Wherever Jay had been taken, it certainly wasn't close to where he had been before.

He manages to pull himself out of bed and wobble over to the window. There were no large buildings, at least not like the ones he had seen. It looks like a place that would be on the outskirts of the district. The sky is in an orange haze. It was dusk, it has to have been at least a couple of hours. A cool irritation suddenly washes over him.

"Dammit…she's going to kill me," He speaks to himself, raking a hand through his hair. It was completely messy, probably from what happened before.

Despite how well his wound is dressed, it still hurts. Immensely. Jay tries carefully to put little weight on it. The man had helped him, yes, but Jay couldn't exactly find gratitude in his heart when he has been dumped in some random apartment with little ability to walk. Although, he couldn't help but wonder why the Fox bothered with him. The police could have helped, probably brought him to a hospital.

With an effort he pushes himself away from the window, hobbling along the wall and into a living room area. On the coffee table sat a long, metal rod. Jay slowly moves over and picks it up, leaning against it. He supposes that was what it was for, what else?

His head begins to pound incessantly. With a groan he tightens his grip on the rod to keep from falling.

There was points in his childhood where he begun to…see things. He could see figures from the past, almost like a flashback, but he could never control it. When he was twelve he had seen a vision of himself eating cereal. It wasn't exactly the most amazing of powers when the most thrilling vision was of breakfast twenty minutes before.

Then again, he realizes that this fit may help him figure out what happen. It is rare that the flashbacks were so well-timed, this being almost uncanny. He takes a deep breath, letting the world slow down around him. It was better to just let it happen, it only hurt his head more trying to fight it.

Fizzy images appear around him, the room became much messier, as if someone was living there. He deduces that the Fox must have been staying here but packed up and left. He couldn't really blame him despite his growing irritation with the man. He must move around a lot.

A figure appears through the closed door: the Fox. In his arms was a fizzier, unconscious version of Jay. There was a thick cloth wrapped around his ankle, stained crimson. The Fox carries him across the room and into the bedroom from before. Jay follows the images, squinting as the figures flash in and out of reality. He uses the staff as leverage, swinging himself with awkward grace to the end of the bed.

He wishes with sudden yearning that he could see the vision more clearly as he watches the man pull a first aid kit from under the bed. His face was blurry and still mostly covered with his scarf. The only constant was his vivid green eyes.

Every moment he watches carefully. The Fox pulls several cylinders from his coat, dropping them rather carelessly on the floor before he begins caring for past-Jay's ankle. Jay steps forward, looking down for a closer look at the cylinders. They look like the handle and hilts of swords.

Why would he have a bunch of broken sword handles? He thinks, although the very act was beyond painful for his head.

Jay hears an altered sound of a door opening. He watches the man's head snap up, one of the cylinders shooting up from the floor. A blade extends from the hilt, trained at the open bedroom door. Jay stares at the floating weapon with a gaping mouth.

"Baise, Aiden!" It is a woman's voice, appearing in the doorway with her hands up. She was an odd looking young woman, her dark hair was pulled into a Mohawk, a couple of piercings on her face. Jay tries to concentrate on her but the image refused to be much clearer than what it was. It only served to hurt his head more.

However, Jay could detect a French accent, strangely enough, and he realizes that the woman just said a name.

Aiden.

The Fox doesn't bothering turning to her, going back to what he was doing, the sword lowering very slow before vanishing into the hilt. He speaks bluntly, "If you didn't want me trying to stab you, you should have called me before you came."

"I wanted to…Ok. Aiden…I'm sorry but what the Hell are you doing?"

The Fox, or Aiden, sighs heavily, "It's a long story."

"You are not getting away with that," The woman says with a chuckle, touching Aiden's shoulder gently. Jealousy suddenly flares in Jay's chest, but he slowly pushes it back. He at least believes the feeling is jealousy. He had a problem with that, but most of the time it ended up being fruitless.

"The kid was being used as a hostage. The asshole shot him so…"

"You kidnapped him."

"Well now, you make it sound horrible. I'm just fixing his ankle. That's it."

The woman shakes her head, crossing her arms, "You've never done something like this before."

"And you've never asked this many questions before," Aiden lifts a hand, a roll of bandages floating up to him, "I'm guessing I need to get out of here."

"Gee, how did you know?" the woman drops her arms, walking out of the room, "I'll pack things up."

Jay sees the figure of the woman vanish rather suddenly, and some of the objects in the room beginning to disappear as well. It usually meant the vision was about to end. Jay turns back to Aiden finishing off his work. The young man's brow furrows as his image becomes somehow clearer, his features becoming more distinct. He is looking down at Jay's unconscious twin, slowly reaching out and running a hand through the younger man's hair, messing with the neatness of it. Jay touches his hair, practically feeling the Fox's fingers in it.

Aiden pulls back, as if ripped from a daze, and stands, his figure abruptly vanishing as it turns toward the door.

Jay lets out a heavy sigh, blinking his eyes awake. A usual numb feeling corrupted his head as he moves past the living room and out into a blank, plain hallway. It smells of cigarettes and stale alcohol. Not the nicest of places, clearly. He passes a couple kissing against the wall, they pay no mind to the young man. They most likely don't even notice him.

When he gets down a set of stairs he sees a bored looking woman working behind a desk. She looks over at Jay, "Don't even try."

Jay frowns, "Try what?"

"That man in the coat told me if you asked about him to not tell you anything. Gave me a lot of money too."

Jay wants to think that he wasn't going to ask, but he was going to. He sighs, "Well…can you please give me directions to Greenhill Apartments?"

The woman raises an eyebrow, "Someone is in it rich, huh?" she pulls out a pad of paper and pen, scribbling down instructions, "I'd avoid the alleys here, kid. Someone like you uisn't safe in these parts."

"Great…" Jay adjusted his grip on the metal rod, taking the paper and muttering a thank you before heading out the door. He looked at the instructions, then up at the streets, sighing again, "This is going to be a long walk."

He didn't trust any of the taxi cabs. He generally didn't like people driving him, especially strangers. However, after what the woman said, he didn't exactly trust walking alone either. He was never trained in any way to protect himself, not to mention there being something noticeably childish about his physique, despite being a 22-year-old. Most didn't believe he was old enough to even drink alcohol.

Jay kicks a rock in frustration, cursing as he almost falls over. Regaining his balance he moves a couple more blocks. Nothing was familiar, though he had only been there for a couple of hours before he was shot by the criminal and carried off by the Fox.

In the meantime he thinks about the vision he had, and the Fox, his name…Aiden.

"I don't think I'm supposed to know that," Jay says to himself, turning a corner. A bright sign illuminated the street, Jay could hear an awkward, loud beat as he stood under the LED of the structure. It is some sort of club from the looks of it. Although, the beat was completely hideous. If there was anything Jay hated more than anything, it was bad music.

He looks at a sign next to the line of people awaiting the bouncer's approval: Dot ConneXion. Whatever the club is, it must be popular, despite the terrible sounds coming from it. He steps toward a person in line that looked friendly, an attractive young man with hair dyed purple and pale grey eyes. The stranger looks over when he notices Jay's staring, and smirks.

"Whatcha staring at, kid?" He asks.

Jay adjusts his gaze, "Is this place always this popular?"

The stranger raises an eyebrow, "Are you new or something?"

"Yeah, and I heard the terrible music and I was curious," Jay says simply, shrugging.

The stranger chuckles, "Yeah, the music is shit."

"Then why is it so popular?"

"Because it's the best club in the district in terms of everything else. And you know when you hear bad music long enough you just get used to it."

That isn't true for Jay, whenever he heard terrible music, he only wanted to fix it. He looks back at the entrance, "How can I get in?" part of his brain nagged him about finding his home, but it didn't take long for the rest of him to realize how infinitely little he cared.

The stranger looks at him for a long moment, as if contemplating something else entirely. Shaking his head he reaches over, pulling Jay over the rope to stand next to him, despite the angry complaints from behind him. He tells Jay, "You seem like a cool guy mate, so you get a free invitation. My name's Wick, by the way."

Jay smiles, "Jay."

The two shuffle through the line slowly. Wick asks curiously about Jay's ankle, in which he replies that he was bitten by a dog. The young man never found it hard to lie, he's lied his whole life, about his powers, about when he snuck out of the house, everything. Wick had almost seemed to notice, or at least it had looked like he did from the raise of his eyebrow at Jay's expertly crafted excuses. However, he had not called him out on it, so Jay pushes the concern from his mind.

When they step toward the bouncer, Wick shows him a shiny card reflecting off the neon lights. The man's dark eyes look toward Jay expectantly, who only stares at him sheepishly. His new friend moves between them, whispering in the bouncer's ear, slipping something in his pocket. The man nods, gesturing to the door. Wick leads Jay inside with a large grin on his face.

"Did you just bribe him?" Jay chuckles, the hallway they enter dropping to a navy-black haze. Wick, however, doesn't answer. He pulls Jay past a room full of dancing bodies, colorful lights flashing and sparking from a balcony overlooking the dance floor. Jay stares, dragging his feet to try and see more of the room. If the music wasn't so heinous, he might just think he is in heaven.

"Over here," Wick speaks sharply, yanking Jay into a room lit only by a couple of hazy orange lights. A couple of plush couches sat up against the walls with a table in the middle of them for drinks.

"Ah, what's going on?" Jay asks, putting his hands in the pocket of his tail coat.

Wick turns away from him. Jay realizes that he is taking contacts out of his eyes. "You can take yours out too, mate. Too many lights here for anyone to notice your eyes."

Jay stares, sucking in a breath, "Wait…how did you—?"

His new friend laughs, looking back at him with bright, silvery eyes, "Can't you sense other people like you?"

"Ah…no…" Jay hates himself for saying that, for even having to say that in the first place.

"What kind of psychic are you? I sense you from a mile away, mate. Pretty powerful stuff," He grins, "Maybe the Fox rubbed off on you a bit."

"What do you mean?" He is just acting dumb now, but his mind was whirling.

"Word with the gifted say they saw you carried off by the Fox. A lot of people want to know about him, you know," There is something distantly aggressive in his tone, but Jay couldn't detect it very well, more that his curiosity was more important.

"I can't say I know much…I was unconscious. When I woke up he was gone," Jay explains, rubbing the back of his neck.

Wick seems disappointed, but smiles, "Guess I couldn't expect anything less. Sorry if I scared you there, mate. Just…I've never heard of the Fox caring enough to heal someone," he gestures to Jay's ankle pointedly.

Jay laughs a little, tracing circles on his metal staff with his thumb, "Right…"

Wick tilts his head, "Take those damn contacts out."

The young man smiles, doing as he says, blinking away the misty feeling. Wick leans forward, looking at them carefully, "Bloody Hell, maybe he just liked your eyes, mate. You shouldn't have to hide those."

Jay blushes slightly, "Thanks…I wish I didn't have to either."

The friend smirks, walking past him and out of the room, holding it open with his body he points up at the balcony, "The DJ isn't even trying up there. I bet you can do better."

Jay steps out, looking up at the blinking machines up on the pedestal, "I've never done anything like that."

"Here, I'll help you," Wick steps away from the door, holding his hand toward the balcony. The man standing at the machines looks up, he rocks back and for before collapsing.

Jay's eyes widen, staring at Wick with concern, "What the fuck?"

"Relax, he's just taking a nap. Go on." He says as the club begins to quiet.

Jay looks up at the balcony, heading up the stairs and to the loads of brilliantly lit machines. The DJ was breathing peacefully, lying on the floor. The sleeping man was wearing a poorly crafted mask. He pushes him away and, as an afterthought, taking the mask and slipping it over his face. He'd rather be anonymous for when the man eventually woke up. He turns around, looking with confusion at all the buttons.

"Oh come on, Jay, you've always wanted to do this," He speaks to himself, touching the controls, testing random sounds. There was no way he could learn how to use all the controls by the time the crowd would want music again.

He curses under his breath, he thinks of the music he could be playing if he knew how to work the dumb buttons. Closing his eyes, melodies beat in his mind. Absently, he feels his hand move away tapping his fingers to the thought. He hears a couple clicks, some scratching, some sound.

Jay opens his eyes, seeing several bits and bobs have moved, the sound he wanted flooding through the speakers. Somehow, he was able to translate his thoughts to what the buttons.

"I didn't know I could do that…" he says in disbelief.

He tests it again, finding another set of tones, imagining them, feeling the vibrations of the notes. His hands barely touch the controls, he watches them move by themselves. He laughs, laughs like a child in a candy store. His crystal eyes shining against the laser lights as he watches the patrons take to the dance floor.

He scans the crowd for his purple-haired friend, who seems to have disappeared. Jay shrugs it off with a smile, getting absorbed in his work he felt a natural connection to. Beneath the mask, a smile arises on his lips.