Warning: For those of you with loved ones suffering from a mental illness, some of the themes in this fic may be upsetting. Please consider carefully before reading on.

AN: Explores a few themes I've been thinking of - I decided it was good to get them out before they could crowd into other projects. Not my usual fare. I didn't plan to post it so soon but for some reason it had to be now. (shrug) I don't argue with that sort of thing.

For hope in the New Year.

EMPTY GAZE

"Watanuki."

There was no answer. Just the slow movement of dark blue eyes as they traversed something that wasn't there.

Doumeki sat down on the weathered bench. Splinters caught on the heavy fabric of his jeans but he barely noticed. His eyes were intent on the blank profile before him. Unanimated it seemed like a piece of sculpture; pale, beautiful and remote. And just as lifeless.

He would have given anything to have the thin cheeks flush with colour, the eyes spark with righteous anger and that lax mouth to spew abuse. To feel them press against his own.

His gaze fell on one of the teen's hands. It lay discarded on his lap, fingers bent in a forgotten curl.

Doumeki lifted the hand carefully in his own. It was cold, chilled from long exposure to the cold air. He wrapped it in both of his hands, trying to give some of the warmth back. Thinking, perhaps, somehow he could get Watanuki back as well.

"Kimihiro." The voice was whispered, a tired plea.

Dark blue eyes slid to the hands that held his own. Slowly they rose to meet the gold eyes that stared so intensely. A faint frown creased Watanuki's brow and for a moment there was something in his eyes.

Doumeki stopped breathing, hands unconsciously tightening around the pale fingers they held so carefully. As if that could keep Watanuki with him. It was a fragment of the boy he had loved and he didn't want it to simply fade and slip away.

For several heart-tearing seconds, the two gazes remained locked. The pale boy's frown deepened fractionally and Doumeki's chest tightened so that he couldn't have drawn a breath, even if he had wanted to.

Come back to me. Don't turn away.

Come back to me.

As quickly as it had disappeared, the frowned vanished. The dark blue eyes emptied to pretty reflective glass.

Doumeki's hold on Watanuki's hand loosened as the eyes slid away again. Tracking. Moving. Tracing things that were there and never had been.

He felt another part of him slip away. It was another of the hopes he stored, hopes that were used up painfully and discarded one by one. Even as Watanuki faded he could feel himself be left behind. And he was slowly starting to break apart, piece by piece. With every time his hopes were raised only to be cruelly dashed.

Watanuki was fading.

There had been no progress over the past year. Watanuki had slipped further and further away. And now all that was left was this empty husk that Doumeki clung to because he couldn't accept it. He couldn't bring himself to stop visiting, to stop staring into those wandering eyes to catch a glimpse - just a glimpse - of what the boy had been.

He loosened his grip and placed the lax hand back on the empty lap. It stayed exactly where he had placed it - no twitch, no sign of discomfort, of any autonomous movement.

And his eyes. They kept roaming the bleak gardens. Ever moving. Blank shields against the mind that lay sleeping underneath.

Twenty minutes later an orderly came out to end the visit. Doumeki exchanged a nod and watched as the young man helped the silent boy off the bench.

"Come on Watanuki-kun." The cheerful voice grated on Doumeki's nerves. It was the way one addressed a child. Watanuki would have snapped indignantly at being spoken to in such a manner.

Before.

"We'll go get you something to eat and get you to bed." Watanuki was staring blankly all this point and the orderly laid a familiar hand on his thin shoulder.

Watanuki flinched.

If Doumeki hadn't been watching for it, he would never have seen it.

But he always watched Watanuki when he visited. Always hoping to see a flash, an indication that the long wait was over. That there was a chance for the recovery that the doctors talked about when he came to enquire about the boy's health.

He had been watching. And there was no mistaking the slight cringe that hunched Watanuki's shoulders and the alarmed flash of his eyes.

There was no mistaking that Watanuki was afraid.

Doumeki made up his mind right then. He was taking the other boy home. Today.

xXx

Doumeki found that it was more difficult to check out a patient than to admit one. There were protests.

The first had been from the orderly when Doumeki had taken back Watanuki's hand and pulled him free of the man's grasp. Surprise had turned to anger once Doumeki had voiced his intentions. But Doumeki ignored it, tightening his grip on Watanuki's hand and wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer to his side.

Watanuki allowed it where once he would have screeched deafeningly in protest. There was no protest from the boy as Doumeki lead him away from the shouting orderly towards the building. He obediently went where he was directed, ever silent and blank.

The head doctor of the institute came rushing to intercept them as Doumeki made to leave the lobby. The orderly, who had no doubt raised the alarm, was not far behind.

Doumeki ensured that Watanuki was alright before he turned to deal with the problem.

He had flung his coat over the pale boy's shoulders and patiently threaded each of the teen's arms through the sleeves before tying it shut over his hospital-issue clothes.

Watanuki had had cooperated as he always did now. But Doumeki found he didn't mind the constant blankness now.

It was preferable to raw fear.

Now Doumeki drew the teen close to his side, with an arm around his waist as he faced the doctor. The man's protestations were cut off abruptly as after Doumeki made a bald statement about cutting the funding for the next quarter.

Money always talked in the end.

They were not stopped again as Doumeki turned back to leave the building. There was only the sound Watanuki' worn slippers shuffling strangely on the concrete path as they left the grounds, heading towards the car park.

It was only when he had strapped a listless Watanuki into the passenger seat and Doumeki was safely behind the wheel that he indulged in a few deep steadying breaths.

Watanuki, watching something through the windshield, didn't seem to notice.

xXx

Doumeki sat on the park bench, holding Watanuki's hand between both of his own on his lap.

Watanuki seemed unaware of it, eyes moving as ever. But there was some colour to his face, his cheeks were not as sunken. Doumeki even fancied that the permanent shadows under his eyes had lightened somewhat.

Doumeki had found that caring for Watanuki was no burden. The silent boy would follow whatever guidance he was given - he would even fend for himself when sat down at a table for a meal. It only took a long time, filled with instructions to prompt him back to his the task, for his gaze would eventually begin to wander. In truth he needed help with everything. If he was left to his own devices, Watanuki would simply stop, watching things only his mind could fathom.

But whether it was dressing the teen, helping him bathe or use the facilities, Doumeki did not find it an onerous task. True, he didn't have to work with the funds that his grandfather had left him. But he didn't mind the loss of his time to care for the boy. His normal daily tasks paled in significance and his other acquaintances were no where near as important.

Because it was for Watanuki, he was prepared to do it until he could not any longer.

After the first week, Doumeki had taken Watanuki to the park. There was no spark of recognition at the familiar surroundings but Doumeki hadn't really expected it. Even so he had made it a habit to take the teen there every day. it was a routine that reminded him of the way things had been.

Some of the strained helplessness had left him, now that Watanuki was at his side.

Even if it wasn't really him.

"Good morning."

Doumeki gazed up at the woman standing beside the bench. He finally settled on a 'morning' in reply.

"You seem to come here quite a bit." Several long strands of black hair spread across one shoulder of her thick coat and she brushed them back.

Doumeki glanced at Watanuki and back to the woman. He said nothing.

The woman's eyes shadowed when she saw Watanuki's moving eyes. She walked over and crouched before him, planting herself in the path of their gaze. The restless dark blue orbs met her own after a moment. A sudden clarity lit their depths and suddenly it was as if Watanuki was back again.

Doumeki froze.

Watanuki's eyes did not dart away. They locked with the woman's, suddenly focused and seeing clearly.

"Has he been like this long?" The woman kept her stare locked with Watanuki's.

Doumeki's eyes moved from one to the other. They finally settled on Watanuki. "A year."

"He's still there." Her burgundy eyes darkened further. "But he'll never be the same."

His heart missed a beat when he heard the words spoken aloud. He had feared it. He'd guessed it as he saw Watanuki slip further and further away. But he had chosen to ignore it, to focus on the possiblity of recovery one day. Of chances and future heartbreaks. Anything to keep the hope of now.

Doumeki lowered his gaze to the hand he cradled in both of his own. His heart seemed to have seized in his chest but he ignored the pain. The stopping of his heart didn't seem to matter.

"He will always bear some scars from this time." Her eyes relinquished Watanuki's and travelled to Doumeki. "He has been watching events for a long time."

Watanuki had resumed his wandering gaze. She reached out and brushed Watanuki's forehead with the tips of her fingers. His eyes flickered briefly at the touch, stopping their movements. "But he has done all he can. If he doesn't pull back he will disappear."

Thud. Doumeki's heart, fuelled by hope, surged in his chest. "Are you saying you can help him?"

Her fingers slowly lowered from Watanuki's pale skin. "Would you be prepared to pay the price?"

Doumeki looked at the pale face, the eyes that had resumed their restless motions. Felt the lifeless hand that he held between his own.

"Name it."

xXx

It had been nearly a month since Doumeki had met the woman in the park. At times he could almost imagine a feeling of pressure as fingers flexed slightly against his own. A flicker of the eyes that turned to him rather than phantoms. It was hard to tell what was real and what was hopeful delusion.

Perhaps he was going mad.

But if this was madness he had been experiencing it for the past year.

There was a soft sound behind him and Doumeki turned to see Watanuki standing in the doorway. For a moment Doumeki hoped that it had finally happened. But the dark blue gaze still wandered listlessly, seeing things he could not see.

But he had moved on his own.

The dreadful flare of hope lit within him, a conflagration in his heart once more. No doubt it would be ashes the next day.

Doumeki pulled back the covers of the bed he had been making. After a moment of hopeful waiting, he crossed the room and took Watanuki's hand to lead him to the bed.

The boy trailed obediently and climbed in. Doumeki averted his eyes from the wandering gaze and pulled up the covers.

Cold fingers clamped on his wrist. "Don't."

Doumeki found himself confronted with dark blue eyes. Angry eyes.

"...treat me like..." It sounded as if it took a great effort to talk. Watanuki's brow furrowed as he searched for the right word. ''...an invalid."

"Aren't you?" The words rose automatically to Doumeki's lips.

The eyes narrowed, the grip on his wrist tightening.

Then suddenly the anger was gone. The eyes slid shut and the hand around his wrist let go.

An edge of the bedcovers was pushed back. Not much, but enough to be an invitation.

"Get in." The words were tired. Thin and hesitant, as if the sounds were uncertain in his mouth. But there was no mistaking what had been said.

Slowly, Doumeki pulled back the covers and slid into the bed. His hands shook slightly as he pulled them back up to cover them both. Cautiously he reached out and wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist, pulling him back closer to his chest.

An arm came down to rest on one of his own, cool fingers twining with his.

A sigh escaped Watanuki's lips. "Idiot."

Doumeki's hold tightened and he buried his face in the other boy's cloth-covered shoulder.

Scarred. Not the same.

His Watanuki was back

xXx

Poor thing. With what's going on, all the Watanukis (and by association, all the Doumekis) have their own trials to face. At least this one ended well. There's hope.

Been a hell of a year, hasn't it? Let's hear it for the next one. Cheers, everyone!

Happy New Year's Eve.