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It was strange when Ignacio arrived back home after midnight and Richard was not already sprawled in bed asleep.

He missed when they used to be awake together more often. It felt like their schedules pulled them further apart, or perhaps it was mostly just Ignacio's schedule. There was a small part of him that had hoped that perhaps Richard had been particularly anxious that night, and decided to go on a run at 12:30am, causing him to still not be home when Ignacio got back. Perhaps when he got back, they could at least snuggle for a bit. He was hoping they could. He was still nervous Richard was mad at him, and although Richard had apologized for his behaviour a few mornings ago, and murmured that they were okay, and perhaps murmured a few other things, Ignacio was still worried this wasn't really over. He was still worried that things weren't really alright, that nothing had been really believed, that eventually Richard was just going to come back and tell him to leave.

He worried over his lip for a moment, but waited patiently on their bed, looking at the bedroom door. Richard would be back soon, and they could curl up together, and everything would be fine. Maybe they could watch a bad movie until they both fell asleep.

Right?

As the time ticked on, he thought that perhaps they could just curl up and fall asleep. Richard had a lot of early classes. Perhaps the movie idea should be discarded.

Ignacio eventually got up off the bed and started pacing a bit. His footfalls were back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, and it was only absently that he worried that he was beginning to place some grooves in the rug underneath his feet. He glanced at the door. The house was still silent. Luke and Safira had long fallen to sleep by now, and he was fairly certain he was the only one awake. Would remain the only one awake. He wanted there to be another person awake besides for him. Even another animal would be nice. Luz seemed mostly concerned with sleeping at the moment. Sleeping in Constantine's room, from what he had gathered from extended pacing.

It was at 2am that Ignacio finally gave up on his extended fidgeting and picked up his phone for the first time.



He waited one minute, two minute, four minutes, ten-- no response came, and Ignacio eventually sat back down on the bed, staring at his phone.

Where was he?

Ignacio couldn't let himself think of the worst, couldn't let himself think of the inevitable in this forsaken city, and instead laid back, looking up at the ceiling, imagining other things that might have taken Richard's attentions away. Perhaps Arra was just really into a book or something. Maybe he just went to the studio for some reason and was really into practicing a routine. Didn't he have a competition coming up fairly soon? Probably wanted to make sure he was hitting all the right marks for that. More trophies for the cabinet only increased the prestige of the dance school, after all.

He rolled away from the ceiling and laid face-first in a pile of blankets and pillows.

He was fine, right?

There was no way he wasn't fine. Arra could handle himself. He was fast. He was strong. Brave. Braver than Ignacio in some ways.

No bravery could factor for the feeling of someone's hand going through one's back and reaching into a core they didn't know they--

Ignacio was back up, walking circles.

He went back to Constantine's room, pet Luz for a bit. She was deep in her sleep, and didn't move much, though she did shift and place her head on Ignacio's leg. It was nice. Comforting. It forced Ignacio to center himself and take a few deep breaths instead of letting his heart continue to slam wildly. He closed his eyes. He breathed. He centered himself. Perhaps he dozed off for a few minutes, here and there. He was too tired to really tell, too worried to have a chance to relax.

But it was 3:30am, and there was still no real sign of Richard.



He tossed the phone aside when there was no answer after another ten minutes.

It was hard to stop himself from fearing the worst. Just days ago, he had told Arra he was trying to save his life. And hell, Ignacio had been trying to do that much for years. Had he failed? Had he gone on just one run too many, stumbled upon the wrong officer with a quota to fill or a lack of concern about any of the people of Earth? Perhaps his starseed had been a convenient tasty morsel for a monster who thought its energy reserves were too low, or an agent who had gotten themselves injured somehow. Perhaps it was just collected, tossed into the Negaverse's reserves with no concern as to who might have been behind it. Perhaps it was pocketed in the way the piped monster pocketed a starseed, in the way that Stillwaterite had pocketed several starseeds, to be used as a convenient energy boost later when it was the so-called most necessary.

The imagery that came to Ignacio's head was enough to nearly make him vomit.

He swore he could hear the shattering in his own ears.

It was a while before the images let him go, and when they did, he nearly scared Luz with how quickly he jumped up and headed down the stairs. Normally he wouldn't make the move to wake Safira and Luke. It seemed strange, it seemed paranoid. Let them sleep. It was probably fine, and Ignacio was freaking out over nothing.

He couldn't believe that. Not in this city.

Safira and Luke had at first seemed rather groggy, and perhaps it made sense considering the time (after four, he noted) but they were alarmed when Ignacio told them, with a voice that seemed strained at best, that, "He's still not home, I don't know where he is, he isn't responding to my texts--" Luke did what he did best, and he found himself arm-hugged by the larger man as he went to look for his phone, and Safira did what Safira did best, and she was on her phone in a minute, locating her phone faster than light traveled and immediately going to call her son.

If it was just because Arra was mad at him, he would have answered his mother, but he didn't.

Ignacio was shaking almost uncontrollably. It was a thin veneer of confidence, projected by a need to lie, lie, lie that kept him from breaking down in front of Arra's parents then and there. Luke suggested Ignacio try calling, perhaps he would respond to something from his boyfriend more readily than his parents. Ignacio doubted that, still convinced that he was upset, but also further convinced of the worst. He could hear the crunch. He could feel the crunch. The shattering rang in his brain and in his ears and he could just imagine an agent sticking his hand through Richard's chest and taking out the glittering prize that--

The phone went to voicemail, because of course it did.

Ignacio nearly wailed.

His head felt like it was full of cotton balls, and he was so tired, and Ignacio wanted to do nothing more than sleep, but he was so awake, and his heart felt like it was beating at a million miles a minute, and he felt like he could barely breathe, barely speak. Safira told him more than once that he needed to stop hyperventilating, but the word went in one ear and out the other. Ignacio didn't quite have the presence of mind to do what was necessary, and it took being physically sat down and nearly force fed the gel cap that was quite familiar to him at this point to get his breathing to slow to a more regulated rate that perhaps wouldn't knock him unconscious.

It was when he could speak in more than a croak and when he could see the words on his screen again that he attempted another message.



And when that didn't draw a response after five minutes, he picked up his phone and tried calling again. It rang uselessly, four times, dropped, and then let out a robotic, "You have reached the mailbox of," and then a cheerier, "Richard Arra Bell!" and then back to robotic, "Please leave your message after the tone."

There was a desperation in the, "Please," which was the only word Ignacio could get out before he nearly started sobbing uncontrollably.

He wasn't panicking anymore, but the images weren't gone.

To some extent, Ignacio was sure that Richard's parents just wanted to reason that perhaps their son was being abnormal, but he didn't miss that Safira was already on the phone with someone whom she was very emphatically talking to. Perhaps yelling at. Ignacio couldn't tell. Her words weren't absorbing in his mind, weren't even fully making it to his ear drums. Luz was circling his legs, jumped on the table and tried to lick his face, but it wasn't really registering. Ignacio couldn't take his eyes off his phone.

He felt so useless.

Perhaps he should power up? He could cover some ground as Sailor Encke. Cover a lot of ground, even. Maybe he could at least figure out where Richard's body had ended up--

The sound of his phone ringing nearly knocked Ignacio off his chair, and he nearly knocked the phone off the table in the process. He grabbed it and instead nearly chucked it, only then realizing how much he was still trembling.

He answered it, and nearly in a panic, pressed it to his ear.

"Arra?"

That fateful few moments before there was a response was always the worst.

"'nacio?" came the tired response, and Ignacio felt the tension suddenly drain from his shoulders.

"Oh thank god," murmured Ignacio, and he just about slammed his head on the table with the tension that suddenly drained through the floor.

"I," his voice sounded tired, like he hadn't slept at all that night, "woke up in a park. Against a bench. It's, uh," Arra was describing the location, and Ignacio was noting it down mentally, but he wasn't sure he really was hearing it.

His brain was stuck on woke up in a park.

Richard had never made it through his run.

He was alive, yes. His starseed was intact. Perhaps he had been lucky enough to run into a nicer agent, or one that wasn't feeling careless today, or maybe even one of the Dark Mirror Court, as he had gathered that they didn't seem capable of yanking starseeds. That didn't change what he could tell, though. Arra sounded drained. Ignacio knew how that felt. Arra had fallen asleep in a place where he never would have on his own. Frankly, he didn't even seem like the camping type. How much energy had they sapped from him?

"Can you come get me?" finally broke through, and Ignacio absorbed the words.

"Yeah," replied Ignacio, and his voice was perhaps less steady than he would have liked it to be. "I'll be there in, like, ten. Stay put okay? Maybe sit back down." He was already up to leave, waving vaguely goodbye at Safira and Luke, keys grabbed from the pegs and already being used to unlock the car before he was even in the vicinity to open it.

He drove without thinking, nearly on auto-pilot, nearly forgetting to stop for stop signs or stop lights and almost running down a woman who was just going for her own morning jog in the park. He pulled right up to the park bench even though he wasn't totally certain if he was supposed to be driving down this path, ran out of the car nearly forgetting to put it back in park, and gathered Arra up in his arms, yanking him close and nearly sobbing out his relief.

He stopped himself. He needed dry eyes to drive.

And Arra seemed too tired to take over.

He took him back home, and Ignacio knew there would be no watching of bad movies. There would be no extended snuggling, either. Richard was exhausted. He barely seemed to process his parents wrapping him up in a hug, and Safira quietly admonishing him for worrying her so much.

A lack of energy, though, did not imply they couldn't be close.

When they both laid down in bed, Ignacio wrapped himself around Richard, pulling him near flush to his body.

Ignacio couldn't save Arra from this city even if he tried.

He wasn't going to let him go.

Ignacio noticed the way Richard kept shifting, figured that he was restless. Considering it was obvious what had happened to Richard, Ignacio was fairly sure why. How much had he seen? Had it been drained out of him from afar, or had Arra seen his assailant up close? Had there been any monsters involved?

He still clung close, hoping the presence of his body would help calm him, needing his body against his own to not feel like his heart was going to leap out of his throat.

Unfortunately, the clinging seemed to just make things worse.

As much as he could on a bed, Ignacio jumped back in alarm when the coughing rang through the room, and Ignacio couldn't help the fear that struck into his heart. Why was he coughing? Had something hurt his lungs? Had something gotten into his lungs? Did he have damage to his ribs? Was some of it from exertion, or was some of it from getting beaten? Richard hadn't looked particularly injured when Ignacio found him, just tired; Ignacio also hadn't inspected Richard's arms particularly close, though, just happy to have him back by his side. Was there something Ignacio missed?

"Don't apologize," murmured Ignacio, unable to stop the worry from creeping into his voice. "It's okay."

Richard was back to staring, back to being unable to move, and Ignacio's heart sunk, but he pushed himself close again, laying against Richard's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Maybe it would help him to relax again. Ignacio wished he knew what he could do--

"The window's locked, for sure." Ignacio hadn't unlocked it any time recently. The only window he had been foolish enough to unlock was Tammer's, and well, they had both seen how that turned out. Ignacio wasn't about to try that s**t again, and frankly, he especially was not about to try that s**t on his own bedroom window. Alerting Richard to more goings on was just going to make Richard more nervous, more hurt, probably more convinced that Ignacio was lying, that he was actually cheating and whatever the hell else Ignacio was talking about was just some nonsense he pulled out of his a**--

Not that any of that mattered anymore, anyway. Ignacio couldn't save Arra from this city even if he tried.

Ignacio offered a, "Sure," quietly, and got up to move, but Richard was already doing that himself.

Ignacio couldn't even do that much right.

When he realized Richard was going to have so much trouble standing, Ignacio let out a strained, worried, "Arra, don't," but it seemed that his words fell on deaf ears.

He watched, distressed, as Richard got on his feet, wobbled, made a few steps, and then knelt on the ground as if that would fix things. And then sat. He couldn't help the noise of distress that squeezed out of his lips, and Ignacio hated it. Richard seemed so weak right now. He didn't need Ignacio whining at him when he was dealing with whatever he had seen, from having his body drained so badly that he fell asleep against an uncomfortable park bench. Richard was lucky no one else had come upon him there, that no one else had decided to kill the easy prey that he would have been just sitting there, out in the open, chest probably easily accessible--

Ignacio sucked in an uncomfortable breath and immediately decided to do something else to distract himself.

He made his way off the bed, going around Richard and checking the window himself. Nothing happened, of course, and Ignacio opened the curtains just a tad to show Richard that the lock was, indeed, turned. He also pulled upwards on the window a few times to display that it wouldn't budge, before he drew the curtains again, granting them both the darkness they needed for a proper and hopefully restful sleep.

(He knew it wouldn't be, he knew there was no way it would be--)

"The window's fine, okay? I promise." He walked over to Richard, offering a hand as Richard continued to try to stand.

Frankly, Ignacio didn't want his hand released.

If he could, Ignacio wanted to wrap around Richard like ivy wrapped around a building and never let him go. In fact, when Richard made no move to let go of his hand, Ignacio brought himself closer, not minding that coming closer required him to look up just a bit. He wanted him close. Wanted that reassurance. Wanted to know that he was alive, so maybe his brain could stop spiraling into a hole he wasn't sure he could pull it out of. He was fairly sure Luke had convinced him to take something earlier, and admittedly, it was keeping his panic at bay even now, but--

"Don't apologize," insisted Ignacio, again, before murmuring a, "Sorry," just in case that was too harsh. He lifted his other hand to rub the underside of Richard's chin, a signal for the fact that Ignacio leaned up just the bit that was necessary to give him a small, hopefully reassuring kiss.

After pulling apart from that, he offered, "I'm here, alright?"

Even if he couldn't be there for him like he was supposed to, he was here now, at least.

... Which just seemed like a poor excuse for helpful. He was a transcendent eternal senshi of seven years, but what use was it if his love was still at such extreme risk?

The wan smile was hardly encouraging, but the attempt at a stronger one was, at least. Maybe Richard was calming down a little. Ignacio didn't know. If kisses were what it would take to make Richard relax, though, Ignacio was willing to kiss him all day. Admittedly, he didn't exactly dislike kissing Richard. Oh no, what a tragedy that he'd have to do so--

His brain didn't let him stay in sappy, heady thoughts for long, and it smacked him with reality when he heard how weak Richard's voice sounded. His shoulders slumped, a tad, but he tried to keep a reassuring face on, still didn't let go of Richard's hand. Richard still seemed so wobbly, and he couldn't help but wonder again just how much energy had been taken from Richard. Had he been close to death? Of course, part of his general wobbliness and continued exhaustion could have just been the fact he had been sleeping against a park bench. Ignacio needed to keep reminding himself of that.

Richard wasn't dead, he wasn't about to die, he was safe. There. With his hand in Ignacio's.

The chuckle, as weak as it was, was enough to bring a bit more of a smile back to Ignacio's face. "Yeah." He pulled very lightly on Richard's hand, leading him back to the bed. Once Richard laid himself down, Ignacio let go for only a moment so he could go to the other side of the bed and scoot up to Richard.

"This is better."

If he stayed close like this, maybe Richard would stay safe. If he had been close like this, perhaps this wouldn't've happened--

Ignacio closed his eyes, attempted to breathe deeply with Richard, leaned in a bit to press his forehead to the other's...

And then Richard jerked upwards, coughing loudly, coughing in a way that sounded like his lungs wanted to eject themselves. "Arra," whispered Ignacio, unable to keep his voice even, as he shifted so perhaps he could rub Arra's back, maybe remove the tension. Why was he coughing so much? It was a thought that struck him a few minutes ago, and it was back again as he watched Richard. Had something injured his lungs? Nothing sounded wheezy or punctured, just... Pained.

There was a thought that entered his mind, but he buried it deep down before he could let himself entertain it.

Why was Arra apologizing? Why did he feel the need to apologize? If anyone should have been apologizing, it should have been Ignacio...

What could he do? He was useless. For all the hiding of himself he did to protect Arra, it didn't matter. Arra was his own person who did his own things, and therefore, eventually, this city would catch up with him.

He didn't even have the protection Ignacio's transcendence offered him.

Ignacio bit his lip, worried on it. He shifted to rub Richard's shoulder.

"Would it help to talk about what happened?" murmured Ignacio, even as he glanced away with a deep sensation of dread.

Richard needn't worry about Ignacio not believing him. That wasn't the problem.

The real problem was if Ignacio could handle telling Richard the truth. Because as he had been telling himself for years, if Arra knew what was really getting on, Arra would try to get involved. And if Arra tried to get involved, the trouble in Destiny City would catch up with him. And when the trouble in Destiny City caught up with him, perhaps Arra would not be as lucky as he was this time.

Because what he was this time was lucky. No matter the origin of his luck, no matter the prepetrator of the attack, Arra had been lucky.

It was hard to be lucky twice in a row. Less so thrice. Ignacio had no interest in risking it. He barely had any interest in talking about this topic with Richard at all. There was a part of him that hoped Richard would just melt into his continued massage, forget he even said anything, take a good rest and maybe even forget this ever happened. Maybe he'd attribute it to a fainting spell, or a lack of proper nutrition, and he could just go to the doctor's and get a proper scolding before moving on with his life. Maybe Richard wouldn't make the connections. Maybe he would just let it go as a fever dream.

Ignacio couldn't help releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding when Richard suddenly jerked and then dazedly replied with a not now, please. That was what Ignacio had been hoping for, despite asking, despite wanting to comfort Richard and ease his mind, until Richard said more, and asked for later, maybe.

He had the information that Richard needed. He was the one who could probably answer what happened to Richard, may have been the only one.

But he knew there was only one place this could lead.

It was with dread seeping out of the back of his mind that he replied with a, "Yeah," and leaned up to kiss Richard's forehead, before settling back into the soothing massage. The repetitive motion helped keep him calm in the same way his fidgets did. "I'm always here for you, Richard."

Except when he hadn't been.

He hadn't been just the night before.

He hadn't been there.

Ignacio didn't fall to sleep as quickly as Richard did once he was comforted. He stayed awake for a while longer, staring into some middle distance, continuing to rub Richard's shoulders.

He hadn't been there.

It ticked in his mind over and over, and he felt tears well up in his eyes once again. They streamed down his face, quietly, as Ignacio tried to wrap his mind around his own failures. He hadn't been there. Richard had been in deep, legitimate danger, and he hadn't been there.

The tears kept streaming as over a day of being awake swept him under.

He didn't stir again until the sensation of Richard pulling himself from their embrace registered in his mind. At first, it didn't register why Richard leaving felt so cold, perhaps colder than usual. Ignacio was, though, used to Richard waking up first. Richard had a lot of early classes to teach. Ignacio's shoots, while they did occasionally start early, sometimes even earlier than Richard needed to be awake, often did not. Sleeping for longer than Richard was not unusual, and his brain drifted back off almost as quickly as it woke itself up.

The brief sleep he fell back into was not restful, and Ignacio felt himself toss and turn uncomfortably. He pulled the blankets up, perhaps thinking that more warmth would compensate for the lack of Richard's presence. It wasn't a comfort. He turned over again, stole some pillows.

It did nothing for the fact that his face felt full of cotton balls.

Did nothing for the fact that his heart ached.

By the time Richard had re-entered the room, Ignacio had given up, facing the ceiling, albeit with his eyes closed. He caught the creak of the door, quiet as it may have been. He couldn't hear Richard's fingers drumming against his leg, exactly, but he could visualize it. Could also visualize Richard tapping his foot in time with the finger drumming, a rhythmic tick. He opened an eye, glanced over to where Richard was standing.

Ignacio hated being right.

There was a moment where Ignacio debated what cover the darkness of their room had given him, debated just going back to sleep, debated pretending he didn't hear Richard. He didn't want to have this conversation, didn't ever want to have this conversation. Only admitted that he was trying to save Richard's life due to desperation, and hell, he hadn't even done that correctly. If Arra knew more about what was going on, he would likely try to follow Ignacio. If Arra followed Ignacio, he would get himself into trouble. If Arra got himself into trouble, more trouble, he may not wake up that time. If Arra did not wake up, he was likely dead, and it would be Ignacio's fault again--

Save my life from what?

Ignacio had thought they were going to start with something easier, maybe. Maybe Richard, realizing Ignacio must have known something, would have just asked what happened to him last night. An easier question, one that would warm him up for what was coming.

But no, he started right out with the hardball.

A part of him strongly debated rolling back over and pretending he was still asleep, but Richard wouldn't fall for it. Ignacio was fairly sure his breath had hitched. He was fairly sure he felt cold, despite all his blankets.

His fingers clenched and unclenched underneath the blanket nest.

"I," started Ignacio, after seconds that felt like years, before cutting himself off. "What are you talking about, Arra?"

... Wow, great response, Ignacio. Thought real hard on that one. Was he trying to anger Richard, again? Hadn't he done that enough over the past week?

Maybe it'd buy him some time.