Dark. Scared. Run... run, run, run,-

Constrained. Something tugged at his arm. His chest. Ropes. Lines. Rubbery. He tore at them, tore them off,- out.

It was dark. Light in the hallway. They were coming. Not again. Hayate,- help. They would barge in again. Drag him away again. Hurt him.

It was hard to move. Foggy. He fell. He cried out in fear. Dark smears covered the floor when he tried to get up. Blood. No,- there was so much blood. Hayate.

He had to find him. Help him. Dad would help him. Would make him right. Make him move again. But he didn't know where he was. This was different. Not the room with machines.

Noises from outside. He heard voices talking, hurriedly. No! They would come in and take him. He hadn't found Hayate yet. But he was scared. The door flung open.

He screamed and dove into a corner. Sorry, sorry.

Two hands grabbed him. He wailed, tried to curl up and make himself heavy so they couldn't lift him. For a moment the man let go. Said something. He didn't listen. He didn't want to hear mean things again. Angry things. He didn't want to listen anymore. He covered his ears and shook his head. His hand was sticky.

Two hands grabbed his arm and tried to wrench it loose. He screamed. As loud as he could. Until his throat hurt. He tasted iron. That filthy taste again. Let go! Let go let go let,-

He sunk his teeth deep into the man's forearm. The flesh snapped, he tore and growled. Wanted to hurt him. Hurt him as much as he did. Hurt him until he was scared too.

The man recoiled. He ran. Clambered on all fours and into the hallway. Light. Outside. He wanted to leave. Get help. Get out. Find dad.

He slammed into a white wall opposite the door. That heavy feeling again. He didn't know where to go. There was just white. People in white. One stepped closer. Woman. Not one of them. But she reached for him.

He growled. She pulled away. He turned back. The other direction. Away. Outside. Run.

He stumbled on all fours. Back up again. They would catch him. He ran as fast as he could. To the end. Around the corner. More hallway. More people.

A man walked up. With dark hair, and glasses and a beard. Dad.

For a moment he fell still. Relieved. Safe. It was over. He'd go home. He wanted to go home.

He reached out both hands for him. One was bloody. Hurt. Hayate was hurt too.

Help...

No words came out of him. Just stammer. Repeated noises, broken and shattered.

「Hibiki.」His father said softly, kneeling down to hold his face in both hands. He cried. Confused by everything. 「Shh, quiet little one.」Two thumbs wiped the tears from his face, but he couldn't stop crying. He tried to point back where he had come from. Tried to say his name. Tried to say that he wasn't moving. That he needed help. But none of the words left his head.

His father pulled him in closer. A hand grabbed his wrist. The sudden motion terrified him.

No! No!

He screamed again, tried to push himself away. But his father held him still.

「Hey,- hey! Little one. It's okay. Shh, it's okay.」It wasn't. Nothing was okay. He couldn't talk and he felt so heavy and Hayate wasn't there. Bad people were so close. He had to leave. They had to leave. He shook his head and cried in despair.

His father ran a hand through his hair. Whomever had grabbed him let him go again. He didn't know what was happening. Everything was so bright and strange and terrifying.

「Come on, let's go back to bed. It's late.」No... Hayate wasn't there. He shook his head and tried to fight. But he was tired. The heaviness took over again. His father hoisted him up, and he grabbed on tightly. 「You have to go to bed little one. You have to sleep.」

He wanted to sleep. At home. Somewhere safe. But his father carried him back to where he came from.

No. He weakly sobbed. He didn't want to go back. Why are you bringing me back. Why aren't you helping him.

No... no!

He struggled, trying to push himself out of his father's arms. But the man grabbed him firmly. He was stronger too. Everyone was stronger. Bigger. All he could do was cry. Sobbing and squirming.

「Hibiki, please. It's okay.」

No! No it isn't... he's hurt...

His father laid him down and held him onto a soft surface. He cried out,- begged without words. All he wanted was to go home. Dad, no...

「Please, little one. Stop fighting. Don't cry... please don't cry anymore.」His father bent over him, resting his head against his shoulder his as he kept him down. He was warm. He wanted him to be safe. But he didn't know where Hayate was. So he weakly pushed his hand against him. Softly cried.

He was tired. Nobody listened.

Nothing made sense. He stopped trying to make sense of it.