Ch. 9

Saturday.

4:15 in the morning.

The sun wasn't even up yet.

But he was.

Kubota turned in his sleep, mumbling something inarticulate and reached out for the warmth by his side. But there was no warmth. His eyes shot open as he jerkily pulled himself into a sitting position, back pressed against the metal bars of their headboard, thin pillow lying forgotten on the floor. He moved his fingers over the depression on the bed...cold. Tokito must have been gone for some time then. His fingers scrabbled across the nightstand, finding his glasses and pushing them up the bridge of his nose he surveyed their room. There were the normal books and such scattered about, the closet door was askew, but nothing looked to be missing.

He slid out of bed, feet prickling back awake awkwardly as he padded silently towards the bathroom. The door was closed but he could see the faint light glowing orange from underneath. He breathed out a sigh of relief; at least he was still here. Tapping lightly on the wooden panel he pressed his forehead against the rough surface and listened. The sound of running water was soft, but there. He must be taking a shower, but at this hour, that could only mean his hand was hurting again. Reaching out he carefully turned the door knob and slipped into the steamy room.

Tokito was curled up on the shower floor, gripping his right hand and trying desperately not to scream. He'd woken up about an hour ago from a nightmare, the pain sharp and insistent in the night. The last few days had been bad, really bad. The nightmares were coming faster now, more vivid, more terrifying. He'd woken up several times thinking he was still in the cage, its rusty metal flaking in his hands, staining them copper like dried blood. It didn't help that their bed was made of metal bars. More than once he'd woken with his right hand gripping their smoothness, twisting them out of shape. He'd had a hard time bending them back before Kubo-chan noticed, but you could still see the claw marks if you looked closely.

It terrified him, the not remembering or the memories; he wasn't sure what scared him more. No, that was a lie; he knew what scared him...the future. He wasn't afraid of Akira any more, not really, but he hated the dark, the prick of needles, and the taste of chalky pills shoved down his throat while he struggled and screamed into the shadows. No, what he was really petrified of was that the future was an illusion. His future. Their future. He didn't want to die, didn't want Kubo-chan to die either, but the fur was slowly inching up his arm and he knew what that meant. He'd seen the pictures, the bodies of the others that didn't make it. He'd noticed it a few days ago, it use to just stick out a bit, but now there was more of it showing past the edges of the soft leather and he was having a hard time concealing it.

He had tried to shave the hair, but ended up cutting himself instead, the razor shaky and uncomfortable in his left hand. From then on he'd found every single long sleeved shirt they owned and had constantly worn his glove, even at night. He was lucky, he figured, he'd had the chance to live a little. Even find someone like Kubo-chan to spend his last sane moments of life with. He should feel blessed. It shouldn't bother him...his death really shouldn't bother him...it shouldn't...his body shook, the force of the tears threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to leave Kubo-chan, he didn't!

Strong arms wrapped around his bare chest and pulled him into a tight embrace. They sat there under the hot water, clinging to each other for all they were worth, afraid to break the spell. Kubota ran his fingers through Tokito's hair, constantly battling the water as it tried to force it back into his violet eyes. Tokito's left hand cradled the furred one, pressed between their bodies as the sobs racked his. He nuzzled into the warm flesh between Kubo-chan's shoulder and throat, the steady pulsing calming him slowly.

"Shh...Toki...it's ok now, I'm here...it's ok..." Kubota repeated the words over and over until his cat had calmed down.

"Kubo-chan...I...I don't wanna die..." the words were so softly spoken he almost didn't catch them. The fear that laced his voice, the haunted look shadowing his eyes made his breath catch. He pulled him in tighter, determined to impress his feeling upon his mate.

"I'm not going to let you." He swore, his voice hard and sure, and Tokito desperately wanted to believe it, wanted the hand to be a trick of his imagination, something that had occurred due to stress and fear, something fake.

He swallowed audibly and chocked on the hot water, the saltiness of his own fear swirling around his tongue, slipping over his chin and suddenly the overwhelming taste of cigarettes and Lotte's latest flavored gum mixed and melded with the salt, overpowered it, and forced it to the back of his mind leaving only the sad joining of fear and longing and utter desperation in its wake.

Breaths mixed and hands slid and cradled and clung feverishly, and maybe it was an illusion, maybe it was a dream, all he knew was that it banished the nightmares, left him wrapped in fluffy blankets, his head pillowed on a familiar wiry strength, fingers and claws both tangled in silken strands and finally he was able to sleep.