A/N: Woohoo, I'm on a roll here, folks!
No trigger warning this chapter, but heavy on the angst again.
That night, after tucking his kids into their temporary beds, Yusuke stood in the kitchen, cordless phone cradled precariously between his shoulder and ear. He didn't trust it in his hands; they were clenched tight against his sides already, not even ten minutes into this conversation.
"He's fine without it," he insisted to Keiko, who was on the other end of the line, upset that she'd forgotten to pack their younger child's favorite stuffed toy. "Hasn't even noticed he doesn't have it. He's been kinda obsessed with Kurama, and having a new backyard to run around."
That was the truth, too. The more boisterious of his two sons had spent the day near about constantly glued to Kurama's side, happily chatting about school and his friends and his long journey from home to here with Kuwabara. He'd even managed to drag him outside to the garden, to show him his training routine. The fox put up with it, though Yusuke could tell he preferred the unassuming presence of Kenji, serious and surprisingly stoic for a nine year old child. Maybe he reminded him of Hiei, a little.
Keiko snatched him away from his thoughts when she said, scornfully, "I wish they didn't have to see him like that. They're too young." To her credit, she tried to keep the accusation from her voice, but he heard it anyway: You brought them there.
"There isn't any choice, you know that. I have to be here, Keiko, and I'm not gonna leave them behind, either." Not when things between the two of them were so uncertain.
"It isn't your job to save everyone."
Her words, barbed with bitter poison, caught him off guard.
"What," he snarled, anger flaring up inside him of like a greasefire, "you'd rather I leave him alone out here to die? Is that really what you're saying to me right now?"
Her end of the line went quiet for a touch too long. He thought maybe she'd hung up, but eventually, with a tiredness that was palpable, she replied, "no, of course not. I want him to get better just as much as you do. But Yusuke..."
He grunted inquisitvely. Better not to speak, when the words in his mouth felt like knives.
"We're already in a mess, you and I. I just worry, about the boys." Keiko's tone had softened, laced with nostalgic concern. It reminded him of times before this shitshow, when things were good. "And I worry about you, too. This is a lot for anyone to handle, and I'm afraid of what it'll do to you. If...it doesn't work out."
If he couldn't help him, she meant. If Kurama fell into the grave anyway, who had one foot in already, no matter how strong a grip Yusuke had on him.
He'd considered that possibility of course - it sat like bricks in his stomach any time he thought about it. He wasn't sure how he'd take it, all things considered, or even if he could.
But still, Yusuke Urameshi wasn't the type to give up in the face of death. Especially not when it was his friend's life on the line. "It won't come to that," he told Keiko, with a fierceness that surprised both of them. "I won't let it."
She hummed at him, though he could tell it wasn't in agreement. Her faith in him had waned over the years, chipped away by broken promises and empty words. This wasn't one of them - but she had no way of knowing that for certain.
So they said their goodbyes, with not a hint from either of them about when they'd speak next. Better that way, he figured, since with no expectations he didn't need to feel guilty about not meeting them.
"Sounded rough," a gravelly voice intoned. Kuwabara, who Yusuke hadn't noticed during his phone call, hovered near the edge of the kitchen, not quite passed the line that separated the living room carpet from the wooden tile Yusuke stood on.
Running a hand through his hair after setting the receiver down on the counter, Yusuke let out a ragged sigh. 'Rough' didn't even cover half of it - he considered trying to downplay it (like blaming it on that stupid duck Keiko forgot to pack), but Kuwabara knew him way too well. So he gestured to the kitchen table and they both sat; Kuwabara with his arms crossed tight, Yusuke with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands again. "You sure he's asleep right now?"
The other man nodded, once. "Out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow. Snorin', too." Kuwabara sounded surprised about it.
It had surprised Yusuke as well; Kurama didn't seem like the type to snore, but he had every night so far during Yusuke's stay. Probably had something to do with the drinking - he knew a couple of people that only snored when drunk, most notably his mother and Chu.
Great, he brooded. Even after watching him like a fucking hawk all day, he still finds ways to drink.
"Keiko's worried he won't make it, and that he'll drag me down with him," Yusuke admitted aloud, words slightly muffled by his hands still on his face. He removed them only after rubbing at his eyes a little bit, long enough to let Kuwabara stew over the gravity of what he'd said.
When their gazes met, Yusuke could see Keiko's worry reflected in Kuwabara's dark eyes. "I dunno, Urameshi. This is pretty bad. I've never seen anyone sink this low before, and I've met a lot of sad people." He didn't need to say that Yusuke held a spot on that list, probably near the top as of late.
"He's a fucking drama queen," Yusuke joked with no humor, face feeling like carved stone.
"He's not though, don't even talk like that. You know how much he loved his mom, and he didn't even get the chance to try 'n save her. He's blamin' himself for somethin' he had no control over, and it's killin' him, so I don't wanna hear you even imply that this is his fault." It hurt a little, looking into the burning coals of Kuwabara's eyes as he spoke, but Yusuke found he couldn't look away. "I won't have it."
"Yeah, yeah," Yusuke sighed, "don't get your panties in a twist. I know it isn't his fault. I'm just tired." An understatement, to say the least.
His best friend's expression shifted, and suddenly he was sympathy personified. That hurt even more. "I understand, man. Wish I could do more for ya."
"I know you do, you big lug. But you're doing enough already, so don't worry about it."
Once Kuwabara left awhile later - after a bit of talk about Hiei, of all things, and some not-so-manly hugs that no one ever needed to know about - Yusuke made his way upstairs, ready to hit the hay for the night.
He didn't make it far, however.
As soon as he stepped into the hall after creeping up the stairs as softly as he could so as not to wake anyone, he heard a choked off sob coming from Kurama's room, the door to which was slightly ajar.
Fuck, he thought, a chill colder than any he could ever remember feeling before settling into his bones, I can't handle this tonight.
Probably he wouldn't know how to handle it ever, though a part of him had wanted this kind of break in Kurama since the beginning. Once he allowed himself to feel it, the true healing could begin. Yusuke had learned that for himself a few times over in the course of his life.
Too bad (and thank whatever god was listening) that the break wasn't as deep as he first thought. The fox wasn't even conscious. He learned that when he padded quietly into the room, and glimpsed a dark silhouette perched near the top edge of Kurama's bed, petting his hair. The moonlight pouring in from the window sparkled off the wetness on the redhead's face, but he didn't so much as sniffle again.
"How'd you get in?" Yusuke didn't even have the energy to sound surprised to see Hiei in here, comforting the fox in any way he could. He did keep his voice low, though as drunk as Yusuke figured Kurama was, it couldn't be too easy to wake him up.
"Your boy," Hiei answered, softer yet. "He heard him crying out in his sleep and summoned me. Let me in through his window."
"Kenji?" No way Kai was calm enough to pull this off without Yusuke noticing. Kid would've been bouncing off the walls.
"Yes. Smart for his age, and quiet, too." In the pale moonglow, Hiei's crimson eyes glowed like an animal's when they flashed his way. "Are you sure he's yours?"
Despite knowing better, Yusuke snorted. "Ha ha, very funny." A flash of teeth winked at him this time; a rare smile, which Yusuke felt no small amount of honor about receiving. "You're right, though, he is smart. But I'm wondering how he knew to call for you when I never even mentioned you were around."
"We spoke this morning."
Ah, so when Kuwabara and Kenji had been outside training before breakfast. The big idiot hadn't mentioned that.
"I heard what you said," Hiei mentioned abruptly, his hand stilling in Kurama's hair.
"Said a lot of things today; normal people do that, you know."
Now it was Hiei's turn to feign a laugh. A shame, really, when back in the day they used to share real ones; not often, but every once in a blue moon when they actually spent time together. It'd been years since he heard the sound of Hiei's real, genuine laughter. He found suddenly that he missed it.
"What your w..." Hiei uncharacteristically trailed off, though not from lack of attention. As soon as he'd spoken, Yusuke's eyes were on him, watching his normally impassive face twitch with unidentifiable emotion. "What Keiko said, I suppose I should clarify. Which you repeated to Kuwabara. About dragging you down with him."
Yusuke's breath blew out of him like a bullet from the barrel of a gun.
"Don't let it happen, Yusuke." It was a demand, certainly not a request, and a fierce one at that - sharp, like Hiei's sword, right against his neck.
Swallowing hard, struggling to breathe, he shook his head. "I'm not gonna let him - "
"No," Hiei interjected, "that isn't what I mean. I know that you'll protect him at all costs, no matter the toll it takes from you."
Yusuke frowned, well and truly puzzled. "Then what are you talking about?"
"Just what I said. Don't let him drag you down with him." Hiei had resumed stroking Kurama's hair at some point; Yusuke noticed when he followed the demon's gaze and landed on the redhead's sleeping face, still damp from tears. "He is cunning, even the way he is now. He will not hesitate to trick you, even manipulate you, depending on how set he is in what he wants."
"You're saying - "
"I'm saying that if he doesn't want to be saved, there will be no saving him."
The room spun around him; Yusuke felt faint, or like he was going to be sick, or like he would do both - like Kurama had, his first day here. "Why are you telling me this." Not a question, because he knew.
He knew before Hiei untangled his fingers from the fox's mane and moved from the bed. Before he walked over to Yusuke and stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Before his lips parted, and a soft hiss of air escaped - hestiation, then, because even though both of them knew what he wanted to say, it wasn't so easy to do it out loud.
A hand, as warm as a summer's day, brushed his arm for the smallest of moments; a ghost of a touch. "When he dies, Yusuke, you can't blame yourself. You'll only end up the same way."
Then Hiei disappeared from sight, leaving him cold again, with only the sleeping form of a man everyone already considered dead.