Title: Worth It
Universe: XXXHolic
Theme/Topic: The Best Medicine
Rating: PG-13
Character/Pairing/s: hints of DoumekixWatanuki, but nothing concrete. Yuuko in spirit.
Warnings/Spoilers: None I can imagine.
Word Count: 1,455
Summary: Nothing comes for free.
Dedication: meme drabble request for cheloya!
A/N: Silliness and speed writing me r dumb. But I really do enjoy writing these two. They're so cute and retarded. Or at least, Watanuki is. XD
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.

He'd never been a clumsy kid so it was hard to explain to his family just why he had those bandages on his arm, or why there was a bottle of painkillers with the leaf symbol from the drug store down the street resting on top of his nightstand for easy access. He'd never been a troublemaker either, so it was a little bit difficult to explain why there was a scar or two (or six) striping in crisscrosses down his back that didn't look like they were from any of the kinds of things that resulted from the normal everyday scrapes that high school boys sometimes got into. And he wasn't particularly weak either, had never been, which made it a bit difficult sometimes, for his family to believe him when he told them why there were scratches and blisters all over his hands, hands that by now, should have been calloused enough not to develop little irritations like that (from any normal activity anyway).

When they asked him about the injuries he didn't lie though, simply shrugged and said, "My fault. Watanuki's fault. Mostly Watanuki's fault, but my fault too."

They told him to be careful and didn't press too much, because despite the injuries he was getting he seemed happier lately too. And so long as he didn't get hurt badly all they wanted in the world was for Shizuka to be happy.

They were glad he'd made a good friend, in any case.

"Ouch."

"It doesn't hurt! Your face is completely blank, how can you even say "ouch" like that and mean it? You're just saying it to annoy me, aren't you? You want me to feel bad."

"It hurts," Doumeki finished, ignoring the other boy's frantic, guilt-laden cries as he dabbed Shizuka's latest wound with a cotton swab doused in antiseptic.

"It doesn't hurt!" Watanuki reiterated. "Normally when something hurts people make a face that says it hurts! You're just saying it hurts."

Pause.

Silence.

"T-there. See? I told you it didn't hurt," Watanuki finished weakly, when Doumeki didn't say anything snarky in response. He looked absolutely horrible as he treated his friend's wounds and tried his very best not to sound guilt-ridden about the whole thing.

"My head hurts more than the cuts now, thanks," Doumeki put in then, because it seemed like the thing to do.

For a moment, the guilt melted away and Watanuki glared. "Very funny! You're making too many jokes to actually be in pain, and that's how I know you're a big stupid liar for sure now."

"So earlier you were just speculating."

"Yes!" Pause. "NO! Earlier I was right too! What kind of person says "ouch" and means it when they have an expression like this?"

He wiped all emotion from his face in what was supposed to be an impression of Doumeki.

Doumeki blinked. "Just because people don't scream like you doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

Watanuki glared. "Yeah well, no one just says it like a robot and means it either!" he declared confidently, and dabbed a little harder at Doumeki's cut than he'd meant to.

"Ouch."

"Stop that." Pause. Sigh. "Sorry."

The smaller boy slumped ever so slightly and went back to concentrating on Doumeki's injuries—two talon-like slashes down Doumeki's right shoulder, trailing off just above the archer's collarbone.

It was quiet for a bit after that, and Doumeki watched Watanuki's eyebrows knit as he took in the full extent of the injuries, the blood all over Shizuka's ruined shirt and the stain on the front of Watanuki's uniform from when he'd used the jacket to try and stem the bleeding earlier. It wasn't as bad as it looked as far as Doumeki could tell, but then again, he'd never been a doctor. Yuuko hadn't looked particularly worried when she'd seen them after the mission-accomplished debriefing though, so Doumeki let that tell him that he'd be fine to do her bidding again in the future.

It didn't stop Watanuki from looking like a kicked puppy though. And he wasn't even bleeding anywhere.

Doumeki sighed.

"Make it up to me," he said after a bit, when he got sick and tired of looking at Watanuki's eyes and all the apology they held despite it not being entirely his fault. Doumeki had pushed the idiot out of the way because he'd wanted to, after all.

The words threw Watanuki off for a minute. "What?" he asked, blinking as he was stirred from his intense focus on bandaging Doumeki up.

"If you're really sorry, make it up to me," Doumeki repeated, simply.

Watanuki turned his eyes sideways then, down towards the ground. Self-loathing never really looked good on him, to Doumeki at least. "I… this isn't the kind of thing I can just make up is it?" he began, voice low. "You shouldn't be dragged into everything I am just because…"

"Sandwiches," Doumeki said, unaffected by the self-pity fest and not really wanting to listen to it since he'd already gotten a headache earlier, with all the yelling.

Not expecting to be interrupted at that kind of moment-where-he-was-going-to-pour-his-heart-out, Watanuki paused, blinked again. Stared. "What?"

"Sandwiches," Doumeki repeated (he was used to this sort of redundant conversation with Watanuki by now, he supposed). "Tomorrow. Sandwiches. With egg and cucumber. Maybe one with ham and cheese and tomato. I like chicken salad too. Maybe turkey and bacon."

"ISN'T THAT TOO MUCH!" Watanuki shouted back, on instinct.

"Tomorrow make all those things," Doumeki told him. "I'll eat them all."

They stared at each other.

Watanuki looked away first, muttering to himself. "You don't eat like a human being."

As good as a promise.

Doumeki grinned. "I'll tell my mom not to pack me anything tomorrow."

"Fine," Watanuki grumped, and finished bandaging Doumeki up, complaining the whole time about still having to go out to the store before they closed tonight to get stuff for sandwiches.

"And Jasmine tea," Doumeki added after he was patched up. "Hot."

"I hate you," Watanuki growled, but let Doumeki walk him to the store anyway.

Doumeki was never a clumsy kid growing up, was never a troublemaker as far as he could help it, did his best not to be weak.

And along with all that, he'd never been particularly sad either, but then again, no one could say he'd ever been particularly happy at the same time. "He just is!" his grandfather had said once, laughing at Shizuka's parents when they'd confessed worry on the issue.

"He's too young! You have to let him grow into things, after all," jii-san had told them, wisely. "Grow to be clumsy or grow to be a troublemaker or grow to be strong, grow to be happy. These things have to be earned, after all, ne?"

And then he'd reached out, ruffled his grandson's hair. "Nothing comes for free, right Shizuka?"

Doumeki hadn't answered back then, but he knew more about these types of things now, he supposed. At least enough that he would know to agree with his grandfather right away if the question ever came up again.

So tomorrow he'd explain the cuts on his shoulder to his parents like he always did-- truthfully. And then he'd go to school and eat sandwiches with Jasmine tea at lunch, probably end up eating half of Watanuki's own lunch too. Then he'd sit out club activities afterwards because he probably couldn't shoot without opening his cuts again, would instead, take the opportunity to walk Watanuki to Yuuko's and then go help out at the shrine until it was time to pick Watanuki up (or he got another call from Yuuko telling him to head to such and such a place at such and such a time).

And his family would look at him and think maybe there was something different about him. They wouldn't think that he was clumsy suddenly, or that he'd become a troublemaker since he met Watanuki, wouldn't believe that he'd suddenly become weak when he'd never been before.

Nothing like that.

But they might think that maybe, maybe Shizuka was happy all of a sudden, that without their knowing he'd somehow earned it, grown into it, paid a price for it.

His shoulder ached as he and Watanuki walked to the store side-by-side, and the "ouch" he whispered quietly to himself wasn't so much a cry of pain so much as some sort of acknowledgement to himself that nothing came for free.

Beside him, Watanuki complained about how difficult it was to find good tomatoes at the store this late—after all the housewives had already bought all the good ones—and paid Doumeki no mind.

Doumeki's shoulder hurt a little and he thought that maybe he was happy.

END