Trigger warning: This collection will include bloodshed, language, violence, implied self-harm, death, and attempted suicide. I don't encourage any of this, but I respect everyone on here, and will always put a warning at the top of any chapter that could possibly be triggering.

a/n: This takes place during/after my story, "Hell over Me." So it will not make any sense if you have not read that. There are so many things that were left (although purposefully) unresolved in HoM, and I'd like to go back and fix that! Shout out to Green Spaghetti, because this probably would not be up if it weren't for you; and ToastyToaster22 for being so supportive about this! Enjoy everybody, and thank you for reading!

setting: between ch 23-24

Yamato did not want to sit still.

He did not want to be in the digital world, let alone in Gennai's house. The only place he wanted to be was by Takeru's side. He wanted to be there when Takeru woke up. He could not stand the idea of Takeru waking up in a hospital, afraid and alone.

(Except he was not alone. His parents were there. But this did little to comfort Yamato. He was not there. And he should be.)

A furious tic started in his jaw, almost like a bomb ready to explode. He drummed his fingers against his pant leg, mind whirling, body itching with the desire to run out of this stupid place and back to the hospital.

A warm paw clasped around his right shoulder. "He's going to be ok, Yamato."

Yamato glared at the speaker with red-webbed eyes, but Gabumon's expression was so tender that his boiling anger died down to a simmer. He tore his gaze away. Muttered, "I don't want to be here."

On his left side, Sora squeezed his knee in an attempt to comfort him. "We know."

Maybe she didn't know. Sora wasn't there. She didn't see Takeru jump. She didn't see Piemon or his servants. She didn't hear Sakauchi's voice—mixed with his brother's—when Takeru had been possessed.

But she did see the blood. She saw how pale and thin and dead Takeru looked, draped over Yamato's shoulders like a human backpack.

"Gabumon's right," she murmured, her voice now tentative. "Gennai said this wouldn't take long."

Yamato scowled at the door behind which Gennai was currently located. "I'll give him fifteen minutes."

It was like a funeral—grave faces and awkward silence. But no one was crying. Not anymore, at least.

Yamato had not slept more than an hour in the past thirty-six hours. After his parents had rushed Takeru to the hospital, everyone who battled against Piemon was briefly looked over. Takeru was quickly stabilized—he was severely dehydrated, Jou's father had said. It didn't help that Yamato did not know the last time Takeru got a good night's sleep. Nor did he know the last time Takeru had a good meal, because he hadn't finished the one Yamato cooked up last night.

He fought back a shudder as he thought about the feeling of Takeru's blood smeared across his own clothes. His father made a trip home to grab him a change of fresh, clean clothes—the ones he was presently wearing—while they were at the hospital but the feeling was difficult to shake off.

He risked a quick glance in Hikari's direction. She, too, had changed into a new set of clothes; and she was dozing slightly, leaning against Taichi's shoulder with Tailmon sitting wearily on the floor next to her. Patamon was curled up in Hikari's lap, as reluctant to leave Takeru's side as Yamato had been, but he was somehow seeking comfort in Hikari's presence.

Alongside Yamato's frustration and anger was confusion. Takeru's and Hikari's souls and crests had literally combined and they did not understand the full magnitude of what that meant. He knew Takeru was going to need a long time to recover before he started talking about what transpired. Even if Takeru was physically and mentally healthy enough to be here, Hikari still looked exhausted. She had collapsed the moment they got back to Earth.

"Your soul was damaged, Hope."

"A part of Light's soul resides within his body. You are connected even in death."

Yamato tried to stifle another shudder.

His gaze swam around the room. Mimi sat with her knees pulled up to her chest across from Yamato, Palmon sitting faithfully by her side. Jou was staring anxiously at the door with a sleeping Gomamon in his lap. Ken was clutching Wormmon to his chest, leaning against a wall that was all glass, dividing the room from the lake that surrounded Gennai's house. Ken's eyes were fluttering as though he was ready to give into slumber.

Yamato was not sure if anybody besides Hikari had slept at all. Regardless, everyone else looked tired, confused, and doubtful; and they had every right to be. They were all waiting for an explanation. But it was Takeru and Hikari's story to tell, and all Hikari had told them was, "It's over."

Daisuke rubbed his eye, a frown on his face. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet when he asked, "Is Gennai coming back out, or not?"

As if on cue, the door opened and Gennai stepped through. Around him, people began to perk up, but Yamato's automatic instinct was to glare at the being keeping him from his younger brother.

Gennai noticed this immediately and released a long-suffering sigh as he looked directly into Yamato's eyes. "I know you are angry. I'm sorry to pull you away—"

"My brother is hooked up to a bunch of machines in another dimension and I don't know when he will wake up," Yamato said lowly, seething. "And you dragged me here to 'talk about the disturbances.' What if he wakes up all alone, huh? He needs me right now. Yeah, I'm pretty pissed."

Sora squeezed his knee again, trying to soothe him. But Yamato didn't care if he was being rude.

"Hurry up and spit it out, so we can go home," he hissed.

Gennai frowned and was silent only for a heartbeat. "All right. As you would have guessed, the...order to the digital world has been restored. But..."

Yamato's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"The presence I felt all night," he hedged, "was...familiar. One of the Dark Masters."

A collective intake of breath erupted through the room. Hikari whispered, "It was Piemon."

It was the first time she had spoken since she fainted in Taichi's arms several hours ago. Next to her, Tailmon went stiff, but she did not say a word. Patamon's eyes were strangely cold and detached, just like Hikari's voice.

"...only Piemon?"

"Yes," Hikari said quietly.

Yamato scoffed, his fingers curled into fists and he clenched his teeth. Was this all Gennai wanted? To know the source of the disturbances and then confirm that it had been disposed of correctly? Gennai always had a habit of sneaking up when they least expected it, already knowing everything that they did and were going to do. He had been like that since Yamato was eleven years old. And now, over six years later, he suddenly did not know anything?

(Even Koushiro knew better than to ask questions at a time like this. And Koushiro always had questions.)

"You're...sure?"

"You said so yourself that all order had been restored. Isn't that enough proof?" Yamato rounded on him.

"Whoa, whoa, wait," Daisuke said, and he looked at an exhausted Ken as he spoke. "You mean, like, the Dark Masters you told us about all those years ago? That Piemon?"

Yamato pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am not in the mood for this."

"I understand that you are frustrated," Gennai told him. "I just... want to know what happened—"

"I can't tell you what happened," Yamato snapped. "Not right now, not without Takeru. You're going to have to wait, ok? Especially because he and Hikari—"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hikari grow stiff. He stopped, looking down at the floor, still seething. Eventually finished with, "...it's not my story. So leave it be, will you?"

"...I see." Gennai's expression was grim. His eyes then landed on Hikari, but he stayed silent for a few more achingly long moments.

"Was... was it really that bad?" Miyako whispered with wide, glossy eyes before Gennai could speak again. "We saw the blood but..."

She trailed off, and there was no answer, not at first. Hikari hugged Patamon close as though he was her own partner, and Yamato swore he saw a slight tremor in her fingers when she used her other hand to pet Tailmon, who pressed herself against Hikari. "Takeru died."

It was like somebody had fired a gun. Everything was still, and no one dared to breathe.

Then came the response:

Bug eyes. Paralytic terror. Confusion. Tears. Gasps. Pure, all-consuming shock. Patamon looked ready to cry, and Taichi's arm around Hikari's shoulder tightened visibly. Ken, Mimi, and Jou were all looking away with unreadable expressions.

"...wh-what?" Daisuke breathed out in horror.

Yamato worked his jaw. He twitched as an unwanted image of Takeru stepping off the roof of Piemon's house as though there was another step to catch him crossed his mind. And then, they just kept coming:

Takeru lying bloody and unresponsive in his arms; Takeru laughing a laugh that did not belong him; Takeru (not Takeru) pushing Yamato down to to the ground, taunting him; taunting all of them...

"You should have heard him scream."

Never had he wanted to leave the digital world so badly. It did not matter what the doctors had said. Yamato needed to get out of here so he could see his brother for himself. Needed to hear the heart monitor, needed to see him breathing.

"Piemon did such awful things to him," Hikari said in the same low, wobbly voice. The tears in her eyes did not fall. "There are not words."

"...I was afraid of that," Gennai started, not without sympathy.

Something in Yamato snapped.

"Do you know what it's like?" he shouted, slamming his hands down onto the wooden floor panels so hard that it sent tingling pinpricks of pain up his fingers. "To have your little brother die in your arms? Do you know how terrifying that is? To see him bleed out, the way I did?"

"Yamato—" Gabumon began quietly.

"No," he went on viciously, shaking his head with a laugh that was empty; "you don't know. You don't know anything. And I know that you're curious, because this is your world, and you like to know what happens in it, but...this is not where I should be right now. I'm leaving."

He pushed himself off the floor with so much haste that he almost stumbled. Shook off Sora's delicate hand and Gabumon's comforting, soft paw.

"I knew he was gone," Gennai said, making Yamato freeze in his place.

He whirled around, pinning Gennai with icy blue eyes. "What?"

"His crest was...dead," he went on. "Usually, when a crest is inactive, it still has...some semblance of energy, hidden somewhere deep inside. But in the crest of Hope, all traces of that energy were gone. But then..."

His eyes found Hikari. She did not look up to meet his curious stare.

Realization struck Yamato like he'd been tossed into a cold pool of water. Of course. He wanted to know about Hikari and Takeru's combined crest. Their souls merged. As far as Yamato knew, that had never happened before. Gennai must have sensed it, just as he had sensed Piemon's presence.

But it wasn't like Hikari had the answers that Gennai wanted. Their crests disappeared the moment they returned to Earth. And Takeru was nowhere near ready to share his side of the story, damn it.

"Hikari?" Gennai pressed quietly. Patiently.

"Not right now," she muttered hollowly. "I want to wait until Takeru is better. It seems wrong if he is not here."

"She's right," Tailmon added in a tense whisper. "It would not be respectful to talk about him behind his back like that."

"Besides," Patamon said, ears drooping as he echoed Yamato's thoughts: "The crests are gone now."

Yamato's eyes narrowed. Gennai fell silent for a few suspended moments. His expression had been wiped clean, and he gave a brief nod. Repeated, "I see."

"Can we go now?" Yamato hissed through gritted teeth.

A long pause. Gennai said, "Yes."

Gennai said something else, but Yamato was already heading out the door. Gabumon became a small ball of light, signaling that he was evolving, and he did not wait for any of his friends to catch up. His mounted Garurumon, hands gripping his fur tightly as they ascended the stairs, trying to find a portal.

It was stupid to ride on Garurumon's back through the city of Odaiba. They attracted so much unwanted attention. But the only thing on his mind getting to the hospital, and it would have taken three times as long if he walked.

Takeru was not awake yet, his parents told him. Yamato was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Regardless, he ran across the room, dumping himself into the chair beside Takeru's hospital bed with the grace of a six-year-old, and slipped his hand into his little brother's. Squeezed. Brushed stray hairs out of Takeru's eyes.

Whispered gently, "I'm back."

And he waited.