Quiet.

There was nothing but the shrill echo of quiet as Dan poured himself a bowl of cereal, not really paying attention to the pieces that spilled onto the floor. He fumbled for the the milk carton, unseating it from it's place in the fridge and moments later sitting down at the breakfast nook.

He'd been like this all morning, his thoughts drowning out most everything else and he couldn't break himself from it. Nagging were these thoughts shredding every piece of interference that dared to intrude. Words muttered dismissively at the newspaper contents as he quickly read over the headlines before standing, and clutching his head.

How appropriate. A headache is all that I need now.

Pacing to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, his fingers grazed the grimy metal mirror, prying it open to access the tylenol that lay in wait. Gripping two tablets, he washed them down with some soda, which he'd left open the previous night. It's contents flat, but he was beyond caring.

Nearly an hour later, he awoke from his nap on the grungy sofa to a knock at the door. The escape of a few obscenities from his mouth as he stumbled over some garbage on the floor, one hand dusting off his shirt as he reached for the knob.

There stood Chris, looking worried.

He shuffled his feet nervously as he stood in place worried he might offend Dan. Such was often the case.

"You didn't show up for the movie matinee you'd been ranting about for so long. Are you okay?"

Dan merely looked flatly at his counterpart, shrugging his shoulders in dismissal. Something apparently was wrong. Heading back inside the apartment both of them plunked down on the couch, Chris becoming more concerned by the moment as he watched Dan's actions.

Dan meanwhile stared into space for what seemed like a few seconds his expression blank, then distressed. It was clear something significant had been on his mind for awhile, however Chris was unsure how to approach these situations with his shorter friend. Experience had told him he had a penchant for being unpredictable at times.

It seemed however that this would not be an issue for long as Dan's eyes focused on Chris, silently questioning;debating before forming his question.

"Have you ever had something troubling you, but you don't know what to do or how to feel? Kind of like an enigma that refuses to yield any answer but it persists in your thoughts?"

Fiddling with the pocket zipper on his pants as he pondered this, he looked back at his friend. "I can't say that I have, at least not that I can remember."

Dan furrowed his brow, mildly annoyed.

"You're no help at all." He concluded, letting out a sigh.

With this response, Chris felt a bit guilty. He did want to be of help. Putting a finger to his chin in thought, he looked back at his friend. "The best advice I can give is don't let whatever this is stress you out. Just wait patiently for the answer to come to you." This was said with a gentle smile and seemingly appeased Dan.

"You're probably right, Chris. I guess keeping myself preoccupied would be better for me. I just hope it works out easily enough."

Chris stood, as he heard his cellphone buzz. "I'm sure it will, Dan. Oh, that must be Elise. She's been trying to arrange a dinner along with my parents and hers. I sure hope it goes better than last time." He smiled sheepishly as he dialed his wife, taking a few minutes to talk with her. Pausing at the door, Chris looked back at his friend with an expression of genuine worry. "Oh and Dan? Please try and get some rest. You look like you haven't slept for days."

A few minutes later, he'd said his goodbyes to his friend in order to run errands for his wife.

That night, Dan found himself sleeping fitfully for the first time in several nights as the cool breeze of the night filtered through his window.

His dreams were different from that of the usual of burning hatred and reveling in his past victories of revenge against those who'd wronged him. No, tonight was different. His body tensing at the caress of unknown hands in this dream, his skin wanting more of the breath that came from a hot whisper as lips traversed every expanse of exposed flesh.

Despite all of this, their face was hidden in the dark gossamer depths of the dream world as if to be taunting him. His body curled up in frustration, the bedsheets tightening around him with every twist as a light sweat formed on his body.

Then out of nowhere, something fell, landing squarely on his chest and shocking him awake. As his vision adjusted to the darkness, he noticed Mr. Mumbles looking at him with her soft expression, before curling under his arm and humming a gentle purr as she fell asleep there. He himself could not find the depths of slumber so easily. Instead he lay with his thoughts tormenting him yet again, trying in vain to lift the veil of whoever haunted his sleep.

Carefully in his mind, he went over those he knew; friends, enemies and acquaintances alike until he reached a conclusion. This was something that both terrified and fascinated him and yet it called to him, like a forbidden fantasy.

Why had this happened to him? Why had such a thing set about making him feel this way? The thoughts of the dream came back to him as he lay there until he could take no more. Sitting up, he rubbed his face and headed into the bathroom.

Looking at his frazzled reflection, he cursed himself. Why had his body and mind betrayed him? He couldn't believe how vulnerable all of these feelings left him and on some level, he resented it.

Turning on the faucet, he brought handfuls of water to his face to cleanse away the sweat and hopefully refresh his weary mind before going to settle once more in his bed. It was clear he'd have to seek some form of action, lest these thoughts keep assaulting his mind.