A/N: I (barely) broke 6,000 words for this chapter, which I'm pretty sure makes it the longest one yet! Be prepared for some medical hand-waving lol, I did research and then selectively disregarded it since, you know, magic and shit.

Take the content and trigger warnings seriously, this chapter's really heavy. I'll put a detailed summary in the end notes.

CW: body horror, surgery/sedation

TW: intense (though brief) suicidal ideation

Junpei sits by himself in the operating room, his legs dangling over the side of the metal table and his unfocused gaze resting on the tiled floor. The edge of the table cuts into the backs of his thighs, and it's cold through the thin material of his hospital gown. He hugs his arms tighter to his body, fingers clenched tightly in the sides of the hospital gown to keep it closed. Both sides are completely open, which Ieiri had explained was to accommodate for his change in body size during the un-transmogrification. He wonders why she had a hospital gown like that already.

He wets his lips and starts kicking his heels against the bar behind them. He hasn't eaten yet today because Ieiri told him not to, and he's starting to feel a prickling nausea in the pit of his empty stomach. His arms are also covered in goosebumps even though it's not that cold in the room because he's basically naked and helpless and fuck, he feels sick he feels sick—

He swallows thickly and digs his fingers into his flesh until it hurts. His eyes start to sting, and he blinks, realizing he hasn't in too long. He kicks his heels harder into the bar until the table shakes with the impact. The nausea doesn't go away.

There's a knock at the door, and he jerks, body going stiff. He stares at the door, lips slightly parted and breath caught in his throat, heart hammering unevenly in his chest. The knock sounds again.

He wets his lips. "Come in," he says hoarsely, voice barely above a whisper. He also hasn't had anything to drink today, not because Ieiri told him not to, but because the idea of anything passing down his throat made him want to gag.

The door opens, and Ieiri steps in, an IV bag in her hand. She holds it up and shakes it slightly as she walks over to the table. "Meet your drug cocktail."

He watches her approach motionlessly, eyes fixed on the clear liquid sloshing in the bag instead of on her face. She stops at the IV pole and starts to rig the bag up, her movements practiced and casual. Then she's done and oh god oh fuck it's time—

"You two coming?" Ieiri calls through the half-open door as she steps over to the sink and washes her hands.

Junpei can't feel the tips of his fingers anymore.

The door pushes the rest of the way open, and Yuuji comes into view, his shoulders tense and his hands stuffed in his pockets. He doesn't look at Junpei as he walks over, just sits down heavily in a chair next to the head of the table. His body is unnaturally still. Yuuji's never that still.

Gojo walks in next, relaxed and confident as ever, and eases the door shut behind him. The latch clicks home with a finality that drops like a stone into the pit of Junpei's stomach. His eyes flick back to Yuuji, searching for reassurance, for warmth, for anything, but Yuuji's gaze remains on his own hands, clasped loosely between his knees.

Ieiri comes back to the table, dropping her used paper towels into the trash can. "Once this is inserted," she says, flicking the IV tube, "You'll be out pretty quickly. Then I'll put an oxygen tube down your throat so you can breathe. Yuuji will release his cursed energy. I'll undo Mahito's technique. Then you'll wake up and we'll get you started on some pain meds, because I'm sure you're going to need them."

Junpei takes in a shaky breath, the room going blurry around the corners.

"Everyone on the same page?"

Junpei looks at Yuuji, but Yuuji doesn't acknowledge Ieiri at all, so he looks back at Ieiri desperately, but she's already turned away from him, pulling latex gloves on like she got an enthusiastic confirmation from everyone in the room.

"Go ahead and lay back."

Mechanically, Junpei lifts his feet up onto the table, wrapping his arms around his legs to keep himself covered with the gown, and he scoots into place. He takes a few shuddering breaths, his inhales drawn out like he's about to go underwater. He grips the fabric of the hospital grown in his fists. Then he forces them to loosen, leaving damp, crumpled fabric behind, and he lays down. The lights above him are harsh. He crosses his arms over his stomach, his body horribly vulnerable.

"Give me your hand."

Each breath rasping over his tight throat, Junpei works one hand out from between his elbow and side. She takes it firmly, her skin cool even through the gloves. His eyes flick up to her face to find most of it hidden behind a mask. He looks over at Yuuji, who he's now level with, but Yuuji still won't look at him. His breath catches awfully in his chest as he feels something cold and wet swab over the back of his hand. His fingers twitch, and he almost yanks his hand away from Ieiri to grab Yuuji, to make him look at him, to make him be here. The cold point of the needle touches his skin, and his gaze snaps back down to his hand, eyes wide and terror rising like bile up his throat. The needle pushes in with a painful pinch that makes his breath hitch.

Wait wait wait wait wait—

Ieiri tapes it down, making the skin pull weirdly, but he already can't feel it he already can't feel it and his limbs are tingling and oh god oh fuck jesus christ please no—

Yuuji's eyes are drawn inexorably up to Junpei's face as Ieiri steps back from him and turns her focus to the monitors next to the table. He watches as all the tension seeps out of his body, his eyes rolling back in his head even as the lids fall shut, his lips parting and his head drifting to the side. He watches as Ieiri starts up the oxygen machine, as she props open Junpei's jaw, as she starts to feed the tube down his throat. It makes a sickening, wet noise with every centimeter she pushes it in, and Yuuji can see the lump it makes in Junpei's throat. He feels like he's going to throw up.

"Your turn."

Yuuji's head snaps up, and his eyes lock with Ieiri's from across the table, her heavy-lidded gaze cool and dispassionate over the mask covering the rest of her face. He looks back at Junpei, and Junpei looks too vulnerable with his neck and his collarbone fully exposed; with the slight rise and fall of his chest that Yuuji knows is only happening because of the tube sticking out of his open mouth; with the puckered edges of a few scars starkly pink against the pale skin of his shoulder—have those always been there? He looks too vulnerable, and fragile, he looks—he looks like he's already dead.

Yuuji stands abruptly from his chair, hands trembling at his sides, chest heaving unsteadily. Ieiri looks at him sharply, and he stares back at her with wide eyes, unable to voice the choking horror clawing at his throat. Tears blur his vision.

"Yuuji." Gojo speaks suddenly from the other side of the room. "Come out into the hall with me."

Yuuji blinks hard, fighting to swallow his tears back, and nods. Head hung low, he follows Gojo through the door. He hears Gojo shut it behind them, and then Gojo turns to face him.

"Yuuji. Look at me."

Hesitantly, Yuuji raises his eyes to Gojo's. Gojo's face is unreadable, or maybe that's just the tears that are blurring Yuuji's vision.

"If you don't go through with this, he will die the next time he fights a curse."

Yuuji's eyes widen, and the world starts to tilt around him. I can't I can't I can't— His tears spill over, and he digs the tips of his shaking fingers into his eye sockets. He feels sick, and if he has to go back in there, if he has to go through with it, if he has to see Junpei like that again—he can't. He can't do it. A shuddering sob seizes his chest, and he bites it back hard even as more tears squeeze out from behind his eyelids.

"I—can't do this," he chokes out, his voice wavering and catching.

Gojo doesn't reply immediately, just lets out a long breath through his nose. "You can," he says detachedly.

Yuuji shakes his head, fresh tears squeezing out. "I can't."

Gojo bends to bring his face even with Yuuji's and places his hands firmly on his shoulders. Yuuji avoids his gaze, chin trembling with the effort of holding back another sob. "But you will." He squeezes Yuuji's shoulders and then straightens, moving past Yuuji to head back into the operating room. "Be ready to go through with it when you walk through this door."

He pushes the door open, and Yuuji blurts out, his voice faltering, "Can Ieiri do it?" He turns partway to face Gojo, but can't look him in the face.

Gojo shuts the door again and turns back to Yuuji. "Do you really want her to?"

Tears well up in Yuuji's eyes, and he shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers.

"Then decide quickly."

With that, Gojo disappears into the operating room, leaving Yuuji alone in the hallway. He takes a shaky breath, and then another, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He scrubs at his cheeks with the backs of his hands and lifts his gaze to the door.

If you don't go through with this…

And if he does, he'll have to watch Junpei be warped into that again.

If he does, he'll be the one responsible for it.

But if he doesn't—

Junpei's counting on him. Junpei has trusted him with this.

He reaches out and pushes the door open. As he enters, a hushed conversation between Gojo and Ieiri abruptly cuts off, but he doesn't look at them. His eyes are fixed on Junpei, lying absolutely still on the table, precisely—eerily—how he had been when Yuuji had walked out.

"Ready?" Ieiri asks as she takes up her position on the opposite side of the table.

Ready? Absurdly, the question makes a laugh bubble up in his throat. Of course not, I can't be, I can't ever be. But he'll do it anyway. So he gives a firm nod, raising his eyes briefly to hers, and then he steps up to the table. He reaches for Junpei's hand, and then he stops short, his resolve wavering as his gaze flicks over Junpei's slack expression.

"Can I hold him?" he asks quietly.

Ieiri shakes her head. "It might cut the breathing tube off."

His brows pull together, but he nods again and takes Junpei's hand instead, lacing his fingers between Junpei's limp ones. His other hand goes to Junpei's head, thumb ghosting over his hair.

Gojo comes to stand at the foot of the table, arms folded and expression impassive, looking down at Junpei. Yuuji squeezes Junpei's hand, wishing desperately that Junpei were awake to give him the courage to go through with it. Still, he blows out a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

There's no going back.

Junpei slowly becomes aware of a faint glow. It's yellow, and warm enough that he can feel it as it draws closer. As its light reaches him, it reflects off the surface of a crystal, obscuring its true color. The brightest part of the light approaches the crystal, then engulfs it. As it does so, a tingling warmth washes over him that is replaced by a bone-deep chill the next second as it vanishes, leaving him in total darkness.

He waits.

A beeping sound reaches him, rapid and harsh and high-pitched.

A voice, too indistinct to make out more than the outline of its words.

He can't breathe. There's a weight on his chest and a fist closed around his throat and he can't breathe. Panic lights up in his mind, but he can't reach his body, can't make it work right.

The voice again: Shit!

The fist around his throat eases, then slips away, but the weight pressing down on his chest won't relent. His heart is pounding in his ears.

Breathe, dammit!

His chest loosens abruptly, and he sucks air in, his eyes flying open simultaneously. The harsh light above him hurts, and he squints his eyes closed again, each desperate breath rasping painfully through his dry throat. Then he registers something that had blocked his view, and he opens his eyes again to see an expanse of lumpy blue skin where his nose should be. His limbs are heavy as lead, and he can't feel them.

fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK—

"I'm going to have to do this fast, before he regains the rest of his feeling."

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck jesus christ NO—

His lips are too clumsy to form the words, and all that escapes his throat is a thin whimper.

"Hang on, Yoshino."

There's a dull sensation of pressure somewhere on his body, and then a shudder runs through his entire frame. With a tingling rush, sensation returns to his limbs, and in the next moment, they seize up as a scorching burst of pain slashes through him. His jaw opens wide, and a horrifying, choked-off moan reaches his ears.

"Hold him still!"

A pair of large hands shove down on his shoulders—Yuuji—Junpei opens his eyes, but his vision is blurry and the room sways sickeningly around him and he can't make anything more than a dark blur out of the figure standing above him. Another wave of pain crashes through him, and a scream rips his throat raw as tears spill from his eyes, agonizingly hot against his sensitive skin.

Yuuji Yuuji Yuuji please—

"You're almost there."

I can't I can't I can't I can't

Liquid fire pours into his veins, and he's being skinned alive.

let me die let me die let me die LET ME DIE

His bones are melting, hardening, stabbing and shearing through his muscles.

please please please please let me die

He's trying to shake his head, his lips trembling as they shape the words to beg her to make it stop.

"You are not allowed to give up now."

I don't want to die.

He had said that.

I don't want to die.

Stupid, stupid stupid.

I don't want to die.

please.

His muscles go slack as the worst of the pain leeches out of them. He lays there on his back, eyes squeezed shut, his breaths uneven and shallow, too scared to move. A couple of tears leak out and drip into his hair, but they don't burn his skin this time. Bile spurts up the back of his throat, and he lurches onto his side, his body seizing with a dry heave. Stomach acid dribbles from his lips, and there's a disembodied hand resting on his rounded back.

Tentatively, he blinks his eyes open and looks down at himself, his throat tight with fear. His body…his body is his own again. His vision is still blurred at the edges, but his hands, his arms, his bare feet…and his hair. His hair is black again. He exhales shakily, shutting his eyes again, and lets his head fall back against the metal table, too weak to hold it up.

"Well. He lived." Ieiri's voice speaks from somewhere above him, flat and grim. He hears her shoes clack on the tile as she comes around to the side of the table he's facing, and she bends down closer to him. "His vitals are about as stable as can be expected. How are you feeling?"

There's a throbbing ache settling into his joints, coupled with a sharp, prickling pain under the surface of his skin. He swallows, the taste of bile thick on his tongue, and a quiet moan escapes his lips. "Hurts."

"Yeah, that's about what I thought. Come on, let's get you moved to the other room and get you hooked up with some pain meds."

Junpei blows out a trembling breath, his shaking fists clenched loosely in his hospital gown as he tries to block out the pain. His muscles feel like they've been stretched until they snapped like old rubber bands. He can't imagine even sitting up, much less standing.

"Itadori, will you come grab him?"

There's a moment of silence, and Junpei opens his eyes again. Ieiri's blocking most of his vision, but she's turned away from him, looking at Yuuji, who is standing against the wall behind her. Junpei's eyes make their way up to Yuuji's face, and a cold shock runs through him. Yuuji's pale, his wide-eyed, unfocused gaze resting somewhere on the floor. Drying tear tracks streak his cheeks, and his eyes are glassy. His chest rises and falls shallowly.

A moment later, Ieiri turns back towards Junpei, blocking his view, and she says over his head, "Have you got him, Satoru?"

Junpei twists and sees Gojo in his peripheral vision, and he stiffens with discomfort as Gojo bends down and picks him up. His breath catches painfully in his throat as the motion jostles his throbbing limbs and the texture of Gojo's uniform scratches against his tender skin. Ieiri leads the way as Gojo carries him across the hallway and into a recovery room, where he settles Junpei carefully down on the bed. Ieiri pulls the blankets over him, and Junpei grabs onto them with clumsy, shaking fingers, grateful for the increased coverage they provide. She motions for his hand, and he gives it to her.

"These pain meds are probably going to make you pretty drowsy, so I'm expecting you to sleep for the next several hours," she says as she hooks him up to the heart monitor and shakes a couple pills out into his cupped palm. "I'll check on you regularly, but I don't think there'll be any complications. Your body just needs to resettle." She hands him a paper cup full of water, then helps him tilt his head up enough to swallow the pills. They lodge in his aching throat, but he gulps the water down until they go all the way down. She takes the cup from him and sets it on the table next to him, and he eases himself back onto the pillow.

Finally, she looks him in the eye, and with her mask pulled down under her chin, he can see her lips pressed together in the shadow of a smile. "Congratulations."

I did it. A hollow, raw sense of relief expands in his chest, tempered by a wave of exhaustion.

Ieiri turns to look over her shoulder, and she says, "Itadori, come here."

Junpei's eyes flick past her as Yuuji steps through the doorway hesitantly, the tension in his frame making him look unmistakably fragile. He pauses just past the threshold, and Ieiri motions him closer impatiently. "Come on." Yuuji ducks his head and comes over to stand at Junpei's bedside. Ieiri grabs one of his hands and, to Junpei's surprise, yanks it down to rest flat against his chest. His heart thudding, he looks up at Ieiri, wide-eyed, but she's focused on Yuuji.

"Feel that?" she says. "He's breathing. His heart is beating. He made it." She releases his hand, and Yuuji pulls it back a little, a conflicted expression on his face. Then she turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

Junpei's lids are starting to grow heavy, but he forces them to stay open. Yuuji's not looking him in the face, and he's standing motionlessly with his hand still partially extended and looking like he might cry. Junpei lifts his arm off the bed, his muscles trembling with the exertion, and brushes his fingers against Yuuji's. Yuuji starts a little, and finally, his eyes flick over to meet Junpei's gaze. He takes a couple of shaky breaths, his eyes filling with tears, and then he presses his lips together like he's trying to smile reassuringly. He sits down gingerly on the bed and turns away for a moment to wipe at his eyes.

Yuuji looks scared and small and broken, completely unlike himself, and if he weren't so exhausted, that might scare Junpei, too. As it is, he just lets his hand fall onto Yuuji's thigh, his eyelids drifting shut even as he hears Yuuji's breath hitch with silent sobs.

Megumi looks up as the operating room door swings open to allow Ieiri and Gojo through, Junpei cradled in his arms. He and Kugisaki watch them disappear into the recovery room, and a moment later, Itadori trails after them, his expression gutted and his shoulders rounded. Kugisaki gets to her feet, but Megumi grabs her arm and shakes his head at her. Scowling, she nevertheless stands still. Gojo comes back out of the room, dropping one hand onto Itadori's shoulder and squeezing as he passes him, and then makes his way over to the two students in the waiting room.

He stops in front of them, hands in his pockets.

"Well?" Megumi snaps.

"It worked," Gojo replies, and Megumi's brows pull together.

"Then what was all the screaming? I thought he was supposed to be put under."

"The transmogrification disrupted his breathing tube, and Ieiri had to cut the anaesthesia so he could breathe for himself," Gojo replies, his tone much too neutral for Megumi's taste.

"Jesus Christ," Kugisaki says under her breath.

"Then why didn't she stop and figure out a better solution before she put him through that?" Megumi presses, his teeth gritted.

"He can't survive for long in that form," Gojo replies evenly. "She opted to continue, hoping she could get him through it before the anaesthesia wore off completely."

"Obviously that didn't work."

Gojo shrugs. "He's alive, and his cursed energy's back to normal. The result's the same regardless of how we got there."

Megumi glares up at him, but then his gaze flicks behind Gojo as Ieiri comes out of the recovery room. She walks over to them, stripping the mask off of her face.

"Give it a minute, but I think it would be a good idea for you two to check on them," she says. "I'm going to go have a smoke." She continues on past them, already reaching into the pocket of her lab coat to retrieve her pack of cigarettes and her lighter. With practiced motions, she lights the cigarette while she backs into the door to push it open.

Megumi stands and brushes past Gojo with a hostile glare, followed by Kugisaki. He goes to the door of the recovery room and knocks, because to fucking hell with giving it a minute. There's silence for a moment, and then Yuuji's voice, much too quietly, says, "Come in."

Megumi pushes the door open, and he finds Yuuji sitting on the bed next to Junpei, his back to the door. He rubs both hands over his cheeks and then turns to face them, the shadow of a smile superimposed over his haunted expression. His eyes don't quite meet theirs. Megumi stops just inside the threshold, shutting the door behind Kugisaki, and he studies Yuuji in silence. He's never seen Yuuji like this before, and the discomfort of it burrows under his skin.

"Sounds like it was a rough go," Kugisaki says heavily, leaning back against the doorframe with her arms folded.

Yuuji nods, his gaze dropping to the floor, and then over to Junpei's face.

"He asleep?"

Yuuji nods again. His eyes are still on Junpei, and he sniffs, scrubbing at his cheeks with the back of his hand. Uncertainty prickles in Megumii's chest, and he glances over at Kugisaki, where he's surprised to find the same uncertainty in her eyes. After a moment, though, her brows pull together. She walks past Megumi and around the end of the bed to snatch a tissue from the side table. She shoves it in Yuuji's face, who accepts it and blows his nose.

"Sorry," Yuuji says, looking down at the tissue as he crumples it in his grip.

"The hell are you apologizing for, dumbass," Kugisaki murmurs, chopping him lightly on the top of the head.

Yuuji shrugs, and his eyes fill with tears. Megumi's gaze locks with Kugisaki's over Yuuji's head, and she shrugs too. Yuuji ducks his head, and the only sound in the tense silence are his quiet sniffles.

Kugisaki sighs. "I'd tell you to get out of here and get busy doing something else if I thought you'd actually do it."

Yuuji doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

She sighs again. "Then do you want us to keep you company?"
He nods, face contorting like the admission pains him.

"I'm gonna go grab my homework, then."

"Get mine while you're at it." Megumi says.

She scowls at him. "Get it yourself."

He gives her a pointed look, gesturing towards Yuuji with his head, and she rolls her eyes. "Ugh, fine."

"Yuuji's, too."

She presses her lips together tightly, but doesn't argue. "I'll be back." She turns on her heel and heads out of the room, leaving the two boys alone. Megumi walks slowly over to the bed and sits down next to Yuuji.

"Gojo told us what happened," he says without looking at him, his gaze fixed on his loosely clasped hands in his lap.

Yuuji's expression twists, and he curls in on himself as a nearly silent sob seizes his frame. "I just…" he begins, his voice choked down to a whisper. "Couldn't do anything." The last word catches on a sob, and he wipes furiously at the tears streaming down his cheeks. "It was hurting him so bad, and I couldn't…she asked me to hold him and I couldn't move, I couldn't touch him because he was like that and—he was screaming—and I just stood there and—He was trying to say stuff, too, and I think he said my name and—I think—I think he was…asking. To die." His voice breaks off, and he takes in a shuddering breath that gets stuck in his throat. His eyes are far away, glassy with tears and wide with horror. "I couldn't—I didn't do anything," he says, his voice quietly wavering.

Megumi's heart aches fiercely in his chest. It's stupid, it's stupid to care so much about Yuuji because some day soon, he is going to die.

But he can't help it.

Megumi reaches over and pulls him sharply into a one-armed hug. Yuuji stiffens, his breath catching, and then he drops his head to rest on Megumi's shoulder. Feeling horribly awkward but knowing he can't back out, Megumi keeps himself very still, and Yuuji latches onto him, his fingertips digging almost painfully hard into Megumi's back. His shoulders shake with a series of sobs, and Megumi barely breathes as he feels Yuuji's tears soak through the shoulder of his uniform.

Kugisaki better not come back now.

Still, he doesn't let go of Yuuji, even though it's too warm for them to be this close to each other, even though Yuuji's head is uncomfortably heavy on his shoulder, even though Kugisaki will literally never let him hear the end of it if she walks in on them like this.

Yuuji pulls away from the hug, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand, the tissue forgotten in his other fist. "Sorry."

Megumi stares at him, his jaw clenched tightly, chest aching with how badly he wants to protect Yuuji from this, to fix the damage done to him, to make sure nothing ever hurts him like this again. But the stops and starts his brain makes are too slow and too inadequate, and the silence stretches on, and then it's been too long for him to say anything.

The door opens, and Megumi looks quickly away from Yuuji, schooling his expression back to indifference. Kugisaki pushes her way inside, three backpacks dangling from her grip. She lifts Megumi's and swings it like she's going to toss it at him. Instinctively, he raises his hands to catch it, and then she pulls it back and sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out for it, and she obliges him by handing it over.

To cover the uncomfortable vulnerability still niggling at him, Megumi stands from the bed and takes a chair instead, digging through his backpack to pull out some homework. He ignores the way he can feel Yuuji's eyes lingering on him. Kugisaki takes a seat next to him, tossing Yuuji's backpack at his feet, and gets out her own homework.

Yuuji doesn't say anything else about it after that, and Megumi doesn't ask, but he stares at his homework for long stretches of time, gaze vacant, without making any progress on it. And when the time rolls around for Megumi and Kugisaki to go back to the dorms for bed, Yuuji just shakes his head and says he's sleeping in the room with Junpei. So Megumi leaves him there, his throat tight with frustration that has nowhere to go.

Junpei blinks his eyes open sluggishly, his gaze resting vacantly on the ceiling above him, where the fan is lazily turning. He tries to swallow, but his throat is too dry. He turns his head and sees a big plastic water bottle on the side table, a thick straw sticking out of the top. He starts to push himself up so he can reach it, muscles trembling violently, and then he notices a heavy pressure against his other side. He turns his head the other way, and Yuuji's wild hair tickles his nose. He lifts his head off of the pillow just enough to see past Yuuji's hair, and he sees Yuuji curled up next to him on top of the blankets, sound asleep, snoring lightly, with his butt hanging off the bed. The sight makes something warm flicker in his chest that's almost amusement.

Junpei's head falls back onto the pillow, and he takes a couple inhales as deep as he can get them before his sore ribcage twinges in protest. After a moment, he squirms enough to move a few centimeters away from Yuuji, and then he stops, a shaky breath passing through his lips as the movement reignites the sharp ache in his limbs. He lies there, breathing hard, Yuuji's head still resting heavily on his shoulder, and he knows he's never going to be able to move both of them over.

So he reaches out towards the side table, stretching his arm as far as he can, and he manages to grasp the bottle. He brings it to him and lifts his head off the pillow again, clumsily getting the straw in his mouth. He sucks greedily, droplets of water spilling out of the corner of his mouth, down his chin, and onto the bedsheets. When he can't hold his head up anymore, he lays back gasping.

Then he realizes that he can feel the texture of the quilt on his bare thigh. He raises his head again, neck muscles shaking with the effort, and finds his neatly folded pile of clothes also on the side table. With no plan beyond get out of the stupid hospital gown, he grabs for them and slides them off the table and into his lap. He picks his boxers up and bends his knees so he can bring his feet close enough up to get them into the legholes. He squirms and wiggles his way into them, then has to lay still until his head stops spinning. He picks his pants up next, and as he's clumsily trying to shake them out without sitting up, a small white lump falls out of the pocket and into his lap.

He snatches it up, its jagged edge digging into the pad of his thumb. Moon Dregs. Reckless hope lighting in his chest, he clenches the piece of bone tightly in his left hand and raises his right hand with his index and middle finger pointed over his shoulder. At the last moment, he squeezes his eyes shut. He reaches into his cursed energy. Come on. Come on, you can do this. A cool feeling washes over him, and light presses against his eyelids.

He opens his eyes, and his breath catches in his throat when he sees Moon Dregs hovering at the end of the bed, its glowing tentacles swaying softly in the still air. He blinks back tears, his chest abruptly loosening with relief.

"Yuuji," he whispers, reaching over to shake him awake without taking his eyes off of Moon Dregs. "Yuuji."

Yuuji twitches and then groans, his eyes blinking open. "Mm?"

"Yuuji, look."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Yuuji pushes himself up onto his elbow and turns. He goes still when he sees Moon Dregs, his lips parting slightly.

"We did it," Junpei says in a hushed voice, a disbelieving smile tugging at his lips.

Yuuji nods, a crease between his brows like he can't quite process what he's seeing.

Junpei turns to look at Yuuji, the smile spreading into a grin even as tears well up in his eyes. "Thank you." He pulls Yuuji down on top of him, holding him there with what little strength he has. "Thank you so much."

Yuuji relaxes into the hug, his full weight pressing down on Junpei's chest, but he doesn't speak, just buries his face in Junpei's shoulder.

Junpei's gaze flicks back to Moon Dregs, and a giddy joy bubbles up in his chest. He lets out a breathless, teary laugh and hugs Yuuji to him. "Thank you."

Yuuji's fist closes around the fabric over Junpei's heart, and he still doesn't say anything, but Junpei feels his chest shudder and the dampness that seeps through the shoulder of his hospital gown a moment later.

Nanami takes the steps up to the clinic slowly, the moonlight making the flagstones almost glow. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his suit jacket hung over one arm. He pauses in front of the door and tilts his wrist to check the time. Suppressing a sigh and feeling every extra hour he put in to chase down ultimately fruitless leads, he pulls the door open. Inside, it's silent and dark, except for the white light that peeks out from under the morgue door.

He walks past the waiting area, absentmindedly massaging the palm of his right hand, and stops outside the first recovery room. He knocks softly, not expecting a response, and he doesn't get one, just a faint snore. Quietly, he eases the door open and looks inside.

He finds Junpei and Yuuji asleep on the bed, Yuuji half on top of the other boy and still looking like he might fall off with one wrong move. Yuuji's the one snoring, his head turned to the side where it rests on Junpei's chest. Junpei has his arms loosely curled around Yuuji, and his hair—black again, an unexpectedly strange sight—has fallen to the side enough to show his eye and a few of the scars on his forehead.

Nanami allows for a modicum of relief to loosen the tension in his shoulders. Gojo had told him that the un-transmogrification had succeeded, but he needed to see for himself that the boys were safe.

Nanami checks his watch again. He'll have to be up again in a few hours. There aren't many leads left, and he and his team have already exhausted the only ones that seemed likely, but he's not going to leave any stone unturned when it comes to tracking Mahito down. If he personally has to dive into every cesspool that collects curses in the city, he will do it to make sure Mahito will not have the chance to touch either of them ever again.

A/N: Ieiri puts Junpei under for the un-transmogrification, and then Yuuji has a panic attack over what he has to do. Gojo pulls him aside and...kind of encourages him. (It's Gojo, keep your expectations low lol) Yuuji almost asks Ieiri to do his part, but then decides to do it himself since Junpei trusted him with it. He removes his cursed energy, and when Junpei changes back into his transmogrified state, the breathing tube gets blocked off. Ieiri cuts the anaesthesia so he can wake up and breathe for himself, but decides to complete the un-transmogrification while he's waking up. Junpei becomes fully conscious as the pain reaches its peak, and he wants to die. Ieiri tells him not to give up, and he remembers telling Yuuji that he didn't want to die. He makes it through, and they move him to a recovery room to sleep it off with some pain meds. Yuuji's intensely traumatized by what happened, and when Megumi talks to him about it, he breaks down. That night, Junpei wakes up and realizes that he can summon Moon Dregs again. He does so, using one of the pieces of Nagi's bone as his intermediary. He wakes Yuuji up so he can see it. Later that night, Nanami comes to check on them.

After this, things get better for our boys. They still have shit to deal with, obviously, but the worst is over. Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this story so far 3