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The house was quiet, almost too quiet as the sun hung soft in the cloudless sky. There was a time when the house being this silent was an unnerving thing; however now it was welcomed by some. Everyone had gone out; Ashton was back working at the pub with Shepard and Fintan was off doing whatever it is that child did. Most likely he was out collecting leaf samples for his experiments. No matter how he warned the child to stay away from the forest he knew the child still did as he wanted. Though Ziya noticed the bird didn't stay out as late on his own as he did before. Since returning to the family covered in bandages and a story that would frighten anyone, everyone seemed to be more careful.

Ziya had stayed with Krinn's troupe till he felt well enough to make the journey back home. It had taken some time for him to be able to move at all, but he didn't want to over stay his welcome by staying too long. The long walk home he barely remembered, so full of pain and medication he just remembered the sound Ashton made. A sound he never really wished he would ever hear again and it hurt him to know the sight of him had caused it.

So now he sat up alone in his room, perched lazily in the window seat he had built and installed a while back. Built up like it was a pillow fort, it was comfortable and he could look out into the back yard. Still in his sleep pants, he rested his head back against the wall as he tried to relax. The teen had figured once he had gotten back home his nightmares and over all nerves would had subsided but that wasn't the case. Sleep was something that alluded him as nightmares plagued his every sleeping moment and a feeling of deep seeded anxiousness made up his waking ones. With this he had taken up to not sleeping all too much and spent most of his time trying to regain his depth perception now he was down an eye.

Sighing softly, Ziya shifted where he sat, cringing as the stitches in his shoulder protested. His shoulder was healing far faster then his eye for some reason, though the doctor had said the damage to his eyes was more extensive. Ghosting his fingertips over the soft cottony bandages that went over his left eye and around his head the teen frowned. Letting his hand drop back to his side, his fist clenched as he struggled with the reminder. The reminder that the eye coverage wasn't a temporary thing as he would most likely be wearing a patch over it for the rest of his life.

A soft chatter from his knee broke the teen from his dark swirl of emotions, his sight falling onto the little leaf squirrel. The little thing hadn't left his side much since his return and sat on his left shoulder most of the time. Twig had started the habit of chattering if someone was approaching on his blind side, which was much appreciated. Ulla, his owl cat hung around as well, though currently she was sleeping on top of his book shelf. Forcing a small smile, he reached out with a finger to pet the little squirrels head between his antlers. However he missed by a long shot and growled a little in frustration from it. As if sensing his frustration, the little squirrel ducked its head and headbutted his little head against the digit.

Everyone was trying so hard to help him but Ziya was finding it so hard to be positive. Ashton every so often would try and get him to come outside, to go visit Heather or a friend but he refused. Even Fintan in his own awkward way would try and get him out but he just didn't have the heart to keep anyone company. He was quickly become a ghost of who he used to be, getting lost in the constant pain and misery he was feeling.

As twilight fell into complete darkness the street lights slowly sprang to life, driving the shadows back a little from the street. With evening came some liveliness to his home but it was short lived as his mood had driven everyone away. Both Shepard and Ashton had returned from work with Fintan in tow a few hours earlier. They had all been invited to Heathers for dinner and to see more of her new baby but Ziya declined. Surprisingly Fintan tried to convince him; claiming he needed someone who wasn't going to treat him like an idiot there. After forcing a smile and telling the bird it would teach him some patience and that he would easily cope without him, he opted out. Molten gold hues had bore into him on the trio's way out; observing him with a very critical eye before sighing and leaving with their guardians.

Once alone again, Ziya wandered into the kitchen and sat at the kitchen table. Drumming his fingers rhythmic over the smooth surface, he stared simply ahead of himself. He kept most of the lights on as being completely in the dark left him a little unsettled. Even when he did attempt to sleep he slept by candle light; Shepard had said the candle flame would keep the nightmares away. The teen knew it wasn't very well true but the sentiment was nice and he did so anyhow. His gaze traveled over the counter top, eying the bottles of pain medications he had been left with and others to fight off infection for his wounds. He'd been taking them and the pain ones took the edge off on most days but there was always that buzz just behind his destroyed eye that sent his teeth on edge.

With the hour growing later and the hours between when he last slept till now were slowly creeping up on him. He'd have to try and sleep sooner or later but the lightening teen opted to have that come later. Rising from his chair, he ran his hand along the edges of the table as not to add to the collection a bruises on his hips. It seemed all tables and sharp corners were his hip height and he would always jar or knock himself on corners since he wasn't able to properly judge the distance or he simply didn't see it there. It was a recurring problem and it frustrated him to no end but he was having troubles fixing it. Stopping in front of the coffee brewer, he checked it and flicked the switch to cause it to make a pot. It helped him delay his body's need for sleep, as well as it was something that helped him relax. It was one of the habits he had obtained to help himself cope and it was one of the two Ashton and the others didn't mind.

It didn't take long for the coffee to be ready and he reached up to grab his mug and the pot. Now, pouring liquid was a struggle that wasn't easy to hide as some of his other difficulties were. Being able to judge when the cup and the pot were aligned properly as to not spill was something that fell into with missing stairs and curbs. So when he missed horribly and split coffee onto the counter the teen shouldn't have been surprised. Between his sight and the recurring tremor in his hand he was doomed from the start. <********!" He swore, slamming the coffee pot on a dry spot on the counter. Pinching the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and breathing deep, he tried to clam down. Releasing his breath through his nose, he grabbed a cloth and mopped up the mess. Determined, he grabbed the mug in one hand and the coffee pot in the other and held both over the sink and poured until he got some in the mug. Moodily, he set the pot down and took up the coffee mug and stormed towards the front door. Grabbing his warmer coat, he stormed out onto the front steps.

It was cold standing there in just his sleep pants and a white t-shirt but once he set his coffee mug down on the top step, he gingerly slipped into his coat. Rummaging into his coat pockets, he withdrew a lighter and a crushed pack. He withdrew a white stick and stuck it between his lips. As the wind whirled around him, he cupped his hand around the cigarette and lighter before flicking it open and lighting it. Tucking the lighter away be drew in a long drag and sighed softly as he watched the trails of smoke dissipate in the wind. His second bad habit, the one no one approve of and one he could care less of if they did. If the combination of nicotine and caffeine drove around the harsh edges of the darkness, frustration and remainder fears he could care less what people thought.

The tension in him was thick as he sat down on the step carefully, using the rails to guide himself down slowly. Resting his back against the rail, Ziya stared out into the shadows of the street, his single grey eye watching. This was the only time he came outside since he wasn't allowed to do this inside. Normally he kept to the back yard to do this but since there was a lack of lighting back there the front steps it was. Also he could sit strategically with his blind side positioned towards the house and his good side facing to where any danger could possibly approach from.

The teen was thankful that it was cold and late enough that the streets were pretty quiet, no one to see how gaunt and troubled he looked in the low light. How too large the jacket looked on his slight frame, how frazzled and sick he looked. He didn't need too many people seeing what a freak show he had become.