AN: I'm on fire. My muse is pounding the crap out of me.

BAM!

Also, spoilers about the whole Kishin revival attempt thing, so if you don't know what happens - new fan or whatever - graze right on over this chapter. :D

This one's more of a character study than anything else.

Kid was formidable, so it was usually Liz that felt the pain.

First and foremost - she didn't blame him for a thing. It wasn't his fault, none of it was. When the symmetry or the asymmetry was too much for him to handle and he was rendered helpless against his enemy, Patty sprang forth and wielded Liz with the energy he lacked for the moment, because he couldn't help himself. When fear paralyzed him because the path was too uneven and the road was inconsistent, they held him up and they covered his eyes so he couldn't see how terrifying reality could be, dragging him undignified by the collar of his shirt if they had to. His weakness could literally bring him to his knees on occasion - and when that happened, they understood, and they retreated to nurse his injured ego until he was ready to try again.

And in his moments of strength, he fought with them, he fought through them, and most importantly, he fought for them; everything he did, he did it for them, and she knew that. His own body had served as a shield for them many times over, but even as his flesh, just as soft and yielding as any human's, absorbed the blows for Liz and her sister, the pain shot through her anyway in sympathy as he battled agony without them. She knew that what he did he did by choice, because it's what he felt he had to do, but every time he stood before them with unnatural ferocity, or let the attacks graze his arm because he didn't want to block the onslaught, Liz felt quietly furious with him and his stupid selfless outlook. No, she didn't blame him when he froze up in the face of danger, and she didn't blame him when he threw himself in front of them as a sacrifice to save them the ache of humanity, but as a human, as a friend, she wanted secretly wanted to kick him every time he suffered alone.

The fact of the matter was, every time he received a blow, no matter how strong he was, it would make her breath hitch.

It scared her sometimes, how strong and selfless he was. Since their enrollment at Shibusen, she'd seen human meisters crumble under a single blow, attacks that wouldn't have even made Kid flinch. More surprisingly, she'd seen weapons block attacks for their meisters, rivulets of blood running down their foreheads and blood dribbling from their mouths as the reflections cast on their weapon forms urged their wielders on. Kid had never allowed them to take a single hit for him willingly, and the times in which they tried were greeted with rage-filled shouts of protest, genuine anger at being protected; and he wasn't just being an asshole about it, to put it into crude terms, Liz knew. Kid thought that, as a gentleman, as their meister, and as the boy they had grown to love and trust with all of their hearts, he was never allowed to let them down when it could be helped.

And still she sometimes forgot to breathe when he fought. She knew everything would be fine, because he was strong, stronger than any other meister she knew, and she still forgot to breathe. It was endlessly aggravating.

Of course, Kid had plenty of experience with getting injured. She'd seen him conquer just about everything, and his ability to survive grew less impressive to her with time. Her jaw stopped locking when he was sent flying; her nails stopped digging into her palms with every hit he took, and her stomach no longer turned over whenever she felt his blood against her as he wielded her. She knew that all she could do was allow him to lead them - if they shot his wavelength and defended him to the best of their ability, he would do the rest. She believed in his ability to live.

But she still stopped breathing every time she felt his muscles tense with pain.

The day came in which they faced their most daunting enemy yet - the Demon God himself, Asura. The combined efforts of Black Star and Death the Kid had failed to prevent him from reviving, to their immense shock, and before their partners could react they had both collapsed in a spray of blood. Liz and Patty cried out to Kid as he fell; to their distress, he was unable to respond. It was one of those rare and terrible occasions in which he was completely, thoroughly, undeniably defeated.

Although Asura had consequently been revived, all of the weapons knew deep down within their hearts that their meisters would be alright, and everything would thus be 'fine' eventually - they would get over this loss, they could defeat Asura in the future, they had other chances - but Liz couldn't hear anything past the pounding of her heart in her eardrums. She and Patty reverted to their human forms, and Liz brushed her hands through Kid's hair and told him that it was okay, they were still proud of him, he had tried his best. Whereas he usually would have appreciated her comfort, he said nothing, his face pale and his body very still - because he didn't hear her. He couldn't hear her.

Liz held her breath, because Kid wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. Usually he recovered by now - usually it was different - but he wasn't moving. And she wasn't breathing. She heard Tsubaki fanning Black Star with her hand and whispering to him urgently, but it felt far away to her, as if a wall separated them. She hefted Kid's upper body into her arms; Patty grabbed his legs.

He gasped sharply as they lifted him, and his eyes opened slightly.

"Liz," he croaked, staring up at her. "I'm sorry..."

Liz drew in a deep breath and realized that it hurt. Her vision fanned sickeningly, then steadied.

"... We're not angry at you," she said, smiling at him weakly. "Rest. It's okay. You're hurt."

The Demon God was revived and everything had changed. For all they knew, the world could end - seriously, literally end.

But Kid had opened his eyes, and that meant Liz could breathe again.