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The scorpion lad sat curled in the darkness, eyelids heavy, listening quietly to the sound of his own breathing. The smell of blood was heavy, it was everyone. A damp, stickiness was everywhere, all over his skin and clothes, the wall, and the couch that his father had loved so much. His mouth felt dry. So dry. He was thirsty, he was tired. In his current dazed state, he couldn't get much done on his own. He knew it... So he went to the first person he thought of, the first name his heart tossed to him. He lifted the phone, staring at it incomprehensively for a moment or so before dialing in a number. There was some struggle because of his claws, but after a few attempts he succeeded.

He lifted the phone to his ear and his eyes to the ceiling. Inky blackness. Inky blackness everywhere, and the steady sound of the rain slinking in through the destroyed doorway and slushing its way into the house. He listened to the ringing. "P-please, a-a-answer th-the phone... P-please..." He curled himself further into the fetal position, heart throbbing almost painfully. "Please..." Ring ring ring. Ring ring ring...

There was silence for a moment, although everyone knows it wasn't the tone that got him- Nero couldn't tell when women were trying to be appealing or any of that with their voice. Call it naivety, but whatever it was, he had it. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, and then slowly drawled out in an exhausted and raspy voice, "I-is... I-is S-simon there...?" He drew his knees up to his chest a bit further, a small shudder racking through his small frame. It felt almost as if it were the darkness itself seeping through his clothes rather than another's blood. "P-please..?" He added in softly, all four eyes clamping to a tight close. He felt as if his heart were caving in.

The boy let out the faintest puff of air when she told him the news, however the former numbness soon overtook his temporary disapointment. All there was now was that tinge of coldness that seemed to come at him from everywhere, even though the air was actually still the wonderful 72 degrees his father had it set to. Cold, so cold. His voice, however, had captured all the emotion as it fled him, and aside from his usually stuttering broke quite a bit in his next few sentences and held a rather defeated tone. "C-can... C-can you c-c-come g-g-g-get me? A-at... A-at my h-house..?" He had to get away from this place, in any way possible... And he didn't want to go anywhere alone.. It was strange, but after all this he suddenly had a whole new respect to his father's rules- at that thought, he let out a deep cough that initiated a burning in his chest and stomach. Ow.

The boy sat still for a moment, and then quietly hung up the phone. He drew in a deep breath, finally opening his eyes to a blurry world. He blinked once, twice, and everything defined itself once again, although he couldn't see much in the darkness. And he couldn't turn on the light here, the lightbulb had been broken and the remains were scattered about the floor. Occasionally they would pick up light, and glimmer like a thousand little stars. He turned his face towards the motionless form beside him, and slowly let his legs down. He hunched over and pressed their foreheads together in an almost desperate manner, and found himself unable to keep his eyes open once again. "I-it's go-gonna be o-okay, i-it's gonna b-be o-o-okay.. Sh-she'll be h-here s-s-soon, i-it's g-g-onna b-be..."

Nero couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He stroked over the blood-matted hair of the older male and just stayed there for awhile, violent shudders wracking through him ever few seconds. "I-it's..."

And what seemed years later to the boy, he heard the car pulling up and noticed it wasn't raining any more. "S-see.. It's okay.." He whispered to the body, and then sat himself back up, trying to muster up enough energy to haul himself to a stand and shuffle to the door.

As their visitor drove in, perhaps she would notice a few vans off to the side, parked under some trees in the actual lawn. Black. The image of those black vans would remain in the young scorpion's mind forever after this horrendous night.

When Bree came to pound on the door, she would find a large hole where a spray of bullets had gone through right above the knob, creating a small sort of window. They had used to whole to wrench open the door from the inside. It hung slightly crooked on its hinges, and if she went through with knocking it would groan loudly before swinging wildly inwards, unable to remain closed after its beating.

Inside was the true carnage, however. Bulletholes, blood, knives, and bodies, and broken furniture as well as glass. Everywhere. There was barely anything left in tact, and there were perhaps four bodies in the entryway alone. Axel was a fighter, he was quick and he was strong and he had resources, but he was most obviously outnumbered. If she chose to venture outside, the mess would continue, revealing multiple more bodies until there was simply one beside the couch, face down in a gigantic pool of blood, his body gashed open all over. There was another small splat of blood beside him that seemed to have come from another, and it smeared across the floor as if the body it belonged to had been dragged. And the trail led right to the partially-open door of a closet.

"B-Bree?" Came the soft response to the woman's questioning, and a figure pushed himself to a stand in the closet, the soft sound of the struggle emitted through the walls. He wasn't injured really, simply worn out. Entirely. The ordeal had drained all of his energy. "B-Bree..?" He repeated, a little bit louder, and the scorpion lad poked himself out from the closet. He crunched across the broken glass, barefooted but not seeming to take any notice. He was certainly a mess, shirt and pants stained in blood that was not his own, and his hair stuck about in all directions. He had blood covering his claws, and a smear across his cheek. His shirt was torn a bit at the top, as if by a knife slash, and the skin was split however no blood came from it nor did it seem painful. Whoever tried to harm him had been unable to get the knife all the way through his armor-like skin to result in an actual wound.

He stopped after a moment, staring at her with tired eyes, head cocked to one side. The disapointment was back. Now she was here, but there was still that body lying motionless in the closet. His false hopes of the closest thing he had ever had to a mother figure being there fixing everything failed him. He looked slowly back to the closet, remaining silent.

"I-I'm not h-hurt..." The boy said quietly, and perhaps there was even a hint of guilt hidden away in his tone. He let the woman run her hand through his hair, and remembered what had happened only moments before the door erupted. When Axel was still moving. That blistering pain starting back up in his chest, and as Bree said his name it only intensified. His name had been mentioned. He tried to swallow the burning lump in his throat, and then turned away from her and shuffled back in the closet. He fell to his knees now beside the body, staring down at it silently for a moment before a tremor ran through him. This time, it didn't stop. "H-he's no-not breathing. H-he h-hasn't been breat-breathing..." His eyes were facing her once more, "F-for a l-long time.." He stopped, went silent. The shaking grew worse. "H-he's dead."

Axel's body was actually rather well kept, his clothing just slightly tattered. His body was without mark, with the exception of three gaping bulletholes in the center of his chest, seeping out blood still. Dried blood had caked on the surrounding material, and Nero took a moment to think on how the man so hated anything ever dirtying his clothes. And if he could cry, he would have started right then.

And yet, if one were to look closer, they would find something Nero was unable to check. It was as if Axel's body had gone into a comatose state, without breathing or any other functions, and yet there was still the faintest pulse. Thus, the still-seeping blood. There was still a bit of life left behind.

Nero shifted out of the way and watched silently, momentarily glancing down at his claws. He couldn't do that... Search for a pulse. He had barely any feeling in his claws, and pressing the sharp inside to his father's throat... He looked down, feeling rather worthless. However at her words, a little stir of emotion started back up inside the teenager. Hope. His eyes widdened incredulously, "H-he's..." He was alive. His father was alive. Once again, had he been able to cry, he would have done it all over again right here.

His claws were on the phone almost instantly, and his frantic mind convinced him to call both sources, and quickly. He started with D-Corp. He dialed in the memorized number, and then waited. Upon them answering, he would hurriedly slurr out what he was told. Upon finishing that call, he called 9-1-1 without missing a beat. He repeated what he had just done, except this time he had to tell them where he lived and more details on the situation. Help was on the way. He slumped back against the wall and watched, exhausted all over again by the rush of adrenaline. "Th-they're c-coming-"

After a moment, the body on the floor jerked to life in a fit of wheezing and coughing, eyes dull and slightly glazed over as he came to semi-consciousness almost instantly after he began breathing, staring up in a sort of delirium at the woman above him. It was always strange, almost unhuman, the way he always snapped back from unconsciousness like that- but then again, only his brother would know about that, really. And then, suddenly, he was trying to prop himself up on his elbows but came to find a sharp sting of pain. He blinked and stared down at the bloody holes Bree was covering, and then wheezed out, "s**t." And then the coughing was back and he slumped back onto the floor. Ow. And he slid back into a state of almost unconsciousness, but he was there. Just barely, but he was there. He continued to breathe slow, wheezed breaths.

His child was instantly stuck at his side, staring down at him unnoticed with wide eyes.

"Right, right." Axel slurred out, eyes lazily wandering towards her face. "Awake, sure thing beautiful. No problem." He licked over his teeth inside his mouth, tasted blood. This wasn't good. And he was tired, he was gonna have to struggle to keep himself up, and yet he attempted to lighten up the air a bit. "Looks like he got me, huh?" He shifted slightly, wincing a bit at the feel of her hand digging into him, but he knew it was necessary. He sat in a pensive silence for a moment, and then lifted his hand to brush hers aside gently, pushing down on his own wounds to keep the air from leaking back in when he breathed. "Gonna need to make a patch. Go do that. Use tape, in kitchen... On counter. Duct tape. Go, I'll hold it."

And then he turned his attention to the scorpion, smiling gently, "Hey kid." He took his free hand and touched the green face of the boy who was still silent, even with Bree prompting him to speak. "You hurt?" Nero shook his head. "That's good, real good. All of 'em... Are gone?" A nod this time. "Good. Good.. I bet they got blood all over my couch, huh?" He let out an extremely sickly sounding chuckle, and stroked lightly over the boy's hair as the scorpion burrowed his head into his shoulder. Atleast he was safe... And then sudden alarm came, although he didn't let it show, "Hey, kiddo.. Could you call your uncle for me? Tell him.. What happened? His number is in my room."

Nero looked up curiously, and then nodded silently, picking up the phone and hurrying off to the bedroom.

Axel let out a low groan. This was bad.