A/N: Hallo~ I am going to start out with the fact that this story IS. NOT. MINE. My friend wrote it, but she's too shy to post it on her own account, so I'm posting it here for her instead (yes, she gave me permission). It's about Izaya and Shizuo, and it's... Really sad. So. Be prepared for sadness ._.
Disclaimer: I don't own Durarara, this story, or anything of the type. And neither does my friend.
Izaya had been fast asleep by the time midnight rolled around. Key word: had. Now, at twelve-fifty-five, however, he was wide awake, trying to drown out the incessant knocking coming from his livingroom. Whoever was at his door had some nerve; waking up the great Orihara Izaya in the middle of the night… he would have to punish them later. Deciding that waiting around, pretending to still be deep in sleep, wasn't going to solve the problem- the mystery person had started to knock louder, for god's sake- he climbed out of his bed, and, grabbing his trusty switchblade, made his way to the front door.
He grasped the handle of the door and flung it open, ready to show his lovely human what happened when his dreams were interrupted(how did they think he got this sexy? Magically? It was called 'beauty sleep' for a reason, dangit) when his words caught in his throat. It wasn't one of his humans, but a monster instead.
"Shizu-chan," he said irritably, leaning against the doorframe, "I understand your wish to kill me, but couldn't you have waited until sunrise? It's one in the morning. Or, could your protozoan brain not read the clock?" The informant yawned, crossing his arms. For a moment, the blond before him did not speak and Izaya could feel his irritation rising. "If you just came here to stand there-"
"Izaya."
The brunet glanced up, startled by the fact that Shizuo had said his name so calmly. Only then did he notice the tears threatening to spill from the older man's eyes. Shizuo was just one surprise after the other, the last thing the informant expected to find at his door was the Monster of Ikebukuro crying. "Shizu-chan, why are you showing such emotions? Monsters aren't supposed to cry," he replied with a snarky tone. Not even the slightest hint of anger flashed in the bodyguard's eyes, confusing Izaya even more.
"What do you want?" he asked, shifting uncomfortably as Shizuo stood there despondently.
"Izaya," the former bartender repeated, and Izaya straightened up, waiting for a punch or some harsh words to be thrown his way. However, what the blond muttered next had Izaya's world spinning, "Izaya… I want you to… kill me."
All the brunet could manage was a harsh laugh, "Really, Shizu-chan? Is this some sort of joke?" Shizuo's fist clenched at his side, although this went unnoticed by the smaller male, as he was still busy laughing. "...Kasuka… he's in the hospital." Izaya stopped laughing abruptly and looked up at the blond; he was trembling and the brunet could see the tears spilling down his cheeks. "...I lost my cool and-and," Izaya barely heard the bodyguard's whisper, but his heart still nearly stopped cold, "I hit him…"
The dark haired man stared at the taller of the two, shock written all over his face, never, not even in a million years, did he think the blond would become so enraged as to lash out on his own little brother. Shizuo's soft sobs penetrated his thoughts and snapped him back to the reality in front of him. "Shizu-chan. As much as I'd like to… I don't think-"
"Why not?!" the distraught male cried, slamming a fist into the doorframe, missing Izaya's head by mere centimetres. "I hit Kasuka! My little brother's in the hospital because of me! You always say I'm a monster, and here I am proving you right! Monsters don't deserve to live, Izaya!"
"You protozoan, I'm not going to kill you for something as petty as that!" the informant shot back.
"You… you piss me off so much!" Shizuo yelled. "You said only you were allowed to kill me, yet, when I offer myself up, you refuse!"
"Shizuo, I'm not going to kill you. Besides, you'd just walk away, I don't think anything can kill you."
Izaya regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, the desperate look in the man's eyes actually frightened him. "A bullet to the head will kill anybody." Izaya's heart clenched painfully in his chest.
"I don't like guns."
"A stab to the heart."
"That would dirty my precious blade."
"Suffocation."
"Your disgusting germs would infect whatever object I used."
"D***it, Izaya, just frucking kill me!"
Izaya froze. The sheer distress in his enemy's voice sent a wicked chill down his spine. Were those his hands that were shaking? He couldn't remember the last time he trembled this badly. He couldn't just kill his arch-enemy. Then he'd be bored all the time; sure, manipulating the gangs and causing strife among them was fun, but teasing the "Strongest Man in Ikebukuro" was what he lived for. Their games of cat and mouse were what he looked forward to after a day of irksome clients. He couldn't just sacrifice that all because Shizuo was devastated over an accident. He wouldn't do it. He just wouldn't. He-
"Please."
And that was when his resolve shattered. Numbly, the smaller man stepped away from the door, beckoning the taller inside with a wave of his hand. With his arm shaking more than he thought possible, Izaya pointed towards the sliding glass doors on the opposite side of the room, "The terrace. I don't want your monster germs on my floor." He didn't even notice the way his own voice quavered as he spoke.
Silently, Shizuo made his way to the specified destination. He simply stood there, looking out at the nightlife of Shinjuku, and waiting for Izaya, as the cool night air washed over him. It wasn't as busy as Ikebukuro, but there were still people ambling about. He heard the door open and shut once again and knew that the brunet had joined him. He made to turn around when a sharp cry stopped him, "Don't look at me." Shizuo was confused. Izaya, however, knew that if he were to see the blond's face his resolve would build itself back up and he wouldn't be able to continue. His breath hitched as Shizuo turned slightly, not enough to see the informant's expression, but enough to see the small pistol in the man's quivering hand.
The bodyguard smiled, even though the tears were still rolling down his cheeks. He turned his back to the man once more.
Izaya was unaware of the tears cascading down his own face as he leveled the weapon with Shizuo's head. He choked back a sob.
That night, the almost serene air of Shinjuku was pierced by a lone gunshot and a gut-wrenching wail.
