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The days had been odd as of late. Though the previous months had been quiet, and peaceful, Asrafel had still missed his Lilly terribly. He had begun to get used to these random bouts of disappearance from people, and he tried so hard not to worry. It didn't help that no one had come to visit in so long, and everyone who he lived with was always so busy. It was a lonely life, but he tried to keep himself busy with the everyday things.

The past few days, however, really had him confused. He had months of relative silence and peace, but now.. he was siezed with pain and bouts of blackouts. He had found himself on the floor of the Center almost five times in the last week, passed out from seemingly nothing. What was happening to him?!

So there he was, at the doctors office, waiting to be seen. These blackouts were not healthy - they left him with several head bumps! He had to find out what was wrong. In his hand he held a 'Modern Bride' magazine, flipping through it with unexpected interest. The woman beside him, a mother who held her baby close, shifted away. It wasn't that they hadn't seen a boy like him before, in fact they were in their own way unusual; but there was one thing about Asrafel that always got people on their guard. He was naked, after all. Even to the oddest of Gaians, that's .. odd.

The magazine fell from his hands. The woman beside him looked up, and peered curiously at his blank, expressionless face.

"Are you.." She didn't manage to finish her question, so cut off was she by his sudden crumple into his seat. The boy had passed out.

"Nurse! NURSE!" She cried, trying to get up despite the crying baby in her hands. Her movement stopped, however, when she saw the light.

Something even odder than a naked boy at a doctor's office was happening right in front of her eyes.

Asra caught the quiet echo of her scream even as he fell into blackness.

----

Hours later, Asra found himself laying on the table of the doctor's office. Above him was the face of a woman, smiling thinly at him. He surveyed her; not young, but still attractive. The doctor looked to be in her early thirties, by the tinge of grey touching the sides of her head and disappearing up the length of her dark brown hair.

"So, you're awake. My name is Dr. Angela Love, and you are..?

Love? He smiled briefly, though the throbbing pain in his head wiped the smile away. "Asrafel. Love. Same last name." His words came out in choppy half sentences, but they made her laugh nonetheless. "No relation, I believe. Mr. Love, I assume you came here today because what just happened to you has happened before?"

Asrafel could only nod.

She began writing in a chart, eyes focused on it. "And each time it happens does the same item exit your body from your chest?"

Asrafel's eyes narrowed as they looked directly at her. Hoarsely, he whispered out; "What?"

Dr. Love looked down at him suddenly. "The green ball of light. You.. do know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Don't you?

Don't you?

Her voice echoed in his mind. His eyes widened in anger, and he tried to sit up, but she quickly stopped him and settled him back down. "No no, not yet Mr. Love. You're not ready to get up just yet." Once he lay back down, she scribbled onto the chart. "You don't know then. We've got a witness in the waiting room that says a bright green ball of light seeped out of your chest and then vanished, right after you passed out. I'm guessing by your response this clears up any questions as to why you're passing out. Is there something we can do to stop this?"

Asrafel's eyes drifted away from the doctor, and his head turned to the side. A sad expression passed over him.

"No. No there is not."

METAPLOT

((Reserved))

Griselda had a rare visitor at her home that evening. The little boy who she'd taken care of and watched blossom, was now a grown man, ready to take on a wife of his own. He had spent so much time with his new fiancee that he seemed to have all but forgotten his old caretaker, whose many years of life were soon coming to an end. He had suddenly shown up at her door and requested a few days of 'home time'. While the island had never truly been his home for very long, he seemed to find it peaceful during his visits. This visit, however, seemed far from peaceful.

She watched the boy, now a man, from her window. He stood in the distance at his father's grave, his face crunched in confusion.

She saw his mouth move a few times, and frowned in pity. Perhaps the boy was telling his father of his new life, in a vain hope that somewhere, somehow, Raiden could hear him.

His ears twitched every so often when his lips stopped moving, as if listening for a response. She was sure none came.

The waning sun shone in Griselda's eyes, blinding her for a moment. It was enough to make her pull her head back in the window and get back to her daily chores.

When, almost an hour later, Alex returned to the house, he seemed to have found some peace at last. He gave Griselda a fond hug, and left his arm around the old woman's shoulders as he regarded her.

"He's proud of me, Nana." Alex commented with a bright smile.

"An' why shouldn't 'e be?" She barked out with a laugh. "Y've gone and grown t'be a fine lad. If he were still here, 'm sure he would be mighty proud, too."

Alex shook his head with laughter, and got to work at helping Griselda with her chores. She wasn't about to let him laze about just because he was visiting, of course!

"I've got to visit my mother tomorrow. I hate to make this trip so short.." He put the mop he held in his hand aside and took her old, wrinkled hand in his own. "You are coming to the wedding, aren't you Nana?" He inquired desperately. She simply patted his hand and gave him a weary smile.

"I'll do m'best."

"MOM! PLEASE!" He ducked as a spoon came flying at his head. "Stop throwing things!" He bent to one side when a wooden ladle soared by him. "This isn't going to solv-JESUS!" A knife sang as it skyrocketed towards him, splitting some of his hairs as it just barely missed his head. When he popped back up, his eyes were wide with shock.

"MOM!"

"Don't you mom me, you little-" She shook another knife in his direction, and he ducked back under the couch in reflex. "STOP! Just STOP. Please! Can't we talk about this?"

"TALK?!" She cried out, slamming the knife deep into the wood of a table. "You want to TALK?"

"Y.. es?"

"Okay, let's talk." She folded her hands in front of her and glared daggers at him. He felt them sharper than any actual knives would have been.

Suddenly, he didn't really want to talk anymore.

"Let's talk about how you are having conversations with a dead man. Hm? Wanna chat about that one?"

"Mom, just listen-"

"Let's gossip about how you're dredging up some of the most painful memories of my life, and then saying 'boy, I wish you'd smile!'"

He winced at the stinging sarcasm in her voice. "You don't understand-"

"You're damn right I don't understand." She interrupted. "But I'd better." She flopped down in the chair in front of her and re-crossed her arms, looking about as friendly as a hungry shark.

"Talk fast."