We arrive at Dave's house because of my perfect memory. Yeah, not so much, they had a path put in, so we followed that. 
Apollo pushes the door open, making sure to hold it for me. 
The house was filled with the sounds of Mylo screaming in pain. 
Apollo silently shuts the door, exchanging a look with me.
We tiptoe to the kitchen, revealing the sight of Dave stitching up the long deep wound on Mylo's chest.
I involuntarily gasp, calling the attention of Dave.
"Didn't I tell you to go to Sarah's?" He asks.
I swallow the saliva in my mouth. "We got lost."
Dave gives a dry, sarcastic chuckle. "Might as well help then." He turns his attention to Mylo.
Mylo had tears rolling down his wincing face. He was gripping the side of the counter, which had
turned his knuckles white.
"Get me a towel." Dave orders.
I nod and head to the upstairs bathroom, grabbing a hand towel from the towel rack. I then walk down the stairs and hand the hand towel to Dave. 
"Thank you." He says, sticking the towel in Mylo's mouth. "Bite down on that, okay?"
Mylo nods, and bites down on the towel. 
"I'm scared." Apollo whispers. 
I look down at him.
He was looking up at me like a recently kicked puppy. "Is Mylo gonna make it?"
"Yeah, don't worry, I trust Dave and you should, too." I say, grabbing his small hand.
"Okay, I do." Apollo says.
I nod and give him a small reassuring smile, turning my attention back to Dave and Mylo.
Dave pulls the black stitching string through Mylo's skin, sewing together the two separated bits of skin.
Mylo was struggling, gripping onto the counter, his knuckles white, his face red with strain.
It wasn't long before Mylo just went limp, his eyes closing and hands relaxing.
Apollo gasps, already moving forward to attack Dave.
"He's unconscious, too much pain and blood loss, I'll stitch him up and he'll be okay."

I give a subtle nod, grabbing Apollo's bicep before he could get any closer to Dave.
"You can head up to his bedroom for now, you two look like a wreck, try to get some sleep." He says.
"Okay." I nod, leading Apollo up the stairs.
Apollo was tense and stressed, his arm was stiff and he seemed to be angry. "I'll kill that idiot if he kills Mylo." He whispers.
"I would have to stop you, Dave's Mylo's best friend, I think he trusts him." I say, pushing open the door to Mylo's room.
We were immediately hit with the smell of Mylo's cologne and hints of laundry detergent.
"You go lay down, I have to go to the bathroom." I lie, ushering Apollo over to the bed.
He nods, kicking off his shoes and climbing into the bed. 
I walk into Mylo's private bathroom and lock the door. I make eye contact with myself in the mirror. I looked so much different, the bags under my eyes seeming to be the most prominent thing on my face, contrasting with the color of my skin. My eyes were terrifying. The whites were still there, just the iris had changed color. A midnight black replacing the warming blue. My new eyes were strange and hollowing. They seemed to be drained of all previous life. 
I reach over and flush the toilet, then turn on the sink, splashing water onto my face. I unlock the door and shut the light off, of both the bathroom and bedroom.
I lay down next to Apollo and he seem to stick to me, wrapping his arms around my ribs.
The little bit of comfort this gives relaxes me, and I fall into a death-like sleep.

I don't know how long passed while I slept, but when I awoke Apollo was gone and mindless chatter was echoing through the air.
I stand and walk downstairs, letting my feet memorize the pattern the stair seem to run in. 
Mylo was awake and sitting up, a white mug in his hand. He had somehow acquired a black tee shirt. The key fell effortlessly in the center of his pectorals.
He looks over at me and gives me a closed-mouthed grin, waving the mug through the air as a weird greeting type thing.  
Apollo walked up behind me with a mug as well. 
I smile down at him, running my hand through his hair. 
He passes the mug to me, the smell of coffee wafting through the air and into my nostrils. 
I took a lengthy drink, letting the warm liquid trickle down my throat. I look back over at Mylo, who was sipping his own drink.
He looks over at me, catching my eyes with his red ones, happiness running through them. 
And for the first time in a long time. I feel normal.