To all who have been so patiently waiting: thank you, especially Anibee, Kitomi, Caddris, Samurai101, and Haunted Obsidian.

On with the fic, review, and I don't own these characters.

Just thought I'd throw that little disclaimer in there.

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"Sickness shows us what we are."

-- Latin proverb

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"When I find him," Saito muttered as he continued his sojourn to the kitchen. "I'm going to take his head and --" He made a violent motion in midair.

Saito thought of Togusa as a catastrophically precocious younger sibling. It made things easier to deal with in the long run and he was used to it. Thus, he had decided that as the person in Section 9 who had had dealings with such creatures, he was the one who would look after the detective.

When, of course, Togusa wasn't wandering off, getting shot whilst under cover, and being an all around twit.

The sniper was so involved in his mental complaints that he almost walked past the kitchen door. The sounds of Togusa regurgitating snapped him back.

Saito hurried back through the door and discovered the man hanging over the sink, heaving violently.

He pulled Togusa's hair back with one hand and laid the other between the detective's shoulder-blades. Togusa made a gurgling noise before vomiting the final remains of his previous meal.

"That's it," Saito said encouragingly. "Get it all out."

Togusa did not reply. He dry-heaved twice instead before sliding to the ground and pressing his face against the cabinet door.

Instead of saying anything, Saito ran water from the tap.

Closing his eyes, Togusa listened as the other man opened the cabinet above the sink and removed something; as the coffee maker gurgled away; and his own stomach, now empty, rumbled discontentedly.

Saito sat down next to him and pressed something into his hands.

It was a cup. Togusa drank from it; plain water.

"I should kill you," Saito said.

"Probably." His voice was so rough. "But then we'd never get the blood out of the carpet."

"Idiot." Saito grasped Togusa's arm and hauled him to his feet. "C'mon. You're going back to sleep."

Too tired to argue, Togusa simply set the cup down on the counter and allowed himself to be dragged away.

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Motoko's face had gone completely flat as Batou relayed Saito's amused report of his activities. Then she sighed and returning her gaze to the road, said "Batou, when Togusa is feeling better, thrash him."

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As the leader of Section 9, it was Aramaki Daisuke's job to make sure his subordinates were, if not happy, content. This was especially important in their dangerous line of work, since if any of them happened to be irritated about something, they had many options to choose from to express this. If any of them happened to be angry, then...

Aramaki sometimes wondered if he was the only one who had actually thought of the destruction Togusa could have caused if they hadn't gotten to him sooner.

Speaking of.

He tapped his pen against his desk.

Togusa was ill. He also refused to see a doctor, and would only take the most general of medications. Something had to be done.

Aramaki just wasn't convinced that he ought to be the one to do it.

The events surrounding the beginning of the year 2031 were not a source of great pride for the man. He had allowed the opinions of his team to influence him into taking their findings straight to the Prime Minister. That hadn't been part of his original plan; discussion with Togusa had produced the idea of simply giving the information to the Niihama Police Department and letting them take it from there.

But the rest of Section 9 had protested. He had listened, and the results had been nothing short of catastrophic. Forced to come up with a plan to protect their most vulnerable member, he had done his best to make sure Togusa remained as unharmed as possible. Then, there had been the long months of silence where he had worked, and waited, and hoped. Eventually they had gathered back together.

Except for Togusa.

He had never believed their story about police surveillance interfering with their ability to communicate, and Aramaki couldn't blame him. Ishikawa had come up with it right on the spot; in another show of arrogance, no one had thought that Togusa would ask questions and they hadn't crafted a believable explanation for their absence. The result was a conflicted team, with a confused Togusa on one side and a tense group of cyborgs on the other.

Stupidity. Stupidity and blind arrogance, with nothing to show for their subterfuge.

The point was, Togusa wasn't going to accept any help. He had been unfailingly polite and courteous every time Aramaki saw him, and nothing else.

All the same, something had to be done.

"Major," he said. "Come see me as soon as you have Togusa settled."

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By the time Motoko and Batou arrived, Togusa was already asleep.

Motoko stowed his duffel bag under the table and then turned back to his limp frame.

Feeling oddly parental, she straightened out his blanket until it wasn't bunched around his shoulders. Then she brushed his damp hair out his face, and pressed her palm against his forehead.

His chills had dropped off into a minute trembling, but his skin was still too hot.

And he thinks he's too cold, she thought angrily.

Underneath her hand, the frown lines that permeated Togusa's forehead deepened and he began coughing violently. Motoko winced and steadied him as best she could.

The fit subsided quickly, but did nothing for her peace of mind. And, of course, she had to go see the Chief.

"Someone get down here, and watch Togusa," she ordered. "I have to talk to the Chief, and I don't want him along."

Muttered affirmatives answered her. She gave Togusa one final look and then headed for the door.

The note bearing Dr. Kiritani's phone number was burning a hole in her pocket. Once this little audience was over, she was going to make the phone call.

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The rap on the door was clipped and sounded impatient. Telling Major to come in, Aramaki picked an info pad(1) and activated it.

Motoko sat down in the chair closest to his desk, looking supremely annoyed. "Yes?"

Instead of giving a verbal reply, he handed her the pad.

She flicked through it. Her mouth tightened and she said, "Togusa isn't getting involved with this one. He's not well enough."

"I hope he doesn't have to."

"His wife gave me a doctor to call."

"I suggest you do so."

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Akio Kiritani had been Meijiro's OB/GYN. He no longer practiced in either field, but instead favored diagnostic medicine.

His long, straight red hair was almost always pulled back in a ponytail, and his green eyes were almost always half-shut, giving the impression that he hadn't had enough sleep. He also wore three unprofessional blue studs in his left ear, and a single silver ring in the top of his right. Tall, and very attractive, men usually hated him and women usually loved him. He was in his mid-thirties, but looked like he was only twenty-five.

Togusa did not necessarily get along with Akio. The first time they met, Togusa had made some passing comments about medical practice that Akio had not appreciated; things had gone downhill from there.

It didn't really help that Akio was cold, brusque, had no bedside manner whatsoever, and that his initial opinion of Togusa and his background had not been complementary.

This relationship had not endured, of course. Akio would, now and again, give Togusa a smile, while his counterpart treated him with an amused disdain.

Motoko didn't know any of this when she called the phone number and explained the situation.

It was probably better that way.

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(1) This is one of those little computer things you always see floating around. Togusa used one to take inventory in RE-VIEW and you also see a lot of them in AG20.