It had taken an hour to walk home but it was cool enough that it hadn’t been much of a strain. He’d walked up to the door of his house and took a few extra seconds to fumble for the keys. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt like he’d been holding his breath for just long enough that he was lightheaded.

Like his actions from the night before, he knew that this was his body. It just didn’t quite feel like his actions. He stood in front of the door, at his distorted reflection in the brass handle. He should have looked in a mirror, should have freshened up, before heading all the way over here.

It was too late; it had taken him nerve to even just walk up his own walkway. Not because his house intimidated him. Not because of anything that should have intimidated him.

Just because he knew Evan was inside.

It took three tries to slide the key into the lock and the first time he tried to twist he was met with such resistance that he wondered if Cambria had changed the locks while he was gone. He withdrew the key and tried again only to realize that he was trying to unlock the house with his car key.

He fumbled for a moment, thinking it was so unlike himself to be so out of it. This time, the key slid into the door effortlessly; he unlocked the door and pushed himself in.

A part of him expected the house to smell like warm, fresh food, like it used to. He expected bustling in the kitchen, music playing loudly as Evan shuffled around to prepare the perfect meal.

It was quiet in the house, sans the television playing softly in the living room. Immediately, Zack’s eyes drifted to the lump on the couch. His breath caught in his chest but he quickly released when he realized the spot on the couch was empty. He closed the door quietly and locked it behind him, toeing off his shoes before moving to the couch. He placed his hand in the middle of the nest, pleased to find it warm.

Craning his neck, he tried to peer into the kitchen to see if Evan was hiding in there. He stepped into the room and found nothing; confused now, where Evan might be, he stepped back into the living room and looked towards his room—and there he was.

Evan, scrawny as ever, draped in one of Zack’s sweatshirts. The old thing was too big for him and hung off of Evan’s smaller form.

His hair was different, Zack noticed. He was used to Evan’s shorter hair, black with red tipped bangs. He was missing the red; Zack couldn’t recall a time when Evan’s hair was just black. His hair was tucked behind his ear; Zack traced his appearance

He looked the same, though—everything else was just what he remembered.

“Ev,” he greeted breathlessly; Evan was pale and ghostly, in such a way that he almost wasn’t even sure if he was actually seeing him or just imagining him.

Evan stared blankly, wide-eyed and uncertain, and like he was maybe trying to figure out if Zack was real.

Neither moved for a moment, and then Evan shuffled forward quickly. He ran into Zack, his face hitting Zack’s chest with enough force that Zack wasn’t sure it hadn’t been a head butt.

Evan wasn’t attacking him; he was clinging to him.

Awkwardly, he wrapped his arms around Evan—and then suddenly, it just felt right. It didn’t matter if he had any appearance to keep up, or if he was reminded of all the bad things he’d done to Evan even before he’d youmafied him. He didn’t deserve the comfort he felt, having Evan’s warmth pressed against him, but he took it anyway. He held him tightly, protectively. Possessively, almost.

They didn’t speak, not at first. Zack’s heart was pounding in his chest but Evan didn’t seem to care. Evan was trembling against him, clinging to the front of Zack’s shirt in such a way that Zack was just waiting for the seams to come loose. Evan couldn’t talk. Zack didn’t know what to say.

After a moment, he just sighed and rested his chin atop the top of Evan’s head. He kissed the top of it a moment later and then finally said, “Let’s go sit down.”

Evan shook his head and held tightly.

Ordinarily, Zack would have argued. For now, he didn’t. They stayed like that for five minutes; Zack kept one arm wrapped around Evan tightly while the other moved to stroke down his back. His eyes were glued to the wall across from them. He could make out his reflection in a pane of glass. As much as he liked seeing Evan, even if it was just his back, he couldn’t watch for long; he couldn’t meet his own gaze.

Eventually, Evan seemed to lose the energy to stay standing. His grip loosened just slightly and Zack took the opportunity to give him a little nudge towards the couch.

Evan moved, allowing Zack to guide him, but each step was hesitant and uncertain, as if he didn’t know what to expect.

It made sense, given that he’d spent the last year, nearly, a third of his size and in a different form. Zack put a little extra effort into making sure Evan got onto the couch, and when he’d gotten him to sit down he flopped down next to him and drew the blanket around them.

“You okay?” he asked, a strange softness in his voice.

Evan noticed it, of course; Evan noticed everything when it came to trying to read him. Zack expected a lie but wound up surprised when Evan answered, “No. Better, but no. But you’re here. So I’m better.”

“Yeah,” Zack said slowly, watching as Evan pushed himself near to Zack, desperate for any closeness he could get. “Your hair grew.”

“I’m going to cut it,” Evan insisted. “I just haven’t yet.”

Zack nodded; Evan couldn’t see it but neither had the right words. Zack had known what had happened; there was only so much he could say without giving himself away—and he knew Evan couldn’t tell him. “Yeah,” he said. “You’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Evan replied.

The conversation might have been lacking, but neither would have asked for anything more. It was enough just to be in the same room, close to each other. Zack wasn’t sure how much of Evan was here—or how much he remembered of being a youma. He didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t know if he could handle the answer, anyway. Not with everything else on his mind.

“Have you lost weight?”

“No. Maybe, I don’t know. I’ve been eating a lot.”

Evan almost sounded ashamed but Zack countered with a quick, “Good, good. I have to go out later—Malcolm’s in the hospital, Cambria told you?”

Evan nodded; he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, reluctant to admit that he didn’t want Zack to go. Afraid of being too needy or pathetic, or chasing him away, he kept his mouth shut. Met with silence, Zack continued, “Is there anything you want me to pick up?”

Ordinarily, Evan would have chastised him and scolded him for even suggesting eating someone else’s food. Nothing about this was ordinary, though. Instead, Evan just seemed thoughtful and nodded. “Fast food.”

“Fast food?” Zack challenged, convinced he’d misheard.

Evan nodded; he didn’t seem like he was entirely convinced he’d given the right answer but he nodded with more conviction only a moment later. “Yeah. A burger, and fries, and a milkshake. Please.”

Zack snorted; it wasn’t intentional. It was completely indignant and for a split second he was almost amused. “What happened to my food snob?”

Evan’s eyes darted up to him, searching.

At first, Zack thought maybe he’d made a mistake by asking what had happened; his stomach dropped and his thoughts jolted as he tried to think about how to fix what he’d said. And then Evan smiled. Faintly, but it was there on his pale face, distracting Zack from Evan’s red, watery eyes.

‘My’, was the word that had caught Evan’s attention.

‘My’ food snob, because he needed to feel needed, and he needed to know that he was wanted here and that Zack really had missed him. He didn’t have to spell it out for Zack; he just knew.

“Cambria said you looked for me,” Evan said suddenly, distracted Zack from his introspection. He nodded and Evan continued, “That you looked for almost a whole year.”

“I did. Every free moment I had.”

Evan smiled again, but he apologized. Zack tilted his head at him, a silent inquiry, and Evan explained, “I’m sorry that you had to. I’m sorry I got in trouble. I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Zack said firmly. Evan was fumbling with words now, pathetic and desperate to find some way to make Zack understand apologetic he was. Like it was his fault.

Like it was his fault that Cavansite had targeted him. Like it was his fault that Sanidine’s idea to fix things had been to bring Evan into the Negaverse. Really—what the hell had he been thinking?

Zack barely suppressed a groan. He didn’t want to draw attention to his guilt but it wasn’t easy for him to criticize himself. He’d always been right. He’d never made a mistake; he always found someone else to blame it on. For a long time, he’d blamed Cavansite for Evan’s youmafication—and to a degree, he still did. He never would have tried to bring Evan into the Negaverse if she hadn’t harassed him. Evan wasn’t a fighter, though. What would the Negaverse have done to him? He wouldn’t have been able to meet quota. He wouldn’t have been able to drain energy, or fight. Or even power up, probably, given how Evan had such little love for being out in the dark.

It was a stupid plan. He should have reported Cavansite or something.

It was his fault.

He’d known it for a long time, even if he was telling himself something else.

Malcolm was harder to justify, but he’d blamed Metallia at first. He blamed the Chaos—blamed the fact that he was a Senshi. Blamed the Senshi, himself, for just being there.

He’d lost control and it had felt good—and now he could see the fallout and it left him feeling twisted and sick all over again.

That had been his fault.

He had to accept responsibility—if only because he couldn’t hide from it anymore.

Evan was the opposite. Evan tried to found ways to blame himself. It was his fault Cavansite had harassed him; he’d made himself a target and hadn’t been strong enough to chase her away. He couldn’t exactly remember the finer details of the process, but he remembered her. He remembered that there had been a man there—Sanidine, the one that had picked on him before. He remembered Sanidine shoving his hand in his chest, and he remembered the world fading away, like paint sliding down a wall. The colors all blended together until they were just black.

If he’d been stronger, or had a better job, or tried harder, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

Evan blamed himself because it was easier to accept that he was weak and flawed, and the people around him were strong and perfect. And, if he tried hard enough, maybe they’d like him—and their strength would be enough to cancel out his weakness. Admitting that the people around him—the people close to him—had weaknesses meant that even if they’d tried their hardest, they couldn’t keep him safe.

And if he couldn’t keep himself safe, and they couldn’t keep him safe, then he’d never stop worrying.

Zack just pulled him close. “It’s not your fault,” he said slower, hoping that would sink in. He wasn’t ready to say that it was his fault, but he hoped Evan would just trust him. “No one blames you. We’re just happy to have you back. And I want to stay and catch up. I don’t want to leave you here alone—and I wouldn’t, if it wasn’t something like Malcolm in the hospital.”

Evan nodded quietly.

“You can come, if you want.”

Evan shook his head. “No. I’ll stay here. Thank you.”

There was a firmness, a desperation, and Zack decided he wasn’t going to press it. He kissed the top of Evan’s head again. “I won’t be gone for long. I’m coming back after I make sure Cambria eats something. I won’t leave you alone tonight.”

Evan relaxed after a few seconds and nodded. He could handle a few hours alone. “But you’re not leaving now, are you?”

“No. No, I just want to stay here, with you for a while. Until it sinks in that you’re really here.”

The same little smile appeared on Evan’s face; it was only half a smile, like he couldn’t bring himself to form a full one yet, but it was a start.

Zack was glad for just that. So glad that he didn’t protest when Evan shifted positions and moved from his side to crawl into his lap.

Ordinarily, Zack would have chastised him, and on a bad day maybe even just pushed him off the couch altogether, but he gave Evan leniency today. Evan sat in his lap and pressed his back to Zack’s chest before reaching to take each of Zack’s arms and wrap them around himself.

They didn’t have to talk; neither of them was really ready. It was just good to be in the same room. Zack pulled Evan closer and moved the blanket so it better draped around both of them, and Evan sank into his arms and seemed to melt against him.

This wasn’t bad.

Zack just wondered how long it would last.

Malcolm’s face flashed in his mind, bloody and beaten. He heard the Senshi’s voice, begging for him to stop, as loudly as if it were being shouted in his ear right now.

He drew in a shaky breath and tried to clear his mind. The only thing that mattered in this moment was that Evan was okay. Or, at least, he was going to be okay.

He would deal with Malcolm, tonight.

And Cambria.