Thank you everyone who read this! You guys are awesome. Usually I'm going to post on Mondays and maybe Thursdays/Wednesdays if I get inspired...er..yeah.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2

Ikebukuro, the city where anything can happen. The city never sleeps and it never stop surprising you. Or maybe that's Izaya. I thought I was ready for anything the city could throw at me: gangs, knives, gunman, psycho informants, but Ikebukuro is very fond of keeping you out of your comfort zone and reminding you how much you still have to learn.

I look down at Izaya with an expression halfway between shock and disgust. I thought if anyone could stand up to my strength and invincibility it would be this guy, but apparently I was wrong.

Another crack of thunder rumbles over my head accompanied by a flash of lightening. Izaya's dog whimpers and crawls on his belly to his master's hand and starts licking it. A really pitiful sight.

I can't take it, I just can't take it. I pick up a dumpster and hurl it at the brick wall shaking whatever kind of building it's attached to on its foundation.

Someone throws up a window and starts cursing me out, I look up and give the woman a death glare. She quickly pulls back inside and slams the window shut.

I jerk my shades off and stick hang them on my vest then crouch down to get a closer look at Izaya. The little pint-sized canine growls at me and I yell for it to go back to the box, gesturing angrily and using a colorful array of profanity. The dog skulks off with its tail between its legs, but it doesn't go far.

I turn Izaya onto his back, disturbing the pink puddle that's forming around him. He seems to have passed out. His switchblade is lying on the ground about a foot away, he must have dropped it when I let him fall. The wound seems to be on his stomach or chest so I pull his shirt up to get a closer look.

Part of this feels like an alien investigation, the other part just feels wrong, like I'm invading holy ground or something stupid like that.

Izaya has a makeshift bandage wrapped around his stomach that looks like it was made out of someone's old T-shirt. It's covered in blood. Old crusty stuff and fresh blood that stains my fingers when I pull the bandage away.

It's not like me to cringe, but something about vulnerability and weakness just doesn't agree with me. It's like it's so pathetic it hurts or something and the long gash across the unconscious flea's stomach is just too much of both. It makes me sick to my stomach just looking at it. I pick up another dumpster and hurl it into the air.

Hopefully that won't come back to haunt me.

I let Izaya lay in his puddle and pace back and forth. This is the moment I've been waiting for, but somehow killing Izaya when he's lying on the ground, dead to the world, unable to even remember his own name isn't the kind of victory I have in mind. It won't be a real win. I have to kill him when he's completely aware that I've beat him despite everything and that I'm the better man. That won't happen if I let him die on the street like some dirty piece of vermin, which he is, but he's my vermin and no one else is going to take the ultimate prize, giving him the death blow, except me.

That decided I scoop I Izaya's limp body and continue walking to my apartment. We're both soaked through and Izaya's body temperature is starting to worry me. I touch his fingers. Nearly icy cold to the touch. I walk a little faster.

Izaya's fragile health isn't the only thing I have to worry about. If people see me walking through the streets carrying a seemingly dead Izaya the rumors will never end. Who knows what they'll try to pin on me.I hunch over, trying to cover him a little bit and hurry to my apartment.

After fumbling with the key for much too long I finally open the door. Izaya gets unceremoniously dumped on the couch and I realize his mangy mutt followed us and somehow snuck through the door. I sigh and slam it shut, blocking out the storm.

Shaking the water out of my own hair I turn up the heat and then search around for a blanket or something. First comes warmth. I'm pretty sure the cold will get to Izaya before that wound and blankets absorb blood as well as anything else, right?

You may have noticed this already, but just to clarify: I am not a medically skilled man. Being injury-free almost every day of your life can do that to you.

I grab a heap of fabric out of a closet and dump it on top of Izaya. He whimpers, but doesn't open his eyes. I can't tell if his lips are turning blue or not and turn up the heat a little more than change into dry clothes. No use in watching him nonstop until his eyes open. That probably won't do him much good. I pace around the kitchen and lite up a cigarette. Nothing like a little smoke and fire to warm you up. I have to grin at that thought.

Halfway through my cigarette Izaya's little dog comes in and starts walking around my feet shamelessly begging for food or attention or whatever dogs want. I yank the fridge open and pull out the first food item I find.

"I expect you to eat all of that," I say around my cigarette as I dump the bag of carrot sticks onto the floor. I'm not really sure how those got in my fridge in the first place.

Oh well, when in doubt, give it to the dog.

After my second cigarette I start to get worried about Izaya and check on him. He seems to be a little paler then usual…and not as snarky. Maybe his lips are blue. I can't really tell.

"Wake up, dang it!" I yell, losing my patience with the sickness and weakness that Izaya has been taken over by.

It works though. Izaya's eyes fly open and he looks around frantically trying to identify the threat.

"Good. You're awake," I say nonchalantly, rolling the cigarette between my lips. "How do you feel?" I suppose that's the best place to start. I don't think I've ever taken care of a sick person before. Of course, I've never really had the need to. Is Izaya really sick? I wonder worriedly.

"I-I feel like.." I lean closer so I can hear the quiet words better. "Like I've been run over….with a tank…and then drowned."

Well that's…interesting. I'm not really sure what to do about that, though.

"How does that cut feel?" I ask. Maybe that would be easier to deal with. I think this is a type of problem solving method called Chop It into Chunks and Deal with the Chunks or something. Most of my problems can be solved by throwing a large object at it.

"What do you care?" Izaya asks. While I'm glad to see some of his personality is intact it still gives me quite a shock. "Aren' you just-" a coughing fit cuts him off. "-gonna kill me or something?" he finishes.

Wow, his Izaya-ness is still there…a lot more than I thought actually. Good.

"Why would you-" he starts coughing again. It's a painful sound that makes my chest hurt. "-unless you're my father-" he's cut off by another coughing fit. "-or something." He looked me over. "I must come from a rough family."

Apparently Izaya has decided that whether I like it or not I am his father now. Yeah, right. I may be taller than that little flea, but I'm not much older.

"That'd be…my…only reason to trust you after all," Izaya chokes out then falls back, limp.

"Hey! I didn't finish with my questions!" I bellow, but his eyes are closed and I get the feeling he's passed out cold. Great. I am definitely the wrong person to leave medical attention to, especially when the patient doesn't give me any symptoms! How am I supposed to know what's wrong if he won't tell me anything? How am I supposed to know anyway? I'm not a doctor.

I start pacing again. It's the only way I can think of to relieve all this stress without throwing something. Loud noises probably aren't good for sick people. Maybe I'll make pacing my new hobby, it's kind of addictive at this point.

Then there's that father angle Izaya seems to want me to play for some reason. I can't fathom it at all, but if it means he'll stay still long enough for me to bring back the old Izaya so I can kill him fair and square it seems like the flea has given me the best idea I've had all night. Of course, I don't want him going around calling me daddy or something stupid like that…maybe I could convince him I was an uncle or something. He might just be crazy enough to believe that. After all, who in their right mind would think I am related to the flea?

Well it only has to work until Izaya is back on his feet and he's pretty resilient so…not very long, right? Yeah.

Now I just have to psyche myself up for looking at that wound because honestly, even though my scarring memories of it can't exactly be trusted, it looked a mess. Best to do it while he's under. That way he won't feel it…right?

This medical stuff is driving my insane.

I push aside the blankets and peel back his shirt. It's warmer, but still soaking wet. Nothing I can do about that though. I carefully take off the makeshift bandage and drop it on the floor as if it has some sort of disease, which is might. I don't know. After that I get my best look at the long slash across his stomach. It's not bleeding very badly now, but still I don't like it.

I walk into the back hallway and dug around in the closet until I find an old beat up first aid kit in the very back of the closet. I've probably never used this in my entire life and I probably won't ever need it again.

I open the white box on the floor next to Izaya and look through it. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I pull out a long white strip of guaze. This looks promising. I dig around some more looking for some sort of medicine that prevents infection or increases healing or whatever. It seems like you should always put medicine on a wound. Besides, it would probably help Izaya heal faster, right?

I finally find a bottle with the promising inscription 'wound ointment' in Kanji. On the back it says, 'Prevents infection' and some other things I don't bother to read.

I don't want to touch the wound so I get a paper napkin out of the kitchen and smear some of the ointment on with that. Then I wrap up Izaya's chest, trying not to wrinkle the bandage, but hurrying. I don't want to spend any more time of this then I have to.

When I'm finished I heap all the blankets on top of him. Iwalk into the kitchen, thinking of what I want for dinner, but quickly realize I've lost my appetite. Izaya doesn't look like he'll be eating anything soon. The dog on the other hand is busily finishing the carrot sticks. He looks like he's almost choking himself, at the rate he's going at I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

"You're the only hungry one," I tell him, leaning wearily on the counter. "No one's going to take those from you."

The dog keeps eating until he finishes the last crumb and looks up at me expectantly as he finishes crunching the carrots.

"No more. You're lucky I don't send you back out into that storm," I say, pointing at the window. Rain is beating against it and every so often thunder rumbles and lighting brightens the room.

The dog seems to understand and slinks away to the couch where he joins Izaya.

It reminds me of what a big mistake I'm probably making. Whatever. If Izaya comes at me in that state I don't doubt a human of normal strength would be able to overpower him. With my superior strength I shouldn't have any problem dealing with him.

I shake my head and walk down the hallway to my room. Either Izaya will die during the night or I'll have to deal with him in the morning. That thought sends a twinge of fear running through me because as much as I hate him I don't want some petty wound to kill him instead of me. That would be so anticlimactic. I would never forgive myself if I lost to a knife wound. I look back at Izaya's resting form. I've done all I can…or know…to do, now it's up to him. I have to get some rest anyway. I'm not his mother, I shouldn't be losing any sleep over him.

I turn out the lights and walk up the hallway to my room. After changing out of my bartender's uniform I climb into bed and try to fall asleep. Luckily it doesn't take long for me to fall into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately the same cannot be said for my two house-guests.

I slowly open my eyes as more barking assaults my ears. Why the heck can't the neighbors shut their dogs up at night. Then I realize the barking is too loud and remember the dog and Izaya.

I sit bolt upright and jump out of bed trying to figure out what's going on. The dog immediately starts running around my heels barking its head off. Since pets aren't allowed in my apartment I try shushing it, then scoop it up and clamp its mouth shut. It thrashes wildly, but my only worry is not crushing it.

"What is it, dang dog?" I hiss and more muffled barks make it out of the dog's snout.

Wondering if some food might help it shut up I wearily carry it into the kitchen. Normally I would hurl it against the wall, but for some reason I'm feeling a little off. Then I walk into the living room and between the dogs barks I hear Izaya's labored breathing. Except, it's gotten worse.

I drop the dog, who starts running around the room like a crazy thing, and switch on the lights so I can get a better look at Izaya. He doesn't look very good. In fact, he looks pretty awful. I've seen people like this before…and they usually don't last long.

Without thinking I pick him and kick open the door to my apartment. If people feel like complaining then they can do it at their own risk.

I take him through the streets of Ikebukuro until I reach the building a certain underground doctor uses as his headquarters. I don't want anyone to know I'm taking care of Izaya, but I don't want the informant to die either.

I kick the door, not hard enough to kick it in this time, and yell, "SHINRA! CELTY! OPEN UP THIS DOOR BEFORE I DO IT FOR YOU!"

It doesn't take long for the door to fly open. A sleepy Shinra in his pajamas is standing in the doorway. Celty is standing behind him, curious to see why someone would wake them up in the middle of the night no doubt.

It doesn't take very long for Shinra to take the scene in and react. His mouth drops open and he starts stuttering. Celty rapidly types and shoves her PDA in my face.

[What did you do to Izaya? And why did you take him to us?]

Wait-they think I did this? And they don't understand why I want Izaya patched up, well to tell the truth, I don't understand either. But it's going to take too long to explain that now.

I brush their questions (and Celty's PDA) aside and shove past them into an apartment, slamming the door behind me.

"Can you help him?" I ask, still ignoring their questions.

Shinra looks a little taken aback. "Well…yes." Then he starts to wake up a little more. "Of course I can, Shizuo, who do you think you're dealing with?"

"Then do it, fast, before he dies," I exclaim shoving Izaya's limp body into his hands. Shinra manages to hold Izaya up before Celty takes over and between the two of them they manage to get Izaya into a medical room and started working on him.

I fell back onto the couch, relieved that it won't be my fault if Izaya dies or lives. I'm really not the kind of person you want your life to depend on in these kinds of situations.

The clock reads three o'clock and before I know it my eyes are closing and I'm fast asleep again.

I wake up to the alarm on my phone. I pull it out of my pocket and quickly switch it off. Time to go to work. I sit up and realize I'm on Shinra's couch. I'm in Shinra's house! I'm so shocked I roll right of the couch and land on the floor with a thud.

Izaya: By the way, she doesn't own Durarara or anything like that. Thank goodness. Look at the way she writes me, like a crazy psychopath.

Me: You are a crazy psychopath

Izaya: I prefer the term lover of humans

Me: I'm still gonnna go with Sociopath.

Shizuo: Shut up before I throw something!

*silence*

Me: anyway review, follow, just read it!

Izaya: and tell her not to write me as a crazy sociopath

*giant object flies threw the air*