Final chapter! This one's a bit odd a doosie.

This one's a bit long, I know, but I wanted to make up for the last chapter being a bit short.

By the way, as you probably already have figured out, I am not participating in SinJa Week this year. Perhaps I'll participate Next year, but not this time.

I know a lot of you will be upset that this chapter isn't focused on Ja'far, but I figured that the last two chapters kinda focused on Ja'far, so let this one focus on Sinbad.

Also, I know you guys might be mad that Judar doesn't get what's coming to him, but maybe if I feel like it I'll write up a little extra where Judar gets what's coming to him.

You'll see a bit of different things, but nothing explicit.

As usual, I do not own Magi, but I do own the story.

BTW, yes, I will most likely write a few different things here and there to go along with this story, and also yes, Sinbad will probably do a lot of things he'll regret like listening to the voice in more than a few of those.


If Ja'far was honest, between the two weeks he'd had, the second week was harder on him. The first week was tough, sure, what with having to hear what everyone thought about him since they thought he wouldn't hear, but he had still been able to hear Sinbad's words loud and clear, and they were there to comfort him and keep him from the monsters that were himself and his memories. He could still know what he was saying, and he could still tell it was Sinbad who was holding him by the voice of his love.

But now, with his past week with no hearing and no sight, he couldn't do anything to tell who it was other than to rely on his last two senses he could use. Touch and smell. He could tell the scent of his love from a mile away, the various perfumes and flowers mixed with pure sandalwood and the saltiness of the sea creating a specific aroma to Sinbad that Ja'far used to tell where he was in the room, as Sinbad never, ever, left Ja'far alone anymore. Not even to bathe or go to the bathroom. Sinbad was afraid that someone would take advantage of Ja'far's weakness if he wasn't there to protect him. They had used something that they had learned a long time ago to communicate called Tactile Signing, where Sinbad would take Ja'far's hand and place it so his hand was above it, and he would place his finger on Ja'far's palm and trace out different things to say different things to Ja'far, and Ja'far would respond accordingly with speech.

Well, the fact that Sinbad got to hold Ja'far's hand in public instead of just keeping him close didn't hurt.

For Ja'far, he was sure that Sinbad took far too much pleasure in Ja'far's embarrassment, especially since he couldn't hear anything embarrassing Sinbad said about Ja'far.

"Sin…" Ja'far mumbled one night, one of the rare times when Sinbad and Ja'far were alone. Ja'far had taken to keeping his eyes closed the past week, since he already couldn't see, what would be the point in keeping them open and scaring everyone? He knew so many people found him odd already, so why not give them a reason to.

Sinbad hummed in response, his chest rumbling with it as he was pressed up against Ja'far from behind. He held pale, fragile hands in his own, and signed onto Ja'far's hand 'Yes', so as to guarantee Ja'far's response.

"Love you…" Whispered the pale man, his voice scratchy with insecurity. Ja'far didn't even know what he was saying, but he had been thinking how much he loved Sinbad at that very moment and he had opened his mouth. He could feel Sinbad tracing a heart on his palm, showing his affection.

Maybe he should indulge Sinbad. He knew that because he never let Ja'far out of his sight now, he hadn't been able to satisfy himself. Sinbad was a man of many sexual urges, and even if Ja'far rarely had those needs he couldn't get rid of by self-control, he did indulge Sinbad more often than he should. He hated to let Sinbad have his way normally, but he'd always had a weakness when it came to his king. He shifted slightly, the knowledge that Sinbad hadn't been able to do anything somehow making perverted thoughts come into his head. He tried to calm himself down, thinking that Sinbad probably had been restraining himself from doing anything to Ja'far to avoid bringing up some… Bad memories. Even at that thought, his body shook as a reaction to fear and Sinbad's hold on him tightened a fraction, and he sighed when he was turned around, his face buried in Sinbad's chest and he was held safely, securely. He so enjoyed being held like this and he hated to stop it, but he knew they both needed sleep and it wasn't the most comfortable position for Sinbad to sleep in, And as he felt the bad-ump, bad-ump, of Sinbad's heart, he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt so tired, and something was trying to force him to sleep, and he could feel the comfort and warmth of sleep lulling him in.

He felt so tired… So tired…

SNAP

Something in his magoi snapped, and he cried out in agony, shocking Sinbad as he let go of Ja'far, eyes wide as panic flooded through his veins at the sight in front of him. Ja'far's pale face was etched with shock, his blank, pale green eyes wide and brimming with tears. Somehow, those normally dead eyes showed so much pain and sorrow in them in that one moment than they ever had. His subordinate's body was shaking, blood vessels popping and causing rushes of blood to different places on Ja'far's body, causing him to bleed. He tried to cry out in pain, but he couldn't. His voice, his hearing, his sight, was gone. He felt something trickling down his face, but he was unsure whether or not it was tears. His body was in agony, the pure and utter pain enveloping his body as he convulsed in pain. His magoi was rapidly draining from his body and it felt like he was being torn in two from the inside out.

Sinbad's mind was racing, the pure energy pulsing from his advisor a dark power that was ominously gathering around Ja'far. What was going on? It wasn't like last time, when all that was there was the Rukh gathering around. This time, the pure danger was tearing Ja'far apart from the inside.

A flutter of rukh surged around them, a form in their place as Yunan appeared, having sensed a disturbance in the rukh. He didn't even address Sinbad as he immediately started casting spells on Ja'far, and something that made Sinbad tired.

The darkness started to cover his gaze, and a voice somewhere in the back of his mind telling him that Ja'far would be alright, he'd be fine, so he should just rest. The urge to was overwhelming, but he had to make sure Ja'far was alright. He had to… That stupid voice wouldn't shut up! He shook his head slightly, ignoring Yunan's presence and ignoring the slamming of the door by Yamraiha and Aladdin as they ran into the room as well and started working on the trembling form of Ja'far. His hearing was all fuzzy, and his sight was failing him. He just wanted to sleep. But he couldn't… Not yet…

"No…" He mumbled as he was forced into the darkness of sleep.


Yunan cursed under his breath, trying to help Ja'far's Magoi sort itself out. He had forced both Sinbad and Ja'far into sleep, and when Yamraiha and Aladdin burst through the door it wasn't easy to keep concentration. Manipulating rukh and magoi was already hard enough to do, but mixing it with healing magic to keep Ja'far's body from ripping itself in two? That was nearly impossible, even for magi. As the other two magicians helped him, he hoped silently that they'd be able to help. As they were somehow able to tell what was going on and started on casting the spell Yunan had taught them to calm the rukh and to forcefully change the black rukh to white. It was very complicated, yes, and had taken many hours of practicing, but it was worth it.

However, the spell used up so much magoi that even magi's couldn't keep it up for long without collapsing.

As was proven how, after only about ten minutes, Yamraiha had nearly collapsed. It was surprising how long she'd lasted up until then. Aladdin seemed to be doing… Alright, for the circumstances, though neither magi could go much longer, even with the massive amount of rukh giving them magoi.

How had this not woken people up?! Well, apparently story magic was stronger than anything common sense could come up with.

When Yamraiha collapsed, Aladdin had lost focus and tried to catch her, but was cut off by a scream from the asleep, bleeding form of Ja'far. His blue eyes widened with worry as this person who had been just like a mother to him during his stay was in agony, and tears began to form as he gripped the staff that he had been given by the people of Magnostadt, and focused on the spell once again, and Ja'far calmed down as the healing magic calmed him and dulled his nerves and cut him off from the pain of nearly being ripped in two, and he prayed that Titus would get there soon. On his way over with Yamraiha, they had sent an urgent message to Titus and Sphintus telling them that they were needed. Now.

And that was answered when they had arrived on their own in a short amount of time, as Yunan was about to lose focus from low energy. Titus' face was red, his exertion clear with having travelled so far in so little time. Sphintus snapped right into healer mode, but he knew his job wasn't even to work on Ja'far at this point.

His job was to keep the Magi's awake enough to get the job done.

And as Titus started casting the spell on the fragile form of Ja'far and Sphintus started healing Yunan and using spells to give him energy, they both wondered if this would all be in vein.


When the sun rose and people awoke, the first things Sinbad had noticed was that he was alone in the room and the sheets had been changed. How had the maids done that without waking him up? Wait, wasn't he forgetting something? He felt like he was… Wait… Ja'far! He remembered how horrible Ja'far had looked last night, and worry rose like bile in his throat as horrible, horrible thoughts of the worst consumed him. He jumped out of the bed and arranged himself for the day, remembering Ja'far's last lecture about being presentable at all times. No matter how worried he was, he wasn't going through that again. He shuddered at the mere thought, and he then remembered why he had even gotten up in the first place, and ran out of the room. He first checked Ja'far's room, and when he saw no one there, his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He rushed to the White Aries Tower, hoping to find Ja'far at a workdesk in perfect health, but to no avail. Finally, he checked the medical chambers, and asked one of the healers there if Ja'far was in any of the chambers, and relief and pure and utter dread washed over him at her confirmation that he was in one of the rooms, but was unable to receive any visitors due to his health being fragile and that they had guests from Reim as well in one of the other medical chambers, along with Aladdin, Yunan, and Yamraiha when he inquired who else was there.

He asked who the guests from Reim were, and he was more than a little surprised when he found out that it was Titus and Sphintus.

But why were they all here? He had asked about Ja'far's condition, again and again. But, again and again, he was answered with "I do not know", or "I am unable to disclose that information until General Yamraiha wakes up, Your Majesty."

If he didn't see Ja'far soon he was going to murder someone.

Namely, a certain dumbass magi who had messed with someone Sinbad cared about so very deeply. Oh how he could just imagine ripping Judar apart with his bare hands and then hurting him in every way he's ever hurt anybody ever before—

No, that's the black rukh talking.

Calm down Sinbad.

H-Hey- There's no need for those kinds of murderous thoughts or that aura—

Okie dokie shutting up now; Black rukh every once in a while is okay.

But only when they're pointed at Judar, understand? Good.

Sinbad sighed as the violent thoughts were suppressed, even if his want to maim Judar was still there. That wouldn't help Ja'far right now, but he was sure it would help him feel better once he had recovered slightly.

He sighed and went to the offices in White Aries, silently worrying over Ja'far and Yamraiha, along with the other guests in the medical wing. What had happened last night? He wished he knew, but for now, he had resigned himself to the fact that someone would come get him when Ja'far was able to receive visitors or any of the others awoke. He just wanted to rage quit and stomp in there and find Ja'far and everyone else because he's the king dammit but Solomon knows what kind of lecture he'd get for such childishness.

He sighed as he sat at his workdesk, knowing that if Ja'far were there, even if he couldn't see or hear, he'd know that he wasn't doing his work and he'd try and do it himself even though he couldn't see. So, with that in mind, he got to work purely to pass the time until someone went to get him.

However, his jumpy nerves didn't make for neat writing on the papers, and he couldn't focus on anything for more than three seconds before looking up at the door in hopes that someone was going to come get him to see Ja'far.

He was getting frustrated with waiting, and being alone wasn't freaking helping his situation. His mind was supplying him with the most gruesome of imaginings having to do with his advisor. What if…

No, he had to stay positive. Ja'far wouldn't die from this.

But he had had enough of waiting, so whether or not the healers were allowing people in to see Ja'far or not he was going to see him. He got up and opened the door, only to see one of the healers he had talked to about to knock on the door.

"Oh- Hello, Your Majesty." Said the healer, an awkward smile on his face as he looked up at the king. Sinbad smiled back, hiding his annoyance behind cheer. "Hello, to what do I owe the visit?"

"Uhm… General Yamraiha has woken up, and she's asked to have you brought to see her and General Ja'far…" And it was at these words that pure joy bubbled in Sinbad's chest at the thought of being able to see Ja'far again, so he nodded and told the healer to bring him to where they were.

He was so relieved that Yamraiha was up and about, because at least he knew she would tell him what had happened to Ja'far and the others. He was silent as the two walked, and when the healer showed Sinbad the room where Yamraiha and Ja'far were, he smiled and thanked them before going into the room, only for worry to immediately raise within him as he saw Yamraiha sitting on one of the settee's in the room, her face in her hands. She looked like a mess, her hair sticking up in odd places and her uniform wrinkled nearly obscenely.

"Yamraiha, what happened?" The witch jumped up at her name being called, her eyes tired with dark marks underneath them, along with tear tracks running down her cheeks.

"Y-Your Majesty… I-It's Ja'far… W-We tried everything we could…" She glanced at the curtain hiding the bed, one of the things in every medical resting room for just in case the injuries were severe. Sinbad hadn't even noticed that they were drawn, and he quickly went over to them and when he pulled them back, he could barely hold in his tears and anger within himself.

There in the bed lay Ja'far, skin a deathly gray, covered in bandages with blood seeping through the cloth, making it look like bright red flowers peeking through pure white snow. He had obviously been washed up, as there was no blood on his face, though Sinbad could imagine blood splattered across Ja'far's cheeks like the slightly discolored freckles despite being covered by bandages as well, and that was one part that Sinbad really hoped wouldn't scar. He knew Ja'far was already self-conscious about the scars he had, and he desperately tried to hide the one on his neck. If Ja'far got a scar of his face, Sinbad knew that he'd try and hide it as best he could, so he was silently glad that Ja'far had no sight. Though, a brief memory of a certain pale lilac-haired scatterbrain with a large scar across his nose. Man, was Vittel silly. Maybe, just maybe, if Ja'far did get his sight back and he got a new scar, he'd look a bit like Vittel. A sudden wave of sadness washed over Sinbad; Why was he thinking like that at a time like this? He glanced down at Ja'far's legs and a surge of concern crashed down onto him. The white blanket had been draped over his legs and hips, his torso exposed and even then, the blanket had spots of blood on it, small bright red bits peeking through the thick fabric. And that was what worried Sinbad most.

If Ja'far was bleeding this badly, how long would he have until he bled out?

"Yamraiha, explain the situation to me." He ordered, tearing his eyes away from the sight of his advisor and sitting down on one of the nearby chairs, and waited for Yamraiha to calm down enough to explain to him what had happened.

It took a few minutes of just letting Yamraiha calm down before she could even begin to tell him what had happened, but by Solomon, if there wasn't a lot to take in.

First off, when the fuck did Yunan teach Yamraiha, Titus, and Aladdin how to change Rukh's color by force?

Second, how did they do this without everyone knowing?

Third, oh, I don't know, WHY THE HELL DID THEY KEEP THE FACT THAT JA'FAR COULD DIE FROM THIS SPELL FROM HIM?!

"Yamraiha… Why did you not tell me this information before this happened?" Sinbad's tone was laced with rage, but oddly enough, not hostility. It had a gentle wave to it that reassured Yamraiha that even if Sinbad was angry, which was not a good thing, he wouldn't do anything that would put anyone in danger like he usually did, and that encouraged her to speak freely.

"Well… We didn't know if Judar had used multiple kinds of rukh on this spell, and when we had confirmed it, Ja'far had just lost his hearing, so you already had Ja'far's work on top of your own and a lot to stress over, and Yunan had decided it was best not to tell you. I had full intentions to tell you, Your Majesty, but I didn't want to put your health at risk like Ja'far constantly does with his own from too much stress." Even as she spoke, Sinbad felt his anger dip and rise like the slow movement of the ocean, but at the mention of Yunan it spiked into a typhoon of barely concealed rage.

"I see…" was all he said, but those two words conveyed so much to Yamraiha. She didn't need Ja'far's level of closeness to Sinbad to know that Sinbad was well and truly angry that Yunan had decided on his own that Sinbad need not be informed.

"How is Ja'far's condition, truly?" He asked next, and Yamraiha visibly relaxed. "It's mostly stable, and we've almost crossed the biggest issue with this spell due to last night's quick thinking on Yunan and Aladdin's parts. Almost all of the rukh used in this spell is now one kind, from what I can gather. However, it drained three Magi's of and me of almost all our magoi and energy and physical strength, but I was the least affected by it because I couldn't continue casting the spell as long as they could, so here I am. The rukh can't give them any more magoi until their energy and physical strength return, so they're all resting now. One of our other guests from Reim, Titus' lover, Sphintus I think his name is, is waiting in Titus' room if you'd like to talk with him about what occurred after I collapsed. His job was to make sure that until the job was done, Aladdin, Titus, and Yunan stayed awake. So he can tell you more about it than I can.

"However, when I looked over Ja'far's condition, they seemed to have mostly healed him to keep his body from ripping itself apart, so he won't die from this. He'll have a few new scars, but nothing too major. Although, one thing I asked Sphintus when I visited Titus to check his condition was if anything odd happened, and apparently, about halfway through the ordeal, Ja'far's voice cut out. He couldn't make a sound, which made everyone else's jobs a lot easier. But when I checked him over, his vocal chords seemed to be fine, if only a little damaged from how much noise he was making." Yamraiha sighed after her long explanation, slightly surprised that Sinbad had stayed silent during the whole thing.

"So now he's mute…?" Sinbad asked since his mind too fuzzy from the mix of everything to ask more than that as he glanced at the unmoving form of Ja'far's body on the bed.

"Yes, he is… And even though he has lost quite a bit of blood, he is going to be fine. Every hour on the hour a healer will come in to make sure of that."

"Good." He looked back at Ja'far and he felt himself become increasingly emotional as he remembered how injured and pained the freckled man was. "I hope he comes out of this alright…" He mumbled to himself, and Yamraiha seemed confused. What was wrong with King Sinbad? She understood that Ja'far's condition had been dire, and still is not an advantageous predicament, but she had faith in her healers to make sure he was okay, and would make it through this with minimal to no scarring. Some of the damage to his abdomen and navel and… Ahem… Near that area, would scar over, but it wouldn't be horrible compared to some of his other scars, which had been torn open again by his body trying to rip itself apart. Ja'far probably wouldn't be able to walk for a while, and she hadn't yet told him that they had to be careful when stitching his legs back together. It was impossible to stitch them properly, as that would only be able to further injure him. So, they had to stitch it together as they had been before to stop further damage to the muscle tissue. Whoever had done it previously had left the actual stitches in the body, so Ja'far's legs had been extremely fragile.

In fact, this was not even the first time they had had to re-stitch the General's legs. It was the third. However, in total, Ja'far's legs had been re-stitched around ten times in his life.

However, that was not relevant to the current situation. What was relevant, though, was telling Sinbad exactly what would come out of this epidemic.

"Your Majesty, I'm afraid there's a bit more to the situation…" She said, getting up and grabbing some bandages and wash cloths from the nearby table, and she brought them over to the bed as Sinbad responded.

"What is it now…?" He asked, groaning like a child. It wasn't unusual for the Dungeon Conqueror to act in such a manor, so it didn't really surprise the witch when he acted as such.

"First off, would you mind helping me? I need to change his bandages." Sinbad didn't say anything, but got up and went over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it as Yamraiha placed her supplies on the bedside table, and Sinbad gently, and carefully, picked up Ja'far's torso and felt him shift at the painful movement. It felt nice, being able to hold Ja'far like this, and he carefully, stealthily, placed his hands on one of Ja'far's wrists and felt the pule, the blood pumping through Ja'far's veins against his fingers a comforting feeling. Yamraiha started unwrapping the bandages, and she started to explain what Sinbad had needed to know as she did.

As Sinbad listened to her explanation, his emotions went wild inside his body. Even more scars? Sinbad didn't mind Ja'far's scars, as they were proof of how much he'd been through in his life. One odd thing he preferred was having his marks on Ja'far, slight bruises proving that Ja'far was his. Nothing that would really hurt Ja'far and things that would fade, but he never actually wanted to hurt Ja'far or give him more scars than he already had. And what made it worse was Judar had caused these, another man's mark upon Ja'far's body. He hated it.

Somewhere, a little voice in the back of his mind screamed Kill him! Kill Judar! Destroy him for marking what's yours… And the feral beast in him agreed with a purr at the thought of spilling Judar's blood for harming Ja'far like this. Oh how something dark inside him wanted to see the Magi begging for mercy under his hand, but something else inside him was telling him that, no, he couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to, it wouldn't do anything except put more blood upon his hands.

It would make him hurt like he hurt Ja'far The voice said, and the beast in him growled in agreement at making the Magi pay.

No! Ughhhh this was exhausting. Those two damn voices wouldn't shut up!

He was snapped out of his little mind problem when Yamraiha said something a little, uhm, interesting.

"He's going to also have a few scars… Ahm… Near that area…" Yamraiha blushed darkly as she finished re-bandaging Ja'far's torso and arms, along with select areas on his neck. Sinbad blushed slightly as well as he processed it, but he soon grew confused. "And how would you know this, Yamraiha?"

"Well, Your Majesty, one of the healers left a document with the injury report for me to look over when I awoke." She said, looking at him with eyes that shone with the truth. Sinbad glanced down at Ja'far and mumbled, "If his bandages need to be changed, wouldn't they need to be changed there too?" To which, Yamraiha sighed and nodded, arranging the rest of the bandages she had brought over on the bed and picking up the bloodied ones, and grabbed the blanket as well. "I know this is the maids' job, but I have some rounds to do, Your Majesty, so could you change those bandages? Apparently, even in his sleep, Ja'far could tell it was not you who was doing his bandages on his legs and hips and that area, so he wasn't the most cooperative to the healers. And, yes, the ones who changed his bandages were, in fact, male, before you ask." She said as she grabbed her staff and walked to the door, the bandages wrapped in the blanket in one of her arms. "And, as you two have slept together in the past, so it's not like it isn't anything you haven't seen before." She said with a giggle and a wink, and then left before Sinbad could even gather a retort to that in the slightest. How did she know?!

A small shift from the small, fragile form of Ja'far in his arms reminded him of his task. Right, Ja'far's bandages needed to be changed.

"You are a handful, Ja'far…" He murmured, leaning down and kissing Ja'far's temple in hopes of calming him slightly, and when the tense muscles relaxed, Sinbad let out a breath of relief and got to work. He glanced down at Ja'far's legs, and he saw that they were all bandaged up and where the stitch work scars had always been for as long as Sinbad could remember, there was a long, long line of red blood that had bled through the thick bandages. He worked on getting those removed first, and worked his way up. He hadn't seen much blood from anywhere near Ja'far's pelvis, except for some around his navel. He felt so guilty that even though normally the sight of Ja'far in such a compromising situation without clothes on would've turned him on immensely, the blood and immeasurable guilt he felt kept him from that predicament.

The sight was worse when he had taken the bandages off.

Long, deep tears in Ja'far's skin had been stitched back together, but as doing proper stitches would only damage Ja'far more, they had to have been traced from the original stitches. Although, there were areas where it was safer to do proper stitches, so they had been properly done. But the areas that weren't were gruesome. The skin had been stretched in the areas where it had been done properly, tightly stitched together to heal properly, the other areas had to be done barely looser, the blood crusting at the edge of the torn skin and into the muscle and flaking, the entire area a disgusting yellow color marred with bruises around the area. You could see into Ja'far's legs if you tried or pulled the skin away even slightly, the red-yellow color of the leg muscles from years of genetic mutation in Ja'far's younger years. They had tried to do the stitches as tightly as they could, but it wasn't always enough when this happened.

For now, the bleeding had stopped with the pressure of the bandages and the stitches, and Sinbad knew he had to wrap these bandages just as tightly, and not to grip Ja'far's leg with even slightly more pressure if he wanted it to stay like that.

Carefully, he wrapped up one leg and then the next, ignoring the gut-wrenching, sickening feeling he got whenever he looked at them. It reminded him a bit of how his Father's scars looked, especially one of the ones on his good leg. It had made him less queasy when he saw those than the ones on Ja'far, though. His father's had been old scars, long closed up and done more proper than Ja'far's had ever been, but these… These were fresh, and the stench of blood and all the things that go with injuries permeated the dirty used bandages, seeping into the air as he bandaged Ja'far up. He knew that Ja'far had bandaged him many, many times over, but he always made sure to do his own bandaging. Mainly, when they were both technically kids and Ja'far still mostly had the mind of an assassin, it was because Ja'far hated to see pity from those who had to bandage him because of his age and scars.

He remembered one time when they had come back from a fight, and Ja'far had been greatly injured from it to the point he couldn't bandage himself. Of course, before they could get back to the boat or anyone else, Sinbad had carried Ja'far to a healer and he remembered Ja'far wanting to just bandage himself up when he saw the pure and utter pity in the healer's eyes, so he knew from that experience that Ja'far despised being pitied in any way, shape, or form. He'd gotten better about it with time, but it never quite left him. Time after time he'd had to convince Ja'far to let people do their jobs even with the pity in their eyes, but it never stayed for long.

After he'd finished with bandaging Ja'far's legs, his face burned slightly as he started to unwrap the ones around Ja'far's hips and very upper thighs, sighing when he saw that, indeed, there were some select spots on Ja'far's inner upper thighs near his privates what would definitely scar over, and as he spread Ja'far's legs he surely thought that this was a powerful sleeping spell whoever had put Ja'far under had cast.

You like this, don't you? Spoke the little voice again as Sinbad started bandaging Ja'far's hips and up to just above his navel.

No, I don't, he thought, but the voice was persistent if anything.

Oh, yes you do. Look at him. So… Broken. Damaged. Bleeding. He'd probably be letting out the most beautiful of agonizing screams if he could.

That doesn't sound pleasant at all. He would admit that there were times he had found himself enjoying screams coming from his lover's throat, but that was always when within the throws of passion and when Ja'far was screaming Sinbad's name in pure and utter bliss.

It does sound pleasant, doesn't it? Said the voice once again, and Sinbad realized it wasn't his own voice, nor did it even really sound like his at all. This voice was calculating, sure, but it sounded… Evil, and downright creepy if he was admitting this to anyone. Not that he would.

Once he had finished with the cleaning and bandaging of Ja'far's wounds, he had sighed and lay down with his advisor, laying his head gently against Ja'far's chest, right above his heart. This was something that they did when alone with one another after a possible death of one of them. Whoever had nearly been taken from the other would let the other lay their head upon their chest and just listen to their heartbeat to ensure them that their heart wouldn't stop beating anytime soon.

When they had been traveling, this happened a lot. Although, under slightly different circumstances. Ja'far would have night terrors about having killed Sinbad, and when he awoke in a frightful panic, Sinbad would hold him down and press the little assassin's head against his own chest, letting Ja'far listen to his heartbeat as he stroked his hair.

Nowadays, this still happened, though less often. Ja'far wouldn't have night terrors about things like that nearly as often, but when he did he'd sneak into Sinbad's room and lay with him until sleep had taken him over completely.

As he listened to the steady beat of Ja'far's heart, he silently remembered that he'd have to thank Yunan, Titus, Aladdin, and Sphintus for helping in saving Ja'far. For Yamraiha, he'd probably get her a gift. Most likely a new magic book, he gathered, and thought that would be for the best. He silently wrapped his arms around Ja'far's waist, careful of his bandages, and he thought that if it got him more moments like these where he could simply listen to the steady, slow beat of Ja'far's heart, then this wouldn't be so bad.

Wouldn't be so bad? You're the one that caused this. You couldn't protect him.

Damn that voice for pointing out what Sinbad already knew and making those tears he'd been holding back flood through.


After a week of everything being hectic, things had returned to normal for everyone.

Of course, Yunan, Titus, and Sphintus had all returned to their respective countries a few days after the incident happened. Yunan had placed Ja'far under the sleeping spell, and Ja'far hadn't been able to awaken until Yunan removed it. And, once he awoke, he had, then left.

Titus, well, he was the oddest out of the three Magis, Sinbad had learned. He was simply happy to help, but that wasn't the odd thing about it. What was odd was that Titus apparently had a lot of stories to write, and things that he had to drop off to something or another there in Sindria, according to Sphintus. And for some reason, there was this uncontrollable sobbing coming from Hinahoho's room, which none dared to approach.

Aladdin however, had explained that Ja'far had sort of reminded him of a mother figure, which somehow sent chills down Sinbad's spine. Although he was glad that Aladdin had been happy to help, as he knew that Ja'far cared greatly for people, but children especially.

Ja'far had been able to leave the medical wing about five days after the incident, but he still couldn't walk, nor see, nor hear, nor talk.

He had stayed in Sinbad's room once he was allowed to leave the medical wing, and Sinbad was grateful for that much. If Ja'far couldn't walk or see or hear or talk, he wanted Ja'far either with him or in his room where he'd be safer.

But, the best part about this entire thing was actually a very private moment spent between Sinbad and Ja'far.

It had been exactly three weeks since this spell had cast, and Ja'far didn't even realize how much he could miss seeing Sinbad's face in that short amount of time. He had awoken to darkness and silence and wrapped in Sinbad's arms, which had all become usual, but what happened next surprised him. The extreme warmth around him dulled, and he suddenly heard this crackling sound in his ear, much like what happened after one swallowed after popping their ears, and the darkness gave way to a blinding white. His throat ached slightly, and an overwhelming amount of emotions washed through him once this little thing passed.

He could see again.

And hear.

And talk.

He could see Sinbad's chest moving up and down with sleep, and if he looked up he could see Sinbad's sleeping, peaceful face. He could see the purple strands of hair had splayed across the bed and partially across him. He could see the designs on the blankets and pillows and everything else in the room. He was so happy that he could see again. He had decided that, yes, he could definitely allow himself these tears building in his eyes at the pure joy of being able to see Sinbad again.

He could hear the soft rustling of the leaves from trees outside, the chirping of the birds with the rising of the sun, and he could hear Sinbad's soft breathing and snoring and the beat of his heart and he was so very happy for it.

He hummed slightly to himself, relishing in the pure and utter sound of it and he was so happy to be back to normal.

This had been an experience he'd never be able to forget, because it got to bring him closer to Sinbad and strengthen their relationship.

For now, he'd forget his aches and sharp pains and just be happy, and he wouldn't bug Sinbad about work or drinking for now, too happy to be bothered by the thought of it. Actually, he felt like actually having a small glass of wine later.

He silently wondered if he'd feel this way when Sinbad awoke to find Ja'far back to normal, and if he'd be prepared for just how much energy Sinbad had in finding out Ja'far was normal again. He also wondered if he'd be needing that alcohol later to deal with a headache.

Ah, for now, he'd just let things be and enjoy the feeling of being close to Sinbad and being able to see and hear him again.

There was a feeling he remembered from long ago resurfacing, one he hadn't felt since inside Valefor's Dungeon.

It was the feeling like having an evil demon expelled from your body, making you feel pure and whole once more.

He liked the feeling, sure, but he definitely enjoyed seeing and hearing Sinbad more, no matter how stupid or cheesy that may be.

And he knew Sinbad felt the same about him.