Okay, so this story is gonna be pretty dark from the get go with some heavy implications. It is rated M for multiple reasons, so if you're easily triggered or anything of that nature I would suggest skipping over this story.

I got this idea from a prompt a friend of mine sent me. About your otp meeting in the streets, one going through an experience that other had already gone through. Also, when creating the idea I was in one of my moods, which is why it took a darker route. I hope that you come to enjoy!

Unyielding

Chapter 1

The one thing Cobra knew better than the chemicals that he worked with, was how to fight. Not just bare knuckle brawling, but just the fight it felt like sometimes to even draw air into his lungs. A fight to keep surviving in a body that wished to die. Even from the womb, he had fought daily just to survive from abuse, neglect, trauma, and much more. He was a man that had raised himself, and crawled from a neighborhood-that would put Hell to shame-with blood on his hands and a fierce sneer on his face as buildings burned behind his young body.

Dying was something that he refused to do. In no way was he going to greet Death until he was ready, and he wanted to make sure that he had enough strength to greet the reaper with his middle fingers raised. He wasn't sure if it was because he just didn't want to admit that a shitty life actually beat him, or if it's because of how he witnessed the life being snuffed out of the only person who ever cared for him while he was younger-his first ever experience meeting Death. He never thought to analyze why he was so determined to live, why he crawled out of the hell hole that neighborhood had been, or why he decided to make sure to keep fighting even when he had nothing to fight with or worth fighting for. Fighting was something that was just normal in his life.

So, as he stared at the battered, bruised, and empty looking male curled up against the complex building he called home and something within him sneered. Here he stood-a man who had fought with everything he had, to attain just a decent life that he had no qualms about-over a man who was just a few meager years younger and looked ready to greet the reaper.

Pale cheeks were hollow and jaundiced, ruby eyes that were darkened by thoughts that usually lead even the greatest men to slitting their wrists, and a too thin frame that was covered in was nothing more than scraps of clothing. A ragged old black t-shirt that had slashes only a blunt knife could produce, dark jeans that were stained beyond saving with unknown elements he probably didn't want to know about, but what drew his gaze the most were the revolting bruises that colored the man's body.

Dark black, purple and blue rimmed marks littered his body, from his neck, exposed arms, even around his ankles and bare feet. He couldn't put a label if they were caused by a fight, or abuse, either way they were painful just to look at. Not to mention they began dragging up memories that were best forgotten for him.

So, why can I not turn away?

It was a question that he was trying to figure out since he had spotted the man upon arriving at the complex doors. He wasn't sure what it was, but something within wasn't letting him walk away. Yet, he refused to even approach the exhausted looking man until he knew why he would approach to begin with.

He wasn't charitable, even in the littlest bit. Okay, maybe he did donate some research funding that he received to orphanages and to women clinics, but that was it. He did not, however, think to help people right off the street. He had been able to crawl out of his hell hole, so he had no pity for anyone who couldn't do the same. Sure, it was an audacious thought, because not everyone was like him.

He knew that for some, they thought they deserved the lifestyle just because they were born into it. Hell, he had friends that it had needed him to snap them out of lifestyles that would have taken them away from their lives and loved ones. This person was a stranger to him however, so why the hell was his body trying to get him to help?

It could have been you...

The errant thought caused his lips to pull back into a sneer before he released a breath sharply through his teeth. How he loathed his inner voice sometimes. Very rarely did that voice rear its ugly head, but when it did there was no way he could ignore it. There was nothing stopping him from walking into the building and never looking back on the black and white haired man that was sitting just underneath the awning of the building. Except that he knew that his mind would never stop wondering what would come to happen to him.

Releasing a series of soft curses, he spun on his heels and marched toward the defeated being. Making sure to scuff the heels of his boots, but found his gaze narrowing when the man didn't even flinch. Was he even alive?

Stopping right beside the broken figure, he watched as a chest barely rose and fell. So, he wasn't dead, just so far deep in thoughts that he probably wasn't even aware of his surroundings at all.

"No survival instincts at all."

It was a soft mutter, but something primal rose within him at that notion. Raising his foot, he nudged the man's knees and watched as he slowly blinked. Almost like he was coming out of a daze before those ruby orbs flickered around in disoriented confusion.

I swear if this is just a junkie coming off whatever he shot up with...

"Oi."

At the sound of his voice, the man blanched and quickly looked up. Cobra found himself stunned for a moment as the dirt matted hair fell back some to show the man's face more. Cobra had thought that there was just maybe one of two years between them but no...Upon a closer look he noticed that this person was still young. A good five years younger than himself!

Too young to be looking like this.

Pushing the revolting thought aside, he easily crouched. Not liking how the twenty year old looked like he would run at the drop of a hat, especially since he could practically see shields going up as he tensed and leaned away.

"Wha-?"

"Do you need help?"

The question was out of his mouth before he could even think about it, but Cobra wasn't taking it back. This wouldn't be the first time he helped someone from a life like his. The only time that he turned away from someone in this situation was if they were the same age or older than him. However, at this man's age...

It was when you finally found out how to get out...

Once again Cobra had to force unpleasant memories to stay in the dark abyss of his mind. Right now wasn't the time to think about those, not when a man was drowning in a similar abyss right in front of him.

The tension that suddenly began to build in thin shoulders, and cause his emaciated body to tremble made Cobra wary. Just what was this person's story? Now that his curiosity was piqued, there would be no turning away unless he personally told him to fuck off.

"What would you benefit from helping me?"

His voice was discordant, no doubt a reason to do with the hand like bruise that he noticed around his neck, looking like a vicious wound and no doubt causing great discomfort. However, the question filled his mind with implications that the man was getting at, and he wondered just how far this abuse looked to be.

"Nothing,"

More tension wracked the thin frame huddled before him, and Cobra felt his held tilting ever so slightly.

"Other than calming a worried mind."

Stupefaction lit those ruby orbs for just a fleeting moment, before they dulled again and the man began to hang his head.

"As if I'd believe that."

"Believe what you wish. But I refuse to lie about motive."

Thin lips pulled back in a sneer, and Cobra was mildly surprised to see pristine teeth that were clenched as the man shot his head up to glare at him. Somewhere deep down he felt a little bit at ease to see some fight left in this near soulless person.

"Sure you're not just hoping for some easy ass?"

The vicious question had his stomach rolling at the implication, answering a question he had been wondering about. Cobra found himself leaning back until he sat on the cold concrete, legs crossed in front of him as he stared at the defensive man before him. Fighting with all his worth not to snap right then and there.

He's just like you. Ready to fight, wanting to keep going, but losing to the darkness in his mind. He's just keeping his guards up, you can't blame him for thinking you're like...

Cobra felt a tremor run through his body, refusing to even think about those who had put him-and this man obviously-through acts that were even more cruel than death. Releasing a strained sigh and meeting those still dull eyes, he did his best to stay leveled, but the one thing he wasn't going to let pass was this man comparing him to...abusers like that!

"Don't. Ever. Weigh me as one of them."

Regardless of how much he tried, he couldn't keep the venom and malice from his voice. He did however, allow just enough of his own shields to drop so this kid could get a clue as to why he was attempting to help. He could only watch as those eyes widened in understanding and shock before darkening in shame and he lowered his head once again.

"S..Sorry...I just.."

"I know, I get it. Help comes sparse if not at all in situations like this. And you are doing good to try and protect yourself as much as you can. But, try not to just assume..."

His hands clenched the fabric of his work slacks at his knees. This was something he couldn't just let pass. For someone to even think that he could be just like one of them, looking for an easy target...After experiencing what he had...He knew that the only reason he wasn't swinging at the man was because he hadn't known. There was no way to know! He was merely staying on the defense so it didn't happen now! It still didn't stop his stomach from coiling in revolt at the thought. He had lived through that shit, and wouldn't even wish it on his largest enemy.

"R-Right."

It was nothing more than a whisper, and Cobra blinked at how distant the man sounded. Leaning down, he saw that the daze had settled over his eyes again, and Cobra felt his tension and anger drain from him. There had to be something to drag him back out from wherever he was trapped at.

"Call me Cobra, by the way."

Shock instantly lit those eyes, which were slowly raised to stare at him. No doubt to study his facial features, looking at his hair and very person. He couldn't stop the little tilt of his lips at the awe and slight trepidation that overcame the kid.

So, my name is still known even on that side of town. Good.

He had left that life behind with nothing short of a bang. A bang that had demolished quit a few trafficking homes that had thought to try and share him. It always thrilled him on what just a few, perfectly mixed chemicals could do. It wasn't a wonder that he entered the chemical world just for the hell of it, even if there were some people who thought society would be safer with him behind bars. Or at least locked in a mental institution.

"Midnight."

He knew that it wasn't his actual name. Very few people from those neighborhood gave their true name, since it was the only thing they could call theirs. He still didn't give his true name to strangers. He could actually count the people who had the honor to call him by name on one hand. Everyone else only got Cobra or Dr. Cubellios.

"Well, Midnight. Do you want help or just want me to fuck off?"

The choice was his. It had to be his. Rather he accepted the help to fight and try to better his life. Or he told him to walk away.

Even though you wouldn't walk away.

"You shouldn't..."

"That's not a sentence you should finish. Now, you can make a decision, or I make it for you. I'm not a patient man."

Tension began to seep into him again, no doubt not liking the thought of a decision like this being made for him. Cobra started a mental countdown from thirty, if he reached zero then he would haul this kid's ass up to his apartment if needed. He reached fifteen when those dull crimson eyes locked with his.

"I won't know how to repay you."

That was all it took for Cobra. He stood and held his hand out.

"No repayment. Just don't make me regret this."

Midnight shivered as he was shown around the apartment complex. To think that he would have one of his spells at the fucking doorstep of Cobra Cubellios. It was both frightening, and oddly comforting in a way. The man was a fucking legend from where he was. The only one he ever heard that not only left his past behind, but made sure to burn it to the fucking ground.

To think that maybe he could crawl out of the abyss of despair that was his life, and actually put it all behind him. To silence all that haunted him...

No, the past still haunts even him.

That gave him pause, recalling how the man before him allowed his shields to drop so he could understand why he wished to help. Those maroon orbs darkening to a near black, no doubt from the demons that lay within his mind. Somehow, he had sensed that Midnight was in the same situation he had been before. He knew the hardship that came from being a slave from inside his own home. Knew the fear, the isolation, how it slowly drove someone into insanity. He saw it now, regardless of that straight back, that fierce gaze that seemed to challenge life itself. The past, burnt to the ground though it might be, still laid within this man's mind. No doubt waiting to catch him off guard, just to drag him back into the depths of that Hell so long ago...

Wonder what issues he has?

He gave his head a mental shake before stopping in the middle of the small hallway that Cobra said lead to the bedrooms. Motioning that his was on the left while Midnight could use the spare one across the hall. He felt those maroon eyes land on him in question, before a heavy sigh reached his ears.

"If you need any medication for anything, I can get it. Don't fret about that."

He had known! He had known where his thoughts were going. Almost like a fucking mind reader, it was a bit off putting, but that meant...

"What...What happened to...What happened to your mind?"

The question burned his throat, made his stomach coil. Made everything in his mind too real. There was no way anyone could walk away from their lives and not be broken in some way. At the second heavy sigh the resounded in the tense silent, he found the ability to raise his eyes to see Cobra staring at the wall to his right with a blank stare.

"Guess the best way to explain it, is that my mind is shattered. Without my medication I see demons that aren't there, hear whispers that slowly drive me more insane. Schizophrenia would be the correct medical term, along with anxiety, depression and possibly bipolar. Refused to get "tested" for the last one though. Got sick and tired of being seen as a fucking lab rat and test subject. My personal issues aside, I can get any medication you need without all the doctor visits. I just need to know."

Midnight swallowed hard as that piercing gaze bore into his. There was no doubt he was wanting Midnight to go ahead and tell him what was wrong with his own head, but he was afraid. For years he had denied these issues, fearing that if he accepted them it would make them worse. So he had just slowly allowed them to get worse, besides he always thought that there was nothing he could do about it. He doubted that there was even any medicine out there to help him. Yet, there was something about Cobra's look...He couldn't deny the first person ever to show him even a bit of kindness. He didn't want to lose it! Even though it had been just mere minutes of meeting, just the thought that someone actually gave a shit...It was both soothing and frightening. Either way, it was making him feel something though!

"I..Insomnia. Narcoleptic tendencies, it's the reason I was so out of it at the stoop. Night terrors. Bad ones. Panic attacks. Anxiety. Possible depression.."

"No possibility about it."

His voice was close, and Midnight took a quick step back in shock. During his listing and attempt of not breaking down, Cobra had approached closer. Understanding shown within his gaze, and Midnight felt his body tensing again. He wasn't sure what caused him to become defensive, especially since he figured that if anyone knew what he was going through, it would be this man before him. Yet, it just still seemed too good to be true. Someone who not only understood, but knew the feeling of what was going on inside his head.

"I can't begin to fathom what you went through over there. My story could very well be different from yours, or it could be the exact same. You can tell me if you wish and I might tell you mine if I feel like it. I know what I'm getting myself into by accepting you into my home, and I'll do everything I can to keep my patience. But know this, you're pain is your own as my pain is mine. All we can do is share and try to understand. I'll help with what I can, but most of the work does have to come from you. You cannot deny what happened, or else we'll just start going in circles."

Midnight could only stare at the man before him. His body slowly beginning to tremble until his body wracked as all of his nerves, his self-doubts, his fears seemed to yield under the sharp gaze. Never, not once, had this happened before, and it frightened him! He was feeling things he had never felt before, and didn't know where to begin with these new emotions. This man...Cobra...Understood where others couldn't. Where other's only threw pity glances, or tried to give false hopes that it "can only get better", Cobra told it straight. Yeah, it was going to be hard. Fucking hard at that. But...He had someone who was going to stand with him. Someone who was willing to watch his back, to help keep threats of his past and threats from his own mind from destroying him even more. He could only look down as his eyes began to burn with tears that he didn't want to fall, and tensed when a warm hand was pressed to his shoulder. The fingers applying light, reassuring pressure.

"I can understand not wanting to cry. But trust me, there is a release through shedding tears that cannot be obtained any other way. If you need a shoulder, I will provide. If you wish to just cry alone, I will respect that wish as well."

Midnight didn't even hesitate. It was something he always wished he could feel-another person's warmth. All he had known was coldness, both from other people and his own body. To be able to feel warmth for once...It was something he couldn't pass on. Even if it might only be this once! Spinning on his bare soles, he wrapped his arms around Cobra's body. His own trembling as Cobra had to balance himself from the unexpected movement, before carefully allowing his arms to fall around him. Holding him as he sobbed in earnest.

Midnight wasn't one to lie to himself, this did scare him. Petrified him even. He had never felt a nice, calming touch nor had he felt these kind of emotions before. Even when he was born, he had merely been passed around from one milking mother to another. None of them treated him like anything more than a burden, especially since no one even knew who his real mother was. He had only ever heard harsh words, felt harsh hands, and his only solace had been a fleece blanket. His emotions had never developed past loathing, fear, pain, and uncertainty. Now though, pushing aside his fear, to actually feel the calming warmth of another person, to feel strong, steady arms wrap around him and hold him close as he cried. To feel sadness, relief, actual tiredness, and for a slim feeling of hope...

"I've got you now. You never have to return back there."

Those words soothed his mind into a blissful state. Allowed his body to relax. He never had to go back. Never had to see that man's face again. Never feel that unwanted pain. He tightened his hold only a fraction, his body relaxing too fast and he was slow to realize what was really happening. A murmured apology left his lips at Cobra's curse. Everything had been too much for his tired mind and body to take. But thankfully, he was somewhere safe, so for once, he embraced the sleep that dragged him under.