“Aksel, you did a great job today. You can go home now,” Dáinn said in a low voice, grumbling at the amount of paperwork in front of him. 

Aksel watched his vacant eyes stare at the blank documents on his desk. Aksel sighed. He knew Dáinn was his boss, and he had no right to pry into his life. But he had watched Dáinn grow from a joy-filled child to an adult. An adult so cold and closed off, he watched a warm heart grow full of ice. This job made you that kind of person; this job that Dáinn was forced to take required this kind of attitude. Dáinn ’s only option was to mature early. To see such blood and violence when he had just entered high school. To be pulled into crimes before he even turned eighteen. Even before all that, he saw violence as a child. 

He knew very well that when Dáinn walked into the office every morning, he couldn't focus. Days when the dark circles under his eyes were more noticeable than the day before. He knew Dáinn experienced that day again in his dreams, dreams so dark they couldn’t be called dreams but nightmares. Being a father to two daughters, he saw more than he was supposed to, more than Dáinn ever meant to show. Aksel could see what he had hidden away for others not to see. Aksel would never wish for his daughters to experience the death of their mother the same way Dáinn had to. He was there when it happened, but was too ignorant to do anything. 

He only followed the orders Dáinn’s father gave him. He was a new member who would be killed if he disobeyed the rules. There was nothing he could do. Sometimes, he could hear Dáinn's screams in his own dreams. Dáinn was only six; he didn’t deserve it, but there was no stopping his father from not caring if his son lost his mother or if he lost his wife. Aksel wouldn’t ever wish for any innocent child to watch their only parental figure die before them. He couldn’t even imagine seeing his daughters watch their mother get shot in front of them, and him just watching blankly without care. 

He watched Dáinn scribble a few words onto the document before flipping to the next. Without raising his head, he spoke to Aksel in a stern voice. “I have a new right-hand lined up. You can turn in your resignation if you want.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “I’ll give you enough money as retirement pay.”  

Aksel flinched; it sounded more like a demand than a suggestion. He stared down at Dáinn, his messy brunette hair shadowing his face. Aksel almost missed it. 

In a barely audible voice, he mumbled. “At least then your family wouldn’t be in danger.” 

Aksel only just caught the emotion flash across his face. Just as fast as it came, it disappeared. 

“I will. Go home and get some rest; you need it,” Aksel spoke softly, a voice filled with emotion. 

Dáinn looked up to him in response. His brows rose in a questioning look. Aksel's heart ached; he had seen him as a son over the years of caring for Dáinn. To him, Dáinn was just a lost child who needed someone to show him the way through the ice, to wake him up from his nightmares.