I apologize for the double post, but this is the quickest for you guys to realize I've written something...
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It'd been a long time since Chaos had had to use his excellent voice-mimicking skills, but here he was, wearing the bugs, trying his best to sound like Nero as he carried out the mission. Nero was still by the bushes, himself admitting it wasn't okay to let himself break into the building- if he accidentally killed someone in his current mental state, it would very likely cause him to shatter. Nero could already see enough blood on his hands- he didn't need more.
Occasionally Chaos had to grunt things to himself, acting out a usual playful banter between him and his best friend, making sure to keep any hint of pity or tension out of his voice. Nero had enthusiastically volunteered (more like forced his way in and kicked everybody else out) for the jib, and now Chaos had to act all bubbly and happy. If there was anything more difficult, someone had to explain what.
He broke into the building easily, thankful to have a reason to stop his ceaseless chatter, carefully sneaking through hallways and avoiding guards. And getting into the security room, knocking out everybody, and essentially hi-jacking the system. He decided to be an over-achiever and turned off the Internet, and the electricity while he was at it. The jail immediately darkened, but emergency power still allowed everything to be visible. Chaos slipped out, hearing panic from both prisoners and guards alike. His next stop was the archives.
They weren't too hard to find- he'd been in buildings like this enough times that he could guess where everything was- bathrooms, closets, cells, office, etc. He took out a miniature flashlight and grasped it firmly between his teeth, searching through the files until he arrived at the section with Mark. He quickly read it over, elation and a sick joy spreading over him. Mark was dead. He'd been executed just a few days prior. This was the truth, he could feel it.
He almost skipped out of the building, the inky blackness and confusion giving him the perfect amount of cover needed for a clean escape. He then remembered the bug, and had to stop himself from happily announcing, "Guess what? That bastard Mark is dead." Instead, he said, "Mark is dead. He was executed a few days ago.
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Aeyra dropped her iTouch, and it clattered onto the pavement below as it grew silent- Mark dead, there was no way. Even Aeyra, who'd given up hope the moment Nero announced his suspicion, could not help but stand in shock, trying to figure out what emotion to feature next. Mark was dead. Gone. And no rescue mission could get him back from heaven or hell, whichever one he ended up in.
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Chaos approached his friend slowly, taking in Nero's curled, defensive position, head in his knees, not crying, but motionless, still grieving in his own Nero-ish way.
"Buddy, turn them off, will you?" asked Chaos gently, motioning to the bugs.
Nero looked up, blinking reddened green eyes, nodding as he muttered, "Deactivate." He then resumed his miming of a ball, while Chaos relaxed next to him.
"Nero... Mark's dead," said Chaos emotionlessly, wondering if the other blond boy even cared. "He was executed, just like you said."
"I'm always right, never doubt that," rasped Nero in a scratchy voice, the laughing undertone making Chaos's worry lessen a bit. "Chaos... While our problems aren't the same, do you know how to handle them? I've suppressed it all these years, and now it's springing back at full-force, and I don't know what to do. Now after saying that to you, I can't close my eyes, because I see blood everywhere, and I see my mom laying on the floor. How do you see Laela in your dreams?"
Chaos hesitated, taking a minute before answering. "In the beginning, all I could dream about was that night, her head in my arms, the fading light in her eyes, and her gentle good-bye whisper in my ear. But now, we're separated by a glass wall, one that divides the living and the dead. I'm so close to her, so close that I could taste her breath, but the only part of her I have is how she looks. I can't hear what she's saying, can't touch her, can't cross that damn barrier. It's getting better though, it's getting less painful, but I know I'll always dream of Laela." Chaos looked over and Nero, and saw the green-eyed boy giving the smallest of smiles.
"So maybe one day I won't be so frightened. Every time I dream, I'm only five again, and I feel the fear. But at the same time, I'm fifteen, and I can feel the full weight of what I've done. If it had been anyone but the Organization, I'd have been locked up in an asylum. I'll survive knowing they'll affect me less and less." The side of Nero's mouth twitched. "Or I could just drink coffee to keep from sleeping."
"Don't," advised Chaos, sympathy in his eyes. "The faster you confront it, the less difficult it is. It's only so bad now because you've never faced your problems head-on."
"So no coffee?"
"No coffee," Chaos confirmed.
"Dammit."
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How was it? *yawns* So tired..