"Ken?" Aya repeated advancing towards him. The brunette was hunched over, gripping the edge of the countertop. The scent of blood permeated the air. Something wasn't right.

Still Ken did not move. He didn't even turn his head.

Aya moved closer to him, his pulse rushing, his head swimming. What's wrong with him? He must be hurt and badly. Or is it just his victims' blood? How long has he been standing down here?

"Ken what's wrong with you?" he asked in relative monotone, contrary to his inner desperate concern. He took another step closer.

"Nothing," Ken replied weakly.

"That's not true," Aya declared reaching out to touch him. "Here let me see-"

"I said nothing Aya!" Ken cried, face and voice laced with pain as he half-spun about and pushed the taller boy away from him.

Aya caught glimpse of the hand which thrust him back. It was swollen red and already bruising black and blue. And he feared it may be broken.

He grabbed hold of Ken's wrist, impulse overriding discretion, and the boy tried to pull away. He writhed about, screaming for Aya to let go of him, and Aya, not wanting to further injure the already wounded hand, wrapped his free arm tightly around Ken's waist from behind to restrain him.

"Aya stop it, let go of me!" Ken continued to protest, though much more feebly than before.

Ignoring him, Aya gingerly began prodding the injured knuckle with his fingers, feeling each bone, scrutinizing every joint.

"What- what are you doing?" Ken asked, now calm.

"Making sure your hand isn't broken," Aya replied. He turned Ken about to face him, gently bracing the wrist of the hand in question while continuing to probe. He was too preoccupied to notice the blood now on his arm.

"It isn't," he said finally, stopping. "But it needs to be iced. You're going to have a nasty bruise." He raised his eyes to meet Ken's. They were glassy, slightly glazed over. His face was nearly completely devoid of color. He looked seriously ill.

It was then that Aya recalled the the fervent and all too familiar scent. And saw the blood tainting the inside of his arm. The arm that had recently restrained Ken. His eyes darted to the boy's chest and the source was painfully evident: a fine, deep gash from shoulder to hip bone that would have been entirely indiscernible from the vast splotches of liquid red if not for the ripped, blood-soaked tee-shirt framing it.

"My God Ken, what happened to you?" Aya asked momentarily stunned.

"It's nothing Aya, just a little scratch," Ken replied voice quavering slightly. "I'm fine really."

"No you're not," Aya retorted. He knelt down and opened the door of the cabinet beside the stove, grabbing a dishtowel and thrusting it under the running water. That wound needs to be cleaned. God knows how long it's been exposed. He'll have a scar for sure and be lucky if it isn't infected.

"No really Aya," Ken began, attempting to walk over to him.

"Take your shirt off," Aya commanded.

"No. Really, just go up to bed. Give me the towel, I'll be fine," Ken continued. He extended a hand.

"Ken take your shirt off now so I can clean that cut off. It could get infected you know."

"Yes yes, but if you'd just give me the towel and leave me alone I'll take care of all that."

Aya closed the gap between the pair, inadvertently pinning Ken against the island, and, grabbing hold of its cotton edges, attempted to remove his shredded tee-shirt.

Ken fought. "Aya stop it! Leave me alone! I'm fine dammit! I can . . . can . . . take care . . . of . . ." His voiced weakened and trailed off as his muscles gave out and he fell limply forward into Aya's arms.

Aya wanted to panic but knew panicking would only make matters worse. So mentally battling to maintain composure he lowered the at least still semiconscious Ken to the floor and propped his back up against the island. Then, deciding that it would be much easier to clean and dress the wound if he could see properly, Aya stood and flicked turned on the lights.

Returning to Ken, he almost tripped over his jacket which lay discarded on the tiles, lining exposed. It was drenched.

How much blood has he lost? Aya wondered frantically. He rushed back to Ken's side and, after helping him out of his shredded tee-shirt, shifted the boy onto his back and immediately began applying pressure to the open cut. "Ken, what happened to you?" he asked with obvious concern. Really he just hoped the injured assassin would reply at all, thus confirming that he was still aware of activity around him.

"It's . . . no big deal. I got attacked. That's . . . all . . ." Ken replied rather distantly, seemingly trying to fix his eyes on Aya.

What the hell am I thinking? He shouldn't be expending energy talking! Aya scolded mentally. "It's all right, don't try to talk. Just relax, you're going to be fine."

"I know . . . yes . . . fine. I'll be okay . . . Just go . . . I can take care . . . of myself," Ken managed, with great difficulty.

Is he crazy? He barely talk, let alone stand up to get bandages to dress his wound! "Were you planning on just not telling anyone about this and letting yourself bleed to death?" Aya near demanded.

"No," Ken protested. "No. It's not like . . . that. I really . . . can . . . handle this."

"Shh. Don't talk," Aya commanded, tone softening. I shouldn't have yelled at him. But honestly what was he thinking? He removed the towel and looked over the wound beneath it. The cut really wasn't as bad as he'd feared, though it wasn't simply a little scratch as Ken had claimed. It seemed that the bleeding had mostly subsided. He took a clean cloth from the cabinet and turned the faucet on again. While holding the towel beneath the running water, he grabbed the bottle of disinfecting soap from beside the sink and squeezed some of its contents onto the impromptu washcloth. Satisfied, he turned the water off and wrung the towel once so that it was not dripping wet and returned to Ken to finish cleaning his wound.

"Ouch!" Ken cried as Aya applied the soapy towel. "Ow, ow, stop it! That hurts!"

"Ken stop being immature. I have to clean your cut or it will get infected," Aya declared, easily continuing his tending despite Ken's efforts to avoid his touch.

They were silent for a moment. Ken stayed still and Aya finished cleaning his cut. The redhead sat back on his heals.

"There," he said, "it's clean now. Just stay here and rest. I need to go upstairs and get some bandages." He proceeded to the freezer, opened it and took out an ice pack which he handed to Ken. "Put this on your hand until I get back." He then turned to go.

"Why Aya?"

Aya stopped and looked back, confused.

"Why did you have to show up? Why did you have to take care of me?" Ken asked. He managed to sit upright, back against the island.

"What do you mean? Did you expect me to just leave you alone when I found you in here near unconscious from blood loss?"

"No. That's not what I said," Ken asserted albeit to much less effect than he had likely intended. He shifted a bit and Aya feared he may try to stand.

"Lie still," Aya commanded. He's lost so much blood, he doesn't have the strength to stand. But he needs to start replenishing it or he'll faint. He opened the refrigerator and, briefly scanning its contents, discovered several ten ounce bottles of orange juice and grabbed one. Kneeling down, he twisted free the plastic cap. "Here, drink this." He thrust his arm out offering the juice to Ken. "I'll get you something to eat too. It'll help you regain some strength." He went to the dry-food cupboard in search of something.

Something sweet. His blood sugar could be low which would contribute to his faintness. And with raisins would be good. Lots of iron. But much as he tried to concentrate and act calmly, his heart still pounded and mind reminded him pressingly that Ken's wounds still needed binding. Hastily he grabbed a just-opened package of cookies he couldn't be bothered to determine type of, half threw them at Ken charged up the stairs to the closest bathroom to retrieve a first-aid kit.

God I hope I'm doing the right thing. Maybe he needs stitches. Maybe I should've just tried to stop the bleeding and taken him to the hospital. Maybe I should've contacted Kritiker right away, they must have plenty of doctors on standby.

Now rapidly meeting all qualifications for a mental status of panic, Aya barely managed to grip the handle of the briefcase style first-aid kit for nervous trembling. Having successfully obtained the desired item, he near literally flew down the stairs almost slipping as he did so. So much for the collected leader. Upon reaching the kitchen, he again dropped to his knees beside Ken who was taking halfhearted swigs from the open bottle of orange juice.

"Okay," Aya said, half to himself. I know what I'm doing. I can handle this. "Bandages, bandages, something." He released the latch on the plastic case and easily found what he was looking for. He took the role of white cloth and promptly, though cautiously, set to wrapping it about Ken's injured torso.

It should be enough for now. He should go to the doctor anyway, just in case.

"How are feeling Ken?" he asked. The brunette's body felt heavy and Aya thought he may have fainted.

"Not awful."

Good. He's still conscious. "Good. Once I've finished with your bandages I'll take you to go lie down until I can contact Kritiker and get you a doctor."

"Aya I really don't think-"

"Ken, it's just a precaution," Aya interjected, though not harshly. "I think you'll be okay." Closer to his usual state of composure, the redhead now sincerely meant what he said. After all, Ken was still awake and protesting.

When he'd finished with the bindings, Aya did as he had promised and guided his injured friend over to the couch in the small room behind the flower shop. Not the ideal resting location he knew, but the closest and he was not risking the stairs. As it was en route Ken stumbled and wound up in the redhead's arms until he regained enough control over his limbs to complete the trek on legs like a newborn lamb's. He quite literally fell onto the couch and with immense effort, turned over and swung his legs about so he lay comfortably, back propped up against a plush grey arm.

Aya stood beside him utterly still and silent. Missing Ken, missing his body in his arms, missing feeling him tremble softly as he held him. He sat on the edge of the couch and wondered at the cause of the trembling. Just faintness, blood loss probably. But could it be me? Is he nervous with me?

Body desperate for contact again, Aya gingerly took Ken's injured hand and lifted it close to his own face as if for examination. "Do you want me to get the ice for your hand?" he asked. "It's still on the floor in the kitchen."

"Uhh...no...I mean, I think I'm okay," Ken replied. He was blushing.

He's at least getting some color back in his face, that's a good sign. "Are you sure? It's no big deal."

"Um...sure, I-I guess." Now stammering.

On impulse Aya brought the hand to his lips and kissed it, softly, chastely. Ken did not pull away, and Aya almost felt as though he drew a fraction closer to him. But then he realized what he was doing and had to fight the urge to bolt upright in surprise and perhaps a little embarrassment. He succeeded and slowly raised his head.

"A-Aya," Ken said once their eyes met. His cheeks were thoroughly scarlet. "Um... why...why did...you have to be awake?"

"What?" Aya asked bewildered. The question bore no semblance to any he had expected he might receive.

"I mean, why couldn't you have been asleep, like everyone else? Why couldn't you have just left me to take care of myself?" Ken continued.

"Ken it's a good thing I was awake! I mean I think you might have survived until morning, considering the relatively good shape you're in now, but you likely would have been in critical condition."

"But I wanted to take care of myself!" Ken exclaimed. His voice quavered and he looked like he might cry.

"But Ken you couldn't have! You were in no condition to be doing anything that required any degree of concentration or even miniscule physical exertion. Even now you would have struggled!" Aya remarked, struggling not resort to scolding tones.

Ken was silent for a moment. "I know." He hung his head over defeatedly. "I know. I can't do anything for myself."

"Now that's not tru-"

"And it would have to be you, wouldn't it?" Ken continued, cutting him off. "Of course. I can't do anything without you." He laughed wistfully. "I literally can't live without you."

Aya was speechless. A despairingly likely truth was suddenly apparent to him. Damn. This is all my fault. I keep him at arms' length to protect myself. So I don't get emotionally attached. Except when my body gets the best of me and I rush to protect him. Or touch him. Kiss him. "Ken, I-" but he could think of nothing say. More truthfully couldn't think of where or how to begin. God, how I must have confused him!

"Aya," Ken said weakly, looking up at him again, "why did you come back? I know, you're sister, she's gone and you need to find her. But you left again and then came back when Botan died. You could have found her on you own, I know you could have."

"Maybe," Aya agreed. "And yes, she is why I came back. Or at least why I thought I came back originally." Botan...thank God for you. "But Botan set me straight. Of course I still want to find her. I need to find her and I do think it's remotely possible I could have found her on my own. She isn't why I came back."

"She isn't?" Ken asked incredulously.

"No. And, thanks to Botan, I know that now." He was right. I can't go on fighting selfishly as I was before. Especially when I know I care so much. But it will be difficult. I've put up so many walls, and they weren't made to be broken. Unfortunately knowing isn't the same as doing.

"Then...why?"

"I came back for Omi and Yohji because I realized that they need me. And for you." Especially you. I could hardly stand not knowing how you were. Much as I tried to put you out of my thoughts. "Because we all need each other. As Weiss we rely on one another and work as one." And I need you. I can't say it, can hardly admit it to myself, but I know it's true.

"So, you came back because we need you to lead us. Because you want us to be the best assassins we can." Once again, Ken dropped his head.

Aya leaned over and placed a long white finger under the boy's chin, tilting his head upward. "No," he declared. "Because we need each other as people. Because we're all each other has." Because I think I love you.

And because he was never good at articulating emotions, Aya wrapped his arms around Ken's shoulders, sealed the small space between their faces and kissed him. This time tenderly. This time gently. This time out of love completely untainted by even the tiniest shred of lust.

When Aya broke the kiss he sat back upright and Ken collapsed against him, ear resting against the taller boy's chest. He clung to him. "Oh Aya I was so afraid I was never going to see you again," he breathed and Aya thought he sounded close to tears. "I thought you'd never come back."

"I couldn't do that," Aya assured drawing him closer. "I was stupid for ever leaving again. I was stupid for making us disband in the first place."

"No, no we all agreed to that. That wasn't your fault."

But so many other things were. I guess I was too stubborn to realize the effect I had on the people around me. Especially him.

"It doesn't matter now anyway. You're here. We're all together again," Ken continued.

And you and I. We're together. "Yes," Aya agreed. "Everything is going to work out." Somehow. I hope.

He held Ken tightly and kissed the top of his head. No need to trouble him with his own apprehensions. It must have been at least four a.m. already. Only three hours until shop opening. He'll be okay until then at least. May as well let him sleep now. He shifted their positions so that he lay back on the couch and Ken lay, head resting beneath his chin, in his arms.

Ken please forgive me for all the torture I've put you through. I can't guarantee there won't be any more. If I could then I could tell you all this. But I'll try. I'll try to let my emotions show and prove I that I do sincerely care. For Omi, for Yohji, and most of all you. Because much as you may think you can't live without me, I know that I cannot live physically or emotionally without you.

They fell asleep together. And, for that brief moment in time, there was unity and there was understanding and there was peace. And most of all happiness, in the present and on the horizon. At least until morning.