A/N: I am so so so so so sorry for all the time it took for me to get this next installment up!!!! I FINALLY got my internet back (thank God for techno-geek fathers, eh?) and as soon as it was set up this was the first thing I got on to do! I really hope you enjoy this next chapter, and I promise I will do much better about uploading the last few as we make our way to the end of this story.


Forgotten
Chapter 12
: The Biggest Mistake

"Eiri, I think we need to talk." Tohma said softly, pulling a chair close to his brother-in-law's.

Eiri sat silent for a moment, staring down at his lovers pale body curled in the white sheets of the hospital bed. His head was bandaged heavily, making it appear for one ridiculous moment like he might be wearing a turban. The breathing machine was clicking and gasping loudly, puffing air into the vocalist's lungs. The heart monitor was beeping steadily, as it had been for the last two days.

"About?" Replied the author in a dead voice.

"About the night Shuichi got sick."

Sooty golden eyes flickered to meet soft blue ones and then retreated. "Why?"

"I need to know what happened."

"No. You want to know what happened. You don't need to know a damn thing about my personal life."

A short pause, followed by a sigh. "Will you talk to me anyway?"

"What do you want to know?

"Why did you leave him?"

"I needed to get away." Eiri's deep voice was laced with the pain he felt; he couldn't hide that emotion well right now. He closed his eyes and pretended Tohma wasn't there. It worked rather well, until the blond keyboardist continued talking.

"Why did you need to get away?"

"I don't fucking know," Eiri replied, his tone more exasperated than angry. "I just needed to leave. It… he… I was feeling closed in. I had to get out. I packed all my shit and left."

"Were you planning to leave for a long time?"

"I wasn't planning a God damn thing. I just needed out, so I got out. I didn't know where I was going, what I was doing, if I would stop, go back, run my car off the road… all I knew was that I needed to leave the apartment."

"So that's why you didn't know where you were," Tohma said, thinking aloud. "When I called you that afternoon, you said you didn't have a clue where you were."

Eiri nodded, hoping that would be the end of it.

"And when you got home…?"

The question was barely a question, so vague it had no real answer. Eiri sighed and sat up a little straighter in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. He took a long, deep, slow breath and let it back out in a large huff.

"When I got home he was on the floor in the living room, unconscious. I woke him up, told him to get off my floor, and started to walk away, to put my stuff back. Then he puked all over my floors and I got so angry, I could barely control myself… I dragged him into the bathroom and left him to his own devices, then cleaned his puke off my hardwood. He ended up taking a bath and when I checked in on him we started fighting. Jesus, Tohma, I don't think I could even begin to tell you what I was thinking at that point. I was just so fucking angry all the time. He was always there, in my head, in my house, in my space. I felt surrounded by him, never able to get him away from me. And just when I'm finally starting to feel normal, starting to make a break for it, get away for once, he draws me back in."

"Does he really bother you that much?"

"No." Eiri said, his voice cracking on the word. "No. I'd give anything to have him back, exactly the way it was."

"I don't mean now, Eiri," Tohma began quietly, placing a small hand on the novelist's back. "I know you'd kill to have him back now. I mean then. Obviously if he was returned to you and you went back to the exact same thing as before, this would only happen again. Something's wrong in this mix."

"Sometimes, maybe… yeah. He does bother me. But it's nothing that he's doing wrong, it's just small things that will tick me off one day, but be cute or endearing the next. There's no method to the madness." Eiri lifted his face from his hands, his golden eyes boring into Shuichi's soft face.

"I know you love him Eiri. You wouldn't have stayed so long… you wouldn't have let him stay for so long if you didn't."

"Maybe it's not enough."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Shuichi loves you though, and perhaps you should think about that when you think about how close he is to you. The only reason his always there is because he loves you so much."

"I said and did some horrible things to him Tohma. I left him in the cold when he was sick."

Tohma Seguchi found himself momentarily quieted by those words. There was no denying them, for they were entirely true, but he didn't want to give his brother-in-law more excuses to wallow in hatred for himself.

"We all make mistakes."

"This was a big fucking mistake to make."

"Have you learned from it?"

"Yes." Eiri's voice cracked once again and he put his head back into his hands as he nodded vigorously. "Yes."

"Then it will be okay. The reason we make mistakes is so we can learn from them. I believe Shuichi will pull through."

Eiri's shoulders shook as he began to cry, the tears burning and blinding. Pain tore through him, hitting him like physical blows to the chest. "God forgive me." He whispered in a tormented voice, calling out to any deity known and unknown, wishing he could take it all back. "I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. God forgive me."

Tohma rubbed small circles into Eiri's back, as he covered his eyes with the other hand. From the day that Shuichi had not shown up for work, until this moment here, his emotional feelings towards the man beside him had flowed and swayed and changed as rapidly as the ocean tide. Eiri had always been a top priority to him, the novelist's wellbeing as important as his own. When he had left Shuichi out in the cold, however, those feelings had changed; the business man in him had taken over. His protectiveness had switched from Eiri to Shuichi's well-being; he'd kept his brother-in-law away from his lover, perhaps mistakenly judging by all the emotional damage done. At the time, though, he'd looked at both men as his family, keeping Shuichi safe as he recovered and keeping Eiri away as both men healed their invisible wounds.

Most of this felt like his fault, the two men he cared for most in his life were in pain, one recovering from a fatal illness, one recovering from a mental torment. Was there truly anything he could do?

"You didn't know what was wrong with Shuichi when he first got sick, Eiri." Tohma told the novelist quietly. "None of us could have foreseen this."

"Throwing him out in the middle of November during the coldest fall in the last twenty years is inexcusable. Common cold or brain tumors, letting him fend for himself with any illness… I can't forgive myself and neither should he."

Tohma didn't feel like he could say anything. No matter what he tried, Eiri was suffering and nothing would alleviate his pain.

Eiri reached out a hand slowly, tentatively, and grasped Shuichi's pale limp fingers in his own. His thumb stroked softly across the back of his palm as the two blond men sat in silence, watching and waiting.

Eiri jumped, sitting a little straighter.

"What is it?" Tohma whispered.

"He moved."

Tohma's eyes widened in shock and he gripped Eiri's arm, then rushed to the other side and grasped Shuichi's other hand in his. Indeed the fingers he clutched seemed to twitch underneath his palm. He gasped softly.

"We should call in a doctor… a nurse." Eiri said slowly, disbelievingly.

Tohma nodded, knowing it was more of a request than a statement. Eiri was stroking his thumb quickly, the movements fast and jerky, across his lovers hand. Tohma rose from his chair and hurried into the hallway, informing the first doctor he saw. The doctor nodded and rushed off to get one of the doctors assigned to Shuichi's case, and Tohma snatched his cell-phone, rushing outside to call Hiro quickly.

"He's moving." Tohma said shortly as soon as the guitarist answered.

"He's… moving…as in waking up?"

"We're not sure."

"I'm on my way." Hiro replied.

The call disconnected and Tohma rushed back into the recovery room. It was full of three doctors and a few nurses, Eiri sitting close to Shuichi, his expression pained as he refused to be moved.

"Vitals are normal, BP is…"

"I can't see anything wrong here, his pupils are normal…"

"Could it be a random muscle spasm?

"Check the medication levels; make sure that they aren't reacting…"

Tohma strode to Eiri's side. "Perhaps it would be best if we moved out of their way."

"No." Eiri growled. "I promised to stay with him."

Tohma gave the doctors a helpless glance. They nodded and worked around the two men, Eiri grasping Shuichi's hand, Tohma grasping Eiri's shoulders. For a full five minutes the doctors checked and calculated, writing down conclusions on forms and clipboards of notes.

"Everything is checking out, it's possible that his muscles are just contracting." One doctor said gently to Eiri and Tohma. "We'll keep a close eye on his progress."

"Mr. Seguchi! Mr. Yuki!" Hiro called as he came jogging down the hallway. "Is he alright?"

"He'll wake up." Eiri said quietly. "Come on Shuichi, fight for it, breaking through. I know you're strong enough."

"Enough, Eiri." Tohma said. "It'll be okay. Shuichi will wake up when he's ready."

Hiro sank back against the wall, rubbing his eyes.

Eiri dropped his head and let go of Shuichi's hand. The three men were left alone in the room, sitting in silence and hating the fact that there had been a false alarm.

But then the sheets crinkled. Shuichi's legs jerked upward and stretched back down, his arms curling as he sighed deeply by himself for the first time in two days. Eiri, Tohma, and Hiro all leaned forward, praying for this to be the time.

Two soft, glittering purple eyes fluttered open and closed and open again. Eiri's breathing became shallow; he griped Shuichi's hand tightly. Then, softly, in a thick and sleep ridden voice came the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"…Yu…ki…?"


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