Reborn is watching Yamamoto when he comes to.
It's a slow process, rising from the depths of exhausted unconsciousness into the aching reality of existence. Yamamoto can feel every bruise deep under his skin, the sharp-edged pain of too many cuts to even count them all. But the room smells like antiseptic, and he's wrapped in bandages instead of coated in blood, and those are both a comfort even before he turns his head to see Reborn staring at him.
"Yo, little guy." he offers. His throat is rough, the sound comes out a little more ragged than he intends, but at least it's audible. "What happened?"
"Welcome back," Reborn says with the oddly mature intonation he is fond of using. He clasps his hands in his lap, just under the oversized weight of the pacifier around his neck. "You and Gokudera were getting destroyed by Millefiore." He sounds unconcerned, just stating facts without any emotional judgment laid over them. "Then Hibari joined the fight. He saved your lives."
"Our lives?" Yamamoto tries to sit up. This is a mistake. The pain that bursts up his spine is enough to flatten him to the mattress, to wipe out every thought in his head with white-hot agony before he can even identify the source of the hurt. "Ow."
"You probably shouldn't try to move," Reborn comments as Yamamoto subsides back to the bed. "You were quite badly injured."
"Yeah," Yamamoto says, grinning sheepishly instead of risking a laugh. "What about Gokudera? Is he okay?"
"He hasn't woken up yet," Reborn says, and everything in Yamamoto goes cold and still for a moment before he continues, "But he's stable. It should just be a matter of time, now."
"Oh." It's a tiny sound, to be so weighted with relief. Yamamoto looks away from Reborn's unblinking stare and up to gaze at the ceiling instead; his eyes are burning with oncoming tears, but he's not sure he's ready to risk lifting a hand to cover his expression, and besides Reborn doesn't seem particularly alarmed by the show of emotion. "I'm glad."
"Were you worried?" Reborn prompts.
"Yeah." Yamamoto takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. It feels good to breathe, even if it aches all across his ribcage when he does so. "I mean, I guess not while I was unconscious. But before. During the fight."
Reborn stays quiet, doesn't push Yamamoto to talk, but he's not leaving, either, just staring at him like he can see straight into his thoughts. And Yamamoto's aching with more than just physical pain; there's guilt there, too, the unpleasant aftertaste of words intended to hurt more than to help, all the pent-up things he should have said instead of those he did, the things he thought about between his slow-motion heartbeats while he listened to Gokudera getting beaten behind him.
"I was awful to him," he admits. "I said a lot of horrible things and then when I was lying there all I could think about was all the things I should have said instead. Those might have been the last things I said to him, after all. And I was telling him how selfish and stubborn he is and he is but I love that about him, I love him, and I should have just said that instead, because what if we were gonna die right there?"
It occurs to him, distantly, that this is probably more information than Reborn might want to hear. Yamamoto's not actually sure if Reborn knows about he and Gokudera's sometimes-relationship, the one that goes well beyond the borders of friendship. He's always just kind of assumed the other was aware, the way he always seems to know everything about everyone.
Yamamoto risks a glance to the side. Reborn is still smiling faintly, still watching him, but he's not speaking or withdrawing at all. Maybe he's asleep. All the better, then; it's nice to have someone to talk to, even if he's not paying attention to what Yamamoto is saying.
"I was just so upset," he continues after a moment, turning to look back at the ceiling. "I know Gokudera doesn't like trusting people, and I know sometimes he tells me to go away but doesn't really mean it, and I want to be there for him even if he thinks he doesn't need me. But it was like he hated me, all of a sudden, like it was back to the first day we met except worse." He sighs. "But I shouldn't have said what I did. It was just - he looked so cold, and I hate when he looks at me like that. I guess he didn't really mean it because later he wasn't mad, when I helped him, but I didn't really save him at all in the end. It's okay, though." Yamamoto takes another of those deep, slow breaths, lets the shape of the air linger on his tongue so it carries away the tension of unsaid truths with it. "I can tell him, now, when he wakes up."
"You're not as stupid as everyone thinks you are," Reborn says.
Yamamoto twists his head to look at him. "I thought you were asleep."
"You shouldn't take things for granted." Reborn gets to his feet. On the chair, and with Yamamoto flat on his back, he's looking down at the other for the first time Yamamoto can remember. "I'm going to check on Gokudera and see if he's awake."
"Ah." Yamamoto can feel his cheeks go warm, a faint edge of embarrassment creeping into his features. "Don't tell him what I said, okay?"
Yamamoto thinks he can see Reborn's smile flicker wider, just for a moment, before he tips his chin down so his hat casts his face in shadow. "Of course."
"Thanks." Yamamoto watches Reborn hop off the chair, waits until he's made it to the door and out into the hallway before he looks back up at the ceiling. There's nothing to see but white, but it's nice to have something to stare at while he waits for Gokudera to wake up and thinks about what he's going to say to him when he does.