I wake up with a jolt, electricity sparking in my brain as I come around to gun shots nearby. The resulting migraine digs in though my ears; each shot of the hundreds being fired like a small explosion in my mind. I don`t bother going for my pistol anymore then the rabbit in my arms even bothers to wake up. Her kind don`t seem to care anymore (their history is too riddled with war would be my guess) so I see no reason to move. Tracing her ears as she sleeps I look around my apartment as I consider why I`m in this grime stained place. The floors are in a desperate need of a hoovering, dark yellow tinged wall paper that in a past life was white and the awe inspiring mountain of dishes…

The boy looks around tiredly, observing his apartment with his gold tinged eyes with the thick blankets wrapped around himself and the cream coloured rabbit laid bare in his the nook of his arm. He considers himself a man despite his youthful age of seventeen. He wonders how Sally will take him sleeping with one of Knotholes youngest members, the pair both barely legal and by Julius`s laws illegal to be together just by species.

He gently stands, brushing the rabbit into the beds depths and tucking her in before walking towards the pile of clothes by his draws. The oak stares accusingly, its once grand shade obscured by dust and poor care as he takes an outfit from on top and dresses, ties his shoulder length white hair into a small ponytail and looks down at the white shirt and black joggers he is now wearing. A vital moment of confusion hits him as his socks seem to be…gone.

Cream wakes up tiredly once her partner walks across the room, the gunshots and loneliness hitting her instantly. She glances around quickly before noticing him staring out the window, it being open. "John?" she whispers, as if afraid the human might disappear within a second, the same way he appeared the first time she`d ever broken one of Sally`s rules, saving her life. He just glances back, smiles and then looks away again.

"Looks like their getting their Tail`s in a twist over at the bank honey, a lot of cops coming out and in, body bags and all…" he laughs grimly as she winces. While she knows the humans he speaks of are her foe the casual way he watches his own species die has always pained her. He doesn`t say anything else, not even when she stands and walks across the room, equipping the dress he made himself, the sewing almost as eloquent as the sub-atomic binding used to attach the nanofibre bullet resistant material within it.

It makes her laugh when she thinks about it, that fateful night when he sat there as she recovered, half conscious and bandaged as he sat bloodied in battle armour, sewing needle in hand and a strange hand held device by him fixing her dress and muttering about the poor quality of the seams. Something about there never being enough resistance.

"Did you say Tails?" she says, walking up behind him.