Disclaimer: Me no own. Me no own. Me cry….me make fanfictoin…(why that style, I have no idea).

FOT: Hello! A new fanfiction, horrah! Hitomi decided that we get writer's block a little too much and that we should write a new fanfic. How this will help the writer's block, I don't know.

Hitomi: But, we started this, even if we have no coherent summary. This one was sort of inspired by KnKfics…good writer's, good writers…

FOT: Yeah. Why we decided to do this and stick with this idea is pretty much unknown. And these kinds of fics we've hardly ever seen, so how this idea came about is weird.

Hitomi: But we hope it will be fun anyway, both for us and for you.

FOT: So, without further ado, here is a half Yamaken…with other character pairings and other half-pairings….you'll get why…

Irremovable Scars By Fairyoftwilight

Chapter 1: The Grounding Dream

Ken stood on the balcony of his new home, leaning against the railing. He didn't' think they would have moved so close. When his parents said they were moving, he thought it was going to be further away from his friends, not closer. He was partially glad about it. But there was something that wasn't allowing him to feel comfortable about the move. Something wasn't really right.

Wormmon was asleep on his bed, so asking him if he felt the same way was out of the question. The little guy was exhausted. He felt like calling Koushiro or Yamato or even Daisuke, but he was still helping unpack.

"Ken, dear, will you come help me with this?"

"Yes, mother," he said, walking back inside with a slight smile on his face so as not to worry her. The air was cool that afternoon. They were almost done unpacking. Maybe it would be nice to head out afterwards.

His mother was taking the dishes out of one box marked "Fragile." She was having some difficulty putting them in the cupboard. She had hurt her hand recently, but wouldn't tell her family how. Ken would have told her a thing or two, but she was his mother. He can't really do that. He could only help her put away what she asked him to. The cups in the right-hand side, the dishes on the left, stacked up neatly. In the drawer, the spoons go in the far left, biggest to smallest, the forks next to them, then the knifes. The other utensils to in the little area beneath them all. The butcher knife and sharper knifes are in their rack on the counter, easy access in order to make meals or to cut what needed to be cut.

His father was at work, unfortunately, so he couldn't help right now. He had told Ken that maybe he could help later in the day, but Ken and his mother already knew that they would have everything finished by the time he got home. He had been getting home late, lately and they grew used to it. He was honest, so he was believed. The days he did get home early, they enjoyed a nice family dinner, talking about work, school, what they would like to do. It was nice, but the uncomfortable feeling never left.

Ken finally finished helping my mom before she gave him a kind smile.

"Thank you," she said.

"It was nothing."

Yes. It was nothing to help out his mother. Just another duty of being her child. He had to help her, right? It was the respectable and rightful thing to do. He walked out of the room, and entered his own, deciding to turn on the computer, hopefully to see someone he knew online. But no one was there. He shut it off, not finding anything else to do.

The green sweater on his bed was all he grabbed before he walked out of his room, not even bothering to wake up Wormmon, since he needed his rest. Ken knew he was being a hypocrite in thinking it, especially since he was rundown as well. He had kept Wormmon up half the night with his nightmares. He needed sleep, too. But the bad feeling wouldn't go away. It was only made worse because of his lack of sleep in the past three weeks. Somehow he felt it was going to get worse.

When his parents asked him why he had large bags under his eyes, he just smiled and said he stayed up too late studying for an exam. Yes…a difficult exam…deciphering his dreams and figuring out what they meant. He had started to write down his dreams after the second night. They had begun to plague him in how they came in large numbers throughout the night.

"Mom, I'm going out for a walk, okay? I'll be back in a bit," he called as he put on my shoes, already opening the door.

"Okay, but don't stay out too late."

"I won't."

He shut the door and began his walk, irritated with the house and how quiet it had become. Not even the sounds coming form the monitor or the keyboard broke through the silence that ate everything around it. Even his own breathing became nothing in that silence. The only thing that got past it was that uneasy feeling that something horrible was going to happen.

But those dreams had something to do with it. He just knew it, but he wanted to see if someone else felt it. There was another that felt it, he was sure of it. He wasn't alone, was he?

It wasn't long into his walk when that feeling crept around him again, making his breathing quicken. It was cold…now the temperature was dropping as he started to walk faster, unsure of where he was heading. He just had to get away from it, whatever it was. Come to think of it, where was he heading? He had just left his house without planning on where to go or what to do. He didn't know this area that well…

It was behind Him. Something grabbed his shoulder, cold-frozen fingers, making him stop for a few seconds before he took off at a run, not even bothering to apologize to the people he hit along the way, even the lady he accidently knocked over. His breathing stopped as soon as those hands touched his shoulder a second time, cutting off his air supply. He tried to run faster, but no matter how fast he ran, it wouldn't leave him and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't breathe.

After running so long, he finally stopped, hyperventilating, grabbing the closest thing near him to keep himself from falling over. He couldn't get away. How was he going to get back home with that thing following? He couldn't even see it, but he knew it was there, watching, waiting for him to start moving again. His breathing was becoming more rapid, why? He wasn't sure. It just keep going faster, not giving him a chance to get a proper breath of air.

"Ken?"

That voice. He look around, rapidly, trying to spot a familiar face. Finally he saw the one that had spoken to him, his face twisted in worry.

"Ken, what's wrong?" Yamato asked, putting down the grocery bag he had once he was next to Ken.

Ken couldn't answer. His breathing was too rapid to give the time to form coherent words.

"Okay, lean forward," he said, dropping down in front.

Ken did what he said, but instead fell to his knees, no doubt getting some questioning glances from those around them. Yamato put his hands on Ken's shoulders, startling him a bit. But his touch was warm, not cold.

"Look at me. I want you to take a deep breath in and out. Follow my pace, okay?" he said. Ken nodded slowly, unsure if it was going to help or not. "Okay. Slowly, now IN…..Out."

He tried following Yamato's pace, having difficulty in doing so, but Yamato rubbed his back as he turned to his side, placing one hand on Ken's chest, while Ken's hand gripped his. He kept telling Ken to breathe in and out until he had finally calmed down. A group had gathered around them by then, mainly people worried if Ken was okay, either having heard of him or having their daughters squeal over pictures or news of him. A sad form of recognition, and an even sadder reason for people to pretend to care.

"I'm…okay," he managed, still keeping Yamato's pace in breathing.

He finally stood up, a little shaky, but okay. Yamato stood up next, picking up his groceries as he did so.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just a little panicky," Ken said, starting to walk slowly. Yamato kept next to him. Ken didn't think he really would with the groceries in his hand. "Where are you going?"

"I was going home, but right now, I have to make sure that you're going to be okay. That was a scare. Why were you panicking?"

"Haven't you felt it?" he asked a little harshly than intended. "There's a bad presence looming around. It decided to play around with me right now."

He stayed quiet, not that he expected him to respond. Wait. Why was Ken acting like this all the sudden?

"If you don't understand it, then you might as well leave me alone." Where did that come from?

"Look Ken, I'm not looking to pick a fight with you. It's just that Gabumon got that feeling, too. He went back to the digital world recently to check it out on that end. Biyomon went, too."

He stopped. He wasn't the only one with this bad feeling, that's good. He wasn't alone. He had been afraid he was the only one. He let his expression loosen. What was making him act like that?

"Has he had nightmares too?"

"No, but I have. But I don't think you're counting the ones where I'm cooking while taking an exam and my paper ended up getting burned," he said, unsure of himself, trying to get Ken to laugh. It worked a little.

"No. I don't mean those."

"Come on, we can talk at my house, okay?"

They began to walk towards Yamato's home. Ken's arm had been on Yamato's lightly because he was afraid he'd start to panic again. That feeling was still there, but it wasn't as strong. It totally dissipated once they were inside the apartment. He was getting confused. But Ken couldn't talk to him as he looked at him put away what he had in the bags.

He was the only one in the group with the most empathy. He understood what Ken had gone through, sort of. They hadn't grown that close, but they understood enough of each other. Maybe that was why Yamato didn't press on when Ken didn't start talking.

"So," he said, after the long silence we had. "What kind of nightmares are these? The regular ones or the ones that haunt you even after you wake up?"

"Both, actually."

They were quiet once again. Neither cared about the silence, as long as they didn't say the wrong things.

"I—They just—" Ken started, but found himself looking at deep-set blue eyes.

"You look really tired. Maybe you'll feel better when you've slept well," he said. "Um, my dad'll be home later on. What time is it now? It's barely one. Why don't you go to sleep for a while, then my dad will take you home."

"I guess," he said. Yamato wandered out of the room and ken just lied down on the couch, already drifting to sleep.

(((0.0)))

He was running…from what, he couldn't remember…who was it? He turned a corner, one second he's in the human world, then the digital world. He turned another corner. It's a dream plain. Somewhere in the middle.

He turned around and sees him, but his eyes were blinded by a web of some kind. He can't get it off! There was something coming, he could hear it. Cold hands grabbed his legs, pulling him down somewhere. He fought it as hard as he could, only feeling his energy escaping him the more he struggled. Pain shot up his back. It was burning. What the hell was touching him!

His breath was gone, he couldn't breathe! Can't even hear any of his screams anymore. Was he dying? He can't die!

(((0.0)))

How do you like so far? Honesty is good. No shonen-ai yet, but later, okay? Don't throw rocks or anything! Review.

See you next chapter!