Warnings: Muraki being Muraki with insane moments thrown in and Hisoka realizing just how much life sucked without Tsuzuki.

Chapter 3

He could sit up on his own now. He would have been proud of such an accomplishment if it wasn't such a stupid one. H pushed a stray lock of hair from his eyes, pausing as he caught sight of his wrist. The bruises and puncture wounds were still there. He stared at it for a long moment. He no longer knew what to feel about them. He had been about to get raped, yet again, and, he realized with a small bitter chuckle, that it was highly ironic how his first rapist had saved him from his second.

Muraki was sitting besides him when he came out of la la land and he stared at the man with curious, wide eyes. They were back in the woods after having left the strange village. The doctor's face was void of any emotion, yet Hisoka could sense that something was bothering him.

He debated on whether or not he cared enough to ask, but Muraki had saved him twice, so perhaps he should. Damn his inner Tsuzuki!

"Um." Saying it was a lot harder than thinking about saying it. He shifted nervously, eyes shifting to and away from the man.

"Hey, uh, Muraki." He paused, throat closing as those eyes turned to gaze at him. "I…um."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Are…are you okay?"

There was silence for a long time before a chuckle reached his ears and he opened one green eye to peer confusingly at the man.

"Are you trying to cheer me up bouya?" His eyes seemed to glint in amusement, lips stretching into a guanine, as far as he could tell, smile.

He felt the blush heat his cheeks and his other eyes popped open as he glared at the man. The doctor chuckled again and patted him on the head, ignoring his flinch, and even as the man turned away to once again stare into space, Hisoka felt that things were better.

……………..

If it wasn't for the fact that he was annoyed, then he would have been able to ignore the calm feelings. How did the doctor do it? Of course, Hisoka knew that the man could feel, it was quite obvious, with Saki around, but it was irritating how calm he could be. It was like rubbing salt on wounds, his own irritable emotions clashing almost violently.

He refused to let these feelings go, but he had to, if he didn't want to say something he shouldn't. He felt the calm heartbeat against his cheek, and he flinched, wondering how someone so evil could have one, but…he hadn't been that bad, and the Empath was ashamed and frightened, to know that he was starting to feel safe, in those arms, the same arms that had…his breath hitched and he froze as those eyes came to rest upon him, cold, calm.

They stared at each other for a long time, too long to be able to look that man straight in the eyes, an action he would not have been able to do a few days before.

"Are you afraid bouya?" A smile lined those lips and Hisoka whimpered.

"Muraki, don't, please." He knew not why he pleaded, but he did not want to see that smile, the one he had seen so many times, not with how the doctor was now.

That smile disappeared at the plea, and the calm feelings were suddenly in turmoil. The boy drew back, trying to get as far away as he could from those despairing feelings.

Arms tightened around his body and he was hard pressed not to scream at being held so tightly. "Muraki!" That seemed to wake the doctor up, but not with the reaction he hoped.

He could not do anything but gasp as he was pinned to a tree, dangling weakly. A hot mouth was instantly on his neck, sucking and biting roughly, trying to hurt him.

But even as he shook, mind reeling from the sudden change, something felt wrong. The emotions leaking from the doctor were dark, painful, hurting and the darker they got, the more painful the bites on his neck were.

Was this what Muraki did when he was hurting? Was this why he hurt people, to heal just a little of the hurt he was feeling?

Panting in both pain and exhaustion, Hisoka grunted as he tried to lift his arms. It was a fight, but he somehow managed to get them around Muraki's shoulders.

The reaction was instant, the doctor froze, then pulled away to look at him.

He felt the confusion but paid no heed to it as he leaned forward, eyes staring intensely into the doctor's.

"I can't take any more damage, my body can't handle it." His voice was quiet, but firm.

It was hard to look at him and talk to him as he did, but he had too, and he refused to let Muraki run over him.

A strange glint entered those eyes and the doctor smiled again, only this time it almost seemed real. He said nothing, only picked him up and continued on his way, ignoring the annoyed grumbles from his doll, no doubt from the fresh, aching bites on his neck.

He smiled at them. His doll was amusing, still weak but full of determination. And he strangely, for the first time, found himself respecting him for it.

…………….

The sun was setting when Muraki decided to set camp. Said camp was only settling under a thick, twisted tree, that did no good protecting against the cold that was quickly seizing their bodies.

There was no food to cook, but Hisoka did not feel hungry, only numb with cold and old pain.

To Muraki's credit, he did try the best he could to warm the boy, though his own body only tinged slightly at the cold. It still felt weird and unsettling to be held against Muraki, no matter how many times he had been in such a position for the last few days.

The doctor's shirt was soft and comfortable against his cheek. The white coat the man usually wore was wrapped securely around his body, and the calm feelings made him pleasantly drowsy, and he was left unable to keep from closing his eyes.

……………..

The sound of bushes rustling awakened him and he blinked slightly sleepy green eyes. It had gotten much darker, no doubt hours later from which he had first fallen asleep. The bushes rustled again, bringing him into full alert. He sat up carefully, mindful of whose lap he sat on and whose arms that currently trapped his body.

Hisoka looked up seeing that Muraki was still asleep, silver platinum hair falling over his one mechanical looking eye, enclosed behind one pale eyelid.

Sharp green eyes looked out into the darkness. His mind raced with solutions, his body tensing. He could have awoken Muraki, but the man had to be tired if he hadn't awaken already, but he knew that he wasn't strong enough to defend them if things came to such.

He watched the bushes for a long time, and once he saw the red eyes glaring out at him from the shadows he lifted his hands and placed them on Muraki's shoulders.

"Muraki!"

Mismatched eyes opened and Hisoka spoke to him from the side of his mouth, eyes still focused on the creature.

"There's something in the bushes over there."

He was settled onto the ground as Muraki stood, face looking as if he could care less about being attacked. Although his expression was blank, Hisoka could feel how tired he was, mind unfocused and jittery. The boy could not blame him.

Walking for days carrying someone while fighting occasional battles and without proper food and water was not something he could imagine doing.

The bushes rustled again and then there was nothing but confusion. He was rolling on the ground from being pushed, and even when he stopped, he could not see anything. He heard the roars, felt and heard the use of powerful magic, and yet his vision was black. He couldn't even tell if his eyes were open, and as he lifted his hand to touch around his face, he realized that his eyes were working just fine. It was the area around him that was dark. What kind of creature, could control shadows?

He suddenly thought of Tatsumi. Were the Shadow Master's powers anything like this? And if so, what exactly was the secretary? It was a particularly nasty thought, and also one that held no water.

He, along with everyone else in the Shokan Division had something not quite right about them, a group of misfits with dark pasts of pain and sorrow. It did not matter, because they were only shinigami because of their pasts.

A loud shriek exploded from his left, startling him to falling onto his side. He laid there, breaths coming out in shallow pants, unable to really move himself.

The shadows around him quivered as if a living thing, and then receded, the dim light of the moon once again lighting the night. Hisoka lifted his head the best he could, arms struggling to lift his admittingly small weight. A flash of silver and then Muraki was there, covered in blood the color of the deepest black, highlighting his pale face and hair.

The boy stared back at him, his mouth forming a disgusted scowl, a clear refusal to being touched with such filth. Muraki simply ignored him, settling a foot away from him and promptly falling asleep.

It was a bit unfair, and a small feeling of guilt began to churn unpleasantly in his stomach and he felt slightly sick from it. And from lack of anything to do, he too simply fell asleep.

…………….

When he opened his eyes, he was not in the same place he fell asleep at, and it was the fresh smell and sound of running water that he heard and sure enough, there was a river running right in front of him, and he didn't think he had heard anything so relieving in a long while.

He was propped up against a tree, Muraki's jacket still wrapped around his body. The thought of Muraki carrying him around while he was unconscious was a thought better let to ponder about later. He grunted, fiercely determined to move, and slowly, surprisingly, he did, inching up slowly. He used the tree to help pull himself up, and once he did, he gripped it hard, feeling his legs wobble unsteadily, but, he realized, he felt stronger than he had in a long time.

It took a few minutes for his kegs to stop shaking, and another few for him to be sure that he would be able to stay up. His trek to the river was not an easy one, but Hisoka refused to give up.

The large rocks running along the river gave him a bit of trouble, but his patience won out and he prevailed. He sunk down gratefully, cupping water in his hands and brining it to his mouth to take a long thirty drink.

When satisfied, he looked around, not spotting Muraki or anyone else for that matter and he debated this for a long moment, his hands hesitating on his sweater. His want for cleanliness won out over his reservations.

He pulled the sweater off and hesitated even longer to even look at his pants. His fingers idly caressed the button and he looked around, stalling for as long as possible to make sure no one was around.

Finally, after closing his eyes as if it hurt, he stripped himself completely and walked into the river, wrapping his arms tightly around himself, teeth chattering as goose bumps appeared.

The water was very cold, but only slightly bearable. Tsuzuki would scold him for doing this….

His eyes dropped to stare at the cold water. He wanted Tsuzuki's warmth, and security so desperately, felt something inside of himself screaming for it. He had gone too long without love and care and when he finally had it and was slowly getting used to it, it was snatched away.

It hurt. His self-hug was no longer because of the cold, but because of the aching loneliness inside. Clenching his teeth, he abruptly dunked himself, wanting the biting cold to take this pain away and replace it with another. He was used to pain, no matter what form it took, and in what essence.

He stayed under until his chest ached with agony and he surfaced, hurting even more as he gasped deeply. He scrubbed himself and hurriedly climbed out to dress himself.

When he turned to return to the tree, he froze as mismatched eyes watched him in interest. Muraki was clean, and his jacket was once again an important part of his outfit.

Hisoka trembled. Had Muraki watched him bathe?

"H-how long were you there?" His voice quivered slightly, his heart pounding.

Muraki smiled. "Long enough." He answered and Hisoka knew that he must have been there the whole time.

His fists clenched, and he felt himself shake in anger. He didn't know what he could possibly say, or do for that matter. What could he do? Nothing he did could hurt Muraki.

The man seemed to know what he was thinking because his smile widened. "No need to be angry bouya. I only looked after you were dressed."

He was not sure whether to be relieved or not, so he simply ignored the teasing doctor and turned away.

The wind was blowing now, yet he felt nothing against his skin, the only sign of it happening was his hair blowing into his eyes. That was strange…….How could wind not be felt?

He looked back to see that Muraki had noticed as well, a small frown on his lips as his eyes narrowed. There was a moment of terrifying silence as the wind stopped and then there were screams, frightening high pitched wails of loss and agony and Hisoka's heart stopped, his face paling as bile gathered in the back of his throat.

He forcefully swallowed it down, his legs threatening to collapse as he stumbled over towards Muraki. He did not want to see what was causing those tormented wails of anguish, but if they could save them perhaps…..

He was slung onto Muraki's back as if he weighed nothing and he probably really didn't, and the man set off into a small jog. Hisoka knew that the man could careless about anyone. No, the man was merely curious.

The trees were starting to thicken, so it became especially hard to pass through easily. Hisoka was just opening his mouth to tell Muraki that he could walk when another batch of screams came and this time it was closer, and Hisoka felt as if his very heart had fallen dead from them, yet he could not die.

But there was something strange going on. He felt nothing, no emotions to go with the screams. There was nothing but silence in his head, as if it were hollow, and yet his ears still rung from the high pitched screams. It was like they weren't reaching his brain or his empathy. He knew not whether to be relieved or not.

The trees broke off abruptly and suddenly they were standing before a village. Everything stood still, and quiet, as if nothing was wrong. Muraki let him slide off his back, eyes narrowed as he pondered what exactly was wrong. From his doll's face, he could see that the boy was confused about something.

His eyes were wide, and he kept looking around as if looking for something.

"I can't feel anything." He whispered softly, and Muraki knew at once that the boy thought that it was Tsuzuki he was whispering to.

"There is no one here." He said, watching intently as Hisoka jumped, eyes widening even more before he looked away, trembling hands curling into fists.

"But the screams were coming from here, and-"He cut himself off as the screams started again, and this time, something happened.

It didn't come fast with any kind of real threat, but slowly, creeping upon the huts as if slowly devouring the poorly built structures. They were translucent, vague outlines of beings, their fingers curled as they climbed, as if searching for something, the act of digging there fingers into the straw roofs more desperate then it should be.

Watching them, Hisoka felt as if his heart were freezing, shivers racking his small form. His pulse slowed instead of speeding up. His body was numbing, and he could actually see his breath, small puffs of smoke coming from his mouth.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight, horrifying, gruesome sight, a fear settling deep within him. And suddenly, their heads turned, and Hisoka screamed, clenching his eyes shut, but the image of them was burned into his head.

He heard a loud curse and then he was picked up.

………………………

Someone was stroking his hair. It was a strange, sensation, considering the last few days. At first, he thought perhaps it had all been a dream, but the images of those grotesque faces proved otherwise. He slowly blinked open his eyes, and stared wide eyed at the unfamiliar face right above his.

A smile curved humanoid lips. "Good. You're awake."

The voice was kind, and Hisoka could feel the amusement wafting from him.

"I'm Da'an, and who would you be?"