Notes: Well, after this chapter there's the epilogue. I think this is the fastest I've actually ever written a story. I had a lot of fun writing this one too, and I hope you all had a lot of fun reading it. Izaya and Shizuo are such complex characters to write, and it was so difficult trying to keep them in character the entire time, especially in a situation like this.

Not much to say here, except enjoy the chapter and review! Only one left after this chapter! I'll be sad when it's over, that's for sure.

And if you catch any mistakes, please inform me about them so I can correct them.

Chapter Seven

It took about a millisecond after Shizuo jumped out the window to realize what he'd just done. He had just jumped off the sixth floor of an apartment building, aiming for the very solid, very concrete road currently being overrun by cars. In retrospect, it had probably been a stupid idea. Maybe if he'd had time to think about it…

No…no, he would've done the same thing.

Hurtling through the air, Shizuo felt a tight sense of fear in his chest, but he wasn't sure whether that was from the fact that he'd just thrown his phone out the window, or the fact that he'd just thrown himself out the window. It was probably a little bit of both. The wind rushing past him didn't feel very comforting, neither was the road that was approaching him at an alarming speed.

He was pretty sure he wasn't going to die – being shot multiple times barely slowed him down, so he doubted a pathetic fall like this would kill him – but he worried momentarily that he might land wrong and cripple himself or be knocked unconscious. Then he wouldn't be able to help Izaya in time…

Not that he could help the flea anyway, considering that he'd killed the only person who knew where he was buried.

This all passed through his mind within seconds, and as the ground rushed up towards him, only a few meters away now, he saw a blur of silver and squeezed his eyes shut.

Then he slammed into the ground.

The impact knocked his breath straight out of his lungs and sent an explosion of pain across his body. His legs, which had been bent to ease his landing, were swept out from underneath him. He heard the scrunch of metal and felt the ground underneath him give way, curving around his body slightly as it crumpled. He heard the screeching of several brakes through the surge of agony and felt the ground tilt before crashing back down. Screams were heard around him, his body throbbed viciously and he felt blood trickling down the side of his head.

But he was alive. He was alive, and before he could even recover from the horrific fall, he forced himself to move, rolling to the side. Immediately he felt another falling sensation, but this one was short-lived. He slammed onto the floor, feeling his head crack against the concrete.

Must've…fallenona….fallen…on…acar, he thought through the painful haze enveloping his brain. He didn't allow himself a moment of recovery and forced his screaming muscles to work, pushing himself up onto violently trembling legs. He had never felt such pain before, never felt so close to death before and it was scary. Through the fog of red he saw a mass of cars around him and realized that he'd caused a chaotic pile-up. Not to mention a complete wreck of a car.

People around were screaming and panicking and he realized that he was completely covered in blood. His blood. The sight of it made him nauseous…sort of. He mind wasn't clear enough to recognize the feeling of nausea yet, so instead he just felt his stomach lurch strangely but didn't react.

Blearily he glanced up, noting a terrified driver who was starting at the grotesque remnants of the front of his car. Shizuo couldn't even lift his hand in apology and instead began to totter the other way, towards the truck that had taken off. The truck had stilled several meters away, trapped in a minor traffic jam and for that he was grateful.

He staggered towards it, hearing a screech of brakes and that incessant screaming-

CRACK.

Something smacked into his back and he felt himself soaring across the sky, wind rushing again along with that familiar, oh-so-despised falling sensation. This one was a lot more short-lived and he slammed back into the ground, hearing the sickening crack of bones and feeling his skin split open as the impact dragged him across the concrete.

He looked at the smeared blood on the ground and groaned, pushing his body up with his good hand. His left arm was mangled but he didn't spare it a glance. Instead he stumbled towards the truck, arm in front of him like a zombie. Some rational part of him – the part that had almost been completely pulverized by the pain – realized just how terrifying he must look. A bloodied, broken body stumbling and groaning with arms reaching in front, almost blindly dragging itself towards some unknown destination.

He reached the truck, hauling himself somehow by one arm and using his wobbly legs to climb up the side. He didn't know how he made it, all he knew was that he fell over the side like a sack of flour with an 'oomph' and immediately was hit with the smell of garbage.

Oh, that's disgusting…

His vision cleared slightly and he caught sight of the phone, nestled neatly on a plastic bag. He reached out with a shaky hand and grasped it, pulling it close to him. His fingers snagged in the plastic as he pulled the phone and it ripped. Cotton, crumpled silk and vomit poured out onto the garbage. He would have been disgusted, except that the contents of that trash bag had just saved his phone. The screen was cracked slightly, but to his intense joy, the phone seemed to be relatively undamaged other than that.

It was only fitting that Shizuo had chosen a phone as ridiculously invincible as him. He didn't care if it was covered in vomit right now – he was going to keep this phone in a glass case and preserve it for as long as he lived.

"Oh, thank God…for fucking miracles…" he gasped, flopping back against the side of the truck. He turned slightly, noticing a strange movement out of the corner of his eye.

It was Celty, who was on her motorcycle having stopped right next to the truck. She was waving frantically, obviously panicked by what she had just witnessed. He stared at her for a few seconds, then realized that she was still waving and was probably going out of her mind.

He did the only think he could think of at that moment to show he was okay. He gave her a thumbs up.

- 0 -

- 0 -

The air was running thin now. Soon it would feel like he was breathing through a straw, then he wouldn't be able to breathe altogether. He didn't want to imagine what would happen then. He couldn't kid himself that he'd stay calm and dignified – people did crazy things when they were close to death.

This…would have been a very interesting experiment to carry out on someone, he thought absent-mindedly.

Of course, unlike Nakamura, he wouldn't have let his beloved victim die. He'd have just waited until they went a little bit crazy, were on the brink of death and then he would have released them. He liked to watch his humans react to certain situations. He didn't like to watch them perish. That wasn't any fun.

He was going to miss his beloved humans.

The phone next to him beeped. It was running out of battery now. There hadn't been very much to begin with, and every beep reminded him of how alone he was right now.

His fingers tightened around the knife he was holding, and suddenly he smiled slightly. It was strange – the feeling of gratefulness that prickled across his skin. At least Nakamura had given him a knife to speed up the process. He knew already that he would rather slit his throat than suffocate.

Would've been better if Nakamura left me a gun…

Most of all, he thought, he was going to miss Shizuo. Whether he hated or loved the man, it didn't matter. There was something about Shizuo that just brightened his day, made it more interesting to be alive.

Maybe when Shizu-chan dies…we can begin the chase again, he thought grimly, then chuckled to himself. Yes, he'd look forward to that very much.

He raised the knife to his neck, hand trembling very slightly. He could feel the point digging into his neck. He wondered how much it was going to hurt…

A few drops of blood ran down his neck and he held back a whimper. Through his forced calm, a small tingle of panic was forcing itself through.

Do it. Just…don't think about it…

He took a deep breath – or tried to – and closed his eyes, then pushed the knife in deeper.

His phone rang.

The loud blaring didn't scare him like last time. He was tense, on edge, but his brain was too foggy for him to be shocked. Instead he dropped the knife, reaching up with one hand to touch the blood that had been squeezed out of the shallow cut.

"So close," he mumbled. Then he reached for the phone and held it to his ear. "Sh-Shizu-chan?"

"Izaya…"

Shizuo's voice was ragged, as if he'd just run a marathon. There was an undertone of triumph, of relief, and dully Izaya wondered where that came from.

"Izaya…I got it," Shizuo chuckled roughly. "It didn't break. It's a miracle…heh…I threw it out the fucking window…"

"What? How is it not broken?" He knew that Nakamura's apartment was at least on the sixth floor, if not higher.

"Landed in a garbage truck, on a plastic bag full of cotton, blankets and puke. Like I said, it's a miracle."

Izaya frowned, the strangeness of Shizuo's situation piercing through the haze in his mind. "Then how…are you calling me?"

"How do you think? The stairs would've taken too long." He was only half-joking, Izaya could tell. He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to take a breath.

"Y-you're in a garbage truck? You jumped out the window?"

"I didn't have much of a choice. I'm sitting in a pile of trash completely bloodied and I stink like hell. This would've probably been the best moment of your life if you could see me right now." Shizuo's breathing was ragged from the pain he was obviously experiencing and Izaya felt a pang of…something inside of him.

Shizuo – the man he'd called an inhuman brute, a monster – had jumped out the window for him. He'd done it for Izaya, the lousy, manipulative informant who hurt all those around him deliberately and without remorse. He'd taunted and tortured this man for years, and now Shizuo had jumped out a fucking window just so he could save Izaya. Just so he could try to save Izaya.

He swallowed, the hitch in his breathing from more than the thinness of the air.

"Izaya? Your breathing sounds funny…fuck, you're running out of time." Shizuo sounded panicked, but Izaya barely cared. All he could think about was that someone cared enough to do so much to save him – someone who didn't deserve saving. Even more important, Shizuo was the one trying to save him. "I'm gonna call the police, I'm gonna-"

"No, Shizu-chan," Izaya breathed, closing his eyes. "They won't find me in time. You know that."

"Then I'll get Celty to help me! I'll dig up the entire city if I have to!"

"You have to go to Namie."

"Wh-what?" The bodyguard was confused by the sudden change in subject. "What about her? She knows where you're buried?"

"She'll take care of everything – make sure they never find Nakamura's body. She can keep you out of jail, and she'll do it if you explain everything. She respects me enough to do that for me. And I owe you that much at least. Heh, never thought I'd be saying that."

"Th-that doesn't matter. You can take care of that. You can-"

"My battery's running out soon. My air's running out too. So I think I'll hang up now."

"There's still time."

"I didn't think you were going to help me," Izaya admitted. The bodyguard fell silent on the other end of the line, but Izaya knew it wasn't from anger. "But you did. You did so much to help me…even though I made your life miserable. And I think…that makes you the closest friend I've ever had. Haha, isn't that ironic?" He frowned slightly. "I shouldn't have said those things…Shizu-chan. They weren't true…"

Shizuo's breathing was even harsher than his own, and Izaya thought he could hear a choked sob within his breathing. Was Shizuo crying for him? No one's ever cried for me. He didn't notice his own tears sliding down his skin.

"You're…you're my friend too, Izaya."

"Heh…you always…were unpredictable…Shizu-chan."

He smiled, hanging up the phone and holding it to his chest. He was barely able to breathe anymore, sucking in short – not enough oxygen! – pathetic little gasps of air. It was agonizing, but he wasn't scared anymore though.

He wouldn't be scared anymore.

Nakamura had placed him in his own grave, pretending that this was just a little game to make him suffer, dangling escape at the end of a rope. But really, it had just been petty revenge. Izaya was disappointed in the man; he had thought better of him. But Nakamura had acted just like a human in the end.

I guess I…was right…humans are so…predictable…

Heh…I really do…love them…

- 0 -

- 0 -

The phone dropped from his limp hand onto the trash, but he didn't care. In the distance, he could hear the sound of the paramedics arriving. People weren't screaming anymore, but there was still yelling and he could see drivers and passengers getting out of their cars and surveying the wreck.

He climbed out of the truck, ears ringing and vision swimming, leaving the phone behind. It wasn't like he needed it anymore. He didn't feel the pain from his injuries; he was still too numb. People were staring at him, and vaguely he realized that someone was asking whether he was okay. He ignored them, trudging slowly towards Celty, who was standing next to her motorbike uncertainly. She didn't really seem to know what to do; she had never seen him like this.

His legs trembled underneath him but he knew they'd keep him up. The ambulance arrived and the paramedics sprang into action, quickly and efficiently. They began loading people onto stretchers.

He remained by Celty's side until finally, timidly, she tapped onto her PDA. When she showed him the screen, it took him a while to read it because the words and letters were all jumbled up:

[Is Izaya going to be okay?]

It took her only a second after he read it to quickly put away her PDA, because his face must have given away his emotions. And then, uncharacteristically, she hugged him. It didn't matter than he was covered in blood, or that his arm was broken. It didn't matter that he smelled like trash and that he had garbage all over his clothes, and that it would take weeks to get the smell off of her skin.

None of it mattered, because for the first time since they'd met, Heiwajima Shizuo was crying, and she didn't know how else to react. Neither did he, so he responded like any other human would. He hugged her back.