Dim light from the television gently flashed across the shadows of young men on a couch. One was sound asleep on the couch arm, the other wide awake and sitting upright. Lee was deep in thought, as usual.

    "I've always been a simple man," he thought. "Nowadays, I'm a simple man with too much to say and no energy to say it. Most times a nod or a few 'hmms' will suffice. It's odd how similar Eris and I are in this matter. When people want you to talk, they'll ask. You shouldn't go around rambling for hours, as my mother used to. Sure it's nice, but when you see someone's hand reaching for the doorknob and you're still talking, that's a sign that they're planning on leaving. Yes, I'm big on body language. The placement of a hand on a chin can be a sign of boredom, favoring one leg over the other can be a sign of complacency, and gazing up in a conversation can be an indication of remembrance, just to name a few. Andrius taught me a bit about body language, as one of many things he taught me. It's a shame that the brightest lights burn out the fastest."

    Eris stirred in his sleep and the crutches that were propped up on the couch arm came crashing to the floor a few seconds later. Lee snapped his head up, staring at his roommate while he shook off his thoughts. It was relatively late, a little past one am. Eris was leaning on the left arm of the couch still deep in sleep. Unsure of what to do, Lee began fidgeting with the bandana on his left bicep, reached downward to pick up his crutches, then got up to go to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, gently moving his hair with his fingertips to look at the scars that littered his hairline. Painful memories flooded his mind. He tried to push them aside. Vanity is the fault of humanity, he thought, vain wretched creatures. He sighed and ruffled his hair before turning off the light. He blinked unevenly and ambled back into the living room. Eris was awake, perched on one of the kitchen stools like a gargoyle. That was a favorite thing of his, although Lee had no clue why.

    "Just sit in the chair like a normal human!" he'd said. Both of them knew it was pointless to correct Eris' behavior, but Lee still tried.

    He walked over to Eris and leaned against the sink, "What are you doing there?"

    Eris didn't reply but refused to leave his perch. Lee looked at the floor and couldn't help laughing. White powder and glass shards littered the tile. Eris' shirt was covered in flour and his face was flushed with embarrassment.

     "Early morning baking? Get it I guess."

     Eris nodded, still not getting off of the stool.

    "Here buddy, I'll help you down. But you know I can't get on the floor to sweep this up. It's just an accident, Eris, I'm not mad."

    Eris choked out a pitiful, "I know," and took Lee's hand to get down from the stool. I just wanted to make snickerdoodle cookies, Eris thought. I didn't plan on making a mess, although it seems like that's the only thing I'm good at.

    Lee stuck his face near his friends, "Earth to Eris! You still in there?"

    Eris shook his head yes and walked to the cleaning closet to search for the broom. Lee clicked back into the living room and fumbled for the TV remote, which then fell off the coffee table and onto the floor. The lower cover slide slipped off and the two AAA batteries inside rolled away.

    He grimaced, "...darn it. No TV this morning."

    Within minutes, Lee was sawing logs as he slipped off into his dreams.

     By this time, Eris had cleaned up most of the flour and jumped at the opportunity to start again. He hung the broom back up on the third screw, like he was supposed to, and shut the door. A few minutes later, he emerged from the landing crawl space with a stepstool. He wasn't going to be risking a fall again. It was nearing two-thirty now. Prepare for a new house air freshener, he told himself, I'm not breaking or burning things this time. Eris pulled out his spiral-bound baking book and pulled his hair back into a tight ponytail. He derived great joy from this, as his hair was just long enough to do so. Eris was quite proud of his hair, considering the great challenges he had in the past with it. It was a good length now, leaving him content. He placed his headphones on and put on one of his favorite playlists.

     Before long, Eris was dancing around in the kitchen while he folded the batter. A surprisingly pleasant aroma rose in the kitchen as the oven door was opened. I didn't burn them this time! was the only thought going through Eris' head at the moment. He placed them on a cooling rack and burnt his tongue by trying a cookie while it was still hot. Eris backed up against the counter, fanning his mouth dramatically, pitying himself for doing such a thing. He padded softly behind the couch where Lee was sleeping and stared at him. Lee sure is a sound sleeper, if I were him I would have woken up to the kitchen commotion, he thought, but maybe he hasn't always been that hard of a sleeper. Eris stared at his friend, then at the arm crutches that Lee used to motor around. 

     When they had first met, Lee did not carry canes anywhere on his person, but now, he was completely dependent on them. It was discouraging to Eris since he knew that Lee was hurting and merely putting on a brave face every morning. Even though he had nothing to do with Lee's condition, Eris still felt guilty knowing that he couldn't cure him.

     Eris made his way to the center of the living room and knelt, picking up one of the batteries, "No wonder the dang remote never works, the batteries were all corroded," he whispered, "only a matter of time before the thing started leaking."

     He stared at the few drops of battery acid on the ground and briefly panicked. He pulled out his phone, searching for how to clean acid off the floor. Some articles suggested lemon juice, others vinegar or baking soda. His thoughts went racing again. Wait, no. Baking soda was for car batteries? Or was...I don't know. But I do know we have vinegar. Following the instructions of the random article, Eris sacrificed his toothbrush to the cause and scrubbed the inside of the remote and the linoleum flooring. It was at this point that he read the instructions for dab, not scrub. Hopefully, nothing would go awry with the remote. Hopefully. He walked back to the bathroom to throw away his toothbrush. He sat on the floor, leaning against the bathtub. The cookies were still on the pan, cooling, as Eris slowly lowered his head to rest on the tub rim. He slipped off into sleep as the toothbrush slowly slipped from his fingers. His hair fell out of his ponytail and framed his face as he slept. Both boys were sleeping for a little while before Lee woke up again. It wasn't uncommon for the two to be awake at polar opposite times. Eris worked during the day, and Lee had a remote job monitoring nighttime surveillance tapes.

     It had been a few years since the accident. A few years since the accident that crippled Lee, and would continue to cripple him for years. Diagnosed with MS when he was eleven, Lee knew he wouldn't have a normal life. He was fifteen when his world completely crumbled apart. His friend Cynthia was driving him home from a school production. The radio was off, and Cynthia was driving cautiously, as it was a popular city after dark. No one ever has any idea what could jump out at you. Unbeknownst to the two friends, a street race was heating up. One of the competitors sped out of an alley, slamming their hood into the passenger side of Cynthia's car, pinning Lee's legs in place. The car spun counterclockwise, folding the driver-side door on a lamppost. In a blur of blood, glass shards, and screams, his world seemed to end. That was the last time Lee Faolan walked without his mobility canes and the last time he spoke with his best friend: his sister.

      Lee sat, staring blankly at the television screen, colorful light flashing on his face. He gazed sideways at his crutches and knocked them over, then tugged at the bandana on his arm. It's always the same, he thought, television dramas are always the same. We inflict injury and loss on characters for the entertainment of the audience. They think it's entertaining...it's all for character development...theories and laughs. He turned the TV off and covered his head with the nearest blanket, making him look like a white couch ghost without eyes. He sat there not sleeping, just sitting, for three hours. He flung the sheet from his body. It was now 6:40 am and the sun was in his eyes, making them water. His eyes shifted to the linoleum living room floor, scanning momentarily before stopping at the foot of his crutches. He smiled at them, but the smile quickly faded. He lowered himself to the ground to grab them and scooted to his step stool. He pulled himself up and leaned on his crutches.

     His eyes quickly darted to the snickerdoodle cookies on the counter and he made his way over to them. His roommate loved to bake but always forgot to spray the pans with grease. Lee stabbed at the cookies, managing to scrape them from the metal. He let out an exasperated sigh and stared at the now-sorry excuse for a dessert. Heck, Eris hadn't even made all of the cookies. He'd made a single pan, leaving the rest of the batter in the bowl by the sink. Chuckling, Lee began preheating the oven. He rather liked baking, it was an activity that he and his sister had taken up when Lee was five. He may not have been the best helper, but he knew that he liked being there. Cynthia may have hated snickerdoodle cookies, but at least these tasted good. She would have been proud of him. He stacked up the cooled cookies in a pyramid and looked over his shoulder to the remainder of the batter. He'd made up his mind. He was going to make one of those leftover blobs. Those blobs that don't look like anything, but always seem to taste better than any other cookie from the batch. Lee was now content, knowing he had finished up the batter before it went bad, sneaking in some tastes of course. He thought to go check on Eris, but he realized that the man was most likely at work, so there wasn't any need. He left the dishes in the sink. Eris would get to them later. Lee pulled a plastic bowl down from the cupboard and filled it halfway with milk.

     He'd always been a milk-before-cereal person and no one had been able to convince him otherwise successfully, even Andrius. It had been a while since Lee had allowed himself to think about that man, as much as he had meant to him. Andrius Faolan was a remarkable man in the eyes of many people, not just Lee. An honorably discharged veteran who continued to serve those around him by becoming a priest. Lee hadn't always been content with his life, but after he joined the church outreach program, Faolan taught him that there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

     "People aren't always peak versions of themselves," he'd once told a twelve-year-old Lee, "It's okay to be upset."

    Lee was more than upset. He wouldn't be swayed by a few simple words. He was furious because of the things he was forced to watch as he grew up. He was repulsed by the scars on his scalp from one man. He hated himself for resembling a man that he considered to be a monster. Alexander Ichiro was more than just a monster: he was the devil in human flesh. Lee didn't grow up as Lee Faolan but as Lee Ichiro. After his father was removed from the picture to serve a life sentence in prison, and his mother was placed in a rehabilitation center, Andrius took him under his wing, even more so than he already had as Lee's religious leader. When he became a legal adult, Lee went through the grueling process of changing his last name in an attempt to sever his ties to his biological family. High school was hard enough, knowing that your classmates would poke fun at you or crack jokes about your parents. What made it worse, was growing up with a disability. Classmates would steal your crutches or pile into the elevator when you needed the service instead. He wasn't prepared for the workforce when he graduated, and he certainly wasn't prepared to live on his own. Andrius helped him find an apartment downtown. He wouldn't have to go it alone either. There would be a roommate waiting for him when he arrived.

     Roommates can be intimidating, especially when they make no effort to communicate with you. For a while, Lee was unable to wrap his head around the habits of Eris Haynes. The two roommates lived on opposite ends of the apartment, only seeing each other when they had to cook in the kitchen. Lee was a troubled man, as was Eris. Eris was secretive, always had been. The only things that were well-known about him were his affinity for baking and his clumsy nature. He was a kind man of very few words; just like Lee. Two weeks into their situation, the two started to become friends. Lee decided to unconventionally bridge the invisible gap between the both of them. Little notes showed up on Eris' things. A post-it on his laptop, his bedroom door, and the TV remote. Notes wishing him to 'have a good day at work', 'I left you a sandwich in the fridge', or 'you can have my leftovers'. A few days into the random note placing, Eris walked into the living room when Lee was watching TV. He sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket off of Lee. The two young men made eye contact, not saying a word. Eris curled up with the blanket and fell asleep. Peculiar behavior, but nothing out of the ordinary for Eris. The two continued to awkwardly dance around the urge to speak with one another but had nothing to say.

    Even now that they were good friends, it was rare for Lee to have a blanket. Eris would steal them all for himself and his little cave of a room. It had taken a while, but the two were opening up to one another. Socialization made Eris anxious, causing him to shut down and stare at anyone who came near him. Lee had caught him speaking with himself though. Eris had a scratchy voice, but it was pleasant. They'd had two small verbal exchanges during the five years that they had lived together. One about sardines not belonging on pizza and the second about who moved the dish rag. Typically, Eris would nod or gesture with his hands when he wanted to communicate, but he was getting better. It was a learning process. And you can't rush progress.

     Lee zoned back in and stared at his spoon, before gazing out of the window, watching the birds at his neighbor's feeder gleefully flit about, fighting over spots at the feeder. Slightly left, his neighbor Catherine appeared to be running late for work, dropping her car keys down the stairs. She'd make it on time to her job though. That woman knew every shortcut in the book. Lee focused on his soggy cereal once more. Eris usually texts me when he arrives at work, he thought, I'm sure he just forgot.

     He dumped the mushy remnants of cereal into the trash can and snagged his jacket off of the countertop. His hand was on the doorknob when a faint phone ring sounded off in the distance. The landline. While he was tempted to allow the phone to go to voicemail, as they always say, curiosity gets the cat.

    He picked it up on the last ring, an unfamiliar voice speaking to him from the other line, "Is this the address of Lee Faolan?"

    His brows furrowed with concern, "Who's asking?"

    The question was dodged, "There's been an accident. You could be a vital resource in our search."

    The phone hung on the line, and no sounds came from either end of the phone.

    "Sir?"

    He mustered up the courage to drive deeper, "Yes, it is. Who are you searching for?"

    The voice on the line hesitated, "Eris Ichiro? We've received a tip about his residence. His last known place of residence was at your address. Is that correct?"

    Lee inhaled sharply, digging his fingernails into his arm. Although he was tempted, he did not respond. He left the phone dangling on the line as he zipped his coat and rushed towards the door, almost tripping.

    "This can't be a coincidence," Lee muttered to himself, "this can't be a coincidence. Eris, what have you been hiding from me?"

-=-=-=-