A/N: This started on the T&B Anon Meme, and I've posted it here before, but took it down for some more tweaking. Anyway if you are reading for the first time, enjoy, if you happen to be reading again, I hope I've changed it for the better.

He really should have died.

That one line from the accident report was the one that stuck in Barnaby's head. Kotetsu should be dead. Was for the time being almost as good as dead, since there was no telling how much damage there had been to his mind. All he could do was hope that his friend would snap out of it.

These six months had felt like years. Looking down at him, standing at his bedside, Barnaby strangled back again the old feelings of abandonment and loneliness. His body had healed, but Kotetsu remained still, stirring only occasionally. He remained lost somewhere in a long, hard, dream.

"The world's kept on going whether you're there or not, old man. You can't stay here much longer or you're going to miss it all," he said, reiterating words he'd said before, which had been ignored or unheard, but true enough.

They were supposed to talk to him, when they visited, since supposedly he could hear them. Kotetsu's brain still showed vigorous activity, so there was something going on up there - no matter how many times Barnaby had questioned it in the past when he wasn't hurt.

He sighed down at him. "You know it can get pretty lonely going on a call without you. With no one around to trip me up or lower my average points, it almost gets boring. I might just stay in the number one slot forever at this rate." He was joking, since he'd been knocked out of first several times by Keith, though never for long.

It was strange, being alone with Kotetsu like this – alone, but not really alone. As if he'd wake up if Barnaby just said the right words, made the right noises. Getting angry didn't help. As frustrating as it was to see him there, breathing calmly like he was taking a nap and just inconveniencing everyone. Barnaby didn't yell, didn't smack his face, but he wanted to sometimes.

Antonio would probably be here soon to read him the paper, as he often did on Sunday morning. Last week, Barnaby had seen the weariness in his comrade's eyes, which matched his own. It wasn't a pleasant thing to share, but that it was shared gave some small relief. Still, he didn't want to be here while Antonio was, and similarly he tried to avoid the rest of Kotetsu's friends and family when they came to have some time with him.

There was one thing he had to say before he left, however. Barnaby leaned down low against the plastic and metal bar on the side of his bed, close to Kotetsu's ear.

"I'm going to take off in a minute, but I thought you would find this amusing," he said softly. "You see, I'm about to go do something very stupid. Something you told me was a really bad idea, and could complicate my life in all sorts of annoying ways. Except I'm pretty sure I'm in love with her, and I'm sick of just thinking about it. You're asleep though, so you don't get to see what happens."

"The bar is closed, Mr. Brooks. You should go home," Karina said, her fingers brushing the piano keys lightly enough that she could hear the faint notes. There was only one reason he could be here and she wasn't about to give him an opening. She was done with the hero game and the lies and deceptions and the pain behind it.

She'd learned a hard lesson six months ago; no matter what Kotetsu had said, you couldn't save everyone.

"I only need a few minutes of your time, Karina," he said as he approached, using that pleasantly affected tone she recognized from countless promotional clips and commercials in the past. It irked her, too, to hear her real name from his lips so casually, even though they'd known each other for so long.

Barnaby had been sitting at one of the tables near the back, sipping from what looked like the same beer glass for at least an hour; when he'd actually arrived, she didn't know. Trying to stay calm once she'd noticed him had been difficult, she'd gone through the rest of her usual set without missing a note, but she could feel his eyes on her the whole time. She didn't understand how he'd found her, her performances weren't being billed anywhere yet.

He had an expensive maroon leather jacket slung over his arm and his reserved nature seemed intact. Karina decided he probably wasn't drunk, but there was a looseness to his limbs that she wasn't used to seeing. If she wanted to she could yell for Damon to throw him out, but she didn't. She could take care of him easily enough.

"Don't bother asking. I don't owe you anything - jerk." She punctuated the word by pressing several keys down at the same time, sending discordant notes at him.

Barnaby shrugged, looking up at her from the base of the stage, crossing his arms. "No, I guess you don't, but we're not rivals anymore. There's no reason we have to be at odds."

"Tell that to Kotetsu," she said, and a tiny, but extremely vindictive part of her heart was satisfied to see him wince. She started playing the refrain to a recent popular song; he probably wouldn't recognize it, or the suggestion she was making with it for him to get the hell out, since he claimed he didn't listen to anything less than one-hundred-years-old. Hell yes, she still blamed him for what had happened.

"I would if I could," Barnaby said, not trying to hide the bitterness he felt. Perhaps there was even a hint of sadness behind it, but she didn't want to give him too much credit. A small hop and he was on the stage with her, like he had every right to be there.

So arrogant. "Go away, the bartender is going to lock the doors in a minute."

"I'm sure he'll make an exception. How many different venues do you play in a week, by the way?" he asked, leaning down on the piano at ease, like she hadn't just accused him of nearly killing one of her best friends. The gleam in his green eyes told her that he was humoring her, and it made her grit her teeth. She looked around the dim barroom for Damon but he wasn't nearby, probably outside smoking.

"Why would I tell you that? My life is none of your business," she said, wishing he wasn't standing so close.

As much as she didn't want to forgive him, it was impossible to ignore how nice he was to look at; how good he smelled, how tight the material of his black t-shirt was across his broad shoulders. Karina liked his new haircut, still shaggy but not as long in back - but she could never tell him something like that. Barnaby wasn't the sort of man that let people get too close to him, and he was used to being showered with praise; he wasn't about to get it from her.

"Just curious. Nathan said he only knew about this one, but you don't play here every night. I suppose you have a lot more to keep you busy though, now that you're going to the university," he said, looking at her with such intensity Karina felt her face flush, while at the same time feeling slightly betrayed by Nathan.

It didn't help that he'd just said he had come here looking for her before. She wondered how much Nathan had told him; they still talked and met up every other Thursday – it had only been two months after all since she'd quit. Being on time for her classes was much easier, now that she didn't have the pressure of being a hero of Sternbild to disrupt her schedule.

"Stop stalking me, it's illegal - and creepy. I'm not coming back, there's nothing that you can say that would convince me," she said. Not even if Kotetsu woke up from his coma tomorrow.

Barnaby just laughed.

"What?"

"It's funny. You're probably the only person in the world who wouldn't be flattered that I sought them out," he said, smirking and looking away as he adjusted his glasses.

Karina gasped and crossed her arms at him, leaning back from the piano. "You even admit it! You're not a very nice person I hope you know," she said. Her anger was about to tip over into fury, but she saw something shift in his demeanor and she held her tongue.

"You shouldn't make wild assumptions. I never said anything about asking you to return," he said, ignoring her insult.

"Why are you here then?" she asked, bemused and reaching out, stroking the keys under her fingers lightly enough that she could hear the hammers shifting but not striking the wires.

"I wanted to see you, nothing more."

"Don't be ridiculous. You don't even like my music," she grumbled. 'Nothing more' if he said so, but she wouldn't bet on it. Barnaby always had some sort of agenda. He couldn't possibly be saying that he missed her.

"You seem to have made an art out of putting words in my mouth," he said, irritated - possibly frustrated, his mouth quirking down. "I said I came here because I wanted to see you."

What he meant finally clicked in her mind, and Karina stood up sharply. She pushed the wooden bench back against the piano with a muffled screech. "I can't even begin to guess what you're getting at, but it's late. I'm going home, you should do the same."

"Karina -" he said, grabbing her arm before she could leave the tiny dark stage. It was unnerving to see such a different side of him. She'd never seen him offer anything but the most shallow interest in pursuing anything but being the greatest hero in Sternbild, once he'd found his parents' true murderer.

"Find one of those girls who's already obsessed with you, Mr. Brooks," she said, looking back up at him with narrowed eyes. He'd had plenty of chances to become her friend. Before, he always had to twist her words, or tease her, or steal her spotlight. Something had definitely changed but she had no idea what. She made a mental note to call Nathan as soon as she had a moment alone.

"That wouldn't help, I'd still be thinking of you," Barnaby said, his voice cool, but she could detect warmth in his eyes and expression as he tried to shift the tone of their conversation around on her. "What if I accidentally used your name instead?" he joked.

Karina smiled at his attempt at humor, and at how strongly he'd just turned on the charm. She'd been waiting for it - and was duly surprised when it made an impression on her. She had meant to be unrelentingly harsh with him, and now he'd given her one pleasant look and nearly managed to undo her resolve. Deep down she knew she liked the attention, which had been in short supply since she'd quit shilling soft drinks. She was tired, that had to be it.

"You wouldn't believe how many men have told me similar things in my fanmail," she said. She couldn't help thinking of some of the particularly disturbing letters she'd received and quickly discarded in revulsion and horror - or on one memorable occasion, had her manager contact the authorities over. There were certain kinds of attention she could do without.

"You, Karina, not Blue Rose," he said, and she was at a loss, uncertain how to reply.

For one thing, she didn't get fanmail any longer and it hurt a little to have him point it out. Blue Rose was a figment, but a famous, insanely popular one, unlike Karina Lyle. Now, Karina was just another struggling singer-songwriter, working on a practical degree so she could eventually support herself enough to pursue her true passion in her sparse free time.

Could she afford to offer even a sliver of it to someone else? Nathan had always told her she was going to have to sacrifice certain things if she really did want to be in a relationship with someone; things like time and a certain amount of ego; things she wasn't sure she was capable of giving up for anyone - least of all for someone like Barnaby.

"I suppose you would understand the difference. It makes me wonder though what's under your mask," she said, feeling him slide his hand up her arm to her shoulder, tugging her around to face him.

Karina doubted anyone really knew Barnaby, even Kotetsu, who had probably gotten the closest to him of all. Now that she thought about it, their mutual affection for Kotetsu was their greatest and possibly their only real bond. She'd never run into Barnaby in the hospital while visiting, but she knew from the guest log he did stop in.

She wondered if he thought about the same things she did while watching their friend's slack, endlessly-dreaming face. She'd watch Kotetsu's chest fall and rise, and wish she weren't such a coward, or wish she'd been born at a different time. Not that it would change anything.

"I don't know what makes you think there is one, but I guess there's only one way to find out," he said, with what she thought was an honest grin.

Was this the charming facade he always defaulted to when he was on uncertain footing, or the real Barnaby smiling at her? Karina wasn't sure.

"Give me your phone," she said, resigned. Barnaby produced a slick red-cased smartphone from his pocket, then unlocked it for her so she could punch in her number. "Call me if you want – we can talk again when I'm not dead tired."

"I look forward to it."

"Don't make me regret this, pretty boy," Karina said.