You were supposed to think the funeral home was nice. It was beautiful, in a way, but Kogami couldn't stop seeing it as bland, impersonal, and deeply undeserving of Ginoza. It was surrounded by flowers, at least, although Kogami still didn't know enough botany to determine whether or not they were holos.

Without Ginoza, he never would.

The gates were tall and unyielding. Kogami could see the building behind them, through the bars, and it was strange how hard he was trying to reach the last place he ever wanted to be. He reached out, feeling the metal cold and unyielding beneath his fingers, and rattled the gate. He needed to get in, he needed to say goodbye, or he'd never be able to think about anything but that abyss.

And then, the beeping started. Kogami was violently wrested from the dream, and his eyes flew open before he had even started to process where he was. He was upright in less than a second, heart throbbing painfully in his throat.

It was just the alarm. It meant Ginoza's heart rate had slipped again. But it had only been a dream - Ginoza was fine. He was alive.

He was…awake. Kogami forced his eyes to focus, and saw that Ginoza was stirring vaguely, struggling harder than Kogami had to free himself from sleep. Kogami got up and crossed the room to turn the alarm off, and Ginoza opened his eyes.

"Wha's that?" Ginoza asked, eyes narrowed as he stared down at his wrist. He still spent very little of the day fully cognizant, but he'd started talking again the day before yesterday.

"It's an alarm, Gino," Kogami said. Ginoza's shoulder twitched, and Kogami thought he might have tried to pull the watch off if he still had his metal hand. Not that he would have been able to - he was still too weak to move much.

"Alarm?"

"Yeah." Kogami's voice still sounded strained and scratchy, even to himself. "I set your watch to go off whenever your heart rate starts to get too high. That way I can give you some more fluids, and that brings it down."

Ginoza blinked sluggishly. Kogami thought this might be a little bit too complex of a plan for Ginoza to understand at the moment - he was still struggling to come fully back online, to process what was going on around him.

"It's…alright," Kogami said. This was, really, the only thing that mattered. "I'm just going to change your fluids."

Kogami was glad that he wasn't the one hooked up to a heart rate monitor. He was pretty sure it still would have been beeping. After the nightmare, his heartbeat hadn't seemed to slow at all, and his chest was still tight too.

But his hands were steady as he changed out Ginoza's IV fluid. When he finished, Ginoza was looking at him. His head was flat on the pillow, and Kogami doubted he would have been able to lift it, but his eyes were open and full of more awareness than Kogami thought he had seen so far.

"What's…wrong?" Ginoza asked slowly.

I'm fine. That's what Kogami wanted to say. It was his job to worry about Ginoza, not Ginoza's to worry about him. But all of a sudden, he physically couldn't get the words out.

Kogami swallowed and tried again, but his mouth didn't seem to be able to remember how to form speech. His lips opened, but nothing came out.

He wasn't fine. He hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in…what had to be approaching three weeks, now. It had been the most stressful period of his life, and Kogami had escaped a country and fought in more than one war. That couldn't hold a candle to this, and this wasn't even over. Kogami still couldn't shake the certainty that if he let up, even for a moment, Ginoza would slip away from him.

And even if he didn't, even if Ginoza really was on the mend, Kogami had broken a hell of a lot of laws to get him there. Sooner or later, the hospital would notice their missing inventory, and Kogami would be arrested immediately. They might have noticed already, and were just waiting for Kogami to leave.

At the time, and really up until about a day ago, Kogami hadn't bothered to think about what would happen when Ginoza was better. There had been no room for anything but the all-consuming present, and he hadn't really let himself believe in a future. At least, not a future he cared about, one with Ginoza. But now, that seemed a little more likely, and Kogami was realizing that he probably wouldn't be free to see it. He hadn't made a plan to get himself out of this particular situation, and now, at the end of his endurance, he wasn't sure he could.

"Shinya?" Ginoza was half-turning towards him now, looking alarmed. "What…is it?"

He wasn't supposed to look like that. Ginoza was supposed to be focusing on getting better, and this was exactly what Kogami had been afraid of happening.

"I-" he started, trying to force his voice steady and feeling the failure as he spoke. "I'm-"

Ginoza's expression changed, obvious even through the ravages of illness in his face. He looked suddenly sad, crushed by Kogami's half-spoken deflection of his worry.

Kogami felt something in him snap at the sight of Ginoza's desolate face, and his voice left him. He couldn't talk, but his chest was tightening, his heartbeat still hadn't slowed, and now it felt like he couldn't breathe, either. All he could manage were thin, shallow gasps that left him dizzy, and the blackness behind his eyes gave way to horror-movie images of Ginoza dead, Kogami arrested, an endless barrage of all his worst imaginings of the past few weeks.

Kogami curled forward, burying his face in the edge of the bed as the world swooped and reeled around him. His fingers twined themselves in the sheets of their own accord, gripping the fabric desperately in an attempt to anchor himself.

Close by, something shifted. Kogami felt the movement on his too-hot skin and realized it was Ginoza, Ginoza was moving, and Kogami needed to sit up and take care of him but his body didn't seem to be responding to him anymore.

A breeze ghosted past his ear, and Kogami startled at the brush of a hand against his shoulder. His shoulders rose despite himself, and Ginoza's hand fell back to the mattress. He was still too weak to move much. Kogami knew that, and he shouldn't be acting this way.

"Oh, Shinya." Ginoza again, voice soft with emotion instead of sickness. "We'll…figure it…out."

Kogami didn't want to force Ginoza to take care of him. Ginoza was still so sick and weak. Kogami was supposed to be looking after him, not demanding comfort.

But still. It felt so nice to call a problem something they could solve together, rather than something Kogami needed to solve alone. It had been so long since any of their problems had been like that. But Ginoza had said we'll figure it out, and then meant Kogami was not to figure it out by himself.

Kogami had come out the other side of this, and Ginoza had come with him. And that was one of the benefits of still having his husband - Kogami was never to deal with everything alone. That was part of what he'd been fighting for.

"Thank you," Kogami said. "But you really should be resting."

"I have been," Ginoza said. Just the slightest hint of petulance in his voice. "I don't…know what's…going on."

The sincerity in Ginoza's voice shocked Kogami. He hadn't really realized that, while the last three weeks had been absolute hell on Kogami, they hadn't been hard on Ginoza. Ginoza wouldn't even remember them. He'd spent the whole time largely unconscious, so deeply asleep that Kogami didn't even think he'd been in pain. He hadn't really been lucid enough to have a conversation with Kogami the past few days - at least not about anything more complex than fluids and sleep schedules. Kogami doubted Ginoza had any idea what had happened, why Kogami was so worried. He probably didn't even know why he was at home.

"Do you…remember…anything?" Kogami asked shakily.

"What…do you mean?" Ginoza's voice was small and soft. If Kogami wanted to explain what had happened to Ginoza, he knew that he should probably hurry it up. There was no saying how much longer Ginoza could last before he would need to go to sleep again.

"You've been…asleep…these past few weeks," Kogami said haltingly. "You…almost died."

"I feel like I almost died," Ginoza said gravely.

"I mean…they gave up trying to save you," Kogami said. He was still face down in the mattress - he knew his voice was muffled.

"What?"

"Do you remember going to the hospital? I…brought you to the hospital, and you were there for almost a week. And then they told me…there was nothing more that they could do."

"Oh," Ginoza said quietly.

Kogami took a deep breath around the bedding. "So I took you," he said simply.

"You…."

"I brought you home," Kogami continued. "And I stole a bunch of supplies on the way out, medication, blood, IV fluid, bandages. Enough to keep you alive. I set you up at home, I monitored your vitals, I…made new fluid when I ran out, I…."

Kogami broke off, forcing himself to take another breath. Ginoza was silent, and Kogami couldn't see his expression but he could imagine it.

"I stayed up with you," Kogami said, stumbling over his words a little. "I…I had to take off your arm. In order to lift you. I got too…I wasn't sleeping…. I don't think I broke it, though. And I- I cut the infection out of the wound on your arm, it'll probably scar worse now, but it's healing better. I…."

Kogami faltered again. Listing everything out, all the insane steps he'd taken to keep Ginoza breathing, made it feel real for the first time. It cut through even the haze of exhaustion, and Kogami felt suddenly very overwhelmed.

"I brought you water," Kogami whispered, pulling his face out of the bedclothes. "You…you finally started being able to drink it a few days ago. I think. I've…I may have lost count."

Kogami realized he was shaking. His hands had unclenched, releasing the sheets, and his fingers were trembling badly enough he didn't think he could have gripped much of anything. The past few weeks may have been hell, but they had really, truly happened, and it had been really, truly worth it. Ginoza was here, awake, making plans to help Kogami out of his latest mess. It had worked.

Kogami looked up at him for the first time, abandoning the effort to steady his hands. "You're alive," he mumbled.

Ginoza stared back at him, lips slightly parted and eyes wide. It took Kogami a moment to place his expression, until Ginoza's eyes softened and something like wonder tugged the corner of his mouth into a smile.

"I'm alive," he echoed. "'Cause…of you, Shinya."

Ginoza's expression fell into place, and the world tilted slightly around Kogami. Ginoza was a hard man to impress. As long as Kogami had known him, he'd vied for Ginoza's approval, or failing that, an irate acknowledgement that Kogami had surpassed him. Either of those were far more precious, and given more sparingly, than most people's praise. Even now that they were married, a comment like this one was rare - it just wasn't in Ginoza's nature.

Kogami was exhausted, and strung out, and he honestly wasn't sure how to respond. He found himself opening his mouth and then closing it, a series of false starts.

"I had to do it," Kogami said. But no, that wasn't quite right. He didn't have to do it, he'd chosen to, and he would have chosen it again a thousand times. But no one had asked him to. Most people, even the ones who were very much in love, probably wouldn't have gone to the lengths that Kogami had.

"It was all I could do," Kogami whispered, but no, that wasn't really right either. Yes, it was all he'd been able to do, but that didn't really capture why he'd done it. It had felt like his only option because he'd loved Ginoza too much to let him go peacefully, because it gave meaning to his time in SEA-UN learning how to be a field medic, because he'd been otherwise out of options once SYBIL had turned its back on Ginoza.

"I would do it again," he said. True, very true, it had been hell but he'd walk through it over and over. But he still wasn't sure if Ginoza understood. He didn't know how to make Ginoza understand. He swallowed hard. "I…I-"

"Thank you, Shinya," Ginoza said.

Kogami knew that even if Ginoza didn't understand, he must mean it. He wouldn't have said it if he didn't mean it.

Everything still felt a little distant to Kogami. He still had the terrible feeling that Ginoza would get snatched out from underneath him if he wasn't careful. He felt like it was going to take him a long time to get fully back to normal. He felt like it was going to take Ginoza even longer.

But…this was what he'd done it all for. The light at the end of the tunnel. Ginoza was conscious, and recovering. He knew what had happened, what Kogami had done. He could thank Kogami for it. He could have a conversation about it. It had been really easy to forget the importance of those things when he'd been in the thick of it. But he'd done all of this to get Ginoza back, and…he was. He hadn't really wanted to prove his devotion, or his skill, or his grit. It wasn't about any of those things. He'd just wanted the chance to talk to Ginoza more. And now he had that. It was still hard to believe, still slightly dampened by the sleep deprivation and exhaustion, but for a moment, Kogami felt the relief sweep over him.

Ginoza put down the book he was reading - nonfiction, of course, not even Kogami had been able to get him to truly like fiction - and yawned. He felt a vague spark of frustration at his residual exhaustion. Even something as simple as reading tired him out, at least enough that he had to take breaks every so often.

He'd been told that even that amount of progress was nothing short of miraculous. Ginoza didn't remember much of the worst of it. In fact, his memories were fuzzy from the moment Kogami had called an ambulance right up to a nebulous point where he'd found himself lying in his own bed. It had been a few weeks since then, and Ginoza had been gradually recovering each day. He could walk around now, albeit slowly, and make it to the bathroom or the couch without Kogami's help. He was still exhausted, and spent most of his time asleep or in bed, but according to Kogami, he was healing fast.

That's what the doctors said, too, although Ginoza wasn't sure he trusted them much anymore. He was usually very respectful of people who'd obtained the proper degrees for a certain job, but in this case, an ex "Freedom Fighter" with on the job triage training had certainly seemed to know more.

Ginoza reached out his hand and brushed Kogami's shoulder, gently so as not to wake him. Kogami was stretched out beside him, something called "Fight Club" open across his chest. He'd lost weight, the hollows of his face standing out sharply against his shaggy hair. Ordinarily, Ginoza would have cut it for him, but it wasn't either of their first priority now. Ginoza wasn't even sure that he could hold the scissors.

The past few weeks had been hell for both of them. Ginoza still didn't totally understand how Kogami had managed to keep him alive, but he knew it had involved very little sleep, and very odd hours of it. Even though Ginoza was better now, Kogami hadn't really been able to get back to a normal sleep schedule. It was the middle of the day, now, too early for even Ginoza to go to sleep, and yet Kogami had dropped off almost as soon as he'd sat down with Ginoza. He hadn't said much, but Ginoza was sure he'd been having nightmares.

"Oh, Shinya," Ginoza whispered softly, ghosting his hand along the outline of Kogami's collarbone.

Kogami mumbled something unintelligible and shifted, the leg of his pants riding up as he did so. He twitched his leg, as if he was trying to get rid of the hard plastic cuff locked around his ankle. Ginoza knew it irritated him - both the sensation of wearing it and what it represented. Unfortunately, there was nothing either of them could do about it.

Kogami would be wearing it for about the next six months. Once Ginoza had been well enough that Kogami was certain there was no way a hospital would turn him away again, Kogami had had no choice but to bring Ginoza back into Sybil's medical care. There were antibiotics Kogami hadn't been able to get, support for Ginoza's damaged organs that Kogami couldn't provide. And although Kogami hadn't said as much, Ginoza knew he had also been worried that he'd missed something somehow, and Ginoza had known he wouldn't feel better until he'd gotten Ginoza checked out by a real professional.

Of course, as soon as Kogami had brought Ginoza back to the hospital, he'd been arrested. The hospital had noticed and reported the missing inventory, and Kogami had been the prime suspect. Ginoza's "miraculous" recovery had essentially confirmed that Kogami had stolen the supplies.

Ginoza had spent two nights in the hospital, being carefully monitored and getting various tests, and Kogami had spent two nights in jail. On the third day, Ginoza had felt well enough to send an email to the head of the hospital explaining his plan to sue the medical center for putting him on hospice when he was very clearly still salvageable. This email had gotten Kogami mysteriously released the next day. But even with that, he wasn't quite out of hot water yet. He'd been put in the ankle tracker, which he would need to remain in for six months, and he had some hearings he would need to go to to clear up his side of the story.

He wasn't allowed to leave their home unaccompanied either. So far, this hadn't been too much of a struggle - even Ginoza could admit he was sick enough to need near constant care, and he was obviously still too weak to leave the house. Kogami was too fragile to want to leave much anyways, so they had so far gotten by with friends delivering groceries and takeout.

Ginoza knew it was likely that Kogami would feel better, and be ready to start leaving the house, long before Ginoza. But that was a problem they could cross when they came to it. Right now, Ginoza thought they were both almost grateful for the long opportunity to rest and recover. After all, they had been through hell.

Ginoza moved his hand to Kogami's head, combing his fingers through Kogami's hair. Kogami hadn't always reacted well to even Ginoza's touch, but he always liked that.

Kogami shifted again, and for a minute, Ginoza thought he was waking up and squirming closer to Ginoza's touch. Ginoza kept stroking Kogami's hair, and it wasn't until his book fell to the floor with a crash that he realized something was wrong.

Startled by the noise, Ginoza looked down. Kogami twisted away from him, curling into a loose ball. It was something Ginoza had seen before, after years of sharing a bed with Kogami. He was having a nightmare.

Ginoza hovered on the edge of a decision, wondering if it was better to wake his husband or to let him sleep. Kogami had always been prone to nightmares, and they got worse in periods of poor sleep. After a bad one, Kogami was apt to forgo sleep entirely, instead wandering around the house trying to distract himself into forgetfulness.

But that was if he woke up. If he was exhausted enough, he slept through the dream, waking up the next morning with no more than a vague, unsettling memory.

Kogami was certainly exhausted now. Ginoza hesitated, fingers still at the edge of Kogami's hair, until another violent jerk twisted Kogami away from him entirely.

"Gino," Kogami whispered, so softly Ginoza almost missed it. His face had turned pale and drawn. "Please don't…."

The end of his sentence was lost as he fell back into the dream, but that was enough for Ginoza. Kogami had endured an unimaginable amount to get Ginoza back, and it was Ginoza's turn to protect him now. Lost sleep was one thing, but Ginoza couldn't - wouldn't - sit by and let Kogami dream about losing him all over again.

"Shinya," Ginoza said gently, reaching out and taking hold of Kogami's shoulder. He shook it, once. "Shinya, wake up."

Kogami shot awake, slower than usual but still so violently that Ginoza almost started back. He propped himself up in the bed, staring around with confused, sleep-hazed eyes.

"Where-"

The remnants of the nightmare hung around his voice, and Ginoza winced at the emotion there. He reached out, gliding his fingers softly against Kogami's cheek. Kogami relaxed into the touch, pulling a little closer to Ginoza.

It took most of the strength Ginoza had worked back to pull Kogami into his arms, but it was worth it. Kogami's head lay on his chest, and Ginoza could feel him breathing shakily as he regained control.

"It's okay," Ginoza told him. "I'm not going anywhere."