Chapter 1

The immaculate room was crystal clear, with nice right angles and simple colors that should have been easy to focus on, but Kagami could barely see anything as he was ushered through the doors, his feet forgetting their primary function to move him forward at the moment. He was in shock, already, by what he'd heard, but when he laid eyes on the unnaturally still, unnaturally fragile form on the single cot in the hospital room, it was like everything shut down. All he could hear was the monotone beep of the heart monitor, when he wasn't sure if his own heart was even beating; all he could see was the clear plastic tubes under the deathly still person's nose, aiding his breathing, when he couldn't even remember what air was supposed to feel like in his lungs.

How did it come to this…? The thought was fragmented, like a fumbled stone skittering across the spotless linoleum floor. ...How did I not see this?

Something was clamping down on his stomach, clenching viciously until he wondered if he would throw up, and he took a numb, staggering step closer to the bed, bracing a hand against the clean white sheets, but unable to bring himself to touch the unconscious patient lying there.

Aomine….How did you do this to yourself?

He was motionless; with the blurring of Kagami's vision it was impossible to tell if his chest was even rising or falling. He might have been dead. In fact, he very easily could have been, judging from what the nurse had chattered in his ear before bringing him in here. Just words, mostly stupid, meaningless questions like "You were his emergency contact; are you a relative?", and "Do you know how to administer naloxone in the event of an overdose?", but snippets of her brief explanation drifted back to him now, unearthed from his stagnant mind. Passed out...almost stopped his heart...coma for two days….

….Coma for two days….coma...

Unbelievable. Impossible. For three years, Aomine had been so meticulous with his deadly habit, so wary of the devil he danced with every day, making sure not to slip up even once. He knew what the stakes were, for courting his "girl", he knew the dangers….and somehow he had reassured Kagami that it would still be alright. He had soothed almost every worry; "I feel fine," "I'm tough; my body's in peak condition," "the track marks will go away eventually,"...

Even where he was lying now, the tube hooked up to the IV embedded in his hand passed right by the still-outraged flesh at the crease of his elbow; past the inflamed, crusted veins into which he'd daily shoved a different kind of needle. It occurred to Kagami sluggishly that Aomine had lied. Perhaps about all of it…. And that made him feel contaminated, like he'd given away something precious only to find it smashed to bits in a dumpster the next day. He'd trusted Aomine...he hadn't been given a choice, and he decided he would have preferred if it had been himself who had to pay the price.

This helpless feeling as he stood beside the person he loved, not knowing if he would ever see him open his beautiful deep blue eyes again, was worse than any hell that could have been unleashed on his body and soul.

TBC