Open bag, release cat (AKA The Lizard Incident)

[moonshadows]

            Beneath my hands, Sanzo’s heartbeat falters. I’m losing him. The last dregs of my chi reserves flow down my arms and through my hands, both of which are splayed against Sanzo’s bare chest. Dozens of cuts and wounds cover his body, and it’s all I can do to slow his death. No more chi remains; I start using my own life-force, trying to get him stabilized. As the thread of my life merges with Sanzo’s flickering essence, I can see clearly how much damage there is, and how weak he is. Damn. I could kill myself pouring my life-energy into him, and there would still only be a slim chance of him surviving. And even if he does, what then? An image swims in my mind’s eye: Sanzo recovered and asking Gojyo and Goku where I am. No. It would kill him. He practically suicides any time one of us is wounded because of our involvement with him, and I know that my continued survival is one of the few reasons he has to live.

            “GOKU!” My voice is hoarse, as though I’ve been screaming. I can sense Goku’s eyes on me. “Sanzo is dying. I can’t hold him. If you want him to live, I’m going to need to take some of your energy and give it to him.” I can’t look up; my life winds out through my hands, keeping Sanzo barely alive.

            “What do I have to do?” There is the slightest hint of fear in his voice.

            “Place your hands on his chest.” I grit my teeth – I can not fall unconscious, not now!

            Goku’s hands enter my line of sight, and in a flash mine cover them, pressing them onto Sanzo’s chest. Now it is Goku’s chi that I am pouring into our friend. Goku gasps as our life-energies merge slightly, and it is as though we stand before each other with our souls exposed.

            “Hakkai—!” Goku exclaims as he sees into my heart, and then the draining of his chi quiets him. I know that he is seeing the darkness of my heart clearly for the first time, but he can also feel Sanzo’s life flicker, and concern for Sanzo takes precedence over concern for me.

            Goku’s chi is very strong; I am able to strengthen Sanzo’s life-energy and he begins to stabilize. All my attention is focused inwards, and I do not see Gojyo kneel next to me and place his hand on Sanzo’s chest. There is a moment of panic as he lifts my right hand off of Goku’s and places it on his own.

            “Damned if I’m going to just stand by and watch!” he growls, and all of our souls intertwine.

            I pull from the chi reserves that Goku and Gojyo have, fully stabilizing Sanzo. No more need to take from my own life force to keep him alive. Deep breath. Concentrate on the situation. Poison has already been neutralized. Lungs are intact. Shoulder has been repaired. With a small sigh of determined relief I pull more from my friends and begin closing the deepest, life-threatening wounds. I can feel them droop under the strain, and also their quiet wonder that I do this regularly without complaint or even a hint that healing drains me this much.

            I finally get the bleeding to stop, and all the internal organ damage has been repaired. Gojyo’s reserves are drained, and in a moment of strange, wordless understanding, we all agree to let Gojyo go prepare food and beds. Goku informs me through our mingled chi that merely stable isn’t good enough; he has a truly tremendous reserve and he fairly demands that I use it to heal Sanzo a bit more. When his reserve runs dry, however, I put my foot down. I refuse to drain his life-energy to heal Sanzo, and enforce this by the simple method of lifting my hands and passing out.

            *********************************************************

            I wake up to Hakuryuu nuzzling my cheek and the smell of burned oatmeal. It takes an effort to force my gummy eyes to open and try to sit up. Immediately, Gojyo is behind me, propping me up.

            “Wha—?” I don’t get to finish the word, because there is a spoon full of oatmeal suddenly in my mouth.

            “It was the only thing I could figure out how to cook. I know it sucks, but you’re going to eat it!”

            I swallow without complaint, tears blurring the little sight I have, touched deeply by the thick concern in Gojyo’s voice. Blind and weak, I allow myself to be fed as though I were a newly-hatched bird. Finally, I hear Gojyo put down the bowl.

            “Goku?” I manage to croak out.

            “Ah, he’s still asleep.” Gojyo waves off out of my line of sight. “Hey, listen. How do you do that? Wake up, I mean. You’re half dead.”

            An embarrassed smile stretches my dry lips. “I assure you, I’m only awake because my body demands food.”

            “Aw man!” Gojyo makes an aggravated sound. “Does this mean I have to do the cooking?”

            My smile shifts to gratitude and affection, and I croak out the short list of foods I usually prepare for myself after a heavy healing session. Gojyo moves off to try his hand at cooking again and I weakly look around, reflexively cataloguing everyone’s position and physical state. Hakuryuu curled up on my lap, unhurt. Gojyo by the fire, in front of me and just to the left, unhurt. Goku off to my right, sprawled in his normal, catatonic sleep. Sanzo further away on my left, carefully laid out on top of all the blankets we could spare but otherwise exactly the same as when I’d passed out: robe rent in dozens of places and bloodstained almost completely, limbs in the same straight pose I’d laid them out in when I started healing him. His arm had been close to completely torn off, and I’d needed to see the other arm in the same position to make sure I was putting things back where they should be. Sanzo isn’t moving, and for a long moment I am afraid he is dead, but then he takes a deep breath and I can see he is merely unconscious.

            Gojyo turns at my whimper of relief, follows my gaze. “He’s ok,” he says softly. “Um, how long do eggs take to cook?”

            The eggs are runny, but they give me the strength to crawl over to the fire and help Gojyo cook breakfast. The next few hours are filled with cooking and eating as Goku wakes up. There is an atmosphere of cautious intimacy studded with frequent worried glances at Sanzo’s still form. When I have the strength to stand without passing out, I start to walk over to check on him, but the other two catch my arms and bodily stop me.

            “Yer not recovered yet!” Gojyo growls. “I’m not going to let you kill yourself by exhausting your energy!”

            My wordless, indignant protest dies at the open worry Gojyo’s expressing, and Goku’s vehement agreement.

            “I won’t.” My voice is calm and steady, and for once I’m not smiling. I meet my friends’ eyes with dead seriousness. “I can’t let myself die.”

            Goku and Gojyo flinch as memories of our mind-meld session resurface, and they understand that if I let myself die, I may as well be killing Sanzo with my own two hands. They release me, but follow me over to Sanzo’s pallet. I kneel beside him and begin a purely physical examination, checking all of his wounds and vital signs. Goku dashes off and returns with a roll of bandages, and together the three of us bind Sanzo’s many wounds. I won’t be in any position to do any healing for a few days, but we can’t just sit in the wilderness for that long. Gojyo packs our things while I pack the cooking utensils, and Goku stows them all in the back of Hakuryuu’s jeep form. She chirps at me, worried, and I assure her I’ll be okay.

            When we drive off for the nearest town, it is Gojyo in the front seat next to me. Sanzo is lying in the back seat, head pillowed on Goku’s lap. He hasn’t stirred since he lost consciousness, but his energy is dormant – he’s actually asleep and not faking it. I allow myself to think longingly of a table groaning with food, a long bath, and a week of quiet recovery.

            Hang in there, Sanzo. Come back to us.

            *********************************************************

            The innkeeper is very surprised to see us return. After all, we’d checked out just that morning, and it’s shortly past noon. He’s more surprised to see Gojyo stride up grimly with a handful of money and reserve a pair of double rooms. Goku is right behind him, asking if a pair of sleeping pallets can be moved into one room, instead of needing two. I follow them more slowly, carrying Sanzo’s unconscious form carefully on my back. Despite the weight and my weakened state, I am prepared to defend him with everything I have, and it would be worth someone’s life to try to take him from me. The innkeeper glances at me briefly and looks away with the shudder a mouse gives when it meets the eyes of a falcon. Gojyo regains his attention by ordering what would normally be food for eight to ten people, and demanding the key to the room.

            When we get to the room, Goku prowls around to make sure all is in order while Gojyo helps me lay Sanzo on one of the two beds that are pressed against the walls. The pallets are dragged in and get arranged: one by the foot of one bed and one in between the beds, so that Goku and Gojyo will be between the door and the beds. Just in case. With Sanzo incapacitated, the rest of us are understandably on edge. Unfortunately for the two serving girls who knock on the door, that means that Gojyo opens it with his polearm held ready and Goku in a battle stance behind him. Luckily, they just freeze in fear. Gojyo pours on the charm and apologizes while Goku takes the food, and they leave much calmer.

            We dive into the assorted covered dishes and throw-away containers like men who haven't seen food for a week. This is normal for Gojyo and Goku, but I think they are surprised to see me eating with such gusto. I don't even know what it is that I am eating, or if it is any good – nor do I care. My chi is seriously depleted, and I'll eat anything set in front of me right now. Gojyo and Goku aren’t modest about eating their fill, but when all is said and done, there are more empty plates and containers around me than either of them. While I tidy up – eating any scrap of food that was left over in the process – there is some discussion about whether or not either of them want to go anywhere this evening, and the agreement that one of them will be in the room at all times. I don’t bother to listen; I’m not going anywhere. My responsibility is to eat and rest, let my chi regenerate, and finish healing Sanzo. Normally, I would insist that either Gojyo or Goku take the other bed – but not this time. Not with them watching me like a pair of hawks. I don’t even try to protest; I just take off my shoes and my eyepiece and stretch out on the other bed.

            The only sounds in the room are Gojyo and Goku playing a quiet game of cards. I can hold my body still, but my mind circles restlessly back over the events of the last few days. Relentlessly probing for a point at which I could have prevented this, I find myself morbidly replaying images and snatches of overheard conversation. The strange, spiky creature Sanzo had seen briefly as we drove into this tiny town on the edge of the desert – none of us had ever seen anything like it. Broad back, whippy tail, long neck and knobby head, and all of it covered in spines and pointy scales. Sanzo had inquired about it. A scavenger, he had been told. Solitary creatures, usually seen only at a distance. Once in a while the villagers would find the horribly mangled remains of something that had tangled with one, but until recently they’d never caused any trouble. A few days ago, however, a small child had been found. It had wandered just far enough, and there was barely enough left to identify that it had been human. The rest of the day had been quiet, for us: just the usual shopping, drinking, wenching, and eating. The next morning at breakfast, Sanzo left the table early and mentioned some errand he wanted to do before we got on the road. We ate and packed in leisure – and only when we were ready to leave did we realize that Sanzo hadn’t come back.

            Then we heard the gunshots.

            We were running before the echoes faded, Hakuryuu flying in anxious circles above and ahead of us. An image from her generated shouted directions from me before I could digest what she'd shown me: one of the lizard-things, to our right, running to intercept us. Goku peeled off to take it out. Gojyo and I kept running. After a minute, we could hear Goku's cry of victory. Hakuryuu’s relieved chirp told us that he was ok, and running to catch up. Then the second scavenger leapt at us from the left; Gojyo held it off with his crescent-bladed staff and yelled at me to keep running, to find Sanzo. So I did. Hakuryuu flew higher, finally locating the monk, and transmitted what she was seeing to me. I followed her somewhat fuzzy images, blindly navigating through her eyes, weaving around low bushes and spine-studded plants at the last second.

            Then, suddenly, Sanzo was in front of me. He looked like a whirlwind of knives had attacked him. “I took care of them,” he gasped in vengeful satisfaction, and then collapsed bonelessly onto the sand. I dropped beside him, one hand on his chest, the other checking his pulse.

            Irregular heartbeat, shallow breathing punctuated with unhappily wet noises. I close my eyes, 'seeing' through my hands as my chi flows into his lungs. There is blood there; find the punctures, heal them quickly. Green mist solidifies over grey patches in the two blue-green shapes, flows on to find the next problem. Like iron filings to a lodestone, it is drawn to Sanzo's left shoulder. I open my eyes, and clench my jaw at the sight of the ruin that should be a joint. Carefully, trembling fingers try to straighten the shredded muscle and set the bone back into its joint. I don't know how to fix this. Repress the panic. Quickly, pull his right arm straight down by his side, match position with the left. There, now you have a mirror image. You can figure out how to make it look like that, can't you? Get on with it, Hakkai. Sanzo’s counting on you. I take strength from chiding myself. I can do this. I have to do this. Eyes closed, I lay one hand on each shoulder. See, this goes there, and that connects to this. Now I just have to make it match. The green energy, now more like water than mist, flows down my left arm and out through my fingers. Muscle knits together beneath my hand, nerves reach out to each other and reconnect. Now I push just so, and the bone clicks back into its socket with a shock of pain. Mist once again, my chi runs in rivulets down towards Sanzo's legs. What now? I open my eyes and straighten his legs, but they appear to be okay. Except...except...

            My hands press down tightly, scrambling to get under the folds of cloth, frantically trying to slow the too-quick flow of blood from the severed artery. Flash of magenta from the right, followed by the sun-come-to-earth. Gojyo and Goku have returned. I don't care what they may think about where my hands are. The artery glows blood-red beneath my hands, and my chi stitches the ends together until the blood pumps down into the leg and not out onto the sand. Pumps...

            Sanzo's heartbeat is getting fainter, and there is a tinge of sickly yellow in the blood that flows through the newly-repaired blood vessel. No one told us these things were poisonous. I open my eyes, move slightly so that I can lay my hands on Sanzo's chest, and flick my frantic gaze over Gojyo and Goku. They look okay.

            “Did they hurt you at all?” I demand. Two confused headshakes indicate no. The fact that I'm even looking at them is strange enough to worry them; normally, they don't exist to me until Sanzo is healed. “Are you sure? I think they my have poison in their fangs or claws.” Two sets of eyes widen, but the still indicate that they are unhurt. Good enough; I dismiss their presence.

             Both hands splayed over Sanzo’s heart, I close my eyes and drop my awareness into his chest. My world is green and red and that sickly yellow. The venom of those spiky lizards is preventing Sanzo's body from doing the things it would normally do to try to save itself. My chi is a green tide, washing through his veins and destroying the sickly yellow wherever it can. But that tide falters, and suddenly I have no more chi in reserve...

            With a gasp, I wrench myself away from the memory-turned-nightmare replaying itself behind my eyes. At first, I can't see anything. I sit up, and in the faint light that leaks under the door, I can make out Goku sprawled on his pallet. The bed creaks as I turn to look at Sanzo, and Gojyo sits up.

            “Hey,” he calls softly, though Goku wouldn't wake up even if he shouted, and I can tell from Sanzo's stillness that he wouldn't wake easily, either. “You okay? Need somethin'?”

            “Ah, maybe a little something to eat.” My stomach growls, and I give up trying to pretend nothing's wrong. “A lot of something to eat, actually, and I don't care what it is.” My voice sounds rough and tired to my own ears. I wonder how it sounds to Gojyo.

            I can see Gojyo's eyebrows jump in surprise. “What's wrong? Are you okay? Never mind – food first, then you tell me everything, got it?”

            With that, he de-tangles himself from the blankets and casually steps around Goku's out-flung limbs, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him without waiting for a response from me. Normally, I would be afraid to look around a room this dark and still, lest I see a corpse that isn't there. But Goku shifts slightly, and a rasping snore grates across the silence. There will be no hallucinations while that snore continues. Gratefully, I take stock of my chi levels while I wait for Gojyo, and what I find does not comfort me. My reserves look good on the surface, but it's a false indicator of health. Like a deep pothole disguised by the puddle of dirty water that fills it, my life-force is severely depleted under those full reserves of chi. I don't know enough; I don't know if the damage will heal over time, or if I've become a unique sort of cripple. Gojyo returns as quietly as he left, a very large object tucked under one arm. He once again evades the obstacle of Goku's slumbering form and joins me on the bed, and then I can see what it is he's brought me: a whole wheel of cheese, covered in red wax.

            “You said cheese earlier,” he says quietly as my fingers scramble for the cord sticking out of the wax, “but we didn't have any in the supplies. Will this do?”

            My fingers find the cord and tug. The cord wrapped around the cheese cuts through the wax, which peels away in a thick, stiff strip. My mouth waters as the sharp scent fills my nose. “Yes, this will do,” I reply just as quietly. “Thank you.”

            “Just so you know,” he says as I break off a chunk and start eating, “There were five of them. Mated pair and three kits. Me an' Goku, we each took out one of the kits. Sanzo took out the other kit, and the parents. Whole damn village considers him a hero for avenging that poor kid they savaged.”

            He is quiet for a few minutes while I devour a third of what must be a five-pound wheel of cheese, and I can see his chi roll restlessly under a heavy, still layer. He's worried about me. I can't blame him; I'm worried about me.

            “I've never seen you eat like this,” he starts, his voice as serious as his chi. “Something's wrong, isn't it?” It's not a question.

            Right Speech; even if there were no point in trying to disguise what's happening with my chi, he would badger me until he felt I'd told him everything, Between bites of cheese, I tell him everything I know and suspect about my chi – specifically the unusual state it's in. It's slow going; Gojyo interrupts often, asking questions to clarify his understanding, and the answers sometimes wander off into explanations – such as why cheese was a better choice than the loaf of bread it was next to. The cheese is gone by the time I finish, and Gojyo sits quietly for a moment, digesting what I've told him. I feel peculiarly full, as though my body were a cloth sack and I were filled with sand. It's not an unpleasant feeling.

            “So...what should we do?” Gojyo's including himself in my predicament.

            I shrug. “Eat. Sleep. Pay attention to my chi. Hope that Sanzo wakes up soon.” I toy with the wax. “I don't know what else to do but listen to my body and give it what it needs.”

            Gojyo nods. “Then that's what we'll do. Now sleep – and let me or Goku know if you need something.” He slides off the foot of my bed and burrows under his blankets. “I'm gonna try to grab a few more hours of sleep while it's still dark.” He yawns. “Good night, Hakkai.”

            I lay down as well, but not under the blankets. I’m warm enough without them. “Good night, Gojyo. And thank you.”

            A snore is my only answer.

            *********************************************************

            It’s been three days since we came back to this town, three days since Sanzo almost died under my hands. I’ve been in this room almost the entire time, waiting and resting, trying to restore my depleted life-force. Goku and Gojyo are constantly in and out, never leaving me alone with Sanzo’s unconscious body for more than a few minutes. They’re afraid I’ll kill myself trying to finish healing him; they saw into the dark corners of my heart and know that I would probably do that…but I won’t. Sanzo needs me to live. And I… No. That thought is cut short with practiced ease; it is a well-worn path and I know where it leads. I exist solely to atone for my crimes, I remind myself sternly. I have no right to assert my selfish, petty desires.

            I’m sitting on Gojyo’s pallet with him, eating and listening to him chatter on about the cute girl he saw while getting food. He’s complaining jokingly about not being able to bring her back because the four of us are in the same room. Gojyo’s not really complaining, though. He’s exaggerating and acting the clown in his own way, trying to cheer me up. I look over at Sanzo and sigh. Gojyo falls silent.

            “Hakkai.” He puts his hand on my wrist, reminding me to finish eating. He bites his lip, looking between me and Sanzo, who hasn’t stirred at all. “How are you doing?”

            “I’ve started replenishing my life-force,” I say quietly. “My reserves are full and I’ve replaced some of what I used…” I stare moodily at the dumplings Gojyo brought me and mechanically resume eating. I’ve read books on chi, but none of them quite describe the way my chi seems to work. The chunk of my life-force that was used when I healed Sanzo three days ago is still like a chunk of flesh missing from my body. But rather than repair that, the chi my body is generating from the prodigious amount I've been eating goes straight into my reserves. That metaphoric pit is filling itself slowly, like ice forming under the weight of layers of snow. And if monitoring my chi hadn’t been the most convenient way to distract myself from brooding on Sanzo, I never would have noticed the tiny bit of progress my life-force had made. I’m going to be a long time getting my strength back from this, but it will be worth it if Sanzo recovers, too.

            Gojyo is watching me brood and eat. This isn’t a new train of thought for me, and he’s heard the explanation about my life-force. After the first night here, when he practically interrogated me on my condition and what I would require while we waited for Sanzo to recover, he’s watched me like a hawk. There is a sudden motion as he flicks his hair over his shoulder, and I look up. Gojyo seems to have come to a decision, clapping his hands together and leaping to his feet. “Stay here,” he tosses over his shoulder as he leaves the room, leaving the door ajar in his haste. “Hey! Goku!” I hear distantly. “…mumble mumble mumble Sanzo mumble mumble tomorrow mumble mumble mumble Hakkai…..”

            Goku and Gojyo come back in and sit down in a little circle with me.

            “Here’s the plan,” Gojyo announces. “If Sanzo doesn’t wake up by tomorrow morning, we’ll let you finish healing him. But!” He fixes me with a stern look. “You are NOT to drain yourself once your reserves are gone!”

            Goku nods, a determined look on his face. “Uh-huh! You can pull from us again if you need to.”

            My spirits rise a little at the thought of returning Sanzo to health and wakefulness, and while it’s not a smile, my expression becomes less gloomy. The other two smile at me in encouragement, and I feel guilty for how much I must have been worrying them. I haven’t smiled at all since we found Sanzo like that. Between my seriousness and the glimpse they got of my dark secrets…it’s no wonder that even Goku has been subdued the last three days. Gojyo and Goku put up with so much: irritation and surliness from Sanzo, chiding and mothering from me. And now, when they don’t have to deal with any of that, they have stepped into my role as caretaker. Gratitude wells up in my heart for all they’ve done in the past few days, banishing the guilt momentarily before it flows sluggishly back at the reminder that they’ve had to do anything at all. I decided long ago that I would do my best to be helpful rather than an imposition, and I’m not living up to that. With an effort, I gather the shards of my masks and force my face into a parody of a smile.

            “Well then,” I say in a voice that sounds fake to my ears. “I should eat a bit more and rest up.”

            “Yeah, yeah!” Goku’s enthusiasm for food rekindles. “Miss!” He dashes out of the room. “Can we get a double order of…”

            Gojyo turns serious eyes on me. “Are you really okay?”

            My fake smile vanishes. “No. I’m not. I’m worried sick about Sanzo. He doesn’t eat enough to begin with, and now it’s been three days…his energy is static. He’s not healing naturally, but his health’s not deteriorating yet, either. If he doesn’t wake up soon…” I bite my lip and focus on Sanzo’s slow breathing. I can’t lose him, he can’t die. It would kill me.

            “Hey,” Gojyo’s voice pulls me back from the brink of despair. “If you heal him, he’ll wake up, right? Like you did.”

            I nod. “His body will demand food.”

            “Then either way, he’ll wake up tomorrow.” Gojyo pats me on the shoulder and points to the forgotten dumplings. “Now finish those.”

            *********************************************************

            Night falls. Under the covers, I am still and silent. My right eye is closed, scarred lid pressed into the pillowcase; my left ear throbs faintly in the chill draft as my inhibitors grow colder and colder, until they feel like they're sucking the heat out of my ear. With one eye I watch Sanzo, unmoving in the darkness. I don't sleep. It rains, and the sound ties my stomach in knots. Time distorts as I lie there, past horrors and future fears colliding with the sound of the rain against the window behind me. I must have passed out at some point, because I am suddenly aware of the sound of Goku and Gojyo arguing about food just out of my line of sight, and the room is much lighter.

            “But why not?” Goku whines, backing into my field of vision.

            “Because he’ll need to eat when he wakes up, you stupid monkey!”

            Goku moans and grumbles, then notices me looking at him. “Hey, Hakkai, you’re awake!”

            I lever myself into a sitting position and find a plate of honey-glazed barley cakes under my nose.

            “Gojyo says you need to eat these. But they look so good!”

            Faced with Goku’s honest enthusiasm and the knowledge that Sanzo will soon be completely healed, I find a genuine smile spreading across my face. I take the plate and give Goku one of the cakes, eating the rest of them quickly in anticipation. By the time I’m finished eating, Gojyo has uncovered Sanzo and taken off most of the bandages. He gives me an encouraging grin as I come over, and I take stock of what I’ll be working with. The cuts and wounds are clean, but open and slightly dry. That’s going to make them scar. I spread my hands and hold them half a hand’s breadth above Sanzo’s skin and start closing the wounds on his legs and feet, working my way up his body. The physical world grays out, and all I see is the green of my chi and the red-and-grey of Sanzo’s energy system.

            My chi reserves have never been this full before, but the number of wounds and the state they’re in are making this hard. By the time I get up to Sanzo’s chest, I’m bathed in sweat and my hands are trembling with the strain of intense, prolonged concentration. There is pressure on my shoulder, and then I can feel Gojyo’s chi. I look at him in surprise, and he gives me a challenging look.

            “Pull from me,” he says quietly. “You look like shit.”

            Through our mingled chi, I express surprise and confusion that he would want to do this, after seeing the darkness in my heart. Gojyo replies in the same way that he doesn’t care. No one’s perfect, he communicates to me. What wrongs you’ve committed don’t matter as much as what you do to make them right. Grateful, I pull from Gojyo’s chi reserves, and am able to heal the last wounds without draining him too much. The concentration and energy loss are doing a number on me, but before I stumble back to the other bed, I stir Sanzo’s chi to make his bodily needs wake him.

            The next hour passes in silence. Sanzo slowly shifts from coma to deep sleep, and from deep sleep to light sleep. Goku and Gojyo sit on borrowed chairs and watch him, and I do the same from where I have collapsed onto the other bed. My reserves are gone again, reminding me sharply that my life-force is still depleted. My entire body feels dry, shriveled, and almost sandy. I should be eating – with a chunk of my life-force missing, my chi will regenerate only slowly – but we have no food in the room. Even if we did, I wouldn’t be able to eat. My entire body is trembling from the stress I’ve put on it twice in four days. Time slows to a crawl, and each minute becomes an eternity of agonizing suspense. Will my desperate healing be enough to bring Sanzo back? Will the damage his body took prove to be too much for him to recover from? I know I didn't neutralize all of the poison; perhaps it has done him some irreparable harm. Perhaps, as he lay dying, his brain was suffocated and he will never wake. Perhaps—

            Sanzo’s chi shifts from deep red to blue. His breathing does not change, and there is no visible sign, but—

            “He’s awake.”

            Goku and Gojyo turn at my statement, more a sigh than words. Sanzo’s chi flashes red and white.

            “How can you tell?” Goku looks back and forth between me and Sanzo, but there is no motion to lend truth to my statement.

            “I can always tell when he’s awake and faking it, or when he’s actually asleep.” Anticipation, fear, and exhaustion have stretched my nerves to the breaking point, and I don’t have the mental energy or patience to humor Sanzo’s pride.

            “And you never told us?” Gojyo’s torn between indignation and amusement.

            “I always let Sanzo…hide for a bit and gave him time to come to terms with things without forcing him…” Black streaks shoot through Sanzo’s chi. “I’m sorry, Sanzo! I just-” My voice breaks and I have to take a sobbing breath to steady myself. “I just need to know that you’re going to be okay…” I close my eyes then, because I know I’m about to break down. But as I do, I can see white streaks flaring through Sanzo’s chi, erasing the black.

            There is a shuffle; feet moving and muffled voices. I’m focused on regaining composure and don’t know what was said, but after a moment someone sits on the edge of the bed and then Sanzo’s hand rests on my shoulder. His chi flashes blue and white, and for a few minutes the only sound is my broken breathing.

            “I’m sorry, Sanzo,” I finally gasp out. “I’m sorry…”

            Still blue with white, but the blue softens to teal. Sanzo murmurs quietly that it’s all right, comforting babble that I focus on and cling to, dragging myself out of the dark spiral my thoughts had fallen into. I narrow my world to the sound of his voice and his hand on my shoulder, and force my thoughts into a straight line again.

            “It’s been three…four days since we found you. You were so close to dying! I was – I thought –” Deep breath, eyes still shut. Focus. “I had to draw from Goku and Gojyo to save you. I couldn’t do it by myself, and even then…” Another breath. “I came so close to failing...” I almost choke on the words.

            Sanzo’s hand tightens its grip on my shoulder, and his chi turns a heavy purple like his eyes. “Hakkai…” There is a pause, a flash of blue that leaves his chi a slightly more grey-purple when it passes. “I’m sorry. I didn't want to bother the rest of you with killing scavengers. I didn't stop to look enough to realize what was going on.”

            “I don’t care about that,” I reply immediately. A streak of sickly yellow followed by dirty white runs through Sanzo’s chi; worry and guilt. Normally, an admission like this would touch me deeply, and having wrestled an apology out of Sanzo, I’d let the issue drop.

            "I did something stubborn and stupid and hurt the rest of you." The words are like glass shards in Sanzo’s mouth, and his voice is full of pain. The purple of his chi darkens like a brooding storm at sunset.

            “I can forgive that.” I dismiss this deeper apology and admission of fault as though it were of no importance. I feel as though my soul has been stripped bare and trivial things like foolish mistakes and admitting fault are meaningless compared to the single need that beats within me stronger than my own heart.

            The resemblance between Sanzo’s chi and a stormy sunset grows stronger: against the hazy violet background there is a core of pulsing red pain/anger partially hidden by the dark clouds of despair and self-loathing, and streaks of worry/fear/guilt flash through the whole mess like lightning. I can feel my coherency slipping slightly.

            “You told me once that as long as you were still alive, I had to live, too.” My quiet words bring Sanzo’s attention back, and the black clouds stir slightly as though whipped by winds of the soul. “You made me promise,” I whisper almost distractedly.

“I never meant for you to worry about me.” Sanzo’s voice is tight, trying to control itself. It is the third apology within the space of a few minutes, filled with helplessness and pleading. His chi brightens as the self-loathing is replaced partially by vibrant, warm colors, and in that instant I understand that even before he gave me my name, Sanzo had grown to care about me as much as he had cared for his predecessor. He’s been trying to deny it to himself, afraid of what would happen if my fate ever mirrored his mentor’s.

“Then you should never have worried about me,” I reply. My voice is firm and slightly accusing, point the metaphoric finger directly at what he’s been trying to avoid for over three years.

There is a babbled apology; he’s not thinking about what he’s saying, he’s just stringing word together while his thoughts swirl together like the colors of his chi. Guilt chases hope which swirls together with fear and martyred responsibility while other colors and emotions whirl by too quickly to be identified. The kaleidoscope effect destroys the anchor I was using to keep my own thoughts straight, and I can feel my control slipping.

“Sanzo.” I use his name to pull both of our trains of thought back together. “Promise me.”

“….Promise what?”

I’m still slipping. The world around me is blank; I can’t see Sanzo’s chi anymore, can’t tell if he knows what I’m asking and is pretending he doesn’t, or whether I’ve lost him and he has no idea what I’m talking about. My hand locks onto Sanzo’s wrist in a burst of movement, and our chi mingles through the skin-to-skin contact. He can see into my heart now, as I’ve been looking into his.

“Promise me!” Consciousness is dribbling away, and desperation colors my voice. “I need to know that you’re going to live…” The words are somewhere between a hiss and a sob. I didn’t think there was anything left in me that could break, but something did. Or maybe something in Sanzo? The boundaries between us are blurring more, and it’s all I can do to not slip into unconsciousness. There is a long pause, or perhaps it just seems long because I’m trying to refocus on the physical world.

“I promise.” The words are barely audible, but they send an unmistakable vibration through our shared chi, like a silent earthquake.

“Thank you,” I sigh, as that ripple sends me into the smooth blackness that’s swallowed up the rest of the world. I’m barely aware of my hand and arm going limp as I give in to exhaustion, but relief joins it and cushions me as I sink into their combined embrace.

*********************************************************

*********************************************************

            The silence in the room is broken by footsteps pounding down the hall. The door bursts open, spilling Goku, Gojyo, and a double-armload of food into the room.

            “Sanzo!” Goku drops his load on the table and launches himself at the monk sitting in the chair.

Surprisingly, the monk’s only reaction is to growl, “Shut up, you’re too noisy.” His eyes don’t leave the thin, still form on the bed.

“Sanzo, you’re okay!” Goku cries gleefully, oblivious.

“Shut up. You’ll wake Hakkai,” Sanzo repeats distractedly.

Gojyo looks up sharply. “You let him go to sleep?” His voice is incredulous and accusing.

Sanzo’s eyes narrow. “He’s exhausted, he needs to rest.” The monk’s tone is defensive.

Gojyo dismisses the threat implied by Sanzo’s glare. “He’s drained,” he corrects, “He needs to eat.” The redhead hands Sanzo a package of something hot. “And so do you. Hakkai made a point of mentioning that you don’t eat enough. Goku!” The monkey de-tangles himself from the monk. “Help me get Hakkai sitting up.”

Goku and Gojyo wrestle Hakkai’s limp form from a fetal position into a more upright posture. Goku props the unconscious man against the wall and begins calling his name in attempts to wake him. He considers slapping Hakkai gently, but the exhausting healing Hakkai’s done in the last few days has left him looking twenty years older, and Goku does not want to risk hurting the very frail-looking body of his friend. Gojyo has been rummaging through the food on the table, and now is filling a bowl with something hot and semisolid. He spares a moment to glare at Sanzo, who has been watching Goku moodily and ignoring the food in his hands.

“Eat,” Gojyo says firmly as he passes the bowl to Goku. “Here. Start spooning that into him and see if he’ll swallow.”

Goku nods and forces Hakkai’s mouth open, then awkwardly deposits a spoonful of some sort of porridge into it. Reflexively, Hakkai’s mouth closes, he swallows, and then his mouth opens again, as though his body knows how desperately it needs fuel. Goku slowly gets into a rhythm of spooning food into Hakkai’s mouth as soon as it opens. Sanzo eats mechanically, watching intently as Goku steadily empties the bowl and exchanges it for a full one from Gojyo. That one, too, is steadily emptied, and joins the first on the table as the third bowl is handed over.

“Hey, Gojyo, he’s still unconscious. How much should I feed him?” Goku’s words hold a touch of worry.

“Just keep spooning it into him. He can still eat, even if he’s unconscious, so we’re going to feed him until either he wakes up, or he can’t hold any more.” The calm assurance in his voice seems to erase Goku’s doubt.

Halfway through the third bowl, Hakkai stirs slightly and his eyes open halfway, but he only stares blankly ahead and obviously isn’t seeing what’s in front of him.  He seems to become more alert as the bowl empties, eyes slowly focusing on Goku and roving slightly, taking in the sight of Gojyo and the table of food. His eyes focus again on Goku and he looks like he’s trying to form a word, but every time he opens his mouth, Goku fills it with porridge. When Goku turns to exchange the empty bowl for a fourth full one, Hakkai’s hand shoots out and latches onto Goku’s wrist. Goku looks at him in surprise, and watches Hakkai’s mouth work for a few seconds before any sound comes out.

“S..an..zo?” The name is barely a croak, and slightly unfocused green eyes pin Goku in their panicky stare. Hakkai is breathing rapidly, hand clamped firmly and almost painfully around Goku’s wrist. There is a long moment of silence.

“I’m right here,” Sanzo says in an uncharacteristically soft and gentle voice.

Hakkai’s head whips around and he stares blankly at Sanzo before seeming to actually see him. “Oh! Thank goodness!” Hakkai cries in profound relief, letting go of Goku’s wrist.

Sanzo looks extremely guilty for an instant, and then the look is replaced with concern as Hakkai’s eyes roll back and he slumps against Goku, once more unconscious.

*********************************************************

*********************************************************

The first light of dawn in my eyes wakes me up, burning away the mental fog of hunger and exhaustion that has obscured the last – how long? How long has it been since we left that grateful village? Trying to remember is like sifting through fragments of dreams, piecing facts together around nebulous impressions. I know I'd insisted that we continue our journey to the West once I was strong enough to walk again. After all, I learned long ago how to sleep behind the wheel, and our directions mainly consist of things like 'follow the road for twenty miles, take the left fork, drive for another sixty miles'. Hakuryuu can do that by herself; there was no reason to delay ourselves just because I needed more rest. That took care of the exhaustion while on the road, but I still needed a frightening amount of food. No one complained when we stopped in a town every night for dinner, warm beds, and breakfast, and then stopped in another town for lunch. I'm usually quiet during meals anyway; I'm sure no one was concerned that I sat very still and didn't say anything once I'd finished eating. Granted, I was eating a lot more than normal, but no one said anything about it. Maybe they didn't notice how much I was devouring, or that I was dozing off afterwards.

There is a large pitcher of water, a small tub with a sponge, and a coarse towel on a table by the bed. I mindfully fill the tub and begin washing, acknowledging the feel of the rough sponge and the cold water on my skin – skin that feels smooth and strong again rather than thin and old. About a month. I think it's been about a month since I drained myself to the point of injury. The days since then are mostly a haze of exhaustion and hunger, with moments of consciousness standing out sharply. A grimace worms its way across my face. Somehow, having low chi levels seems to disconnect me from my short-term memory, and sometimes anything further in the past than 'right now' ceases to exist for me – especially when my reserves are drained down to nothing. I truly live in the moment then, becoming a creature of survival. It's not until my reserves are full again that my memory of that time is put in its proper place between the events that came before and the ones that follow. I seem to have reached that point now; that 'pit' in my life-force has been completely filled and my chi has finally stabilized, allowing me to think rationally again. I wade through the hazy memories of the last month, trying to settle them. It feels as though it were it was all a dream, or that someone else that had inhabited my starving body. I know I'd been sleeping so heavily that not even the nightmares or Kanan's specter disturbed me. Only when Hakuryuu stopped did I wake up, or if someone mentioned leaving the table, or when Sanzo knocked on my door in the mornings.

When Sanzo knocked on my door? My mouth twists into a frown, and I pat myself dry with the coarse towel while examining that thought. Yes, there was a stream of nights spent in single rooms such as this one, and each night ended with an imperative knock on my door just before breakfast – a knock that did not go away until I dragged myself from the tangle of sheets and blankets and forced my reluctant body to unlock the door. I remember stiff fingers fumbling with the lock, sandy eyes blinking and blinking again, struggling to focus on the scowling face of Genjo Sanzo. If he or I ever said anything, I don't remember it.  Now that the memory of that intent violet gaze hangs before me, however, I can remember being watched surreptitiously during meals and while driving. Sanzo has been watching me almost constantly since the morning I'd finished healing him, but why?

~I promise.~

The towel falls from my nerveless fingers, and I hastily pick it up. Sanzo promised. More than that – I made him promise. Nervously, I smooth my hair down and make futile attempts to brush it away from my left ear before reaching for the strip of green cloth I use to hold it out of the way. The warm, vibrant colors I'd seen so briefly in his chi...the only other person he'd cared for in that way, trusted that deeply... I dress myself slowly, deliberately, letting the routine motions be a channel for my chaotic thoughts and feelings to flow through and sort themselves out. No wonder he watched me so carefully. Then, on the heels of that thought: I'm not worthy.

Worthy or not, what's done is done. I will hold Sanzo's promise as sacred as I hold my own, and redouble my efforts to live in such a way that he does not fear being released from his oath by the event of my death. Still feeling shaky from the last month, I make my way to the door and pause. Behind the wooden panel, a buzzing cloud of electric-blue sparks grows nearer until Sanzo reaches my door and stops. His chi underneath the sparks was a hard turquoise streaked with searing orange, but as he detects my presence on the other side of the wood it softens to a lighter shade: baby blue, tinged with peach and rose. There is a pause, then he knocks quietly.

“I'm awake.” My words are soft but firm, and leaf-green blooms briefly among the other colors, transforming his chi into something like flowers under the morning sky. “Thank you,” I add, and anyone listening would think it was just the wake-up call I was thanking Sanzo for.

The other colors are pushed to the side as warm, velvety lavender wells up and is gone, and then Sanzo is walking quickly back down the hall, and out of my chi-sensing range. I know that when I see him at breakfast, his chi will back to its usual lapis, and he will act as though nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened. I shouldn’t have imposed on Sanzo like that, but I don’t regret it. If he needs me to live, and I need him to live in order to live, does that make my actions Right Action? Or would it be sophistry? Somehow, remembering the warm shades of his chi, I think it is the former. I open the door, smile firmly in place, and go to meet the others for breakfast. Unworthy as I am, I still have responsibilities to the dead faces that stare back at me from the silent darkness, and I’ll do whatever they demand of me.

               ~ Just hold on tight, because if you close your eyes, look inside yourself, you'll feel a heartbeat. Yes, I want you to believe in the future. You can take another look from the other side…~

               The memory of Kanan’s voice is bittersweet, but my bland smile doesn’t waver. Sanzo promised, and I hold tight to that memory. Right now, that’s the only 'future' I have – the only future I can believe in.

               The usual sounds of breakfast come from the inn’s dining room as I turn the corner. Gojyo and Goku are in a heated argument over some bit of food; Sanzo is trying very hard to will them away as he drinks his coffee. He’ll yell at them in a minute. I let their chi wash over me – deep blue shot through with the Maten’s sparks; smooth, rich magenta; gold so bright and warm that nothing could ever put out that light.

               ~Until you find all that is love...~

               This is all the 'future' I have, but right now, this is the only future I need.