The smell of spilled blood lingered in the icy air, coppery and bittersweet, while the cold concrete walls radiated an overwhelmingly icy dampness. Ganta never liked the dungeons. An image of the one eyed male flashed through his mind.

"I've never formed a real connection with anyone. What makes you think I'd want to become friends with you?"

Sighing, he shut his eyes and ran a hand across his forehead, swallowing deeply to suppress the horrible memory. He was sweating despite the chill—these walls were stained with such sorrow. But, this was still home.

One moment he had been sprawled out on the bloody floor of a basement, absolutely certain he was going to die, and then just as suddenly instead of freezing concrete there's the rough carpet of his room under his red hands.

The change is dizzying, the bright red of blood in the darkness and the hoarse sound of his choking and coughing, turning to rough silence and the dim quiet of his room.

It hurt….

Then suddenly a faint light seemingly floods in the room from the doorway. Something blocked the light from shining into his eyes however. Something blocked the light.

Senji.

The male, more familiar than he should be to Ganta, was watching him silently from the doorway. His expression was hard, but it's not so much anger as resignation. Like he's made a choice, for whatever it's worth, and he's chosen to waste his time on staring at Ganta intently.

Suddenly Ganta felt grateful to not be in that basement surrounded by blood and death.

Pushing bloody hair away form the long gash in his temple, he goes to stand, to push himself upright and face the man before him, but he just doesn't have it in him yet and his legs abruptly refuse to hold him.

Dammit!

Suddenly he's caught by a pair of strong arms, cradling him against a broad chest, covering in scars. Exhausted, Ganta leaned into his warmth, leaned into his shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe properly, and he's exhausted and he's still covered in blood, leaving bright smears and bloody fingerprints all over Senji's front.

Senji takes his weight like it's nothing.

"Senji," Ganta murmured thickly, swallows the sudden ache in his throat.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me kid, I merely was re-paying a debt."

Silent, Ganta moved his hand, leaving a smear of coppery red on Senji's neck, the soft curve of his jaw, blood painted with his fingers and Ganta has no idea what he's doing but he can't help but think that maybe Senji will let him.

The smear becomes fingerprints and he's so much closer, and Senji suddenly makes a noise. Something that sounded almost like a purr mashed with a low growl.

Something Ganta doesn't think he meant to make.

Something that's more than just letting him, something that wants him to.

That thought disappears as Ganta tilted his head away to just breathe, to realize that he's finally safe in this man's hold, at least for now.

"ごめんなさい..."

"It hurts..."

"君を傷つけるつもりはなかったのです."

ごめんなさい means: Sorry.

君を傷つけるつもりはなかったのです。Means: I didn't mean to hurt you.