Fic: Losing Sight
Title: Losing Sight
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/Romance
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairing(s): pre-slash Reborn/Lambo
Summary: 'I knew I should've taken that damned bazooka away the first time I saw you playing with it."
A/N: One-shot.
Something was pricking at the inside of his right elbow. He knew it should probably hurt, but for some reason he couldn't feel anything besides a niggling annoyance at having a needle jammed into his muscle tissue.
Someone was gripping his left hand like they were afraid it would slip away. But once again, he couldn't actually feel anything other than the pressure that told him his hand was probably in danger of being broken if the person decided to squeeze it any harder.
Something thick and cloth-like was covering his right eye, forcing it to stay closed, even as his left adjusted itself to the harsh lighting. With his free hand, he reached up to touch the obstruction, and fought against the strong urge to rip that annoying little needle out while he was at it.
"Why..." Lambo's voice died in the scratchy rattle of disuse. He swallowed a few times before trying again. "Why is my eye bandaged?"
"I knew I should've taken that damned bazooka away the first time I saw you playing with it."
By turning his head to the left, his good eye was able to focus on the speaker. Vague surprise registered along with the person's identity, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to feel more than that.
"Ree...born...?"
"I knew something like this would happen," the man continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "Everytime your future self appeared, you were being thrown into potential danger. But you always came back fine, so I didn't do anything to stop it."
For some reason, Reborn was the one holding onto his hand like there was going to be no tommorrow. A pleasantly warm and almost fuzzy feeling filled him and Lambo realized that he must be drugged, because that could be the only explaination for this strange emotion in correlation with Reborn of all people.
"What happened?"
Reborn shook his head at the question. "It was just a simple mission. Should have been easy, even for an idiot cow like yourself." Lambo tried to smile, but wasn't entirely sure if he had succeeded or not.
"Yeah...I remember going into the factory," he paused for a moment, "with...Ipin-chan...is she okay?"
"She's fine," Reborn replied. His voice sounded strange to Lambo's ears. Bitter almost. "She's probably the only reason you're alive right now."
"Oh dear..." Lambo coughed again and tried to sit up, but quickly realized it was a futile effort. "I should probably thank her then. What happened after I went back to the past?"
"Your younger self was crying so loudly that it caught the attention of the guards," Reborn explained. "Ipin did all she could to keep them from killing you both while your younger self tried to "help"."
Lambo winced as he remembered how he had always "helped" when he was younger.
"When you switched back, you probably weren't expecting an attack, and they got you before you could even register anything." There was a beat of silence. "At least, thats how Ipin told it."
"I don't even remember getting back," Lambo mused. "So they must have hit me pretty hard."
"Your right eye was damaged beyond repair."
Lambo figured he must have been more drugged than he previously thought, because for a moment there Reborn had sounded almost like he was concerned.
For Lambo.
Which was, of course, ridiculous.
"Oh dear."
"Yeah. It's still in there, but you won't be able to use it anymore, so they might as well just take it out and get it over with."
"But that would feel really weird," Lambo mused, too tired to actually whine. "More weird than I feel right now, which is saying something." He glanced down at the hand which Reborn still held, though now in a more relaxed grip. "So...should I throw out one of my horns, grow wings, and start eating purple people?"
Reborn gave him a look like maybe he too was beginning to realize just how drugged Lambo was right then.
"What?"
"You know," Lambo continued. "Like the song? He was a one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple-people-eater..."
"Are you high?"
"There's a very distinct possibility of that. Especially considering how I'm pretty sure you're a hallucination because the REAL Reborn would never be this nice, or hold my hand, or make me feel all warm and fuzzy..."
Now Reborn just looked amused (which was somehow scarier than his normal "annoy-me-and-I-will-make-you-wish-I-had-shot-you-in-the-head" expression and just served to drive Lambo's point home even harder than the man's previous actions) though in the next moment, it was gone and the man had released his hand in favor of standing and making his way towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Lambo asked, lolling his head so he could watch the older man put his hat back on. Funny. Lambo hadn't even noticed he wasn't wearing it.
"Tsuna told me to stay here until you woke up. You're awake, so I'm leaving." And then he was gone, but not before Lambo saw the barely perceptible flicker of worry cross the hitman's face.
The Thunder guardian raised his hand to wave, and once again had to physically stop himself from ripping that damned needle out.
Rating: T
Genre: Angst/Romance
Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn
Pairing(s): pre-slash Reborn/Lambo
Summary: 'I knew I should've taken that damned bazooka away the first time I saw you playing with it."
A/N: One-shot.
Something was pricking at the inside of his right elbow. He knew it should probably hurt, but for some reason he couldn't feel anything besides a niggling annoyance at having a needle jammed into his muscle tissue.
Someone was gripping his left hand like they were afraid it would slip away. But once again, he couldn't actually feel anything other than the pressure that told him his hand was probably in danger of being broken if the person decided to squeeze it any harder.
Something thick and cloth-like was covering his right eye, forcing it to stay closed, even as his left adjusted itself to the harsh lighting. With his free hand, he reached up to touch the obstruction, and fought against the strong urge to rip that annoying little needle out while he was at it.
"Why..." Lambo's voice died in the scratchy rattle of disuse. He swallowed a few times before trying again. "Why is my eye bandaged?"
"I knew I should've taken that damned bazooka away the first time I saw you playing with it."
By turning his head to the left, his good eye was able to focus on the speaker. Vague surprise registered along with the person's identity, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to feel more than that.
"Ree...born...?"
"I knew something like this would happen," the man continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "Everytime your future self appeared, you were being thrown into potential danger. But you always came back fine, so I didn't do anything to stop it."
For some reason, Reborn was the one holding onto his hand like there was going to be no tommorrow. A pleasantly warm and almost fuzzy feeling filled him and Lambo realized that he must be drugged, because that could be the only explaination for this strange emotion in correlation with Reborn of all people.
"What happened?"
Reborn shook his head at the question. "It was just a simple mission. Should have been easy, even for an idiot cow like yourself." Lambo tried to smile, but wasn't entirely sure if he had succeeded or not.
"Yeah...I remember going into the factory," he paused for a moment, "with...Ipin-chan...is she okay?"
"She's fine," Reborn replied. His voice sounded strange to Lambo's ears. Bitter almost. "She's probably the only reason you're alive right now."
"Oh dear..." Lambo coughed again and tried to sit up, but quickly realized it was a futile effort. "I should probably thank her then. What happened after I went back to the past?"
"Your younger self was crying so loudly that it caught the attention of the guards," Reborn explained. "Ipin did all she could to keep them from killing you both while your younger self tried to "help"."
Lambo winced as he remembered how he had always "helped" when he was younger.
"When you switched back, you probably weren't expecting an attack, and they got you before you could even register anything." There was a beat of silence. "At least, thats how Ipin told it."
"I don't even remember getting back," Lambo mused. "So they must have hit me pretty hard."
"Your right eye was damaged beyond repair."
Lambo figured he must have been more drugged than he previously thought, because for a moment there Reborn had sounded almost like he was concerned.
For Lambo.
Which was, of course, ridiculous.
"Oh dear."
"Yeah. It's still in there, but you won't be able to use it anymore, so they might as well just take it out and get it over with."
"But that would feel really weird," Lambo mused, too tired to actually whine. "More weird than I feel right now, which is saying something." He glanced down at the hand which Reborn still held, though now in a more relaxed grip. "So...should I throw out one of my horns, grow wings, and start eating purple people?"
Reborn gave him a look like maybe he too was beginning to realize just how drugged Lambo was right then.
"What?"
"You know," Lambo continued. "Like the song? He was a one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple-people-eater..."
"Are you high?"
"There's a very distinct possibility of that. Especially considering how I'm pretty sure you're a hallucination because the REAL Reborn would never be this nice, or hold my hand, or make me feel all warm and fuzzy..."
Now Reborn just looked amused (which was somehow scarier than his normal "annoy-me-and-I-will-make-you-wish-I-had-shot-you-in-the-head" expression and just served to drive Lambo's point home even harder than the man's previous actions) though in the next moment, it was gone and the man had released his hand in favor of standing and making his way towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Lambo asked, lolling his head so he could watch the older man put his hat back on. Funny. Lambo hadn't even noticed he wasn't wearing it.
"Tsuna told me to stay here until you woke up. You're awake, so I'm leaving." And then he was gone, but not before Lambo saw the barely perceptible flicker of worry cross the hitman's face.
The Thunder guardian raised his hand to wave, and once again had to physically stop himself from ripping that damned needle out.