A/N: Prompt from Droite. Thanks^_^

Sorry this is a little late. I'm tired.

14

Bittersweet

IV stares at the variety of choices for a long time; longer than he cares to admit. The colors eventually begin to blur into a big, insignificant canvas that makes him dizzy and a little scared. Swallowing, he pays for a bouquet that he close-to-randomly selected in an attempt to get the hell out of there as fast as possible. When he is outside on the concrete sidewalk, cars driving past and people walking by swirling incoherently in his vision, he freezes.

For a moment, thoughts like What am I even doing...? and Can I really do this? flood his mind in a forceful tide of anxiety and guilt. But he clears his head as best as he can, shaking it harshly and touching the bandages which cover half his skull to assist in healing the gash on his wounded eye. That does it. That frees him for a second.

And that brief time of freedom doesn't last too long, but it's enough to get himself to the Burn Unit at the hospital. It's enough for him to ask the room number and it is enough for him to lock his body in the elevator and press the button with a shaking, unoccupied hand.

It gets tricky, however, when the adrenaline of feeling the cloth against what will one day be a scar wears thin and the flowers nearly slip from his grasp.

IV stands there awkwardly when the door slides open, a gaping entryway into the hall that leads to the metal slab he needs to eventually step through. Taking measured, deep breaths, he picks his way around the corner and he thinks he is doing fairy well until the chiseled 205 comes into view and he can't move again.

He feels like he's a child once more, clutching III's hand as bravely as he can and watching V stalk down the street into the night air, abandoning them. Like the tiny boy whose father manipulated him into hurting this girl who did nothing wrong. Like the helpless kid who has lost his best friend at the same time the fire ignited, the one who can only see out of one eye temporarily and who bought these crappy plants as an apology that will only be discarded along with a slap to his face - -

He takes his own advice and slaps himself in the face to wake the hell up.

Then IV steadies the unhealthy rate of his pounding heart and inhales sharply, twisting the handle and going inside.

She's asleep, but that's alright. Her visitor notes the bandages (like his own) that crawl up her body and cringes slightly before creeping to the sink off the side, filling a plastic cup he finds in a cupboard. He sets it on her nightstand and places the flowers - blue and pink, he sees, he hadn't even bothered to look properly - in the water. IV then takes a stride backwards, ignoring the bitter taste in his mouth as he nods once and leaves the facility.

.

.

"Ouch," he hisses, flinching away from her outstretched hands. "The heck, are you trying to kill me?"

That stings more than she allows her face to express as she replaces the gauze wrapped around his abdomen and arms. Instead of apologizing for the thousandth time, she merely tells him, "Please stop squirming."

And that's when Thomas obviously realizes that something is wrong - be it the tone of her voice or the fact that she said the please word so timidly - and he frowns deeply at her. "Rio...?"

She ducks her head, gaze downcast with her blue bangs falling in front of her pink eyes.

They are sitting in a doctor's office, there for what will be one of the weekly checkups Thomas will require for the next twenty-one days. Rio figured she owed him a few drop-by's at the paramedics' but now she is not so sure she wants to be here. The stark white walls seem to be closing in, suffocating her while the young man appears to be fine. So she bites her tongue and continues to cover his skin with the pale dressing, directing her line of sight away from the bruises and cuts.

Thomas's Duel with Ryouga - Nasch at the time - had left him beaten. His heavy clothing hid the damage astoundingly well and only now did the severity of the aftereffects really sink in.

Rio sinks back into her seat once she is done and watches blankly as her (can she call him a comrade now? is it right?) shoulders back on the layered jackets that complete his cream and golden attire. He blinks up at her when he catches her looking and grins sheepishly, then knits his eyebrows, concerned when she doesn't offer a reaction.

(There is a bitter taste rising up her throat.)

"Che," Thomas sighs, smirking to himself absentmindedly. He recalls fighting what he named 'the only one he calls a friend' and slamming against the tar and dipping into a comfortable darkness and never waking up and then waking up and his brothers taking him home and watching as the Kamishiro's are revived and smiling at Ryouga and smiling again at Rio who grimaces back with tears clinging to her lashes. He laughs mentally, a terrible sentence passing through his mind /I guess we're even now, neh?/ and he wants to hit his own wounds as self punishment for that sour idea.

Rio raises her gaze at that noise and waits patiently, shivering a bit.

He shuts his eyes and tilts his head, reaching up to touch his scar with his index and middle finger. She gasps silently, clenching her jaw, and he smiles real wide at her, exactly like the first time they had met after the war ended. "It hurts, huh? Seeing someone you care for in a place like this...? But Rio...none of what happened is in any way your fault. You did nothing bad. We'll get through this, just like last time" in the fire dies on his lips "and we'll heal."

(That bitter taste seems to fade, and all she can think is how sweet he is.)

~Finish~