You Are My Sunshine
Chapter 12

It occurred to Ichigo that time didn't pass like it used to when it was spent by himself. Mornings seemed to linger in the sunlight that fell over his brother's bed - lost somewhere in the halo of light that filled the apartment. Shiro woke with his hair in a big mess, pillow marks pressed into his pale, still gaunt cheeks, and it made Ichigo smile and his heart felt like it was bursting. He wanted to press kisses into his brother cheeks and flop down into the bed with him and make him laugh over something stupid and ask him what he wanted for breakfast. Time seems to wrap around his brother, slowing it to something akin to molasses, sticky sweet and languorous.

Ichigo loved it.

Ichigo face heated with a guilty blush and retreated to the balcony as Shiro rolled over, unaware of his audience. When he came back inside, Shiro had migrated to the couch, feet tucked neatly beneath him, the heels of his palms digging into his eyes, still bleary with sleep.

"Sleep well?" Ichigo inquired politely, keeping his eyes anywhere but on his brother as he glided into the kitchen. He could see Shiro's white hair sticking up over the bar. He looked like a fucking dandelion.

"Alright, I guess," Shiro croaked. "Considering I haven't slept in my own bed in a while."

Ichigo peered into the scantly stocked fridge. He seriously needed to go shopping. "True. No bed like your own. Sorry 'bout that."

"I think something weird is going on." A disembodied voice floated over the bar.

The eggs hadn't expired yet and, miraculously, none of them were cracked. Eggs is was. "What do you mean weird?" The milk smelt a bit off. Trash it. "Like, creepy weird or medical weird?"

"Both?" Shiro offered.

"Hang on, let me get you something to eat and then we'll talk."

The omelets were slightly mushy but edible. Shiro accepted his plate from Ichigo with a sheepish grin, thanking him again for cooking. They both ate quietly and Ichigo took the opportunity look at this brother's body again. His face was less gaunt than it had been three days ago and his ribs and vertebrae were less noticeable through his shirts. Thickener added to his food helped with the calorie intake required to make Shiro gain weight, but he didn't always want it added to his meals. Ichigo had tried it once and it was weird. Shiro rarely mentioned it again after their first meal together.

After Ichigo put their plates away, he settled back on the couch by Shiro and asked him what had been strange.

"I mean, I don't think it's bad, just...I expected...," Shiro tried to explain. "I thought I'd be dreaming again by now."

Ichigo could understand his concern. "It could be a number of things affecting your dreaming. You may not be entering REM sleep during the night, or you may be dreaming and not remembering. Do you remember the last time you dreamed?"

Ichigo noticed Shiro look away and rub gently at his temple, taking a few deep breathes like it was difficult to think about.

"I think I was dreaming or something when I was in the coma."

"What do you mean or something?"

His brother pressed his fingers harder against his forehead. "I was running, for a really long time and the sun was going down. There were flowers - wildflowers in a field."

The daffodils that Ichigo had bought were sitting on Shiro's bedside table, withering and dying, but still there. Shiro still didn't know that Ichigo had bought them. His brother asked him whom they came from. He said he didn't know.

"And before that I guess I had stupid, normal dreams I guess." His head lolled against the couch dejectedly, turning to look at Ichigo with trusting eyes.

"Either way," Ichigo explained. "I'll ask the doctor to refer you to have a sleep study done to check your sleep cycles and breathing. Just to be safe."

Shiro smiled unexpectedly. "Tomorrow is your off day, right?"

"Yeah, did you want to do something?"

"Yeah. If you don't mind I need a few more things from my apartment and we need to do some shopping."

"Shopping?" Ichigo deadpanned.

Shiro gave him a smug grin. "Your shampoo is crappy and the fridge and cupboard are getting kinda bare. And I need shoes."

"You've got shoes."

"I wanted some running shoes."

"Okay," Ichigo agreed easily and then quickly added. "If you wanna talk about your coma anymore, I'm here and willing to listen. Okay?"

Shiro nodded solemnly.

"How's it going?"

Grimmjow was after him again, constantly catching his eyes from across the hall and during lunch when Ichigo purposely evaded him. He knew what Grimmjow was going to ask and Ichigo did not even want to go there just yet with him.

He rolled his shoulders and cut his eyes sharply towards the man, giving off his best 'leave-me-the-fuck-alone' vibe. Grimmjow was not buying it and plowed forward with his questions.

"Is Shiro doing okay? How does feel having a brother now? Has your dad said anything to you?"

Ichigo was so not amused. "Cut it out, Grimm."

He didn't want to be honest with himself, much less someone else. There were feelings rolling around in his head he couldn't - wouldn't acknowledge; did not want to admit how even after a week of living together it still hadn't changed how he felt about his newly acquired relative.
He was terrified of what other people would think, even Grimmjow.

His friend was waiting patiently for Ichigo's response. "He's fine - I'm fine. We're doing fine."

"Have you talked about anything?"

"Come on, man. He's been home a week. I really don't want to do this now. Okay?" Ichigo nearly snarled.

Grimmjow looked at him oddly and give a small nod of acquiescence. "Later then?"

"Later," Ichigo confirmed. Much later...more like never.

Nighttime was typically quiet inside their apartment. Shiro inevitably fell asleep before Ichigo and the whole place became transfixed during his brother's slumber. All the energy Shiro had radiated seemed to settle and burn out in his sleep, leaving Ichigo with a lethargic feeling - like crashing from a sugar high.

A lungful of smoke escaped his lips, sick with his own feelings as the night grew colder.

Their relationship was a struggle for Ichigo. He wanted Shiro to feel comfortable with him, confide in him, but the effort Ichigo expended keeping his conflicted feelings hidden was draining him and giving Shiro mixed messages.

Shiro always asked when Ichigo went to sleep and how long he slept and Ichigo always replied, "Enough." He avoided all other mentions of his own sleeping habits that Shiro might have inquired about. It was important to Ichigo that his brother knew he was the priority here, not Ichigo. Food was made for his brother, not himself. Money set aside for Shiro, not himself. Ichigo was the caregiver in this situation, not Shiro.

He couldn't see Shiro trying to reach out to him. Couldn't see him long for the connection with his brother that Ichigo was not allowing them to have because he was so very scared of being utterly rejected by him brother.

Utterly fucking rejected by everyone.

Something was bothering Ichigo, Shiro could tell. The strange looks and clenched fists were the first thing he noticed. There was a sad fog that hung around his brother. It kept him from smiling completely and brilliantly, though, Shiro had come close to seeing that smile, but something was still holding him back. Ichigo rarely touched him, if ever. He kept his hands to himself if he could help it. Shiro hated it sometimes, hated that Ichigo wasn't being open with him. The first night they had dinner was promising, but none of their time together had revealed anything else about his brother. Perhaps Ichigo's family could tell him more about his new brother.

After his next doctor's appointment he'd be able to travel. The chance to meet his stepsisters and his father excited him beyond reason. Family waiting for him. For him. Shiro flipped through another page of his book and bit his lip in both silent elation and frustration.

"What'cha smiling about?"

"Our father. Our sister. You." Shiro grinned.

"The girls are really excited to meet you," Ichigo beamed, flipping through a magazine at the bar. "Karin and Yuzu haven't visited me out here, I just don't have the time or the space for them."

Shiro's smile fell at Ichigo's words. If he had the family Ichigo had, he'd visit as often as he could, call them everyday, love them like they deserved. A sob escaped from his chest without his permission and his blush ran wild across his face.

"Shiro, what—" Ichigo says worriedly.

"Sorry, I just..." he fumbled as he jumped up and ran to hide in the bedroom, locking in the door behind him because Ichigo would come after him.

He burrowed in the bed, hiding his face as he sobbed into the pillows. He was so lucky to have this; so, so lucky. He had been alone for such a long time, that it didn't seem like this could be something he could have. Those twins on the playground he envied were suddenly not that far away, their hands reaching for each without looking because they knew the other was never far away. Heat filled his chest as he cried uncontrollably.

Outside the door, Ichigo pressed his head against the door, chastising himself. Stupid, so stupid. Think about what comes out of your damn mouth, idiot. What he'd said was careless, ungrateful and mocking in light of what Shiro had gone through. Ichigo felt disgusted with himself. He heard his brother crying through the door, small hitches of breath and shuddering exhales. Idiot, idiot, you fucking idiot, Ichigo said to himself.

Ichigo didn't say anything, just waited, dropping down to press his back against the door. He'd wait for Shiro to let him in, or not let him in. He just wanted to be here.

Shiro was embarrassed by the time he'd cried himself out. His brother must have thought him an invalid. Bursting into tears over a simple conversation. He was so pathetic and needy, such a burden to his wonderful brother. To face him would be mortifying.

Through the space beneath the door, Shiro could see Ichigo's shadow. He was waiting outside the door. He hadn't once tried to get in, or to ask to be let in. He was just waiting Shiro out. Shiro got out bed and unlocked the door and gave Ichigo a change to get up from the door.

Shiro peered through the crack in the door, sheepish and red-faced. "Ichigo?"

His brother was sitting just outside the door, but not leaning against it. Shiro opened the door the rest of the way and dropped back down to his knees, folding his arms around Ichigo's shoulders, hugging him from behind. "I'm so sorry." He murmured into Ichigo's shoulder blade.

"God, don't be," Ichigo signed, letting his head drop between his shoulders. "I didn't think - I wasn't trying to sound..."

Shiro let a whine escape his chest, pressing his cheek into the warm cloth of Ichigo's shirt. "You didn't. You didn't, Ichigo. I know you love them," Shiro gasped. "I fucking know."

"Yeah, I just meant -" Ichigo paused. He raised his head and leaned back into his brother, his fingers finding Shiro's arms around his chest and clinging to him desperately. Shiro squeezed him tightly. "I've had my family my whole life. I've never had to second guess that. Never had to look for that kind of love. But Shiro," Ichigo said softly. "You're always going to have us now, no matter what. You belong to our family now - you belong to me. I'm always going to be yours and you'll always be mine."

"Ichi-" Shiro quietly sobbed, holding his brother closer than ever before. The heat of him radiated into Shiro's chest and arms. This man was his brother and he'd never held someone so close before and still felt the need to be closer somehow.

Ichigo's hand came up and carded through Shiro's hair, so very careful and reverently. "I know what you're thinking. After you get well this will all change and go back to how it was before. Well that ain't fucking happening. We're always going to be together now; be in each other's lives."

Shiro wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. "I want that. That's what I've always wanted."

TBC...

Author's Note:

A new chapter! Gasp! But I do think of this story often and have hight hopes of finishing it one day. Thank you for taking the time to read this fossil, as I am literally no longer active in this fandom aside from this. 3