-9-

Sorry for not updating. But… I finally got Resident Evil 4! It's so GOOOOOOD! –goes crazy- The atmosphere's so perfect and the villagers and the scenery and the guns and everything is PERFECT! And then Leon is so great (and good-looking, too bad they haven't created his butt well so I'd have something to look at) and the evil guy is so scary and the plot is so exciting and-

Chainsawer: Scompara! –starts the chainsaw-

Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I decided to adopt a villager from Pueblo. He likes to kill people with a chainsaw, hence the name. And he's so coo-

Keeper: Tasty.

No… he's not for food. Oh, and I updated my profile. Don't ask where I got the idea…

EPISODE 08: Restlessness Part 02 Eyeless Eyes

---

It was a late afternoon, the sun shone just barely above the houses' roofs. Marth drove to the parking slot in the yard of their apartment building, killing the engine. He hadn't wanted to kill it yet because he had loved the song on the radio, but he loved being Vyse more than any song.

With long leaps he climbed the stairs, humming the song that had been on the radio. He didn't usually like soft ballads like it had been, but somehow that day he was more sensitive. Of course, it could be because he had visited Young Link right after work and seeing him on the bed, lifeless as ever, had made him feel so vulnerable. He had never thought that something could happen to youngsters; their lives had just begun, they couldn't end when they hadn't even seen puberty yet.

Marth sighed, deep in thought, as he opened the door to his and Roy's apartment, the scent of good food spilling onto his face. Someone was making a chicken dish, maybe something Mediterranean. The scent of the good food dispelled the vulnerability from his mind, pushing the image of motionless Young Link somewhere to the back of his mind. He had never thought Vyse could make food, even less something that smelled so good. He wanted to run in and gobble up everything in a second, but decided not to.

As he took off his jacket he saw how Vyse had lied the table, even lit some candles to give the room a romantic atmosphere. It seemed a bit strange, since they had never had a romantic dinner before and hadn't felt like they missed out on something, they weren't dating after all. Maybe Vyse had wanted to do something about that, wanted to feel what it felt like to have a candlelight dinner. The brunette himself was in the kitchen, silently humming some song Marth didn't know. He quietly tiptoed behind him and grabbed him into his arms.

Vyse gasped, but laughed as he recovered from the tiny shock. "It's still early, I didn't know--"

"I wanted to come home early because of you." Marth said as he kissed the boy. "And I'm impressed. I thought you didn't know how to cook."

"Well, this is something me mom does often and I've learned it from her, even without wanting to." Vyse explained, answering his kisses.

"How was your day?" Marth asked as he gently bit his ear.

Vyse smiled. "Boring. School's always boring. What about yer day?"

"We investigated a bank robbery on 37th street but didn't get to arrest anyone yet." The noble said.

"What about the injured boy?" The brunette asked, he had been thinking about it at times when he had been alone.

"Oh, Young Link?" Marth looked at him in the eyes. "He hasn't awakened yet."

"That's sad." Vyse replied, hugging the man he loved very tight. He really hoped he could stay with Marth forever, even after what he had to tell him… He was hoping that good food and company would soften the noble enough to forgive him for working for Peach. He had no idea how Link knew Peach, but he had seemed to hate her very much. Maybe she was his ex and he was bitter or something…?

The tiny clock rang, indicating that the chicken in the oven was ready. Vyse invited Marth to sit down while he took it out of the oven and carried it to the table. He smiled instinctively just like his mother, as he said:

"Mediterranean chicken with olives."

The noble smiled to him in return. "Smells good."

They ate in the candlelight, the romantic atmosphere catching on Marth, but Vyse didn't seem to relax at all. He tried to say about it a few times, but the brunette only smiled, saying that he wasn't such a romantic person. Although the noble wanted to believe him, he couldn't. Something else was wrong. Something had happened, maybe at school or somewhere else that had made the brunette jumpy.

Vyse knew he wasn't one of the best actors there was, but he did his best to hide the panic swelling in his stomach. He was absolutely terrified. He was so sure that Marth wouldn't want to see him again after he told him why he had met him in the first place. But he also knew that if he wouldn't tell Marth then, Link would do it and that would make everything twice as bad. He would lose the noble's trust, love, touches, maybe Marth would even start to hate him.

He took a deep breath, trying to form a sensible sentence of what had happened, but his thoughts were running too fast. It seemed as if they tried to cram everything that had happened into one sentence so that he could say it in one breath. He accidentally dropped his fork, flinching as it clattered on his plate. He saw Marth frown upon that and tried to overlook it with a laugh. It didn't work. He knew that because Marth cupped his cheek with a questioning look on his face: "What's wrong?"

Vyse leaned his head on his hand, closing his eyes and heaving a heavy, desperate sigh. "Marth…"

"Yes?" The noble asked almost immediately.

"I have to tell you something." Vyse avoided eye contact, his eyes fixing on Marth's glass of red wine, his panicking mind making him think of it as his blood after he had told the noble.

"That's why you made food and everything?" The noble asked. "You shouldn't have." Although he acted calmly and cheerfully, inside he was horrified by what the brunette had just said.

"I have to tell you something."

He was absolutely terrified. It could never be good when someone had to tell him something. But he wanted to keep his mask on so that it would be easier for Vyse to tell him. He would hold himself together, no matter what.

"I…" Vyse started but didn't finish. Instead he sobbed and hid his face into his hands. "Please… Just listen…"
Marth wanted to say something, but decided to stay quiet. Whatever it was it hurt Vyse as well.

"Marth… when we… when we met…" Vyse said, wiping his eyes with his napkin. "It was no coincidence…"

Marth's eyes widened. What the hell? How had Vyse got to know about him in that bar that night? It seemed almost impossible to think that it had all been planned, Vyse had been so natural, he hadn't been acting like then at all. He wanted to grab Vyse and shake the words out of him to know the truth, to make the strangling horror let go of his throat. But doing that would only scare Vyse and they wouldn't get anywhere at all. Before he got to answer, someone knocked on his door.

Vyse flinched, looking at him with his wide nougat eyes. He looked like a frightened dog when he looked at him like that, making him want to comfort him. Instead he just smiled at him encouragingly, starting towards the door. The fear was making his legs feel flabby, whoever it had been knocking on his door had the worst timing in the world. Vyse wiped his eyes dry quickly, following him and putting a hand on his shoulder as he opened the door.

On their door stood a few police officers, holding their badges in their hands. Marth frowned upon seeing them, exchanging a surprised glance with Vyse. The brunette clenched his shoulder instinctively, a bad hunch running through him.

"Umm… What is it?" The noble asked calmly, opening the door more to let them in.

"Mr… Lowell?" The oldest of the officers asked, touching his copper-coloured moustache.

"Yes, that's me." Marth said, still very sure that they were in the wrong place and he was the wrong person.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lowell, but we have to arrest you." The officer grunted as he went though his pockets, looking for something.

"E-excuse me?" Marth's mouth fell open.

"We have to arrest you for kidnapping Vyse Miller."

The noble just stared at them, not believing his eyes or his ears. He had never thought Vyse's father would go as far as filing a missing person's report. He had been sure that Vyse's parents would've understood how strong their love was after seeing that Vyse was ready to run away from home to be with him. "I-I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard you correctly." He said, just to be sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

Before the officer got to answer, Vyse said angrily: "Well, I don't consider meself kidnapped!"

"You are underage, Mister. Your father filed a missing person's report on you and no matter what you say he'll have to come with us." The officer said, showing him the handcuffs.

Marth looked at them for a while, then at the officer. "You must be kidding. I would never run away in a situation like this."

"It's just a procedure." The officer smiled encouragingly.

As Marth offered his hands to the policeman, Vyse ran to get his jacket. "I'm going to come with ya!"

A much younger officer stopped him gently. "I'm sorry, Mister, but we will have to take you home."

"Ya can't do this! This is wrong! I don't want to go home!" Vyse struggled to get free, but the officer was a lot stronger than him. It was no use trying to get free; he would be taken home where his parents would be waiting for him. And boy, they were going to be so happy.

"Marth! I love ya!" He shouted after the noble, remembering Link's threat. "No matter what! I love ya!"

Meanwhile Chill took the lasagne out of the oven with a grunt; it was heavy and he needed to stand on his toes to put it on the table. Link found that quite adorable, but was too afraid to say anything because he knew Chill hated height-jokes. Being with him was rather difficult because he couldn't imagine someone so small to be so smart. He was almost like an adult in a child's body, trapped like a bird in a cage.

And it surely bothered him. Link found himself wondering if the deepest reason to Chill's coldness was actually his height, the grudge he held against the stupid him that had started smoking when he had been nothing but eleven. Back then he hadn't probably even thought about the pros (what pros?) and cons of smoking, he had just done it. But why? Link couldn't find a reason for an eleven-year-old child to start smoking. Unless…

He had wanted to die.

"Chill?" Link asked, reaching over the table to snatch the clue from Chill's hands.

"Yes?" Chill leaned his head.

"Why did you start smoking?"

The boy's eyes narrowed. "It's none of your frickin' concern."

Link held his breath. The angry Chill wasn't a pleasant sight, no matter how small he was, he managed to look extremely destructive when he was mad. "I… I just wanted to know…"

"I was stupid. Yes. I admit. Now drop it or I'll rip your head off." Chill said calmly as he put some lasagne on his plate. But from the tone of his voice Link deduced that he was serious… and somehow his subconscious believed him, believed that Chill wasn't a person to be messed with, doing that would result in very serious consequences. He didn't know why he thought that, but couldn't help it.

To get his mind off such a disturbing thought he read the clue on the paper, completely focusing on it. He had never solved clues before, it was a completely new territory for him and he was already lost. "Uhh…He can't speak English as his native language." He said the first thing popping into his mind.

"Or maybe he can…" Chill said, looking at his fork as if it was something very interesting.

"Hm?" The elf asked, the disturbing thoughts completely forgotten.

"Would you write one word differently each time you wrote it if you weren't sure about it's spelling?" The silver-topped boy asked, his icy eyes fixing on his.

Link thought for a while, wondering why the butterflies were flying so wildly in his stomach when he was under Chill's gaze. "…No, I'd stick with one spelling."

"Me too. He's written 'more' in two different ways. Amoore and moare."

"Do you think there's a hidden message?"

"Yes..." Chill raised his eyebrows. He had told Link that the misspelled poem was a clue; it was pretty obvious it would contain a hidden message. He wanted to point his mistake out for him, but decided to let it drop as a thought ran through his head. "I'm sure I if anyone can figure this out without needing to identify with him." Chill said smugly, referring to Roy and hoping that Link would realise that.

They tried solving the clue for a time that felt like ages. Chill even tried to find some kind of a mathematical equation hidden in it, but failed. Nothing in their knowledge resembled the owl described in the poem, much less with such misspellings. Checked in candlelight, there was no message glowing in the dark. None of the first or last letters formed a word and neither did the misspelled words.

Link happened to glance at the clock when it was half past twelve, amazed by how fast time had actually flowed. When he had last checked the time it had been around 7 PM. Time had flown on wings while they had tried to solve the clue within the poem.

"It's really late… I should leave." He said quickly, feeling a little embarrassed to stay over Chill's for so long.

The boy didn't even lift his eyes from the paper, he just shrugged. "You can stay here for the night."

"But… It's really late." He tried. There was nothing wrong with staying with Chill, but somehow he felt the boy was going too fast. Way, way too fast.

"That's exactly why." Chill explained, getting up and starting to clean the table. "But if you prefer the company of drunks and muggers to mine, go ahead."

Link tried to say something but felt too embarrassed. He had just tried to go home and Chill made him feel so bad about it. "All… all right. I'll stay here for the night."

Chill washed his hands as he put the dishes into the dishwasher with a silent happy hum.

"Where do you have the blankets and pillows? I can at least make my bed." He continued the conversation. Although Chill was fine with silence, it didn't mean that he had to. He didn't know Chill well enough yet to be comfortably quiet with him.

"Where exactly do you think you can make your bed here?" Chill said, referring to the tiny size of the apartment.

"On… the couch?" Link suggested warily.

"No, not on the couch." The silver-topped boy shook his head. "My bed is much more comfortable."

Link stared at him for a while, unable to believe him. How straightforward could someone be? "Uh, right."

"Don't be afraid." Chill said calmly. "If I had wanted to have sex with you I would've already done it."

Link was shocked. Positively and negatively. Positively: because he couldn't even remember anyone coming onto him in such a wonderful way. It felt great to have someone's 100 percent attention. It was awesome to have someone who wasn't afraid of his feelings like Roy had been; it was so much easier to understand him from his body language and hints. With Roy he had never been sure how the redhead really felt because he used minimum body language and never hinted anything. Negatively he was shocked because Chill was being too straightforward. He didn't even blink as he said those things. It almost seemed like he didn't even think about it when he said them, like they were only smalltalk.

They went to sleep pretty soon after that, Link feeling a little uncomfortable, but the disturbing thoughts died as he saw Chill sleeping soundly next to him. He really hadn't tried anything. He hadn't even touched him on the bed, probably to show him that he had been serious. Or then he just didn't care about his body. The thought made sense since Chill was so small, maybe he had assumed that no one could ever want him physically and didn't even try it.

It was a bit sad, because although a midget, he was still a human. And no matter the size, every human needed the same things. Everyone needed friends, food and love, as a child hugs and kisses were enough, but after they got older, the things needed changed.

Link sighed as he turned around. It was none of his business to try to get into Chill's mind. The boy had put a barrier between them as he had said that his smoking hadn't been any of his frickin' concern, Link wouldn't push it. If Chill wanted him to know something, he would tell it himself.

In the middle of the night Chill woke up to the tune from NYPD Blue, his favourite TV-show of all time. At first he didn't know where it came from and couldn't have cared less, but when the tune persistently played, he got up and answered his cell phone.

"What the frickin' hell do you want?" He said in a drowse.

"Good morning, Mr. Pioggia. There's been yet another murder."

"Whoop de frickin' doo." Chill said sarcastically, he hated waking up in the middle of the night, but even more than that he hated the unconcerned tone of the speaker. He hadn't even apologised for calling him in the middle of the night.

"Excuse me?"

Chill slapped himself mentally as he realised who the person on the phone was. He couldn't talk to his boss like that. "…What? So soon?"

"Yes… on 5th Avenue."

"I'll be there in a second." Chill said as he ended the call, glancing at the clock. It was three in the morning. But he still hadn't figured out the clue… Link had distracted him so much. It wasn't honestly true, but he wanted someone to blame and Link was good for that. He looked at the sleeping elf next to him with a fond look, a soft smile on his lips before he grabbed his side and shook him harshly.

"I… I'm awake…" Link mumbled.

"We have to go. There's been another murder." He said strictly, glancing around the room to find some clothes.

"A…nother murder?" Link sat up, still in a dream.

"Yes." Chill crawled over him to the other side of the bed.

The elf turned his side, grabbing him from the waist and throwing him next to him. "…The dead won't run away."

Chill couldn't help the satisfied smile spreading on his face.1-0 to him in their battle of Link with Roy. He didn't really see it as a battle, but the thought had passed his mind in a few seconds and he hadn't bothered to correct it. Although he wanted to, sadly he couldn't stay there, lying in Link's warm hug. If they went to see the body in the morning the next murder could've already happened. He crawled over Link as he said: "You stay here then. I have to go."

"…Workaholic."

"Whatever." Chill said calmly as he put on a white jumper and the first jeans he managed to find. He rambled through the dark apartment to the door and disappeared into the corridor as fast as he could. Halfway out of the building he stopped and returned to get his jacket, knowing just how cold it was out at night.

He arrived to the scene around half past three, the place swarming with officers. Somehow he managed to get through to the victim, seeing him with a screwdriver in his head. He shook his head as he took a step closer, crouching next to the body and examining the screwdriver. It had been thrust into the man's head with tremendous strength, cracking the whole skull on the left side. Obviously the victim hadn't noticed the attacker before it was already too late, Chill deduced that from the rather calm expression frozen on his face.

In his hand was another tiny piece of paper. Chill took it, glancing around to make sure no one had seen him because he shouldn't have taken it. Violation of murder scene. Up theirs.

He walked away from the officers as he lit up a cigarette. He didn't look at the new clue; instead he took the old one out of his pocket and looked around. Was there an owl somewhere? Or what? But there was nothing there that could've had anything to do with the poem. Unless… He looked at the paper and then at the kiosk where the victim had been found.

ICE CREAM! 13 different kinds of flavours to choose from!

His eyes scanned the poem, picking up the letters and arranging them again.

"13. Ice cream…" He said quietly, pressing the paper in his hand as he exhaled a soft cloud of smoke. He should've been able to figure it out. He had only taken the alphabets before or after thecorrect letters in the words and arranged them to get the clue. It seemed so simple now that the answer was given to him. He snorted angrily as he looked at the new clue. It was only an old timetable for trains; some of the times were circled with red. On the trains departing the circles were on 19:01, 3:45, 2:42, 1:20, 7:56, 3:15, 3:54, 4:58, 14:42, 2:30, 20:20, 5:48 and there was only one circled in the arriving trains 22:36.

It has to be some kind of a mathematic equation, Chill thought. But how? None of the numbers gave him any direction. He looked at them for a long time, forming different kinds of equations, but failing to come to a sensible answer. Then he tried to find some connection between the times and the name of the train station, West Soho. He still couldn't find anything at all.

" You know, those aren't healthy for growing teenagers like you." He heard an old man say. He was wearing a ragged shirt and loose jeans; his beard hadn't been shaved in a very long time. In other words, he was a hobo. There was no other way he would've been up so early in the morning. On his face was a worried expression as he continued: "You'll never grow up if you keep smoking."

"Oh?" Chill's eyes narrowed. "Up yours, you old fart. I don't need your 'I'm a good Samaritan' act. I'm twenty-five and if you won't get lost this instant I'll stick this cigarette down your throat."

"…I'm sorry for trying to help you." He said with wide eyes, turning to walk away.

Chill looked after him for a while, thinking. Even strangers were worried about his smoking. He could tell Link didn't like it because the elf had asked him about it and he always had the certain expression of disgust when he lit a cigarette. But why did everyone care about it so much? No one had before. Why should they care now?

He dropped the cigarette to the ground as he started towards the victim, snorting.

During the day Roy was with Peach, shopping the necessary items for their baby. He had done everything he could to avoid that, even saying that Young Link needed to be watched constantly, but she had insisted him to come along. Gladly Roan was able to go to see Young Link after school, almost dispelling the uneasy feeling of leaving Young Link alone from Roy's mind.

Roy was in his thoughts, wondering what Chill and Link were doing as he looked at the cradles of all shapes and colours. It was amazing how many different kinds of cradles there were, considering that the baby didn't care where he or she was sleeping. What a business.

But he was still feeling jealous every time he thought of Link with Chill. The boy had been so straightforward about his feelings; it wouldn't take long from Link to understand what he really wanted. And that was very frightening. If Link began to like Chill it would mean that he would no longer think of him and him alone. Of course, it was selfish of him to hope for that when he was going to marry Peach, but he couldn't help it. He loved Link. He wanted him to be his alone. Because if-

"Roy!" The voice woke him up from his thoughts.

"Yes?" He turned to look at Peach, she was looking at some baby clothing.

She tsk-tsked. "Honey…"

Roy sighed as he began to walk towards her; "Yes, honey?"

"Better." She smiled, offering her cheek. Roy rolled his eyes as he quickly brushed his lips past her cheek, hoping that she would've been Link. And if she had been Link, he wouldn't have been satisfied with just a kiss on his cheek, no way. He would've wanted a kiss on the mouth. No. He wasn't thinking of that. He pushed the thoughts away quickly, almost scared of the directness of his mind.

He missed Link a lot lately, he didn't feel bad for admitting that because he loved him. He just couldn't say it. Again he could feel the claws of jealousy clenching his chest as he thought of Chill. It was true that he was annoying because he was self-assertive, rude and short, but he was spending more time with Link than him. And because he was so frank he had probably already told Link that he liked him, giving him the only thing he wanted: a confession. Roy bit his lip, before he would get married he was going to tell Link about his feelings. And he promised, he would use those-

"Roy!" Peach called him sharply.

He woke up from his thoughts again. "Yes, honey?"

"Come and walk next to me. Otherwise people will start talking." She said casually.

"It's not like they notice us." He commented, already catching up with her.

"Of course they do." She shot him a glare. "Everyone notices my beauty."

They looked at various things for the child, in the end buying only the cradle and a few clothes. As Roy drove her home, he realised that she hadn't really needed to go shopping; she had just wanted to be with him. He was a bit mad at her because he had promised Link that he would stay at the hospital, but then again, she was his fiancée and had a word in his life as well. He just needed to get used to it.

At the hospital Roan sat next to Young Link's bed, looking at the tiny boy with a fond expression. Seeing him there, lying on the hospital bed, it was a beautiful sight. Like a sleeping angel, the halo broken and the wings fallen off as the world's cruelty had scarred his completeness.

He flinched as Young Link snorted, a gush of happiness flowing through him. Was he waking up? Was he going to get up finally? Would he open his eyes then? Would he get up and smile at him, wondering why he looked so surprised? Roan couldn't help the seed of hope inside of him growing into a tree, making it hard to hold back laughter and the tears of joy. Young Link was alive. He had moved.

And then he waited.

And waited while he cried, cried out the uncertainty and pain, getting ready to feel the happiness gushing through him like gale winds as the boy would open his eyes.

And waited.

His long wait was rewarded. Young Link opened his eyes slowly, gazing at the ceiling. His blue eyes were fixed right above him, looking up there with astonishment mixed in fear as if there was some divine creature looking back at him, giving him another chance in life. Roan stood by his bed, scared that Young Link was not going to move anymore, looking at him with wide eyes.

God, be all right, oh God, let him be all right...

Then the boy turned his head to the side, looking at him with the same astonishment on his face. "I'm alive…" He mouthed slowly, staring at the wall behind Roan. Instinctively Roan checked if there was something strange on the wall, the look in those blue eyes was so shocked yet so astonished that he didn't know how to act.

"Young Link?" The other boy called shyly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Roan?" The young elf flinched upon hearing his voice as if he hadn't even noticed him there before. He sat up as he rubbed his eyes while mumbling something quietly to himself. The blanket fell off him, revealing the large bandage on his chest. Roan couldn't help the flashbacks, the screech, the thump… the whole event rolled before his eyes once more, making him groan in pain.

He collected himself quickly, knowing that Young Link was probably more shocked that he was. He had survived a car crash, woken up in a hospital with no adults around to tell him what was going on. Judging from the expression on his face, he was horrified. Roan feel an uneasy feeling flow through him but when there was no one else around he took the responsibility of an adult and said: "You… were hit by a car. You're now in the hospital."

"I… I remember." Young Link said slowly, seeing the crash in front of him and feeling the intense pain he had felt after it all over again. His chest had blocked his breathing for a second, his mouth had been dry before he had coughed up blood, he had felt the warm liquid stain his hair and gluing it against his forehead before he had passed out. He took a few sharp breaths, the panic taking him over again. Roan took a firm hold of his hand, calming him down a little. But it didn't help. He could still feel the pain, the blood on his hair, flowing to his face. He rubbed his eyes again.

Roan climbed to sit on the bed, looking directly into Young Link's eyes as he said: "You shouldn't rub your eyes."

Young Link stared at his hand for a long, long time without answering. Then he rubbed his eyes again, almost furiously, completely ignoring what Roan had just told him.

"Ah…ah…" Young Link tried to talk, but couldn't. The tears were forcing their way out.

Roan hesitated for a short moment before he took his friend in a hug, patting his back comfortingly. Young Link tried to talk again, but the words came out as a frightened wheeze, as a mass of confused whizzes.

Roan pressed him against him tightly: "Thank God you woke up."

Young Link wailed and buried his face into Roan's neck, crying desperately. He had felt Roan's warmth, heard his voice, felt his hands, smelled his mild scent, but no matter how hard he had tried he hadn't seen his blue eyes.

EPISODE 08: Restlessness Part 02 Eyeless Eyes

Wow, it became really long… but Young Link's finally awake! Wha-

Chainsawer: Mora! –starts the chainsaw-

runs away- Non ho capito! Non ho capitooo!

Researcher: He want eat her?

Keeper: He not know she not very tasty.

Researcher: Not at all very tasty.

Keeper: Thank read. Reader… review tasty.