp tug. Torn let out a yelp. "Erol, can you take him for a minute?"

"Sure," he held out his hands and took the infant from his friend.

Torn stuck a hand into his pocket, "I keep forgetting to do this," he removed a rubber band and pulled his hair into a messy ponytail, "He likes to pull my hair now."

Erol laughed, "Now you look like a girl."

"Yeah well…" Torn couldn't think of what to say and instead stuck his tongue out.

"Torn, what are you doing?" a woman asked, coming down the stairs to where the two boys stood. "Oh," her gaze fell on the redhead boy, "Hello, Erol."

"Hello ma'm," even after all the time he'd spent here, Erol still had no idea how to address Torn's mother.

The woman looked at Torn, "Are you ready to go?"

Torn nodded, "Yeah, see you later, Erol."

"I don't think we'll be gone long, thanks for watching Ripp."

Erol shrugged, "Anytime."

Torn and his mother really weren't long, just over an hour and a half; Erol had watched Ripp for much longer before.

Torn came into the house sporting a fairly large bag obviously containing school supplies. He dropped it by the front door and turned around to glare at his mother, "Slave driver."

She followed her son, giving him a gentle smack on the back of the head. "It could be worse."

"I don't see how," Torn grumbled, drawing a smile from Erol who had come immediately to the front door upon hearing it open, Ripp in his arms.

Torn's mother glanced at the red haired boy, "You didn't have any problems, did you?" she asked.

Erol shook his head, "No ma'm." He never had problems with Ripp.

"That's good," she returned her attention to Torn, "Go put that in your room and I'll start lunch," her pale gaze flicked back to Erol, "Would you like to stay for lunch?"

He shook his head, "No, thanks. I should probably be getting home."

Torn had started up the stairs and turned around, "You want to get together again tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

For the third time Erol shook his head, "Can't. My mom's taking me back to school shopping."

Torn rolled his eyes, "Have fun," he said sarcastically.

"I won't." Erol replied pulling a face.

"No one does."

"Torn," his mother pointed up the stairs, "You can keep chatting in a minute, just go put that away."

The brown haired boy sighed and with another muttered, "Slave driver," proceeded up to his room.

Erol watched him go and briefly considered following him but decided against it.

"Thanks again for watching Ripp. Are you sure you don't want anything before you go?" Torn's mother asked.

Erol nodded, "I'm sure."

A moment later Torn reappeared at the top of the stairs, "Heads!" he jumped onto the banister.

His mother pointed an accusing finger at him, "Don't you dare young man!"

Torn replied by sticking his tongue out and sliding down it anyway. He landed on his feet and took a bow.

Erol would've clapped, but couldn't while holding Ripp, "Nice."

Torn smirked, "Thanks."

His mother just rolled her eyes and headed towards the kitchen.

The slightly older boy held out his hands, making a grabbing motion, "Ripp."

Erol passed the infant to his brother, "Here. I should get going. Maybe we can still do something before school goes back in."

Torn nodded, "Definitely."

"I guess I'll go then, see you later."

"Yeah. See you, Erol!"

Erol ran home, he didn't know why, but something just seemed to be telling him to be quick about it. He opened the door and slipped off his shoes without bothering to untie them. "I'm home!" He called cheerily, slamming the door behind him.

Sola seemed to appear out of nowhere, "Oh thank god!" she said, a hand over her heart.

Erol walked over and, on impulse, grabbed her in a hug, "Hi, Mom."

Sola bent down and hoisted Erol up into her arms, planting a kiss on his forehead, "How was it?"

"Fine," he replied, putting his head on her shoulder.

Kissing him again Sola put him back down; he was getting too big to hold for long. "So, what'd you do?" she asked.

Erol shrugged, "Not much, watched Ripp. Just what I always do."

She nodded and reached out to tousle his hair, "What do you want for lunch?"

"I don't know. I'm not really hungry yet."

Sola smiled, she knew he would be soon. Her thoughts were interrupted by a sound at the door and she jerked, freezing like a deer in headlights. Her brown eyes caught a quick glimpse of a group of men just outside the door.

One of the men pounded on the door, "Open up, Sola! We know you're there!"

Her breath caught and she grabbed Erol's hand, instinctively putting herself between him and the door.

"Mom?"

She turned and ran, keeping a vice like grip on her son's hand, forcing him to follow her. He didn't fight. Sola tugged Erol into her room; down the hall they could hear the sounds of the men fighting against the door. She pulled open her closet and shoved Erol inside. "Stay here." She said firmly.

"Mom, what's going on?"

She shook her head pushing him into a kneeling position, "Not now. Stay here, Erol. Do you understand me?"

He nodded.

"Do not leave this closet until your father or I say you can."

He nodded again, not understanding why he'd need Buir's permission to leave the closet; he'd still be at work for hours.

Tears were beginning to fill her eyes, "Stay quiet, don't make a sound."

Her fear was being projected onto him; his dark eyes stared at her, terror filled, as he raised his hands to his mouth.

She knelt and pulled him into a quick tight embrace. "Whatever happens, don't make a sound, and don't leave. Promise me, Erol."

"I promise." He murmured through his hands.

She kissed him on the cheek and stood up, starting to pull the closet door shut. That was when, down from the entrance way, there came the sound of splintering wood as the men at the door slammed their way through.

Again, sorry for any typos you came across during that. I'll try and update this quick as it's a cruel cliffhanger, even by my standards, and I'm notorious for them.

Review if you will. Let me know what you think, ask questions, complain...