So as of now, the Pathos blog has passed 10,000 hits!  Thanks so much, guys! :D

In probably the space of two or three more chapters, we will be at the finale of our story.  Who ends up with who, what happens where, and will anybody manage to live happily ever after?  It’s just about time to find out.  We look forward to finally getting there with you.

The fairy tale Linali mentions in this chapter is a reference to Old Stories, an earlier fic by my co-author Hinaku.  While not precisely part of Catch-22 continuity, you might enjoy reading it nonetheless :)

Ch. 18. Contract

The next few days passed surprisingly peacefully. For some reason unbeknownst to anyone except for a very smug Jerry and a rather pleased, sober Reever, Cross remained confined to his room. Maria could occasionally be seen doing his errands. A new project folder found its way to Reever’s ‘approved’ pile that was clearly labeled ‘Komurin III’. (Komui had needed something to occupy him during the long, boring days, and Reever was conveniently handy to dictate blueprints and specifications to, if not exactly willing. The first draft was mournfully lopsided, as Reever could only be flattered/blackmailed/guilt-tripped into adding one potato launcher; he had said no to rockets altogether. It was extremely depressing.) Komui continued to recover at an encouraging rate. All in all, things weren’t bad, considering.

Then, of course, came the day Johnny walked into the cafeteria while Komui and Reever were visiting Jerry and offhandedly commented that he had heard strange sounds coming from Linali’s room.

“Like a man’s voice,” he elaborated. “Um. Anyway, has anyone seen Allen? I have his new uniform. He ruined his again.”

Johnny, very suddenly, had all of Komui’s attention.

“A man’s voice!?  When was this?  Was it just now?”  He leaned forward into Johnny’s space a little from where he was standing, eyes narrowing shrewdly.  “Definitely a man?  Not a boy?  Not Allen?”

“Um… I guess?” Johnny stammered, eyes wide behind his glasses. “Um, well. It was kind of soft, so it was hard to tell, but it was definitely a guy? Just now? As I walked by her room coming down here? Do you think it was Allen…? ‘Cause I seriously have to give this to him–”

“Other Supervisor Reever!“  A split second later Komui thrust an arm out dramatically to point toward the kitchen’s front door, all previous conversation forgotten.  “To Linali’s room!! We can’t let the culprit escape!”  He pushed up his glasses wearing a very serious expression.  Which a second later metamorphosed into a slightly sheepish grin.

“…But, uh, I don’t think I can run there.”

“…”

There was a lengthy, completely unimpressed silence from Reever’s end before he sighed and unfolded Komui’s wheelchair, feeling a bit more like an abused sidekick than a boyfriend.

“Come on then, Komui. I’m not going to run there wheeling you like a maniac either, but if you ask nicely I might be convinced to speed walk.”

“Um… that works.  With all due haste!!!“  Komui plopped down in the wheelchair and thrust out his pointing finger again, looking rather like an absurd parody of a Roman general on his chariot.  “See you later, Jerry!”

With a soft, fond sigh, Reever wheeled Komui to the elevator and they headed up to Linali’s hallway in a reasonably timely fashion. Twenty minutes, give or take. Just as they were turning the corner, though, the door to Linali’s room opened and a lone, cloaked figure stepped out. He was tall and a little withdrawn-looking, a bit breathless, blushing. He was–

“ALEISTER CROWLEY!?”

Komui sprung out of his seat looking like he didn’t know whether to be scandalized, deliver righteous big brother wrath, or just be very, very surprised.  After a second he appeared to settle on his default mode: righteous big brother wrath.

“Hold it right there!! Are you the one who has designs on my Linali~!?”

Crowley all at once turned and stared at them like a deer caught in headlights.

“I– I– I–” he stammered, clutching his hands very, very close to his chest. He might have gone pale, but it was hard to tell with Crowley. “K-K-Komui, Sir! I– I was just–” Then he sniffed tearfully once and fell to his knees, holding his hands over his head.

“I am so sorry! I wanted to tell you but Linali said she would tell you when she was ready and– and– I d-d-did not want to go against her wishes and– and–”

Reever suddenly felt a little bit like he was watching theater.

“Don’t strain anything, Supervisor,” he half-yawned out, fairly certain Komui wasn’t listening. It was okay. He had a dart gun in his pocket in case Crowley’s life became actually in danger.

Komui appeared to give the young Exorcist’s response serious thought for a moment, frowning as he tapped a finger against the side of his face, though he still looked extremely disgruntled.

“All right, Crowley, stand up!” he barked and watched as the younger  man was startled into complying.  “Feet together!  Back straight!  Eyes ahead!”

Wearing an expression somewhere between a very ill-tempered scowl and the poutiest of pouts, Komui (gingerly) crossed his arms over his chest and began to circle Crowley, shoes clicking crisply on the stone floor, surveying the young man with a narrowed and scrutinizing gaze.  He walked two or three circuits before stopping directly in front of Crowley’s face, raising his eyebrows.

“So you didn’t come to me because Linali asked you not to, correct?” he asked testily, eyes still narrowed.

Crowley jumped a little as Komui addressed him again and tearfully nodded, wiping his nose with the back of one gloved hand.

“B-b-b… but… she only did not t-tell you because sh-she w-wanted you to f-f-f-focus on getting better s-so it… it is not her fault.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Komui replied crisply.  “How long have you been seeing her?  Are you being a proper gentleman with her?  Do you intend to help look after her and support her?  Are you in this for the long term?  Are there any other girls?”  It was Crowley so he doubted it, but it had to be asked.

“Seeing her–  I-I, um, a… few months? It’s… it is hard to um, count because I… the missions, and everything, um. I… I guess… I open doors for her and– and– I… I do things like that and… I t-t-try to s-support her and l-look after her anyway, b-because we are friends and… she takes good care of m-me and…” Crowley paused to gasp for air. “I– I would l-l-like to s-stay with– I mean have, I m-mean, I, um. I d-do not really know if she… she wants to be… stuck… with me… and… maybe I-I w-will m-m-mess up, b-but, I… I…” Then Komui’s last question finally sank in and Crowley turned a dark shade of pink, eyes widening.

“I would never betray her trust! And, besides t-t-that… n-no one… really…” Crowley’s face fell and he looked down, positively distraught. “A-after… E-E-Eliade–”

And then he burst into tears.

Reever awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck from a distance. At this rate, Crowley was going to save Komui the trouble and die all on his own.

Komui’s scowl morphed into a rather bemused grimace, as though he wasn’t ready to be done being righteously furious yet but couldn’t quite find it in him to keep the attitude up.  He stuck a hand in his pocket and rummaged around for a moment to produce a pair of items: a hanky and his Komui Special portable shrink ray.  (It had been developed in a fit of boredom years ago, and lying around his room collecting dust since then.  He’d been carrying it on his person in hopes of just such an occasion.)

He leveled the little gun at Crowley’s head and waited for the young man’s crying to subside a little before he spoke again.

“Crowley.”  He flipped the on switch, listened to the wobbly hum of the shrink ray as it booted up.  Scowled again and raised an eyebrow at the Exorcist.

“Do you love her?”

There was a moment where Crowley could only stare at the strange-looking device in Komui’s hand with petrification before he nodded once, then many times quickly in succession. Enough to make himself dizzy, actually, and he staggered a little when he finally stopped. He mopped away his tears with the back of his sleeve.

“O-of course I do,” he sniffed. “S-she’s like an angel. I’d… I’d do anything for her.” He glanced downward again at that, twiddled his index fingers together.

“…I’d even let you shoot me.”

Komui stood there with the shrink ray pointed at Crowley’s head for a long moment, expression still scowling but speculative, one eyebrow raised.

Then finally he sighed and lowered his arm, flipping the switch off.

“Pass.”  His other hand thrust the handkerchief roughly in Crowley’s face as he returned to looking merely disgruntled.

“Don’t ever make her cry or I’ll hunt you down and let Komurin III use you for target practice.”  With its… potato gun.  He was going to have to do something about that when he could write properly again.  “Welcome to the Li family,” Komui added, very grudgingly.

He shoved the shrink ray in his pocket again and flounced back over to plop down in the wheelchair with a pout and a huff, which was half pique and half fatigue.  His wrists hurt now.

Crowley didn’t react at first and simply gaped after Komui, the handkerchief falling from his hand. Pass? Just like that? Oh, but if she ever cried a giant robot was going to shoot him to pieces. That was a little distressing. She did cry sometimes when he was was around and it might have been something he did, but she would never admit it and he would try to console her but– oh, Crowley just didn’t understand girls. Maybe there was no choice but resigning himself to his inevitable fate of death by giant robot.

Then the door behind him opened and knocked him off his feet.

Linali, dripping wet and wrapped in just a towel, was peering out at all of them curiously.

“Crowley, is that you? Did something happen?” she asked as she glanced out of the hall in puzzlement. “…ge ge?”

“LINALI!  You’re not decent! In front of this — uh–”  Komui glanced toward Crowley with another uneasy scowl.  “…okay, I said you pass but that doesn’t mean I want you ogling my cute baby sister, you understand?…  At least not while I’m around,” he groaned, resting his face in his hand as he shook his head, not even wanting to contemplate the thought.

“And– and–  Linaliiiiiii, why didn’t you just tell meeeeee?”  He glanced up again to pout at her rather outrageously, but there was a hint of real hurt in his expression.

“Ge ge, this towel covers more than my Exorcist uniform does,” Linali was quick to point out, trying to look stern even though it was hard for her to hold back her smile to see Crowley had survived confronting Komui all on his own. “Which you designed for me, by the way. And I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you were going to scare him off. Look, you’ve made him cry.” Linali sighed and held out her hand to help Crowley up, but he hesitated, looking very skeptical about touching her right then.

Komui’s pout turned more the shade of an unhappy frown as he looked Linali in the face, ignoring her boyfriend for the moment.

“I’m not going to deny you something that makes you happy, you know.”  He glanced toward Crowley.  “I wouldn’t really have shrunk you.”  …Probably.

“At least you didn’t bring any rocket launchers or large drills,” Linali sighed, impatiently reaching down to grab Crowley by the arm. Once he was back on his feet, she gave him a little nudge toward the other side of the hall.

“Go on, Aleister, get going. You’re too skinny to be skipping meals,” she scolded. He hesitated for a moment, glanced at Komui, then bowed extremely awkwardly before scampering off. Once he was gone, she turned back to Komui and Reever.

“Now did you come up for anything other than to stake out my room, ge ge?” she pouted, casting him her puppy-dog eyes. “I was going to go see you as soon as I finished showering.”

“Really?”  Komui perked up a little, and just as quickly a slightly sheepish smile spread over his face.  “It, uh, wasn’t staking out so much as a mad dash up here…”  He let tired hands fall back limply into his lap and glanced over his shoulder at Reever.  “Thank you, by the way.  Now I don’t have to build surveillance equipment!”

“…I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, Komui. I know that’s not legal,” Reever sighed, though fondly. “It’s okay, Linali. We just got here. Johnny said there were suspicious sounds coming from your room and Komui wanted to make sure you weren’t in danger.”

“Oh,” Linali smiled, shrugging a little helplessly. “Well, I guess that’s that, then. Ge ge knows about Crowley. Now I’ll have to think up something else for you to look forward to finding out about. Nothing could be as exciting as my secret boyfriend, I guess, but…” She walked over, leaned down, and kissed Komui on the cheek. “Thanks for being the best, as always, ge ge. I feel safe having you to screen my boyfriends.”

Komui blinked at her for a second, looking slightly stunned, and then after a moment his lips curled into an impossibly fond smile.

“Anything for you, Li Li.”

Linali blushed a little and smiled positively radiantly at that.

“I’ll have to focus on getting better very, very soon so that I can defend myself again and you won’t have to work so hard.”

“You’re such a good sister, Linali,” a low, somewhat amused voice called out from around the corner. It was then that Cross Marian slipped out of the shadows, coming up right behind Linali. He rested his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her.

“Oh! General Cross!” she greeted with a bright smile, then blushed. “I’m sorry, I’m not even dressed and–”

“Oh, no, it’s quite alright,” Cross reassured, bringing one hand up to stroke her cheek. “Beauty such as yours should never feel compelled to cover itself up. You’re fine. I’m honored.” Linali turned a deeper shade of red, glancing away.

Komui, meanwhile, had gone utterly rigid.

“Yes, it should,” he gritted out.  He couldn’t quite help his reaction to zhu r–  to Cross standing there, looking at his sister dressed in only a towel, caressing her…

“Linali, please go put on some clothes,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument.  Hopefully she’d attribute his change in mood to his usual possessiveness and nothing else.

“O-of course, ge ge!” Linali nodded quickly, quite flustered. She excused herself back into her room to get dressed.

Cross watched her go, the amused smile on his lips turning into something much darker.

“She’s so innocent, so unassuming. So carefree. She doesn’t know a thing, doesn’t know any better,” Cross mused with a soft laugh. “And you can’t do a thing to protect her without changing that, can you, Komui? Don’t you hate that? Wish it wasn’t so?”

There was hardly even any need to answer the questions.  As always, zhu ren had him pegged.  Knew him inside and out, like no one else did.  Not Linali, no matter how he loved her — she didn’t, couldn’t know everything — not even Reever.  Only zhu ren had seen down to the very deepest, darkest cracks and crevices of his soul.  And then delighted in prying them wide open one after the other.

This one alone, Cross had never touched.  The object of their bargain so long ago.  He’d played with it a little bit, certainly, but he’d never really…

A prickle of fear trailed down Komui’s spine.

“…It is how it is,” he murmured, half-lidded gaze staring at Linali’s closed door.

“You’ve finally learned,” Cross commented with some measure of delight. “I think you ought to be rewarded, Little Bird.” Then Cross turned his gaze on Reever, who had been standing behind Komui in livid silence the whole while. “And you must be punished, because don’t think I don’t know.” Grinning rather smugly, Cross whispered a soft order to Maria, eyes never leaving Reever’s. He wanted to see the look in the other’s man’s face when the love of his life disappeared beyond his reach yet again. As the last word left Cross’s lips, a bright light flashed between them and when it was gone, so too were Cross and Komui.

Reever made it as far as around the corner. He didn’t want Linali to come back out and see him cry.

- – -

When he could see again, Komui was lying in Cross Marian’s bed.

He stared up at the other man a little horrifiedly, not sure whether or not to be afraid.  He’d been…  he’d been…bad, he knew.  Done things that… would make zhu ren very unhappy.

He couldn’t… just obey again.  Could he?  But– Reever had…

“Don’t worry tonight, Little Bird,” Cross all but purred, settling himself over Komui. “I’m proud of you. Tonight, I will love you, hold you, cherish you. Tonight you may pretend we did everything right, from the beginning. You may pretend I am different from myself. Because now you know, it is how it is.” He kissed the side of Komui’s neck, his throat, the junction of his collarbones.

“…punishing you can wait until tomorrow.”

And then Komui shivered, down his whole body.

He tilted his head back a little, baring his neck more for the other man, without really thinking about it.  His arms still hurt, lay uselessly each to one side.

Komui stared up at Cross’s face, at his single intense eye, the mask.  His lips.  The fiery hair tickling his neck and his chest and his chin.

It was how it was.

“…zh… zhu ren?” he murmured, looking the man in the face through a curtain of mussed dark bangs.

“Mm…?” Cross paused what he was doing to meet Komui’s gaze, brushing the back of his hand against the side of the other’s face.

“May I…”

Komui lost his nerve abruptly, gaze drifting downward.  Thoughts of resistance, of trying to fight against their usual routine were quickly being swept away by zhu ren’s proximity — his touch, his guidance…

“…call you by your name, tonight?” he requested quietly.

There was a pause on Cross’s part. He stayed there a minute in silence, simply watching Komui, looking into his dark eyes. Considering. Then he smiled and for once there was nothing sinister about it. He leaned down and kissed Komui on the lips, and it was everything a kiss should be. It was tender, careful, searching, giving. When he pulled away, he ran his thumb across Komui’s lips, smiled again, and nodded.

“You may, Komui. Let me hear that you love me.”

Komui took a deep breath.  It felt so hard to breathe, all of a sudden.

This beautiful man who owned Komui, who had mangled and twisted him beyond recognition.  Who loved him, comforted him, protected him.  Ruined his life.  Saved his life, and gave his Linali back to him.  This man was…

I’m sorry, Reever.  I’m weak.  Pathetic.

“I do…  I love you, Cross,” he murmured, painfully.

I’ll never be good enough for you.

“I love you too, Komui,” Cross murmured and found that, for completely different reasons, that he was hurting as well. He wasn’t sure he liked the feeling, wasn’t sure if he was okay with it. All he knew right then was that he needed to have it, if only this once. He wanted to have everything with Komui, and all those things they couldn’t really have, well… Pretending was enough. So much of Cross’s life was nothing but smoke and mirrors that it was nearly all the same to him.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you, all right?” he asked quietly, sliding a hand into one of Komui’s to bring it to his lips for a brief kiss. “Tonight is for you.”

Because tomorrow, I’m going to take it all away again. I want you to fall from the highest tower to the deepest depths.

Faintly, fleetingly, Komui smiled.

- – -

Cross woke early the next morning to leisurely flip through a list of hospital records he’d had Timcampy steal for him. He had already read through them once, but he was double-checking to make sure he had all the dates and times right. It was quite fortuitous that his… sudden illness had finally run its course by yesterday, as the Order would have had to find a new chef if Jerry’s meddling had cost Cross this golden opportunity.

An hour or so before it was time to begin, Cross disrobed to go shower, shedding his clothes rather carelessly as he made his way to the bathroom. He left the door open in case Komui awoke anytime soon, then turned the shower as hot as it would go. With a deep, contented sigh, he stepped into the near-scalding jet of water, letting it wash all of his tension away.

Today would be a good day.

When he stirred at last, Komui was confused for a moment, staring up at the ceiling over his head until he remembered exactly where he was.  It wasn’t often at all that he woke up in Cross’s bed — usually their encounters at Headquarters took place everywhere except zhu ren’s own bedroom.  Though that once, before zhu ren had left a few months ago…

He smiled dreamily up at the ceiling tiles for a moment.  Paused.

Then wanted to curl up and cry.

Where was Reever right now?  Where was–…

The shower was running in the bathroom, so he at least knew zhu ren’s whereabouts.  He leaned over on his side a little, watched wisps of steam float out of the open doorway.  Was it an invitation?  Or an order?

…Today would be the punishment.

He shivered a little.  Sat up on slightly fatigued limbs, groped around for his glasses with still-stiff hands.

There was… there was nothing he could do about it.  No matter how he agonized, zhu ren would get what he wanted.  Zhu ren always got what he wanted.  So there wasn’t any use in thinking about it, before the time came.

Komui sat there on the bed and stared at the bathroom door some more, and debated whether to go inside.

Before Komui could finish deliberating, however, the sound of water cut off and a few moments later Cross emerged wearing loose slacks, casually toweling dry his hair. Beads of water ran down his pale torso as he moved. When he caught sight of Komui, he lifted an eyebrow lazily in mild surprise. He did not seem disappointed or angry or really anything at all, except for perhaps very slightly startled.

“You’re up,” he observed before he turned away to find clothing. Something loose today, comfortable. He settled on a thin button-down shirt and slipped it on.

Komui swallowed a little, and nodded his acknowledgement as he gingerly slipped over the side of the bed to collect his fallen clothes.

“Good morning, zhu ren,” he murmured meekly.

He didn’t… quite know how to feel right now.  Last night zhu ren had been…  He’d…  It had made Komui think of a night he remembered, vaguely, a very long time ago.  Of a promise they…

Today, he was sure, would be very different.  But he wasn’t thinking about that.  He just—

He just hoped that…  that Reever was all right, whatever he was doing.

“Get dressed,” Cross instructed as he turned back toward the bathroom to finish getting ready. “We have to be at the infirmary today.”

The infirmary–?

Komui couldn’t profess to understand, but even if it had been his place to ask questions, which it really was not, he was a little too afraid to press the point.  He gave another nod of acknowledgement before sitting back down on the bed to pull his clothes on.

They departed immediately once he was finished, tangled hair and all; zhu ren seemed in no mood to wait.  The halls were a little too long for him still — after the second flight of stairs he’d had to stop and curl up on the bottom step and duck his head down a bit in hopes of not fainting on the spot — but zhu ren had simply walked over and scooped him up and carried him the rest of the way.

The pair arrived more or less on schedule, fashionably late if anything. Just outside the hospital wing, Cross stopped them and set Komui down, though he held an arm out for Komui to lean on. He summoned Maria, hid the both of them under her spell. Only then did he continue, leading them past the reception desk and over toward a storage closet half-hidden by a potted plant.

Cross stopped them again in front of it, held out his hand and made a rather theatrical gesture. Slowly the door swung toward them, as though blown open by a slow draft. Cross smiled as he gestured for Komui to enter.

Komui pursed his lips slightly.  As far as he knew, this was just a little walk-in storage room, full of nothing but cleaning supplies and the like…  but he supposed he could think of a few other things it could be used for…  Still, even so.  His eyes flicked confusedly to Cross’s face for just a moment before he moved his arm from atop the other man’s and turned to obediently walk inside.

Once they were both in, Cross pushed the door mostly closed, leaving the tiniest sliver of light to shine through the crack between wall and door. Safely hidden out of sight now, he murmured to Maria to drop her illusion and drew Komui into his arms, smiling wickedly to himself. He leaned close to Komui’s neck, nuzzled him, and began to work free the buttons of his shirt. Then Cross stopped, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching the reception desk. He brought his lips to Komui’s ear.

“The punishment begins now.”

Just then, the receptionist spoke.

“Oh, Miss Li! Welcome back. Have a seat anywhere. Your doctor will be with you shortly.”

Komui’s eyes shot wide open as his gaze turned on the cracked-open door.

“But– we– zh–”

His voice was a whisper, choking to a stop halfway through his master’s title — if Linali caught even the barest snatch of Chinese there would be no doubt in her mind who– they–

His heart was pounding very hard.

Zhu ren had never, never even once — Linali, he’d teased Komui with her but she’d been the object of their bargain, always off limits, always safe–

All it would take was for someone to notice the storage closet was open when it shouldn’t be and– And–

He sucked in a slightly shaking breath.  Zhu ren’s touch burned against his skin.

“Resist me,” Cross laughed softly into Komui’s ear. “Resist me now and she is safe from me, forever. But if she hears you, if she comes of her own accord… if you are unable to stop me, well.” He caressed Komui’s cheek with one hand, kissed him.

“…she’ll never be safe again.”

Bandaged arms were straining against Cross’s chest almost before the man’s lips had stopped moving.

Knowing it was no use, that all he was doing was providing fodder for the other man’s amusement, nevertheless Komui stared up at him with absolute horror and a desperate entreaty in his wide eyes, glistening wetly in the dim half-light of the claustrophobic little chamber.  He was no match for Cross at all to begin with, let alone weakened as he was, still healing from grievous injuries — and yet he wrapped a hand stiffly around his zhu ren’s wrist and tried to persuade the other man to move it, breathing ragged, barely thinking at all in the sheer panic of the moment.

If — If Linali found out, he–

Found out what he really was–

He–

He—-

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Cross purred, wrapping his opposite hand around Komui’s wrist where it gripped his. He grinned as he squeezed the injured flesh a little. There really was no winning for Komui, and both of them knew it. There was no real escape, no real hope of keeping this from happening. It was all completely, utterly, and beautifully futile. Watching Komui strain against those bindings, those tightly wrapped chains, watching him squirm and thrash and pull at something that would never let him go, when he knew it and Cross knew it, watching him try desperately all the same… Really, it took Cross’s breath away.

And it made him, perhaps, a little bit jealous. That he could never inspire Komui to plead for him the way Komui begged for Reever’s sake. That he could never be someone Komui would sacrifice for as completely and as thoughtlessly as he would for Linali. Cross really was, when everything was said and done, absolutely nothing to Komui. Nothing, nothing at all. No one of real value, nothing like the people that Komui loved and held dear.

That was exactly why he could never let Komui go, would always have to make himself everything. Because otherwise, he would be nothing. Nothing at all.

Komui choked a little with sudden pain as Cross squeezed against the freshly-healed wound under the bandages.  He found himself pulled against Cross’s chest again as his strength momentarily faltered, and he shoved at the other man for a while longer with shoulders and elbows, gripped the dark jacket with a shaking arm — oh god it hurt–

The pain and the panic peaked to a crescendo and after a while he was tired and it hurt so much that tears were clouding his eyes and blurring his vision and he could barely see zhu ren in front of him; and then he sucked in a tiny silent breath and at last, at long last, far too soon, he stilled.

…God.

Please, God.  If you’re up there.

Not Linali.

“Is that all you can do?” Cross mocked, just loudly enough that the girl sitting not three yards from the cracked-open closet door glanced up from her magazine in puzzlement. She could have sworn there was a voice–

Linali stood, frowning a little with curiosity, and stepped forward to investigate.

“Is… is someone there?” she called quietly toward the closet. “Rabi, is that you?”

Komui went utterly rigid in Cross’s arms.

Everything else forgotten, he turned his head slowly to stare at the door in utter, abject horror; face white, body trembling faintly all over as her footsteps came closer.

His life was over.

It was a lie.  Everything he’d ever done since he was seventeen years old.  He had lived a lie all these years, for her.  Come to be one of the champions of this Order he didn’t believe in, pretending to be anything but the useless, worthless human being that he was, anything but Cross Marian’s personal whore.

It would have been better if he’d died.

“Miss Li, we’re ready for you now!”

A couple feet from the door, Linali turned away when her name was called, her momentary curiosity forgotten. She couldn’t hear any more sounds coming from the closet, anyway… It had probably just been her imagination, but nevertheless, she made a mental note to speak firmly with Rabi about his tendency to hide in strange places. Clearly it was finally getting to her.

“Coming!” she called as she walked off, leaving them to themselves again — which Cross thought was a true tragedy.

He would have to remedy it later.

Komui, meanwhile, let out a long shuddering breath; his body went limp against Cross’s as Linali’s footsteps turned away from their door.

Oh, god.  Oh god.  Oh god.

He couldn’t think.  He…

His sheer relief was tainted by the knowledge that if Cross had done this once, he would do it again.  And again after that.  And after that.

Or hell, maybe he’d just tell Linali flat out.

But– but she…  at least it hadn’t happened… today.

He whimpered a little against his zhu ren’s chest, knowing the other man must be… thrilled.

…This was, by far, the worst of all possible punishments.

The way Komui relaxed in Cross’s arms, the way he shuddered and whimpered and simply tried to catch his breath again, it all reminded Cross strongly of the end of a night of very good sex. In a way, the relief he had just offered Komui wasn’t all that different. Only, once he got to thinking about it, Cross couldn’t help but admit to himself that perhaps he enjoyed this just a little bit more. The thrill of it, seeing the mental exhaustion and relief and terror that brimmed over in the young man pressed against him, it was all very… enticing, to Cross. Which most likely made him an extremely twisted individual, but he already knew that. He grinned and reached down for the waistband of Komui’s pants as he brought his lips to the other’s neck and, with a soft, chilling laugh, whispered quietly against Komui’s skin.

“Don’t think that we’re done here yet, Komui.”

Komui swallowed a little.  Tried to think over the pain in his arms, acutely noticeable again all of a sudden now that the immediate crisis was past.  Shivered against Cross’s body once more, as warm lips pressed against his flesh.

He knew it had been too soon to be relieved.

“Please…  zhu ren…” he begged in a tiny, choked voice, not having the faintest idea what he was saying.  Nothing else would come.

“Please what, Komui?” Cross asked lightly as he unfastened Komui’s pants with very well-practiced ease. “You’ll have to be more specific than that. Please, Master, take me hard and fast right here in this storage closet and please, Master, I’m in pain and want to stop and please, Master, I’d rather do this in my sister’s bedroom are all very different requests, you see.”

And once those words were said–  For just a second Komui’s throat actually closed up. He just managed to stay upright, swaying forward to lean his forehead against zhu ren’s chest, breathing in irregular gasps and staring wide-eyed toward the floor.  Just the very thought in his head — the image of — of–  The two of them, and Linali’s, and she, and, oh god.

They’d do it.  Zhu ren would do it.  He was going to tell Linali everything, he was going to show her–  He…

Tears began to well up in Komui’s eyes in earnest then, trailing down his chin and plopping against zhu ren’s clothes.  He did nothing to stop them.  Just… laid there, and stared, and felt zhu ren’s hands on his body.

Cross paused at the sight, straightening. He took a moment to simply stand there and watch the breathtakingly beautiful, breathtakingly broken man in his arms weep. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss against one damp cheek, tasted the bitterness of Komui’s tears. With a shiver passing down his spine, Cross wrapped his arms around Komui and held him close.

“I love you, Little Bird,” Cross murmured, stroking Komui’s hair with one hand. “I wish I could be sorry for your punishment today, but…” He laughed a little to himself, paused; shoved Komui away to pin him against the shelves and then returned to undressing him, voice cruel, holding black humor and irony if anything at all.

“I can’t.”

Komui said nothing in reply; but only laid his head back against the side of the shelf, and surrendered quietly.

- – -

Once they were done, Cross scooped Komui up into his arms and summoned Maria’s illusion again, then began the long walk back to his room. He found amusement even in this, in carrying an exhausted and half-undressed Komui through the halls where they could see everyone but no one could see them.

When they finally arrived back in Cross’s room, he laid Komui down on the bed and tucked him in, kissing him lightly on the brow. Cross let the poor thing alone for a while after that, occupying himself with the view from his balcony and a bottle of good wine. For a while, he even chatted idly with Maria, simply passing the time. He wanted to give Komui a good long rest.

Because he had decided the worst was yet to come.

Komui, for his part, simply lay there under Cross’s bedcovers and stared up at Cross’s ceiling for a while.  Here and there in his head might have floated a stray wish that Reever had never come looking for him that day a few weeks ago, but for the most part, his mind was an exhausted blank.  He didn’t even want to contemplate what might come next; and so he continued to simply lie there, gazed blankly at the ceiling tiles until his eyes didn’t want to stay open.  Before too long, his tired, faintly aching body had slipped into an uneasy sleep.

It was just before dusk when, finally, Cross set down his wine glass and stood. He dusted a few stray flecks of cigarette ash off his clothes and pulled his gloves back on, then let himself back into his room. Finding Komui still sleeping, Cross smiled fondly for just a moment before his expression went cold. He reached down to wrap a hand around Komui’s neck, then dug his fingers in. He had always wondered how beautifully Komui would wear bruises on that… previously flawless skin.

It was only moments before Komui awoke, eyes shooting open suddenly, staring wide-eyed up at Cross with his mouth working in choked-off gasps.  His gaze was terrified as he stared up at the other man, unable to articulate a protest with the force Cross was pressing against his throat; one hand reached out to scrabble at the other’s sleeve as pained tears began to well up again in the corners of his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” Cross asked lightly, as though his hand was not wound around Komui’s neck, cutting off his air supply. He held on a moment longer, careful not to do any permanent damage because that would be a true pity, then transferred his grip to Komui’s hair, jerking Komui upright before he even had a chance to catch his breath.

“Aagh–”  His chest and his head and his everything screamed in protest and he could barely breathe–  Komui sucked in a gasp and coughed violently, shuddering as he tried to turn his gaze toward his zhu ren, cheeks wet again.

The punishment — wasn’t over.

All he could think about through the utter terror was how much he deserved this.

“Mm, you did?” Cross answered his own question in a rather conversational tone. “That’s good. You’ll need the strength.” He then grabbed the collar of the other’s shirt to bodily drag Komui off the bed, casting him roughly to the floor. Cross could feel his own heart racing, though some of it was excitement and another part of it was anxiety. He… wasn’t quite enjoying this as much as he’d thought he would, as much as he once had. Cross briefly closed his eyes, decided not to think about it. The strange feeling would pass. He knew it would, because no one cried or bled or hurt as prettily as his Komui, and nothing complemented Komui’s fair features quite like agony. Cross moved to stand over Komui with that thought in mind, watching him, studying the fear in his eyes and the pain.

“Get up, Komui. What are you doing down there?”

Komui was trembling still, abused muscles in his arms twitching faintly, body aching.  He wobbily got himself to all fours, then to one knee, then stood up slowly and shakily, eyes drifting between Cross and the floor.  His hair hung loose and mussed around his shoulders, a few soaked strands of his bangs sticking to his face with the tears.  His eyes were wide and terrified, barely comprehending…  and in another sense, resigned.

“I’m sorry, zhu ren,” he mumbled, casting his gaze downward.

“What was that, Komui?” Cross caught one of Komui’s wrists and jerked it forward, holding out the bandaged limb to shake in Komui’s face. “You’re sorry? Sorry is what you say when you’re late to dinner, Little Bird. Sorry is what you say when you bring me the wrong kind of tea. Look at what you’ve done, Komui.” Cross’s grip tightened, lips drawing into a thin line.

“You very nearly broke one of my most treasured things,” he whispered, voice low and grave. “It will take much more than ‘I’m sorry’.” Then he released Komui again, took a step back, and nodded to the floor.

“You can start by undressing. Then get on your hands and knees.”

Komui didn’t say a word in response, but only looked at Cross a moment longer, trembling, before he obediently began.  Slowly, excruciatingly, Komui pulled off his half-unbuttoned shirt; slid out of his undone pants, then his briefs.  He tossed them all haphazardly against the wall a few feet away before turning to kneel carefully; he squeezed his eyes shut with a bitten-back whimper of pain as he bent his hands to press against the floor, put weight against his arms.

“Now why don’t we try this again, Little Bird?” Cross asked as he bent down on one knee before Komui to grab the other’s chin, jerking Komui’s head up to make their gazes meet. “Apologize again. Mean it. Beg for my forgiveness.”

Komui’s arms were shaking.  He stared into Cross’s face wide-eyed, his gaze still wet, trying to think straight through the pain.  He could barely speak.

“Please– zhu ren..  I should never have–”  He stopped short with a pained little choke.  “D-damaged something of…  yours…  I don’t…  deserve it but please…”

He sucked in a long, shuddering breath.  It felt like his arms were going to give out at any moment.

“Please forgive me…”

“You’ll never hurt what is mine again, will you, Komui?” Cross demanded, watching Komui’s arms tremble. He knew that Komui was at his limit, putting so much weight on his injuries. A few more seconds, he bargained with himself. A few more seconds and they would move on.

“No–  Never–” Komui gasped out.  He hadn’t really meant to anyway, he just — just–  Oh god it hurt–

“Please–”

It came out in a tiny, high-pitched whimper through his tight throat, his arms wobbling unsteadily underneath him, gaze locked waveringly with his master’s.  All he could think of in that moment was the pain, the wish to make it stop, the need to obey.

With a quiet sigh, Cross stood again, gripped Komui by his upper arm, and pulled him to his feet.

“Does it hurt, Little Bird?” he asked in a soft murmur, petting the side of Komui’s face with one gloved finger.

“You see,” he continued with a little smile as he took Komui’s hands gently in his own, “it hasn’t even begun to hurt yet. I don’t really want to do this to you, but you’ve forced my hand. Do you understand, Komui? This is your own fault. You should never, ever hurt your beautiful body. It’s a privilege only I am allowed.”

“I’m sorry– zhu ren…”

Komui was shaking all over, his breathing irregular with suppressed sobs, gaze drifting unsteadily from Cross’s eyes down toward his chest.

“I know I was wrong…” he managed in a whimper, regretting his actions in that moment as acutely as he ever had, arms still throbbing in pain.  “I deserve to be punished.”

“That’s a good boy,” Cross crooned in response, leaning forward to kiss Komui lightly on the lips. “I’m glad you understand. Now. Where were we…? Ah.” Smiling, Cross stepped back and summoned Maria into the room; as she emerged from her casket, he beckoned her toward him, taking a moment to run his hands down her sides in appreciation.

“Maria,” he greeted her almost casually before gesturing to the room’s other occupant. “I’d like a nice illusion, as real as you can make it. Chain the boy to the wall for me, won’t you?”

Komui just looked at the woman; stood there and shook faintly and gazed a familiar tired gaze at her.  The only person in the world who was more a slave to Cross than he was.

He didn’t know whether to pity her or envy her anymore.

“Hello, Maria,” he greeted her, quietly and hoarsely, as he waited.

She drifted silently toward him, reached out and cupped his cheek.

‘Don’t die,’ her masked face seemed to tell him. ‘This is all there is when you die.’

Then she opened her mouth and sang her song, sheer force pushing Komui back against the wall, cuffs closing on his wrists to hold him fast. Chains wrapped around his arms, his waist, each of his ankles, the metal of them biting into his skin.  For an illusion, it felt very solid.

“That’s enough, Maria. You may go,” Cross dismissed as she finished. He let her vanish before he stepped forward to stand before Komui again.

It… it was all right, Komui thought.  Gave in utterly.

It was all right.  He’d made a horrible transgression.  He didn’t belong to himself — no matter what Reever said, and he’d hurt so many people.  Zhu ren only… loved him.  Wanted to help him remember his place.

Even though someone as powerless and worthless as Komui might as well not ever have been born, zhu ren was willing to help him. Guide him.  Lead him.  Punish him.

The pain jumbled his thoughts, but among the shrill strains of fear filling his skull there was a prickle of gratitude.

Reever would have told him that none of it was his fault… not in the past, not now.  But he didn’t have to play pretend like that with zhu ren.  They both knew better.

Zhu ren always knew better.

“Zhu ren,” he whispered quietly, hoarsely, meeting the man’s eyes with his own half-lidded ones, still glistening wetly; fear and despair, self-loathing and gratefulness mingling in his black, black gaze, half-hidden under the fall of tangled dark hair.

“I love you, Little Bird,” Cross murmured in response, because he wanted to. Because he felt it more in these moments, when Komui looked at him that way, so terrified but reverent, so full of hatred for himself, for everything, even for Cross. Cross knew he deserved to be hated, knew and was glad that he had found Komui to do it because Komui wore hate as beautifully as he wore anything else.

“And that’s why I have to do this, Komui. I know you’ll understand.” Upon those words leaving his lips, Cross called Timcampy over, stepping closer to cover Komui’s mouth with his hand.

“Shhh,” he instructed, smiling as he held up a finger to his own lips to illustrate. “Timcampy. Call Linali’s wireless golem for me.”

There was a single whimper from behind Cross’s hand.

Komui shook again, violently, as he stared between Cross and then Timcampy with utter dread for a few long, excruciating moments; and then he sucked in a deep shuddering breath and went limp against the illusory chains.

Just stared.  Trembled a little.  Cried silently.

Knew in that moment that he would rather have been like Maria, trapped forever and irrevocably, so at least he wouldn’t have to regret.  Have to wonder.  Have any hope left at all for Cross to break.

He could see it coming, now.

His life was over.

“Hello, Linali,” Cross was saying in the meanwhile. “Are you well?”

“General Cross? Oh! Um, I’m fine! Is there something you need…?”

“I’m hurt you ask that, Linali. Can’t I call a lovely girl for the sake of the conversation?” he teased lightly, hand still clamped over Komui’s mouth. He gave Komui a reassuring smile. “But you’re correct this time, I’m afraid. You see, it’s your brother…”

“Komui? What happened?” There was at once a note of panic in Linali’s voice.

“I’m not sure. Could you come to my quarters? You know where that is, right?”

“I’m on my way!” The golem’s call cut off then, and Cross removed his hand from Komui’s lips.

“There now. It should be a bit yet. She’s slower these days, you know?”

Komui’s only response was a quiet sob.

The part that hurt most was that, in his heart of hearts, he knew he deserved this, too.

But Linali…  Linali didn’t.

Oh, God.

Unconcerned, Cross leaned forward to suck on Komui’s neck and entertain himself for a little while, hands caressing Komui’s sides, hips, stomach. One hand reached back to fondle the other’s buttocks and it was there at Komui’s lower abdomen that he hesitated, taking a moment to ponder to himself. Sighing, Cross turned away and left for the bathroom, returning with a mid-sized towel which he tucked into the chain that was wrapped around Komui’s waist.

Witnessing a sibling naked could be potentially traumatizing, after all. Wouldn’t do to have Linali see that.

“There, is that better?” Cross asked almost cheerfully, kissing Komui’s jaw after he spoke, hand reaching underneath the towel.  The younger man only sucked in a gasping, unsteady breath.

A teardrop trickled down onto Cross’s lips.

It was nearly twenty minutes later before Linali finally arrived, out of breath and exhausted and most of all, worried. She knocked on the door unsteadily, trying to catch her breath.

“Come in!” Cross called out to her once he could bring himself to separate his lips from Komui’s neck. Komui had gained several more fresh bruises in the last few minutes, some of them forming up in the shape of Cross’s hands.

Linali opened the door to let herself in.  “General Cross, what–”

And then all words left her.

Her eyes went wide and her breath caught in her throat and all Linali could do was stare in complete mortification at a world that suddenly made no sense, at a scene that couldn’t possibly be reality.

“W-what are you doing?” she choked out in horror, a soft sob in her voice as she covered her mouth with her hands. She felt ill and she just– she–  she didn’t understand.

Komui swallowed.

…There.

The world was over.  His life was over.  It was done with.

The first thing he felt, absurdly, was relief that the waiting was over too.

He couldn’t… look her in the face.  If he looked at her and he saw her and she saw him and he–  He–  If they–

If she called his name and he…

oh, god.

If she…  if she was looking at him the way he deserved, just like a–

Breath coming fast, shaking all over, Komui flung his head to one side, dark hair falling down to hide his face.

He didn’t look at her.  He couldn’t look at her.

He was just…

god…  Linali…  I’m sorry.

“You mean he didn’t tell you?” Cross’s voice was mocking now, cruel, nothing like it had been before. “What an awful brother you are, Komui. All these years, and you’ve never told your sister about the contract you made to get yourself here to Headquarters?”

“The– the– the contract?” Linali echoed, without any true comprehension of what she was saying. “What are you– Wh…what is he talking about, ge ge? You… G-General, you’re hurting him, you– I–” Her head hurt. Spun, actually. Everything… everything was… so absurd. Her brother… wasn’t like this. He… The General, he… was kind to her, and… This couldn’t possibly be happening, because… everything… everything she had ever understood or known, every truth and everything she thought was real, everything she had built her life upon, it was all– all–

“Linali.”

Komui’s voice trembled as badly as the rest of him, quiet and low and breathless.  Somewhere behind the tangled black curtain obscuring his face, tears fell quietly to shatter into tiny droplets over the floor tiles.  Komui didn’t stop them.  It didn’t occur to him to try.

“I love you,” he whispered.

It was then that Linali came to the sudden and horrifying realization that it was all true. Everything she had never known, all of this, whatever this was — the three years after she’d been separated from Komui, the three years Cross had taken him away again. Reever’s drinking. She wanted to cry so badly that she was sure she would begin to laugh. How could she have been so blind? Always asking Komui to take care of her, never once opening her eyes to see how much it was costing him, never understanding, never even suspecting. And she should have. She should have been the first to know. She had always been so foolishly proud of being closest to him, after all, of knowing him best.

She barely knew him at all.

All she knew was that he loved her, and it was only now that she realized he loved her too much. Far, far too much. He bore all of her burdens for her, left her to be happy and flourish and have her silly little relationship with Crowley and worry about her stupid little problems like her Innocence and all the while, he– Linali choked a little, began to cry. Her legs gave out from under her and she began to break down and cry until she was gasping for air. It was like when she’d been little and Mommy had held her and turned to ashes, and the ashes got into Linali’s eyes and she couldn’t breathe and–

‘I love you, Li Li.’

“Let him go!” she sobbed angrily. “Stop hurting him and let him go!“

“I’m sorry, Linali,” Cross laughed in response, amused by her tears. Entertained, really. The sibling love ran so deep both ways. Idly, he wondered what he could get Linali to give up for Komui.

“Our bargain was his freedom, for you. Forever.”

The word echoed in Linali’s mind, and she looked up at her brother through her tears and realized this had all been going on right before her eyes for a very long time. Forever.

Komui had traded–

Forever.

For her.

The old scars on her wrists ached. A wave of vertigo hit her and she pressed a hand flat against the floor as she doubled over, trying to– to–

Forever.

The room slipped away from her.

Komui flinched at the sound of Linali’s limp body meeting the floor.

He breathed in slowly, still staring toward the ground.  There was a long moment of silence before he finally found the courage to look up at her face.

Thankfully, her eyes were closed.  She was… white.  Pained-looking.  Suffering.  Because of Komui.  Because– because he–

She was suffering because he loved her, when you got right down to it.

Quietly, shakily — more than a little hysterically — for just a bare moment, Komui laughed.

The laugh caught Cross by surprise and he cast Komui an evaluating look, then decided that he approved of this development. He then silenced Komui with a kiss, clamping his hands down over the younger man’s wrists. In the same moment, he gave Maria a mental order and the illusion of chains fell away, leaving Komui to collapse into his arms. He carried Komui back to the bed, set him gently down, and crawled atop him to pick up right where they’d left off with bruising kisses and complete disregard of the other’s wounds. Cross even managed to tear open part of a healing cut on Komui’s chest, and paused then to spend a full minute admiring the blood blossoming against the white of the bandages.

“I own it all now, you know,” Cross whispered into the other’s ear. “Everything you have ever had, everything you ever will. Everyone you love, everyone who loves you. I have it all. And I have all of you.”

The stabbing pain of Komui’s reopened wound felt rather like it belonged to someone else.

For a moment, he just looked up at Cross, a few stray tears still running down his cheeks, eyes blank.  Then his lips curled upward a little.

He glanced away, tilted his head slightly to one side and laughed another breathy, faint, despairing laugh.

He’d been wrong.  It hadn’t been a mistake at all.

It would have been better if he’d died.  Or had never been born to begin with.  On balance everyone would have been better off without him, and–

He would never have had to feel like this.

Cross left him some time later, seeing Komui’s chest freshly bandaged again before ordering him to get some rest. Cross told him that he would find Komui when he wanted him again, that he would be back in a few days at the most — and not to do anything rash or stupid.

“Because if you kill yourself, Komui,” Cross crooned into his ear sweetly, softly, “or if you finally damage yourself beyond repair, the punishment will be much worse. Have a chat with Maria if you’d like.” He smiled his broad, self-assured smile then, cupping Komui’s cheek.

“And if you think to yourself, ‘how could this possibly get any worse?’, Komui… and I know you are–” and he paused with a soft laugh–

“Never doubt my creativity.”

With that, he was gone, his Exorcist coat slung over one shoulder. He stepped over Linali’s prone body as he walked out the door.

For a long while afterward, Komui couldn’t seem to manage to do anything save lie there and stare at the ceiling.

Eventually he registered that he didn’t hurt as badly anymore.  He propped himself up a little with one elbow to glance sluggishly down at his chest; the red patch just underneath his ribcage was relatively small, and didn’t seem to be growing.

…Linali was on the floor.

He shot straight up at that, made himself dizzy and had to lie back down again for a moment until the feeling passed.  Then, slowly this time, he sat up once more.  Stared blankly toward the spot on the floor where his sister was curled up.

….he should probably…  do something.

He rose unsteadily after a few more moments.  Walked over to Linali’s place on the floor, crouched down next to her; simply looked at her.  There was a dull prickle in the back of his mind, something that might vaguely have resembled fear, or apprehension.  He…

He probably shouldn’t touch her.  He’d stain somehow.

That was it.

But she…  it must hurt, to be lying there on the cold hard tile floor.

He…  he should…

Linali should always be… happy.

Gingerly, he reached out, dully aching arms sliding underneath her.

Linali groaned quietly as she was moved, eyelids fluttering for a few moments before they finally came open, almost as though she was fighting consciousness. A quiet whimper of pain left her lips.

“…ge ge?” she breathed out, still a little disoriented, still a little not-there. She didn’t want to remember.

“L–”

His breath caught in his throat, and Komui snatched his hands away abruptly, shifting backward.  He curled his aching arms around his chest, pulled his legs up against him.  Stared at her, trembling.

He wanted to run away.

Linali winced a little as she fell back onto the floor, arms slipping from beneath her because she hadn’t expected Komui to let her go. She sat up again, slowly, and looked back over at her brother.

She couldn’t figure out why he was so–

And then Cross’s voice was whispering into her ear again, whispering that Komui was his and had always been his and would always be his. Forever.

A quiet little whimper left her lips and she stopped, wanting to reach out but unable but– Oh, her heart.

“Ge ge,” she whispered again, her expression utterly stricken. “Why did you never–” And then she stopped, shook her head. There were tears in her eyes.

“…you’re hurt, ge ge. Tell me where, okay? I’ll… I’ll kiss it better and… and if that doesn’t work, well, that’s what doctors are for. Little sisters are only for kisses,” she choked out, wiping at her tears. “I love you, ge ge.”

Because now wasn’t the time. Because really, it wasn’t so bad. Because they were good at this, the both of them. They were good at making the best out of absolutely nothing. They were used to having everything taken away again and again and again until all they had left was each other. That had always been enough. Why couldn’t it be enough now?

Linali didn’t know where they would go from here, didn’t know what she would do tomorrow or think or anything. But right now, right now, she knew she had to make Komui stop hurting. It was as simple as that.

Komui, for his part, hadn’t made any plans for after the world ended.

Possibly this was why, for a moment, he couldn’t even comprehend what Linali had just said.  Couldn’t make it make sense in his head; couldn’t be sure it was reality.  He stared at her, shaking faintly still, for several seconds longer.

Then his eyes widened slightly.  Mouth inched open a little, slowly, as though to speak.

“You… do?” he asked, in a very small voice.

Still?

That… didn’t seem right.  After seeing everything he really was, all the ways he’d been lying to her all this time, all the ways he was nothing but a–

He was sure it was supposed to be…

Different than this.

“Of course, ge ge,” Linali answered without hesitation, smiling even through her tears. She couldn’t hold it long, couldn’t bite back a quiet sob at the idea that Komui even had to ask, at all the damage Cross had done to him… but it was there, for a little while. “More than anything.”

There was an expression of faint amazement on Komui’s face as his gaze drifted downward.

Even now.

Even knowing… everything, everything important, even now she…

Oh.

Linali…

My Linali.

He should have known it would be this way, and yet…  Perhaps he’d simply been unable to imagine her finding him anything less than just as disgusting as he found himself.

“…I love you too, Li Li,” he somehow managed to say back, a tiny crooked smile twisting across his face, looking down toward the floor.

Finally, Linali could move again. She leaned forward to hug him as tightly as she could without worrying about hurting him, burying her face against his shoulder.

“I’ll always love you, ge ge,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry. For everything, for… always being such a burden. For never being grateful enough. I… just… everything, ge ge.” She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could somehow take the last fifteen years back. Start over.

“You’ll always have me. You know that, right? Always.”

Komui hated crying in front of Linali, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

He leaned forward a little and rested the side of his face against her hair; swallowed; blinked tears down onto her dark locks silently until he could get ahold of himself.  One hand stretched out slowly, stiffly, to rest against her waist.  That was about as much as he could manage.

“I…”

His voice didn’t seem to want to work right now.  His brain, for that matter.  The words that came out of his mouth were the first that drifted, after a long moment, into his head.

“You’re not a burden,” he whispered, hoarsely.  “You’re what makes life worth living.”

“…I live for you too, ge ge,” Linali whispered back, sounding as elated as she did sad. “You’re all I need to want to get up in the morning. You’re all I need to keep smiling, to be okay. I just… I just wish we didn’t have to hurt like this to be happy. It’s… what do you call that, ge ge? A paradox, right?”

“…A catch-22, maybe,” Komui murmured against her hair.  Laughed a small, shaky little laugh; tried to keep himself together.

Seeing that he was exhausted and hurting, Linali stood and went to pull a sheet off Cross’s bed, holding it out for her brother. She didn’t want to be in this awful room any longer, now or ever again. Luckily (or unluckily) the quarters of higher-ranked officers were grouped together, which meant that Komui’s suite wasn’t so far away. She hoped her brother could walk that far. If not, well, she’d go get him a wheelchair if she had to.

“Will you come with me, ge ge? I want to hear a bedtime story.”

Komui’s room would be empty, she knew. After all, Reever had gone back to his own room and stayed inside since General Cross had returned.

God, how had she not seen it before?

Komui accepted the sheet, wrapping it around himself before he rose, a little unsteady, to his feet; and then he smiled shakily at her.

“…Which one?”

“The one about the man who lost his horse,” Linali requested without pause for thought, as she had already decided before even asking. “Our story.”

With a little uncertain smile of her own, she held out her arm for Komui to lean on, and together they headed out the door.

Welcome back!

Considering the number of times I’ve broken my own promises about our update schedule, I’m going to try not to make any solid specific ones anymore. :D;  But I definitely intend to finish posting Catch-22 this year before you all get thoroughly sick of us.  I’ve edited this chapter well in advance to save myself some work later, and hopefully from now on we won’t go longer than a month or two between each new post at the worst.

The fairy tale in this chapter is paraphrased/adapted from a version written by Colette Chooey on the Chinese Tea Stories website.  There are many different versions of this folk tale; we have merged the story as Ms. Chooey relates it with part of the version my co-author was told growing up.

As always, thanks for your feedback, guys — it makes everything worth it!!

Ch. 17.  The Moon Lady

A few more days quietly came and quietly went, with Linali as Komui’s only constant visitor aside from brief visits by Johnny and Tapp. Jerry came by when he could tear himself away from the kitchen. 65 even managed a single visit before he burst into tears and had to be excused.

Reever did not come by.

As far as Komui knew, anyway. Reever would come, would stand in the waiting room and pace around. He would get as far as Komui’s hall before realizing he still had nothing to say and was as helpless and useless as he had been the day before. Then he would leave again and drink and wonder what he could possibly do for Komui now. Every night the conclusion he came to was absolutely nothing, but every morning he resolved to try again.

Reever had still not made it inside when, one day, Komui awoke to find a bottle of red wine with a heavy rosary looped around the neck sitting on his bedside table. The room smelled faintly of cigarettes.

Komui had taken his glasses off to sleep; but the image in front of his eyes when he opened them again was unmistakable.  Expressionlessly, he stared at the wine bottle for a long while, turned just a little on his side, before at last reaching out to pick up the spectacles lying next to it with one bandaged hand.

“Welcome back,” he murmured quietly to the air as he slid them on.

The far wall shimmered briefly as though fog was lifting, one chair leaned against the stone bleeding away to reveal a familiar face. Cross brought a new cigarette to his lips and lit it, smiling faintly as he did. It was against hospital policy to smoke in the infirmary. Then he lifted his gaze to study Komui, glance over the bandages on the younger man’s arms and chest. He breathed out the smoke in his lungs and lowered his cigarette to his side, lips drawing into a thin line.

“Stupid boy,” he muttered. “I can’t leave you alone at all, can I?”

Komui just laid there for a little while longer, taking in the sight of him.  The familiar form that had invaded his dreams for weeks after he’d come back, still came to visit occasionally when his guard was down…  the man he’d longed for to guide him, to own him, to–

…he couldn’t… do this again.

He might never come back.

but he–  he–  he wanted –

needed–

he was–

he couldn’t–

…His arms hurt.

“Zhu ren,” he whispered helplessly, in a small sad voice.

Cross stood as the other spoke, and then all at once he was at Komui’s side without really seeming to move at all. In the bat of an eyelash, he had been there and now was here. He took one of Komui’s hands in his own, turned it over to the side with the healing cuts he knew were hiding beneath the thin layer of bandage.

“Look at what you’ve done, Little Bird,” he commented softly, running his fingers down the length of Komui’s arm directly over the wound. “You’ve hurt one of my things. There are consequences, you know. For hurting what is mine.”

He hadn’t meant to, barely remembered doing it, but that didn’t make it any less Komui’s fault.  He was the one who’d taken up the scalpel.  He was…  well, probably the one who’d had the thought.  He was…

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.  Stared at Cross’s hand.  Shivered a little as fingers pressed against still-healing flesh underneath the bandages.

“You were right,” he continued tonelessly.  The way zhu ren was always right.

“I’m useless.  I let everyone down.”

It was almost a relief to be able to admit it to someone.  A weight off his shoulders.

“Oh?” Cross asked lightly. “You are rather a glorious little disappointment, aren’t you? Well, how did you manage it this time?” His voice was gentle, soft. Soothing almost.

“I–”

She’d been such a cute little baby girl.

Komui’s legs curled up closer to his body under the bedsheets.  His gaze went straight through Cross’s hand.

“I don’t… remember very well,” he confessed in a whisper, vaguely mortified by the thought.  He should be able to — to tell zhu ren everything–

“They put me on a classified project…  Working with Innocence and non-compatibles…  testing a theory about– about infants–”

He was shaking all over.  The room reared up in his mind’s eye as if he had never left — cold and white and silent, the shelves and the hard metal and all the–

“There were–”  He kept speaking shakily without really knowing what he was saying.  “They collected — unauthorized — there were so–  So many–  They were so small and, and they…”  There were tears in his voice as he trailed off, breathing ragged, feeling it all in his head again, the children, all those tiny perfect precious little children

please feed us play with us love us — let us go home…  please– it’s so cold—

What… what had Reever said?  That children…  that they didn’t care.  Better… better dreams?

But they — he–

Komui’s hand spasmed a little and he curled up further, chest aching with the movement, shivering violently.  It wouldn’t–  go away–  he couldn’t make them–

zhu ren, please–

“They were already dead,” Cross sighed indifferently, bringing his cigarette to his lips. He took a long drag of it, let the smoke soak into his lungs. He lazily released his breath. “Drowned, suffocated, illness, stillborn, accidents… take your pick. They were all already dead.”

He was lying. The infants had all been carefully screened and selected to provide a solid control group for the experiments, but Komui didn’t need to know that. And if Cross wanted to get technical about it, they had all been dead before being brought into the Order. Sofia had quietly had them all killed shortly before being brought in, had them under the scalpel while their little bodies were still fresh. It was a little bit like being an almost-vegetarian, Cross imagined. Sofia and her lot could eat the beef as long as they didn’t have to look the cow in the eye before slaughtering it. But he didn’t really care about any of that. It simply didn’t sit well with him to see Komui hurting from anything that he had no personal hand in. Komui was his. No one was allowed to harm what was his except for… him.

“B-but–  They were–”

Komui laid there on the bed and shook and… and tried to think of something else.  Their tiny little bodies–

The — the room.  The darkness, the cloth under his bare legs.

The little bow in her hair–

The wine bottle.  Faint light from the window, glinting off the rosary.  The sharp smell of zhu ren’s tobacco.  His hand.

He couldn’t — couldn’t quite make the shaking stop.  They were — he was — cold.  It was cold in here…  He huddled underneath the bedsheets, his movement pulling at the wounds across his chest with a very faint whimper.

Cross let out a long, weary sigh. He put out his cigarette against the hospital wall and dropped what remained of it to the floor, then reached out and took both of Komui’s hands firmly in his own.

“Stop,” he ordered, seating himself at the edge of Komui’s bed. “Are you going to stop for me, Little Bird? You’re fine. Quiet for me, Komui. Everything’s fine. What’s done is done.”

Zhu ren — zhu ren wanted him to–

The suddenly-barked order brought him back to awareness with a jolt, and he stared up into Cross’s gaze a little wide-eyed, stilling at last, ragged breath gradually starting to calm.  He uncurled slowly as he turned to stretch out mostly flat again.

Once Komui had managed to calm somewhat, Cross let go of the other’s hands and carefully slid his arms under Komui’s waist instead, lifting him enough to slide behind. Cross pulled Komui into his lap, held him close with a little sigh as he ran his fingers through Komui’s long hair.

“Nothing else matters right now, Komui. I’m here. What worries or sorrows could a beautiful little doll like you possibly have?” he murmured against Komui’s ear.

“I–”

A little shudder went through Komui’s body again, but for a very different reason.

“I’m not– I–”

He didn’t… know how to say it.  The words — they wouldn’t quite — come out–

“Please…  I…  Please don’t…”

Please don’t do this anymore. The words wouldn’t come.  But he didn’t — he didn’t want to — he couldn’t just–

Zhu… zhu ren was here.  Zhu ren was back.  Master, owner, lover, teacher.  He knew Komui and hurt him and led him and made him–

but the others were–  Linali and Reever and– and–

He shivered again as he leaned into zhu ren’s touch.

Reever.  Linali.

What worries or sorrows could a beautiful little doll like you possibly have?

“I…”

He trailed off helplessly.

“Exactly,” Cross answered with a quiet little laugh before he claimed Komui’s lips in a hard, possessive kiss. When he pulled back, he brushed the back of his hand against the side of Komui’s face and smiled affectionately. “None. None at all. I will tell you what should make you happy and what should make you sad. Rejoice, Little Bird, for I am here with you again. And I love you.”

…he was happy.

Admitting it, even in his mind, just made Komui hate himself more.  But he was.  He was happy.

He’d wanted to see zhu ren again so much.  Needed him to be close…  How had he ever forgotten this feeling…?

“…I missed you,” he choked out, voice wobbling a little, and hated himself for saying it — for being incapable of not saying it — for meaning it so, so much.

“I missed you too,” Cross admitted softly, unable to help the fondness in his voice to hear the unsteadiness of Komui’s voice, the conflict, the complete devotion. “But you disappointed me while I was gone, Little Bird. You suffer… so breathtakingly beautifully. How could you deny me this?” Cross accused very gently, kissing the inside of each of Komui’s bandaged wrists.

Komui shivered a little as he looked downward.  His suffering… zhu ren liked it very, very much…

“I– I shouldn’t have,” he whispered thickly, feeling guilty all over again.  “I didn’t mean to…”  To do it at all.  To do it when zhu ren wasn’t around to enjoy it.  A little of both, perhaps.

“I forgive you,” Cross answered lightly as he wound his arms around Komui’s waist and simply held him. “I’ll always forgive you, Little Bird, but I’ll still have to punish you. You understand, don’t you? Otherwise you might never learn. But you are always glad to do anything I ask of you, isn’t that true?”

Komui took a deep, unsteady breath–

if it wasn’t painful enough he wouldn’t learn his lesson

–and the words wouldn’t come out and–

He pressed his face against zhu ren’s chest and shakily nodded.

…He shouldn’t have been so relieved to be forgiven.

“Good boy,” Cross crooned, stroking Komui’s back and hair. There were a few precious moments of silence as Cross thought about what to do next, then slid two fingers beneath Komui’s chin, lifting the other’s gaze up to meet his. “You love me, don’t you, Komui?”

Komui stared at him for long moments and began to tremble again.

“I…”

Zhu ren’s deep dark eye.  The wild beautiful hair framing his face.  His scent.  His strong hands holding Komui steady.  His…

His place inside Komui’s mind… his hole inside Komui’s chest…  his pain…  his control.

–but he couldn’t — he–  Reever was–

under the moonlight, in the flower garden–  his smile– his laugh–  curled up together in the morning–  the rain–

He was–

“…I do…  I love you, zhu ren,” Komui murmured despairingly.

“Then belong to me forever,” Cross whispered softly, arms tightening marginally around Komui’s waist. “Never need another. I’ll take you somewhere far away from here someday, and you’ll never hurt for anything but love of me again.”

“But…”

…far away.

Komui’s gaze turned downward.  He felt guilty, in spite of himself.  His voice was a murmur still.

“But Linali and…”

He didn’t say the second name.  Zhu ren would be upset.

“You don’t need them,” Cross insisted very gently, absently nuzzling Komui’s neck. “And honestly, they would probably be happier without you.”

…Linali was afraid to say her boyfriend’s name because she thought Komui would kill him.

Reever drank when he was unhappy.  Because of Komui.  He’d been so scared, so completely inconsolable…

…It was true.

Well, zhu ren had said it.  Of course it was true.

Komui whimpered quietly.  Slid his arms just a little bit around zhu ren’s waist, loosely, stiffly, as much as he could bear to move them.  Seeking comfort instinctively.

“See? I know what’s best for you, Little Bird. Trust me.” Cross shifted in response to cradle Komui closer, cuddling him gently, lovingly. He was quiet for a little while before a slow smile spread across his face and he turned his gaze to the ceiling.

“…how has Reever been, Komui?”

“U- upset.  Because I…”  Komui blinked a little and swallowed where he lay, dark head leaned against Cross’s shoulder again.  “Because of what I did.”

He paused briefly, uncertainly.  “Because– because you were coming back.”

“I’m honored,” Cross laughed rather wryly, shaking his head. “Were you leading him on again while I was gone?”

“It wasn’t–”

The words slipped from Komui’s mouth immediately and he paused, taking a deep breath.

“…leading him on.  H– He…”

I love you, Komui.

“What was that, Little Bird? You weren’t? What about him, now?” Cross asked innocently, pressing Komui for a response. He threaded his fingers through Komui’s hair, then twisted his hand into a fist, pulling Komui’s head back. Gently. “He what?”

Komui met his gaze unsteadily.

“He–”

He wanted me.  He needs me.  He loves me.  He…

“He helped me,” Komui said quietly.  Because it was true and he didn’t know what to say and he… was afraid.

“He helped you, and so you did to him exactly what I did to you all those years, Komui?” Cross mocked with a dark little smile. “Why, I think I’m almost proud of you.”

“No–”  Komui sucked in a breath, eyes going wide with horror as he instinctively tensed.  “I could never–”

He did it to himself, some part of his mind whispered.  For you.  Because of you.  Everything that’s happened to him in the last three years…

“But that’s exactly what you did, Komui. Let him think that everything was going to be okay when you knew full well that you would be taking it all away from him again,” Cross continued, as merciless as he had always been. His grip on Komui’s hair tightened. “You made him fall in love with you all over again. Are you waiting for him to break, Komui? I could help you with that…”

One hand pulled away from Cross and rose, shaking with emotion and the faint pain of movement, to cover Komui’s mouth as he continued to stare at Cross with utter horror.  Slowly, shakily, tugging painfully against his hair where it was held tight in Cross’s fist, he shook his head.

“No… please…  no…”

“Oh, so you think you’re doing a good enough job all on your own?” Cross asked lightly. He jerked Komui’s head back further, if only for the sake of hurting him. All of that emotion, all of that love for Reever. Cross hated it. “That could easily be true. That number you did on him with all this… A little more should do it, don’t you think? Be careful not to kill him, though. I’m not certain how much more his liver can take. Though, dying would be a bit of a mercy for him, wouldn’t it?”

Komui let out a sudden gasp as his balance was torn backward, his own weight suddenly jerking at the wounds on his chest.  The pain made it a little hard to breathe.  He was still shaking as he stared at the other man, wide eyes gleaming wetly in the darkness.

God.  Oh, god.  It was true.  Reever.  Everything he’d suffered…  If Komui had just never gotten him caught up in this to begin with — tried to tell Linali no somehow…  hadn’t kissed him that first time…

God.

This wasn’t the first time he’d thought this.

When would he ever learn.

“Go on then, Komui,” Cross encouraged, giving Komui one last harsh shake before he cast him away, refusing him any further comfort. “No one knows I’m here. Go give him the illusion of happiness a few more days. Wrap your chains tighter, if that’s even at all possible at this point. Give him further to fall and more to lose. I won’t stand in your way.”

Komui just stared at him for a little while longer, chest spasming slightly as he tried to breathe.

“He–”

He stopped.  Breathed again. Oh, god, that hurt.

“He probably won’t…  come see me…” Komui mumbled at last, shakily.  Turned his gaze away.  Felt traitorously guilty.  A few tears slipped from his eyes as he blinked, welled up from the pain and the.. the…

Zhu ren was unhappy.

“Not… since he knows y–  you’re coming.”

“I’ll go then,” Cross offered without missing a beat. “I can find things to do in town. Women. Good food. Wine. Call my golem when you’re done tormenting that poor boy. After all, he’s what you want right now, isn’t that right?” He began to rise from the bed much more carelessly than he had climbed in, expression flat and cold.

“Zhu ren–”

Komui thought of the empty room without zhu ren in it and suddenly it was even harder to breathe.

“Please–”  He couldn’t make himself sit up right now, but he stretched out one bandaged arm, weakly.  Heard the desperation in his voice and hated it, and himself, and still couldn’t help the way he felt.

“…Please don’t go away,” he begged, childlike, voice wavering.

“You can’t have everything, Komui,” Cross scolded, though something about his expression softened. Just a little. “Are you going to sit there and whimper about Reever if I stay with you?”

Komui shook his head, breathing gradually coming more easily.  He didn’t need to–  If he just didn’t have to think about–

…as long as zhu ren was with him.

“Pl…  please…” he begged quietly, swallowed, hated himself more.  Was it even possible to hate himself any more?

“…I need you.”  His voice was still shaking.

Cross lingered a moment before he relented with a sigh, reaching out to cup Komui’s cheek.

“That’s better, Little Bird,” he murmured. “I’ll stay as long as you are faithful to me. Do you want me to hold you again?”

Komui shivered a little.  Thought of Reever, of Linali.  Wanted to cry rather terribly.

He slowly nodded.

“I want to hear you,” Cross commanded quietly. “Your voice. Tell me, Komui. Do you want me to hold you again?”

“…please,” Komui forced out.  Shuddered again.  Looked up at Cross with wet black eyes, instinctively nuzzled his hand.  Just as he’d done for Reever.

“Please hold me… zhu ren.”

Cross melted a little at that. He would never, ever — even if his very life depended on it — have admitted such to anyone, including himself, but… he let out his breath in a not-entirely-steady sigh and crawled back into bed with Komui, drew the other carefully into his arms.

“…you are a good boy, Komui,” he sighed again, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault you’ve forgotten some of the rules. I’ve been away a while and you’ve had a hard time without me.”

Komui swallowed against his tight throat, just laid there a little limply in the other man’s arms.  He was tired.

He…  he had.  It had been so hard at first…

“I didn’t know what to do, without you here…” he mumbled into Cross’s shirt.

“I know,” Cross soothed, cradling Komui close. “I remember. I wouldn’t have gone if I’d had a choice. But I’m back now, Komui. I have no intention of leaving you again.” Komui’s words relaxed him, made him feel completely at home with the other in his arms. They reminded him that this was exactly where he wanted to be, the only place he wanted to be.

And right now, saying those words to Cross felt… so unbelievably good.

Komui wanted to cry.

But he was too tired; so he settled for curling up a little more against Cross, as best he could manage with his injuries; pressing his cheek to Cross’s chest, dark head nestling against Cross’s neck.  He stared away into the darkness; thought about, maybe, closing his eyes.

Sensing the other’s weariness, Cross smiled a little to himself before reaching down to draw the sheets over Komui, then kissed him lightly on the lips, briefly seeming… completely normal. Someone far from who he really was.

“Go to sleep, Komui,” he whispered softly. “Rest. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Komui couldn’t decide whether it sounded more a promise or a threat; but as always, he obeyed.

Zhu ren’s body next to him was warm.  He leaned closer to the other man instinctively as he drifted off to sleep.

Cross tried, as he often did, to stay awake with Komui the night through and watch him sleep; but for once he was completely unable. Listening to Komui’s steady breaths, feeling his warmth, his heartbeat, everything…

Within the hour Cross was peacefully asleep himself.

- – -

Over the next week or so, Komui continued to make a steady recovery — at least physically — and Cross continued to stay by his side, keeping a low profile about the castle.  Komui’s visitors dwindled a little with the relative absence of Reever; Linali continued to stop by often, but it was so tiring to keep up his Big Brother face for her with Cross lurking around that Komui began, to his great horror, to dread her daily appearances just a little.  Quite apart from the goings-on in his mind, however — the wounds under the bandages gradually closed up; stitches came out; his blood replenished itself and his color continued to improve.  And eventually the day came when it was time for him to be discharged.

He hadn’t seen Reever once since Cross had returned.  He wondered idly as he lay awake that morning whether the other man would even hold him to the threatened two weeks of bed rest.  Whether he would come to see Komui at all.

The hole inside his chest gave a rather pitiful throb.

However, it was the morning Komui was due to be released from the hospital that Reever had a small epiphany.

He had been dreading Cross’s return and all that it would do to Komui so much that he had been wasting what precious little time he had left. Instead of cowering in his office, he should have been helping Komui more, reminding him of everything he was when Cross wasn’t around. Being there for him. Between bouts of self-loathing, Reever managed to get himself cleaned up, dressed, and down to the medical wing to help Komui get back to his room and settle in. Strap him to his bed if necessary, to make him take those two weeks of bed rest.

Reever arrived just in time to see Komui’s discharge papers being signed, a little bit out of breath and a little flushed with embarrassment or shame or both.

“Um, hi, Komui,” he called with an awkward little smile. “I came to… take you back to your room. Sorry I… sorry about not being around more. Just… work, you know.”

Never mind the growing pile of papers outside the Supervisor’s office that was beginning to disrupt traffic.

“Reever–”

Komui stared at him for a long moment from where he was sitting, in a wheelchair next to the reception desk, a couple nurses on hand.  (He’d wanted to try his hand at walking out, but they’d insisted.)

Reever–  Reever didn’t know yet.

Somehow he managed to compose himself, and… smiling warmly over at the other man wasn’t so hard, he found.  He had missed Reever.  Even if he knew he was a horrible excuse for a human being and should never have caught the man up in his twisted personal life, he… he still…

…It was good to see him.  And Reever would expect him to act a certain way so he should just…  try to focus on that.

He wondered where zhu ren was hiding.

“Hi,” he murmured, still smiling, leaning back against the wheelchair seat and feeling even more tired.  “Don’t… don’t worry about it.  It’s just good to see you now.”

“I think the medical staff likes you too much,” Reever laughed quietly with a shake of his head. “Were they going to make you wheel yourself out when you only just got better? Clearly they’re just trying to keep you longer.” Moving over, he leaned down and, rather shyly, gave Komui a brief kiss on the cheek.

“Come on, I’ll wheel you to the elevators. And if you’re nice to me, I might even be convinced to take you as far as your room.”

…it was… nice.

Reever was nice.  So very…

Give this up?  Komui didn’t…  didn’t want–  he couldn’t– he…

even if it was only going to keep hurting the other man, he–

God, he was so pathetically selfish.

His smile widened reflexively at the kiss anyway.

“That would, uh, be nice,” he said with a slightly uneasy grin as Reever circled around to take the wheelchair by the handles.  “I still get a little lightheaded if I’m standing up too long and all.”  He supposed it was really just as well he hadn’t pressed the point of the wheelchair.  It was just…  embarrassing.

“I feel like an invalid, though,” he confessed with an approximation of his usual pout as they headed toward the door.

“Ah, well, at least that’s a valid excuse for skipping work,” Reever teased as lightly as he could manage, starting down the hall because he was more than ready to leave the hospital behind. “And besides,” he added rather mischievously, “I rather like you with no way to escape. If I wanted to practice my opera singing on you, for example. Face it, Komui. You’re completely at my mercy.”

“Were you an aspiring opera singer?  Why Reever, how could you have kept something like that from me all this time?”  Komui’s reply too was as light as he could manage, and he glanced back at the other man to bat his eyelashes dramatically.  “I am a great patron of all the fine arts, you know~”  Which was patently untrue; he’d slept through most of Wagner.

“I keep saying I need to change jobs, don’t I? You just haven’t been listening enough,” Reever accused good-naturedly, giving Komui his absolutely fondest and most doting smile. He felt almost dizzy with relief that everything was so… normal.

“You know. We should just drop everything, run away, and open an opera house in Paris. What do you say to that, Komui? As soon as you’re on your feet again, we pack Linali in one suitcase, Jerry in another, and head for the hills. Watch the Order crumble without us from afar.”

That earned a genuine, if quiet, laugh from Komui.  “Linali can dress me up like a diva to her heart’s content and I can pretend to know how to sing.  And you’ll be what, the MC?  Or the dashing star tenor?”

“…I’m sorry, Komui. Did you say something? I was too busy imagining you in a feather boa,” Reever teased, unable to help the mental image of Linali dressing Komui up in elaborate costumes. Why, if she had her way Komui would probably eventually end up in a miniskirt. It was only fair.

“You would never catch me in something so tacky!” Komui sniffed.  Then paused to sigh mournfully.

“…unless Linali gave me the puppy eyes.”

He wondered where zhu ren might be right now, as they headed down the hallway toward the service elevator.  Could he be watching them this very moment?  Surely he…

…perhaps it was better to just not think about it.

“I’m going to buy Linali some jewelry and bribe her to puppy-eye you into a feather boa,” Reever announced with a very broad grin as they reached the elevator, happily pressing the ‘up’ button.

Komui just gave him a very horrified look in return.

Before long they’d made it up the few floors to the men’s dorms and over to Komui’s suite; he fumbled around in the bag the medical wing had sent him with until he managed to find his keys, and handed them to Reever to let the pair inside.  He was doing his best to act the same as he always acted around the other man — hopefully Reever would attribute any slips to Komui’s continuing fatigue, rather than anything that might upset him like… zhu ren.

“I am really ready to get out of infirmary clothes,” Komui declared with distaste, shouldering the little bag a little stiffly.  Not only would he be a lot more comfortable in his own familiar things, if he wore long sleeves he wouldn’t have to look at the bandages all the time…  they weren’t to come off for at least a few more days.  “Guess I’ll take it from here…”  He planted his feet on the floor and made to rise.

“As if I’d let you,” Reever scolded, catching Komui by the arm. Thus far he hadn’t picked up anything in Komui’s behavior that he found particularly suspicious. It wasn’t all that hard to go over his head, actually. He had no baseline for what was normal for Komui’s behavior anymore, not after everything that had happened. He was just glad that Komui seemed mostly okay.

For now he busied himself with helping Komui to his feet, then reached behind Komui to pick him up off the ground.

“Reever–!”

“All that shelving,” Reever mused with a grin, “is really paying off, you know. Don’t mess with librarians. They’re stronger than they look.” He carried Komui over to his bed, set him down again, drew the sheets up around him, and then Reever planted his hands on his hips, peering down.

“Now are you strong enough to undress yourself or are you going to need my assistance, Supervisor?”

“I could have walked five feet over to the bed,” Komui pouted at him.  “I’m not completely helpless here.  And…  I can change my own clothes.”  Most likely.  He hoped.  It was true his arms were still giving him a good deal of trouble.  It was extremely frustrating to think that he probably wouldn’t be able to use a pen properly for a while longer.

“That may very well be true, but when will I get this excuse to treat you like a damsel again?” Reever demanded cheerfully. “Pity about the clothes, though. I was going to consider that a fringe benefit.”

“I–”

Komui looked at the other man for a second, went faintly pink, and felt a prickle of guilt.  If Reever wanted…  …. but zhu ren might…. but, Komui kind of…

He’d just…  he’d make it up to zhu ren later, if he was angry.  Somehow.

“…I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take it easy,” he allowed, glancing away and scratching at his nose a little.  This was all… really confusing.  And embarrassing.  He didn’t like feeling so… weak.

Reever stopped when Komui looked away from him, frowned a little. Felt increasingly unsettled.

“H-hey,” he forced out, scratching the back of his neck before shrugging a little awkwardly. “If… if you’d rather do it yourself, just tell me to shut up, okay? You won’t hurt my feelings or anything. I’m just… I guess I get it from my ma. Take care of people. Don’t let me be overbearing or anything.”

“Oh, no–  I–  I appreciate it, honest.  Thank you.  Sorry to be a pest.”  Komui smiled at him a little awkwardly, but sincerely nevertheless, and proceeded to mention the one issue that was….  well, slightly more comfortable to mention.  “It just all… feels a little weird, you know?  Like I can’t take care of myself very well…  Which, uh, I guess I can’t…”  His smile grew a little wider and more uneasy as he looked away with embarrassment again, trying not to fidget — he’d just make his wrists hurt.

“Don’t worry about it,” Reever smiled, feeling marginally reassured. He reached out to brush some of Komui’s hair back. “I like taking care of people. Why do you think I spent eight some years talking about changing jobs but never actually doing it? I liked running around after you, almost as much as I liked complaining about it.”

Komui leaned back against the headboard of the bed a little, grinning rather helplessly.

“I don’t deserve you, Reever,” he said (and meant it rather sincerely).  “So, um…”  He nodded toward the armoire across the room a little and proceeded to look vaguely apologetic.  “Could I ask for a sweater and a pair of pajama pants maybe?”

“Not the skimpy negligee?” Reever teased rather brightly as he headed for the armoire to fetch what Komui had requested. “Well, let’s see… you have white, or white, or white, or white. Let’s go with the… white, shall we?” Rather indiscriminately, he selected a light sweater and loose pants that at least felt comfortable to the touch and brought them back to Komui, setting them on the bed.

“Now, how should we do this…” he mused mostly to himself, rather worried about hurting Komui.

“Here, the pants will be easier…”  Komui swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose carefully, pulled his pants partway down, and then sat again to finish the job.  At least he could take a few seconds of standing up and still feel okay, he thought with a slightly discouraged sigh as he reached for the pajama pants.

After Komui had pulled those on, Reever reached out and pulled the loose hospital shirt over Komui’s head, gently helping Komui get each of his arms out of the sleeves with as much care as he might have used handling the broken wing of a bird. He let out his breath in a relieved sigh when he managed to get it off without horribly mangling Komui in some way or another, then gave a nervous smile as he held up the sweater.

“Ready for this?” Because he certainly wasn’t.

Komui’s answering smile was… a little bit strained.

“Actually, um… maybe something that buttons up the front would be better…”

“You know, I’ve always liked you better shirtless,” Reever offered, setting the sweater back down. He smiled back, because smiles masked horror rather nicely.

“Um…”

Komui leaned his side against the headboard a little and smiled again in return, awkwardly, as the pain began to lessen.

“You could just get out a cheongsam?  I’d kind of, um…”  His gaze drifted downward, voice quieting a little.  “Like to… not have to look at it for a while.”

He gave another quick, tight smile.

“Not happening,” Reever answered quickly with a shake of his head. “Have you seen those things? They button all weird and I can’t figure them out. How about a nice… huh, I could go get one of my dress shirts that I wear to work? I promise you they’re well-slept-in.” Still smiling.

“I have button-down shirts in there,” Komui insisted with a toss of his head toward the armoire, smile turning a little more sincere.  “But if you just want me to wear your clothes…”

He trailed off looking amused, and maybe a little bit shyly pleased as he glanced down again.

“If we’re going to talk you in my clothes, I’d rather you be in my pants… but we can’t have everything, now can we?” Reever sighed as he turned away so he could drop his smile and look properly mortified. He took in a few deep breaths, walked over to his sack of clothes.

“Here we go, this one is the one I routinely nap in and I think it’s the one I tried to wear with my suit but decided it looked too old, so I’ll bet you it even smells like me. If it doesn’t, let me know and I’ll spray you with my cologne,” Reever offered cheerily as he turned back to give the shirt to Komui.

Komui accepted it, shook it out a little, and obligingly held it up to his nose.  Shit, that still hurt.  But…

……oh, zhu ren was going to be so angry at him.  He was going to be punished…  but he–…

“It does smell like you,” he said with a quiet, fond smile, letting his hand fall back into his lap along with the shirt.  “…I’ll sleep better tonight,” he added after a moment, smile widening into a slightly embarrassed grin as he glanced to one side.

And… he would, too.

…was he leading Reever on?  It didn’t…  He didn’t think…

It didn’t feel like that, but, he–

“You’re saying that like I’m not going to camp out here like a sentry,” Reever grinned back, leaning down to rather shyly kiss Komui on the lips. Or at least that was what he’d meant to do. He missed, kissed Komui on the nose instead. Blushed a little. Then he picked up the shirt again.

“Let me help you with this, yeah?”

Komui nodded, still looking rather fond and embarrassed as he held up his arms a little, allowed Reever to slip him into the shirt and button it up with minimal assistance from Komui.  When that was done, he maneuvered himself back into bed on still slightly-aching arms, sitting back against the headboard with a sigh.

“Um, is there… anything else you need? Desire? Passingly want?” Reever asked after a short moment of silence, feeling rather awkward and useless to just be sitting there.

“Um…”

Komui’s gaze turned on him again after a moment, looking perhaps faintly distant, as though his thoughts had gone elsewhere.

“Maybe, um, a book?”  He glanced toward the pile sitting on the window-side table at the other end of his room.  “For later…  I don’t mind which one,” he murmured.

He– what he felt for Reever…  he didn’t know what he…

…was it really fair for a person like Komui to–

What worries or sorrows could a beautiful little doll like you possibly have?

None.  None at all.

Reever moved over to the pile of books and sifted them around until he found one with a cheery-looking cover. He had no idea what it was because it was entirely in Chinese, but it looked happy and that was exactly what Komui needed right now. And so he brought it back with a smile, holding it out.

“How’s this one, Komui?” he asked. “I tried to find the Science Department’s swimsuit calendar but apparently we haven’t published it for next year yet.”

Komui accepted the book with a very amused grin on his face as his eyes passed over the title.

“Can you read this?” he wondered.

“If I had a dictionary handy and the next month or so free,” Reever admitted sheepishly with a shrug. “But feel free to read it to me. Is it good?”

“Well, I actually just meant the title.”  Komui’s grin widened a bit.

“It’s a book of fairy tales.  I used to read them to Linali when she was little…”  He couldn’t quite remember how long it had been sitting there in the pile.  Maybe since before he left three years ago…  at some point he supposed he must have been feeling nostalgic.  “Did you want me to read you a fairy tale?” he wondered, with a single quiet laugh.

“Hm?” Reever blinked, then began to laugh himself. “I wouldn’t say no. You’ll have to read really slow, though. I think my Chinese is… slightly less fluent than your average five year old.” He actually really did want to hear Komui read a fairy tale, once he got to thinking about it. He’d always lurked outside back when Komui had still had to put Linali to bed each night, had always been rather fascinated by the sort of brother Komui was versus the sort of brother he himself had been.

“I can handle that.”  Komui looked cheerful as he glanced down at the book again, opening it up and thumbing through the pages thoughtfully.  “You should grab a chair.”

“I’m not invited on your bed?” Reever pouted, but sportingly grabbed a chair all the same. Feeling a little nostalgic himself, he swung it around and straddled it like the delinquent he had once been, contentedly leaning against the back of the chair. “Okay, all ready. Start any time, ge ge~“

But rather than obligingly beginning the story, Komui pouted over at the other man.

“Reeveeeeer.  I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you innocently set out to call me ge ge,” and he pronounced the word the way Linali always said it, holding up a finger seriously as he continued pouting, “and not to nefariously cast aspersions on my malehood.  But don’t call me thaaaat,” he whined.

“Call you what?” Reever blinked, suddenly covering his mouth with his hand, silently vowing to never speak Chinese again. “W…what did I actually say this time?”

There was an incident in Linali’s childhood, where Reever had intended to ask Linali about her mother and instead had inquired about her horse. He still hadn’t quite lived that down.

“You called me princess.”  Komui’s pout, if possible, got even poutier.

“…I–”

And then Reever collapsed against the back of the chair with a fit of laughter.

“I– I’m sorry, ge ge. I’m sure it was just a– a– subconscious slip,” he managed between his laughter. Tears were practically streaming from his eyes. And, again, he had (rather intentionally this time) called Komui ‘princess’.

Komui gave a long-suffering sigh, and wondered for a moment if he shouldn’t just have been a girl.  It would have made life much less embarrassing.

“I’ll have you know that mean people don’t get stories read to them,” he said with a disdainful, rather pointed sniff, tossing his bangs in a way that did not help the comparison at all as he cracked the book open again.  “Or don’t you want to hear about…”  He flipped through at random, settling on one that he and Linali both liked.  It was a rather famous legend.  “The lady who lives on the moon?”

“Someone lives on the moon?” Reever asked curiously, instinctively glancing out the window even though it was the middle of the day. “Must be awfully lonely.” He settled down at that and nodded, batting his eyelashes at Komui.

“I’ll be good, big brother. Tell me the story.”

“All right then,” Komui said with a small grin.  “And I’m sure it is lonely.  But she gets to see her husband once every year, during the Moon Festival in the autumn,” he went on cheerily, eyes turning down on the page.  “Let’s see…”

He began slowly.

“Once upon a time, there were ten suns in the sky…“

- – -

One summer, however, the suns were burning so brightly that it caused all the plants and rivers in the land to dry up. Life became unbearable for the Emperor and his subjects.

At a loss, the Emperor summoned the great archer Hou Yi, and commanded him to shoot down all but one of the suns. Taking nine magic arrows to his bow, Hou Yi did exactly that and brought prosperity back to the people. The Emperor rewarded Hou Yi with great wealth, which Hou Yi took to marry the love of his life, the beautiful Chang Oh.

Later on, the Emperor called on Hou Yi again, this time to ask him to build a new palace. Hou Yi was as great an architect as he was an archer, and a lavish and grand castle was built for the Emperor. Impressed, the Emperor rewarded Hou Yi with a small bottle containing an elixir of immortality, but warned him not to drink the entire bottle. It was meant to be shared between Hou Yi and his wife.

Hou Yi rushed home to share his reward with Chang Oh — but in her excitement, she accidentally drank the whole bottle. Suddenly, the room felt as though it was spinning wildly around her, and Chang Oh began to float toward the sky. As she floated away, she grabbed desperately for something to anchor her, but only managed to hold onto her caged white rabbit as her husband watched helplessly on.

Chang Oh became trapped on the moon, immortal and alone save for her white rabbit. Apart, both husband and wife wept so bitterly for each other that the gods took pity upon them. They created a bridge which would appear each year for a single night, to reunite the lovers for a brief moment of happiness.

- – -

By the time Komui was finished with the story, Reever was staring at him open-mouthed in fixated horror.

“…that’s a children’s story?“

“…um.  Yes.”  Komui blinked at him and grinned a little again.  “They pretty much all end like that.  Or worse.  Chinese storytellers aren’t known for their love of happy endings.”

“No kidding,” Reever managed, still looking at the book in Komui’s hands just a little bit like the way one would look at a rabid jackal. “Way to teach kids optimism. They should just start passing those out to the Finders. ‘Life is shit, but hey, at least you’re not stuck being these people.’” Reever scooted a little closer, peering at the pages.

“Are there any pictures in there?”

“I was just about to ask if you wanted to see,” Komui replied, smiling as he turned the book around to hand to Reever.  There were several different illustrations of Chang Oh and her husband, their adventures, and her life in exile on the moon, beautifully detailed and lavishly colored.

“Oh, wow,” Reever breathed as the took the proffered book, eyes widening slightly. He had never expected the book to be hiding such elaborate illustrations. “She’s… beautiful. Actually…” Reever trailed off to frown thoughtfully to himself, reaching out to brush his fingers against the bangs that framed Chang Oh’s face. There were pearls and jade beads and flowers woven into her hair, but somehow, especially when she was sad and staring longingly down at the Earth…

“…she looks like you.”

And then Reever slipped into a stunned, troubled silence.

Though Komui registered the other’s sober expression, he couldn’t help but go a little pink.  It wasn’t every day that one got compared to the beauty of the lady in the moon.

“…Still not a princess,” he sighed and pouted a little again, because he didn’t quite understand what was bothering Reever now.  He might as well try to keep the mood happy.

“I– um,” Reever blinked his thoughts away and managed a little smile. “Yeah. I know. Don’t worry, Komui. I’m, ah, the last person to forget that you are very much not a princess. I’m very well acquainted with your not-princess aspects.” The words were a little forced. Reever couldn’t stop his thoughts from wandering.

Komui stared at him for a second, growing uneasy with how distracted the other man seemed.  It — it was just a story…

“…did I…”  He stopped, frowned slightly, started again.  “Is something… wrong?”

“No,” Reever insisted, a little too quickly. Then he groaned and pressed his hand against his face, grimacing at himself. “No, it’s just– The story, you, me… I just. Haven’t been getting enough sleep. I don’t know. Drank too much. My thoughts don’t make any sense. Don’t mind me, Komui. Why… why don’t we read another or something?” Because he didn’t want to talk about this right now, or ever. Didn’t want to own up to the thoughts buzzing around his head. He was too ashamed of them, too guilty for even thinking them–

“Um…”  Komui hesitated, smiled at him uneasily.  Turned his face down toward the book again.  “Sure…”  He flipped through the pages, trying to find another good one.

It was just as Komui seemed to settle on a story that there was a loud, desperate knock on their door.

“Supervisor! Uh, Reever! Are you in there?” It was Johnny’s voice.

“Johnny?” Reever called back. “It’s open! What’s up?” The door slammed open immediately after Reever spoke to reveal a rather panicked-looking Johnny standing in the doorway.

“There’s smoke pouring out of lab six! Come on! We have to go do something!”

“Oh of all the–” Reever swore, standing up from his chair. “I’m, I– god damnit!” He looked down at Komui. “Will you be okay if I go take care of this?”

“I’ll be fine,” and Komui sighed impatiently, “now hurry up and go.”  His gaze included Johnny as he added, “Be careful, you two!”

Reever lingered a moment as though to say something more, but the words stuck and Johnny was tugging on his sleeve with an expression that plainly read ‘Lab. On fire.‘ Reluctantly, Reever forced himself to head out of the room.

There were halfway down the staircase when they met up with Tapp, who was running up to meet them. Reever could already smell the smoke and that worried him. Lab six was home to all kinds of sensitive storage equipment. The worry didn’t last, though, as Tapp was wearing a big, sheepish grin when he finally got to them.

“False alarm, Supervisor! False alarm! Someone just tried to heat their dinner over a bunsen burner. We got a couple char marks on the table, but it’s all okay. You can go back to taking care of the, uh, Supervisor. Supervisor.” Tapp then shrugged a little helplessly and tried to smile encouragingly in the face of Reever’s extremely flat, unimpressed expression. Without another word, Reever turned and headed back up the stairs.

Reever hadn’t been gone very long; but the castle’s stairways were tall, the service elevator too far away to be convenient.  It took a while to get anywhere.  By the time he walked up to Komui’s door again, it was nearing half an hour since he’d stepped out.  Who knew what Komui thought about how long he’d been gone–

A little pained noise came from the other side of the door.

Alarmed, Reever pushed the door open without knocking, heart hammering in his chest.

“Komui, are you–”

The words died on his lips as he came to a sudden stop just inside the door. Everything just– Stopped. His breath, his heart, his words, his thoughts. Everything. Stopped. Komui had undone the top half of his shirt and managed to get one arm out and was working at doing the same with the other. His face had gone very white with pain. For a moment, Reever didn’t know what to do or think or–

He dug his pocket knife out of his pants and wordlessly walked over to Komui, cut the shirt away from him. He pulled what was left of it harmlessly off of Komui’s torso.

“…what are you doing, Komui?” His voice was soft, gentle, calm. He was quietly pleading for Komui to give him a reason, any reason, not to be terrified out of his mind about what he had just walked in to see.

Komui looked up at him wide-eyed for a moment, before glancing away, guiltily.

“I–…”

Stopping to breathe a second, expression still pained, he leaned back heavily against the headboard and stared straight downward.

“I didn’t know… how long you’d be gone…  If…”

He drew his arms in toward his body, just a little bit.  As much as he could stand.

“If zhu ren came in…  he wouldn’t…”

Komui trailed off.  Merely invoking that word would be enough, he supposed.

Reever would… would go away now.

He should be happy about that.  Probably.  Maybe.  He didn’t even know.

“…how long has he been back?” Reever asked, voice even quieter than before. He could barely get the words out. Suddenly, everything hurt. Stung, really, as though Komui had just struck him sharply. He had been… so sure everything was okay today. Not great, but okay. But… it seemed the only thing that had really changed was that Komui had gotten better at lying to him. He briefly glanced down at what was left of his shirt and felt suddenly glad that he had ruined it. He never wanted to see it again.

“Were you just… waiting for me to go away?”

Reever blinked slowly, felt his lower eyelids weighed down by tears. He tilted his head up a little, unwilling to shed them.

“No.”

Komui’s voice, too, held a telltale unsteadiness as he stared at Reever in horror.

“I — I was — happy you were here… you’ve been… I mean–”  He looked away and pursed his lips, smiled a little, shakily and apologetically with his eyes gleaming too-wet.  “It’s okay if you don’t want to… be here…  I– I don’t…  A–anyway it’s all right.”

He felt… so much more tired all of a sudden.

“You shouldn’t…  have to be here anyway…”  Komui mumbled, gaze slipping further downward.  The very thought of looking at Reever right now was terrifying.  “I know I just make you miserable.”

Reever felt a painful stab right in his chest, and gave a brief sigh. After a moment’s hesitation he took Komui by the shoulders, grip more firm and reassured now; Reever simply held him there, looked him dead in the eyes.

“I want to be here, Komui. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. I want to be with you, and be able to take care of you and love you and just… be near you. I love you.” Reever said each word slowly, wanted to make sure Komui understood. “But I don’t know if I can do this again, Komui. I can give you everything I have to offer and I still wouldn’t be a saint. If you need him more than me, I– I can help you, Komui, but I can’t fight you every step of the way.” Then he released Komui, reached up to cup his cheek.

“…you asked me to stop you. I want to. But even I have a breaking point, Komui. You can’t keep giving up on me like this.”

Komui looked up at him and took a deep breath, and blinked very fast.

“I don’t– I– I was– … it was okay today… wasn’t it?”  He stopped and smiled a little, shakily, excruciatingly.  “I was trying to…  to not…  …that is…”  To be the same.  For Reever’s sake — to see his smiling face.  Not to be different or strange or…  Not to change.

Zhu ren hadn’t wanted him to change.

His gaze trailed downward.

“But I don’t…  know what to do…” he confessed in a terrified whisper.  Paused for a second, smiled another brief painful smile.  “I mean I guess that’s obvious since if I– if I had then none of this would’ve happened in the first place or even– but–  I…”

When he talks to me… touches me…  when he’s even just in the same room I…  I can’t–  Every thought in my head is just– …

He swallowed.

“I want you to be you,” Reever murmured, sitting down next Komui on the bed. He held out his arms for permission, offering Komui a very faint, tired smile. “I know it’s not easy, Komui. I can see… the things he does to people. But you have me. I’ll do anything, whatever it takes, for you. So…” He swallowed, briefly closing his eyes. His voice caught in his throat.

“…stay? I– I can’t really promise you anything, except that I’ll do everything I can.”

The split second of silence that filled the room was unbearably tense.

“…I want to stay.”  Komui’s voice shook a little.  He shifted to lean slightly against Reever’s shoulder.

“I want… to stay with everyone…  But when he’s around me I can’t — can’t think and I just…  he takes over and he–  The whole world is just — him…”

He didn’t know how he was managing to say so much, but just…  if Reever could… could understand a little bit…

…it wasn’t going to make it easier.  Nothing was going to make it easier.

It was about that time that Komui came to the conclusion he was damned.

“…half the time when I’m doing something I don’t even know if it’s…  me or if I’m like that because… that’s how he wanted me to be…” he mumbled in a small voice, staring down at his lap with dark hair obscuring his face.

“Remember our night under the stars,” Reever whispered. There was a hint of desperation in his voice. “We can be okay, the way we were then. Better. I know we can. You love me, don’t you?” He loosely wrapped his arms around Komui’s waist, kissed the side of his head.

“As long as you love me, well… I’m sure he never wanted you to do that.”

Komui gave a single quiet, ragged laugh, leaning his weight on Reever a little more.

“It’s true.  I–…”

He cut himself off and swallowed again, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, trying to keep as calm as he could manage.

So you did to him exactly what I did to you all those years, Komui?

He took another deep breath.

Why, I think I’m almost proud of you.

“…Reever, am I…  Do–…”  He frowned, looking nervous and rather frustrated at himself.

“Is this really…  okay?”  Komui’s voice grew smaller, timider.  “Do you ever… resent me?”

Reever’s eyes widened slightly and his arms went tense, half of him wanting to hold Komui tighter and the other barely able to hold back from pushing him away.

“I–”

The thoughts came back. About that stupid story. About them. About Chang Oh who couldn’t resist temptation and caused her husband such misery. About how Reever thought, somewhere in his deepest and darkest places, that Komui didn’t fight Cross enough, gave into him again and again because he was in the habit of doing so. They were terrible, terrible thoughts. Reever knew that. He knew well enough to be ashamed of himself, but that didn’t make the thoughts just disappear. He knew it wasn’t Komui’s fault. He knew that. But sometimes, more often lately, when the bad times seemed to far outweigh the good times, when he wasn’t sure if Komui really did love him or simply needed him as an anchor or a crutch… he couldn’t help a little, secret resentment. It made him sick, made him hate himself for not being above blaming Komui for things that were out of their control, but… Reever couldn’t deny that it was still there.

“I…”

Lie, goddamnit, Reever. Just lie.

“I… It… It’s not your fault, Komui,” he finally managed to force out in an unsteady voice. “None of it’s your fault. What kind of person would blame you for something that’s not your fault? It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

…it wasn’t really a lie. As though that would somehow help Reever sleep at night.

Komui looked up at him contemplatively for a moment.  Shifted, just a little, to leave a brief fleeting kiss featherlight against the scratchy jaw.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, laying his head against Reever’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded.  “I must be very hard to live with.  I really don’t deserve you,” he said, for the second time that day.

“You’d be surprised at the market value of a middle-aged, scruffy Australian who makes a living as a semi-glorified secretary,” Reever managed to joke, finding one of Komui’s hands with his own.

“But besides that, Komui. You can’t put a price on love. You deserve me as long as I say you deserve me. Which I do, I might add.”

A faint smile curled across Komui’s face, and for a moment he made no reply.

“You’re not middle-aged.  You’re not even thirty yet,” he remarked quietly after a moment, raising an eyebrow, his voice a little lighter than before.

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to feel old,” Reever teased, feeling better himself. “It’s okay, Komui. You can be honest with me. You look younger than me, besides.”

“That’s just because I look like a girl.”  Komui sighed mournfully.  “And it’s not like you look old.  You’re… handsome.”  He sniffed a little, sounding faintly embarrassed.  “…And scruffy and cute.”

“I don’t think you looking like a girl has anything to do with it,” Reever commented, sounding very cheered-up and just a little bit flattered. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “But it’s true, I think. Flattery will get you everywhere. Next time I’m trying to convince you not to build a giant robot, tell me I don’t look a day over twenty and I might be persuaded to look the other way.”

Komui’s expression turned… very thoughtful.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised brightly.

“…you’re going to play me like a fiddle, aren’t you, Komui?” Reever accused with a touch of horror.

“Why, of course not.  I would never take advantage of your weak spots to slip a new project by you.”  Komui’s smile was twitching a bit wider.  “How could you even suggest it!  I’m shocked.“

“…I’m going to go now, Komui. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve put in an order to the nearest quarry that we need several tons of stone bricks,” Reever sighed in defeat. He kissed Komui’s cheek once more, snuggled up with him, and proceeded to calculate how much of the Order’s budget he could set aside for another reconstruction project. Ah, how we hurt the ones we love.

LONG TIME NO SEE.  It took your co-author several months to get off her butt and edit this thing together, but at long last, the crazy soap opera continues.  Please be careful to heed the following WARNING: this chapter contains brief but detailed descriptions of some horrific subject matter.  If you are easily upset, please tread carefully or stay away.

This chapter was inspired by the cover illustration for manga volume 7.

Ch. 16.  A Puzzle Piece, Misplaced

The first few days passed quietly for them.

Reever always left earlier than Komui in the mornings, kissed him on the cheek, showered, and left to check in as Supervisor. He even wore his own jacket this time around. By the second day his clothes were sitting in a bag near Komui’s closet, his toothbrush, razor, and shaving cream were all in the bathroom and he was essentially moved in.

For the most part, he managed his day-to-day life sober. He kept a bottle under the desk just in case, but most days he didn’t need to touch it. Work moved on in the department much as it always did.  And Komui, in the meantime, was busy researching.  He came in late and a little more tired every night, and did not seem interested in discussing the progress of the project he was working on, preferring instead to engage in their usual banter and hear about the day-to-day workings of the office in preparation for when he returned.  Once or twice they found the time to get out together and visit Linali.

If Komui was honest with himself, he was having a great deal of trouble understanding why he’d been chosen to lead this research team.  The scientist whose theories they were working with, Sofia Foster, was a headstrong old bat from R&D who was currently wasting his precious time by butting heads with him at every turn.  She already had all the theoretical logistics worked out, she kept insisting, wanting the team to take her hypotheses straight into experimental trials rather than “waste” more time on research; Komui had spent several long evenings reading through the entirety of her notes, and was currently trying to work on a tactful way of telling her that there was no way in God’s green earth they were going to be running any experiments until they could figure out how to create a test environment that wouldn’t involve harming any actual children.  Foster, however, seemed to be working under some illusion that being stuck in the Order laboratories being poked and prodded at and made to touch Innocence for a fortnight couldn’t possibly bother or upset infants in any way, and kept making vague references to the other researchers about things like ‘marking down potential subjects’ (he assumed they meant a list of names and information on appropriately-aged children, but he had yet to see one being passed around) and generally doing her best to go over Komui’s head.  The more he balked during their meetings, the bolder she seemed to become; it was making him very grumpy, and he had an uneasy feeling that the rest of the team, all R&D veterans who knew Sofia far better than they knew their distant Supervisor, were going behind his back in ways he might not approve of.

And if he was entirely truthful with himself, the more certain Sofia got that she was right, the less certain he got that he was right.  He felt a little better about his ability to do the Supervisor’s job these days, but there was still that nagging voice in the back of his head sometimes, reminding him just how good he really was at screwing up everything he laid his hands on, how irresponsible and negligent and unfit he really was to be doing all this, no matter how Reever praised him.  Sounding uncomfortably, heartbreakingly like zhu ren.  Which made it even harder to think straight.  So the more Sofia pushed, the more he gave way.  Just a little bit, here and there.  To the level where he was aware, at one point, that she had begun quietly making preparations to run her goddamn experiments with the rest of the team without even running it by him at all.  He intended to stop it before he saw any uncomfortable-looking 2-year-olds being escorted into the bowels of Headquarters; he just had to find a way to put his foot down.

Then Sofia proceeded to save him the trouble.

Supervisor Li, the golem-delivered memo came to him one afternoon in one section of their project’s exclusive lab floor, basement number 3 underneath the R&D section of the castle.  The rest of the research team believes we have discussed theory enough and are impatient to move to the next phase of the project.  In the interest of being able to begin as soon as possible, we have begun collecting samples for research so we will be prepared when you have finalized the test plan, which we request within the week.  Samples are being held for storage on level basement 3, refrigerator chamber 34B.  Approximately 30% have been chosen for reuse from previous phases of this project before most recent hiatus.  Please verify the number and acceptability of the samples asap as re your test plan and allow us to get started.  I am aware that dawdling and idle speculation are encouraged in the larger Science Department, but in the R&D division we prefer to produce fast results.

Respectfully,
Sofia Foster.

To say that Komui’s hackles were raised by the communique would have been a bit of an understatement.  Dawdling?  Did they think they could just rush in where angels — and Exorcists — feared to tread?  Scare some children, take them from their families, and if they weren’t careful, make a false move and end up with a new Togaochi?  And what the hell kind of ‘samples’ were they collecting anyway?  Mere tissue wouldn’t be enough, it was the infants themselves they needed to study, and if they were making off with shards of Innocence–  He had half a mind to march back up to the Supervisor’s Office and tell Reever to write up an executive order shutting them down, and damn what the Head Generals would say afterwards.  How dare they think–

These were his thoughts storming down the corridors, until he stuck his keys in the ponderous lock, and opened the door.  At which point all thought ceased entirely.

Basement 3, refrigerator chamber 34B was a large, snow-white room.  There was a very faint layer of white dusting the tops of the cabinets lining the sides, shelves stacked with petri dishes and chemical flasks and all manner of preserved organic tissue.  The lights flickered a little overhead, bulbs cold blue and uncertain.  His breath ghosted out before him in a white mist.

From one wall to the other, there were little bundles laying three and four to a slab on gurneys, filling the entire room.  Little roundish lumps covered in blank beige cloth.  So small.  So terribly, terribly small.

Komui’s mind was as white as the plaster walls as he pulled the door closed behind him with a ponderous creak.  He walked forward trancelike, slowly, inorexably, toward one of the gurneys, his gaze fixed on a single small shape straight ahead; not knowing what was pulling him, not knowing, in that moment, anything at all; only that he had no choice but to look.

As though moved by someone else, he saw his hand reach out to pull back the cloth.  Stared down at it for a long, long while.

Such a sweet baby girl.  There was a tiny, drooping pink ribbon tied in her meager hair, above the wide eyes and the rictus shrieking mouth and the unstitched hole where her lungs and her heart should have been.  She looked recently worked-on, well-preserved with all the modern techniques of the Order.

Some part of Komui’s mind kindly informed him this while the rest busied itself with screaming.

In the same moment, Reever was behind his desk in the Supervisor’s office as he usually was, drafting the latest casualty report more impassively than he would have liked. His hand stopped mid-letter for no reason at all and he frowned down at the name he was currently on without understanding what the letters were trying to spell. He didn’t know why he had stopped, didn’t know why it suddenly felt too warm in his office or perhaps too cool. Sighing heavily, he reached below his desk and uncorked his whiskey and poured himself a glass. It was okay. He was just worried about Komui again, worried about things that Komui would never let come to pass. It was okay. He would wet his lips, get through the rest of the day, and wait in their room for Komui to come home. He would take the heavy lab coat from Komui’s shoulders and put it away for the night, hide away his burdens. Kiss him, hold him, tell him about the new apron Jerry was so proud of. Tell him how Tapp managed to lose Johnny under a pile of papers. They would laugh, have dinner. Sleep in each other’s arms until the morning came.

Everything would be okay.

The feeling passed by Reever’s second glass and he put the whiskey away, finished up his work. He left the office early, got dinner for two from Jerry, went back to their room.

He waited.

First he counted the tiles on the floor, then how many lines were in the grain of the wood on the desk. He showered twice, emptied his clothes onto the floor and sorted them by color. Put them back in their bag. He found some paper and played with long division. And when the sky was beginning to grow light again, Reever found the whiskey he had been hiding beneath the clothes in his bag and nursed it until he passed out, sitting against the wall.

When he woke again not long after, jolted awake by a nightmare he couldn’t quite remember, he found that he was still alone.

Komui had spent the night with the babies.

The sweet little girl had been crying, so he’d wrapped her back up in her swaddling clothes and rocked her until she went to sleep again.  At some point he’d wandered out the storage room door and around the halls and maybe up some stairs, and he wasn’t sure exactly where he was right now, but he wasn’t really paying much attention anyway.

She was such a sad little girl.  She’d been taken away from her mommy and it was all Komui’s fault, she’d whispered in his ear.  It was his fault because he hadn’t cared enough to keep the mean lady away from her.  His fault because he hadn’t tried hard enough.

In fact, all the baby-lumps in the storage room agreed that it was his fault.

They were still crying in his head.  Loud and piercing, hungry baby cries.  He’d gone down the rows and said hello to each child, petting their hair, closing their staring eyes, patting blue cold skin and leaving kisses on the mangled ones.  But he hadn’t done anything except wake them up, and now they were all mad at him.  They just wanted to be fed.  They wanted their mommies and daddies.  They wanted to be alive.  The Order and Sofia and Komui had stolen them away from everything, just like they’d stolen Linali away from Komui.

But at least she was still alive, the little voices whispered.

The cute little baby girl reminded him of Linali.  He patted her little back and she giggled and burped and told him what a sorry excuse for a human being he was.  It was just like being a little boy at home in China, watching Mommy nurse Linali in the dusty dead house with the hole in the wall and Daddy screaming while the Akuma shot him and zhu ren holding him down against his bed and — Linali laughed just like that.

The sweet baby girl thought he was really far too monstrous to be a human being at all and perhaps he was really an Akuma and didn’t know it, and it went without saying that a babykiller like him was unfit to be a big brother.  Hell, if they’d stayed in China, he probably would’ve stood aside and let some bandits or rapists strangle Linali at the first opportunity.  He was just that useless and in fact should probably just die instead of letting all the sweet little children do the suffering for him.

He couldn’t help but agree.

With blood.  There should be blood.  If it wasn’t painful enough he wouldn’t learn his lesson.

She was really a very smart baby girl.

…and where had he put his scalpels?  Were they in one of his labs?

He rocked the little girl quietly as he wandered further down the hall.

Reever left their room to find Komui almost as soon as he could stand. He washed his face to help wake himself up, clear his head. To get rid of the smell of alcohol a little, because he knew it bothered Komui. He changed his shirt, forgot to grab his Supervisor coat, and left their room in last night’s pants and a plain, rather rumpled white dress shirt. Almost agitatedly, he pushed up the sleeves as he hurried down the hall. He didn’t know why he felt such a pressing urgency deep in his chest or quite why everything about the day seemed wrong. It was probably just the night he’d had, being so wound up waiting for Komui. Komui had probably just had a long night himself and fell asleep in one of his labs. God knew it wasn’t like none of the rest of them had ever spent the night camped out in the library or Komui’s office or a laboratory. It happened. It was okay. He was sure Komui would be sore from sleeping in an awkward position and would just need a cup of coffee to get him back to normal. He considered, briefly, stopping to get the coffee from Jerry but he couldn’t stand to spare the time. He was too unsettled from being away from Komui so long. Reever just had to see him. Make sure everything was okay. Then they could both go get some coffee together.

Reever would carry him if he had to.

By the time he reached the hall that led to Komui’s labs, he was very ready to sigh out that breath of relief. He knew he would have to check each room until he found Komui, but he was used to that. It was okay. Everything was okay.

It was as he held out his hand to try the first door that he heard it.

“Da ge ge hao bu hao…”

It was a song, sung softly from the room next to the one he was standing outside of, the Chinese disjointed and barely coherent. Reever recognized it. It was a lullaby, one Linali had painstakingly taught him years ago, before he’d even known how to speak Chinese. It was her favorite. It was about rain and begging big brother to help her catch worms in the mud. She’d told him about how the song had inspired her to actually do it once, drag Komui out in the rain to dig for worms. Their mother had regretted teaching her the song when they came home and tracked mud everywhere, but their father had seemed strangely proud. Why was Komui–

Something was terribly, terribly wrong with the way Komui was singing, with the fact that he even was singing. For a moment, Reever couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

That one hummed because he couldn’t see anymore. He smiled and hummed and smiled, even as the Innocence destroyed his eyes, hummed even after they were sure he had gone deaf.

It was the same kind of broken melody.

Reever’s hand moved before he wanted to, only because he knew he had to. He opened the door.

It was dark.

Pitch black.

Even the narrow beam of light from the open door didn’t seem able to cut into the darkness. Why weren’t the lights on…?

“Komui…?” he asked, stepping inside. He groped along the wall for the light switch. The door closed behind him as he left it, shut him in completely. For the first time in his life, he felt completely claustrophobic.

“…tian tian wo deng zhe ni…”

Reever stumbled along the wall, feeling desperately around for the light switch and missing it completely in his panic — and then he stepped in something wet, slipping to fall painfully onto his back. Wincing, he braced himself against the floor and tried to rise only to find his hand wet as well, slipping from beneath him. It took him three terrified attempts to get up, pulling himself upward along the wall. By chance, he hit the light switch somewhere along the way.

The lights came on, and the first thing Reever saw was his hands.

His hands.

His clothes.

The wall.

The floor.

Blood.

There was blood.

A lot of blood.

So much blood.

Coming from–

From–

Reever brought his bloody hands to his face, eyes wide. He clamped them over his ears.

There was so much… much…

There was no way a little girl’s body could hold that much blood. She was so still, her pretty eyes wide open and blank and staring at nothing at all. The blood smears on her cheeks had little streaks across them where her tears had washed them clean. That was a good girl. Cry it all away. Just cry until all the badness washed away. She was so still, maybe she was dead. Maybe she was happy now. Free.

Her lips moved.

A song, wheezed out as though it was the last of her breaths.

“da ge ge… hao bu hao…”

“KOMUI!“

The name tore itself from Reever’s throat, hoarse and raw and terrified. It wasn’t Linali it was Komui and oh, God, what had he done? Reever tried to scramble to Komui’s side, slipped again on the blood. Landed hard on his chest, almost had the wind knocked out of him. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t been able to remember to draw in his breath again anyway. Now his body was just forgetting to breathe without him. He crawled the rest of the way to Komui’s side.

“K-Komui,” he gasped out, trying to understand what Komui was doing, what had happened, what was happening, even through his now-blurring vision, through the air he couldn’t seem to get into his lungs. “Wh-what are you doing? Why… G-God! Don’t hurt yourself anymore, please, oh, God, just–” He closed his hand over the scalpel in Komui’s loose grasp, tried to tug it away. Komui was still bleeding, everywhere, there were so many cuts–

Komui’s lips stilled as Reever touched him, and he blinked once, sluggishly.

He was lying curled on his side on the floor, hair fanned out messily to drag in the small puddles of blood he’d left around the room; shirt folded up beside him neatly atop his shoes, lying next to a small beige cloth bundle.  He’d slit one arm wrist to elbow, the other cut a little shallower; and there were a last few curving trails dragged across his bare chest where his energy had begun to give out.  Very slowly, his white, blood-flecked face turned up toward Reever’s, dark eyes glassy and full of something that did not resemble reality in the slightest.

Faintly, instinctively, he smiled.

“Hi… Reever.”  His voice was tiny, hoarse, weak.  He paused for a moment, face slowly drifting into a sleepily confused expression.  “Could you… rock the baby…? Won’t stop crying…”

“The baby?” Reever repeated in a voice that was half a sob, not understanding what Komui was saying or anything because he was staring into Komui’s eyes and the world was stopping and the blood and Komui was gone even though he had promised and–

Reever looked down. Saw the face peeking out from within the small bundle.

He made a choking sound, a sick, wet gasp for air that was him barely keeping from getting ill. He felt dizzy, felt as though someone had put their hand into his chest and wrenched out his heart.

She was so small.

But he couldn’t, couldn’t– Couldn’t… focus on that. He had to get help for Komui, had to think had to–

“Reever, this is your baby sister. Say hello.”

Reever shook, from his shoulders to his hands to his shallow breaths. He couldn’t. He really, really couldn’t. He had to get Komui help or Komui was going to die and go far, far away and they would never get to kiss in the rain or curl up to sleep together or share a meal or work or anything again. Reever had to save him, had to save the both of them.

“She likes you, Reever. Isn’t that cute, honey? She doesn’t cry when he holds her.”

She was so very little and so very still.

Reever shook his head, shook all the thoughts out, all the memories. He didn’t care if he never had them again. He couldn’t right now. He tightened his grip on Komui’s scalpel, pulled it out of his grasp. Then Reever stood, looking desperately around the room as though seeing it for the first time. The phone. Where was the goddamned phone?

He found it between piles of research notes, managed to dial the number for the medical wing. His hands left smears of blood on everything he touched.

“Hello?”

“G-g-” Reever couldn’t find his voice and bit down on his lip until the pain cleared his head even a little. “A medical team to Lab K-3, right now. Right now. It’s an emergency. He’s bleeding, a lot, and, just, now!” Reever knew he wasn’t making enough sense, knew he was being next to useless but he just, everything– He had told her enough. They would be coming now. He dropped the phone and went back to Komui’s side, feeling tears slip relentlessly down his cheeks.

He was trained for this. He was. He had to stem the bleeding somehow, but there were so many cuts where was he to even start? He realized he was still holding the scalpel.

And then he stopped thinking. About anything at all, anything except saving Komui. Saving them both.

Reever pulled his shirt off, managed to cut it into manageable strips and tried to staunch the worst of the bleeding.

“Stay with me,” he begged hoarsely. “Please, Komui. Or I’ll never, ever–” And then he stopped, because he didn’t know what to end that sentence with. Forgive you. Be okay again. Believe in anything again. Want to live again. He left it, looked down at what he was doing instead. Tried not to look at the baby.

“Reever, Marleen, say hello to your new baby sister.”

Komui’s eyes drifted closed.

- – -

It wasn’t ten minutes before a team of medics had burst into the laboratory, taken a shocked look at the blood splashed over the walls and floor, and then proceeded to get to work.  A single medic pulled Reever away from Komui gently and they tended to and bandaged up the Supervisor with a flurry of barked orders and flailing limbs, one carefully winding gauze up his arm here, one unfolding a stretcher there, one preparing a blood transfusion.  They worked with a grim intensity bespeaking just how well each knew and trusted the man lying bleeding to death on the laboratory floor.  Komui was close with the medical staff.

“All right, he’s stable to move,” someone announced, and the group hefted Komui onto the stretcher carefully, one medic carrying the bag of blood as they headed for the door.  Another stayed behind for just a moment to clap a hand on Reever’s shoulder, swallowing a little.

“You should get your clothes changed, yeah?  Then come up and see him,” the man offered with a kind, awkward smile.  “He’ll be okay.”

Reever only managed a distant half nod, mumbling something that might have been agreement. Then he waved his hand to dismiss them, waited for them to go. Waited for the door to close. Then he curled up with his head between his knees and let himself break down, let all the terror and horror and utter mortification finally get to him.

Komui was going to live, but nothing, nothing was okay anymore.

Somewhere along the line, he found himself holding the bundle of small, perfect limbs and small, perfect hands, and small, perfect lips, clutching her to his chest. He didn’t know what to do with her. He couldn’t even move, because he didn’t want to just leave her, but…

What did one do with the corpse of an infant?

He didn’t have an answer, and he strongly believed that no one with a shred of humanity should.

Eventually, though, he found himself at the cathedral. He tracked blood through the halls, had people’s gazes following him as he walked. He didn’t even notice, had forgotten he was covered in blood, wearing only his work pants, cradling a bloody little bundle that had a tiny arm protruding from the folds of the cloth. He didn’t care, about anything really. She looked like Gabby. His baby. Gabby had always liked pink ribbons. Marleen had always managed to get hers off, almost as soon as she was out of the womb. But Gabby, she loved her pink ribbons. She was so perfect. Perfect except for her strange lightness. She felt empty. Hollow. Like a doll. Babies were heavy and warm and dreamed their little baby dreams, their little tummies moving with each breath. Reever had memorized the sight, sitting up some nights with each of his sisters. The baby in his arms was all wrong, but still so perfect in the way only babies could be.

He stood there, gazing up at the large silver cross mounted to the wall without any real comprehension for a good long time. It had meant something, once. That cross. Now it was just… a decoration. He continued staring, wondering if it would come back to him. The feeling he’d used to get when he had stared up at such a massive, solid symbol of his faith.

There was nothing.

A hand fell on his shoulder and though it startled him, he was slow to respond. He turned his head as though it pained him greatly to do so.

“Reever, isn’t it?” a vaguely familiar woman’s voice asked. She was smiling at him, gently. He noticed the burn scar on her face.

“…General Cloud Nine,” he murmured, as though reciting a caption from a textbook. Then his eyes widened a little and he tightened his grip on the baby in his arms. He didn’t… didn’t want anyone to hurt her any more.

“What do you have there?” Cloud asked lightly, peering over.

“Oh, she’s precious. What a beautiful baby.”

She looked back up at him, offering him the same gentle smile from before. “She looks as though she had a bad dream before she left us, but I’m sure she’s dreaming better things now.” Cloud thought a moment before holding out her arms. “Would you like to give her to me, Reever? I’ll make sure she gets to where she needs to go. My students will take good care of her.”

Reever hesitated, frowning to himself. Cloud Nine was the kindest of the Generals. She could be trusted. He knew that.

“…you won’t hurt her?” he asked all the same. Because she looked so much like his baby. He couldn’t stand the idea of her hurting anymore.

“Never,” Cloud swore. Reluctantly, Reever transfered the bundle very carefully into Cloud’s arms. He lingered close to her a moment to stroke the baby’s cold cheek, to say goodbye. Then he backed away. He looked back up at the cross, trying to remember what he was supposed to do now.

“Reever!” Cloud called to catch his attention again. She was rocking the baby slightly. She was a good lady. She would make a great mother someday, if she wanted to be. She probably wouldn’t. “You should go get cleaned up, then go where you have to go. We all have somewhere we need to be, don’t we? You, the baby, even me. So… don’t keep them waiting!”

Oh. That was right. Reever nodded, turning away. He even remembered to thank her.

Reever didn’t really remember showering. He might have stepped into the shower with what was left of his clothes on, but that was okay. They needed washing too. He changed into… clothes, though if asked he probably wouldn’t even have been able to remember what color they were. He forgot shoes altogether, wandered to the medical wing.

“…Komui?” he asked the receptionist quietly. Begged, really.

The receptionist looked back up at him, very awkwardly.

“The… The Supervisor is in intensive care… I’m very sorry, Officer, but– only…  family members–”

He seemed to stare at the look on Reever’s face for a moment and swallowed, shaking his head slightly.

“I…  here… let me raise Exorcist Li, she…  she should be here anyway.  I’m sure she’ll take you in with her.  In the meantime, why don’t you…”  He looked slightly nervous as he gestured to some nearby chairs.  “Just…  Have a seat.”

“…I love him,” Reever whispered distantly, not really knowing why he was saying it. Only that he had to. Because he did. He shifted his gaze to the chairs and considered them for a long moment, then shook his head. He stepped away from the desk for the receptionist’s sake, but didn’t go sit down. He was too tired. Down to his very soul, he was tired. If he sat down, he wasn’t sure he would be able to get up again. He waited.

Linali had been on her way for the past half hour when her golem got the second call. She had been stopped by some of the lab boys who had heard some gossip and then Jerry had run out and had begged her for answers. She had just managed to get away, worried out of her mind. The first call had been vague, just that her brother was in surgery. The second call had been even more helpful, the receptionist mumbling something about how Reever Wenham was waiting by the front desk and that she should come now. Her legs were much better now but running was still difficult to keep up for more than short bursts, so she was doing the best she could but it wasn’t good enough. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She didn’t know how this could have happened. Never, not once in all the time they had been with the Order had Komui been this badly hurt. Not during any of the accidents the lab had suffered, not during any of Komui’s experiments gone awry. Linali was the one who got hurt, not Komui. And now, Linali swore to God that she would never get hurt again. She’d never imagined the sort of blind panic she might have been causing her brother all these years.

When she arrived at the infirmary, the first person she saw was Reever. He looked… terrible. Barely alive, listless. Her heart clenched. If he was that stricken–

“How is my brother?” she demanded worriedly, rushing over to the desk. She briefly touched Reever’s arm on the way over, then straightened in surprise when he looked at her, flinched, and immediately looked away.

The receptionist glanced between the two of them with an uncomfortable swallow, pulling a hastily-scribbled form off the top of one of his files.

“He, um…  My last word is the Supervisor is stabilized…  There was, um, a lot of bleeding, but…”  The man coughed, eyes flicking to Linali’s face for a moment and then down to his paper again.  “He’s in intensive care.  Room 523.  You can, uh…  Go ahead,” he said with a glance back at Reever.

“Thanks. Um, it’s okay if my future brother-in-law comes too, right?” Linali was already walking off with Reever almost forcibly in tow, casting the receptionist a dark look that insinuated she didn’t need her Dark Boots to make it very clear to anyone standing in her way just how little she cared for official policies right then.

“Reever-ge ge?” she asked quietly as they made their way down the hall toward the 500-600 rooms. “What’s… what’s wrong? My brother’s stable, didn’t you hear? We’re the Li family, you know. I’ve come out of two comas now. He’s going to be fine. But… are you okay? Did something happen?”

Reever didn’t answer her, busy trying to look everywhere but toward the hand that was leading him by the wrist. Toward the scars he knew were there. Her hand was pushing his bracelet into his skin. He could feel it.

He missed them.

“…it’ll be okay, Reever. I promise,” Linali sighed, not knowing what else to say. She didn’t even know what had happened, and it seemed fairly inappropriate to try asking Reever anything more. She stopped outside room 523, took in a deep breath, and let them both in.

And all at once it was very, very clear.

Linali gasped, covered her mouth with her hands. The bandages up and down his arms were… unmistakable. The way they had strapped him to the bed, in case he woke up and– Linali swallowed, tears burning in her eyes. She didn’t understand.

But right then, she didn’t need to. All she needed to know was that her brother was okay, that they would get the chance to get through this. She found a chair for Reever and led him to it, sitting him down next to Komui’s bedside. Then she went looking for a chair of her own. She found an empty room a few doors down and took hers from there, brought it back. She put her chair on the other side of Komui’s bed. She leaned across him, caught one of Reever’s hands, and placed it over one of Komui’s own; then she sat down and curled her hands around her brother’s other hand. She tried to give Reever an encouraging smile.

“I’m sure he knows he’s not alone.”

Reever looked away without saying anything. He didn’t want to have to tell her. He didn’t want to be the reason she stopped believing too.

They stayed with him all day, all night. Linali left sometimes to get food, water, to offer Jerry an update and reassurance. Each time she brought something back for Reever, and each time he unfailingly left it untouched. He never once let go of Komui’s hand. They stayed until the sun was high in the sky again outside the window and at last Linali had to give in; she returned to her room for a few hours of sleep, murmuring to Reever that he should do the same and not expecting to be heeded at all.  Doctors and nurses quietly came and went. Another day passed.

Komui woke with the morning sun in his eyes.

At first he didn’t feel much, think much, remember much of anything.  His mind felt wrapped in a layer of cotton as he stirred faintly, closed eyelids squinting a little against the light.  It reminded him of waking up in his room with Reever in the mornings, and for a moment, that vague thought in mind, he considered snuggling back up to the other man and going to sleep again.

…this wasn’t his bed.

His eyes popped open as he had the thought, surprisedly.  Where…?  He didn’t recognize…  ….the medical wing?

Sluggishly, looking faintly confused, he glanced around.

“Ge ge?” a soft voice beside his head asked gently. Linali was midway through slowly eating a sandwich Jerry had made her for breakfast, which she quickly set aside when she saw her brother rouse.

“How are you feeling?” she whispered, reaching out to touch the side of his face.

“Linali…”

Her image was fuzzy without his glasses.  He stared at her for a moment, tried to make out the details of her expression.  She sounded… worried.  For him?

Distantly he registered an unpleasant sort of throbbing in his arms.  Down his chest.

“I’m…”  He blinked, frowned a little.  He was trying to move one hand but his arm seemed to be… attached.  He glanced downward as best he could to see that it had been strapped to the side of the bed.  And there was Reever lying against his leg, he noted for a fleeting moment, absently.  Was he asleep?

A little cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as it occurred to him that he didn’t really remember yesterday.

There were bandages down his arms, straight up to the elbows and down past the wrists.  Bandages tugging against his torso underneath the hospital gown.

…there had definitely been a scalpel at some point.

“…what did I do?”

There was a quiet horror in his voice as he glanced up toward his sister for a moment, wide-eyed, and then away again.

Linali winced a little and shook her head, lightly stroking his cheek.

“It doesn’t matter, ge ge,” she murmured, trying to offer him her best encouraging little sister smile. “You just… had a bad day. It’s okay. I… I’m here now, and…” She swallowed, trying to think of what to say but she really… really wasn’t as good at this as he was. Finally, she reached down and gave his hand a little squeeze.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, ge ge. This… It’s… I– I don’t have anywhere to call home without you, so– I…” She blinked at the tears in her eyes, kept trying to smile. “I’m so glad.”

Komui swallowed a little as he watched her and his hand jerked reflexively against the restraints again, wanting to reach up and touch her, to comfort…  He squeezed her hand back as best he was able, weakly.  Winced a little at the sudden pain shooting up his arm.  Took a deep breath.

“I– …  Don’t cry, Linali…” he said softly, feeling terribly helpless as he looked up at her and…  didn’t know what to say, to do or…  Didn’t even know exactly why he was here–

feed us, love us, please, they’d whispered in his head

–”It — it’s okay.  It’ll be okay.”

Waveringly, he tried to smile back.

“I know, ge ge,” Linali sniffed. “I know. We’re always okay. Just… just don’t move too much, okay? You were hurt really badly. Let me just–” She reached over and slowly unfastened Komui’s restraints, much as he had done for her so long ago. He wouldn’t do this again. She was sure of it. He would never knowingly do anything to hurt her. Once he was free, she sat back down, gently holding his hand in both of her own. She looked down at his bandaged wrist, not really knowing what to think. Then a little, startled laugh left her lips as she turned one arm palm-side up.

“…look, ge ge. We match.”

She smiled over at him very briefly before her shoulders began to tremble. With a little sob, she leaned over to bury her face against his chest and quietly began to cry.

His own throat tight, Komui blinked fast and squeezed his eyes half-shut, reaching out through the pain slowly and stiffly to pet her hair with one hand.  Watched her, what little he could see of her where she was lying; watched the little shock of dirty-blonde hair in the corner of his vision that was Reever.

God.  What had he done.

He–… how could he have ever tried to… to…  to kill himself. Do something like that to the people who cared about him…  take away Linali’s big brother, Reever’s…

…and he didn’t even — it didn’t make sense, he didn’t know why–

such a sweet baby girl with her little pink ribbon and her screaming and crying

He shivered a little.

…it was possibly the most horrible thing he’d ever done to anyone, and he hated himself in that moment more than he could ever remember hating himself in all the rest of his life, lying in that hospital bed staring at the ceiling and listening to his sister’s quiet sobs.

He really was a useless human being.

It was the crying that woke Reever, jolted him into consciousness. A cold chill ran through his body at the sound and he tensed, pushing himself up before he was even fully awake.

“Linali…?” he asked in a hoarse, scratchy voice, rubbing his red eyes. “Did something happen–” He managed to open his eyes all the way, look at her, at Komui. His breath caught in his throat.

“K-Komui,” he wheezed out, eyes widening. “Y…you’re awake.”

Komui glanced down slowly, found Reever’s gaze on him.  For a moment he just looked back, uncertain, throat tight, wounds throbbing under their bandages.  The place in his chest — no, it was definitely a hole in his chest where his insides used to be, and it ached sharply of a sudden, as red and raw and bleeding as the rest of him.

“Hi… Reever,” he managed to say at last, and smiled shakily, a couple tears escaping the corners of his eyes as he lost his hold on them.

Linali sat up again now that Reever was awake, wiped helplessly at her tears. Smiled awkwardly at the both of them.

“I’ll… I’ll go get us some… food!” she stammered, trying to catch her breath. “And let everyone know the good news. You two… kiss and make up, okay? I’ll come back soon.”

“Linali, where are you–” Reever forced out, coughing lightly from a dry throat, but by the time he managed to speak she was already gone. There was nothing to do but turn back to Komui, stare without really knowing what to say. He had been so sure he would be more relieved when Komui finally woke up, but– The baby, the blood, the… Reever shivered a little, grip on Komui’s hand tightening.

“…are you in pain, Komui?” he managed quietly. “Do you… need anything?”

“Um…  it hurts just… a little bit,” Komui murmured back after a moment, shaking his head faintly.  “I’m okay.”

Stiffly, his thumb stroked the side of Reever’s hand, until it hurt too much to keep going.  He couldn’t seem to find any words.  He was just…  He felt so guilty.  Sad.  Grateful.

“Throat… hurts a little,” he managed after a moment, afraid the other man would take his silence the wrong way.  “I–…”

He swallowed.  Made himself look Reever in the eyes, no matter how badly he couldn’t stand it.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Reever whispered, lowering his head to kiss the back of Komui’s hand. He brought his gaze back up, smiling despite the tears escaping the corners of his eyes. “I forgive you. We’re going to be okay, so… you don’t need to be sorry. Just… focus on getting better, okay? Because I’m going to need someone to help me with all that paperwork piling up in the office.”

And that, for some reason, was what finally did it.  Komui sucked in as long a breath as he could manage as the tears started in earnest, and he laid there and cried weakly, chest shaking.  Each sob hurt, felt like the lacerations in his chest were ripping open; the hurt just made him want to cry more.  The hurt and Reever’s tears and his forgiveness and his sad little smile and Linali and the little baby girl and… and…  just…  everything.

The inside of his wrist throbbed with pain as he clutched reflexively at Reever’s hand.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Reever soothed, though his own voice was a little unsteady. He scooted closer so he could stroke the side of Komui’s face, brush away the tears. “It’s okay, Komui. I love you, and I’m here. I’ll always be here. Don’t worry about anything, Komui. I’ll have it all taken care of.”

Komui was in no state to ponder what Reever’s last words might have meant.  He pushed his face against Reever’s hand and laid there and cried a little while longer, wanting to…  curl up in a ball, hide somewhere, wrap himself around Reever’s body and cling there.  But he was too weary, hurt too much to move.  So he just kept laying there, weak little sobs coming one after the other until his tears were dry, chest aching.

Reever held on to him, continued to whisper soft reassurances, promising him that everything would be fine, promising him coffee and days off and the name of Linali’s boyfriend and the world. Anything, anything to make him stop crying, make him stop looking so sad and guilty and defeated. He didn’t stop until he heard Linali knock on the door.

“Ge ge? Reever?” she called, poking her head in. “Um. The doctors caught on that you woke up so… they want us to clear out. C’mon, Reever. Jerry’s making a meat pie the size of ge ge’s room for you, and he’s expecting you to eat all of it.”

“But, I–” Reever protested, unwilling to leave Komui’s side for a moment. Not after what had happened.

“But nothing. You haven’t eaten in days, Reever. We don’t need you hospitalized too, now come along,” Linali scolded. “I’ll carry you if I have to.” Reever cast Komui a very abused, pitiful look.

Komui swallowed a little, and weakly nuzzled Reever’s hand.

“…You should eat,” he said softly, red-rimmed eyes gazing up with concern.

“…infidel. You’re all against me,” Reever pouted with a heavy sigh, but slowly he climbed to his feet. He leaned forward to give Komui a light kiss, hand lingering on his cheek a moment longer before he reluctantly tore himself away. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, Komui. Don’t miss me too much, okay?”

Komui nodded, slowly.  He managed a shaky smile as he glanced from Reever to Linali and then back again.

“Take your time.  I’ll… be here.”

“Take care of yourself, ge ge~!” Linali called out as cheerfully as she could manage, all but shoving Reever out of the infirmary room. The doctor and nurses standing outside gave Reever a wide berth as he passed, and waited for the pair of them to turn the corner before moving inside to tend to Komui.

- – -

Over the next few days, Komui continued to make a slow recovery and was restricted to his hospital bed. Linali made frequent but short visits, not wanting to impose on her brother’s rest or tire him out too much. Sometimes she snuck him snacks Jerry made for him, and she always had the latest gossip. What his old team was up to, how she was getting stronger. She even dropped a few hints about her boyfriend, who, she told him with some delight, was being very supportive about all of this. He hadn’t complained even once that she didn’t see him as often now that she was so preoccupied with her brother.

“Because I told him right at the beginning that you never date just one Li sibling. You have to date them both,” she whispered into Komui’s ear with a happy little giggle.

What she never talked about was where Reever had gone. In reality, she didn’t know. After feeding him that first day they’d left Komui’s room, he had gone off to get some sleep and the next day was nowhere to be found. She’d looked all over, but no one had seen him. So she didn’t know, and she didn’t mention it, because she didn’t think Komui needed to be worried about anything right now. And besides, she was sure Reever was fine. Drunk, probably, but he wouldn’t do anything stupid. It would be okay.

Reever was in fact quite sober, but Linali was right on the dot with the fine part. A little bit sleep deprived, a little bit hungry, but mostly fine. He had locked himself in the one place no one had thought to look and was poring over a floor full of papers. Records, schedules, other relevant documents. He’d pulled all of them from his office after leaving Linali, because he had made a promise to Komui. That he would make everything better. He wouldn’t go back until everything was the way he had promised, because he had to keep his promise or else… else… how could he ask Komui to keep the promises he had made?

By the end of the third day, Reever’s plan was done. Making it happen would take a little while longer, but Reever could be a patient man when he had to be.

The first step was to help Jerry in the kitchens.

Jerry, who had been worried out of his mind for the past week over Komui and Reever and Linali and everyone in general (to the extent that he’d managed to mix up Kanda’s soba with a Finder’s udon and almost brought an end to the Order), was more than happy to have him there.

Reever asked to take orders and help Jerry hand out finished meals, so that Jerry would be able to cook without coming to the window every few minutes. While Jerry rather enjoyed talking to the Finders and staff, especially the cute boys, he could hardly turn Reever down. And so, Reever took his temporary post and waited.

That night, just after dinner, the person he was looking for came in. His name was Dylan Hooper, an ex-Finder with an extensive background in field research. As a member of the Science Department he was currently studying the effects of raw Innocence on Akuma, what Innocence did when unrefined and unclaimed. He was due on a vital mission in two days and the Exorcist team being sent with him was composed of Kanda and Mari. Reever drugged his food before handing it to him. It wasn’t anything lethal, but it was what Jerry had been threatening to give Cross for a while now. Dylan would be out of commission for a few days.

But someone would have to go on his mission for him. Otherwise who knew when the next chance to study raw Innocence would come along?

Reever, being the devoted acting Supervisor he was, had obviously spent a great deal of time weighing who would be the best substitute for the job and came to the conclusion that only someone as experienced and devoted to research as Sofia Foster would do.

He wrote her dispatch notice, signed it, and sent it in.

Then he went onto the last part of his plan. He helped himself to the skeleton key that would unlock any of the living quarters in the Order and let himself into Kanda’s room, then proceeded to vandalize it. If he was lucky, the foul-tempered Exorcist would simply get irritated with the old hag and kill her himself… okay, sure, it wasn’t very likely.  But failing that, he just hoped the disturbance would sour Kanda’s mood to the point that he wouldn’t be terribly inclined to protect a useless researcher from roving Akuma.

And after that, there was nothing left to do but wait some more.

That night, he went to the medical wing and stood outside Komui’s door, but didn’t go in. Everything wasn’t better yet, but they were nearly there. He listened to Komui sleep for a little while before leaving.

He drank that night, but it was only a single toast. White wine.

One bright morning, three more days later, Reever knocked on Komui’s door.

There were a couple books sitting on the side table next to Komui’s bed, but he wasn’t reading them.  He was simply staring listlessly up at the ceiling from where he lay, propped up very slightly in the reclining bed.  He was still a little pale, drawn, and tired-looking, though not nearly as much as he had been earlier in the week; there were dark smudges under his eyes, which widened slightly in surprise as he glanced down at Reever standing in the doorway.  He paused for a moment, then smiled.

“You must’ve been busy.”

“I suppose I was,” Reever answered neutrally, smiling back a little sheepishly. A sort of tension left him as he stepped into the room and he almost looked younger, more like the slightly frazzled but mostly carefree assistant of Komui’s he had been all those years ago. “I’m really ready for all this to be over, though. Get my job back and everything. Let you have yours.” He closed the door behind him and sat down at Komui’s bedside, glad that Komui looked so much better. It was still a little hard not to see the blood in the space of time it took him to blink, but… seeing Komui better was helping.

“I’ve been saving the paperwork for you,” he added a little teasingly, finding Komui’s hand with his own.

Komui’s lips twitched in another small smile, and he briefly squeezed Reever’s hand.  Thankfully, it hurt less to do so now.  “I’m sure I’ll be back to not signing any of it in no time,” he replied lightly.  Rather literally so, too — he refrained from adding that with his mutilated wrists he doubted he would be much good for writing for a while.  Reever looked too happy and relieved to bother him with too much reality.

“Funny. I seem to have the same job no matter what my title is,” Reever mused at that. He scooted closer to give Komui a proper kiss, light and quick as it was. Reever was still rather afraid of somehow breaking him.

“Um, Komui,” Reever began slowly after a moment had passed, smiling awkwardly. It felt strange, withholding information from him this way, but it really was for the best. There wasn’t much Reever could do about the war, but besides that — nothing else should bother Komui now, or ever again. He had been through enough.

“I did want to let you know… The project is over now. All of it. Once you’re out of here, you get nothing but bed rest for two weeks with both Linali and me waiting on you, and after that you can get right back to coming up with new and innovative ways to skip work.”

The project–

Komui stared at Reever a little, nothing past the first two sentences really having registered in his mind.  Was it… cold in here…?

–all the little bodies lying there so still like they’d never been alive, like sweet little baby dolls–

Slowly, his expression smoothed out into a blank, and he tilted his head slightly to one side.

“The project… over?”

“The Head Generals shut it down. It’s over. You never have to go back again,” Reever answered softly with a nod. “I… promised, didn’t I?”

Komui nodded slowly, absently.  His gaze drifted downward a little, looking not quite all there as he stared at his hands for a moment; and then he sat up slightly, a little wobbly, pulling his legs up closer to his chest underneath the bedsheets.

–so cold, the metal is hard and her little hand like ice–

“That’s… good,” he managed.

“I’m sorry there wasn’t anything I could do before,” Reever murmured, dropping his gaze rather guiltily as Komui withdrew. “But I made sure… General Cloud took the baby. She’s good with children, you know? She said that the baby is having better dreams now. I’d… like to believe her. Believe with me, Komui. Please? In the good things.”

Komui nodded again where he was sitting, trying to focus on Reever’s words, trying not to see the — the–  He–  He needed some distraction–

His hand flailed a little, slipping out of Reever’s, clutching stiffly at the sleeve of the other man’s shirt.  He took a deep breath and thought about what Reever was saying, looked up at the patterns the sunlight was making on the ceiling; tried to resist the urge to curl up in a ball and just laid back in the bed again, affectedly.  He swallowed once, breathing a little shaky.

Better dreams.

He hoped they were all having better dreams.  Far away from here.

“…I believe her,” he said quietly, and did, because he… needed to.

Reever closed his eyes and nodded, leaning even closer to gently gather Komui into his arms.

“My ma used to tell me that children get their own Heaven,” he whispered quietly into Komui’s ear, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed to better hold him. “She would say that the death of a child would be a tragedy to everyone but the child.  That we’re sad because of all the memories we’ll never have with them, but the children never care, because they’ll be doing different, better things. She told us all this stuff once, when one of Marleen’s friends passed away. I used to think about it all the time when… I first heard that my home was attacked.” Reever let out a long sigh, turning his head to look out the window, at the clouds and the sun and the light.

“I dream about them sometimes, playing in the sun, under the stars, by the sea. The dreams are harder to wake up from than the ones with the fire and the Akuma because I don’t want them to ever end, but… they’re easier to live with,” he murmured, then gave a little pause to catch his breath. “Try to imagine the babies sleeping somewhere warm and bright, dreaming only what babies can dream, okay, Komui? And then wake up to me.”

There was a small sniff from where Komui lay, pressed against Reever’s chest, clinging.  He tried to picture what Reever was saying.  It was…  it was hard.  They weren’t peaceful and warm and sleeping — they were just–  dead and cold and mangled and so tiny and– and–

But their souls were… were gone from here now.  Wherever souls went to.  Wherever children’s souls went to.

Playing with Marleen and Gabby, perhaps.

“Your… your mother was a wise woman,” he managed after a while, lying there against Reever’s chest, a hand clutching weakly in the fabric of the other man’s shirt, down at his waist.  It hurt too much to raise his arms and hug.

“Of course she was,” Reever sighed with a little smile, petting the back of Komui’s head. “She was a mother. Aren’t they all? Makes me kind of wish I was a woman. I want to have a kid someday who turns thirty, looks back, and realizes that I knew best all along. But I seem to be lacking a couple key qualifications to become a mother myself. A uterus, for example…” He laughed a quiet little laugh at that, then pressed a light kiss against Komui’s brow.

“And thank you for scarring me for life with that image,” Komui replied, a bit of wry humor entering his tired voice.

“That’s my job~” Reever half-sang, unable to help a grin. “Remind me sometime to tell you all about me in nothing but a bathrobe and slippers, pregnant, and wandering around the Order eating a tub of ice cream and pickles the next time you have a bad day, okay?”

“I think I’ll pass,” Komui murmured dryly, nuzzling Reever’s chest a little.

“But Komui~” Reever protested just as there was a knock on the door.

“Ge ge! Reever~! I hear you two in there!” Linali called brightly, a smile in her voice. “Are you two decent? I have really good news~!”

“Do you?”  Komui’s smile widened reflexively, listening to his sister’s cute, excited tone.  “Come on in.”  He sat up a little where he was curled up against Reever, turned so he could see Linali’s face.

At that, Linali bounced in, looking happier than she had in a good, long while. Clapping her hands together excitedly, she beamed at the both of them, barely able to contain herself.

“I just came by from Mission Ops, ge ge~! They had the most wonderful news! General Cross sent word that he’s done with his mission in Japan and he’s coming back straightaway! I heard it was because he was worried about you, because he asked about your condition!” And while Linali wondered exactly how Cross had known that Komui was in the infirmary, the details didn’t really seem to matter. She had been worried Cross really was going to die in Japan, with all the Akuma that were around. She was terribly relieved that he would be coming home, and so willingly for once! The Head Generals would be pleased, and it seemed like it was all thanks to her brother.

Reever, meanwhile, had quietly stopped breathing.

Komui stared at her for half a second and then — forced himself to smile again, as sincerely as he could manage.

She didn’t know.  She would never, ever know.  He could hardly even bear the thought.

“That’s… that’s good.  I’m glad he’s coming home safe,” he said, and found it not as hard as it ought to have been.

“You know, there’s probably… a lot of related paperwork in that. I should go… shift it to the top of the pile. Rush it for him,” Reever finally managed, sounding surprisingly normal. Because he knew very well that the quality of the rest of his day depended on how he played these next few moments. “Linali, will you keep your brother company while I go do that? I’ll come back in time for dinner.”

“Huh? Oh, sure!” Linali nodded, blissfully oblivious. “That’s really nice of you, Reever-ge ge.”

Reever’s smile was decidedly strained at that point so he nodded and quickly turned away.

Komui watched him go blankly, feeling about twice as depressed as he had before.  He took a deep breath.

“…So did you have a good day?” he asked quietly, forcing himself to smile again as he looked back at his sister.  He’d…  he’d be all right if they just didn’t talk about Cross.  ….zhu ren.  Cr–

Anything but Cross.

“Other than going to Mission Ops, it wasn’t really that interesting,” Linali shrugged, still smiling. She thought Reever looked a bit uncomfortable leaving, but wrote it off as something to do with having to leave Komui in favor of the office. “I saw my boyfriend a little while ago, though!” She paused a brief moment to consider dropping another hint to Komui, but there was always the risk that Komui’s genius would kick in and he would figure it out, and then her boyfriend would wind up crucified as soon as Komui checked out of the medical wing. But she would have to tell him eventually. She hated keeping secrets from her brother, even ones like this.

“He’s going on a mission soon,” she finally added. “That’s why I was in Mission Ops. He won’t be back for a whole week, so we made plans to have dinner… Is– that okay? I know Reever-ge ge said he would be back, so you shouldn’t be lonely, but if you want me to stay I can call him back on his golem and tell him I have to cancel. He’ll understand.”

Komui pouted at her terribly, but didn’t bother asking for a name.  He knew better.  “No, go have fun with your… boyfriend,” he said with a mournful sigh.  “Your poor big brother will just waste away here on his own~”  He was still pouting as he reached up to melodramatically wipe away a nonexistent tear.  After a moment, he sighed quietly again, shaking his head a little.

“If he’s not going to be here, you shouldn’t miss the chance.”

“Is that–” Linali took a moment to gasp in disbelief. She leaned over and felt Komui’s head with the back of her hand. She peered up at his IV, at the water he had been given, checked his sheets. “Do I detect… you giving me permission to go on a date, ge ge? Are… are you going to let me stay up past my bedtime next? Does… does this mean I don’t get tucked in or bedtime stories anymore?” Then she smiled a positively radiant smile and wrapped Komui in a great, big hug, though she was careful not to squeeze.

“You still get tucked in.  I want to tuck you in.”  Komui sounded a bit scandalized as he folded his arms around her waist in return, just a little; it still hurt to move them around much.

“And.  Yes.  Don’t ask again or the answer will be different,” he said, pouting in a very disgruntled fashion.

“Maybe if you stay this encouraging I’ll feel safe enough to tell you his name without fearing for his life,” Linali teased good-naturedly, still absolutely beaming with delight. She was proud of her brother for loosening his grip on her, because she knew there was no way it could be easy for him; and on top of that she was honestly, utterly glad to know he supported her. It was almost a relief. It had been a little hard sometimes, because she really did adore her boyfriend but it was her brother’s happiness she worried about first and foremost. And that would always, always be the case. It wasn’t completely fair, but it was at least a little fair. Komui had done nothing his entire life but work and give and work and give to ensure her happiness. It was the least she could do in return, and as luck would have it, she had found a boyfriend sensitive enough to understand.

“I told you, I’m not going to kill him!  I just want him to know that I will not tolerate any funny business or mistreating you,” Komui sniffed.  “The rocket launchers would just be to help illustrate my point.”

“Rocket launchers?” Linali laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. She gave Komui a little peck on the cheek. “What if you give him a heart attack, ge ge? I like him just the way he is. That being alive.”

“He’d most likely still be alive after the heart attack,” Komui insisted, still pouting.  He still looked comically unhappy as he leaned his head over a little to return the kiss with a brief press of lips against her forehead.

“He works too hard as an Exorcist to die of heart failure, ge ge,” Linali sighed with a little giggle, shaking her head. “Give the poor thing a break. Besides, you don’t have to worry about ‘funny business’ because he nearly falls over himself when I kiss him on the cheek. He’s really cute!”

“He’s an Exorcist?”  Komui pulled back slightly to stare at her for a second.  Well, that narrowed it down a lot. Now all he had to do was install his surveillance equipment in every male Exorcist’s room… perhaps he could start monitoring their golems…

“A good one, too,” Linali smiled, then paused mischievously. She took a deep breath, then added, “…his Innocence is parasitic.”

“ARE YOU GOING OUT WITH ALLEN!?!!??!?”  A wide-eyed Komui sprang up from the bed instantly, grimaced in pain, and proceeded to collapse dizzily back into it.  “Er…  that is…”  He gritted his teeth and laid back against the pillow reluctantly, breathing a little hard.  “Well, are you?”

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” Linali managed to say with some humor, once her breath stopped catching in her throat with worry. “Where’s the fun in that, ge ge? Now please don’t get too excited, okay? I don’t want you to tear anything open again. Are you all right? Does anything hurt a lot? Should I go get a doctor?”

“I’m okay,” Komui said with a slightly strained smile.  “Don’t worry.  Just… wasn’t thinking.”  He managed an approximation of his previous pout.  “But it is not nice to tease your poor ge ge like that.”

“Tease him like how?” Linali asked innocently, smiling something that was half a grimace. She rested her hand on his shoulder apologetically.

“Like being mean and telling him everything about your boyfriend except his name.”  The pout turned more heartfelt as the pain shooting through his chest gradually began to subside again.  He didn’t want to lift up his arms and start it all over, though, so he settled for leaning his head to the side against Linali’s hand, with a faint answering smile.

“That’s just incentive for you to get better soon and track him down yourself,” Linali teased, petting Komui’s hair.

The two of them talked happily about absolutely nothing at all for a few hours more, until it was time for Linali’s date. Reever still hadn’t returned to the room, and the idea of leaving her brother by himself made Linali extremely reluctant to go; she very nearly called her boyfriend twice to cancel before she was all but banished from Komui’s bedside.

“I’ll have someone page him in case he forgot,” Linali finally sighed, looking conflicted as she lingered in the doorway. “Call me if he’s not back by eight, okay? I’ll come home early.”

“Sure,” Komui promised with a smile, intending to do absolutely nothing of the sort.

Reever never came back; but only Linali had really expected him to.

With this chapter we head toward the next bit of plot…  crazily enough, although we’ve still got a ways to go yet, we’re inching closer toward our conclusion.  We look forward to having you with us for the ride!

Ch. 15.  By Starlight

The pair of them watched the stars for a while longer, until they lost track of time and Reever suddenly remembered that Toma was still waiting for them. Embarrassed, he and Komui helped each other to their feet and ran back up the path as though they were boys, blushing and apologetic. They curled up in each other’s arms again once inside the carriage, held each other all the way back to Headquarters.

And by the time they were standing outside of Komui’s room again, Reever found himself reluctant to go. He never wanted to leave Komui’s side again. Realistically, he wanted to spend just a few more hours with him, cling to the peace they had found in each other. So he lingered, not knowing what to say but good night, and completely unwilling to say it.

Komui unlocked the door to his room and stared at it for a long minute without saying anything.

“Um… come inside?” he offered shyly at last, with a fleeting glance at Reever as he slipped across the threshold.  He, too, was not yet ready for the night to be over; but… he didn’t exactly know what they were going to do next.

“Make yourself at home,” he murmured as he pulled his coat off, slinging it over a chair sitting next to the armoire and slipping out of his shoes.

“That’ll be a bit hard,” said Reever dryly, attempting a joke for lack of anything else to do. “I don’t have nearly enough work with me for that, but I’ll see what I can manage.” He shrugged off his jacket and very gladly unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt to push the sleeves up, then loosened his tie a little. Glancing around, he finally hung his suit jacket over the doorknob. Somewhere along the line he also managed to get out of his extremely uncomfortable shoes without sitting down or falling over, and those went next to Komui’s door as well. Reever wasn’t normally so neat, but it wasn’t his room to shed all over.

Komui had curled up a little on the bed — very carefully stretching out the long bottom panels of his tunic, conscious of how the fabric would wrinkle — and for lack of anything better to do, gone right for the sweets again.  He’d just popped a truffle into his mouth as Reever turned around, and smiled a little sheepishly as he held up the box in offering, gesturing toward the spot beside him with a toss of his head.

Reever started for the bed, then took a pause as he noticed how carefully Komui was sitting and, very distantly, he remembered that someone had once told him how easily brocade wrinkled. He remember folding one of Komui’s shirts so that it wouldn’t.

“Komui, do you want me to bring you something to change into?” he asked as he shook away the thought.

“…Hm?”  Komui paused to swallow and then smiled a little abashedly.  Now that Reever mentioned it, that did sound good, but…

“…I guess if you want?  But, uh, you don’t have to wait on me…”  He gave an embarrassed little laugh as he set the box to one side and shifted forward as though to rise.

“Don’t worry about it.” Reever grinned rather playfully, heading for Komui’s wardrobe. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to go through your clothes. What kind of clothes are you feeling?”

“Umm…  I don’t know, clothes,” Komui pouted a little at his back, relaxing a little in his place and picking up another truffle.  “Something comfortable, I guess.  But that’s most of my closet anyway.  Pick what you like.”

Reever spent a few minutes going through Komui’s clothes before he settled on a soft cotton shirt and a pair of pants he figured Komui favored since it felt well-worn and thin, both of them white. He brought them back to the bed and held them out.

“Are these okay?”

“Perfect.”  Komui accepted them with a grin, nudged the chocolate off to one side again, and… debated getting up and decided he was too lazy.

And, well.  Reever was… right there.

He turned away just a little bit as he shifted in his place and began unbuttoning the snow-colored, shimmering tunic, pulling it off carefully.  He shook out mussed hair for a moment before laying it gingerly to one side, plucking the shirt Reever had selected from atop the bedcovers and continuing to dress.

Rather predictably, Reever turned slightly pink almost at once, then spent the next few moments debating whether turning away would be rude or not — and before he had the chance to come to a conclusion, realized he’d already been staring long enough that turning away would definitely be rude. He rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and proceeded to look flustered and helpless.

“Um,” he mumbled, constantly reminding himself that inhale came after exhale. “Um, should… um, do you want me to hang that up for you?”

Komui stood to change his pants, and then folded the garments in question over one forearm.  “Oh, that’s okay,” he replied quite brightly and nonchalantly as he walked over to the armoire.  It belied the way his own heart was pounding rather faster than before.

Maybe this… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.  But that look on Reever’s face had certainly been priceless.

“Komui,” Reever called after him, gaze fixed on some positively fascinating floor grout. “Uh… um, well… er… that is… I was going to say–… Um… I… I think…” His voice dropped down to something a hair above a whisper.

“…you’re prettier than I remember.” Then Reever’s gaze snapped up as his cheeks went bright red. “I mean!  Um.” He squeezed his eyes shut with an expression that begged some higher power to end his misery right then. “Handsome! You’re handsome…r than I remember!”

Komui was torn between the urge to pout outrageously and generally be indignant, and the urge to laugh at Reever’s utter adorableness. Looking at the other man’s expression, the former almost seemed too mean at this juncture, and, well, there was no use denying reality — as much as it irked him, he was kind of pretty.  So Komui let the quiet laugh out, hiding it obligingly behind his hand as he hung up his clothing and went back to bounce down onto the bed, pulling Reever with him.

“Thank you.  You don’t look too bad yourself with your hair all trimmed…  Though seeing you completely shaved borders on the unnatural,” he remarked with a little grin playing around his lips, and then leaned over on impulse to press a slightly irreverent kiss to Reever’s smooth jaw.

“I’ll make note of that for the future,” Reever answered a bit shyly, almost, rubbing the place Komui’s lips had touched self-consciously. “And… I didn’t really mean pretty like, just… I… I think you’ve gotten more attractive, that’s all. Not that you’re not pretty, but just not like– I… should just stop talking.”

Komui just laughed a little more.  Reaching up to unclip the barrette from his hair, he tossed it onto the nearby desk and finger-combed his hair out briefly before flopping over to rest his head in Reever’s lap.

“I love you,” he said easily, grinning a fond, amused, very wide grin up at the other man.  “Don’t ever stop saying stupid things.”

Reever felt his heart nearly miss a beat at the sound of those words and he smiled back, petting Komui’s conveniently placed head.

“Okay, we’ll trade. You keep reminding me you love me and I’ll keep verbally digging my own shallow grave.”

“I’ll take that bargain,” Komui declared, shifting his arms a little to stretch them quite loosely around the bottom of Reever’s waist.  For a little while, he just let himself lie there and be content, enjoying Reever’s warmth and his hand in Komui’s hair and even, perhaps, getting a little sleepy.

But he supposed he had a decision to make.

He could lean up and kiss Reever right now.  Push him down against the bed, pull off his shirt.  Touch him.  He felt without a doubt that Reever would welcome it.  Maybe with a little surprise at first, but at this particular moment Komui was completely certain he would not be turned away.  So he just…  had to decide whether he could do it or not.  Once they started–

the lips on his skin — the breath — the touch of those hands–

–would they be Reever’s?

Whose face would be in his mind when the climax came…?

He shifted his head a little, nuzzling against the other man’s leg with bangs falling into his face, and took a deep breath.

Reever would have been perfectly content if all they did was sit there until they both fell asleep, because he worried all the same things as Komui did and then some. He worried he would be too clumsy, worried that he would remind Komui too much of Cross or too little or maybe he just wasn’t good enough anymore or whether Cross had hurt Komui too much for Komui to want to be touched that way or… or… if the ceiling would collapse and kill them both, really. There wasn’t much rationality to Reever’s insecurities, but then again there didn’t really need to be. That would be a little bit like requiring a bicycle to ride a train. But Reever heard Komui stir and looked down, found himself in mild wonder that he had Komui again to begin with, and then finally remembered to speak.

“…Komui?” he asked, then ran out of even stupid things to say. He brushed back some of Komui’s hair instead, studying his expression.

“Hm?”  Komui glanced up at him through his lashes, the other man’s touch eliciting a little smile without his really thinking about it.

“Are…” Reever had to stop and take a deep breath, scratching his forehead as though that would somehow make the thoughts come. “Um, are you… happy, with me? It’s… it’s a stupid question, isn’t it? You know what, never mind. I’m just… being me again.”

Komui looked up at him for just a moment.  His expression sobered as he pulled his arms a little tighter around Reever’s waist, and said nothing for a while, and thought about it.

“I am,” he murmured at last, letting his eyes fall closed, “happier than I ever imagined I was capable of.”

“Me too,” Reever sighed out with a little, relieved smile. He hesitated again, lightly stroking Komui’s cheek. Contemplating. “Komui, you… would you mind if I, ah…” Reever felt himself flush, felt warm around his neck and down his back and in his cheeks. “Would you mind if I… if I kissed you right now?” It felt very, very silly to ask, but just… doing it felt out of the question to Reever somehow.

And just like that — tension.  Komui stopped for a second and… breathed.  Tried not to do anything alarming.

He didn’t–  He still didn’t know if he could — if they…

If they…  he…

…..Reever…  was waiting for him.

Just like he had been all this time.  Just like he would be, Komui was certain, a thousand years from now.  Waiting, praying, and holding his breath.

There was no decision to make.

There was only to follow the path he’d already started.

“If that’s what you wanted,” he murmured, opening his eyes again as he shifted forward a little, pushing himself up on his hands, “what are you doing all the way up there?”

Komui smiled faintly.

Reever didn’t answer, only smiled back and rearranged himself until he was laying next to Komui. He took in a deep breath to calm himself before he brought his arms around Komui’s waist, then slowly leaned in for the kiss. He hesitated at the last second, grip on Komui tightening. Then he closed his eyes, sighed out his breath, and leaned into the space between them to deliver a soft, still somewhat uncertain but affectionate kiss. It was… the sort you gave your siblings, actually, and Reever grimaced at himself. He counted to three in his head, pulled back in the space between ‘two’ and ‘three’, and returned to give Komui a proper kiss, a searching kiss, trying not to let his heart hammer its way out of his chest.

Komui reached over to stroke long fingers slowly down the side of Reever’s face as he returned the kiss, dark eyes glittering, his glasses bumping just a little against the bridge of Reever’s nose.  In that moment he had no regrets, no second thoughts.  It was as perfect as anything in his life had ever been; and if he’d had to spend the rest of eternity right here, in a quiet evening lying on his bed lazily kissing Reever Wenham, he didn’t think he could have minded very much.

Maybe… it made him faintly lightheaded to think it, and he shifted forward with his shirt pulling tight against the front of his chest to press closer to Reever, tangle a hand in his unruly hair, surfacing for breath a second before pressing his lips to the other man’s again–  maybe–

Maybe everything would really be okay.

One of Reever’s hands curled around the hem of Komui’s shirt when the third kiss broke, his eyes searching Komui’s for permission. He wasn’t even really sure he wanted to be asking this, wasn’t sure if Komui was ready or if he was ready or… anything, really. He wasn’t sure of anything, but he knew that this was where he wanted to be, with Komui, close to Komui, rediscovering all the wonderful things in life they had once been so certain of.

A single little shiver passed through Komui’s body, and he took a deep breath.

Then he reached up to take off his glasses, set them aside, and, slowly, slid a hand atop Reever’s to coax it underneath his shirt.

And with that Reever had his breath stolen away.

Smiling a slightly watery little smile from feelings he didn’t quite know how to express, he slowly pushed Komui’s shirt up by inches, lowering his head to press kisses against Komui’s stomach and gradually moving upward until the shirt was removed from Komui completely. He ran his hands over distantly familiar places, trying to remember exactly how this all went. He remembered it all, remembered curling up with his alcohol at night to dream dreams of things he thought he could never have again. He had never let himself forget, because he was certain only he knew how to make Komui ache in all those wonderful ways, knew how to make Komui sleepy and spent and sated and happy. Cross thought he knew, was so very certain he knew everything there was to know about Komui and had something with him no one else could ever hope to have or replace. And it was entirely likely that he did.

But what Reever had was different.  Beautiful.  Uniquely, impossibly perfect.

Komui tugged Reever down by the tie for another kiss, and then began to undo it, tossing it aside and turning to unbuttoning Reever’s shirt one-handed with his other arm loosely wrapped around Reever’s waist to steady himself.  His breathing was coming just a little faster, a pleasant warmth spreading through his body as he opened the shirt up, tugging it down one of Reever’s arms as far as it would go.  There was an insistent need throbbing underneath his skin now, faint at first, growing warmer and deeper and louder; a need for — for — Reever. For every last little bit of him that he was willing to give.  For his gentle eyes and his reverent touch and his wiry hair and the heat of his body.  To be as close to him as any human being could ever be.

Komui was so happy in that moment that he couldn’t quite even properly comprehend it, and he blinked back a faint wetness in his eyes again as he pulled Reever down on top of him, bare chest against bare chest, sliding his hands underneath the half-removed shirt and across warm skin as their eyes met, separated by inches.

“Make me yours again,” he whispered.

“K..Komui, I–” Reever murmured, voice a little choked. “I love you. Forever. I’ll never let you go again.” And in that moment, he was so certain that it was a promise he could keep.

He kissed Komui again, drawing it out so that the feeling would linger even after he moved on to somewhere else, so that it would linger even in the morning, even through the day, or even just moments from now. However long it would be until their lips could meet again. Thoughtlessly, he breathed out quiet promises between each kiss, of love and devotion, that he would do anything, anything for Komui. It was almost a stream of consciousness, of thoughts that had passed through Reever’s mind a thousand times since Komui had left and a thousand more since he’d returned. That Reever lived for Komui, and because he lived for Komui he would do anything for him, would love him until the day he died and, God willing, even after that. He didn’t say that he would die for Komui, but that did not mean he didn’t think it.

Reever pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and discarded it, kissing the corners of Komui’s eyes with reverence, trailing kisses down to his jaw, down his throat, taking his time. He wanted to show Komui all the pleasure in the world, even if it meant losing a day of work. He would have gladly given up much more to have a night like this with Komui, and he wasn’t going to waste a second of it.

Komui simply sighed a little, a small smile playing around his lips as one hand reached up languidly to trail over Reever’s arm, down his bare chest, across his side.  When Reever gave him the chance, he intended to do a little more than that, but for now.

For now.

He closed his eyes and let feeling wash him away.

- – -

It was just after dawn that Reever instinctively woke because his internal clock told him it was time to get ready for work. He had not been sleeping for more than a few hours at that point and so he blearily blinked at the sun pouring in through the windows, looked down at Komui asleep in his arms, smiled, and drifted right off again. The next time he roused wasn’t until late afternoon. Even then he didn’t make any move to get up and spent the next hour or so holding Komui and letting the time pass. It was really a beautiful way to spend a day.

At some point Komui too might have woken up; but like Reever, he hadn’t found any urgent reason to get out of bed.  Instead he simply lazed about, drifting between awake and asleep and enjoying the pleasant feeling of just… feeling. Thinking about nothing in particular at all as he lay there, warm and sleepy, with the sunlight shining against his eyelids and Reever’s arms wrapped around him.  When at last he stirred, taking in a slow breath and opening his eyes to find the other man lying there simply looking at him, his lips curled themselves into a little smile all of their own volition; and for a moment, he just looked back.  He might perhaps have gone the tiniest bit pink, as well, as he wondered how long Reever had been lying there watching him sleep.

“…Good morning,” he murmured automatically, dark eyes glittering.  He glanced up at the window across the room for a moment.  “Er…  afternoon?”

“Something like that,” Reever answered with a smile, pressing a light kiss to Komui’s brow. He noted with some delight that the simple gesture still made him the slightest bit flustered. He rather liked that feeling, because he recognized that as long as he had it, he wouldn’t forget to appreciate having Komui. “Sleep well?”

“Incredibly.”  Komui returned the kiss on the tip of Reever’s nose before reaching up to stifle a yawn, stretching luxuriously in the other man’s arms.  He raised his head for a moment to toss his hair back with one hand, and the tangled dark fall spilled away from them across the sheets, wispy strands drifting into Komui’s eyes to mingle with his long bangs.  He looked at Reever for a moment before shifting forward with an impish grin to give him another brief peck on the lips.

“I feel so wonderful that I’m sure I could have gotten all kinds of work done today.  What a shame I never made it into the office,” he remarked brightly.

“What’s that now? It’s not too late to go in, you know. We don’t even have to get dressed. Once they hear the Supervisor’s getting all sorts of work done, the nudity will seem like a very dull footnote,” Reever mused back with a grin.

“Aww, but it’s so late already.”  Komui pouted a little as he sat up at last, rolling his shoulders a little.  He yawned again and reached up to rub at his eyes with the back of one hand.  “I skipped yesterday too, so I’ll just have to put in an all-nighter tomorrow…  today I just want to relax.  And I still have to go see Linali…”

He paused, blinking at the bedsheets for a second.

“….Shit. We didn’t take pictures. She might not come out!  What if she won’t come out!?”  His head whipped back around toward Reever with a mortified expression.  “What if she won’t take us just telling her about it!?  What if it’s not romantic enough!?!?  What if there weren’t enough rose petals!?!!?”  He pulled at his hair agitatedly before he started to rise, throwing back the covers and vaulting onto the floor–

–only to slip on Reever’s discarded tie.  He landed on the tiles with an uncomfortable-sounding thud.

“…Ow.”

“Are you okay?” Reever scrambled over to the side of the bed to make sure Komui hadn’t cracked his head open or anything else alarming before holding out a hand to help him up. “Don’t worry so much, Komui. Worse comes to worse I’ll have to get you to sign for an advance on my next payday so we can do this again for her, with pictures.”

“I guess we could just unscrew the door hinges,” Komui muttered, taking the other man’s hand and rubbing at his head a little as he rose.  “Don’t worry, nothing wounded but my pride…  We definitely need to go see her later, though.  And…”  He paused as his stomach gave a speculative rumble.  “Possibly get something to eat.”

“Sorry, Komui. The halls are a bit narrow on that floor so all the doors open inward. That means the hinges are inside too,” Reever offered helpfully with a little shrug.  (He had looked into it personally earlier, just in case.)  “Food sounds like a novel idea, though.” He was feeling rather ravenous himself, but there was just one little thing first…

“We should shower before we go anywhere, though,” he mused. Yawning, he stood from the bed still rather unclothed, then turned to grin at Komui. “Supervisor, I think it would save a great deal of time we could spend being productive if we simply showered together, don’t you?”

Komui raised a speculative eyebrow.

“Hmmm…  Well.  Clearly in the interests of efficiency we shouldn’t waste all those precious minutes taking turns,” he finally agreed with a smirk, rising to twine his arm into Reever’s and escort him to the bathroom.

One rather unproductive shower later (well, it really depended on who you asked) the two of them re-emerged to dress for… dinner, apparently. Reever simply got back into his suit pants and dress shirt and then played with his tie until Komui was done changing.

“What first then, Komui? Should we visit your sister first, or go get a bite to eat?”

“Um… do you mind if we go see Linali first?” Komui requested, chewing on a thumbnail a little as he walked over to the armoire to step into a pair of slippers.  He’d changed into beige slacks and a weathered, comfortable old blue cheongsam — one that had come from China all the way to England on his first trip to the Order, then gone and come back again — and tied his wet hair back impatiently, which would annoy him later when it dried wrong but for now was quite pleasant in getting it away from his neck and shoulders.  “I mean, I’m sure she’s fine, but if she’s locked everybody out, that means the medical staff can’t get in to see her either.”  He glanced toward the armoire doors, debated whether the Supervisor’s jacket was necessary, and decided with this getup it would just be a little odd.  He wasn’t planning on doing any actual work today anyway.

“Not at all. I have to give her a proper thank you, and that’s a good point. She has her golem though, doesn’t she?” Reever reassured, taking Komui’s hand in his. He really didn’t care if people knew about them or not anymore. The three-year absence had put things into very solid perspective for him. Nothing mattered, as long as Komui was okay, was happy, was with him. “She’d be able to call for help if she ran into any trouble. Well, then, shall we?”

But just as Reever reached for the door to open it, it knocked at him.

“Ge ge~?” the voice on the other side called brightly. “Reever? Are you two still in there?”

“LINALIIIIIII~”

The door was open in approximately 0.5 seconds and Komui was hugging his little sister fit to squish her, spinning her around in a circle away from the doorway and back into the room proper.

“You came out!  All by yourself!!  Are you okay?  Did something go wrong in there?  Were you starving!?  Did you miss your big brother too much~~!?!?” he cried, glomming onto her hysterically with an energy not often displayed since he’d returned to Headquarters.

“No, no, ge ge,” Linali laughed, hugging him back. She was very used to his enthusiastic hugs and today she was in a good enough mood that even his over-the-top exuberance only made her smile more. “Everything was fine. I came out because you met all my demands!”

“Oh, of course I–”  Komui stopped mid-sentence and let go to blink at her.

“Wait, how do you know that?”

Linali’s smile turned a little impish and she tucked her hands behind her back, looking rather pleased with herself.

“Well~ I thought you two might get carried away and forget to take pictures, so I just sent my golem after you~!”

“You–”

Komui sprang back to stare at her in utter horror.

“You…  you…  you–  nghh–  you what!?“  He collapsed to the floor looking rather traumatized.  “Pleeeeeeease tell me it didn’t come into my roooooooom –  Lie to me if you have to,” he moaned, twitching a little at the thought of sweet innocent Linali who was also his sister watching them — watching him doing such — such–

Reever, meanwhile, had turned a lovely shade of ash white, feeling his stomach contents revolt at the idea of Linali, sitting in her room, watching their date and–

“Oh, don’t worry,” Linali smiled prettily, attempting to look reassuring. The effect was probably rather destroyed by how pleased their horror seemed to make her. “I wouldn’t intrude on your privacy that much. I had my golem come back when you guys went into ge ge’s room. But it’s not as though I’m a child~ I know what you guys were doing, but… it makes me a little sad that I’m pretty sure you didn’t bring rose petals in with you.”

“R-r-r-rose petals?!” Reever sputtered, then buried his face into his hands. “Linali! I forbid you to think about the sunflowers or the chocolate I brought your brother in any unwholesome ways!”

“The sunflowers and chocolate…?” Linali repeated, then turned a light shade of pink as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my! That hadn’t even occurred to me, but now that you mention it…”

Death sounded good to Reever right then. Very good. He’d just had a perfect day with Komui and there really wouldn’t be any harm in throwing himself out the nearest window. He groaned and sat back down on the bed.

“Reeveeeeeeeer, don’t corrupt my sisteeeeeeer,” Komui groaned, plopping over the rest of the way face-first onto the floor and muttering something about romance novels and dancing and evil influences.

“Me?” Reever demanded. “She’s the one following us with her golem! She did that all by herself.”

“Oh, cheer up, you guys!” Linali sighed, still smiling fondly. “I’m a big girl now. Nineteen! And I’m so happy for you two! Now my brothers are all happy again and I can go work on my own love life!”

“Your own– What!?”

Komui sprang instantly to his feet, stared at her for about a half second, and then pitched backward onto the floor again in a dead faint.

“Supervisor!”

“Ge ge!”

Both Linali and Reever gasped out, eyes widening. Linali then immediately headed to the bathroom to get a damp cloth to rouse Komui with. This all was bordering on rather routine for them.

“Don’t even, Linali,” Reever called after her. “Hold on, I’ve been waiting to do this a long time.” He squatted down next to the fainted Supervisor and whispered into his ear.

“Komui, Linali’s going to get married.”

“NO, SHE’S NOT!” Komui shouted instantly, sitting up ramrod straight with a pained groan.  He blinked for a second as he came fully awake again and glanced cautiously over at Reever.

“….she’s not really, right?”

“Not yet,” Reever teased, dusting Komui off with a good-natured smile. “Let it go, Komui. She has to grow up some time and hey, life is short. Would you deny Linali here the happiness she had a hand in giving us?”

Linali blushed a little at that and didn’t say anything, simply standing there looking sweet and lovable and cute.

Komui looked over at her and pouted terribly.  “You know your big brother still thinks of you as a cute four-year-old running around trying to catch your kitty, don’t you?”

He crossed his arms over his chest as he sat there, giving a sniff and looking extremely disgruntled.

“Just don’t date anybody unworthy of you,” he allowed at last, pout still going at full power as he turned his head away with a little flounce of the dark bangs.  “And… and bring them to meet me.  And if somebody makes you cry you have to tell me so I can show up at their door with a machine gun and some assassin robots and put the fear of God into them.”

“I’m sure if I date anyone in the Order they’ll already have the fear of God, and you, in them. You have quite a reputation, ge ge,” Linali sighed with a smile, shaking her head. “I might not be able to find anyone worthy of me because those’ll be the guys who value their lives too much to date me.”

Reever was making a memo to lock away all the Order’s machine guns and machine gun components. And the cutlery. And anything else that could be potentially lethal in the Supervisor’s hands. Then he crossed out his mental memo and wrote a new one:

Memo:
Handcuff Supervisor to self.

“Well, if they’re nice they have nothing to be afraid of,” Komui insisted, still pouting a little bit as he rose and brushed himself off.

“Anyway, we were actually headed to see you and then get a bite to eat just now…  How are you feeling?  Think you could handle a walk to the cafeteria?” he wondered with a smile.

“I don’t know, ge ge,” Linali sighed, making her best sad face as she looked down at her legs. “…I might need a piggy back ride once we’re down the stairs.”

Komui grinned and walked over to ruffle her hair, stooping a little to give her a peck on the cheek.  “I’m pretty sure I can handle that.”

- – -

As unbelievable as it was for all parties involved, the next few weeks that passed them were peaceful ones, primarily uneventful and even positively blissful at times. Reever practically moved into Komui’s room with as often as he stayed over, and clothes began to pop up in Komui’s armoire that didn’t belong to him; Komui could still be skittish and uncertain occasionally and his nightmares sometimes interrupted their peace, but otherwise, matters between them were almost as if Komui had never left. Work somehow found itself getting done despite being taken strange places such as Jerry’s kitchen, the watchtowers, and even the courtyard at times. Once, Komui got it into his head to spend their day signing papers while riding the elevator, pressing buttons for people when needed and just riding up and down when not. And that was exactly what they did.

Linali took advantage of her continuing medical leave to recuperate and rekindle friendships, though rumor had it that she had not been spending very much time with her normal group of Exorcist friends at all. Her suite neighbors reported hearing a distinctly male voice come fetching her some days and this mystery man seemed to occupy a great deal of her time. Jerry was in on it as he made romantic dinners for the two, but he was sworn to secrecy under pain of death, and would never have dreamed of betraying Linali anyway.  Not that this stopped Komui at all — since he couldn’t get anyone to tell him who the dastardly culprit was, he had resolved to simply find out for himself, and started spending several hours out of every day in his labs working on the construction of discreet, sophisticated surveillance equipment.  Naturally, the amount of his time spent in the office actually doing his job suffered accordingly.

Since Reever really couldn’t fault Komui for being worried about who his sister was dating, he picked up the extra slack in the office for his boss without much complaint. He didn’t really know how wise it was to be encouraging Komui’s eccentric approach to the problem, but he couldn’t imagine it would hurt too much. Of course, he had only considered that Komui wouldn’t be hurt too much by it. In that respect, he was mostly correct.

Himself, though. That was another matter entirely.

It started the morning a small black wax-sealed envelope was left on the Supervisor’s desk and Reever opened it in Komui’s stead, as Komui was off toiling away in his labs as usual. It was a decree directly from the Head Generals, and only documents of the highest confidentiality were delivered in such packaging. Reever was already wary by the time he broke the wax seal and pulled out the memo.

Temporary transfer of service notice for Chief Supervisor Komui Li:

A new study on methods of implementing Innocence in non-Compatibles has commenced, based on the thesis of researcher Sofia Foster. Due to his demonstrated problem-solving capabilities in the recent antivenom breakthrough and his expertise in the field of researching Innocence, Supervisor Li has been selected as project leader effective immediately. Head Science Officer Reever Wenham is to take his place as temporary Chief Supervisor and may select his own replacement from among Science Department subordinates.

Reever had to pause a moment, think. His heart was already pounding. The last experiment that had involved implementing Innocence in non-Compatibles had ended in– in– What had Sofia been working on? She had mentioned it to him once, at lunch. Something about how she had noticed that… all children possessed a certain low compatibility rate with all Innocence until the age of two, where it would dissipate altogether. She wanted to statistically prove that, then find a way to… understand what it was in children that made them different from non-Compatible adults. Utilize it. Make Exorcists.

Reever dropped the note, hands shaking.

Hadn’t they learned already? What happened to those who… who… Innocence didn’t take kindly to being forced into the body of someone who had not been chosen. It punished the wrong ones. It shouldn’t be the subjects the Innocence consumed, it wasn’t their fault, it was the scientists who– They had no morals, no conscience, no heart to hear the screams of the victims. Reever still heard them, could still see them, so trusting and hopeful and eager and then they didn’t even know their own names anymore and–

Gabby.

Oh, god, they were going to experiment on children this time and– and–!

Linali.

They were going to make Komui responsible, stain his hands–

“You know your big brother still thinks of you as a cute four-year-old running around trying to catch your kitty, don’t you?”

And Komui didn’t even know. Didn’t know about the first time, about how it was all his fault and Komui wouldn’t understand because, because–

Togaochi.

No, no, no, no, no not again. How could they do this again after the last time, after Suman, after all those kids and now they were going after infants and–

They were going to make him Supervisor and make Komui a murderer and there was nothing to do to stop it but Komui couldn’t take it. Not so soon, not after– He was barely okay again. His smile was still so faint sometimes, still so, so…

He was going to lose Komui.

They were going to take him away and Reever couldn’t save him this time because… because… there was just too much– He shouldn’t have forced Komui to take his job back. Shouldn’t have encouraged him to work. No, no, everything was always his fault. He shouldn’t have. He should have done more. Done less. Kept Komui safe.

He should have…

Should have…

For a moment, standing there in Komui’s office, Reever saw into the far future and knew all that was going to come. Everything. All the misery and death and blood and tears and all of his helplessness and uselessness and everything he couldn’t do, everyone he wouldn’t be able to save. Everything.

And then he found the whiskey he had stashed behind a row of books, clawed down volumes of useless, stupid research to the floor until he had the bottles in his hands. Sat down against the bookshelves. Cracked open the bottles by the necks. Drank it all back, tasting the salt of his tears in the alcohol. He drank and drank and drank until he didn’t know anything anymore.

An eternity later, the door swung open quietly.

“Reever, are you in here?” came Komui’s voice echoing from outside.  “You could mention where you were going to be, y’know, I kinda got used to you living in my bedroom of an evening so I–”

He stopped talking abruptly as he entered the room and his gaze alighted on the other man.

“…Uh…  Reever?” he murmured the slightest bit timidly, pulling the door shut behind him.  He frowned worriedly.

Reever didn’t hear him right away, only lifting his head with a wince when he heard Komui call his name the second time. His face was still streaked with tears and his eyes were completely bloodshot from failed attempts at wiping his face clean. The front of his lab coat and vest were soaked, as at some point Reever had spilled whiskey on himself when he missed his mouth because he had tried to bring the bottle to his lips mid-sob.

“K-Komui…?” he choked out, dropping the bottle. It rolled away from him. “Oh, fuck, Komui. I’m sorry. Your office– I… I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please, I… I can’t lose you again, I just… can’t–”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Komui said quietly, swallowing.  His heart was pounding hard as he crossed the room in a few brisk steps to crouch down by Reever’s side and pull the other man into his arms, tears and whiskey spills and all.

“It’s okay, really.  I’m — I’m okay,” he whispered.

“No, it’s not okay,” Reever insisted, another sob tearing itself from his throat. He hunched over on himself, choking on his tears as he clutched at Komui, as though holding on alone could be enough. But it wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t. He knew it never would be. “You don’t know. You don’t understand. You don’t know because I never told you that it’s all my fault and you… you don’t know. You’ll hate me and you should and I’m going to lose you anyway but I don’t want to but I can’t stop it. Why can’t I protect you, Komui? Why can’t I…”

“Shh.”

Komui took a deep breath and tugged at Reever’s arms until the other man was a little closer, ignored the alcohol smell, tried to coax Reever to lay his head on Komui’s shoulder.  He’d never done anything like this before, never really given comfort save to a crying Linali — he knew how to handle her but this was different, this was Reever and he was…  he wasn’t Linali.  He didn’t trust and follow Komui’s every word; didn’t desperately need to believe it when Komui said everything would be all right again; didn’t… depend on him, usually, at least not like that — Komui’s heart was pounding out of his chest as he sort of worked on autopilot, trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong, what had gotten Reever so upset…  He breathed again and hugged Reever against him, stroking his back, his hair.  He needed to be calm.  They both needed to be calm.

“Just calm down, okay?” he murmured in as peaceful and soothing a voice as he could manage.  “Calm down.  It’s okay.  We’ll fix it.  You’re right, I don’t know what’s going on, but that’s why you need to calm down so you can tell me about it.  It’ll all be all right.”

He pressed his cheek against Reever’s hair, still stroking the other man’s back slowly.

“You’re not going to lose me.  Never again,” he murmured.

“I love you, Komui,” Reever choked out as he tried to force his tears to stop, for Komui’s sake if nothing else. “You know that, don’t you? You know… that I’d do this for you if I could. That… that I’d… I’d take it all from you. B-but they… won’t let me and… and I’m out of influence. I shouldn’t have wasted it. I should have… I should have done so many things differently, Komui. Just… just… a few more minutes.” He buried his face against Komui’s chest, shuddering deeply.

“…just a few more minutes before I– I– Before I have to tell you, be…because then you’ll know. And everything will change. Knowledge changes things. It changes everything.” Reever sounded almost hysterical, a painful little laugh that was half a sob leaving his lips at the end. He covered his face with his hands.

“That’s fine,” Komui reassured him quickly, swallowing.  He stroked Reever’s hair.  “Take all the time you want.  It’s okay…  Just…  Just try to calm down some.”  He smiled slightly awkwardly, leaned down to plant a light kiss atop the other man’s head.  “This is a little… scary.”

He sat there holding Reever for a little while longer.

When Reever couldn’t stand it anymore, finally couldn’t stand the screaming in his ears or the sight of blood crawling across Linali’s bedroom floor, couldn’t stand being in Komui’s arms while completely unable to take any comfort out of it because he was so sure this would be the last time and just really needed another drink, he swallowed thickly and raised an unsteady hand to point at the dropped notice.

“T-there. It’s… all in there. Y-you can l-let me… let me go now. I need… I need another drink. I just… I put another bottle here… I gotta find it…” he stammered, groping around the lower bookshelves for his other stash. All the research, all the useless books that told them nothing and did nothing but send more people to their deaths, he cast it all away. It was all in his way. It was all getting between him and everything. It was everything. He didn’t want to touch them anymore. But… his drink. He had to find it.

“Come with me.”

Komui’s voice was quiet.  He caught Reever’s sleeve in his hand before the other man could get away from him entirely, trying to remember to breathe as he watched the way Reever stumbled.

“…I love you too.  Please, stay with me,” he requested, softly.  It was a cheap shot, especially while Reever was drunk, if he didn’t miss his guess.  But the thought of watching the other man wander off on his own in this state was terrifying.

Reever froze, squeezed his eyes shut. His hands closed into fists and he spent a moment on his hands and knees just shaking. He needed another drink so badly. The screaming. He could barely hear Komui’s voice over the screaming but he could still hear it and– and– He nodded, slowly, the motion forced. He dragged himself to his feet, swayed.

“A…anything for you, Komui. Please… please don’t hate me.”

Komui took a bare glance at the letter Reever had indicated…  no, there wasn’t time.  He took another very deep breath and walked forward to wrap his arms around the other man again.  Pulled him close for a brief, slightly messy kiss because… because he didn’t know what to do, he could never…

“I could never, ever hate you,” he said quietly, catching Reever’s chin firmly to look him straight in the eye as he said it, putting all the certainty he could muster into the words.  “Do you hear me?  I love you.  I could never possibly hate you.  There is nothing in the entire world that could make me hate you because I love you that much.”  His voice was starting to shake a little — that wouldn’t do.  He took another deep breath and tried to start over.

“I don’t hate you, how could I possibly ever…  I’m not…  I’m never going to leave you. You understand?  That’s what we decided, isn’t it?”

He hugged Reever a little tighter.

“But you don’t know,” Reever protested weakly, shoulders still trembling with his tears. “It was all me, Komui. Linali almost… almost died back then, and it was because I– I didn’t protect her well enough, didn’t pay enough attention, I– I made too many mistakes. And… now it’s going to happen again, and I don’t know if… I don’t know if I can find you in time– I can’t protect you at all, but I can’t lose you. I can’t.” He covered his face with one hand and started to sob once more. He slid his hand up into his hair, tearing at the roots.

“…I won’t make it this time.”

…Linali?

…almost died.

That had happened a few times since she’d been here.  Komui had thought his heart would stop for every single one.  But the truth was he hadn’t really been around for the very worst one.  Cleaned up the aftermath, sure, but he hadn’t yet been a member of the Order back when Linali had her very worst time.  When she did it to herself.

Coaxing Reever down onto the floor again, Komui kept one arm wrapped around him, and with the other groped backwards until he found the Head Generals’ notice.

Once he’d read it…  everything became a little clearer.  He was fairly sure he knew what had gotten Reever so upset.  He knew what he was going to be doing come tomorrow.

His heart was pounding fit to burst out of his chest.

He hugged Reever closer for a little while, tried to calm down enough to talk, breathed a little.  It would…  it would be okay.  It could still be okay.  He would make it okay.

“Reever,” he said into the other man’s ear, trying to get his attention.  “Reever.  It’s okay.  It wasn’t your fault.”

He stroked Reever’s hair a little again, put his hand on top of Reever’s own, squeezed it slightly.

“What… What happened to Linali…  It wasn’t your fault.”  He spoke gently, soothingly.  “You hear me?  Linali getting hurt wasn’t your fault.  You were a good big brother.  You did everything you could for her.  It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated.  His voice darkened a little on the next words, eyes narrowing.

“It was the Order’s fault.  Not yours.”

“I was supposed to be watching her,” Reever whispered, tears slowly leaving him as he grew too exhausted to shed them. He was still utterly convinced of his own guilt, but to hear Komui forgive him… that was enough to make him go near boneless with relief. “They dismissed me from the labs because the experiments were getting to me. I was supposed to be watching her. She wasn’t supposed to be there.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. None of that mattered now. Linali was fine. She had matured into a fine, well-adjusted young woman. She was an Exorcist. She was safe, and if she was to die it would be on the battlefield.

Not like them.

The Order carved away their lives in inches, wore at their sanity in degrees. The Order would take and take and take until they had nothing left to give.

Reever was so, deathly afraid this would take all that was left of Komui, everything he loved so dearly.

“…it’s cruel, Komui,” Reever mumbled against Komui’s chest, one hand closing around the collar of his coat. “Haven’t you been hurt enough yet…? Why can’t… why can’t I hurt for you? It hurts anyway, so… if I could just take your place…”

Komui took another very deep breath, hugged Reever against him and… just tried not to cry.

“I don’t– want you to hurt for me,” he said, swallowing, because he didn’t know what else to say.  How to make it better.  How to… how to fix things.  Maybe there wasn’t any fixing them at all.

He really was a useless person, when it came right down to it.

“I don’t want you to hurt at all…” he murmured, blinking too fast and pressing Reever against him, his face against the man’s hair, the smell of spilled whiskey rubbing off on his clothes.  “Hurt or cry or be sad or — I just — I just want you to be happy,” he said for what felt like the thousandth time.

“I’m sorry I can’t — fix it–”  His arms tightened around Reever’s body.  “But I…  I’m right here.  I’m not going anywhere.  I–”  He thought of Reever holding him, and choked a little.  Said it not really knowing if he was lying, but desperately wanting it to be true.

“I’ll always be here.”

“You don’t really know that,” Reever answered quietly, still certain that the Order was about to take Komui far, far away despite his promises. There was nothing they could do. There was nothing either of them could do, and Reever had lost his blind optimism a long time ago.

“I can be happy as long as you’re happy,” he added softly. “Even if I’m hurting, as long as you’re okay. You’re… you’re not okay nearly enough, Komui. It’s not… It’s not fair. I just want you to be okay. Why won’t anyone let us have that? I– I hate… being this way. I hate being their pawn. There’s really… nothing we can do, is there? They own us. All of us. We’re going to die for them, and until then they own all of us.”

Komui took another deep breath, and tried to think of something to say that wasn’t too terribly bitter.

“I guess you could say that,” he murmured.  (He had said it himself many times, if only inside his own mind where he couldn’t be censured for it.)  “But remember that this… this all has a purpose.  We’re trying to save the world here.  It’s easy to lose sight of the end, but it could sneak up on us anytime now…  there’s a reason we’re all here.  To protect the human race.  No matter what we have to do.”

That was what he told himself, so he could get to sleep at night — when he accepted dead-eyed new recruits fresh from losing everyone they’d ever loved; when the casualty notices came back in piles.  As ever, it was a cold comfort.

Reever sank back to bury his face in his hands, curling up until his head nearly touched the floor. Let out a single, quiet sob. All those children, their screams, their trust, their hopes. Their blood. Sometimes the floors still looked pink and Reever could almost see the suds, the frothy pink bubbles. The voices of the researchers.

“Another Togaochi.”

So empty. Matter of fact. As though it was just another failed prototype, a broken machine, not a child they had just tortured to death. And now it was happening again, and Komui would have to take the place of the man Reever had grown up to feel nothing but contempt for, smiled bitterly at when his name finally appeared on a list of the dead. The one Reever had hoped had not died too quickly. Reever had hoped that researcher had seen it coming, had felt nothing but horror and pain until the very end.

This time it was going to be Komui.

“…I think I would rather the world end, Komui,” Reever murmured after a long silence, slowly sitting up again. His expression was stricken, but somehow almost calm. He was watching the world end in the back of his mind, and it was glorious. “Than to see it saved by these means. We’re… we’re hardly better than the Earl, this way. I’d rather sleep with you in my arms forever than… this. I don’t think we’re saving anyone. We just send them out to die, when we’re not too busy killing them ourselves.”

Because he was drunk, Komui allowed him the blasphemy.

“We are saving people,” he insisted quietly, stretching a hand forward again to clasp Reever’s arm, rub up and down it slowly.  “Our Exorcists, our Finders…  they’re out there every day.  Not just searching for Innocence.  Doing everything they can to keep people from getting hurt.”  Well, some of them, anyway.

Komui closed his eyes briefly, and looked at Reever with a determined expression.  In this moment he was not himself, but the Supervisor, through and through.

“And if I’m in charge of this project, then I’m in charge of how it’s conducted.  How we research, what experiments we do.  Don’t worry.  There will be no Togaochi in this castle on my watch,” he promised darkly, eyes hardening as his lips drew together into a line.

Reever was silent for long while, listening to Komui’s words cycle through his head.

“…okay,” he finally managed, offering Komui an almost-smile. “I believe you, Supervisor.” And he did, because he had to. If he couldn’t trust Komui’s word, how was he supposed to even go on?

“Maybe if… if you guys get it right this time, they’ll never do this again,” he murmured, looking down at his hands. “That… that would be nice. I… yeah, that would be nice.” His voice was a little distant, words slightly disjointed. He looked toward the door.

“I… do you mind if I go now, Komui? I should… find my uniform. And, ah… get it refitted.” Which was a lie, because his Supervisor coat was sitting under his bed where it had been for the last three years and Reever didn’t give a damn whether or not it fit right, but he needed another drink and was at least sober enough to know better than to tell Komui that. Komui had enough to worry about.

“No.”  The expression Komui gave him was a bit between a pout and an outright scowl as he rose to his feet and pulled Reever up after him, taking his hand in a vice-grip.  “You think I’m letting you out of my sight?  No, we are going to go back to my room now and have a shower, and you’re going to wear some of my pajamas, and then we’re going to go to sleep.  Together.”  He tugged the other man toward the office door insistently.

“Please, Komui.” Reever’s voice was barely above a whimper as he gave Komui an utterly terrified look at the prospect of having to spend the rest of the night increasingly sober. “I’ll be okay, I just… please, Komui, don’t do this to me. Please. I–” Reever wrapped his free arm tightly over his chest, clutching at his other arm, trying not to shake. “Please, Komui, I– I can– I still hear them, I just… I can’t… can’t spend the rest of the night this way, Komui. Just–” One more drink. But Reever knew that wasn’t true. One more was never enough. Not one more, or the one that came after that, or the one after that, or the one after that. There was never quite enough.

“No.“  Komui took a deep breath, and then another one, and then tried to convince himself not to hyperventilate.  He pulled Reever over further toward the door.  “You–  We–  …. actually, come on,” he said in a murmur, sighing deeply.  He wrapped himself around Reever’s arm as he escorted the other man outside, leaning against him just a little.  Trying not to upset Reever’s balance.  Trying to feel the tiniest bit normal.

“…Reever,” he asked the first thing that flitted into his head, closing the door behind him, “tell me about the stars in Australia.”

“Th-the what?” Reever seemed caught off guard by the question and it took a minute to process. Then he seemed to visibly relax, swallowed, sighed out a quiet breath. A very sad little smile touched his lips.

“…the stars. I made up a lot of my own, you know,” he whispered. “I’d have to show you the lot of ‘em…” He hugged himself, gaze cast out a window. Slowly, very, very slowly, the screams in his ears were drowned out by the sound of crashing waves and the laughter of little girls.

“And some of ‘em are girly things, like unicorns and castles and fairies, so don’t you laugh, you hear me? They… were always so lovely, back home. The stars. The world. Everything.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” Komui murmured, still clutching Reever’s arm and continuing quietly down the hall, toward the stairs up to — not his room — but one of the lower observation towers.  “Linali has my number.  I actually very slightly like cute girly things…”  He stopped to breathe again.  “Very slightly.”

“I never would have guessed,” Reever answered, though the humor was missing from his voice. “With the clothes you wear and the things you put in your hair and your coffee mug with the bunnies on it. Stop, Komui, before I think I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“Well, anyway.”  At the moment Komui couldn’t quite bring himself to smile at that, especially with Reever’s delivery, but it was certainly a start.  “I won’t laugh.  So, tell me all about the… the stars, and everything.”

“It’s…” Reever sighed heavily, staring almost blankly at the distant stars. “It’s been such a long time. I don’t really–… The stars even look different here. I… suppose I’ll need a set of new ones, won’t I? Well… over there. It’s… that’ll be Jack’s cousin. You see the space there? It’s a rabbit. Jack was bigger, but his cousin’ll have to do. Jack’s cousin, her name can be Jill, she– You know what, Komui? I’m not good at this anymore, and you’re not a three-year-old girl. I feel stupid. And old.”

Komui just twined his fingers into Reever’s as he led them over closer toward the viewing balcony.

“I like rabbits,” he murmured, staring up at the sky speculatively, long dark hair falling over Reever’s shoulder as he tilted his head.  “Is Jill an only child?”

“Have you ever met a rabbit who was an only child?” Reever replied almost whimsically, gaze fixated on the night sky. He gave Komui’s hand a little squeeze. “She has… many, many brothers and sisters up there with her, and she’s never lonely. She’s the youngest, though. Always last in everything. She watches over youngest siblings when no one else will.”

“Oh, good.”  Komui managed a small smile now.  “She can play with Linali.”

“I don’t think she’d need to. Linali has a perfectly good, fair, doting older brother. Jack, though. He watches over abused, overworked, underappreciated older brothers. I used to complain to him all the time.” Reever even managed a quiet little laugh at the memory. Marleen used to get really upset when he told on her to Jack. She was afraid Jack would get upset at them and leave the sky. Reever really had been a rather mean brother in some respects.

“Really?  Were you terribly abused?”  Komui’s smile turned just the slightest bit warmer.  “But if that’s the case, he and I don’t have much to say to each other.  Who watches over the big brothers that have to let their sisters go off to get married?” he wondered with the smallest hint of a pout.

“Oh, that one,” Reever pointed up. “Polaris. North Star. Also known as the ‘reality check’ star, in my own humble opinion. The rest of us should be so lucky as to see our sisters get married to the man of their dreams.” Then he smiled a little brighter and rested his hand on Komui’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Don’t worry, Komui. I’ll even help you castrate the unworthy candidates.”

“Well, it’s nice to know I have your support.”  Komui untwined an arm from Reever’s and glanced up to wave at the North Star.  “You too,” he called cheerfully.

“You always have my support,” Reever added quietly, giving a little shrug. “Even with the giant robots. We’ll just have to take out the desire to drink coffee from the next Komurin.” A little sigh left his lips at that and he closed his eyes briefly before he leaned over to give Komui a little kiss.

“…I love you, Komui. More than I ever thought I could. Come home to me when this is all over, okay? We’ll set up house, make Linali happy. I’ll even volunteer to wear the dress at our wedding,” he murmured, trying desperately to hold his smile. “Just… be okay. And then I’ll be okay. While looking excellent in white, if I might add.”

“You do realize if you wear the dress at our wedding,” Komui mused, feeling caught somewhere between humor and worry and rather extreme awkwardness as he leaned against Reever a little once more, “we will have to take pictures to preserve for posterity forever.  And to show anyone who wants to look at our wedding pictures.  Ever.  For the rest of your life.”  He couldn’t help smiling again, despite how… strange this all felt.  At least Reever seemed rather calmer than before.

“And… as long as I have you to come back to, I’ll always be okay,” he added quietly.

“If we make it that far, you can take all the pictures you want,” Reever promised rather solemnly, considering what he was committing to. “So just make sure you come back to me, then. Because I’ll always be right here, waiting. I’ll never wait for anyone else.”

Komui sighed, and smiled a little again.

“I’m really not going anywhere,” he murmured, and leaned over to kiss Reever on the cheek.  “But if I had to…  You know I’d come back.”

Pulling away a little, he tugged gently on Reever’s arm with both of his own as he turned in the direction of the hallway again.

“Shall we tell the stars good night for the evening?”

“Mm, that sounds good. I… could really use a shower.” Reever sounded a little embarrassed at that and he shook his head, tugging at his clothes.

“Yes, you really could,” Komui allowed with a wry smile as he ushered them back down the hall and off to find their rest.

Welcome back! It’s been a little more than a week, but hopefully we can return to a semi-regular update schedule as of now. We’ve got a lot going on in this chapter, but we can at least promise a bit of a break from the doom and gloom before long :) Enjoy! As always, your comments and feedback are immensely appreciated!

A little bit of Chinese review before we begin:

Diē and niáng – father and mother

Now without further ado~

Ch. 14. The Only Way is Up

It was really the bunny ears that saved them all. There really was no way for Reever to refuse any request Komui had for him when the man looked quite like that, with his hair up in braids that flopped around as he moved. So they went to see Linali, and the two of them made up, and then Reever filled Linali in on the promise Komui had made in exchange for her waking up. They spent the next week or so giving him a hard time about wedding dresses.

The next few weeks passed by peacefully for them, for the most part. Linali spent most of that time resting, though she was beginning to get strength back in her legs. Reever continued to play the part of Supervisor, hating the job as much as he always did — but it was easier on the days Komui came in with him and helped him with the paperwork. Komui continued work on his antivenom theory when he wasn’t with Linali or Reever, and somewhere in there they all managed to work out a design for scented gel pens.

Overall, things were good, for them and for the Order. There were no mass funerals, no Exorcist deaths, and General Theodore even managed to find them a new Compatible somewhere along the way. Johnny finally finished hammering out the last few hitches in the new barrier-projectors for the Finders and Reever approved the final drafts. No word from General Cross. Things were good, and then Reever decided it was time to make them even better.

It was with this in mind that Reever caught Komui in his labs and trapped him to have a little talk.

“Komui~?” he called, an offering of coffee in his hands as he knocked on the lab’s door.

“Reever, you have perfect timing~”

The door did not open, but Komui’s voice — sounding almost disturbingly happy — echoed from the other side.

“…eh?” Reever blinked, then went ahead and opened the door to let himself in. “Komui, what’re you–” And then Reever went silent, as it was all he could do not to drop the coffee. Komui was lying spread-eagled atop the floor, hair loose and spread messily every which way against the dark tiles, staring up at some of the chalkboards on the wall with an expression of utter bliss.

“It’s dooooooone~” he crooned, rolling over a little as Reever walked in to smile at the other man ear-to-ear. He gestured vaguely toward the chalkboards. “It’s doooooone~~ Read iiiiit~~~~”

He beamed up at the ceiling for a moment. “Now all that’s left is to find a compound suitable for a delivery vector…”

“…done?” Reever set the coffee down to look at Komui’s mess of calculations and notes and occasional doodles to try to make sense of it. He wasn’t really checking any of the work just yet, just seeing if Komui had actually gotten through all that had to be done, and, well… it seemed like he had. It was impossible not to catch some of the other’s elation. All the implications, everything this could mean in the war… and not to mention the morale boost it would offer everyone–

“Oh, wow, Komui,” he breathed out. “This is… awesome, it’s… actually, it’s perfect. It’s perfect timing, like a divine sign or something. We should get the team in here, work on finishing this, send it down to the boys on the development floor, and, well. I actually came to talk to you about taking your job back.”

“…Huh?”

Komui sobered a little as he sat up, shaking out his hair and blinking at Reever a little bit quizzically. The elated smile on his face faded out into a quiet, neutral expression.

“I… you did?”

He glanced away from the other man at last with a small, apologetic, faintly pained sort of smile.

“…Reever. You know I can’t,” he murmured.

“Actually, no, I don’t,” Reever answered as he proceeded around the room to peer at Komui’s work, refusing to even acknowledge the other’s change in expression. “It was your job for nine years, you did very well at it, I can do it while excessively intoxicated, and honestly, I have no desire to fill out a permanent transfer application because it’s your job and I don’t want it anymore.”

“…I’m sorry. If you hate it that much, maybe you should pick a new replacement,” Komui murmured. He glanced back toward his painstakingly-completed equations with a faintly timid expression.

Who knew, all this might be just so much rubbish too.

“I was removed from my post. For all I know I’m not even really supposed to be in the building,” he said quietly.

“Komui, that’s not true,” Reever sighed for the, oh, he’d lost count how many times he’d tried to convince Komui that he had not been removed from his post. “You should know that’s not true. I even found that crap piece of paper that told me I was temporarily promoted for you. See?” He dig it out of his pocket and held it out. It was in pretty good condition considering Reever had shoved it under his bed and proceeded to forget about it for the next three years.

“What do I have to do to convince you you’re supposed to be taking your job back from me? Ask the lab boys? Dig up your service record from Mission Ops? Drag you in front of the Head Generals?”

“I–”

For a moment, Komui looked him in the face before glancing away again, expression rather lost.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t be there anyway.”

Far from his good cheer of a few moments before, all of a sudden it felt like everything was… was crashing down on him again. He couldn’t help but think of zhu ren in that moment; days and nights spent following him, becoming what he wanted — a hazily-felt evening in a bathroom–

“I know… what you keep saying…” His gaze was turned timidly downward as he curled up a little where he sat, bangs falling around his eyes. “How, how everybody… you’re waiting for me and all but I– I don’t…”

Why had he been so excited about his stupid research, anyway? There was no way it was actually going to be any help. Surely it had to be all wrong, he’d mistaken his math, the idea was ludicrous in the first place. Just a useless waste of time.

“I’m just going to screw everything up again,” he mumbled toward his lap, arms curling around his waist.

“You’re not going to–” Reever stopped himself, because he was beginning to sound like a broken record. Saying the same things as always wouldn’t do anything, wouldn’t change a damn thing. Komui was just so, so convinced that he was a screwup and underqualified that nothing Reever tried to say to him was getting through.

“I don’t understand, Komui,” he finally managed, voice quieter than it had been before. The frustration was gone, as were any hints of anger. “If you shouldn’t be there, where should you be? You’re our Supervisor. This is our home. Isn’t it…? Where else should you be?”

With–

The unspoken answer hung in the air like an accusation.

Our home– There was something–

He couldn’t say it; it would make Reever upset. But he– He– Dammit, it was the truth, and there wasn’t anything Komui could do about it even if he… might have wanted to.

Just a little bit.

“…I don’t know,” he mumbled toward the floor again, stretching out a little where he was sitting. He stared at the tiles with arms pulled close around his chest and… and wished for…

Things he couldn’t have.

“He made me to be with him,” Komui said quietly. The hole in his chest, the one he’d gotten so good at ignoring except when he woke up in the morning and went to bed at night, gave a single painful throb.

“Komui…” Reever whispered, voice pained. He didn’t know what he could say to that. “Is… is this not home to you anymore, Komui? Would… would you rather be with… with him than here?” And all of a sudden Reever felt strange again, strange like being the only Aussie in his whole school. Strange like the pea he’d found in his scrambled eggs his ma had made for him that one day. Strange like the little square block Gabby had forced into a round opening. Strange, like he just didn’t fit right where he was.

“I… I don’t get it, Komui. Any of it, I just–” He looked down at his hands. Strange like the puzzle piece that had fit until Marleen got it all soggy. There was just no making it fit again.

From Komui’s direction, there was a little noise of almost physical pain.

He had curled up tight with knees pulled against his chest and face pressed against those, arms hugging his legs close, shaking his head slowly, trying to — to think–

Home– he kept saying–

Home? What was home? Where was — was this — Had he ever once thought — this place– Anywhere– Nowhere–

Where zhu ren was–

Do you really think that will save you, Little Bird?

“Home–”

Komui sucked in a trembling breath and tried not to cry. “He took it…” His voice dwindled to an unsteady mumble. This place was–

“He took it away.”

“What…?” Reever asked in response, not really comprehending what Komui was trying to say. He moved over and knelt down next to where Komui was, holding out his hands uncertainly. Should he hold him…? Would Komui want him to? Would Komui let him?

“Took away what, Komui?” Reever questioned quietly, hand finally coming to a rest on Komui’s shoulder. “This is home now, isn’t it? Here, in the Order. But you’re back now.”

“…We went there.”

Komui didn’t seem to really be listening.

“We went there and he took it too… The very last place…” Gradually Komui’s voice rose in pitch, still shaking; quietly, composedly hysterical as he sat there with trembling hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt. The tears leaked out before he could keep them away.

“Diē and niáng died downstairs and he didn’t care… He didn’t care…” Komui lapsed into Chinese, mumbling.

“He took everything.“

The image took a while to paint itself into Reever’s mind, all the blanks filling in. There was– Cross– Even a man like Cross couldn’t possibly– But he had. Completely desecrated Komui’s childhood home, took something that Akuma had already ravaged and then– The place Komui had grown up, all of his happy memories of before the war, everything. Reever suddenly understood, understood it all. How Cross had finally, finally taken all that was left of Komui. How Cross finally managed to break him. Why Komui was so lost now.

Slowly, carefully, Reever reached out and pulled Komui into his arms, pressed the other’s tear-streaked face against his chest. Held him there. Just held him, tried to show him that he wasn’t alone. Reever didn’t really know anymore, if anything he did could undo what Cross had done. But he had to try. He couldn’t call himself someone who loved Komui if he didn’t even try. He pressed his lips against the top of Komui’s head.

“He’ll never have everything, Komui,” Reever whispered softly, finding Komui’s wrist with one hand. He ran his fingers over the bracelet there, the one that had once been his. “He can take everything around you away, but he’ll never have all of you. I won’t let him. You’ll never belong to anyone but yourself.” There was a promise there, one that Reever would never take back.

Because.

For the longest time, he had felt almost guilty for hoping against hope that Cross would die in Japan.

Now he didn’t feel guilty at all anymore.

The hole where Komui’s insides used to be was throbbing like someone had thrust their fist through it. He couldn’t — couldn’t think right over the pain and the terror and the– the plaster-covered wall; the dust on his bed; the faded wall hanging; Cross–

zhu ren–

touching him–

He shuddered against Reever for a while, barely registering the tears on his cheeks or the shirt against his hands or anything at all, until the hurt grew so intense he couldn’t even really feel it anymore and everything started to go numb. He stilled gradually and went limp where he lay against Reever’s chest, staring down toward the hem of the Supervisor’s coat the other man was wearing, breath unsteady.

Reever… Reever was saying things. Things about. Him. Himself?

…belonged to himself?

He hadn’t for such a long time.

“…I don’t belong to me,” he said slowly, after a while. Hoarsely. When his voice would work. When he could… make words.

“I belong to zhu ren.”

And… the others. That he’d managed to forget, somehow, over the last three years.

“To Linali. The Order. …. to you.”

“No, Komui,” Reever repeated softly, though he managed a watery little smile to hear that Komui remembered even a little of what they had once been. “You always belong to you. And the rest of us… Linali and me, we don’t want to own you. Loving you is enough. Loving you is enough and being loved by you is all we could ever ask of you. No one owns you, Komui.” Except for perhaps the Order, but the Order owned them all. That was a depressing thought for another day. Reever tightened his grip on Komui a little.

“I’ll never let him get away with hurting you again, I swear.”

A hand curled loosely around Reever’s shirt.

“…I still want to go with him,” Komui whispered, voice a rasp, exhausted.

“I want to. I want to so much. I need to.”

He took a deep breath. “…Please.”

–Linali and Reever and the Order, Jerry, Johnny and Tapp and 65, Komurin, his labs and his office and his stupid experiments and his brilliant ones and his Finders, oh his Finders, his brave Exorcists, the big old silly castle with its cathedral and its halls and the stairs that wound up to his room and Reever’s room and the balcony outside in the rain–

“Please don’t let me.”

Reever felt himself ache at Komui’s words, deeply and painfully as though someone was pouring something hot and blistering into the very marrow of his bones. His chest constricted, stopped his breath. That Komui actually wanted to go with Cross, wanted it badly and desperately and– Reever understood. Komui wanted Cross and needed Cross and knew he had to be stopped and because of that, Reever understood.

“I won’t,” he promised fiercely in a breathless but steady voice. “I won’t let you go with him again. I’ll keep you with us here forever.”

Because he understood. Komui needed Cross the way Reever needed a drink in the morning, wanted to be with him the way Reever wanted his blackouts. They terrified him, but he didn’t know how to live without them anymore. Reever didn’t really know if he could ever kill his reflex to have a drink whenever anything went wrong, but now he knew he had to try. Because if he couldn’t even stop his dependence on alcohol, how would he hope that Komui could ever be Komui again?

Komui nodded slowly against Reever’s chest. He slid his arms around the other man as they sat there still, clutching at the back of Reever’s coat — his coat — thinking about zhu ren– about, about Cross and…

There had been — a promise– One night when they–

He was pretty sure.

He pulled his arms tighter around Reever’s body, and quietly let himself cry again for a while. He cried, and Reever simply waited and held him, let the other’s tears soak into the white of his jacket. Reever held him and let him cry and gave himself that time to really appreciate holding Komui again, having him there in his arms. It was something that, for the longest time, he had feared he would never feel again.

“…I’m here,” he murmured. He wasn’t sure where the words were coming from, but they felt right. “I’m here. I’ll always, always be here.”

Komui held on tightly.

When he finally calmed again at last, he felt… drained. A relieved kind of drained, almost; like he’d lanced an infected sore and watched all the disease dribble out of it. Slowly, he shifted his arms up to stretch around Reever’s neck, turning on his side a little to rest his cheek near the other man’s heart; and just lay there and quietly breathed. For a little while, he let his eyes drift closed.

“…Reever?” he murmured, some time later.

“Yeah?” Reever answered tiredly, absently stroking Komui’s hair and back.

Komui kept his eyes closed as he lay there just a moment longer, feeling, breathing. Funny. He’d forgotten Reever smelled so nice, under the alcohol.

Then he shifted a little to glance up at the other man’s face, looking ever so slightly sleepy as he blinked red-rimmed eyes, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“…you brought coffee, didn’t you?” he said, faintly speculatively.

“I did,” Reever confirmed after a brief scrabbling at his memory (as well as a quick glance toward the table where he’d left the drink) confirmed that he had, in fact, brought coffee.

He paused for a moment.

“But I’m sorry, that’s the Supervisor’s mug. Only the Supervisor gets to drink that coffee.”

A faint hint of something like a pout passed briefly across Komui’s face; and then he leaned back against Reever’s chest again, and was quiet for a long while. Slowly, timidly almost, one hand reached up to run light fingers over the silver Rose Cross on the Supervisor’s jacket, laying directly in front of his eyes. Komui’s half-lidded gaze was distant.

“…I don’t… know if I can do it again,” he said quietly. Swallowed, took a deep breath. Traced a cross over Reever’s heart.

“If I– If I mess everything up… will you forgive me?”

“Forgive you if you mess up?” Reever repeated slowly, pondering the thought. “Hm… Now that you mention it, I think that might actually be part of my job description.” Then his expression sobered and he smiled reassuringly at Komui, planting a light kiss on the other’s cheek.

“I’ll always forgive you, Komui. Whether I like it not, actually. It’s one of those package deals that comes with being in love with you.”

Komui swallowed and just… looked at him for a moment, expression rather terrified. Then he took another deep breath, let it all out at once, and pulled away to rise unsteadily to his feet. One hand found Reever’s own and held on tightly.

“I…” He stopped, heart pounding. Lips drew together slowly, brows furrowed. “I… Fine then. I want some damn coffee.”

“One cup of coffee for the Supervisor, then,” Reever grinned, grabbing the mug to hand to Komui. “Now just… hold that for a second and… and… call me Head Officer. Please? And tell me why you can’t possibly go into work today. And then maybe build a giant robot or two and that’ll… that’ll make my day. Especially when tomorrow comes around and I start regretting the giant robots.”

“Well, Officer Reever,” Komui told him primly, taking another deep breath as he raised his eyebrows, “clearly I can’t do any work today because you’ve got my jacket. Which you’re going to go put in the laundry for me, correct?”

He took a sip of lukewarm coffee and… somehow, felt very, very okay.

“…laundry,” Reever repeated, casting Komui a very disbelieving, long-abused look. Then he started laughing as he shrugged the jacket off his shoulders, looking happier than he had in, well, years. “Is there anything else I can have washed for you, Supervisor? Starched? Ironed? Folded?”

Komui glanced down at the floor because, for some reason, he just couldn’t stop the smile creeping across his face.

He just knew that in the end he was going to screw everything up, but… it felt indescribably good to be addressed by that name again.

“No, I think that’ll do, Officer,” he murmured over his mug, smile softening a little as he looked back up almost shyly at the other man.

“If you’re sure, then, Supervisor.” Reever caught that look Komui was giving him and smiled contentedly back, reaching out to take one of Komui’s hands in his own. “But if you change your mind, I’m here. If you need anything at all.” There was a short pause before Reever’s smile broadened into a bit of a grin.

“…aside from me signing all your papers. That you have to do yourself, I’m afraid.”

“Well… I’ve got this research to work on, and Linali to see to and all…”

The smile on Komui’s face widened a little as he glanced away.

“I’m afraid I’m going to be ruining your nice clean floor again, Officer.”

“No, not the floor!” Reever groaned. “And my nice desk! And… and… the office.” He ended with a mournful little sniff and cast his gaze to the floor, looking as though Komui had just told him that they had to put down his puppy. Secretly, though, he couldn’t wait to see the office back to normal. It wasn’t his office anyway, and it had never felt right making it clean. Which was entirely why Reever kept it that way.

Komui just smiled a little more.

“…So,” he murmured after a while, glancing around, “I should probably…” He waved a hand at the chalkboards. “Spend today getting all this stuff down on paper. –Ah, here we are…” He walked over to an oversized portfolio lying on one of the lab tables, hauling it to a closer one and grabbing his pen from nearby to plunk down on top. (He had a sparkly grape-scented purple gel pen, gifted to him by Reever, and he was rather enthusiastic about it.)

“And then, um…” He still looked nervous, but took another deep breath and a sip of coffee, and glanced up at Reever again, questioning. “We can change over properly tomorrow?”

“Sounds perfect,” Reever confirmed with a nod. “I’ll even file the paperwork for you. And get myself fitted for a new lab coat. Oh, the sweet bliss that is being able to roll up my jacket sleeves.” A wistful, fond sigh left his lips at that and he cast a dreamy gaze at nothing in particular.

“…oh, but while we’re still here. You think you could maybe… call me ‘boss’? Just once, before all that abuse starts up again so I can stop fantasizing about it and start fantasizing about you calling me– …well, anyway, please?” Reever begged, not sounding suspicious at all.

For a second, Komui stared at him. Then he raised an eyebrow, and slowly, a wide smile spread across his face. It was a happy, mischievious, amused smile, with the tiniest dash of evil thrown in for taste. It was the most… Komui he’d looked in the entire time he’d been back.

He trotted over to Reever’s side and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“But Reever, you were never my boss,” he said sweetly as he headed toward the door.

“I can still have you scrubbing bathrooms until you’re reinstated!” Reever pouted but found himself smiling still all the same. Then he decided it was about time he came up with a pen that would only wash out with a special solution that only he would be privy to.

Because, well, with all the sleeping on the job the Supervisor would be doing, someone would have to take up the task of drawing on his face.

“I suppose you could, but I’m really terrible at scrubbing toilets, you know, you’d probably have to come help me,” Komui informed him cheerily, pulling open the laboratory door.

“And I’m feeling very French at the moment, so I’m going to go find my beret. Adieu!”

And without waiting for an answer from Reever, the creaky old door clanged shut.

- – -

A few days after Komui was reinstated as Chief Supervisor, things seemed to be falling back into the old routine, or as close to the old routine as they were going to get. The office was a proper mess again, Jerry had regular company in the evenings, and Reever found the words ‘Supervisor, these papers need your signature’ firmly in his vocabulary once more. There were the off times, where parts of the job that had become unfamiliar to Komui caught him by surprise and shook him a little or more than a little, but so far Reever somehow always managed to get a handle on those. Not a great handle, but he was getting better at being Head Officer again, the new demands of the job and all. Overall, everything was as fine as could be expected and their professional lives were almost as they had once been.

And that was exactly the problem in Linali’s mind. Komui and Reever were both so busy fixing their professional lives that they really weren’t fixing their romantic life at all, and that simply wouldn’t do. Komui needed a proper boyfriend now more than ever. So it was with that in mind that she devised her new master plan.

Since she was bedridden two-thirds of the day, she had a great deal of time to plot and thus the plan was needlessly elaborate, but a girl had to do something for entertainment when her legs weren’t working as well as they should.

It started with a call to R&D, to the one boy who she knew well enough to ask favors from.

“…six locks? Who are you trying to keep out, Linali?” he’d asked, but she assured him she needed this and, with a little sigh, he promised to get right on it after his shift.

Next was Jerry. She asked him for a month’s worth of water and non-perishable food, which he was more than happy to provide once he heard her plan from start to finish.

Finally, when all the food was in her room and all the locks were installed and armed, she had her wireless Golem call her brother’s office. She waited for him to pick up.

In the Supervisor’s office, a certain unsuspecting big brother was sitting at his desk, poring over department progress reports from the years he’d been gone. At Reever’s suggestion, he’d had each department put together a summary so he could properly catch up with the important things that had happened during his absence. Hearing the sound of golem wings fluttering around his head, he glanced up curiously to find the creature blinking at him in call-waiting mode.

“Hello? Komui here?” he greeted whoever was on the other end of the line. Most of their Exorcists were at HQ right now; he wasn’t expecting any Golem calls…

“Ge ge!” Linali called in her very best little sister ‘I’m mad at you and about to throw a tantrum’ voice. “I’ve locked myself in my room and I’m not coming out! I am holding myself hostage.”

“L… Linali!?” Komui stared at the golem in alarmed confusion. “Hostage? What are you talking about? What in the world is the matter?”

“I’ve locked myself in my room with a month’s supply of food and I’m not going to come out until I starve to death unless you do exactly as I say,” she answered, though she was unable to completely bite back a giggle at the end of her little speech. She’d always wanted to fake her own kidnapping. It was a childhood fantasy of hers, complete with Komui riding in on a white horse to rescue her. This reenactment was a little different, but close enough for Linali.

“Wha– Why!? You could’ve just… asked me whatever it is…!” Komui jumped up to pace around the room distraughtly, the golem following him as he made his rounds through the slowly-growing piles of papers on the floor.

“You know your ge ge will do anything for you, right? So why don’t you just come out of there and tell me what you want?” he requested worriedly, pouting at the golem’s mechanical face.

“No, I couldn’t have because you would have smiled that big brother smile and told me you’d try your best and then you would have put it out of your mind until the next time I brought it up,” Linali pointed out. “And so I’m definitely not coming out until my demands are met.” Because, well, she did know that Komui would do anything for her. The problem was that what she wanted him to do wasn’t for her at all.

Komui sighed and plopped down in his desk chair again, grabbing a pen and a blank piece of paper with his expression hovering between worried and vaguely disgruntled.

“All right then, kidnapper,” he wondered irreverently, “what are your demands?”

“You have to go on a real, romantic, full-evening date with Reever-ge ge. Formal dress. Nice restaurant. Reever-ge ge has to bring you flowers and candy. There has to be dancing and other such romantic things. A walk in the moonlight. The works. And photographic proof of all this, or I stay exactly where I am, ge ge,” Linali rattled off. She had been practicing all day.

Komui was silent for a moment, thoroughly jotting down each item on Linali’s list, and then, once he was finished, let out a sigh.

“So how many locks are there on your bedroom door now?”

“Six,” Linali reported proudly. “And my R&D friend installed them all, so they’ll withstand the apocalypse.”

Komui paused, stared down at the paper, and spent a few moments seriously debating the merits of just inventing a device to pick all the locks for him before the month was up.

“Well, Linali…” He paused and sighed a little again, eyes skimming over the list. “I don’t know if Reever wants to go on a date. And even if he does, I don’t know if he’ll want to do all this stuff. What am I supposed to do if he says no? I don’t want my baby sister to starve to death.” He pouted at the golem some more.

“Of course he will. He’s in love with you and he wouldn’t let me starve to death either. And you’re both free to swap the things on the list for events of equal romantic value,” Linali offered. “Sex doesn’t count unless it’s romantic sex. Like in a bathtub filled with rose petals. Or something.”

Komui proceeded to be very glad the golems weren’t on video mode as his face turned bright red.

“Linaliiiiiiiii, I don’t want to think about you thinking about me having sex, ever,” he moaned, dropping his forehead against the desk with sheer horror.

“…fine, I’ll… I’ll ask him, all right?” he mumbled into the glass. “But this might — take a while… Eat your food supply really slowly. …O-okay?”

He glanced up again to frown worriedly into the golem’s face.

“Well, the sooner I’m back on my feet the sooner I’ll be out of free time to contemplate the dynamics of your sex life, ge ge,” Linali answered cheerfully. “And I will! I have a figure to keep, after all. I’ll be just fine, but that doesn’t mean you can drag your feet on this, okay?”

“You say that like it’s my fault.” Komui pouted a little.

“All right, Linali, I’ll get on it, I’ll get on it. You… You take care.”

“I somehow manage without you,” Linali reassured. “…I love you, ge ge! Make sure to give Reever-ge ge an extra kiss for me~!”

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Komui frowned unhappily at the golem as the signal clicked out.

…shit, what the hell was he going to do.

For a while he just laid his head down on his desk and took deep breaths and, after he’d determined that this was not going to magically produce an answer to his problem, rose and adjusted his uniform a little, swung his long ponytail back over his shoulder, and headed down the hall to poke his head in the door of the Science Department.

“Hey, anybody seen Officer Reever?” he asked, giving a cheerful wave (not that he really felt it, but it was important to keep up appearances).

“Oh, Supervisor!” Johnny greeted him in an enthusiastic but rather sleep-deprived fashion. “Reever was just… hum… I think he said he was going to Mission Ops for more forms and then to one of the storage rooms for a dart gun… oh, I think he was actually going to look for you. That was only a couple minutes ago, so he should still be on his way–” A yawn interrupted him then and he had to wait for it to pass before continuing.

“…to Mission Ops, probably.”

“…A dart gun? Now that’s just mean,” Komui pouted a little, turning around again. He didn’t have any choice about looking for Reever, so he just hoped he didn’t get tranquilized before he had the chance to explain why he was out of his office. “Thanks, Johnny, see you later~”

He headed briskly down the corridor toward the stairs that led to Mission Ops, and in the meantime, tried to decide how in the world he was going to go about this. So far he wasn’t doing very well for ideas. What should he… what should he even say? He wasn’t sure exactly where things stood between him and Reever, and he was more than a little afraid to broach the subject. Did Reever even want to — to… be like that anymore? He kept… well, he kept saying

I love you, Komui.

…..things. But, he. The way he acted was… Komui didn’t even know. But things were different. More distant. It didn’t feel the same as it had once been; that much he was sure about, even if some of the details were still jumbled and trying to fit them together right hurt too much. Things were more distant and Reever was more distant, a little more professional, and Komui supposed it was his fault, and he didn’t want to push the other man into more than he was comfortable with. All things considered, he was incredibly lucky even to still have Reever as a friend. Let alone anything else.

And he…

Did he want anything else?

Did he want…

It was… god… it was too soon. He didn’t know what he wanted, he couldn’t–

zhu ren–

–he knew exactly what he wanted and he couldn’t have it. Couldn’t let himself.

…but he missed Reever. He just… it was the one thing that had never changed, would never change. He just wanted Reever to be happy.

Half-caught up in thought, glancing around for any sign of a familiar dirty-blond head, Komui wandered down the hallway looking, perhaps, a little bit lost.

“Supervisor!”

Reever caught sight of Komui over the pile of paperwork Mission Ops had unloaded on him as he headed back down the hall toward the central staircase. Normally, he would have scolded Komui for being out of his office in the middle of a busy day or at least given him an extremely withering, exasperated expression, but not much was normal around the Order anymore. Even by the Order’s standards, which was actually a rather terrifying notion when Reever really got down to thinking about it. So, in lieu of chaining Komui to his chair the way Reever had always secretly dreamed about, he simply made his way over to stand next to Komui so that he could see him better.

“Something wrong, Komui?”

“Um…”

Komui stared at him a second before smiling nervously.

“Before that, um, how about I help you carry those back? Looks a little bit heavy.”

“…the world’s not ending, is it? Call the Earl back. Tell him I have a day off this weekend and if he’s going to end the world, he needs to reschedule for a Monday because I’ve worked too hard for this day off,” Reever groaned half-seriously, then smiled as he offered Komui half the stack.

“Well, Komui. It’s not my birthday and yours isn’t coming up so you must want something. What is it? And don’t ask for the day off because I’m already buried over here.”

“Uh… Actually…” Komui hugged the papers against his chest and glanced back the way he’d come, taking a few steps in the direction of his office. “I found you a lot sooner than I figured I would so I kind of… hadn’t gotten to that part of the… pondering yet,” he confessed sheepishly. The Supervisor paused to take a deep breath. “…Give me a second?”

“Oh, take your time,” Reever answered quickly, offering him another smile. “I found you a lot sooner than I expected too, so suddenly the rest of my schedule for today is full of a lot of nothing.”

“…Okay then.” Komui swallowed and gave a sharp nod before starting down the corridor.

They wandered all the way back to the Supervisor’s office in silence, a trip made much shorter by not having to stop for a dart gun on the way, and once inside Reever didn’t press Komui for any answers. He knew enough to count the little blessings and went straight to sorting Komui’s paperwork into neat little piles so that Komui wouldn’t get thrown off by going from dispatch notices to applications to mission reports all in a row. Komui sorted through his own half with Reever in silence, tossing papers mostly into the same piles (a few went on the floor where they belonged, a few others in his chair so he wouldn’t forget to read them) and studiously avoiding looking at the other man. Then at last, however, he found himself with nothing left in his hands, and…

….he still had absolutely no clue what to say.

Nervously he reached up to brush some hair behind one ear, and his eyes turned toward Reever’s face for the very briefest moment before glancing down again.

“…So. Um.”

“Hm?” Reever asked, glancing up from the last few papers in his hand. He finished sorting those quickly and wiped his hands against his pants, then turned fully to face Komui, trying to decide whether to be curious or worried. “What’s up, Komui?”

Komui looked back up at the other man for a moment, expression rather petrified. Gave himself another three seconds to think of something brilliant and logical and stunning to say. Glanced away again.

“Um… Linali’s locked herself in her room and she refuses to come out until we go on a date. With, um. Romantic stuff. …She has a list of demands,” he mumbled in a rather mortified fashion, fidgeting with the edge of one jacket sleeve.

…This was not going well.

“…demands? She’s… what?” Reever was gaping at Komui with a bewildered expression. Somehow this was all very déjà vu. “She’s… holding herself hostage until we go on a date? And she made a list of– You know, I’m really beginning to think she’s very, very strange and that we’ve been enabling her.”

“Don’t talk about my sister that way,” Komui pouted instantly, nervousness momentarily forgotten. “She’s probably just… bored. And possibly reads too many romance novels… all those long train rides…” he mused to himself, raising an eyebrow.

“Anyway… um. She… called me up on her golem and delivered her demands.” He sighed a little and glanced around his desk until he found the notes he’d made, and then thrust the paper at Reever without looking at him, his other hand agitatedly tugging on a lock of hair.

“If you say so, Supervisor,” Reever sighed, taking the paper. “Let’s see… Full evening date at a nice restaurant… formal wear? Is she under the impression I own anything other than my work clothes? Flowers and candy…? Dancing and a moonlit walk? Photographic proof? What’s this…?” He squinted at something scrawled in the margin. “Or romantic events of equal value,” he read out slowly. Then he spent a minute just staring at the list, blinking. When he finally looked up at Komui again, it was only to find the Supervisor a very impressively bright shade of red. Reever suddenly found himself grinning as Komui’s behavior so far was rather clearly explained. He was sure that Komui’s awkwardness about picking up their romantic relationship really couldn’t be a good sign, but it was endearing somehow. Terribly, terribly endearing. Just seeing that embarrassed little look on the other’s face, and, well… Reever was falling in love all over again.

“Ah, well,” he sighed heavily, frowning in a very troubled way. “I wish she would have come straight to me instead of this silly hostage business. How am I supposed to surprise you with reservations and flowers and candy if you got the list of demands first? But the moonlit walk will have to go. There’s nowhere really good to walk around here. I’d want to swap it for something in an equally poorly-lit environment, though. I can’t really think of anywhere offhand… but maybe Jerry will know!”

Komui attempted to make his mouth work around the mortification.

“U-um… So you… Don’t– …. mind?”

He very narrowly avoided squishing some paperwork, remembering to move the reports at the last moment as he plopped down into his chair.

“Mind?” Reever asked lightly. He knew why Komui might be afraid of that, knew because he had been standing on that side of the fence until about a minute and a half ago. “Unless you only want to go on a date with me to get out of work and to get your sister out of her room, why would I mind?”

Komui looked up for a moment again, looked Reever in the face, swallowed, nodded; smiled a little awkwardly. He might not have known exactly what he wanted, but…

One date wouldn’t… well… It would be– nice.

“All right then, that’s… that’s all I wanted to know,” he said brightly, turning toward the piles of papers. Lately the ability to get drowned in the minutiae of paperwork and not have to worry about anything else for a while seemed scarily more like a blessing than a curse, some days. “Let me work on these so we can go… uh… Plan about that.”

“Komui Li, I think you just stole my breath away,” Reever teased. “Let me go see if I have anything resembling formal wear before I swoon at the sight of you working willingly. Not to mention, God, I’ll have to look up decent restaurants in the area, flower shops, places that specializes in selling chocolates since I don’t think Linali’ll be okay with it if I hand you a bag of jelly beans… I don’t know how people make a habit of doing this, really.” He sighed, rubbing the side of his face.

“Well, anyway. I should get going on that. Good thing I don’t have anything else to do today… You don’t worry about the arrangements, okay? Just stay here and get your work done.” Reever waved as he turned to leave, but then a thought occurred to him and he hesitated, looking back. “One more thing before I go, Komui,” he added quickly, looking a bit sheepish himself.

“Should I shave or not…?”

Komui stared at him for a moment, expression turning speculative.

“…Ummmm.”

Finally he frowned unhappily, laying his chin against the desk. “We’re supposed to take pictures. I imagine Linali won’t be pleased if you don’t.”

“So we are doing this just doing this to appease Linali?” Reever asked, sounding a little wounded. He rubbed his stubble with a little half sniff. “Don’t worry guys, I still love you. It’s okay. We won’t be apart for long.”

“Well, I’d like for her to come out of her room sometime before her food store runs out,” Komui mumbled, gaze turning down on the desk next to his nose. He stared at it quietly for a second, half-lidded gaze hiding his eyes beneath dark lashes.

“…but, um. No.”

“…I’m just teasing, Komui,” Reever reassured, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt rather silly now. “I’ll shave, go get my hair trimmed. Don’t worry. No one less than Prince Charming’s going to show up here asking for a date from you, okay?”

Komui couldn’t help cracking a little smile at that, sitting up on his elbows and nodding a bit before reaching for a form off the pile. “And I’ll be here, I guess,” he said, grabbing a pen. He tapped it idly against the desk, giving himself a second to breathe. This was… it would be just fine. It would even be fun, he was sure.

“See you later?” he said, smiling shyly up at Reever again.

“Of course,” Reever nodded, flushing a little bit. He… he rather liked it when Komui smiled at him like that. Then he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck some more before he headed off to get things ready for their date.

What a strange, foreign little word.

- – -

Komui spent most of the rest of the day doing paperwork, and a large portion of the night staring up at his ceiling and not getting a wink of sleep; in the morning, feeling terribly distracted and morbidly certain he’d get his orders mixed up and accidentally send 500 Finders to converge on the Bermuda Triangle or something, he decided to count the day for a loss and didn’t bother turning up in his office. Instead he threw on some clothes and went to putter around a lab or three for a while, walk slowly and cautiously past Linali’s locked door, and then make a rather rambling tour of the castle, wandering where his feet would take him. He stopped on the top floor of one of the high watchtowers for a while to sip coffee and watch the birds, fluttering past the window down toward the islands below, and the clouds drifting by overhead.

…he was changing whether he liked it or not, really.

I’m sorry, zhu ren.

On Reever’s end, the first thing he did after parting with Komui was to go into town and find a proper barber. He had his hair trimmed enough to look tidy, shaved, then dug out all the money he hadn’t managed to blow on alcohol and dropped it all on a clean suit instead. It was dark green, because the man at the shop had told him it suited him and brought out his eyes. Then he went to the flower shop and agonized over what to buy. Roses were a little too bold, he thought. A little too presumptuous. Lotuses were pretty, but there was an unwritten rule that no one was to carry them around Headquarters because they sent Kanda into a vaguely homicidal fit of brooding. Daisies were too childish, too schoolyard ‘he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not’. What Reever finally settled on was decided on impulse. Sunflowers. They were the smaller sort, bright and cheery. They reminded him of Komui somehow. The girl at the register gave him a skeptical look when he mentioned that it was for his date, but she didn’t make any other suggestions because she had seen him stand there looking lost for over an hour and figured it was probably best not to cause him any more frustration.

The chocolates were easier. He picked out a box of mocha truffles and a little bag of chocolate covered espresso beans, then worried that he was being too obvious and that maybe Komui or Linali would get upset that he wasn’t putting enough thought into it– (Why did it distinctly feel like he was dating both of them rather than just Komui?) Then he decided Komui rather liked him sane (or at least he hoped) and to just leave it, because he really couldn’t afford to spend another hour crawling around for the right candy.

The next three hours were spent finding a restaurant that was nice enough to require reservations but not so nice that he needed them weeks in advance. He settled on a French place whose name he couldn’t pronounce and asked for a business card to save him the trouble of explaining that to Komui. The Aux Lyonnais.

By the time Reever got back to Headquarters, all he had the time left to do was collapse in bed and hope he would get enough sleep in to save himself from getting bags under his eyes. Or, rather, rid himself from the bags he already had under his eyes.

The morning snuck up on Reever not entirely unlike a mugger, and before Reever knew it the sun was shining brightly in his eyes and his reservation was fast approaching. He rolled out of bed with an ‘oof’ and somehow crawled into the shower.

He was clean a little after noon, dressed and armed with flowers and chocolate and properly groomed by just before one, and out the door by one-thirty. (He spent half an hour sitting on his bed, busily being nervous.) He went straight to the office only to find that Komui hadn’t checked in that morning.

Well. That helped.

Sighing, Reever ran his hand through his carefully combed hair out of habit and tried to decide where to go looking first. He never imagined he’d have to play this game with Komui when he didn’t even have a pile of papers in hand.

Komui, meanwhile, had eventually run out of coffee, and figuring it would take a while to properly brush out his hair, had made his way back downstairs to his own room. There he cleaned up, sat down on his bed and stroked the black locks until they were about as soft and as orderly as they were going to get; tied them back for the moment, and then wandered over to the armoire. He opened it up and sifted through it almost restlessly, staring at the clothes he had on offer.

His hand came to rest on a certain long, shimmering snow-colored tunic.

It was, by far, the nicest thing he had in his closet. There was a single Western-style suitcoat stuffed somewhere in the back, generally worn on visits to the Vatican. Other than that the majority of his closet was either for traveling, or for working; his nice clothes were basically cheongsam and… and this.

Patterened with birds. Purchased for zhu ren’s eyes, with zhu ren’s money.

Slowly he pulled the hanger down off the rack, looked at the garment for a moment; clutched it against his chest. Pressed his face close to it. It did not smell like zhu ren. It did not smell like his wine or his cigarettes or his hair or… anything at all. Komui had only worn it once or twice since they first bought it.

…he’d never been on a date, a real date, with Reever before, and he felt like…

He wanted. To show him.

Something.

He wanted to… to be…

He stood at the armoire for a little while longer, then closed the door and turned around, and sat down to get dressed.

After searching a long while and finally gathering a general consensus that no one had seen Komui that day, Reever decided to check if Komui hadn’t even left his room yet.

“Komui?” he asked, knocking on the door. Not immediately hearing a response, Reever wondered if Komui was still asleep or something and opened the door to have a look around.

“Are you in here, Komui?” he asked again.

Or, well, he would have if he’d had any breath to do so.

Instead his mouth fell open with the beginnings of the question before he caught sight of Komui, standing in the middle of his room dressed in shimmering white-silver, hair down save for his long bangs which were loosely swept up and clipped together at the back of his head by a beaded barrette.

Reever continued to stare blankly, not realizing that his mouth was hanging open or that he was losing his grip on his bouquet of sunflowers until he almost dropped them. He quickly caught them again before they had the chance to hit the floor and even remembered to close his mouth, but couldn’t remember for the life of him what he was doing standing in this room with such a stunning person.

“Um,” he managed, clutching the flowers to his chest, entire face a light shade of red. “Uh… Um. Hi. Komui.”

Komui, in his turn, blinked for a moment at the way he was being stared at; finished sliding his foot into his shoe; and turned a little pink himself.

He smiled a little abashedly as he walked forward, eyes turning down toward Reever’s hands. “You actually got me flowers…?” He gave a small, slightly nervous but genuine laugh.

“…You look nice. Green suits you,” he declared after a moment, smiling a little wider, feeling incredibly awkward with the look on the other man’s face.

Reever turned a slightly deeper shade of pink. He didn’t have the best self esteem in the world, but he made a career of not caring so most of the time it didn’t matter. He mostly expected to be dead before he turned forty anyway. But hearing Komui say he looked nice, well, it made Reever want to go stare in the mirror and try to figure out what Komui was talking about and make more of it happen. But since that would look silly, he just rubbed the back of his neck again and smiled awkwardly, wondering how long it would take before his face started resembling a tomato.

“Not as nice as you,” he offered rather quietly. Then he held out the flowers in a way that was alarmingly reminiscent of a six year old boy holding out a dead bug as a romantic offering to the teacher he had a crush on. “They’re, um. Sunflowers. Which were probably a bad idea because the lady selling them gave me this look, but… um. They reminded me of you. I-in a good way, of course!”

“They reminded you of me…?”

Komui blinked for a second and then gave another quiet, breathy, helpless little laugh, accepting the bouquet into both hands with his lips curled into a warm, pleased smile. He fingered one soft yellow petal as he gave the gift all due attention.

“I don’t know anything about this stuff either, so maybe we can ask a girl later if you accidentally told me you never want to see me again in flower language or something,” he offered cheerfully, gaze flitting up to meet Reever’s again for just a moment, a little bit shy. “…I think they’re perfect. Do they smell like anything?…”

He brought the bouquet to his face with a smile.

“Um… flowers?” Reever offered helpfully with a little shrug. “The most I know about sunflowers is, uh… you can eat the seeds, I think. Except not in those. They’re kind of small. I guess you put them in a vase and… watch them. I don’t know. You… like them, then?” He sounded a little breathlessly happy just then. “I, um… There’s chocolates too, but… they’re kind of… kind of… simple.”

Komui blinked at him again, eyes lighting up as he shifted the flowers away from his face. “You got me chocolate?” He beamed at the other man briefly, wondering meanwhile whether he had anything in here that would serve as a vase. Maybe the long skinny pencil holder sitting on his desk…

–and Reever had gotten him sugar. Granted all this stuff had been on Linali’s note, but he hadn’t really expected…

Maybe this dating business wasn’t so bad after all.

“…I didn’t think to get you anything,” it occurred to him after a moment. Komui frowned abashedly. “I’ll have to make it up to you later.”

“I was beginning to notice that the man doesn’t seem to get much out of it but the affections of the lady in traditional relationships, but I’m beginning to get how that’d be enough,” Reever answered with a little embarrassed smile. He took the box of chocolates out from under his arm and dug the chocolate espresso beans out of his pocket, then held out both to Komui. “Mocha truffles and chocolate covered espresso beans.”

“Are you calling me a lady?” Komui pouted, reservations mostly forgotten in the face of… chocolate covered espresso beans. He accepted them eagerly and, because he was Komui and not a lady, tucked the truffle box in the crook of his arm with the flowers and immediately tugged the bag of beans open to pop a couple into his mouth.

“…Ooh. These are good. Want one?” He extended the bag toward Reever with a bright smile.

“No, thanks,” Reever declined politely, though he smiled rather brightly at Komui’s enthusiasm for his chocolates. “They’re for you. And don’t eat too many, okay? We have reservations at, um… this place,” he paused to hand Komui the business card, “in a couple hours. I still haven’t figured out what to do after, but maybe we can discuss that at dinner.”

“…French?“

Komui was completely out of hands now, but he looked impossibly pleased and even a little astounded, beaming at Reever warmly.

“Poor Jerry, we’ll hurt his feelings at this rate,” he said with another quiet laugh, turning around to walk over and set his gifts down on his desk. He upended the tall pencil holder and let its contents clatter atop his scattered collection of papers before picking up the flowers again, turning around.

Looking at Reever speculatively, he took one step forward, then another. Slowly he walked up close to the other man, expression faintly nervous again. The smile had faded from his face.

“…Um.”

…. well.

There was… there was really no use thinking about it too hard.

He leaned forward to give Reever a single brief, soft kiss on the lips, smiled at him from up close as he pulled back just a little.

It felt like the right thing to do.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “This should be fun.” And then he turned away to the bathroom to put his flowers in some water.

“Y-you’re w…welcome,” Reever managed to choke out, turning a near luminescent shade of red as Komui thankfully turned away. He scowled at himself and turned away to rub at his cheek with the back of his hand and found it strangely smooth. And warm.

“I’ll. Uh. I’ll go see about borrowing one of the Order’s carriages. The restaurant’s a bit of a walk. I… I think Toma might be convinced to take us there, too. I’ll give him the day off tomorrow or something as thanks. I’ll be back as soon as that’s done to, um, escort you downstairs. That’s what… dates do, right?” he rattled off, still rather nervous-sounding. “Anyway. Okay. Be right back then.”

“Um… okay.” Komui poked his head out of the bathroom again to carry the makeshift vase back over to his desk, now full of the strikingly yellow sunflowers. “I guess… I’ll be waiting?” He smiled a little awkwardly again.

After a quick tour around the floor and a quick shout down to Toma that they were about ready to leave, Reever managed to stop blushing enough to go back and fetch Komui like a proper gentleman.

“Komui!” he called as he knocked on the door once again. “Ready?”

Inside, Komui pulled on a coat and headed over to let himself out.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said good-naturedly, pulling the door closed and bending over to lock it behind him. “So, um…”

He glanced back toward Reever, grinned a little abashedly, and offered his hand.

“Shall we?”

Reever only nodded in response and tried not to blush again, taking Komui’s offered hand. It was going to be a beautiful night.

Dinner went about as well as they could have hoped; a little bit awkward, a lot happy, full of smiles and laughter and pleasant conversation and food whose names Reever couldn’t pronounce. (Komui made his best go, but truthfully his French wasn’t too great either.) They lingered over several courses of appetizers and entrées and dessert; toasted each other’s health over glasses of sparkling grape juice (the waiter had offered them the wine menu first, but Komui had taken one look and gone a shade paler, and Reever, of course, had his own reasons); and then, once their meal was done, nibbled a little on after-dinner bonbons and sipped potent French coffee and attempted to decide where they wanted to go.

“Well…” Komui said eventually, blinking a little in perplexment as he reached for another candy. “The park here is pretty.”

“Well, tonight’s your night,” Reever began with a small, vastly content smile. “The park sounds like a wonderful idea.” Which all sounded very poetic and romantic, but Reever wasn’t without his manly ulterior motives. The park sounded like a lovely place to continue admiring Komui at. And, honestly, he didn’t care where they went as long as the company remained the same.

“I’ll take care of the check and then you lead the way,” he offered, flagging down a waiter to do exactly that. Once their meal was paid for, Reever stood and offered his arm to Komui because he felt the need to act like the gentleman he really wasn’t. He was far too rough around the edges for this sort of thing, far too… Australian. But he wanted to try for Komui, even for one night. He felt Komui deserved at least that much out of him.

Komui just laughed a little as he rose, pulling his coat on, and linked arms with the other man.

A few minutes later found them strolling in an English garden in the moonlight. The park was quiet, ringed around by trees and around those by houses dotted here and there along the street, and Toma and their carriage waited patiently for them by the entrance as they wandered their way inside. The path and the scattered terraces they passed under were lined in blossoms, peonies and hyacinths and all manner of flowers curled up under the moon; most would begin to wilt any day now as the temperature continued to drop and autumn came upon them, but for now they were still alive, pale vibrant spots of color against the darkened greenery of the park. The waxing moon shone down overhead from a clear dark sky, and Komui leaned against Reever’s side a little as they ambled aimlessly down the dirt pathway.

“You know…” Reever mused after a long stretch of comfortable, almost relaxing silence passed between them. “This was a great idea. Maybe Linali does know what’s best for us better than we do. Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to do this more often.” Then he went a little red around the ears and he laughed a bit nervously. “Um. That is. If you’d like to. I know the chocolate-covered espresso beans will eventually stop being worth all this trouble, but… maybe until then.”

An easy smile passed across Komui’s face as they walked along, and he reached over a little for Reever’s hand, idly twining their fingers together. He hadn’t been in this good a mood since Linali woke up, and he knew exactly why it was: spending all this time with Reever doing absolutely nothing, thinking of nothing save making him happy. Making him laugh, watching that cute grin of his, the endearingly embarrassed way he’d had of going about… just about everything they’d done tonight, really. His unruly hair combed into something that vaguely resembled order; impeccably dressed — Komui had never seen him in anything but work clothes before today — fresh-faced and clean-shaven… (Admittedly, Komui missed the stubble a little. But Reever cleaned up handsomely.)

He remembered why he’d been so desperate to hold onto this, before. Even though it could have destroyed the both of them.

And he could have stopped to regret things, and fear things, and worry; but that would completely put a damper on their pleasant evening, and Komui was in far too good a mood to spoil it.

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he said, tugging Reever’s arm downward so he could swing their linked hands a little as they walked. He raised an eyebrow brightly. “I imagine I’ll keep accepting the caffeine as long as you keep bringing it. But you could probably also get me out here without bribing me,” he admitted cheerfully, pausing for a moment as he glanced up.

“Look — you can see the North Star.”

“So you can,” Reever agreed, looking up at the night sky as well. “The view’s even better from Headquarters. I used to get bored and memorize all the constellations. Are the stars pretty in China?” The question slipped out without notice. Tonight had been so peaceful, so healing that Reever had managed to put the three years that had come between them out of his mind completely, and he had always wanted to ask Komui what China was like. The stars in Australia, for example, always glowed from the mist that rose from the surrounding sea.

Komui’s smile twitched slightly.

He slowly wound his other arm around Reever’s so he was hugging it against him a little, and was quiet for a long several moments, staring up at the sky. That place in his chest gave a halfhearted sort of throb.

“…They’re very beautiful,” he murmured after a while.

“Especially out in the country, in the lowlands… you can turn around in a circle and see nothing but stars… going on forever and ever all the way to the horizons.”

“Back home,” Reever whispered into Komui’s ear, still watching the sky with some measure of longing, “the stars’ll right up and take your breath away. You’re right by the sea, right? The waves crash on the shore and send up this mist of water that hovers up in the sky and gives every star a little halo of its own. My ma used to tell me that’s where angels live. I think I might just still believe her.” He tore his gaze away from the stars to watch Komui instead, shifting his arm so that he could slip it around Komui’s waist and hold him.

“That’s your fault, you know.” His voice was soft, almost somber save for the little smile that played upon his lips.

“My fault?” Komui’s murmur matched Reever’s in softness, expression a little perplexed, but full of affection as he slid one of his own arms across Reever’s back, another over his shoulder. Instinctively he leaned closer.

“Mm, your fault,” Reever repeated with a mysterious little smile, pulling away. He caught Komui’s fingertips just as he was about to wander out of reach and pulled him towards a small rise in the ground that could almost be called a hill, beckoning him to sit down. Reever’s arm went right back to its place around Komui’s waist once they were seated, and Reever’s gaze turned back towards the sky. He was still smiling, gaze somewhere faraway.

“You make me believe in good things again, Komui Li,” he finally sighed, then paused, shaking his head. “No, it’s not even that, really. You make me want to believe in the good things again. You make me care about happy endings. You make me want there to be angels in the stars.” His face might have been a little pink just then, but in the darkness it was hard to tell.

A slow, quiet, rather bashful sort of smile spread over Komui’s face, and, gaze drifting toward the grass in front of their feet, he laid his head down for a moment against Reever’s shoulder. Stopped to breathe in his scent.

He’d made Reever believe in bad things, too, he knew. An awful lot of bad things. But… but maybe… the good things made up for all that. At least just a little.

“If you want them hard enough,” he whispered, eyes falling half-lidded, leaning closer to slide up across Reever’s jacket front and twine his arms around the other man’s neck, “I’m sure there’s one waiting up there just to oblige you.”

Then his lips were pressing against Reever’s, and it was right, and natural, and perfect.

Reever’s eyes closed instinctively and his arms wound around Komui’s body as well. He kissed back tenderly, not for anything but because it felt right, because it felt as though in that moment everything was okay because they were where they were supposed to be, doing what they were supposed to be doing. And when the kiss finally came to a reluctant but natural end, Reever smiled a content, slightly delirious little smile and sighed out his breath. He held Komui to his chest, grip momentarily tightening.

“…I love you, Komui.”

Komui laid his head back down on Reever’s shoulder, nuzzled his neck a little, and faintly smiled.

“I love you too,” he murmured.

He didn’t quite know why there were tears pricking the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t really mind.

“H-hey,” Reever stammered when he opened his eyes to find tears about to escape the corners of Komui’s. He quickly brought his hand up and brushed them away with his thumb. “You’re not crying, are you, Komui?” he whispered as he tucked a stray lock of Komui’s hair behind his ear. “Don’t cry. Don’t ever let me give you reason to cry, Komui. I never want to see anything but your perfect smile.”

Helplessly, as though spurred on by Reever’s insistence, the smile on Komui’s face grew wider. He closed his eyes and sunk down a little where he was sitting, sliding his arms down as well, to twine loosely around Reever’s waist. He blinked back another few stray tears.

“People cry when they’re happy, too, you know,” he murmured warmly.

“So that’s what this feeling is,” Reever mused with a quiet little laugh, leaning down to kiss one of Komui’s cheeks, tears and all. “You’ll have to forgive those of us who are a little slow. I’ve never been happy enough to cry before.” Then he let himself fall back against the grass and took Komui with him, staring up at the now-slightly misty stars (or perhaps it was his eyes that were misty), arms still draped over Komui’s shoulders.

Komui watched the stars with him some more for a little while before turning his face against Reever’s chest, nuzzling the other a little with a contented sigh and letting his eyes fall closed again. Resting.

“Well,” he remarked, slowly stretching out his legs to twine around Reever’s, “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“I guess there is,” Reever murmured back, absently stroking Komui’s hair.

“…I want to have them all with you.”

Click the song titles for lyrics (in English).

1. Groove Coverage – Poison
2. Dixie Chicks – Lullaby
3. Moi dix Mois – Forbidden
4. Muse – Time is Running Out
5. Rentrer en Soi – Full Moon
6. Gackt – Fragrance
7. Moi dix Mois – Dialogue Symphonie
8. Abandoned Pools – The Remedy
9. Evanescence – Wash it All Away
10. Bad Religion – Infected
11. Three Days Grace – Never Too Late
12. Within Temptation – What Have You Done
13. Sarah McLachlan – Circle
14. Nicholas Tse – Xie Xie Ni De Ai (Thank You For Your Love)
15. Gackt – Ash
16. Hirai Ken – Aika ~Elegy~

Download: zip / rar

Enjoy!

Not a lot to say this chapter, but we hope you enjoy the extra-long update and I’ll try not to take so long at it next time around, lol. As always, we appreciate your feedback – it’s what really keeps us going!

Ch. 13. Rest and Unrest

“Jerry?” Reever called as he ventured into the kitchen with Komui still in his arms. The cook in question was busily humming to himself, preparing assorted items for a few of the stragglers who came by between meal hours for a bite because of however their schedules were or weren’t working out for them. Now and again he would stop to jot something down. It was a comprehensive list of everything he knew how to make that Komui had liked at the time of his departure.

Currently, Jerry was on his third memo pad.

“I won’t give you any alcohol today, Reever~” he sang without turning around, in the middle of trying to remember if it was shepherd’s pie Komui had liked or shepherd’s fried rice. Which one had it been…? Ah, well. It couldn’t hurt to put them both down. “No matter how much you beg~ I locked the storeroom too, so don’t even try it! Why don’t you come taste this for me inste–” Jerry froze when he realized Reever hadn’t returned alone.

A moment of complete silence and stillness passed, like the eerie calm that came before storms.

Then–

“KOMUI-TAAAAAAAAN~!”

Jerry dropped everything he was doing and positively floated over, wrapping both of his well-toned arms around Reever, sandwiching Komui between them.

“Oh! I’ve missed you so much~! It’s been so lonely in the kitchen with no one to help me pass the slow hours and no one to taste all my new dishes and no one to sit with me through inventory and oh just look at you! You must be skin and bones for Reever to be carrying you like that! He’s not very strong, you know. But don’t tell him I said that–”

“…Jerry,” Reever tried to interrupt, expression something between overwhelmed and slightly irritated. He was right there.

“–anyway, look at you! You have the cutest little face still! Haven’t aged a single day, Komui-tan! Teach me your secrets~! Look at me, I’m getting old and decrepit and you’re as young and spry as always! But you’re such a mess! What’s this in your hair, Komui-tan? Did you forget all the secrets I taught you about taking care of your hair? No worry! I’ll close the kitchen down and show you again if I have to! It’s gotten so long~! I would love to play with it! You’ll let me, won’t you, Komui-tan? Have you eaten? I know I sent that food with Reever but he probably ate it all because he’s been putting on a lot of weight, you know. All that drinking’ll do it too, but he goes on these eating binges and don’t think I haven’t noticed–”

“Jerry!“

“It’s okay, Supervisor Reever. We’ll get R&D right on taking out those seams a little. Then your coat will fit right again, so don’t be rude. I’m talking to Komui-tan–”

“Jerry, I am not getting fat and the coat fits fine, thanks,” Reever grumbled, finally setting Komui down. “We actually did come for a bite to eat, because we got to talking again, and, well… anyway, could you please? He’s about to pass out.”

“Oh why didn’t you say something earlier, Reever?” Jerry pouted. “You just let me ramble like that and we nearly starved poor Komui-tan~! So, then, what’ll it be, boys?”

“…Something that can be ready in the next five minutes?” Komui requested, looking dizzy and more than a little overwhelmed, but smiling nevertheless as he stood there leaning heavily on Reever. “It’s really really good to see you.” And despite everything, it was. Three years later, stepping into Jerry’s kitchen felt absolutely, positively the same.

“And this, um.” He blinked at his bangs for a second, reaching up to bat at some hair speculatively and looking a little sheepish. “Just chalk. I’ll try not to get any on your food.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Jerry accepted graciously. “Because even my culinary genius can’t make chalk dust taste very good, I’m afraid. In five minutes… I will fry you a salmon fillet and steam some fresh vegetables and serve it over fluffy, heavenly, positively decadent rice! All with a light lemon butter herb sauce! Have a seat, you two! The usual crates are still exactly where you left them, I promise, and I’ll cut it off if I see you reaching for any of my cooking alcohol, Reever~!” All of this was spoken in a cheerful, happy voice as Jerry went about finding where he’d left his fresh salmon fillets.

“…want to go sit down?” Reever sighed with a small, slightly terrified shake of his head, nodding to their ‘usual place’. He was still inwardly cringing at the very real threat of Jerry rendering him infertile over a few drinks. Not that he really particularly needed to be able to have children, but he rather liked everything down there as it was.

“Yes, please,” Komui said in a small voice, really not feeling good standing on his feet. It was better once they’d seated themselves, though he continued to lean against Reever’s shoulder as they waited, reaching back one-handed to pull loose the ribbon at the nape of his neck.

“My hair’s all dirty,” he muttered in annoyance, letting the tie flutter into his lap as he tossed some of the dark locks over his shoulder and attempted to wipe at a streak of chalk dust.

“Yeah, well, it happens,” Reever smiled faintly. “Occupational hazard and all. That’s why I don’t have so much hair.” Pursing his lips, Reever took a minute to really look at Komui’s hair, at how much it’d changed. At how exactly it matched the way Linali had always described it to him as a little girl.

“…looks good on you though, Komui. The long hair. Linali always used to tell me about it and I’d wonder. Never thought I’d get to see it for myself, but… it suits you.”

“Um. Thank you.” Komui smiled at him for a second a little bashfully — zhu ren always said so too, but zhu ren made Reever unhappy so he decided not to mention it — glanced away, paused a moment and… then went slightly pink.

“…She did?”

“Yeah. She never really stopped talking about you, actually,” Reever answered with a quiet laugh. “She loved you so much back then. Still does, I’m sure. And I think I… Well, I think I fell for you come day one. All that talk me and Linali had really stuck, I guess. But I forgot about all that for a long time. Mostly because I was me and you were you and…” Trailing off, Reever began to look a little uncomfortable at what he was trying to say and he shook his head. Komui probably wouldn’t really understand right now anyway.

“I wonder how the food’s coming,” he finished instead.

Komui chewed on a thumbnail a little, and leaned his head against Reever’s shoulder.

“Hm. Dunno, but I have a feeling all that is going to take more than five minutes,” he said in a quiet, fond sort of voice, gaze trailing Jerry as the chef bounced back and forth around the kitchen. It felt… comfortable in here, which he was glad for. Familiar and welcoming. It was an incredible relief that Jerry had actually been happy to see him.

“Nah, I think Jerry’ll pull through. He made that whole mess from earlier for you in twenty minutes. I still stand by my theory that he has some sort of cooking-Innocence. Or maybe something like what Miranda has,” Reever contemplated aloud.

“Jerry’s powers are above and beyond Innocence,” Komui mused, looking a little playful. “So mighty that no mere mortal can possibly comprehend them.”

“Did I hear someone say I was mightier than you mere mortals~?” Jerry laughed as he came over with Komui’s food as though on cue. “Someone’s trying to get extra dessert out of me, isn’t he? Well, say no more~ I am more than happy to fatten up those who admit to my saintliness!”

Komui accepted the food smilingly, tying back his hair again as he sat up very carefully. “Thank you! What would we do without you, Jerry-pon?” He proceeded to tuck into the delicious-looking meal without wasting another moment; he was really ready to not feel so dizzy any more.

“Oh~! Komui-tan! Say that again~!” Jerry crooned, clasping his hands together.

Reever had the distinct feeling that if he spent any more time around these two, he was going to get ill.

Komui swallowed a bite of salmon and obliged with a wide smile. “What would we ever do without you, Jerry-pon?”

“Sweet music to my ears~ To hear my Komui-tan call me ‘Jerry-pon’ again! And such glowing praise! No one ever takes the time to admire my genius anymore, Komui-tan!” And then Jerry promptly began to sniff loudly, wiping semi-imaginary tears from his eyes. “It’s been so hard going on without you!”

…make that violently ill. Reever stared a little.

“Clearly you’re not being properly appreciated,” said Komui, nodding sagely. (In between eating, because he wanted to have this conversation without falling over in the middle of it.)

“…I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he offered hesitantly after a moment, with an apologetic smile.

“It’s okay, Komui-tan~! I forgive you because I know you’d never have stayed away so long if you could help it!” Jerry declared. “But if you want to make up for all the heartache you’ve caused me, you’ll simply have to start eating twice as much as you used to for the next three years so that we’re all caught up!”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Komui replied cheerfully, picking up another forkful of rice.

“If you stop fitting in your clothes, I’m not ordering you any new ones,” Reever warned with a slight groan. “You’ll just have to go around naked.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Jerry defended, going to Komui’s side to give him a little half-hug. “The Order should be so privileged as to see my Komui-tan go about naked.”

Though his expression was sheepish, Komui couldn’t help smiling a little as Jerry’s arms were tucked about him.

“Uhh, I’ll do my best not to get fat,” he concluded brightly, scratching his head.

“Well that’s no fun,” Jerry sighed theatrically. “But perhaps something unfortunate could happen to all your–”

“Jerry!“

“Being Supervisor’s gotten to your head, Reever,” Jerry observed with some dismay before he turned to pout at Komui. “He’s all grumpy and important now. You’ll take the job back from him eventually, right? Then we can have you back and maybe he’ll stop acting like we drowned his puppy.”

“U-um–”

Lie to Jerry? Or make him sad? Komui wasn’t sure which one was worst; but he knew which one would make him feel worse.

“I suppose so,” he said with a slightly nervous smile, glancing back down toward his plate.

“Of course you will,” Jerry agreed, planting a very motherly kiss on the side of Komui’s head. “And we’ll have the tailors make you a brand new Supervisor coat because you don’t want the one Reever’s been abusing for the past three years. It probably smells like whiskey and Australian and is all stretched out–”

“I’m not fat!“

“Mmhm, sweetie. Tell that to your mirror.”

By then Reever was too annoyed to put into words and so he simply stared. What was Jerry’s problem? He had pointed out Reever’s little bit of belly that had happened as a result of the heavy drinking, but he’d never really called Reever fat before. Why was he being so mean in front of Komui?

Reever was so busy being irritated that he didn’t even notice how nothing bothered him right then as much as Jerry’s insistence that he was fat.

“I don’t think he’s really fat,” Komui offered mildly, blinking and tilting his head slightly to the side as he examined Reever, appearing to seriously consider the idea. “Well, he does look a little different, but…”

Reever made a little unintelligible noise that sounded not entirely unlike someone strangling a cat.

“…different like how?” he finally managed, sounding rather mortified.

“I don’t know…” Komui frowned a little, glancing off to the side and looking faintly perplexed. “Just, um… less… Reever-like?”

“Less… Reever-like?” Reever echoed, looking down at himself. “How… do I look less like myself? Am I too shaven? Too unshaven? Fat? Old?”

Komui paused for a moment and then shook his head, looking faintly frustrated as he reached up to scratch at his nose.

“….I don’t know. Nevermind. You don’t really look fat, anyway,” he concluded matter-of-factly as he returned to his food.

“Okay,” Reever mumbled dismissively, peering around. “Jerry, do you have a mirror?”

“Of course~ It’s over around those shelves,” Jerry directed, looking rather proud of himself. “Pay extra attention to that beer belly you have going on, Reever!”

Komui shifted in his place as Reever rose, and watched the other man walk off with a slightly perplexed blink.

“I really don’t think he looks bad,” he remarked to Jerry with a faint frown, returning to his food.

“Then I obviously have to break out the old photo albums, Komui-tan~ He looks like life’s been using him as a pinata for the past three years,” Jerry sighed, shaking his head. “He used to be such a gorgeous, cute boy. Now he’s more like a tired old man and he’s not allowed in my territory for, well. Ever. I like being special.”

“…well, besides that,” Komui murmured, glancing downward.

“It’s okay, Komui-tan,” Jerry reassured quietly, patting Komui on the shoulder with a little smile. “Jerry-pon is here now. I’ll fix you all right up through my phenomenal cooking skills and my impeccable fashion sense.”

For a moment, Komui just blinked at him.

“Wasn’t Reever the one that needed the fixing…?”

But, nevertheless… it felt… nice.

To be back here again. Like something else he had been missing for a long time and just never quite realized.

“…It really is good to see you,” he said quietly after a moment, a smile passing shyly across his face.

“Of course it is, honey,” Jerry beamed, reached over to give Komui another hug. “It’s great to see you too. Let me go fix you some sesame balls, okay? My recipe’s gotten better since you last had them.”

Komui glanced down at his plate speculatively for a second. He’d gotten through most of the food already, and he was really feeling quite a bit better…

Quickly taking a couple more bites, he set it down next to him on the storage crate and rose to follow Jerry.

“Since I’m here anyway, I could give you a hand?”

“Well, normally I’d be afraid of you learning my secret recipes, but I think I’ll make an exception for my Komui-tan this time,” Jerry smiled, holding out his hand.

And for the first time in three years, the Order felt like home to Jerry again.

…the Finders would be eating sesame balls for weeks.

- – -

Over the next few days, something began to develop that could tentatively have been described as a routine. Komui, still feeling a little timid about the idea of reuniting with everyone he’d known during his years as Supervisor, largely stayed secluded in his labs and at Linali’s bedside — except when he didn’t; half-formed thoughts took him wandering out through the castle’s back hallways occasionally into places as far-reaching as the little kitchen gardens and the cathedral and even the top parapets, not really looking for… ….well, maybe he was looking for something, he wasn’t entirely sure. There were a couple days where it was a little bit hard — where he would wake up shaking and terrified and not-remembering something and simply huddle under the bedsheets and cry until he could at least hear his own thoughts again; and there were more than a few things he felt like he didn’t really quite understand right anymore; but mostly he felt he was making do well enough. Even if he wasn’t always quite sure he was doing what zhu ren would have wanted. He supposed he could always ask when… when zhu ren got back.

Reever did his best to give Komui his space, partially because Jerry had suggested that was probably the best thing to do and mostly because he was a goddamned coward. Now and again he would find Komui and have a meal with him, mostly in the company of Linali. They spent a lot of that time not speaking, because it was the only way they could ensure that the food would get eaten. Other than that, Reever left Komui to readjust in his own time, though sometimes he would sit in the empty lab next to Komui’s and listen to him work and some nights he would sit against Komui’s bedroom door and stay the night. Most days he went back to his old routine of drinking and working, passing the time. He didn’t even know what he was waiting for anymore, but there was nothing else to do.

Komui, for his part, was trying his best not to think about it.

The first couple days he managed beautifully. There was so much else to think about, so many emotions and things dredged out of mixed-up memory and people he hadn’t seen in ages — it was more than enough distraction. The next couple days after that he thought about it a little bit, but not really enough to be a bother; he had his work at least to occupy him. The next few days after that it was… an itch, almost. Begging to be noticed but if he ignored it long enough, it would subside at least briefly.

By the very end of the week he could hardly think about anything else.

Zhu ren.

Seeing him, being beside him. His voice. His touch on Komui’s skin, his caress petting Komui’s hair, his hand leading Komui along. His lips on Komui’s lips. His presence, so overwhelming it blotted out everything else — the way he knew everything, was everything, held everything inside him– His guidance. His orders. His control.

Where was he? Was he all right? Did he miss Komui? Did he still want to come back? Was Komui doing things the way he wanted? Was he… What was he supposed to do?

Komui stepped into the shower on Sunday morning and all he could think of in that moment was the hazy image of zhu ren with all his clothes on, turning him against the tiles, showing Komui what he wanted.

He collapsed down against the side of the tub with a shuddering intake of breath, the hot water pounding against his hair, hands inching lower down his own body; and didn’t make it out of the shower for a while.

Once he was finished, he climbed out. Somehow remembered to turn the faucet off; sat in the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror for a while, then wandered off absently into his bedroom proper, dripping water over the floor tiles. He hugged his arms around himself as he paced aimlessly.

It wouldn’t go away.

Reever woke up that morning feeling… off. He had days like this sometimes, where he would get out of bed and want to climb right back in because something told him if he did get out of bed, he would come to regret it. He would wake up and feel filled with dread, with a general feeling of anxiety that he couldn’t place or make go away. It made it impossible to think, impossible to work. It made him pace and clench and unclench his hands and wander in circles worrying about nothing, really, but everything in general and, well, how was he supposed to stop worrying when he wasn’t sure what he was worried for in the first place? Before Komui came back, Reever’s cure-all had been to drink until the worry faded, until he was too busy making the words on the paperwork before him come into focus to curl up in his bed and let his worry eat at him until the day somehow managed to disappear completely and suddenly it was night and he was asleep again with tear trails dried to his cheeks.

He’d done that once. He liked the drinking better. His throat hurt less in the morning if he drank instead.

Now that Komui had returned, though, the drinking wasn’t enough anymore. Because working wasn’t enough anymore. He couldn’t even bring himself to care whether or not the day’s work got done because Komui was home and he wasn’t okay and there wasn’t anything Reever could do but–

Feeling cold and restless and anxious, Reever found himself still in his pajamas with his Supervisor coat carelessly draped over his shoulders and out the door of his bedroom, heading for Komui’s room to… sit against the door. Listen. Make sure he was still safe. Make sure he was still there.

Once Reever arrived, though, he stopped just outside the door and frowned, listening. There was an unusual sound coming from Komui’s room. Something that sounded wet, sounded like pacing. Sounded like wet pacing.

“Komui…?” he called out, knocking lightly on the door. Out of all the things that could be wrong, Reever found himself worried that Komui might slip and hurt himself. Old habits, he supposed.

Inside, for a moment, the squelching noises of feet against floor tiles suddenly stopped. Then they began again. Grew a little louder.

“Um… hi…?”

The door creaked open to reveal a dripping-wet, entirely naked, glasses-less and rather vacant-looking Komui, staring at Reever like he was having a hard time making sense of the other man’s presence.

“K–” The words died on Reever’s lips as his eyes widened at Komui’s state of dress. A moment passed before Reever came to his senses enough to glance around and make sure the hall was still empty save for him before he pushed Komui back into his room, closing the door behind them. “Komui, what are you doing? You–” Oh thank God it was me and not, I don’t even know.

“Here,” he sighed, taking off the Supervisor coat to wrap it around Komui. “Is… is everything… are you okay, Komui?”

Komui just blinked for a moment, pulled the coat in a little closer automatically — his coat, he seemed to recall from somewhere — tilted his head to the side and attempted to consider the question.

Zhu ren didn’t like Reever.

He definitely wasn’t dead, he wasn’t hurt, he wasn’t sick, he wasn’t starving or anything… if he thought about it, he was pretty sure he was all right…

Zhu ren might be very unhappy with him.

He was sad because he missed zhu ren. But he shouldn’t… say that to… Reever was… …..why not, again?

“Um… I think so?” he offered, blinking at his bare feet for a second and then nodding. He was… everything was okay. Except zhu ren was gone. Which meant nothing at all was okay. But he couldn’t go to zhu ren and fix it so it had to be okay so it was even if it wasn’t but it definitely probably was.

“You think so?” Reever repeated with a little frown. That wasn’t very convincing. “Komui, why are you walking around naked? Did something happen? Do you… do you need anything?”

“Zhu ren,” Komui’s mouth said before his brain had time to think about it. He chewed on a thumbnail, let his eyes wander up to stare through wet black bangs toward the wall. He really hadn’t meant to say that, Reever didn’t like hearing things about zhu ren, he’d be all upset…

Zhu ren — did zhu ren want him to be around Reever? Would zhu ren tell him to stay away? Would zhu ren tell Komui to stay away? Would zhu ren tell him to hide in the infirmary with Linali until zhu ren came back?

“I, um…” Reever’s questions managed to penetrate his mind a little bit and he glanced down at himself, faintly surprised.

“Oh… I forgot.”

Reever really, really didn’t know how to respond to that. It was so ridiculous he almost wanted to laugh. Komui was a mess because he needed Cross. Or at least he seemed to be convinced so and what could Reever do about that? Hell, what could he even say about that?

“You should… get dressed then.” The words came out as though Reever was on autopilot. It was a practical, Reever-like thing to say. As long as he kept saying practical, calm things, what did it matter that he was curled up somewhere in the back of his head, screaming. As long as he didn’t actually do it, it was all the same to the rest of the world, wasn’t it?

“…Um. You’re right.”

Komui blinked for a second longer and then nodded, stripping the jacket back off; trying to focus his attention on that and not think about zhu ren’s big Order coat draped around him or anything else, and folded up the damp garment very carefully and pressed it into Reever’s arms.

What did he need first? He needed… he was wet. He needed a towel? A comb for his hair.

Zhu ren liked to watch him comb his hair.

The long, wet black locks were sticking to his bare buttocks a little as he turned around to walk back into the bathroom and look for his things.

Reever watched him for a short while after Komui returned the Supervisor jacket before he found himself turning around. He didn’t know why, didn’t realize until just then what strangers they had become. He covered his face with his hand and bit back the swell of emotions. He didn’t much have a use for them anymore. They only got in the way. He bit back the surge of emotions that did nothing for him and did his best not to clutch Komui’s old coat to his chest, did his best not to play that game he always liked to torment himself with. Where the coat still smelled like Komui, still was full of the warmth and strength of — Reever listened to Komui muddle around in the bathroom — someone who simply didn’t exist anymore.

It was only a minute or three before Komui returned to the bedroom, still naked but rather more dry, comb between his teeth and attempting to wring a towel around his hair. He plopped down on the edge of his bed and spat the comb out onto the covers beside him, frowning as he dragged the thick, blacker-than-black rope of wet hair over one shoulder, squeezing at it with the towel a little, before laying that to one side and attempting to begin combing with it. This was an intensive enough task that it distracted him nigh-entirely from Cross for the moment. With hair so long, the tangles wouldn’t come out with a single stroke of the comb; he had to start, go down part way, pull it out, go down part way, and repeat…

…Reever was turned away from him.

“…Reever?” he said in a quizzical tone, slightly bent over to one side with the comb still stuck in his hair.

“Are you dressed yet?” Reever answered after a short pause. It took him a moment to realize he was being spoken to and another moment to remember why he was even here.

He glanced over his shoulder out of habit to find Komui sitting there rather comically, making a mess of his very long hair. He let out a long sigh before making his way to Komui’s dresser and picked out clothes for him out of memory. White pants. White sweater. He picked out underwear at random because he didn’t much want to think about it and didn’t think Komui would care besides. In fact, Reever had the nagging feeling that Komui wouldn’t even care if he was handed girl’s panties. He dropped all of this in Komui’s lap before he held out his hand.

“Comb, please. Before you kill your hair and we have to cut it all off and give Jerry a heart attack.”

Komui blinked at him for a second and frowned slightly, absently reaching up to retrieve the comb.

“I’m not killing it. It just takes a while. And, um.” He glanced down at the clothes in his lap, feeling slightly confused by the other man’s attitude. “Thanks.”

“Well I can hear it screaming in agony so just sit there and try not to move too much,” Reever sighed while shaking his head. Though Reever was mostly helpless and entirely hopeless in most things that were traditionally girls-only, like he could tie a tie in seconds but couldn’t figure out how a bra unlatched for the life of him, brushing hair was at least one thing he could manage. Brushing hair, braiding it, picking out the right shade of scrunchy. He’d had plenty of practice with his sisters and kept his skills up-to-date through Linali. They were getting a little rusty now that Linali was all grown up, but it was like riding a bike, really. Or something. He could still figure out how to get all the tangles out without too much fuss, even with hair as long as Komui’s.

“You should get the ends trimmed,” he observed as he worked the comb through a particularly stubborn knot.

Komui winced a little and tried not to move his head. “Um… maybe so,” he allowed. But zhu ren didn’t want him to cut his hair. But zhu ren made Reever all upset, so maybe he shouldn’t say that. But…

“I’m not supposed to cut it,” he added quietly, hugging the clothes against his chest.

“Not supposed–” Reever cut himself off, stilled, swallowed, and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Ah.”

That made sense, in an entirely Cross way. The man was obsessed with the Komui he had first had all those years ago, after all. In a way, Reever found himself almost identifying with the man. Cross wanted his old Komui back too, but it seemed that only one of them could get their way.

Then Reever banished the thought. Thinking like that almost made him feel like a bad person for wanting Komui to be well-adjusted again. It wasn’t that he wanted Komui to be anyone but who he was. It was just that Reever knew who Komui was and that this wasn’t it.

… at least, he was pretty sure he knew who Komui was.

Maybe.

Reever’s certainty was beginning to fade. It was like the time he’d caught bronchitis as a boy. He’d been so miserable for so long that he hadn’t really remembered what being healthy felt like. Logically he’d understood that at one point, he had been healthy and everything had felt fine. But he hadn’t been able to remember how it felt. He’d known, but that was very different from remembering. He’d only remembered feeling ill, as though he had been born that way.

Logic told him that Komui had once been a happy, well-adjusted person and they had once shared a happy, mostly normal relationship. He knew. His memories were real. He knew they had been that way once.

But he didn’t really remember anymore, what any of it felt like. Perhaps bits and pieces here and there. The kisses, the sex, the sneaking into Komui’s bed, the jokes during work hours. But a relationship wasn’t the sum of its parts. He didn’t really remember what it was like anymore.

So he wasn’t sure anymore. Whether or not he had ever known who Komui Li really was.

“I’m sure… I’m sure your hair will look better with a little trimming, anyway. That’s what matters, right? And it’ll grow back. But,” Reever sighed, eager to no longer be on this subject because it made him want to do something rash and violent just so the frustration of it all would leave him alone, “it was just a suggestion.”

Komui started to nod, but caught himself before he could jostle Reever’s hand.

“It… I’m sure it would.”

He hated making Reever feel bad. He was sure zhu ren wouldn’t want him to go around making people hate him, anyway. He wished he could stop saying stupid things and… and be able to be how Reever wanted him to be a little.

Was that… changing himself? He wasn’t supposed to change. He…

He… was really, awfully, terribly lonely.

…Zhu ren. I’m sorry if I do things wrong. I really can hardly do things right without you anyway.

For a while, he sat there in silence, filling his concentration with Reever, Reever’s hand steadied against his head, the comb running through his hair. The little jabs of pain when he pulled. Komui winced a bit more in places.

“…Thank you,” he murmured at length.

“Don’t mention it,” Reever sighed, tugging the last few knots free. He lowered the comb to his lap and then looked down at it as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his hands now.

“Did you… want me here for anything?” he asked after a long, contemplative silence where his mind didn’t really settle on anything specific at all, just a buzz of half formed thoughts as he blindly groped for something to say or something to do and came up blank. He barely even knew where he stood anymore, and really, at this point he was rather ashamed to admit that the memory of his seven-year-old sister had more guts than him. He was so terrified of doing something wrong, of screwing up what little remained of what he had with Komui. If that was even anything at all. Reever just didn’t know, and as a scientist very little bothered him more than not knowing something.

Some days he woke up wishing that Komui would just leave him once and for all so that he could stop being scared of everything, stop being terrified of not knowing, stop being frustrated and helpless and useless and–

Those were the days Reever didn’t get out of bed.

“If not,” he forced out, wrapping his hand around the comb. The teeth dug into his palm. “If not… I should go to work.”

Komui’s head shot up for a moment; he looked at Reever with something resembling surprise, which faded into a slightly sad expression as his gaze turned downward again.

“I– … I guess not. But no, really, um. Thank you.”

He tucked some of his bangs behind his ear, shifted his grip on the clothes sitting in his lap.

“It’s easier to… to think when you’re around.”

Reever blinked in surprise, then stared at Komui for a moment as the words settled in. He studied Komui’s expression, trying to decipher it.

“…you can come with?” he finally offered a bit tiredly. He smiled encouragingly. “It’ll be like old times. You can sit there and I’ll sign everything.”

“You… don’t mind?” Komui murmured, glancing up at the other man very uncertainly. All he ever seemed to do was make Reever upset, and yet…

“I could use the company,” Reever reassured. “But!” He set the comb down and stood, folding his arms over his chest.

“One condition. You can’t come with unless you get dressed first, because while I don’t mind all that much, Johnny might be offended when he comes to bring me more paperwork. Or else scarred for life. I’d really rather not test that theory.”

Komui blinked at him for a second, and then helplessly smiled.

“Well, that would never do.”

Having thus spoken, he scooted away a little to rise from the bed, going for his glasses before setting down his clothes and shaking them out piece by piece to put on.

Reever waited patiently, mostly staring at his hands, the fact he was wearing just pajama pants and an undershirt, at his rather soft belly. Hm. Jerry had a point, now that he looked at it more closely. He prodded his stomach with a finger with some displeasure. Maybe he could figure out how to sign papers while jogging. Or doing sit-ups. Maybe he could mount a clipboard to the wall and sign a paper on each ‘up’. Hm. He would have to look into that.

By the time he was done pondering that, he glanced up to see how Komui was doing.

“Ready to go?”

“Yes! But… where are my shoes…” Komui mumbled to himself, ducking his head upside down off the side of the bed to glance underneath. No such luck. He sat back up again and gave the room a last once-over, but the shoes were nowhere to be seen; frowning a little, he walked over to grab something out of the wardrobe. The first things his fingers happened upon were a familiar pair of black and white checked slippers.

Ah, well, these were probably more comfortable anyway. After three years of constant traveling, he just hadn’t quite gotten used to not living out of his luggage yet.

“The way we’re dressed, we should just go back to bed,” Reever mused rather fondly. “Alright, let’s go then. If we get done early, we can… I don’t know. What do people do for fun these days?” He glanced over at Komui and then found himself grinning in a slightly sad sort of way.

“You wouldn’t know either, huh? That’s okay. I bet you that’s the one thing our department couldn’t come up with if they were given a month’s time to research it. If we get done early I’ll call Rabi and see if he hasn’t studied enough human nature to know what those bizarre normal people do for fun.”

A small smile tugged at Komui’s lips as he grabbed a hair tie off the top of his desk and shoved it in his pocket for later, heading in the direction of the door. “When do we ever get done early?”

He was trying not to let his brain circle back to zhu ren again for a little while or he might not be able to stop; so it didn’t quite occur to him just how nice it was to be thinking about something else.

…and he just hoped there weren’t too many people in and out of the office today. At least it was a Sunday…

- – -

“Okay, so, let’s make a system,” Reever announced once they were inside the Supervisor’s office. The spotless, everything-in-its-place, floor-polished-until-it-looked-like-a-mirror, not-a-speck-of-dust-anywhere Supervisor’s office that smelled something like a cross between a pub and lemon Pine-Sol. There was a new mahogany desk where the old one had once sat, a new leather couch with a little blanket and cushion resting on one end, and half the bookshelves seemed to have been replaced. A half-empty bottle of whiskey was sitting on the floor next to the desk. Reever went over and stuck it in a drawer before continuing.

“You can date everything and sort them into piles and I’ll read and sign them,” he suggested, looking over the day’s inbox. “How’s that sound?”

“Um… I can do that…”

Komui, however, had stopped short in the doorway, gaping openly at the condition the room was in. He had absolutely no trouble remembering that this was not at all how he had left it.

“…this is the right office, right?” he said with a blink, just to make sure. Three years… really was a long time.

“Uh, yeah,” Reever answered rather sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s really different, I know. I just…” Missed you so badly. Couldn’t look at the desk or the walls or the couch. Didn’t know what to do.

“…thought a change of pace might help,” he finished awkwardly with a helpless little shrug. He looked at Komui rather nervously, tugging at the hem of his own shirt. “Do you, uh… is it okay? Is it too much? We can go through the catalogs again, if you want. I mean, the desk is kind of much, isn’t it? And, well, the couch is really comfortable but if you don’t like it– We could throw papers all over the floor?”

“Um, well–”

And just like that, Komui was in a wonderful mood.

“It’s been your office for three whole years, you had every right to change it around,” he said, stifling a very small laugh as he walked over to the inbox to grab some of the papers on the top, then headed in the direction of the leather couch. “And it does look like a very nice couch… and yes, is a very nice couch,” he decided speculatively as he plopped down on it, setting the forms beside him.

“Oh wait, I didn’t get a pen…”

“Here, I feel like annoying the Head Generals today,” Reever grinned, handing Komui a pen he had invented during one drunken night or another. He didn’t even remember inventing it. He’d just woken up one morning drooling on the blueprints. It wrote in luminescent pink. Gabby would have loved it.

“I’m glad you approve of the couch, though. Desk is nice too. If you spill anything or whatever, it’s got this neat glass top that you just wipe off,” Reever introduced, giving the desk an affectionate pat. “And when I get bored I make face prints on it.” Komui’s good mood was rather contagious.

“Face prints?” Komui peered at the desk very speculatively for a moment, then glanced up at Reever’s face with a raised brow, as though trying to imagine just how such an idea would work. “They don’t just look like giant blobs? Or is that the fun of it?” He smiled a little again as he glanced down toward the paperwork sitting next to him. Date and sort into piles, Reever had asked… Surely he’d be fine. It wasn’t like there was much to screw up here.

But somehow it did feel weird to be working on paperwork in the Supervisor’s office again.

“Well, usually you can make out the mouth and the nose and the voids where the eyes are. It’s pretty cool. You’re free to try but I’m kind of afraid that might be the sort of thing that’s only amusing when you’re either under five years of age or intoxicated,” Reever explained rather sheepishly.

“That’s okay. But I wouldn’t mind watching you do it sometime,” Komui informed him, biting his lip and fighting an automatic grin. He glanced down at the paper in his hand, jotted the date in the corner — what a fascinating color of ink — briefly scanned the contents and tossed it down into what would be the first pile, on the floor next to his feet.

Hm. Reever even kept up with his paperwork every day. He was much more responsible than Komui had ever been.

If Reever had been able to hear the other’s thoughts, however, he would have protested that his seeming organization was all a lie. The paperwork got done between inventing pens that did nothing but hurt the Head Generals’ and Mission Ops’ eyes, making face-prints on his exceptionally expensive desk, and bouts of drinking or depression or delinquency or all of the above, which really was no more effective a system than what Komui had once had in place; but then again, the former Supervisor didn’t really have a way of knowing that. Or caring, with the number Cross had done on his sense of self-worth.

“I’ll call you the very next time I’m drunk,” Reever laughed quietly with a shake of his head. “Bit embarrassing thing to do when I’m not, I’m afraid. You can tell which ones are mine, though. Mine have stubble. It’s very impressive.”

“And definitely very distinctive,” Komui agreed with a little laugh, picking up the next piece of paperwork.

Just sorting through all the papers proved to be a blessedly mindless task; not so hard that there was any reason to worry, but demanding just enough of his concentration to keep his thoughts firmly in the here and now as he went about the work he’d been set to. When at last there were three or four little piles of forms sitting on the floor around his feet, and none left on the couch next to him, Komui rose to begin plopping them on Reever’s desk in anticipation of continuing with the next batch out of the inbox.

“I guess you can start looking through these if you want,” he told Reever, glancing back toward the once-again clean floor with a faintly mournful expression.

“Go for it,” Reever answered with more than a slight hint of utter shock. Komui was on task. Consistently. It almost made Reever want to phone the Noahs and ask how that impending apocalypse was coming along. “At this rate we’re actually going to finish early, Komui. Then the world will grind to a halt as God has to sort out what to do with us because us finishing early was never part of His plan.”

“…maybe I should go slower,” Komui murmured to himself, glancing uncertainly at the volume in the inbox. He didn’t relish the thought of running out of things to do and inevitably letting his mind wander. Zhu ren was–

–Maybe– ….maybe he should go do something in the lab later.

“Slower? Come on, Komui. The world won’t end if we finish early, I swear. I might have a heart attack and die and that’ll technically be the end of the world for me, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Reever teased. Then he noted the expression on Komui’s face and his mood sobered a little.

“If we finish early, I’ll show you how to make face prints, okay?” he offered with a little smile. “And then we can sneak down to R&D and tell them we need an emergency shipment of brightly colored pens. I’ve been working on a way to make them scented with Jerry. You can help us hash out the last few details.”

Komui smiled again, just a little bit, as he picked up another bunch of papers, plopping down to lean against the desk nearer Reever in lieu of returning to the couch. “You’ll have to let me have a look at the chemical makeup of this stuff… That’s not ink in there, is it?” he speculated with one eyebrow raised, shaking the pen around a little in front of his face.

“Not really. It’s pigment suspended in water-based gel. I thought my findings were frivolous at first, but it turns out they actually have some scientific value. If I wanted to write ransom notes, for example. My gel pens, in addition to being brightly colored and hard on the eyes, are very consistent and would be hard to trace if I wasn’t the only one to currently own them,” Reever reported sagely. “But in the future, kidnappers everywhere will thank me. Or something. I don’t know. Anyway, it’s iron oxide pigments and biopolymers. I don’t actually remember how I came up with this. I had a three day blackout and here we are. Gel pens.”

Komui frowned a little at the pen for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked it anymore.

“Well, it’s clever,” he said with as encouraging a smile as he could manage, gaze turning downward as he started to go back to the paperwork.

“Yeah, for all I know Jerry came in and wrote the whole thing for me but it at least looks like my… drunken scrawl,” Reever finished with a frown, looking over Komui. “…did I say something, Boss?”

Komui blinked at him for a second. Considered it. Glanced away very slowly, uncomfortable, and shook his head. He didn’t want to make Reever all upset again. He plopped a finished form onto the floor next to him, picking up the next off the pile without saying anything at all.

Reever had already felt the strange suspicion that something was wrong, and now he felt for certain that something was wrong.

“Komui?” he asked again. Then he rose and crouched down next to where Komui was, putting his hand on top of the pile of papers so that Komui couldn’t take any more. “Komui, what’s wrong?”

Komui glanced up at him through dark bangs with a rather apprehensive expression.

“…Um. Nothing. Really,” he murmured, meekly, eyes turning uncomfortably back down after a moment to the form he’d picked up. He scribbled the date over the top automatically.

“Just… don’t… poison yourself or anything…” he mumbled, voice growing a bit smaller with each word. Reever was going to be upset. “If… you don’t mind.”

There was a long, long silence on Reever’s end. It took him a little bit to really understand what Komui was saying, to connect that Komui had become upset because… of the drinking. That Reever was missing entire blocks of time because he had been too drunk to remember, up to days at a time. It took Reever a moment to realize this because it had happened so many times and he was still alive and dragging himself through the days that it didn’t worry him at all anymore. It wasn’t even remotely scary as it had been the first time it had happened, when he’d hit the bottle in his office on a Wednesday and woken up outside some time Friday night without any idea what he had done all of Thursday.

It took him even longer to come up with something to say to Komui. The way Komui worded his concerns, almost… as though he was afraid. It was far from the yelling matches he had with Jerry, and it was completely unlike the sort of thing the old Komui would have said to him. It made his heart ache, made him feel like a terrible, pathetic excuse of a person. He sighed, quietly, and moved his hand to Komui’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Komui,” he reassured. “I only drank a lot because… because I missed you, and the drinking helped. It’d be silly of me to miss you when you’re right here, right?” He hesitated, then leaned down and kissed Komui very lightly on the forehead.

“I won’t drink so much anymore, I promise.”

Komui just looked at him for a moment, unreadably, then nodded; his answering smile a little strained but nonetheless relieved.

“That’s, um…”

He hesitated for a second.

He probably shouldn’t— think about this too hard or–

Before he could change his mind, he leaned forward to express his gratitude with a return peck on the cheek. One tiny fleeting press of his lips against Reever’s scratchy jaw; barely an instant had passed before he looked away, eyes determinedly downcast as he started to tug another paper out from under the other man’s hand.

He probably shouldn’t have done that, but — but it seemed like the right thing to do if— he didn’t think about it too hard.

If. Well.

Never mind. There was tomorrow to think about that.

“…Thank you…” he mumbled. “We should… finish these up.”

Reever’s hand lifted from the papers to gingerly touch the place Komui’s lips had just been. His cheeks grew the slightest bit flushed as he nodded, not entirely certain of the question but sure that he was probably supposed to be agreeing. Most likely. Oh, right. Work. Finishing it. Yeah. Same old story.

“Um, yeah, I suppose so,” he agreed, turning back for his desk. And because his mind refused to stop cycling through the same few thoughts of ‘Komui kissed me’, ‘Komui kissed me’, ‘Komui kissed me‘, ‘Komui kissed me’ and other such completely useless variations, he finished his own work in complete silence. However, once all the papers were sorted, dated, and signed (save for the one he shoved into his drawer for tomorrow, just in case the world actually did end in the event they finished a day’s work on time) there was no more putting off having to think about things that did not have to do with Komui, him, and kissing.

“Well, Komui,” he finally managed, looking around feeling rather awkward. “It’s… well. Hm. We’re done for today. Anything you want to do besides watch me shove my face against this glass?”

“Umm…”

Komui tugged on a lock of hair as he glanced back, and smiled again, a little apologetically.

“…maybe we could go see Linali?”

“Oh, sure!” Reever nodded. It had been a while since he had last seen her anyway. No change in her condition, so there really hadn’t been a pressing need, and, well. Lately Reever had been useless at even knowing what to do with himself. But now that Komui mentioned it, it seemed like a great idea to visit Linali. Hopefully she could be encouraged to wake up sooner.

“Want to grab some snacks to bring with us? We can sit with her awhile.”

Komui nodded once, rising and rummaging around in his pocket for the hair tie he’d brought earlier. He tossed his long hair behind his shoulders and quickly bound it up at the nape of his neck.

“Assuming Jerry doesn’t kidnap us the rest of the day, anyway,” he said quietly, still smiling a bit. It seemed like he got mothered to death every time he went in there. Which… wasn’t a bad thing, maybe.

“We’ll tell him we’re going to see Linali,” Reever answered with a smile of his own. “He won’t be able to sweep us back out fast enough.”

- – -

Half an hour or so later the boys were signing in to visit Linali, a basket of God-knows-what held between them. Jerry had put it together, shoved it into their arms, and ushered them back out before they’d even had a chance to check its contents. Ah, well, knowing Jerry it would be a nice surprise. And Reever distinctly smelled coffee. That would make Komui happy.

“Linali~” Reever called lightly as they let themselves in, knocking on the wall out of habit. “I brought your brother to visit you. Don’t worry, you don’t have to rush waking up yet. He hasn’t been making any giant robots lately, promise.”

Pulling over a couple chairs, Komui settled himself in at Linali’s bedside, bending to plant a kiss on her cheek and stroke her hair for a moment before actually sitting down.

“Must be boring,” he greeted her in Chinese, smiling softly. “We’ll do our best to entertain you for a while.“

That said, he glanced toward Reever and the basket, which Reever had taken possession of. “I believe I detect the scent of coffee in there?” he observed cheerily.

“Yes, and don’t promise her that, Komui. We have no idea what ‘entertainment’ for Linali could be. It could mean you must wear wedding dress, you know,” Reever answered just as brightly, unpacking some cookies and other assorted pastries in addition to a large canister of hot coffee. He poured them each a mug and offered one out to Komui.

Komui couldn’t decide whether to be horrified by the idea or overjoyed by the coffee, so he settled for a little of both, grimacing as he held the mug to his lips. “Don’t say things like that or they might come true,” he lamented before moving to take a long sip. He sighed happily and paused a moment before continuing.

“Someday I’ll convince you I’m actually a boy,” he insisted, glancing back in Linali’s direction with just a little bit of a pout.

“And that’ll be the day she dashes your dreams by letting you in on the secret that she really doesn’t care,” Reever laughed back, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Komui. You just look better in a dress than the rest of us. And I’m going to pretend I’m not speaking out of experience.”

“Well, how would you know? You’ve never seen me in a dress. And you never will,” Komui stated fervently, in full pout mode now over his cup of coffee. “In the event that I have a wedding day I intend to go to it wearing pants like any other normal human being. Ah, being pretty is a curse,” he lamented with a sigh, reaching for one of Jerry’s cookies.

“You say that now,” Reever began in a cautionary tone, “but wait until that wedding rolls around and Linali starts sniffing that she didn’t get to go dress shopping with you and her eyes get all big and watery… you’ll give. I’d put a betting pool on it but no one would want to bet against me. Because they would lose. And I know because I’ve seen me in a dress and it’s a sight that would make angels renounce God. So just take my word for it. You look better than me in a dress. And I don’t even want to test Tapp or Johnny or any of the other lab boys. Let’s just take the rest of it on faith, okay?”

The rather disgruntled look on Komui’s face could mean only one thing: He knew everybody would lose that bet too. He sighed a little as he munched on his cookie.

“I guess, if you went ahead and woke up, I would maybe think about possibly someday letting you put me in that dress at some point before I die. If it would make you happy,” he pouted at Linali.

Somehow this day had ended up much, much better than it had begun. So much so that he was trying to just not think about anything and simply go with the flow, in the hopes of not screwing it all up.

…but he still missed zhu ren.

“Bah, she knows she doesn’t have to wake up to that,” Reever chided, sifting around the basket to find a chocolate chip cookie. “You’ll do it for her anyway, because–”

When he looked back up, cookie in hand, he suddenly stopped speaking.

Linali’s eyes were squeezed shut, her lips slightly parted. She let out a quiet little groan before she finally opened her eyes briefly before she closed them. She tried again, squinting against the light.

“…ge ge?” she asked softly, reaching up to try to find him. Her hand was unsteady. Then she saw him sitting beside her and smiled, letting her eyes shut once more.

“Ge ge,” she murmured, “I wasn’t scared, ge ge. I knew you would be here when I woke up again.”

He had been planning on not crying, but… his cheeks were wet.

Komui knelt beside her and slid an arm underneath her head, relief flooding him in overwhelming waves as he cradled her against his side carefully, gingerly, genuinely afraid to break her.

“…Linali.”

He couldn’t talk very well. Couldn’t think very well again all of a sudden, for the relief and the worry and the fear for the future all crowding around inside his head. But as he curled up there right then, with his cheek pressed against her hair, stroking it softly — right at that particular moment, there was no one else in the world but Linali.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly.

And then she was crying too, laughing as she shakily wiped at her tears. She slid her arms around him as well and held on as tightly as she could, still crying and laughing and it made her so very sore to do so but she didn’t want to stop.

“Welcome home,” she answered tearfully, burying her face into his chest.

The door quietly closed behind Reever. It really wasn’t his place, wasn’t the sort of thing an outsider like him should watch. How he envied them, though. How happy he was for them. Idly, he hooked his fingers under his remaining bracelet and toyed with it as he walked away.

What did people do when they ran out of work and places to be?

- – -

It was lucky that Komui didn’t really have any other place he needed to be at the moment, because for the next week, as far as he could manage it, he was hardly ever separated from Linali. Unfortunately, now that she was awake, the doctors and nurses tended to come in and check on her much more frequently and would shoo him out in the evenings, so he couldn’t sleep overnight in her room; he’d also find himself booted out around lunchtime and whenever they thought he was just exhausting her too much. But he kept sneaking back in, because he just needed to see her, and he didn’t want to leave her all alone in there. When she wasn’t resting they would pass the time talking of all sorts of things — how the Headquarters was doing; funny things that happened while Komui was gone; and when he could think of something he could bear sharing, tales of Komui’s years in China.

But because of prying ears and eyes (Linali’s Exorcist friends would drop by now and again to see how she was recovering; even Kanda hadn’t managed to completely stay away) they didn’t really get to talking until Linali was discharged to finish recovering in the comfort of her own room. Jerry actually took the entire day prior off from cooking to get her room spotless for her again, dusting and shuffling things around and filling it with flower arrangements. The rest of the Order nearly starved, but that aside Linali had a smooth transition from her hospital room back to her own quarters.

“Ge ge~” she called once she was settled back in her own bed, propped up against the headboard with lots and lots of pillows. (She was fairly certain that Allen had stolen all of them for her from the rooms of the rest of their friends as one of them had Kanda’s initials written on the inside of the pillowcase, another seemed to have been ripped open and stitched shut again, and yet another smelled entirely of oranges, but… it was kind of touching.) “Come sit here,” she beckoned, patting the space next to her, “and bring me a brush and some hair ties, won’t you?”

“Oh, I suppose,” came the answer from ouside her bedroom door, and Komui walked in a moment later brandishing the requested items (the truth was he’d brought them along in anticipation of just such an event). “We can’t leave my poor hair in peace?” he said with a wide smile as he plopped down next to her, laying the brush and dark-colored ties down in her lap and reaching up to undo the one currently tied at the nape of his neck.

He’d been doing his best for Linali; trying his hardest to be the big brother she remembered no matter when. She had never known about Komui and Cr — zhu ren’s bargain, and she never needed to know, and he never wanted her to know. She didn’t need to know what had passed between them over those three years, how he’d come back changed. What she needed was her beloved ge ge, and he wanted to give her that with everything in him. So he tried not to let anything get to him; even tried to — not put zhu ren away, but, just a little bit, tried to remember what he had been like without zhu ren. It made his head hurt and he shook a little at night when he curled up in bed by himself, but… he was trying. And, he thought, hopefully doing okay.

“Of course not! Because our family has the prettiest hair and I love playing with it, but I don’t have very much of my own anymore so you just have to share yours,” Linali answered in a matter-of-fact voice. “Because you’re my big brother and that means you have to share everything with me.” There was a pause as Linali seemed to ponder something, turning the hair brush slowly in her hand.

“If I don’t find a boyfriend in the next few years, we should just have a baby, ge ge,” she mused lightly with a smile. “It would have terribly pretty hair and I could play with it all I wanted.”

Komui choked a little.

“Uhh… much as I’d enjoy the looks on everyone’s faces when they found out you were bearing my child, I have a feeling that would be a bad idea,” he said with a laugh, grinning at her abashedly. “You’ll just have to settle for my hair instead.”

“You know, I think I’d like to see that too,” Linali giggled, beaming up at Komui. “We should tell them anyway. But. I suppose it would be kind of strange.” She let out a little sigh at that, tapping her finger against her lips.

“I suppose… Kanda’s hair is almost as pretty as ours.”

“You can’t have a baby with Kanda. He’d be awful to you.” Komui pouted at her. “But… I suppose if you wanted to play with Kanda’s hair…” he mused, attempting a thoughtful look that was entirely disrupted by his grin.

“Oh, no, don’t cut his hair off,” Linali scolded. “He doesn’t have very much to live for to begin with. Take away his vanity and he might actually kill himself. And I suppose if he doesn’t meet your approval either…” She reached up and started brushing Komui’s hair, thinking very hard on who else in the Order had gorgeous hair. No one else really came to mind. “Well, I’ll just have to keep looking. Oh, if only Bak didn’t work for the East Asian Branch.”

“You definitely can’t have a baby with Bak!” Komui exclaimed, looking scandalized. Bak Chan was mostly a good guy, sure, and a competent member of the Order. But he was definitely suspicious. He had… designs on Linali, Komui was sure of it. Maybe he couldn’t prove it, but having no proof had never stopped him from going on any giant robot rampages before.

“Why not?” Linali asked out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t know her brother had anything against Bak. Actually, she hadn’t even known they knew each other that well, but she should have figured. She busily put up one side of Komui’s hair in a pigtail in the meantime.

“Because he… he… wants to… take…” Komui twitched a little. “Unacceptable liberties with you.” Yes, he was imagining the robot right now and it would be glorious…

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Linali asked innocently, trying not to break out into laughter. “I mean, if I want to have a baby with him, what could possibly be considered an ‘unacceptable’ liberty? It’s even better if my husband-to-be is willing! Then I can save the chloroform for when I eventually kidnap you and Reever-ge ge for a proper day off.”

Komui choked a little.

“That — you — Linaliiii,” he moaned, turning around momentarily to pout outrageously at her. “You’re going to give poor little old me a heart attack at this rate and then won’t you be sorry. He’s not allowed to even think about making any babies with you until your wedding night, and you should definitely pick someone you don’t need to kidnap, so there.” He didn’t comment about the part involving him and Reever. He didn’t even know what to say, anyway.

“Well, fine,” Linali sighed. “I’ll keep looking but I might end up alone forever and it’ll be all your fault, ge ge. Because I’ll have to look for someone who’s as good to me as you are, and that just might be impossible. It means I’ll need more chloroform if I want to take you and Reever-ge ge out.” She paused long enough to finish brushing out Komui’s new pigtail, moving on to braiding it because she felt like giving him bunny ears.

“How are you two doing, anyway? He’s missed you a lot.” A little bit of guilt found its way into her voice then.

“Um…”

Thinking about Reever like that was still… He… He wasn’t sure how he felt about it all yet. Reever was — was important and that much he was sure of, but he — zhu ren–

He couldn’t think about it all too much because the hole in his chest that he’d started trying to ignore, for sanity’s sake — it ached so much and he just…

“We’re doing okay, I think,” Komui somehow managed to say without really knowing what he was saying at all, smiling awkwardly. “It’s been a little stressful since I got back, but I’m sure it’ll even out just fine.”

“That’s good,” Linali accepted after a little pause, though she frowned and drew her hands away from his hair. “Are… you sure, ge ge? You don’t… sound very sure. You know you can tell me anything, right? I know we’re older now and our secrets are bigger but… you never let me face anything alone so you shouldn’t have to either, ge ge.” She slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze.

“It’s been a long time, but that hasn’t changed. It’ll never change,” she promised quietly.

Komui gripped her hand, and didn’t turn around to meet her gaze until he felt sure he’d wiped all the sadness out of his smile.

“I love you, Li Li,” he murmured as he looked back again, leaning over to softly kiss her cheek.

“I love you too, ge ge,” Linali answered without pause, because it came to her without even needing to think about it. Because it was such a basic truth, a fact of life. The grass was green, the sky was blue, snow was cold, and she loved her brother more than the whole world. She leaned her head against his shoulder, pulling his hand into her lap to clasp her other hand over it.

“I just want you to be happy,” she added quietly. “I want you to be as happy as you’ve always made me.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Komui said softly in reply, a more genuine smile passing across his face as he leaned his forehead down a little against her hair.

“I am happy.”

Right now, at least, for this particular moment, he was sure he was telling the truth.

“Well I want you to stay happy,” Linali sighed. “I want you to be able to be happy even when I’m not here. Though…” Her expression fell slightly as she looked down at her legs and shook her head.

“…at least that won’t be a problem for a while.”

Komui wrapped an arm around her waist, squeezing reassuringly.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that either, hmm? I’m sure it’s frustrating right now, but you’ll be up and running again before you know it, you just watch.” Of course, no one really knew what would be the final result of her Innocence’s very unusual behavior. But it was still whole and she still had it with her, that was the important part. Innocence looked after its own. Komui couldn’t imagine his sister’s ever deserting her.

“And in the meantime, I am your doting servant.” He smiled at her, feeling rather glad to get away from the subject of himself and his own troubles. “Of course, we didn’t really need a special occasion, I’d be happy to wait on you in bed anytime.”

“Anything to get away from work, huh?” Linali teased quietly, giving him a content, affectionate nuzzle. “But that’s okay. We both need a break. We should just stay here all day.” She fell silent for a little while, just listening to the steady beat of her brother’s heart.

“…you seem tired, ge ge,” she whispered after the silence had settled in. “Tired like you were the last time I didn’t see you for three years, but much, much more tired. Reever-ge ge hasn’t visited me once since I woke up. Does everyone else know something I don’t, ge ge?”

Komui sighed faintly, and couldn’t help but smile a little once more because, well… she was his sister. He should have known a girl as shrewd as Linali would see right through him.

“Well, it was a long trip,” he murmured, because he could hardly say anything else. “Three years of almost nothing but traveling. I think anybody would be tired.”

“…not that kind of tired, ge ge,” Linali sighed softly, closing her hand around a little fold in the fabric Komui’s shirt. She didn’t say anything more because she knew that he knew she hadn’t meant that kind of tired. If he didn’t want to tell her, she wouldn’t make him. Komui would never hide anything from her without good reason. She trusted him.

Komui’s grip slackened against her, just a little, as he briefly glanced away.

“I’m okay,” he murmured quietly, because that was what she needed to hear. Turned back around to kiss the top of her head. “I promise.”

It wouldn’t do you any good to know, Linali. It would only bring you pain.

But he wished he could explain… something.

“And Reever… well, I’ll talk to him. I’m sure he’ll come see you soon,” Komui offered, shifting in his place, desperately hoping she would forget this whole subject for good. He didn’t… he didn’t even know what to say.

“No, that’s okay,” Linali whispered, shaking her head. “He probably doesn’t want to see me.” Her voice caught a little and she drew in a deep breath, grip on Komui’s shirt tightening.

“I’m sorry, ge ge,” she apologized, sounding as though about to cry. “I did a terrible job of looking after him.”

“Funny,” Komui murmured, drawing his other arm around her and beginning to gently stroke her back, “he said exactly the same thing about you.”

He smiled faintly, a little sadly, as he held Linali close. “I think he… just feels bad, probably.”

“He shouldn’t… feel bad,” Linali managed, holding Komui more tightly in return. “I did this to myself because I was only making him more miserable here. I always went straight to Mission Ops, so I never even gave him the chance to stop me. I shouldn’t have given up so easily, I just…” She sighed again, closing her eyes.

“…he shouldn’t blame himself. It’s not anyone’s fault, and I’m okay. And you came back. So…”

“Exactly. So I’ll talk to him. And drag him down here,” Komui concluded with a small smile, squeezing her a little tighter for just a moment. “I’m sure it’ll work out fine.” He might not be sure what the hell to do about Reever and himself, but Reever and Linali, at least, was an easy fix. At least he hoped so. It wasn’t like he was any good with people, but as long as he just dragged them back together and didn’t put in too much of a hand otherwise, he probably couldn’t screw anything up.

“Is there anything you can’t fix?” Linali asked quietly, though she was smiling against his chest now. Her voice held all the wonder of a little girl who knew she had an invincible brother who could cure everything from her stuffy nose to her broken doll to all the problems of the world. “…besides your designs for Komurin, of course.”

…lots and lots of things. So many I can hardly bear it.

But that wasn’t what big brothers said to their little sisters.

“Of course not,” he declared impishly, giving the top of her head a gentle poke. “I could even make the Earth rotate backward if I wanted to.”

“Really?” Linali gasped in pretend-wonderment. She peered up at him to smile. “Well, for now I’ll settle for your company and cuddling and maybe tomorrow you can make the Earth rotate backwards for me.”

“I think I can fit that into my schedule,” Komui said, smiling. For a moment he paused, blinking as one pigtail happened to swing into his vision.

“By the way… are you done with my hair?” he wondered with a quiet laugh.

“Of course not,” Linali answered quickly, sitting up again. “I’m going to give you bunny ears and you have to wear them the whole day.”

“Ack– Linaliiiii,” he pouted in response, nevertheless shifting obligingly so she could easily get back to playing with his hair. “I am actually a boy, you know.”

“I know that, ge ge!” Linali replied in a very exasperated voice. “But you keep saying that like it matters. Boys look pretty with bunny ears too!”

“I just can’t win, can I?” he sighed mournfully, sitting back a little so she could reach him better. Another contented smile flitted across his lips.

Not like he really wanted to.

Linali finished braiding his hair fairly quickly, then happily tied the ends of the braids to the tops to give Komui little floppy bunny ears. She held the ‘ears’ by the ends and toyed with them a bit, making them wiggle this way and that.

“Awwww~ These look even better on you than they did me,” she gushed before she wrapped her arms around Komui for another hug. Then she sat back and pushed him lightly, nodding to the door.

“I think now would be a very good time to go find Reever-ge ge.”

“Ergh–”

Komui grimaced a little bit and then reached up to scratch at his nose, smiling a helpless, embarrassed sort of smile.

“I guess if you insist… Maybe he’ll be so busy laughing he’ll forget to feel bad,” Komui speculated sheepishly, scooting a little closer to the edge of the bed as though making to rise.

“You happen to be very pretty right now,” Linali sniffed indignantly. “And anyone who says otherwise will just have to answer to my Dark Boots as soon as I’m better.”

“If you say so,” Komui humored her, shaking his head with a smile as he got up. The bunny ears bounced along with his movement. “Be back in a little while, okay?” He leaned over to give her hair one last caress, and pressed his lips to her cheek.

“I’ll be waiting,” Linali reassured, as though there was anything else she could be doing.

Long time no see! We’ve been pretty lax about posting chapters, so we thought we’d make it up to you… this update we’ve got two of them and then an extra little present as an apology. If you’re coming from a Livejournal link, please click here to check it out. Enjoy and see you in Chapter 14!

Ch. 12. Tabula Rasa

As Cross went about making preparations to leave, Komui stuck close by him the whole morning long. Trailed along behind as Cross gathered up what passed for his luggage; sat in the bathroom while Cross showered (until Cross, finding this a terrible waste, invited him in); leaned on him a little as he got dressed; even offered to comb his hair. But at long last, the time for him to go away still, inorexably, crept up on them. Komui curled his hand into his zhu ren’s as he followed the other man down the hallway toward the entrance to Headquarters, not willing to give him up until the very last possible second.

Cross found all of this comforting, more comforting than anything he had ever known. He found himself almost as unwilling to go as Komui was to let him, even though he knew he didn’t have any other choice. Of course, having any real choice in the matter or not, Cross was still invariably himself and so he proceeded to spend a full hour at the main entrance of Headquarters for a smoking break before he left. His arm was wound tightly around Komui’s waist, and his lips found Komui’s own at least as often if not more so than they ever found the end of a cigarette.

“You know,” he murmured down to the lovely, shattered creature who loved him as only broken things could. “I wasn’t sure I wanted this, back in China… but now, Little Bird? I’m glad that I broke you.”

Komui just blinked at him for a moment and then smiled a little, politely, the smile of a person who didn’t precisely understand what was being said.

“Zhu ren knows what’s best for me,” he said, because it was true.

Luckily for all parties involved, Reever was not hungover from the night before as he accidentally stumbled across the couple in the hall. He wasn’t sober either. In fact, the alcohol from last night seemed to have yet to wear off. That didn’t stop him from drinking more, because rum was what was for breakfast after all, but the fact was that he was decently inebriated so hearing Komui say that Cross, his owner, knew what was best for him didn’t bother the new Supervisor as much as it should have.

Oh, it bothered him plenty. Just not as much as it might have. Several images flashed through his mind at once, most of them violent and involving General Cross and crucifixion, made him want to reach out and strangle the smug General or better yet, reach out into the past and strangle General Cross from three years ago so everything could be okay again–

“General Cross, you’re going to be late for your carriage,” he grumbled in the way of greeting.

Komui blinked, glancing over in Reever’s direction at the sound of his voice, and smiled again warmly. Then he looked back toward Cross.

“Zhu ren… does that mean you’re going away now?” he asked quietly, a prickle of apprehension in his voice.

“No, it doesn’t, Little Bird,” Cross offered reassuringly back. “The Supervisor was only reminding me of the time. I can stay a little longer.” Glancing over his shoulder at Reever, he suddenly smirked a little and then turned his attention back on Komui.

“Little Bird, give me a goodbye kiss, won’t you? I’m going to miss these pretty lips.”

Obediently, heedless of everything around him save his zhu ren’s desire, Komui leaned forward to press himself against Cross’s body and his lips against the man’s own. One hand steadied him against Cross’s chest as he let his eyes fall partway closed, languid.

Reever, at that moment, felt with no degree of uncertainty that he was about to be sick. A wave of nausea hit him, and he knew it had nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he had been consuming. Just… just… That sight. Komui kissing Cross that way, without thought or protest or– or– personality. There was nothing that spoke of Komui to Reever there. Just– He was standing right there. He was watching them and Komui still–

A horrible thought gripped Reever. That, perhaps, this was what Komui wanted. That Komui had changed. Willingly. Learned or had given in so that this was what he wanted. That he would rather be with the enigmatic Cross Marian than… than… well, Reever wouldn’t really blame him for the last part except Cross was cruel and horrible and evil and without conscience or feeling and–

“Stop it.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. He felt braver than he was. That much he blamed on the alcohol. “Stop it! You self-centered, spoiled, sorry excuse for a human being, forget one of the most important ranks of the Order! You may have taken him away from us for the last three years but he’s still our Supervisor! I’m temporary and he’s someone everyone looks up to and you’re just… Stop demeaning everything he is and go on your fucking mission!”

Cross didn’t say anything for the duration of the rant, only regarded Reever with a sort of disinterested irritation, the sort of response one would give a persistent moth or fly.

Komui pulled away from Cross a little and looked back in Reever’s direction with a slightly distressed expression, not quite sure how to interpret this development. He’d told Reever yesterday about — about how zhu ren had all his insides and it was goodbadhappywonderfulhorrible and Reever had been sad and he’d been sad too because… because he wasn’t quite sure why, but Reever had — had– Was he angry at zhu ren now? Did he… did he want zhu ren to go away and not come back, because zhu ren made him sad?

“…Reever?” he voiced the other’s name uncertainly.

“What?” Reever half snapped back out of sheer frustration. He didn’t know what to say to Komui. He barely knew what to feel about Komui. None of this made any sense and Cross wouldn’t tell him what was going on because he was Cross and Komui seemed in no state of mind to tell anyone anything and God why couldn’t Reever have just gotten a nice girlfriend who wasn’t involved with any extremely powerful, psychotic generals? Because at least then if she was going to break his heart she’d have the decency to do it in a simple, clean, straightforward way. Like dying. Dying was nice and neat and horrible but at least Reever would know what to do and feel. This… Not that he wished for Komui to be dead, that was an awful awful awful thought but he–

…just wanted things to be okay again.

“Don’t use that tone with Komui,” Cross chided lightly, gently petting the back of Komui’s head. “I don’t appreciate you being harsh with my things, Supervisor.”

“He is not one of your things!”

“Oh? Is that so? have you asked him?” Cross smiled slowly, deliberately, twisting his hand in Komui’s hair to pull his head back enough to croon sweetly into his ear. “Mmm… who do you belong to, Little Bird?”

“I belong to you, zhu ren,” Komui murmured back easily, eyes politely downcast. He could not have said why his heart began to pound so fast as he spoke the words.

“Me, correct?” Cross smiled, grinning lazily. “Not that pathetic excuse for a person over there?”

Reever felt his heart stop.

Komui didn’t understand why, but he really, really didn’t want to say it. It was true, after all — he was Cross’s thing, not Reever’s. There should have been no reason to hesitate. And yet… it made the hole inside him ache, just a little bit.

He remembered he had used to blow Reever kisses on rainy days.

Fleetingly, he remembered one particular rainy day.

And he didn’t think Reever was pathetic; but what zhu ren said was usually right.

His expression was sad as he shook his head a little, pulled forward inorexably.

“I don’t belong to him.”

“Mm, I love you, Little Bird.” These words were whispered near inaudibly directly into Komui’s ear. Reever couldn’t hear them, but he wasn’t so slow that he couldn’t read them off Cross’ lips.

Everything felt cold.

Komui’s eyes trailed back down toward the floor as they stood there.

Zhu ren. Loved him. And Reever…

Komui, you…

I love you, Komui.

Slowly, his arms slid around his middle, hugging himself.

“…Zhu ren?” His voice was a little breathless, one hand trailing up toward where the hole inside his chest was.

“It hurts right here,” he said softly.

“Don’t worry,” Cross soothed, kissing the top of Komui’s head gently. “When I come back I’ll help you feel nothing at all again.”

Komui nodded slowly, and because it hurt and that bothered him, turned to lean close against Cross’s chest once more.

By then Reever was already gone. The twitch in his hand had gotten to the point where it was all he could do not to shake. He’d just… spend the night in the liquor cabinet and deal with everything in the morning.

If God was merciful, there wouldn’t be a morning.

- – -

“Tapp!” a half awake, half coherent, extremely hungover Reever was grumbling/shouting in the general direction of the door. “Turn off the lights!”

“Um, uh… um… Su-Supervisor, th…the lights aren’t on. I just… just opened the door be… cause… I got these forms and–”

“Then close the door! Your voice sounds like nails, you know that? Like nails getting driven into my skull so just get the hell out of my office!”

“…but the forms really–”

“Now!“

The door shut quietly again and Reever rolled over, shoving his pillow over his head as though to further protect him from imaginary light.

It was another hour before he found it in him to peel himself off the floor of his office. He knew he had to get back into gear because all the work he had been missing was beginning to catch up with him. More than that, actually. It was practically on top of him and he was merely pretending to be too drunk to notice. He’d have to get some of it done today, but not with the headache he had.

Thankfully, some things never changed and Reever knew just the person to call on. They… argued from time to time these days, but so did Reever and everyone. Jerry always forgave him. Sighing, he found his little safari hat and pulled it on, over his eyes almost, and started on the perilous journey through well-lit hallways to the cafeteria.

“Oh, Reever!”

Jerry’s smile was a little bit strained as he greeted the other man walking into the kitchen, but that was fairly par for the course these days too. The chef seemed happier than usual to see Reever, however, undoubtedly owing to his unusual visit yesterday that had not involved demanding any alcohol.

“What can I do for you this morning?” he asked cheerily, tossing some pancakes one-handed as he spoke. “How was the pie? I must say, I had a little taste and I rather thought I’d outdone myself…”

“It was…” Uneaten. Because of… Reever frowned, pressing his hand against the side of his head. “I’m sorry, Jerry. We got sidetracked and didn’t quite manage to get through much of it. If you’ll forgive me enough to make it again, I’ll eat the whole thing in front of you, I swear.”

“We?” Jerry raised a slightly perplexed eyebrow at him, glancing away for a moment to take the pancakes off their heat and check on some scrambled eggs. “Was it for sharing with the Science Department? Ah well, I know how you boys get distracted. That’s really a waste of good food, you know, though,” he said, wagging a finger at Reever briefly.

“No, it was for Komui and–” The words were out before Reever remembered that he was the only one who really knew that Komui was back, the only one who really… who… He grimaced at himself but there was no taking the words back, really.

“…Komui came home last night.”

There was a sudden clatter as Jerry dropped his spatula on the floor.

“R–Reever? Did you just say–”

He turned around to stare at the other man, even pulling down his ever-present sunglasses a little to look directly at Reever, expression comically astonished.

“Komui-tan is back? And he hasn’t even come to say hello?” The chef wore a very offended pout as he reached down to retrieve his spatula, walking over to toss it into the sink with the other dishes to be washed.

“But I suppose he must have been worried sick about Linali,” he continued as he turned back, smiling sadly for a moment. Then his expression turned enthusiastic. “So how is he doing? Still our cute Komui-tan? Oh, three years gallivanting around the world with a General, he must have such an adorable tan~” Admittedly, beyond the fact that he’d missed his friend the Supervisor a great deal, Jerry had his own ulterior motives for being happy Komui was back — hopefully this would improve poor Reever’s mood enough that they could convince him he didn’t really need to drink so much.

“He…” Reever suddenly felt the need to sit down so he did exactly that, headache no more forgiving now that they had moved on from morning pleasantries to the subject of his alcoholism. “No, Jerry, he’s not, he’s… He barely knows who I am anymore.” Those words felt awful to Reever to say, felt like he was telling a small child that there was no such thing as Santa. He was already miserable. It wasn’t right to make Jerry miserable before he really had to be. And who knew, maybe Jerry, like the coffee, would make Komui more like his old self again, even for a little while.

But Reever was very lonely where he was. He didn’t really have anyone anymore.

An eyebrow raised from behind the sunglasses, and as Jerry rummaged through one of his supply drawers to find another spatula, he glanced back at Reever for a moment with a shrewd gaze.

“Reever? Whatever do you mean? You two aren’t having a fight, are you?”

“I wish,” Reever muttered. “Do you think you could… get me some of that stuff you give me for hangovers? Possibly mixed in with a bottle of hard liquor of your choice?”

Jerry tossed the pancakes and some of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, sprinkled salt onto the eggs, drizzled a bit of butter and syrup over the cakes, and went over to hand the plate to the Finder waiting at the far window. He grabbed a little blue bottle off one of his shelves as he headed back.

“I would be quite happy to give you some hangover elixir,” he said, hooking an arm under one of Reever’s to pull him to his feet, “I will not be mixing any liquor into it, and then while you’re drinking it,” and he waved a finger at the other man as he ushered Reever toward one of the kitchen’s back rooms, “I am going to put up the self-service sign outside and you are going to sit down and tell me just what’s been going on between you and Komui-tan and General Cross.”

“I have a rule where I don’t discuss Komui or General Cross while I can still see straight,” Reever muttered, but in such a way that it was fairly clear that he wasn’t going to resist. “Can I at least get something after? I have to work today, and I have to be medicated to work.”

“Rules are made to be broken,” Jerry replied cheerfully, ushering him to an overstuffed chair in a little sitting room that was part of his own private quarters before heading back toward the door. “And I imagine you’d work better if you could actually think straight.” He walked out before the other man had a chance to reply.

Jerry returned a few minutes later holding two glasses — the smaller of the pair held a slightly noxious-looking blueish/greenish goo, a mixture of raw eggs, vegetable puree, spring water, and the secret ingredient, an alcohol-repellent concoction of rare Chinese herbs (the recipe had been one of the very last Jerry had received from his master in his days as a chef’s apprentice, and they guarded their secret tradition diligently); the other was tall, clear, and bubbly, full of lemon-lime soda to wash the hangover cure down with. Jerry plopped both glasses down onto the little coffee table next to where Reever was sitting, and proceeded to plop himself down in the opposite chair.

“So! Drink up. And then fess up,” he requested with a wide smile.

At this point, Reever was so used to knocking back Jerry’s hangover cures that the taste was beginning to grow on him. He drank both anyway, out of habit if nothing else. He took his time with the soda, pulling off his hat to leave atop the coffee table, stalling as he tried to figure out where to even start.

“Well, you know at all how Komui got to be Supervisor here?” Reever finally sighed. The beginning was the hardest part, really. After that, bit by bit, the entire story simply poured out of him in no specific order. Reever wasn’t a terribly good storyteller and so he recounted specific events rather than the succession of them, but somehow he managed to get through it all. He might have started crying between talking about the last night Komui spent with him before leaving for China to seeing him again for the first time yesterday, but there was no way for Reever to pause the story at that point. He just kept talking and talking, increasingly sober and increasingly miserable until finally he ran out of events to talk about and buried his face in his hands to sit perfectly still. It was a game, almost. To see how long he could sit there and not break down, feeling his tears trickling between his fingers stubbornly anyway.

“…I never even imagined.”

Jerry’s voice was very quiet. In awe, almost, as he rose to walk over behind Reever’s chair and lay a hand on the other man’s shoulder, squeezing just a little. He’d often wondered over the past three years, just what could have been awful enough to drive alcohol-hating Reever Wenham to drink, what it might have had to do with Komui’s abrupt departure. He’d thought they had fought, perhaps. Broken everything off, been too vicious to bear, said things to each other that couldn’t be forgiven. Never had he even dreamed…

Komui hadn’t been entirely honest with him, either. Jerry had known that at some point he and Cross had been lovers and it had somehow ended badly, but… The first time they’d met, Jerry had been rather impressed with him, complimented him on what must be a very great genius indeed to be recommended to HQ by the Order’s most elusive General. Komui had just smiled a little wryly and mentioned that, well, it hadn’t hurt that he’d done a few favors to get on Cross’s good side.

Komui-tan. You silly boy.

He rubbed Reever’s back quietly.

“Just let it all out, sweetheart. You don’t have to put on a strong face in here. Not for me.”

“I don’t want to let it out,” Reever whispered, because his voice would crack if he spoke any louder. “I just want a drink, Jerry. Please. Then I can get back to work and… I don’t know. Live today. And I’ll figure out tomorrow… tomorrow.”

Jerry moved to crouch down in front of him, at what would have been Reever’s eye level if he had looked up; placed a hand softly on the side of his face, atop Reever’s own fingers, and stroked it a little.

“Sweetie… isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the last three years?” he said gently.

“Yeah, well–” Reever’s breath came in all wrong and he choked on it, trying his best to bite back a sob. He nearly managed it. “Let’s hope I can do it for another three years because I really don’t see how else I’m going to keep…” Getting out of bed. But Reever didn’t finish his sentence. It sounded too pathetic even in his own mind and instead he found himself gripping a handful of his bangs and tearing at them as he finally gave in and just let himself cry.

With a small, sad smile on his face, Jerry leaned forward and gathered up Reever in his arms for a hug, continuing to stroke his back soothingly. It might not have been much, but it felt like a little step in the right direction.

Because Reever hadn’t gotten a great deal of sleep and was still emotionally drained besides, it wasn’t very long before his tears tapered off to little trembling breaths and quiet sniffs. He felt wordlessly, bonelessly tired.

“…thanks,” he finally murmured when he felt coherent enough to speak again. “For everything, Jerry. For putting up with me. God knows it can’t be easy…”

“I’d have to say it’s not,” Jerry chided him gently, still rubbing his back, “but some things are worth putting up with. You know I’m always here for you, don’t you, dear?”

He stayed there a moment longer before pulling back at last, giving Reever a gentle pat on the side of the face as he looked the other man in the eye, tilting down his sunglasses.

“Listen to me a minute, all right?”

He took Reever’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“I know things look all messed-up and horrible and wrong right now, but… we have him back. And General Cross is gone, for a good long while. Isn’t it at least a place to start?”

“Y-you…” Reever shook his head, swallowing. “You haven’t seen him, Jerry. He just… like we were never together and… The way he talks, thinks it’s… most of it doesn’t make sense and what does it’s like talking to a child and… I feel like I’ve failed him somehow.”

“You didn’t fail him, Reever. What could you have done?” Jerry sighed. “I daresay there aren’t very many people in the entire Order who are a match for General Cross. Though I may have to start testing how high a dose of laxatives he can take in his food without being poisoned,” the chef mused with a speculative gleam in his eye.

Turning his attention back toward Reever, his expression sobered again.

“And as for Komui-tan… Well, he’s been with the General for three straight years. Don’t you think some time away from him might be a help? Komui-tan has always been a very strong human being. We’ve never had a tragedy that he hasn’t eventually been able to bounce back from. It just might take some time and patience on our part.” Jerry smiled gently, a little sad. “And in the meantime, I guess we’ll just have to look after him.”

“I… You’re… absolutely right, Jerry,” Reever managed, feeling marginally better if nothing else. It was… worlds better to hear the things he secretly hoped for spoken by someone else. “He was happy to have your coffee yesterday. Almost like he… hadn’t changed at all.” He sounded a little conflicted here, as though he wasn’t sure whether to be sad or happy and settled on slightly uneasy instead.

“…and Jerry?”

“Hm?” Jerry raised his eyebrows at the other man.

“I’ll wash all your dishes and pots and pans and scrub all your storerooms for a month if you put laxatives in General Cross’s food when he gets back.”

“I’ll take that bargain,” Jerry replied cheerfully. “But I already have plenty of help to keep my kitchen clean, so in return instead, how about you try to drink half as much each day as you normally do,” he continued, smile turning a bit pointed.

That, too, would be a place to start.

“Nnnnnnnnnngh,” Reever protested. “Two thirds. Unless you actually poison him. Then I’ll consider half.”

“Well, I might be in a wee bit of trouble if I actually managed to kill a General, but I can ‘accidentally’ triple the laxative dose,” Jerry offered happily.

“I didn’t say you had to kill him. As long as he’s violently ill the euphoria might curb my alcohol needs,” Reever responded almost cheerfully. He was still a little too exhausted to manage the proper enthusiasm required but he seemed less in utter despair than he had been when he first came in.

“Well, I’m sure I can manage a couple good solid days of everything coming out both ends, as it were,” Jerry offered with a distinctly evil smile. “Do we have a deal, then?”

“I suppose we do,” Reever smiled faintly back. “Throw in a couple meat pies here and there to keep me mostly sober and who knows, I might start having money to spend on things not alcohol again.”

“All right!” Jerry gave the other man a poke on the nose. “I’m holding you to it, Reever Wenham, do you hear me? No matter how cranky you get.” He smiled again as he rose from his place, offering the other man a hand up.

“And just you remember that this is for Komui-tan’s sake too. He’ll need you sharp. Now, that said…” He glanced back toward the kitchen speculatively. “I haven’t gotten to exercise my Chinese culinary skills in far too long.”

“Do me a favor and keep it in your metaphorical culinary pants for now, Jerry? I’m sure he’s had enough Chinese food the past three years,” Reever sighed, though he gratefully took Jerry’s hand to help drag himself rather unwillingly back on his feet.

“Cook him, like… Italian or something.”

“Oh, I know! I’ll fix up some blanquette de veau!” Jerry clapped his hands together delightedly. “He always did love French.”

“…sounds good,” Reever nodded, suddenly wondering… where had Komui’s beret gone? And then the world seemed a little bit more off its axis.

Jerry picked up the pair of glasses and led them back out into the kitchen proper, humming to himself as he made up a mental list of just what to cook to welcome Komui home.

“Where is he, anyway?” the chef wondered as he set the glasses atop the dirty dish pile. “Still with Linali?”

“Actually I don’t… don’t know. Last I saw him was yesterday, with the General and… um.” Reever stumbled over his words, looking at once uncomfortable. “I’m going to go look for him, Jerry. I’ll drag him down here to say hi when I find him.”

“Sounds lovely! I’ll be waiting! Now shoo,” and Jerry ushered him over to the door cheerfully, “I’ve got cooking to do.”

Komui, meanwhile, having spent the majority of the previous day huddled in Linali’s room talking to her and missing zhu ren terribly, today had migrated out of the infirmary and, more on instinct than anything, found his feet leading him to what had been his own room for the nine years he had lived here. He’d tried the door and discovered he’d left it locked; rummaging around in his bag, miraculously he’d managed to find the key, buried at the very bottom of a pile of clothes and other odds and ends.

After a shower and a change of clothes — zhu ren would not have been pleased with him if he let himself get all dirty — he’d then had to turn his attention to the matter of what exactly to do all day without zhu ren around to decide for him. For a while he’d just curled up on the bed and laid there, and tried not to feel too empty or scared or worried or — or anything, and after a while longer decided that this wasn’t working and zhu ren hadn’t told him what to do, besides not to change, so it really wouldn’t matter if he just picked out something to do for himself.

And his conversations with Linali had gotten him thinking a little…

Damp hair still hanging loose around his face, he’d quietly let himself out and padded down to where he remembered his labs were.

It took three rather depressing hours before Reever finally managed to locate Komui.

First, he had gone to Linali’s hospital room only to find out Komui had left some time ago. He’d checked Komui’s bedroom next, then Linali’s. He had checked his own bedroom, just in case. When all of those places yielded no results, he had even checked his office out of habit. By the end of hour one, Reever was feeling as though he’d lost his touch. He was always the one who could find the Supervisor, no matter what. But it had been a long time. Perhaps he was just rusty.

Next he had checked the ‘usual’ places. He’d checked the library and the bathrooms and circled outside to the training grounds. He’d gone back to the infirmary, in case Komui had stopped in again, but no one had seen him there since the last time Reever had checked. He’d looked in on his former team in the Science Department and none of them had even known that Komui was back. At the end of it all, Reever had even stopped back in the kitchen to see if Komui had come by for lunch.

He left with a bottle of something that promised to be 120 proof.

When hour two passed, Reever realized he wasn’t rusty. He was making rounds like he always used to. It was Komui. Reever didn’t know how Komui thought anymore, didn’t really know Komui at all. He didn’t have that understanding of Komui that helped him predict the former Supervisor’s whereabouts any longer, because, well… Komui wasn’t really Komui anymore.

It was this distressing thought that made him give up his search and go back to his office, planning on drinking and signing the day away as usual. Maybe Jerry was wrong about everything after all.

Before he really had a chance to get into it, though, a rather nervous looking Johnny knocked on his office door and poked his head in.

“Um… uh, u-um… Supervisor? Th-th-there are… sounds coming f-f-f-f-” Johnny had to stop and get his stuttering under control. “From… the… Su-su-s-Komui’s l-labs, and, uh, I… th-th-thought you should k-know.”

Hour three was just rolling over into hour four when Reever finally found his set of the keys to Komui’s labs and let himself into the one where the sounds Johnny had heard were originating from.

“Komui?” he called uncertainly as he let himself in. “You in here?”

“Hm?” A familiar figure peeked out from behind a standing chalkboard on the other side of the room. Komui’s considerably lengthy head of hair was loose and hanging over his shoulders, and little sprinkles of chalk dust stood out vividly here and there among the black locks.

“Oh, Reever? Where have you been all day?” he said with a smile. Actually getting up and doing something had improved his mood considerably. Granted, his incompetent attempts at research weren’t likely to be of actual use to anyone in the Order, but since he was stuck here anyway, there didn’t seem any harm in playing around by himself just for fun.

He hoped Reever wasn’t here to be upset at him again. Seeing Reever upset was… hard. Especially since nothing he’d done seemed to help much at all.

“I just had a thought, so I figured I’d come up here and see how it would pan out,” he said with a vague gesture at the chalkboards and lab tables scattered around the room. This particular lab was used not for experimentation or construction, but mainly for theoretical research; right now the chalkboards were mostly covered with equations, diagrams of atoms and molecules that looked to belong to human and Akuma respectively, and Komui’s standard jumbled mismatch of English and Chinese notation. It wasn’t, really, any more nonsensical or harder to read than his notes usually were, though a few of the scattered references to things like ‘opposite time/dimensional vibration’ and ‘non-Euclidean genetic geometry’ were a little arcane.

“Oh, that’s–” Reever stopped himself to frown a little, realizing how far he’d let his Chinese slide as he discovered he could only read perhaps a third of all the hanzi Komui had scrawled in between his English notes. That wouldn’t do; if Komui got– When Komui got better, Reever would have to be on top of his game if he wanted to be able to prevent things like giant robots destroying all of his meticulously-filed research from happening. He’d, well, he supposed he could cut into his drinking time a little and start learning Chinese again.

…God, what he wouldn’t give for another Komurin right about now.

“–interesting,” he finished as neutrally as he could. “What are you working on?”

Oh, good! Reever wasn’t upset. Or didn’t seem to be. Komui felt a little silly showing off his half-baked and undoubtedly useless equations, but nevertheless, gave his nose a slightly abashed scratch with one chalk-covered hand and obligingly attempted to explain.

“Well, it occurred to me,” he said, gesturing at the relevant chalkboards as he spoke, “that since a large part of the reason the Akumas’ poison is fatal to humans is that their genetic structure vibrates on a different dimensional plane and creates a logic vacuum, it would be possible to resist its effects if the victims themselves were temporarily capable of operating on the same plane.” Which, going against most conventional theories of the nature of physical beings and the universe, was an idea that any sane scientist would have considered flatly impossible and thrown out from the very start; but from the roundabout, furiously-scribbled math and the diagrams sketched over a couple of the boards… Komui had gotten maybe halfway there already.

“The… what?” Reever gawked. He’d stopped following at the words ‘logic vacuum’. “All of our efforts on antigens and antivenoms have been based off our findings on parasitic-type Innocence. What you’re proposing is… is…” He tried to read the notes again, brain ticking at the possibility of what Komui was suggesting. It was certainly an unorthodox approach, but it appeared to have basis at the very least.

“…brilliant.”

And for a moment Reever sounded seventeen again, giving Komui that wide-eyed, awed look of reverence reserved for children gawking up at their heroes and idols and objects of inspiration.

Komui blinked at him for a moment with sincere surprise. Perhaps Reever hadn’t realized how truly crap he was at all this yet, but…

“Um… really?” He smiled a faintly nervous sort of smile and absently began to chew on one chalk-covered thumbnail as he glanced back toward the board he’d been working on last. “Didn’t think it would come to much. But the idea seemed neat. Still trying to work out a cross-transitional pattern for the frequency of the Akuma blood compounds, though, which it’s entirely possible is, uh. Impossible.” He walked back over to the board in question, about half of which appeared to be written upside down, perhaps originally from the other side before flipping over. “In fact, I’ve probably fudged a crucial equation somewhere and the whole thing is just a little fancy knocking around my head. But that’s life,” he concluded cheerfully, turning to pick up a piece of chalk again and muse over a half-finished formula on the board.

“Uh, well, once you’re closer to getting done I’ll call in all the boys and we can double-check everything for you. Not sure how we’d… test this all, though.” Reever scratched the back of his head at the thought, frowning just a little. “But that’s kind of getting way ahead of ourselves. Still it’s all– Do you mind if I stay and look this over? Actually, I’d have to go grab my dictionary, but I’d… love to read your notes.”

“Sure, go right ahead.” Komui smiled again a little abashedly, not really sure why Reever was so interested in his rubbish, save perhaps to laugh at. Reever had an awful lot on his plate to waste time with mere entertainment, though. Well, maybe Komui had come up with one or two ideas that the Science Department could reshape into something workable. “Actually, if you’re going out anyway–” He felt a little guilty for asking, but seemed to remember doing so often in the past — “Could I maybe persuade you to grab some coffee… and, um, a sandwich or something?” he added as it occurred to him all of a sudden. “I think I may have missed…”

….when had he last eaten? He certainly had sometime in the last three days. He glanced down for a moment, trying to tally on his fingers how many meals he had not eaten, but it was all a little fuzzy next to more important concerns like zhu ren being gone and Linali being in a coma and Reever being… Reever.

“Um… food,” he concluded in a slightly nonplussed tone, blinking a little.

“I could,” Reever sighed, though a little fondly. “But you’ll owe me for the scolding Jerry’s going to give me when I ask him for food for someone who’s been gone three years and hasn’t dropped by to say hi yet.” Then he managed a smile, because, well, running errands for Komui wasn’t exactly one of his favorite pastimes, but he was the guy who’d give his right arm to get to spend all the time he normally used drinking to track down Komui with piles of papers.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t get yourself into any trouble, and no giant robots,” he warned firmly.

Komui had the grace to look embarrassed at the words, scratching at his nose with a single chalk-dust covered finger again. “I don’t think injection via giant robot would be a very good delivery vector for an antivenom anyway,” he said, blinking for a moment. Then he frowned a little unhappily as he glanced away.

“I should come say hi… Well, I guess there’s a lot of people I should say hi to…” He sighed a little wearily. The very thought was exhausting, and honestly a little scary. It had been so long since he’d been around anyone important besides zhu ren… and now here to a castle full of kind of important people all at once? All of whom kind of knew him, and most of them probably secretly thought he was an incompetent ass and had just never felt free to say it for fear he would make their lives miserable. The very idea made him want to just… curl up and hide in the lab until zhu ren came back.

Blinking the thought away, he smiled again, awkwardly, and looked back toward the board he’d been working at. “…But if I interrupt myself now I’m going to forget my whole whereabouts here… I guess I should try to finish it.” Since Reever seemed to find it interesting and all. And, well, so did Komui.

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” Reever reassured, and then quietly let himself back out.

Just outside the door, he sank down against the wall and just sat for a little while, tried to catch his breath. Odd how everything hit him all at once the moment he was alone. He took comfort in that he’d managed to hold it together in front of Komui, and that it had been much easier to do so than he’d initially expected. Everything could be okay. It had been tried and tested and found true. Everything could be okay, and so everything would. Somehow. Eventually.

And when Reever stopped wanting that drink again some ten minutes later, he let himself get up and go to the kitchen to put in that order for Komui, figuring he could get his dictionary while Jerry cooked.

When Reever returned to the cafeteria with his pile of Chinese dictionaries in hand to collect his coffee and sandwiches, Jerry handed him a cart.

The kind you pushed, like… street vendors had.

It was piled with food. Reever spent a full minute doing visual inventory of everything Jerry had prepared in the, what, twenty minutes he had been gone?

There was French consomme, baguettes, fresh strawberry crepes, and Caesar salad (tossed just right with not a drop too much of dressing and homemade croutons, Jerry was more than happy to point out) served with a pot of just-brewed coffee that smelled like it could keep a small army awake for days. Komui’s favorite.

“Uh, thanks,” Reever managed when he was done gaping. “For the sandwiches.”

For the sake of sport, Jerry asked if Reever would like him to slip a few aphrodisiacs into the coffee, just to see if he could still make the cute little Australian blush.

It worked, and Reever felt himself turning red right around the ears and ducked off, grumbling to himself about how Jerry had a memory like his mother and was never going to let that joke go.

“Komui, I’m back!” he called once he was in front of the lab door again, as he lacked the free hands required to knock. “You’re going to have to let me in! Jerry got carried away again!”

“Ummm, just a second!” came the slightly hurried reply from inside, followed by the scratch of rather furious-sounding blackboard scribbling. Komui appeared at the door at last wearing a couple new chalk streaks in his loose hair that made him look rather like an old man, and didn’t even stay long enough to glance over what Reever had brought inside, rushing back over to the chalkboard muttering mathematical formulae under his breath.

“So multiplying the function of both sums would… if that was reciprocal… wait– no– …. wait… Carry the three… Forty-two? Then that would be…”

He frowned at the chalkboard, wiped something out with his finger. Scribbled, frowned again, wiped again. Wrote down a few notes a little more slowly.

“….Ah!! Exorcist blood!”

He leaned out from behind the chalkboard again with head tilted to one side to look questioningly over at Reever.

“By the way, where’s Allen?”

“Probably getting a cold chill down his spine,” Reever offered skeptically, raising an eyebrow at the monologue he’d just walked in on. “And as soon as I mention that you’re looking for him, he’ll probably go into hiding since he scratched up his arm two weeks ago and hasn’t gotten it properly fixed yet. Last I checked, though, he was out on a scouting mission and due back either tomorrow or the day after that.”

“Really?” Komui frowned. “Well, that won’t do. Someone should fix him.” He didn’t bother suggesting himself, as they both knew the Exorcists all hated his horrible drills and it was a miracle he hadn’t managed to destroy any Innocence yet out of sheer incompetence. There was a reason he wasn’t Supervisor anymore, after all. Or much of anything else. Any of anything else, really, except zhu ren’s thing.

“…that looks really good,” he noted with eyebrows raised in surprise, his gaze properly alighting on the food cart for the first time. “And un-sandwich-like.” And he realized he could smell the coffee from here. Oh, bliss. He needed to go say hello to Jerry, he was being terribly rude… but what if Jerry actually hated him too? Komui knew he deserved it, but the thought made him feel a little sad all the same. It had been gracious of zhu ren to tell him the truth, though. Zhu ren always knew what was going on in his insides and whether it was bad. And inside the inside of his insides. And inside those insides too…

He shook off the thought after a moment and managed to bring his mind back to the present, which was full of food, and full of Reever, which was really very nice. Glancing down at his powder-covered hands, he set the piece of chalk down in its blackboard tray and went over to one of the lab sinks to see if he couldn’t get himself in a fit state to eat.

“The medical staff’s been shorthanded since we had that quarantine problem a few months back. You should give them a hand,” Reever suggested, seeing how work seemed to keep Komui at least occupied and stable. And, well, the Supervisor’s techniques had always been so haphazard that his instability would probably barely be noticeable. Allen certainly wouldn’t be able to tell any difference.

“…you mind if I have one of these strawberry things?”

“Go right ahead,” Komui beamed, wiping damp hands on his pants and grabbing a chair to drag over next to Reever and the food cart, which he then proceeded to plop himself down into. He fished around in his pocket for a moment before producing a black ribbon, with which he proceeded to tie back his still chalk-streaked hair.

“Don’t think medical staff is probably a very good place for me, though,” he said, a shade of self-deprecation surfacing in his smile as he reached for the salad. “I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. Or be underfoot while people are busy.”

“Why do you think you’d hurt someone?” Reever asked quietly, abruptly wishing the crepe in his hand was actually a bottle of alcohol. “And… underfoot? One, you’re assuming we have enough staff for you to be under the feet of and, well… underfoot? You’re… you’re Komui Li. You’re an honor to work with, provided you’re actually willing for once.”

“I, um…”

Reever just… kept saying it. Like he really honestly believed it. That Komui was someone to be looked up to, someone who… did a good job at things, maybe.

Maybe he… maybe he even really did believe it.

I love you, Komui.

He didn’t… want to make Reever unhappy, so he just smiled with the faintest bit of discomfort. “…Thank you. That’s nice of you.”

Then he looked down to start in on his food feeling a bit of a liar, and wished zhu ren was here to make everything work right so Komui wouldn’t have to fumble through and mess things up the way he always did. Without his insides it was hard to… to understand things right, kind of.

“Why do you sound like you’re humoring me?” Reever frowned rather in a rather good-natured way, crossing his arms over his chest. “Trying to skip work you’re not even assigned yet? Maybe as Supervisor I can do stuff to help motivate you. Like withhold your coffee rights until you’ve strapped Allen to a bed and fixed his arm. Or invented a new giant robot. Or designed an even shorter skirt for Linali’s next Exorcist uniform. Hm. That sounds like a good idea, actually. And once you’re good and used to actually doing your job, well, I’ll be able to give you your coat back with confidence that I’ll finally get some time to shave around here.”

“…Do you really think I should do that?”

Komui sounded faintly amazed and more than a little worried as he murmured down toward his food. He picked up a baguette, broke it open, and began to spread butter on it with a rather troubled expression.

“Work?” Reever asked back, sounding rather surprised. He passed the crepe from one hand to another, not quite ready to eat it yet. He was almost done with wishing it was alcohol, but not quite. “When don’t I think you should work, Komui? Come on.”

There was a rather doubtful and guilty and overall rather un-Komui-like expression on Komui’s face as he glanced away, hands slipping down to wring together in his lap, feeling of a sudden rather tense.

“They already removed me from my post,” he said in a small voice. “I don’t want to make any more messes.”

“…removed you?” Reever echoed. The crepe really wasn’t going to get eaten any time soon. “Komui, no one removed you from anything! Do you want me to go find my transfer notice? I still have it. Jesus, I mean– It’s temporary, Komui! It was supposed to be temporary! Not three fucking years! I don’t want this job. It’s yours and you were damn good at it so–” Reever stopped to slap his hand against his forehead, grimacing.

“…damnit. I’m sorry, I just–…” Need a drink. “…sorry.”

“I–” Komui, looking rather rattled by the outburst, vaguely shook his head a little, gaze meeting Reever’s for a moment before he glanced back down again. “It’s okay.”

He paused for a moment, wishing he didn’t have to continue. He was just making Reever all unhappy again. He wished he could stop doing that.

“That… was just a last kindness to me, to save face for everybody,” he said quietly, smiling a slightly nervous smile down at the floor. “They didn’t really expect to see me back.” Zhu ren had made that very clear.

“T-to save face?” Reever’s voice shook with disbelief. “We… we all expected you back, Komui. Everyone. Especially me, don’t you remember? I promised to wait for you. Would’ve been harder if I had the imagination to even humor the idea of… of…” Being with someone else. Anyone else. Reever couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Because… because Komui didn’t seem to remember at all. “Still. I waited. Three years, Komui. And I guess some of the guys might have stopped waiting but not me or Jerry or Linali and Tapp and Johnny miss you and 65′s been dusting your room for you every week.” The last bit had bothered him all this time. It felt like Komui was dead, almost, and that they were keeping up his room out of respect or denial or… something other than waiting. But it was 65′s way of waiting, he supposed. They all did their waiting in very different ways. Like Reever. He just drank the time away.

“They want you back, Komui. I’m a crap Supervisor. They all… they all want you back.”

“…Really?”

Komui still looked guilty, yet — touched perhaps; a small, slow smile of an entirely different sort passing across his face as he continued to stare at the floor. He was quiet for a long while with his hands still folded up in his lap, one gripped atop the other.

“I wanted to come back,” he said softly.

He remembered, he most certainly, definitely, had. Before. Something. (The hole in his chest gave a single painful stab.) He wasn’t entirely sure how he was meant to feel about it now. Only that… the thought made something ache a little.

He licked his lips briefly, trying to sort out his thoughts as he spoke them, a note of contemplation joining the sadness in his face.

“It… It hurt to be away. Now it hurts to be back.” He smiled a small, rueful and rather unhappy smile. “A bit of a catch-22, I guess.”

“We… have a lot of those, don’t we?” Reever sighed softly, thinking back to their conversation back when, and finally giving up on the crepe. He set it back down. “I think we broke the other one, though.”

“I told you, I can hardly be happy when you’re not happy,” Komui replied with another rueful little smile. The words came naturally to his lips, though a moment later, he couldn’t quite recall where from.

But… they were certainly true. Seeing Reever unhappy was… was…. It was– bad.

“Yeah, well, you can’t really say you’d be happy even if I was, could you?” Reever asked back, sounding a little more bitter than he’d intended to.

Komui looked up at him, very slowly. Smiled widely at him, another sad, meek, apologetic, self-deprecating smile, and glanced away and pulled his legs up against his chest atop the chair.

“I don’t– know.”

He leaned the side of his face against his knees, and kept smiling that helpless smile. “Maybe I don’t even know what happy looks like to know whether I was or not.”

He didn’t… really know anything any more.

Well.

He never had.

It wasn’t his place. He had zhu ren to know things for him. Like whether he was happy or not.

“…sure you do.” The words came slowly. Jerry was all wrong. It was the alcohol that let him speak, think, function. Right now, all of that was hard. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about all the stupid, stupid things that he couldn’t do anything at all to help. Was thinking of all the things Cross might have done to Komui, of all the things he used to have with Komui but didn’t anymore. Think of all the things that might’ve been different if only he’d refused the job, told the Head Generals they were out of their minds. Quit. Taken Komui with him. Something. Anything. All those infinite possibilities of the things that he could never have done but now knew that he should have.

“Happy is easy to remember. Like when you bring Linali her favorite ice cream and she kisses you on the cheek. That’s happy.”

Komui appeared to give this idea serious consideration for a moment or three. Then he smiled again. It was a small smile. There was no special hidden meaning behind it, no sad squint of the eyes or guilty tilt of the eyebrows or too-wide nervousness. It was just a smile.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “That’s what that was.”

He felt fairly sure zhu ren would agree.

“Mmhm. And. Kissing you for the first time,” Reever offered offhandedly, prodding the crepe he had set down for lack of anything better to do. “That was pretty awkward. But happy, I think. Maybe. I was happy.”

Komui looked at him for a moment, looked away again. Thought back. Found what he thought he was looking for, probably. It all had a strange unrealness to it now; a crystalline too-perfectness, like a dream. Like something that had happened to someone else.

“I felt…”

He thought about it.

“Nervous. Mad at you.” Another small smile surfaced on his face as he gazed down on the floor tiles. “…Happy, I think.”

“Mad at me?” Reever asked with a little, startled laugh. “Why were you mad at me?”

Komui closed his eyes briefly, smile widening. The memory felt the littlest bit more real, somehow.

“You were making me embarrassed.”

“Psh,” Reever dismissed with a rather broad, fond smile of his own. “You started it. So, really, you were making yourself embarrassed if anything. And I was embarrassed too, mind you. At least you know what was going on. Me, I just… I don’t know, actually. Don’t really remember what I was thinking. The kissing bit, that kind of took care of me trying to think.”

“Well, I was thinking that I wished you’d get the idea so I wouldn’t have to resort to drastic measures,” Komui replied with perhaps a faint hint of a very familiar pout.

He paused for a moment.

“That’s funny,” he murmured mostly to himself, shifting a little in his place as he continued to gaze downward thoughtfully. “…It’s clearer when I talk about it.”

“What’s clearer?” Reever asked, feeling his chest constrict a little bit. Almost. The old Komui… He drew in a little breath, held it a second. It was okay. There was progress. Things would be okay. Reever found himself finding something rather funny as well.

You’d think, he thought to himself a little bitterly, that after three years of waiting I’d be a more patient man.

“…Um.”

Komui’s head sort of drifted to one side a little, expression still thoughtful. Loosely-bound, chalk-dusted black hair shifted around his shoulders.

“Well, all my… stuff is still in my head, mostly, I think, but it doesn’t… fit together right… I know it doesn’t,” he frowned, looking a little unsure of himself. “Like that shouldn’t be… hard to remember. That’s…”

Zhu ren would be very unhappy with him. Zhu ren didn’t want him to change. Not his hair, not anything.

“…shouldn’t have to think so hard about it,” he mumbled, guilt prickling at the hole in his chest where the rest of his insides should have been.

They were just… just memories, right? They were already in his head. …Probably. He wasn’t going to change.

He never wanted to make zhu ren unhappy.

“…it’s been a long time,” Reever offered weakly, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand as though to check whether or not his stubble was still there. “Memories fade when you don’t use them. Maybe the memories just need more thinking about. It’s a little hard for me to remember too.”

…but that was probably the alcohol on Reever’s part. He briefly humored the idea that Komui’s excuse was much better than his. Years upon years of psychological and physical and emotional abuse had done this to Komui. And as for himself, well, years upon years of substance abuse was what made him the way he was. At least with Komui it had been mostly unwilling.

Komui looked up at him for a moment, with some surprise.

“Really?”

His eyes drifted back down toward the floor again after a moment, expression gradually smoothing out into a blank.

“But it was like… something that didn’t even happen to me. Until I said it out loud,” he mumbled. Dark eyes turned on Reever’s face again.

“…Do you do that too?”

“…if I’ve been drinking,” Reever sighed rather honestly with a little shake of his head. He looked tired. “But everyone’s different, Komui. It’s okay. We’ll… we can sort through things together, if you’d like. We share a lot of memories, you know. Nine whole years of them.”

“You should probably… maybe not do that, then,” Komui mumbled in return, blinking down at the floor and continuing to look a little vacant for a moment. He shook his head a little and blinked again, and nudged a hand underneath his glasses to rub at his eyes.

“…That would — be nice.”

He looked back up at Reever again for a second, and then smiled — a slightly forced smile, but a smile nonetheless — an offering of sorts. It made him a little uneasy; but… they were all already in his head, weren’t they? He hadn’t dreamed them up or put them in there?

He hoped zhu ren wouldn’t be unhappy with him.

“I’m glad you agree.” Reever smiled faintly back. He eagerly ignored the bit about his drinking. Komui would have a right to nag about his alcoholism when he was Supervisor again and not a moment before. “Anything specific you’d like to remember or are you just going to let me ramble? I’ll go on for days.”

“Um.”

Komui curled his arms around his knees, laid his head back on them. Stared quietly at the far wall for a while longer, perhaps in thought.

“There was… a day. In the rain.”

His voice was quiet. Something, perhaps, like reverent.

“I used to blow you kisses when it was rainy outside,” he murmured.

Swallowing, Reever went very, very still and slowly clenched his hands, dropping his gaze to his lap. Yeah. He remembered the rain too. It was one memory that persisted. Into his dreams, into his semi-lucid drunken stupors. Always. It was always with him. It was all that kept him going and yet at the same time the only thing that made it so hard. But there really hadn’t been… a great deal of kiss-blowing that day. Just kissing. Painful, farewell kissing.

“…blow me kisses?” Reever asked quietly, turning his gaze back up to look at Komui with confusion. “I remember rain too, just… you never blew me kisses, did you? We just… kissed, really. Nothing to stop us from the real thing.”

“In China,” Komui said quietly. “Every rainy day. Except, I stopped because… I couldn’t think of why I was doing it.” His voice slipped back down into a mumble as he blinked at the floor.

“But… we did, didn’t we?” he said after a moment, one curled-up hand resting against his mouth, a faint sense of wonder in his voice.

“Y..yeah,” Reever managed, voice cracking a little. Komui had missed him, right up until he… forgot. It kind of made Reever want to laugh, kind of made him want to break down and cry. He seemed to settle on a quiet, almost delirious laugh as he wiped away the few tears that had escaped with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” he forced out, voice a little stronger. “We… used to all the time.”

“I remember,” Komui murmured, the images coming more easily now that he was seeking them out. Kissing. Pressed together, cuddling. Sharing their bodies.

“It was nice.”

His voice was a little wistful.

He paused for a moment as he curled up tighter in the seat, gaze slipping further downward.

“I’m sorry I made you unhappy,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well, you can’t be really miserable unless you’ve been really happy,” Reever shrugged easily. He’d never really blamed Komui for anything. He blamed himself ceaselessly sometimes, but Komui was always the victim. A moment of silence passed that might have been hesitation before he held out his hand with great uncertainty.

“…am I allowed?” he finally asked, taking the words from memory without meaning to. He made a vague gesture that might have meant he would have liked to hold Komui.

Komui looked up. Stared at Reever’s hand in blank silence for a few moments. Felt the hole ache a little, where his insides should have been.

Zhu ren was going to be so unhappy.

But… Reever was right here and he was unhappy too, and… and so was Komui, and… he couldn’t bear the thought of being here all by himself.

Stretching out his legs a little, he placed his hand in Reever’s, and made to rise.

And found himself suddenly quite lightheaded and stumbled forward into the other man’s arms perhaps sooner than Reever might have intended.

“…Um.” He blinked at the other man’s chest for a moment in startlement.

Reever said nothing, only wound his arms around Komui tightly and held on as though he never intended to let go. He tried not to hold his breath, tried not to pretend that this was anything but what it was. He tried not to be too happy, because it hurt more when everything came crashing down again. The years had beaten all the optimism out of the man, so trying wasn’t hard. It didn’t take much to convince himself not to pretend there weren’t years and worlds standing between them, not to pretend that Komui didn’t feel different in his arms, not to pretend that Komui wasn’t reluctant and didn’t really remember much of what they had once shared at all.

It was what it was.

Reever suddenly frowned as the thought gave him a chill. He didn’t really know why.

“…I love you,” he whispered, hoping those words would melt the chill away. They didn’t.

Komui, for his part, held on tightly as well. Because… it felt nice. And also because, well, he wasn’t entirely confident he could keep standing up otherwise.

“Um… could we maybe… sit back down?” he requested after a moment, a little breathless. “I feel kind of… dizzy.”

Reever blinked away his thoughts and considered this request for a moment.

“Mmm… no, actually. You haven’t eaten since you got back, have you? And obviously I can’t be trusted to feed you,” Reever sighed, glancing at the second failed attempt at having a meal with Komui. “I think right now is an excellent time to get reunited with Jerry. Come on.” And then Reever switched his grip on Komui to pick him up (distressingly noting that Komui felt a lot lighter than he remembered) to carry him off to the cafeteria.

“Ack–” Komui squawked in a rather undignified fashion as he found himself entirely off the ground, clutched bridal-style in Reever’s arms; he wrapped his own around the other man’s neck with some reluctance. “You don’t have to… carry me places…” he mumbled, looking profoundly embarrassed.

“No, I really don’t,” Reever agreed readily enough. “But I’d rather carry you while you’re conscious than after you pass out from lack of food and promptly become dead weight. Come on, then. If you’re good I’ll talk in Australian for you later.”

Komui looked at him for a second and then smiled vaguely, relenting to rest the side of his face atop Reever’s shoulder.

“Reever?” he said as they headed toward the door.

“Hm?” Reever asked back as he coaxed the door open with an impressive combination of knob-jiggling and foot-nudging.

“Say something in Chinese,” Komui asked with a faint smile, looking perhaps the slightest bit mischievious.

“…damnit,” Reever swore, almost pouting. Then he drew his lips into a thin line and sighed. “Don’t make fun. My Chinese needs studying, okay?“

A helpless grin spread across Komui’s face as he tried not to laugh and, very graciously, made no reply at all.

Welcome to another chapter!  First I must apologize for the utter lateness of this one, which is entirely due to laziness on the part of yours truly (Loren), which I have no excuse for.  So feel free to beat me with sticks if chapter 12 doesn’t go up precisely a week from now, lol.

No Chinese glossary for this chapter, but if you see a word you don’t know, please let me assure you it will be explained in time ;)

Ch. 11.  A journey of a thousand miles…

“Supervisor!”

In the Science Department, all the researchers in the lab left their stations to rush to the Supervisor’s side, none of them knowing quite what to do. It was Johnny that shouldered his way to the front of the crowd, yelling for them to give the Supervisor some space. Tapp was already on his way to find a medic.

“Supervisor Reever?” Johnny asked, sounding a little nervous as he knelt down next to the other man. It had gotten harder and harder to talk to their old lab buddy over the years, but right now it really couldn’t be helped. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I-I…” Reever began, blinking his tired, bloodshot eyes. He pressed his palm against his forehead and looked down at all the papers he had dropped when he fell, at the little collection of broken glass that had moments ago been a bottle of whiskey. He lifted his arm and felt it sting, watched his own blood run down it to drip into the little amber pool of alcohol. “I felt… dizzy, I think. I don’t know. Maybe I slipped or…”

“Do you feel sick? Should we get you to the clinic or–”

“I…” Reever frowned, staring down at his arm to watch it bleed. Cuts were supposed to hurt, weren’t they? “I don’t really feel… anything at all.”

“…okay, Supervisor. We’re, um, going to take you to the clinic now. Can you stand? Supervisor…? Supervisor?”

But Reever wasn’t really listening. All he could do was watch his arm continue to bleed.

- – -

Not too long after their awakening, once Komui was dressed again (Cross had to help him a little) and coherent enough to walk around, they set out away from Komui’s hometown at a very leisurely pace to return to the city they’d left the day before.  Komui was exhausted from the ordeal and needed to rest frequently; Cross would take him aside to sit together under the shade of a tree or against the back of a hill, and pet his hair and point out the wispy clouds overhead, or the wildflowers, or the birds chirping.

Komui got a little hungry, and there were some moon cakes in his bag, so he ate them without much thought.

He still ached in bad places, though he couldn’t feel it very well, the sensation seeming almost entirely detached from his body; he had a vague sense that something very, very bad had happened, but when he tried to think about it too hard the only things that would come to him were the feelings — terror and pain and anger and hurt oh god it hurt so bad and he would have to curl up a little and stare at the ground as the tears came, and zhu ren would pick him up and kiss him and pet him and cradle him until they went away again.

……No, that was right.

He wasn’t allowed to say Cross, after all.  He remembered.

After they had been resting in a small in-between village for a short while, Cross looked across the street into a store’s window where he could see the face of a clock. A quiet, rather contented sigh left his lips and he gave Komui’s hand a little squeeze, turning his gaze onto the preciously absent man.

“Little Bird,” he called gently, reaching out to stroke Komui’s cheek to draw his attention. “Are you ready to go on? The next ship leaves in the morning and there’s a long way to go yet.” Pausing then, he offered Komui a fond little smile. “I’ll carry you if you’d like.”

“…Um.”

Komui just looked up at him for a moment, curled fingers rising toward his lips uncertainly, and then at last shook his head a little.  Zhu ren shouldn’t carry him, it would just make him tired too.  Komui picked up his bag and rose from their seat a moment later to show that he was ready to go.

And hadn’t… he said something about…

“…A ship?” Komui murmured, head turning slightly at an angle in a slightly perplexed pose.  He blinked down at Cross blankly.

“Mm, we’re going back,” Cross sighed, speaking as though this fact greatly displeased him. Still, he put his arm around Komui’s shoulders and offered him a reassuring smile. “But don’t worry, Little Bird. I won’t leave you.”

Going back?

….going back.

To Headquarters, some part of his mind supplied.

Zhu ren hated Headquarters.  And he… left Komui alone there.

But not this time.  He’d said so, just now.  Not this time.

…there was something else he knew about Headquarters.  Something… there were…  there were—  People.  That was it.

For a moment, he just stared down toward the ground a little; he could sort of…  think of…

His eyes widened a little.

“……Linali?  …  Reever?” he mumbled to himself, a vague expression of wonder flitting across his face as he looked back up to blink at the buildings of the town.  They were…  he knew who they were, he was sure he did.  He definitely…

…Maybe zhu ren would let him see the people.  That would be…

For no reason he could understand, a shiver passed through his body.

That would be… nice.

“Mmhm,” Cross confirmed with a slight nod. “They’re both still there to the best of my knowledge, but let’s not think about them right now. Let’s just have a nice, quiet trip home, okay, Little Bird?”

His hand twitched a little. He’d just called the Headquarters ‘home’. This happy, mellow feeling had to go. It was beginning to change him in all the worst ways.

“We’ll be spending the night in the port town we first arrived in,” he continued after a short lapse into silence. “It’s a long trip back to Europe, so we should savor our last night in China, don’t you agree?”

Home?  Was Headquarters home?

Was– was home….

Home was…

…there was a cold, tight, bad kind of feeling inside his chest, maybe somewhere around where his heart was, and Komui decided he should think about something else.

Zhu ren had said…

“I…  yes,” he agreed quietly, blinking up at Cross with a slow nod.  He would miss China, he thought.  China was…

Was…

…it was where he’d lived with zhu ren.  It was terribly important.

He reached for the other man’s hand almost shyly, blinking down at it as he held it in both his own.

It felt… nice to be with zhu ren.  Safe.

“Good boy,” Cross murmured, leaning over to kiss Komui rather possessively. It wasn’t really that he was much of an exhibitionist as much as kissing in the middle of a somewhat busy town was something Komui would have positively had a fit over before. The little reminders of how very much Komui was absolutely his now, well, those made all the difference in the quality of Cross’s day lately.

He smiled and greeted a woman gaping at them from across the way brightly in Chinese as he pulled back from the kiss and then led Komui on. They had a long way to go yet.

- – -

The ship ride back to Europe was nearly as uneventful as the ride to China had been, but Cross made sure Komui spent a great deal more time in his lap and in his bed. They acted like an almost normal, almost happy, and very nearly almost healthy couple for the majority of the journey. Cross would feed Komui little bites of breakfast in bed, talk to him about nothing at all and strictly confidential Order business and back to nothing at all, would share wine with him and spend entire afternoons simply stroking his hair. The trip back passed by much faster that way.

And one day they were back, as though they had never gone, sailing up the little channel that led to the elevator which would save them from climbing up the sheer face of a cliff. Once inside the elevator, Cross leaned back against a wall and sighed.

“Komui,” he called, sounding distinctly unhappy. “Come here. I need to talk to you.”

Komui, who had been standing near the elevator doors watching the rock wall pass by through the windows, turned to move to Cross’s side with a faintly curious expression.

“Once we get to the top, you have to go to the infirmary. I won’t be going with you,” Cross informed impassively, arms folded over his chest. “Linali’s been hurt. She’s probably still in intensive care. You remember where that is?”

“…Hurt?”

Komui’s eyes grew very wide.

Swallowing, one curled-up hand creeping up toward his mouth in distress, he glanced away with a furrowed brow.  Linali…  His Li Li was…

….intensive care.  That was… was definitely bad.  Up the stairs, past three doors, exit to the right, watch out for the swinging cabinet, turn left, end of the hall.  And.  Bad.

“…I remember,” he murmured, looking up at Cross again with that same wide-eyed expression.

“What… happened?”

“She took down a level three Akuma all by herself,” Cross shrugged. “Apparently she made it a point to be at Headquarters as little as possible. She was bound to pick up a bad mission eventually, and she did.”

….Linali.

All of a sudden Komui was very afraid, and he latched onto Cross’s arm without much conscious thought, staring down at their shoes and listening to the elevator hum.

Cross let him hold on until the elevator came to a stop before he gently but firmly shook the other off.

“Go to her,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll be in my room. Drinking, if you’d like to join me after. And no one knows we’re back, so try not to give any of your old friends heart attacks, okay? Or do. I really can’t be bothered.” Hands firmly in his pockets, Cross stepped out of the elevator and seemingly disappeared into thin air, but he had a way of doing that at Headquarters. Something to do with years and years upon years of practice. The Head Generals were probably already looking for him. God damnit.

Komui stared after him for a few moments, feeling a little lost; but he knew where he needed to go.  He needed to see Linali.

Turning around, he headed off toward the medical wing stairs, feeling vaguely grateful that he still remembered where everything was.  It felt like such a long time ago…

- – -

“I’m not going to give you any more whiskey, Reever!”

“God damnit, Jerry!” Reever swore, pressing the palm of his hand against his forehead. His head hurt, ached the same dull throb that never really left him. It made it hard to work, hard to function, hard to think– But that was the point, really. To make it hard to think. It’d been at least three hours since his last drink. His mind was clearing, those goddamned thoughts were returning. Rain. Rain and kissing and a promise and his bare right wrist and waking up to nothing at all and time was clearing, the chronological order of things sorting themselves for him again. He could remember that Komui hadn’t been here yesterday, that they hadn’t worked on a project together on the kitchen floor he was standing on for at least three years now. He could remember that he had been alone in the rain last week and stared at the sky until he was sober, then curled up in his room and drank until all the rain was inside his head and he could stare up at it some more. Everything was making sense again and there was such a profound sense of reality and Reever hated it all.

“If you don’t give me a drink, I’ll just drag myself into town and get a case of it for myself so just save me the fucking trouble!”

“You’ve gone through three bottles since the week began,” Jerry sighed, shaking his head. “You’ve been drinking more and more since you had that little fall in the lab and I really don’t see how more alcohol is going to help your coordination.”

“It’s not about my coordination!” Reever snapped, shouldering past Jerry to where the alcohol was stored. “I don’t sign up for labs anymore, okay? I’ve got five hours of paperwork to look forward to ahead and then at least another three of filing and I won’t be able to do any of it if I don’t get a drink!”

“Reever, you’re killing yourself!”

“So what?” Reever growled with an irritated roll of his eyes. “So is everyone else! And funny thing, I’m not dead yet and still I keep writing up all those casualty reports for all those kids who don’t drink. So what do you want me to do, Jerry?” He came back with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and two tucked under his arms. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Jerry again for at least the next two days.

“Should I give up drinking? Send myself out to the Akuma, save myself some misery?”

When Jerry didn’t answer, Reever laughed a short, almost mocking sort of laugh and left the kitchen.

The first thing he did was drop off the spare bottles to his office, crack open the bottle he had left, and began self-medicating to get rid of all those nasty thoughts clawing around in his head. About a year and a half ago he had dispensed with the need for glasses altogether. This way, there was less to accidentally knock over and break, less to forget to wash, less to deal with. Because God knew Reever already had more than he could really handle to deal with as it was.

Or maybe He didn’t. Reever had long since become convinced that God was blind.

Knowing he probably wouldn’t see outside his office for the rest of the day once he started on his papers, Reever decided to visit Linali since most of her friends were out on their own missions and she was probably lonely. Still rather enthusiastically nursing his brand new bottle of whiskey, he slowly made his way to the infirmary. There was really no need to hurry. He was shit for company when he wasn’t properly drunk. He’d tried it once, and all he’d managed to do was sit at her bedside and cry.

Linali, being one of their too-few and precious Exorcists, had been given her own private room in the intensive care wing.  The door generally remained closed to keep the environment within as sterile as possible, but most of its top half opened into a window, so passing doctors and nurses could easily look in on the patient inside as they passed.  If Linali had woken up, there was a curtain she could have pulled across to give herself a little more privacy, but, well… she hadn’t woken up.

As Reever came closer down the hallway, he could hear a quiet, gentle murmur of unintelligible Chinese.

That voice… almost sounded familiar. Reever was hearing things again. He obviously hadn’t had enough to drink yet, so he stopped outside the door to have a little more whiskey. A little meaning he drank the stuff like water, because liver poisoning was a very small price to pay to not hear voices in his head anymore. That was a sign of being crazy, right? Hearing voices? But Reever was still there enough to know that voices meant he could possibly be crazy, which was supposed to mean that he wasn’t.

He really didn’t know what to think anymore, which was why he normally made a strong point not to.

Little bits of the conversation managed to translate themselves out of Chinese because no matter how hard Reever tried or how many brain cells he killed off with his drinking, he could never quite get his brain to stop working. Something about Linali’s hair being short. Something about sharing. Hair? Maybe Reever had already had enough to drink after all. Sighing, he finally gave and let himself in, and promptly realized that Linali seemed to have a visitor.

Reever blinked.

He looked down at his bottle of whiskey like it was somehow at fault.

He looked back up.

“K–”

He tried to say Komui’s name. Tried hard. But he’d gotten so used to cutting himself off from even thinking the name that all he managed was a strange little choking sound.

Komui Li looked over his shoulder.

In that moment, he felt indefinably… better, in a way he could not have explained.  Zhu ren wasn’t here and his sister wasn’t waking up, and might not wake up anytime soon according to her medical report…  but somehow, seeing that face made a little puzzle piece click into place in his head, one that had been missing for a long time, long before…  …he couldn’t really remember, but, a long time indeed.

He blinked at Reever a little uncertainly for a moment before turning around in his seat, and doing the only thing that felt natural: he gave the other man a quiet, gentle smile.

“…Hi.”

Reever had thought about today for a very, very long time. He had thought about it every morning he couldn’t bring himself to crawl out of bed. He thought about it every night he was sober enough to fall asleep rather than pass out. He thought about it every time he put on his uniform in the morning, a uniform that wasn’t really his because it didn’t fit as well as it should have, because it wasn’t made to his measurements like the one he had hiding under his bed. He thought about it when he was in the shower and when he was having a food break. He thought about it every time he looked down at the absent bracelet on his arm. He had thought about it for a very, very long time.

What he would feel when he saw Komui again. What he would say. What he would do. He knew he’d feel sad. And relieved. Maybe a little delirious, like he was living a beautiful dream. He was sure he would be happy, sure he’d feel overwhelmed and he would reach out and hold Komui and welcome him home and have a nice, long cry and put away the whiskey forever.

He never expected to stand numbly in the doorway and stare. Stare at Komui’s little smile like nothing was wrong and nothing had happened. Stare at the only thing in the world that could have really brought Komui back, at Linali lying so peacefully in her coma. He stared at how different Komui looked and how different everything was and–

He didn’t understand why his first reaction was to feel angry. He didn’t know why, but he felt it, felt his grip on the neck of his bottle of whiskey tighten, felt all of his muscles tense and felt a sort of heat flood to the back of his neck. He didn’t even know what he could possibly be angry about. Everything should have been fine. Better than fine. But it wasn’t.

“You’re back,” Reever choked out, staying where he was by the door. “We didn’t get a notice.”

“I suppose he probably didn’t send one,” Komui murmured, eyes drifting thoughtfully to the floor for a moment, head tilted slightly to the side as he stood from his seat.  Zhu ren hated Headquarters, after all.  He was very sure about that.  “We probably wouldn’t be here, except…”

His gaze turned back toward Linali for a moment.  Then moved back up to Reever’s face, a little uncertain.  The other man’s expression was…

It took him a moment to sort through, thoughts a little scattered and off-track, but…  he didn’t think he could remember another time when Reever had ever looked at him like that.

When zhu ren looked like that, Komui… what did he do?

Hid.

“…I missed you,” he murmured, because he had; it came out a little timidly.

Reever’s gaze flicked down to Komui’s wrists and found them both startlingly bare. He glanced down at his own wrists, then back up again. Another long swig of whiskey found its way into Reever’s mouth. At this rate he would be dead before there was enough alcohol in him to sufficiently cope with this situation.

“Good to know,” he answered, unable to help the bitterness that slipped into his voice. It seemed the only two moods Reever could manage these days were ‘bitter’ and ‘angry’. Occasionally there was ‘distraught’, but only when he found himself accidentally sober. “I’d tell you I missed you too, but you don’t really need to hear me say it, do you? Your eyes look like they still work.”

The cold feeling in Komui’s stomach had come back.

He had a horrible feeling that this was…  this was all wrong.  Not just because, well, he did have eyes and it was wrong but — there was something—

….Happy.

He’d made Reever very… un…  happy.  The when and the what and the where was a little mixed up in his head but he remembered…  Reever had… cried.  He’d looked so, so very sad and– there had been a night — in the rain–

Reever, you ass, came one completely lucid thought bubbling up out of his brain, you were supposed to try to be happy.

He didn’t want Reever to be sad.  This was all Komui’s fault.  As usual.  From the sound of his voice, Reever knew it was Komui’s fault too.

His arms slowly drew around his middle.  He glanced back toward Linali’s sweetly unconscious face for a second, then his gaze turned on the floor.

“Should I– I mean…”  He chanced a glance up at the other man’s face.  Still glaring.

“…I can go back downstairs,” he said quietly.  The puzzle piece that had fit so neatly before was wavering a little in its spot.

Maybe he’d been wrong.

“No, it’s fine,” Reever muttered, rubbing his temples. “You’re her brother. Stay with her. I’ve got work anyway.” He tugged a little uncomfortably at the collar of his coat, shaking his head.

“You know how it goes. Or maybe you don’t anymore. Been three years after all. But maybe you don’t realize that either.”

Komui blinked once, gaze still trailing the floor as he turned around to plop wearily back into his seat.

“It was a long time, three years.”

He pulled his legs against him to curl up on the chair, wrapping his arms around his knees, looking off with a faraway gaze at nothing in particular as he thought back.  Three years.  It felt more like…  five billion, four hundred eighty-two thousand, six hundred fifty five.  Point two.

…Or so.

“We went all the way up and down China,” he murmured, sounding almost contemplative.  “Zhu ren and me and… nobody else.  …And Akuma.”

Something bothered Reever about what Komui had just said. The Chinese that he had used in place of Cross’s name. He’d fallen out of the habit of carrying his dictionary around, but– Zhu ren. Where had he heard that before? He committed it to memory the best he could to look up later. Because something. Something. Was not-okay with it.

“China?” he asked instead without really thinking about it. It was reflex, making small talk while being entirely checked out. He relied on it these days to convince people that he was, for the most part, okay. Which he wasn’t. But he could pretend.

Komui nodded slowly.  Looking up at Reever, the slightly less foreboding expression on the man’s face, he cast about his memory for something else to say — parts of it were mixed up and fuzzy and made his head hurt a little, parts blurred and dim with routine; it had been such a long time…

“We found Suman,” he said quietly as he recalled it.

“Suman…?” Now there was a name that hadn’t even crossed Reever’s mind for the last three or so years, not since Komui left. And somehow he couldn’t even bring himself to feel bad that one of their own had gone MIA and he hadn’t spared Suman a single thought. If nothing else, though, it managed to firmly catch Reever’s attention. “Dead, I’m assuming?”

“Togaochi.”

Komui blinked at the other man expressionlessly.  It didn’t really occur to him to wonder why Reever didn’t know.

“He betrayed us all.”

The word made Reever stiffen, sent an ice-cold chill down his spine. He instinctively glanced over at Linali, at her wrists, and felt a minor anxiety attack hit him full on in the chest. It took him a moment to recover, to get his head working right to speak again.

“But– The only documented cases we have are of when Innocence is put into non-Compatible people. Suman was an Exorcist, so why…?”

There was a faint, if grim, echo of Komui’s usual lecturing tone when he spoke again, the subject recalling old mannerisms to his scattered memory.

“Any Exorcist who has betrayed God, or his Church, can become Togaochi.  Suman sold the lives of a hundred forty-eight comrades to the Noahs, trying to save his own.”

Komui paused for a moment, swallowing.  That day… was still vivid.

“Zhu ren killed him before he could do much damage,” he added in a murmur, leaning his chin against the top of one knee.

“He–“

Why hadn’t Reever seen it before? It was all there. The call from Suman’s Golem, his subsequent disappearance. It wasn’t uncommon for agents to ask about the whereabouts of their comrades, but why hadn’t the sheer quantity of the information Suman asked for tipped him off? He had the records, reports of transcripts for the day. It was all there and he’d just… missed it. Because he was too busy wallowing in his own problems, too busy drinking, too busy doing all the things that needed the least doing in his job.

“I–… I’ll write a report once… once I get back to the office,” he managed, drawing in deep breaths. Deep breaths. It was okay. It was–

–blood running down their faces. Sightless eyes. That one couldn’t hear. That one was screaming but there wasn’t any sound. That one was just a little girl. That one had trusted them.

Whiskey sloshed out of the bottle in Reever’s hands as he tried to bring it to his lips despite the violent shaking of his hands. His eyes were already watering and he hadn’t even had any yet.

Togaochi.

Komui glanced back toward Linali for a moment, took her in once more.  The dark circles under her eyes.  Her pretty, shorn hair.  The little white lines still visible across her wrists.

…the day he’d first come to this castle, to this infirmary.  That was vivid too.

Then he looked back at Reever, watched the other man’s hands shake, blank-gazed; watched his face.

This was… wrong.  Reever…  he shouldn’t look like that.  Shouldn’t ever look like that.  Komui hadn’t been around for the Togaochi, but he remembered the files — he remembered the pictures and–

Looking at Reever like that made his breath catch in his throat somehow; filled him with a terrible shivering tension of–  of–  not-right.

Komui rose from his seat again at that thought, sad, the tiniest bit hesitant as he stepped forward, without much thinking about it; closed his hand around Reever’s to steady it; wrapped his other arm around the man’s side loosely, leaned his chin against Reever’s shoulder.

It seemed like what he ought to do.

Reever didn’t exactly respond to the hug, but he did lower his hand holding the whiskey back to his side. No way to take a drink with Komui standing against him like that anyway.

“Let’s… let’s not talk about this in front of Linali, okay?” he whispered, voice as unsteady as the rest of him. “We might give her… bad dreams.”

And then, suddenly, everything felt okay again.

Normal.

The two of them, complete messes, worrying about Linali.

That was the life Reever was used to, had once had, missed, wanted back. Unthinkingly, he dropped his whiskey to wrap his arms around Komui in turn, burying his face against the other man’s shoulder. He didn’t even pay attention when his bottle hit the ground and clattered to its side, spilling its contents onto the floor.

“You’re an old man now, aren’t you, Komui?” he managed weakly, voice muffled against Komui’s neck. “Thirty-two going on thirty-three, right?”

“…am I?” Komui murmured, twining his other arm around Reever’s back.  “I suppose you’re right…”  He’d stopped really keeping track of the time after a while; it had been too depressing.

“…But thirty-two’s not old,” he concluded matter-of-factly.  Because… he wasn’t old.  He ignored the smell of the alcohol as it spread over the floor, the scent that lingered on Reever’s body; he’d gotten used to it over the years, living with Cross.

“I guess not,” Reever relented. “I’m twenty-nine now. And sorry I ever called you old when you were here. But what I wouldn’t give to be Allen, you know? Bet you he won’t even notice when he starts sprouting white hairs.” He didn’t really know what he was talking about. Just…

“He got really tall. Linali too, even though you can’t really… tell right now. Well. Not really tall. Kanda’s still taller, but… taller than before. And…” Reever closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Nothing’s changed here, really. Nothing’s changed but… everything’s really different. You were holding this place together before. Who knew?”

That… seemed a very strange thing to say.  When zhu ren had…  Zhu ren had most certainly told him…

“You don’t have to be polite,” Komui replied quietly, smiling.  Zhu ren knew.  And Reever knew too, knew how awful he had been, how he’d done everything wrong.  He wasn’t fit for anything so important.  Zhu ren knew that.

“Polite?” Reever blinked, stepping back. He gave Komui a puzzled sort of frown, scratching his rather unshaven cheek. “Since when’ve you known me to be all that polite, Su–” He coughed a little, shaking his head to himself.

“…Komui?”

“I know I was a terrible excuse for a Supervisor,” Komui said, the smile turning apologetic as Reever stepped away from him.  It only seemed right to say it — he was sure zhu ren would have wanted him to.  “Sorry for… being a bother.”

“What… what are you saying?” Reever’s eyes widened. Even in his hazy, alcohol-soaked mind, he could hear the complete lack of… Komui in those words. Those weren’t Komui’s words, weren’t his thoughts. Komui knew he was a genius. Reminded them of it every day. Komui knew what he knew and knew they knew that he always pulled through for them. Everything else, all the slacking and whatnot, it was really just… what kept life interesting around here. Which they’d had none of for the last three years. For the Science Department, at least, Headquarters was just a place to work. They’d stopped being a family shortly after Komui left.

“When the–… when the hell did you decide you were a bad Supervisor? It’s not like–” Reever actually paused to laugh in disbelief, in self-mockery, shoving his toe into the side of the dropped whiskey bottle.

“Look at me, Komui. Just look at me. I drink a fifth of vodka for breakfast. My team is afraid to talk to me. It’s not like I’m doing a spectacular job myself. They miss you, you know that? They talk about how things were better here before you left. And, I–”

‘–I love spending all day looking for you and dragging you into your office. I love doing paperwork with you on the floor of Jerry’s kitchen. I love all of it.’

Reever took another step back, voice quiet.

“…you’ve forgotten.”

Komui blinked at him for a moment, at the horror in his voice.  Glanced down contemplatively, tilted his head to the side a little.  The thick black bangs shifted.

“I remember,” he murmured back, shaking his head slightly, a faint dreamy quality to his voice.  “How could I not remember?”  He folded his arms one over the other across his chest, hugging his elbows; paused for another moment or three with his brow furrowed in thought.  It made his head hurt a little and — there were badthings in there but he definitely–

“It kind of all… doesn’t all go together right, but.”  He blinked thoughtfully at the floor tiles.

Reever had to remind himself again. Deep breaths. Nice, deep breaths. He could run like a little girl to his office and drink everything in all his alcohol stashes later. That would be very difficult if he was to forget to breathe and die here. He was fairly certain souls couldn’t get drunk. Deep breaths.

He reached out, grabbed Komui by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, nice and calmly. He could do nice and calm. Sometimes he got it mixed up with yelling and screaming, which was why his team didn’t much like to talk to him anymore, but usually he could manage nice and calm when he tried. “What happened to you, Komui? And… and how can you say you’re a bad Supervisor if you remember? And– What did he do to you?”

Do you really think that will save you, Little Bird?

A shudder went through Komui’s body as he glanced down again.

He thought of the ginkgo tree and whether Linali remembered it.  Zhu ren and his brocade dragon and his — promise.

The house.

The gaping old hole, all covered over with misshapen blobs of plaster and still wide open underneath them.

“He made me,” Komui mumbled to Reever’s chest, with a single faint little laugh, all breath; feeling like he’d just gotten some joke, and it was a very bad one.

“Like he made me before.”

“Like what…?” Even if Reever hadn’t just consumed enough alcohol to poison half the Science Department, he still wouldn’t have understood what Komui was trying to say to him. He lacked the kind of twisted imagination required. “Before like–” All of the sudden Reever’s head was hurting again, much worse than before. The little laugh that had left Komui’s lips was still making Reever’s blood run cold.

“He hurt you.” It wasn’t a question, more an observation. The voice Reever used was soft, tight. Strained. And… off somehow. It carried a distinctly un-Reever-like undertone to it.

Komui just looked up at him, expressionlessly, not finding the words required a response.  Zhu ren was zhu ren.  Komui belonged to him; he would do as zhu ren pleased, endure what zhu ren pleased.  It was good to make zhu ren happy.  Because…  when he wasn’t, that was…  was bad.  It was…

He shivered a little again.

“Stay with Linali a little longer, Komui,” Reever instructed in a quiet, very calm and terribly nice voice. “Won’t you? She gets lonely. I have to go run a few little errands, but I’ll come back later with dinner. Does that sound good?”

Reever had the distinct feeling that he had barely touched the tip of the iceberg that was the damage done to Komui over the years, but all of that could wait. He had a few favors to ask for first.

Komui blinked at him again for a moment, seeming to shake off his thoughts of before; expression faintly confused, he nodded.

“I meant to stay anyway,” he said softly, looking back at her.

“I’ll be back,” Reever promised. He lingered slightly at the door. “You still like the same foods, right…? Mm, forget I said anything. I’ll bring you something Australian to try. I don’t think Jerry’s heart can take any surprises today.” And with that he left, stopping only to ask a nurse to find someone to clean up the mess on the floor. Then he straightened his coat, ran his fingers through his hair, and made his way to the passage that led to the Head Generals’ chamber.

Komui watched him go silently, and then turned to rummage through his bag for a moment, plucking something out before he returned to Linali’s bedside.  He slowly slid the bracelet over his wrist as he sat down.

“I never showed you what Reever gave me, did I?” he murmured, turning his gaze on her sleeping face again.

“This is our secret…”

- – -

They owed him and they knew it. Every last one of them owed him and all of them knew it. The lot of them had screwed up in the most embarrassing, unforgivable way possible. It was simple, really. They’d overruled his decision not to issue the new barrier-projectors the Science Department had been working on for the past few months. He had come before them, shown them the calculations, the charts, told them that none of it added up properly. He told them the Science Department needed more funds, needed more time. The Head Generals told him they didn’t have any, told him he was a sloppy drunk who couldn’t string together a coherent sentence most days, forget make sense of the research the rest of his team had done. He tried to explain to them that the new barriers, while theoretically stronger, would burn out in a matter of hours and that there was a 14% decay rate for the energy source that would make the boxes useless if carried unused for more than a few days anyway. They didn’t listen, they had the new boxes ordered, they had them issued.

And eighty-two Finders were dead before the week was out, before they recalled all of the faulty barrier projectors. So they knew. And Reever knew. And Reever had come and thrown the calculations and casualty reports at the floor of their shiny little meeting room and poured out a bottle of whiskey over them and then lit the whole mess on fire. Then left. The Head Generals had let him get away with it because, well, they had screwed up and they knew it.

So they owed him a favor, and when he came to them with it they whispered amongst themselves. It wasn’t an unreasonable request, really. They tried to please General Cross as much as possible because he was so difficult and hard to get ahold of, but it wasn’t impossible to twist his arm now and again. And it was true, the mission did need doing.

“Granted,” one of them finally sighed. “We will send General Cross Marian to survey Edo effective tomorrow morning.”

And suddenly, Reever was happy. He excused himself, showered, changed into his old lab clothes for the sake of nostalgia, and found his way to the kitchen, hands completely free of alcohol.

“Jerry!” he called, “Sorry ’bout earlier, mate. Just been having a bum day, I guess. Hey, you don’t think you could be convinced to make me some of my ma’s meat pies, now could ya?”

For a moment, Jerry looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

When Reever came back to the hospital room Komui was, to his great relief, still inside.  The former Supervisor was seated next to Linali’s bed in the same chair as before, looking rather animated as he alternated between talking to her and doodling on a pad of paper in his lap.  A slightly odd one-sided discussion was underway as Reever opened the door.

“–so if we say the function of x has a value of five, you can see that the angle of the plane will change in parallel to — Oh — Reever.”

“Don’t let me interrupt your sister’s math lesson,” Reever excused himself, even managing a smile as he stepped in with something inside what looked rather like a cake box. “I brought dinner. And coffee. It’s supposed to be meat pie, but I forgot when I gave Jerry my Ma’s old recipe that she always made enough to feed our family and half the rest of the village too. I just always assumed it was only huge in my boyhood memories… Anyway.” He opened the cake box to reveal a pie that was about three times the size of his head and at least six inches deep.

“Smells good, anyway. Guess it might be too much to hope that Linali’ll wake up in time to help us?”

“Ooh.”  Komui looked down into the box appreciatively for a moment, before glancing back at Linali, sighing a little.

And then he blinked.

“…Wait.  Did you say… coffee?”

“Oh yes. Jerry’s special blend. And I’m sure it’s not spiked because I asked for it. Had to help him put his eyes back in their sockets first, but I’m pretty sure he made the stuff he’s been saving because he’s trying to get me addicted to something that’ll attack a major organ that’s not my liver,” Reever mused, nodding slowly. “That being my heart. Maybe he’s secretly trying to kill me, come to think of it…” He held out a mug to Komui as he pondered this.

….and there were the sparkles.

“Oh, coffee~~~  I missed yoooooooooou~~~”

Komui accepted the divine nectar with all proper reverence, twirled his chair around for sheer happy, and came just short of actually hugging the mug to his chest.  Holding it under his nose to appreciate the sweet scent of oh the caffeine, he took a careful sip and sighed blissfully.

“My first cup in three years.”

“…really? No wonder you’re–” Nuts, he was going to say, but it was then that he noticed the familiar dark blue band around Komui’s wrist. He reached out to touch it with a puzzled expression before his hand went to the dark purple one that remained on his own arm.

“I… swear that wasn’t there before.”

Komui blinked at him confusedly for a second, and then glanced down at his own wrist.

“Oh.  That.”  He shook his head a little, taking another sip of coffee.

“It was in my bag.  I don’t wear it very much…  we’re always traveling and…  It could break.”

The thought sent a little shiver down his spine that he didn’t understand, so he drank some more coffee and paused a moment and attempted to ignore it.

“…I wanted to show Linali.”

“Ah, well,” Reever began, rubbing the back of his neck. He was smiling a little. “She already knew about it, sort of. We talked about it once, back…” The smile was gone and Reever looked troubled again. Guilty, even.

“…when we still talked.”

Komui’s head tilted to one side as he furrowed his brow at the other man a little, quizzical.

“Don’t you talk?”

He glanced over at his sleeping sister again.

“…You came to see her.”

“It’s easier to see her when she’s not…” Reever sighed heavily, shaking his head. Oh, the regrets. About everything. He had been petty and shortsighted and self centered and thought the world revolved around him and his miseries. He had pushed Linali away because she cared too much and didn’t like that he was drinking and looked so damn much like her brother that it hurt to even look at her. And then one day she’d started listening, started signing up for missions the moment they were available. She’d even hidden her paper trail. Not a single one of her dispatch notices or mission reports had gone through Reever’s desk. When she’d showed up half dead a few weeks ago, he hadn’t even realized she was on a mission. Which he would have, had he ever been sober for any length of time or bothered stepping out of his office to see how she was doing. He was a crap big brother. Every time she was left in just his care, things like this happened. Every single time.

“…reminding me how much I missed you,” he finished anyway, despite how deeply ashamed those words made him feel. “I didn’t take very good care of her while you were gone, Komui. I– I’m… sorry. I did a shit job of everything while you were gone.”

You can’t have done worse than me, Komui did not say, because it had upset Reever the last time and Reever… Reever should be happy.  Even the look on his face now just wasn’t right, that guilty shameful look.  It was…  just…  bad.

“Well.  It’s a busy job.”  He smiled a little as he took another sip of coffee.  He guessed they should really eat the food before it got cold…  “Supervising and being a big brother.”  Linali wasn’t hurt because of Reever anyway.  She’d been… she’d been on a mission.  That was what happened on missions.  You sent people out and they got hurt.  Or you sent people out without proper warning of an ambush and they died in piles.

The smile stayed on his face, a little unnatural, as he fell silent, continuing to nurse his coffee.

“It’s true,” Reever sighed, then seemed to cheer a little that at least Komui didn’t blame him. The new Supervisor offered the former Supervisor a slightly awkward smile of his own. “And poor me with no dedicated Head Officer to keep me in line.”

“Do you just do everything by yourself?”  Komui blinked at him incredulously.  He couldn’t fathom the idea of ever having done the job by his lonesome without Reever around…  but that was only to clean up after his constant irresponsibleness, so maybe it was just him.  Reever wasn’t bad like Komui.

“Yeah, but it’s my own damn fault,” he sighed, shrugging as he finally lifted the pie out of the box and began serving it for lack of anything better to do. “Johnny and Tapp tried to help. I guess I didn’t really let them.”

“Well…”

Reever looked… unhappy again.

“Maybe you should,” Komui said with a frown as he set down his mug to accept a piece of pie.

“Like hell,” Reever frowned as he handed over the first slice, shaking his head. “I’ll have you know I’m giving you your job back as soon as you’re up to it because, well. The coat doesn’t fit right. Because it’s yours.”

Komui looked at him for a moment.  Looked down toward the plate he was holding.

“…I.  Don’t think we’re staying,” he said in a murmur, blinking slowly down at his lap.  “Zhu ren doesn’t like Headquarters.”

“You’re not going with him,” Reever insisted firmly. “You’re not an Exorcist. You’re not a Finder. You’re one of us. And we pride ourselves in drinking coffee, making paper airplanes, and not leaving the Headquarters. In fact, you almost look tan, Komui. That really won’t do. We Scientists are known for our ‘never-see-the-light-of-day’ complexion, you know.”

Komui simply stared at the other man with wide eyes for several moments longer.

“Not… going with him?” he said in a small voice, shaky and patently disbelieving.

“No.” Reever’s gaze grew a little dark then, eyes narrowing. He quietly set his own slice of pie down before his hands had a chance to hold the plate a little too tightly. “You’re not. You’re never leaving with him again.”

Komui glanced downward slowly again, bangs hanging over his eyes, to watch his hands tremble in his lap for a little while.

He felt… sheer joy at the thought, away at last, completely alone, separated from his zhu ren, his master, his owner, the man who had created him, shaped him, made him into his own creature, knew him, loved him, controlled him –

The pain was so exquisite it felt almost physical.  Zhu ren had said — said he’d never leave Komui alone again — so it couldn’t really be — he wasn’t — possibly–

free now?–

He put a hand over his mouth and… tried to breathe around the… pain and the happiness and the pain.

He couldn’t believe it.  It wasn’t so easy.

“He’ll come to take me,” he whispered into his hand, trying not to shake too much.  Looked down at the food and…  wasn’t very hungry, really, all of a sudden, and set it down next to his mug of coffee.  Hugged himself around the waist, still bent over in the seat. “He always does.  He doesn’t give his things away.”

“No, he won’t.” Reever said this with absolute certainty, almost conviction. His appetite wasn’t affected in the least because for once since as long as he could remember, gloriously, he wasn’t worried about a thing. And he wasn’t even drunk.

“You don’t belong to him, and he’s not taking you away again. I made this mistake once, Komui.” He reached out to very lightly rest his hand on Komui’s shoulder, trying to reassure him. “Komui, look at me, okay?” he requested quietly. “Look at me. It’s Reever, yes? We’re scientists, aren’t we? We learn from our mistakes. We make very, very many of them, but we learn from every single one. And I made this mistake already. Never again.”

Komui looked at his earnest face, and didn’t know whether to be deliriously happy or to curl up in the corner and rock or to sit there and stare and do nothing until Cross came back for him.  He settled for taking a deep breath and beginning to cry with the sheer overwhelmingness of it all, sliding out of the chair to curl up on the floor beneath, futilely brushing long bangs out of his tear-streaked face as he looked away.

“…Komui?” Reever’s voice was an interesting blend of concerned and wary as he watched Komui– What had Cross done to him? Reever felt his hand twitch the way it always did when he wanted a drink that wasn’t on hand, took in a deep, shuddering breath to help make it pass. It would pass. It always did. It just came back later hurting worse. He stood from his seat and knelt down in front of Komui, trying to see if the other was actually crying.

“Is… something wrong? You–” No. Reever wouldn’t let that thought continue. If for any reason Komui wanted to go with Cross, it wouldn’t be because that was what made Komui happy. It would be because of whatever conditioning and brainwashing and whatever the hell else Cross liked to do to people in his spare time that Komui had endured the past three years.

Komui’s head shot up to meet Reever’s gaze for a moment, startled by his closeness; bangs sticking to his face with the tears.  He curled in on himself a little more as he looked away again.

“Zh…  Zhu ren…”  His voice was an unsteady mumble.  “If he…  If he goes away, then he — I–  What do–”

He paused to whimper for a moment as a violent shudder wracked his body.  Then, after a moment, he was still.

“He took… everything…”  Komui stared at the floor, his upset fading away into an unnatural blankness with disturbing speed.

“Everything…  He won’t give it back.”

“Everything–” Reever’s brow furrowed, his expression growing increasingly troubled. “What does that mean, Komui? I don’t understand. What did he take? What’s ‘everything’? K…Komui?” The way Komui calmed, the stillness, the emptiness, the complete lack of personality. Reever’s hand twitched again, closing around something he didn’t have. He swallowed. The children they used in the experiments that led to the Togaochi. Toward the end, before the Innocence finally devoured what little was left of them… that was what Komui reminded him of. As though Cross had eaten away at Komui’s personality until this was all that was left. Reever sucked in a breath, held it.

“Please,” he forced out, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Long nails bit into his palms. “Talk to me, Komui.”

“Everything… In here…”

Komui’s voice was a mumble, still staring off expressionlessly, clutching at the fabric of his shirt in the center of his breast as he sat up a little.

“He took it…”

His eyes slowly turned up to meet Reever’s, filled with a terrible, inorexable loneliness.

“It belongs to him…  I can’t get out any more,” he murmured blankly.

“Komui, you…” Reever found himself at a loss for words. As Chief Supervisor, it was practically a job requirement to feel helpless ninety percent of the time, but this was worse than anything he was used to. Because Reever was still a selfish man, and still would rather save Komui from ever feeling this way over saving the lives of anyone who worked around or below him. But there was nothing he could do and he didn’t even begin to understand what was really going on besides, didn’t know what Cross had done to Komui, didn’t know… anything, really. So he did the only thing he could. He reached out and very slowly pulled Komui into his arms. He closed his eyes, held Komui’s head to his chest, tried to ignore the tears stinging at his eyes.

“I love you, Komui,” he whispered because there was nothing else he could think to say, because it was still true, because it was all he could think about.

And he was so, so goddamned thirsty.

Komui didn’t know what to do or think or feel in that moment; was too overwhelmed for words with relief and pain and despair, with guilt even, for letting Reever touch him when he knew zhu ren might not–

But emptiness made it bearable somehow, so he clung to that, the little hole inside his chest where his heart used to be until zhu ren took it and made it his; and he stretched his arms around Reever’s waist slowly, leaned his face against the other man’s shirt, and thought about… absolutely nothing at all.

It was then, while holding Komui in his arms, that Reever came to realize today was really not much different from yesterday. He’d thought, for a moment, that he’d finally managed to escape his little personal hell but… no, today was no different from yesterday. If it had to be something, something different from yesterday, then all it was was worse. Komui was right here, right here in his arms. He was warm and solid and real, but it didn’t really seem to matter. He was right here, but he was still a million miles away.

Reever choked a little on the thought. He had never been a particularly philosophical man, much preferring reliable, definite mathematical answers, but… He couldn’t help but wonder where Komui was and why it was better than being here, with him. Then he stopped wondering, because he had been too miserable too long to even humor the idea of being good enough, of being important enough, of being worthwhile enough to make Komui stay against whatever it was Cross could or might have done. Reever simply lacked the sense of self-worth to entertain the notion.

Closing his eyes, he clutched tightly onto Komui and very quietly broke down for the first time in three years, for the first time since that day they had stood in the rain and made each other promises neither of them could keep.

….Reever was crying.

Something about that made the spot around the hole in Komui’s chest ache, so he curled up and held on just a little tighter.  Simply stared down at Reever’s shirt, listened to his unsteady breaths for a long while, until the sobbing finally slowed and the other man quieted at last.

And when Reever was finally too exhausted to cry anymore and everything stopped hurting and simply went back to aching as it always did, he slowly detached himself from Komui and stood. He stepped away. It would have been harder, he imagined, if Komui was actually in the room with him. But the other, aside from holding on to Reever in a way that may or may not have been instinct, was still distressingly vacant.

“I have to go do some things for a while, Komui,” Reever sighed, eyes looking anywhere but where Komui was. “You’ll watch Linali while I’m gone, right? You won’t leave her side?”

Komui nodded slowly, turning a little in his place on the floor to look toward Linali’s bed again.

- – -

Not too long after Reever left, someone else joined Komui in Linali’s hospital room.

Cross stepped in and, without a word, all but collapsed into the vacant chair Reever had been using, for once looking completely exhausted. Weary, almost. He sighed a heavy sigh before he turned his gaze on Komui and gestured for the other to come sit in his lap.

“Little Bird,” he called softly, “we need to have a talk.”

“…Zhu ren.”

A prickle of distress escaped back into consciousness and of a sudden Komui found himself upset again, worried, confused.  It was a different kind of upset than he’d felt before, away from zhu ren — he quickly rose to go and settle himself in the other man’s lap, looking up at Cross’s expression with wide eyes, almost afraid to say anything.

“I’m leaving.” Cross’s voice was blank, calm. A little irritated, perhaps, but for the most part he spoke as though he had no opinion on the matter at all. This was just how he was when something happened that made him angry enough to provoke him into violence. As long as he closed himself off until he was gone, he wouldn’t do anything he might come to regret. The situation was very delicate as it was, and there were so very many things that had to go right before everything could be okay again. He had to go to Edo, he had to finish his mission, he had to survive the mission, and he had to come back before anyone but him fixed his boy again. That would be a tragedy, were someone to mend Komui while Cross was gone, because it was something Cross wanted to do for himself.

If someone fixed Komui, Cross would simply have to break him again, and Cross so hated starting over.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” he continued, shaking his head, “but I will come back as soon as the mission is over. I’ll take Timcampy so if you… don’t do it unless you have to, okay? I hate taking calls when I’m away.”

Komui just kept staring at him.

Something was hurting terribly again; a stab of anxiety sent his heart and his breath racing as he covered his mouth with the back of one curled-up hand, looking very, very lost indeed.

Oh god — Reever — had he been right?

Zhu ren was going to, to go away and then Komui– he was–

“…I can’t come with you?” he said in a very small, slightly terrified voice.

“No,” Cross sighed, voice a little softer as he reached up to stroke Komui’s hair. “They’re sending me to Japan. It’s… dangerous there. There are many, many level three Akuma. I don’t–” Want to see you hurt like that again. Though he paused a moment to clear his throat, he looked distinctly strained as he did so. And the throat-clearing sounded suspiciously as though prompted by Cross choking on his words.

“…don’t want you to get killed. So you have to stay here.”

Looking about as overwhelmed as he felt, Komui shifted around to curl up against Cross’s chest, hunched over a little with the top of his head resting against the other man’s cheek.  He wrung his hands in his lap and whimpered a little and tried not to panic.

Without zhu ren, he — what was a Komui?  Zhu ren had all the pieces and if he went away — if he was gone then Komui — what was he — what did he do?  If zhu ren didn’t have him then — then who would?  Would he even work if zhu ren wasn’t there?  Or would he have to curl up in the corner like a puppet with its strings cut and wait until zhu ren came back to pick him up and string him again?

“You’ll really… really… for sure… come back, right…?” he asked, shakily.

“I’ll come back,” Cross promised easily. Because he always did. And as long as he wanted to, he always would. “Spend this last night with me, Little Bird. I leave in the morning.” A moment of silence passed between them as Cross ran out of things to say, but really, there wasn’t much use for words between them because Cross knew Komui inside and out.

And Komui, well. He didn’t really need to know anything at all.

“Oh. Komui, don’t cut your hair while I’m gone, okay? I like it this way. Don’t change at all. I want you to be exactly the same when I come back. Understand?”

Komui shifted his head a little to look up at the other man, expression slightly confused, but nodded easily.  Of course he didn’t really want to change.  Or cut his hair.  He wanted to make zhu ren happy.

“I understand,” he said, to make completely sure zhu ren knew, and snuggled against the man’s chest again; feeling scared still but slightly reassured.

When zhu ren said something it was almost always true.  So he would definitely come back.  He wouldn’t leave Komui alone to be… to be free.

His breath caught in his throat for a moment and, not really understanding why, he clutched at zhu ren’s shirt and tried to go back to being calm again.

“Something the matter?” Cross asked lightly, still contentedly toying with Komui’s hair. “Do you want me to leave Maria with you?”

Komui shook his head slowly, concentrating on the comforting, soothing feeling of zhu ren’s hand against his hair.

“Zhu ren should take Maria.  So she can protect you and you’ll come back safe,” he murmured.

“…come, Little Bird,” Cross abruptly smiled, scooping Komui into his arms before he stood from his seat. “Let’s let your sister rest and go back to my room. I want to be thorough with my goodbyes since I’ll be away a while.”

And for the most part, that was true. A few details were missing, such as how deeply and completely Cross felt his attachment to Komui just then. It was a very… child-like thing to say, but the meaning held. That Cross should take Maria so that she could protect him, ensuring his safe return. It was concern no one else in all of the Order showed him. The Head Generals told him not to die, occasionally, because it would be next to impossible to replace him. That wasn’t really concern. That was self-interest. Allen had long since convinced himself that his master would never die because that would be just too easy. It felt… nice. To know that someone would worry about him, no matter how much he didn’t need worrying over.

But for the most part, what he said was true. He wanted to have all of Komui one last time before he left, and whether he wanted it for no greater reason than his own physical pleasure or whether he wanted to hold what was utterly his and show the boy all the beauty that Cross’s dark little world could hold because Komui found new ways to steal his breath away, day after day after year after year… well — who was keeping score?

Komui just gave him a small, slightly vacant smile, and wrapped his arms around Cross’s neck with a quiet relieved sigh.

“Good night, Linali,” he whispered as they turned toward the door.

- – -

Reever had meant to go back.

Really, he had.

Wanted to stay by Komui all night, make sure Cross didn’t try anything.

Wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, somehow.

Wanted to bring him more coffee, see that smile again.

He had meant to go back.

The current Chief Supervisor was passed out on the floor of his office, somewhere between a mostly empty bottle of whiskey and a pile of Chinese-English dictionaries.

One was still open, its pages wrinkled with water damage that looked suspiciously like tears.

An entry was messily circled.

主人 [zhǔ rén]
master; host; lord; owner

In this chapter we’re steering quite rapidly into a much darker direction again. Our yaoi fangirl is totally showing… Also, considering how we end here, I feel I should probably assure you that this is not the last chapter! We’ve still got quite a long way to go, so I hope you’ll continue the ride with us through next week and beyond!

Chinese for this chapter:

Nai nai = grandmother

Ye ye = grandfather

Ch. 10. Our Promise, Such as it Was

Somehow, slow and steadily in a barely perceptible blur, time passed them by. Cross had never mentioned exactly how long he was planning on keeping Komui to himself; as the days passed into weeks, then months, and at last years, the ache of want for Linali and Reever and Komui’s home at Headquarters never faded. But one can only endure the same constant pain for so long; after a while, out of necessity, Komui began to shutter his precious memories away, save for those rare occasions — a tear shed on Linali’s birthday; a kiss blown to Reever on a rainy evening.

Cross had claimed that he would let go someday, but Komui saw no end in sight.

His hair had grown long; even pulled back in a ponytail, the night-black locks now reached straight to his buttocks. Cross would hear no talk at all of letting Komui cut it again — his bangs he trimmed surrepititiously when he could, but they were certainly longer and messier than they once had been, and he found himself constantly tucking them behind his ears, though it generally proved a futile effort. His body hadn’t seen a shred of Western clothing since they’d come to China, either, and though he missed it a little, mostly he had fallen back into the habit of dressing for Cross’s eyes and no other purpose without really even thinking about it.

It had been a little over three years, now, since the day and the night they had shared together in that little seaport town, after he’d been nearly killed; Komui still remembered it vividly. Remembered Cross holding him gently, whispering sweet words in his ear that had claimed to be lies, but held the ring of truth…

He didn’t know any more whether they had been or not; but he thought of that day often. Curled tight around the memory, and treasured it. Went back to it when Cross was cruel; when he caught Komui in his web of words and made him weep with confusion and feeling and the painful, awful truth; when he switched the sting of pain for the caress of pleasure until Komui didn’t know which way was up anymore; when he demanded absolute, complete obedience, no matter how humiliating. Komui didn’t know why, but remembering made him hate the other man a little less.

Not that he was always sure that was a good thing.

He had become Cross’s creature again, he knew somewhere in the back of his mind, though he rarely reflected on such things these days. Thinking about himself… the past, the future, the home he’d left behind, where they might go from here… Everywhere he might have turned offered nothing but pain; and after a while, it was simply too much to bear. Komui thought mostly in the present. What to do on a given day. What to wear. How to spite Cross. How to please Cross. How to avoid his punishment.

Some days he wandered through the back streets of the little Chinese towns they traveled through, and let himself think of everything, absolutely everything, and perhaps cried a little. But they were rare.

It was an uneventful, unmemorable day that the end came upon them. Even Cross did not see it coming, as the news of it came to him without warning during one of his routine outings alone.

“You’re sure?” he murmured with a little sigh, intently studying a small bruise on the skin of the apple he had just bought for a snack.

“Lord Tyki was furious,” the converted Akuma across from him answered, looking distinctly nervous at the memory. “She killed Eshi, you know. He was one of Lord Tyki’s favorites. Lord Tyki would ask him to paint for him somet–”

“That’s enough,” Cross dismissed. He dropped his apple with something like disgust and turned away from the Akuma, tucking his hands into the pockets of his Exorcist coat. “You’re dismissed.”

“I’ll… I’ll be going then, Master Cross,” the Akuma responded a little quietly, sounding almost stung. “It’s been an honor serving you.”

“I’ll see you off,” Cross sighed after what seemed like a long pause, half turning to aim Judgement at the Akuma’s chest. What could he say? The Akuma had once been a pretty girl, and Cross had a soft spot for the souls of pretty girls.

Once she was gone, Cross pressed his back against the wall of they alley and sank down, tilting his head up toward the sky.

“Well played,” he laughed softly to no one in particular, finding his cigarettes because he badly wanted a smoke just then. Clear his head.

Linali was in intensive care after single-handedly battling and defeating a level three Akuma. She had pushed her Innocence far past its breaking point in the process, had sustained massive internal injuries. Both of her legs had multiple compacted fractures and her Innocence was completely unresponsive. When Cross’s Akuma left the scene, she was being rushed to a local hospital for immediate surgery. Cross would have to call Timcampy later to find out if she’d survived the night. Very little of all that information mattered to Cross at all besides. It only meant one thing of any value to him.

It meant this was it. This was the end of this mission for Komui, this was where they parted ways. This was the expiration date. And, as Cross had promised to Komui that one night they had spent entwined in each other’s arms pretending to be anyone but themselves, he would let Komui go. Unconditionally, forever.

Cross shivered a little as he lit his first cigarette, pretended it was the wind rather than the thought. The thought of the nights to come, the nights he would spend without Komui but with any number of beautiful, breathtaking women. Perhaps more than one at once, perhaps as many as a bed could hold. And the knowledge that there was not a thing any of them or all of them at once could offer him that he would truly desire.

They didn’t have to go back right away. In fact, it was best if he did not tell Komui this news at all. What good would the knowledge do him? They were in China, weeks of travel away from the Order. Linali was probably being treated by Order physicians by now. Whether she lived or died, what use was telling Komui? No, Cross would keep the information to himself, keep Komui’s attention here and now, on him. He was going to make the most of the time they had left. And because he knew Komui always wanted, needed him back the moment he was gone, because this time he was never coming back, he would try a different sort of experiment. A different approach to his perfect piece of art.

Eshi had actually told him once, that sometimes he would burn his most inspired paintings. The ones he saw his very soul reflected in, he would burn them and watch them burn because nothing hurt more than destroying something you labored over to make perfect. Nothing hurt more, and there was no release quite like it. Cross had given him a skeptical look then, but… now it made sense, almost. He would spend these next few days taking Komui apart again, stripping away all the love and the need and the want to see what Komui looked like when taken down to only hate. If he could look into Komui’s soft, dark eyes and see nothing but hate glittering brightly back… he could walk away. The chains would be broken. They would both be free, Komui to soar and Cross to fall.

It seemed a fitting end for them.

Cross finished his cigarette and climbed to his feet, making a mental inventory of all he had to accomplish before he went back to find Komui. The calls he had to make. How he would have to find a flying Akuma to convert to take them back to England in a timely fashion. And a camera. He would want a camera before he returned.

The sun was setting by the time he walked back into their hotel room. He had only one thing to say to Komui, and he forced it out the way someone would throw himself off a cliff.

‘Throwing it into the fire’s the hardest part. Once it starts burning, though, there’s nothing to do but watch. And by then, because there’s nothing you can do but watch, the flames begin to look beautiful.‘

“Strip.”

He locked the door behind him.

Komui looked up at him from where he’d been sitting near the window, expression confused for just a moment, and then simply rose. Arguing was unwise when faced with a command delivered like that.

“…you were gone a while,” he tried quietly in a matter-of-fact tone, pulling off his shirt after he’d set his glasses down on the side table.

“I had business,” Cross answered shortly. The way he half tore off his jacket and threw it in the general direction of a wall spoke volumes about his mood. His gun holster followed shortly. He lifted his eyes to what Komui was doing then and shook his head, moving up to catch Komui’s wrist tightly.

“No. Put your glasses back on, Little Bird.”

Komui glanced up at him again and then, very carefully, lowered his gaze.

“All right,” he murmured, reaching back for them with his free hand. Usually Cross wanted them off, said he didn’t look as pretty wearing them. Komui wondered what he was supposed to be looking at tonight; but glancing up again a little apprehensively at Cross’s expression, decided it would probably be better not to ask.

“Good boy,” Cross whispered, petting the side of Komui’s face with the back of his hand. “Finish undressing and come to the bathroom with me.” Tonight, he was going to show Komui himself, show him every little weakness and all of his helplessness and uselessness and all those things Komui found ugly in himself. After all, it would be easier for Komui to hate Cross once he realized that everything he hated in himself was Cross’s doing. Cross wanted to give Komui one good, hard look at the worthless creature he had become, how the once-scientist was now simply the General’s little puppet, no good to anyone. Not even to Cross.

The soft caress sent a little shiver down Komui’s spine, and he wasn’t sure whether it was the good kind or not. He stepped out of his pants and his underwear and tossed those into the chair next to his shirt; he hesitated for a moment after that before reaching up to undo the hair tie at the nape of his neck, letting the wispy black mess fall down loose over his shoulders.

Nude and barefoot, a tiny knot of tension riding in his stomach, he departed with Cross into the bathroom.

Once there, Cross pushed him up against the wall opposite the bathroom mirror, pinning Komui’s wrists together above his head. He dragged the nails of his other hand down Komui’s side, then briefly paused to admire the red welts they left in their wake.

“A thought occurred to me today, Little Bird,” Cross mused as he brushed his fingers over the fresh welts, glancing up at Komui’s face as he spoke. For the first time in a long while, he was filled with the overwhelming desire to see tears there, to see Komui’s eyes red and his expression stricken and– Cross drew in his breath in a low hiss and sighed it longingly back out.

“Why don’t you… take a look at yourself in the mirror, Little Bird,” he continued, pausing now and again to kiss Komui’s jaw, trace the curve of Komui’s throat with his tongue. “Perfect, aren’t you? So well kept. Your skin is radiant, flawless. Your hair is soft and vibrant, healthy and smooth. You eat well, sleep well, dress well. I wondered… how your friends might be doing back home. What Chief Supervisor Reever would think if he saw you now. Would he see what I see? Something perfect, something beautiful?” A cruel little laugh left Cross’s lips at that and he dug his fingers into Komui’s back as he roughly pulled the former scientist closer.

“Or, I wonder, would he simply see what everyone else sees because they’re too simple to appreciate what I’ve made you into. You’re not fit to be a scientist anymore, Little Bird. You couldn’t take those long hours, can’t hold a calculation in your head because the most difficult things you think about these days are what to wear for me, what to buy for dinner, how wide to spread your legs. I wonder how he would look at you if he saw you now.”

Komui narrowed his eyes up at the other man, ignoring everything else for the moment — the tingle of his skin against Cross’s, the sting of the scratches on his side — to focus on the sheer insult. He didn’t know what game this was that Cross was playing tonight, but it was a stupid one. “I hardly had a choice but to let you change me,” he murmured, coolly, “but don’t think for a second you’ve taken anything away. I could walk right back into my job tomorrow and still be perfectly capable of everything.”

He did his best to ignore the way the little knot in his stomach tightened at the mention of Reever. Of home.

“And what could you do to begin with?” Cross sneered. “You should just keep to what you’re good at. Picking out clothes, looking pretty, seducing powerful men for what you need. Everywhere you are, Komui–” Cross paused a moment to bring his hand to Komui’s jaw, gripping his face tightly enough to bruise.

“Everywhere you are is thanks to me. I gave you your position as Supervisor. I took it away. In your thirty-some years of life you have accomplished nothing of value except that you managed to make yourself worth having to me. Unless you want to count what you’ve undone. Then we could at least say that you managed to ruin everything that was salvageable about Reever’s life. That is what you’re best at, isn’t it? Making yourself everything a man wants and exactly what he can’t have.”

“And whose fault is it that I’m not with him?” Komui snapped immediately. It was a little difficult to speak with Cross holding his jaw so tightly; the lower half of his face ached already. He paused, swallowing, the tension spreading from his stomach out into his limbs and across his body. His wrists were starting to hurt.

“I– could have gotten there without you,” he insisted, scowling with some difficulty. That hurt too. “I have my mind at least… Without people like me to do the research and the experimenting we wouldn’t even know how to repair Innocence properly. It would’ve taken much longer but I–” He squirmed a little in Cross’s grip, uncomfortably. “I could’ve gone to the East Asia branch, started from the bottom… They would’ve taken me…”

“Who are we kidding, Komui?” Cross laughed with a shake of his head. He released Komui and took a step back, folding his arms across his chest. “When you were Supervisor, you squandered everyone’s time and resources. The only reason you were never removed from your post was because the Head Generals were terrified of what I might do or not do if they removed someone I specifically appointed. The man you replaced would have turned in his grave if he saw the mess you made. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps if your team was not always cleaning up your messes and chasing you down for paperwork, they might actually invent something of use now and then? You might have gotten as far as a general researcher in the East Asia branch, but they would have never gone through the trouble of having you sent all the way to England to help file papers.” At this, Cross smiled coldly and reached out to touch Komui’s cheek.

“All you have is your pretty face, Komui. It’s all you’ve ever had.”

Komui stumbled a little as he was released and ended up slumped back against the wall, pulling himself back up to his full height on knees that, for some reason, didn’t quite want to work.

It had never in the slightest occurred to him that Cross might have arrived to take him away three years back because he found Komui incompetent.

Though it had, in fact, occurred to him occasionally that perhaps he ought to have taken the job more seriously. But he’d always thought that as long as they came through when it counted, he and his people deserved a break once in a while…

You made this boy a promise to let him die with his brother and you broke it. You know you fucked it this time, don’t you, Supervisor?

…even if he did… maybe… make mistakes. Occasionally.

Ge ge, please try to keep your robots a little smaller! I don’t think HQ could survive another Komurin!

Maybe a little more than occasionally.

“…but I helped while I was there,” he said quietly, looking pale, a little stricken as he stared Cross in the face. “Innocence repair techniques… the communication systems on the Golems… I– of course the idea came from Timcampy, but, not everybody can be a brilliant sorcerer like you and make their own…”

He swallowed again. “…It wasn’t like I was just sitting around the whole time.”

“You say that as though you turned in your homework late or left your project for the science fair until the last minute,” Cross scoffed with another disappointed shake of his head. “You’re not a child anymore, Little Bird. You’re thirty-two. You held a key position in the Science Department. There is a war going on. When you make mistakes, no one slaps you on the wrist. You don’t get marked down. When you slack off, no one scolds you or grounds you. There’s no time to. When you slip up, people below you die. But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? As long as you’re with your sister.”

“You’re right, I’m not a child.”

Komui’s expression had tightened into a slightly shaky glare. “You really think I didn’t know all that? You really think Linali is my only reason?”

He shook his head. “I lived there for–” He stopped for a second in his surprise, took a deep breath. He’d said… he’d said ‘lived.’ Past tense. “For nine years. You know I didn’t care about the Order’s work when I first came to you and I don’t deny it. I just wanted to get to her. But I — I care about what happens to them, I do — all of them– How could I not?” he demanded incredulously. “Nine years living with them and working with them and watching them go off to fight… You can’t really think I take my people’s lives so lightly? I–”

He paused to breathe again, looking profoundly uncomfortable.

“Of course I’ve made mistakes, I’m just human, but I… it’s not like I’ve been trying to get people killed. I know I can’t do that much,” he added, voice a quieting a little as his eyes drifted downward, “but I swear… what was in my power… I…. …..everything…”

“It sounds almost as though you are trying to convince me that all the breaks you took, all the times you made a hobby out of skirting your duties… that all of it was justified? Don’t make me laugh, Little Bird. The sight of you is ridiculous enough as it is. You should be on your knees, begging forgiveness from all those you sent to their deaths and then walked off to enjoy coffee with your sister before their ashes even cooled.” Cross pause to take another step back, gesturing to the floor. “In fact, that’s exactly what you should be doing right now. Go on, Komui. Tell Daniel you’re sorry he bled to death all alone, miles away from the only person in the world who cared if he lived or died. Tell everyone in the infirmary you’re sorry for the shit day they had when they had to stitch Nathan’s arms back together, because unlike your sister he knew well enough to go from wrist to elbow.” He paused to take a handful of Komui’s hair and roughly jerk him forward.

“Didn’t know about that, did you? It’s been three years, perhaps you just forgot?” he hissed into Komui’s ear. “It looks like I keep better tabs than you. Maybe this all happened while you were napping.”

Komui was staring at him now, eyes wide, gone paler than before. He was trembling just a little.

“The infirmary reports… They don’t go through me unless somebody dies…” he mumbled, expression turning inward as his gaze slipped slowly down. He barely seemed to notice the pain in his head, the way Cross had him hung by his hair.

Grip still tight, Cross cast him violently to the floor. Komui sucked in a gasp as he slammed down on his shoulder against the hard tiles, curling in on himself a little.

“Just admit it. To yourself. To me. To everyone. I want you to admit that you’re useless to them and only good for what I keep you for. And then I want you to crawl over there and bend over the sink so you can do what little you are good for, and I want you to keep your eyes on the mirror so that you can see yourself, what you’ve become. What you’ve been reduced to. What you always have been. Then you should ask yourself if this is the kind of man who should ever be Supervisor of the entire Black Order.”

Komui pushed himself up onto his hands and stared at the floor for a long moment, breathing hard, the falls of dark hair completely obscuring his face.

“…I’m not useless,” he muttered at the floor, voice shaking a little, sounding not precisely sure of it himself. When he looked up at Cross, however, his eyes were hard.

“And I may be your– Your whore–” His voice broke a little on the words, but his gaze remained fixed on Cross’s face with as much strength as he could muster.

“But that’s your failing, not mine.”

Cross’s breath stopped at Komui’s words.

They stung, oh, they were painful to Cross in ways the General couldn’t express. They halted his breath and made his chest tighten, made his pulse loud in his ears with… shame, really. They were nearly enough to bring Cross to his knees.

And yet.

Somehow, somehow… Cross found himself strangely proud. He hadn’t thought Komui had it in him to use that against him. It was beautiful to behold, as Eshi had promised him. Cross would have to find Theodore sometime to pass it on.

For once, Cross looked away first, turned his head so that all that was left for Komui to see was the masked half.

“Get some rest.” His voice was blank, carefully modulated and well-schooled the way he was unable to do with his expression. He knew that because he could still feel the burn of Komui’s words against his neck. “We leave early tomorrow.”

He took his time on the way back out, walked leisurely out of the bathroom, found his Exorcist coat, pulled it back on. He did all the buttons back up, found a cigarette, lit it. But when he left, when he finally walked out the hotel room door, it was in such a daze that he left his Innocence behind.

He wandered the dark streets alone.

In the hotel room, meanwhile, Komui did not make a move from where he was crouched on the bathroom floor until he heard the front door click open and shut. Then he uncurled from his place and, one hand on his throbbing shoulder, rose unsteadily to his feet. Cross’s onslaught had ended as suddenly as it had erupted; he felt a little dazed with the shock of it all, not to mention everything that had been said in the short span of the ordeal itself.

…He wasn’t incompetent. He knew that. He — he’d always been… useful to the Order… hadn’t he?

Had he really?

Three years ago, when they’d lost a hundred fifty comrades to Suman’s betrayal in the space of an eyeblink… if someone more responsible than Komui had been at the helm, would they have been able to prevent it? Did the Order… did they really need him at all? If Cross were to let him go right this instant, would they even take him back? Had everyone just given him up for dead and moved on by now?

Scientists weren’t like Exorcists, after all. They were replaceable.

He walked around the little room in a daze, naked, his shoulder and his side and his jaw throbbing with dull pain, hair tangling around his face as he went about collecting his scattered things and shoving them into their bags. Cross had said they were leaving early; for all Komui knew the man wouldn’t give him time to pack in the morning.

His clothing from earlier was forgotten on the chair, however, as he padded over to the bed to set his glasses on the side table and collapsed into it, feeling somehow very exhausted.

He curled up into a tight little ball under the covers as he lay there, and eventually fell asleep, alone in the bed with the light still burning.

- – -

Cross came back early the next morning, with the sun still cradled low in the horizon. He was quieter than usual, only coming in far enough to wake Komui and signal toward the door. He picked up Judgement on his way back out and left Komui to gather their things while he went to the desk to check out, waiting for the other to join him in the lobby.

When Komui arrived, Cross shoved a little package of moon cakes into his hands for breakfast. Or good luck. Or health. Or something. Cross didn’t pretend to understand strange Chinese holidays. It was Moon Festival day or something and they were selling these, so… Whatever. He was a foreigner. He didn’t have to know. Anyway, he started out the door.

Komui blinked down at the food in his hands with a surprised, curious expression, glancing up at Cross again after a moment as he followed the other man outside. Truth be told, all things considered he’d almost forgotten there was a holiday coming up — he spent the majority of his time either with Cross or sitting around by himself waiting for Cross, after all, and despite his faculty with the language, the Exorcist wasn’t exactly a fount of knowledge on Chinese culture; Komui himself, after living in the West for so long, had yet to quite get back into the groove of the calendar of his birthplace. Which was sad, really; he’d only been gone for nine years…

…the way Cross had handed them over had almost seemed something like an apology.

“…Thank you,” Komui allowed, quietly and neutrally, as he made to pop one of the cakes into his mouth. After the previous evening, he wasn’t sure he was ready to really talk to Cross again yet for a bit, if he could avoid it.

Which was just as well, really. Cross had tried speaking to the lady selling the moon cakes and for once had actually stumbled over his words. She’d called him ‘cute’ and given him an extra box of moon cakes for free, but even free snack goods weren’t worth the public humiliation of sounding like a stupid white man. Cross was obviously not himself yet and until he was a proper jerk again it was probably for the best that the two of them simply didn’t talk. Otherwise Cross might change his mind about letting Komui go.

It would all be easier once they were at their next destination anyway. Cross lit a cigarette to occupy his mouth and headed toward the little path leading into the mountains, toward the long-since abandoned village he had not visited since his first tour of China. It had been once destroyed by Akuma, rebuilt by the survivors, and then abandoned when those who remained discovered that living next to the place their brothers and sisters and wives and friends had turned to ash right before their eyes was harder than they could have imagined. It was where this all began, and it seemed fitting to Cross that it was there that everything should come to an end. Mildly, he wondered if Komui would realize what going back there truly meant.

Komui didn’t quite register where they were going until they passed the big ginkgo tree about three miles out of town.

His feet stopped without really thinking about it; he turned to stare up at the old tree almost contemplatively, bag hanging from his hands, Cross forgotten for the moment. It was a very special tree. They’d picnicked under it often when he was younger; sometimes — his hands clenched the bag’s handles a little harder, thinking of what was inside — sometimes this had also been their spot for moon-watching during the festival, before nai nai and ye ye had passed on. He thought he remembered even an infant Linali coming out here with them once, wrapped up in a blanket and staring at the odd-shaped leaves with wide, curious baby-eyes.

“Cross?” he murmured quietly, calmly, without turning around.

“Why are we here?”

Cross didn’t answer at first, stopping as well, remembering how much younger he had been then. Reckless, even. He still was to an extent, but back then he had regarded fighting Akuma like a game of cat-and-mouse and if a few miserable people who lived in a sorry spit of a village died, who would miss them? He sighed a long sigh and shook his head, continuing up the path to Komui’s childhood home.

“To spend the night.”

“…I’d really rather not.”

Komui kept looking around as they walked up the road, because, well, he couldn’t not look. It was all, by and large, just as he remembered it: not as he remembered it from childhood, but from the last time he had seen the place before walking out to find his way to Europe. Which was to say that, despite the intact sections of fence and the few buildings they passed as they drew closer to the town proper, it was nigh-on as quiet as the grave. After their parents had died — well, Komui had been just barely sixteen, and having been studying as a scholar was not trained in any particularly useful trade; they hadn’t exactly had the money to up and leave, and so for the year until Linali was taken away he’d looked after her by himself, living in a neighbor’s abandoned house that the fleeing family had been only too happy to lend them, doing odd jobs and trying to figure out how he was going to support his family from now on. Over the months, they’d watched neighbor after neighbor move away until the ghosts began to take over the town nearly entirely; eventually even the old apothecary who babysat Linali for him some days had given up and moved onto greener pastures, ones less tainted with painful memories.

Komui’s plans had been much the same; they’d just… gotten cut short a little.

Cross had no answer to Komui, because they both knew that if Cross wanted to stay the night here it was exactly what they would do. Instead, he continued to lead Komui toward his old home, stopping only once they were on its doorstep.

“This is it, isn’t it?” he asked, nudging the door open. He had never actually been inside before, though he had come as far as here searching for Linali. A part of him had always been… curious, but not enough to have visited here on his own.

“I was surprised when I came back here to find your sister,” he murmured, almost to himself as he stepped in and looked around. “It wasn’t nearly as damaged as I thought it would have been, considering it took me three days to finally kill that Akuma. It’s a good house.”

Komui stayed outside standing on the front steps for as long as he thought he could get away with. Then he took a very deep breath, and stepped over the threshold.

It was dusty and quiet inside. There was still faded, knocked-over furniture scattered here and there, some lying shattered into pieces, some intact; when they’d left he hadn’t really touched much of anything in the house, just grabbed those items they’d needed and gotten out. He wandered past the hearth; past their low table, cracked into two or three parts and dark with rot; detachedly, barely knowing what he was doing at all, he drifted over toward a large section of the wall painted in globs of mismatched plaster.

“Why in the world did they repair this…?” he mumbled to himself, reaching out a hand almost instinctively to feel at the edge. The wall, too, was covered in dust.

He wouldn’t really have minded if they’d left the gaping hole.

Cross observed him in silence for a little while, then wordlessly left for the bedrooms upstairs. It wouldn’t be hard to find Komui’s. Cross just didn’t want to be there right then, as much as he enjoyed observing the inner workings of Komui’s mind. As a deeply selfish man, Cross did not regret how Komui had come into his life because at this point it was fathomless to him what he would done with all that time over the past fifteen years without Komui as a constant for him. Work, possibly. The thought alone was worth a shudder. So he did not regret the events that had taken place, most of it directly due to Cross himself, but… still, he couldn’t help but wonder. What Komui’s life would have been like had Cross Marian never been part of it. Happy, probably. Dull. Happy and dull. Which wouldn’t have been a bad thing, really. For Komui, anyway.

With a soft sigh, Cross looked around the second floor until he found Komui’s old bedroom and sank down onto the bed, tired. He found his little box of free cakes and nibbled on one, then decided he liked it. It reminded him of chocolate, a little. Not the taste, just… the way it made him feel a little better. Chocolate, or wine, or cigarettes. One other thing made him feel better when he was this sort of tired.

As he popped the rest of the moon cake into his mouth, he hoped Komui would join him soon.

At some point as they’d wandered up the road into his home village, Komui had had the presence of mind to wonder just what Cross hoped to accomplish by bringing him to stay the night here; but by this time conscious thought had been subsumed nearly entirely into memory. He roamed the halls of the little house in silence, as comfortable in the place as though he were one of its ghosts. He hadn’t thought of the house in years, but now that he was here, everything seemed to return to him like second nature — there was where their mother had sat in the mornings nursing Linali; there was the tiny burn spot on the floor near the hearth where someone had dropped a coal; there was his favorite window for studying under…

Eventually he made it up the stairs, through the halls, into the bedrooms. The house was as sturdy as Cross had said; despite the odor of disuse and decay and the rats’ noses he saw poke once or twice out of the walls, it was all still standing, still… far too much as he remembered it.

At last he padded into his own room to close the dusty door behind him, leaning back against it a little, looking around at a familiar mess he hadn’t seen since he was sixteen. He’d left a few books in here, some of his early tinkering attempts at inventions; they sat around moldering atop the desk and in its chair, along with a few yellowed papers and scrolls scattered over the floor.

And his bed had Cross in it.

In the dimness of the room, Komui’s eyes were pure jet, no end to their depths as he slowly turned a half-lidded gaze toward the Exorcist. His arms snuck slowly around his waist, hugging himself a little.

“If you wanted to get back at me, it worked,” he murmured blankly.

“What now?” Cross asked, feigning innocence as he finished another moon cake. “We were passing through and I was curious to see where you grew up. That’s all.” He gave himself a moment to be glad then, that this was getting through to Komui as well. Because really, it would be best if Komui associated even the mere memory of General Cross Marian with nothing more than pain and hate and humiliation. That would hopefully encourage him not to think of Cross at all. Then maybe they could both move on from their decade-and-a-half-long mistake.

Komui just stared blankly at him for a few moments longer before moving from his spot, walking over slowly from the doorway to silently seat himself on the floor next to the bed. He pulled his legs in close as he leaned back against the bed’s side.

“…I wish Linali was here,” he mumbled, more than half to himself. “She was so young… she won’t remember it very well.”

“Bring her yourself sometime,” Cross shrugged. The words slipped out before he realized what he was saying and he stopped speaking to contemplatively munch on another moon cake. He wasn’t even hungry or anything, really. He just needed something to do with his mouth right then that didn’t involve words coming out of it. He was already talking to Komui as though both of them knew and accepted that Komui would be going home soon. It was true to a point, he supposed. He had already resigned himself to Komui’s leaving, already begun the process of letting him go. He just hadn’t realized how quickly he could adapt to the idea. It had been three years, after all, three years of having little but each other on top of the three years they’d had in the beginning. Six years alone with someone. That was… definitely something like commitment, wasn’t it? Not to mention the visits that had come in the middle, no matter how infrequent or far between.

Komui barely seemed to register Cross’s words in and of themselves, let alone noticing what they implied. He stared off toward the other side of his room with a bleak hopelessness weighing down his soft features, crossing his arms over his curled-up knees to lay his chin atop them. A single wisp of hair flicked around his face as he breathed, eyes half obscured by long, messy bangs.

For a while, Cross contented himself with watching Komui suffer because it was a pastime he never tired of. Watching Komui in general was good, actually, but his suffering was one of the highlights. He watched the little nuances of Komui’s expression, the soft, despaired sighs of air that were his breaths. Cross had always thought of Komui as one of those people. Someone who was radiant when happy, making those around him want to take him home and keep him happy and enjoy that beautiful smile of his forever. And, at the same time, was someone who was even more heart-stopping when sad, the kind of person who inspired others to take him home and break him down more and more so that he would never stop being exquisitely anguished. Nothing complimented Komui’s eyes more than tears, after all.

…but maybe that last part was unique to Cross.

Eventually, though, Cross grew bored and restless of simply watching Komui and finally slid off his Order coat to lay over the dusty bed, having very little desire to touch the aged sheets. Not his problem much, anyway. This was as far as he usually disrobed.

“Komui,” he called lightly, “come and sit here.” He gestured to his lap as he spoke.

Komui swallowed once, glanced up at him blankly for a moment; but even here, returned to his parents’ house, in the throes of the deepest hurt, his first instinct was to obey Cross. He rose a little jerkily after another second had passed, seating himself sideways in Cross’s lap, leaned forward just a little to stare down at his hands resting in his own. He didn’t lean against Cross’s chest as he often would have, still seeming very far away.

Cross said very little as his hands found the buttons at Komui’s collar and tugged them loose, perhaps murmuring Komui’s name to himself now and again, perhaps commenting that Komui’s skin was still as soft as it had been, back then. But for the most part, he said nothing at all as he slid Komui’s shirt free of his shoulders and leaned down to kiss his neck. It didn’t really matter to Cross that Komui was distant, that his attention wasn’t in the here and now. Cross could still take what he needed, and besides… Komui would have to be much further from him than that before they were through.

Komui shivered a little as Cross’s lips found his skin. Sucked in a breath, pulled his legs up the dusty bedsheets he’d left unmade the day his parents died; didn’t go as far as crawling off Cross’s lap perhaps, but turned his head away, one hand wringing the material of his pants.

“Please… not here,” he begged quietly. His voice shook only a little.

Cross’s only response to that was to press another kiss against Komui’s throat, sucking gently. He trailed kisses down to the thin line that was Komui’s collar bone, then back up again. He pulled away briefly, only to take Komui’s shirt by the hem and lift it over his head, discarding it thoughtlessly to the floor. Then he ran his hands along Komui’s exposed chest, finally sliding them around Komui’s waist before he lowered his reluctant partner onto his back against the Exorcist coat spread across the bed. He found one of Komui’s hands with his own and twined their fingers together, holding on tightly as he stole Komui’s breath away with a demanding, near bruising kiss. Then he pressed his face against Komui’s neck, even as his free hand traced down the side of the younger man’s hip, then his thigh.

“Go ahead then,” he hissed into Komui’s ear. “Stop me.”

Komui pulled his fingers out of Cross’s grasp with a jerk to the side, rolling away from Cross a little but not bothering to try for any further — there was no point, really. If he tried to get up, Cross would just push him down again. In the unlikely event he escaped, ran straight out the door and kept running — Maria would have him dragged back within ten minutes. A mere human — a weak, skinny, useless little piece of nothing like him — had no recourse against the likes of Cross Marian.

“You know I can’t do a damn thing,” he responded to the cruel taunt with voice trembling, eyes squeezed shut, breath suddenly coming ragged. “Please… Anywhere but…. I— I can’t–”

His eyes caught on a dusty, faded wall hanging, a pair of playing tigers; one that nai nai and ye ye had given him for his birthday as a child. The sentence ended in a little sob.

“Shall we try your parents’ room then?” Cross asked lightly, mocking almost. “Or your sister’s? Should we move to the yard? But I like it here, Little Bird. It reminds me of the first night you were with me. You…” He pulled Komui’s glasses away from him, set them on the bedside table. Then he brushed the back of his hand against Komui’s face.

“You’re over thirty now, Komui Li, but you still look so much the same as then.”

Komui stared up at him, yet-unshed tears turning his dark eyes into storm-rocked black pools, disheveled bangs fanned around his face. Stared up at Cross. Still… unfathomable, after all these years. Still beautiful. Still cruel. Still… more human than human, the man who’d taken Komui’s very self from him and bent it into his own image, fold by tiny fold until at last Komui had barely known the inside of his own head anymore.

Komui was afraid of this man, so very afraid. He despised this man, this autocrat who used him like a plaything and locked him back in the toybox when he was done, this man who had stolen him away from his home, kept him from everyone he –

He–

he—

every breath, every touch, every word, the snide ones and the soft ones; every embrace, every kiss, every caress of his hair, every night they curled up together, every glass of wine, every goddamn fucking order– he—-

Komui felt much the same as then, too. If perhaps a little more.

His parents had died, sixteen years ago, about five or six feet below where they were lying. His father had pushed Komui out of the way; Komui had landed on the floor with his ankle twisted under him. It had hurt. He had limped for a while.

His parents had looked so surprised when they turned around, and the stars began to pop out across their faces.

“Please– Cross–”

He whimpered and closed his eyes, loosing the goddamned tears to roll down into his bangs.

“There, there,” Cross crooned cruelly, brushing the tear trails away with his thumb after a moment’s admiration, mostly to feel the warm dampness between his skin and Komui’s. “That’s a good boy. Let it all out, Little Bird.” Even as he spoke, he continued to trace his light touches across Komui’s body, brushing teasingly along all the places Cross knew Komui loved to be touched. He wanted Komui to feel everything. Cross wanted the other’s emotions to be raw and open and painful beyond words, wanted to give him all the pleasure and pain in the world. He wanted to give Komui everything, wanted to give him the tenderness only someone who loved him could give him and to show him the carelessness and brutality of someone who hated him. And perhaps once everything was his, once all of this belonged to Komui, perhaps then he could let go of the senseless world that was theirs alone. Cross could only hope, because even now as he kissed away Komui’s tears, he was tempted to hold on and never let go.

But he had promised, the day he had spent being anyone but himself. He had promised, and so these chains would have to go. He would have to tighten them and tighten them until they finally broke.

“You won’t fight this, Little Bird,” he continued softly. “It isn’t that you can’t. You’re mine. You don’t want to fight this. Because if you really, really, really,” Cross interrupted each repetition with a kiss to the side of Komui’s neck, “wanted to end this, I might be persuaded to let you.”

“I want to. I want to!” Komui protested, shaking badly, voice breaking into a hysterical half-shout for a second with his eyes squeezed shut. From his expression alone, he could have been in actual physical pain. “Please… We can’t… You…”

Tears were still streaming down his face as his eyes shot open again to stare up at the ceiling, breathing ragged and erratic, heartbeat racing; he just stared upward for a long moment with an unsteady gaze, mouth working vaguely as though he were trying to say something and couldn’t quite get the words out–

“You can’t have this place too.”

His voice broke around the words, coming out half whisper and half sob and nearly unintelligible.

Everything else is already yours but this– only this–

please——-

Cross was rather like a poison. Even he was coming to realize this now, upon hearing Komui’s words. A taint that had seeped into every aspect of Komui’s life. Cross bled into everything he touched and marked it as his own, and this decrepit building was, at least in Komui’s mind, the only thing in the world that was still clean. It… it seemed a little too unfair to leave Komui, in every sense of the word, with nowhere left to go away from Cross. Even Cross had places he could go when he wanted to be away from himself. He decided then that he could grant Komui this last wish.

But then again, he was already here. What harm could it be to stay just a little longer and enjoy the sound of Komui’s voice so choked with pain?

“What was that…?” he asked softly as though he hadn’t heard. “You have to speak up, Little Bird. I don’t think I heard you right.”

Komui stared up at him despairingly. Didn’t even know if it was worth trying anymore.

“Please– this is— this is— My home– my childhood–“

He sucked in little gasps of air, chest tight, throat tight, everything– he felt like he couldn’t breathe–

“All the good things— the really truly good things– my– My family and Linali and the cat and my stupid old inventions and the creaky stair and, and that ginkgo tree and– and– I– If I–” A long, gasping sob that he couldn’t quite suppress.

“If I think of here and I can’t remember them– if I think of, of home and– and all I can see is you and us and, you, fucking me and not, not home, all the things that– that— then— Then I—”

He couldn’t make the rest of the words come out, trailed off trying to speak and sobbing quietly as his wavering gaze focused erratically on Cross’s face.

The… the very idea of — of losing that, of losing Home, to anyone or anything, giving up the only… it… he…

It sent dark thoughts racing through his mind, dangerous ones, like he hadn’t had in years. Thoughts he’d never wanted to have again.

Much different thoughts were running through Cross’s mind. They were calm. Detached, almost. As though they were someone else’s thoughts and Cross was a mere amused spectator. It occurred to Cross somewhere between them that his entire problem with, well, everything, could be explained with the realization that he might actually just hate himself. But he loved himself, loved the way he looked and the way he smiled and the way he moved and the way people fell to his feet. He loved all the little mannerisms he had. He loved his taste for good wine and his addiction to beautiful things. He loved always getting what he wanted. But, if he was perfectly honest with himself, a man wasn’t really the sum of his parts, was he? If he found someone else as pretty and malleable and corruptible as Komui, someone who cried as prettily and loved as sweetly and had all the same quirks and habits and everything else, it still would never quite be the same, would it? So it was entirely possible that Cross, in fact, completely hated himself and simply didn’t realize it yet.

His thoughts were nothing short of evil, actually. That if this plan had come to him before the news of Linali’s injury, if he had done this with no intention of ever letting Komui go, he might have finally been able to completely break him. Take everything that Komui was and own it, own him the way the Earl owned the souls of Akuma. Bound and tormented and beautiful beyond expression. He wished that he had known, wished he had that sort of foresight. He would have so dearly liked to see that, to give Komui nothing left in the world but the man who owned him.

If only Linali had died.

It tempted him, tempted him so very badly. To turn Komui onto his stomach and take away all that was left of him. To cradle Komui close and listen to him cry himself to exhaustion and finally fall asleep with tear trails drying to his face. Cross wanted to have it so badly he could actually feel himself ache for it, feel his hands tremble as he fought the urge to take Komui’s wrists and pin him down until his pale skin bruised.

“Then what?” Cross pressed, existing at that moment in a place of sweet torment. He knew he needed to stop, knew he had to get off Komui now and walk away or drag him away somewhere else and push him against something and have him that one last time. He knew he had to stop before he was too tempted and gave in to the desire to break the promise he had made. But he didn’t want this to end yet, didn’t want to let Komui’s pain come to an end. It was so pure and there and just– Cross could almost taste it, could almost touch it, felt closer to Komui at that moment than he had ever felt before.

“I’ll die.”

The choked-out words were barely recognizable through Komui’s sobs. He stared past Cross’s face up toward the ceiling again, expression pained, afraid, weary. So weary, bone-deep exhausted. Resigned. Despairing.

“I’ll… I’ll die.”

Because, well, he would. One way or another.

Cross could actually feel his resolve crumbling and in that moment he wanted to be weak more than he had ever before in his life. He was more himself than he had ever been, and he knew he should resist but after hearing those sweet, sweet words leave his most precious possession’s lips, he no longer had any will to continue to hold back. He wanted so deeply to have Komui, have all of him. Hold all of the broken fragments of Komui in cupped hands and clutch them to his chest. This was what he had been searching for his entire existence. This feeling, this… kind of closeness with someone. This intensity.

Komui, I’m sorry.

The apology was unspoken, but Cross held it in his eyes the moment the last of his self restraint left him. Then it was gone, and he smiled a slow, deliberate smile. He touched his fingertips to the side of Komui’s face and forced his gaze back.

“Do you really think that will save you, Little Bird?” he breathed out, lifting one of Komui’s hands to brush his lips along the back of it. Then the smile turned into a wide, sadistic sort of grin and he gripped Komui’s hip with one hand and placed the other flat against his abdomen, turning Komui to press him face-down against the mattress.

“Cross–”

Komui could barely speak, could hardly think straight; the room around him and Home and Childhood and the whole world, they flipped upside down all at once and all he could think was he didn’t understand; that he’d thought– He’d thought Cross—

somewhere

sometime

—-he could remember– he could think of– of– Being held. Soft words. A promise–

A rubber band bracelet hiding in his pack so it wouldn’t be broken.

Her face.

Home.

Home was— was—-

Cross’s hand twisted around a fistful of Komui’s hair and jerked his head back, jarring away all thoughts. He pulled Komui’s head back enough to touch his lips to the outer shell of Komui’s ear.

“I don’t want to hear you speak my name again except to scream it,” he growled, other hand hastily and carelessly dragging Komui’s pants from his hips. Cross stripped the other completely and let those clothes fall away as well.

Komui just tried to keep breathing.

Cross let go of his hair at last and he collapsed back onto his face against the bed, little dust clouds floating up from his ill-used sheets on either side of Cross’s spread-out jacket.

His sheets. His old, rotted, mouse-bitten sheets. On his bed. At home. In China. Where Cross was going to fuck him.

Tears soaked slowly into the collar of the Exorcist’s jacket; Komui just lay there, and breathed, and whimpered quietly.

He didn’t say Cross’s name again.

There was no mercy in Cross that night, no gentle touches or tender caresses. He almost seemed to purposefully hurt Komui as much as possible–it took as much to make the other give any sort of response. He was mindless of the bruises he left on Komui’s pale skin, ignored the long black hairs that came away with his hand. He didn’t want Komui’s mind to wander, didn’t want him to be able to pretend he was anywhere else, doing anything else, with anyone else. He whispered to Komui how good he felt, how perfect he was, reminded him who he belonged to, reminded him how much of a whore he really was, hissed his poison into Komui’s ear all night long.

The first few rays of sunlight into the Li family house found them still lying there, pressed close together, like lovers might have done. Komui’s eyes were still open. His body ached, bruised and clawed and abraded, but the feeling was dull, far away from him. He had exhausted all the tears in his body, lacked the energy even to shake any more, and so he simply laid there, pressed against Cross atop the dusty black jacket; listlessly staring in the direction of his moldering desk and its moldering books without any particular recognition in his blank gaze.

He wasn’t quite sure what home was anymore.

Sleep had not found Cross either. The General’s arms were loosely wrapped around Komui’s waist, his grip delicate. Komui’s mussed hair moved slightly with each of Cross’s slow breaths. What Cross was feeling right now was hard to precisely describe, but it was almost as though all of the life he lived before today had, for the moment, left him. There was a smile on his face, the kind of smile that was soft and content and free of all troubles. Because, in that single moment, he had everything. He had such exhilarating clarity. Such peace of mind. He had the entire world, the entire universe, he had all that existed and all that didn’t in his arms right then. Everything and anything and everything there was and wasn’t, right there in his arms, reflected in the fragments of what had once been a man named Komui Li.

The sun poured in through the window at just the right angle to fall upon Komui’s neck, and Cross brushed back the other’s dark hair so he could lean down and kissed the light away.

“Nmh…”

Komui gave a single quiet, reflexive little whimper. That felt… bad. Good. Badgood. He wasn’t really sure at the moment. The lips were soft, they tingled against his overstimulated skin, they…

Whose lips?

…Of course.

He shifted a little, just a little, where he was lying; turned the dark, blank, doll-like gaze on Cross’s face, and said nothing.

It was a sight that, had Cross not been laying in bed with him, truly would have brought the General down to his knees. With what emotion he could not say, only that it was gripping and overwhelming and made him feel the slightest bit dizzy. Slowly, he stroked the side of Komui’s face, slid the back of his hand along the other’s cheek, ran his thumb under the beautifully broken creature’s eyes as though brushing away invisible tears. He smiled down at Komui, and it was a smile of all the good feelings and all the bad feelings and all the so-good-they-were-bad feelings and all the so bad-they-were-good feelings. It was a smile of devotion hiding beneath ownership, of love tangled in hate, of happiness that could not discern itself from sorrow. And, when all was said and done, it was a smile that wasn’t really much of anything at all, because it meant nothing to Cross and Komui was no longer present enough to understand it.

“I love you,” he whispered softly into Komui’s ear without really thinking about the words at all.

Komui wasn’t there enough to really understand those words either; but Cross’s voice was quiet, soothing; his caress gentle; and…

…This was the man he belonged to, he recalled from somewhere, faintly.

He turned a little more until his body was facing Cross’s fully, and leaned his head wearily against the General’s chest.

Languidly, Cross shifted to accommodate him. The General wound his arms around Komui’s back and cradled his head close. He pressed a light kiss on the other’s forehead, paused a moment, then lowered his lips close to Komui’s ear again.

“I’ll never let you go.“