Another updated chapter :) Thanks for reading, reviewing, faving me and my story and pointing out any mistakes I may have made!

-Jack Knights

His own screams woke him up, bringing him back to reality. He'd dreamt, of being Ganondorf again, only this time, he found himself unable to stop from killing innocent people. Link sat up as he desperately fought with the sheets. His head swam and he groaned as he clutched his head with his right hand. Suddenly a gentle, but firm hand clasped his shoulder, and he opened his eyes as the covers were readjusted around him. Link was surprised to find himself breathing very hard, and something wet dribbled out of his mouth; blood, he discovered when he reached a hand up to wipe it away.

"Lay back down you fool, before you tear open your stitches," came the same deep voice from before. Link focused, only then seeing the same dark haired man with the red eyes. When he refused to comply, the man roughly held him down. It was then that Link found his voice.

"Let me go, you murdering bastard!" he shouted, struggling feebly.

"Delusional," he muttered as he kept Link down, pricking his arm with a needle. Within a matter of seconds, Link felt the drug work its way through his system. Suddenly tired, he stopped struggling and fell back down. His breathing was laboured as he turned to face the man again. His startled face shone with sweat and blinked as Link focused on him.

"Gan... on... dorf," Link muttered as his vision swam and unconsciousness took over.

When next he awoke, Link managed to stifle a groan of discomfort. Something poked horribly into his side and his left hand itched like mad, but he remained utterly still. Memories of the past flooded into his mind and he recalled Ganondorf, holding him down and—for the first time—looking frightened of Link. Ganondorf is here... I'm not dead, not yet, he assessed, tense.

Link strained to hear, focusing on any other noise other than the constant dripping in the background. He heard someone cough lightly and a scuffle of shoes. His face twitched as he tried to conceal his displeasure. The damn bastard's still here in the room? Unwilling to give in, he cracked open an eye and quickly surveyed the room. It was semi-dark, but there was a window open, the curtains moving with a slight breeze. It was there, sitting in front of the window, a book open in his hand, that Link saw him.

Ganondorf, he thought with a brief intake of air as his heart pounded in his chest.

"I know you're awake," he said suddenly, startling Link. "You don't have to try and hide it."

The man closed his book and took off his glasses, folding and placing them in his breast pocket. He made his way over to Link's bed, grabbing a chair as he drew nearer. Link prepared himself, still acting asleep; turning the chair so that the back was to Link, Ganondorf sat facing him, his chin resting on his folded arms. Link gulped almost audibly, his nerves frayed. The dark-skinned man sighed and shook his head.

How long do you expect to hide amongst the innocent Ganondorf? He thought, wishing an assortment of painful deaths upon him. He sighed then, and this surprised Link; was he mistaken, or did he detect wariness in Ganondorf's voice?

"You called me Ganondorf yesterday," he began, his voice low. "I suppose it's easy to make that mistake. Gerudo I may be, but a murder I am not."

What? Link thought, startled. It was then that he opened his eyes, and upon seeing his face, realized that the man was right.

"You were awake," he said, reaching a hand behind his head as he removed the cap he wore. Wavy red hair fell about his face, reaching just above his shoulders. His ears were slightly pointed, not rounded, and poked through his hair. Dark brown eyes, not red like he had assumed, stared at him, searching, probing.

"I can tell by your face that you know I speak the truth. My name is Dagg," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "I am the one who treated your wounds." Link turned his head away, shocked into silence. He's not Ganondorf... but he looks so similar.

"What happened to you?" the man asked, looking intently at Link. "How did you become so... battle-worn?"

Link opened his mouth to say something, but a loud crashed from outside interrupted him. Dagg stood, eyebrows drawn together in frustration. He walked to the door and looked outside. Cursing, he closed the door, looking frantically about the room.

"I had hoped you would have more time, but it seems I was wrong."

"What is it?" Link asked, confused. Dagg didn't answer right away, instead going to the window and looking down below.

"They've come for you, Hylian," he said a-matter-of-factly. Link blinked, still confused and threw off the blankets. He stood shakily on his legs, wincing in pain as his side protested. He looked at Dagg, growing even more confused when the man began undressing. He tossed his coat, shoes and cap to Link, who fumbled to catch them with only one hand.

"Put these on, we're going to see if we can fool these creeps," he said. "And cover your ears, for Din's sake."

While Link dressed hurriedly in the bigger man's thing, Dagg went to the closet next to the bed and removed a paper gown. He put it on, took off his socks and messed up his hair. Link marveled as he pulled out a folded chair, but instead of legs it had wheels. He sat in it, hunching over; the man knew how to act the part of a sick patient.

"Don't just stand there, get over here!" he said, looking horrified. "Hopefully you can pass for a visiting friend; just hold the wheel-chair, I'll push it along. Tell me if your side hurts too much, alright?"

Link grabbed for the handles as the chair rolled forward, and he gasped as his side sent twinges of pain up his back. Dagg opened the door and they went into the hall. Luckily it was deserted and they made their way quickly to the opposite end of the hall. Just as they turned the corner, Bulblins—three of them, in full battle armour—appeared from the stairs. Link self-consciously pulled the cap further down his head, hoping his ears were covered.

"Talk to me," Dagg hissed. Link awkwardly struck up a conversation, which Dagg enthusiastically took up. The Bulblins pushed past them without a second glance. Link huffed out a sigh of relief, clutching his side in pain when he stretched to quickly.

"Looks like we fooled them," Dagg muttered, resuming their false conversation. Several doctors in white coats stood several feet away and rushed after the Bulblins when they shouted in anger from down the hall. "And we've been found out; in here, quickly!" he added, diving into an open doorway, Link right behind him.

The room they were in was spacious and devoid of any furniture. Link blinked against their harsh glare; the light came from several strings of lanterns hanging above him. The wall across from him was covered in drawers, each of them with a tag on the door. Dagg locked the door and flicked a switch in the wall. The lights instantly went out and Link was blinded for a minute. He heard Dagg walk past him and begin opening and closing several of the drawers.

"Ah-ha! Here we go," he said in a hushed voice. Link continued to stare in the low light in the room, unable to see. "Give me back my clothes."

"What?"

"My clothes, I need them back," Dagg said. "Goddesses, it's freezing," he added. Link undressed quickly, handing the man back his garments. Dagg was right; inside the open-spaced room it was cold. He gave Link a new paper gown, which did little against the low temperature in the room.

"Get on," he said, getting Link's attention. He turned around to see that the drawer hid a deep recess, and retracted a steel gurney when opened. Link put a hand on the metal and found it ice cold. He shivered and shook his head in protest.

"I'll die from the cold if you ask me to lie on that thing with nothing but a paper gown to protect me."

"Sorry, I forgot the dead don't feel the cold," Dagg muttered, looking about the room. "There's usually sheets in here..."

Dead? What is this place? As Dagg opened a smaller drawer, revealing stacks of white linens, Link opened a door. He nearly shouted in surprise when the drawer opened to reveal a Twili, grey and purple from death.

"Leave him be; I've put some sheets on it, so get on."

"You intend to stuff me in a drawer like a dead man?" Link asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"It's the only place I could think of where you could hide until this tides over a bit and we are able to get you out of here," Dagg explained, picking Link up and placing him on the slab when he remained still. He… he picked me up like I was a toddler!

"Here are some more sheets. Cover yourself well; we don't want you dying of hypothermia, now do we?"

"A comedian..." Link muttered as he threw sheets over himself. Dagg reached over and pulled them up to cover his face as well. He then proceeded to push the slab back in, causing Link to sit up straight, a defiant look on his face.

"How do you expect me to survive? I'll die of one thing or another; no food, water, heat, or air..."

"I'll send someone around for you in a bit. I've got to go back; they'll suspect me if I don't return soon," Dagg explained, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Now lay down; I won't lock the drawer, so don't worry."

"Why are you doing this?" Link asked, causing the bigger man to pause.

They hesitated momentarily, exchanging looks. "I am part of an underground resistance movement. We help out fugitives like yourself escape from execution," the dark-skinned man said eventually, sounding truthful to Link's ears. Before he could question him further, Dagg pushed the slab the rest of the way in and closed the door shut. True to his word, he left it unlocked. Only when he heard the door to the room shut close did he breathe a sigh of relief.

A resistance? When did that happen? And since when am I a fugitive? Link's mind raced, as he prepared himself to wait it out.