Oliver was settled on the edge of his bed, affixing the buttons of his nightshirt when rapid knocks hit his bedroom door. He jumped, staring at the wood panels in alarm. If he opened the door, several, big, scary police officers could tackle him to the ground, and shout violent things in his ear! Another round of hits prompted him off the bed, and closer to the door.

"W-who," Oliver moistened his lips to speak more clearer. "Who is it?"

"It's Matt."

"Matt?" He gasped, clawing at the lock. Sure enough, on the other side of the door, no police officers stood, but the gruff blond was there. "You are still here?!"

Matt raised his eyebrows. "I was going to say the same thing." He looked down the hall, and nodded. "Oliver's all right."

"Who-"

Flavio and Siegmund crept forth, staring with equally wide eyes. The former snorted, "This is what is left of us? There's half of us missing!"

"What," Matt glowered, "Even my brother?"

Oliver dropped his eyes to the floorboards. "He is...Allen was taken away, too. We only bumped into one another at the end. He said he had to leave. The police knew who they were looking for."

Flavio shook his head. "Why were the police even here-"

Matt suddenly hollered, "You fucker!" Oliver yelped, jumping back when his arm swung and collided with the adjacent wall. Siegmund scrambled to grab his shoulders, and give them a worried shake. "Allen...you asshole."

Oliver peeked pass his door frame. Matt's hand was embedded in a hole in the cheap wooden wall. The blond ripped his arm away, and plucked the shards stuck in his skin as if he were removing clothing. Siegmund rubbed the offended limb, pressing closer to his back. "He knew. He knew that if I got to him before the police did, I would have gone with him! I should have been there with him when they were dropping off the guns! Instead I..." he trailed off as the mute stepped back, his arms still held up where he was rubbing his shoulders.

"You were keeping Siegmund company, Matt." Oliver said quietly, not wanting to be the next target of those swinging fists. "If you were jailed, he would have been left alone. He already had his brother ripped away from him. Don't make it worse for the both of you."

Flavio tisked, "We all lost our brothers. All of us."

"They are not gone forever," Oliver tried, but Siegmund slouched against the further wall, crossing his arms.

"Of course not," Matt grumbled, only glancing in Oliver's direction. "The cops most likely took them to juvenile detention. Once they turn into legal adults, they'll get let out, unless they do something stupid."

"Again," Flavio put in. He shrugged as the other blond scowled. "That is more than a year for all of them, especially Lutz. He is the youngest out of all of us."

"Flavio," Oliver warned.

"What? We need to talk about this. Ignoring it and moping will not make it all better."

"I am not trying to make it all better!" Matt spat, finally pushing from his wall. "I just...ugh!"

"I know, I know!" Oliver held his hands up. "We all lost somebody, but you have to remember, so did Crookednose. At least half of them, too, are gone. We are still a team, and we should keep acting like it. We should meet up in the dining hall, share breakfast, and look out for one another...right?"

Flavio curled his nose. "Do we still have to do that buddy system? There are only four of us."

"Well, maybe we will be safe without it..."

Matt echoed, "You think."

"They will be laying low as well. It would be stupid to get the police to turn back so soon."

"I'm fine with it," Flavio shrugged. "There's no reason to dramatically change our lives because some part of them is temporary missing."

"Fine," Matt turned to Siegmund still bracing himself against some panels. "Just keep in mind when those parts come back from their temporary leave, they are going to get their assess kicked." The mute brightened at that, and straightened, taking Matt's offered hand. Flavio and Oliver exchanged pleased looks.

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

When he awoke the next morning, Oliver stretched his legs, and his toes hit the footboard of his bed. With a small "Ow," he retracted his sore legs back into their bent position.

"Yahoo, Oliver!" Lila's voice chirped from the other side of his pillow. When the teen only replied with a non-committal grunt, she shambled to sit on the side of his head. "Wakey, wakey!"

"Ugh!" Oliver picked up his head, blinking to complete consciousness. The fairy squeaked in alarm, and slid back onto the pillow. "I suppose I have to wake up." He flicked the covers away from himself, and stumbled to the bathroom on rubbery limbs. The boy just finished scrubbing his face dry when there was a knock against the other door. He instinctively jumped when any noise came from the direction of his neighbor's bedroom. "What?"

"Are you done in there?" That snotty voice called out. "I am going to pee down my leg."

Oliver considered saying that was a good thing, but he decided to be a mature young man about their exchange, and opted to be silent. He slapped the towel back on its handle, and marched out of the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind him. Lila was tugging on his bed sheets to cover the pillow as he usually did. "I can do that!"

"I got it!" Lila insisted. She dropped a corner against the wall, and fluttered to the other side. "You got to change into clean clothes!"

"Yes, Mum," Oliver turned to his dresser. After they were both finished, the fairy flew over and nuzzled into his hair.

"What are we going to do today?"

"Go to the bakery, that is certain. Other than that..."

"We can get apples for Gizmo!" Lila suggested before Oliver could say something gloomy.

That would be a few minutes knocked away. Oliver smiled, "Oh, what is this, you being nice to Gizmo? Did you not say he smells?"

"He did help us yesterday."

The teen stuffed his wallet and keys into his trousers' pocket. "If you say so!" He twisted around to lock his bedroom door, and breezed down the corridor.

"Hey!" Lila spat. Oliver's heels clacked against the floorboards in quick movements. "Hey Ollie!" She said again when he entered the dining hall. Oliver made a noise of acknowledgement as his eyes swept the eating area. It was surely much more unoccupied. His usual table had Siegmund sitting at it already, munching on a piece of toast. He raised a pale hand, and waved.

"I saw that golden haired boy again!"

"What golden haired boy?" Oliver's voice was lower around the other inhabitants. Siegmund furrowed his eyebrows, seeing that his mouth moved, but could not hear. "I am going to get something to eat." The mute bobbed his head, and gobbled down the rest of his bread.

As Oliver grabbed two apples, Lila said, "The boy that looks like you! I think he was looking for something when I saw him. I popped out of the bushes like, 'Huzzah!' and he freaked out!"

"Was that necessary?" Oliver grumbled, his voice very low around his Housemates browsing the breakfast platters.

Lila giggled, proud of what she done. "Maybe you should try to talk to him again!"

"Maybe..."

"Oliver!" Another voice caught him on the way back to his table. He turned in the direction of one of the girls from the metal benches. "Hey, Oliver," she started again, more calm and careful.

"Hello, dear. Are you all right?"

The girl sniffled. "Are you? The police came by and took a lot of people away yesterday!"

"None of you, right?"

She swung her head side to side. "We tried staying out of it. I thought those dangerous boys were going to get nagged, but not all of them did!"

"No, they did not."

Lila let out a sad sound. The girl continued, "It's weird that only some of them were captured, you know? Siegmund is right over there, and I saw Crookednose and some of his pals still creeping around. It seems like they just took a few guys to prove a point."

Oliver clenched his hands into fists along his sides. "Yes, it does seem that way."

"Be careful," she said more sadly, and tapped his arm. "We're still around if you need to talk to us."

"I will. Thank you," Oliver turned away toward his usual table. Breakfast was dreadfully boring. The four left behind ate their food in silence, save for the exchange of odd hand gestures between Siegmund and Matt. Flavio picked at his nails more than his fruit. The baker went on a limb to announce, "I am going to go to the bakery later. Would anyone like to go, too?"

"Me!" Lila cheered.

Matt said, "We went there yesterday. I was thinking of doing something else today."

Flavio turned his head away. "I have plans."

Oliver wondered why they gave him vague answers instead of saying they did not want to go. He fretfully sighed, "Well, if that is so, I will be going now." They did not spare glances in his direction. Not doting on their low moods, since he could relate, he quietly rose from the table with a leftover apple, and hurried to the double doors. The teen passed Miss Warden without a word, although she set her book down for him.

"Gizmo?" Oliver called out once the front door clamped shut. "Gizmo, I have apples!"

An excited hiss broke through the bare trees. A fuzz ball of white slunk through the branches, and dropped down the bark of the plant closest to Oliver. "Another cold day." Gizmo greedily reached out a small hand.

Oliver handed over the apple. "It will only get worse."

"My pelt can handle the snow, different Realm or not. As long as I have apples, I can brave through the winter."

"Thank you for yesterday," the boy clasped his hands in front of himself to occupy them. "If you have not warned me, I would have not seen Allen one last time."

The cat-monkey's tail twitched as it lifted its flat muzzle from the fruit. "You give me food. It was my gratitude." Its feline ears flattened as it glanced toward the back yard when a loud whoop echoed across the property. Oliver jumped from the annoying noise. "If you wish not to be confronted by the remains of those troublesome children, you should leave immediately. The cold winds have no effects on their hearts."

Oliver did not bother watching Gizmo scramble up the tree, but he heard the discarded apple core land on the ground with a quick thump as he pelted toward the front gate. Better safe than possibly cut up from retaliation; the boy rather been caught running away than face the bloodlust of his neighbor's posse. The gate slammed shut, but Oliver continued running down the town's walkways until his legs, lungs, and Lila begged him to stop.

"Woo..." he heavily panted as the fairy readjusted herself from being jostled halfway across town. Passersby took the opportunity of his feet cobbling down the street from exertion to glare, but their eyes had no sting against him.

"Hey!" Lila called out. "There's the bakery!"

A baker belongs in a bakeshop; Oliver let out a soothed sigh, inhaling the eternal scents of oven warmed goods that welcomed him in a blanket of hospitality. There were no fresh batches wafting in the air, however, and the kitchen lights were off. "Bella?" The boy called out, and flicked up the light switch.

"Bella!" Oliver turned to the other doorway, and set a foot on the first step of the dark staircase. Only silence answered him. After a moment of waiting, he slowly ascended the stairs. The upstairs kitchen and living room were only bright from the natural red sunlight. He crept toward the narrow hallway leading to the bathroom and the elder's bedroom. Her door was cracked, but the teen did not push it open further. Instead, he called out her name once more.

A startled snort erupted on the other side, causing Oliver to warily step away from the wall. "Who is there?"

"Bella, it is Oliver."

"And Lila!"

Oliver swished a hand at the fairy on his head, and she smacked him back.

The elder was quiet for a few ragged breaths. "Oh, Oliver, is it that time to open shop already?"

"Yes, but you can stay in bed if you are not feeling up to-"

"No, no, I need to walk around for a bit." Anabella groaned as her mattress springs squeaked under her movements. The elder opened the door, shuffling to the bathroom in her slippers and nightgown.

Oliver turned away politely as she closed the door. "I will be downstairs," he called out, but doubted she listened.

"She's sick again," Lila murmured.

"She has been sick," the teen pointed out. He gave his bowtie a tug to fix its crookedness, and padded to the front window. As he flipped the 'closed' sign (with little stars and a moon) to the 'open' side (with sunshine and flowers), a man passed by, and stared into the bakery. Oliver offered a docile smile, but a brief look of shock reached the stranger's eyes before he hurried along.

"Oh, goodness!" Oliver slapped a hand to his chest. "I cannot let a stranger smile at me! Everyone will think I am going bonkers!"

Lila scolded, "Now, that poor man is traumatized!"

"Poor thing," he rolled his eyes at the pedestrians bumbling about, and moved away from the glass. Faint steps and creaks permeating through the ceiling made his eyes flicker up to the sounds. He said more sincerely, "Poor Bella!" With no orders in the book, the kitchen being tidy, and no deliveries for Nikolai that day, he could look forward to relaxing and talking to his boss, who just happened to be an old friend.

Just for the both of them, Oliver started a kettle to boil for tea on the stovetop. Lila sighed, rustling in his hair, most likely from not having stimulation. He had to agree; watching steam blow from a nozzle was not the best entertainment. More footsteps skidded along the tiled floors, and eventually creaked down the stairs. Anabella shuffled into the kitchen, and the boy greeted her with a warm smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept too much," Bella admitted. She eyed the kettle on the stove, slack jawed.

"I am making tea for the both of us. I-if that is all right."

"The water is already boiling." Anabella turned away to cough. Oliver's simper fell. He put his worries on flicking the heat off, and pouring the water in the ceramic mugs without spilling it all over the counter. His boss, after her throat was clear, reached in the fridge for a jug of milk, and dragged her feet to fetch some sugar. "No reservations?"

"Not yet."

"It looks like it will be quiet for now. Can you carry my cup to one of the tables?" Anabella's voice cracked, "I will be out in a moment."

"Of course," Oliver murmured. He grabbed the mugs, and left the kitchen without a glance back. He felt his hair twitch as Lila fidgeted when Anabella's fierce coughs echoed across the empty shop. The short clink of the cups hitting the table top, and the chair dragging along the floor only covered a small part of the horrid noises.

"Ollie," the fairy started. Oliver brought his cup to his lips, and flinched as the tea smacked him. "Oh!" She exclaimed at his twitching. "Too hot?"

Oliver set the mug back on the table, face puckering. "No, I made it sweet. Very sweet." He sighed, staring at the pale liquid. He was starting to get cold as the winter air, and his shoulders felt too light. The teen entertained the thought of floating away without a strong arm draped over them.

Anabella emerged from the kitchen. "When you sit there like that, you look lonely."

"You are here with me, Bella."

"I said you look lonely, not alone." The elder slowly lowered herself in one of the chairs, and clutched onto her cup, but did not drink from it. "What bothers you, young man?"

The small sprinkle-like designs on the tabletop held Oliver's interest. "The police came by yesterday." His boss' expression morphed into one of guarded fright. "Do you remember how I kept saying some boys were carrying weapons, and made it dangerous to go outside?"

"Oh dear..."

Oliver stared down his steaming tea. "Some...Housemates of mine decided that it went on long enough, and launched a counterattack. They stripped the bullies of their weapons so they could not use them to harm anyone, and took them places to exchange the guns for money. It was good for everyone."

"Who called the police?"

"Our best guess is that it was those blokes that had their toys taken from them. They turned the blame on my friends, claiming that they were the ones the police have been searching for."

"Then the good guys were blamed," Anabella tapped her fingertip to her mouth in thought. Her eyebrows raised in realization. "Was it...was it any of our boys?"

"Allen is gone."

Both of them, plus Lila, even though she did not have her own cup, frowned at their teas. The liquid was no longer appealing, but Oliver clung onto his mug for warmth. His boss softly cleared her throat. "It may sound silly," she began, "but this is just another bump in the ride of life. Would you wait in line for a straight track?"

The teen made a puttering noise in place of laughter. "No, I suppose not."