This mini-plotline was born when I did some research on pre-20th century medication. Go figure.

Thanks to those of you still reading this! It stretched out way longer with way less frequent updates than I imagined, but I know I still have at least one reader. You know who you are. Hope you all enjoy!

The day they came back was a long and quiet one. Daisya's pride had probably made him go the last stretch, and hobble through the Order's side door before stopping, out of breath. It was either the pride or the pills he'd been swallowing like sweets.

Kanda wasn't about to bring it up now. Mostly because he was sleeping, and there was no argument to be had with a comatose body. Once Kanda had carried him up to the infirmary, he'd been dosed with something foul-smelling and drifted off not long after. Didn't have enough energy to complain, thank fuck, or even laugh.

The head nurse had waited the few minutes it took for him to fall asleep, then sat Kanda down in her tiny office for the medical debrief. What were the injuries? How had they healed so far?

Telling the truth was a stupid fucking idea, so he'd just made something up along familiar lines. Couple of broken ribs from a rough dodge, slipped in a river crossing and broke the leg pretty badly. Wear and tear from fighting could explain the shit job of patching up he'd done. The head nurse knew about the blood, or had guessed at what those bastards back at the Asian Branch had given him, and she wouldn't ask too many questions. Yeah, she bitched at him whenever he came back with Daisya in a state like this (was this the third time? Fuck, it had to be at least), but she wasn't stupid. She knew there were limits to what she could get out of him.

Unlike someone they both knew.

"Kanda?"

"What?"

"You should have been paying attention," the head nurse said sternly.

"I wasn't." He couldn't muster up a scowl for the occasion, and settled for just staring.

"I asked if you think we'll need to break the leg again."

"Yeah. 's been two or three weeks since it happened. He's been walking part of it."

The nurse sighed, but he knew it wasn't at him.

"He can't leave for at least a week, do you understand?"

"What's it to me?"

"Noise won't be back for some days; he and his team were rerouted through the Pyrenees. General Tiedoll is on a mission, and Daisya is far too impertinent to listen to me, never mind that all I'm trying to do is make sure he can walk." She sighed again, and Kanda almost sighed with her. "So you'll have to keep him in line. He does listen to you, sometimes."

"Not enough." Not at all, unless it was just to try and get at him about Alma, and his past.

Then, he listened way too fucking closely.

"That should be all. Now," She smiled, creasing the skin at the corners of her eyes. "You take care of yourself, too. Off you go."

Kanda didn't need telling twice. All he wanted to do was get some food in him and hit the sack for a few hours.

He slid off the three-legged stool that was the other chair in the room, kicked it back beside the door, and left the head nurse turned around over her paperwork. There was the quiet but insidious sound of her scribbling down notes, to be stuffed into Daisya's already-bursting file. What a headache.

He closed the door behind him, and turned to head back through the long room that housed the hospital, but stopped. They'd put Daisya as close to the office as possible, and as far away from the door. There was the usual glass of water and bottle of meds on the table, but also a torn penny dreadful, and a pencil and paper. Something to keep him from getting too bored.

A smirk crossed his face. Sometimes Daisya felt like his own personal interruption, just another piece of grinning trash that God had tossed into his life for a bad joke, right down to the stocky build and the tattooed scars.

It felt weird, but not bad to see that he existed for everyone else, too.

The spare bandages Daisya carried everywhere had been used up in splints and slings along the way, but he had fucking insisted on keeping the old ones on, even though they were coming loose and getting stained. Fuck that, they were one big stain. The stains had their own stains. Coffee on top of blood on top of sweat.

But now the bandages had come off, showing the ugly, puckered tissue that spread over his head and down his shoulders.

He'd said that he kept them on because the burns still hurt, and then he'd said it was because of how it looked, and then he'd blathered his way out of it when Kanda had brought it up. It was all a bunch of bullshit. Probably. You never knew, with Daisya, how much he believed what he said.

Maybe he'd ask him about it once he was healed up again.

…

After the sixth night Daisya had spent in the infirmary, he woke up to a not unexpected shape looming over him. And a slow, burning pain on his skin.

"Oh."

He reached into his pocket, the one that he found out wasn't there any more. Right. Infirmary nightgown. No pockets. Must have stripped him when he was sleeping. Where would they put them? Table. Bedside table. Medicine on the bedside table.

He reached out and grabbed around until he felt the cold surface of the glass vial, and uncapped it, flicking off the stopper with a thumb. Damn. He'd have to sit up before taking them, otherwise they'd get stuck in his throat.

"Urrgh."

The other hand was pressed into service, pushing him up gently. He couldn't remember how many of his bones were intact, and how many had been broken again by the nurse to make sure they healed up properly.

It wasn't too bad, the pain that shot up through his chest. Maybe Kanda'd been feeling weird again and lent some blood to help.

Finally upright, he tossed a couple of the tablets down his throat, and grabbed the bedside glass of water to chase them down.

Now he was ready to function. He turned to the shape that had always been too tall, but seemed even bigger when you were still slumped over.

"When'd you get back? Kanda said you were off in Portugal."

"Last night," Marie replied gently, "You were out cold by the time I came up here."

"Thanks," Daisya said absently. Truth be told, he couldn't remember much of yesterday. "You get anywhere with your mission?"

It was a boring question after so many months, but Marie's answers could be interesting. The guy had a unique way of looking at the world. Not looking. That was the point.

"We had to take the long way home, but there were no other complications. The Noah was a false alarm."

"Come on, really? I've been waiting to hear about what they're actually like."

"General Sokalo says they're extremely cautious yet incredibly dangerous."

Daisya remembered the few times he'd seen the giant of a man. The last memory he had was of a shouting match with Tiedoll and General Nine on one side, and General Sokalo on the other. He'd never known how big the old man's vocabulary was until then.

"He didn't actually say that in those exact words, did he?"

"No."

"Got it."

Marie turned his head towards the rest of the ward, as if to check on something, and then back to Daisya.

"Are you all right?" asked Marie, quiet, like he was talking to some jumpy animal.

"Of course!" He gave Marie his best obnoxious grin. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you've got more broken bones than you know the names of."

"Joke's on you, I actually paid attention in first aid."

"I stand by what I said."

"Hey! That was a nice one, though."

They had a laugh, a good one, but it died down fast. Marie was back to his serious self. Daisya hadn't noticed it at the time, what with him being gone so much of the time, but he'd grown out of the shy kind of quiet he'd had. Back then, he'd been young. Now he felt more like…

Almost like the old man, but still a ways off.

He swallowed hard.

"Tell the truth," said Marie, "Are you recovering well?"

"Pretty near. I've got my medicine, so if I just keep popping it, then—" He waved his hands in a kind of shrug, giving up on words for the time being.

"Everything should be all right. I see."

It has taken Daisya a while to figure it out, but Marie actually did have some different tones of voice beyond neutral and patient. This one was a bit ironic.

"Well, anyway, I'm pretty sure we got to the objective."

"'Pretty sure'?"

"Eh gotta say, it was hard. " He put up his best dumb kid face, to throw Marie off the scent. "This Innocence was pretty vicious. I think it got hidden in a bell, but I was knocked out when Kanda found it. It kept trying to knock the place down on top of us."

"I see."

Marie's body language closed up just slightly, the shoulders squaring from their comfortable slouch.

"You should probably ask him," Daisya continued, watching his reaction, "He was in a bad mood, so I didn't bother."

"I already did, but he pointed me to you."

"What?" Daisya made a face he knew Marie couldn't see, and shrugged. "Figures. He's still sulking, so I guess I have to fill you in."

Marie smiled wryly. "He is, unfortunately. Go ahead."

"The Innocence was in this an abbey or castle or something — at least it looked like a castle — and it was pretty beat up. The castle, I mean, not the Innocence…"

…

The story dragged on, with Marie listening patiently. Daisya seemed to be enjoying himself, and with a few weeks as Kanda's partner, an active audience would do him some good.

Actually, he was doing far better than Marie had expected. Kanda made it sound like Daisya was just barely clinging to life and sanity some days before, but here he was chattering like a songbird. He couldn't help but smile. Hard to believe that for a moment, he had been worried about him.

Not concerned, not exasperated, but wading through the cold, thin waters of worry.

Among the exorcists, no one knew who would be next.

"And the windows — hey, what're you laughing at?"

Daisya's voice took on an comically suspicious note.

"Nothing," he lied, straightening his features. "Go on."

"Okay, so I, because I'm smart, figured out…"

About halfway through the next section of the story, there was a break in the flow of words filled by the soft clink of glass on wood. Daisya must have taken some more of his medication. This had to be more than the recommended dose.

The story's flow suddenly shifted to a more rehearsed cadence as it started to close.

"…so I wasn't really paying that much attention, because it's way too tedious, so I got knocked out by a chunk of stone or some bullshit, and then I think I fell off the stairs. Pretty embarrassing but hey, not really my fault."

The last sentence was genuinely sheepish, but Marie had his suspicions about the rest of it. People's voices betrayed lies as much as did their faces, and he'd had years to memorize Daisya's patterns, interspersed as they were with laughter.

"I see." It was ironic that he still used the phrase, but sight was so built into language that he could not say it any other way.

He heard Daisya stretch, then grunt in pain and exhale.

"You hear anything about when they're letting me out of here? It's been ages since I actually broke my leg, and Kanda healed me up pretty good then."

"It's only been a few days, Daisya. I'll have a word with the head nurse."

"Awesome. She still hasn't forgotten that time I kinda threw us off that cliff and had to get all my ribs put back together, but I think she likes you."

"I still haven't forgotten it. Daisya, you don't have a good record with injuries."

"Ugh, you got that right. I already look like some kind of carcass from the burns, you know, so this can't be much worse. I'm not going to have much luck with the ladies, am I?"

The sheets rustled again, and there was the clicking of polished wood on wood. Crutches.

"I don't think the scars would be the problem." The youngster in him had to say it.

"Marie—"

"Where are you going?"

"Figured it was time for a little walk. My leg's still wrecked, but I need to get the blood flowing, otherwise I'll get gangrene, or something."

"I'll help you up."

"Thanks." There it was. The tiny crack in the throat that showed when Daisya's words were heartfelt, once in a blue moon. For just a moment his scratchy adolescent voice slipped down a notch into a more musical, lower tone.

They hadn't practiced songs together, in a while. The crutches clicked one against the other, then made a more resonant noise once the end of one was placed firmly on the floor.

He held out a hand, and felt Daisya's palm settle on it.

"All ready?"

"Yes."

"I'll hop up in three, two, one—"

Marie caught the weight as Daisya got the one crutch steady, and then let go to grab the other one.

"All right?"

"Yep! Let's get going, slowpoke."

Marie stood to follow the disjointed, dragging noise out of the room, but held back for just a moment. Daisya had forgotten his medication, one nearly-empty bottle on the bedside table.

A handful of half-formed thoughts crystallized into one idea, and he reached out and grabbed it quietly as only he could before slipping it into his coat pocket. The head nurse could arrange a placebo.

"Hey, coming along or not?"

"Yes, in a second."

Maybe it was that Daisya never worried about himself. Nature abhors a vacuum.

…

As the seventh evening turned into the seventh night after Daisya got back, he and Kanda were still sitting in Lenalee's room, passing around her German phrase book. They were all technically supposed to know English, French, German, and Russian, but Tiedoll spoke French with all his apprentices, and English was the de facto language of the Order. It was really only German and Russian that were the problem.

"Hey." Daisya's eyes flicked back and forth. "What's the time? Seven?"

Kanda looked at him oddly.

"It's eleven."

"Well that was off by a while. Still, I guess it's close enough to dinner time."

"Not at all."

"Shut up, Kanda, and let me have some peace."

"Shut up yourself."

"It's not that early, is it?" Lenalee chimed in, "Even my brother says I should be in bed by ten."

Daisya shrugged. "Guess so."

A few minutes later, he grabbed his crutches and shuffled out, muttering something neither of them could make out.

Lenalee waited for the footsteps to fade before whispering to Kanda. "Are you sure he's all right?"

Kanda had no such courtesy, scoffing instead. "He's just bored."

…

The eighth night, Daisya was trying to dance around the issue, and Lenalee was trying to step on his foot.

"Kanda was saying that you hurt yourself really badly."

Daisya stumbled backwards, further into his room.

"Yeah, right. He didn't even tell Marie how I got hurt. I'm telling you, I just broke my leg."

Each word seemed to cut the other off, as if they were lined up to jump off his tongue but couldn't get the timing right. His feet, which never really were under his complete control, drifted further back.

"Still, you're acting like you're scared of something, and he's the only thing you could be scared of."

Daisya was only half aware of his left hand climbing up beside his cheek, curling his fingers to half-hide his sight. Jesus, what was it doing that for? It was his hand, he should be informed of all movements. And he should be able to grant written permission for them.

"Nah, him? I'm just tired, that's all."

He bumped into the wall, and flinched. He could feel Lenalee's eyes on him. Yeuuurgh. Get them off, get off, get off!

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"If you say so." She sounded entirely unconvinced. Entirely unconvinced...that was a real nice sentence. A smart-sounding phrase. Good job.

After she'd turned and shut the door, Daisya collapsed, crouched down on the floor. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears.

Oh, shit.

It was like he was drowning. He couldn't breathe.

…

The ninth day, Daisya wandered down to breakfast with black circles under his eyes dark enough to warrant a comment from Lenalee.

"Did you get enough sleep last night?" she asked, passing the syrup to Kanda beside her, "You look tired."

Daisya waved a hand carelessly.

"Nah, I'm fine. Could you pass me an apple?"

Kanda tossed him a fruit, but he missed the midair catch.

"Hah."

"Shut up."

"Jerry's making some more french toast, if you want."

"I'm not that hungry."

…

The ninth afternoon, the three of them were walking down to the training halls, Lenalee out front and Kanda dragging his heels behind.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Lenalee asked again, "You looked pretty sick."

Daisya shrugged, and smiled wanly.

"That's just what happens when you run around on an empty stomach. I'm fi—"

Kanda caught him before he hit the floor.

…

The ninth night after Daisya got back, he was stuck in the infirmary. Marie went to visit his teammate again. The boy sounded not a bit tired when he spoke, a contrast to the story he'd heard in bits and pieces from Kanda and Lena.

"Yo. You back again?"

Marie nodded, and sat down in the chair.

"I wanted to see what it was this time."

Daisya shrugged.

"Just got sick and really, really tired. And my stomach's doing something weird. Flu, or whatever. Say, you should bring Kanda with you so I can give it to him. That kid never seems to get sick."

Daisya made a noise so indignant Marie had to smile.

"Kanda is lucky."

"Yeah, I've seen. He can heal pretty well, can't he?"

Marie chose his next words carefully. Daisya sounded like he was also trying to get some information.

"Yes, it's how he's so strong. His muscles heal as soon as they tear."

"No, I mean, he can heal other people, right?"

Daisya most certainly knew the answer to that question, or had eavesdropped, or had guessed.

"Where did you hear that?"

There was a pause.

"Dunno. Just heard it around. And if he can heal himself, there's nothing saying he can't use that on other people."

For once, Marie wished he had his sight back. Daisya's voice wasn't giving him any clues on why he wanted to know. Time for a change of tack.

…

"Kanda does heal quickly, yes, but it is…taxing to use that ability on others."

Marie gave the simple statement a bit of something ominous, but Daisya was damned if he could figure it out. His brain was fuzzy from this bed rest, and everything else. He couldn't focus.

"Say, Marie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you—" He started, then stopped. "I mean…"

"What?"

What was it he'd been trying to say?

Kanda spoke in riddles and half-sentences and implications, when he could be bothered to speak, and there were so many things Daisya wanted to know. So many things he had wanted to know, from the very beginning, when Tiedoll wandered in with a stupid haircut and the words that he'd always wanted to hear but never dared acknowledge.

Why me?

"I…"

He doubted any of the kids knew too much, and those that did were just as clammed up as Kanda. There were things he didn't want to know, things he specifically would never ask about. Lenalee, and the blood pooling in her skirts.

Is this a blessing? Is it a curse?

But Marie…he knew some things about Kanda. He was older than them all, and if he wasn't actually wiser he at least acted like it.

What is Innocence?

"Daisya?"

He could understand that the Innocence might want to lash out, against the world that hurt it, because that's what he'd done. But it had been twice, now, and it was no mere sting but a full-on tantrum that had nearly killed—

He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't stop thinking about it.

Do you know what happened to Kanda? What happened to Lena? How much did they tell you, about this or about anything? Who are you to him? Were you there back then, in Kanda's past? How do you know about all this? Do you know what happened to me? Do I know what happened to me? Do you have a family? Is this our family? How long is it until we die? Are we family? What is family? Why did I hate my old one so much and why do I want this one so badly?

"Never mind. I'm okay."

His voice cracked, and he realized that all this time he'd been looking down and away, even though Marie wouldn't notice how bloodshot his eyes were, or how his muscles had tightened and pulled his face into a grimace.

But now Marie had turned to face him, standing just in front of him and listening intently. He was hunched over as he often was, arms drawn in and bent so that his hands braced off his knees, like a teacher bending down to a child's level. Yes, he was taking after the old man, but he was his own person, cooler and calmer without being any less kind.

"Daisya, do you want to stay at the Order?"

He froze. This wasn't how he'd planned for this conversation to go. He hadn't planned for any of it, of course, but even with him having grown up and all he hadn't expected Marie to do this.

"Yeah," he said, but it was harder than he'd thought to kick the words up his throat and out into the world. "Yeah, I do."

"I know."

It was a winding way to get to the real question, but now Daisya realized—

"It's everything I ever wanted." He tried to cough, and clean out his throat, but it was still too scratchy. "And you guys are still here. So—"

He couldn't even finish.

"I don't know. I don't know anything, you know?"

It was kind of cruel to make Marie put up with all of this, but he didn't feel like he could do this in front of Lenalee, or Kanda again, and Tiedoll would ask too many questions.

He looked up, and made contact with the milk-white eyes that he now realized had watched over him since he came back. Not watched, literally, but…

"But you know, don't you? Why some people don't like it?"

Marie exhaled, not quite sighing, and nodded.

"I do. I will not tell you what to do, but…" He shrugged. "I know what happens if you stay."

Daisya swallowed hard, and hummed a noise of acknowledgment. Marie wouldn't see it if he nodded. It all felt so weird, and tired, for him to be even thinking this…

"I missed my afternoon dose," he lied. "That's probably why I'm not doing so good."

"I see. I'll ask the Head Nurse for some more on my way out."

"Thanks, Marie."

…

Three days later, the sound of quick, clumsy footsteps above him forced Marie to stop on the staircase and call out.

"Daisya? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hey! Old man!" The high-speed shuffling noise descended, stopping with him just down from his room. "What's up? Are we going to the dojo?"

"Yes, I am," he said, then added quickly: "But you shouldn't start training so soon."

The boy just laughed, and there was a kind of chalk-like noise that must have come from his crutches as he leaned on them, and the brushing of cloth as he swayed back and forth. Not even this injury compounded with the withdrawal could keep him from moving; in its own way, it was amazing.

"You're not going to catch me near there until the head nurse lets me. Man, that lady's scary! So why'd you call me down here?"

"I didn't think you'd be out this early," Marie said carefully.

"Oh, yeah, it was pretty weird. Felt like hell for a few days, then I kind of fainted, as Kanda's probably told you. Or maybe I did that. But then, here I am! Don't really feel too bad any more. Apart from the legs. And the ribs. You know what I mean. I'm not sick any more, just injured, you know. A delicate little lamb, if you ask Nursey."

"I'm glad."

"And you're not going to tell anyone about what we talked about, right? Kanda's going to go ballistic if he gets it into his head that I'm leaving."

"Don't worry, I won't. But why would Kanda do that?" He, of all people, should be able to understand.

"I dunno." Daisya's voice was now quieter, a sign that he had either thought about it for some time, or that he was lying. "Doesn't want another exorcist's worth of work, probably."

…

Marie knocked once on the door, and waited.

"Go away." He said it every time, just in case it was a finder, or someone who'd taken the wrong turn in the tower of identical doorways.

"It's me."

It took a few seconds of faint grumbling before Kanda undid first the bolts, then the lock. It had been the one thing he'd asked for, when they gave him a room. Finally, the latch clicked, and the door swung inward. It would be just enough for him to get through, and no more.

"Come in."

He obeyed silently, and waited until Kanda had re-bolted the door before starting.

"How many times have you healed Daisya?"

"What?"

"The blood. I remember you accidentally did it to me."

"I know. Why?" There was a wariness in his voice, creeping up and over the sullen attitude.

"I know we asked you for it, when he was burned. You know there was no other option. But the scarring…" He let the pause fill in what he was reluctant to say. "He's clumsy. It shows."

Kanda sat down on his bed, and shifted position, likely pulling his legs under him. They were all getting older now, but Kanda's clear voice still belonged to a child.

"Ugh. Yeah, he's still a dumbass."

"You told him about it?"

"Just about the blood, so he'd finally shut the fuck up about it."

"About what it costs you?"

Silence. Kanda was reluctant to admit any weakness, let alone something that could cost him his life.

"I won't tell him anything," he promised, "Unless you ask me to."

"I didn't tell him. Didn't fucking want him to start talking again."

He smiled, trying to put them both at ease. "I can understand."

"Huh."

It might have been wishful thinking, but that sounded something like a chuckle.

"So you had to use it this mission."

"Yeah."

"And before this?"

"Like I said, what do you care?"

"Kanda, you know already."

Kanda swallowed hard, and sighed.

"Fuck it, you're right. I only—" He bit down on the word, clearly struggling with the implications of what Marie had made him say. "I only do it when he's not going to make it through without it."

"Just the two times? Are you sure?"

Tiedoll knew far more about it than he did, but the general had made it far too clear that Kanda's injuries were as serious as any other's, if only in a different way. If Kanda hadn't been telling him the full story, there might be consequences for them all.

"A few more. Once he got a cut infected, so I slipped some in when I was doing first aid."

"That's—!"

"He's too damn stupid to notice!" snapped Kanda. "Now shut up."

"Kanda!" It was true, he would never tell anyone, but Marie had to step in now. "What did General Tiedoll tell you? You can't waste it — you know, if you use too much, you're going to die—"

"Trust me, I don't like helping him unless I have to."

"I do."

"You what?"

"Trust you. And I know you understand what's at stake, but you have to take care of yourself. If we have to deal with you and Daisya putting your lives in jeopardy, it will put more people in danger."

He was like a street cat, that prowled around you for minutes before he'd sniff at what was in your hand, and take a bite, before leaping away again. Not for the first time, Marie wanted to hear who was responsible for Kanda's origin.

"I know." The young voice cracked, then turned rough and raw. "Budapest."

"What?"

"What'd I fucking tell you guys about it? What happened?"

"That you woke up, Daisya was still sleeping, and the roof had started to collapse before you could get him to safety."

"Right."

"Kanda, why is this important right now?"

"Because that's not what happened." His words trembled like a glass in a singer's hand, ready to shatter again.

"I remember—"

"No. I lied. Hell, you guys probably guessed I was lying. I don't remember all of it. There was just — there was fucking smoke everywhere, and I didn't even know if I was damn well awake or asleep. No fucking clue. What I remember — I don't know, I was dreaming, and then he woke me up, and I was going to jump and I froze."

There was a long, shuddering breath, and then the story continued in a voice now stony as lava hardened over a flow. Barely solid, and burning with an indescribable heat.

"He pushed me out. Two stories down, that fucking bastard. Right when everything went to shit. I think the lamp exploded. Something shattered, something glass, I know that. The roof fell in, on top of him, before he remembered he was supposed to fucking get out of there. I saw it. He was standing there, and then — and then he wasn't, and I couldn't even hear him screaming, and somehow he got out, I don't know how, and I had to catch him, and then…"

The story scrambled to a halt, sentences smashing into each other like marbles in the schoolyard, and Kanda couldn't speak his breathing still loud in Marie's ears.

"Fuck." His voice had long since broken.

What had they done to him?

"Fuck it. Fuck him. I don't know what he was thinking, but he told me not to rat him out, so I didn't. And I kept quiet, until now. Don't tell the old man." He spat it out like afterthought.

Marie couldn't say anything besides: "I won't."

But what he could stay there, and sit beside Yuu until the sound of his breathing quieted down, and became calm again.