Broken

...Fourth Part: Dark...

"Dark..." I woke to the sound of Krad's voice. That was when I realized that I had fallen asleep lying next to him – it was my bed, after all – and now he was clinging to me as he dreamed. His face was hidden against my chest.

Hesitantly, I wrapped my arms around him. I could feel how thin his was by the spine protruding as lumps from his back, and by his ribcage. Ordinarily, we should be about the same size, but Krad had apparently not eaten since... who-knows-when.

"I'm here," I whispered against the top of his greasy blond head, in answer to his murmurs. His breathing soon evened out into healthier, deeper breaths that were comparably cold against my chest.

. . .

I was the first to wake that next morning, too, which didn't come as much of a surprise. Brushing some tangled hair out of his face, I whispered, "I'll be right back," and went to take a shower.

As the water poured down against my shoulder-blades, I argued with myself on whether to leave Krad to shower by himself, or give him a bath. The latter seemed a better idea, although it would probably be the least enjoyable, if that was even the right word to use.

I washed my hair quickly and got out, wrapping a towel around my waist before filling the bath. If Krad wasn't up yet, I was going to wake him up. He really needed some soap.

Krad was still asleep on my bed when I came back, but now his knees were pulled in closer to his chest and he had managed to tug the pillow from beneath his head and had his arms wrapped around it. He reminded me of a child, hugging a stuffed animal as they slept. Chuckling to myself as I passed him, I began to pull out fresh clothes for the both of us, slipping mine on before deciding to wake him up.

I crawled back onto the bed and shook his shoulder ever so slightly, not wanting to hurt him too much. I wasn't sure yet where his worst injuries were and I didn't want to take any chances with him. "Krad, wake up," I ordered softly. "Come on sleepy-head. Up."

Krad groaned and shifted, holding my pillow tighter. I pried it away from him. "Wake up," I told him again, patting the side of his face lightly.

Opening his eyes, he rolled onto his back to look up at me, grimacing as he did so. "Dark...?"

"In the flesh," I laughed. "Still sore?"

He glared at me. "What do you think, idiot?"

"Krad! You're back!" I mocked him. Obviously if he had a little bite back in his speech – even half-hearted as it sounded – a good night's sleep in a bed had done him some good. "Come on," I directed, getting back to business. "You need a bath really badly."

Krad was able to sit up by himself, and then stand briefly, but I had to catch him as his legs gave out under him, and I helped him limp to the bathroom.

"Will you be okay on your own?" I asked. I wasn't going to wash him if I didn't need to.

"I think I can take a bath, Dark," he chided.

I shrugged. "You never know unless you ask, I guess."

"Do you have a hairbrush?" he asked.

"Uhm... Yeah...?"

He confessed, "That, I could use some help with."

"Take a bath first," I told him. "I'll brush your hair after it's clean."

"Fair enough."

"Don't be afraid to call for me if you need help with anything," I told him before leaving. "Alright?"

He nodded, and I left him to it.

. . .

I was busy pulling the dirty sheets off of my bed when Krad stumbled out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. "Didn't I give you clean clothes?" I wondered, a bit confused.

"Apparently not," Krad said, sitting back on his heels and examining his palm for a moment.

I walked over to him with a bundle of black and red in my possession, and held my free hand out to him.

"I may need more than just... your hand... Dark..." he decided as he struggled to stand again.

"You can do it," I assured him. "Think of it as... therapy," I suggested.

"Therapy for what?"

"Uhm..." I thought for a moment. "Muscle therapy," I stated, handing him the clothes I'd picked out and turning back to my sheets as he got dressed. I threw the sheets out into the hall to remind myself to throw them in the washroom later if someone didn't trip over them by then and ventured back into the bathroom for a hairbrush.

I managed to startle Krad by sneaking up behind him, wrapping my arm securely around his waist as he began to collapse again. After directing him to sit on the bed, and crawling onto it behind him, I began to brush his damp hair, carefully picking through the knots and just combing through the insanely long strands.

"Dark...?"

"Hmm?"

"Why... Why are you doing this?" Krad asked, his voice becoming unusually soft again.

I contemplated the question for a long time, searching my brain for a reason, but finally, all I found I could answer was, "Honestly... I don't really know."

Krad didn't respond.

"I don't have any hair ties," I realized, frowning. He always worn his hair in a pony-tail.

Krad shrugged, silently pulling his hair over his shoulder and beginning to braid it.

"I guess..." I began, resting my forehead lightly against his back. "...it just... wouldn't have been right to leave you there."

"To leave a monster?" Krad glanced over his shoulder at me, questioningly.

I looked back up at him thoughtfully through the stray violet strands that hung in front of my face. "To leave a victim."

Krad turned his face away quickly, but I still saw the tears that slid down his face... again.