Found

Characters: Penguin, Shachi. Rating: K+. Warnings: None

Penguin opened his eyes into darkness. There was the sound of a quiet, methodical beep in the background, slow and steady, and somewhere a soft echoing thumping rhythm that sounded familiar.

Most obvious, however, was the warm air on his left cheek, fluctuating almost regularly. It was accompanied by a familiar sound, a light inhale and exhale of air, informing Penguin that he wasn't alone. In the darkness he couldn't see who it was, but even if he didn't recognise the breathing, there was only ever one person who shared his bed uninvited.

Usually, knowing that Shachi was there was enough for Penguin, and he'd contentedly leave the younger to sleep. But his breathing wasn't quite steady, the smallest hint of panic detectable in the offset breaths. Penguin thought he knew why, and after his too-close brush with death, he didn't want to be alone, either.

"Shachi?" he called, his voice small and weak in the darkness. He tried to move his arm, hand questing for Shachi's shoulder, but sharp pain reminded him why he was in the infirmary and his fingers jerked to a halt, just lightly brushing against part of a body that wasn't his.

He'd almost died.

Gods, he'd almost died. He'd been there, right there, with his parents, looking down on his own body. His breathing stuttered, chest lurching as reality set in. He'd almost died, he'd died, he had been dead-

"Penguin!"

There was a hand on his cheek, warm, solid and grounding. He blinked, looking around for Shachi but in the darkness unable to see him even though he could hear him, could feel him.

"Are you with me, Penguin?" Shachi asked, and he sounded pained, scared, even as another hand rested over his own, the one with warm skin just barely underneath its fingertips. It was pressed more firmly against the other body, and Penguin felt the bony protrusion of the pelvic bone. "Penguin?"

"Shachi," he breathed, blinking again. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out the vague silhouette of the younger man.

"I'm here," Shachi said, sounding calmer now that he'd replied. "I'm here; you're here." He sounded like he was reassuring both of them, and as Penguin focused on him he could feel the slight trembling of his hands.

"I'm here," he repeated, using Shachi's pressure on his hand to give him the strength to grip the ginger's hip. He remembered the scream that dragged him back, his mother's disapproval that he'd abandoned Shachi. "I'm sorry, it's okay now. I'm here." Shachi said nothing else for several long seconds. Instead, Penguin felt him shifting, the mattress jostling slightly, before a gentle weight rested on his shoulder. The hand on his cheek slipped away, but Penguin didn't mind the loss as he felt Shachi's hair tickle his neck.

"I thought I'd lost you," the ginger murmured, clenching Penguin's hand against his hip tightly as if he was afraid Penguin would disappear if he let go. "It… it was just like Mama." Penguin tilted his head as best he could, pressing his cheek against what he assumed was the top of Shachi's head.

The echoing thumps were still there, and with his awareness steadily gaining clarity Penguin finally identified it. It was the sound of a heartbeat, bizarrely amplified by the odd gelatinous substance Law's abilities enclosed it inside when he removed it from the body. Penguin suspected it was his own, likely cradled in Shachi's hold somehow, if the faint sensations it was reporting were to be believed.

The sound was another reminder that he was alive, that he'd survived.

"Kaa-chan was there," he admitted, feeling Shachi go rigid against him. "Tou-chan too."

"You…" Shachi's voice was suddenly thick, and Penguin wished he could move so he could wipe away the tears he knew were there.

"I heard you," he continued, because there was nothing else he could do except keep talking. Shachi fell silent, his breath hiccupping. "You needed me more."

The sound Shachi let out could only be likened to a wail, which rapidly devolved into sobs.

"Damn right… I needed you more!" he gasped. An arm wrapped around him tightly, clinging to him like a limpet. "And I'm… always… going to need you… more! So don't… don't you dare… do that again!"

Penguin squeezed his hip again, hoping it came across as reassuringly as he intended. Shachi's tight grip was bruising, but he said nothing about the discomfort.

"I'm here," he said instead, reciting the same reassurance again, listening to his own heart thudding away between them, proclaiming loudly to anyone in earshot that he was still alive. "I'm here."

He couldn't promise anything for the future. The New World was anything but kind, and cared little for brazen promises of safety. But for now, he was still alive, him and Shachi both.

He was never going to take that fact for granted again.

I should learn by now that the moment I consider a sequel, it's going to happen.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari