Disclaimer: As previous

It's raining here at the Denver Airport as I sit here on layover. The flight in had what they call "moderate chop", which means the attendants have to stay belted in during the flight. I was starting to wonder if I'd violated some law of karma…but nope, here safe! And hooray for free airport wi-fi!

Now on with the story. I have it uber-minimized but hopefully I got the editing right.

Chapter Ten - Frame of Mind

"It's a good sign," Tohma said quietly. Even Ryu and Hiro came close to hear the latest news, imparted to Tohma via the waiting room phone. "They had him off of the respiration for more than ten minutes. They think that by tomorrow they might be able to remove it. I took the liberty earlier of explaining to them about his profession, his voice."

"You're serious? " Yuki squinted in concentration. "You're not lying? He's better?"

"Yes. He's a little better. But apparently the time off of the respirator exhausted him. "

"I need to get in there," the blond bolted off the worn upholstery and was out the waiting room door before Tohma could grab him. He was yanking fruitlessly on the secure doors when they reached him.

"Yuki, you have to wait," K said, catching his right elbow. Yuki shook off his hand as Tohma came up with a look of deep concern.

"It won't do you any good to get thrown out of the hospital." K warned. "Get a hold of yourself."

The doors buzzed and began their automatic swing outward, tripped by an orderly rolling out an empty gurney. Yuki stepped back towards the opening and took his chance, spinning on his heel to dart by the bored employee before he had a chance to comprehend someone unauthorized had slipped past.

The scene he burst in on was unremarkable. Shu was as silent and motionless as he had been before.

Liars! I knew it! His mind raged at the thought. False hope. He slid to a stop, hands braced into the bedrail, rattling the bed slightly with the impact.

The nurse stuck her head in the door, then disappeared.

Getting reinforcements, he figured, watching over his shoulder. He wasn't going without a fight.

The nurse and an orderly returned.

"You can't be in with Mr. Shindou if you aren't gloved and gowned," the orderly barked. "If he becomes ill now or gets an infection it could kill him. Don't you dare touch him with those bare hands."

"Then give me the damned gloves and gown. I'm staying." Yuki glared and the staffers pointed him to the cart near the door. He stalked across the room and fixed his most intimidating glare on them both as he suited up. They watched him commandeer the rolling physician's stool and plant himself against the bed in a defiant stance.

The hospital employees eyed him, then one another, then left the room.

Yuki spun and stood up, leaning over Shu and searching his face again for any sign of awareness.

Nothing. But the next time he woke up, Yuki would be the first to know. He wasn't going to budge until then, no matter what.

o0o0o0o

It was too cold and too hot somehow, and the feeling of being on a bed as opposed to in a bed was making him restless. There was an irritating plastic-y rustle that accompanied his every move and there was just enough air blowing from the environmental system to tickle his neck uncomfortably. The too-thin blanket never seemed to cover his shoulders or the ends of his toes and there was an odor that was provoking something unpleasant in his memory that he couldn't quite come up with. The beeping and clicking and hissing were incredibly frustrating to listen to without knowing what they were. His eyes were covered with something, and with his hands restrained he couldn't lift it up to peek out.

The pains in his head and throat were barely tolerable, his lower back ached from the constant pressure of being prone.

He tried to shift, but covered in tubes and pressure cuffs and protruding drains and catheter lines, he was pretty much trapped. When he moved around a little, he discovered that a few comforting touches on his arm and cheek would happen, and once when the hand lingered on the side of his face he thought he smelled something very familiar.

Yuki.

A hand moved the cloth on his eyes and he struggled to bring things into focus, but the sudden infusion of light slammed his eyes shut in reflex. He dully realized that they were tugging tape off of his face again, and then the already agonizing pain in his throat increased. The clicking and hissing gave way to silence and tense voices. His lungs took over unsteadily, and an indeterminate amount of time went by in varying degrees of awareness. He had to make himself breathe, and after a while it would have a hypnotic effect, making him drowsy and distant.

A group of people gathered over Shu and their gloved hands kept after him until his head was tipped back and held fast and he was gagging, arching his sore back in reflex as the long breathing tube was sliding uncomfortably out of his raw throat. Once it was out, they released him, seemingly through hovering. Shuichi's upper body jerked upward and he coughed,; it was a loud, startling wet crack of sound. People made quick movements in reaction.

His aching jaw muscles worked to try and ease the cramping and another, deeper pain emerged.

"Yuki…" he croaked, barely able to hear his own voice.

A hand slipped into his and he shivered with dread as he filled with hope.

"Shu, Shu, I'm here. I'm right here. You're going to be all right."

He couldn't believe his ears and the dread disappeared. He squeezed the hand, well, it was more of a weak grip, but at least he communicated that he didn't want that hand to go away. And it didn't.

"Yu…" his throat betrayed him by grating painfully and refusing to let him talk, launching him into a painful fit of body-shaking coughing.

"You need to be still and be quiet, Mr. Shindou, or we'll have to remove your visitor," an unfamiliar male voice intoned near his head.

"I'm not going anywhere Shu but you need to do what they say. You're banged up pretty bad." Shu could almost smile at the tone in Yuki's voice, controlled anger and defiance mixed with protective warmth. If only he could curl up against that strong, pale chest. But the relief of having Yuki there was even more comforting that he'd expected.

The ability to focus was slow returning; eventually Yuki's shape came into view. Shuichi was losing the battle with exhaustion but he struggled desperately to cling to awareness. Yuki might not be there if he went to sleep and woke up. He couldn't expect the man to sit by him forever. He'd have to go eventually.

The blurry face came close and it seemed that the activity in the room had died away. There were no hands pinching and poking at him, no distracting unfamiliar voices. That infernal clicking and hissing sound had not returned. Everything hurt dully, they had tweaked his pain medication up just a little. He was calm if not comfortable, and able to concentrate on something very important to him.

The familiar eyes that wavered in and out of focus were red-rimmed and weary, and looked right at him with full attention and caring. That look, the purity of that connection, felt as surreal as the dreams that had been confusing him since the crash. He'd just finally resigned himself to the fact that Yuki's unique personality prevented him from showing affection unless it was goal-oriented, like in the bedroom.

If he could have screamed in frustration at the unfairness, he would have. Try as he might to stay in the moment, the last shreds of his energy gave out. Instead of happily drowning in the look in those eyes, his own drooped shut and he faded helplessly into darkness.

From Yuki's point of view the whole thing was a nightmare. After the long, worrisome two hours of testing with the respirator turned off, the medical staff agreed to go ahead with the extubation. They removed the breathing tube and there was some bleeding, and Shu seemed very distressed. The medical people were buzzing around and acting concerned about the readings and saturation percentages and pressures and rates. Shu looked so broken and helpless, and when he spasmed loudly after the tube was removed the swift response by the staff frightened Yuki. Still, he grabbed the hand on the arm not swathed in bandages , selfishly hoping for Shu to acknowledge him. It had been a lifetime since they'd been able to speak, to see one another. It was one-sided now, Yuki constantly looking in and getting nothing back.

Shuichi seemed to respond to the touch and Yuki instinctively gave him a few words of encouragement. He seemed to get a little more agitated. Yuki could only imagine how confusing and frightening it must be for him, and he vowed to stay nearby. Shu's eyes opened and it was obvious he wasn't able to see properly, but the blond hoped he could see that he wasn't alone and understand who was with him.

Shu slipped into blessed sleep again, leaving his lover with his guilty thoughts.

Hanging next to Shu, so close, able to touch him and talk to him…well, at him, really, because he likely heard none of it…was that how Shu experienced their relationship?

Was this how it felt for Shuichi all the time? Always waiting, afraid to turn away in case he missed it, needing the words that stubbornly refused to come?

Because Yuki knew he shut everyone out, including this wildly affectionate young man. He reserved his core, his soul, his true emotions for his own scrutiny alone. He had to. It was how a fucked-up guy like himself made it this far, lived this long. It was bad enough, being damaged goods, without getting any second opinions or unhelpful attempts to fix him from others. The attempts came anyway, but they were just an annoyance for the most part. Without seeing past his shell they were way off-base, easily deflected and quite without effect. Just the way he liked it.

Then came Shuichi. Always getting a little too far in, coming a little too close to seeing the real man/grieving boy inside Yuki running the show. He knew too much, felt too much, gave too much. He kept luring the older man out a step or two at a time, getting closer and further in. It took more and more effort to keep pushing him away. It was a pain, it was painful, it made him think far more than he wanted. But not enough to think about how it must feel from Shu's point of view until now.

This feeling of wanting to see a look or hear a word from someone so badly…to feel desolate and need some act of reassurance when there was a distinct possibility that it would never come…it was so painful and depressing. No wonder he always was the one to love less, to hold the upper hand. This was no position to be in.

Not a position he should have spent years keeping Shu in. It was unthinkable that the pink-haired waif suffered it gladly and rarely broke. He only moved away when seriously pushed and returned promptly when the pushing stopped. He just smiled that frozen smile, through the insults and the rough treatment and the million small rejections.

The author had justifications and excuses galore to ignore the cruelty of it. He wants it, he likes it or he wouldn't stay. He's obnoxious and annoying and he knows he's lucky I'll even speak to him. He's star-struck and deserves a dose of reality. He's lousy in bed and no one else would put up with him. He's too flamboyant and loud to take seriously. Take your pick.

But the truth was, he was getting too close and had to be pushed back.

He was pushed back pretty effectively this time, all right.

Almost permanently.

And that was so not what Yuki wanted after all.

It opened his jaded eyes.

x