Generic Disclaimer: Gensomaden Saiyuki and the characters contained within don't belong to me, much as I wish they were. sigh...

This one went by faster than I expected, although I found it somewhat difficult to bring it to a close. Gojyo is a more fun perspective to write from in this story than he has been in others. Looking forward now, it appears that most of the story is going to be in either Sanzo or Gojyo's viewpoint. Fun, fun, fun.

This chapter is R for bad language. I found it difficult to keep the language from getting too repetitive, but I think I managed. Slight references to the demonic tree in episode 13, and the plant demon in episode 14. Next chapter: Hakkai's nightmare. Like we really have to guess to figure out what it'll be about. XD!

Review comments on the bottom.

---

---

italics indicate emphasis, internal dialogue, and dialogue that has occurred in the past/memories.

FEAR ITSELF

"...the only thing we have to fear is fear itself -- nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."

Franklin D. Roosevelt, first inaugural address – March 4, 1933

---

---

SECTION FIVE

---

---

Gojyo silently cursed his hands when he tried to light his second cigarette in as many minutes. They trembled, minutely, just enough that he could see the flame flickering from something other than his breath, just enough that he could feel the vibration of muscles that refused to work smoothly and efficiently. He didn't want to reveal how rattled he still was from the encounter with that... thing... but he knew that if his lighter had not cooperated with him, he probably would have thrown it on the ground and pitched a screaming fit like a little fucking child.

The gods of compassion were on his side, it seemed, for his lighter worked on the first try. He drew more of the heavenly nicotine into his lungs and held his breath for as long as he could.

If Sanzo noticed his current state he showed no sign of it. If Sanzo did notice it, Gojyo was profusely thankful that, for once, he had opted for the path less vocal. No words had passed between them since he had lit the monk's cigarette, and Gojyo was thankful for that, too. He didn't think he could trust his voice right now. He feared it might tremble, just like his hands.

Don't listen to him. It's okay to dream. In your dreams you can do what you were always meant to do... die for me...

He exhaled, perhaps a little too hastily, too noisily, and watched the smoke curl around his face. There was no breeze on the pathway, despite the fact that it was probably one of the only places in this damned forest that actually had access to the sky. Moonlight lit the haze from above, and he silently observed the tiny particles in the smoke that weren't visible during the day. It was rather similar to watching dust motes float through a beam of sunlight.

Is that really what I'm sucking into my lungs? he wondered absently. No wonder people are always complaining about how smoking is bad for your health. Weak bastards.

He resolutely pushed away the image of tear-stained cheeks framing an eerie, sad smile. He didn't want to look at it, didn't want to touch it, just wanted to keep his mind empty. If he could focus on stupid, empty things right now, he wouldn't have to look back at the nightmare he had just gone through.

The gods knew he had dreamed that dream before a thousand times, but never had it been so vivid, so real... and at the same time, so incredibly alien.

Gojyo envied Sanzo for being so calm right now. He wasn't even halfway through his cigarette – the stick was tucked between the first two fingers of his left hand, his arm draped across his knee, the cherry happily burning away into oblivion. He was staring off into the woods as if there wasn't a care in the world, with that stupid monkley 'I'm meditating, don't bother me if you don't want your head ventilated' look on his face. As if he hadn't just been witness someone else's private nightmare and blown it away to smithereens.

He felt horribly, terribly violated. Memories like that weren't meant to be shared with other people. Spoken about, yes, but not shared – not seen, not experienced. In a sick kind of way they were like precious memories, kept close to the heart where they would continue to piece the soul and suck away at life until you died a miserable death. They were terrible things, and to let them loose into the light of day was like deliberately letting a monster wreak havoc in your front room. Nobody wanted to see that. Nobody wanted anyone else to see that, either. That's why bad memories were so often swept under the carpet, just like the mess you didn't want the guests to see when they walked through the front door.

He wondered if this was what it was like for women who had been raped. A crude comparison, but it seemed accurate all the same. Having someone... something... sneak into his mind like that and drag out the foulest, cruddiest thing it could find and put it out on display was a... disgusting feeling. Revolting. It made him feel so fucking weak.

And Sanzo had to see it, too. As if he needed the monk to find any other reason to call him weak or useless. In many ways that only made the experience worse. He didn't want the other man to see his private nightmares.

All the same, if Gojyo had to go through the entire experience again, he knew now he would have unlocked that door the instant he realized Sanzo stood outside it. The gratitude he felt towards the priest was so profound it almost shoved aside the revulsion that crawled inside his chest, combating the calming effects of the nicotine. If he had been less distraught at the moment he might have even considered kissing the guy, just to piss him off.

Instead he would settle for lighting Sanzo's cigarettes. That was probably the best thanks he could give right now.

The half-breed took a deep breath, exhaled, and then sucked in another lungful of smoke, bringing his hand up to pull the cigarette away from his lips. He felt gritty, like dirt had managed to work its way into his clothes. There was dirt on his forehead, too, and on his right cheek; he absently brushed the specks away with his thumb, careful not to let the cherry too close to his bangs. Beneath the dirt on his cheek he could feel the slick-dried tracks of tears. He scrubbed the evidence away as discretely as he could.

He let another minute pass by, marking time by how quickly his cigarette disappeared. The flame he put to his third one was steady, and though he could still feel the tremors in his arms, they were far less visible.

"So," he said, finally breaking the silence, leaning back on one arm and pushing the Zippo back in his pocket. His cigarette was clenched between his front teeth. "What, exactly, do you think that thing is?"

Sanzo's eyes flicked back in his direction, bored and otherwise expressionless. There was dirt smudged on his face as well, a streak of mud on his left cheekbone that showed up dark as a bruise against his pale skin. If Gojyo hadn't known him for as long as he had, hadn't practically slept in his back pocket for as long as he had, he wouldn't have believed that the priest had just been through Gojyo's personal hell and back. Fuck, he wasn't even breathing hard anymore. Asshole.

The priest brought the cigarette back to his lips, took a drag deep enough to bring the cherry all the way back to the filter, and then smudged the remainder out against a rock at his hip. "A plant," he replied stoically, the smoke escaping in those two words forming a ghostly halo around his face.

"A plant," Gojyo repeated. That was something that was altogether too obvious to him. Yeah, it was a fucking plant; he still had part of the creeper attached to his calf. He had made a token effort to pull the sucker off earlier, but the pain had been too much when combined with the frantic beating of his heart and the trembling of his hands. He could feel it there still, itching like a mother, burning like someone held a lit match to his skin. The muscle in that calf was threatening to seize up on him, and he was careful to keep his leg stretched out heel-first. "Yeah, I think I noticed that part."

"Good for you," the priest replied monotonously, and offered no more information, his violet gaze still cast down to where he had stubbed out his cigarette.

Anger coursed through him like a tidal wave, and then abruptly flowed away again, leaving him exhausted in its wake. He was tired. This whole thing left him so fucking tired. First Zenon playing Duck Hunter with him in the bushes, then that... that nightmare, and then the run through the woods that really shouldn't have taken this kind of toll on him... it all left him so tired. Hakkai, no doubt, would cheerfully blame it on the cigarettes, but Hakkai wasn't there right now, so –

Wait a second. Hakkai wasn't there. Neither was the monkey. It was only him, the monk, and Hakuryuu, who sat patient and still as death on a nearby branch. Panic seized him irrationally, he struggled to force it down. He only succeeded part-way.

"Where the hell is Hakkai and Goku?" he blurted. He could hear the fear that tinted his words, but figured that was better than flat-out panic.

Sanzo sighed, the sound strangely heavy and loud in the silence that surrounded them, and lifted his eyes to look back out into the woods. "Probably caught up by that plant as well," he replied. His voice was flat, almost carefully so.

"What?!" Gojyo surged forward, rolling onto his knees and reaching out to snatch his weapon away from where it rested at Sanzo's side. The priest recoiled at the sudden movement, almost looking startled, but the action failed to register with him until later, when he had a moment to really sit down and review all the events with a clear mind. If he had been paying attention, he realized later, he would have noticed how tense and on-edge the monk was, and might have considered rephrasing some of the things he said.

Maybe.

But he wasn't paying attention to those subtle signs at the moment. At the moment, he was royally pissed that Sanzo was sitting here with him and chewing the fat when their friends were possibly being gnawed on by a monster vine somewhere in this god damned forest. That angered him to no small extent.

"What the hell are we sitting here for?" he snarled, unable to keep the bite out of his tone, and pushed himself to his feet, using the shakujou as a brace. His calf threatened to seize again, and with a snarl he bent over and ripped the creeper from his flesh. The pain only served to sharpen his anger, rather than remove him from it. "If they're out there being eaten by some nightmare plant from hell, we should be out there looking for them, not sitting here twiddling our thumbs! Fuck!"

"And where exactly to you propose to look for them?" Sanzo snapped in return. He made no move to get to his feet, instead pinning the half-breed with a narrow look from beneath thick bangs. "If you want to run out into that shithole without any idea of where to go, be my guest. I have no need look after useless idiots."

Gojyo had shrugged that particular insult off a hundred times before, but after what had just transpired it stung like a slap in the face. It hurt in a way it hadn't hurt before, reaching that tiny part of him that was terribly exposed at the moment, the part of him that heard those words and believed they were the truth.

"What are we supposed to do then, high-and-mighty Sanzo-houshi-sama?" he hissed. "You're going to wait for them to dig themselves out of their own holes and come crawling back to you? Fuck that!"

"Sit down and shut up," the priest snarled in reply, anger lighting the violet eyes that had previously been so meticulously wiped clean of emotion. "I can't think with you crying in my ear like an irritating child."

"Child?!" Gojyo's arm had whipped out almost without conscious thought, and he seized the monk by the front of his robes and half-dragged him to his feet. Sanzo's right hand wrapped around his bicep in a brutally tight grip, with more strength than those delicate fingers looked like they possessed, but made no move to pull himself out of Gojyo's grasp. "If me worrying about Hakkai and Goku is childlike, then you're the one acting like a fucking child! Sitting here sharing a smoke while they're out there possibly getting killed is childlike, you son of a bitch! Aren't you even the least bit worried about them, you pompous assho– ?!"

Air escaped him in one brutally painful, involuntary exhalation, and the half-demon released Sanzo out of reflex. Even now, even at the receiving end of that nasty strike, it always surprised Gojyo just how wicked a left hook the priest had. It always came out of nowhere, when you were least expecting it, in the place that you were least capable of blocking. With one hand wrapped in Sanzo's robes and the other grasping his weapon, he would have been unable to block the punch to his sternum even if he had seen the attack coming. Now it was all he could do to stand while he tried to suck air back into his pitifully deflated lungs, leaned heavily on his shakujou with both hands wrapped around the pole.

Fucking bitch, he thought spitefully. I fucking hate you sometimes.

As Gojyo fought to get his breath back, the priest calmly settled himself in a kneeling position, resting his palms on his thighs. "If you're quite through with your temper tantrum," he growled, "then maybe we can try thinking about this a little more rationally. Running out there without knowing what we're dealing with will only get us killed."

"Didn't stop you from getting me," the half-breed spat once breath returned to him. He greedily sucked the air in, still resting his weight heavily on his weapon. The paddle blade was sunk more than half-way into the dirt, and he was absently glad that he hadn't accidentally stuck it on his foot when Sanzo had punched him.

"Different matter," Sanzo snapped. "I tripped over you. I didn't exactly know you were there."

"Whatever." Gojyo straightened and rested one hand on his hip. "What the hell is the problem? It's just a plant – not something we haven't dealt with before. A little weed-whacking will get the job done."

"The last plant we dealt with had a sentient demonic mouthpiece, if you recall. So far, this one doesn't. Now sit the hell down, I'm not going to stare up at you during this whole conversation."

The anger was beginning to leave him again. Under normal situations he and Sanzo only barely got along – most of the time he couldn't stand the uptight bastard, and the feeling was probably mutual. They just had too many bad habits that got on the other's nerves. However (and he hated to admit it, even to himself), the priest had a point. They didn't know where Hakkai and Goku were, and they didn't have the advantage of light to see the vine coming after them. This wasn't like an average ambush from a pack of stupid demons. They would have to have a plan for this.

Damnit, Gojyo swore silently. He hated being one-upped by Sanzo like this. If it hadn't been for that damn nightmare, he probably would have suggested a plan first. But his nerves were in the way... were still in the way...

He sighed and plopped himself back down, dropping the shakujou beside him. "So what, then? Can't we just find the other two and worry about killing the vine when we get to that bridge?"

"Moron." The word was by no means fond, but it was less sharp in tone that the words before it. "What if they're caught up on the vine when we get there?"

Gojyo made a hacking motion with one hand. "We just cut them loose. What's so difficult about this, Sanzo? If we kill the plant, we let them loose, just like with the ninjinka tree and that plant demon. Nothing to it."

The priest turned his eyes away, back out into the forest. He seemed almost... hesitant. And that wasn't a word the red-head would normally use in the same sentence with the blonde monk. Sanzo never hesitated. At least, not about things like this. Not about life or death – and Gojyo knew this was life or death. Knew it like he knew he would have died in that dream if –

Shut it, he told his mind firmly. You can't die in dreams. Stop thinking about it all ready!

"That vine..." Sanzo kept his eyes away from the half-demon, the violet depths unfocused in a way that declared deep thought. "Somehow, it taps into our fears. That's why we can't kill the plant while they're still attached to it."

Something about the way he stated that disturbed Gojyo, and not just because it brought up, unbidden, the hazy image of his mother looming over him with a sharp axe. He tried to push it away, but this time the picture stayed, resolute in haunting him.

Damn. He needed another cigarette.

"So what are you saying?" he asked. He leaned to the side in order to retrieve his cigarettes, pulling them out his jeans pocket. "You think it's feeding on our fears or something?"

"Maybe," the priest replied. "I don't know. Fear and anger are strong emotions that easily manipulate our chi. It could be that the kudzu is digging into our nightmares in order to raise our chi and feed off us. Don't you feel drained?"

As a matter of fact, he did – drained in the way that left his muscles feeling quivery, even if they didn't actually tremble anymore. Drained enough that, if he wasn't so on edge, he would want to go to sleep, right there in the middle of the woods. But he wasn't going to say all that to Sanzo.

"A little," he admitted. And the sight suddenly caught his eye – the front of Sanzo's robes were in a disarray, torn and slightly mottled with blood and plant matter. "Why do you ask like you expect me to feel drained?"

That earned him a startled side-glance from those violet eyes, and Gojyo abruptly realized what the torn robes signified. He pointed a finger accusingly at the priest, cigarettes forgotten in his other hand. "You got stuck on that thing too, didn't you? That's why you're so hesitant about this whole thing. It got into your head, didn't it?"

Sanzo's nostrils flared in anger, and he narrowed his eyes spitefully. "We're talking about how to deal with the plant and get the other two back. Don't get side-tracked."

But he doesn't deny it, the red-head thought. Damn. No wonder he's been such a bitch. If Sanzo had been caught in a nightmare anywhere near like his own – and Gojyo knew the guy had some fucked-up childhood issues (Sounds like someone else I know, huh?) – then perhaps he could forgive the guy some of his previous statements. Maybe.

And yet, the fact that Sanzo was managing to deal with this situation without loosing his cool only served to fan Gojyo's anger. And jealousy – why the hell couldn't he keep a lid on his own nerves like that?

He settled back on one hand, glaring off to the side, where Hakuryuu was huddled pitifully on his branch. "Okay. So we can't just kill the plant while it's busy sucking up their fear, or whatever. How did we get free?"

"We woke up," the priest replied.

Gojyo resolutely reigned in his anger. Sanzo had managed to pull himself out of his own nightmare, and yet he hadn't been able to do the same with his own. Damn he was pitiful. He couldn't do anything right, could he? Couldn't even save himself from himself. Shit.

"Then we want to wake Hakkai and Goku up before cutting them off from the plant?" he asked. He didn't look away from the dragon.

"That's... probably the safest method. The psyche is a very delicate thing. Forcefully ripping them from a memory as painful as the plant will likely inflict could cause serious damage – it might even kill them."

"And I'm not too inclined to letting Hakkai get killed by a plant," Gojyo muttered. He curled his fingers around the package of cigarettes in his palm, squeezing it. It felt mostly empty – maybe only one or two sticks left. "Hey... do you think... "

The air was silent for a moment. There was still no breeze, no breath of air to soothe away the oppressive heat of the night.

"Spit it out," the priest said after minute. He sounded tired.

Gojyo still made no move to look back at him. "You think we could have died in there?" He didn't bother to clarify what he meant by 'in there'.

Sanzo's reply came after another moment of silence. "I don't know."

---

The plan was fairly simple: find Hakkai and Goku, wake them up, cut them loose from the plant, and run like the devil was on their heels. Practical application of the plan was, of course, not nearly so simple or easy.

Sanzo had been fairly reluctant in revealing just how he had managed to wake himself up, but the idea was fairly sound. Somehow, the plant became a part of the dream, and tried to kill the dreamer in the dream. Find out what part of the dream was the plant, kill the plant, and wake the dreamer up. And then cut the plant off and run like the devil was on their heels. Which it likely would be.

Gojyo had, of course, objected at this point in the conversation. Just how was he supposed to get into the dream in order find out what part of the dream was the plant, kill the plant, etc., to the point of running?

"Touch him," Sanzo replied. "Somehow, that pulled me into your dream."

"You touched me?" The red-head leered. "I'm not even sure I wanna ask where..."

"Shut it, asshole! We're trying to be serious!"

"Ouch! Shit, fine, whatever. But what if 'touching' doesn't work? What if I touch Hakkai and it doesn't drag me in? I'm not a hot-shot priest with the magical powers of the gods, here."

"I don't know. Use your best judgment. Cut him loose, if you think that's the only other alternative."

Gojyo banished his weapon after the third time it got caught on a tree branch overhead. He didn't like wandering after Hakuryuu without it in his palms, but the damn crescent blade snagging on every twig he passed under was only slowing him up and causing an inordinate amount of noise. He wouldn't be able to hear if the kudzu vine was trailing him with all the racket he was making – and he wouldn't be able to hide, either. He hadn't brought up the fact before splitting with Sanzo, but it was entirely possible that Homura and company were still hanging around these woods, sharing a beer and laughing at how the dumb shits had gotten their ass handed to them on a platter by a plant. He didn't want any of the gods to come down on him while he was wandering around blind trying to find his friend.

Well, maybe they could come down after he'd found Hakkai and cut him loose. If they shared the beer.

The white dragon winged its way to a protruding branch and settled itself down, craning its long neck back towards Gojyo. Sanzo had been the one to suggesting splitting up – that the two of them looking separately would get results faster than both of them looking for the same missing member of their party. He hadn't liked it, personally – still didn't like it – because what would happen if one of them ended up tangling with the vine again? Then there would only be one person left, looking for three people that were busy dreaming their way through their worst nightmares.

"Then don't get caught," the priest replied. "I'm not wasting my time on you again."

"Goes double for you, cock-bite," Gojyo snarled in response. "Don't even think I'm gonna come looking for you if you get caught."

Hakuryuu keened softly when the red-head came abreast of it, and he lightly stroked a finger along the dragon's flank. It leaned into the touch, arching its long neck like a cat, its ruby eyes reflecting the meager moonlight that made it through the canopy. This little dragon was probably his only way of locating Hakkai in this mess. There was a link between the two, no doubt about that; Gojyo didn't know if the beast was tracking his friend by scent or by some kind of mental tracing device, but as long as it brought him to Hakkai's side, he didn't really care.

Sanzo didn't have that luxury. How he was expecting to find Goku was beyond the half-demon at this point.

"Think that stuffed-up priest can find his monkey?" he murmured, scratching the dragon beneath its chin. It only blinked lazily at him and rustled its wings.

Maybe he shouldn't be so critical. Had the situation been reversed, had it been Goku looking for Sanzo, Gojyo knew that the runt would have homed in on the priest like a dog on a bone, regardless of where in the forest he might have been hiding. They had a weird bond like that. When something had happened to the other, they knew, just like that. Sanzo had known exactly where to look when Homura had gotten his hands on Goku, known exactly where the kid had been hiding. Goku's presence had completely eluded Hakkai and Gojyo's senses, but the priest just knew. The opposite was true as well.

In some ways it was too damn creepy. In other ways, it seemed entirely natural. It was yet another thing that caused a spark of anger – and yes, perhaps jealousy – in Gojyo. He had no clue where Hakkai was, couldn't help him, couldn't find him, and yet Sanzo had no visible doubts that he could do all of the above for Goku. Had just turned around and stalked out into the woods without a backwards glance, as if he had known exactly where to go.

"Damnit," he whispered. Even the dragon knew more than he did at this point. He was feeling more and more useless by the minute.

Hakuryuu cooed quietly and rubbed its head against Gojyo's wrist. The red-head only sighed and patted the dragon one last time before dropping his hand away.

The only thing I know for certain is what nightmare I'm going to walk into when I find Hakkai. And I have no idea if I'm going to be able to pull him out of a dream like that. Even now, even dead, Kanan has an incredible hold on him. He might prefer dying to waking up.

Gojyo didn't know what he would do if it came to that.

"Lead on," he said, and the gentle creature fluttered its wings and continued leading the way. He had no choice but to follow.

---

A/N: Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I received seven reviews in a little over 24 hours, and that's the most I've ever gotten in such a short amount of time on one story! I love you all so much!

Yest: You really think mine is that good? You flatter me! Personally, I think D-chan beats me soundly by a mile, but I'm so glad I've made it to the top of your lists!

Eat a Peach: I've always thought that the interaction between Sanzo and Gojyo was an interesting one – the way they seem to hate each other and yet support and respect each other at the same time. I hope I've managed to keep that attitude in this chapter as well.

Blades of Ice: Don't feel bad if you thought you missed the story – I had only just put up those four chapters the night you read and reviewed it. S'all good. :)! I hope this update meets your satisfaction!

keistje: You are my love-child! Thank you so much for leaving all those reviews! I angsted over all the scenes to make sure I had the characters as close to IC as I could, and I'm glad I managed to do it well! I had originally left out the lines that involved Goku pulling Sanzo out of his nightmare, but it does feel better with that part in there, don't you think? Goku pulled him out of the trap with the demonic armor, so it felt only right that he could do so in other situations, even if he's not consciously aware of what he's doing. Hakkai's interaction with kudzu was tough at first, because I had no idea what kudzu looked like. Did you know that it's literally eaten half of the southern United States? I live too far south in Florida to have seen it, but since I've started this fiction I've wanted sooo bad to take a trip up north to find out what it's like. The pictures you can find on the net are amazing! I've got about three or four chapters left to this story, but I'm afraid there'll be no pairings. Well, not the kind that you can see without blinking – I wanted to keep it as close to Minekura's style as possible, with only hints of the traditional Gojyo/Hakkai and Sanzo/Goku pairings. It's more fun to skirt around their emotions without stating full on what those emotions mean. Hope you enjoy this chapter!