Chosen (chapter 12)
Author: Shukujo Kurai
Warnings: shounen-ai, OOC, mentions of violence
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss. I do own Josh, Hideo, Yuri, Lanh, and all the dead people. ^_^;;;;
Thanks: There are so many of you now, it's hard to keep track! Special thanks go to my recent reviewers who really left me encouragements. I feel all warm and happy when I read them. Lol. Extra special thanks to RodiSquall, blackorcid, & Lizz.
Author's Notes: With Ran not being as stoic, I still label this as OOC. We're moving on to more character development, but (as always) I'll try my best to keep the dark humor in it. Oh, HUGE news! I met someone that was in a coma for like 6 months! He said he just had the same dream on loop. Not as fun as what I've portrayed, but at least mine makes for better entertainment. (In case you're curious, it was a dream where he, my fiancée, and some of their friends were in a bar in Tijuana. Yep. Pretty boring.)
Consciousness comes more or less like it always did before my captivity. Surprisingly, Ran's still there and still reading. I just lay here and listen for a bit until he glances over and notices that my eyes are open.
"You can tell me to stop." He states as he bookmarks our page and sets the book aside.
I shake my head as best I can manage. "Nah." I have to clear my throat and he immediately pours some water from a pitcher at my bedside. "I like listening to you." I inform him rather bluntly before I take the cup from him and sip my ice water.
He just stares for a second like I said something absolutely absurd. He's obviously uncomfortable now. "You're on a mechanical soft diet. Lunch should be up shortly." Way to change subjects.
I scrunch my face a bit. "What's that?" Sounds gross.
"Pureed food and liquids."
I scrunch my face completely. "Gross! I'm not ninety years old." Granted, I'm pretty pathetic right now, but surely I can chew my own damn food.
"Since you were on life support and the breathing tube, it's their way of playing it safe. Don't be surprised if they add thickener to the liquids." Well, at least he's talking more.
I know my eyebrow is raised. "Thickened liquids? What, I'm going to be drinking slime?"
I can tell he's hiding a smirk. "Pretty much."
I sigh loudly. Gross. Talk about taking away all dignity. Man, my scalp itches. Probably where my hair hasn't been washed in God knows how long. I try reaching up to scratch my head, but those damn wires pull me back. Fuck! Do I get no independence around here? I yank at the cords until I get enough slack to meet my head halfway where I am met with even more cords. "What the fuck?" More fucking wires! Why?!
"That's the EEG machine." Ran dutifully informs me. "They'll disconnect it soon. They were worried you might slip back into a coma."
I give a breathy snort. "I will if I'm not allowed to do anything for myself. I'm not even allowed to chew, for fuck's sake." Yeah, I'm grouchy. Ran is the last person I want to look weak in front of.
He doesn't manage to hide the smirk, the sadistic bastard.
I throw a half-hearted glare his way. "You know you'd be pissed too if this were happening to you."
"It wouldn't happen because I wouldn't have gotten caught."
Ouch. Thanks, Ran, for reminding me of my never-ending incompetence. I just look down at my hands and nod. It IS pretty goddamn pathetic. I wonder how long before I'm mobile. Shit, I just want to get out of here and lock myself in my room for a while. Why did they have to resuscitate me? I'm having just a little trouble at the moment remembering why I fought so hard to get back to a life where the person I admire most detests me. Oh yeah, goes back to that pathetic aspect again. I'll always be love's bitch. Maybe I should push the crap out of that morphine button so I can sleep through part of the embarrassment of having been captured and killed by a bunch of lunatics.
I can see Ran fidgeting out of the corner of my eye. He must hate being here even more than I do. He's already spent an unhealthy amount of time at people's bedsides, there's no need for it to continue. "You can go home if you want." I say softly, not making eye contact just yet. "I'm okay now and I'm sure you'd like to spend time with your sister." I look over at him sitting in that crappy hospital chair. Hope he hasn't been sleeping in that thing.
He looks at me and raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. "Do you want me to leave?"
I look away again. "I just know you hate hospitals and you've been here so long already and you always have important things to do and your sister's in town and I know you've missed her and I don't want to keep you from that and I know this has to be the most boring thing in your life."
"Youji." He cuts me off thankfully. I ramble when unnerved. "Just answer my question." Mm, Grumpy Ran is grumpy. He stands up, probably so he can look down at me. He knows that's intimidating.
There's not a good way to say both yes and no and I know he wouldn't like that answer anyway. It's like I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't. "I just thought you'd prefer to be away from a hospital and whiny injured people…"
"Shut up."
I look up at him with some amount of surprise and hesitance.
"What do YOU want, Kudou?"
Fucknuts. He's not letting me out of this. "Honestly?" I ask, mostly just to stall.
"Of course." Man, he's grouchy today.
"I don't really know." Before he can act on his frustration, I elabourate. "I like you being here but at the same time, it's embarrassing for me since I fucked up royally and cost you guys three days of time you could have spent on real missions or just being normal people… And as a result cost you over two weeks of time 'cause I was unconscious here…"
"Youji…" He sighs, drags his chair closer before sitting back down and closing his eyes. This is Ran's method of calming down; I've seen it enough since I aggravate him to no end, mostly just to talk to him and get a reaction. There's a part of me that still thinks that any attention is better than no attention. He appears to be debating on what to say. Since he's pissed enough already, I won't interrupt this process. "Look, I didn't mean that earlier, at least the way it sounded." I assume he means the comment about how he wouldn't have been captured. "Before all this…you said that you worried about my safety."
I nod. Not sure where you're taking this, Ran.
"I meant it to be so you know you never have to worry, even though I know you will. Any of us would have been captured in your situation, honestly. There was a private security system in the basement itself. When Omi looked through the surveillance to see where they took you, we saw what you had been up against. They knew we were coming, you were in close quarters, and they had a hostage. We all would have been taken off guard and either captured or killed."
That was honestly sweet, coming from Ran. If it had been anyone else, I would have just commented on how they were finally using logical thought, but from Mr. Perfect to say he would have been in the same boat, it's endearing and very very meaningful to me.
He sighs with an odd wince before reaching over where I can't see. "Here, don't cry." He dabs at my face with a tissue and perches himself on the edge of my bed.
"Huh? I'm crying?" I have to sound retarded. I would have thought that crying would have been something I'd notice.
He nods. "Aya-chan did it for a while too after she woke up. Something about malfunctioning brain chemistry after a coma."
"Oh." Yep. You know me - keeping those intelligent answers coming. Great, so I'm going to be having mood swings like a teenage girl. Fan-fucking-tastic.
I watch as he folds his hands on his lap, still sitting on the edge of my hospital bed. "You know, Youji, this isn't easy for me." Taking care of people? No, I know you're not a very motherly person, Ran. "It's been years since I really talked openly with someone." He gives a little sigh and stares at his hands. "It seems so easy when I see you talking away to people."
I bump his back with the back of my fist. "That's just small talk, Ran." I explain the best I can. "There's no feelings or very deep thoughts involved."
He turns to me with an odd smirk. "Most conversations with you don't seem to involve deep thought, Kudou."
It's weird, but I can tell he's trying to joke with me. "Oh harr harr." I grumble in what I hope comes off as a playful manner. "It IS nice to see that my acting skills haven't dulled over the years." It's all a façade, surely even you can tell that, Ran.
He grows a little somber, looking away thoughtfully. "Do you ever talk about real things with anyone?"
Real things? I assume he means 'smart stuff'. I think for a minute. Probably the last intelligent conversation I had was with Professor Crazy-hair, despite the fact that it wasn't wholly honest on my part. Of course, he didn't come right out and say 'hey, you have a tattoo that my cult is really interested in and we think you might be our messiah'. "Not very often." There's no need to explain that right now. "I tried once with Ken back when I first joined Weiß, but you can imagine how that went." Ken stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "I try to keep Omi upbeat and avoid any depressing topics with him." I'm sure there are positive deep conversations, but at the moment I can't think of any. "And I don't really talk to anyone else in much depth. I guess you and Birman are the closest I've come to a real conversation in years." Of course, talking about serial murderers probably isn't the best conversation route…
He tenses and kind of curls in on himself ever-so-slightly. What did I say? Geez, I thought I was supposed to be the one with mood swings. "That doctor, Dr. Ikkudo, kept talking about you and Birman like you were married."
I can't help it. I let out an abrupt sputtering laugh. Guess mouse-man really did think we were together. "Ran, there's no way Birman and I are together, despite how I used to joke with you guys."
He looks halfway offended, probably because I laughed at him. "I know that." He informs me like I should never have doubted. "Birman probably has better taste." From the slight tilt of his eyebrow and ever-so-subtle smirk, I'm assuming that he's joking. At least, I'm going to take it as a joke because I have enough to be depressed about at the moment. I don't need any more fuel for that fire.
I snort then smile a bit. "Yeah, probably."
He turns thoughtful again. "So why do it?"
Huh? "Why do what?" Come on Ran, three times dead guy here – there probably aren't many functional brain cells left.
"Act like you're interested in her. Why bother?"
I look away. Someone's brought an African violet and put it in my windowsill. They obviously haven't heard my rant about that particular plant. Sigh. I guess it's safe to tell him. If nothing else, I'll act like it never happened and claim post-resuscitation amnesia, if such a thing exists. "It's kind of hard to explain." I start to tell him while gathering my thoughts.
"I have plenty of time." He deadpans. Apparently he's actually curious about this.
I halfway sigh and turn to stare blankly at his black sweater. "It makes me…less intimidating. People don't worry about what they say around me or how they act, since they just assume I'm retarded anyway. They feel perfectly fine discussing terribly personal matters around me probably because they guess I'll either forget or that I'm not listening anyway. I find out so much more information just by flirting and feigning ignorance than I ever did by being serious and straight-forward." I look toward the window again. "And…that way I don't have to think about all the horrible stuff in our lives and in the past. You saw the way I acted and the way people treated me after I killed Asuka." I was depressed, I didn't smile, didn't joke, didn't flirt and people treated me like I was glass and the slightest hint at a serious topic would shatter me. It sucked.
I see him nod in my peripheral vision. "So it's just your crappy coping mechanism?" Way to sum it up, Ran-chan.
I look back toward his face. "Yeah, I guess you say it that way. Joking and making a mockery of things just became my way of dealing with shit because the world treats depressed people like time bombs and I absolutely hate it when people try to tiptoe around me and treat me like I'm glass."
He's silent for a minute. "Well, that part makes sense." Huh. Ran's agreeing with me. Ish. "That's part of why I act like I don't have feelings. People are more honest when they know they're not going to hurt me." He still refuses to look toward me.
"Yeah. Hey, do the Ice Queen jokes get as old and as hurtful to you as the Airhead Whore ones do to me?" Well, he's the one that admitted that he does have feelings, in a round-about way, at least.
This time he does glance over at me. "Sometimes, yes."
Honesty time! I feel like I won a contest just now simply by hearing Ran admit that. "You know, since we're being honest and all, that's part of why I always tried to pick on you and bugged you to no end."
He gives me a small smile. "I know." He replies simply and I kind of stare at him, surprised that he of all people would have noticed. "I'm not very good with people, but I don't have to be in order to see that you just wanted to watch the mask crack, even if it was in anger."
I have the decency to blush a bit. I'm very guilty of just assuming that he had zero people skills and absolutely no knowledge of emotions other than anger. Granted, I've always hoped that one day we'd see grief or love from him, but I always just wrote it off as a fantasy. Okay, we saw both in regard to his sister, but never anyone else.
He very slightly tilts his head as he stares at me. "When was it that you decided that negative attention was better than no attention at all?"
Sudden personal question time! Since we're being honest and all… "I guess it was after my mother died and I started getting passed around between random 'family friends'." I focus on one of his eartails, hoping that it still looks like I'm looking at him.
"Where was your father?" Ah, Ran. Still assuming that everyone grew up with a 'normal' family.
I shrug. "Not sure. He wasn't around much."
His head shifts again and I can see he's looking directly into my eyes. "What are you not saying?" He knows I'm trying to dodge. Crap.
I sigh. "I just…I don't want you to think badly of me." God, we went from easy-to-discuss topics to horribly-personal-and-kinda-embarrassing ones in no time.
His eyebrows furrow slightly, I notice as I abandon hope of avoiding eye contact in favor of staring at his hair. "Why would I? Parents have their own shit going on and it doesn't make their child good or bad." Sounds oddly understanding coming from Ran. "Before I joined Kritiker, I might have judged someone on basis of their parents, but look at Omi." He pauses, presumably for dramatic effect. "He's the son of the man that destroyed my family and yet he's one of the four people I'm closest to."
I nod. Ran's much more compassionate than I realized. I inhale and exhale slowly. "Okay. I'll trust you with this. It's not even in my Kritiker file." I hope I'm making the right decision here. I keep hoping that if I open up to him, he'll do the same in return eventually.
He nods, and watches me, waiting patiently.
"My mother was the sweetest person alive, full of life and love and joy. She loved me, her God, the world and everything in it." I close my eyes. "I was never sure how she managed to still be like that and still love me so much after what she went through." I take a fortifying breath and open my eyes. "She was an immigrant from Ireland, coming to Japan for missionary work through the Catholic Church. She had been here about three months before she made the mistake of walking alone at night. A man pretended to have an injured friend, and my mother was naïve and wanted to help."
Ran apparently sees where this is going as I feel his hand cover one of mine.
"He dragged her into an alley and into an abandoned building where he raped her for hours. Police found her tied to an old radiator, unconscious." I turn my hand to grip Ran's. "A few weeks later, the police tracked him down and my mother discovered that she was pregnant with me. He spent a few years in jail before being released and starting to harass us for his 'parental rights'."
Ran's hand grows impossibly tighter around mine as he laces our fingers together. Any other moment, I would be marveling at this, but right now I just want to get this story out and never speak of it again.
"My mother and I lived our lives running from him, essentially. We went from church to church and from one parishioner's house to another." My free hand grips the crappy hospital blanket, twisting it. "Somehow throughout this time, she was still joyful and loving. She kept stressing forgiveness to me, trying to keep me from growing up filled with hatred for that man. She still took me to parks and festivals and she home schooled me. She was the most perfect woman in the world, aside from being a bit naïve or dumb." Sorry Mom, it's true. You SO could have run to an embassy and fled the country. "I was nine when he killed her."
Ran's free hand has apparently come up to pet what he can of my hair. It's sweet that he's doing all he knows to comfort me.
"He caught up to us at a hostel in Tokyo. He threw me against the wall and, while I was dazed, grabbed my mother and brought her toward me, facing me. I was just regaining my bearings, listening to her telling me to forgive and grow up filled with love instead of hatred, when he tilted her head and slit her throat." I take time to gulp and Ran immediately fetches me my cup of water. I open my eyes to sip it, but carefully avoid eye contact. I just keep gripping his hand. "He held her up by her hair and ran this huge knife right through her back and out her chest." I cough a bit, but am determined to finish this now that I started telling someone. "He threw her on me and laughed. I knew she couldn't make it, and I'm not sure how I managed the rest; the police said it was something like a survival mode where I ran on pure adrenaline. I remember laying her down on the ground and untying her scarf that she wore as a headband. I'm not sure how I did it, but I remember latching onto his back and strangling him with her scarf. The police said I had several broken ribs and a slightly cracked skull from where he slammed me against the walls trying to knock me off of him. I don't remember much of it, just disconnected scenes from the scuffle. Either way I killed him." I hand the now-empty cup back to Ran, who wordlessly refills it for me. "I wasn't charged, even though the police walked in on a little kid curled up around a dead woman with a dead man nearby. It had to look suspicious. There had been a homeless-looking lady hiding in the corner behind some furniture and she testified to what had happened." I exhale and force myself to relax. "I went to a Catholic orphanage where my mother had volunteered for a while and then from family to family after that until I was old enough for the system to let me live on my own."
I finally look up at Ran, who immediately wipes at my face with a tissue. Only now do I realize how much I had been crying through that. God, I have to look like a complete child to him, crying over my dead mother. "I'm sorry, Youji, for making you tell me all that. It was obviously very difficult and cost you a lot to tell me."
I release his hand and take the tissue from him and try to blow my nose, but am met with intense pain when I try.
"Your nose was broken." Ran explains again. "Try holding the tissue at the end of your nose and blowing instead of holding the tissue near the bridge." Ah, good ol' analytical Ran.
It works, unsurprisingly since it was one of Ran's ideas. I'm silent for a while, trying to compose myself and seem less like a four-year-old. God, he even had to hold my hand. I am the least masculine male in Japan.
"It's my fault."
I look up into Ran's face incredulously. Huh?
"I shouldn't have had you tell me something so personal when your brain chemistry is still unstable."
Oh. "No worries. I probably would have cried anyway."
His lower lip puffs out ever-so-slightly, an unconscious gesture he does when contemplating something very difficult to him. "Do you talk about that incident often?"
I give him a look. Really? Do I look like the type to tell strangers that I was already a murderer at age nine?
He huffs. "I meant have you ever talked about it?"
Oh. "Once to the police, once to Asuka, and now once to you." Three times in over a dozen years. Man, I could use a cigarette to calm down, but I'm not even going to bother mentioning that to Ran.
My heart melts as he gives me a small soft genuine smile. "Thank you for trusting me with that, Youji."
I can't help but give a smile in return and nod. "Can you promise me one thing?"
He nods. "I won't tell anyone."
I shake my head. "No, all I really want is for you not to treat me any differently because of how I grew up."
He looks at me for a bit and then nods. "I won't coddle you or avoid subjects, but I can't help treating you like a stronger person than what I had been."
I hope that doesn't mean he's going to pick on me more or demand better work in the shop.
"I respect you for what you went through and how, despite having to joke about everything, you made it through and became who you are today."
I raise an eyebrow. "An inept assassin with a penchant for attracting psychopaths?"
He rolls his eyes at me. "Although you DO attract trouble, you're not inept." Really, Ran? I force myself not to say something sarcastic. "I know I often insinuate that you are, but I wouldn't trust you like I do if you were really inept. I organize us to where I have YOU covering my back. I trust you completely to protect me and do your job. You have a very difficult weapon to control, but you do your job so well that I trust you the most with my safety."
I stare wide-eyed at him. I have to look like an idiot. Ran trusts me? He thinks I'm good at what I do? We have apparently entered another dimension and stepped into BizarroLand.
He half smirks. "Now, I don't trust you at all with your OWN safety, given your records with tobacco, alcohol, and sleep deprivation."
That's more like the real Ran. I give him a goofy scowl.
I see a Mona Lisa smile before he turns his attention toward the water pitcher. "That's another reason I pair us up often – so I can protect you."
Aaaaand back to the wide-eyed stare. Birman's sleep deprived ramblings about Abyssinian being worried for my safety are starting to make sense. My you-probably-shouldn't-say-this filter is malfunctioning due to this information overload. "Do you really call Birman in the middle of the night to check on me?"
His eyes widen before narrowing into slits as he glares at a plant on the bedside table. "…That meddling woman." He grumbles before he stands up and storms out of the room.
Huh. Well that was odd.
After a while, some lady in a uniform and hospital badge comes to take the wires off my head, which is not a fun process, let me tell you. There's gummy shit in my hair now. Through a toned-down version of my usual flirting, I get her to tell me what devices are absolutely necessary and convince her to take that damn catheter out. So degrading.
It's painful, but I haul myself up and stand with her assistance. She provides me with a new 'gown' and what constitutes pants around here and steadies me as I change. I convince her to let me be on my own and I hobble over to a chair near the window, dragging my IV pole along with me. Actually, it makes an okay crutch in a pinch.
It's been a while and I'm gazing out the window when the door opens. "Youji!" I hear Ran's voice call before he's back out the door. Idiot. It's not like I can escape in this condition. I take a breath and haul myself up with the IV pole and the arm of this chair. Once I'm assured of my balance, I hobble as quickly as I can to the doorway. I can see Ran down the hallway at the nurses' station animatedly (for Ran, at least) fussing about something. With a sigh, I hobble partway out into the hallway. "Ran!" I shout as best I can with my still-sore throat, but it does the trick. Ran's furious form comes stomping my way.
"What are you doing up?" He almost-gently grabs my elbow and tugs me toward the room. "You shouldn't be up so soon." He's kind of cute when he fusses.
"I was just sitting in the chair by the window when you came in. I asked them to change the sheets and give me more dignified clothing". It's the truth. I'm almost clean, aside from the severe lack of showering. Ugh. So gross.
"Don't push yourself too quickly, Youji." He reminds me as he continues to guide me to the room. I did get out here on my own, you know. I'm not senile or an invalid.
Getting back into bed is more of a process than getting out of it. My back hurts like hell and trying to scoot around on that damn bed just aggravates it. Should have just stayed sitting in the window chair. Once mostly settled, I begin the task of pulling that wire glue out of my hair.
Ran calms himself down while I'm busy, or at least I hope that's what he's doing. "You shouldn't have been able to manage that so soon."
"I heal pretty fast." I inform him dully. "I'll probably pay for it later." It's a concession I have to make for him. I tug on a particularly large wad of gummy-glue. Yuck.
He wordlessly passes me a tissue to put the paste in. "Please be careful." He almost whispers.
I pause and stare at him for a moment before resuming my task. I assume he doesn't mean for me to be careful with my hair. "I will. I'm a whiny wuss, Ran, I won't do more than I can handle. I was just going insane laying here."
He nods and a doctor chooses that moment to come visit. At least the topic will change.
"Kudou-san, were you just in the hallway?" Goddamn it. So much for the hope of a new topic. I nod and he stares at me as though evaluating me. "Please allow a nurse to assist you – we don't want you falling on us." At least he's more permissive than Ran was. "Anyway, I'm your wound care doctor." They make those? That's an actual specialty? I thought all doctors did that. He presumptively takes my arm and undoes the bandages on the deepest of the wounds before repeating the process on the rest of my limbs. "I need to have you lean forward so I can undo the bandages on your back." Yay. Ran stands up and offers his hand to help me sit up. I take it, but he doesn't release me once I'm up. "Hmm…" I'm not sure if that's a good sound or a bad sound coming from a wound doc. He pokes a particularly squishy spot and I wince and tilt to my right involuntarily. "Oookay. Wait right there, Kudou-san." He states before walking back out of the room.
I raise my head and catch Ran's eye. "That's not a good noise from him, is it?"
Ran looks back down at whatever the doctor poked at. "Not particularly, no." Fantastic.
The doctor shuffles back in with a nurse and a tray of assorted medical goodies. Lovely. "I'm going to take a culture of this." I feel him scraping something and I involuntarily wince again. Ran grips my hand tighter and shuffles closer to my side so I can lean on him. He can be oddly considerate at times. "The lacerations are healing well, but the burn isn't healing as expected." Stupid goths and their branding irons. "Depending on the culture results, we may need to debride this particular section." The nurse is just focusing on putting new bandages on the places the doctor has already examined.
"I'm no doctor, but that doesn't sound good." Sarcasm, you are my only hope in these situations.
"Well, it'll be good for the healing process, which is good for you, but no, usually it means something's not healing right." At least he realizes he has to dumb shit down for me. "Debridement is where we go in and remove the dead or severely infected tissue to help the healthy tissue heal."
I make a gag face. "Gross. What are my options to avoid that?"
"It depends on what the culture shows. If it's MRSA, we try Vancomycin. If it's VRSA, we can try much stronger antibiotics, but we may have to debride it. If it's a flesh-eating bacteria, we have to debride it."
I sigh and lean on Ran. "Okay. Can you clean what you can of it now just for my peace of mind?"
"I intended to." He's blunt.
While he and his nurse dig around in my back, Ran starts petting my hand with the thumb of his. It's a good distraction.
"There you are." The doctor states as his nurse hands him new bandages. "The other wounds look to be healing as well as we expected, so I'm going to run this to the lab. The sooner we identify it, the sooner we can treat it with medicines instead of debridement."
I shoo him with my free hand. "By all means, go then."
Ran eases me back and the nurse props me up facing my left with some weird fabric roll, causing Ran to have to let go of my hand. "You need to be rotated every so often to allow as much air as possible to those wounds and prevent bedsores."
Fantastic. "Well, me and my 90-year-old self will be right here eagerly awaiting the next repositioning." It's not my wittiest comment, but I'm grouchy.
She just pats my arm and leaves.
I sigh and stare at the machines and the window, which I'm now facing. I hear something scraping against the floor and discover that Ran's dragging his chair over to the other side where I can see him.
"I know you don't like to be facing away from what you're trying to listen to." He explains in brief before going back to drag the mobile table over and arrange my water for me.
"Thank you." I admit and try to smile at him. He really is being curiously nice throughout all this.
He nods and fidgets. "Look Youji…" Oh, here it comes - the 'this has been great and all but I have to go now' speech. "I know this is kind of a degrading experience and I wouldn't be handling it nearly as well as you are."
I look up at him, surprised that he's conceding that much.
"What would make that position more comfortable?" He asks, with all the seriousness in the world in his face.
I pause to think for a minute. "Maybe if I sat up and rested against the bed in a sort of fetal position." It's a weird and probably crappy suggestion, but this is terribly uncomfortable and anything sounds better.
Together, we position the bed to conform to what comes as close to comfortable as it can. It's not bad, really, at least when I compare it to the dog kennel I was in. Gotta put things in perspective.
"I know you feel like you can't do much, but if it's not too uncomfortable, would you like to read the next chapter out loud?" Ran's adorably holding out whatever number book we're on.
It's so cute, I can't help but smile and accept the book from him and start reading.
Ran listens to me and pulls more gunk from my hair as I read. I can't help but use different voices for each character. I used to read to the younger kids at the orphanage and the various families I stayed with. Ran seems to enjoy it, at least, if his tiny smiles and muffled chuckles are any indication. He particularly likes my Mad-Eye Moody voice. When I get to something confusing, he'll explain the backstory to me – I don't remember everything from my jaunt into ComaLand.
Three chapters later, he stops me. "Your voice is breaking up." He hands me my cup of water. "Let's just see what's on the news for a minute." The TV clicks to life and some man is yakking on about the economy. Boring. I kind of space out, tracing a finger over the images on the book cover. We're on the sixth one now, which just indicates how long I've been here. I like this Snape fellow, though; he reminds me of Ran: strong, silent, and snarky. I sip my water to indulge Ran and he smiles. You know, if it weren't for the horrible injuries, this would almost be paradise.
The doctor strolls in without knocking this time. "Good news – it's MRSA." That's the weirdest good news I've heard in a while, at least since 'good news – we found the messiah!'. He walks over and changes an IV bag. "We're starting you on a high dose of Vancomycin to kill the bacteria. I see they've started turning you."
I can't help but glare.
"I know it's uncomfortable, Kudou-san, but until we clear this up we can't risk airing out your wounds." He looks over at me in a scrutinizing fashion. "It'd help more if you were a side-sleeper." What a weird fucking thing to say.
"I am, at home." I reply grumpily, earning more of Ran's attention. Immediately, he tries to diffuse the situation.
"How long before you can tell if the antibiotics are working?" It must have been the first question to pop into his head since he can see I'm ready to bludgeon this guy with a paperback.
"About two days, at the soonest." The doctor replies, checking the IV thing once more.
Ran seems determined to keep the focus off of me. "And if they don't work?"
The doctor turns to him with a huff. "We'll try the stronger antibiotics then. Look, I understand your boyfriend is in pain, but please allow us to do our very best for you both."
Before I can step in to diffuse that situation, Ran's fist collides with the doctor's cheek. "Don't take that prejudiced elitist attitude with me, you Goddamn son-of-a-bitch." The curses were in English, I randomly note as I grab Ran's hand to distract him.
"Don't anger the people in charge of my medication, Ran. I don't care what people think of me; it's okay." Granted, I care what they think of you and I would probably have tried to trip that asshole doctor or something, but still.
The doctor staggers. "I will be speaking to your superiors about this!"
"Of course, call Birman and she'll help you." I state while feigning concern and trying to suppress a grin, a fact that Ran notices.
"I will be doing just that!" The doctor storms out, the confused nurse following shortly thereafter with a quick bow.
Ran gives me a small smile. "What do you think Birman is going to say to him?"
I grin in return. "Not sure, but I'm certain it'll be funny." I don't have the heart to torture him further by asking why that assumption upset him so much.
"Are you in pain?" He asks, placing his elbow on the upper bed and leaning onto it.
I give what I hope is an unconcerned expression. "I'm always in pain, so this isn't anything different."
Ran immediately clicks that damn button. Before I can protest, he interrupts. "Don't worry. I had the charge nurse change it to the smallest dose possible."
I smile at him, utterly thrilled that he remembered how much I hate narcotics. "Thank you, Ran." I see my hand unconsciously move to tuck his bangs away from his eyes.
He smiles back, oddly enough. "Don't worry, Youji. Rest and watch the news for a bit." I turn my attention back to the television to spare Ran the awkwardness of the situation.
The sound of Birman's footsteps are ingrained into my memory, so I greet her without opening my eyes. "Hey Birman, long time no see."
"Good evening, Youji." She manages before turning her attention to the matter at hand. "Abyssinian, did you really strike Dr. Matsumori?" She places her hands on her hips for dramatic effect, which is slightly ruined by the smirk she can't quite suppress.
"He was an asshole." Ran states plainly, crossing his arms in defiance.
Birman mock-sighs and moves to sit on my bed. "What did he do?" She asks, turning to me. I guess she thinks I'm going to be less biased.
"He made a presumptuous comment about Abyssinian and myself." I reply with a shrug. It wasn't that big of a deal, compared with our daily lives.
Birman huffs and turns to Ran. "You can't punch random people for assuming you're together. You HAVE spent over two damn weeks here, after all."
Ran doesn't bother to appear apologetic or embarrassed. "He shouldn't be an ass." I doubt there's anything I can do to diffuse this.
She rolls her eyes. "Nor should you." She folds her arms with a melodramatic sigh. "What am I going to do with you two?"
"Hey!" I begin with great offense. "I was the good guy in this incident!"
Neither of them pays me any mind. "You can assign us doctors that know how to be professional." Ran retorts, glaring at Birman for all he's worth. The two continue to bicker as I sigh and turn up the volume on the boring news channel. Some random elementary school had a successful cultural fair, the economy's starting to suck, some politician had an affair and dutifully resigned out of embarrassment - the usual. At least I haven't seen anything about murder, missing persons, or someone discovering random body parts. I take a moment to tune back in to Ran and Birman's spirited 'discussion'.
"What else do you think people are assuming, Abyssinian?! You haven't left the hospital in over two weeks!" Birman's apparently to the point of flailing hand gestures.
Ran just glares. He hasn't moved from his chair or even uncrossed his arms.
"You can always tell them he's my paid babysitter. Retarded people need 24/7 watch." I offer, hoping to end this nonsense argument.
"Shut up, Kudou." They say in unison. Well, at least I got them to agree on something. I sigh and pour myself more water, sipping it slowly while I watch their verbal sparring match.
"They shouldn't assume anything. They're paid to be professional, not moral nutjobs." I think that's the first time I've heard Ran use the word 'nutjob'. Hm.
Birman rolls her eyes. "We can't control other people's behaviour, but we SHOULD be able to control our own." Well, maybe that argument will work against the proper side of Ran, but right now he's just grouchy.
He glares. "Then what do you want to do about it?" He grumbles. Apparently she made sense to him.
Birman looks slightly relieved. "I've reassigned him, Abyssinian. All you had to do was ask and explain the situation to me. You didn't have to give him a black eye." She drags another chair over to sit down. "I convinced him not to sue by reminding him of what you two do for a living. He IS one of our doctors."
Ran smirks and surprisingly, Birman returns the gesture. Let's hope this argument is over. I yawn, which apparently reminds Birman of my presence.
"Oh, here." She hands me a cloth bag. "I brought some things for you since you've been awake."
Yay! Real presents! Not the crappy kind like the cult had! I rummage around in the bag and pull out a sketchbook, some pencils, and some erasers. I lay them reverently on the mobile tray thingie and smile at her. "Thank you, Birman."
She smiles back politely. "You're very welcome, Kudou."
Ran suddenly gets up and moves to the door. "I'm getting something to drink. Do you want anything, Kudou?" He's still grouchy. I'm still convinced that's his baseline state.
"Anything with a flavour, please." I reply. The water's getting kind of old.
He nods, then glares at the back of Birman's head. "Birman?" I'm surprised he's offering, given their little face-off there.
"Hot tea, if you don't mind. Here." Before he can step away, Birman's handing him some money.
He sighs and takes her offered money. "Black or green?" Oooh, he's playing nice.
"Black, please." She smiles at him and it appears to be genuine.
He just blinks and walks out. That's Mr. Social for you.
As soon as he's gone, her expression changes to curious and kind of giggly. It's actually pretty creepy. "So…?" She leads, scooting a bit closer to my bed.
I tilt my head, ignoring the stretching sensation from the wound around my neck. "So…?" I'm not giving her the satisfaction easily, although I'm not 100% certain what she's after.
Her eyes roll. "How has it been spending 24/7 with him?" She keeps smiling. "Not as hateful toward you as you thought he'd be?"
I sigh. I would never have guessed Birman would be the gossiper between her and Manx. "No, he's been pretty nice, by his standards at least." I concede, otherwise she'll keep digging.
"You've been awake for three days now and they tell me you're already up and walking." God, is that gigantic news around here? Am I the only patient in this hospital?
"Yes…" I still don't see the big deal. Ran would have been walking within three hours of waking up.
Birman rolls her eyes again. She must love doing that or she's just sleep deprived again. "By normal standards, that's a miracle, Kudou. 70% of your body has stitches and you died twice! Not to mention the internal damage you sustained."
I smile half-heartedly. "We're not exactly normal people, Birman." We've trained to the point where death just isn't that big of a deal.
Her attitude deflates a little. "I know." She admits, looking down at her hands with a sigh.
I feel badly for depressing her. "Ran says it's a big deal, too." If Mr. Perfect thinks it's good, it must be great, right?
She looks up with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous grin. "So we're on the real-name basis now?"
I make a face that can't be pretty. "Shit, I'm not supposed to call him that around other people. Please forget I said it."
She chuckles. "Don't worry. I never call him anything other than his code name or surname and I won't tell anyone."
"Please don't." I really hope she doesn't gossip with Manx or anyone else.
She just gives me a dismissive wave. "Kritiker knows that, given the unusual circumstances involved in our line of work, sexual or romantic relationships between teammates often happen. Although we don't actively encourage them, we don't act against them unless it becomes a problem during missions." It sounds like she's reading a policy page.
I know I must be blushing. "There's no relationship, Birman!" I whisper-yell at her.
Her eyes regard me with a sad sort of expression. "Do you want there to be?" She tilts her head and honestly looks like a sad little kid.
The blush has to be intensifying. "Birman, I'll be tickled shitless if he considers me a friend. Anything more is unfathomable right now."
She almost pouts, I swear. "The question wasn't about probability, it was about what you wish for."
I half bury my face in my arms as best I can in this awkward position. "Of course, I do, Birman. He's so important to me and you know that. Do you think I would have entered that basement first if I had been paired with Ken? Hell no."
She chuckles, probably trying to show me that my words aren't going to be a death sentence.
"Somehow, somewhere along the way, he's even managed to completely eclipse Asuka in my heart. But this is SO important that I don't want to risk fucking any of it up. I'm beyond happy with him regarding me like he is now, so long as I'm anything but his nemesis." I wouldn't be me if I didn't joke. "Takatori's dead now, so the position is open."
She laughs as I intended and I don't bother analyzing it to see whether it was forced or not. I'm caught off guard by a hand pulling my face out of my arms. "Youji, I'll keep your secret, I swear. Whatever I can do to help, just let me know."
I smile at her unexpected kindness. Yep, I'd say she's sleep deprived. "Thanks, Birman, but this is enough for me."
I jump as I hear a throat being cleared. Ran's standing impatiently in the doorway. "Should I come back later?" His words are pretty much dripping venom. Great.
Birman just smiles like nothing's going on. "No, you're fine. I was just trying to cheer Kudou up." This can't go well. "Remember that it could always be worse." She notes with a forced happy tone before sitting down and accepting her drink from Ran, who surprisingly doesn't pour it on her despite the intense death glare he's giving her.
I try to act like there was nothing suspicious going on and grin at them. "Yeah, yeah. I could be back in my dog kennel with all the injuries."
Ran looks positively vicious. "I torched that place, so it's gone." He sips his own tea after setting my flavoured water down. I need to be more specific next time.
I look at him with a mixture of surprise and thanks. I know it's just part of the job, but it still seems like a nice gesture, given the circumstances. "Oh. Thank you." I offer, trying to be polite here. Man, it's a sea of awkward tension in this room.
He looks at me like I'm nuts. Yep, he was just doing his job and not burning a place out of vengeance. "I was doing my job, Kudou." Ouch. VenomVoice is venomous.
Birman sighs loudly, earning her a glare from Ran. I desperately want out of this room.
A nurse must have heard my psychic pleas and chooses this moment to bring a tray in. "Lunchtime, Kudou-san!" She chirps happily, setting my tray down on the mobile table and uncovering it with somewhat of a flourish.
I stare. I blink. I stare some more. "What IS it?" I ask, taking my fork and poking the white pile. There's a brown pile and a green pile too.
"Um… meat and vegetables? To be honest, I don't work in the cafeteria, so I'm not certain." She bows apologetically and leaves.
I stare in horror at my three piles of shit. I hear Birman snicker and I see Ran trying not to smile or laugh out of the corner of my eye. I poke the white pile again. "Well, that LOOKS like mashed potatoes." I scoop some of it on my fork. Mashed potatoes aren't bad and they're hard to screw up. I shovel it in my mouth and as I go to swallow, my brain shouts 'get it out, get it out'. I spit violently back onto my tray, gagging as I try to use the napkin to wipe the rest of it off my tongue. "Sneaky cauliflower! Sneaky hospital!"
This time Birman just outright loses it and laughs hysterically. Ran even has to turn away so I don't see him chuckling.
"No more tricks!" I push the tray away as far as I can, eyeing it suspiciously. "Tricky cooks! Bad hospital!" I cross my arms in childish defiance.
I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and turn to see Ran smiling at me. "I'll bring you real food." He must have forgotten Birman's presence since he's forgetting to be a grouch.
"Real food?"
He nods.
"Food with matching appearance and taste? No sneaky food?" I will NEVER fall for that again. I will abuse people as taste testers.
He tries to suppress a grin. "Yeah. Real food." His hand squeezes my shoulder slightly.
"Thank you." I reply with a small smile before trying to scoot the evil tray further from me.
Birman chuckles softly and gathers my art supplies up and into their bag, which she places at my side. She thankfully finds the lid and covers up the piles of horror.
I scoot the whole mobile desk-tray-thing away. "Can you please convince them to discontinue the slime?" I look toward Birman pleadingly.
"I'll try." She gives me a smile. At least I broke up their fight and lightened the atmosphere. "I have to get going now. Get well soon, Kudou."
I nod. "Thank you again for the sketching stuff."
She nods before turning to Ran with a more serious face. "A word please, Abyssinian?"
Ran half-glares before following her out the door, shutting it behind him.
Now I'm trapped in the room with that tray… I uncover my leg and use it to scoot the tray-desk further away. I proceed to guzzle my flavoured water in a futile attempt to rid myself of surprise-cauliflower aftertaste. So nasty…
A/N: Huzzah, character development! Sorry for those offended by Youji's past in this story. It's half congruent with my other older story. It's just how I imagine his life to have been. Oh, the three piles of shit and sneaky cauliflower part, totally a true story. Grandpa made me taste it first – he was already on to their tricks. Please, as always, review for me. I get all giddy and stuff when I receive them.
