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[personal profile] amichan
 By the time I make it back to the cabin there is so much blood running down my side, my leg, that it’s pooling in my boot. It squelches with each step. The pain in my side has gone on so long it’s a dull ache, not to be unmatched by the one in my head. Gojyo is leaning against the wall by the front door, smoking. He gives a smirk in my general direction.

“I thought I told you to not rip open your stitches.”
“Next time I fight a talisman possessed monk I’ll ask him to go easy on me.”
“Next time?” Hakkai appears in the doorway.
I feel slightly cold. He doesn’t look angry, but he’s not smiling.
Goku barrels past him though and grabs me in a hug. It’s painful—if he weren’t holding me so tightly I’d be on the floor, “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says.
“Bring him inside.” Hakkai backs down the corridor and I limp down after him supported by Goku. I sit down on my rented bed and begin to peel off my robe.
Gojyo hangs by the door. He and Hakkai exchange a look.
“Hey, monkey, let’s go.”
“Don’t call me a monkey!” Goku rounds on him.
“Fine,” Gojyo remarks, “I’ll just keep all the food for myself.”

Hakkai and I are left alone. He strips my shirt off and begins the examination of the wound.
“You did a good job of being emotional and reckless,” he says.
I’m not sure what to say to that.
“Did you think about what would happen?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” I don’t want to say too much to someone whose hands are in my guts.
“If you failed.”
“I wasn’t going to fail.”
Hakkai sits back and I lean against the head board of the bed.
“Really?” he says, wiping his hands on a cloth which he sets down on the dresser moving the pack of cigarettes out of my reach.
“No. I couldn’t fail.”
“You could have failed.” Hakkai replies.
“It wasn’t an option.”
“You are nothing if not stubborn.” He says, “But you didn’t see Goku. I don’t know if Gojyo and I could have stopped him if you had failed this time and I doubt we could count on a second round of divine intervention.”
I snort.
“I somehow knew that wouldn’t be a problem for you, but it would be a problem for the rest of us.”
He goes to the bathroom and reappears with water, a different cloth and a bottle of something. He hands me the damp rag to wipe around the area of the wound and proceeds to clean the suturing needle and thread.
“I want to impress upon you the importance of being careful.” He says, “because I thought you knew it and then faced with this—all of it seemed to go out of the window.”
“How would you react if you somehow came across someone who’d been involved with Kanan?”
He stops, needle threaded, and looks towards the window, “They’re all dead.”
“What if they weren’t?” I persist, “What would you do?”
“I can’t say,” he answers, “touché.”
“There we are then.” He sits on the opposite side of the bed in order to begin the sewing.
“What was he like?” I ask. I’m trying not to think of how infinitely more breakable than them I am and the likelihood of getting injured again but considering the current situation that’s impossible.
“Terrifying,” Hakkai replies, and then he turns to me, eyes set, expression deadly serious, “I don’t want to see anything like that again.”

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