Title: You Again
Word Count: 994
Rating: K+

Characters: Nezumi, Shion
Setting: Canon, Post-Correctional Facility Takedown

Summary: Shion shows up at Nezumi's window in the rain.

Nezumi ducks as a knife whizzes by his face. He pants heavily, winded from all the agile maneuvering he's been doing just to scrape by. He feels another knife just graze his cheek, cutting the skin ever so slightly but stinging nonetheless. He sucks up his exhaustion and forces his body upright from its doubled over position. He can see another knife coming and he tries to force his body out of its path, but there are no results. His knees just buckle and he falls to the floor. He knows this is it. He's on empty. Such a pitiful way to die.

But then his neck is gripped tightly and he realizes that it's not a knife at all. It's a thick, black tendril protruding from the darkness that has been pressing in all around him. And then he realizes that his enemies are really just one, single person. What an even more pathetic way to die. That person steps from the shadows, crimson eyes shining darkly. He's holding a knife, Nezumi's knife, as he approaches. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly. And Nezumi can't move. He's paralyzed. He wants to try and fight for his life, but he can't… not… not against him.

The man steps closer, raising the knife's cold blade to Nezumi's overheated throat. His eyes are so dead, so empty, so unforgiving. And without even so much as a flinch, he—

Nezumi sat upright in his bed at lightning speed, immediately gripping the knife by his bedside and turning defensively toward the window. Even as his face is covered in a thin veil of cold sweat, even as his fingers tremble furiously from the weight of his nightmare, even as his breath juts raggedly from his lips, he's able to take up a stance to protect himself. He might be the only person on the planet who could wake from a dead sleep, a nightmare no less, because of a tap on the window. But he'd trained himself to be constantly on edge. It wouldn't do to be snuck up on and killed in the night.

He tried to steady himself, but to no avail. Nonetheless, he had to investigate. He lifted himself from the bed onto shaky legs, trying to banish the lingering images of his dream in order to focus on the task at hand. The images continued to faintly replay in his mind though, making his breath come a bit more raggedly. When he finally reached the window, it was at the same time that another louder and more impatient tap sounded out. He furrowed his brows. That seemed more like someone was knocking on a door rather than trying to sneak in and attack him.

Warily, he peeked through the window to see the blurred form beyond. There was something familiar about the face outside, but he couldn't decide what. In any case, he started to open the window. Halfway up, though, he froze solid when he realized who he was staring at. Shion wasted no time lifting the window the rest of the way on his own, and then he started climbing through.

"Sh-Shion…" Nezumi breathed, stumbling back until his legs hit the bed and he plopped back onto it.

Shion grunted as he finally toppled inside the room. He turned and closed the window behind himself before taking off his soaked coat and setting on the back of a chair to dry. He shivered slightly and started rubbing his arms, looking awkwardly around the room. He wasn't entirely sure how to breach the subject of what he was doing there, seeing as it had been a year since he'd last seen Nezumi's face. How exactly was Shion supposed to explain that he'd heard word of Nezumi's whereabouts and just decided to track him down without sounding like some sort of stalker? Especially since they hadn't seen each other in... well... way too long. Instead, Shion started with something easier.

"Towel?" he asked. But when he looked at Nezumi, the man's stance was just so broken down. His face was buried in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees as he slumped over himself heavily. His breath was more broken now. Shion approached worriedly and carefully touched one of Nezumi's shoulders. "I know this must be surprising…" he began softly, but then he didn't know where else to go with that.

Nezumi just sat there for a long moment being completely shut into himself. All he could manage were a few choked breaths. Shion got really worried then. "Nezumi, you're scaring me," he said softly, gripping the other's shoulder a bit tighter. "Did… something happen?"

Nezumi shook his head, though Shion had hit the nail right on the head. Instead of explaining himself, Nezumi just wrapped his arms around Shion's torso and hugged him tightly, tears he tried desperately not to cry soaking the otherwise fairly dry shirt. Shion hesitated at first, but then threaded his fingers through Nezumi's hair and wrapped the other arm around his shoulders.

"Oh, Nezumi…"

"I'm just… so… cold," Nezumi whispered, squeezing more tightly. Yes, he had been so cold lately.

Shion's hand combed through Nezumi's hair and trailed down to gently lift the man's chin until their eyes met. He smiled softly, his eyes far warmer than that of the man in Nezumi's dreams.

"So am I. Let's warm each other up."

Nezumi nodded as Shion wiped a tear from his cheek and smiled that carefree smile, the one he always seemed to manage even in the bleakest of situations. He loosened his grip and allowed Shion to manipulate his body. And when he found himself laying with Shion curled up behind his back, holding him tightly, he finally found his capacity to breathe again.

No, this was not a nightmare. This Shion, he was not a dream.