Author's Note:

Ah, I couldn't wait too long to post again, seeing as I think I traumatized enough people with that last chapter... As much as I want to keep moving to the other pressing issue which is Alondra, I couldn't justify not having these conversations. They define the relationships between these people moving out. So, dear readers, I hope this brings you a bit of peace after everything horrible that happened last chapter. That was the low point, and it is only going to get better for our boy!

Also, sincerest thanks for the comments, faves, bookmarks... Knowing there are people invested in what you are writing definitely makes your day and inspires you to keep at it :)

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The first thing Guzma's bleary eyes noticed when they finally opened was a mess of pink and gold hair. He didn't have to be able to see clearly to know who was sitting next to him. "Plumes…"

"Guzma. I'm not gonna waste my breath until I know you're fully conscious."

Slowly his eyes cleared, and he could see the worry written all over his best friend's face. The deep frown was not angry that he could tell, but her eyes bore into him with intensity. "So, they called ya then. Can't say I'm not glad to see ya." His voice was groggy sounding, and he averted his eyes. He sure didn't feel that he deserved to look at her after the worry he must have caused her.

"Yeah, Kukui let me know what was going on. Said he thought nobody could talk you down like me. Probably true. I sure got the experience." From anyone else, that could have sounded harsh, but Plumeria didn't get to be his closest friend by being anything but blunt.

"He thought to do that…" Guzma's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Surprised me too." She almost made a comment about Alondra telling him who knew Guzma best, but caught herself. The last thing Guzma needed right now was to have that trigger brought up. "He's definitely clueless, but at least he means well. There are worse things."

"Yeah." They settled into silence. Guzma began inspecting the IV that had been inserted into his arm. "What the hell's this for?"

"You didn't need any blood, but the doctors did worry about you dehydrating thanks to that nasty work you did on your left hand. You fell asleep before they could get you to drink, so they shoved it in your arm."

"Oh." He then turned his attention to his left hand, now stitched up. The area was super tender, even when he flexed his it. He started to reach for it with his other hand, but was stopped both by the memory of the cast he now had on his right hand, as well as Plumeria's sharp voice.

"Don't you DARE think about picking at those stitches, moron. You wanna stay in this hospital even longer?"

"Nah. I'd love to get outta here and go find myself a nice hole to crawl into."

"Look, Guz…" Plumeria waited until he looked her in the eye. Normally Guzma would stare anyone down, but now he could hardly meet the gaze of his friend. "You're not gonna be able to hide from this. I know it's not what you want, and it's gonna be tough, but that's just how it is."

"I never wanted it to be like this," he muttered lamely, hanging his head. "How many years did I hide it so this would never happen? I don't even know what to do now, how to deal with people…"

"Well, odds are good they'll ask you things. If you're a good sport, you'll answer their questions. Then, you get back to work on what Nanu assigns you. You can see the gang again, help 'em out, and then maybe you and me go challenge another league together or something."

"You make it sound so easy!" He narrowed his eyes in frustration. "You think dealing with Hala and Kukui is gonna be a simple game of 20 questions?"

"Hey, you're missing the point, Guzma. If they didn't ask, that would mean they didn't care. What would be worse?" He sighed, leaning back into his pillow. Seeing he wasn't going to say anything, she continued. "You know the old man is worried sick about you. I've never seen that guy anything but chill, but he hasn't stopped pacing since I got here. You don't blame him for not figuring it out, do you?"

That was a change of pace. "Why would I blame him? I didn't want him knowing!" Guzma scowled.

"Well, it sounds like you really put on a show back there, something that just looked like you were screaming for help." Guzma's face turned bright red. He would have denied it vehemently if he could have even remembered what exactly he'd said. That whole episode was a blur in his memory. "Then again, you must not hold it against him. When I heard you'd gone on a trip with him, I couldn't believe you'd do that. All I ever heard from you was how he betrayed you, how he gave up on you. But if you really thought that, there's no way you'd have gone with him, right?"

"I dunno why I said 'yes'. I guess…" he took a deep breath. He'd admit this to no one except Plumeria. "I wanted to believe he still hadn't given up on me."

"So if he asks you questions, you've gotta be up front with him. You cannot deny he cares about you, Guz. If you could just see his face, you would never deny it again. Shit, we call him an old man, but this if the first time he actually looked like one." The silence crept in again, but this time, Plumeria could be heard starting to sniffle. "Seeing the expression on his face, hearing how Kukui sounded over the phone, watching you lying on this bed…damn it all Guzma, I've never seen you this bad. You scared the hell out of me." Fat teardrops rolled down her cheeks and she brushed them away roughly.

"Plumes," he attempted half-heartedly. He couldn't think of anything to say to continue, however. Plumeria was not a crier, and this hit hard.

"You were my first real friend. When they told me you were talking about ending your own life… Thinking about losing you, especially now that things are starting to get better… Guzma, I know when we were in Team Skull we didn't have anybody to go to for help and I tried to do the best I could for you when you were struggling, but now you've got a shot at getting the kind of help you need. Even if you're too stubborn, suck it up and take it for my sake. I don't wanna lose you." Frustrated at her own display of weakness, she crossed her arms and turned away to look out the window.

Guzma waited a moment before trying to say anything. He had to come up with the right thing to tell her, and he didn't want to upset her any more than he had already. "Plumes, I don't remember much about what happened, but talkin' to ya, there is one thing I distinctly remember."

"Yeah? And what's that?" she demanded, still looking away so he couldn't see the tracks of her tears.

Guzma swallowed thickly. "Old man Hala was holdin' me down, and he told me to think of you and how you'd feel if I went through with it. That was enough to get me to stop." Silence, deafening silence. Why wasn't she saying anything? "Plumes, say somethin'!"

"You big idiot." The young woman turned back to face him, and though she was still shedding some tears, a smile of relief graced her face. "You'd better not just be saying that to try and get me to leave you alone…"

"Nah, do ya really think I'd say somethin' that touchy feely if I didn't hafta?" he challenged, tilting his chin, daring her to argue.

"No, probably not. You're such an asshole Guz, making my mascara start running and shit…" She looked at her arm, now covered in black. "I look like crap."

"Plumes, you could rock any look ya wanted. It's fine."

"Shut up, Guzma. You don't know jack squat about makeup."

Finally, the silence that filled the room was comfortable. Even though it was tiny, both were smiling. Still, it wasn't enough. "Hey, thanks for comin' Plumeria. I know I haven't seen ya in a while and you've got your own things you're doing now, but it means a lot, ya know?" He would have been scratching his undercut awkwardly if he had a good hand to do so, so all he could do was study the far corner of the room intently.

Plumeria raised in eyebrow. It was not like Guzma to say thanks for anything, even to people he liked. He must have really been in a dark place. "You think it's passed?" she inquired seriously.

"I…don't know. Once I go out there, when it's not just you and me, I don't know what will happen. But I won't kill myself. I was outta my mind then. You've seen me when I get bad, but trust me, you've never seen me that bad."

"Was that the first time you'd ever…wanted to kill yourself? I mean…" As the memories came back, a look of pain washed over her. "I've seen you smash crap, rip at your hair, scratch yourself til you bled, drink til you passed out, scream at yourself… But suicide…" Plumeria shivered. "This is the first I've heard about it being that bad, Guz. Did I miss something back then?"

Guzma sighed and closed his eyes. "One other time. It was before I met ya and got to be in charge of the team. I couldn't think about dying when I had a job to do. It didn't make life easier, but it gave me a reason to keep fighting anyways."

"What stopped you that one other time if I wasn't around?"

"Golisopod. Physically stopped me." His eyes were suddenly gazing into the distance, as if recalling the past. "God, I love that bug."

Plumeria shook her head, but wore an amused expression. "I know it's not funny, but why am I not surprised Golisopod would save the day?"

Guzma grinned despite himself, breaking out of his trance. "Because he's the fricken bomb. I mean, the others would have probably helped but they were all fainted from battle at that point. Long story. Point is, besides you, they're the only ones that I could always count on, ya know?"

"Yep. But remember Guzma, that's going to be different now. There ARE other people who want to help you, and you need to let them even though it's hard for you. You and me, we aren't used to people having our backs, but you've got a chance to turn it around."

A shadow crossed his face. "Yeah. Gonna be ridiculously hard." Groaning, he pulled the covers over his head. "I don't wanna face 'em. Can ya help me escape through the window or somethin'?"

"No." He heard the squeak of the chair on the floor as Plumeria stood, then the soft patter of her footsteps. Suddenly the covers were ripped off to expose his head, and his friend mussed his mop of hair. "You can do this. You need to do this. I'll be here if you need me."

"Fine!" He moved to swat her away only to hiss in pain. Damn, he always forgot about his injuries… "Hey, I forgot. Are we on the first story of the hospital, or…"

"Guzma!"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Plumeria had waited a bit longer, ensuring that he was calmed down and ready to handle more stress before she went to fetch Hala. The doctor was in the room removing the IV and trying to get him to drink some Pinap juice, so he would not be alone.

She found both him and Kukui sitting in the guest lounge. Kukui was absently flipping through channels on tv but it was apparent nothing much was registering. Hala simply sat with his arms folded and his eyes closed, as if meditating. Plumeria had to clear her throat for either to notice she'd entered.

"I think we're ready to bring you guys down. Just, don't give him a full interrogation."

"How is he?" Kukui pressed, dropping the remote. "Is there a doctor up there now?"

"Yeah, he's just checking up on him. I think if we can get the awkward stuff out of the way before we leave, that would be best in case something triggers him again."

"I don't know what I'm gonna say…" the young professor admitted, suddenly appearing anxious.

Plumeria snorted. "I'm sure it would be fine with him if everyone pretended nothing happened…"

"But it did, and I will not." Hala stood. "Do you think it is fine for both of us together, or…"

"Probably better if he doesn't have to go through things more than once."

"Very well. Come Kukui. You don't have to say anything if you don't wish, but I…" He sighed heavily, shoulders sagging. "I have enough I need to say." With that, he pushed past Plumeria and out the room, leaving the two others to follow in silence all the way down the hall.

The door to the room was open since the doctor had entered, and Hala could hear her voice as he stood outside the entrance. "Everything checks out, Mr., uh, Guzma. The stitches will dissolve on their own, but don't get your hand wet or put any strain on it to keep it from reopening. You'll come back in six weeks for an x-ray to ensure your hand healed properly, and hopefully we will be able to remove your cast. All we need to know before we discharge you is where you will be staying."

Guzma had only been half listening to the doctor ramble on about protecting his hand or some drivel like that, but as soon as the question was asked, his eyes widened and his throat tightened. He had no answer to give. Would they keep him here if he had nowhere to go? "Uhh, I don't…"

"He'll be staying with me." Hala stepped into the room, revealing his presence. His answer was resolute.

"Very well, Lord Kahuna. Because of the nature of his…injuries…we will ask that you sign for him just so we know he is being monitored."

"I'm not a frickin' child!" Guzma snarled, tensing.

Before he could put up too much of a fight, Plumeria stuck her head into the room. "You aren't going anywhere alone, so suck it up, Guz!" He responded with a low growl, but said no more, opting instead to sulk at his apparent loss of freedom.

"I will do so in a little while. May we remain here in the meantime?"

"Of course, Lord Kahuna. Take all the time you need." With a respectful bow, the woman excused herself, leaving the trio standing before the patient. Plumeria moved to close the door, then waited patiently. The first move would not be hers; she had already done what she needed to do.

Finally, the large man moved to take a seat, pulling the chair up next to the bed. Guzma was looking mighty uncomfortable, and found something interesting on the ceiling while his hands twitched to the best of their abilities. Already his stomach was churning with anxiety. Only one way to handle this. "So, remember when I was 14 and started wearin' that purple eyeshadow? Kukui always joked that I was goin' through my EMO phase?"

"Oh god," Kukui moaned, burying his face in his hands. "Don't tell me…"

"That eyeshadow is stellar for covering black eyes, ya know?" A twisted grin crossed his face for a moment, but when he noticed how miserable Kukui looked, it disappeared just as quickly as it had come. Plumeria was all set to scold him for being a jerk when he continued. "I…I'm an asshole. I shouldn't talk like that, but…I dunno HOW to…"

"Guzma, I've been thinking. A lot. And something that comes to me often is that conversation we had recently on the beach. You know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah…" Now Guzma was studying the blankets, picking at the lint.

"Two things stand out. And the first is when you told me destruction was all you knew. I didn't understand what you meant back then, but I do now."

"Old man, I…"

"I thought back when you were young that you simply had an overly aggressive temperament, that you were unable to keep your hunger for victory in check. I blamed your lack of control squarely on you, but it was actually the natural product of how you were being raised all along. And every time you had a fit after losing, when I thought you were being immature and had your priorities wrong, it wasn't about the battle as much as what came before and after the battle. Am I wrong?"

His pulse quickened in his chest and he licked his lips. "Losing is a disgrace. I'm not good enough. And if I showed up at home without a gold trophy…" His eyes squeezed shut and his entire body tensed, as if bracing for imaginary blows. Hala was all set to massage his shoulder to comfort him, to bring him back to the moment, but Plumeria rushed over to stop him.

"I know it's hard, but you shouldn't touch him when he's thinking about that stuff."

"Like I'm going to hurt him, is that right?" The normally jovial kahuna looked absolutely devastated.

"Yeah. Just keep your voice soft and keep talking to him."

One gray eye opened. "I'm right here, Plumes."

"Good. Stay there and let Hala finish." She looked at the old man expectantly.

He cleared his throat. "As I was saying, it sounds like your father was destruction. He modeled it, he made you fear it. When you became the destruction, it kept you from being on the receiving end. Therefore, you strove to 'beat down' the competition and become 'destruction in human form'. It gave you mastery over the thing that controlled you. Does that sound right?"

All Guzma could do was nod miserably. It wasn't as if he'd actually thought of his actions that way, but when phrased like that it sounded right.

"The second thing I recall that puzzled me was when you told me I was 'fronting' as your master when I offered to take you back in. I thought you didn't consider me to be your master because I did not support you during that Trial Captain process. But I see clearly now, I indeed fronted as your master because I never noticed all the warning signs. I never made a point to meet your family. I never followed you that day after the selection process. You needed me, but I failed you. How could I call myself your master after letting you down in such a way?" Hala's speech became choked, and he stopped to wipe tears from his eyes. "I don't know if I can forgive myself for that."

Guzma suddenly became frantic, as if the sight of his long-time teacher in such distress were unbearable. "Don't talk like that! I wanted to hide it, you weren't supposed to know. How could you blame yourself?"

"Guzma, you were still a child. Just because you wanted to hide it doesn't mean you were clever enough to cover all your tracks. I mean, the stories you always told about getting those bruises from training? When you kept your shirt on even when swimming with Wimpod? When you became so withdrawn and would disappear for a week at a time after a tournament?" Those memories seemed to push the old man over the edge. He stopped, bowing his head in shame and wept in earnest.

His student could not handle the sight before him. Urgently, he threw off the blankets and scrambled to the edge of the bed before his teacher. "Stop it, old man! You ain't supposed to act like this!" But when Hala didn't stop, his face blanched. It was going to take something drastically out of character to make him believe there was no ill will. Tentatively, he held out his battered hands. Hands that had only ever been good at breaking and damaging. Taking a deep breath, he reached out hesitantly and hugged his master, face burning and eyes once again looking to the ceiling. Guzma didn't hug people. Sometimes he let Plumeria because he trusted her that much, but it wasn't something he was used to. "Look, I don't blame ya, so you shouldn't blame yourself either." And much to his surprise, he realized he meant what he said.

Before Hala could respond, the moment was interrupted by Kukui's phone ringing. "Damn it," he swore, digging in his pockets for the phone to silence it. Definitely a mood killer… But before he silenced it, he looked at the name in the caller id and cursed again. "I'm sorry, I have to take this." With the push of a button, he answered. "Hello Mrs. Santos."

"Mrs. Santos?" Plumeria questioned, confused.

Hala straightened up, Guzma having since separated himself sheepishly. "Alondra's mother."