Title: Accompanying Him

Author: Proverbial Pumpkin

Rating: T

Summary: Tohma/K. Angst and cuteness via a mysterious illness the author blows slightly out of proportion.

Disclaimer: Someone else's.

When Tohma got out of bed in the middle of the night and headed towards the hallway, I knew my tossing around had kept him up. He didn't say anything, didn't seem irritated, but his movements told me he hadn't been asleep. He went carefully in the dark, and I eventually heard his footsteps hit the tile of the kitchen.

Damn it. I should have just kept still. I couldn't help it though- at one point during the workday my immune system had just collapsed in on itself with a piddly last fuck you, before a bad case of whatever I had moved right on in. I ignored it for a couple of hours – the dizziness and stomach pain, thinking I'd ride out the last couple hours of recording for the day. I took some Advil and threatened my band into relative cooperation. But eventually it got bad. Way too many chills, and pangs in my head, and trips to the men's room where all I did was lean over the sink and close my eyes while the walls spun around me. Bad Luck saw a lot more of my .480 Ruger than usual that afternoon.

When I asked Tohma to drive home because I was "tired," he didn't question it. Nor did he seem to notice that I pointedly forewent a seatbelt on the way, because something around my abdomen was pissed off at the rest of me.

Tohma is many good things, but he's not the kind of person you go to for sympathy unless you're a senseless vocal prodigy or a hot novelist. Plus, he had a company to run and his own stuff to worry about. That's why I didn't say anything and that's why, when he quietly left the bedroom for a break from my tossing about and moving the covers, I felt guilty. The man had a company to run in… -I checked the clock- five hours.

When he came back in, his silhouette was nearly silent, in case I'd fallen asleep. I turned over on my side, determined to be still now. No luck- The pain in my belly protested the move, violently. Very violently. It felt like a metal clamp was going to work on my insides, and my eyes shot open in the dark.

I swore. I could handle being sick, but why'd it have to fucking hurt?

Tohma stilled next to the bed for a moment, surprised probably. Then I felt him sit down and lean over me.

He wrapped an arm around my chest from behind, gently, and leaned his head against my neck. "Shh, K-san," he said. "I'm sure it'll stop hurting soon."

So he'd noticed, after all. "Thanks, Tohma."

"After you linger a while and then die."

"Goddamn it, Seguchi, what made you the way you are?"

He drew back and smiled, his hand still on my shoulder. "Oh, you're alright. Here, I'm going to turn the light on." I braced myself as he leaned over to the lamp, and the inside of my eyelids went from black to blurry red as the switch clicked. I turned over to him, squinting and cringing.

"So what's the problem?" he asked. "Is my number two band finally giving their fearless leader an ulcer?"

I snorted. "They were perfectly productive today, thank you." As my eyes adjusted, Tohma came into focus, the lamplight shining from past his shoulders. He didn't look unsympathetic- just tired. I was suddenly aware I'd stolen most of the cover on top of everything else. "I can go sleep on the couch." That... came out more pathetic that it was supposed to. And I really hoped he didn't make me, because the idea of relocating at the moment was daunting.

"Why?" he said, re-positioning one knee bent over the mattress, the other foot on the floor. "Being ill doesn't expel you from my bed. Not in every sense." As far as I could tell, that was his gentle way of telling me there would be no chancy exchange of bodily fluids until I got over this. He was trying to be nice, though. "Try to sleep again, so you can keep up with Shindou-san tomorrow. Do you need anything?"

I'd barely opened my mouth when the dull pain that had become constant around my stomach flared up with a vengeance. "No, I'm o-nngh. …Maybe an Advil."

He nodded, and his eyes flickered to the clock as he got up, the mattress filling back out as his weight left. I closed my eyes and tried to think what could be wrong with me. This was no seasonal flu, but it could still be as contagious. Maybe I could roll down the hallway to the couch. Maybe Tohma could carry me.

I was still laughing to myself about that, mentally at least, when he came back in and handed me an ibuprofen. "Now go to sleep," he said. "And turn over. I don't want you breathing on me."

"I know, I know." There was no reason to question if he was serious. I rested on my elbow, hoping the meds were fast, and flopped myself back over, facing the wall. Bad move. White-hot piercing in my head. As Tohma hit the light again behind me, I scrunched my eyes closed and willed back a wave of nausea I'd brought on myself. Barring the threat of a sick, painful vomit, what I really wanted was to keep still so Tohma wouldn't be kept up. Sleep was out of the question, I assumed.

I was still tense and my eyes were still shut tight when Tohma scooted up close behind me, slipping an arm back around my middle, careful of my stomach. I felt the soft pads of his fingers against my chest, the long sleeves over his arm cool against my skin. When he pulled me minutely closer to him, I could feel the rise and fall of his steady breathing. I focused on it, let it become my rhythm. The last coherent thing I registered was the relief of his cool lips against the back of my neck, before I fell into an uneasy sleep.

My dreams were unpleasant. I was flattened, immobilized- I needed to hunch in on myself but couldn't. My torso was on fire, and acid smeared into my eyes, stinging. Something with feelers had deposited in my stomach and spread out towards my limbs, its epicenter throbbing angrily until I finally let out a sound I would never make in real life, a miserable noise that didn't lessen the pain a jolt.

It was then that I woke up and realized I hadn't been dreaming a bit- would t'were. The sound I thought I hadn't voiced had been loud enough to wake Tohma up. "What…." came a sleepy voice behind me.

The dull pain had snuck up and spread out as I slept. I couldn't keep the groans back, or quiet. It was as if something was crawling in me, leaving burns and boils on my insides as it went. I gasped. "Tohma…" Sweat had gotten in my eyes, stinging. I could barely move.

I was vaguely conscious of him already stirring behind me, and there was an almost frantic fumble before light pierced throughout the room and through my eyelids, as I shielded it away from a pulsing headache.

"K!" He sounded aghast, and I could only imagine what he was looking at wasn't pretty. I could feel my body was drenched, my hair clinging to my face and chest. The bed jostled once, and then he was on my other side, squatting low and brushing my hair out of my face. "Oh my God, what is it? K?" My name came out on the side of panicked, and I felt his hand on my face. "Here, look, look at me."

Fuck no- it was bright as hell and my consciousness was already playing games. I heard him again. "Open your eyes, K-san. Do it." That was a presidential tone we all obeyed on instinct, and when he got a look at my eyes, Tohma reacted visibly.

"What's wrong, Tohma?" I cracked, weakly. "They're there, aren't they?" Then another surge of pain seared through my stomach, and I pressed my face in to feel the coolness of the pillow for a moment, hitting a fist into the feathers and cotton beneath. "Ohhh…"

"You shouldn't speak," he said, straightening up. "Here, get up."

I would have laughed if my head, stomach, or common sense would have allowed it. "Are you kidding me?" If the man had an ounce of compassion in him, he'd just find me a corner where I could curl up and die.

"UP." His voice was getting dangerous- Tohma got that way when he was concerned. His touch was spectacularly gentle though, when he reached an arm between my shoulders and the bed and helped me upright. "Can you walk?"

I would have preferred not to. But I couldn't deny that something was very wrong, and neither one of us were in a position to diagnose what. So jaw set, I let myself be hefted up. My head and stomach both protested, but the fact that it was getting worse told me I didn't have much choice. On the way to the car I was reminded of Tohma's surprising strength as he supported most of my weight…but then, he had to, since I certainly wasn't up to the task.

At least Tohma's car was warm. I rested my head against the window as he backed out, and I tried not to feel each bump and curve under the car. His eyes were on me even as he drove, narrowing every time I gritted my teeth or tried to hold back a guttural aching sound in the back of my throat.

He whipped out his cell phone, and I heard the numbers hit in.

"Yes, I have a patient who'll be arriving in about fifteen minutes, and who will need immediate attention." He paused, listening. "I'm sorry if I wasn't clear, sir. I said 'immediate.' This is Seguchi Tohma of NG Studios, and I'll be accompanying him. Yes, thank you." He threw his phone on the dashboard, and it promptly slid off as the Eclipse sped up, both Tohma's hands on the wheel.

"Tohma- nngh. For God's sake, slow down."

"No. Stop talking." Lights that had never seemed so intrusive before whizzed past us for a few minutes, or for about forever, until the familiar city scene surrounded the car. Bright, dark, bright dark- I was definitely going to hurl.

Tohma pulled into the hospital complex, crossing diagonally over mostly empty parking rows and finally slowing directly outside the Emergency Care doors. I wasn't speaking at all by this point, or even thinking much, at that. I registered part of Tohma's instructions to wait while he got someone. As if I might up and jog off. I spent the next few minutes with my head in my hands, legs sprawled out in front of me, waiting for Tohma to come back and reciting NG security combinations in my head. When the door clicked to my right, it opened to Tohma's voice talking to someone else.

"No," his voice was saying adamantly. "He can walk."

"Seguchi-san, if his condition is-"

"I said no. Take it away. K-san?" His voice was closer, at my side, and I unwound the globulated knot that was my reasoning enough to focus on him and let him and a hospital person maneuver me inside. Something was wheeled creaking away to the side. A wheelchair. Foggily, I wondered if Tohma knew I'd hate the idea of being carted in, or if he just didn't want to see it.

The smell of sterility hit me as hard as the air conditioning inside. And there was absolutely no telling what floor we went to, how many doors we passed and corners we turned. I shuffled my feet the whole way until I was finally deposited somewhere. I didn't notice Tohma's leaving until he'd already left, and for a horrifying moment I thought he'd literally dropped me off like this and then peeled out. Unlikely.

There was a bench and a sink in my tiny examining room, where I talked about my 'history' with someone who'd done this a billion times. It was a man with dark hair and dark eyes, who talked too fast, and asked questions before I could finish my answer. Yes, the pain had started the day before. No, my family didn't have a history of this disease or this one or that one. Where was Tohma? Yes, that hurt. Yes, that hurt a lot.

Then three gloved fingers pressed against my right pelvis and I hissed. And when they were too quickly retracted, I shouted. The room swam around me. My appendix? My guy nodded and wrote something down. "Your friend went to move his car and wait. We'll do a quick scan to make sure, but it looks like you'll be here a couple hours before your surgery, and then-"

"My…what?"

"Your appendectomy, Winchester-san. It almost certainly is your appendix. After we confirm, you're going to want it out, and fast."

Son of a bitch. "How much will that cost?" I closed my eyes. Talking was barely worth it. He held my upper arm as I touched down off the bench like a cripple, and he tried to help support me while I pulled my pants back on. I'm no prude by a long shot, but I wished he'd knock it off.

"Well," he said, "you have a couple options for the procedure-"

"The less expensive option." I grinded my teeth. Why was this a dialogue? Just tell me how long you're going to own my soul.

"Around four thousand dollars."

I wheezed.

"But you'll be eligible for certain write-offs, such as-"

"Are joking?" I said, an arm clutched around my stomach. "Unless you mean three thousand dollars' worth of write-offs-"

"No."

I shook my head. How could he look ailing people in the eye? Noble and compassionate profession my ass. "I can't pay it. How much for a year's supply of morphine?" On cue, an unbearable stab of pain pinned around the area he'd pressed before, and he shook his head and honest-to-God smiled.

"That's an estimated four thousand. There are short-cuts, and write-offs, and ways to schedule billing around your finances, I'm sure. But it's got to come out. It looks like you know that."

If I didn't know it, my head and stomach - excuse me, appendix - did.

After that, my muddled head slapped a price tag above every second of the visit. Did the scan cost per minute? How much was this drippy IV? Did my body need to be hydrated for this?

I was terrified they were going to make me go without painkillers for the next six hours before surgery, but in the end they moved me into a regular room with a bed and gave me something in the middle- something stronger than Advil but it wouldn't fuck with my system.

So when Tohma strolled into my room with one hand in a pocket, I wasn't too distracted by my own misery not to be thrilled to see him. I'd been instructed to stay in bed –an arrangement that suited me fine when I was too exhausted to even pull my hair back- so I just smiled at him from against the metal headboard. "Hey, Tohma. You've really screwed me over this time."

"How so?" he asked, pulling over a chair. His body language was easy, but I knew to watch his eyes. They were discerning: he was assessing my condition.

"By my calculations, I'm in debt for about two years for this."

He rolled his eyes. "You can't put that on me. I'm not the reason your appendix sucks. And anyway, you spend so much time at my place, you might as well just turn off the electricity and heat and water at your apartment. If anything, I'm saving you money."

He made sure that got a smile out of me before he got serious. "K-san, you know the only reason I'm not offering to pay is because I know you don't want my help." I nodded. He knew me pretty well. "However, this may be a good time to tell you I'm awarding a four thousand dollar bonus to all my managers whose next albums go Gold in the next year."

That sunk in for a moment, and then I raised an eyebrow. A hundred thousand copies? "Tohma, you realize there's no way Bad Luck's album won't run Gold?"

"Yes, well. We'll see."

I smiled, and turned my palm face up on the sheet. He indulged me, and I loved how his palm was smaller, but his fingertips reached mine. "And when'd you decide on this arrangement?"

"Around three thirty this morning."

On our way over. "Before we even got here?"

"It was pretty obviously your appendix."

"Bullshit." There was no way he could have known what was wrong with me. I didn't even know. "Then why the hell were you so scared, hmm? If you knew it wasn't life-threatening."

He looked at me levelly. "You were in pain."

I opened my mouth and closed it again. Tohma's eyes lingered on mine for a moment in absolute seriousness, before he reached forward and ran a couple long fingers through the hair falling forward over my face. "You should go back to sleep soon. But I don't mind telling you, K-san, that you frightened me earlier."

When he smiled at me, it was a real one, a relieved expression that reached his eyes.

My stomach did a flip- the good kind. "I know," I said, giving his hand a squeeze. "I'm sorry." I leaned up as far as the pain would let me, and he met me half-way. We'd had easier nights.

Our lips met, and I tried to commit the feeling to memory, knowing he'd have to leave soon. It'd be a long morning without him, and I'd want to remember the sound of his breaths, the night air clinging on his jacket, the way his mouth moved. Tohma had an uncompromised ability to will so much intensity into even the slowest, sweetest kiss.

I began to understand how much I'd worried him when a sense of urgency I don't think he'd intended came over him. There in the middle of the hospital room, he slipped his tongue against mine and smiled at the sound of surprise it elicited. He was seated on the edge of the bed by now, and his bangs fell lightly against my cheek as he lifted my chin up towards him. There was a force to his touch as his hand moved behind my head and fingered through my hair. Then his fingertips drifted to my jawbone and what was left functioning in my head clicked off. Not one to complain, I let myself be flattened – carefully – against the headboard as Tohma supported himself on his palms on either side of me and proceeded to give me a taste of the treatment I'd been giving him for months.

Best hospital visit ever.

When he drew back, I was still under a sensation I attributed to the medication. He didn't look the least bit apologetic, slipping his cell phone out of his pocket while I took a second to re-orient myself.

It didn't occur to many people that Seguchi Tohma could be a bit of a tease. "Hey," I said, giving him a lopsided smile I hoped was still charming from a hospital bed. "You shouldn't take advantage of people on painkillers."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, and clicked the phone shut. "K-san… I've got to go to the office in a couple of hours."

I nodded, seeing no reason to wipe the goofy grin off my face. "Go ahead, Mr. President. Maybe I'll be in later."

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed as he buttoned his jacket. "I'll send someone along, Sakano-san perhaps, after the procedure, and then later I can drive you home. Alright?"

"Yeah, but you've done plenty. I would have been so fucked without you tonight."

"I know. I didn't realize people even got appendicitis at your age." He fiddled needlessly with the pillow behind my back, and then looked around for something else to straighten. "Do you need anything else?"

"Nope. You're released."

"If they don't handle things properly, call me imme-"

"Go home, Tohma."

He nodded and gave me one last encouraging glance, and then his footsteps got softer as they receded down the hallway. I smiled, listening to them until they were gone… then I tallied how long before I'd see him again. Only an IV, one surgery, and some stitches to go before he'd be back.

A/N: I realize appendicitis does not usually pop up and get resolved in one night. But this is a one-shot. I also realize the appendix and the stomach are not interchangeable, but I wasn't about to write "K clutched at his appendix region" thirty times. So! Hopefully none of that bothered people too much, and hopefully you enjoyed it! Review if you're so inclined. ~