Author's Note: I've decided to go ahead and bump the rating up to M- not for this chapter specifically, but for the difficult subject matter in the last chapter and in the future.


Just as expected, the hall cleared out the moment Gilbert decided to stop playing. Ivan, Mathias and Arthur got up and returned to their respective rooms without a word to each other, and Gilbert disappeared in the other direction. Ivan was able to fall asleep in his room, and this time, he dreamt only of Yao. For once, he was calm. The next morning, things went back to the tense, cold, unfriendly atmosphere they considered normal. It was comforting, somehow.

But there was nothing normal or comforting about Matthew's sudden announcement that morning: In just a few days, they would be starting family therapy. Family members had already been notified, somehow, because privacy did not exist in this place. Oh well. Ivan was certain his sisters would not come. After the explosion that took place last night, why would they? Ivan did not even want them to come. He wanted to forget the phone call, forget he had told them anything, forget any of what he told them had even happened in the first place.

He removed these thoughts from his mind through simple means- whenever they passed through his mind, threatened to destroy his world again, Ivan did one of two things: tightened the scarf, or bit down on the inside of his mouth. He was only satisfied when he felt lightheaded or tasted blood. Days passed, and he could tell it was beginning to work. Ivan could sense it. Maybe he should not even be in this place. He could very easily take care of these little 'problems' himself. Actually, he was certain he should not be here. But no matter how well he was doing on his own, he continued to take the pills he was still suspicious of. They were becoming easier to swallow, almost a routine. He did it for Yao.

Eventually, the first day of this supposed 'family therapy' came around. Ivan was hardly concerned anymore. So while family members of other patients filtered in, he simply sat and observed. It was quite a sight when three men with varying shades of red hair burst in and nearly assaulted Arthur, speaking on top of each other with accents that all managed to be more obnoxious than his. A rather bored looking blond was barely able to make it through the door before Mathias pounced on him and kissed him in a way that was borderline obscene, only to be shoved off and sworn at moments later. Ivan chuckled. So this was Lukas. Poor thing.

Even Gilbert had company. It did not take long for Ivan to recognize the man who approached him- slicked blonde hair, stern expression, a presence that demanded more respect than he probably deserved. He remembered him from the first day he met Yao, from that one world changing, intense moment in the hallway. This man- Ludwig, if Ivan was remembering Matthew's frantic tone correctly- was the one to take Ivan away. He felt a spark of anger, but let it die. It was in the past. What amused him was how tense these two men were with each other. Ivan quickly came to the conclusion that they were brothers, but judging by the way they managed to glare at each other and pretend the other wasn't there at the same time, they might as well have been strangers if not archenemies. Laughter rose in his chest when he realized he would not have to deal with any of this-

"IVAN!"

Ivan suddenly did not feel like laughing anymore. For a moment, he did not move at all. He did not want to turn around, did not want to face what he once thought was impossible but had suddenly became inevitable. Time almost stopped, but it snapped into double speed when Ivan turned around, his chest seizing, to see Katyusha charging at him. Natalia followed at a much slower pace, her gaze locked on the floor and her features frozen. He was nowhere close to being over the shock when Katyusha suddenly embraced him. "Ivan, do you realize how worried we were?"

"I…" Ivan was glad they were speaking in Russian. He absolutely did not want anyone else in the room to hear this. "How did you get here?"

Katyusha dropped her arms, twisted around and waved frantically towards the door. Ivan followed her line of sight to see a perky, bespectacled young man waving back, a charismatic grin plastered across his face. "We flew in after you called. Oh, Ivan, it was such a trip! We thought we were stranded, and then Alfred…" She stopped speaking abruptly and turned back around. "None of that matters! When were you planning to tell us where you've been?"

Ivan was planning to never tell them. That had always been his plan, it had even been working quite well, but of course he had to ruin everything with one foolish night of weakness and insanity. Even though suspicions were likely to arise the moment he stopped sending money, he could have found a way around this. Of course he could have, but now he did not even have the choice. Ivan could nearly feel himself losing control. Anger burned in his gut as he grit his teeth. He should not have to deal with this, dammit!

"You should not have come." He took a step backwards, eyes narrowing. "That trip, it must have been dangerous. And to think you went with some child…" Ivan shook his head and shot a look of disgust to the boy his sisters had apparently come in with, who was now babbling loudly in a grating American accent to a perplexed Arthur. He did not trust him with his sisters, and for some odd reason, he did not trust his sisters with him. Ivan could not even decide what powerful emotion was the strongest- anger, panic, or just plain confusion.

Natalia pushed Katyusha aside and spoke for the first time since entering the room. "Ivan, you cannot unload all of that information at once and expect us to ignore it."

Truthfully, Ivan had little to no recollection of what he said during that phone call. All he was fully aware of were the consequences that conversation had caused. Though it felt like fighting through a thick fog, he finally said, "You should not trouble yourselves with it."

Ivan's stomach clenched as Natalia dug her nails into his arm. She spoke in a whisper, though it should have been a yell. "Did you just tell us not to trouble ourselves with-"

But Matthew, who had once again come from nowhere, cut Natalia off. He felt Natalia pull her hand away, and for once Ivan was ecstatic to strain his ears in order to hear that too-quiet voice. "We're going to start the sessions soon. Do you want to go first?"

Maybe Ivan was not happy to hear him after all. His throat too dry to form a response, he glanced at Katyusha only to look away when he saw her face was pinched. He did not dare to look at Natalia. He felt trapped, as if he had somehow managed to back himself into a corner. It was an uncomfortable, foreign feeling, yet there was no way to deny it this time. With his hand clutching his scarf for dear life and a heavy dread in his stomach, he said, "Da. This is fine."

.

Ivan was certain Matthew's office had never been so warm, although he was also certain that was caused by his sister's eyes burning into his skin rather than the temperature itself. For far too long of a moment, no one said a word. Matthew simply stared at them with a hollow, meaningless sympathetic expression, as if all it took was a smile to erase the tension hanging in the air like knives. Of course that would not do anything, but he spoke as if it did. "Natalia, Katyusha, it's so lovely to finally meet you. How was your trip?"

Katyusha at least attempted a smile, though it was small and wary. "Oh, it was-"

"Long, and terrible," interrupted Natalia. Her accent was still thick. It reminded Ivan of places, people from a long time ago.

Ivan fought an entire war within himself, all for the purpose of maintaining a smile. It was the last normal thing in this mess of abnormality. "You did not need to come." He twisted his scarf around in his hands, so tightly his knuckles turned white as snow. Then he tilted his head and smiled a bit brighter, lied a bit more. "Everything is fine."

Katyusha stopped smiling with a heavy sigh. She turned to Ivan, face unreadable, and said, "Things are obviously far from fine, Ivan."

Ivan crinkled his nose, disgusted and nervous but completely unwilling to show it. "I do not know what you are talking about."

Natalia huffed and rolled her eyes. "I always knew something was wrong with him…" Her voice faded out. It wasn't very loud to begin with, but to Ivan, she might as well have been shouting. He heard her just fine, loud enough to make the words echo in his ears and clear enough to boil his blood.

In an attempt to maintain the authority he knew he deserved, Ivan squared his shoulders. He was still smiling, so he was still in control. "What?"

"Guys," said Matthew, just about as loudly as it was possible for him to be. "Let's try and make this a positive experience, okay?"

That ship had sailed some time ago. However, Ivan was willing to listen to whatever nonsense Matthew had to say as long as it kept his sisters from speaking. So even though there was a storm raging beneath his skin, he looked at the boy and smiled without uttering a word.

Matthew laid his hands on his knees. "Alright. Natalia, Katyusha, why don't we start by discussing your feelings towards the current circumstances?"

"My English in not best, forgive me." Katyusha smiled in a way no one could be annoyed with. Usually, that smile was comforting. Now it was just unnerving. She folded her hands in her lap and lifted her eyes slowly, carefully to meet Matthew's. "I would say it is overwhelming, mostly. We learned Ivan was here only days ago."

Matthew shot Ivan a quizzical, if not slightly accusatory side-glance. Ivan quickly looked away and pretended not to see. He did not know where to look, what to do, how to slow his pulse or how to escape this. He settled on picking at the fraying ends of his scarf while Matthew spoke. "That's understandable. Natalia, how about you? What do you think about-"

But of course, he was cut off. "Overwhelming? He dropped off the face of the planet. I would say overwhelming is an understatement." Natalia crossed her arms and glared directly at him. Ivan's stomach dropped to his feet when he realized everyone in the room was now staring directly at him, like he was a fish in a bowl. "Not to mention what you told us."

Ivan's pulse accelerated even further, now beating so quickly it was threatening to explode beneath his feverish skin. They knew too much. Everyone is this damn room knew too much, pushed too far, stared too intently. He needed to get out of this room, get out of his head. Oh god, he needed to escape, this needed to end…

Matthew tilted his head. "What did you tell them, Ivan?"

"I…" Ivan locked his trembling hands together. He had little recollection of that phone call. At least, he thought he did. Suddenly he remembered every detail, every confession he regretted more than anything, every question and scar and memory…He closed his eyes briefly, a sad and ultimately unsuccessful attempt to clear his mind. "I do not remember." It was a lie he wished was the truth.

"How can you not remember?" Katyusha's voice was teetering on the edge of being strained, the calm in her eyes obviously artificial.

Ivan's gaze switched between his sisters, Matthew, and finally the window. The only thing that managed to even his breathing was a fleeting fantasy of jumping from it. His pulse was so heavy it shook his lungs, numbed his mind. He attempted to speak through a closed throat. "I just..." No, he was normal, everything was normal, nothing was wrong with him, nothing… "I do not remember. Everything is fine." The last sentence was almost unconscious.

"Nothing about this is fine, Ivan!" Natalia's face burned a sudden, angry red. Ivan shrunk in his seat, his skin clammy and ice cold. He wondered where the air had disappeared to, why the room was spinning…

Matthew cut through the chaos. Ivan had nearly forgotten he was still in the room. "Guys, if you would please calm down…"

"How am I supposed to calm down? Really, how am I supposed to react when my brother calls us in the middle of the day and tells us he was-"

Ivan felt an explosive zing of panic, strong enough to be blinding, deafening. He was not even relieved when Katyusha stopped her from speaking by grapping her arm and mumbling something in Russian. He lost the ability to even understand her words, or breathe, or think, or stop his vision from tunneling into a twist of colors he could hear and sound he could see-

Matthew spoke slowly, too slowly. "What exactly did he tell you?" He did not even bother to address Ivan anymore. In a way, Ivan was relieved. He was incapable of answering.

Katyusha's face went a shade paler. "Well, it is a bit of a long story. I suppose I could start with-"

"Ivan was raped!"

Silence. After the muck of conflicting voices had stopped with Natalia's world ending, nauseating words, the room was suddenly filled with it. It was thunderous, deadly, and the only thing Ivan could hear above the heartbeat flooding his ears. His scarf was not tight enough. The teeth digging into his cheek were not sharp enough. Like a dam that had finally burst, it was all in the open, cutting him like glass and twisting him into odd shapes. He could not be sure if he felt ill or panicked, but the emotion pulsed through his veins and stopped his heart.

Without warning, everything was still. Ivan did not even realize he had stood until he began to speak. "This is done." He said the words above everyone's heads, finally taking control. "All of this, it is done now. Girls, please go home."

Matthew looked up at him with wide, unblinking eyes. "Ivan, I think it's pretty critical that we discuss this."

"No." Ivan shook his head. He was not sure when or if he stopped. "No, that will not be necessary. Everything is fine. I am fine."

Natalia shot to her feet, rivaling the control Ivan had finally gained. "Ivan."

For once, her chilling tone and hard gaze did not unnerve Ivan in the slightest. He felt cold, numb, unable to feel or think anything. He felt as if the blood had been drained from his body, right along with every emotion he had ever had. He lifted his gaze, narrowed his eyes and looked at her through lowered lashes. During the silence that followed, he could at least pretend to feel calm, collected, and in control. He even smiled again. The familiar emptiness pooling in his gut did not even matter. "Go home, little sister."

And again the silence. Matthew let out a soft, resigned sigh, Natalia took a careful step back, and Katyusha grasped her arm. Ivan was caught between equally powerful urges to cry out joyfully or dissolve into tears, so he only kept smiling. He said it was over, so it ended. Things were finally as they should be… on the surface, anyway.

Less than an hour later, the calamity that filled the hospital filtered out into something normal. Natalia and Katyusha were the first to depart, followed by the three red-haired men. The last to leave was Ludwig, who rushed out of Matthew's office with a flushed face and balled fists. Ivan would have amused himself imagining what could have happened between him and Gilbert if he did not feel so completely, painfully empty. It was not that he was not used to the feeling. In fact, he knew it better than anything else.

Only this time, it burned deeper. Ivan felt hollow, unreal, almost as if he were a ghost. Time moved in slow motion around him. The sky had darkened from the other side of the window, but he was partially sure he was only imagining it until the rain started. Ivan followed a drop of water with his eyes, then another, then another, and repeated the process until he was no longer thinking. Once this grew tiresome and ineffective, he forced himself on his feet though his limbs felt heavy. He would not have bothered to move unless he had an important, undeniable purpose, and he had one.

This time, he was fully aware of the number he was dialing when he picked up the phone.

.

When the phone started ringing and shattered the silence in his office, Yao promptly dropped the box he was carrying on his foot. Great. He already had his throbbing head to deal with, and now he had gone and hurt his foot. Cursing under his breath, he kicked his desk chair aside and collapsed against it. Figures. Just when he was about to leave after working for far too long, there was yet another thing to do. Damn these solicitors. He was nearly sure it was one of them, if not a coworker. He supposed there was a slim chance it was Kiku, though Yao had hardly been speaking to his brother lately. He sincerely hoped it was the latter, considering he was in absolutely no mood to deal with anything else business related that day. It had been a long, long week.

Without even bothering to check the caller ID, Yao picked up the phone, slammed the TALK button with far more force than necessary, and tried not to sound as annoyed as he felt. "Hello?"

There was not an immediate answer. Yao sighed and nearly hung up, but the voice that followed the silence broke his annoyance to pieces. "Yao." There was a heavy, weighted sigh. "Thank you for picking up, Yao."

Yao was rendered speechless. He had not expected it to be Ivan, and even if he had, he would not have expected him to sound so dejected. His voice usually rose and fell like soap bubbles, usually popped in bursts of lilting laughter. Now, he sounded as if he had just woken up after sleeping a decade. Yao could not deny the drop in his stomach. "Ivan? Is everything alright?"

"Not exactly, no." Ivan's response was concerning in itself. If Yao knew one thing about him, it was that he never admitted to anything being less than perfect. If there was an apocalypse raging behind his back, Ivan would likely smile and say everything was fine. Yao said nothing, waiting for an explanation for such odd behavior. And by God, he got that explanation. "My sisters just left."

"Oh." Yao drummed his fingers against the wood of the desk. He swallowed hard and stared blankly at the wall in front of him, as if the answers would be written somewhere on it. "Did you tell them?" The question was intentionally open-ended.

"Sort of. Is a bit of a long story, really…" And it was obvious Ivan did not want to tell that long story, because his voice faded out before he could even finish the sentence. His voice was even quieter when he continued. "Can you visit?"

What a difference a few weeks made. After the first time he had visited, Ivan practically demanded that Yao come back. Now, he sounded nothing less than timid simply asking. Yao felt an ache in his chest, one that he could not blame entirely on sympathy. "I mean…" He glanced at the clock sitting on his desk and saw it was nearly six in the evening. In all honesty, all he had wanted to do all day was go home and collapse in his bed. The idea suddenly felt like a waste of time. "Sure. I just finished up at work."

"You are amazing, Yao." Ivan's voice broke, and for a split second he almost sounded how he usually did. That did not last. "I will see you soon?" It was almost a question, a bit too hopeful to just be a statement.

"Yes." Yao could not even shock himself with his eagerness anymore. "I will see you soon."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you…" Ivan broke off, though he sounded as if he could have gone on forever. "I will see you, sunflower."

Though the pet name was silly and familiar, Yao felt a suspicious quickening in his pulse. It took him a moment to remember to respond. "See you."

Despite feeling overwhelmingly fatigued just minutes before, Yao found himself filled with a sudden energy the moment he set the phone down. He was caught between being perplexed by the mood swing and wishing things could just make sense again. Where had his careful, guarded hesitance about all of this gone? He supposed it had left right around the time his sanity did, right along with the logic, reason and dependability of his life before all of this had started. But Yao did not miss any of that. It was unreasonable at best and downright insane at worst, but all Yao missed was the sound of Ivan's laugh.

.

The rain was heavy and cold by the time Yao reached the hospital. The sky had turned a rather threatening shade of green, broken up by dark, low clouds that he used as an excuse for his hurried pace. The weather seemed like fairly obnoxious setup for everything that had just occurred- Yao's too long week, Ivan's too low voice, all fueled by too strong emotion that made too little sense. Yao only worsened it by walking too quickly under the too dark sky.

The psychiatric unit was even quieter than usual. All doors in sight were shut tight, not a soul in the commons, as if each and every one of them was hiding from something. The only prevalent sound was the rain pounding evenly against the window. Yao felt a vague sense of wrongness as he entered the silent, empty room. It felt like intruding. "Ivan?" He spoke as quietly as possible, but it still felt too loud.

"Evening."

Yao had not thought to look at the far wall. His head snapped in the direction of the voice, the one that was not excitable or sweet or chilling. If anything, Ivan sounded very, very real. Yao suddenly could think of nothing to say, so he simply repeated, "Evening."

Ivan did not move his gaze from the window, did not even flinch when a loud crack of thunder cut through the silence. Yao, however, had to bite back a gasp at the sudden sound. Ivan must have heard, because he turned to him. His eyes were too dark, too dead, and his missing smile was far too apparent. "Thank you for coming." He spoke as if they had never met. But without warning, he looked away and gave a short, dry laugh. "This weather, it is very fitting."

"I suppose it is." Yao forced himself to lift his gaze. This was far too strange, too unnerving. "How are you doing?" It was too hollow a question. It was all he could say.

Ivan looked out the window again. Yao finally realized he must have been looking at the garden. "We cannot go outside today." He said nothing else, almost as if he had not even heard the question. Maybe to him, that statement was all he needed to answer it.

Frozen, Yao nodded once. "I see."

"And Matthew is using his office."

Another crack of thunder, another half-hearted nod. "I see."

Lightening hit, and for a moment there was nothing but blinding white. Yao did not dare to move as the dark returned and Ivan's expression faded from a cold, robotic grimace to a tired frown. The distance between them seemed even more considerable. "It has not been best day." Ivan was close to whispering. He looked away and cleared his throat. "Can I…hug you, Yao?"

Yao was beginning to wonder if Ivan was even the same person he met in the hallway all those weeks ago. He was fairly sure he himself was not the same person either, because it did not even occur to him to answer any differently than he did. "That… would be fine."

It was amazing just how different a simple hug could be. Yao did not feel fear when warm arms embraced him, did not feel suffocated, did not feel unwilling. If anything, he felt comforted as Ivan pulled him slowly against his chest. The stress of the week forgotten, he allowed himself to lower his head against the soft fabric of the scarf Ivan never seemed to take off. It was warm against his face, and smelled faintly of spice and soil from the garden outside. He wondered how such a small detail had become so familiar, even calming. The sound of the rain grew louder, heavier, and Yao's pulse followed suit not long after. But he barely felt it. Fatigue blurred the corners of his vision, drove the last of his logic from his mind. Ivan was comfortable, sturdy, and Yao was tired. Just tired. This had already gone on for far too long, yet he had no real desire to pull away. He was not sure he even had the ability.

"Thank you for coming," said Ivan again. The words fell hot against Yao's neck, and he fought back the ridiculous urge to shudder.

"No problem…" Yao's voice was equally as quiet. His original plan for the day was to go home and take a very long nap, and somehow, this was just as if not more calming. He fought to keep his eyes open, but he was quickly losing the battle. This was completely unreasonable, yet he didn't have the energy to care.

Ivan running his hand down his back in slow, rhythmic movements was not helping the matter, either. "You are tired."

Was it really that obvious? Oh well. It was a long, stressful week, and Yao was running on about four hours of sleep. Sue him. He tried to form a response, but it came out as more of an intelligible groan. He should have been embarrassed, should have pulled away, but exhaustion has a way of shrouding reason.

"That is…" Ivan's voice wavered. "Adorable."

Yao almost found the will to speak, if only for the purpose of reminding Ivan that he, a thirty-two year old man, was definitely not cute. He did not have time. Before he could even open his eyes voluntarily, the loudest crack of thunder there ever was filled the room and nearly shook the walls. Yao broke out of his trance with a jolt, yelped, and jumped backwards at the same time. As he fought to even his breath, Ivan pressed his hand to his mouth and began to laugh.

It took Yao a moment to get back into his head, and when he did, he was absolutely mortified. Not only had he nearly fallen asleep on Ivan's chest for reasons that were beyond him, but he also managed to make a complete fool of himself over something as petty and stupid as thunder during a storm. He was caught between equally powerful urges to either smack himself or go find a rock to hide under, so he settled on flushing a deep scarlet and looking away. "Oh, for the love of…" His words dissolved into a stream of meaningless vulgarities.

Now matter how humiliated he was, his could not deny that his chest felt light upon hearing Ivan laugh and seeing his smile again. Despite all of that, Ivan managed to sound faintly concerned. "Have you not been sleeping, Sunflower?"

"Not really," said Yao honestly. His embarrassment fading, he rubbed his eyes to clear his blurring vision. "I've been working a lot of double shifts."

Ivan's eyes narrowed. "This does not sound healthy."

Of course it wasn't. That hardly made it any less true. Yao shrugged in place of an adequate response, his thoughts slowed and disjointed. Finally, he said, "I'm used to it. It's fine, really."

"You do not seem fine." Yao could feel Ivan looking at him, both too close and too far away. Through the darkness and fatigue and strange, misplaced nerves, he could feel his skin burn at he realization he was being studied. "Maybe you should go home." There was reluctance in Ivan's voice, in his eyes, but he sounded as if he meant it.

If anything, it felt like an abrupt, inexplicable role reversal. "Are you sure?" Yao tried to ignore the dangerous sway beneath his feet. "I thought you wanted to talk about your sisters, or…Gilbert, or something. Didn't you say something? You say a lot of things." Maybe he was more tired than he thought. He was aware he was not making sense, and even more aware of the guilt.

"We can talk later. Besides, this storm will only get worse." Ivan smiled, albeit faintly. Yao met his gentle gaze, endeared if not a bit startled by his legitimate concern.

"Well-" But Yao had no time to revel in the emotion or even finish his thought, because he was cut off by Matthew's office door being thrown open with a loud clatter. From it emerged a teary-eyed Gilbert, who nearly tripped over his own feet before bolting off in the other direction. Matthew emerged seconds later, looking dazed if not in physical pain. For a split second he turned to face Ivan and Yao, a suspicious mark taking residence on the side of his face, mouth agape. The fleeting moment passed. Matthew shouted something intangible as he ran off in Gilbert's direction.

Ivan looked down the hallway with a blank expression, blinked once, then broke away with a short laugh. "Is probably best you get out of here. It is chaos."

Yao couldn't exactly deny that. However, he had no choice but to deny that he did not want to leave. "Alright, then."

Ivan brought his hand to the small of Yao's back, his touch firm but unthreatening. "I will walk with you."

A response came easier this time. "Sure."

The hall lights were flickering by the time they reached the elevator. Explosions of lightening turned the night sky into something closer to day, and blasts of thunder filled the halls nearly simultaneously. The winds outside had grown deafening. Yao ignored it. Ivan did not. "Are you sure you will be safe getting home?" he asked as the doors opened. It seemed to take longer than usual.

Yao considered this and vaguely wondered if it would be a better idea to take the stairs, but his fatigue was only growing and it seemed too impossible a feat. So, against his better judgment, he entered the elevator. He had to get home. It was not as if he had a choice. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Ivan looked at him warily, but ultimately said nothing and stepped inside. Yao barely noticed. He jammed the button for a ground floor and fought the urge to hold his breath as the door closed. For a moment, he nearly forgot Ivan was so close. He was too busy watching the blinking numbers above the door count down to one, wishing they would go faster, wishing this stupid box were a lot bigger. He had never liked elevators. He would not go as far as to say he feared them; it was more that he did not trust them. Perhaps it was silly. After all, he was sure nothing could go wrong.

As if the very thought had triggered it, the flickering light above them threatening to go out finally did. The elevator hitched, jumped, and finally stopped completely with a gut-twisting groan. Yao stumbled backwards as the ground leapt, unable to see or think or register what had just happened. The breath he had managed to catch was knocked away again when he felt strong arms surround him. Ivan spoke too calmly. "Oh. It is stuck."

"Stuck?" Yao was hit with a cold dose of reality. He realized very quickly that he was trapped in a pitch-black, inescapable room the size of a damn closest with none other than Ivan. He reached blindly in front of him and hit a random button, as if that would somehow do something. Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, of course Ivan was still holding him upright because he would likely fall otherwise, and of course Yao could suddenly not breathe. This was bad. No, this was disastrous. Cool sweat pricked the back of his neck. "How can it be stuck?"

"I suspect the power has gone out." Slowly, Ivan pulled his arm away. Yao immediately missed the stability. Even in this total, engulfing darkness, he could still feel Ivan's eyes on him. That did nothing to steady his breathing. "Does this make you nervous, Yao?"

"No," said Yao far too quickly to be believable. He could pretend he was fine all he wanted to, but he could not ignore the unsteadiness of his legs or the rush in his pulse. And for once, it was not because of Ivan. This was ridiculous. He had been completely certain he had left this petty fear behind in his childhood. If that was true, why were the walls closing in? Why was his head swimming? The elevator was suddenly far too hot. Yao felt disoriented, lost, unable to think logically or breathe evenly and for the love of God he should not feel this way-

Ivan was either whispering or shouting. Yao could not be entirely sure. His words made even less sense. "Hands on wall."

Yao was certain he was either hearing him incorrectly or losing his mind completely. Somehow, he had more faith in the latter. "Hands…what?" It was somewhat of a struggle to say.

"Put your hands…" But Ivan stopped speaking, as if he had given up. It took Yao far too long to realize Ivan was touching him, making him feel even warmer, holding his hands and…bringing them against the wall. Yao forgot about his panic just long enough to be incredulous. "It helps to have flat surface," said Ivan quietly. He was hovering above Yao, still touching his hands, still worrying and still making him feel strangely better. "Please take deep breaths."

It did not take Yao long to realize Ivan was trying to help him. He had seen through his front, sensed his fear, and cared enough to do something about it. A single logical thought cut through the jumble of nonsensical ones, one that managed to be more unnerving than any of them: Ivan was not simply obsessed with Yao anymore. He genuinely, truly, deeply cared about him, for whatever reason. As his breathing evened, his heartbeat slowed and the walls stopped closing in, Yao realized something else: He could not say he did not return those affections.

Minutes passed before Ivan spoke again. "You are feeling better?"

Slowly, Yao let his hands fall against his sides. He wondered if today could possibly get any more embarrassing. "Yes," he said. "I apologize."

"No, is fine. I understand." His eyes haven adjusted to the dark, Yao could faintly make out Ivan's smile falling. His voice dipped in a similar fashion. "Completely…" He shook his head quickly, smiled again and sunk to the floor. "Sit with me, Yao? It seems we will be here awhile."

Despite the brief moment of madness and excitement, Yao was still tired beyond belief. He said nothing as he sat beside Ivan, perhaps too close, perhaps too far away. He all but forgot how small the space was. It was incredible just how still everything felt. It felt almost otherworldly to not be able to see, words and movement unnecessary. Everything had been so fast lately. It felt nice to slow down. With the embarrassment, confusion and momentary fear a thing of the past, Yao could finally relax. Relaxing, in Ivan's presence… he would have called it crazy just weeks ago. He was not even sure how it had gotten this way. Yao almost laughed, but instead he let out a long breath as his eyes fluttered closed.

"I think I would like to tell you something, sunflower."

Well, at least he had been able to relax for a moment. Yao half-considered keeping his eyes closed, but Ivan's words were too careful, too quiet for him to do that. So he opened his eyes despite there being only darkness around him, turned in Ivan's general direction and gave his full attention. He tried to ignore the drop in his stomach and the fluttering nerves in his chest. "And what would that be?"

Though Ivan stalled, things began to move quickly again. Yao's pulse sped up again from nervous anticipation alone, right along with his breath and his thoughts. Not being able to see Ivan's expression made it even worse. "I am a bit nervous," said Ivan finally with an awkward, obviously feigned burst of laughter.

"That's okay." Yao pulled his knees into his chest. "We all get nervous, after all." He could definitely testify to that, both right then and a few minutes earlier.

The only audible sound was the long, trembling breath Ivan took. "Well, sunflower, I suppose you could say I am not completely normal." Yao felt his stomach plummet straight to his feet. He never would have expected Ivan to say anything close to that. He waited for him to continue with baited breath. "The other day, Matthew told me I have, oh, what was the silly phrase…" He paused for a moment after, and Yao grew suspicious that he had not actually forgotten. Ivan finished so quietly he could barely be heard in the silent elevator. "Borderline personality disorder?"

Yao was not entirely familiar with the term, but he knew enough about it to only be faintly surprised. After all, it would be simply foolish not to suspect Ivan had something. "Oh," he said. "Well, alright."

Ivan turned to face him. Yao's pounding heart did not slow; rather, it only sped up. "This does not bother you?" He sounded breathless, unbelieving.

Yao shook his head lightly. He did not feel shocked or frightened, just… sympathetic. The emotion was so overwhelming it nearly hurt. Words left him. Maybe it was exhaustion, insanity, or a foreign, implacable emotion that burned stronger than fire, but all he could think to do was reach blindly into the darkness until their hands met. "No." Ivan held tighter to his hand as Yao said the word. His touch was strong and warm and dangerous against his skin. It was something impossible to be bothered by. "No, it does not bother me at all."

"Oh." The word was barely a breath. Ivan was close, closer than Yao had ever allowed him to get or admitted he wanted him to be. They made eye contact slowly, hesitantly. For a fleeting moment of insanity Yao wondered if Ivan could see directly into his thoughts and sense exactly what he wanted to happen, what he had not even dared to think about, what he had denied and buried and pushed into a part of his mind he would rather ignore. He needed to look away. He needed to end this before it went a step further. That was the only logical thing to do…

Oh, forget it. Yao was tired of being cautious and logical and unhappy. So he threw it all to the wind, forced his hand to steady as he touched Ivan's cheek, closed the torturous gap between them and met his lips. Ivan gasped, pulling back slightly, and for a brief moment Yao wondered if he was the one being too bold for once- something he never thought possible in a relationship started by nothing other than a bold, insane moment in a hallway. But his doubt was erased when Ivan grasped his shoulders, firmly but not enough to hurt, never enough to hurt anymore, and deepened the kiss.

Yes, this was it. No matter the circumstances, how foolish it all was or the severity of Ivan's condition, there was no other place Yao wanted to be than right here, right now, in this claustrophobia-triggering elevator in the middle of the storm of the century. He wanted nothing more than to be held by strong hands, looked at like he was the world and kissed like he was cared about. Ivan was that special thing, that something wonderfully different if not a bit risky that he had waited his entire life to find. Yao quickly realized when he brushed Ivan's chest that his heart was threatening to burst straight from it, that Ivan was stiff and unsure and nervous. It was otherworldly. It was exhilarating. "It's okay," he whispered, mere centimeters from his lips. Yes, this was more than okay. It was fantastic. Yao did not have the heart to consider anything else. "It's okay…" He kissed him again, both unwilling and unable to stop. How nice it felt to be in control for once.

Maybe it lasted for seconds and maybe it lasted for hours. Time lost its relevance, reality lost its meaning, and it was not until they broke away that Yao's mind cleared. Good lord, what had he just done? What on earth had he started?

"Yao," said Ivan, the word a statement in itself. He was probably confused. Yao certainly was. "I know you said not to before, but…would saying 'I love you' be appropriate?"

Through his knotted mess of thoughts, Yao wondered how on earth he had gotten himself in this situation and why he had no desire to get out of it. "I suppose it would be." He half-regretted his response but was hardly surprised by it. He went back to his original position on the floor, mortified but as much as he should be, and most of all, just tired. What a day it had been. Carefully, he rested his head against Ivan's broad shoulder and closed his eyes for what felt like the eightieth time. His mind was a mess. All he wanted was to clear it, possibly flat out ignore his feelings and the circumstances alike. "Who knows when someone will fix this damned thing? I think I'm going to rest." It felt far too casual a statement. It was not as if he would actually be able to get any rest after all of that.

Ivan flicked his scarf to the side, allowing it to fall in Yao's lap. Yao ran his hand absently over the soft fabric. "I love you, sunflower," he said cheerfully, as though he had been waiting to say it for several eternities. "I love you!"

Yao remained silent, pretending he was already asleep though the ache in his chest made it impossible. He was not ready to repeat the words, not at all. That was not to say he didn't feel them.

And that was terrifying.


To be continued...