Loud breathing echoes through the room, painted in white. Covered in bandages, a young man lies in bed with his right leg held up by a rope. Next to him, sits another man with black hair. He worried about his partner, since he was asleep for two days.

Suddenly, a hoarse cough followed by several more alarmed the man, making him quickly stand up and lift the respirator of his friend.

"John? Are you alright?"

The gleaming bright ceiling lamps, run by gas, dazzled the patient, who quickly covered his eyes with his hands.

"Aaron? Is that you? ...Are you dead too?"

Startled by the question, the black haired man smiled and replied.

"Yes and no. Yes it's me, and no I am not dead and neither are you."

Hearing that, John pushed his bandaged body up his pillow and looked at the palms of his hands. Opening and closing them as if to confirm that he really was still alive.

"I see, thank you Aaron. I knew I could count on you to rescue me."

Aaron stood in shock, thinking back to what had actually happened.

In the moment his friend needed him the most, he wasn't able to act. Only when he saw John fall unconscious, did he call for help but was incapable of helping. He could merely stand by and watch as the doctors did the job, which he was supposed to do. His mind was blank, the thought of possibly loosing his friend, of carrying the responsibility. He simply couldn't bear it.

He explained what had happened, holding his head in his hands, crying. Feeling disappointed in himself, with his shoulders heavy of guilt.

Despite this, John just looked at him and smiled.

"Lift your head, you shouldn't cry. Even if you weren't the one to fix me up, you made sure to support me and feel responsible. You even called the medics and brought the police for backup... without your support I would most certainly have died, because I am an idiot," he said with a hoarse voice. "So thank you a lot."

Aaron's tears dried up as he listened to his friend, calming his irritated mind.

"Even though you may say that, I am sick of letting you be the only one who puts his life at risk..."

With a sigh John began to speak loudly.

"Anyway... I am starving! I want to eat! Let's go eat, I feel like I haven't eaten in days!"

He tried to lift himself out of his bed but his still weak body crumbled under the sudden movement. Surprised, Aaron swiftly caught him and sat him back onto the bed.

"Huh? Why can I not stand up?"

"You have been out for two entire days, your body is simply not fit enough yet. Remember you almost lost enough blood to die there... plus you cracked your right leg in that fight."

"What, two days? So that's why I feel so hungry. Wait, you said I cracked my leg too? That would explain why I had difficulties standing."

He began to remember what happened and also how he fought the young boy including him talking about his past. He blinked at Aaron and away, several times, almost unsure if he should say something.

"I guess I owe you an explanation right?"

Aaron knew what he meant, but stayed silent as he looked back at the fight since he knew it wasn't a topic to talk about.

"You don't have to, I can understand it."

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"No!"

The attempt to shout made John cough and it echoed through the white room, located in a small hospital. Meanwhile Aaron lifted his eyebrows, not having expected to be yelled at.

"I have to explain it, otherwise it would not be fair... I know you this long and yet I always kept it a secret."

Sliding down under his blanket, he wrapped himself in, facing the wall, opposite to Aaron.

"John you---"

"No! Shush! Just sit down and listen, this is my decision. Just so you know I wont explain it again, so you better listen!"

Leaning back into his chair, Aaron crossed his arms and sharpened his ears as he gave a short reply. "Go ahead then."

"Alright, well, let's see... where to begin...

I never knew my parents, I lived at an orphanage for most of my life.

At the orphanage there was only one person, one man, who took care of us. He was like a father to us, and also a member of the church, hence why everyone referred to him as Father. He told us bedtime stories, or rather crime stories from his old days. When he was young, he was known as detective Sterling... you can imagine why people are still being confused over my age.

All of us had inherited the name when we joined the orphanage, and we were all treated the same. Nobody got special treatment, neither for the better nor the worse.

That is why I had difficulties understanding the kid, since all I knew about it was from the stories I'd heard and I somehow felt like I had to help."

"So that is why you chose not to fight him."

"Yes, I wanted to try and understand him and make him realize his mistake.

I will skip several uninteresting years of my childhood, to the day where everything changed in my life. A few years ago, when I was about 14, the military came to us. They had the order to take the father with him but he insisted that he stays, since he couldn't leave us alone like that. However, they had other ideas..."

Aaron's right brow lifted, wondering what he meant, whilst John was also looking around the room to check that they were alone and continued speaking silently.

"They threatened him to come, not as the father of the orphanage but as detective Sterling. 'You have been summoned for an important mission', they said as they aimed at him with steam hoses. Which are tubes, releasing hot steam. Which is almost like being drenched in water by fire hoses, but believe me if I say that it hurts a lot more.

Continuing on, I as my 14 year old self stood in front of father to protect him. Although I realise now that it was a silly attempt."

John curled up and took a long breath before continuing, holding his back, where the scar was.

"T-They released the steam and wanted to kill me, since I was in their way. I ducked but when I noticed that I didn't feel any major pain, even though I could clearly hear the whistling of the steam, I looked up. He, Father protected me..., shielded me and saved my life. However some of the steam still made it through and got to me."

"So that's when you got your scars..."

"Indeed, they remind me of that day, the day my naive thought lead to someone, who cared about me, suffering. It is a memory I will never forget, and one that I will always be reminded of whenever I see it.

Eventually they stopped to see if we were still alive and surprisingly we actually were, although badly injured. As father stood up he pulled a hidden knife from his pocket and tried to fight back, but a sniper from further behind," John went silent and mumbled. "He shot him... he shot him in the head. It was over, he was just gone, within a moment. I couldn't even blink."

Tears ran down his face and his nose clogged up but a few tissues suddenly started slowly falling down in front of him, which Aaron kindly threw. Quickly moving his eyes to check if Aaron was looking, he cleaned his nose and eyes, noticing that he was indeed looking away.

"Since then, the orphanage went bankrupt and we had to survive on the streets. Famine was our enemy, and in the end only a few of us were able to hold out. But just when I thought I could rot away, a man picked me up and brought me to his home. He was a steamworks engineer and taught me all about it. I guess after noticing how similar the boy was to me, I wanted to help him even more.

As mentioned in the fight, I wanted to use my sword to take revenge, but instead chose to rather do something that would honour our father. At the age of 17 I became a detective, I overcame many hardships and fought my way past all the adults who had better education and physical strength. However my wits and blade helped me forge a way forward. And even thought I still can't believe I passed the written exams, and beat my graduation opponent, I eventually obtained the sterling silver badge, the same as the one that he used to show us.

"I remember the day you passed the final exam," Aaron laughed. " You were sent straight to me since you were badly injured by your opponent and I as a military medic had to fix you up."

"I know! It was also the day I asked you come with me!"

"Oh yes, I remember how blunt you were.

'You are pretty good at this, why not come with me and help?'

I couldn't refuse such a silly question, after all how could I let the youngest detective of this state walk alone, especially after you nearly lost your arm in an exam fight."

They continued talking and laughing, and soon sad tears of the past, became tears of joy for the present. In a few days John would be able to be released from the hospital and be able to continue his quest.