madimpossibledreamer | Deimos Soul

I’m aware Deimos is a god of dread, so might be a little out of place with a fluff-fic, but a) the Syndicate’s based on Mars, so a Mars moon isn’t a stretch and b) that’s where Yagami’s been living for far too long. Also c), I listened to an English cover of Rasen|Spiral while writing this, which doesn’t fully fit the tone it’s transitioning to either, so.
today was also difficult

Main Points:
Judgment|Judge Eyes/Cowboy Bebop
Chapter Summary: Actually Cowboy Bebop plot-relevant aftermath.
Word Count: 650
Rating: Teen
warnings: lighter on the ptsd/depression, but it isn't absent, either, though there are hints he's starting to finally work through the trauma

        Yagami wakes up. He’d always refused drugs in the Syndicate, half terrified of any longer spent vulnerable, so it’s pretty quick to realize this is After.
        Or he’s dead. Given that he doesn’t hurt, that’s a real possibility, too.
        He hears a door open. Machines beep. He keeps his eyes closed through the nurse’s check-up, the fear in Kaito-san’s voice as he asks and the reassurance in the man’s voice, and his lungs ache for a cig.
        He waits, though, one last little haven of comfort, the grains of sand disappearing below the horizon, until they’re alone, at which point he pushes past the headache lurking on the horizon, glancing at the ex-cop with something like a reassuring smile. “Hey, Kaito-san,” he manages, voice crackling through disuse.
        “I know,” Kaito-san says simply—that’s right, he’d mentioned something about being unable to recognize reality if it punched him in the face, metal ringing the fingers. Just a little scrap he’d tossed away, but Kaito-san with his big arms and bigger heart had gathered it up and tucked it away, like it was precious. Like Takayuki is precious. Anchoring him, because he’s lived this a million times, but Kaito-san never remembers.
        His hands ache, longing to find his pack of smokes. Like they’d leave him those in a hospital. One last petty wish. “Are you going to kill me?” He’d thought about it, because Kaito-san can’t abide betrayal, hates liars and yet he’d put up with Ta-bo’s continual lying and betrayal, every word out of his mouth, investigator’s instincts telling him, probably, how fake and hollow his partner is.
        Kaito-san swallows, but he refuses to look away. “Nah. I love you.” He’s said it before, always with a qualifier, mostly through his cooking, but sometimes out loud. You’re my best friend, he’s said. After it’s all said and done, you mean more to me than anyone. And Yagami’s nothing if not bright, too bright, a supernova in slow motion. He’s seen the signs, and Saori-san agreed.
        But if he’s saying that, he isn’t running anymore. He’s finally figured out how he feels, how they both feel. He’s not worried about how anyone Yagami gets close to dies or suffers, how much of a curse he is. Takayuki feels tired. He should’ve cut out and run years ago, before he got under Kaito-san’s skin, before that big teddy bear got under his, metal arm and all.
        The Mole is dead, he reminds himself. Mafuyu’s safe, now.
        And maybe, underneath it all, there’s lurking more nonsense thoughts and images he’ll blame on the drugs, thoughts about being baptized in blood and fire, and the assurances of priests he’d half forgotten about how a baptism was being reborn. Maybe, maybe he can finally stop being a dead man, and live for tomorrow. He lets himself smile, genuine and not holding anything back for the first time in a long while. “Are you going to keep me safe?” He can’t say it back, not yet, but hopes that Kaito-san understands him anyway, just like partners do. Just like they’ve always done.
        And at the joyful returned shit-eating grin on the big lug’s face, he understands completely. “Despite a certain dumbass’s efforts to make it harder than our bounties together? Yeah, I think I will.”
        “You can hold my hand, you know,” Yagami announces and tries not to laugh as the huge ex-cop tries not to look too eager while simultaneously vaulting across the room to sit by his side. Trying to stay awake through the yawns.
        “Go ahead and sleep, Ta-bo. I’ll still be here when you wake up,” Kaito-san promises, deep rumble a lullaby like the ambience of their ship. As he falls back into darkness, this one warm and comforting, the hand dwarfing his an anchor to reality, the thought crosses his mind, adorable and amusing, I think I just scored myself a boyfriend.