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Those hateful eyes bore down onto the bleeding boy laying dormant on the floor. He had come to know his limits throughout the years. He didn't want to kill Talis, of course not. Just force him to feel and realize just how enraged he actually was. Gaze observing Talis thoughtfully, he thought what bruises that would form later on would be sufficient enough punishment... for the moment.

Leaning over, the white-haired man grabbed a handful of Talis's hair to lift him up a few inches from the ground. "I will not tolerate anymore of your screw-ups!" he growled in the other's face before practically slamming him back onto the ground. "No more!" With that he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, causing it to create such an echo, it sounded as if it would come right off its hinges.

There were always those few times in life when one had to question whether each breath they took, the muddled awareness of their surroundings, and the labored way a tired, racing heart beat within their chest all added up to mean that they were still living.

This was one of those moments for Talis Gadien. He had felt that hateful, malicious gaze pierce his body until in such a rush, he'd been harshly pulled face-to-face with his lover and then felt his jaw crash hard into the carpeted floor. The slam rattled his battered frame.

And only moments later, a breaking realization set upon Talis. ... He was alone. Left. Could it be... he was being ... thrown away?

Every bit of evidence pointed to the horrific conclusion. He desperately tried to push himself off the ground quickly to make haste after the man, but he'd only been raised to his hands and knees when the aftermath of those blows to his stomach tore at his middle. "RADEVEL!" he shouted hoarsely at the closed door. Pointlessly. Uselessly.

Talis's worst fear was confirmed.

An utter sense of emptiness overwhelmed the pains in his diaphragm and side and tears silently flowed from his brown eyes. Thought vanished from his mind. It was only seconds before he collapsed in a sobbing heap on the floor.

Perhaps it was 7.. 10... 30 minutes later, when the boy finally became aware of shower water still running. Talis weakly crawled to his feet and went to his bathroom to shut off the water. When he returned to his room, it was then he noticed the strip of pictures he and Radevel had once taken in a photobooth sticking in the corner of his mirror.

----
"I'm sorry, Rad! I didn't mean to. I just didn't realize it'd be so hot and..."
Talis had been sputtering off another apology over how sorry he was for spilling... or rather, -spitting- hot coffee all over his lover's white, designer dress shirt. The man, of course, hadn't been too keen on relenting to give the boy a taste of his coffee to begin with, but now was in an even more sour mood that Talis had spewed it over his chest.
"Of course it was hot, idiot. It's hot coffee," he'd grumbled.
But through a series of apologies, another cup of coffee, annoying yet persistent kisses here and suggestive touches there, Talis somehow managed to bring Radevel to a somewhat decent mood. And he'd stretch it as far as it would go.
"Let's get our pictures taken!" he exclaimed, pointing to a dinky photobooth offset by a few kiosks and a little girls' store. It was met with a definitive NO. But Talis persisted. "Please, Radevel! PLEASE?! I want a picture of you. I don't have a single one. I want one so that when you go on those dumb business trips I don't miss you so much and..." The youth whispered something intimately suggestive into the white-haired man's ear.

Affirmative. He got those pictures. (And they also got asked to leave the shopping center, but... at least the first two pictures of the five were romantically decent.)
----

Talis felt a wrenching feeling in his chest. Loss. Emptiness. Pain. Hurt. 'No more!' Radevel had said. No more. Talis collapsed on his bed; much as he had a day earlier, and cried.

When he couldn't stand it any longer, he pulled his duffel bag from under his bed and up onto the bed beside him. He pulled his sweatshirt back on and blew his nose.

He ran away once.

He could do it again.

Talis's room had never been in such a state of disarray. His drawers of his dresser were thrown open, his closet ransacked with sweaters heaped on the floor and haphazardly thrown over hangers. Talis stripped off his sweats and pulled on a pair of his regular, fitted jeans and a charcoal fitted-tee. He combed fingers through his unruly locks. His duffel bag was now full of the bare essentials-- while he destroyed his room, he packed hardly any of it.

When the rapping came at his door, Talis froze. He hadn't bothered to check a mirror... but he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting the barely-dried coppery blood along its surface. He felt the bruising not yet formed along his jawline and a painful reminder of those blows to his middle arose with he lifted the finished bag over his head to have the strap hang across his chest like a messenger bag.

Talis moved to the door and paused at the knob. But instead of turning it and welcoming entrance, the betrayed boy locked it. He snatched the strip of photos from his mirror and then moved to the window and pushed it open. One leg out... followed by the next...

Talis leaped out of the window and his feet hit the grass easily in the afternoon sun. He took off at a hindered run.

The wait after knocking made Radevel even more uncomfortable than he already was in the first place. Had Talis fallen unconcious, he wondered? The sound of a click, none other than that of a lock, answered his silent query. The man reached out a hand to test the knob, only to unpleasantly find it was indeed locked. He opened his mouth, clearly to say something in anger to the boy's behavior(though, one would obviously see why he would act in such a manner), but immediatly snapped it shut. He would only be adding fuel to the fire. Which in their case was probably by now a raging forest fire.

"Talis," he said, once more knocking on the door. "Open the door." .. Nothing. Only silence. His ears burned with frustration, like a tea-pot getting ready to blow its lid. A second attempt at opening the door was only to be met with another failure.

"Talis, we need to talk. Open the door." Radevel tried to force any of his anger from escaping his mouth. One could tell from his tone that he was tense. "I'm not going to do anything, alright?"

When he was met with another reign of silence, his hand enclosed the knob more tightly than ever. Trying to twist it open didn't seem to be doing much. He had known Talis to throw his fits before and lock himself in his room, but at least he usually threw the occasional insult. That way, he knew he was still in the room. But now, it was just quiet. Talis was hardly ever quiet when it came to doing anything. "Talis!" he began more insistantly.

Either way, he was going to get into that room. Stepping back at an angle, Radevel did the one thing he always did when he could think of no other, simpler option. His trusty gun was in his hand, aimed precisely at the knob. The sound of a shot, followed by the mettalic clank and ricochet resulted in the lock being blasted open. No time was wasted before Radevel pushed the door open to find....

Nothing at all. Except a room in complete disarray and.. an open window. Radevel cursed loudly as he manuevered his way to the window, looking to either side. No one there. "Dammit!" By now, he just knew Talis had taken off. He hardly trusted the boy on his own, much less out on the streets! Growling low in his throat, the white-haired man practically ran out of the room.

He had to find Talis and straighten things out.

"Hahh. Hahh. Hahh," Talis's breathing was coming out in labored pants now. He was just a few blocks from the Lair, now. The duffel bag pressed hard against his chest and the boy soon realized he was going to have to stop before he fell over from pain. It sure hadn't seemed as though the man had held back with him.

Talis usually could handle pain. He would take whatever Radevel handed him. But what made it bearable was the entertaining activity that took place after pain was given. Or the knowledge that he knew he'd truly deserved it. Or the hope that it might make the man less angry with him and keep him by his side. But Talis had received none of this. In fact, the only thing he heard before bolting was that he should open the door. Open the door. What; had Radevel missed bruising a spot?

Talis limped under the weight of the bag, straining to hold it and yet the weight driving at his gut and threatening to break him. He collapsed on the sidewalk and crawled onto the grass. Unzipping his bag, Talis threw some of his clothes out of it, until there was just a change of shirt in the bag and a sweatshirt as well as toiletries. Much lighter. Talis's hand found his ribcage and caressed over it. He winced at the light touch. With every moment, he became more and more aware of the pain those blows gave him. Acutely in his back... ribs... abdomen. He shakily stood and now trudged very slowly, half-dragging his bag.

He was little over halfway to the bus station.

Talis made it to the bus depot, breathing very laboredly. After entering the ticketing center, he found a spot and leaned tiredly against the wall. Clearly, the depot was very busy this time of day. A tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip once more, and Talis could still taste a little of the remaining dried blood crust remaining. Slightly hollow caramel eyes scanned the destinations and places to go. He had about 100 dollars in cash...

Even if he was the most naive boy in some instances, Talis did know how to get where he wanted to go. He'd run away before. He knew how subway and bus systems worked at the very least. And occasionally could figure out a road map. Simple ones... though Radevel had never let him drive or be concerned with maps before.

The clock read: 3:53pm. A four o'clock bus would be good then. Talis went up and quickly moved through the line to the window. "4 o'clock bus headed toward um, ... New York, please," he stated, pushing the money through the payment box. After receiving his pathetic amount of change, Talis moved away from the window and stowed it away. He looked up to behold something through the crowd that rooted him to the spot. A familiar face. A too familiar face. Radevel Taibal's face. Talis stood there frozen, worried if the man might see him too.

'Why is he here?!' Thoughts of terror began to run through Talis's head. Why. Was he going to kill Talis after all?

'I'm being stupid'

Mizi knew he was probably being dumb. Once the blue-haired boy was out of sight, he sighed. He wanted Slaine to go help Shinto because that was the Slaine he liked so much: the one who cared so dearly about his friends. And it would be good for Slaine after the younger boy had felt so upset over the whole issue to ... be helping his friend. It was the right thing to do. And Mizi also cared about Shinto, so the more help given, hopefully the sooner the boy would begin to recover.

He just worried. And Mizi sadly realized... he was going to have to protect himself. Mizi couldn't let... him in anymore. He'd be too vulnerable to getting hurt if Slaine wasn't careful.

Pulling the pot off the stove, Mizi turned and moved to the cabinet to pull out a bowl. He placed on the counter. For the first time, he recognized Hikari's presence in the kitchen. Pouring a portion of the piping hot substance into the bowl, he looked over at Hikari. "Can I help you get anything?" he asked in quiet kindness.

After what seemed to be forever talking to the man at the booth, he was told of some sort of 'customer confidentiality'. If there just wasn't that glass barrier between himself and the ticket man, he thought wishingly. "Look, the kid's my nephew. He took off thinking he can actually do something on his own. I was sent here to bring him back home," he explained, not having to give the extra strain of sounding like an annoyed family member.

The still skeptical ticketman finally seemed to give in. He was headed.. on a 4:00 trip to New York? What in the hell was that kid thinking?! "Give me a ticket, now!" he demanded, digging his wallet from his pants pocket. He threw a hundred dollar bill through the window, not even bothering to receive his change once the ticket was in his hand. What time was it? A look on his watch told him unpleasantly it was already 3:59. He cursed loudly, noticing some of the buses were already departing.

Bus 12.. Where was Bus 12? The only grateful part of his day was in his noticing that some people were still lolly-gagging on loading up. He proceeded to push through the crowd of people. He had no idea how many of buses were actually headed toward the damned, and rather large city of New York. Worse yet, he didn't know which one Talis would be on. He would just have to take the long -so very long- trip there and try to find him once they arrived. How hard could it be? There would only be a few thousand people running about.

Handing his ticket to the driver, Radevel released a resigned sigh. There really would be nothing more to do than wait. With last-second loaders both in front of and behind him, he eyed the bus for a seat among the scarce pick. He just knew he'd have to sit with a stranger that would irritate him the entire trip.

It wasn't until he was almost directly beside the couple did he notice Talis and.. another man. It took all he had not to blow the man's head off right then and there. Luckily, he had enough practiced self-control. He managed to not even slam his face through the window. But how dare this guy lay a finger on Talis! It wasn't a moment later that he was leaned over, a handful of the other's shirt in his hand, jerking him away from Talis. "What the f*** do you think you're doing, f***ing b*stard?!" he growled in a low whisper.