The building eventually caved, beams crashing down, stones exploding from the intense heat. Now that everyone was out of danger and the fire contained, Tōga allowed his senses to stray to the medical truck which, ironically, had barely been used… except to handle his wayward little lady. And from the slight shuffle that reached him – he refused to be in her presence until he had properly cooled down – she was awaking.

"She'll be fine Toga", Stephen told him when he emerged.

The Captain sent his friend a glare that only caused the smirk to broaden. The doctor had never been intimidated by his height, or his greater strength. This strange immunity was the foundations of a solid friendship. Out of them all, Stephen could read him easily. And given the twinkle that shone in his green eyes, the man knew exactly what was running through his mind.

"Why did she pass out, then ?"

"Shock and dehydration."

Tōga ran a nervous hand in his silver strands, tangling it up even worse than the helmet had. Guilt gnawed at his insides; he'd never yelled at his subordinates with such passion, never felt on the brink of losing himself so badly. His bones still shook from fear, and he pushed away the memory of her lithe form, huddled in the brazier. One more second… one more second, and the vortex of fire would have swallowed her whole, burnt her to ashes.

In another reality, Gwen was scattered to the winds. Stephen's hand upon his shoulder startled him, disrupting the many, many bruises that were sure to appear on his skin.

"She'll be fine, Tōga. You saved her life."

"It is because of me she's…"

The delicate hands of the medic squeezed once more, and the Captain swallowed.

"Any other wounds ?", he asked.

The doc shook his head, giving the truck fond look, as if he could see Gwen through the doors. From there, Tōga heard a groan. Silly girl. She had launched herself in the fray, ignoring that he was much better equipped than anyone else to conquer this battlefield.

"Her shoulder will bruise, that's it. Now, mister invincible, can I have a look at your knee ?"

Tōga flexed the joint experimentally, wincing when his forced movement strained the muscles.

"It will heal", he shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

The Captain limped away, shoulders tense and mind in turmoil. Gwen deserved the suspension for disobeying orders. Did she deserve the yelling ? She had looked so heartbroken, so frightened by his outburst that his stomach churned. But if rejection was what it took to keep her safe…

So be it.

"Hey !", Stephen called from the medical truck. He turned around with a roll of his eyes, wondering what else he might have to say about this. The doc gave him a calculating glance - the look out of place in his jovial face - as if searching for secrets he wasn't ready to spill. The effect was lost on him; after facing Gwen's sight, no inquisitive perusal could ever faze him.

A slow smile crept up the corner of Stephen's thin lips.

"Don't keep her in the doghouse."

Tōga's eyebrows rose. Did Stephen know about their little game ? For once, he allowed his inner self to surface and gave his friend a regal nod that the Inu no Taishō had practised thousands of times. The doc only smiled. Tōga snorted; what a freaking day… and it wasn't even noon.

Many long and dragging hours later.

Jolyne marched into his office as if a bataillon of soldiers chased her. Rather than rebuking the lack of knocking, Tōga gave her THE eyebrow. At once, the thirty-year-old woman froze and reached for a wayward curl to keep her fingers busy.

"I…"

Silence. Tōga knew, from past and present life, that the best way to extract information was to pin someone with an intense stare, and wait. Sesshōmaru had elevated that skill to the rank of art, but he'd inherited it from his own father. Jolyne was a jovial woman, and burst within ten seconds.

"You need to kick her out of here, Captain."

Her. As if the world revolved around her, and she need not be named. There was no question as to whom Jolyne was referring to; even though the unit lead had no clue what was going on between them, she'd caught their closeness.

"Do I ?", he asked, his tone dangerous. He'd be damned if he allowed his subordinates to order him about. But Jolyne was too anxious to heed the warning, and if she had dared, he had no doubt she would have grabbed his shoulders and shaken him.

"She's been on the piano since this morning. She doesn't speak to us, didn't stop for lunch, and she's not resting like she should !"

Tōga frowned, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. Wondering why he had not caught on that the piano had not stopped for hours.

"Good luck Capt'n, I'm off."

Jolyne scurried away; she was obviously at the end of her rope. And given Erik's team had gone home for a much-needed rest, the responsibility fell to him.

Tōga took a deep breath; the report of the morning fire looked him in the eye. He was in the process of writing how he had found the child, and descended through the ladder to hand him over his weeping mother. Then… he would have to write, with neutral and non-emotional words, the sheer terror that had gripped his guts when Erik had informed him that Gwen had dived into the furnace, following his steps.

He'd climbed that ladder faster than he'd ever run before. Plunged into the groaning building, using his yōki to prod corridors in hopes of locating her, blood pumping so fast it was a wonder his heart had not leapt out of his chest. Dread had seeped into him with every passing second, the fear of failure, or finding her too late… or not at all. And that blazing building that dared him, taunted him… just like the mansion that had nearly swallowed Izayoi and InuYasha, five hundred years ago.

His death had looked him in the eye and the same feeling had arisen then; he would gladly surrender if it meant saving her. But this time, things had been different, because Gwen needed him. There was no heroic death awaiting, this time; her survival depended in his.

Tōga shivered, memories mingling with the present, soaring with the distressed music. The report would have to wait, because he sure as hell could hear the angry notes that reached all the way up to his office. After the ordeal she'd been through, Gwen should be resting, not exerting herself over the piano. Even though he could feel, clear as day, the pain she expressed in her playing.

The very idea of scolding her again twisted his guts. Surely he'd done enough damage. But someone needed to stop her. He stood and descended the first steps that led to the ground floor, wincing at the pull upon the knee that had accommodated the two-stories fall.

The music got to him first, haunting under the little fingers that knew no rest. For a moment, he wondered if Gwen was spelled, so entranced in her feelings that she wouldn't stop until she collapsed. Her hands moved so fast, abusing the piano, control ebbing away as distress poured out of the instrument.

Unbound hair danced like the ripples of an ocean. And those loose strands, tawny waves that fell to her waist, seemed to have a mind of their own. The young woman rocked as she played, like an autistic child whose emotions ran havoc without finding the proper escape.

Her anguish hit him full force, fully conveyed by the desperate energy that poured into the piano in hopes someone would hear her.

He heard.

It hurt.

Gwen had gone through a traumatic experience, facing her own mortality, and he'd just yelled at her like an unhinged man. Where was his legendary control ? His charm ? Gone down the drain. He'd been so fucking terrified, so angry that she would willingly put herself in danger… for him !

Gwen finished her piece, and he descended a few more steps, intend on stopping her… but her fingers started another already. Tōga almost sighed in relief when the frenzy was replaced by a much slower rhythm, her dainty fingers nearly caressing the notes. The relief was short lived; sadness had replaced distress, and the mood crushed what remained of his heart.

Now he could see plainly. Underneath the anger lay an ocean of sadness, and she was laying her feelings at his feet, as raw as they day they were created. How could simple music be so moving ? Tōga's breath caught when she discreetly wiped her cheek.

Fingers light, she seemed to call to the heavens, asking forgiveness… weeping for it.

His knuckles caught the railing. She had dived into that fire to save his ass. And albeit he didn't need it, it was the more powerful token of love he'd ever been offered. Gwen had nearly given her life for his.

Unacceptable.

Tōga shivered; the polished wood groaned under the strength of his grip, the vibrations from the piano traversing him like gamma radiations, levelling his cells under the strength of sorrow.

He remembered his last words to Sesshōmaru, half a millenia ago.

Have you someone to protect ?

Realisation hit him like a brick wall, knocking his common sense unconscious. He couldn't lose her. She was the one to protect, that precious soul without whom the whole word wouldn't spin right.

And still she played her piece, slow and melancholic, her fingers languorous on the piano. Its beauty bled him raw. And when Gwen turned her head to wipe another tear on her shoulder, Tōga's restraint broke. Or rather, he seemed to awaken to the world. He marched down like a commander about to lay waste on the battlefield and grabbed her sleeve.

Gwen gasped; for once, he had surprised her.

"Come", he ordered.

And she followed.