Three Days Later

Kogami's hands were shaking. Nothing new, they'd been shaking for days now. Kogami had thought at first that it was nicotine withdrawal, but after the application of several of his stolen patches, he'd been forced to conclude that it was just exhaustion.

Silently, he willed them to stop, stretched his fingers out straight and stared at them until the tremor lessened. He held that for the count of three deep breaths, then flexed his hand again. He'd learned that trick in SEA-UN, constantly on the edge of sleep deprivation and starvation. He couldn't be a sniper with shaky hands.

Now, with his hands as steady as they were going to get, Kogami reached for Ginoza's next bag of saline. He tried to hook it around the top portion of the makeshift IV set up he'd attached to their bed frame. But he fumbled, and instead of hooking the bag deftly onto the rig, he dropped it on the bed.

It burst along the top seam. A second ago, everything had been fine. Now he was down a bag of fluid, and Ginoza's bed was soaking wet.

For a moment, all Kogami could do was blink. He was so exhausted that he found himself unexpectedly fighting a lump in his throat. He wasn't going to cry. He could cry if Ginoza actually died, and not before.

But he was so angry with himself. He had one job. For the past three days he'd had one job - take care of Ginoza, and don't mess up. If he couldn't do that, what was he good for? If he couldn't do that, Ginoza would die.

Dropping the bag wasted some of his finite, precious resources. It wasted time too - now Kogami had to get a new bag before Ginoza could be set up with fluids. He also had to clean the sheets now, and that wasted energy too. But he couldn't leave Ginoza lying in slowly cooling IV fluid. The damp fabric could irritate his skin, and it was far from the sterile environment Ginoza needed to recover properly.

"Damn it," Kogami whispered. It was the only concession to frustration he could allow himself to make right now. He had to fix this first, now. He could fall apart later - if he had time.

Kogami got new bed linens from the closet. He'd changed the sheets before he'd brought Ginoza home, but not since. Ginoza needed everything to be clean, so this was honestly as good of a time as any to change the sheets and pillowcases - three days had probably been a little long to leave it anyways.

Kogami made a little nest of pillows and blankets on the floor. He could lower Ginoza into that, change the bedding, and put him back in the bed before the lack of IV fluid would become too dire.

"I'm going to move you, alright?" Kogami said, tapping the side of Ginoza's face. No response at all - Ginoza hadn't even opened his eyes since Kogami had brought him home. His shallow breathing didn't change.

"Okay," Kogami said, as if Ginoza had responded. He leaned over the bed, working one hand beneath Ginoza's shoulders and the other behind his knees. Ginoza's metal arm bit into his skin, but Kogami ignored that. Bracing himself, he lifted upwards.

Except Ginoza didn't move. Kogami blinked and tried again, his arms trembling with exertion. Ginoza's weight was pinning Kogami's arms to the bed, and he couldn't get enough leverage to shift him.

Kogami tried again, feeling himself slip into something approaching a panic. He'd lifted Ginoza into the bed, why couldn't he get him out? It had only been a few days. Had Kogami really gotten that weak, that quickly?

He couldn't try to move Ginoza any more. At this point, it was probably more likely that he'd hurt than he'd help. The last thing he could afford would be to drop Ginoza while attempting to move him. For all he knew, that could very well kill Ginoza.

A chill went through his entire body. He very likely would kill Ginoza. After a mere few days of sleeplessness, Kogami had gotten himself into a state where he couldn't even change an IV bag. He couldn't lift or maneuver Ginoza. There were a litany of other things that could go wrong, and any of them would be his fault. And it would just get harder from here.

Kogami's hands started shaking again, and he ducked his head. Screwing his eyes shut, he tried not to think about that. Not just now. He needed to…he needed to find a way to move Ginoza, he needed to change the sheets, he needed to give Ginoza a new bag of fluid, and now he needed to make more fluid as well. He needed-

He needed to calm down. Kogami realized as if from very far away that his nails were digging into the palms of his hands, and the uneven, ragged breaths he was taking were making him lightheaded rather than providing oxygen.

Kogami really couldn't afford a panic attack right now. He forced himself to step backwards, turning away from Ginoza entirely and focusing on his breathing. He took a few careful breaths, and then he felt calm enough to unclench his hands. His fingernails had left dark crescent marks on his palms, and Kogami rubbed at them with a thumb.

Time for another nicotine patch, probably. Nicotine withdrawal exacerbated Kogami's pre-existing anxiety, and even though he wasn't positive that the last patch had worn off, better safe than sorry. He couldn't really do anything else to snap himself out of it.

Kogami pulled up his sleeve, twisting his arm back and forth to find space for a fresh patch. He kept forgetting to remove the old ones, even when the effects wore off. He now seemed to have more patch than arm, but he found a spot close to the crook of his elbow and wished he was smoking a cigarette instead.

Kogami had just had time to wonder how many nicotine patches he had left when a frantic beeping sounded. Kogami hadn't been expecting a sound, and he jumped, then realized it was just the alarm from Ginoza's watch.

The one he had synced to Ginoza's heartbeat. Which meant that if the alarm was now going off, there was something Kogami needed to fix.

Breathe in, breathe out. Kogami took Ginoza's arm in his, and checked the readout on the watch. It looked like Ginoza's blood pressure was dropping again. That was unsurprising. Keeping Ginoza's blood pressure up had been a constant battle these past few days, as his body begged for him to give in. Making sure he was hooked up to near constant fluids helped, but now Kogami was late on that, and he was running out of time.

"Shit, shit," Kogami said. Then, just in case there was some small part of Ginoza that could hear, "You'll be okay."

Kogami grabbed the last of the vasoconstrictors he'd stolen from the hospital, the only thing aside from fluids that he'd been able to use to raise Ginoza's blood pressure. They would work, Kogami hoped, but he couldn't afford another mistake like this. These were the last of them that he had, and he had no way to get more. Kogami couldn't leave Ginoza long enough to try to acquire more medication, and anyways, if he left the apartment, he would probably be arrested.

Kogami added the vasoconstrictors to a new bag of IV fluid - room temperature, but he'd been keeping their apartment as warm as he could stand to make Ginoza more comfortable, so that would have to do. Getting Ginoza fluids was the first step, and he could figure out the sheets after that.

Once Kogami had gotten the IV set up again, there were a scary few moments where Ginoza's watch kept beeping, meaning his heart rate hadn't slowed. But the beeping stopped eventually, and Kogami let out a breath. He hoped these held. They had to.

But they were. For now, at least, they were.

Okay, on to the next thing. Sheets aside, Kogami wasn't really comfortable not being able to lift Ginoza in case of an emergency - Ginoza was Kogami's height, and Kogami wouldn't expect to be able to carry him all over the place, but not being able to pick him up at all was concerning. Kogami knew his body was sapped of strength, and he would probably be able to lift more if he was eating and sleeping properly. But would that really make up the difference? Kogami wasn't sure, and it didn't seem like much of an option anyways.

If Kogami couldn't get stronger, the next best thing would probably be to make Ginoza lighter. And while that wasn't possible for most people, it was possible for Ginoza.

If Kogami could figure out how to remove the metal arm. He was pretty sure that it was possible to remove outside a hospital, mostly because Ginoza had gotten it replaced so many times. Attaching a new model didn't usually require surgery, which Kogami thought had to be a good sign about his ability to remove it alone.

He hoped it was a good sign, anyway. He was running out of back up plans.

"Hold on, okay?" Kogami brushed his fingers through Ginoza's bangs, careful not to pull too hard and tug his hair loose from the careful braid he'd put it in as soon as he'd gotten Ginoza home. "I'm still here."

Ginoza didn't respond. Ginoza couldn't hear him.

Kogami turned away, grabbing his laptop from his bedside table and sinking to the floor beside the bed. It was uncomfortable, but he didn't want to use the chair. That was where he slept, and if he sat down now, he'd drift off in a matter of seconds.

And the next time he needed to move Ginoza, he wouldn't be able to. Kogami moved back against the edge of the bed, feeling the frame dig into his spine, and began to research.

Finally, he stumbled across what he was looking for in a public engineering database, on a biomedical forum. He didn't understand about ninety percent of the questions, comments, or information, and he searched until a throbbing headache settled behind his eyes, but he recognized the schematic of Ginoza's arm, and it was available for anyone to download. Kogami clicked into it, peering at the plans and technical specifications he had no basis for understanding.

Two minutes in - or maybe it had been two hours, he couldn't tell any longer - Kogami was grinding his teeth. The plans were impossibly complicated, and he was starting to worry that he was wasting his time, and he would end up back where he'd started. Worse, because he would have lost precious time that he could have been using to make more fluid, or any of the myriad other tasks he needed to complete.

But Kogami had never been stymied by technical information before, and he simply refused to allow that to happen now. Even sleep deprived, he would figure it out. He briefly summoned an image of Ginoza sneering at him and calling him an idiot, then heckling him about his reading comprehension.

"Doing the best I can, Gino," Kogami muttered, pulling up another window and trying to determine where the information he wanted would even be located in the document he had.

The real Ginoza didn't answer him. The imaginary one told him that this wasn't the time for excuses, then faded back into nonexistence as Kogami finally found something about a release button on the underside of the arm.

Even that took a little bit of time to locate. The arm was hard to maneuver - unsurprising considering it was very much attached to a person, and that person was currently dead weight. But he managed to click the release at last, and the arm made a small, mechanical sounding hiss.

After that, it was mostly just a matter of removing a few screws and releasing a couple more catches, and slowly wiggling the arm out of its socket. There was one fragile wire that Kogami was pretty sure he had snapped, which was…less that ideal. But in all honesty, there was no way he was getting the arm back on outside of a hospital setting anyways. Right now, he had bigger things to worry about than damage to the prosthetic, and if Ginoza made it to the point where he needed it reattached…well, they could cross that bridge when they came to it.

There was a small part of Kogami that felt bad. This was Ginoza's arm, and he was taking it. Breaking it. But he really couldn't worry about that right now either - Ginoza was unconscious, he wasn't using it. He would forgive Kogami if Kogami saved his life. If Kogami saved his life they could figure the arm out. If Kogami saved his life, he was pretty sure he was never going to ever worry about anything again.

Kogami unscrewed one last connection, and the arm fell to the bed with a small thud. Kogami honestly hadn't been sure how heavy the arm was compared to the rest of Ginoza - he didn't know how much of a difference removing it would make. But now that he could feel it on its own, he thought it was at least twenty pounds. Let that make the difference, please let that make the difference.

Kogami lifted the arm off the bed, carefully wrapped it in a blanket, and laid it down in the hallway. He thought there was a better chance it could be smoothly reattached if it was as undamaged as possible. He didn't want anything happening to it. He knew Ginoza wouldn't want anything happening to it either.

It was strange to watch Ginoza lose the arm without the slightest hint of reaction. But Ginoza's face was still hollow, pale, and smooth. His expression hadn't so much as tightened during the process.

That was good, Kogami supposed. He hadn't thought removing the arm would cause Ginoza pain, but it was connected to his nerves. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn't reacted.

Alright, moment of truth. Kogami slid his hands under Ginoza's knees and back, and lifted.

And pulled Ginoza up. He was light enough to maneuver now - that had been the breakthrough Kogami had needed.

Kogami felt his muscles begin to loosen with relief, and he tightened his arms around Ginoza and closed his eyes instead. Carefully, he backed up a step or two, and began lowering Ginoza to the nest of blankets he'd made beside the bed. The IV line trailed behind his remaining wrist, and Kogami made sure not to get it tangled as he moved around.

He still had to go slowly. Even without the metal arm, Ginoza was tall, Kogami's height, and the weight he'd lost made him manageable, rather than easy to carry. And Kogami had lost weight too, in the past few weeks.

But finally, Ginoza was nestled among the blankets, and the alarm on his watch was still silent, and he didn't look too visibly uncomfortable. He didn't look visibly like too much of anything, but Kogami was going to take that as a good sign for the moment. Something had worked. It was a small, shabby victory, and Kogami was still worse off than before he'd spilled the IV fluid, but it felt like a very long time since he'd managed to do anything at all.

Kogami allowed himself to sit there for a few seconds, holding Ginoza's remaining hand and smoothing his hair. And then, back to work.


Three Weeks Earlier

It was late at night, and Ginoza wasn't in bed with him. Kogami rolled over and was awake before he even knew what was wrong, looking around for Ginoza.

Usually, he was the one to leave in the middle of the night. He'd always had trouble falling asleep and staying asleep, and it had only gotten worse over the years. But waking up to find Ginoza missing - that was rarer, and it was always a bad sign.

For the past few weeks, it meant that Ginoza had woken in the night and felt sick. Kogami would probably find him in the bathroom, either trying to keep from throwing up or cleaning himself up afterwards.

Kogami sat up and sighed, his heartbeat beginning to drop back to normal levels. Being sick like this was hard on Ginoza, but it wasn't exactly rare. He'd had a weak stomach ever since they'd been in school, and much like Kogami's insomnia, it hadn't improved. Whenever Ginoza was injured, or when his work was getting stressful, or sometimes even if Kogami was hurt or sick, Kogami half-expected a period like this one.

So he hadn't been surprised, after Ginoza had been hurt in the field and the nasty cut down his arm hadn't been healing quite right. He'd been worried, of course, and sympathetic, and he'd tried to entice Ginoza to eat properly with the promise of his few dishes that Ginoza reliably enjoyed. He'd taken Ginoza to the doctor twice, and when he'd been prescribed a topical antibiotic, Kogami had dutifully helped him change the dressing on the wound and apply it each day. But aside from that, there wasn't really much Kogami could do, aside from wait for the worst to be over, and take care of Ginoza as best he could.

He wouldn't just leave Ginoza alone in the middle of the night. Even if there was nothing Kogami could really do to help, he could at the very least hold Ginoza's hair and rub his back, maybe get him some water afterwards if he was feeling up to it. Some people might not want to get up with their sick partners every night for weeks, especially if they had work the next day, but Kogami didn't really mind. Sleep wouldn't come easy anyways now, and at this point, it was almost like a routine. And it was better if Ginoza wasn't dealing with everything by himself.

Kogami swung his legs out of bed and padded quietly across the room. Sure enough, the bathroom light was on.

"Gino?" Kogami called softly.

No response. Things must be pretty bad then - if Ginoza felt well enough to speak, he would usually order Kogami to go back to bed. Not that Kogami would listen. Ginoza wasn't his boss anymore.

Kogami made his way into the bathroom. He expected to see Ginoza hovering over the toilet, or maybe at best already brushing his teeth. The comfort part was definitely preferable to the actual throwing up, not that Kogami would complain either way.

But Ginoza wasn't kneeling next to the toilet. Instead, he was slumped against the bathtub, facing away from Kogami, one arm draped loosely over the side like he'd tried and failed to pull himself up.

Kogami's heart started pounding - he could feel it at the base of his throat. Something was very, very wrong.

He'd vomited on the floor next to himself. He'd pulled down all the towels from the towel rack, maybe in an effort to clean up. But now, he'd mostly wrapped the towels around himself like a makeshift blanket nest. Even from here, Kogami could see that he was shivering violently, each one of the baby hairs that had escaped from his messy ponytail trembling individually.

"Gino?" Kogami whispered again. Ginoza stirred, but seemed to lack the strength to turn himself around.

"No." Kogami leapt across the room, dropping down beside Ginoza too hard. He felt the impact reverberate up through his spine, but the pain didn't come. Everything was forgotten next to Ginoza's trembling frame.

Kogami reached out, taking Ginoza's chin and turning it towards him gently. Every instinct he had was screaming at him in alarm, but there was still the tiny part of his brain that hoped everything would be okay if he could just get Ginoza to talk to him.

Ginoza's eyes were sunken and hollow in his thin face. He'd lost weight, and that was painfully clear now. His normally delicate features looked sharp, and terrifyingly fragile.

He didn't say anything as Kogami looked at him.

"I'm calling an ambulance," Kogami said, letting go of Ginoza's chin and stabbing frantically at his watch. He half-expected Ginoza to fight him on it, which he'd ignore.

But Ginoza nodded, head sunk against his chest. "Need…help," he whispered.

Kogami felt his breath catch in his chest, and he pulled Ginoza off the side of the bathtub, into his arms. Ginoza's heartbeat felt faint, but fast, and Kogami tightened his grip as if that could keep Ginoza there with him.

"Good evening! Please stay calm and state your emergency!"

The automated dispatch set Kogami's teeth on edge whenever he heard it, but now it was enough to make him want to send his fist through the wall.

"I need an ambulance," Kogami said instead, speaking as slowly and intelligibly as he could manage. "My husband-"

"What is the name of the injured party?"

"N-Nobuchika Ginoza," Kogami spat out, feeling breathless. "He…."

Kogami spared another glance at Ginoza. His forehead had sagged into Kogami's neck, and Kogami could see a small slit of eye as Ginoza struggled to stay awake. It was obvious to Kogami that he needed an ambulance, but to the stupid emergency dispatch-

"What are his symptoms?"

"Low blood pressure," Kogami said automatically. Ginoza's skin was cold and clammy against his, and that would explain the faint, fast heartbeat. "Getting lower. He needs an ambulance now."

"What is your location?"

Kogami spat his address into the phone.

"Please don't move! Please don't move the injured party! Please keep the injured party as warm and still as possible! Please-"

Kogami set the phone down beside him. They were sending the ambulance, that was all that mattered. Whatever else they were going to say…Kogami probably knew better then them anyways.

Kogami cradled the back of Ginoza's neck, lifting him into a half-sitting position. Kogami could feel the fine tremors running through Ginoza's body. He wasn't sure the other man had ever felt so frail.

Ginoza's eyes had been closed, but they opened at the movement. They locked on a place that was almost near Kogami.

"Shinya," Ginoza whispered. He opened his mouth like he was planning to say something else, but it was lost as he tipped sideways slightly and started dry-heaving.

"Hey, hey, you're alright. Don't worry, I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry if you need to throw up. I'll keep you safe. I have you, Gino. Don't worry, I'm right here…."

The words were an automatic, comforting litany. Kogami didn't even have to think about them. Instead, Kogami's mind was racing with a thousand other thoughts. What had happened? What was wrong? Obviously, somehow, without anyone noticing, things had gotten very, very bad.

Kogami kept Ginoza's head supported, and eased the towel off from around his shoulders. This made him shiver worse, and he made a small, miserable sound, that it broke Kogami's heart to ignore.

Kogami turned Ginoza's arm over. It was swathed in neat bandages, but even just touching the wrappings, Kogami could feel a dry heat radiating from the site of the wound.

Definitely infected. Septic? God, Kogami hoped not. He'd seen that enough times in SEA-UN. Coming back from sepsis was….

But Kogami would have noticed earlier. Right? Kogami was worried about Ginoza going septic because he'd seen it happen, seen it kill. That didn't mean that it was what was going on here. Kogami wouldn't let something like that slip past him.

If he had, he would never forgive himself.

Kogami didn't bother looking at the wound. There wasn't anything he could do right now, not when he was just trying to keep Ginoza awake and responsive until the ambulance came. He wasn't going to put Ginoza through more pain just to assuage his own anxiety.

Kogami didn't want to listen to the small part at the back of his brain that told him he didn't want to look at Ginoza's arm because he was afraid of what he might find. The part of his brain that was reciting all the people he'd seen die of sepsis in SEA-UN, everyone that Kogami hadn't been able to save.

Even if it was sepsis, he was back in Japan now. SIBYL was a nightmare, but at least it had excellent medical technology. Kogami wouldn't sit helplessly by and watch Ginoza die.

Ginoza's head fell against his neck, startling him out of his black thoughts. Ginoza's eyelids were fluttering, and he whispered something Kogami couldn't quite catch. He thought it might have been "Shinya."

"We need to get you warmer," Kogami told Ginoza. He wasn't sure if Ginoza would understand him, and was momentarily relieved when his husband rewarded him with a tiny nod. "Can you walk if I help you?"

He didn't bother asking if Ginoza could walk alone. It was clear that wasn't an option.

"Don't…know," Ginoza whispered. He looked frightened. He should never look like that.

Kogami nuzzled his face into the side of Ginoza's neck and gave him a quick, barely-there kiss. "Let's find out, okay? I'm going to help you up."

Ginoza's eyes locked on his and he nodded, his eyes clearing ever so slightly. Kogami slung Ginoza's metal arm over his shoulder, wrapped his arm around Ginoza's waist, and pulled most of Ginoza's weight onto himself.

"And we're up," he said, forcing himself to sound soothing instead of terrified. "Little steps. Come on, Gino."

Ginoza's weight slid more firmly onto his shoulder with the very first step, and Kogami staggered. He would not drop his husband, he had to get him back to bed, where he could be warm-

They barely made it into the hallway before Ginoza's legs gave out, along with Kogami's strength. They slid to the ground together, Kogami doing his best to slow Ginoza's fall. But Ginoza was almost boneless, too weak to even engage his core as he slithered out of Kogami's arms.

Kogami glanced helplessly back at the bathroom. They'd made it maybe ten steps. Even if Kogami could somehow get Ginoza back on his feet, they were maybe a quarter of the distance back to the bed. Maybe not even. There was no way Ginoza could make it that far.

Ginoza had gone to bed early that night. Kogami hadn't thought it was any reason to be alarmed. Ginoza was weak, healing, exhausted. He needed sleep, and it would do him absolutely no good to deny his body that. Kogami had noticed that he'd seemed a little worse for the wear tonight - nauseous, restless, overheated. But again, he hadn't thought anything of it. He never could have imagined that six more hours could have put him in a state like this, couldn't even have fathomed that he could deteriorate that fast.

And now, even with help, he couldn't even make it the short walk from the bathroom to the bedroom. Couldn't even sit up on his own.

Ginoza mumbled something. Kogami realized that he was facedown, cheek pressed into Kogami's thigh, one arm trapped beneath him. It looked like he might have made some vague effort to get up, but it hadn't worked, not even close. He barely seemed able to even move his arms, let alone lift himself with them.

Kogami carefully turned Ginoza onto his back. He lay there and shivered, eyes darting frantically around the room, only half seeming to recognize Kogami.

Sorry," he whispered. Barely audible - he had so little strength. "Sorry. Don't know what…I tried…."

"Don't apologize," Kogami said. He smoothed Ginoza's bangs back. They were absolutely drenched in cooling sweat - almost slimy to the touch. Kogami was fairly certain that meant he had had a raging fever not too long ago, until his blood pressure had dropped and his temperature had plummeted along with it. "We're just waiting for the ambulance. You'll be fine."

Ginoza's chest moved up and down with unproductive, half-hearted movements. "Sorry," he whispered again, almost choking on the word. "Sorry, I don't-"

"Do you need anything while we wait?" Kogami asked. "I could get you a glass of water. Or I could bring some blankets out here. Or a sweatshirt. Or-"

"No water," Ginoza murmured. "C-cold. Please."

"I'll bring you some blankets," Kogami promised, looking helplessly towards the bedroom. He didn't want to leave Ginoza, not even for a second, but his husband was freezing cold.

Carefully, Kogami tilted Ginoza partially upright, sliding his leg out from underneath Ginoza's head. He laid him back down on the ground, as carefully as he could, letting his fingers linger on Ginoza's cheek.

"I'll be right back," he promised, and stood up.

Kogami was halfway down the hallway when Ginoza finally noticed he was gone. Kogami's first indication that something was wrong was a small shuffling sound, followed by Ginoza's shaky voice calling out to him.

"Sh-Shinya?"

Kogami had already been moving quickly, but that sent him into a run. "I'm going to be right back," he called. "Just wait a second, Gino."

"Don't…don't leave." Ginoza's whisper was barely audible, but it cut through Kogami like a knife.

"I'm not," Kogami said, and his voice broke despite himself.

He almost turned back, but that would mean leaving Ginoza shivering on the floor, and he couldn't have that. Ginoza needed to stay warm. He was already showing signs of shock, and if he continued to lose body heat, that would only get worse. He might not even be conscious by the time the ambulance came.

Kogami skidded into their bedroom and yanked the blankets off the bed, hearing the book he'd fallen asleep reading go tumbling to the floor. He bundled them into his arms and raced back to Ginoza, hearing his husband beg him not to leave played over and over again in his head.

Ginoza's eyes were open when Kogami dropped to his knees beside him, scared and barely seeing, but open.

"Shinya," he whispered. "Please…please don't leave."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Kogami was frantic, his words probably barely understandable, but he lifted Ginoza's head off the floor and maneuvered him back onto his lap. "I'm right here, I'm not going to leave you, I'm going to stay right here…."

Kogami kept talking, filling the silence with apologies and promises to stay, as he tucked their comforter around Ginoza's frame.

"Wh-what…what's happening?" Ginoza mumbled. "I don't-"

"You're sick," Kogami said, adjusting the comforter and then brushing Ginoza's bangs back again. "You're real sick, Gino."

"I threw up…."

"Yeah. That's okay. You're going to be okay. We're just waiting for the ambulance now."

Ginoza licked his bone-dry lips. His eyes fluttered shut, and with a clear effort of will he forced them open again.

"Ambulance…."

"Yeah. I'm sorry you don't feel good, but you'll be alright. The ambulance is going to come, and it's going to take you to the hospital, okay? And then they'll take good care of you there."

"O-okay," Ginoza whispered. There was a long moment of silence. Then, finally, "I'm very sick."

"Yeah, Gino. You're pretty sick. I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier. I'm…I wish…but don't worry about that. The ambulance is coming, and we're going to get you to a hospital. And then everything is going to be alright."

"Don't…."

Ginoza trailed off. Kogami wasn't completely sure what he had been planning on saying, but he had a pretty good idea.

"Don't worry, Gino. I'm not going to leave. I'm going to take care of you. Don't worry, you're going to be just fine. I'll make sure of it. And I'm not going to leave. I'll stay with you. I'll keep you safe. Don't worry…."

Ginoza's breathing changed slightly - Kogami couldn't tell if he was still conscious. Either way, he was past the point where he could respond. Kogami remained on the floor, clutching him, as his heart thundered in his chest and the world slowly dissolved around him.