L-4 stood from his seat on the ground when the door opened and quickly shook his head. "The jacket ripped a seam and came loose, so I undid the rest." He lied evenly. "I would hope you leave him out of future bonds unless absolutely necessary, as he did well to agree to behave as long as I am with him. I'm sure you believe in my ability to keep him under control, if anything." Surely they did. No one could punch through double-layer cinder blocks and a steel girder as if it were cardboard, only L-4. He could restrain Silence if necessary, though he hoped it wouldn't be. He had twenty-nine days now to teach Silence how to at least feign good behavior and not give in to outbursts that would have him restrained on a daily basis or kept under lock and key.

The orderlies nodded their approval, though it was stiff and hesitant, and the doctor ushered both of them out of the room. He kept L-4 close by Silence as a precaution as they walked away from the room, and L-4 kept his mouth shut tight. Really, what use was there in forcing someone named Silence to talk more than he needed to? Especially not in front of these people.

Silence followed L-4 and the doctor to the large open room again, happy to be able to walk there without being dragged. It seemed being the pale man's brother worked out in a good way after all. They were deposited on a table this time, where paper and plastic scissors and crayons were kept. Silence blinked down at the paper, wondering what he was supposed to do with it. He could fashion a deadly weapon out of anything, though he knew that doing so would see him punished and one step away from reuniting with his Father.

He picked up a black crayon with unsteady hands. He had never coloured or drawn in his life. Yet, he wanted to give it a try. He started scribbling, smiling at the patterns that spread about the white piece of paper. He searched for his favourite colour, but found that for some reason they had removed all the red crayons.

This again. L-4 had been subjected to this juvenile thing for years, though he'd never been certain just how long until Silence told him. How much time had he wasted here? Sighing, they were left relatively alone, and he sat in one of the chairs, picking up a blue crayon and lightly coloring in the square of paper nearest him. "They do this so they can get a sense of what you aren't telling them." L-4 said after a time, looking up to Silence furiously scribbling. "They can see inner emotions based on what you draw or make."

He didn't know if Silence knew this already, but he might as well break the deafening quiet. Usually he preferred it, being quiet, with only the very dim ticking in his ears that followed him everywhere. He liked that ticking, not only because it made him feel a good kind of different, but because it was comforting and kind, a warm noise that lulled him to sleep at night and reminded him of his creator---his father. Absently, L-4 used a brown crayon to draw a circle.

"I see nothing but chaos," he said quietly, looking down at his scribbles. "Nothing new there." He tossed the picture to one side and picked up another, enjoying the feeling of the crayon on the paper. He stopped for a second and turned his head suddenly, glaring at another patient who had walked past and stopped to watch them with curiosity. He longed to jump on it and kill it, but the soft ticking from L-4 made him calm, somehow.

"L, why do you tick?" he asked the pale man, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

L-4 glanced up from his circles. This was the first time he realized that Silence had called him L, which was what his father called him. The 4 was simple mechanics, to identify which he was in paperwork. Only it had stuck with all the professionals in the asylum that refused to give him that little shred of humanity. "I... tick because I don't have a human heart." He said at last, staring down at his paper. "I have a cold fusion reactor in my chest and it gives me energy as a human heart's beats would, so when energy releases, the pressure valve ticks." Like a clock. Tick, tick, deep and even, precise in its measured energy releases as a human's heart could never be.

"Do you hear my ticking?" He asked suddenly. No one really could until they were close enough, usually within an inch or two of his chest. It was low, generally. Quiet.

"I hear everyone's heart beats in this room," Silence lent closer and whispered this to L-4. "And yours confused me from the moment I heard it." He straightened up, going back to scribbling in a nonsensical way. This was a lot more entertaining than watching the flickering box that show cutesy cartoons. He nodded towards an old looking patient. This one seemed as though he was dozy, his body parts shaking as though about to fall off him.

"That one. That one is about to die. Its heart is so weak." He looked back at the pale man, wondering what he was if he was not human. "So you are a machine?" That explained a lot. Silence had seen a lot of different androids and cyborgs in his life, but L-4 was definitely the most convincing. "My Father used to make machines for companies. He might be able to create a heart for you, if you wanted a proper one."

L-4 looked up, suddenly put into a defensive mode. "I'm not a machine..." He said hesitantly. "I... Machines don't have... cells, they don't have emotions, or sensations or the ability to feel or bleed or know right from wrong, can be programmed to want only what their creator wants and have no free-will. And..." He stared at the paper, drawing more circles. "I can't replace my reactor with a regular heart. I wouldn't, even if I could. I would... malfunction, and die..." The others called it 'shut down'. No, he wasn't a machine. He would die, not shut down. Not break.

Still, he knew Silence was trying to be kind, or at least offering something in a kind way. "Thank you though." He added quickly. "I... I appreciate that." He played with a green crayon and wished red were available. Maybe he could draw a rose---they were lacking in the facility, roses.

"Oh... Not a machine..." Silence muttered as the patient he had mentioned slumped over as though he had just fallen asleep. He heard the sound of a struggling heart and then quiet... He grinned. That sound brought back so many memories. He stopped scribbling and looked over as the doctors picked the patient up and took him from the room. No one else seemed to have noticed or even cared that one of their own had just died. What a miserable life.

"Father was going to make me into a machine. So I could live forever."

L-4 stared at the man as his heart stopped. His sight could see it, his infrared sight, it could see that the man's heart had stopped and now, his body was cooling. Even as the doctors picked him up and carried him away, his hands and feet were turning blue. L-4 blinked, and his vision returned to normal.

"You... don't want to be a machine." He said. "It may make things easier, to you, but then, if you live forever... You will see everyone die. You will have no hand in it. And you will see your father die. Like mine..." He hadn't see his father die, though, but had a horrible feeling of dread. He would never see his father as he used to be again. Never that middle-aged man, smiling warmly, sweetly, like a father truly should, instead of a creator.

"Father can't die," Silence said. "We would live forever together." That was what the man had told him. Why would his Father lie? The man had no reason to lie to his only son, his proudest creation. He set down the crayons now, staring out the barred windows. He had never wanted to see the outside world more than he did now. To see his Father again... To kill again... He couldn't wait to leave this place. He turned his attention to L-4.

"So. How do I convince them I am normal?" he asked quietly.

What had this young man been fed? Had his father really told him such a thing? Or was Silence's father one of his own father's past three creations? L-1, L-2, or L-3? He'd never met them before, because his creator had never spoken of them. He'd said they didn't fit the appearance he was hoping for. He'd said they had problems in their head that made them unstable. Mental. Perhaps one had made a life for himself.

He looked at Silence. "You listen to me, to the doctors and nurses and anyone else that give you direction. You bury your murderous instincts and desires so you can appear as normal as you can. You do as they ask, and follow along their paths. It will be difficult... I know. It is so difficult. They try to confuse you. They try to... change you. But you can ignore it, tell them what they want to hear so they will leave you alone. And after some time, you will be trusted... When you earn it." He looked down again. Silence was predetermined to kill. He had to, though, squash that, if only for a while.

(LOL, Master, check your posts :P)

Silence sighed quietly, sitting back in his chair. It seemed so hard, but not impossible. He was good at hiding emotions, disguising who and what he really was. It was what his Father had taught him. Sometimes he had to appear normal enough, though those were rare. His Father never really showed him to others, because of his appearance. When he did show him off, it was to fellow inventors. Some of which he was then ordered to murder.

The crayons were getting boring now, and so was L-4's presence. He was itching to go outside again, to hide in the shadows and kill.

L-4 stared at his creation, not much more than nonsensical spirals on paper, but surely they would find some kind of 'deeper meaning' in it. He twisted the blue crayon in his hand, which he'd replaced a while ago in more favor, and crushed the cheap thing effortlessly into powder. Someone approached from the left, and he twitched sideways to meet them before they touched his shoulder. One of the nurses, who bent down to speak quietly: "It's time to go outside, would you like to?"

He nodded, glancing at Silence. He seemed to have become disinterested, but L-4 neglected to ask if he could come along. That would be too soon. It wouldn't be allowed yet. He stood, looking to Silence with a faint acknowledgment, and followed the nurse. An hour outside might clear his mind. It might take some of the worry he felt for Silence. But he wasn't stupid, the young man. If he really wanted more freedom, he'd begin to learn to quell his entwined urge to kill. He went through a sliding glass door, then another, and was outside. The grass was soft, and he took his shoes off to feel it underfoot. Of course, he felt. And it felt good, a lot of times. They just couldn't understand that, even after so many years. No wonder he'd lost track of time.

Silence watched the odd ticking man be led away by one of the nurses. He wanted to go outside too, but knew that they wouldn't let him. He had to be good, act like a normal human being. Soon he'd be with his father again.

He thought about the man that had created him, that had taught him how to kill and how to stealthily slink away into the shadows. He could get in and out of anywhere undetected and he had never been caught. Until one day, when many masked men burst into their home, restraining him and taking his father away. He had wanted to break free and kill everyone on sight, but... His father had told him to be good. He had told Silence not to kill them. Soon they'd be together again... He was then forced to sleep and when he awoke, he was in this place. They had also unstitched his mouth, and being able to open it terrified him.

He wondered how L-4 had been taken from his father, how he had ended up here. He hoped they could both escape. Maybe L-4's father was still alive.

He sat in the corner of the grassy landmass and sighed. Silence was a special case. He had to be. More than him, indeed. He was just in denial, so everyone said. But if he was in denial, wouldn't that be a human emotion? Surely... But they didn't detect such loopholes in their logic. They just wanted him to admit he was a robot and end it all, but he refused. And they didn't like to be proven wrong. Didn't like to be second-guessed. He leaned against the cool cinder block walls and stared at the other patients as they came out for their hour outside. Some were with nurses or orderlies in case they felt the urge to act out. But L-4 was alone. It suited him just fine.

What would he do? He had to get Silence to meld to the form of a 'good' patient. And for L-4 to be with him each day, Silence would have to agree specifically to that. Maybe sign something. Could he write? Surely he could... L-4 sighed, curling up and staring at the sky. The clouds moved by quietly... Silently. He smiled lightly, but didn't really know where that came from. Maybe he was just sad enough that it felt like some twisted form of happiness. How much had the world changed without him?