Doubt.

That's what played over in the back of his mind like a broken record. Izaya doubted not only that Shizuo wanted anything to do with him but that he himself would take this day to visit. Shizuo didn't need him, didn't want him. What good would it do, to waste each others' time?

A flash of an image of caramel eyes dipped in pale moonlight, and Izaya stopped dead in his tracks.

What had his expression meant, that night? It closely resembled the expression he'd worn just before sparing him after their water fight in Shinra's shower. It was nothing close to anger or lust, but if the informant could describe it at all… guilt. concern.

Doubt.

Or rather, in a way… almost a desire for doubt.

The remembrance of the blond's firm yet fleeting touch over his skin made Izaya shiver and keep walking. He was just a few blocks from Shinra's now, and only time would tell what Izaya might choose.

This wasn't the first time that Shizuo had changed. Izaya took a sip of his drink after a short coughing fit and thought back. When had it started? Shizuo had started to avoid him that day, after he'd met with a client and found the ex-bartender pressed flat against the wall in something akin to fear. Something had happened, whether it was something Shizuo saw, heard, felt, that made him start to avoid Izaya instead of setting out to eliminate him altogether.

He needed more information. A record of Shizuo's life and daily hobbies, his work route on that day and the days previous, any changes in his diet… maybe Shizuo had been hit a little too hard in the head with a lead pipe or shot one too many times by a local street gang. Information was his only necessity in order to keep his ground, but having this only part swept up from under him only made him feel like he was falling.

Izaya fingered the slim phone in his pocket. Should he try to call? A straightforward approach couldn't be that much of a bad thing, but only God knew if he'd be able to ask in person… probably not.

How to phrase "why didn't you kill me in the bathroom?"…

Before he knew it, Izaya had reached Shinra's place, sipping his coffee and holding back a cough in case the sound gave him away. The same image he'd seen day after day remained: the open window framing the closed primrose, and Shizuo's hand resting near it on the window sill. His fingers seemed thin, even from where Izaya stood below. An unknown feeling swelled in his chest, but he decided to expel it as a sigh and turned back to the street on his way home.

The sound of shattering ceramic behind him made his heart shoot up into his throat.

Izaya's heart pounded in his ears, and for a few everlasting moments he was deathly afraid to turn back. His breath hitched in his chest as finally he found the courage to look to the source of the sudden, terrifying noise.

The primrose lay weakly on the sidewalk, cushioned only by the now-fractured, jagged pieces of the pot.

With a trembling, sharp intake of breath, Izaya dared to tear his gaze up to the window, and watched just in time as the hand slipped from the edge.

His coffee cup dropped to the ground and spilled over the ground as the informant's shrinking figure raced to the nearest entrance of the apartment building.

Celty was the first to hear it. They were still in the living room, ready to play the game when the Dullahan pricked up her illusive ears to the sound of the heart monitor in Shizuo's room beeping dangerously fast. She threw the controller down and dashed into the hospital room.

"Celty, wait!" Shinra tripped after her, and both watched from the door as the numbers on the monitor turned red and only continued to spike higher and higher. She witnessed the sudden change from Shinra to Dr. Kishitani as if the former had never existed.

"Get the crash cart!"

Celty didn't waste time to nod and brought the crash cart from the other room. Shinra began to charge up the paddles and cursed at them for taking so long. Celty glanced at Shizuo, whose chest was heaving rapidly.

The elevator would take too long, the informant had reasoned, but after the first flight of stairs, Izaya's lungs couldn't take any more torture. He clutched the banister tightly with shaking fingers and willed his heart to get more oxygen to his breath faster. The burn flared out from his chest and up into his throat, making it already difficult to breathe. Izaya panted and coughed as he fought against his body's strong desire to give up.

But he clenched his teeth and pulled himself to his feet. Spots danced before his vision, the pain in his chest, head and legs taking its toll all over again.

Shizuo was not here to carry him this time.

He had to get there on his own strength.

Shinra rubbed the paddles together rapidly and slammed them into designated points on Shizuo's chest. Electricity's frequency rose, and with a zap, the blond's upper body jolted upward to meet them. Shizuo's eyes were fluttering, and the beeping was only climbing. The sounds repeated as Shinra tried the defibrillators again. It produced the same result, and a small sound from somewhere in Shizuo's throat.

Celty typed quickly and held the PDA out for Shizuo, steadying her hand as best she could.

[Hang on, Shizuo]

Shizuo's eyes were seeing and unseeing, observing her figure in his hazy vision and blinking away the unconscious moisture springing to his eyes. The defibrillators were once more applied, pulling his body up as if his chest were being tugged by a string, like a puppet. Each time he fell back onto the bed silently.

Izaya no longer cared if he might die by the time he reached Shinra's floor. He pulled himself from the stairs and with the last of his energy raced to the doctor's door. He let himself in, thankful that the door was unlocked, and threw it open behind him. He could hear the paddles going and the heart monitor firing at a gallop, beeps joined in by other sounds of everything else failing.

"Shizuo!" he called, panting harshly as he sprinted. Just a few more feet, just a few more feet. One little step.

Izaya swung himself by the doorframe into the room to see the paddles raised in Shinra's grip, and Celty's arms pressed stiffly at her side. The truncated rise and fall of the flatline thinned out to a simple, bright line on the screen, and the shuddering rise and fall of Shizuo's chest had ceased. Izaya thought he might go deaf with the noise that drove a nail through his head as soon as he'd stepped on the threshold.

The high-pitched sound of a dead heart.