He couldn't remember a time when he had ever felt this warm, not even when his mother had still been alive to hold him. Going as far back as he could, Izaya always recalled being physically chilled to the bone, which partially resulted in the constant wearing of his parka. This warmth was unfamiliar. Not unwelcome, just foreign enough to make him worry about its validity. He couldn't say it was uncommon for him to imagine someone, anyone, letting him cling to them for heat and protection during a time of crisis. Mostly though, it would be when he was laying in bed, arm hastily stitched and pressed painfully into his side as he tried to sleep. This illusion of safety and love would allow him enough comfort to fall into a sleep where that was the only thing that existed; there was no abusive father, there were no bloody sheets to clean, just serenity.
Somewhere along the line, as Izaya lay in his cot that had been happily made by Shinra, this serenity had been given a name, a face. Slowly it became more defined until it was a mirror image of the one who hated him most. It must have been some sort of subconscious punishment to let him imagine this man holding him without any malice, because when he would wake up, he would just be alone again, and that man would still want him dead. At least, he thought that Shizuo still wanted him dead. The lines they had so blatantly drawn were now blurred so badly Izaya thought they had vanished. Now there was nothing to separate them. He had nowhere to hide, and it frightened him. So, he kept his mouth shut, as not to damage the already fragile truce between them or show weakness. After all, it is said that actions speak louder than words.
Izaya buried his face in the blonde's chest, letting his arms circle around his waist and draw himself closer. His eyes were closed tight out of a mix of emotions, most of which were too embarrassing for him to describe. His pride had suffered enough.
Above him, Shizuo shifted, craning his neck so he could look at the one who clung to him so desperately. As far as he could tell, Izaya was asleep, and that was how things were going to stay. He threaded his fingers through the silky black hair and kept on staring at the television. Some children's show was playing, the colors and music bright enough to keep him from thinking about the threads grazing his bicep. They were taught and itchy, maroon flakes chipping away onto the blankets when Izaya moved too quickly.
He brushed some of the bits away when Shinra poked his head in the door, signaling that it was time for him to go. Shizuo looked at Izaya one last time; his face was calmer than he had ever seen it, and he drank in the sight readily. Shinra clicked his tongue.
"Shut up, will ya? I'm leaving, just give me a second," Shizuo grumbled. His brunette friend closed the door behind himself with a soft click. Alone with the sleeping boy, he figured it was as good a time as ever to say something. He couldn't get his feelings thrown back at him with Izaya asleep like this. So he decided to take a rather pitiful leap of faith, but a leap nonetheless. "You better be okay, Izaya. I like you. I mean, you're still an annoying brat, but…I like you…maybe love you…I dunno…just get better, stupid flea."
His words echoed in Izaya's head long after the door closed, and long after the argument outside of his room began. They stuck with him even as he was thrust back into a house that could never be considered a home, only to be struck violently until his body couldn't keep itself up. In all honesty, those simple, and possibly insulting if he were more easily offended, words stayed with him until the day he died.
It didn't seem like much at the time; another stranger just bumped into him on the sidewalk as they rushed towards their destination. Shizuo would've beaten the shit out of him usually but he couldn't muster the anger. Instead of flaying the man alive, he just mumbled an apology at the back of a quickly retreating form. He received no response.
"Ungrateful four-eyed bastard," he growled, though it didn't have the intimidating tone it normally did. Shizuo kicked a rock with his shoe and continued down the street. On the fourth or fifth kick, as he pulled back to launch the thing a ways down the sidewalk, he paused. A raindrop plopped on the scuffed leather, showing him a bleary and upside down reflection of himself. For a moment, he thought it was poetic, and how much Izaya would love to just go on and on about the symbolism. And then he realized what kind of symbolism it was. He thought, suddenly, that he hated rain more than anything.
The pounding on the door drew him out of his catatonic state, startling him enough to make him jump and clutch his pillow. A drop of blood landed with a tiny plip on the cotton casing, slipping easily between the threads on his arm. Izaya cursed silently and listened for any other sounds.
Hushed voices, one sounding alarmed and the other one sounding downright venomous, were exchanging words at the front door. The volume was escalating so that this unknown conversation was turning into a full out argument. But through the layers of drywall and insulation, Izaya couldn't make out the words. He would catch snippets of it, but only just.
"Where is-"
"You can't do-"
"He's mine, damnit!"
Izaya paled. There was only one person that could be. Well, he sighed, it looks like daddy dearest has found me at last. A few thuds sounded from the foyer and all he could do was wait. He waited patiently for the door to swing open and show his furious father there, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.
"You're coming home," he stated, seething with rage but still collected as ever. Shinra panted behind him from trying to hold the larger male off and ultimately failing. He looked distraught, unsure of what he could do to stop whatever was happening from progressing any further.
For a moment, he didn't move. Izaya thought about so many things in the split second it took for him to stand up. He thought about his sisters and hoped that they wouldn't be home to witness anything. He thought about what time Celty would be getting home from the grocery store, and how they were supposed to have spaghetti that he would've refused to eat. Still, it was the thought that counted. More than anything though, he thought about what Shizuo said. Love you. His steps were propelled forward with the lurching in his heart as he pondered what the blonde would do when he got the news that Izaya was back home. Would he cry? Izaya was going to for sure. Shizuo would probably just smash a window with a stop sign and then go beat up random people.
"Izaya…" Shinra whimpered, moving to stop him only to be pushed back by an elbow in his ribs.
"I could sue you for kidnapping you know," Izaya's father hissed, eyes narrowed at the young prodigy. "Don't think I won't. Stay away from my son."
Shinra's eyes looked from Izaya to the main threatening a law suit and knew he couldn't win. He stepped away, feeling more helpless than he had in a long time.
Nothing else was said as the two black haired males left the apartment. Shinra closed and locked the door, waiting for Celty, and staring at the phone in his lap. He couldn't be sure that police would believe him with all of the self-inflicted scars on Izaya's body. There was no way to differentiate the marks. The bruises could be explained away with the constant fights he got into. And there was no chance in hell that the twins would back him up in an abuse case against their father. So he did the only thing he felt that he could: wait.
'He's gone.'
Those were the only words visible on Shizuo's phone when he received Celty's text. He read it over and over, not wanting to believe and too scared to. When he went to respond, another text blocked his screen.
'I'm calling the police. It'll be okay Shizuo, don't worry. We should've done this sooner and I don't know why we didn't. Just stay strong okay? We'll get through this. All of us.'
Dear readers, I apologize for the wait. I've been going through a lot of personal issues and have been struggling to overcome them. I haven't found the motivation recently to write this. I'd like to think things are looking up, so here's the new chapter.
I'm sorry if it seems rushed; it was a plot decision that needed to be made. I hope you guys like it!
~Chickadee
