Fall to Pieces, Part Two
Title: Fall to Pieces, Part Two
Pairing: Ikkaku/Yumichika
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some angst
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach or its characters.
[Part One]
Fall to Pieces, Part Two
He’s coming apart at the seams. No matter how hard he tries, how desperately he clings to reason, his heart keeps breaking apart, slipping between his fingertips. Everything is muddled, like he’s chained to the bottom of a murky lake. All he feels is emptiness and pain.
The pain is indescribable. It’s not the dull ache he thought it would be; it’s sharp and poignant, like a knife in his side. He can’t escape it. It’s there when he eats, when he sleeps, when he breathes or even thinks. Nothing could have prepared him for this kind of torment. He wonders if it will get better in time, or if he’ll even survive long enough to find out.
He wonders if Ikkaku cares.
----
A week without him. A whole week without the sight of his face, the sound of his voice, or the feel of his warmth in the bed. Ikkaku isn’t sure what he misses most, but he knows he misses Yumichika more than anything he’s ever missed before. He’s felt a lot of things in his life. Hunger, pain, anger-emotions so intense that they almost seemed unbearable. But this... this is something new. Loneliness. He never knew that loneliness could hurt so damn bad.
He wonders where Yumichika is. Probably off somewhere, happy as can be. That’s the thing about Yumi; he can adapt to just about anything. Dump him in the ocean and he’ll grow fins; throw him in the air and he’ll sprout wings. Not like Ikkaku... He’s stuck here, stagnant and alone. He ain’t adapting to anything.
He’s beginning to realize why Yumi left.
----
Here he goes again. He doesn’t know why he does this, doesn’t know why he keeps ending up back at this door. Their door. It’s Ikkaku’s door now, and Yumichika keeps telling himself that over and over again. He doesn’t live here any more. And, no matter how many times his feet lead him here, he’ll never take those final steps inside.
He stares at the door and wonders if Ikkaku is on the other side.
But it doesn’t matter. It’s been over a month, and Ikkaku’s probably forgotten about him. He’s torturing himself for no reason, chasing after something that’s beyond impossible. There’s nothing but memories behind that door. Nothing but pain.
He knows he should leave.
----
He steps through the door and into a dream. The face in front of him can’t be real. There’s no way Yumichika could ever look that sad... not unless it’s Ikkaku’s fault. And it is his fault. It’s always been his fault. Yumi’s been there through thick and thin... and all Ikkaku’s been is thick. Excuses don’t matter any more. He can’t say that it’s just in his nature or that he’s always been that way. He can’t do anything but that thing he never does.
He apologizes. Profusely, and repeatedly, and in more ways than one. He’s tempted to get down on his knees, but Yumi’s there holding him, crushing him tightly like he’ll never let go.
It feels perfect. Right. Better than anything he’s ever felt before. And he suddenly realizes what he’s known all along. That home isn’t a place or a room or a bed, it’s a pair of arms to hold him and a mouth that whispers his name. It’s in those warm eyes and those caring hands, in the time they spend together. He belongs here, feels free here, and he doesn’t bother to wonder how the hell it happened. All he knows is that Yumichika’s mouth is on his and that they’re flying, two birds soaring high above the world. Nothing else matters. The world falls away and it’s the two of them together, as if time has stopped or disappeared completely.
He doesn’t stop to wonder how he got so lucky. He doesn’t stop at all, just takes the pretty man by the hand and leads him inside.
----
~TBC~
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