A/N: Okay, I apologize for the vague references. It'll all be explained in this chapter, I think. Oh, and a note on the whole religion thing. The thing about writing a Zelda fanfic set in the modern world is how much of the elements you want to keep. Obviously, the goddesses are a big part of the Zelda story, but its just kind of hard in a modern setting, so I just went with the religions of this world. If this offends you, well, don't read then. I have no idea why you would be offended by this, considering this is fiction, but if you are, sorry. It won't have a lot to do with the story, but it will explain some of the actions of the characters.

Link sat in the darkness of his apartment in absolute silence, the only light emanating from the noisy streets of the Big Apple. He stared at the Glock that peacefully rested on the glass coffee table in front of his worn couch, and felt the emotion rise up within him.

It was the same police standard Glock with which his father had committed suicide, and that his fellow officers had never confiscated. Link never knew why they had never taken the thing up. Maybe they thought that a woman and her six year old son needed the protection.

He sighed with regret. He was not angry at his father for not being there, not really. He definitely could understand the sort of circumstances that life could throw that could leave a man completely overwhelmed and without hope. He and Link were the same with that. However, unlike his father, he had not given up.

The main reason for his unwillingness to give up the chance for life was that gun setting right in front of him. He used the gun for protection, that was true, but its true purpose ran much deeper than that. Whenever Link was on the verge of doing something rash or anything else like that, he always took out the gun and made himself consider every consequence to his actions.

The gun served as a remembrance, not to mention that it had probably saved his life multiple times.

He sighed again as the memories from the past day replayed itself over and over again. He had never wanted to hurt Zelda, especially with the past he had hoped had been buried and lost forever. He had sent her flowers, not really knowing what else to do, but she had never acknowledged them, or him.

All because of Dragmire. The bastard. Link leaned his head back and closed his eyes as the memories washed over him like a shower pouring out flame, instead of water.

Link's heart drummed his fear as he made his way into Dragmire's office. The men with the AK-47s fluidly moved to block the door as he entered, and he heard the click of a safety being turned off. Despite his fear, he managed to look at the man who ruled his life with an iron fist in the eye. Dragmire smiled a tiger's smile.

"Good evening, Mr. Williams," he said in a pleasant voice. He gestured toward the plush leather seat in front of his desk of finest mahogany, "Let's talk business." Link obliged him reluctantly, sinking into the gentle embrace of the chair slowly. "Have you taken care of this shipments?" he continued, lifting a bottle of wine from his desk and filling a glass, "Would you care for some?"

"No thank you, Mr. Dragmire," Link said, trying to keep the hate out of his voice, "In reference to the shipments, everything went according to plan." Dragmire smiled his cool, predator's smile again.

"Excellent, my boy, very good," he said, taking a drink from his glass, "You will find the money for the job already in your account. You made quite a hefty sum this time, if I may say. But that's perfectly fine. I pay for only the best, and, my boy, you are the best. You could go quite far if you decided you wanted to."

"You and I both know why I do what I do," Link said coldly. Dragmire was silent for a moment.

"Indeed," he said, inclining his head somewhat, "Your precious mother, I believe." Apparently, he took Link's silence for agreement. "You know, Link, we take care of our own. If you'll stay and continue to work for me, I'll make sure that she's is taken care of. You will never have to worry about her well-being."

Link slumped in his chair. "You and I both know that I can't do that," he said tiredly. Dragmire nodded slightly.

"Indeed," he said just as quietly, "Rest assured, Link, that I will never threaten your mother, out of the great personal respect I have for her and you both. She will be safe from me. However," he said, his voice now growing much harsher, "you may run from me, but you will never be able to escape. You will belong to me and my family until the day you die. When I have need of you again, I will find you. Now, get out of my sight."

Link was snapped out his reverie by a light tap at the door. Walking slowly, he went to the door and opened it, revealing Zelda standing on the other side.

"Hey, Link," she said, her voice and stance both uncertain.

"Hey," he said quietly in a tired tone.

"I just wanted to apologize for how I acted last night. It was wrong of me to act like that, and I am deeply sorry." She sounded genuinely sincere in her apology, but Link had learned a long time ago how false most people really were. Still, though, it wouldn't hurt to forgive her.

"It's okay," he said, trying to act a little more cheerful and not really doing a good job of it, "Would you like to come in? I was just about to make a pot of coffee."

"Okay," she said, much to his surprise. He didn't think that she had wanted anything else to do with him.

"Well, forgive the mess," he said, mainly just to cover the shock as he led her in, flipping lights on as he went, "It's been a long time since I've had a visitor, and I'm not really that neat of a person."

"It's okay, Link," she laughed, and for the first time, Link felt the corners of his mouth tug up into a smile. When she saw the gun lying on the coffee table, though, her face went pale.

"Sorry about that," he said, embarrassed and half frightened that she would run out the apartment screaming. He took it and stowed it in its usual compartment in the kitchen. She stood there, uncertainty radiating from her again.

"Were you, uh, expecting trouble?" she stammered.

"No, no it's nothing like that!" he exclaimed, trying to calm her down.

"Then?" she said, unable to finish the question, gesturing at the table.

"I was just cleaning it," he lied, "I wasn't really expecting company, so I didn't bother putting it up, yet." He really didn't feel like explaining the real reason he had set the gun out.

"Oh," she said, the uncertainty quickly fading. She laughed suddenly. "I'm sorry about freaking out like that," she apologized.

"Don't worry about it," he said, pulling himself back together, "Just sit down and put your feet up. Mi casa es su casa, yah?"

"Whatever you say," she replied pleasantly. Link just smiled to himself as he busied himself preparing the coffee. After the pot was filled, he poured it into a couple of cups.

"Hey, Zelda, how do you like your coffee?" Link asked.

"Two sugars and some cream," she replied.

"Hey, that's how I like mine, too," Link said as he carried the cups into the living room. She smiled her thanks at him as she took the coffee and inhaled deeply. She sipped it and blinked in surprise.

"What? Is something wrong with it?" Link asked, sitting next to her.

"No, no," she said quickly, "It's really good. I was just kinda surprised, that's all."

"I'm pretty good with coffee," he said modestly.

"I'll say," she said, taking another, larger sip.

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while. Even though Zelda seemed relaxed, Link could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"Zelda, what is it?" he asked sadly, setting his cup on a coaster, "I can tell that there's something you want to say. Please, just say it. You won't offend me."

"How did you know that man?" she asked immediately.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he sighed, "You'll probably never want to be around me again."

"Could be," she agreed, "But, as it stands now, if you don't tell me, I'll never be able to trust you again." He sat in contemplative silence for several moments.

"When I was a child," he started, "My father was a cop. Damned good one, too. He actually cared about people and did his best to help them. However, all the unrelenting violence and crime eventually got to him. He started drinking heavily and before too long, pow," he said, using his fingers to mimic a gun to the side of his head. She didn't say anything, but a sudden sympathy flooded her eyes. "My mother was a housewife; she never went to college, and she didn't really have a way to support us after that. She started working in this restaurant owned by one Ganondorf Dragmire, that man we met in the Olive Garden."

"I would have to stay at the restaurant when she worked when I was younger, and Dragmire would talk to me. About his various businesses and operations, and how he could always use a good helping hand. I was young at the time, and very naïve, so I quickly agreed to work for him when I turned a proper age."

"My first job was to make a delivery for him. Easy, I thought. He gave me weird directions, sometimes detouring for miles, and told me to avoid any police I saw. While I'll admit that it seems odd now, at the time I was just grateful that I would have the opportunity to be able to help my mother support the two of us."

"You don't mean-" she began.

"On that day, even if I didn't know it, I became a dealer for Dragmire and his family. By the time I realized what was going on, I couldn't back out. My fate was sealed. He owned me."

"Link," she said softly. He didn't realize tears had been sliding down his face until Zelda's finger tips lightly brushed them away.

"And, now, I'm just trying to make up for my past mistakes," he said quietly. Zelda took the hand she had been brushing tears away with and gently cupped his chin, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"That's all anyone of us can ever do," she told him gently. He smiled slightly at her.

"You know something?" he asked, "For some reason, it seems like you bring out the best in me. Usually by this time I would be bawling my eyes out in pure despair. But, you make me feel better, for some weird reason."

"I feel the same way," she said honestly, "Even though I've only known you a week."

"Sometimes that's all the time needed," he said wisely.

"Yep, that's true," she agreed, "Well, I think I'd better leave. It's starting to get late, and I don't want to keep you up." She rose, taking the coffee with her. "Do you mind?" she asked, "It's really good coffee."

"Of course," he said, escorting her to the door. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug in the doorway.

"Good night, Link," she whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she hurriedly disengaged her arms and zoomed back over to her apartment.

As Link closed the door in thoughtful dismay, he concluded with a smile that it seemed that life was about to look up.

Except for Dragmire, a cynical voice whispered in his head. He wouldn't even let that affect him as he walked into his bedroom, unaware that this sleep was going to be his first nightmare free one in many years.

A/N: I really didn't like the ending too much. Oh, well. It will do. Hey, I wrote this is an hour, get off my back. Anyway, R&R.