Sorry about the wait for this chapter, my internet decided to go down for a few days. I hope you enjoy my longest chapter to date~
Just call me angel of the morning, Angel
Just touch my cheek before you lave me, darlin'
2020
Joe was in the hospital for a few days, Aiko at his side the whole time. Ken came by, asked a few questions, but Joe shook his head. He had been the one to bring such a dangerous person into his life, he was the one who had to deal with it.
"Police are here for a reason," Ken told him. Then he sighed. "If anything happens, come to the station and ask for me. I'll help you."
Then he laid a sad hand on Aiko's head. "We're still looking for the person who hurt your mom. We won't stop looking until we find him."
Aiko smiled, but he didn't seem reassured.
When Joe was released, the first thing he did, even before going to his apartment, was talk to his landlord about changing the locks. Aiko was hiding in his side, trying not to show his fear, as they walked inside. There was so sign of anyone inside, but Joe opened every door and looked in every room – even inside the closets and cabinets, as silly as that seemed. He didn't bother with dinner, the stench of the rotted rice still on the dining table filling the whole apartment, and Aiko didn't leave his side. Joe locked all the doors and windows, he closed his bedroom door and locked it behind him, and Aiko curled up on his bed, falling asleep quickly while Joe...
Joe stayed up all night, holding Aiko close, and jumping at every last noise and praying that Tomaru would stay away.
The next day, Aiko cried all morning, clinging to Joe. He didn't want the man to leave, not even for work, and Joe hated having to pry away those tiny arms. He hated having to reassure his son, over and over again, that he was coming home, that he wasn't going to end up like his mother.
"I promise," Joe said. "My shift ends at midnight. I'll call the moment I get off, ok? Stay home, and stay safe, and don't answer the door for anyone, ok?"
Aiko just cried more as he was tucked into Joe's bed, clinging to Sesame Seed until he fell asleep.
When Joe arrived at the JFCR, looking over his shoulder more than he looked in front of him, he was terrified to go to his office. He stood outside it for the longest time, the light in the hall flickering gently. His hands shook, and he considered just running back downstairs, hiding in the ER until his shift was over. But Ken had told him not to let fear take over, to not let Tomaru win.
There was an arrangement on his desk, like usual. Deep red blossoms that filled the whole space with the once-wonderful stench of roses. There was a card at the base of the vase, one just like the multitudes sitting in his drawer.
The fear was still there, but it vanished quickly under sudden fury. He grabbed the card and, without bothering to open it, ripped it in half. He threw it in the trash, not thinking before running around his desk to pull open the drawer and toss all the other ones he'd accumulated. He grabbed the flowers and dumped them in the hallway trashcan with an angry flourish.
"Looks like you're feeling better."
Joe jumped and spun around so fast he fell back against the wall. Brad was standing down the hall, a gentle smile on his lips.
"Hey, hey, it's ok, Joe." Brad approached and Joe sighed in relief. "You look like you saw a ghost. It sure feels like I'm seeing one."
"Brad, I... I'm sorry..." Joe shook his head. He glanced at the roses and made a face at them. "It's just my boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, now - he... he didn't like me talking to other people. But we're over. Completely over with."
"Good for you," Brad said with a nod. "It's like I haven't seen you in a year, not just a couple weeks. Welcome back."
Joe smiled, feeling calm and relieved for the first time in a long time. "Glad to be back."
He did the best he could to keep his hands from shaking all day, tried to act as though he wasn't terrified of every unknown person who walked behind him. Despite knowing he had to be strong, to not let himself be taken over by a fear he was all too used to, he spent the day hiding in the ER. He kept himself busy with minor surgeries and basic consults, taking care of patients he knew by symptom, not by name. He even found himself taking his lunch with Jiro, apologizing for something he couldn't remember doing just so he wouldn't be alone in the cafeteria.
At five till midnight, his phone began glowing like a beacon, Aiko calling over and over to make sure Joe was all right. Each call was answered quickly and reassuringly and as soon as he hung up, Aiko was calling again. Despite how tired the boy was, he was determined to have contact with his father until the man was safely in their apartment with every lock bolted shut.
Joe almost had a heart attack walking to his car when a flash of red passed him by. But it wasn't a sports car, just the oncology department head's new truck, washed and polished until it shone like a cherry. He gave a small wave, ignoring the driver's odd look and rushed into his own car, not feeling safe until he was flying down the street, a good fifteen miles over the speed limit.
When he got home, Joe took up the Welcome mat, tossing it just inside his door as Aiko wrapped himself around the man's waist. He had stopped crying that morning, but the absolute despair had yet to leave him any room to feel.
"Have you eaten?" Joe asked quietly as his own stomach rumbled.
Aiko fought back a yawn and shook his head. "I tried, but I threw up..."
"Me too," Joe admitted. He remembered Jiro's look when he had to run to the bathroom that afternoon, his lunch able to sit on the stress accumulating within him. "Why don't you make us some toast? I think we can handle that right about now."
Aiko looked unsure, but Joe tried to smile. Tried to reassure like he always had when he was young. He needed to make sure his son was safe – it was the only way he could handle everything.
The toast stayed down, just barely and with a lot of heaving from Joe, and the two once more curled up in the same bed, the door locked, and the only reason they slept at all was because they couldn't keep their eyes open.
The next day, there was another arrangement on his desk. Another card propped up next to it.
And again, Joe took the flowers and tossed it in the trash, ripping up the card without even opening it.
So it continued on, just like that. Summer vacation ended quickly and Aiko began third grade, leaving Joe content with the knowledge that at least his son would be safe for eight hours a day. The boy, already so smart, found comfort in the structure that was provided for him and, while shy and scared, he remained at the top of his class.
Each morning, Joe made Aiko breakfast and helped him with his last minute studying that kept them both preoccupied. He drove the boy to his elementary and dropped him off, waiting in his car and watching until Aiko was safely inside the school's doors. Every red car that passed him on the way to the hospital made him jump, and he got two tickets in a month for speeding, trying to escape someone who had been driving in the opposite direction.
Every day, there was another arrangement waiting on his desk, each one more grand and beautiful than the last. A new card placed at the base of the vase, mocking him with how easy it apparently was to break into his locked office. And every day, Joe ripped the card to shreds, tossing it into his trash. He carted the flowers to the dumpster out back each time, relishing in the sound of the glass shattering every morning. He always went to the hospital director afterward, trying to get new locks on his office door, or even trying to move offices all together.
"We don't have any empty offices," the old man would say. "It would be a hassle to move everyone around whenever someone has a breakup. Besides, don't think I haven't heard of your exploits in the nurse pool in oncology."
But I never stalked anyone I slept with, Joe would think. But he would just bow and apologize, and tell the director he would do his best to separate his personal and professional lives.
He stayed in the ER as much as he could, hiding amongst faceless patients, once again designated by symptom and not by name. He avoided his floor, returning only when he was paged and for only as long as he was required. He knew Tomaru knew the layout up there, but the bustle of a busy ER would confuse him and keep him away.
Cody, the youngest and most reserved of all the Children, had married a beautiful young woman named Layn, their ceremony small and almost overlooked. Just the way they liked it. He'd met her when he'd first begun college and married her after passing his bar exam, taking the long years to prefect a relationship into something that both needed. For Cody: a bright personality who appreciated every day and every life, and for Layn: a stoic rock that could be gentle when life became overwhelming. Cody quickly found work as a defense attorney and Layn took over her family's floral shop mostly as a way to pass the time.
It was enough to remind Joe of Shinjiro and Nana, they way the two doted on each other in ways only they understood. They had a daughter, a young thing named Tomoyo who was three years younger than Aiko, and the few times doctors and lawyers crossed paths, Joe did his best to catch up with the man.
So Joe hoped it wasn't improper of him to call Cody up, and ask the man to look after Aiko whenever he got out of school. The lawyer agreed so stoically, so coldly, that Layn had to steal the phone and laughingly explain that was just the way he was, and that they would be happy to have Aiko around until Joe got off work.
Aiko was nervous the first day, and Joe had to take off work early so he could spend time with Cody and Layn, to show Aiko that his old friends were ones to be trusted. Tomoyo, a bundle of energy at four, asked the boy a million questions, only being quieted when Layn gave her a small camera.
"The girl's going to make movies one day," Layn told Aiko with a warm wink as she showed him how to appease the child whenever she became too rambunctious. "And she'd going to make us all stars, I swear."
Joe ended up taking his lunches later and later in the day, putting off his breaks so that he could skip eating and spend the whole time on the phone with Aiko when he got out of school until he was picked up by Layn. Once the young mother reassured Joe that his son was safe, the doctor would finally allow himself to relax and attempt to eat.
He lost a lot of weight over the weeks, throwing up most of what he ate as stress tore his insides apart. The daily gifts of roses were doing nothing more than agitating what he was sure was becoming an ulcer, and he wanted nothing more than to take his son and run away, as far from Koto as he could, until Tomaru couldn't find him ever again. But he knew he couldn't take his son away from whatever normalcy he had found after his mother's murder.
"Detective Ichijouji said you should call him," Aiko said one day. He was picking at his dinner, only eating because he knew his father wasn't.
"About what?" Joe asked, not expecting an answer of his seven year old. He tapped his finger on his empty plate, having not even bothered to fill it. "I don't even know for sure Tomaru is watching us. The police can't go after a feeling – they need evidence."
Aiko just pouted, nibbling at his rice grain by grain until Joe decided they were done pretending to eat.
"Get ready for bed," Joe told the boy with a gentle smile. He tried his best to keep his own worries from interfering with Aiko's life, to keep from troubling the child any more than he needed to be. "I'll be there to tuck you in."
It had taken weeks before Aiko stopped sleeping in Joe's bed. The only thing that calmed the boy's nerves was installing a chain latch on the inside of his door and plugging in a motion-sensing nightlight. Even then, most nights Joe found himself with a young boy having crawled into his bed in the middle of the night, crying in his sleep.
But Aiko nodded, clearing his plate like he always did, and steeling himself for another night of terrifying dreams that were slowly becoming reality. His father watched, hating himself like he always did for putting the boy in so precarious a position, and as the night dragged on, he read Aiko a bedtime story – something light and warm, not inviting in the evils of the world they were now accustomed to.
"I miss reading Hamlet," Aiko murmured into Sesame Seed's dingy fur, eyes heavy. He knew he would only wake in a few hours from a nightmare, but for now he was content in his own bed. "I'm tired of Dr. Seuss..."
Joe just leaned over and kissed Aiko on the top of the head, brushing back his bangs. How he would have loved to go back to the plays, to enthrall his child with the tale of the Dane and his family horrors, but he didn't think that would be very appropriate.
"Soon," Joe promised. "Once we can both make it through the night at least once..."
He closed Aiko's door behind him, leaning against his with a heavy sigh. He could feel a sob building in his chest, tightening his lungs like an asthma attack, and he hurried to his own room before he could cry out and alarm his son. The boy was slowly beginning to process things, to get used to the way things were, and Joe didn't need to break that perilous hold on sanity Aiko was building. Joe sobbed into his pillow, not even removing his glasses first, arms wrapped around it like it was his only lifeline in the world. He tried to stay quiet, he tried to stop. He told himself over and over that if Aiko heard him, everything would fall apart again.
He sobbed until there was nothing left in him. He cried until his lungs ached and his eyes were dry. He threw the soaked pillow to the floor and fell back on his bed, wishing more than anything that his mind would just shut down and he would be able to black out for the night. He stared at his ceiling through wet, grimy lenses and waited for the dark nothingness of dreamless sleep to take him.
Only for his phone to buzz.
Joe looked at it warily. He'd long since blocked Tomaru's number, but he always wondered if the man would finally change phones – call from somewhere else again and again. But when he looked at the screen and read the name, he snatched it off the side table and answered it before he could find his voice.
"H-Hello?" came the other voice. The same voice he loved to hear, the one scarred by years of nicotine and rage.
"Matt..." Joe breathed. "Matt, what are you...?"
"I'm sorry it's so late," the other man said. Whispered, really. Like he was crouched somewhere, hiding. "I didn't wake you did I? You sound like shit."
"No, no, I -" Joe coughed and cleared the despair from his throat. "You just surprised me, is all. I haven't talked to you in..." How old was Aiko now? "In so long..."
"Yeah, Sora's got me under lock and chain nowadays," Matt laughed. Then coughed. There was the sound of plastic crumpling and then an annoyed groan. "Damnit, I promised I'd quit..."
"Matt, why?" Joe breathed. "Why did you...?" Call him? After dropping off the face of the planet for seven years, what made him suddenly reach out?
"Well I have been smoking since I was fourteen – don't tell my dad, he thought I started when I was seventeen – and I thought you'd be the first to tell me how dangerous smoking was." There was a shuffling noise on the other end as Joe continued to sit in stunned silence. "Damnit, I wish Sora's mother had bought a more comfortable couch..." Then the click of the lighter and a contented sigh. "I can always re-quit tomorrow. So, how have you been?"
"You, I just... uh..." Joe sputtered. He could barely process the words, much less come up with his own. He wanted to demand of Matt the truth, to be told everything from the day they were eleven including why he left and why he was calling now. Instead, he just said, "I'm fine. Just... fine."
"I'm glad, I really am." There was a pause, another drag. "Hey, Joe? I -"
"What's going on?" came another sleepy voice, tiny and thin through the speaker.
"Shit!" Matt hissed and there was a jumble of static. Then he spoke again, muffled and barely able to be understood. "It's nothing, Sora. Go back to sleep."
"What are you doing out here?" Sora's voice was almost completely distorted. "Come back to bed, Matt."
"I'll be there in a minute," Matt snapped.
"You said you quit last week, are you lying to me again? And you know I don't like it when I don't know where you are."
"For fuck's sake, Sora, I -" Matt took a deep breath and continued far too calmly, "Sora, I'll be in bed in a minute. Let me finish my cigarette first."
"Whatever."
And then Matt was back with a strained happiness. "Sorry. Sora gets snippy when I talk to anyone. You should hear her bitch when I call my dad. Look, Joe, I... I didn't mean to call up out of the blue. I should go and let you sleep."
"Matt?" Joe called, so soft he could barely hear himself.
"Yes, Joe?"
"I... I'm really glad you did call. I missed you." More than anything, he missed the man.
"I'll call you again," Matt promised. "Unless you don't want me to. I'd understand if you didn't."
"I do want you to!" Joe yelped. Then he worried Aiko would wake up and whispered, "I'm sorry. I, uh, I'm glad we can talk... ish."
"Yeah, 'ish'," Matt laughed. "I'm sure you heard the great dragon – I need to go back. I'll call you later, ok?" And with a click he was gone.
Joe hesitated before he set the phone back down. He finally took off his glasses and lay back on his lack of pillow. He closed his eyes and sighed. That night, his mind didn't race with fear, he didn't jump at every noise. Instead, he wrapped himself in the warmth of Matt's voice and the comfort of a love that might have once been.
"I swear," Joe sobbed. "I swear he was right behind me."
"It's ok," Brad called from the other side of the door.
It had been a few weeks since the phone call. There had only been one more, late enough at night to wake Joe from his fitful sleep. But he didn't mind, listening to the hushed, idle chatter that Matt had always used to cover up his true worries. It was enough to get him through, and Aiko could sense it, playing more with Tomoyo when he was at the Hida's, and no longer fearing every shadow. Even the daily floral arrangements had stopped showing up, and Joe was elated that Tomaru had finally moved on.
But that day, as Joe was called out of his office, he felt the familiar goosebumps that told him he was being watched. He looked around, but not even a janitor was there. So he pulled his coat closer to him and tried not to look like he was running toward the elevator.
He lost the gaze in the surgical ward, removing a brain tumor with ease despite his trembling hands. He had cleaned up and removed his smock, determined to get some lunch and call Aiko to see how the boy was doing.
But it came back. He looked over his shoulders constantly, running into a few nurses on his way to the cafeteria. He skipped the elevator so he could run down the stairs and when he emerged, he saw him.
Black hair curled around blue eyes that were glaring directly into his soul.
It made Joe's stomach churn violently and he ducked into a supply closet before he could throw up. He shoved an EKG machine in front of the door and hid in the shadows, covering his head and crying into his knees. He knew it was pathetic, how ridiculous it must have looked. So when Brad knocked on the closet door, calling his name softly, Joe felt guilt overwhelm him.
"Come on out, Joe," Brad said for the third time. "He's not here. Hell, from what I've heard, he hasn't been to work in months. If he has shown up, it's only been to pick up his last check."
"Because he's always behind me!" Joe yelped. "For the longest time I thought it was nothing, but I know it now!"
"Can't you go to the police?" Brad asked and Joe kicked the EKG machine in a rage.
"For what? He hasn't done anything!"
"There has to be a law against stalking," Brad tried. "Don't you have a cop friend who can help you out?"
"I, I dunno..." Joe breathed. "I don't think I should bother him with my problems."
"'Bother him'? This is his job – what if Tomaru goes after Aiko next? You have to!"
"Aiko..." Tomaru had seemed so uninterested in the boy, that Joe hadn't even thought that something might happen to him. He wiped his eyes on his coat sleeves and moved the machine away from the door. He didn't look at Brad as he emerged, embarrassed to be seen in such a state. "I'll go to the station when I get off work..."
Brad tried not to make a face. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was close.
It was Aiko's second time in the police station, and he still wasn't used to the hustle and bustle. Each phone that rang, each shout from a person in handcuffs all made him jump. He was holding Joe's hand tightly, getting squeezed back comfortingly. He looked around, trying to find the familiar man with long blue hair that had always been so nice to him.
"Excuse me," Joe asked an older officer sitting at a desk, nameplate in front of him reading Ryuzaki. "Is Detective Ichijouji here?"
The man eyed him with a tired look. His hair was graying, and the creases around his eyes and mouth deepened as he sighed. "He's out right now. Did you need help?"
Joe pulled Aiko close, putting a hand on the boy's head as much to comfort him as himself. Ken had said to ask for him, but certainly any police officer would be able to help. "I... I need to file a stalking report."
Ryuzaki waved the pair to sit at his desk, leaning over to smile gently at Aiko. "It's ok, son. Just tell me all about who's bothering you."
"A-actually," Joe said with a blush as Aiko shrunk away, still looking around for Ken or Natalie. "I'm the one being followed. It's my ex-boyfriend, I'm seeing him everywhere."
"I... see..." Ryuzaki paused for a moment too long, and Joe realized that he should have waited for Ken to come back. The officer sat back in his chair with a lazy stretch. "Look, I don't know how those types of relationships work, but I'm sure it's nothing. Men are supposed to be persistent, aren't they? That's how... this happened, didn't it?" Ryuzaki waved his hand to encompass Joe as a "this". "Just give him some time to back off."
"It's been months!" Joe yelped. "I haven't been able to sleep, my son has nightmares, and -"
"Look," Ruyzaki said, digging in his desk to find a file that he quickly hid behind. "Has your ex... friend... hurt you since you 'broke up'?" Joe shook his head, biting his lip to keep frustrated tears from escaping. "Well, then it's not really a police matter, now is it?"
"Isn't there anything you can do?" Joe pleaded.
"Look here, I've got murders to investigate," Ryuzaki snapped, throwing the folder down. Joe quickly turned Aiko away from the bloody photos that spilled out. "Ok? Rapes, assaults – real crimes. Be a man and take care of your own problems. Don't teach the boy here how to be a sissy."
"That's not fair!" Aiko cried out, trying to escape Joe's side where he'd been buried. "Detective Ichijouji said that you could help my dad!"
"When I see him, I'll let him know you stopped by," Ryuzaki said with a roll of his eyes. "Now, do you have a real crime you need to report?"
"Thank you for your time," Joe mumbled as he stood. Aiko tried to turn to the officer, to berate like his mother would have, but Joe hushed him as they left the station. "He's right. This is my fault, and I dragged you into it."
"Dad..." Aiko sniffled and Joe set his hand on his head, brushing back his bangs.
"I'll take care of it. I promise."
Neither of them truly believed it.
The first time after visiting the police that Joe saw a red sports car behind him, he almost crashed. He'd been driving to Cody's house on the other end of Odaiba to pick up Aiko, when it had turned behind him. He hadn't noticed, at first, but the flash of color behind him made him freeze, grip the steering wheel so tightly that his hands ached for hours afterward. He pulled over quickly, acting as though he was about to get out at what he later realized was a closed bookstore, only for the other car to drive harmlessly past him.
But that didn't stop Joe from shaking, from wrapping his arms around himself and just breathing. He didn't realize how long he'd been there, how much he'd been crying, until his phone rang, Aiko asking worriedly if he was ok.
"I'm fine," he comforted, though he knew Aiko could hear the sob in his voice. "I just had to stop for a minute. I'm on my way, though."
Cody didn't ask when Joe came by, the man would never pry. But Layn was a different matter.
"Are you ok?" she asked, the moment he pulled into their driveway. Tomoyo was sitting on her hip, Hello Kitty video camera shoved in her mother's ear. "Aiko was very upset, and he wouldn't tell me."
"It's ok," Joe told her as Aiko ran from the front door. He shoved past Layn as politely as possible and threw himself into his father's side, shuddering with sobs.
"That doesn't look 'ok' to me," Layn grumbled.
"Aiko's sad," Tomoyo agreed. She held out her precious camera to the boy, hoping to comfort her older friend. "Don't be sad..."
"We'll make it," Joe reassured. Aiko shook his head sullenly at Tomoyo's offering and she snatched it back happily. "I can't thank you enough for watching Aiko."
"He keeps Tomoyo out of my hair at the store," Layn said with a small smile. As much as she loved Aiko, she didn't feel it her place to demand answers from the tired man. "So, you know, keep him safe for me. I'll need my favorite babysitter for a while longer."
"Thanks," Joe murmured as he helped Aiko get buckled. "I appreciate everything you've been doing for us, Layn."
"Don't say it like that's the last thing I'm going to hear out of you," Layn tried to joke.
But Joe just waved, pulling out of the driveway and back onto the street.
"Are you ok, Dad?" the boy asked, watching his father constantly glancing in his mirrors. "... Dad?"
"I thought..." Joe bit his lip. He didn't want to worry Aiko, but he didn't want to keep the boy in the dark. Not if it meant there was a possibility he could be hurt. "I thought I saw him earlier. On my way to get you."
"It wasn't, was it?" Aiko pleaded.
"No," Joe said firmly. "No, I..." Don't think it was... Joe swallowed hard and knew the only thing that would make them feel safe again. "When we get home, I'll have the landlord change our locks again."
That night, before falling into bed, he dug in the depths of his closet. An old, almost rotted bag was buried in the back, "Mikami Canyon Summer Camp" still embroidered on the edge of the flap. The scent of the Digital World clung to the fabric, and he grabbed the treasure still within.
He put the pocket knife in his pants, knowing he would never have the courage to use it. It was old and probably completely rusted closed, but its mere presence was comforting.
Aiko's grades began falling after that. Joe tried to tell the teachers that the boy just needed adjustment. That he was still distraught over the death of his mother. Some teachers understood, told him that they could schedule meetings with the school counselor. Some just told him that he needed to reign in his son, that such potential shouldn't be allowed to go to waste. Those were the classes that Aiko worked hardest in even though Joe told him to blow them off.
"If I'm nicest to the ones that don't like me," Aiko explained as he worked on his extra credit work one night, "then they'll be the most impressed."
"Just don't make your whole life about school, ok?" Joe pleaded. He still had nightmares about his own father.
"But I like school," Aiko insisted. "It's fun, and I feel safe there."
"Make sure you take a break," Joe told him.
But as long as Aiko was happy, Joe was happy. And he tried to follow his son's example. Work became his lifeline, his only saving grace. He stuck close to Brad as he did his rounds, made sure that his office was empty every time he entered. The flowers were still coming, but now the petals drooped, the leaves falling in a giant mess everywhere. There were no more cards, but Joe began to notice that his books were getting rearranged, the items on his desk moved around.
"Tomaru's never messed with my stuff before," Joe told Brad as the pair inspected every last inch of the office as part of their daily ritual. "And all these flowers are... dead."
"Maybe he's just getting cheap," Brad offered. "It could be a sign he's getting tired of all this."
"I hope so," Joe sighed, sitting in his chair after inspecting it for tacks or needles. He'd been watching a lot of cop shows in the break room lately, and he wasn't sure it was helping his paranoia. "I'll be glad when he decides I'm not worth it anymore."
"That can't come soon enough." Brad looked at his watch. "Don't you have a surgery scheduled?"
"Yeah, a little girl with a brain tumor." Joe opened his desk. The little, rusty seal he usually had stashed inside was missing. "Her parents were terrified of her dying on the table, but we finally convinced them this was for the better. She'll be ready in about an hour." He looked around the floor, hoping it had just fallen out.
"Everything looks mostly in order here – no men hiding in the shadows at least." Brad gave a twisted smile as Joe snorted. "I'm heading back down to the ER then. See you at lunch?"
"Only if Jiro decides not to talk my ear off again." Joe sighed and swiveled around in his chair. "Remind me why I decided to make up with him, again?"
"Because you're a nervous wreck who needs someone to keep an eye on him."
"That's right..." Still no sign of his seal. Now that he was talking to Matt again, it felt wrong to not have it with him. "Get going, then, and I'll weasel out of eating with Jiro somehow."
And then Brad was gone, leaving him alone – gloriously alone – in his office. Joe spared a glance to the dead roses that had been dumped in his trash and sighed wearily. Hopefully, he thought as he stood, Brad was right, and this would be the end of all of it.
The parents were still in their daughter's room, doting on the child even as Joe approached. The girl, a seven year old named Nanako Masami, gave a scared smile.
"I'm Dr. Kido," Joe introduced himself. "I'm the head surgeon at this hospital, and I wanted to reassure you that Nanako is in very good hands."
"I know we already signed the release," the mother said, holding her daughter's hand tightly. "But I'm still worried. My brother, he died during surgery, you know."
"I remember you telling me, but I still insist that you let Nanako go through with this. Once we get the tumor out, and she goes through Chemo, Nanako will be a perfectly happy little girl." Joe smiled at the girl, and she looked to her mother. "Don't you want to go out and play with your friends again?"
"I want to, Mommy," Nanako urged. "I miss Negima and Toni..."
The mother wiped her eyes and nodded. "I understand. You be good for Mommy, ok, sweetie?And once you're out, we'll be right there waiting for you."
"I love you."
"We love you too, sweetheart."
Joe smiled at the tender display. "The nurses will be here in just a moment to prep Nanako. There's a cafeteria on the first floor, if you think you can eat something."
"No," the father said as his wife collapsed into him, shaking. "We can wait."
Joe smiled and stepped out of the room as Jiro walked in, an assuring smile on his face. The tall man took a breath to steady himself as he made his way to the surgical floor. He had to control the shaking in his hands as he scrubbed down. Removing a tumor from the brain stem was incredibly dangerous, as any wrong move and he would destroy her body's ability to breathe and regulate her heartbeat.
It'll be fine, he told himself. I've done operations like this hundreds of times, nothing is going to go wrong.
Jiro was already there, holding Nanako's hand as she was anesthetized, falling into a deep sleep. "Are you ready, doctor?"
It really was nice to have Jiro off his back. To not have that little snarky glare every time he asked for an instrument. To have such soothing conversation instead of the bitter attitude he was used to.
The surgery progressed wonderfully, and Joe was thankful the years of med school had dulled his nausea at the sight of blood. His hands didn't shake at all as he cut into Nanako's young brain, finding the mass that was pressing against her skull and causing her partial paralysis. He smiled behind his mask as he gently scraped away the tumor, knowing every precise flick of the scalpel was making her life longer and better.
"We're almost done," Joe announced, smiling behind his mask. There was only a small section left, clinging desperately to the terrifyingly important white stem. He raised his scalpel and took a calming breath.
"Hey, Joe," Jiro asked suddenly, and Joe wanted to curse. Didn't the man realize how important it was for him to focus? "Did you send the parents down to eat?"
"I offered," Joe murmured, focusing on the last few cuts. "They said they would wait."
"Huh. I guess that's the dad out there, then."
Joe flicked his eyes up, spying just over the rim of his glasses. The man standing just outside the door could have been Nanako's father. He was tall with dark hair and... blue... eyes...
Joe grit his teeth as the figure leaned in close, leering through the small window. It was Tomaru! It had to be!
"No," Joe whispered to himself, low enough that Jiro couldn't hear him. "It can't be..."
"Did you say something?" Jiro asked, concerned. Joe was sweating suddenly, hands trembling.
"N... Nothing!" Joe screwed his eyes shut tightly. He took a shuddering breath and peeked through his glasses after a moment. Tomaru was gone, but the damage was done. Joe's shaking was getting uncontrollable, the bile rising in his throat. He couldn't leave Nanako like this, there was noone else around to finish the removal!
"Doctor?" Jiro pressed. "What's the matter?"
"I'm fine," Joe gasped. All the nurses were looking amongst themselves, worried about their surgeon. "I'm fine. I just need to finish Nanako's operation. Then she can go back to playing with Negima and Tori..." He grabbed his wrist with his other hand, steadying the scalpel in his bloody glove. "Just a little more..."
"Be careful," Jiro warned, watching the blade descend into an open skull.
The sharp edge scraped against the brain stem, every eye on the monitors hooked into the seven year old. Joe breathed out, exhaling as slowly as he slid the scalpel. The tumor was coming clean, and his every thought was of Nanako, happily enjoying the rest of her long life. Of going to school and meeting her friends again, of debating between high schools and jobs. Fighting with her parents over the person she would date and eventually marry.
Of how horribly that could go. Of blue eyes that would watch her everywhere she went. Of a love so strong that it turned into obsession.
"BP's falling!" Jiro yelped and Joe blinked into reality. Blood was pouring over his hands, making his gloves too slippery to hold the scalpel. Nanako's tiny body was beginning to jerk. "She's flatlining!"
Joe stared blankly, unable to understand what was happening. Nurses rushed around, shoving him out of the way when he refused to move. There was the shrill shriek of the EKG machine, a zap and a thump.
"She's not coming back," someone said. "Try her again!"
Another zap and a thump.
"Godamnit, Joe!" Jiro was yelling as they zapped Nanako again. "What the hell happened?!"
"I... I..." Joe looked to the window, where Tomaru had been standing. Watching. "I was trying to..."
"You cut into her brain stem!" Jiro accused. "She can't beat her own heart because of you!"
"But I, I couldn't..." Had Tomaru even been there? Now he had no idea if what he'd seen had been the man or only a shadow of his own mind. "I didn't mean to..."
"Get out of the way!" Jiro snarled, shoving Joe aside. He grabbed an airbag, forcing Nanako's lungs to breathe as she could no longer command them to on her own. Joe stumbled backwards, almost collapsing against the far wall, looking to his bloody gloves. He could hear the commotion around him, but he couldn't even begin to process it. He had the scalpel in his fingers, he was doing so well...
He slid down, collapsing into himself as he listened to Jiro shout orders. He should have had Brad come in, called Midori to watch, had anyone else come in to make sure he didn't freak out like he always did. And now, because of his own inability to do anything properly, a little girl had died at his own hand.
"Get up," Jiro said after almost an hour. He kicked Joe in the side harshly, ignoring the tears flowing down the stunned man's face. "We need a doctor to call her."
"C... Call?" Joe looked up as Jiro rolled his eyes. He shook his head, listening to the steady hum of a flat line. "Nanako...?" He sat up, smearing the child's blood on the wall as he stood. "Time of death is... 18:43..."
"Thanks," Jiro spat, turning away in disgust. He'd never been so upset with the doctor, not even when they'd gone out. He looked to the nurses, telling them, "Let's get her cleaned up and to the morgue. Dr. Kido can go inform the parents of what happened."
Joe's face was red long after his shift ended. The pain throbbing in his cheek from Nanako's mother slapping him hurt worse than being pulled into the director's office as he was clocking out.
"It's soon," the director said solemnly, sitting behind his desk as Joe stood awkwardly. "But the mother of the young girl you lost today, Temari Masami, has already informed us that she's called her lawyer. We know you're an asset to the JFCR, but a Nurse... Jiro Hasano has told us that you've been distracted lately. We should have done this sooner, but until this is all straightened out, I'm afraid we have no choice. Dr. Kido, you're hereby suspended until further notice." He blinked, looking up from his computer screen for the first time. "Make sure you take care of that bruise on your cheek."
"Take care of that. I don't need anyone asking questions."
"Yes, sir," Joe mumbled to the director, to his father, as he bowed deeply. He wished he'd just been fired, anything to make the guilt weighing down on him lessen. Nanako wasn't the first patent he'd lost, but she was the youngest, and the first because of his own inability to control his personal life. If he'd only been able to get rid of Tomaru sooner... "I assume you'll keep in touch?"
"The hospital attorney will contact you with any further information."
Joe could see Brad waiting for him, but he hurried past. Jiro was back at the nurse's station, once more ignoring the man as he passed by. He almost wished Tomaru would be waiting in the parking garage for him, waiting to... do what exactly? Poison him again? Chase him down until he collapsed from exhaustion?
With no one waiting at his car, Joe punched the hood as hard as he could, screaming as all his knuckles popped.
"You son of a bitch, Tomaru!" Joe cried, collapsing into the dent he made. "What the hell is all this for...?"
The phone in his pocket vibrated, clicking eerily against his old pocketknife. He reached in with a trembling hand, seeing the blood that still stained the wrist of his shirt. It was Aiko, calling to make sure Joe was still coming to get him.
"I'll be there," Joe promised, voice echoing in the garage. "I just got held up a little by the director. I promise, I'm on my way."
The child's voice was shaking, and Joe suddenly couldn't blame him. He was just as terrified of every shadow, of every twitch all around him. He climbed slowly into his car, after checking the back seat and even the trunk. Even now, he couldn't be sure he'd seen Tomaru in that window. The man had been fired months ago for abandoning his job – he hadn't been seen around the hospital in forever! So why would he come back that day? How would he know where to find Joe? And why would he show up, only to do nothing but look?
Even Cody looked concerned as Joe pulled up. Layn invited them in for tea, but Joe shook his head. "I have to tell Aiko something, and I need to be home to do it."
Aiko looked ready to cry at those words, and Joe couldn't even reach out to comfort the boy. He just helped him buckle in, like always, and waved goodbye to Layn and Tomoyo as they watched him drive away.
"Is... Is it about Mommy?" Aiko asked softly as they drove.
"No." Joe shook his head. "I wish there was something about her. But, today..." Joe bit his lip, wondering how to tell his son he'd killed a little girl because of a fear he should have never let into his life in the first place. "Today I did something bad. And I might lose my job over it."
"What happened?" Aiko pressed. They passed through the gate of their complex.
"There was a little girl, your age, and she came in very sick. I was supposed to help her, but I..." Joe parked and took a shuddering breath. "I made a mistake and her mother is, well, she... I've been suspended. I might not be able to go back to the JFCR after this."
"It's ok, Dad," Aiko said. "It's because of him, isn't it?"
Joe paused. Then he nodded. It wouldn't do to hide it from Aiko. "He was there, I know he was. And I... I don't think he's going away. I'm sorry that I dragged you into this..."
"I'm not," Aiko said softly and Joe looked over at him. The boy was looking to his hands, a scared smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I don't like Tomaru, but with Mommy gone, I'm glad I got to be with you."
Joe reached out, pulling Aiko close and hugging him tightly. The boy was trembling, shaking like a leaf in his father's embrace. "I'll keep you safe," Joe promised. "I told Nana I would."
"Thanks, Dad," Aiko sniffled. He clung tighter for a moment as Joe pulled away, finally letting go of the man's shirt.
"They should have finished changing the locks by now," Joe said as he helped his son out of his seat. "I'll grab the new keys, and we can go home get some rest."
Aiko lingered in the lobby, watching as the manager gave Joe his fifth set of keys in as many weeks. He hated the way the woman glared behind the desk, telling Joe sternly, "We can't keep changing the locks every other day. This needs to get under control."
"I understand," Joe grumbled. He just wished he knew how to get Tomaru under control. "I'll do my best."
Aiko held his father's hand the whole way up to their apartment, knowing Joe needed the comfort. Joe fidgeted with the new keys in his pocket, feeling the folded up knife clinking against them. It was a reassuring weight, even if he had no idea why it was there. He knew he would never have the courage to do anything with it.
I'll just put it away. Put it in a drawer, or something.
"Dad, what's that?"
Joe blinked, pulling his hand away from the pocketknife. Aiko had stopped walking and was pointing to their door. There was a small binder propped up next to the frame and an oddly familiar pile of rusty clock parts scattered on the floor. Joe swallowed hard, motioning for the boy to stay put as he steeled his own nerves. He dragged his feet as he approached, telling himself that it was nothing. A package for a neighbor left at his door, surely.
The tiny flipper of a mechanical seal crunched under his foot, the familiar part no longer attached to what used to be its carefully constructed body. Joe reached out and took the binder, opening to reveal its true purpose as a photo album.
Filled with nothing but pictures of him.
The first pages were most recent, images of him at lunch with Jiro. Walking the hallways with Brad. Even showing Mirodi around the recently refurnished children's ward. And the further the pages went back, so did the pictures. Not quite halfway through, he recognized it as the first day Tomaru had approached him. And before that...
There were pictures of him while he was still in med school. From before he'd been kicked out of his father's house! Joe's hands were shaking as he flipped the pages, looking at himself from behind windows, through tree branches, across crowds. His face circled in thick red marker, every other person blacked out, scratched through, cut away. Even his copy of Aiko's sonogram had been graffitied, ripped apart and scribbled over in angry Sharpie.
And the last page, the very last image in the whole, twisted album, was his copy of the Chosen Children's last day in the Digital World, gathered in Primary Village as the whole world around them came back to life. Each face had been meticulously destroyed, through scratching, cutting, and marker – even those of the Digimon at their sides. The only one left untouched was his own, a single shocked expression amidst a sea of horror.
Joe felt his stomach churn and he dropped the terrifying album to his feet with a crash. This was more than just an upset boyfriend. This was more than just a man who wanted to get back together. This was a monster who had followed him for years, building up to the exact persona Joe would have fallen for.
The man shrunk away from his apartment. He wanted to run away but knew he couldn't. After all this time, after all this effort, Tomaru would never just give up. He would follow Joe until one or both of them were dead. He swallowed hard and grabbed Aiko's shoulders harshly, whispering to the boy, "Take my cell phone and go to the lobby. Call the police – tell them to get here as soon as they can, do you understand?"
"What about you, Dad?" Aiko whimpered. He had seen the binder, but he didn't know its contents. Only the look of increasing horror that flashed across his father's face.
"I'm going to end this. Somehow, gods help me, I'm going to end this." And with that, Joe turned his son around and shoved him back toward the elevator. Hopefully, whatever happened, the boy would be safe.
Joe took a deep breath, trying to calm frazzled nerves. His hands trembled as he moved his key to the lock, only just noticing the old bronze that didn't match his new silver. Tomaru must have found a way to get one of his old locks placed back in. And he'd left it open, Joe discovered as he twisted the knob. His heart was racing, and he fought back the impending asthma attack.
Tomaru was sitting on his couch in the living room, rubbing one eye like a sleepy child.
"Oh, Joe, hello," he greeted, as though it was expected of an ex to be camped out in a once-locked apartment. He moved his hand to fiddle with something in his lap, blinking up at Joe with one blue eye and one brown. "These contacts are hell on my eyes."
"What are you doing here?" Joe demanded. He wasn't at all surprised that the man had changed his physical appearance to tempt Joe.
"Waiting for you, of course," Tomaru laughed. He looked around, the double color of his eyes disconcerting. "Is Aiko around? I wanted him to be here for this too."
"F-For what?" Joe cursed himself for stuttering as Tomaru's grin widened, the scars on his lips stretching his flesh terrifyingly. The man knew he had Joe frightened, and he was enjoying it.
"For our wedding, dummy." Tomaru opened his contact case and with disgusting ease, pulled his eyelid up and out and slid the blue film into place. He blinked a few times and grabbed the papers on the coffee table. "I've been watching you lately, and I think our problem is that we're not spending enough time together."
Joe closed the door behind him softly, leaving it cracked just enough that anyone could burst in.
"You've just been so busy with work, you know? And you never take vacation, even though I told you to, so I thought this would be the easiest way to keep you home."
"So I did see you," Joe murmured and Tomaru snickered.
"Of course you did. It's so easy to get past that slut Jiro without my contacts in and my hair unbrushed – he never once noticed me walk in front of his face. I did have to find some way to get you all those flowers, after all."
Tomaru frowned suddenly, wagging his finger at Joe who had slunk his way to the living room. "And I saw what you did to all of them – those were very expensive arrangements by the way. But don't worry, after what you did to Nanako, the JFCR won't let you back in. Who wants a butterfingers surgeon anyway, right? And then I can make you my little house husband like you were always meant to be and you'll learn the value of my yen."
"And if I don't want to be your husband?"
Tomaru threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so hard he shook and almost fell off the couch. "What you want? Damnit, Joe, don't you know that what you want is what I want?" He grinned dreamily, whispering to himself. "To own a god... How perfect it will be..."
"I won't let you own me," Joe said as simply as he could.
"Of course you will," Tomaru said absently, waving his hand. "And once I get rid of Aiko, you won't have anyone left to give all that attention to, so I'll be the only one left for you to love."
"Leave Aiko alone," Joe growled, and Tomaru finally looked over at him with those fake blue eyes. "I won't let you touch him!"
"You will if I tell you to," Tomaru said simply. When Joe didn't back down, he finally frowned, a dark look crossing his face. "Oh, you're serious, aren't you?" He stood, toweringly tall, and Joe shrunk back as thoughts of his father flashed before his eyes. Tomaru raised one hand, clenched into a fist, and snarled, "I'm going to have to teach you how to behave, won't I?"
Joe flinched, reaching into his pocket. The knife was quickly in his hands, blade sliding out with ease.
"What the fuck is that?" Tomaru laughed, sneering at the pathetic weapon. Joe swallowed hard and held it up, grasping it firmly in both fists. "What are you gonna do, poke me? Put that down."
The tone was so familiar, so ingrained into Joe's very being, that he almost did what he was told. He lowered the blade with shaking hands and cast his eyes to the floor.
Maybe, he thought desperately, if I just do what he says, he'll leave Aiko alone. Maybe this is the only thing I can do with my life. He's right, after all. The hospital won't take me back after how I fucked up with Nanako, and no one else will hire me either...
The pocketknife fell and Tomaru tsked angrily. "You were really going to use that, weren't you?" Joe nodded hesitantly. "Come here. Now."
Joe's feet refused to move and Tomaru approached with an irritated sigh. He reached out, taking Joe's cheek in his hand. "You're a fucking dumbass, you realize?" Tomaru hissed with a gentle caress. "But, I understand now that you've been on your own for too long – you're too independent. I can't have that in a husband. So let's begin retraining you."
The hand suddenly wrapped around Joe's throat and the tall man gagged. He reached out to clutch at Tomaru's arm, but he just squeezed tighter. Joe jerked back, but Tomaru's grip was too firm. His body was weak, so constantly stressed combined with being unable to eat anything, and he was ready to give up completely.
"Or maybe," Tomaru was saying, using his other hand to add too much pressure. "You're just too set in your ways. Maybe I should keep Aiko around – he's young enough to mold into what I want..."
Aiko...?
"That sounds good. I think once I'm done with you here, I'll go visit your friend Cody and pick him up. How long will it take for me to convince him that Aiko needs to go with me, hm? Then I just have the little brat cut off all contact, and he's all mine, just like you were supposed to be."
"N... No..." Joe gasped. He could feel his throat being crushed, just like once long before. "Not... Not Aiko..."
"Like you're going to give a shit in a minute," Tomaru spat. He shook Joe and tossed him to the floor. "Now you just stay still and play dead, got it? I think I'll take your car – it'll be easier to pull up to their house, that way."
The dark haired man leaned down, reaching out to rummage through Joe's pockets. The doctor's chest was heaving, trying to keep from blacking out, and he grabbed the closest thing, lashing out.
Tomaru yelped at the pocketknife sliced into his thigh and he jumped back. Blood splashed on the carpet and he snarled, "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Joe rubbed his throat, holding up the tiny blade. He couldn't see right, and his arm was swaying, but he knew he had to. He pulled himself to his feet, and growled hoarsely "St... Stay away from Aiko..."
"Get out of my goddamn way!" Tomaru pulled his fist back, screaming, "I'll kill you first!"
There was a spray of wet, hot, stickiness, and Joe felt the knife slip from his grip. Tomaru blinked at Joe, then at the gaping hole in his stomach that was spewing blood freely. His mouth gaped, the pain not quite reaching him and he sat back on the couch heavily as the front door flew open.
"Police! Everyone down!"
Joe's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed, fading away to Ken's horrified voice crying out, "Joe! Damnit, I told you to come to me first!"