(Mark's P.O.V.)

When you're a criminal, the last thing you want to do is attract attention. However, sometimes it can't be helped. So, you know, one minute you'll be walking along the beach front. The next you're hiding behind a crate on the pier getting shot at and returning said shots. So a normal day.

Today is not a normal day however. I'm making my runs, wearing my standard outfit. Black button up shirt, sleeves rolled up. White suspenders, normally covered up by my dirty red and black flannel though I'm not wearing it today. Dirty jeans, black shoes. Pretty basic, if I do say so myself. Oh yeah, and the weapons I have stashed on me.

I have a gun in the waistband of my pants. A pocket knife in, well, my pocket. A knife in my hand. And I'm able to use almost anything else I see as a weapon. It comes in handy, especially if I lost my previous weapon in a fight and needed something to help kill all those pesky officers. I mean, what are they just busting into my life like that? I guess it's their job but whatever...

Right now it's a pretty average day of sneaking in back alleys and trying to get to my house without being noticed. I had to go and buy some more weapons (or steal), and so I'm trying to get to my house without the cops noticing. I'm doing pretty good, with only two blocks to go. When suddenly...

A crate starts moving. I freeze, staring at the wooden box in the corner. It moves again and I swear I hear whimpering coming from it. "What the fuck..?" I whisper, walking over to it. I try opening it, only to be unsuccessful, so I look for something to use to get it open. I find a bent piece of metal and quickly pick it up.

Using all my strength, I manage to break the seal and get the crate open. I slowly open it, a loud creak emitting from it. I wince from the noise, happy when it stops after it's open. And then I look inside the crate. I gasp, staring at what I find inside. Or more accurately, who.

It's a man, who looks to be about my age. He wears dirty and tattered clothing, way to big for him. His form is thin, and he looks fragile as chinaware. His blue eyes are filled with hope, sadness, and the ocean. His complexion is pale. His hair is messy, the brown cut short but the green on top of his head long and untamed.

I back up a bit and he slowly crawls closer to the exit of the crate. He stops once he's sitting on the lid, staring at me with wide and curious eyes.

"Can you talk?" I ask. I receive no reply. "My name's Mark. What's your name?" He whimpers a bit, looking down. And that's when I realize he has a dog tag on. I kneel down, frowning. I take the tag, looking at the words. "Seán... 109-312-5643... O Positive..." That's all that's written on it. Well, on the front. On the back is his birthday. "2/7/90". He's twenty-seven now, a year younger than me.

I drop the dog tag, letting it hang from his neck once again. He still stares up at me, with those gorgeous blue eyes. I stand up again, holding out my hand to help him up. His eyes travel down my body till he starts staring at my hand. He doesn't take it, just sits there, staring.

"Well come on. I'm taking you home." I say, getting slightly irritated. He hesitantly lifts his hand, until finally his hand rests in my palm. I pull him up roughly, maybe to roughly, seeing as he immediately stumbles forward and falls onto me. I grab him, keeping him upright as his hands go to my chest trying to balance himself. Eventually he does.

I stare at him for a minute, watching as he slowly steps back, staring at the ground. His shirt is just a little to loose, his pants just a little to baggy, his shoes just a little to big. It's obvious he's underfed, and broken. I don't know who this man is. I don't care. I just know I can't bear to see pain in those beautiful blue eyes.

"Let's go home Seán."

***

I'm broken from my thoughts by a soft whimpering, almost begging sound. I look up from my food to see Seán staring at me, a pleading look in his eyes. He seems hungry. But I put food in front of him, gave him the same thing I'm eating.

"Go on. I gave you food for a reason." I continue eating, expecting Seán to eat as well. But he doesn't. He sits there, staring at first his plate and then me, then his plate and then me. I sigh, annoyed. I grab his fork, put some spaghetti on it, and hand it to him. "Eat."

He's hesitant. He doesn't move for a second. But then he grabs the fork, making sure not to touch my hand, and eats the bite of spaghetti. He chews slowly, as if unsure. Then digs in, eating quicker than I thought humanly possible. I chuckle, eating my own food but at a much slower pace.

Before I know it he's done, and still hungry. So I give him what's left of my plate. He nods at me, a sign of thanks I guess, and then continues eating. All the while, I just stare. Who the hell is he? Why can't he talk? Where did he come from? All these questions might never be answered and that annoys me, but for now it doesn't really matter.

***

"Seán, put on the damn clothes!" I say, voice a bit loud. He just shakes his head, pushing the clothes I offered even further away. I groan, staring at his outfit. "Those rags are not going to hold up much longer. Plus they are way to big for you! Put on the clothes!" This time I throw them at him, and he catches them. We stare at each other.

And then he turns and walks into the bathroom. I sigh, falling onto the couch and closing my eyes. That was much more of a struggle then it needed to be. Why doesn't he accept any signs of gratitude? Why does he not let me be nice to him? I have to force him to do everything! It's like he's not used to being treated nicely, or like a human being at all for that matter.

Is it... Is it possible he wasn't before?

***

Seán looks better now in one of my t-shirts (though it's still to big) and jeans (which fit just right). He doesn't wear shoes right now, only socks, but I gave him an old pair of shoes that looked to fit him right. Right now we're just sitting, watching TV. It's been a couple days since he first came, but he still hasn't spoken a word.

I've tried to get him to talk, but he just... Doesn't. It's like he actually can't. Something in his brain is telling him not to talk and it's... Honestly it's annoying. I look over at him, only to see that he's fallen asleep. I smile softly, watching as he cuddles up to the arm of the couch, content. His mouth is open a bit, soft snores escaping.

Around his neck is that same dog tag from before. He's never taken it off. Why? But more importantly, what is it for? I bite my lip. I shouldn't. I really shouldn't... But I do. I carefully slip the dog tag over his head, holding it in my hands. Then I grab a hoodie, put it on, and walk out the door.

***

"Soda." I say, sitting at the bar. The bartender nods and hands me the drink. Felix and I know each other pretty well, I often come to him for advise.

"Anything for my favorite customer." He says, and stops. He waves to his boss, signaling he's on break, and then leans over the counter, looking at me. "What do you need?"

I throw the dog tag on the counter, face up. "What's this?"

He picks it up, turning it over in his hands and feeling the engraved letters and numbers. He inspects it carefully, finding anything that could possibly be of use. Eventually, he just shrugs, putting it back down. I snatch it back up, staring at it myself.

"I can tell you what it isn't." I look up expectantly. "Definitely isn't military."

"No?"

He shakes his head. "Hell no. They use a different metal, and they always have last name, middle initial, and never have birthdays." He says, grabbing a cup and drying it off. "Speaking of, that isn't a phone number."

I tilt my head to the side. "What do you mean it isn't a phone number? Looks like one to me." I say, staring at the numbers again. But Felix just chuckles.

"No. 109 isn't an area code, it's a scammer's address. Hard to get one of those numbers. No, if I were to guess, I'd say it was an identification number of some sorts." I hum in response, still staring at the tag. "Why were you asking?"

"Found it on the street. Was curious." I say, putting it down on the counter again. "Anything else I should be informed of?"

Felix stops and thinks for a second, pursing his lips. "Come to think of it yeah. I've heard rumors of this one guy doing illegal experiments on some people. Messing with personalities and the brain and souls or some shit like that."

I narrow my eyes. Personalities? Souls? What the hell... What is wrong with people today. "Volunteers or kidnapped?"

"Kidnapped."

"Mm." I stare at the dog tag again, and suddenly an idea pops into my head. One that worries me greatly. "You said not military?"

"Nope. Why are you so into this?"

I lay my head on the counter, staring at the dog tag. "I just got this hunch, you know?" I stop, saying quieter. "One that I hope I'm wrong about..."

***

It's been a total of two weeks. And not a single word has passed through Seán's lips. He eats and sleeps and acts like a normal human. But he doesn't talk, and he always seems shy. It only seems to prove that my hunch might be correct, which terrifies me. If he was part of those experiments... I just don't wanna think about it.

I had to go out for a little while, pick up some groceries. I'm just getting back now, slightly worried that I'll find the house in shambles. But I walk through the door to see everything still intact. I put the groceries down by the front door, and I go to yell that I'm home. But I don't. Instead I freeze, listening intently.

There's music. A soft instrumental, piano it sounds like. It's pretty, but that's not all. In the middle of the living room floor, sitting down with his back turned to me, is Seán... Singing. It's very quiet, and a simple "la, da da" rather than words, but it's beautiful. Simply beautiful. I smile, walking closer to him very quietly.

In these two weeks I've grown a deep connection to Seán, and honestly this is just making it even better. His singing is beautiful, no matter how simple. Eventually though I seem to get close enough that he senses my presence for he stops singing, hums questionably, and turns around. The moment he sees me his eyes widen and his cheeks turn bright red.

"That was amazing Seán." I say it quietly. He just whines a bit and turns, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his hands. "Aw, don't be shy! Come on, encore! Encore!" I cheer quietly, chuckling. I sit next to him, smiling. I mean, who wouldn't smile?

***

It's been a month. A whole god damn month and I've learned in this last month that I attach quickly. I know this because I'm pretty sure I love Seán. I love him, and I wish I could tell him but I can't. Not only do I not know how he'll react, but I'm also not sure where he's come from yet and I don't wanna get into more trouble then I already have.

Today I decided to bring Seán with me to the store, only to pick up a few groceries I couldn't get last time. We're walking down an alley, him following close behind me as we take my little shortcuts back to the house. So far no police, no anyone. That is, until I hear a clang behind me.

"Hey! Fischbach!" I smile a bit. I recognize the voice. It's a dealer I met with once for a job, cheated him out of his stock. I hand Seán the groceries, swinging the club I brought over my shoulder. I turn, smiling still.

"Ken! Old friend! What brings you around?" I ask. I look behind me and mouth for Seán to go hide behind the wall. He nods and does, but I see him peek out from behind to watch. I turn back around to Ken when he scoffs.

"This is what brought me around!" He says, and pulls out a knife, pointing it at me. My smile widens.

"Awesome!" I chuckle, stepping closer. "I'm always up to teach an eager friend like you a thing or two." I say, and Ken's stance falters. I walk up to him. "Lesson number one..." With one swift move I grab the knife and throw it over my head, away from Ken. "Catch your opponent off guard!"

"W-wait..."

"Lesson number two..." I raise the club. "Use any given opportunity to your advantage!" And with that I swing, hitting him hard in the head. He falls backwards, hitting the wall and slumping against it, lazily keeping his eyes open as he fights for consciousness. I kneel over him. "You might wanna work on your dodging there Ken." I say and with that I hit him again, knocking him out.

I sigh, staring at my handiwork. God damn dealers... They just can't lose properly... I do have to feel bad for Ken however. At one point he could have been a partner. He just decided to live a different life then I and that was his decision. Plus he expected a fair fight after an unfair win. That was just idiocy.

"Alright Seán. Let's keep walk...ing..." I turn around as I say this to see that Seán isn't standing behind the wall with the groceries anymore. He's standing in the middle of the alley, a few yards away, staring at the floor... With the knife in his hands. "Seán... Put the knife down..." I say, shaking slightly. I walk slowly towards him. Big mistake.

As soon as I take my third step his head snaps up and I see that his eyes are no longer warm, kind and careful but cold, evil and malicious. He wears a bright grin, one that practically screams murder. And in only a moment he's rushing up to me, swinging left and right. I dart around.

"Seán. Seán! Seán! Come on! Listen to me!" I say, swinging the club up to block the next blow. But he doesn't, he just keeps swinging and fighting. And he's strong. Really fucking strong. No clue how, with how thin he is it's impossible for him to be so strong, but he is. And he's determined. Determined to see blood.

He swings, I block. With how quick he's moving I never have a chance to attack him, not something I want to do... But I also don't want to die. His moves never slow, he never hesitates. He just attacks, smiling and swinging. He doesn't seem to tire, he doesn't seem to hesitate, he makes no move to stop any time soon.

"Seán please! Just put the god damn knife down!" I yell but he just laughs and swings again, this time making a deep cut on my upper arm. I grit my teeth, inhaling sharply. But I refuse to let it get to me. I take the window of opportunity and I use the club to hit him in the stomach, making his stance falter.

He growls and swings again, making another cut on my chest, though this one shallower. I hit him again, making him falter once more. Then I rush in, grabbing his wrist with one hand and taking the knife with the other. I throw it as far as I can and then I restrain Seán's wrists, not letting him go to get it.

"Seán get it together. Please. Listen to me." I say but he doesn't. He just keeps fighting, and keeps struggling. And then...

I pull him in for a hug, wrapping my arms around him. His first instinct is to try to get me to let go, so he bites my shoulder, but I don't loosen my grip. I just keep my arms around him, and though he struggles and kicks and punches and bites, I stay there... Hugging him.

"Seán... I don't know what they did to you. I don't know how broken you are. But it's okay now. It's okay... You're safe. You're safe with me and you always will be. It was just a nightmare, okay? You're fine... I love you to much to let anything happen to you." I say it all quietly, and as I speak he slowly calms down.

Until finally he wraps his arms around me as well, crying softly. I shush him, rubbing my hand up and down his back slowly in a comforting way. And we just stand there, him crying, me comforting. And I'm perfectly fine with it. And then...

"M-Mark..." He whispers, and my heart flutters at the sound of his voice. His perfect, wonderful, beautiful voice. He has a slight Irish accent, which surprises me, but makes me love it that much more. "Mark... I'm sorry..." He cries, hugging me tighter.

I kiss the top of his head, closing my eyes. "It's fine. I forgive you... You're okay, I promise." I say, tears coming to my eyes as well. He inhales shakily, before speaking once more.

"I love you too..." He says, his voice quiet. I smile softly, pulling away from the hug only to grab his hand and look him in his gorgeous ocean blue eyes.

"Let's go home Seán."