Transaction

Disclaimer: Not ours!

Author’s Notes: Good morning and good news everyone! When I went to my high school teacher, she gave me an over the phone reference right then and there for a daycare just up the road from the school instead of in the next town over. They're desperate for help, and they said I'd most likely get a call back today or tomorrow. I'm excited!

Also, sorry again about the second update. I was running around trying to get everything done before my family came back from Vegas and passed out early in the process. I think I'll be able to get it done this time though.

Enjoy!
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Transaction
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Chapter Forty-One
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Footsteps on concrete as he ran, slamming into the ground and making his joints ache with the force. He could practically feel the envelope in his hand, the air burning his throat as he tried to breathe and run at the same time.

At the empty intersection, he had to stop. He braced his hands on his knees as he panted the white paper of the envelope stark and crumpled in the light from the street lamp. It was a soft, familiar voice that made him jerk his head up, words unintelligible to him now.

His eyes widened when he recognized the smile, the eyes, and the way he walked. Taki's heart leapt to his throat, and he tried to struggle against it, tried to breathe.

But, he was having none of it, and that hand... he knew how that hand felt! He knew the skin texture, the slender fingers that worked so well... He knew what they did, how they worked.

He knew how they felt when they pushed him back. His foot slipped off the curb, and he fell hard into the street. The envelope was still gripped tightly in his hand, but he threw the other out to break his fall. It scraped against the pavement, and always weak when it came to bloody pain, Taki jerked his hand up to his chest.

He slammed on his side, and the car lights blinded him. Panic! He tried to move, scramble away, but those tires were tearing against his legs, and the light wouldn't go away. It was bright, white and painful against his eyelids as he shook his head, trying to find some dark place to hide his face.

Voices now. Quiet, murmuring voices and the sound of a pen scratching across the paper. He couldn't make out what was being said, couldn't think...

He tried to move, tried to roll over and get up, out of the bed that had railing on both sides.

He couldn't move! The panic was thick in his throat, and he couldn't breathe as he snapped his eyes open, still trying to move. Any movement!

With a shocked, gasping breath, he realized he wasn't seeing white light. He wasn't seeing light at all. It was the absence of light. Dark. He was warm, his head under the blankets, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Just a dream.

He tried to roll over, shift and pull a leg up, and dread settled over him in a cold wave as he realized he couldn't. Breathing was difficult again, but it wasn't just panic, now. It was the tears he'd never let himself shed that sprang to the back of his eyes and clogged his throat.

During the course of their sleep, they had of course shifted and moved, actually parting ways and laying side my side. Tohma was facing Taki on his side, curled up with an arm draped across his chest. That's what told him something was wrong.

Besides the infernal shifting and twitching that rocked the bed, making it rock the darkness of his sleep like a boat lost in a storm at sea, he felt Taki's breathing change. He was halfway to being conscience from Taki's moving, and now as his arm rose and fell rapidly, he opened his eyes very slowly.

Nothing but pulsating darkness. Tohma thought he heard a sniffle or something that just sent the signal crying to his mind. The darkness shifted into recognizable shapes, one of them being Taki looking in total shock, fear and just plain misery.

Tohma moved slow, propping himself up on an elbow; he looked over at the other man with a mixture of sleep, curiosity and very faint annoyance.

"Taki," he said quietly. It was night and they were in a bedroom. Of course he was going to be quiet. "Taki, what's the matter with you? Are you feeling well?"

"No..." Taki's voice was choked, and he swallowed hard. "Tohma, I can't move." Said slowly, because irrationally, he hoped that if he spoke slowly, it would disappear before he was finished.

When it didn't, he felt the panic seize at him again, grab hold and make his breathing choppy.

To anyone but him, not being able to move would have been something to be wondered over and solved. Maybe a limb had fallen asleep, or there was something holding it down... But for Taki? Not being able to move was like not being able to breathe. He'd spent too much of his life stationary to stay calm when he was forced into it again.

Breathe. Taki struggled with himself, but he couldn't do it. He didn't want to feel the tears that were undoubtedly on his face now, and he shut his eyes against them and Tohma's face.

He didn't want to see it, or feel it, he just wanted to move.

Couldn't move?

"What? All of you?" Tohma asked, wondering if his entire body was paralyzed, or some specific part, or... well, something not so vague.

Ok, well, so Taki couldn't move, whether it is all of him or part of him. Could he still feel? Tohma placed a hand on his chest, asking Taki to tell him when he couldn't feel his touch, if it happened.

His hands went down Taki's arms, and over his chest, then past his waist and over his upper thighs. None of his movements were teasing in a sexual manner; they held purpose and were all business.

"Legs." Taki managed to gasp, shuddering. He could feel Tohma's touch without a problem, but he couldn't move his legs into it. It felt as if everything but the nerves had been disconnected, and he was floundering with nothing to stand on.

Surely Tohma had to understand. He had to! Taki took a deep, shuddering breath. This could be temporary, he told himself. Maybe... maybe if he went back to sleep, when he woke up, he'd be able to move.

But he knew that was a stupid idea. If he couldn't move now, what good would sleep do him? He'd told himself that every night for years. When you wake up, you'll move. It had never been true, and it was far more likely that he was just deluding himself into some sense of false optimism.

Legs... Tohma's hands paused, hesitating and hovering over Taki's body before moving away. Legs. Taki's legs had been run over. Taki had gone through two years of recuperation. Taki had a hard time remembering that his legs, though not weak, did need more care than other people's legs.

But why was all that? Because of Tohma, though technically, it ran back to Taki. Like water in a stream it all kept flowing.

"What do you want me to do?" the blond asked evenly, sitting up with Taki. "Is there anything I can do?"

Deep breaths. Taki hated crying, because it made it hard to breathe, and breathing was the only thing that had ever calmed him down. He took slow breaths, because that was the only way to get the air in.

Tohma's question made him laugh wetly. "I don't know." God, he didn't know.

Using his arms, Taki pushed himself up. He could feel the blankets move against his legs, catch on his feet, but he couldn't move them to unhook the blankets. When it came down to it, he just didn't care. He pressed the heels of his hands hard to his eyes, still taking deep, hiccupping breaths.

Shock, trauma, therapy, medication, white... It was all blurring to him now. He'd spent so long shoving it from his memory that he couldn't remember it now that he needed to. They'd said something about it, they had to have, but he hadn't been paying attention.

Taki wanted to beat his head through a wall, but all that happened was fresh tears leaking out onto his hands.

The other man was crying right before him, though grudgingly, and Tohma, one who kept his cool constantly, was left only looking on with a hard, yet bored expression. It wasn't that he didn't care; he just was at a loss for what to do.

Finally, he inched closer to the other man and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling Taki into a hug, their bodies close. He didn't want to seem overly emotional, but he didn't want to be uncaring.

"Taki, it'll be fine... did you have a nightmare?" Tohma asked, hugging the other man.

It would be fine? Fine? Taki wanted to sink against Tohma and push him away at the same time. In the end, he let Tohma move him because there was nothing else he could do.

And that stupid question. That fucking... Ugh! A nightmare. He felt like such a child, face wet while he hiccupped. All he needed now as a pair of onesies pajamas and a teddy bear, and the image would be perfect.

"Yeah..." He finally answered, wiping at his eyes in frustration. "I don't remember falling asleep, but..." He shrugged, swallowing hard over the last block in his throat.

Fine. Fuck, what kind of shit was that? Fine. Ha! How could it possibly be 'fine' if he couldn't move?

He'd love to give Tohma a new definition of 'fine,' but he was relaxing too much into the embrace to let himself. He hadn't even noticed he'd done it, but his arms wrapped around Tohma's shoulders, and his eyes shut, face close to the other man's neck.

Dammit.

He felt Taki relax, and Tohma rubbed his back soothingly. The other man was certainly upset over something. So much so that it had affected him physically. There was a psychological term for things like this, actually. It was in the same family as Hypochondria.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" he asked politely. After all, he was no long term lover. Tohma was merely a guest for a night with a host who'd seemingly gone bonkers.

Taki had every right to refuse him, or to push him away. It was his fault things were like this anyway.

"Why bother?" Taki asked, stifling a sigh. "You were there." He refrained from describing in detail, just to make Tohma feel like shit. He didn't think it actually would, and that was the problem. All that would come out of it was him making himself feel sick.

He hated remembering that night, and now he hated dreaming about it.

How many nights could a human being go without sleep and not die? He thought it was six, but he couldn't remember. So, that gave him at least five nights of not sleeping to ensure that he wouldn't have the dream for a work week.

But what about the sixth night? If he went to bed then, it would undoubtedly come back.

Tohma froze for a brief second, before remembering to breathe. He knew he wouldn't apologize, in his heart he knew he couldn't. He was protecting the one he loved dearly, and his punishment had seemed just.

The blond couldn't think of being wrong with something so drastic.

"Taki... has this happened before?" Tohma asked softly, keeping himself close to the other man.

Shaking his head, Taki fisted his hands in the blanket that still covered his legs. "I've had the dream before, sure..." How couldn't he? "But this had never happened before, no."

He didn't understand why it was happening now. It couldn't possibly be Tohma's reentrance into his life. It would have happened earlier, and there would have been no one there to calm him down.

And he was feeling calmer, glad Tohma was near him and not pulling away.

"Would you like me to take you to a hospital?" Tohma asked, still trying his best to keep out any inner turmoil.

Maybe he could sleep it off, or possibly there really was something wrong with his legs. From the obvious, Taki had left his recuperation early, which meant he rushed through to get himself in shape again. Maybe a relapse?

Something was amiss. He didn't know if he could fix it or not, but he would certainly try if he was allowed.

The hospital. Taki's first instinct was to say no, reject the very idea of a hospital. He hated them. Hated the smell, the walls, the people, their needles and their machines. He hated the tests, the analyses, the plastic gloves that the doctors always wore.

He hated all of it.

But he nodded slowly, because when he thought about it with a rational mind, he knew that was the only way to really know what was wrong. "Yeah..." Even with his mind made up, there was obvious self loathing in his voice.

He couldn't believe he was submitting himself to this again.

"Alright," Tohma agreed, slowly letting go of Taki. "Let me get dressed first, and then I'll help you."

He dressed quickly, throwing on his pants and shirt, not caring to look for his tie or gloves or anything than the bare necessities after that, he rummaged through Taki's drawers, pulling out pants and a shirt for the other man.

"Here, you do the top, I'll do the bottom," Tohma said with a wry smile. Yes, a bad pun, maybe. The blond removed the covers from Taki and carefully started to put the pants on him, easing them up slowly.

"Tell me if I hurt anything."

The shirt was easy, and Taki felt like such a fool as he buttoned it. Tohma was putting on his pants for him, and it made him feel like a child all over again. Only, this was worse. He couldn't move to help, he couldn't protest and do it himself; he had to sit and accept it because he couldn't do anything else.

"That's fine." Taki said when Tohma got the pants up past his hips, buttoning them himself. He was determined to at least do something.

He hated this.

"Just let me call a cab," Tohma said, searching for his phone. Finding it, he auto-dialed the number and gave the directions, and hung up.

Walking back over to the bed, he sat on the edge next to Taki, sighing quietly. What to say now? There really wasn't much to be said between them, and now, after what had happened this night... Tohma doubted it would be happening again.

It was obvious he was the cause of this.

"They said that the cab will be here in ten minutes," the blonde eventually said.

In a few of those minutes, he'd be lifting up Taki to take him out to go meet the cab. This wasn't so serious that an ambulance needed to be called. Unless Taki objected, to which he would call one.

Taki nodded, wishing he could pull his legs up to his chest and hide. But, he couldn't, and they stayed stubbornly on the bed as they had since he'd woken up.

His mind was swimming with possibilities. What if there was no recovery this time? What if he had to stay in the hospital because he couldn't move? What if it spread? These things weren't supposed to happen twice.

They weren't.

And what would Tohma do if he couldn't move anymore? Certainly, you couldn't keep a lover who couldn't take you. It just couldn't be expected, and if they could solve this... Would Tohma want him again anyway?

Would he want Tohma?

The questions burned at his mind, made him feel sick. He didn't no, not about what was wrong, what to do with it, or what could happen because of it. But there was some part of him, some small, suppressed part, that didn't want to let go of Tohma, no matter what happened.

It was that part he tried to ignore.

Tohma sighed slightly, running a hand through his hair before getting up again and turning to face the bed. He felt awkward about this, but it had to be done unless Taki could miraculously walk again.

"I'm sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable, but bare with me for now," the blond said, slipping one arm under Taki's knees and the other behind his back, lifting with a soft grunt.

"I'm going to put you on the couch so I can put my shoes on, I'll help you with yours," he said, walking out of the bedroom and into the living room, setting the other man down on the couch. He went to the door and brought Taki's over first, kneeling down to untie them and slip them on Taki's feet, then retie them. He went back to put on his shoes.

Tohma opened the door in time to see the cab pull up where directed.

"Time to go," he sighed, going back and picking Taki up again and nudging the door open with his foot, turning and asking Taki to close it for him.

All of this kept his mind off the obvious questions plaguing him.

Pushing the door shut, Taki tried hard to keep himself from feeling like a fool. But he couldn't help it, not at all. Tohma was carrying him - literally carrying him - from his own apartment. It was just too much for his sore pride, and his hate for the entire situation grew.

He knew he should be at least a little thankful. Tohma didn't have to be doing this for him, after all. He could have just laughed and waved as he left instead of calming him down, helping him get dressed, and helping him into the car.

Taki knew himself. He would have tried to do it on his own if Tohma hadn't been there. But, even though he knew he should say something, some word of thanks... He didn't open his mouth, just held onto Tohma's shoulders.

Tohma jerked his head at the driver to get out and help. The squat old man did so grudgingly, muttering obscene things under his breath. The blonde wanted to kick him, though he knew he wouldn't. He thanked the man politely and placed Taki into the back of the cab, shutting the door. Walking around, he got in on his side and directed the driver to the nearest hospital.

"Since we have a week of waiting to do for our lead singer, I don't want you to worry about work at all, Taki," Tohma said, not knowing what else to say.

Would it be weird to ask if they should even consider seeing each other again? Should they terminate the contract they had now and just revert back to the old one?

And now there was nothing but silence before the hustle and bustle of the hospital waiting room. Well... he'd get a few strings pulled to fix that. Tohma did not want to sit in one germ infested area for too long. The rooms were sterilized at least. And his eyes widened slightly and he realized why the old driver had been so obscene. He tried to discretely moisten his thumb and wipe as his chin, wince slightly in embarrassment as he came across the dried come from earlier.

Ugh. What a way to start the night... erm, day.

"Shut up." It wasn't angry, to Taki's surprise. He certainly felt angry, but it was all directed at himself. He leaned against Tohma and squinted at the dried mess, then shot a glare toward the driver.

Fucking bastard.

Pulling the cuff of his shirt down, Taki pressed it to his tongue until it was damp, then began to clean off Tohma's jaw and neck. He didn't want to deal with more of that shit that he had to, and they'd already gotten enough from the driver.

Besides, he wanted to ruin this shirt. He hated it. A gift from his mother.

He knew what was waiting for him at the hospital. A waiting room, more murmuring, and a nurse attendant who would pass him to a nurse, then a doctor. Paperwork, after that, and depending on how bad it was, staying overnight. He didn't want it to be that bad, but the entire process would take hours regardless.

Tohma blinked, hand pausing in trying to clean himself up. Taki had told him to shut up, though he couldn't figure out why in the least. Had he hit a nerve? The other man hadn't sounded angry.

Then there was a firm press of damp cloth against his jaw and chin. Only his eyes looked over, watching Taki clean him up with his shirt. Then again, he wasn't supposed to say anything, so he just sat there waiting until he was finished.

"Thank you," Tohma said quietly with a nod. But he didn't think to say anything else afterwards.

"You're welcome." Taki couldn't shift himself up to lean against the door and look out the window, so he stayed against Tohma, arms crossed loosely. He was still glaring at the back of the driver's head, because it made him feel a little better to be mad at someone besides himself.

They were pulling up to the hospital, though Taki didn't remember giving the driver a place to go. He decided he didn't care, heart leaping into his throat at the sight of the white building in the dark.

Tohma looked out the window, figuring out which one it was quickly (being with Ryuichi for most of his life had caused him to become quite acquainted with most facilities). He pulled his phone out again, telling the driver to wait. It would be worth it if he did. The old man snorted in disgust. Tohma kept his eyes steady though his fingers tightened just so around the slim phone pressed to his ear.

He spoke quietly for a few minutes, and then hung up, and sat in the back seat next to Taki without saying a word. Then there was a tap at Tohma's side and he got out, motioning around to the other side. A nurse with a wheelchair came around and Tohma followed to help ease Taki into the chair. The blond paid the driver far more than he deserved and thanked him politely as well.

No one could ever say that Tohma was not a gentleman.

"I figured this would be easier for both of us than having me carry you in, Taki," Tohma said quietly, almost as if to himself. Taki's pride had been injured before, no need to do it publicly.

A wheelchair was better then being carried in, and Taki nodded his thanks at Tohma. He still hated this, hated the entire situation, but he wasn't quite ready to offer himself up on the alter of humility.

He'd never been any good at it.

He was wheeled into the hospital, but he refused to look at it. He kept his eyes on his lap, fingers spread out over his thighs. He didn't want to see those walls, or the grim faces they were passing. He didn't want to know he was back inside a building he had promised himself he would stay out of, but the smell was enough to convince him he was there.

If Taki thought he was having a hard time dealing with the hospital, he had no idea what Tohma was going through. He finally realized now how stupid it had been to disregard putting his gloves on. If only he'd taken a minute more to just find them!

His hands were bare and he could feel the dry, humid, stale reek of disease everywhere in the place. Clinging. And his hands could touch anything and become contaminated and transfer it out of the hospital. What if he went to work and touched his desk and let a... a... an Ebola virus loose? And then what if it touched a paper, and then the paper touched his secretary, and from there... the thoughts were endless.

The nurse wheeled Taki into the large room filled with beds that had curtains to close for privacy. No examining rooms. Just one large room. He quietly asked the nurse to show him to the bathrooms, excusing himself from Taki for a good ten minutes before returning hands washed, dried and wearing latex gloves (given to him by the nurse at request. Such a nice woman). Now, if he could just stop himself from breathing... the air tasted horrible. He could feel the thick germs flowing in with every breath...

He had to stop before he went mad.

Tohma took up a tissue, wiping down a chair placed in the small 'room', next to the bed where Taki would surely be placed once the doctor came to check him out. The blond told the nurse not to rush the doctor, but that didn't stop him from giving her a little motivation to try and do so anyway.
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Author's Notes: Dun dun duuuuuuuuun! Who saw this coming?! We didn't when we wrote it! You won't expect what's coming next either. Scout's Honor. On another good note, Kel has had some time to get back into the swing of things, and as I type this, she's currently writing a reply to our sequel. We've been working on it since late last night.

Right now, it's quite hilarious. It has a serious note through out it, but me being the comedian I am, and Taki being a perfect drama queen sets it up just right so that we amuse ourselves with it. Kel and I? We're like this. Yeah, you can't see the motion I'm doing, but it indicates that we're totally on the same page. XD

Drop us a line!

~Subby