A/N: First of all, a quick little author's note to say THANK YOU to those who have read this and left encouraging reviews, added it to their alerts, and otherwise been supportive in this, my first fanfic writing in too long. I love this show and its cast with all my heart, especially these two characters, and I am very happy to be sharing those amazinghappyfeels with people who feel the same. That said, please don't hate me for where this chapter ends, as I promise the next part is already on its way!
Barnaby stared at the floor from his end of the couch, refusing to look at Kotetsu directly. Hot shame—and the remnants of something else that had bubbled up and taken over—made his face flushed and heated. What the hell had come over him, acting like that? There was no way he could try to explain this away as stress, remnants of the alcohol, momentary lapse of common sense. He'd just done something so utterly line-crossing, and he'd been completely aware of it at each step. So now he was going to have a terrible conversation with the only person he trusted enough to truly call a friend, and based on what he had done, he deserved nothing less than losing that friendship.
"Bunny..." Kotetsu sighed. Barnaby dared only to look at him out of the corner of his eyes, and then only briefly. "It's been a rough time lately, hasn't it?"
He nodded mute agreement, tensed warily for what was to come. What Kotetsu said was true, but where was he going with this, and why was he dragging this out?
Another soft sigh prefaced his next words. "I don't think any of us are really recovered."
That only reminded Barnaby of the still-tender burns across Kotetsu's chest and abdomen, burns he could see out of the corner of his eyes thanks to the way he'd torn open his partner's shirt. And it reminded him of what the old fool had done to save them all. He'd been so close to losing him for good... He swallowed. Only to treat him like this.
Kotetsu seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but when he offered no reply, he sighed and went on, filling the silence himself. "It's hard to deal with tough situations. Everyone handles them differently. And some of the ways aren't very helpful." There was a distance in the old man's voice, and Barnaby winced inwardly. No, what he'd done certainly hadn't been helpful. "But I think it's because we don't always know better. We don't want to be a problem. We don't want to look weak or helpless. We... well, I think you get the picture." He gestured weakly and then sighed again. "I've made a lot of mistakes in how I tried to deal with tough situations. And I made a mess of things more often than I made things better. Mostly when I was trying to make things better."
Barnaby blinked. Apologies and admissions of wrongdoing didn't come easily to Kotetsu, he knew this from experience. He'd bluff or make some excuses or try to change the subject when confronted, digging in his heels and digging himself into deeper trouble. Is that what he was trying to say right now? "I've noticed," he murmured softly, as he sensed the silence was awaiting some sort of acknowledgment from him.
The old man made a soft sound, maybe a snort, maybe a weak half-chuckle. "Thought you might. Ah, Bunny..." He shifted his position on the other end of the couch. "I'm not very good with words, either. But I can see that you're still hurting. You haven't recovered. And," his voice got stronger, stressing his words, "that does not mean you're not good enough."
Another blink. Why was he being like this? Why was he reassuring Barnaby instead of telling him off for the incredibly inappropriate things he had just done?
"I think... I think maybe you didn't get to hear that very much. I know I didn't tell Kaede enough... I know she felt like the reason I wasn't around was because I didn't make her worth my time."
"But she knows better now," Barnaby objected, looking up at Kotetsu. He was very determined not to let him feel more of a guilty burden over his family when it was so obvious how much of what he did was motivated by his love for them.
The older man was smiling sadly at him. "She knows the truth now, but I never told her, because I didn't want her to worry. It doesn't make what I did right. It doesn't go back and change all those times she thought her papa didn't come see her because he didn't want to, even if he was busy being a hero."
Ouch. Barnaby stared down at his hands again. "I think she forgives you," he said softly, feeling uncomfortable at the vulnerability Kotetsu was displaying in saying these things so openly.
"I hope you're right, Bunny. But that's what I'm trying to say to you here. You think that now that she knows better, she feels less upset at me for the way I acted when I didn't know a better way to do things, right?" He paused, waiting for the nod that Barnaby slowly gave. "Then I want you to believe that about yourself. That you did things the best way you knew how, and even if things didn't go well, it doesn't mean you were a bad person for not doing it another way instead."
Again the tears welled in his eyes. "You think this was me doing it the best I could?" he demanded, willing his voice to stay even and calm.
"Yes," was the surprising answer. Or maybe not so surprising, given how patient he'd proven himself to be when his patience was needed most. "Because you're still recovering. So you aren't at your very best."
It was almost insulting, and probably would have been, if Barnaby wasn't already loathing himself so much. He made every point of performing at his very best in any situation, and failing to do so now was what had led to this horrible chain of events.
Kotetsu sighed into the silence again. "Bunny. Please believe me."
"Why? Why are you doing any of this, Kotetsu?"
"Because we're both very good at not talking. And we need to talk about this. If we don't talk now, we never will."
"I thought you'd prefer that, after what I did." He couldn't hide all the bitterness and pain in those words. The heavy weight of despair was bearing down on him again.
"What makes you think that?" He honestly sounded surprised, and Barnaby looked up at him to make sure he was reading him right. "I'm still here because we need to talk."
He swallowed. "You could leave, though. And never talk to me again. It'd make things easier. You're retiring, so am I, we're not partners anymore." There was no mistaking the flash of pain those last words inflicted on Kotetsu, and he immediately regretted it. It seemed there would be no end to the ways in which he'd be terrible to the one person who deserved it least.
"Do you want that?" he asked softly.
"Does it matter what I want? After what I did?"
Kotetsu's gaze hardened. "Yes, Bunny, it does matter. It matters a lot, because I don't think you've ever gotten the chance to do what you wanted, instead of what—what someone else said you should do."
Barnaby froze, feeling that tightness in his chest again. As he tried to concentrate on keeping himself calm, the words trickled into his awareness, and he had to admit as he examined them that the old man was completely right. The realization gave him almost a giddy sense of lightheadedness, which balanced terribly with the weight he felt on his heart.
"So, do you want that?" Kotetsu repeated with soft insistence.
"I... no. No, I don't want that." Was it his imagination, or did his answer make Kotetsu almost imperceptibly relieved?
"Good, because I don't, either."
He closed his eyes to force the tears back. "How could you not? After what I just did?"
"Bunny... You really think it was that bad? Oh, of course you must, if you're beating yourself up for it like this." He heard Kotetsu sigh. "Bunny, I don't hate you." Hearing the words spoken so plainly was like a physical blow, leaving him reeling but taking away some of the pain he felt. He had to sit back against the couch for support. "And I'm guessing you thought I did."
"There's no excusing what I did,"
"No, that's what I've been trying to tell you. Maybe you didn't act the best and what you say and do now doesn't take it back, but it isn't so bad that I hate you. Or for you to hate yourself. I'm your partner and I say that you shouldn't hate yourself." There was a soft pause. "Heh. I guess I'll always think of us as partners. I really am old-fashioned."
Barnaby swallowed against the lump in his throat. "But what about...what I did to you?" he ventured, fearful that the reminder would be the last straw, and hopeful that maybe there would be redemption for him after all.
"Oof. That. Ahh, now you've got me." The old man sounded so uncertain that Barnaby looked up at him in alarm, and was utterly bewildered to see that Kotetsu looked...abashed? "I think I used up all my smartest words already and now I can't talk about that without stumbling over what I'm trying to say. But..." He paused, and Barnaby couldn't believe what he was seeing. Kotetsu, blushing, refusing to meet his gaze in a way that could only be called shy. "But I said...things, before you did any of that," he said haltingly. "And I did...something. You were feeling all mixed up, I wanted to make you feel better, and I... I made you even more confused. I'm sorry, Bunny."
That... No. That wasn't right. That sounded like he started to say one thing but then said something else that seemed easier. He was ignoring his own advice about digging himself in deeper and he was only going to regret it. Barnaby frowned and decided he wasn't going to let the old man do that. "I don't think that's all."
"Bunny," and now Kotetsu's voice sounded a bit strained.
He continued, undeterred. "I think there's more to it you're not saying because you think it'd be better if you didn't. And I think you're a hypocrite."
"This is different!"
"How? How is it different? How are you the exception, that saying what's really going on would make things worse instead of better?" He was glaring at him now, resolute that he was going to get to the bottom of this. Even though it was making him ache with guilt all over again to see the discomfort on Kotetsu's face.
"Because...because it'll ruin everything."
"And what I did to you didn't?"
"No, but-"
"So instead of talking we're going to pretend it didn't happen?"
"No, I don't-"
He sat up straight, fixing Kotetsu with the full force of his stare. "Stop making excuses, old man. If I didn't ruin anything with the stupid things I just did, then whatever you're going to say won't ruin it either."
"You don't even know what it is, you can't be so sure about that!" Kotetsu was glaring back at him now, hurt and defensive, and Barnaby felt another pang of guilt for what he was putting him through, even though he knew it had to be done. He refused to let his partner do this to himself again.
"Try me!"
"You sound so sure of yourself! So sure that you know what's right! Isn't that how you always are, always right about everything, until you're wrong, wrong, wrong!"
"I said try me, old man! If I didn't ruin it, neither will you!"
"Oh yeah? What if I tell you it's because I love you?"
His heart stopped. It skipped a beat. It wasn't working quite right, it was fluttering and his throat was tight and he couldn't tear his eyes off of Kotetsu. Kotetsu, who suddenly realized the words that he'd blurted out, whose face was turning pale. Kotetsu, his partner, even when they weren't partners any more, the person he trusted most, the person who went out of his way to make things better for him, the person who had held him while he sobbed, who slept next to him in his bed if that would help him sleep better, who made him fried rice in the morning, who told him I don't want to leave you!
Barnaby slumped back against the couch and took a deep breath, staring at the window and steeling himself to be calm. "I'm going to assume that question wasn't hypothetical."