FicWad

His window was open, a soft breeze coming through, the twittering of birds reaching his ears along with the soft, distant noise of the highway. Sheik did not like having the window open. Exposure to the world meant noise, too much noise. He did not want it. He never wanted it. Freedom was appealing, but the things that came with it? He did not want to go out there again if it meant all that. It . . . it scared him.

A soft click, and Sheik's head turned to the door. It opened slowly, as if not to startle him, and in came Link. He was surprised at the lack of sister; usually Zelda was the one to show without warning, and Link had never come alone before. The man offered a small wave before coming to sit by Sheik's bed.

"It's mostly settled," Link said quietly, resting one of his ankles on the opposite knee and leaning back in the chair. "We're getting you out of here soon."

Sheik inclined his head in understanding. When he had realized Link would not leave when he simply refused to acknowledge him, he had finally relented and started to participate in conversation, even if it was nonverbal. He would not lie and say he had not grown a little attached in the process. Link was a fast learner as to Sheik's boundaries and had not made him uncomfortable since their first meeting. It was rare - unheard of, really - to find someone like that. People never really cared about the patients in the ward.

"There were some complications," Link continued. Sheik cocked his head at that, and Link waved his hands dismissively. "They're not a big deal. We're getting you out."

"Tell me."

Sheik stared expectantly at the detective. Link opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again after a moment, shaken by the suddenness of him speaking. On the rare occasion that Sheik actually said something, it seemed Link could not deny him. "The nurses don't think you'll adjust well. They were reluctant to release you, and I had to bring in higher authority. You're crucial to the case, so they had to release you."

They were right, Sheik wanted to say, glancing briefly over to the window. If so little noise was such a nuisance to him, how was he going to handle the real world? They were taking him out of captivity so suddenly, without any warning. There was no time for an adjustment period, no therapy sessions. Going outside for the first time in a decade was not going to be kind to him.

"What else?" Sheik asked, and Link looked away, staring out the window. It was a stunning view of the brick wall next door. Anxiety rose at Link's hesitance.

"It was a fight with your parents." Sheik's blood ran cold at the mention, and subconsciously he closed his hands into fists, grasping his sheets tightly. "They claimed control over your well being. It was hard, since you're technically still a minor, and they're legally in charge of what happens to you. It took a court order to transfer you to my care."

His parents. He had not seen them once since his admission. The last he saw of them, they were signing the paperwork to throw him in. It's for your own good - your sister's good. They just wanted to get rid of the little murderer tarnishing their reputation. They didn't give two shits about him, and certainly not about Zelda.

"I'm sorry if that's hard for you," Link said in a hushed tone, looking down at his lap. He looked like a scolded puppy. Sheik wanted to reach out and lift his chin up, but refrained from doing so.

"Thank you," he heard himself saying, and he wanted to be embarrassed at the lack of control, but he was thankful. He was some semblance of happy, knowing he would not be attached to them anymore. Knowing Link had pulled him away from them was . . . liberating. Exciting? It had been so long since he felt such fluttering in his chest that he could not identify it.

"Thank you . . . ?" Link repeated dumbly, looking up from his entwined fingers to stare at Sheik. Sheik only nodded.

"Thank you."

"I . . . no problem."

Were Link's cheeks a little pink? He cleared his throat and scratched at his neck, quiet for a moment. Sheik wondered what exactly had flustered him so.

"There's also the big guy," Link continued, sobering a little. "Ganondorf." Sheik tilted his head in silent question, and Link shook his own. "Your parents . . . I wonder if they would have even bothered to stop us if he hadn't raised such a fuss. He came into the station while I was negotiating and tried to butt in."

"Why?"

"I can only really guess. He wanted you to stay here, but why? I don't know yet." He let out a weary sigh. "Ganondorf . . . I don't know if he knows who I am. He knows I'm onto him, though. How much he knows that I know is still a mystery. Though if he's trying to prevent me from taking you out of this place, well - he's onto me, too."

"But why does he want me here?" Sheik's throat was starting to complain. It was strange, talking this much, but he wanted answers. He wanted no part of any of this, really; freedom was not worth the price of this mad game of cat and mouse he was getting into, but if he was forced to deal with it, he wanted to know everything.

Link looked at a loss, and Sheik knew he did not have an answer. "I don't know. If he knew you had a goddess, would he really lock you here where he couldn't get to you? Does he know Nayru is attached to you both? Does he think it's just Zelda and want to keep you out of the way?"

Link sighed, dry washing his face, and Sheik had the decency to give him privacy with his distress, turning to stare once more at the dirty brick outside. The birds were annoying, harsh, their chirps much too sharp and grating on his ears.

"Sorry. I don't really know anything. I'll bother Farore some more about it later."

Link's voice was much nicer than the birds' screeching. He was quiet, gentle, but he was not like the nurses that spoke to Sheik like a child. He included Sheik. That was such a rarity that Sheik no longer knew how to properly partake in conversation, and had to reteach himself in a hurry. Link was patient with him even then. When Sheik did not know what to say, Link spoke enough for the both of them, and for once, the patient did not mind the noise.

"Can you tell me more about them?" Link just looked so concerned and troubled, and Sheik was curious to know more, anyways. If he was getting into this mess, he may as well learn everything there was to know.

Link straightened up slightly, meeting Sheik's eyes, eyebrows raised in surprise. They lowered once more, and, from seemingly nowhere, out came the tattered old notebook. Did he carry that everywhere?

"Are you sure?" Link asked, though it did not seem to matter what Sheik answered as the detective flipped open the cover. "I won't make you listen if you're not interested, but - "

"I am," Sheik interrupted before he could start rambling. There was a flash of a small, almost shy smile, and Link looked back down at his notebook.

"What do you want to know?"

"Start at the beginning."

His throat was getting quite sore at this point, so he was glad when Link shifted in his chair to get comfortable and began to speak. Sensing a long talk, he repositioned as well, crossing his legs under the sheets and clasping his hands in his lap.

"There's a beginning to everything, yeah? Well, the beginning for us was . . . them."

There were practically stars in his eyes. Sheik wondered how anyone could be so entranced by a fairy tale at his age, but supposed there was an exception when said stories literally came to life.

"Have you ever wondered if there's more than us out there?" Sheik could not tell if the question was rhetorical. Thankfully, Link continued to speak. He was looking beyond Sheik, beyond the white walls, somewhere far away. "Not just our planet, our solar system, our galaxy, even the universe, but other worlds, other realities? Places that could be just like ours, or ones where our impossibilities are possible?"

He was smiling so big, so excited that Sheik wanted to say yes. Instead, hesitantly, he shook his head. Link deflated a little and his smile shrunk into something akin to embarrassed. Sheik regretted the motion.

"Oh. Well . . . maybe just me. But what if I told you places like that existed?" The gusto was back, words spoken with fervor. "Maybe not like that - I don't really understand much about them. But we weren't the first world the Goddesses created, and I'm sure we weren't the last."

Multiple worlds? It was difficult not to believe in the beings themselves, having been harboring one (half of one?) himself, but how could such lore die? Sheik was not so certain of the validity of the story. Still, he allowed Link to continue without comment.

"I don't really what compelled them to make more. Farore has tried to explain it, but I don't really get it. I guess deities just see things differently."

He paused, then made a face. Sheik was taken aback a second, and then, with a small jolt, wondered if Farore had spoken up. He remembered the way that ethereal voice echoed in his mind all those years ago and shivered.

"Din created the land, Farore the life, and Nayru the laws that life would adhere to. They stayed a short time, lending the new life their abilities, aiding them in adjustment and seeing to it that all their needs were met. After deciding their new world would function well without them, they left to return to . . . well . . . wherever it is they go when they're not here. Their own world? The heavens? I haven't gotten that out of them yet."

Link went quiet, and Sheik took the opportunity to prompt him further.

"What about us? About . . . this? Possession thing?"

Link wrinkled his nose. "Don't call it that," he said. Sheik had a strong feeling that Farore was backing him on that one. "They inhabit our bodies, but they don't take over. They're like roommates."

"Okay," Sheik said slowly. "Why?"

"I was getting there."

Sheik refrained from letting out a disgruntled noise; Link spoke as if he had not completely stopped his story before. Instead, he leaned back against the headboard and gestured for the other to continue the tale. Link obliged far too happily.

"After the Goddesses left, they found that their creations struggled. Among Nayru's laws were basics about how our world functions - things like physics. There was nothing on how to govern themselves or function as a society, and they struggled to elect leaders that were not their creators. After much pleading from their children, the Goddesses allowed a compromise.

"Each chose a child to bond with - Din picked natural born leaders, the noble and powerful. Nayru was drawn to the strongest of minds, those whose intelligence and wit could place them far above any physical prowess. Farore sought out those with pure hearts and unwavering determination, who would lay down their life to protect others.

"They taught these individuals all they knew, and they ruled together as peacefully as they knew how. If ever there was trouble, they had only to call upon their mothers, and they could tap into power like nothing their kind could ever recreate. Their powers were all different in brand, but as a whole they are known as the Triforce. Those lost creations found guidance this way, and for ages they thrived with the Goddesses' blessing.

"Generations came and went, eons passed, and without fail, the Goddesses continued to pick their chosen ones. Yet as time passed and life evolved into what we know as humanity, the need for them faded. With the need, the lore slowly disappeared into the background, a fairy tale to children, and then it vanished altogether."

Sheik had remained in silence the entire time, simply letting Link speak and attempting to envision the things he spoke of. The struggle to do so elicited the realization that his imagination was getting a little rusty.

"Why are they still doing it?" he piped up finally, and Link's smile shifted into something solemn, the corners of his mouth dragging a little.

"Just in case we need them again. Like we do now."

Sheik would not have to imagine for long. Soon, he would be a free man.

Man. He scoffed internally at the thought. Sheik was no man. He was a child, sheltered and stowed away in a little bubble, hidden from the horrors of society. For all he knew, the outside world was a wasteland. Where was he going? What awaited him outside the hospital doors? A place where unseen beings possessed people and a big scary man was out to get him and his sister and probably murder them?

The sweet sort of calm that had blanketed the room during Link's visit was not enough to stifle the panic that the thought of Ganondorf brought. Sheik grasped fistfuls of the sheets, trying hard not to let the feeling rise too high in his chest. Too high, and it would hit his throat, escape his mouth as a betraying noise.

"Why are you reopening the case?"

Link's eyes widened the smallest bit.

"I'm sorry?"

"Why?" Sheik repeated, a little louder this time, and it was both satisfying and terrifying to see Link flinch at the force of it. He ignored his throat's protesting. "I'm safe here, and Ganondorf hasn't gotten to you or Zelda in the past ten years."

His voice was starting to rasp. He should really stop talking.

Taken aback, Link ran a nervous thumb over the cover of his notebook, and it took him so long to respond that Sheik became sure he was not going to. When he did, his voice was quiet, sad. Sheik regretted raising his voice at the man.

"It's bigger than you or me, Sheik," he said. "So much bigger."

Of course it was. Goddesses that created the entire damn universe, magic and mysteries from years past, and a man who wanted to slit Sheik's throat and claim everything for himself. Who knew what Ganondorf would do with that kind of power? Sheik did not want to know.

"I don't want to do this," he whispered, and he did not know whether his voice shook from exertion or fear. He jumped when a hand that was not his own came into view, hesitating before resting against his wrist. Sheik hesitated before finally his eyes moved along the sun-kissed forearm, the bicep, shoulder, neck, face. Eyes. Soft and caring and . . .

"I won't let anything happen to you."

It was Link's voice, gentle yet firm as always, just the way Sheik remembered. And yet it was not Link - it was not something he heard, but something he felt, something both deep in his heart and mind, warm, echoing, and oh so brief. A voice, a presence that felt like forests and a warm spring breeze and a gentle lullaby.

Ruby eyes Sheik did not know he closed shot open, and an instant glance at Link saw a calm, determined expression so starkly different from his own shock and confusion that it was extra disorienting.

"Who . . . what?" he managed. Link ran a soothing thumb over Sheik's wrist, and Sheik let him without fuss.

"Farore," the detective answered.

A shiver, but warm. Familiarity. Something deep in his heart, his gut? Stirring.

"I trust you," Sheik said.

Whether he spoke of Link or Farore, he did not know and did not care.