Written for Kuro Week, Day 1 - Madness.

"Let me."

Shiro cringed. No! he pushed back towards the depths of his mind.

"Let me! You can't do this!" Kuro snapped, straining against the chains holding him. "We'll die! You'll die! Shiro, let me!"

A shot pinged off the metal above him, and Shiro cringed down. They were getting closer, and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be safe - as safe as he was, like this, barely hidden behind a damaged fighter, pieces of its wrecked engine scraping against his armour.

"Please, Shiro." Kuro pulled at the chains Shiro had binding him deep inside, his voice softer. "Please."

Shiro gasped as the bright beam of another shot burned through his armour and bit into his shoulder. I-

Shiro closed his eyes. "All right." he said softly, and loosed his grip on the restraints.

Kuro howled, slamming forward, knocking Shiro aside and sending him tumbling deep inside himself as his eyes opened glowing, brilliant amber. Kuro growled, flexing their cybernetic hand. Purple threads of energy lit up through the metal, then broadened, and as Kuro flexed their fingers again claws extended from the smooth fingertips.

Kuro rolled forwards, stretching muscles that already ached and ignoring their protests.

Be careful! Shiro yelped as Kuro threw their body up and over the nose of the fighter, into the fray of their attackers from above. Then Shiro fell quiet, hidden away deep inside their mind and unable to see the brawl that Kuro danced at the centre of, lashing out and darting aside, quick and harsh.

Soldiers fell around them, Galra blood darkening the deck plates. Kuro found the one who had cut their face earlier, nearly blinding Shiro, and drove him back until he hit the wall. Kuro snarled, slashing open his face in return and pausing, deliberately, with claws held close as he whimpered and tried to squirm away.

Kuro blinded him with a quick, stabbing slash, then broke his neck and let him fall.

That enemy was one of the last cornering them, but Kuro canvassed the hangar, clearing out a few more threats, then finding a fighter that was flight-worthy and not spilling its guts out. Kuro clawed onto control, struggling to keep it now that they couldn't hear the press of threats around them. Just a little longer - not for Kuro but for them, for Shiro. . . He needed to be away.

Kuro scrubbed some of the blood off their right palm and activated the computers - the screen was smudged with blood, but only a little - and made sure it was an independent system. Once sure there was no connection to any other Galran ships they programmed in the path back to the Castle.

The fighter launched, arcing away from the Galra vessel, its flight unmolested. Kuro backed away from the controls and crouched, cringing, and clutched their head for a moment, fingers digging through their already-filthy hair. Then Kuro's hands dropped, and they gasped, retching and choking for a moment.

Safe. Kuro said, open and soft, and slid away, letting himself fall into the deepest reaches inside.

Shiro flexed his fingers - sticky with blood, and the left one slightly battered and achy - as he came back to himself, and blinked, stunned. You- You actually just. . .

Kuro huffed, a touch of a growl to his inner voice. "I can't pen you inside. Hurting you hurts me. You should know that." he added after a pause, and Shiro bowed his head, ashamed. He did know that - chaining Kuro down in his mind hurt them both.

I- I can't just let you free, I can't- Shiro thought desperately.

"I know." Kuro said softly. "I know you can't." Then, with a melancholy twist. "I don't expect you to even admit to me inside you, Shiro. I know what I am to you."

Shiro cringed.

"But at least. . . Please call on me, please let me, when I can save you." Kuro pleaded, and Shiro closed his eyes.

I'm sorry, he told the dark half inside him, and felt Kuro's despair.

I've a sequel in mind for this one, though it will likely not be written until after Kuro Week, at least.