Summary: Taichi—every time he "uses" magic, his body grows weaker. Can Yamato save him before it's too late? Yamachi/Taito

Disclaimer: Owns neither Digimon nor any of its characters.

Cursed

By: splintered

He didn't know how much longer they stayed like that in the quiet comfort of a hug, but Taichi knew that it was always felt safer in Yama's arms. His Yama would always try to protect him, even if his Yama didn't even know how to begin. (One couldn't exactly protect someone from a supernatural force, could they?) But Taichi appreciated his friend for trying. 'Just being here is enough,' the brunette would continue to insist. The continual warmth and distinct smell that was Yama lured his senses as he slowly regained his strength.

"Can you walk?" Yamato asked after a while. The blonde didn't question his friend any further as they fell into the familiar pattern of Taichi getting hurt and Yamato being there. And this is nice. It was nice to be needed, Yamato thought. God knew that I have enough problems at home in the past, Yamato thought as he remembered the discrepancies he had with his father before he really got to know Taichi....

Yamato fumbled with the house keys, barely noticing the car in his driveway. All he could think about was how nice it would be to collapse in the nice, warm bed. Now, if he could only get past the parental authority then he'd be home---

"Where were you?" Hiroaki Ishida's tired voice floated lazily from the sofa.

---free. The blonde stiffened at the sound of his father's voice. Damn. Too late, Yamato sighed. Well, so much for trying to sneak in unnoticed...

"Hi, Dad," Yamato said uneasily, "when did you get home?"

"Oh, sometime around eight...then I find out that my son's not home and didn't even leave a note or anything. Is your cell phone dead?"

"Well, no, but..."

"So, you just turned it off."

At least Yamato had the decency to look ashamed, if that meant anything at all.

So," his father prompted, "where were you?"

"I was in the park, okay?"

"It's almost midnight," Hiroaki sighed, pointing to the clock resting on the mantel. "You could have at least called."

"I didn't know anyone would be home," Yamato said coldly.

"Yamato," his father pleaded. "You know I try, but sometimes..."

"Yeah...sometimes it just gets too hard. Too hard to try to act like a father. Too hard to try to keep a marriage together with your wife. When's the last time you even talked to mom, huh? You know, the d-word doesn't just mean you guys can't stay friends. And I can still see Takeru, right?"

"Yamato...you know I love you. And I love Takeru, but your mother and I are just working out things between us. I'm sorry about the move, but you'll make new friends."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He could have left it at that. In fact, he should have left it at that, but sometimes, one lacks proper judgment, no matter how much one tries. "Well, shove it, Dad. You could just shove it up your---"

"I-shi-da Ya-ma-to," Hiroaki reprimanded, trying to keep his anger in check. It would do neither any good if Hiroaki really strangled his eight-year-old son like he wanted to. So instead, he went for the weaker demand. "That's no way to talk to your father." No one ever said that parenting was easy.

"Father," Yamato laughed insanely. "I have no father." Oh God, he should really get some sleep.

And that's just what he did. Sleep, knowing full well that he would have to clean up his 'word vomit' (1) in the morning, while another whispered familiar words as he slept....

"Yamato...you know I love you." An attractive blonde woman said as Yamato noted her imperfect cosmetics. Light blue eye shadow that in theory, accented her eyes---beautiful blue eyes that were without their usual twinkle. Cherry red lips revealed a chipped tooth and a strained smile. Her long blonde bangs fell haphazardly in her face, hiding the blotched tears. The familiar flawed face of his mother haunted his dreams, or rather... his memories.

The seven-and-a-half-year-old version of Yamato nodded as his mother hugged him, muttering words of comfort. How ironic because she was the one who was leaving...the one causing all the pain. And she would be taking Takeru with him.

"It's gonna be okay. It's gonna get better. You'll see."

Tighter and tighter, she hugged him. After all, she needed this more than he did.

"It's only for a little while....only until things settle down...I'll come and visit, you'll see."

Tighter and tighter, the arms wrapped around him like two long flesh colored snakes constricting his air flow. He couldn't breathe.

"Be a good boy for your father, okay?" she smiled.

Again, he nodded.

"Yamato...you know I love you," she repeated. And those where the last words she told him before she left.

And just like Yamato's mother, Hiroaki Ishida was gone the next morning. A note lay on the kitchen counter.

--

' I'm sorry, Yamato....I love you. Be good,

---Dad

P.S. Money for food is under the clock. I'll be back in a week. '

Just like that, Yamato was left to deal with the nightmare alone. Alone with nothing but that and the gnawing fear that the next person who said they loved him would leave him. Well, Yamato mused, at least I have Tai now. Tai needed him even when no one else did. And even though they had long moved past the months of rebellious Yamato who hated Hiroki because he refused to talk to his wife and mother (an eight-year-old couldn't hold a grudge for very long, Yamato found) and Yamato had long reconnected with his brother Takeru after Hiroki had mended his relationship with his ex-wife, Tai still needed him. Or maybe Yamato needed Tai.

"I think so..." the brunette replied timidly, surveying the hard look in Yamato's eyes. It was a mixture of sadness and bitterness, and perhaps one also one of regret—a myriad of it possible to feel so much, Taichi wondered, surveying his boyfriend's expressive blue eyes. But at the same time, it wasn't the hard look that confused Tai. It was the soft look in Yamato's eyes that did. Was it possible to feel so many contradictory emotions?

"Yama? Yaaaaa-maa? Are you still there?"

"Huh?" Yamato surfaced from the memories. The first thing he noticed was Taichi's worried face. "I'm sorry," he apologized. He always apologized. One would think that Taichi had him whipped, but, of course, that wasn't really the case.

"It's okay."

"No it's not," the blonde replied fiercely. "What if I really lost you this time?"

"But I'm right here," the brunette smiled, gently wiping the tears off Yamato's face. Tears that Yamato didn't know he had. Had he really been crying? When was the last time he cried? Yamato didn't had always prided himself in keeping his cool. But then again, wasn't it Taichi who always evoked the strangest emotions?

"Yama? I'm fine."

For now... the blonde added silently. But then...it wasn't easy... then when I met you....

Author's Note:

To be continued? Possibly... Reviews sure help. -hint- -hint- Right now, I'm hating the format. I wanna indent, damnit! And thank you krad, AngelSachiya, Courage Sun, DarkMetalAngel of Destruction, ImmaLeach, Crazy PurpleSage, and nikigrl-123 for reviewing. For all of those wondering "what is it that Tai actually does"...well, I guess you have yet to find out...if you even do. -evil grin- And I think I fixed that one run-on from the last chapter...Anyways, thank you for reading and putting up with me. I would love it if you drop by with a review.

Other notes:

(1) Mean Girls reference. I don't like Lindsey Lohan, but who hasn't seen that movie?

CHAPTER EDITED: 01/17/09