It was dark. An unnatural kind of dark.

It wasn't as though the lights were off, the blinds shut… no. It was darker than that. It was a darkness Silas knew. He wanted to wish it weren't true, yet he already knew the familiarity of the darkness, already felt that strange feeling in his head that always came with the darkness…

Silas slowly moved a hand up to his eyes. His breathing hitched as he felt the cloth that was on his eyes. No, he thought. No, why? Why now? Why this again? I thought it was done! Please, no, no, no….

He fell to his knees, gripping at the cloth. He pulled at it desperately, but it wouldn't come off. He started to shake. No… no… why is this happening? he thought bitterly. He let his hands drop, tears beginning to soak the cloth.

Then he awoke. He sat up with a jump, eyes flying open. He was immediately overwhelmed with joy as he could see. He took deep breaths, looking up slowly at the roof. He could see. The cloth wasn't back. He was alright, he could see… he could see.

He wiped at the tears in his eyes, glancing around the room. He met the eyes of Aarav, looking at him with a worried expression. Silas gave a small smile, shaking his head. Aarav nodded slightly, looking away.

Silas stared at Aarav a moment. Aarav's eyes had closed now, his chest moving up and down in a rhythmic way. If Silas hadn't seen his eyes only moments before, he would have thought Aarav had truly fallen asleep. Aarav often did this, acted as though he was asleep, to avoid Silas speaking to him. It didn't stop Silas, of course.

"You do love staring," Aarav said. His voice was smooth, and quite deep. Silas let a small, real smile cross his face. Aarav's voice often showed he was unamused with Silas.

"I have to make up for all the missed times," he said, smile faltering a little. He shook his head, trying to forget the cloth.

Aarav opened his eyes now, shifting. He stretched, grunting as he glanced at Silas. He felt his lips twist into a smile despite himself. He shook his head, looking away. For a twenty-two year old, Silas truly did seem so much younger. People often thought he was only a teen still. Though, the way he acted, spoke, looked… Aarav would have thought so too, had he not already known.

Aarav took a breath, going to speak again. A sharp knock on the door turned both of their attention away, though.

"Is it a new month already?" Silas muttered, frowning.

"Shit… payday, isn't it?" Silas nodded at Aarav's question slowly.

Silas stood, sighing quietly. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, looking into it. He counted the dollars quietly for a moment. Of course, they had just enough money to pay the 'protection fee' this month. But next month? He wasn't so sure about that.

Job openings were getting fewer and fewer every day. Gigs, usually the only thing Silas could really get, were becoming less and less. More people were coming into the growing city of Galet every day, making it difficult for Silas to find any jobs.

And what if he did get a job? Say no one thought he was too young and inexperienced, due to his looks – what if he got one? What would he even get? >Maybe< ten dollars a week, just to be kicked out again? To pay the monthly protection fee, he'd need far more than that.

Silas chewed his lip a little. Aarav raised an eyebrow, looking at Silas skeptically. He didn't like when Silas did that – usually, whenever he did this, it meant he was thinking about doing something. Whatever happened next, often was not a good idea. Silas' eyes flicked to the door as an even sharper knock came, and Aarav watched him frown.

"Hear me out…," Silas said slowly. Aarav groaned, putting his head back. He knew he had been right, but he had still hoped this time would be different. "We… should skip town."

Aarav lifted his head, staring at Silas. He barely registered the knocking coming back, even harder than ever before. He stared at Silas, completely baffled. Had he really just said what Aarav thought? No, perhaps – perhaps he'd heard him wrong. Even now, as Silas was gathering the few items that he owned, Aarav had trouble believing him.

"Are… you serious?" he asked. Silas nodded, not even looking at Aarav.

"You… you've gone insane," Aarav breathed. "Absolutely insane!"

That seemed to be the only reason for Silas to suggest something so stupid, so reckless. Why else would be seriously be considering this? Now Silas looked at him, smiling.

"Perhaps," he said. The smiled faltered for a moment, giving Aarav an almost pleading look. "But really, Aar… think about it. We could get out of here! We could run away from all this – this –," he waved his hand a bit, gesturing randomly. "This corruption! Doesn't that sound amazing to you too?"

Another bang came to the door. This time, the two could hear a man yelling a threat from the other side. "If you don't open this door, Ace, I'll tear your damn throat out!" a gruff voice protruded. Aarav shot the door an annoyed, hateful look.

Silas ignored the blatant threat towards him. He was almost upset that these corrupt people knew his last name, but it wasn't his fault; he had never given it, they had simply found it, in some way he still didn't know.

"Yes, Silas," Aarav said, standing. "That >does< sound good… too good to be true. Because it can't be true! We would never get out of here. The don's got people everywhere, you know that. You run, they'd tear you to shreds in mere seconds… but sure, Si, say we do get out of here. Where would we go? How would we get there?"

Now, the door began to splinter. Silas gave it a nervous look. He knew it wasn't very sturdy; it would break soon, he knew. And when it did, he'd be in a lot of trouble.

"You want to talk him out of killing me for opening the door late, then?" Silas asked. Aarav paused, looking at the door. "We either die trying or we get somewhere good."

"Or," Aarav said, "we just give the damn don his damn money-"

">His< money, Aarav? >Hismy< money! I worked hard for this – why does >he< get to just come in and take it?" Silas asked stubbornly. Aarav was getting angrier now.

"Silas," he said slowly. "We've talked about this a million times. There's nothing we can do! Please, Si, just –" he seemed to be pleading now, rather than trying to convince him "—just give them the fee. We'll figure something out, we always do. We don't have to run."

Silas gave a wry smile. "But it would be fun, wouldn't it?"

Aarav went quiet, biting his tongue. He wished his lie would have convinced Silas. But he was smarter than that. He knew that not running wasn't an option, not now. He knew it would take far more than that to convince Silas. A lot more time – time they didn't have, he knew, looking at the door.

Quietly, Silas approached the door. He heard footsteps retreating, telling him the man had backed up from the door. He knew he was trying to shove the door down. At the last moment, Silas opened the door.

The man sent to collect their protection fee crashed to the floor, not expecting no resistance. A nasty pop sounded, telling the two that the man had landed wrong and was injured in some way. The man grunted, gritting his teeth.

That little shit will pay for – but as he looked up, he saw no one. Silas had disappeared.

Silas ran down the random alleys that were spread out along Galet. He had grown up here, known it for so long. These backroads he knew especially – and he knew it was highly unlikely that anyone would be back here, even druggies. They were narrow and riddled with high fences – Silas jumped them easily, having done it many times.

Finally, Silas had to stop. He hid behind a dumpster, panting heavily. He almost immediately regretted his hiding spot, as the terrible smell was unrelentless. He quickly pushed the thought away, needing to focus. Aarav stood in the middle of the alley, looking at Silas to make sure he was alright.

Now, Aarav looked down the alley, keeping watch. He couldn't be seen by anyone – other than Silas – making him the perfect lookout. He scowled. "You're an idiot," he hissed.

Despite himself, Silas grinned. "Aren't I? Oh, and its so fun!" he giggled. He took a deep breath, trying to get serious again. "Alright, plan, plan… Pat – the bus driver – he takes people from town to town, right?" Pat was known among the locals to let people get on without the Don's permission, practically smuggling them out of this town.

Silas frowned a little. It was extremely brave, what the sixty-odd year old did. If the don were aware of what went on, he'd have the poor old man killed. No one would ever find him.

"Where would we go, Si? Still haven't thought of that one," Aarav said, voice laced with bitterness. Silas waved the comment away with his hand.

"Anywhere but here, Aar. Relax, we'll be fine," Silas said encouragingly. Aarav scowled again.

"Oh, I'm >sorry<," he hissed bitterly. "I'm not a huge fan of running from >extremely< powerful men!"

"Corrupt men," Silas corrected. Aarav scoffed.

"All the better not to piss them off," he muttered. He bit his cheek as he turned his attention back to the end of the alley. Then his eyes widened, and he muttered a small curse.

"That little shit's somewhere near here!" Silas heard a gruff voice call. "Find him – but keep him alive! The Don wants to tear him to shreds himself."

Aarav watched the people closely, waiting for them to move away so he could tell Silas to run. Silas resisted the urge to peek around the corner, especially when Aarav gave another curse, looking visibly concerned.

"Alright," Aarav said, instinctively quiet, even though he couldn't be heard by others. "Two people are coming down here… when I say run, run, understand?"

Silas gave a curt nod. The two men slowly got closer, checking every little spot that Silas could be hiding in, pistols drawn and ready. They came just about to the end of the dumpster when Aarav hit them. It was over quite quickly; without seeing what you are to hit, there's an exceedingly small chance you will hit anything.

The men didn't know what happened in the seconds before they were face down on the concrete, a bit of blood spilling out from under their heads. Silas quickly looked away from the scene as Aarav glanced up.

"Run," Aarav ordered.

Immediately, Silas did as he was told, standing, and running. As he did, he mentally mapped out the way to Pat's bus stop. It was the final bus stop of this town before the old man would move on to other towns. Silas bit his cheek. If he didn't make it, if Pat left, then… he shuddered, shaking the image of his lifeless body in front of that damned Don from his head.

Silas' eyes widened as he was brought back to reality. He saw Pat's bus finish picking up all the people at the stop. He quickened his pace, his legs aching from the running already. It was a good ache, though. It didn't scream at him to stop, more as though telling him to keep going. To run to the freedom that awaited him.

Just before the doors shut, Pat saw him. He allowed for Silas to jump on the bus. A worried look came over his face as he saw the state Silas was in. There were only a few others on the bus, looking in shock at the sweaty, panting mess that had just appeared on the bus.

"Silas? The hell you doin here, boy?" Pat asked. He had a gruff voice, yet it held no anger; it mostly held kindness, truth be told. Silas glanced over his shoulder, relieved to see he hadn't been caught yet. He knew it would only take a matter of minutes before they realized he was skipping town.

"I need to leave," Silas said quickly, turning his attention to Pat again. "I need to get out of this town, >now<."

The worried look on Pat's face quickly turned to understanding, an almost sad look. He nodded, smiling kindly as the door shut. "Alright. Sit down, son," he said, gesturing to the seat directly behind him.

Silas slid into the seat as the bus began to move. He glanced out the window. As always, Aarav was beside him. Silas closed his eyes just a moment, relieve to see no one had come to watch as the bus left. He opened them again, looking at the bus driver through the mirror.

"Thank you," he said. "You really—"

But Pat held up his hand, cutting Silas off. "Don't thank me now, boy. Not with yer words. Thank me by gettin the hell outta this place, alright? Make a life for yerself. Yer young, ya still have a life in front of ya – thank me, by not throwing that life away. Make something of yerself, understand?"

Silas' ears went pink. This was perhaps the only time he hadn't gotten bitter being referred to as young. Of course, he was – especially compared to the sixty-something driving the bus. Slowly, Silas nodded. Yes, that is what he would do. He would make a life for himself.