I was surprised to see a review for this story already, I didn't expect it to be noticed at least for a long while. It made me happy to see, thank you reviewer ^^ I'm not really sure where to take this story from here, if you have any suggestions at all please leave them in the reviews. I'll continue it though, I like writing and I really like looking into Shizuo and Izaya's personalities and thoughts, even if I might not be the best at it. Again, thank you for reading, have a nice night. ^^

PS: I don't know barely anything about medical things. Sorry if something I say isn't correct.

It didn't take too long to arrive at the tall, grey, undistinguished building that Shinra and Celty called home, a place Shizuo had visited enough times through his high school years to the present to recognize by heart despite how similar it appeared compared to nearly every other building surrounding it. By now his starch white sleeves had been long stained with a red that seeped through the fabric and was beginning to dry uncomfortably onto his skin, making the clothing stick to his arms and chest, staining the precious bartender's uniform he received from his younger brother. Of course the red substance that would ruin one of his few prized possessions would be the flea's, Shizuo thought in irritation, but those aggravated jabs never once left his mouth. There were a few close calls where he wanted so badly to growl to Izaya just how pissed off he was at him but then he'd look down and see eyes that were squeezed shut in half-conscious pain, lips that were slightly parted as his chest heaved unorderly for air, and a paler-than-normal fist gripping tightly to Shizuo's dark vest to keep a tight hold, as if the flea were worried that at some point his enemy would just drop him to the ground. Izaya appeared to be awake enough to feel the pain, groaning every time the blonde's heavy-soled shoes pounded against the ground too forcefully, but didn't seem to be any more conscious than that. Shizuo knew Izaya well enough to be certain that the cocky bastard wouldn't show signs of being injured and would refuse help from the same man who half lived to attempt to crush and kill him under large flying objects. Honestly the brunette would probably refuse help from anyone. Shizuo had hit his target multiple times without givng the receiving male enough time to brace himself, various things weighing tons slamming into him, and he'd just stand right back up. He and Shizuo had one thing in common, despite him nearly gagging at the thought of being anything like the flea; They both couldn't stand to be pitied.

So now, seeing Izaya nearly clawing tears into his shirt, making small grunts and coughs of irritation at each sudden movement, Shizuo had to admit… he was worried. Someone who didn't show pain was now here suffering and practically bleeding out… he had taken it too far. Celty was right, but Shizuo hadn't noticed until now where each second passing was another second where he wondered if another rigid breath would even come out of the pale form in his arms. He winced as Izaya shuddered after the blonde had begun to dart up the stairs, assuming that they were easily faster than the elevator, and he quickly took the steps back and growled in impatient nervousness as he slammed his fist so hard into the elevator's button that he was surprised it didn't shatter like most things did when he was pissed like this. Why was he worried about this idiot? Just yesterday he would've given any sum of money to see Izaya cowering and whining at pain he had inflicted, so why did he feel so damn guilty? No, he responded to himself, 'I don't care. I'm only helping him because Celty wanted it.' But still, the small voice in the back of his mind that strangely resembled an annoying little insect whispered back playfully, 'Whatever.'

Finally the damned elevator doors opened and Shizuo shoved into the small space, thanking the good Lord that no one was inside to see such a spectacle. The infamous Shizuo Heiwajima, the beast as he was usually titled, saving none other than his direct enemy and the sneaky know-it-all Izaya Orihara. It nearly made him sick to think of what the others would see this as.

And why was it going so damned slow?! He swore he would crush the door of the stupid box if it weren't for his arms being full and the startling quick reminder in his head that if he ended up breaking the elevator Izaya probably would die before any repairman could pull them out. That thought and that thought alone kept him still and nearly twitching with fury that couldn't currently be released. Once those doors opened he'd shove the flea into Shinra's care and run off to puke at his good deed and to smash a few heads of any idiot who attempted to fight him out of arrogance, something that happened far more often than he'd be happy to admit. Izaya would wake up and Shizuo would threaten with force that neither the scientist nor the headless biker say a word of what happened. They'd tell him something like he was jumped by the yellow scarves, something that would make the bastard take a few steps down from his high horse and would leave Shizuo completely, one hundred percent out of this.

A small, far too cheery 'ding' rang out to indicate that finally the doors were sliding open. If he had taken the stairs they would've easily been in and out by now but no, of course that wouldn't have worked. The blonde was steaming as he reached out a spare arm (the flea was unusually light, did he even eat?) and pried the doors open due to them opening far too slowly for his impatient tastes. Whoever had designed those things definitely wasn't going for efficiency in the speed department. Shizuo found that the door was already unlocked, Celty no doubt having arrived already and informing Shinra of what she had caught sight off on one of her rides. Hopefully the doctor hadn't gotten caught up in his words and forgotten to prepare to start any treatment necessary.

Shizuo threw the door open, rushing in and, to his slight (SLIGHT) relief, nearly stepping on a large, plastic, bleach white blanket spread out on the floor. The furniture that was usually neatly centered in the possible couple's small apartment living room was shoved aside, a chair tipped to rest on its back, the table leaving drag marks from where it had been shoved to the corner to make room. Shinra was standing beside the kitchen counter, shuffling hastily through a suspiciously large medical bag, as Celty quickly made her way from a back room to the two blood-soaked figures who had practically barged through her front door. Without having time to type what was being processed in her non-existent brain she hurridly pointed to Izaya then to the plastic mat. Shizuo nodded in understanding and kneeled down, sighing one last time as he nearly had to pry the flea's hand off of his vest to release him. If only he had the same manipulative, immature mind as Izaya did; he would be teasing the raven-haired male over this for years.

"I've got everything I think we need!" Shinra declared in some form of victorious tone before skidding to the ground and nearly shoving Shizuo aside in his haste. A low growl in the back of 'the beast''s throat was enough to snap him out of his doctor state enough to remember who exactly he was trying to shove away, and Shinra apologized quietly. Celty was also there, kneeling as they all took on the same expressions, both obviously noticing the same thing that Shizuo had noticed; Izaya doesn't show pain. He would have to be in agony to be flinching at every movement like this, his fists squeezed so tightly around the empty air now that the blonde's vest wasn't within reach that his knuckles were even whiter than they already were, his entire body paler than average from obvious bloodloss. Shinra rushed to do an inspection, feeling the flea's forehead before anything. "He's burning up, looks like his body might be in a panic," the doctor muttered more to himself than to either of the two observers. "Celty, help me pull off his shirt, will you dear?" If she had a face she would've no doubt shot him a glare for the swoozy name-calling but there was no time for that and she quickly leaned over the mat, Shizuo sitting back and watching silently as they worked off the shreds of the ruined jacket that Izaya always wore outside of his home. A voice in the back of the blonde's heavily working mind whispered, 'He ruined your treasured outfit, you ruined his. Even?' Whatever this conscious thing was that was beginning to more frequently appear, he didn't like it. 'Shut up,' he growled in return, thankfully not speaking the words out loud. It was enough for his friends to finally probably see him as a monster, adding 'crazy' to the list wouldn't help his case. There was no doubt he was in for a scolding for beating Izaya down this badly, though they all should've expected it.

Next came his shirt. It was awkward in a way, stripping someone who wasn't conscious enough to deny it, though there wasn't much choice in the matter by this point. Shizuo winced, wishing he had been able to arrive earlier. By now enough time had passed for the bruises to fully form, the cuts to drain into dry, crusted blood that tinted the skin on his chest a dirty crimson, and for the obvious break in either one or a few of the flea's ribs to stick out awkwardly from the rest of his heaving chest. "His ribs are obviously snapped in a few places… the incisions may grow infected if we don't clean them quickly and he'll have to deal with the bruises and possible scarring for a while after. Just how angry were you anyways?" Shinra's self-talk slipped into a question stabbing towards Shizuo but the stronger of the two wasn't in any mood to hold a conversation. "Just fix him already." Honestly the blonde didn't even know why he was still sitting here. Wasn't he going to leave? Dart out of the room and force the two to recite some stupid, humiliating story to explain why he was so ruined all of the sudden? But no, some un-named force held him down, focused his eyes on each wound, and sent a nice jabbing feeling into his chest every time a small tone in his voice would say something like 'That'll probably scar,' 'You really went all out, didn't you?' 'You know he probably remembers what happened without the fake story.' Even his mind was against him now. Celty obviously caught Shizuo zoning out because she pulled out her phone and allowed her fingers to dart over the keys, crawling to her feet and placing herself back to the floor, this time beside her friend, and showing him what she had typed. 'He'll be alright. He'll probably just laugh it off.' That was true… "Thanks," Shizuo grunted quietly. Celty had a way of making people relax slightly, maybe that was why she was possibly the only one Shizuo could go to when he was near the breaking point of his anger and find relief in.

"Uh oh."
"Uh oh what?" Hearing those words from a doctor meant bad things. Very, very bad things. Shinra pulled back something that seemed to be a stethoscope if Shizuo had any remaining knowledge of medical supplies from high school, a dreading look in his eye. He was at a disadvantage, being in a room with two people who would probably strangle him if he came out with bad news. "Well, uh… his head. That's what. I'd be sort of surprised if there wasn't some damage to it, is what I'm saying. Whatever you hit it with ('the concrete', Shizuo nearly muttered) was hard enough to fracture his forehead just slightly."
"Good, maybe he'll get a little dumber, he needs it." He knew that wasn't the correct answer to something as grim as what the doctor was saying but he was in a rotten mood and if Celty and Shinra wouldn't let him toss some of their furniture out the window (they wouldn't) then he'd have to spit his anger out with his words. 'We can't joke around right now,' Celty typed as Shinra irritably went back to his inspection but Shizuo only sighed, rubbing his eye slightly. It was just like the flea to get them all this worked up. "He had a hard head, I've hit him with vending machines and trash cans, all sorts of things, and he's been just fine. Maybe it would be for the greater good anyways for him to wake up without his memories or something," the nicely-dressed male replied halfheartedly despite feeling a little disappointed with his own words. Izaya without memories… Would the flea finally go away for good? He admitted and quickly took it back after doing so, it was pretty entertaining to be able to consistently attack someone without them ever getting too seriously injured. Izaya was the only one (other than Simon, but he was a pacifist) who was able to take a few hits without issue. Another reason to add to the forcefully created list of why he shouldn't feel so pissed off for saving the bastard.

"Alright, so in total I've summed up that… He has a lot of bruises that he'll have to let heal and he'll be pretty sore and exhausted for a while, he has road burn on his left cheek that'll probably need to heal, his cuts will need to be disinfected, he'll have a horrible headache at the end of this…"

'So you think he'll live?' Celty typed, shoving her phone into Shinra's face to snap him from his slowly descending focus. "Yes, though what we need to focus on now are the broken bones and the damage to his head. It also seems extremely likely that he has internal damage from the way he's struggling to breathe and looking into exactly how hard Shizuo can hit. But once we fix the main issues he'll just need patience and time to recover, he'll be alright." Celty's body moved as if she were sighing in relief despite there being no sound or expression to prove it. Despite his silence Shizuo felt a rush of relief like a river flowing through him and relieving just a tiny bit of the fury that was eating him away from the inside. It was so freaking difficult to stay calm like this. Thankfully Shinra seemed to notice. "Shizuo, why don't you go change? I have some of your old clothes from senior year still in my closet, we haven't changed much so they should still fit. Take a shower maybe."
"Right," the blonde responded, not feeling like arguing and trudging off. When he reached the door to Shinra's bedroom he looked back, only able to see black strands contrasting greatly with the blindingly white sheet, an arm that was almost always covered by a sleeve of some sort, now covered with bruises and slashes, and a slight movement as Izaya's fingers tightened further into a deadly grip at his palm.

An hour passed, then another. By now Shizuo had already showered, changed into a white button down and pants resembling the black ones he normally wore, leaving his vest hanging on the shower door so that he could wash off the blood later. The shower had been sickening; he hadn't realized just how covered in the stuff he had been until he saw it staining the running water a horribly bright red, flaking off his skin as he had to scrub and scrub endlessly to peel off the layer that had dried on. He was used to seeing blood, but rarely did it ever get on him, and never in this quantity. What was even more discomforting was knowing that it wasn't his own, but Izaya's blood, that was swirling down the drain. Izaya's blood that wasn't in his body because of Shizuo himself. Again, a wave of guilt washed over him. Why did he care? But he did. He had calmed down enough to allow himself to answer the question truthfully. He cared, he cared greatly, not specifically for Izaya but for the life of someone he had known for years. To know that he nearly ended a life, and a quite positive one at that judging by the playful and cheerful tone Izaya always took to his schemes, would only continue to bother him for the rest of his life. There was a difference between people he knew and random mobsters that tried to idiotically jump him on one of his mindless walks to the park. He knew Izaya's voice, what the male liked, what he disliked. He knew certain things that had happened in his life though vaguely (and probably falsely since the raven-haired man rarely gave out information about himself that was true) and he knew his family, his two younger sisters that pleaded and even offered Izaya's life to meet Shizuo's famous brother. He knew Izaya, less by conversation and more by the way they fought repeatedly. He was fast, cunning, horribly smart and sneaky, not minding playing tricks as Shizuo had learned at their first fight where the flea had sneaked up behind him, tapped him on the shoulder, then slashed him directly through the chest when he turned around to punch again. He was smart and efficient, proven by how he could do serious damage to anyone with something as tiny as a switchblade no matter how many he was up against and even pitting a decent fight against the beast of Ikebukuro himself for such a long time. And no matter how greatly Shizuo loathed the bastard… he didn't want to lose someone that he knew so well. Someone that he understood but refused to accept the opinions of and someone who thought the very same of him. He hated Izaya but there was truth to the fact that no one else would accept a fight with him out of a reason so insane as to 'play around.' His eyes glanced to the clock. Ten-thirty PM. It was late but it hardly mattered, neither him nor the flea had anyone to really return home to and in all honesty the blonde didn't want to leave until he knew for certain how the injured male was holding up. Right as that thought entered his head Celty pushed the door open, her black-gloved hand holding out a bright screen that nearly made Shizuo squint, as he had been sitting in the darkness of the spare room for too long and had grown accustomed to it. 'Shinra's done. Do you want to come out?' With a small, silent nod, the man rose and took a deep breath, preparing himself to leave the room again.

When he entered the bright living room he glanced down to see Shinra with bloody gloved hands and blood-tipped tools of all sorts lining the bloody plastic mat. Honestly it was a little sickening and surprising how much blood one could let out before it affected them too badly. Izaya was breathing quickly as if he were panting slightly but his eyes had relaxed, a soft expression possessing his face, one Shizuo had never seen before. Honestly he didn't look so horribly and aggravatingly malicious when he was sleeping like this. His body had relaxed but there were a few additions. While the smaller cuts remained, Shinra had stitched up the larger ones and a deep incision had been more recently made, probably a slash the doctor had to make himself to open up the flea's chest and work on fixing and examining the major internal damage. The thought of it nearly made Shizuo feel nauseous and he was glad he had left the room after all. Walking out to see organs and gore all over the place wouldn't have welcomed his already worked-up mind all too well.

All that appeared to be left was bandages, a roll of white, tape-like medical cloth being unraveled in Shinra's hand as he cut off of a long piece of it and lifted Izaya's head, beginning to wrap it around and under the strands of slightly messy hair that fell in the way. "It seems like he'll be fine, amazingly. The damage to his head wasn't as great as I figured. I guess you were right, Shizuo," Shinra smiled relaxingly towards the incomer. Shizuo nodded, falling back on one of the chairs that hadn't been shoved off it's legs to make room for the plastic sheet, feeling exhausted all of the sudden, probably still from the amount of force he exerted beating the crap out of his technical enemy. Shinra finished wrapping his head and moved down to begin curling the bandages around Izaya's chest. The male had probably recovered some of his blood as his skin was fading back into shade again and was retaining its color once more. He still remained peacefully unconscious. "He passed out around halfway through… I didn't want to give him any anesthesia without knowing how he'd react to it so…"
"So you cut him open while he was awake?" Shinra flinched at the guilt-inflicting tone that Shizuo took on, turning back to deny with a debating preparedness, "It's not like you're any different."

Then Celty, who had been absent from the room for a while, came in holding something that made both of the boys freeze for a second. Shinra was the first to recover, jumping to his feet after finishing wrapping Izaya's chest to hold his weakly repaired ribs in place. "Oh, Celty! I didn't know you were in to that sort of thing! I know this is a bad time but tonight for sure we'll reenact all of your wildest dreams and..~!" He was silenced by a loud 'smack' as the headless rider smashed her phone into his forehead, four words written in bold font on the screen: 'Shut up, you idiot.' Despite the rude reply Shinra rubbed his head and lowered himself down with no grudge held once-so-ever, continuing to finish the final touches on Izaya's treatment as Celty then made her way to Shizuo, typing hastily and showing him her words once she arrived to the chair he was reclining in. 'Knowing him he'll try to run off in the middle of the night. If someone happened to attack him while he's in this state there's a high chance he'll be hurt further. I figured we should probably use these to keep him from leaving before he's healed enough.'
"Makes sense," Shizuo replied, admitting that he was slightly amused and curious to see how the flea would react to waking up handcuffed to the bed. "If Shinra's done then I'll help carry him to the spare room."
'Do you want to sleep here as well? It's gotten late.' Normally Shizuo would deny such an offer, the blonde rarely enjoying taking advantage of other's hospitality, unlike a certain someone in most cases where he had the choice. Besides, he was generally an introvert and preferred time alone to be greater in quantity than time spent with others. But then again, if something did happen overnight it would be his fault for inflicting those wounds in the first place, and he didn't want to stand for any more guilt, so he nodded with a partial sigh. "Sure. Thanks."