Part 1 - P.O.V. - Gokudera Hayato

A.N.: This is a completely different fanfic from my other one, Those Unspoken Words. This was actually the first KHR fic I ever wrote, and I really like how it turned out, despite the fact Gokudera kinda has a mental breakdown...

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I grit my teeth and hold back a scream of pain as I try once more to free my pinned legs. He's lying right out of my reach, bleeding, unmoving, dying, and I'm helpless.

"Dammit!" I yell, tears of pain and anger falling down my face. "It wasn't supposed to be this way…" I groan as I try to pull myself free, and slump against the cold concrete floor, exhausted. "Yamamoto," I whisper, reaching for him, "don't you fucking die on me, you baseball idiot! Yamamoto!" No response.

Frustrated, I glare at the stone pillar that has trapped my legs – there is no way I can get out from under it, unless… I look around and there! – I spot two sticks of my trusty dynamite, just inside my reach. I snatch them up and risk another glance at Yamamoto – still nothing. I look at the dynamite in my hand and grimace – if I want to save him, I have no other options left. I doubt the Tenth would forgive me if I let his friend die right in front of me.

I light the fuses and take a deep breath before I chuck them at the stone pillar, and cover my head. I feel the explosion, but I hear nothing.

My eyes snap open and I sit up fast, still sweating profusely from my vivid nightmare. I've been having variations of the same dream for the past two weeks, but I've told no one. I don't even let the fact that I've hardly slept at all affect my daily lifestyle. It's because I don't want anyone to find out my worst fear – watching the Guardian of the Rain, Yamamoto Takeshi die right before my eyes.

I'm known as the school delinquent, and apparently I hate everyone, even though people considered to be my "friends" are the Tenth and my fellow Guardians. In truth, I really prefer to be alone, separate from the group. I don't like people in general, and I don't want to let my darkest secret slip.

He's easygoing, and friends with everyone. But I never thought that I, of all people, would fall hopelessly in love with him. I don't even know how, or when, it started… There's no way I'm going to confess to him, either – my reputation as a badass would be ruined. And besides, there is no guarantee he would feel the same way about me. When you look at the guy, there's no denying he's straight.

My breathing finally slows, and I fall back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I don't want to fall asleep again – I don't want any more nightmares.

But of course, the human body only lets itself be controlled to a certain limit before it breaks, and I've pretty much hit the max – my body doesn't respond like I want it to. And sure enough, against my wishes, my eyes drift shut, and as sleep takes me once more, I am sucked into another nightmare.

I'm chained to a wall, bereft of everything but my body itself. My wrists bleed heavily, the skin and muscle once covering the bones, torn to shreds. I lift my head and examine my surroundings. I'm in a small concrete room and in front of my lies an empty table with a few old bloodstains, and some wires. I let my head drop – the effort to hold it up is too taxing – and pray to whatever God there is that my captors don't hold anyone else I know.

I hang there, spread eagle and slowly bleeding out, for what seems to be hours. After a time though, the door opens, and three people enter – one chained and half-conscious, the other two hooded. I lift my head weakly at the noise, and rage floods my veins when I recognize Yamamoto, bruised and bloodied. I can do nothing but watch as he is strapped down to the table.

The taller of the two hooded figures approaches me as his buddy takes care of Yamamoto. "If you don't want your fellow Guardian to die, tell me where Sawada Tsunayoshi is and you will both live."

'Oh that's a load of bullshit,' I think to myself as I struggle to keep my face neutral. On the inside, it's as if my heart is being ripped in two. I can't betray the Tenth – I'm his right hand! – but Yamamoto… with him, the feelings cut too close to home. I clench my hands into fists, ignoring the searing pain, and grit my teeth. I spit at him and growl my anger. "Like hell I'd tell you anything!" 'Yamamoto, forgive me…'

He turns away. "Very well." He nods once to his buddy, who flips a switch and then quickly exits, probably to watch me suffer from a better view. The hooded man who talked to me follows him, and I watch him go, glaring daggers.

Muffled cries of pain bring my attention back to the table. I strain against my chains, despite how futile it is for me to break free. "Yamamoto!" I scream his name as he writhes on the table, fighting to get free, tears of pain and anguish blurring my vision. "YAMAMOTO!"

I sob into my pillow, hating myself for being so weak. I should be stronger – the Tenth shouldn't be dragged down by someone as pathetic as me. I don't know what triggered these nightmares, but I would give anything to get them to stop. I don't want the Tenth to worry about me – he worries enough as it is.

Eventually, I calm down again and force myself to stand. I feel like shit, and probably look it, too. I head for the shower, armed with clean clothes, and hope my nightmare don't follow me.

Three hours later, I find myself sitting alone in the pouring rain, hoping desperately my nightmares will fade away. But my brain keeps remembering them, and there is no place to hide from yourself. I hear splashes – someone's coming – but I don't look up until the rain suddenly stops hitting my head, and quickly look away when I see who it is.

Yamamoto Takeshi stands in front of me, holding his umbrella over my head and looking concerned. "Are you okay, 'Dera?"

I growl in annoyance. "Don't call me that, baseball idiot!" I still don't look at him, fuming silently. Part of me thinks this is another nightmare that seeped over into reality. "I'm fine."

He doesn't say anything for a minute – he just stares at me, before looking away quickly. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his cheeks flush.

Finally, I turn to face him. "What the hell do you want?!"

He holds out a hand. "Come back to my place and get dry – you'll catch a cold if you sit out here too long."

Even though deep inside, I really want to take his hand, I ignore it and reluctantly stand, and follow the idiot back to his place.

I follow him up to his room, where he gives me a change of his old clothes, before he runs downstairs again to help his father with customers. I change and sit on the edge of his bed, staring out the window. And of course, I pass out due to exhaustion, and enter another nightmare.

This time, I can't see anything – it's pitch black – but luckily, I'm not chained down, and can move freely.

"Hello?" I stand and look around, even though I can't see, and hear my own voice echo back at me. I don't mind being alone, I don't mind the dark – it's crowds I hate.

A click echoes and I feel something cold pressed against the back of my head, and I freeze. "You've been quite a troublesome little boy," my mysterious captor drawls, "and it's time you are punished. Face your left."

I have no choice but to obey, and as I turn, I see the left wall has turned into a screen. It's showing a live surveillance tape – Yamamoto and the Tenth are fighting to get in here, wherever that is. My captor laughs, and the pressure from the gun vanishes.

Horrified, I watch as the Tenth falls, and Yamamoto stands over him, protecting him. Hidden speakers crackle and audio fills the tiny space. A wordless scream of anger explodes from me when Yamamoto is cut down, and I slam my fist against the nearest wall.

Yamamoto looks up at the sky, his eyes already unfocused and glazed over. "Sorry, 'Dera," he whispers, and I hear it as clear as day. I watch, numb, as his eyes lose their light and he goes limp.

I fall to my knees and curl into a tight ball, fighting tears and screams, but to no avail. I am broken.

"Gokudera!" I flinch away from the voice, my face wet with tears, my throat raw from screaming. A hand rests on my shoulder and I involuntarily whimper and pull away. The hand is quickly removed and I hear my name again, softer this time. "Gokudera. It's just me." I recognize Yamamoto's voice and look up.

He's sitting on the edge of the bed next to me, genuine fear and concern in his face. I hate myself for being this weak, I hate the fact that he's seeing me like this…

I turn my face away, but he reaches out and rests a hand on my cheek, forcing me to face him. "Gokudera," he says quietly, "I'm worried sick about you. Please, tell me what's wrong."

I hang my head, letting my bangs cover my face, and say nothing. I can't tell him.

"How long have you been having nightmares?"

My head snaps up in surprise and his hand falls away. I look at him a moment longer before I lower my eyes. "Two weeks," I mumble.

"What are they about?"

I pull my knees to my chest and rest my head on them. "Losing someone," I whisper, tears leaking out of my eyes against my will.

He doesn't say anything for a moment. He moves one of his hands to rest atop mine in a comforting gesture. "Can you tell me who?"

I say nothing for several minutes, arguing with myself in my head. Finally I sigh, hide my face behind my legs, and whisper my answer. "You."