II

2209 A.D

A cool summer night breeze swept over a lone figure that laid upon the roof of a run down two story house. For a moment the only sounds were that of the leaves as they danced through the air, dodging the countless trees that surrounded the entire area.

Sitting up, Ayden pulled the hood of his thin red sweatshirt, up over his head as the wind began to pick up. He sat there, watching the waltz of multicolored leaves make their way past his head. The marking of another summer come and gone.

He aimed his eyes toward the star covered sky. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was content. A perfect night away from everything. Just him and the near perfect calm that surrounded him.

As he scanned the skies, his mind kept returning to that word.

Silence…

As much as he wished it weren't true, he knew the peace was nothing but a fleeting dream, that had found its way into the nightmare disguised as his life.

Below him, like an alarm clock announcing a wake up call, came the sounds of screaming. His mother and stepfather, fighting over God knew what, once again. What he knew for sure was that Leonard was most likely drunk, as was his natural state of being.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Ayden pulled the hood tighter around his head, hoping to block out any trace of the warfare below. Its not like he wasn't used to it. In the seven years since his mother had remarried, six of those were filled with the rage of his stepfather.

Leonard Cross had been a soldier in the Paradise War, much like Ayden's father. But unlike his dad, Leonard never quite made it, being dishonorably discharged shortly after completely boot camp.

Ayden never really knew why it had happened, since the one time he tried to bring up the subject, it only resulted in him walking away with several bruised ribs and a split lip.

The screaming continued below him like white noise. At this point Ayden figured he'd better slip back into the house. He knew it was only a matter of time before Leonard came bursting into his room, to remind him of what of worthless piece of shit he was, like his father.

There didn't seem to be anything that didn't piss Leonard Cross off, but if there was one subject that took the crown, it was the mention of August Alexander. Ayden didn't know if there was truly a personal hatred towards his father that Leonard held, considering that the two had never actually been in the same room, as far as he knew. What it truly came down to was pride.

Leonard was the man of the house, a fact of which he reminded Ayden of frequently. Everything under the roof of the house they lived in was his to do with as he pleased. Although the house belonged to his mother, a parting gift from his father's death.

Even through Ayden was only five when his father had been killed in the Paradise War, he could still remember vividly when this house was their home.

Remembered his father chasing him through the back yard, which often times resulted in Ayden's tiny legs being over taken by his tiny frame, ending with him going head first into one of the many brightly colored leaf piles scattered about.

Everything was brighter then, most of all his mother. Her blue eyes always sparkling as she would watch the two of them together. If love ever had a look, it was painted on the face of Gwen Alexander.

Gwen Cross backed slowly away from the man she called her husband, all the while keeping her eyes on him. She was no stranger to his drunken fits, usually a mixture of screamed insults and much stumbling. Tonight though, was different. Vindictive was the only word she could begin to put to the look in his eyes.

Gwen ducked quickly to avoid the over stuffed duffel bag chucked by the giant of man. She winced at the sound of glass shattering as the bag missed her, sailed through the doorway a few feet behind her, and collided with what she assumed to be the dishes that had been stacked neatly on the counter.

"I told you didn't I? Told you to get rid of that shit." Leonard jeered, moving towards her much quicker than should have been possible for a man of his stature.

"This is my goddamn house, and you have to audacity to try and hide his things in my home?"

"I…I…I was only saving it for Ayden," she stammered, backing further away. Soon she found herself within the dead end of the kitchen.

"This is my fucking house," he repeated, his trunk of an arm gesturing around him. "Apparently I need to remind you that I own you, that worthless kid of yours, and everything else here. And if need be I will kill both of you and sleep like a baby afterward to get my fucking point across." Leonard roared, the fat of his face shaking violently.

His steps shook the hardwood below him,as they moved his heavy frame forward. Gwen watched as his face turned redder with each new step and shallow breath he took. She inched herself back, keeping just out of his reach.

Her back connected with the dinning table pressed against the far side of the room. She looked back quickly, taking in the reality that she had no where else to go. No more distance to keep between them.

"Please Leo, I love you. We can talk through this. Go sleep it all off…we'll both feel better in the morning," she pleaded, forcing a half smile.

Behind her, her hands searched frantically for anything to defend herself, should her words fail.

Only a few feet away, the man towered over her. She had no choice but to try and fight back. She felt as her hand grasp around the only solid object it could find. What came next was by instinct alone. She didn't want to hurt him, never did. She believed with all her heart that behind this monster in front of her, was the man that she believed she loved. But he left her no choice for her actions.

She watched as he took one more step towards her, and she reacted with a step of her own. From behind her back come her hand and the glass salt shaker within it. As the two made contact with the side of Leonard's head, there was a sickening noise of glass breaking against his skull.

She felt as the air left her in with a gasp, as he watched his head jerk to the side from the impact. Before she could draw her next breath, everything went white then black as his fist met with the side of her head.

Ayden laid in his bed, the book that he had been reading covering his face. The sounds of glass shattering stirred him from his resting state. He sat up and made his way to his bedroom door. Opening it slowly, he put his ear to the crack. Below he could hear his mother's voice, pleading for the situation to end. Ayden shook his head and began to turn back around to return to his bed. Once again, the cycle would repeat. She would forgive the bastard, pretend like it would never happen again. Until the next time. Rinse and repeat.

The loud thud that came next, stopped Ayden in his tracks. It was a new sound. Something he hadn't heard before during any of their many fights. A sound that made his skin crawl. He threw his door open and stepped into the hallway. Stepping as lightly as he could, he made his way to the top of the stairs. Beginning his decent, a new sound hit him. The repeating of something solid hitting flesh.

Making his way to the bottom step, he peered over the railing, into the kitchen around the corner.

There across the room, he could see the back of his stepfather, his fists rising and falling heavy into something below him. Ayden gasped when he caught sight of his mother's feet protruding from under Leonard.

He stood there, unmoving. The sound echoing over and over again in his mind. With each blow, he watched his mother's feet jump slightly from the force. Her cries became nothing but gasps for air. Then silence. And yet, the man continued his assault.

She was going to die, if Ayden didn't do something now. Placing his hands on the rail, he lifted himself up and over. He hit the ground and pushed himself forward. Making his way through the doorway into the kitchen, he struggled to keep his balance as his socks struggled to keep their grip against the hardwood floors. Sliding forward, he hopped over the broken pieces of dishware spread out in front of the sink.

Leonard seemed unaware that Ayden had entered the room, still engaged in his rage induced assault.

Now just a couple feet from other two, Ayden leap into the air, coming down onto the back of his stepfather.

"Get the fuck off her," Ayden screamed as he grabbed for the man's arms, attempting to pull them back from making their next blow. From over Leonard's shoulder, Ayden could see clearing the damage done below, to his mother. Both her eyes were swollen shut, her face increased to an unnatural size.

Then there was the blood. The small pools settled around her head, dripping from her nose and mouth. The sight almost made him lose his hold.

Ayden watched as his mother began to move further away from him, as Leonard began to stand up suddenly. He watched as Leonard turned his head to look up at him. The look within the man's eyes was nothing Ayden could have prepared himself for. Ayden was used to the anger that came from those eyes, but this was murderous intent. This was focused rage.

Ayden felt the feel of Leonard's hand grab his shirt, jerking it upward. The world blurred as he was lifted up and over the other man's head. A pain shot through his back as he slammed into the ground, his air being forced from his entire body. Leonard stood over him for a moment, before reaching down and gripping Ayden by the throat. Ayden swung his arms madly at Leonard's outstretched arm, attempting to break it's hold on him. Deep down he knew he wasn't strong enough to overpower the monster that had him, yet he continued to struggled.

The burning in his throat intensified as the world around him began to disappear. His eyes became heavier with each passing second. Soon he let both his arms and eyelids drop against his will. Still barely aware of what was happening, he felt his own limp body sway slightly. There was another sudden jerk, followed by the feel of Leonard's hand leaving his throat, and the rush of air as it sailed around his body.

Ayden was unsure how much time had passed when he opened his eyes again. Sitting up slowly, he brought his hand to the back of his aching head. There was warm wetness that covered his fingers. He brought them around to see the red of his own blood dripping from his hand. Wiping it on the side of his jeans, he shook his head in hopes of making his eyes focus. It took him a moment to clear his head enough to figure out what had happened.

Leonard must have figured that Ayden had lost consciousness, and had tossed him across the room in to the counter. Hitting headfirst must have finished what Leonard had thought he had accomplished. Ayden turned his attention back toward his mother and stepfather.

Leonard just stood there, looking down at the damage he had done. The sudden sound of Gwen coughing surprised both Ayden and her attacker. As his stepfather began to bend down for his mother, Ayden grabbed for the large piece of broken porcelain plate next to him, cutting his hand in the process.

Gritting his teeth slightly, he stood and rushed at Leonard once again.

As Ayden jumped onto the larger man's back once again, he watched as the scenario began to play out as it had before. Only this time, he was ready. Watching as Leonard brought his right arm up to grab at him, Ayden shifted his entire body to the left side of larger man's. As he held on with with his left hand, he brought the make shift blade in his right down into Leonard's left shoulder. He watched as the broken piece disappeared into the thick flesh, until coming to a stop at what Ayden knew must be bone.Bringing his left hand up to grab his other arm, Ayden allowed his entire body weight to fall heavy toward the ground. A ripping sound filled his ears as both cloth and flesh tore, followed by Leonard's screams of pain.

His feet now on the ground, Ayden quickly stepped back, blade at the ready, as Leonard spun around quickly to face him. Blood poured from the gash in the now limp arm dangling to his side, held there by only a small amount of untouched muscle.

Looking from Ayden to his mangled shoulder, Leonard stood there in disbelief, uncontrollable screams still leaving his mouth.

"You little shit…," he struggled to say, as he stepped towards Ayden. "You have no idea how much I'm going to enjoy killing you slowly." His pace quickened, as he charged toward Ayden.

Ayden watched as the man fought to keep his footing, the dead weight of the almost severed arm throwing off his balance. Ayden adjusted the weapon in his hand once again, his eyes focused on everystep his attacker took. As Leonard's good hand made a grab for him, Ayden brought his left hand up to deflect the arm upward. Taking advantage of this this newly made opening, Ayden ducked in behind Leonard, thrusting the blade into right side of Leonard's back. The give of flesh set off another fit of screams by Leonard, followed by the wild flailing of his entire body.

Ayden managed to dodge the oncoming attacks, as he withdrew the knife and slid his body back a few feet. Miscalculating the reach of the much larger man, Ayden's head was suddenly slammed to the side, as his stepfather's fist met with his temple. A flash of white took his vision for a split second, as he felt himself begin to fall toward the ground once again.

He regained his composure, as he caught himself with his free hand, just in time to see Leonard coming down with all his weight. Barely rolling out of the way, Ayden stumbled to his feet, as Leonard hit the ground on his knees, unable to make his own frame react as quickly.

Knowing he had to finish the conflict quickly, Ayden jumped onto the monster's back once again. As Leonard began to make his way to his feet, shaking from side to side in hopes of throwing the boy off, Ayden shot his lets around the front of Leonard, wrapping around his overgrown stomach, locking his ankles together tightly. Ayden brought the porcelain back, then forward into Leonard's spine, with both hands.

Ayden let of a scream, as he forced the weapon with all his strength. Finally the blade found it's resting place in the opening between two vertebrae, just below the man's neck.

Ayden felt as the shaking under him intensified, as Leonard made one final attempt to break free from his stepson's hold. The two of them went down just in front of the still unmoving body of Gwen Cross.

As Leonard hit his knees, Ayden twisted both his hands violently. Below the surface, he felt as the blade made its way through the cord.

Feeling the tremors subside, as he watched Leonard's entire body go limp, Ayden unlocked his legs and slid gently to the floor once more. He watched as the now crippled remains of his stepfather, struggled to comprehend what was happening. Soon the sounds of agony filled the room. Ayden brought his hands to his ears, a sad attempt to drown out the noise. From behind them, he could still hear the screams, and hollow threats of Leonard Cross, on his life.

Letting his hands drop to the side, Ayden stood there watching the broken man. Watched as what was once rage, was replaced by terror. The look that comes when someone knows they are looking death in the face. For a moment, Ayden felt his heart grow heavy at the sight of what he had done. Felt an ache in his chest for the man in front of him.

He wasn't sure if what he did next, was born of anger or pity. Stepping forward, he placed his left hand on Leonard's forehead, pulling his head back slightly. Bringing his other hand across the front of the man, he pushed the knife into the side of Leonard's neck.

Bringing his arm back across quickly, Ayden turned to look away from his own actions, wincing at the feel of blood that sprayed from the open wound. Dropping the porcelain to the floor, Ayden fell backward. Catching himself with his hands, he scooted away as Leonard's body slumped back.

Burrowing his head into his hands and knees, Ayden tried to calm his quickened breathing. On either side of his head, his hands shook uncontrollably. From the other side of the room, he could hear the gasps for air, as Leonard clung to life.

As the adrenaline left his body, and reality set in, Ayden began to break. A single tear, soon became silent streams that flowed from his eyes.

"What did you do?" his mother's voice broke the silence.

Ayden looked up to see her kneeling over the body of her husband. Her swollen eyes poured tears down her battered face. She turned her attention toward her son. Through all the broken features, Ayden could see the disgust painted on her face. The hatred. The sadness.

"What the fuck did you do?" Gwen Cross repeated, much louder this time.

Ayden stood up slowly and began to make his way towards her, hands still shaking as he reached out to comfort her. As his hand was about to come to rest on her shoulder, she turned on him, swatting his hand away from her.

He quickly withdrew, bringing his hand towards his chest. He stood there silent, looking down at his mother.

"Why, Ayden? Answer me goddamn it." Gwen sobbed.

"He left me no other choice," Ayden replied, reaching out again.

"Don't you touch me," Gwen hissed, once again smacking his hand away.

"Please mom, you have to understand…"

"I understand perfectly. You never accepted him, never accepted what we had. All our problems were because of you," she sneered.

Ayden just stood there in disbelief. His throat ached as he attempted to speak, only for the words to escape him. His eyes wondered from his mother to the barely living man next to her, and back again.

"He was going to kill you," the words finally came out.

"No he wouldn't. He loves me. You wanted him dead," she denied as she stood up quickly and shoved Ayden back.

Regaining his footing, Ayden braced himself in case she should decide to come at him further.

"Admit it, you've wanted him gone for God knows how long," her words shot at him.

"No…"

"You're a goddamn liar, Ayden," she pushed him again.

"I didn't…"

"Liar!" she screamed, with another shove.

"I did to protect you!" Ayden screamed in return. "I didn't have any another fucking choice. It was you or him. So I chose…"

"Bullshit…" Gwen cried.

"Please mom."

"Don't call me that. You're no son of mine," she whispered, her words like venom as she turned away from Ayden. Ayden watched as she removed the shirt she was wearing and placed it on the wound on Leonard's neck to stop the bleeding.

"Call for medical assistance," Gwen Cross said to no one in particular.

"Contacting medical assistance," the female voice of the built in A.I. of their house answered. "What is the nature of your emergency?"

"My husband has taken multiple stab wounds, and is bleeding out quickly. I've applied pressure to stop it the best I can. Please I need someone quickly, before I lose him. The address is…"

Ayden stood there in a daze, watching as his mother, bruised, swollen, and bloody, attempted to save the monster who made her that way in the first place. He watched as tears escaped from her swollen green eyes. Watched as her once beautiful thick brown hair, she had given him as well, swayed from side to side matted with blood.

He stared at the scene of it all, like someone would a movie. In that moment disconnected. Like it was all happening to someone else. But it wasn't. It was his reality, that he had created.

"I didn't mean…," he whispered to himself.

"Medical air support is en route, Mrs. Cross." The sound of the A.I. snapped Ayden back to reality.

"U.C.T.I. law enforcement will be dispatched within the hour, as they are currently all on different incidents."

He turned around quickly at the last announcement. He knew that if he was too still in the house when the U.C.T.I. arrived, his mother would tell them that Ayden had purposely attempted to take Leonard's life. And with him walking away with only slight bruises, they might believe him. Even with Gwen Cross in the state she was, what Ayden had done was beyond simple defense, he knew they would say. And how could they not, he had butchered the other man, though he only wanted to stop him. If by some miracle they were able to save Leonard's life, Ayden knew he would never use his limbs again. Let alone talk.

His mind went into overdrive as he started his way across the kitchen. He knew we would need to gather as much as he could before escaping into exile. Starting with his father's duffel bag that still laid resting on the kitchen counter. Grabbing it quickly, he zipped it open. Luckily some of his dad's old clothes were still in there, along with some other random item. Duct tape, some old sweatbands he would wear during his training sessions, and some old pictures from his time in the U.C.T.I.

Ayden pushed the contents to one side, and threw open the cabinet just above where the duffel had come to rest. He began to grab whatever canned food he could, and threw it into the bag. He opened a second cabinet, and grabbed the roll of tinfoil inside, which he would use to cook with if need be. A skill

August Alexander had left with his son, among others, before his untimely death.

Throwing the roll into the bag, Ayden zipped it shut and made his way toward the stairs to his room.

Behind him, he could hear the sound of his mother screaming at him. He was sure it had something to do with him taking what wasn't his. But he didn't care.

As much as he loved her, she made her choice. Just as much as he had to try and protect her. As sickened as he felt with the damage he had caused, he was even more so with her reaction. Though he knew deep down, that she was far from being the caring mother he remembered when his dad was around. Knew that August's death had broken her, long before Leonard Cross ever did. Long before Ayden himself had.

He glanced back once more, before shaking his head and forcing his hand onto the railing leading up the stairs before him. A sudden stinging shot through his hand, reminding him of the cut placed there by the broken plate. A pain his mind had pushed aside until that moment. Removing his hand from the rail, he glimpsed the smear of blood left behind. He turned his hand over to look at the extent of damage done. Across the right palm, lay a gash that spread diagonally across. With a quick inspection, Ayden could see that the pain was much worse than the actual wound. Nothing a makeshift bandage wouldn't take care of.

Dropping his hand to his side, he continued his way upstairs. Kicking his bedroom door open, he threw the duffel onto his bed. In a hurry, he ran to the closet across the room, and began to grab whatever clothes he could, throwing them behind him onto the bed, though many of them missed their mark.

Returning to the bed, he threw open the bag. His eyes scanned quickly over the clothes he thrown, searching for what he would use to bandage his hand. Finally he glimpsed one of his old socks, one with a hole in the heel. Grabbing it, he ripped it apart, into a more manageable cloth, and placed it on the wound. Throwing open the bag again, he grabbed for the duct tape.

Gripping it in his teeth, he pulled the roll free, and began wrapping it around sock. Once he felt it was enough, he freed the one end from the rest of the roll with his teeth. Pushing the end of the tape into its place around his hand, he threw the rest of the roll back into the duffel.

Ayden gathered the remains of his clothes, and threw them into the bag quickly. Zipping it shut, he threw the bag of his shoulder and made his way back toward the door. Stopping in the doorway, he turned to look at the room that held the remains of the childhood, he knew he was leaving behind.

With a shake of his head, he turned and began his descent, taking the stairs two at a time. He made is way across the rooms of the only home he had ever known. The home his father had made of them, and Ayden now felt he had destroyed. With his free arm, he wiped away the tears that came with the thought.

Finally he made it to the front door. As he opened it, a gust of the same breeze he had been enjoying just earlier in the night, found its way through the doorway, and across his face. He stared into the darkness before him, and then back to the place that held all the memories he was leaving behind.

Wiping his eyes once more, he threw the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, and stepped out into the darkness.

In the distance, he could hear the sound of the air support his mother had called for. He looked up to see the spotlight of a helicopter coming into view, soon to be upon the house, and Ayden himself. Wanting to avoid any detection, he burst into a run, making his way into the cover of trees that surrounded the property.