I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say

I'm finding myself in the midst of You
Beyond the music, beyond the noise
All that I need is to be with You
And in the quiet hear Your voice

-Kristin Chenoweth; Word of God Speak

The night had started to chill intensively as the clouds of the past evening began to drift away, removing the warming cover and allowing the heat of the day to rise, only to vanish above the faint disc of the moon. Small shimmers that dappled the sky; they seemed to look more like glitter than stars. A midnight breeze disturbed the trees, making them shiver and sway. The breeze carried into the neighborhoods outside the city, failing to even make the houses react.

The breeze stopped as it was blocked out of Mike's house by a sturdy bedroom window. There, the gust dispersed into nothing, having only made a gentle prattling sound against the pane.

The noise failed to awaken him, however. In fact, he was too busy tossing and turning, clearly under influence of a dream. Not an ordinary dream, but one that came back all too often. And one that never ceased to make the gardener shed tears.

The 15 year old buy knelt in the brush, staying low in small clump of ferns, his hunting rifle clutched to his side. His hands were still unsteady; he had only been hunting a few times, and was still finding himself in the process of learning. At least, the teenager thought, if he didn't bag anything for dinner, surely his older brother would. With the last thought, he ducked lower and crept ever so slowly; he had to tread carefully, the slight snap of a twig would alarm any nearby game of the ambush.

Indeed, the older of the two was more experienced. Not far from his sibling, he stalked more smoothly between the towering pines; the dense shadows on the ground served almost as well for a disguise as the camouflage vests that they wore. Both teenagers had their eyes set on the same prey.

In a well-lit clearing, a doe raised her dainty head, ears erect. They swiveled as her nose sniffed the air. Wide brown eyes shot frantically around; the doe heard a rustle in the surrounding trees, but its direct source was unclear.

The older brother cocked his rifle as he took aim, placing his thumb on the hammer. The tip of his thumb pressed down too fast, and a startling 'click!' echoed into the air.

With a snort, the doe backed up a few paces, nostrils flared. With a stumbled pivot on her hooves, she sprang into the air, darting away from the sound.

"Oh, no!" cried the older, clutching the rifle. Although instincts told him better, he stood up and re-aimed.

The younger sibling stood as well, taking three shots, all missed, at the quarry. He watched, disappointed, as their prey vanished into the wall of trees. He cursed himself for not taking action sooner.

He was still on the alert as he resumed his place on his knees. He needed some time to think about what had happened. They would have to find a new place to wait, probably for hours. By then, it would surely be dark, and he and his brother both realized that the risks of getting lost in the fog were high.

A rustle sounded right behind him. Still in battle mode, the teenager twisted his torso and aimed, shooting the intruder at close range. BANG!

A thud. A cough, followed by a choking sputter. As the smoke cleared, the young man saw his own brother laying in front of him, a chunk of flesh blown from the side of his neck. Blood spilled all over his limp form.

The younger sibling's heart leapt into his throat. "Aaron!"

But the call came too late.

Mike sat upright in bed, sweat pouring down his face. Despite the sweat, he shivered violently as he looked around, almost swearing that he was still in the dream forest. He noticed that hot streams of tears had begun to leak from his eyes, and instead of wiping them away, he just let them come.

"I'm so sorry, Aaron," Mike whispered to his brother.

"Mike?" Daphne asked as she approached him in the garden later that morning. The breeze chilled her to the bone, and she pulled her jacket tightly around herself, but all she could feel at this moment was her worry for Mike.

He lifted his head and looked at her. His green eyes, usually a brilliant emerald, were dulled in the washes of sorrow. Daphne sensed. She flanked his side and squatted beside him. "Mike," she murmured, but he looked away.

Oh, no. Was it something I did? Daphne immediately thought. She gently nudged him. "Look, Mike, if I was too pushy last night, I-"

He turned to face her again and shook his head. "No, no. It's not you, it's… something personal."

Daphne felt a light sense of relief; but focused all her attention on what Mike seemed to be hiding.

"If you want, you can tell me. I'm your friend, Mike. You can trust me."

Mike stared at his gloved hands, caked with dirt inside the flowerbed. With a sigh, he lowered his brows and thought a moment. Many voices began to scream inside of his head, this was tearing him up inside, all these feelings! He just had to tell someone.

But, if she found out, he thought, would she hate me?

"Daphne, if I tell you this, I hope you will understand. Please don't make any crazy decisions based on what I'm going to tell you. Okay?" Daphne could detect a quiver in his voice.

"Look, if you want to talk somewhere more private, it's alright. That way it's only between you and me."

Mike nodded. "I'd feel more comfortable with that. Thank you, Daphne."

Daphne stood and waited patiently. Mike removed his gloves and placed them inside the metal toolbox nearby. He followed suit and rose to his feet, then proceeded to follow Daphne.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"My office. The only way anyone can get in is if I let them."

The two of them journeyed down the open hallway, their footsteps echoing off the walls. But, besides theirs, they heard another set coming towards them from the opposite end of the hallway. As two distant figures appeared in the dim light, Daphne smiled thinly.

"Hello, Charlene," Daphne said cheerily, despite her current upset over Mike's situation.

The tall blonde woman smiled back. "Morning, Daphne." The locks of light gold framed a thin face, and then cascaded down to the woman's waist. A pair of blue-gray eyes sparkled shyly from behind a few stray hairs. A smile embossed her lips.

"What are you doing here? Stage setup doesn't begin for a few more hours."

"Well, I got up early so I could show Cody around."

"Cody?"

The tall figure behind Charlene came into sight. He was tall, about as tall as Mike. His ebony hair was short on top, and then gradually formed into longer tresses that graced his broad shoulders, save for some stray hairs that stuck up. High cheekbones were ornamented with a layer of scruffy facial hair, that traced down his jawbone and gathered in a small clump of a goatee below his bottom lip. He blinked his blue eyes a couple of times, and nodded to the strangers.

"This place is pretty neat," he said, putting an arm around Charlene's shoulders. "Never been inside a TV studio – just seen the stuff that comes out of them." The two women chuckled softly.

Charlene looked at her watch. "Oh! We'll be late for breakfast!"

Cody nudged her gently outside. "Then let's get going! That dessert tray won't be in the buffet too long, you know!"

Charlene's eyes widened. "Dessert tray?"

Cody bit his lip. "Uh oh."

Before he could register the situation, Charlene had gripped his hand and was steadily leading him down the hall. He stumbled for a few steps, but regained his balance. With a chuckle, he gained his stride beside her and said, "Hey, now, not without me!"

Charlene turned and waved to Daphne.

"See you at work!" she called.

Daphne chuckled and waved back. "Don't have too much fun!"

Giggles from the women erupted briefly, before Charlene and Cody had exited the studio.

Mike smiled softly, but remained silent. Daphne's smile faded as she looked at him. Touching his arm, she said "C'mon. My office isn't too far. This way."

Daphne and Mike reached a tan steel door, with a small window cut into it. On the blurred glass was a set of white, blocky letters that read: DAPHNE O'KELLEY. She slid the key into the lock and turned it. As the latch released, Daphne pushed the door open and stepped aside.

"Let's talk," she said softly.

Mike sat across from Daphne at her desk, his head hung. "That's what happened. And I have that dream very frequently. Daphne, it's not my fault, but, it still hurts." He feared her reply. He flinched as she felt Daphne's slender fingers wrap around his atop the desk. He raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Mike, it's okay. It was an accident. I'm sorry about your loss, but, at least you won't be grieving alone."

At that moment, Mike stood from his chair. Daphne parroted his movements and watched intently as he moved around the corner of the desk to stand in front of her. His eyes were still sorrowful as they stared into hers.

Daphne allowed her arms to fall open. Mike allowed a tear to escape his eye before her fell into them, sobbing openly. Daphne gasped a little, clutching him tightly and rubbing his back. The only things she said were the occasional soothes of "hush" and "shh". Mike obliged and nuzzled his face into her shoulder.

"I'm here, Mike."