We both deeply apologize for the delay in the upload of this chapter. We ended up going on a little unplanned hiatus there for a while, but we're back on track. Please do enjoy this chapter full of door-kicking, hallucinating, and first aid administration!
Chapter Four: Dreaming
The kid had been cute for the first day or so. Really. It was kind of interesting to see something so...little and...helpless? Like a kitten. And Izumo seemed to get really into it--Kotetsu had always thought that his counterpart would make a great dad. (Whatever misfortune the zombie outbreak caused, it had come in time to save Kotetsu from having awkward conversations of the kids they might someday have. No one wanted to raise a kid in a wasteland like this, and how were the two of them supposed to conjure up a baby anyway? Though, uh, Genma seemed to have managed that last point quite well.) Still, Kotetsu hadn't been able to so much as change clothes in peace since the boy arrived. He had to take his clothes to the adjoining classroom where the windows weren't boarded up and he was sure that the legions of undead were staring at his goods. And the longer the boy stayed the younger he seemed to get, to the point where Kotetsu couldn't even bear to make lewd jokes around him. It felt like slowly being suffocated. Not to mention he and Izumo hadn't--
"Kotetsu, what are you doing?" Izumo's voice shook him from his thoughts and, yelping, Kotetsu pulled his pants the rest of the way up. He really had to stop zoning out while changing. Izumo only shook his head.
"Nothing I haven't seen before," he sighed. "And you've been in here for at least fifteen minutes. What's up?"
"Nnngh," Kotetsu protested, effectively avoiding the question, and pulled his shirt on. "How's the baby?"
"Sleeping," Izumo began, nodding over his shoulder at the door to confirm, though he did make a slight face at the epithet for Hayate. "Something wrong?"
"No," Kotetsu muttered. "Well, yes. Kind of. Just...I kind of miss having you to myself, y'know? Should we try to get Genma to take his kid back about now?"
"I have been a little worried about him. He hasn't been anywhere in days. Not here, not to Shibi--even Iwashi and Tonbo haven't seen him," Izumo agreed, "Iruka made a house call, but he didn't answer the door. We should probably try to do something."
"Kid's doing better too, right?" Kotetsu asked, joining Izumo in the main room. "Think today is good? It'd be a bitch if Genma died of exposure while we're trying to decide what's a good time to see if he's okay."
"Yeah," Izumo sighed. "I'll make breakfast if you wake him?"
"On it," Kotetsu confirmed, still being somewhat of a teenager who thought mostly through his stomach. As Izumo left for the cafeteria, Kotetsu crouched down next to the ((little parasite sapping away at his livelihood) adorable little boy, placing a hand on his shoulder to give him a shake.
"Hey, Hayate, you still alive?"
Hayate started awake with a jolt, eyes snapping open as he jerked visibly. "Nguh!" he uttered sleepily and nonsensically, falling back against the bed for a moment as his eyes focused and he came fully awake. "Mmh...Kotetsu, don't do that..." His voice was a half-whine; Kotetsu seemed to like startling him awake. It wasn't his fault he was twitchy about people waking him up, after all.
"How else am I supposed to wake you up?" Kotetsu retorted. "Izumo's bringing breakfast. And kid, you're gonna come with us to see what's up with Genma today." While Izumo might have gone about this carefully, asking about Hayate's wishes before gently steering him toward the best course of action, Kotetsu lacked that level of finesse and instead had to work with what he had, even if it was considerably less subtle and effective.
Predictably, Hayate tensed immediately, and the stiffness showed even on his yet-sleepy face. "Why do I have to go? I told you, I don't wanna go back there..."
"You have to go because everything else's been tried and you're the last thing between Genma and drinking himself to death," Kotetsu sighed, frowning slightly. Kids always thought that if they hung back enough, someone else would take care of the problem for them. God, he missed being twelve.
"Take a little responsibility, okay? You're running with the big dogs now."
Hayate fidgeted with his hands on his lap, looking down at them uncomfortable - it was the look of a kid who knew he'd made a mess but was reluctant to go anywhere near it to clean it up. He made a quiet, discontented noise under his breath and looked up at Kotetsu.
"I just have to apologize, right? And then that's it?"
"And kiss and make up," Kotetsu smiled teasingly at that, lightly prodding Hayate in the side in a brotherly fashion. Hayate gave him a sour and disgruntled look.
"That's not funny," he muttered, rubbing his side as if Kotetsu had hurt him. Even just as a turn of phrase...he wasn't going to get that close to Genma again if he could help it. He shuddered lightly at the mere memory of that night. It had been more terrifying than being chased by the undead, somehow - maybe because Genma was a rational, thinking, living human being with a personal grudge.
...Well, maybe not so rational.
"What's not funny?" came Izumo's voice as he reentered the room, bearing a couple of chipped old cafeteria trays piled with food. "Is Kotetsu cracking bad jokes again? Don't encourage him, Hayate. He thinks he's funny, but we all know I'm the comedian here."
"You're funny like a zombie bite, Izumo," Kotetsu shot back, swiping a meal tray from Izumo as he spoke just in case Izumo didn't appreciate his statement.
"But yeah, Hayate. Eat up and gear up, because we're heading out," he continued before inhaling his breakfast with truly awe-inspiring speed. When he finished, he set the empty dinner tray down and gestured to Izumo that he was going to lock down the school so that they'd have somewhere to come back to before heading off to do exactly that.
Hayate sighed and looked down at the food before picking at it idly. It wasn't that the food wasn't good--Hayate had never been much of a picky eater, and couldn't really afford to be--but now his stomach was flooded with dread at the thought of going back to Genma's apartment. Kotetsu and Izumo had assured him that Genma wasn't really such a bad guy, and yet...
A poke in the side of his head disrupted his train of thought, and he blinked, turning his head slightly to see Izumo looking at him, a bit expectantly. "Don't space out on me, kiddo," he said, sitting back on the cushions with his own own tray. "Come on, we don't have all day to waste. Eat up." He nodded to the food. "You might've been sick lately, but you need to eat. Besides, you haven't seemed to have a problem with it since you got here...what, is my cooking suddenly that bad?" It was a half-hearted attempt at humor, and Hayate only gave a sort of noncommittal shrug. Izumo sighed and shoved a forkful of dry mashed potatoes into his mouth.
"Listen, I know Genma gave you a good scare the other night. But we'll be with you, all right? Nothing bad's going to happen." At least, it shouldn't, he added silently, but then again, Genma could never be considered too inebriated to handle a gun.
But either way, his reassurance seemed to help, because Hayate looked a little less dejected and apprehensive and started eating properly again, more or less. Once the two of them had finished eating, Izumo stacked the dirty trays and got to his feet. "Come on, kid. We'll meet Kotetsu outside."
Hayate nodded and pushed back the sheets, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Izumo let him stretch for a moment or two before the kid got up, jamming his feet back into his worn sneakers, and he clapped Hayate lightly on the shoulder. "Come on, let's get going."
Genma had taken up permanent residence beside his toilet. His chest ached, deeply. Whether that had to do more with the absence of Raidou or the poorly healing gash there was anyone's guess, though. He was a mess, such a mess. He was wearing just pants, remembering faintly that he had taken off Ibiki's coat to make sure nothing happened to it. Ibiki had trusted him with that coat. He had to take care of it. At some point he had peeled his shirt off, though it had torn away the matted blood that was holding his chest together and caused him to bleed for a while. Now he felt a little bit like he was dying. His head hurt, pounded with pain. It seemed to hurt from his temples to his ear canals to his teeth to the back of his head and no amount of swearing or drinking did anything for him. Drinking. He had probably polished off everything in the house by now, considering he hadn't restocked in ages. At this point he was barely conscious, barely lucid, still knocking back the quarter bottle of whiskey that was his last. He still couldn't forget.
After he almost shot Hayate, he lost it. After the kid left, after Genma had sunk into his bed nursing his rum, he found himself fighting a losing battle against his memories. He wasn't in bed anymore, he wasn't holding a half empty bottle anymore. He was in the middle of the living room floor, Raidou spasming with pain in his arms. He could feel Raidou's hand gripping his tightly. If holding on to each other was enough, if how badly Genma needed him was enough...Genma was sure they would still be together. His face was slick with tears, his breaths choked with them. Raidou was dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He could hear Raidou's voice, hoarse and wracked with agony, agony at both the infection that was killing him and the reality that he and Genma would never have that 'some day when this is all over' to work everything out between them, begging him to end his life. But Genma couldn't do it. How could he? He would have sooner put a bullet in his own head.
Then it was over; Raidou was dead. He'd managed to get the body out--oh god he hadn't wanted to--and locked the door. He sat against it for hours, listening to someone that was not quite Raidou pound and claw at the wall, tears streaming steadily down his face.
There it was again, the pounding against his door. He made a strained sound, something like terror and guilt and pain, trying to block it out.
'I'm sorry Rai oh fuck I'm sorry I fucked up I know I fucked up Rai I'm so fucking sorry I was a coward I'm sorry I'm so sorry oh god I'm sorry Rai I'm sorry--'
"Genma! Shit, Genma, open the goddamn door!" Kotetsu had been kicking at the thick steel door for what must have been five, ten minutes, and fuck his foot was sore. "Genma! Come on, Genma--" He pulled his hand away with a hiss, shaking it out. "Goddamn it. Izumo, you take over knocking, my foot's gonna fucking fall off."
Izumo pursed his lips slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the street below the fire escape. "Shit, he needs to open the door," he muttered. "We're stirring up enough racket to attract a swarm or something..." He delivered a kick to the hatch in Kotetsu's stead, calling for Genma. "Come on, Genma, let us in! It's me and Kotetsu, come on!"
Hayate stood there quietly between them, looking nervous and uncomfortable. Things were obviously not quite going according to plan, as Hayate was certain that part of the plan had involved Genma opening the door at some point. Part of him--a small, selfish part of him--was a bit relieved that they seemed to be making no progress, because he was just plain scared of Genma now and he really, really didn't want to have to talk to him or even go into a room where there wasn't two inches of steel separating the two of them. Especially not a drunk Genma. But if he wasn't answering the door, then maybe there was something wrong with him, and Hayate felt a surge of guilt. Maybe he really was drinking himself to death, or already had--
"Genma! Genma, come on, open up!"
Hayate shivered as a cool autumn breeze brushed past them, and he shoved his hands in his pockets, more to keep them from twitching nervously than to keep them warm. He fidgeted and wiggled his fingers around inside them idly, fingering the hole at the bottom of one pocket, letting his fingers slide over the jagged edge of the key kept warm by sheer proximity to his body--
He stopped, blinked once, and pulled the key out of his pocket. He stared at it bemusedly for a second as Izumo and Kotetsu continued shouting uselessly at two inches of thick steel, kicking at it to get Genma to open up. The key. Hayate had found the key in the cupboard while he'd been cleaning, thought it looked like the key that Genma had used to open the door in the first place...
"Um," he said, but Izumo and Kotetsu paid him no mind.
"Son of a bitch thinks he can just go off and drown himself in vodka, does he?" Kotetsu muttered viciously, wincing as he gave the door another sharp kick, "No responsibility. Fine, we're not taking his guns anymore--"
Hayate cleared his throat, a little bit loudly. Kotetsu stopped kicking at the door long enough to toss a glance over his shoulder at Hayate. "What?" he demanded, a little more snappishly than he really meant to.
Hayate held up the key in his hand. "I think this might work on the door..."
For a moment, Kotetsu and Izumo could only gape at him in pure exasperation and disbelief before Kotetsu snatched the key out of Hayate's hand.
"Jesus, kid, how long were you gonna hold out on us?" he asked, mildly disgruntled because pain tended to do that to him. He forced the key into the lock and turned, sharing a sigh of relief with Izumo at the very satisfying sound of the lock springing open. Cautiously, he pushed open the door, determined to help Genma but only marginally less worried than Hayate about taking a bullet to the head.
"Genma?" he called, voice softer now, venturing into the pitch-black apartment, the only light coming from the doorway, "Genma, where are you...? Shit, Izumo, do you remember where the light switch is?"
"...Raidou?" a cracked, raw voice whimpered quietly from somewhere in the bathroom, causing Kotetsu to cringe. 'Shit. Not good.'
"No, hey, Genma. It's Kotetsu and Izumo. We just came with the kid to see how you're, uh, holding up."
"Kakashi...?" Genma asked wearily as Izumo joined Kotetsu in the apartment, followed shortly by Hayate. He licked his dry lips as he pushed away from the wall, managing to stand, leaning heavily against the bathroom door.
"Is...is that Masa with you?"
Izumo and Kotetsu shared another one of their 'oh fuck' glances, wondering how dehydrated Genma had to be to be that delirious. Hayate gave the two of them a bewildered look, started to open his mouth to ask Who's Masa?, but Izumo stopped him with a surprisingly sharp glance.
"No, Genma," Izumo's voice was gentle but firm, "it's Izumo and Kotetsu. We brought the kid you were with a few days ago. His name is Hayate." As Izumo spoke, Kotetsu noticed that Genma's prized Glock 17 was lying by the door. He picked it up, slowly as not to alarm Genma because the situation was bad enough, wanting to err on the side of caution--Genma was still dangerous as fuck without a gun, but it was a lot easier to stop a skewer than a bullet.
Bloodshot eyes squinted at Kotetsu, Genma's disorientation dissolving into longing and resignation as reality set back in.
"Ah. Yeah. Sorry, guys," he muttered, rubbing his temples, "My head--... Should've known better, but..." He sighed, shaking his head slightly before finding it a bad idea and stopping. He looked back up at them.
"Something I can do for you three?"
It was then that Kotetsu found the light switch, setting off the overhead lights that made Genma hiss and wince, sharply bringing up his hand to shield himself from the blinding brightness.
"Shit, Genma, sorry--" Kotetsu began before his eyes widened, seeing for the first time the mess that was Genma's chest, "...fuck, man. What happened to you?"
Hayate hung back, deliberately so, because somehow seeing Genma so weary and hurt and vulnerable scared him even more. The fact that someone could destroy himself from the inside out like this was just...
And the chest wound. Hayate only vaguely remembered the angry splash of red across Genma's front that night, but he'd been too terrified out of his mind to care about anything other than getting away. He blanched at the sight of it now, no longer fresh but probably starting to fester, and he turned his face away, staring at a moldy spot on the wall instead. He wrapped his arms around his chest, trying to ignore the fact he was still wearing Genma's shirt - and he wondered idly, for just a moment, if Genma had thrown out the shirt Hayate had left there.
"Oh, Jesus, Genma," Izumo muttered, his own gaze still fixed on Genma's chest. "Shit, I knew we should've come earlier. Genma, you got a kit around here? Where is it?"
"Fucking zombies," Genma laughed to himself as he looked down at the wound, clumsily swiping at it with the back of his hand, "It's nothing, it's just--" He swayed slightly, feeling a spell of light-headedness hit him as his legs threaten to buckle beneath him.
"...It's in the fridge, I think," he managed to mumble as he let himself slide back down, slumping against the bathroom door, feeling consciousness threaten to leave him and hardly in the mood to fight for it.
"Shit, Genma," Kotetsu swore once more, shaking his head, "Hey, Izumo. You go check the, uh...well, the fridge and I'll get him into bed, okay?" He glanced over at Genma's futon, then glanced over at Hayate even as he moved forward to get Genma off the filthy bathroom floor.
"Hayate, you have any idea what he did to his sheets?"
Hayate jerked slightly, turning to look at Kotetsu as Izumo brushed past him, heading for the fridge. "Um..." It took him a moment to register the question, register why it was being asked as he looked at the bare futon and blinked dully. "I--I washed them. 'Cause he asked me to. I left them in the bathroom, over the shower rod..." Kotetsu glanced past Genma into the bathroom, and sure enough, the wrinkled sheets were still thrown across the shower rod.
"Wonderful," he said dryly. "Kid, go get the sheets while I get Genma into bed." But Hayate didn't move, looking uncomfortable, and Kotetsu gritted his teeth. The kid still seemed to be on edge around Genma. (Understandable, maybe, but this was kind of an emergency.) "Come on, Hayate, go. Move!" He bent down, securely wrapping an arm around Genma's shoulders to pull him back toward the futon. Hayate rocked on his heels for a moment before moving forward, stepping past Genma carefully, as if treading on thin ice. There was no need, as Genma was far from caring.
Izumo came back with the first aid kit shortly after, and set it down so he could help Kotetsu drag Genma over to the futon and lay him over it. Izumo was muttering to himself under his breath as he grabbed the first aid kit and knelt down next to Genma. Kotetsu glanced back at the bathroom. "Come on, Hayate, hurry up with the sheets!"
"Coming," Hayate grunted, yanking the sheets away from the shower rod, and they tumbled down, half landing on top of his head. It would have been funny, something to laugh at, if not for the situation at hand. Trying not to trip on the ends trailing on the floor, Hayate yanked the sheets away from his face, paying no mind as the bandana he always wore came away from his head with them. He stumbled out of the bathroom, sheets in hand, holding them out. "Here--"
Kotetsu sighed and got to his feet, grabbing one end of the sheets. "Come on, let's lay 'em over his legs. Izumo needs to work on fixing Genma up so let's not get in the way." Hayate nodded, perhaps a bit dumbly but he comprehended nonetheless, and sank to his knees beside the futon, helping Kotetsu pull the sheets over Genma's lower body. Hayate looked at him then, really and finally looked at him - and this time, instead of fear, he had guilt written all over his face. He opened his mouth to say something - but then as Izumo reached forward with a damp cloth to wipe the wound clean, he shut it again. It wasn't the time.
"Shit, Genma," Izumo muttered. "Can't you take care of yourself? You let this thing get all infected..."
"You don't look anything like Kakashi," Genma responded distantly, either completely missing or avoiding the mostly rhetorical question, "Don't know what I was thinking, Izumo. You're much prettier than his stupid, moping, white-as-sin ass."
Izumo rolled his eyes as he pulled on the gloves in the first aid kit. "If you were in any kind of condition to have your ass kicked, that's exactly what I'd do, except I happen to like a challenge," he retorted. "You're about as dangerous as a newborn kitten the way you are." They both knew it was far from the truth, but Izumo figured the talk would distract Genma while he cleaned the wound. Having an infected wound treated was never a pleasant process, no matter how many scuffles Genma had gotten in. Hayate sat back against the wall and watched - why, he wasn't sure, as he'd never really had a strong stomach for those things, but he watched anyway. By now he wasn't going to need any encouragement from Izumo or Kotetsu to apologize to Genma - now, he was just waiting for his chance.
As soon as Izumo had patched up the wound and properly bandaged it, he stripped off the gloves and turned them inside out, tossing them in the trash, and went to wash his hands at the kitchen sink. He came back, wiping his hands on his jeans, and sat down beside Kotetsu against the wall. He glanced at Genma and sighed. "You take a nap or something. Doubt you've properly slept in days. So go to sleep and sober up a little. We'll stick around for a bit."
"Thanks, Izumo," Genma half slurred, on the verge of passing out as it was, "Kotetsu's...lucky to have you." On any other occasion, Genma would have cracked a few wife and fidelity jokes, but this morning he was taking the situation for what it was. That Kotetsu and Izumo were lucky to have each other, to have always had each other. And that he had once had that too. His hand closed around something that wasn't there as he shut his eyes, consciousness dissolving into a mercifully dreamless sleep.