Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You know, for a guy who sees everything, Izaya can be really blind sometimes. Seriously, how does he not know? Did this honestly catch him by surprise? When I stopped actually trying to kill him it should have been obvious. Everyone else noticed, even people I didn't know. I was practically kind to him. Why then did he do everything in his power to piss me off? Why did he want me to fight him?

Why am I lying in this alley, bleeding out, while he prods me with his toe? I wish he’d fucking stop, it hurts. Guess Izaya really hates me if he’d kill someone who refused to lift a finger to fight back. Maybe I deserve this though after all the shit I’ve done to him. Hell, dying alone with only my biggest rival and my worst mistake is probably poetic or some shit and god knows Izaya's always been one for poetry. He probably thinks this is funny.

This whole thing would have been easier if I’d never stopped hating him. Maybe I could have actually fought back then, stopped him from going half mad and trying to kill me. Succeeding in killing me if I've got anything to say about it. But fate can be fucking hilarious like that. Nothing would have ever changed, except somehow, I managed to catch the flea at the very moment he was weakest and I realized he’s only human. Probably it's weak of me, but I couldn’t hate him after that.

It's funny, I thought Izaya said he was a god, but I guess he was wrong. If he could be wrong about that then it made sense he could be wrong about other things. About how we could only ever hate each other, how he was eventually going to kill me and about my destiny to become a monster. That meant something, it was something I could hold onto when it felt like there was nothing else to keep me grounded. I could still chase him but I never again tried to kill him. Not really. I'd pretend, sure, but only because it was easier than admitting how much things had changed.

Only a matter of time, I guess, till it was more than just a question of not hating him and instead of loving him.

Ow, shit! God, what does he expect is gonna happen if he keeps kicking me? It’s not as if I’m going to get up again. Exhausted, I think,  Dammit flea, I’m done! Can’t you see that?

Fuck, everything hurts. Just how many times did he stab me?  Too many. The moment I lost count was too many.

One was too many but I'll put up with it. I seem to put up with a lot of Izaya's shit. Whatever, I still can’t bring myself to hate him back. Of all the ways to go, looking up at the face of the person you love, even if they hate you, is an okay one I guess. Ha, always knew I’d die looking at him, I just didn’t expect it to be like this. I kind of expected it to be a little more flashy and a little less back alley, surrounded by stinking trash and my own blood.

Now he's frowning at me like I've done something wrong. Why is he looking at me with that face? Stop it, please. Heh, at least he’s stopped laughing at me, that shit was really pissing me off. This is sorta better than that. Less sharp and pointed, more like a light touch than a hot knife.

“Get up Shizu-chan.”

Great, now he’s trying to talk to me. How funny, he really must think I’m a dumb beast now, unable to answer him. Weakly, I shake my head. It takes more out of me than I expect it to.

He’s probably going to launch into one of those clichéd monologs like they do in every fucking movie ever made. The only difference is that he’s smart enough to do it while I’m already dead. He'll watch me bleed out as he contemplates my pathetic existence and laments how I wasn't a good enough opponent in the end. I can already see the fake tear he'll wipe away mockingly at my lonely demise. My only complaint is that he’ll be smirking while he does it. I hate that smirk because he always wears it while explaining shit to me in such a way that makes me feel like I’m a fucking idiot.

Now that I think about it, he isn’t actually grinning right now. He kinda looks annoyed at me, to be honest. Almost like he's frustrated with a dying man. Wouldn't put it past him... “I told you to get up you stupid protozoan.” Izaya practically hisses at me, jabbing me viciously with his foot.

Like telling me again is going to change anything. I can’t move idiot. Probably I should try to manage a few words at least, maybe convince him to stop kicking me. That would be a nice change, you know. Kindness instead of Izaya's usual brand of casual cruelty. Cracking a smile, I grunt out, “Can’t, ‘m dead.” For some reason, after all this time spent trying to kill me, those words upset Izaya. The little lines that form between his eyes are a dead giveaway. It’s kinda cute actually…

“No you aren’t,” he insists.

He’s pretty fucking stubborn, I'll give him that. Of course I’m fucking dying. Can’t he see the blood pooling around my body? Has he been struck with sudden blindness? Is he honestly in denial over the death of one of his worst enemies? He looks alarmed, surprised like he didn't expect upwards of fifty stab wounds to leave a dent in me. Something about the desperation in his crimson eyes makes me want to laugh.

So I do. The laugh splits from me, bringing up blood.

“Stop it. Stop laughing!” He’s acting borderline frantic and it isn’t helping matters. It only makes me laugh harder.

“This isn’t funny, " he spits.

But it is. I get now why he always laughs at inappropriate times like this. It’s seriously funny when the person hurting you suddenly stops to tell you not to die. I don't know much about irony, but that shit's seriously ironic. Ah well, laughing is pure agony right now so I’ll probably just stop anyway.

As the raven finally stops kicking me, I fall silent. Slowly, the world spins back into place for a moment and I can see the sky through the close apartments. It's deep blue, almost black. Calming where the situation is technically anything but. This is better, much better. When it’s silent I can almost pretend Izaya doesn’t hate me. Although I'm betting that convincing myself of that is a lost cause. Knowing Izaya, he won't let me forget just how much he despises me as I'm lulled into my grave by peaceful air and lack of blood.

“You stupid brute, I didn’t stab you that hard.” Izaya sounds fucking terrified. His lip is caught between his teeth and his eyes are wide and overly bright. The only time I’ve seen him this scared is the day I stopped hating him, the day he was running from something so terrible, he couldn’t even laugh. The absolute fear in his eyes then was so human it hurt. Almost like all his masks were finally gone and I was actually looking at Izaya.

But now he looks afraid and I can’t figure out why. There isn't enough blood going to my brain to guess. He hates me, fucking despises the very ground I walk on, why should he care that I’m dying? Blinking slowly, I watch as Izaya kneels down next to me, eyes flicking over my bleeding body, assessing the damage. Even Izaya has to know he can't do anything. It's a dim thought, but it's there. Whatever this business of looking over my wounds is, he has to know it's useless. He’s shaking as he presses two fingers against my neck, probably checking my pulse. At any other time, I’d be confused but right now, my mind’s too fuzzy to contemplate the implications of what’s happening.

“You aren’t dying," he repeats under his breath, fear still spiking in his eyes. “Stop bleeding out Shizu-chan.” Since when has he been able to order me to do anything?

Even though it hurts like hell, I laugh again, hating the blood that comes up as I do so. Strangely enough, Izaya doesn't seem to care when it splatters on the edges of his coat. Why does the flea think he can stop me from dying just by telling me not to? I know he says he's god but I've never seen him try to play god before. I’m not complaining though. I prefer this treatment to him trying to kill me, whether I know the cause of this change of heart or not. The warmth from his fingers manages to permeate the cold numbness of death. Honestly, it's comforting.

“You can’t die, we haven’t finished our game.” Izaya grinds out, hands twitching like he can’t decide what to do. Almost like he wants to help but doesn't quite know how. So that’s why he’s upset. It makes more sense now because clearly, the man who hates me would never care about what happens to me. It was stupid to think otherwise. Not that I did, I like to pride myself in not being a hopeless romantic in any sense of the word.

I almost wish I was, but... I'm too grounded in reality. Even with Izaya leaning over me like this, almost like he's in prayer, I'm not stupid. 

“Finished,” I mumble, forcing the word past lips that won’t work right. “You win.” There’s too much emotion in the carmine orbs that stare into mine. As the words dissipate in the air between us, I see his mind scrambling for some way out of this situation. Like it's even a bad one for him. The flea should be happy he’s won; maybe disappointed because I didn’t prove more of a challenge but there shouldn’t be that much fucking terror in those eyes. Fear doesn't suit him, it makes him look too much like the rest of us. Low and painfully human.

“You idiot,” he hisses, trying to staunch the flow of blood from my chest with his slim fingers. It's not doing shit. I feel like I should point this out to him, but I don't, because I like that pressure on my chest, a last ditch attempt to hold me together. “Why didn’t you fight back?” Why does he care? Shouldn’t he be glad I didn’t fight him? If I had, I might have hurt him. Surely, he wouldn't have wanted that.

As more of my life ebbs away, internal and external wounds killing me faster than I would have thought possible, I wonder if I should tell Izaya why. It's a supremely stupid thought. He’ll probably vanish the moment the words leave my mouth, disgusted that I hold any emotions for him but hatred. He's so simple minded sometimes, so black and white, if it hits him wrong, he'll bolt. I know Izaya like the back of my hand and if there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s to die alone. I’d prefer it if the flea stays with me, right up until when I finally go. Almost like a deathbed, except less comfortable and more abrupt.

“Shizu-chan,” Is he… pleading? Why the hell is he looking at me like that? “Why didn’t you stop me?” Izaya’s eyes are overly bright, reminding me of some kind of jewel or something. I'm not even sure where the comparison comes from, I'm just thinking crazy right now. Taking off his precious coat, he holds it against my worst injuries, panic in his movements. I can’t even begin to understand why he would do something like that. “Answer me you dumb brute,” he orders sharply.

I guess I don’t have anything left to lose, I decide, closing my eyes so I don’t have to look at that pained expression anymore. The only thing I have left to lose is him, and believe me, I'd already lost that from the moment I met him. Shit, this isn’t going to go over well. He’s going to hate me, more than he already does I mean. If that’s even possible. I don’t know why he’s trying to save me now but I know he’s going to stop once I open my mouth.

Maybe that’s for the best though. I don't deserve his kindness.

“Promise you won’t leave.” I manage, the strain evident in my tone. It's such a foolish demand, I feel stupid just voicing it. I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the harsh laugh I’m expecting.

“Stupid beast, just answer the question!” Izaya snapped, fear overflowing from him like water from a busted dam. “Stop acting childish Shizu-chan, you aren’t dying.”

Slowly, I part my lips and whisper, “Cause,” My wet coughing cuts me off for a moment. “Cause I love you- shitty flea…” There's silence, heart-stopping silence. Hesitantly I open my eyes, needing to at least see his reaction.

The surprise my admission has brought is evident, so too is the sharp shudder that passes through Izaya and into me. He remains frozen for a moment, just staring at me with wide eyes. I can't tell what he's thinking, whether condemning or otherwise. The silence is frustrating, the look on his face even more so. Then I cough and he snaps back into reality. Suddenly leaping into motion, the raven above me shuffles through the pockets of his blood stained coat before pulling out a cellphone. “Don’t you dare die on me Shizuo,” he whispers, applying more pressure to my wounds, less reckless and more methodical in his movements. “I won’t let you.” Funny, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use my real name...

Unsure as to why he’s still there, I let my eyelids droop shut once more, relaxing slightly. I’ve said my piece and now I can die without regrets which is more than I ever hoped for. It’s too late for me, I know it is but I’ll let Izaya do and say what he wants because at least he isn’t leaving me here alone. Maybe it'll make him feel better when he's reading my obituary in the paper, knowing that he at least tried to help. The long and the short of it is, for some reason he’s staying, and that honestly is all I can really think about what with the blood draining from me and onto the stone below us.

“Open your eyes,” The flea barks, “Don’t go to sleep.”

Let me die in peace, I think wearily as drag my eyes open and look up at him. I’m shocked to see him wiping away the tears that are gathering in the corners of his eyes. Noticing my expression, Izaya instantly turns away, flipping his phone open with one hand and clicking through his contacts at a speed I can hardly believe while still pressing at his coat, ever adamant in his attempts to slow the bleeding.

Turning back to me, he narrows his wet eyes and glances down at the screen briefly before looking up, watching my face intently as he lifts the earpiece to his head and waits for the person on the other end to pick up. Dimly, I wonder who he’s calling before blood loss whisks the thought away. Dammit, nothing’s sticking anymore. I can't even keep my head together. My vision’s getting blurrier and my breaths, shallower. I’m not going to last much longer, no matter what the flea says.

“Shinra, I need your help right now.” Izaya snaps into the phone. I know now he’s definitely trying to save me but in this state, I can’t even begin to understand why. Watching me with what I now assume is fear, even if I can no longer see it through the darkness clouding my eyes, he quickly rattles off the street we’re on and which alley I happen to be dying in. “Send Celty please.”

He waits for a moment longer before grinding out, “Does it matter what’s wrong Shirna, you’ll find out soon enough. I don’t have the patience to explain myself right now.” Another moment of silence. “No I am not crying nor am I scared. Please shut up and do something useful for once.” Clicking his tongue he hangs up and bites his lip, staring at me. “Just a few minutes longer," he mumbles, though whether to me or himself I can’t be sure. "Just a few more minutes, I promise, someone's coming for you."

Unable to keep them open any longer, my eyes start to close. Unexpectedly, Izaya grabs my hand and growls, “Don’t you dare do this to me.” As he speaks he shakes my arm, sending pain through the slashes that litter it from his knives. “Don’t die, please.”

It’s the last thing I hear before I’m finally granted the peace of unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Izaya

Shinra’s been in that operating room for far too long. Has it been an hour? Has it been two? It shouldn’t take that long to stitch someone up, something’s gone wrong, hasn’t it? It’s not exactly my most flawless reasoning, in fact, it’s shoddy, worst-case scenario, fatalism and that’s being kind. Under any normal circumstances I would have condemned myself for such infantile logic but in this moment, I can’t rid myself of it.

The fear eating me away won’t let the thoughts go.

Part of me, the rational and methodical piece, wants to go see what’s going on, just take a gander of the situation to put my fears to rest. It’s the sensible thing to do, but I’m not thinking sensibly right now. The possibilities of what I might find in that operating room keep me confined out here in Shinra’s makeshift waiting room/living room, trapped in my own head.

It stupid, how I’m reacting to what happened. Human, weak, pathetic, they’re all good words to describe the churning in my stomach every time I glance up at the door. It’s just Shizu-chan! But I’m not sure I can face Shizuo after what just happened.

I’m not sure I can ever face Shizuo again.

I should have let him die…

I bite my nails nervously, gnawing on them with surprising vigor until they're nothing but quick and blood oozing from ivory tips. Even then I keep chewing, stripping off skin till they look raw and painful. Then I start on my bottom lip, sucking it in so I can nibble on it pathetically. I’m sure I look quite the picture, huddled up in one of Shinra’s armchairs, my face flipping between my usual mask and a frightened muddle. Just the very image of contempt.

And it’s all because of that.

It’s all because of him.

Was it wrong for me to be scared when he stopped getting riled up whenever I made my presence known? Was it wrong for me to do everything I knew how to do to get his attention? Was it wrong for me to fight him in the hopes that he wouldn’t just… Forget me?

Because he’d just stopped suddenly, one moment we were rivals, the next he’d lost interest in our fights. I never stopped trying to wind him up but he’d just light another cigarette and ignore me. All I knew how to do was fight him, so that’s what I did. Every time we clashed I kept escalating things, upping the stakes, trying to get him to react but all I got from Shizuo was that dreaded apathy.

Last night, well, I guess I snapped.

And now Shizuo’s almost dead and it’s my fault. Try as I might to pin the blame elsewhere, I know where the score stands, I’m not stupid. Shizuo just stood there and took it as I drove him to the brink of death. I should be elated, overjoyed that the dreadful monster is dead, or mostly so, but I’m not. I’m scared, alone and cold. None of those emotions are things a god should ever have.

It doesn’t make sense, why can’t things just go back to the way they were? Why did it have to change? Why did he change without me?

I curl inward further and rest my head on my knees, feeling miserable and terrified and all these things I shouldn’t be allowed to feel because I’m not a human, I’m above this. Alas, it’s a losing battle and I know it full well. There are only so many lies you can tell yourself before you’re forced to face the truth.

The rushing in my ears almost drowns out the faint beeping of the heart monitor, but not quite. Not quite enough. Its persistently shrill tones remind me of who’s in that room and whose hands his blood is on. Guilt crawls up my throat as I picture Shizuo’s blood-touched smile. His fading eyes as he whispers those damning and fragile words that change everything.

‘It’s cause I love you, shitty flea.’

A choked laugh escapes my throat unexpectedly and I squeeze my eyes tight against the pressure behind them. For all my knowledge and excellence and ability to read people, I never saw that one coming. It had felt like a slap in the face. At the time it had pushed me back into reality but now, it the cold light of Shinra’s house, it hurts.

My mind’s sidestepping the issue but it’s all I can do to keep from flying into a state of outright panic. Despite all this thinking, this obsessing, my brain refuses to comprehend the implications of what Shizuo said. I refuse to even attempt comprehension. Because the thought of understanding all that humanity the stupid brute makes me feel is too scary to contemplate. All my experience tells me that shutting myself down is better, safer.

So that’s what I do. Layer after layer of carefully practiced calm, constructed up around the Faberge egg that I’ve become. Gradually my mind closes itself off. Forget Shizuo, forget the blood, forget the knife in your hand. Forget the sound it made when it clattered to the ground after I realized Shizuo wasn’t getting back up again. Forget the way he lay there, lifeless as I kicked him.

Forget the way his eyes shone with warmth when he looked up at me…

Something bumps my arm and I look up to see Celty’s PDA in my face. [Are you alright?]

I try to spread my usual smirk over my face but it falls short, like dragging chilled butter over an equally cold slice of bread. From the dullahan's body language, I can tell she isn’t buying it for a second. If I can’t convince others, why am I even bothering?

After failing at that simple task, I let my chin fall to my knees once more and mutter, “Is he alright?” in a very small voice. The words feel weird, sincerely asking after anyone’s wellbeing, especially Shizuo’s, is a foreign sensation. Nevertheless, I ask, because I have to know.

Celty types quickly, slender fingers flying. [Shinra sounded worried. He says Shizuo’s lost a lot of blood.]

Well, that’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. I can still see the pools of red pouring out over the pavement as the life leaves Shizuo’s eyes. More than that though, I can see the small smile on his face as his eyes close and still feel my stomach drop as I think for one horrible second that he’s dead and I’d lost him forever.

Maybe I have anyway.

“But he’s going to live, r-right?” I pester, eyebrows drawing together and knitting in the center of my forehead. “B-because I didn’t want to kill him. I d-didn’t mean to hurt him th-that bad. I just-” Slowly, my voice dies in my throat as Shinra walks out of the room he’s been keeping Shizuo in and stares at me. I can already see what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth.

“Izaya…” Shinra’s eyes are accusatory but I can hardly blame him, I wish I could look at myself the same way. Pity is useless, anger will at least get me somewhere. “I know you’ve always gotten into fights with Shizuo-san but this,” he gestures behind him and shakes his head, “This is just too far.” Absolute exhaustion is etched into the faint lines of his face, reminding me of a street map of Tokyo. He sounds so… Defeated.

Terrified.

“Shinra…” I mutter, coming off the armchair and striding over to where the crack doctor is trying to massage away a headache while muttering to himself under his breath. “Please say Shizu-chan will be alright.” I hear the words, too much blood, and I don’t have any left leave his mouth. “Tell me he's okay!” I demand, startling him.

“No, he’s not okay! ” Shinra snaps right back. “He’s lost too much blood for his body to keep up and that’s your fault Izaya!” He jabs his finger at me and I instinctively take a step back. My mouth opens to defend myself but there aren’t any excuses left, this is my fault.

Burying his fingers in his dark hair, Shinra turns away, mumbling hurriedly. “He’s O+, I don’t have anything for him. I’ve stitched him up but that isn’t enough. It’s just a matter of time now before he…” Shinra trails off and I watch as his shoulders slump.

Perhaps it’s stupid, but I have to hear the words. Call it a need for closure if you will, but it’s strong enough to make me whisper, “What, Shinra? Before he what?” The words sound dead.

Furious, Shinra snaps about to face me, gray eyes wild. “If you’re going to almost kill your play toy then expect me to fix him then why didn’t you call me earlier?” Panic edges his tone and Celty is there in a flash, calming the frantic doctor while I wallow momentarily in self-pity. Of course Shinra’s right, I was being petty,  I was being cruel. I was being stupid when I thought Shizuo would just get up.

Finished… You win. I swallow back my own fear, hard. “Can I see him?”

“Haven’t you done enough?” Shirna demands, glaring at me. Breath catching, I almost take a step back. I’ve never seen such anger in the doctor’s eyes. It’s almost frightening. “First you kill him, now you’re going to gloat over his corpse? Just how twisted are you?” His words cut, I hadn’t realized how little Shinra really thinks of me. The worst part is, I don’t even disagree with him.

“Please don’t do this to me Shinra?” I beg, biting the inside of my cheek till it bleeds.

“Oh, like I’m doing anything to you,” Shinra spits. “Shizuo-san is dying because of you! You ripped him to shreds and he hardly put a scratch on you that I can see.” Celty is trying to placate him, hands flying over her screen as she attempts to find something to say to get him to stop shouting at me. All I can do is cower, unable to disagree with a thing Shinra is saying. “Did he even try to fight back?”

I stand there, mute because for once, I can’t bring myself to lie. Head dropping, I mutter, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you’re sorry .” The fight leaves him and Shinra snorts derisively. “As long as you promise you aren’t going to just try and finish him off, do what you want.” I don’t have an answer to that pointed look, There aren’t words to respond to Shinra’s damning tone.

Brushing past Shinra, I open the door to the room Shizuo’s in and close it behind me. It’s not enough to shut out the helpless voice of Shinra as he talks to Celty about Shizuo. The floor draws my eyes, I can’t look, I don’t want to know.

But in the end, I can’t stop myself.

For a second, I can do no more than stare at the damage I’ve caused. Shizuo’s skin is ashen and, for want of a less truthful term, bloodless. I can see the stitches in the skin of his arms, I have little doubt there are sutures covering his torso as well. There’s still blood on the bed he’s lying on. Seeing him hurts worse than I had anticipated and I can’t help curling in on myself at the sight.

Part of me wants to run away, part of me needs to stay.

“I told you that you weren't allowed to die,” I whisper, looking fleetingly at the instrument panels he’s hooked up to and hating that I know how to read them. Shinra’s right, he is dying. “You’re a monster,” I murmur weakly. “I thought you were invincible.” Walking towards him, I attempt to hold back the gut wrenching feeling that’s welling up inside me. I can’t understand why the death of my enemy is doing this to me.

“Bleeding out is such a stupid way to go Shizu-chan,” I mutter, biting my already bloody lip. There must be something I can do, some magic solution that’ll make Shizuo open his eyes and explain to me what he meant when he said he loved me, but I can’t think of it. I’m lost. There are too many things going on in my mind for me to produce a miracle.

“I’m surprised he’s held on this long.” Shinra steps in softly and watches silently. He’s calmed down, which is a relief, but that anger has been replaced by blank resignation. He’s staring at me, I can feel it, his eyes are raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I hate his scrutiny, so I say the first thing that pops into my mind in an attempt to deflect his attention. Unfortunately, the words I retort with do nothing to help my cause.

“Maybe you should just scoop his blood up off the pavement. That might help.”

“Maybe you should leave instead of gloating over Shizuo-san!” Shinra’s eyes flicker with anger but he’s drained, there isn’t enough energy left in him to yell. The ire is there though, more than I’ve ever seen from the doctor. Maybe it’s because of my one-too-many pithy comments, maybe it’s because he’s friends with Shizuo.

Maybe it’s because I’ve never had the nerve to bring a corpse to him and ask Shinra to make it better.

“There has to be something you can do,” I plead, my lower lip wobbling unsteadily. God, I feel so close to just breaking apart. “Please Shinra…”

The doctor’s eyes soften minutely as if finally understanding that I’m not here to parade my victory over Shizuo. “If I had enough blood then maybe, maybe he’d have a chance, but I don’t have anything that matches his blood type.” Glancing at Shizuo, he mutters, “It’d be like poisoning him on top of everything else to give him the wrong type.”

To think that this would be the way I lose Shizuo.

He just needs blood…

Suddenly, my eyes widen. The thought hits me so hard I stumble back. Despite his frustration with me, Shinra lurches forward to steady me but I’m already shaking off his hands. O+ Shinra said something about O+... “You said you don’t have enough blood.” I clarify quickly, already reaching for the chair closest to the heart monitor and sitting down, ordering my thoughts as clinically as I can. “He needs blood. What type?”

The doctor looks at me like I’m crazy. “He needs O+ but I don’t currently have-” Finally, Shinra’s mind takes him down the same path I’m already at the end of. “No, you wouldn’t ever- This is Shizuo-san we’re talking about, and let’s be honest, you’re not really cut out for…” He’s shaking his head and giving me wide, shocked eyes but I don’t budge. Nothing he can say will make me move now.

He said it would give Shizuo a chance, that’s the best I can hope for and far more we had just a moment ago.

“Don’t quibble with me Shinra,” I tell him, my eyes lighting up with the spark that had all but died not a moment ago. “We’ve got the same blood type. You can use mine,” I intone, eyes level with Shinra’s frantic ones. “I know I showed up here, expecting the impossible from you but I’m done being stupid. It’s my mess, let me clean it up for once.”

“No, you were being cold before. This is you being stupid.” The doctor keeps staring at me like he can’t believe what’s happening. “I have told you before that you are in no shape to be donating any amount of blood,” Shinra reminds me. “It’s too risky.”

“You don’t have time to be obstinate!” I spit harshly. “I know I’ll probably pass out and be a little weak for a while but that’s fine. As long as he lives…” I let the sentence hang there because I don’t have enough breath to finish it. All the air feels like it’s been sucked out of me, leaving me void. Choking on a gasping lungful of air I whimper, “Please Shinra.”

And just like that, he relents which is all I need. The tension in the air eases somewhat and I lean back on the chair, still looking at Shizuo. As Shinra busies himself with setting the equipment up, I bite my lip to hold back what are probably more tears. Crying once today was bad enough, crying twice would be pathetic and I’m determined to not end up more of a mess than I already am.

Without thinking, my fingers twitch and I’m lifting my hand to brush against Shizuo’s bluish skin. If Shinra sees, he pretends otherwise. I’m grateful for this small concession. My heart is such a muddled mess that trying to sort it out right now is impossible, so instead, I just let myself intertwine my fingers with Shizuo’s, not really caring what Shinra thinks. It’s hardly the most important thing going on at the moment.

The fact that I’m doing something to save the beast has already raised so many flags that something like this will no doubt be lost to the sea of things no one ever expected Izaya to do.

Shinra’s voice filters through my semi-conscious mind and I shake my thoughts away so I can listen properly. “I’d suggest laying down under normal circumstances but I think it’ll be quickest if you just stay here,” he was saying, swabbing the crook of my elbow with disinfectant and pinching the skin. “You’ll probably be out pretty quickly. I know the usual amount of blood a person can donate is one pint but…” he looks at me helplessly. “He’s going to need more than that. I’ll be keeping a close eye on both of you though and if I decide that continuing is unsafe-”

“But you won’t,” I tell him, tone stubborn. “Because if I wake up and find out that you let Shizuo die just because I was looking a  little pale…” The sentence hangs in the air but Shirna gets the message. The needle enters my skin and I gratefully murmur, “Thank you… Shinra.” I watch, mesmerized as blood slowly oozes down the clear plastic tube connected to me. Shinra tapes the apparatus to my arm before stepping back slightly and staring at me.

Mouth creasing with a flash of concern, Shinra asks, “You- When you called me…” He trips over himself, trying to force words that just won’t come from his lips. Almost like he can’t believe them enough to even say them. “Izaya, were you crying when you called?” Shinra saying it so bluntly leaves me no room to continue ignoring it. Closing my eyes against the dizziness I know is coming, I sigh softly.

“Yes.” My voice comes out flat.

“You’re scared, aren’t you.” It’s phrased like a question, but it isn’t one. The crack doctor’s voice sounds more confident now. “It’s okay,” he hurries to add. “I’m not judging you, I’m only wondering…”

He tilts his head. “Why?”

Nibbling my lip and wincing as the already tender flesh protests, I mutter the closest thing to the truth I can. “I don’t know Shinra.”

“Shizuo-san is very strong Izaya,” Shinra reassures me quietly, looking nervously at the instruments that whirr away beside Shizuo. “He’ll probably pull through.” He thinks I don’t hear the muttered, ‘I hope ’ but I do.

Watching viscous red travel from my arm to his, I pray that it’s enough. Maybe even enough to atone for what I did, because the guilt is crushing the life out of me. Slowly depressing my chest till there isn’t enough room to breathe. My mind is reeling and my vision is blurring...

Oh yeah, I’m giving blood.

Looking over at Shinra, I try to mumble the words, ‘I’m passing out ’ but he probably doesn’t hear me and even if he did, he clearly doesn’t understand. Head lolling on my neck, I lean over and press my face into the sheets of the bed Shizuo's in.

The residual smell of cigarettes lulls me into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Izaya

It isn’t raining like it should be. The sky isn’t gray enough to fit this afternoon. There’s too much life for this, I hate it. The only thing not in color are the people, dressed in their black and gray suits and dresses. Against the blue sky and green grass, they look strange. Like ghosts from another era, risen from the graves around us to watch this sober affair.

I stand a short way off from them, unable to bring myself to join the small gathering. Not that they would want me there in the first place, I’m the reason they’re here at all. Standing around the coffin that’s too nice for who’s inside. I can only assume it was Kasuka, his brother, who actually paid for the casket. From where I stand, leaning against a tree, trying to make myself as small as possible, I can see him. He stands at the head of his brother’s coffin, his expression somber.

You can tell he's been crying lately, his eyes are bloodshot. Even from this distance, I can tell he's in pain. Yet even so, it all feels distant somehow. I'm probably disassociating at this point. How am I supposed to understand this, how am I supposed to sympathize when I can't even bring myself to approach the coffin.

Someone is saying something, giving some sort of speech. I’m not listening to the words, I’m just staring at the sleek, black box, lying there under bright flowers. They’d decided to hold the funeral here, outside. Something about it being a nice day, something about how he liked days like this when he was young. I wasn’t really even invited, but I came anyway.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. He was supposed to wake up. The heart monitor wasn't supposed to flatline as Shirna shook me awake and dragged me from the room as I fought to stay there with him. Everything was supposed to turn out okay, like the happy ending he deserved and I desperatly wished for. 

There wasn't supposed to be a white sheet. 

We aren't supposed to be here like this.

This isn't happy. It's only been a week since it happened and I'm already tired of feeling dead. Why do they expect me to survive?

My chest hurts, my head aches, my eyes though, are dry. I don’t belong here, I’m invading a space that isn’t mine to invade. That’s probably the reason they’ve ignored me thus far. Shinra glanced my way once, as did my sisters, who now stand near Celty, their heads bowed demurely. Other than that, I might as well be a spectre myself.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper under my breath, clenching my fingers in my pockets. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” He can't even hear me, who do I think I'm talking to? Have I really lost it at last? Did the stress finally break me?

The speeches have ceased, everyone's just standing there silently, respect for the dead or something stupid like that. Someone's crying, another is shushing them. They don’t even know what it looked like when he died. They have no idea that his last words were I love you , spoken to a man who couldn’t even summon the courage to say anything back. How many of them know I’m the one who killed him? How many more suspect it to be true regardless?

“You weren’t supposed to die,” I mutter, clenching my teeth against the harsh reality I’m facing. “You were supposed to wake up and be fine. Why are you doing this to me? Do you think I find this funny?" Despite the coat I have wrapped around me, I feel cold. Maybe the dead under my feet are coming for me, intent on dragging me to hell where I belong.

“Come on,” I say, walking forward without really thinking about it. “Fun’s over, you can stop being dead now. Even I have never done something that cruel. You can’t just leave me like this, here alone .”

Slowly, I walk towards the people, like a magnet is drawing me forward. "You've always been there, it doesn't matter that we fought, you never left me. You can't just disappear now, not after everything. Please stop pretending like you're just going to leave." I sound crazy, desperate.

As I near the coffin, the small crowd parts for me. I can feel their eyes, I don’t care. I just keep whispering under my breath, begging for this to just be a dream. “Hey, they’re going to bury you soon.” I can see my reflection in the shiny lacquered wood. “They- They keep saying you’re dead but you’re just asleep, right? You’re just going to wake up. I know you, you're too stubborn to give up this easily."

With a choaked laugh, I say, "They think you're dead, but they don't know how much of an idiot you are. You're not smart enough to know how to die. You'll just keep living out of sheer stuiditity." I feel so pathetic, it's disgusting.

On shaking legs, I kneel next to the coffin, biting my lip to hold back the pain eating at my insides. “I mean, I know you’re a monster and you can do almost anything but it’s a lot easier to get out of a coffin when you’re not six feet underground. You might soffocate if you're not careful."   What's wrong with me, why am I acting like this?  "It doesn’t even have to be miraculous, you just have to open your eyes you know. Just say the word and we'll let you out.”

They chose to have a closed casket funeral, which is probably a good thing, especially considering how he looked after I was through with him. Brushing the flowers from the top, I lean on the domed lid and desperately whisper, “You can’t leave me like this Shizu-chan, you’ve got to wake up. I can’t do this without you, it hurts too much.”

The tears glitter as they at last start to fall, blurring my vision. Tiredly, I press my forehead against the coffin. “I’m so cold Shizu-chan, I need you here. Please, don’t be dead. I- I’m not a god, I’m not indestructible. Hell, I’m barely human. Shizu-chan, I can’t survive this, it's going to kill me."

My breathing comes in short painful gasps. "Whoever told you I'd live through you dying was lying to you Shizu-chan. I. Can't. Do this. Don’t make me live through this. Please, just wake up. Please .”

No one says a word as a sob makes its way out of my throat.

“I’m sorry Shizu-chan. Please, I’m sorry…”

My eyes are still damp when I open them.

Chapter Text

Izaya

Dim darkness is the first thing my mind is aware of as I blink my eyes in an attempt to get accustomed to the lack of light. Wasn’t it just noon? Did I fall asleep?  The second thing I find myself noticing is the gentle hand buried in my hair, heel resting on the top of my head. For a moment, I have no idea who’s touching me, the sensation is so wholly out of place with my reality. Where’s the coffin, where’s the graveyard, where am I?

Then the smell of antiseptic hits me and under it, the gentle scent of cigarettes and blood. As the sensory details sink in and the previous day's events come rushing back, I almost jerk upright.

The hand in my hair is Shizuo’s.

Just a dream, my mind murmurs, whisper soft, hushing my fears. It was just a nightmare.

I’m suddenly struck with an insane urge to laugh as I listen to the steady beeping of the heart monitor. He’s alive. The fear and the tension flee my body for a blessed moment, leaving me feeling almost giddy. Shizuo is alive. I hadn’t killed him after all.

That dream had felt so real, I’d believed for a moment that… That I’d lost him.

My hand is still intertwined with his.

Slowly, unsure if I really want to rouse him right now, I sit up, displacing the fingers I don’t doubt he was running through my hair at some point while I slept. Someone, probably Shinra, had draped a blanket over me after I had passed out. I clutch it with my free hand and smile slightly. Not a smirk or anything, just a smile.

Because Shizuo’s alive and he’s going to wake up. That thought alone is wondrous beyond anything I can dream of. For someone I propose to hate, I’ve sure changed my tune about him abruptly.

Moving back, I extricate my fingers from Shizuo’s and stare for a moment at the face of the man I had fought for so long. His color has returned to normal and his face is clear of any irritation. My heart catches in my throat as I realize Shizuo looks peaceful, like he’s happy almost. When was the last time I saw him look like this?

Years ago, maybe never.

I wonder, somewhere in the back of my mind, if waking him up would revert our relationship to what it used to be. Make it so we can just chase each other over Ikebukuro without worrying about those pesky little things called emotions that I don’t like feeling. I’ve still got too many of them, all crowding at the back of my throat where they make it hard to swallow and even harder to speak. I can’t stand them, and part of me wants nothing more than to just go back to the way it used to be before everything changed.

But maybe it’s too late for that, so I guess I’ll just have to get used to this, ne?

At the thought of what I’m being forced to grow accustomed to, my fear starts to trickle back.

Shizuo shifts and his brow furrows slightly as if he notices my absence. I briefly contemplate for how long he’d been conscious during the time I was passed out. Hopefully, it wasn’t long enough for him to remember anything. If I’m lucky, he’ll believe that what he saw, me sleeping here, holding his hand like some child, was just a dream.

I can only pray he didn’t catch me crying as I dreamed he was dead.

It would probably be advisable just to leave now before things get complicated. Of course it’s too late for that, things are already complicated, but even so, staying just seems out of the realm of possibility. I don’t belong here, after all, I’m a villain, not the protagonist of the story. I can’t stay.

But to be honest, I can’t leave either.

I just want to know what he meant when he said he loves me.

Now that my priorities are able to reorder themselves, my brain is doing a frightfully good job of telling me exactly what Shizuo had meant. He’d meant exactly what he’d said. Shizuo didn’t lie, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know how. Whatever class most infants take that teaches them how to be a human, Shizuo had missed it entirely.

If he says he loves me, he means it. There are no two ways about it.

The thought is terrifying. How am I supposed to respond to something like that? How can I, when I’m still stuck on the fact that I don’t hate him anymore either?

“I-zay-a?” The soft, scratchy tone jolts me from my thoughts. Shizuo is looking at me blearily through those golden eyes I know too well. His gaze travels over the room, taking in the bed he’s in, the medical equipment he’s attached to and finally me, the informant that he apparently hates no longer. Even that simple movement exhausts him and he goes limp once more, electing to stare at the ceiling.

I stare at him for a long moment in silence, fighting the urge to start sobbing. He’s awake, he’s alive and he’s not going to vanish on me. Through my terror at the questions he’s bound to ask me, I’m overjoyed.

“What… are you doing… here,” he asks softly, still not looking at me.

The truth is impossible, I can’t tell him about my fear, my guilt, or my part in saving him. If it’s important, Shinra will bring it up anyway, right?

So instead, I lie.

Struggling to regain my composure and stop feeling things, like a human, I shrug casually, even though the situation is anything but. “Just wanted to make sure my favorite monster didn’t die on me,” I answer, smirking at him playfully even though he’s not looking at me. Does it really count as lying if he didn’t ask me a direct question? Hopefully not.

Shizuo chuckles dryly and I realize how strange us having a conversation really is. We’re not chasing, no one is fighting, he’s not angry and it’s so… Easy, not putting on a show just to get close to him. I inhale sharply as the spark of clarity hits me. Because pretending is all I’ve ever done, ne? I know it can’t last though. We can only ignore the elephant in the room for so long before it tramples us. You don’t just forget almost being killed.

“Shinra’s really something, isn’t he?” Shizuo comments softly as he flexes his hand, the one I’d been holding. The momentary confusion on his face registers and leaves a bittersweet taste in my mouth. Ah, so he does think it was a dream. Glancing at the heart monitor and other instruments which, now that I think about it, he can probably read as well, the blond adds in a strange voice, “I thought I was dead.”

You were, I think, choking at the memory of him lying on the ground, bleeding and broken. You just aren’t anymore. That picture is one that I know will haunt me forever. “Silly Shizu-chan,” I rebuke gently, flicking his forehead for reasons I can’t fathom. “As if I would let you die that easily.” Why did I say that? When did my fingers decide to brush his hair from his eyes? The dyed blond strands are softer than I had expected, silky where I had predicted rough. I quickly pull my hand away, hating my own weakness. Wishing I could just give in, without being forced to face the consequences later.

Irritated with myself, I clench my hand in my lap.

Does he really have to give me that wounded, defeated look? Shizuo turns away from me and is silent for a moment. I know I’ve hurt him but I’m too unsure to try and fix anything. I should have left, this would all be so much simpler if I wasn’t here. Let Shinra handle him. “Thanks.” Shizuo’s mutter breaks through my thoughts and I fight the irresistible urge to laugh. I almost killed him and he’s thanking me? Then again, Shizuo has never made much sense.

“Idiot,” I murmur. My reward is a ripple of mirth from Shizuo that quickly turns into grunts of pain. “Idiot!” I squawk sharply, shooting up from my chair to glare at him. “Don’t laugh, you probably have a hundred stitches in you right now. You’ll start bleeding again.” I glance at the door, wondering if I should go and get Shinra. It would put an end to this doomed conversation at least.

“I’ll live,” Shizuo assures me, still chuckling, even with that contorted look of discomfort on his face. “You’ve done this before.”

We both fall silent because we both know it’s never been this bad. I can feel the shame burning my face so I turn away, pretending to be intensely interested in looking out the window. “You ruined my coat.” The conversation is quickly going downhill but I do nothing to stop it. I’m not sure I want to. The easiest solution would be for this to all go back to normal, right? No deep soul-searching conversations, no tears that I’ve been holding back all night now, just cat and mouse, hunter and the clever prey.

God and precious monster.

“Sorry.” He mutters and instantly I feel worse. Only Shizuo would apologize for something that isn’t even his fault. Something I’ll never be able to bring myself to blame him for. I turn back to him, hating the look on his face more than ever but unable to find a single ounce of distaste for the man himself. How did I ever hate him before? How do I go back to that now? My mind is spinning its wheels, throwing too much at me at once. The confusion starts clouding my mind once again and I try desperately to keep it at bay.

“It’s fine,” I whisper, blinking carmine eyes to keep everything from spilling out. “Blood washes out. It always has before.” Shizuo relaxes and I feel marginally better. At least he doesn’t look to be in as much pain now.

I’ve got to say something, I can’t just pretend everything is normal.

As the silence stretches, I summon what courage I can confidently say I have left and choke out, “I’m sorry- I’m sorry for… for almost…” My voice dies in my throat as his golden eyes lock with mine. Ashamed, I put my head down.

“It’s fine.” Shizuo mimics, voice soft and soothing. “Cuts heal eventually. They always have before.” His words make me smile uncertainly and he chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you smile genuinely before.”

I force a frown, not sure why we’re still joking around like we aren’t, weren't, enemies. I like it, it’s easy, but it can’t possibly last. “Stupid Shizu-chan, you irritate me.” It’s not true but… Anything to save face, ne? This conversation distracts me from my internal turmoil, after all.

He gives me a knowing look before wincing sharply and crying out in pain. “Sh-shit!” Shizuo clutches at his side and bites his lip. I can see the sweat standing out on his forehead as he tries to relax back into the bed. “Next time don’t stab me so hard,” he grunts, tremors wracking his form. Using his pain as a perfect excuse to quit while I’m ahead, I start for the door, intent on finding Shinra.

Let him deal with this, I’m not in any state to handle Shizuo right now. Not really.

“I’m going to find you pain meds,” I tell him in a clipped tone, the same one Namie uses when she doesn’t want me to argue with her. “Stay here.” Wow, like he can do anything else. You’re really losing your touch here Izaya. I bite back a retort, knowing that talking to myself would make me look insane. Now is really not the time.

“Wait, I’m fine Izaya.” Shizuo insists, reaching out for me to stop. I heed his words grudgingly and turn. One look at his face tells me all I need to know. He’s worried I’m going to leave him. It stings because I just might have. The voices screaming at me to get out shut up just long enough for me to huff and try for a smile.

“I’m coming back,” I assure him, knowing that in my weakness, I won’t be able to will myself to leave, even if I want to. Of course, while I won’t leave, I’m not above trying to convince Shinra to put Shizuo under again. If it means not having to deal with the words I don’t want to discuss, I just might. I need more time to think before I can even dream of talking to Shizuo about it.

“It’s not that bad,” he insists stubbornly, mouth turned down in a hard line.

“You’re in pain Shizu-chan,” I mutter, trying to look as sincere as possible.

I wonder how much Shizuo can read from my face because it’s probably giving away everything. But he doesn’t read people like I do, he’s just Shizuo, he can’t possibly see the fear and uncertainty in my eyes. To save myself, I take his silence as an affirmation and turn back towards the door, glad, though I know I shouldn’t be, to get out of there.

“I meant it you know,” Shizuo says suddenly, freezing me where I stand, hand on the door. My mind scrambles to find a convenient or even far-fetched excuse for his words but I already know what he’s talking about. I also know I can’t do this, not now. I haven’t had enough time to sort through how I feel about almost killing him. Shizuo can’t honestly expect me to have an answer to that. The silence apparently makes him uncomfortable because he prompts, “Izaya?”

I choke on my response, unable to say a word. There are a million things I want to say, there are a million more reasons I can’t say any of them. Only Shizuo would choose a time like this to point out that I'm not as together as I pretend to be. Only he would think I could handle it

Gripping the doorknob tighter, I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper, “Shizu-chan, please-” I’m not even sure what I’m asking him to do, I just can’t stand the sound of my own ragged breathing and my scrambled thoughts. All the shields I usually have fall short. The masks I’d just been using to hide behind are gone. The only thing I have left is the emotions at the back of my throat threatening to make their presence known. I wanted to kill you just last night. I almost lost it when I thought I’d killed you. I’m an emotional and mental wreck, I can’t do this!

“Just let me say it.” He insists, sounding desperate, like he needs me to understand. “It started after I realized you were human,” he continues, softer now, ever so calm in the face of my panic. “People always said the lines between love and hate were blurry. I guess they had a point.”

Slowly, I turn my head to look at Shizuo. There’s so much raw emotion in his eyes that I can’t bear to hold his gaze for long. His golden eyes are so soft, so forgiving, I don’t know what to do. No one has ever looked at me like that before.

When was the last time someone actually loved me?

As a child, it was always my faul. Misfortune, pain, suffering, I was the cause, the scapegoat. So instead of sucking up to people, I lived up to their expectations. I became what they thought of me and so much more. I lorded over ordinary people and liked it, loved them, and all I got for my troubles was hatred.

Nothing less than I deserve.

Yet here’s Shizuo, looking at me like I’m worth something, like I matter like he cares, and I don’t know how to respond. Part of me wants to, there’s something in me that’s melting at the soft look in his eyes, almost like I’ve finally found what I’ve been looking for since I met him.

Maybe I really have.

The possibility seeps through the shell around my mind, lifting me out of the confusion and fear.

Looking down he mutters, “I know it’s probably weird, me lo-”

Grasp on my calm breaking, I physically lurch forward. “I can’t,” I whisper frantically, begging him with my eyes to stop talking. All the fear comes crashing back once again. I can’t do this, I can’t! “Shizu-o, please stop.” It comes out sounding so fragile.

Something in his eyes crumbles and his mouth snaps shut. Hand moving to rub the back of his neck, his face colors in shame. “Shit, I’m sorry.” Shizuo struggles to sit up before doubling over in pain at the movement. “A~ah, fuck!”

Remembering the state he’s in and painfully aware of the state I’m in, I bolt from the room, hurriedly looking for Shinra anything else can happen. He’s passed out on the sofa, head resting on Celty’s shoulder. The dullahan is running her fingers through his hair absently as she presumably watches the TV, which is on and muted. Swiveling to face me, she quickly turns off the TV and reaches for her PDA. [Is Shizuo awake?] she types.

I nod curtly, glancing back towards Shizuo’s door with worry, half expecting him to try and come after me. “Shizu-chan just needs some pain meds before he throws a table at me.” The lie is too easy. Lies always are.

Celty turns back to Shinra and gently prods him awake. As he comes to, he sleepily mutters, “Celty darling?” under his breath before prying open his eyes and looking at the screen of her PDA. Whatever it says brings him alert.

Looking at me sheepishly, he adjusts his glasses and says, “Sorry Izaya, I just couldn’t keep my eyes open.” Stretching and rising to his feet, Shinra looks at the wall clock and mutters a complaint before walking towards Shizuo’s room. “How long has he been awake.”

“Long enough to curse at me,” I answer snidely, attempting to pretend, at least to the rest of the world, that I’m fine and Shizuo’s fine and we’re just like we’ve always been. It’s immediately clear the doctor doesn’t buy it for a second. But, instead of trying to contradict me, Shinra just sighs and enters the room Shizuo’s in, closing the door behind him. Taking that as a sign that I’m not welcome, my eyes flick back to Celty, only to find that she’s already facing me.

Even without eyes, I can feel her studying me.

[What was going on in there?] I startle at the question and freeze like a deer in the headlights. This isn’t a topic I can discuss calmly right now. Hah, calmly discuss, remember when that was a thing? Tiredly, I shake my head but Celty seems insistent on getting an answer so I slowly sit down on the floor and lean my back against the coffee table.

“Nothing out of the ordinary Celty,” I answer smoothly, closing my eyes for a moment and massaging my temples, trying to relax. Is there anything left that’s even a little normal? I know I’m lying to her, but when I can’t explain it to myself, how can I tell someone else? The sounds of furious typing cause me to grudgingly glance her way again.

[Actually, I heard most of it Izaya.] At the look on my face she quickly waves her hands vigorously in denial. [I wasn’t listening in on purpose, I just happened to overhear!] The sight of her panicking makes me smile despite myself.

“It’s okay Celty,” I mutter flatly. Probably, I should be acting embarrassed, Shizuo, after all, doesn’t have a filter between his brain and his mouth. He’d basically said that he loved me again, right where everyone could hear him, without shame. I discover, however, that I don’t have the energy to care. She also heard you making a mess of yourself, my mind reminds me, unhelpfully.

Ah, but what’s a little embarrassment compared to the full emotional meltdown I seem to be on the brink of?

Really, just as long as she never mentions it again, I’ll be fine. Well, not fine, but that might take a while. The thought makes my head throb angrily and in return, I drop my forehead to my knees. What does okay even feel like? It hasn’t been these last two months as Shizuo slowly slips away from me. It certainly wasn’t last night when I watched him as he almost died. The terrible nightmare I had is still fresh in my mind and I know that is probably the furthest from okay I have ever been. How am I supposed to be something I don’t remember?

As if that wasn’t enough, I have to handle how I feel about Shizuo. Yeah, I’m pretty far from okay.

Celty taps my arm.

[You should give him an answer.]

Throat closing once more, I feel the pressure start to build back up in my head. Pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes as if that’ll solve my problems, I breathe, “I can’t.” The urge to break down is stronger than ever but I fight it because I won’t let this break me. I’m already all over the place, tears aren’t going to help.

God, I want to cry.

Celty places a gentle hand on my shoulder and I look up at her. If she’d had a head, I’m sure she’d be looking at me comfortingly right now, pitying me. The thought that someone, anyone, would think that I, Izaya Orihara, am deserving of pity is enough to make me realize how pathetic I must be acting. Feeling much like the world is slowly falling off its axis, I stumble to my feet and lurch away from her. “What does Shizu-chan even expect me to say?” I ask frustratedly. “How am I supposed to have an answer to a question like that?”

[You’re supposed to answer truthfully.] Celty types. [Even if you’re going to reject him.] I almost choke at the next words she types. [Except we both know you aren’t going to do that, otherwise, you already would have.]

I hate it when other people act like they know me. I hate it even more when they’re right. Whatever else clouds my mind, I know deep down that the weight in my heart means something. The fact that I’ve been driven to this point at all means more. If I felt nothing, I would have forgotten about Shizuo years ago. As it is…

Looking back at the closed door I mumble, “What if I don’t know how I feel?” deciding against questioning the fact that I’m talking about my feelings with a headless Irish fairy. Honestly, you get used to it after a while.

[That’s an answer right there.]

Her words surprise me. “But I’m not-”

Before I can finish, Celty proffers her PDA so I can read it. [The only thing you shouldn’t do is say nothing. You’ve both been through a lot, Shizuo deserves at least that much respect.]

Somehow, that’s what I need to hear. I don’t have to appease Shizuo, I don’t have to claw at the terrifying thoughts that run rampant in my mind. I just need to tell Shizuo I need time and it’ll be fine. Well, maybe not fine but enough.

More than I deserve.

In the silence, I glance at the clock and raise my eyebrows in surprise. It’s been a long night, hasn’t it? All at once, I feel the exhaustion hit me. I can take a nap later, first, I need to do this.

Smiling thinly at Celty, I slowly pad back to Shizuo's room, no longer quite so scared. I still feel fragile and ready to break down at any moment. I still don’t have any earthly idea what I’m going to say or do once I open that door. I still can’t even begin to predict what’s going to happen but I guess knowing everything isn’t essential all the time.

Maybe it’s okay, for now.

“-But once the sedative wears off I promise you can leave Shizuo-san.” Shinra was saying, apparently trying to placate the injured beast. “Please don’t fight it, it’s easier if you just let it put you under.” I peer at Shizuo to find him glaring at Shinra, not looking the least bit sedated.

“Could have fucking told me that before you injected me!” he grumbles loudly, glancing past Shinra to find me. The instant our eyes meet, his face softens and he looks guilty almost. I hate that look on his face, it feels self-righteous, like by feeling guilty he’s justifying what he did before. Guilt is a disgusting emotion that does nothing. It just festers. It just makes things more complicated. Ah, but I’m projecting, ne?

What I despise most is how I’m left feeling like an idiot. Obviously, my stuttered excuses before did nothing but cause him more angst. All I ever do is hurt him, why does he love me?

“Ah, Izaya-san!” Shinra looks nervous. “M-maybe you should leave, you’re awake after all.” When I don’t move he pleads, “Shizuo-san has sedatives in his system and I don’t want you upsetting him and ruining their effect.” How can I leave when Shizuo looks at me like that, like I’m worth the world.

“I won’t,” I reassure the doctor softly, still watching Shizuo who looks both nervous and hopeful, all layered over with a certain amount of drug-induced drowsiness that I know he hates. “I’m just tired Shinra.” And it’s the truth, which helps it go over better.

“If you’re so insistent about staying, can’t you sleep out on the couch?” Shinra asks pathetically, clearly at the end of his already frayed rope.

“Go away Shinra,” I say gently.

Shinra’s eyes search mine, looking for any reason to make me leave. I know he doesn’t want anything to go wrong and I can’t fault him for it, for the worry. Once again though, I see that softening in his eyes, as if he finally understands. With a slight nod, Shirna leaves.

Shizuo and I spend a moment just looking at each other silently. Somehow, the quiet is painful. Fraught with tension and unspoken words that neither of us can bear to say.

Or maybe it’s just me.

“Izaya,” Shizuo breaks the silence abruptly, his scratchy voice sounding heavy. “Look, I’m really so-”

I hold up a hand. Stop apologizing. “Not right now Shizu-chan, please?” I beg, looking at the floor. It swims in my vision and I jerk my head up, keeping the tears from falling. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, please, try to understand.

“But-”

“I’m tired,” I interrupt, resolutely walking towards his bed. Finding the chair I had been sleeping in before, I pull it closer to his side before all but melting into it. I don’t have to understand. I’ll figure it out later. Exhaustion and stress swamp me as I lay my head down on the bed and stare up at Shizuo. “I promise I’ll answer you, just not now, please?” I need him to understand.

“Promise…” Shizuo repeats as his fingers brush my upturned cheek and he relaxes. In that moment I feel like I can physically watch the sedatives take hold. “Stay?” He asks, the word sounding too thick for his own mouth. 

Not trusting myself to answer, I bob my head in affirmation before closing my eyes and focusing on the sensation of Shizuo’s calloused fingers on my skin. It feels so comforting, so relaxing. Is this what love feels like, Shizu-chan?

“Promise?” he murmurs.

My voice sounding strange to my own ears, I whisper, “Yes.” It doesn’t take long for the hand to go limp as he slips into sleep.

I’ll stay, I think as my own mind drifts off. It would be best if I leave.

But I’ll stay for now.

Chapter Text

Fuck, it hurts. Consciousness can be an ass like that sometimes. Hell, my whole body aches. I guess that’s what I should expect after what I’ve been through but that doesn’t make it any less painful. Last time I woke up I’d still been hopped up on pain meds, this time, not so much. I attempt to open my eyes but even that requires too much effort. I feel like a fucking sack of potatoes.

The room is still but for my breathing.

Izaya’s gone...

Slowly my eyes creak open of their own accord. I’m still not precisely in control of them but at least now the dim light is registering on my retinas. Artificial if I’m any judge, streaming in from the other room. Probably, it’s evening, considering the sedative Shinra had apparently given me earlier. Whatever had been in that syringe, it had really done its job.

In the later hours of the day, the room has grown cold.

He said he’d stay…

I take a moment to marvel at the fact that I’m actually still alive, still breathing and thinking and shit. There’d been a second there where I had simply known ‘this is it. I’m not surviving this’ and here I am, not dead. A fucking miracle.

Especially since I hadn’t been able to keep my mouth shut.

He hates me now…

Fuck.

The second wave of pain hits me like a truck. I can’t help the tears. I’m not one for crying but I can’t stop myself. They spill out over my cheeks, hot and wet, reminding me of blood and raven hair. God, how could I have been so stupid? My chest hurts for reasons that have nothing to do with the lacerations crisscrossing it. I can’t breathe properly. Finally, I manage to move my hands and use them to cover my face, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes like that’ll change anything.

It’s not like I expected anything less than rejection but… He’d promised to stay damnit! He’d promised…

And he’d left, just like that. The room drops several degrees in temperature and a violent shiver wracks me just as the soft sob escapes my mouth. Fuck, I’m just pathetic. It hadn’t mattered so much when I was dying but now that I’m alive…

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

What had I been thinking?

The previous night plays over in my head. Izaya, staring at me with tears in his eyes. Izaya, curled up beside me, fingers intertwined with mine. Izaya, whispering my name as he cried in his sleep. Izaya, smiling and laughing with me. Izaya, trembling as he choked on his own words. Izaya, looking like he was about to break apart but somehow still holding on.

Izaya, leaning against my side, promising he wouldn’t leave…

It hurts. The tears soak my hair and pillow, leaving cold wetness behind. It chases the heat with a settling chill that I can feel in my heart.

Why does it have to hurt this much? My chest feels like it’s caving in, hollowing out and emptying along with my eyes. Why did it have to be him?

It hurts.

It hurts.

It fucking hurts .

Izaya…

I’m not sure how long it takes but eventually, the tears run out. Eventually my cheeks dry and my nose stops running. Eventually, I run out of feelings and am just left cold. Dead, and empty.

I can still smell him.

Fuck...

Shinra opens the door, but I don’t startle, don’t move. It doesn’t matter, he knows I’m awake. Turning on a soft light, he starts going over the instrument panels beside me, every now and then making hmm sounds that sound mostly positive. That, at least, is good. I’d rather not be stuck here any longer than I have to be. “You’re awake.” He comments. If he sees the redness in my eyes, he chooses not to remark on it. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, slowly sitting up, distantly pleased to be able to do this, even with the impressive amounts of pain that accompany the movement. On the plus side, I’m not bothered by it so in the end, I don’t care if it hurts. As I watch Shinra record my blood pressure and BPM, a question surfaces.

If Izaya doesn’t care, why did he come here in the first place?

“How’re you feeling?” Shinra asks, still scribbling on his clipboard illegibly. When I don’t answer right away he pauses and glances up expectantly. It seems like a stupid question, but I’ve found that doctors often ask stupid questions for the sake of thoroughness.

“Fine,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair as more questions bubble up. Why would Izaya promise anything if he just planned to leave? Why not just turn me down right then and there? No, I’m being stupid, Izaya was just confused. Probably, he came to his senses and realized what a terrible mistake he’d been making.

It makes sense, more sense than I’d like it to.

“Fine, really?” Shinra’s tapping the top of his clipboard, unimpressed with my answer.

Remembering where I am and what I’m supposed to be focusing on, I clear my throat and insist, “Yeah, great. Better than I was when I came here.” An appropriately stupid answer to an equally stupid question. “Still in pain though.”

Making another note in his papers, Shinra nods. “Yes, getting stabbed fifty-six times in the upper body torso region will do that to you.” Turning away from me and back towards the things I’m connected to, Shirna continues, “But, all things considered, you seem to have made it through just fine.”

“What happened… while I was out?” I ask haltingly, curious. Shinra pauses in his inspection of the IV to give me a startled look. “Why am I still alive.” I clarify, hoping he’ll understand what I’m asking without me having to spell it out for him.

A look of dawning comprehension crosses his face. “Oh, that!” He suddenly looks a bit nervous. “Um… Promise you won’t throw anything at me.” I hate when he says things like that. My only response is a grunt. Shinra frowns. “I said promise.”

How loaded that word, promise, can be.

“I promise.” I relent, watching the doctor impatiently. Any more of his bullshit and I might just throw something at him.

“Well,” Shinra takes a deep breath. “You almost were dead when you came in because you’d lost so much blood and I didn’t have anything of the right blood type on hand to perform a transfusion so you were going to die but then Izaya-san reminded me that he has the same blood type as you and pretty much forced me to use his blood so basically Izaya-san saved you and now you have his blood running through your body as we speak and there is nothing I can do to get rid of it so please don’t ask me to try.” He gasps loudly, sucking in air before flinching away from me. “Sorry,” Shinra adds.

“For what?” I grunt, trying to sort through all the information that’s just been thrown at me. The only words of that entire rambling mess my mind caught are Izaya saved you and my brain is struggling to not short circuit. He would have done the same for anyone except this is Izaya and he doesn’t do shit for anyone. You were just his playtoy but he could have let Shinra muddle through on his own. He left you but he didn’t when it mattered.

Against all the painful logic I’ve neatly laid out for myself, this one thing keeps snagging, dragging on the fucking stupid hopes I’m trying to hide.

“Sorry for everything?” Shirna answers warily. Glancing at him, I roll my eyes and snort in tired amusement. When this isn’t the response he’s expecting, he frowns and asks, “Are you okay Shizuo-san? Like, emotionally...”

Izaya saved me. Am I even allowed to hope?

He also left you, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Where’s Izaya?” I ask, scanning the room as if he might pop out of the walls with his signature smirk and a playful Shizu-chan . How quick my mind is to believe he won’t insult me or hurt me instead. He doesn’t appear of course, not that I really thought he would.

“Shizuo-san, you’re really not in the best place to be picking fights with Izaya-san.” Shinra lectures me, nervous. His concern isn’t without reason, but it’s not what I need right now. Actually, if he could just stop worrying about the possibility of me hurting Izaya at all, that’d be great. After this, I’m pretty sure he knows how I feel.

But I don’t have time to argue. I need to get out of here, preferably sooner rather than later. This place, with its sharp smell and emptiness, I can’t stand to be in here a moment longer than necessary.

“Did I look like I wanted to kill him before?” I point out, glaring at Shinra hard. The doctor furrows his brow and looks conflicted. “The answer is no, Shinra,” I mutter with a snort, rolling my eyes away from him.

“Well, you don’t exactly seem happy with him either,” Shinra reminds me, making a few last notes on his clipboard before giving me a mildly creepy smile. “As always your ability to heal takes my breath away. I would just love to-”

“Am I allowed to fucking leave now?” I growl, not really wanting to have the whole dissection argument again.

Shinra spends a moment examining his notes and weighing the pros and cons before answering, “Yes, I suppose so Shizuo-san, but I want you to go home .” He fixes me with a meaningful look. “Not go looking for Izaya-san.”

As if I would do something like that. He clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me right now. But the doctor has a point, I want to find the man, despite everything I want to see him. It’s stupid, but then, Izaya loves to remind me I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed on a day to day basis.

“I won’t,” I tell Shinra softly, not looking at him. He sighs shortly and I flick my eyes upwards. For a moment he just studies me, as if looking for the tell on my face, until I start to feel uncomfortable. “I mean it Shinra, I’ll go home.” Apparently, the doctor decides he believes me because a second later he sighs and starts disconnecting me from the different beeping machines he’s got hooked up to me without further protests.

“Celty Darling, will you bring me Shizuo-san’s clothes?” Shinra calls before turning to me and explaining, “Your shirt was little more than tatters but your pants were fine. I dug up an old shirt for you to wear.” He surveys me and looks concerned, though I suspect it has nothing to do with the state of my clothing. “I hope it fits.”

It probably won’t but I’m too tired and want to get out of here too much to complain. More importantly, I’m too emotionally drained to ask Shinra why he’s worried about me. Like a nervous tick, I circle thoughts of Izaya through my mind while the silence stretches, hoping to find something I haven’t caught already. Something that will give me a definitive answer as to how Izaya feels.

The exercise is pointless. I have no idea what goes on inside Izaya’s mind and that isn’t about to change now.

Celty appears in the doorway and tosses me the shirt and my now clean pants. [It’s good to see you awake] she types, the tension vanishing from her stance. Probably worried about me as well, unsure if I was going to make it through the night at all. I hate the thought that I worried anyone but I guess it was inevitable. [I'm relieved.]

“Believe me, I am too,” I tell her instead, offering a slight smile.

Courteously, they leave and I dress quickly, or, as quickly as I can manage considering I look and feel like shit. Even if I’ll be fine in a week or so, I still hate it. Most of my mind is focused on getting home as promptly as possible but I can’t quite get rid of Izaya. I know it’ll only cause me more stress but it hurts. None of his actions in the past twenty-four hours have made the least bit of sense.

I want to believe that’s a good thing, that my words changed him, but more likely than not, he’s going to avoid me from now on. Shit, I really fucked things up, didn’t I? I need to get home… But that’s not going to fix anything and I don’t have the answers I’m looking for.

Only Izaya has those answers, and he doesn’t seem too willing to give out any hints.

I say my goodbyes to Shinra and Celty. They both seem worried but I’m too out of it to put them at ease, especially when I’ve got so many problems of my own.

The walk home passes in relative peace. My mind is fuzzy, numb. I suppose it’s preferable to it not shutting up but not by much. All this does is leave me alone with the pain of my stitches and the ache in my chest. Part of me does want to see Izaya, talk to him at the very least but I can’t bring myself to do it. Besides, I don’t know where he is and I’m exhausted.

The cool night air is a relief. It reminds me of the night before, Izaya’s taunting as he cruelly cuts at me, a desperate light in his eyes. He’d seemed manic as he attacked me, crazy like he couldn’t stop himself. The moment he’d realized I was dying, however, Izaya had just looked…

Scared.

I shake my head to rid it of my thoughts. It’s useless to try and figure out what that flea is thinking, half the time I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s thinking. Me worrying about it isn’t going to help, it’ll only give me a headache.

I’ll find him eventually.

My apartment swims into my field of view and suddenly I’m standing outside my door. The sight of it draws the tension out of me and I nearly collapse against it. Exhausted, I fumble with my keys that Shinra so kindly put back in my pocket and unlock the door. It creaks open at my touch and I gratefully push my way into my home. I’m so ready for this fucking day to end. I hurt, physically, emotionally and mentally and all I want is to collapse on my own bed and sleep forever.

I can deal with Izaya later. I can deal with all the shit he’s putting me through later.

Leaning against my front door to close it, I let out a gust of breath and feel my head fall back, hitting the wood. The world, that’s been spinning for the past day and a half, stops, stealing what strength I have left. I need a cigarette and maybe something to drink… The air moving peacefully through my house makes my eyelids droop closed. Soft breaths, aligning with my own are enough to make me seriously contemplate falling asleep where I stand.

Wait, breathing?

The fuck?

Jerking alert, I stare straight ahead at the other person in the room. Izaya is curled up on the edge of my couch, his coat covering him haphazardly like a makeshift blanket. He’s breathing is deep and his eyes are closed, entirely peaceful. For a moment my mind goes blank as I wonder, what is he doing here?

The raven before me looks like a child in sleep. His face, usually so twisted with malice, is smooth and guileless. No doubt because of the chill that pervades my shit apartment, his lips are tinted blue. Everything about him looks so… beautiful, unreachable, perfect. I’m struck with the powerful urge to touch him. Disturb the untouchable aura around him. Sure I should be wondering how he got in or why he’s here or what the fuck he wants from me after leaving me alone back at Shinra’s but I don’t. Him being here says enough.

He’s keeping his promise after all. Izaya hasn’t left me, he’s not going to run away, he’s going to give me an answer.

Slowly, because I’m not sure I want him to wake the tired raven up, I pad towards Izaya, already feeling the tension leak out of my body. For all the shit we’ve been through, he doesn’t look nearly as worried as he should. Falling asleep in my house is a dumbass thing to do, even though I love him.

Maybe especially because I love him. I wonder if this means he trusts me, I’m assuming however that it’s just a coincidence. One of those things...

Reaching down to the floor, I retrieve the worn blanket I usually use when I’m cold and spread it over the flea, hoping to make the blue in his lips go away. At the sensation of the threadbare fabric draping over his face he curls up further, mumbling mostly incoherent words as he does so.

“Shizu-chan…” He breathes, stirring the hair falling in his face. Heart hammering, I resist the desire to brush the stray locks from his eyes, instead sinking into the cushions on the opposite end of the couch as him. Just to be sure, I fist my hands in the sofa, not wanting to wake him. The tee-shirt Shinra dug up for me itches and is probably two sizes too small but I ignore that. I’m not sure I ever want to look away from Izaya.

Because once he wakes up, things are going to change. I might not know how yet but we’re never going to be Shizuo and Izaya: Legendary Rivals again. Most likely, he’s going to reject me. We’ve hated each other since forever after all, what reason would he have to change his mind. If I’m lucky, and I never am, he might allow us to become friends or something but the chances are slim. Either way, whatever he says is going to fucking hurt. But then, it already does so how much worse can the pain get?

Then he stirs and I realize that it can get worse, so much worse. The raven sits up, his movements slow, lethargic. Cute, fucking adorable. Blinking sleepily, Izaya turns to look at me, clutching at the blanket with fingers I can tell he’s been chewing on. The look he gives me is heartbreaking and gut-wrenching. It’s so full of suppressed emotion, fear, helplessness, exhaustion, I have to break eye contact.

“Shizu-chan?” He still looks tired, worn to the bone. Though sleepiness might be to blame, his voice sounds cracked, close to shattering altogether. I can tell his grip on reality is tenuous, his breath coming in shallow gasps. As if lost, he casts about momentarily, confused by his surroundings, then he swallows hard and looks back at me. “I’m sorry,” he whispers breathlessly. “I swear, I have a good reason for being here.”

“I know,” I affirm, unable to do more than stare at the fucking floor. Whatever the response he’s expecting, that apparently isn’t it. Even with the space between us, I can feel him start to shake, the tremors rippling over the couch. It hurts me to see the proud informant like this but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about it. Can I even do something about it? It isn’t my place.

“I know I promised I would stay but I couldn’t.” He’s tripping over his own words and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I woke up and Shinra said you wouldn’t wake up until late and I didn’t know what else to do.” I can’t understand his tremors, is he scared of me? The possibility hurts, Izaya’s never been scared of me before. Why now, why, after everything?

Needing to calm him, I try to insist, “It’s fine ‘zaya, I’m not-”

“And I was going to stay awake and think through things so I’d be able to answer you but I was just so tired,” babbles Izaya. At this point, I doubt anything I say is going to get through to him. “I’m sorry for being here, I know it’s late and you’ve probably had enough of me but I just- I just…” His lower lip trembles violently as Izaya stares at me helplessly, brokenly. The blanket I had draped over him hangs over his head, drooping into his crimson eyes.

He looks like he’s a second from fracturing into a million pieces.

“C’mere.” Moving my legs to the cushions, I beckon my broken, red-eyed god forward. I expect him to refuse, to push me away. For a second I even think he might get up and leave. I don’t expect, or rather, don’t let myself hope for what happens next.

With a choked whimper, Izaya rocks forward and melts into my arms, letting loose a soft keening sob.

If I thought I’d seen him cry when I was dying, I was wrong.

Shivers wrack his thin frame as he lets go all the pain, uncertainty and pressure from the past few days. It’s more than I’d have expected one body could hold, leading me to understand just how much he’d been shouldering. Unable to do more than shake, Izaya just huddles against me, clutching at my shirt weakly. I let him sob, pulling him close and burying my face in his silken hair. His tears soak my shirt and the skin beneath but I don’t care.

I’ve never seen Izaya like this before. I’ve seen every spectrum of his emotions but never such vulnerability. Never such intense trust in another person. It’s a glaring reminder that no matter how much he claims to be a god, he’s human. He can hurt, even break to pieces. Holding him as close as is physically possible, I stroke the exposed skin of his neck and whisper meaningless words in his ears until the shaking stops and the crying abates. He hiccups once before he falls absolutely silent, just breathing in and nothing else.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to give you an answer,” Izaya mumbled suddenly, his breath tickling my chest. There are still tears coursing down his face, but he’s calmer, thinking more rationally. Staring at the top of his head, I try to formulate a response as he continues, “I’m sorry I don’t know how I feel.” I suppose hoping for an answer was asking too much but I’m still disappointed.

“But you don’t hate me anymore?” I blurt out, causing him to startle against me. My hand stills in his hair as I curse myself. Shit, I just had to open my goddamned mouth…

“Did I ever hate you?” I’m pretty sure it’s a rhetorical question. Either that or Izaya is talking to himself. Whoever the intended recipient, Izaya shudders at his own words, the hands in my shirt tightening. “Looking back on it, you were always special Shizu-chan, different.”

Different? A monster? Not good enough for even the twisted love he lavishes on his ‘humans’?

“You didn’t believe the lies, you weren't scared, you just hated me. It was so refreshing.” Oh, so that’s what he’s talking about… I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until it becomes painful. I just want - need - to hear more. “You’re such a beast, Shizu-chan,” Izaya adds, dare I say affectionately?

No, I’m just reading too much into this, his voice is just muffled.

“So I kept doing things to hurt you, to give me an excuse to be around you, and I’ve always just said I hated you.” Izaya’s face presses into my chest and a thrill of feeling races through me at just how close he is. “Because it was always easier than understanding.” The regret in his voice is almost tangible, though why he regrets something we were both responsible for is beyond me.

“I figured that, if nothing else, no matter what happened, you’d always be there.”

Izaya draws in a harsh breath and his trembling returns. “But- but then you left and I was so alone. I just was so scared that you had forgotten me and…” A feeble, dry sob wracks him. “I just wanted you to remember me Shizu-chan, even if it meant killing you.”

“Oi flea,” I grumbled softly, feeling my heart break for him. “ ‘m not dead, It’s fine. I’m just a little banged up is all.” Izaya slowly lifts his head from my shirt. His face is red and puffy from crying and his eyes are wide and hopeless. I would do anything to make that look go away. I almost do something anyway, despite the situation. How much can I get away with, where's the line?

“But it’s not fine Shizu-chan,” Izaya whispers, shaking his head. “You almost died and I’m- I’m such a mess.” He flails then falls silent, staring at me with eyes that overflow with feeling. I want to help, I want to give him the answers. All I want to do is make that hurt disappear. Is that really too much to ask for?

“So what if I care?” He spits, looking frustrated and helpless. “So what if I never want you to forget me? So what if I actually care about you? So what if I even might love you.” His words come out in a rush. “I’m the person who tried to kill you. Why would you ever care about someone like me? Why don’t you hate me?”

Wait, did Izaya just…

Shitty flea…

He loves me.

I don’t even bother responding. I’m not exactly sure I can think of anything to say to what Izaya just said because, to be honest, I don’t have a good answer to any of those questions. Instead, I pull him closer and kiss the damned flea before he can say anything else. He stiffens and for a moment I wonder if I screwed up, but then his lips part and he’s kissing me back and I realize that this moment, Izaya , is worth almost dying for.

There’s blood on his lips from his constant abuse of them, I’m pretty sure I taste like day old cigarettes but I also know that neither of us cares. I’m alive and he’s here and honestly, that’s all that matters.

I’m not sure how long we stay like that, long enough till we’ve both run out of breath and all the tension has left Izaya’s body. It only takes him seconds to fall asleep, still curled up in my arms, comfortably close. My whole world sleeping on my chest like an overgrown cat. I don’t mind, of course. Given the chance, I’m pretty sure I’d stay like that forever, just holding him.

“I love you too, shitty flea,” I whisper to the raven as my own eyes close, heavy with exhaustion.

“Forever. I promise.”

‘S funny how these things happen…