Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Yami no Matsuei, thank you very much.
That's What Love Is For
"That's what love is for,
To help us through it;
That's what love is for,
Nothing else can do it–
Melt our defenses,
Bring us back to our senses,
Give us strength to try once more–
Baby, that's what love is for."
–That's What Love Is For,
Amy Grant
"Tsuzuki, I told you before: you are absolutely forbidden from cooking for me. Got it?"
"Aw, but 'Sookaaaa," Tsuzuki whined.
Hisoka eyed the frilly apron like one might a rabid hyena, even as he lie propped on pillows in his bed. Tsuzuki refused to let him move from the position when he was around. "No. Absolutely not."
"Hisoka, I wanna help!"
Hisoka just sighed. It had been like this ever since he'd been released from the medical ward and allowed back in his apartment. His partner had been hounding after him ever since, seemingly glued to his shadow, as if leaving Hisoka alone would result in the boy's death. Or another abduction.
He'd at least gotten Tsuzuki to leave him alone at night by claiming the pills given to him by the doctor helped him sleep.
Lies. He was getting tired of them.
But if Tsuzuki knew the truth, he wouldn't get a minute of rest.
"Hisoka," Tsuzuki tried again, "I can cook a couple of things; let me help!"
"Tsuzuki, you can cook plenty of things – all of them inedible. Besides, I have plenty of soup, and that's the perfect get-well-soon food. And I can cook."
"But you shouldn't!" Tsuzuki disparaged. "You're recovering."
"Oi, oi," Hisoka muttered. "But how could I possibly get any rest with you here, anyway?"
"Wah, that's so mean!"
Why was Tsuzuki holding a ladle, anyway? Just what the hell had the man planned on cooking?! "And get out of that apron. It looks ridiculous on you."
"But this is perfect for the kitchen, don't you think?" And, horror of horrors, Tsuzuki twirled in it like a girl might in her prom dress.
Hisoka couldn't help it. He dropped his face into his hand. "Anyway, Tsuzuki," he mumbled through his palm before letting it slip back down, "how's the clean-up going of that building Muraki'd housed me in? Have they found traces of Serendipity and the others?"
Because of what Muraki had done to them, the batch of girls the man had killed had had their souls completely destroyed, leaving only a small fragment of their emotions. He remembered Serendipity's form, nothing more than a silvery blob, and felt pain clench his chest tight. Despite her abandonment, he'd never wanted anything like that to happen to her – or to anyone.
"Ah, no." Tsuzuki suddenly had a hard time looking him in the eye. Hisoka didn't even need his empathy to know that Tsuzuki couldn't remember that experience without a freaking avalanche of guilt burying him. "They haven't found them. Honestly, Hisoka... they don't think they ever will. They can't, you know? To those without your ability, there's nothing there."
He sighed. "I should go out there," he began, not for the first time, but Tsuzuki cut him off with another vehement no.
"Absolutely not, Hisoka! You're still recovering! And besides – besides, even if you hadn't gotten hurt in that last mission, you're in no shape to do much of anything, especially not with that ability of yours!"
"I'm fine!" he shouted, a completely useless and blatant lie that, if Tsuzuki weren't such a nice person, would be mocked unrepentantly. As it was, Tsuzuki brushed it off like he hadn't even said it. Apparently he'd used it one too many times. "And it's not like I'm not dealing with it..." he said nervously. Shit. They'd strayed onto the topic.
It was of absolutely no surprise to him when Tsuzuki pounced. "Hisoka, when are you going to tell me about those burn marks I saw?"
He just sighed again. He'd been careless, letting Tsuzuki see that he got injured by his dreams these days. They'd burned him again the night he'd returned from the hospital, and just last night, his left wrist had been broken in the dream-Tsuzuki's grip. Thank goodness he was a Shinigami, and so had the ability to heal such injuries, or else he'd be absolutely screwed. But the healing was taking its toll; he was always weak, always tired, and more and more, it seemed to take longer for his body to heal. He knew very well that eventually he wouldn't be able to keep up with his body's need to heal. And when that time came, he would literally exhaust himself into nonexistence.
"Hisoka, you know I need to know this. I need to know how a dream could... could injure you like that. I've tried to be patient and wait you out, but..."
Yeah. But he had absolutely no intention of saying, so unless Tsuzuki just burst right into it, it would probably never get resolved.
"Tsuzuki," he said finally, and he propped himself up further in his bed and put down the unread book he'd been fiddling with off and on. Tsuzuki had him leaning back on about three pillows, one even lent to him by Tsuzuki from the man's own bed – which smelled very, very nice, by the way – and curled up in blankets. If he weren't so damn tired, he'd be pissed about the situation. "It's not really something I want to talk about."
"We're partners, Hisoka. We're supposed to look out for each other."
You already look out for me too much. "It's annoying," he said finally, surprising his partner. Tsuzuki, knowing he had finally gotten Hisoka to start, sat on the edge of the bed – stupid-ass apron and all. Hisoka glared at it. "It's annoying to constantly need to be protected." And to counteract the blush staining his cheeks, he snapped, "will you lose the damn apron?"
But Tsuzuki just smiled sadly at him and took it off. Hisoka could Feel Tsuzuki's emotions under strict control, as if the man was trying to not interfere with Hisoka's upcoming monologue in any way. Hisoka would never tell Tsuzuki, but whenever he did that... it just made Hisoka even more nervous, even more upset. He wanted to know how Tsuzuki felt about something. If he did, he would know more about what was acceptable to him and what was not... though it was humiliating to know that Tsuzuki's opinion affected him so much.
"So... so..." Hey, exactly where should he begin? At the scene that had caused the nightmares, or at the description of the nightmares itself, or just start listing dates? "So I hear Muraki's voice in these dreams," he blurted randomly, "but they aren't memories, they're... he's actually speaking to me. In the dreams. Literally. Like I'm having a conversation with him during the dream."
Despite himself, it seemed Tsuzuki let a bit of worry leak through that dam he'd put up. "But how is that possible?"
"I don't know," Hisoka said harshly. "But I think it's why he found our hotel room during the last mission. I'm not sure, but I think he can see me. Or a least that's how it feels." He definitely should have said something about this sooner.
It posed an interesting distraction from the nightmares. Tsuzuki actually got up from the bed and started pacing. It was unbelievable to watch – Tsuzuki never freaking paced. "What does he say?" Tsuzuki asked finally.
"Usually he's just mocking me," Hisoka told him, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. "Making fun of my... my inability to stop the events from happening."
"Events," Tsuzuki echoed, looking at Hisoka again and stopping his pacing. Shit. Back to the dream.
"Uh, that you always die." Hisoka's eyes fell down to the bed. He turned his gaze to the book he'd been pretending to read – why in hell had he picked Othello?
"Hisoka-"
"I know it never really happened, okay?!" he snapped, glaring down at his blankets. "I know you never actually died or anything – I'm not stupid! But..." And he unconsciously clutched his chest, feeling the phantom shadow of loss inside of him. "But I still Feel you fade away, no matter what I try to do – and I always get the chance to try something new, like I'm in control of myself but not the situation. I can't help it – every night, I feel you die."
"Hisoka."
He snapped his head up at the Feel of Tsuzuki's emotions; the dam just freaking broke, and Hisoka could Feel a myriad of emotions – sorrow, regret, hurt. Even for Hisoka, who was used to Feeling such things, they were so undeniably strong... "Tsuzuki, don't – this is why I didn't want to tell you – I knew you would react this way-"
"Hisoka, please tell me how to help you?" He made it a question as he returned to the bed, simply dropping the ladle to the floor. But instead of sitting on the bed, he knelt beside it and simply gazed into Hisoka's eyes from below, pleading with him.
Unfair.
Hisoka opened his mouth to state he was fine, but he stopped. They both knew it was a lie, and worse, it was a lie that could lead to his death – his nonexistence. He had to get help, and the only person he trusted to such an extent was Tsuzuki. He didn't have a choice.
"I..." I don't know how to do this – how could I possibly ask for help when I've constantly yelled at him to leave me alone?
It would be cruel, wouldn't it, to lean on him so much, over and over again? It would be an even more unbalanced relationship, and he'd never get the chance to live on-par with Tsuzuki as his partner. He was just Tsuzuki's side-kick, his tag-a-long. He couldn't let that continue.
But what... what could he do?
"Please, Hisoka." Tsuzuki's hands moved to rest on Hisoka's legs, clenched. "Tell me what to do?"
"I..." he tried again, and floundered. He didn't know; how could he? He didn't understand kindness yet. He was trying... he'd thought he'd learned – to protect, to care for, to nurture sometimes, like he had when Tsuzuki had lamented his lack of human genes. Hisoka felt his heart lurch – yes, he remembered that time, when Tsuzuki had collapsed into his arms. Was that... what he needed? A... warm embrace?
Like hell he'd ask for that.
"I'm just worried... about Muraki," he said, straying from the personal matters that he just plain couldn't get himself to talk about. How the hell did one go about asking for a... a hug? It sounded so childish. So pathetic and whiny.
No way in hell. He wouldn't be caught dead doing such a thing.
Pun one hundred percent not intended.
Tsuzuki didn't seem to buy it.
"If he can see us," Hisoka persisted, "or rather, if he can see me, then has he seen Meifu? Has he learned a way to get here? What if he does come? Or what if... what if we go out on another mission and he finds us again? I led him straight to the hotel before-"
"There's no proof of that," Tsuzuki tried.
"But it's a pretty big coincidence!" Hisoka argued right back. When did he start clutching his arms? And why was his head bowed so much? Tsuzuki's hands on his legs were warm and tense and Tsuzuki was looking up at Hisoka from below his bangs and he was frowning in concern. Shit. Now he felt guilty.
"Coincidences could be coincidences. You know Muraki – if he has the chance, he'll mess with your head just for sport."
Oh, he knew that, all right. "But what if...?"
"We'll take care of it. I'll call Tatsumi right now, have him start patrols. But I'll need you to report everything Muraki's been saying to you lately."
"He hasn't said anything," Hisoka whispered. "Not recently – not since we returned."
"That's right – because you haven't been having..." Tsuzuki's voice dwindled out. "But that's not what you meant, is it?"
He flinched. Well, that had been stupid.
"Hisoka."
Uh-oh. It was the Tsuzuki-is-pissed voice, that low, almost-polite growl. He looked up at Tsuzuki like one might their executioner. "Y-Yeah?"
"Dammit, Hisoka, what the hell is wrong with you?!"
He cringed; holy shit but Tsuzuki could be loud. "It's not-"
"You're still getting injured, aren't you?! What's happened? Dammit, Hisoka, how badly have you been burned?"
Tsuzuki just grabbed him and shook him, whipping his head back and forth. That broken dam roared in his head, a tidal wave of fear and anger and hurt. And betrayal. Shit.
"Tsuzuki – Tsuzuki, stop, I can't breathe!"
Tsuzuki backed off instantly, but the emotions still surged within him.
He took a few deep breaths, then just out and out said it. "I don't want to be protected by you, Tsuzuki!" The feelings of hurt and betrayal rose to a sort of crescendo. Hisoka felt guilt eat at his chest and tried to fix his words before it was too late. "I mean... it's not that..."
"Hisoka," Tsuzuki started. It sounded like he was trying to get Hisoka to stop – like he couldn't take hearing another accusation, and just wanted Hisoka to stop talking altogether.
"No! It's not like... I just feel like I'm constantly being protected by you, Tsuzuki. How can we be partners if I can't even protect myself?!" He felt tears in his eyes and was immensely glad he'd gone back to glaring at his sheets. How humiliating. "And now I can't even defeat these dreams. I can't even make them go away – why?! Why am I the only one who has these nightmares?!"
He Felt, more than saw, Tsuzuki reach out to touch him.
"I can't lose you again!" he snapped.
The hand froze in the air. Hisoka could see it now from the corner of his eye, hesitating just in that one spot, almost seeming to shiver in the hazy vision of his tears. He blinked them desperately back and tried for a calming breath. He hadn't meant to say that. But... since he had... maybe he should just go with it? "I-I... every night I try something different, as if maybe I could find a way... the one way to st-stop you..." Shit. He took another breath, swallowed hard. And bit his lip to the point of pain, only to try to stop the stuttering. "But it's always useless, no matter what I do... you always leave and enter the fire and I can't save you."
"Oh, Hisoka." And Tsuzuki slid up from his kneeling position and wrapped his arms around Hisoka, just as Hisoka had needed. Tsuzuki pulled him into his chest, tightly, until all he could see and smell was the older Shinigami and it was such a simple thing for him to wrap his arms around Tsuzuki's waist as Tsuzuki had wrapped his own around Hisoka's shoulders and it felt so good, so right, so perfect that it just hurt. "Hisoka, you did save me. I'm right here, safe and sound. I swear, Hisoka. I'm right here."
"Tsuzuki..." It was stupid to cry. Absolutely fucking stupid. "I-I'm sorry. I'll be fine in a minute-"
"Take all the time you need."
He just clutched Tsuzuki tighter and tried to get his tears under control. "Sorry," he mumbled again when he realized that Tsuzuki's shirt was getting soaked. "You should've kept that stupid apron on... then it would be the thing getting destroyed." He swallowed back a hiccup before it could escape – that would've been worse than crying, degrading to the point of hiccups and snuffles and sobs.
Tsuzuki laughed. "It's fine."
He wasn't sure just how long it took, but finally he could make sense of what he was Feeling from Tsuzuki, as if he'd had a radio on for hours but only just now began actively listening to the music. Tsuzuki Felt... calm. Happy? No. Content? Closer. But happy, too. Like he could stay like this for hours and hours, days and weeks. With Hisoka crying? No, there was still sadness and worry in there, but... he was definitely content right now. Why? How?
"Are you feeling a little better?"
"No," Hisoka responded petulantly. He sniffed. "I gotta blow my nose."
Tsuzuki just laughed again. "Hold on; I'll get you a tissue."
Hisoka was silent as Tsuzuki left the room. It had been stupid to cry on Tsuzuki like that. To talk about wanting to be on equal footing and then to fall on him like some sort of useless little girl... what was he thinking?
Tsuzuki returned, and Hisoka belatedly realized that he'd picked up the ladle on his way out of the room. "Here." He held out a tissue for Hisoka to take. "I called Tatsumi while I was out there; he said he'd take care of it and for you to just continue resting."
It was a silent minute that passed as he blew his nose and threw the used tissue into the wastebasket by the bed. He couldn't look back up at Tsuzuki. Instead he let his eyes drift over to Othello. Really, what had he been thinking?
"Hisoka. Tell me what happens in the dreams."
He tensed. Really, what the hell was Tsuzuki thinking? "It'll just upset you," he said.
"Hisoka, it upsets me now! All I know is that what I did is hurting you. I want – no, I need – to be able to help!"
Othello, Hisoka remembered, had fallen into doom from his own stupidity, his own inability to have faith. He sighed. "I... I always wake up in the fire, just away from it, watching it. And you're always in front of me. It used to be that you'd always ignore me no matter how loud I screamed..." Fucking hell, he was tearing up again. "And no matter what I said, you always just walked off, and then I would Feel you... I would Feel..." He found he had a very hard time saying it.
"Hisoka. I would never ignore you."
"Logic has nothing to do with it!" Hisoka shouted, his chest hurting. "I know you wouldn't abandon me, but I... still...! It doesn't matter when I can Feel it! I can Feel you disappear. I, every night, have to live through your death! Can you imagine it?! Can you possibly imagine how I..." Shit, what the hell was he saying?! He grabbed his head in his hands.
"Please, Hisoka. Continue?" Tsuzuki sat on the side of his bed again. "What happens now? What changed?"
Hisoka made doubly sure the tears in his eyes had disappeared before looking at Tsuzuki again. "You don't just walk away anymore."
Tsuzuki just blinked at him. "I don't? What do I do?"
He sounded freaking curious. "It – it depends." He looked back over to the wall. He needed to decorate more. There was only the painting that had been in here before he'd moved in, a really ugly abstract watercolor. Funny – that painting always put him on edge, oddly enough. Yeah. He should think about getting a different painting. "You do something slightly different every night now."
"Different? Like what?"
Should he say that last night Tsuzuki had grabbed his wrist when he'd reached out for the man and twisted it until it snapped, until he screamed? No, he didn't think that would be a particularly bright idea. And he probably shouldn't tell Tsuzuki about the dream he'd had while trapped by Muraki – the one in which Tsuzuki had tried to rape him. And had succeeded, until Hisoka had thrown the man into the fire himself. On accident, of course, but...
"Hisoka. What did I do?"
Oh, shit. He'd taken too long. "Uh, just... you would argue with me, yell at me. Mock me."
"Hisoka, I-"
"I know you wouldn't actually-"
"No! I mean, there's more to it than that. Right? That didn't get you burned."
Hisoka blushed. "Ah, that actually happened that time because I didn't move fast enough. I just... I just stayed there and didn't move, and then by the time I realized the smoke was too heavy, I couldn't move."
"That time?" Tsuzuki said carefully.
Ah, shit once again. "Well, I got burned a few times..."
"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki cried, "how could you hide that from me?! You could've been killed!"
Hisoka just scowled down at the book. Why, he asked himself randomly, did he even have the book Othello?
"What would I have done – how do you think I would have felt, coming to see you and finding out that you... that you no longer existed?!"
Hisoka flinched.
"Hisoka, I can't understand how you must have felt when I... when I tried to end my existence, but I understand now how you felt when Muraki had taken me away. I lost you, remember? I had to watch you being carried away by Muraki. I had to wonder if you'd been killed because I hadn't been able to save you. Don't you think it would be even worse for me if you were right here?!"
"I know. I know that." He had, after all, tried so hard to get Marie out of him, to survive her destroying his soul, just so that Tsuzuki didn't have to lose Hisoka while standing right in front of him.
"Then this is something you need to tell me about! You can't hide it-"
"I'm not! Not anymore! Because-" He cut himself off then, surprised that he would actually admit such a thing. Shit. Was he even more exhausted than he'd thought? He was, after all, blabbering shit he would never in his right mind let slip out.
"Because what? Because you feel guilty? You should! Do you have any idea how worried I've been all this time?!"
He didn't need to hear this. It hurt to imagine Tsuzuki worried every night, unable to sleep, just because he was trying to cope on his own.
"I've been terrified for you! We're partners, Hisoka, can't you understand that? More, you're my friend."
Hisoka felt a very, very painful flash of pure agony.
"I can't help but worry about you. Especially... during your recoveries, you were able to sleep so peacefully, and the effect of such sleep was obvious – you got more flushed, less pale, and you were able to stand without holding a hand to your head like you're doing right now, like you're dizzy or you have a headache."
Hisoka dropped his hand.
"And then we go out on a mission and you're obviously struggling, but you won't let yourself lean on anyone, even though everyone here would be willing to help you-"
Hisoka leaned forward, slamming his hands down on his comforter. "Of course I wouldn't! Always, always I'm protected by everybody else! It's like I can't do anything on my own! And that's not why I'm telling you now! I know that you worry; you always worry! You worry about everyone but yourself – I'm telling because I'm sc...! Dammit, Tsuzuki, stop making me say shit!"
They both just stared at each other in surprise for a few moments.
"You're scared?" Tsuzuki whispered finally, leaning in as well, until their hands, where they rested on the covers, almost touched. "Of what?"
Shit, shit, shit! He pulled away and moved his hand before he gave into temptation and grabbed Tsuzuki's. "No, it's-"
"Don't you pull away now," Tsuzuki growled.
He sighed and just fucking gave up. "You'll get angry. Again."
Tsuzuki considered this. "What did you do?" he asked after about a minute of silence.
Hisoka glared hotly at him. "Why do I have to have done something?"
Tsuzuki just grinned at him half-repentantly. "Well?" he pressed.
"Nothing." He struggled to get out from underneath the covers. "Nothing, forget I said anything. God, I'm hungry."
"No. Don't move. I'll fix you a bowl of soup, but we're having this out, right here, right now."
He cocked an eyebrow. "We can't have anything out when you're in the kitchen and I'm here in the bedroom."
Tsuzuki glared at him, but in the end he acceded the point. "Fine," he huffed. "Come out to the kitchen. But keep yourself wrapped in those covers," he ordered. "And you'll be sitting down the entire time. And if I think for one second that you're feeling dizzy or something, you're coming back to bed and getting your food in here. And I'll be helping you eat it."
Hisoka made a mental note not to touch his forehead in any way.
So it was like a toddler that he traipsed his way after Tsuzuki into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around him like a toga. It was pathetic that he was actually tired from the trip. He hadn't been allowed a lot of exercise yet, on doctor's orders, but still. This was ridiculous. And despite his best efforts, he still huffed out a small breath of relief when he sat tiredly in one of the kitchen chairs. Tsuzuki shot him a sharp look, one of mixed concern and anger. He just shrugged.
"Well?" Tsuzuki asked again, not letting up at all. He moved over to the cabinets. From previous visits, Tsuzuki had learned the basic layout of the room, and he pulled out a small pan and a bowl and spoon, putting the first on the stove and the others in front of Hisoka.
"Don't forget the milk," Hisoka mumbled, and looked at the bowl a bit distrustingly.
"I know. Chicken noodle?"
"Ah, tomato, please." He poked the spoon, half-bored, half hoping to put off the interrogation for a few more seconds. He really, really should have kept his mouth shut. Funny – he was usually the one good at that, while Tsuzuki had the tendency to blurt out stupid things. Ah – he was too tired to care.
"Well?" the man asked again, like a dog with a fucking bone.
"Nothing," he grumbled.
"Hisoka," Tsuzuki warned.
He shook his head and scooted the bowl and spoon away to make room for his head as he rested it on the table. He just couldn't keep himself awake for more than a few hours a day anymore. Tsuzuki had thought it due to his lack of proper rest for the past months, but Hisoka knew it was something much more serious than that. "Ah, it's nothing."
Tsuzuki was silent for a moment. "How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" he asked quietly.
"Four," Hisoka said without thinking.
"Four. Is that the normal number?"
"Mm-hm."
"For how long?"
Hisoka made a vague sound of indefiniteness. Then, with a small groan, he pushed himself up again. Shit. If he fell asleep, he would dream. He would get hurt again – best to just go without sleep. "I guess since the scenes changed. Since you no longer ignored me."
Tsuzuki seemed to have put the soup into the pan, because there were scraping sounds that told Hisoka that Tsuzuki was stirring something.
"Hisoka."
Damn. Back on-topic. Tsuzuki, that tenacious bastard. "Uh-huh."
Another very short silence. "It isn't like you to speak like that, Hisoka."
Saying 'uh-huh' instead of 'yeah' or 'yes.' "I know."
Stir, stir. The sound scraped at the odd silences, stretching them out a bit too long. "You're scaring me, Hisoka."
"...I know."
He could Feel the panic rising inside of his partner, but there wasn't much for it. "Ts... Tsuzuki...?"
"Yes?"
"Can I..." He cursed mentally and stared down at the table where he'd been blindly resting his head. "I think... I'm going to fade soon."
The ladle clanged against the pot. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, Tsuzuki twist to him. "Wha..." the man breathed, and the panic warped until it ate Hisoka up from the inside. There was absolutely no barrier – Tsuzuki's fear was too great for him to control. "No! Hisoka-"
He hunched into himself a bit. "I can't make the nightmares go away," he said. "And the injuries get worse... and I get closer to dying each time. I don't know if I can die in the dreams, but I can feel myself... getting weaker. Every day." By the time he was done, his voice was a mere breath.
"No. No, Hisoka." Tsuzuki came up to him, soup wholly forgotten, and knelt in front of him, twisting his chair around and grabbing Hisoka's hands. Tsuzuki's were shaking. Badly. "No. You can't."
Hisoka sighed. "I'm warning you, because I made a promise and I might break it."
"That doesn't matter – that's not what – Hisoka, you can't." His grip tightened until it almost hurt. "You can't fade, you can't leave. Not now, not after everything we've been through. Not because of this! I'll save you," he swore, suddenly so fierce that it made Hisoka shiver. "I'll save you, no matter what."
Hisoka sighed. "That's... Tsuzuki, do you remember? There was one time when you slept... with me." He flushed. "I'm... I'm desperate, Tsuzuki. I don't want to fade." He wouldn't say he was scared again, but Tsuzuki saw it nonetheless and squeezed his hands in comfort. "I'm willing to try anything. Tsuzuki... I need..."
"I'll stay," Tsuzuki said. "I'll grab my things and come right over, okay? We'll get through this, Hisoka."
"But what if..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't. It was too horrifying for words. What if it never left? What if, every night, he had to fight against the nightmares? Would he have to deal with them for the rest of eternity? He'd thought that facing them down would make them fade over time, that eventually they would begin to fade away, just like every other nightmare. But they never did. Instead they only got worse. And worse. He didn't want to be a burden to Tsuzuki, but he was even more terrified of fading away, of leaving Tsuzuki. Not only leaving the man alone, but... selfishly... he wanted to stay next to Tsuzuki forever. But at this rate...
"We'll get through it, Hisoka." Tsuzuki pressed his fingers again, but Hisoka could Feel the fear kept under tight rein. Tsuzuki was scared, too. It made him want to apologize again. It made him want to say the words he'd sworn never to voice, the three words that could destroy their partnership. More, he wanted to ask Tsuzuki just how deeply his own feelings ran.
"The soup," he whispered, and let Tsuzuki's hand slip from his; let those purple eyes turn their attention to more mundane matters and let the chance to speak the words fade away.
The soup, under Hisoka's guidance, was spared from Tsuzuki's usual lack of skill and ended up being quite good. When Hisoka had smiled a small praise, Tsuzuki had beamed. The man was so easily satisfied sometimes.
Then Tsuzuki had hustled him back to his bedroom and ushered him into bed, replacing the bedspread that Hisoka had wrapped around himself like a cocoon. With the assurance that he would return shortly, he told Hisoka to relax and wait for his return.
For nothing better to do, Hisoka picked up Othello and tried again to read the text, but it was just not what he wanted to read, and nothing terribly interesting was happening, and he'd already read it... "'My story being done,'" he read, trying to care about what Othello was saying, "'she gave me for my pains a world of sighs'... what's a world of sighs?" he mumbled. "How can a world be made up of sighs? And how can this be a good thing? Ah... 'she gave me for my pains a world of sighs; she swore, in faith, 'twas strange, 'twas passing strange'... ah, these people spoke so weird... ''twas passing strange, 'twas pitiful, 'twas...'
"Tsuzuki!"
"You again." He didn't sound surprised, but rather annoyed. Hisoka, if he weren't fed to the brim with the panic that always accompanied these dreams, would be annoyed, too.
"Tsuzuki, for once... just once... please just listen to me."
But he didn't listen, and once again Hisoka inevitably found himself being pushed to the ground with the fire blazing around him, and he found himself too weak to stand. Tsuzuki glared down at him, his posture one of a bully after having flushed a nerd. "Burn," Tsuzuki said, voice cruel, and turned and walked away.
"Wait... Tsuzu..."
"Hisoka!"
He flinched at the sound; it didn't belong here – Tsuzuki's voice, loud, filled with fear. He felt the fire grab his arm, Felt Tsuzuki begin to fade away... he struggled to stand, to get away, but his arms just didn't support him and he collapsed, defeated, to the ground. The fire grabbed his legs.
"Hisoka, wake up! Wake up!"
He felt someone shake him even though no one was around and sighed in relief. The real Tsuzuki had finally come for him. He would be safe now.
"Tsuzuki," he muttered, and let himself fall away from the room of fire, just as Dream-Tsuzuki did the same, just as permanently as he did in every dream.
"Hisoka!"
He let his eyes flutter open. Tsuzuki was hovering over him on the bed, eyes wide in panic. He smiled up at him. "Hey."
"H-Hisoka. Thank God." And Tsuzuki fell on top of him, crushing him into a hug. He gasped at the sudden weight, then again, in pain. Tsuzuki pushed off of him then. "You're burned again, Hisoka."
"Ah. My arm... legs." He looked at them; true enough, there were severe burns on them. They were beginning to heal already, though. He closed his eyes again. God, he was so tired...
"Hisoka, are you..."
"Just tired," he answered. "This always happens, whenever I fall asleep. I always have the dream, and I get injured, and then I get healed and I get tired again..."
Tsuzuki let out a shuttering breath. "You were so still, for a moment I thought... but then I saw the burns growing, and..." He took a deep breath and rolled onto his side, flipping himself underneath the covers. "Go back to sleep, Hisoka. I'll stay with you for the rest of the day and night."
"Did you eat?" he asked.
"I will when you wake up. We'll eat together."
"You need to take care of yourself," Hisoka said, words spoken more out of reflex than anything else.
"I will," Tsuzuki promised, and leaned over and kissed Hisoka's forehead. Hisoka flushed beet red. "Rest now. I'm here. I'm right here; you don't need to worry. We're both safe..."
He sighed and turned instinctively into Tsuzuki's warmth. "Tsuzuki..."
Tsuzuki wrapped his arms around Hisoka and hugged him even closer. Hisoka felt Tsuzuki's heart beating fast, still reacting from the fear from earlier, but Tsuzuki's voice was soft and soothing and gentle, and Hisoka let it lull him to sleep.