Author's Note: GAAAH! I am so sorry for the slow update. I got distracted. I do that. Fufufufufu. I'm sorry. Have a bit of a longer update to make up for it. And thank you for reading.

Please excuse my fail. I will try my best to be better from now on. OTL

"He's so cold… Damn it! Why is he so cold?"

"Keep trying to wake him up. Is he still breathing?"

"I think so… barely…"

"Are you sure we shouldn't call an ambulance?"

"I'm sure. He can help. I know he can. He will… Just don't die yet… Izaya, don't die."

"Shit! He's turning blue!"

"The siren is already on. Drive faster."

The very last thing I remember, before blacking out, was a mysterious calm washing over a gruff voice as it murmured my name. A look in those fiery eyes swirled with painful recognition.

Didn't I…

Didn't I know you?

Yes… I was smaller then…

I was… someone else.

"He's waking up," a voice rang in my head as I left a world of unconsciousness plagued by nightmares.

By a steady beeping flooding through my right ear, I knew where I would find myself. It wouldn't have been the first time.

"I still don't believe it's him," that same voice said once again, "I thought he was long gone."

"So did I…"

It wasn't until I opened my eyes, blinking several times, before I realized that not only was I wrong, but I felt like absolute shit.

My eyes adjusted with some difficulty, sending pain shooting straight to my brain with any and all of the incoming light – no matter how dim.

Yes, it's true, I was surrounded by monitors tracking vital signs, with a needle in my arm. That much had been accurate enough. What I was not expecting was to find myself in a regular bed with a bespectacled brunet hanging over my shoulder; a cheeky, sadistic grin scrawled across his face.

Kishitani Shinra. Someone I could never forget.

"Welcome back," he told me, "In more ways than one."

Glancing around the room, my eyes soon fell on the angry blond, leaning against the wall beside the door. I couldn't help but smile with sick fascination.

"Shizu-chan…" I slurred the old nickname, pulling him closer with my eyes.

"You're a fucking idiot, y'know," he growled, leaning on the footboard. "Where the hell have you been!"

"Shizuo, I think we can play catch-up later," Shinra advised, gray eyes shifting to the heart monitor, "There are some things Izaya needs to know first."

I gave him a short nod, knowing where this was going. "It's alcohol poisoning."

"And you're an alcoholic, aren't you?" the doctor said, more as a fact than a question.

"Tch… call it what you want," I defensively clipped, "It's not what you think!"

With a roll of the eyes, I knew he had seen straight through me. It wasn't that difficult to figure out… simply impossible to admit…

"Don't act like you aren't aware that alcoholism is a disease, Izaya. When was the last time you ate, or more importantly, drank some water?"

But before I could answer him with just how many days it had been, he continued to speak.

"Your body shut down on you. You have what's called hermatemesis, caused by excessive drinking, and potentially liver disease. That black stuff you threw up was blood. Do you vomit often when you drink?"

"Ne? Sometimes… Nothing I can't control," I said, determined to stay hidden.

Both of the men standing over me knew I was full of shit…

"You have a serious problem," Shinra's eyes narrowed, "Last night, it nearly killed you. And that bruise on your abdomen? You should've gone to a hospital immediately."

Just as tired of his rambling as I was years ago, I waved him off, attempting to sit up when I felt an uncomfortable tug in my neck and chest. Reaching up, I pulled down the collar of the clean white shirt I had been changed into.

"What is this?" I glared at the foreign object hanging out of my chest.

"It's a CVC – central venous catheter – for blood tests. And don't you dare try to pull it out."

"And what happens if I do?" I challenged, feeling and hearing my heart begin to race.

I didn't like it. I didn't like that control was taken away from me, and I didn't care that it was saving my life.

"You'll die," he smirked.

"Liar," because he had never been any good at it.

"Just don't mess with it, Izaya. I'll remove it in a few days when the tear in your stomach heals."

"It hurts."

"Tell that to your liver."

I never could have admitted just how crushed I felt by those words. I didn't appreciate that kind of judgment when he had absolutely no idea what I had been through. Shinra had no idea what happened to me when I left Ikebukuro all those years ago…

"So where have you been?" Shizuo shot, staring at me from across the room.

Doctor's orders and a severe hangover kept me trapped in bed. No matter how much I wanted to leave this place, the blond across from me had even offered to stand watch to make sure I didn't escape. I despised him for being able to predict my moves, eradicating that idea from my list of options.

"What do you care?" I bit irritably, "Shouldn't you be out protecting your precious neighborhood?"

He shrugged, seemingly uncaring if that was the case.

I chuckled under my breath, "You didn't even recognize me. Tell me, Shizu-chan, how long did it take for you to forget I exist?"

"The same could be said for you, dumbass," the only person I ever truly loathed spat.

"Ah… well… I never intended on seeing you again, either."

Shizuo, and everybody else. All of them. I did not leave without purpose. The memories had another craving stirring within me. If we were going to have this conversation, I wanted to be numb.

"You look different," he grumbled, eyes falling to the floor, "A lot different than I expected you would…"

"Right back at you…"

"Yeah… but…"

"But I'm kind of trashy? Not what you'd expect from someone who graduated top of his class?"

"A lot has changed…"

"Everything has changed, Shizu-chan," I told him bitterly, as though I held some sort of resentment toward him.

I almost saw it like our places had been switched.

"What happened to you, Izaya? What turned you into this?"

Properly ashamed, I looked away, focusing my eyes on the dirt beneath my fingernails. It was a good question, but not one I was ready to answer. After all, there were a million things I could have asked him. I could have asked why he became a police officer, or when his anger became less than half of what it had been when I was provoking such malevolent ire in high school.

We were different people now.

I had clearly fallen down the very high ladder I'd climbed – the one I built to get to the top. Meanwhile, he had tamed a wild, dangerous beast that hid beneath the surface of his being.

Silently, I wondered if he still had that same implausible strength. I was willing to pass up the bottle for a day if only to find out.

"What?" I masked my obvious pain behind a smirk. "You don't like this new look of mine?"

"Seriously, Flea? A nose ring? I heard you graduated Todai with that thing, actually…"

"And I heard you're the only gay officer in your department."

"That," he gritted his teeth, "Is none of your business."

Having made that comment up off the top of my head, I smiled toward my own accuracy. Even with all of my issues, I still had a bit of talent left in this busted body of mine. Shizuo never had to say anything about his sexuality. All the pretty girls he'd turned down when we were teens made it fairly obvious.

"You haven't even come out yet, have you?" I laughed weakly, struggling to ignore the irritation caused by the tubes in my chest.

Watching the bright pink flush dust his cheeks was almost as delicious as downing a line of jello shots. Even I could admit – though I'd probably have to be wasted to verbalize it – my old enemy was a little cute when embarrassed. I enjoyed what I saw.

"N-no," he stuttered, "There…. There are a few people who know!"

"Like who? A few isn't coming out, you know. There's no shame in it if it's who you are."

"Oh? Just like there's no shame in drinking yourself to death?"

Heat flared up in my chest at his words, turning the tables on what seemed like a considerably smooth conversation. Suddenly, I couldn't look at him. I couldn't see his eyes without feeling the need to throw something at his skull.

I could stop.

Whenever I wanted.

When I was ready.

When I, Orihara Izaya, decided I'd had enough.

And that was one thing nobody could take away from me. I enjoyed living this way.

Tension was high, forcing my heart to gain speed while I could feel his eyes settled on me. Judging eyes. Always judging. It was a silent attack, pinning me down to my own discomfort. I wanted to scream, and yell, and run and –

I wanted, so badly, to drink these thoughts away.

So badly to feel that freedom wash down my throat and over my senses, blanketing me from painful moments like these…

Old friends and enemies… what difference did it make who they were, so long as I could drown them out of my thoughts like a plague of rats gnawing at the tattered box I kept my secrets in.