Archive of Our Own

Matsukawa was getting tired of hiding behind crates. He’d seen enough crates in his lifetime that if someone asked him to name one thing he knew would be everywhere on Earth—and probably off-world too—he’d say crates. Crates of shit that got them shot at and put them at risk of death, but crates nonetheless. 

When Batman had begun to actually assign them the mission, he’d come in with all the flair of something that was life or death. Matsukawa had been delighted, ready for the thrill of a good battle. All that had been ripped away from him when only three of his teammates other than himself had shown up. “Kid Flash B03.” Hanamaki Takahiro. “Red Arrow B06.” Oikawa Tooru. “Aqualad B02.” Iwaizumi Hajime. This wasn’t a big bad save the world mission. This was a drug bust of some sort in which he would most likely be working as their information broker and hacker rather than actually getting to punch some shitheads. Maybe throw a few Batarangs. He wanted nothing more than to insist that he’d rather sit this one out and train with someone than waste his time. 

But this was Batman. Bruce, he could handle, but as soon as that mask was on, he was no longer his son; he was his sidekick, and that called for a different level of respect. Especially in front of the team. 

He pulled up a few surveillance videos and a blurry picture, but even out of focus they could all tell exactly why this drug trade had just become a mission that needed to be handled. Long black hair and piercing blue eyes had stared back at him every night for a month after their first run-in with her. There wasn’t a nightmare he had during that time that didn’t feature a beauty mark and a punch that stung like a motherfucker. The room had fallen quieter somehow. Fear, he supposed. As if sensing the change in their moods, Batman began. 

“This mission is to be done quickly. In and out, no messing around. Queen Crow was spotted in the area and there are talks she is going to be taking this delivery. I need you all to get there and shut it down .” 

Oikawa’s voice sounded oddly small from his left, “Queen Crow?”

“I thought Kiyoko had been locked up in Iron Heights,” Iwaizumi added what had flitted through all their minds when they had seen her. The only question now was, how had she gotten out and why was she back in the game so early? What reward was worth that big of a risk? 

“I need names of suppliers, buyers, and why she is showing up now. Do not engage until the last possible minute. Stay quiet, stay low and be quick. Your main priority is the information,” Batman seemed like he was finished, but Matsukawa was far from done with hearing what the hell was going on.

“You know, I think she was coming onto me last time. Maybe all you really need is to send me in. I'll charm my way into her heart,” Hanamaki raised an arm up to rest on Matsukawa's shoulder, leaning his weight against it in a way that would have hurt if he wasn’t so busy trying to stare him down long enough that he got the message to shut up. 

Of course, he didn’t. When had he ever? 

Iwaizumi had his own ways of shutting people up. He chucked him on the back of the head and rolled his eyes, “Knock it off.” 

“Maybe you should just knock him out,” Oikawa offered, tugging on the string of his bow as if testing it. 

“I’ll hit you next, is that what you want?” 

And that was all it took for the familiar sound of bickering to fill Matsukawa's ears. God, this was going to be a long-ass waste of his time. At least the outburst had worked to ease a little bit of the tension in the room. Hanamaki was rather good at that. Maybe he was just a bit jealous of it. A tiny bit. 

“Are you finished?” Batman’s voice wasn’t raised, and yet, it shut them up quicker than anything else could. “I don’t need to remind you of what happened last time the team went up against Queen Crow. You four saw what she can do against eight of you. This is a low-stakes mission but in the event that she is involved, you take the information you have and fall back.” 

Iwaizumi stepped forward, “Sir, what if the information is incompl-”

“You take what you have and fall back .” It didn’t need to be repeated again. Not with how he’d said it. It was clear: they’d work with what they had. It was too risky to fight her with just the four of them there and no backup nearby. 

Hanamaki, for all it was worth, kept a brave face, but his hand shook where it was draped against Matsukawa's front as if he was trying to vibrate right through something. Oikawa looked like he was less than excited to take the risk of running into her again. He brought his hand up to his shoulder, rubbing mindlessly; the last time they’d run into her he hadn’t been able to use his bow for months. Iwaizumi glanced in between all of them, locking eyes with them in some attempt to calm what he was sure was anxiousness in his eyes—in all of their eyes. At the end of the day, they were new. Fresh to the scene compared to the Justice League. Someone like Queen Crow could take advantage of that knowledge and she had already proven that she could handle them all with no problems. 

There were no more words exchanged except for coordinates and plans. So many plans. Iwaizumi insisted that they needed more than one or two this time. They had no idea what they might be walking into. And that made his stomach start up some sort of weird spin cycle. 

It hadn’t stopped until they had arrived on site. No Bioship, no Mr. Martian. Yahaba was busy with school. They would have to use comms and pray that they weren’t interrupted. The warehouse was much too big to stay as one group, that much they had decided on, so they would split up no matter how much they all hated that idea. 

Red Arrow and Aqualad would take the back. He and Kid Flash were stuck trying to figure out a way to get in the front. Which is where they were stuck now, crouching behind some stupid fucking crates and contemplating just waiting it out here until the others made it all the way through the warehouse from the back. If they never met up with them they’d never know. Or at least that’s what Hanamaki had tried to reason. But that’s not how it worked, and neither of them really wanted to be the victim of Oikawa Tooru’s pissy mood when a mission went south. Or worse, Iwaizumi Hajime’s pissy mood. That reminder was what kept them both going. 

Matsukawa chanced a peek around the corner, watching a few thugs at the entrance argue about something. What really caught his attention was the guns they were holding. Specifically, the kind that would make him look like swiss cheese the moment they saw him. Walking up and knocking was officially out of the question. 

He looked at Kid Flash and nodded. That’s all he had to do before there was a breath-stealing rush of air, and by the time he looked back not only were the guards disarmed, they were pantsed. He really tried his hardest to keep it together but he was laughing right along with his friend when he returned. 

They fist bumped and now it was Robin’s turn to show off. 

It took one well-aimed throw to set off a flash of light and some smoke for cover before he rushed in. One of the men went down pretty easy—a kick to the side of the head would do that for you. The other managed to hit him one, two times. The world around him swam for a few seconds before he was able to bounce back. It took a few more hits to take him down, but overall the whole thing had been maybe a minute in length. Too long. 

They ducked for cover behind another stack of—ding, ding, ding—crates as a vehicle pulled around the side of the building. 

It paused for a long moment before someone jumped out, brandishing a gun. He swung it wildly as he surveyed the area, approaching the guards that they had just taken care of. He squatted down to check one of the men’s pulses before nodding back towards the truck. Five more men piled out at his signal, all of them holding swiss cheese guns and all of them looking rather pissed that whatever plans they had were being spoiled. 

Hanamaki placed a finger against the tip of his nose cheekily, mouthing the word “pink” with a smirk. Sometimes, Matsukawa really wanted to knock his ass out. Sometimes, he rather liked the flutter in his heart when he looked like that. 

He dug around in one of his pouches, glaring as Kid Flash made a show of making himself at home in their hiding spot, mimicking whistling. If Matsukawa had been any worse of a person he would have stepped on his face instead of the crate behind him to hoist himself up into a better throwing position. Speedsters, he’d noticed, seemed to do only a few things flawlessly. Be fast, eat him out of a house and home, and be charmingly annoying. If he maybe let his foot nudge the side of his head on the way up then that was entirely Hanamaki’s fault. 

Ducking behind his new cover, Matsukawa watched as the men seemed to spread further apart. Amateurs then. There was safety in numbers, even when you were armed with a gun that could make someone look like a sweater at a moth family celebration. 

Who in their right mind was hiring amateurs for something that Kiyoko Shimizu was involved in? 

“Someone’s gonna be mad,” Hanamaki muttered from his right and if he hadn’t lived with Batman for most of his life, it would have scared him shitless. “These guys are sloppy.”

He pulled back to toss a few smoke bombs effortlessly as he agreed, “Easy to pick off.”

There was the general curiosity of what child was laughing at them and where he was at and then there was the release of the smoke, the shouts of confusion. Chaos. This is where he flourished. Where he had to flourish. Robin was meant to be the chaos to Batman’s order and Matsukawa had been Robin long enough that chaos was just second nature in battle. Well, that and running his mouth maybe a little too much, but that wasn’t just a Robin thing. It was apparently a Kid Mouth thing. 

It was easy to jump in and knock out enough of the men that by the time the smoke cleared he only had one gun to worry about, and Hanamaki made quick work of that as well as its owner. 

They worked like that the rest of the night. Sneaking around, taking out guys, discovering intel, and stealing samples of the mysterious substances they found along the way. Eventually, it became some sort of competition of who could be the most efficient. Maybe that was where they got sloppy. Maybe this whole thing had happened because the four of them had come in with far too little information on the spotting of a villain who just over half a year ago had handed their asses to them and barely broken a sweat. She’d come out looking like she’d been snagged by some thorns at most and they all had come out looking like death warmed over. 

Every single one of them. Four of them didn’t stand a chance. 

They’d met up with Red Arrow and Aqualad about halfway through, just as planned. They had stood there, exchanging information as they could, collecting the samples in one place and speculating on what was really going on here. Hanamaki’s insight was extremely helpful. Looking at some of the molecular structures they had found and offering up guesses as to what they could be or what they might need them for. Matsukawa tried not to sound too impressed with him, but truthfully, he always was a little bit. 

Oikawa had wandered off at some point to collect some of his still salvageable arrows and Iwaizumi had started to patrol the room again just in case any of their friends decided to wake up a little too early from their naps. Matsukawa was content to look through some of the files they’d managed to collect while Hanamaki lounged next to him, peeking over his shoulder and offering insight or a bad joke from time to time. They were basking in the glow of a mission that had gone off without a hitch, one that would allow for a quick escape home to the showers and their beds. 

Well, most of them showered. Sometimes he wasn’t too sure about Hanamaki. 

He was so distracted scrolling through some detailed game plan for a hit on a pharmaceutical company in Maine that he would have been impaled if Kid Flash hadn’t kicked into gear and carried them both out of the way. 

They’d done this about a thousand times before. Hanamaki saved him with his superspeed, made some joke about how heavy he was, and then dropped him so that they could kick ass. It was habit. Except this time the joke never came and the drop didn’t take its place. Kid Flash just held him, eyes locked onto the dagger on the floor. 

The crow feather pattern on the hilt was all too familiar. 

The trance that had overcome him snapped just as unexpectedly as it had started. “The guys!” 

Any warmth in the air fled as the realization hit him. Oikawa and Iwaizumi had gone off on their own. They’d deemed it safe. All of them. If anything had happened to either of them, it was on them for not being there. For not expecting the worst. They should have left. Gone through things at the cave. They’d gotten cocky. He hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. 

When Matsukawa's feet hit the ground, he didn’t feel it. He was numb. Everything was fuzzy, too hard to comprehend or to get himself to move. This was terror. 

There was movement to his left and before he could react he was skidding across the floor, watching Hanamaki fly the other way. The room was fuzzy again, worse this time. He’d hit his head, probably hard enough for a concussion to set in. There wasn’t time to think about it, not that he could anyway. 

The click of heels on cement was like someone taking a meat pulverizer to his brain. “Whining already, boys? I expected more after so long apart.” 

Movement of pink and yellow told him that at least Hanamaki was moving again—at the pace of a snail, but he was alive. Matsukawa turned to watch him try to pull himself to his feet, only to be stomped back into the ground by an orange-bottomed black stiletto. The air left him in a rush that Matsukawa could hear all the way across the room. He tried not to think about the fact that he thought he’d heard a crunch or two that he shouldn’t have. 

“I’m a little offended, really.” Her voice was as sickly sweet and deadly quiet as he remembered. “Only four of the clowns showed up to the circus today, bird-boy?” 

Before Matsukawa could jump in to ask what she’d done with Red Arrow and Aqualad, Kid Flash seemed to catch his breath. At least enough that he could let out what was more of a series of wheezes than a chuckle. Somehow, he never managed to stop impressing him regardless of the time they’d known each other. 

“Can you push down a little harder next time, babe?” He pushed up against the weight holding him down as best he could, though she didn’t budge an inch. “I hold a lot of tension in my spi—” 

Her foot moved far too fast for Matsukawa's eyes to keep up, but the strangled cry as Hanamaki slid back a few inches told him more than he wished he knew. The nasty pool of blood under his face let him know that she’d broken his nose at the least, if not much more than that. The stillness let him know he was barely clinging to consciousness, if not already out. 

Hanamaki was putting himself in danger to give him time to think of how to get them out of this. Thinking hurt, his mind was a little bit like that alphabet soup that Bruce had made him when he was sick that had actually done nothing but make it worse. He still needed to try to figure something out. A dazed plan was better than winging it here.  

He needed to figure out where Red Arrow and Aqualad were. Leaving without them would be not only damning them to death or near-death but would also break every rule in the superhero bro codebook, which was about the fastest way to never hear the end of Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s lectures and bitching. He’d rather die here than risk that. Whenever all else failed, asking politely was always the go-to, and if the conversation bought time for him to think of how to save his and Kid Flash’s skin from Kiyoko then great. 

Praying that his voice sounded more menacing than he expected, he spoke up, “What did you do with them?”

“With who?” Her chuckle made his skin crawl. “The other members of your little boyband? I gave them the chance to run and they did. Scampered off together and left you two here all alone with me. Guess you two like them a little more than they like you, huh? Must be heartbreaking to know. Abandoned by your own teammates.” 

She waltzed over to where Hanamaki was pushing himself back up, or attempting to anyways, he was failing. He hit the ground again with a puff of breath, “They…wouldn’t.” 

“Oh, they wouldn’t? You’d be surprised just how fast you heroes crack when given the chance to save your own necks. Rushing into battles that you know you can win to save people makes a great show of being selfless. Brave, even. Self-sacrificial. The moment you’re hit with the unexpected though, you’ll turn on each other like starving animals.” Queen Crow, it turned out, was not immune to the villainous urge to talk more than Kid Flash when he was on one of his rants. Which was saying something because Hanamaki could talk faster than the average person if he wanted to. Much faster. She also was not immune to pinpointing the one thing she was after and focusing mostly on it, or in this case, him. She’d barely spared Matsukawa a glance since she started. “Look, birdie, I’ve got no qualms with Batman. I’ll let you go just like them. You just leave speedy with me and let me do what I need to do to get what I need from the Flash. Sure you lose your little boyfriend but hey, we’re young, right? There are plenty of people who’d snap at the chance to have you. You won’t miss him within the month.” 

As if proving her point somehow, the puff of pink hair that stuck out of the cowl of Kid Flash’s outfit was yanked up, taking him with it. One talon-like finger traced the line of his cheekbone before her hand reached down to drag him up by the front of his clothes. She let him dangle like that, watching Matsukawa like she knew that he was far too scared to try anything right now. Not with Hanamaki so close and knowing that he was her target here. It didn’t matter to her if he died here or not. It would still hurt Barry. 

There was a reason she was keeping him alive this long though. Maybe if he could get her to slip up and say what it was, he could figure out a way to get them out of this. Maybe, though, she was just a monster and wanted the satisfaction of knowing that Kid Flash had watched his team run out on him. Nothing would take the fight out of someone quicker than broken trust when it was needed most. 

“Maybe you didn’t understand, you did hit your head pretty hard. I’m gonna give you one last chance to get up and run or you’re going to the grave with him.” His lack of answer to her obvious scheme seemed to piss her off. Good. 

Queen Crow watched with an amused smile as Matsukawa dragged himself up from the ground. She took one glance at the boy that she was still dangling in the air and then tossed him like a ragdoll at his feet. 

“KF, hey, can you hear me?” Hanamaki’s eyes were barely open, but he was still awake. That was better than nothing. Matsukawa kept his voice soft but he knew that she’d hear no matter what they did. Superhearing was a bitch. “I’m not leaving you here. We’re gonna get—”

Matsukawa wasn’t sure what was so funny about trying to help him sit up but he watched in awe as the other started laughing through the pain that was clear on his face, “Don’t be stupid and try to play Batman right now. You can’t do anything for me or R.A. and Aqualad if you’re dead. Go.”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere unless you’re right behind me.” They stared each other down for a few more seconds before the moment of peace was broken by a nightmare-inducing giggle. 

Hanamaki tensed in his arms, eyes falling shut for a few seconds. He was trying hard to bite his tongue and wait this out. Trying to buy time had just gotten him beaten to hell and back. But he’d put his trust in the wrong person this time. Matsukawa couldn’t think of a single way out of this, and distractions wouldn’t work on someone with Kiyoko’s enhanced senses or skill. They couldn’t try to make a run for it. They’d have to fight their way out of this. 

Matsukawa would have to fight for them. Kid Flash wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. His breath sounded wheezy. His ribs were probably healing themselves but there wasn’t nearly enough time for them to heal fully. Doing anything now was asking to puncture a lung if it hadn’t already happened. Hanamaki could already be on his way to dying as they were sitting there and there was nothing he could do about it. 

“You two should come with popcorn.” Kiyoko was picking at her nails, uninterested. 

The sight made his blood boil. Enough. He’d gone up against worse. He just needed to find her weakness, just survive long enough to figure out how to take her down. Batman was the world’s greatest detective, and learning under him had taught him more than enough about reading people. Now he just needed to make sure that he did it flawlessly or they were both dead where they stood.

Hanamaki caught his wrist as he started to stand. If he believed in a God, he looked like he would be praying for them to step in right about now. Matsukawa just winked at him and with a well-aimed shot of his grappling hook, took off towards the exit of the building. 

Being kicked out of the air by a woman who could break his arm with her pinky finger hurt, regardless of if he landed on his feet or not. The momentum carried him back a few feet, giving him plenty of room to set off smoke between himself and his pursuer. He rolled behind a support pillar, activating his first bomb and slapping it on. She’d find him, but he was counting on it. 

This game of cat and mouse would serve as his plan if he could survive it long enough. 

He leapt out of the way of a fast-approaching blade, rolling back up onto his feet just in time to catch Queen Crow’s fist with his face. That one would make his dentist very upset. He was pretty sure he’d just swallowed his own tooth which was something he really didn’t have the time or stomach to think about right then. He couldn’t be too upset about it though. Not when she’d given him an excuse to stumble back into his next target, attaching the bomb successfully. 

If he was any less of a hero he probably would have run away crying when Kiyoko started to rush at him. Instead, he prayed that she wasn’t carrying some invisible weapon and used her shoulders to hoist himself up and over her. He used her shock from the impact of hitting metal instead of flesh to toss a Batarang into her shoulder. She shrieked in rage and Matsukawa took the time it gave him to plant two more bombs.

One more to go. Right behind Hanamaki. He could plant it, grab him, take off towards the roof, and set them off. They’d be up high enough to evade most of the damage. If they were lucky and this worked how he’d planned, Queen Crow would be too busy digging herself out to follow them for a while. 

Then they’d just have to survive in the surrounding area until someone came to get them. If they hadn’t already missed the last check-in to base and had someone coming for backup, they would soon. Surviving long enough to gather backup and go back in to find Aqualad and Red Arrow was their only plan. Their only option. 

It would have gone off without a hitch if Hanamaki hadn’t picked that moment to decide that he was healed enough to get back up on his feet. 

Matsukawa had started to call out to him to stand down but he was too late. Kid Flash had thrown himself at Kiyoko, sending them both to the ground. For what it was worth, he was pretty scrappy, but this wasn’t sparing between teammates. She had him pinned in seconds. 

She got in a few punches that made Matsukawa's jaw sore just watching before he could get to them. “You just don’t know when you’ve lost, do you?” 

He was pretty sure she had been talking to Kid Flash, but maybe she had been talking directly to him without much thought because he had barely gotten himself wrapped around her to try to free Hanamaki when she had already sent him sailing backward. 

He landed on his shoulder, burning pain spreading out from the place of impact until his eyes were watering. It was almost too painful to use to push himself back up. Of course, he was too late. He had never been fast enough when it came to stopping speedsters. 

All he could do was watch as Kid Flash was tossed and then pounced on again. The dagger that had clattered to the ground earlier after his dodge was inches from them now. Matsukawa kicked into overdrive, reaching for anything to throw—he’d never get there in time on his feet. His shoulder screamed in protest, but he threw. Too late, anyway. 

In horror, he watched Kiyoko plunge the dagger into Kid Flash’s shoulder, staining the yellow color red around the edges. He wasn’t sure who screamed louder, him or Hanamaki. 

“Stay down,” she ordered when he moved as if he was going to pull the blade free. Then she went to town again, punching until Matsukawa made it to them.

He was caught by the throat, hoisted off the ground as he clawed desperately to get out of her hold. His kicking did nothing but make her grunt like an annoyed parent at a child throwing a fit. Which is about as much effect as he was having on her. 

“I’m done amusing you,” Kiyoko growled out, raising her other hand and letting whatever she had been holding clatter to the ground. He was the next thing to go, coming face to face with the bombs he’d placed. They were ruined. “I’m a little insulted. Not sure if you thought you were that great at your job or if you thought I was that stupid. Either way, you’re back to square one. You should have taken the offer to run, bird-brain.” 

“Go to hell,” was all he could manage. 

Queen Crow just laughed, nudging his chin with the toe of her heel, “Right after I send your boyfriend before me.”

Matsukawa surged up to fight back, blood boiling. He didn’t get much further than sitting up because Kiyoko had the upper hand and he had no plan. The bottom of her heel was the last thing he saw before black 

When Matsukawa woke up the first thing that registered was the pain. A burning in his right arm, throbbing in his head, and a general ache of forming bruises over the rest of him. The low light of his current location was at least easy enough to adjust to with the world’s worst headache. He reached for his supplies to find that they were gone. It was probably the first thing that set off the panic that overcame him in the next few seconds as everything started to come back to his foggy mind. His plan had failed. He had no idea where he was but they’d been moved. They. Hanamaki. Oh God, she had stabbed Hanamaki.

“KF!” He hauled himself up, searching the dark around him. 

A weak voice from his right called out to him, “Rob? Over here.”

It was easy enough to find him after the panic had dwindled a bit. He’d taken up home in one of the only places where Matsukawa could see anything. His shoulder had been patched up by someone. Messy, but it was at least stopping the bleeding enough that it would take him a while longer to bleed out. They had maybe an hour tops if the red coloring of his outfit was anything to go by. Maybe if they were lucky that was enough time for Hanamaki’s rapid healing to kick in. 

Queen Crow did have a plan for him. Otherwise, he would have been left there to bleed out without hesitation. If the only goal was to have him dead she could have waited about eight minutes and had just that. That much was obvious. What that plan was, they had no idea—and that was the scary part. 

“Are you healing?” Matsukawa leaned back against the wall next to his friend, too afraid to look at him when he gave the answer. He didn’t even bother to give a verbal one. The silence spoke for itself. She’d done something to keep him from healing at his normally accelerated rate. 

It was then that the red light caught his eye. Power-dampening collars. How she’d gotten her hands on one he didn’t want to know, but without his speed, nothing worked fast. 

“Does it hurt?” Hanamaki’s voice was quieter than he’d ever heard it. “Your shoulder, I mean. It looks swollen.”

He pressed closer until their shoulders were touching, and even with how slowly he’d moved they both winced. It would have been comforting, except Hanamaki always ran inhumanly warm, and now he felt almost cold to the touch. Matsukawa wasn’t sure if he was shaking in fear or if the other was shivering, but someone was trembling. 

They didn’t talk for a long time. There wasn’t much to say when you were locked up, two of your teammates M.I.A., and you had no way to call for backup or even know where to call them to. Whatever backup had inevitably come by now since they failed to report in would go to their last known location. Matsukawa had no idea how far away they were or if they had left behind enough evidence to even direct anyone towards them in time. 

“Can’t believe she thinks we’re dating,” Kid Flash spoke up suddenly, laughing a bit until he moved too much and groaned in pain. 

Matsukawa laughed despite himself, “I’m way out of your league.” 

“Shut up,” the response lacked any of the usual joking sound that it would have come with. It seemed even that was beginning to be too much for him to keep up with. If something didn’t happen and quick—

He stopped himself from thinking on it any longer. Dreading the worst possible outcome of the situation would do nothing but make them feel hopeless. As cliche as it was, Matsukawa would have to make himself believe that someone was going to get to them in time. He could believe for a moment that maybe what Queen Crow had said about Aqualad and Red Arrow had been true—all except for the abandonment part. Maybe they’d seen a chance to run for help and had trusted them to survive until they could get back. Or maybe Batman, ever a stickler for his field rules, had noticed they’d missed their last check-in and had sent whatever backup he had prepared to pull them out of this mess. 

The longer they sat there in silence, minus the sound of Hanamaki’s labored breathing, the harder it got to keep the best scenario in mind. 

Ever one to want to break a heavy silence between them somehow, Hanamaki reached over and grabbed his wrist. Matsukawa could almost imagine in that moment that they were somewhere else entirely. The way his heart suddenly sputtered to a stop and hopped into his throat probably would have been his cause of death had Hanamaki's hand not let go in favor of cradling his shoulder as he coughed. 

And yet, when he was done, though neither of them even spared a glance towards the other, his hand was right back around his wrist. Uncharacteristically cold and clammy, but his. 

“How long was I out for?” 

Hanamaki hummed for a second, thinking, “Well, I didn’t know you were in here with me for about ten minutes before you started screaming. Could warn a guy first, ya know. ” 

It wasn’t funny. Nothing about their situation was and yet somehow, they both still managed to laugh together. Suppose it became second nature after being friends for so many years and then teammates for three now. 

They fell back into a comfortable silence. Well, as comfortable as silence could be when there was a sense of hopelessness just on the edge of the air around them. Never touching but always too close to be truly relaxed. 

Hanamaki had long since closed his eyes, head resting against the stone wall behind him. There were bags under his eyes that hadn’t been there moments before and he looked paler than usual. Something told him that they didn’t have much time left before he was unconscious or worse. Regardless of the patching up, there was too much blood loss. It was almost cruel to think that this process had been made to go on much longer than it would have if she had just left him there to die. 

“You remember…” Hanamaki stopped for a moment as if making sure that Matsukawa was really there and listening. “...when we stole that Batmobile? We were like 13 right? Crashed before we even got out of The Cave.” 

Matsukawa nodded, laughing gently, “Yeah. Alfred helped me get the keys but he sure didn’t help me get out of the hour lecture that B gave me about responsibility and endangering others. Even though it was your idea. He didn’t believe it for a second. Keeping you around is asking for trouble.” 

Hanamaki laughed, a full, bright sound. One of the clearest since he’d woken up. It rang out and filled the air. He never left a room empty when he was in it. Always doing something to take every available inch and make it his own. Matsukawa hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the feeling until it surrounded him again in that moment. 

He stole a glance at Hanamaki, only to be met with his eyes. There was a pleading look there along with something that he couldn’t quite figure out no matter how much detective training he’d been through. 

“What about the first time you met Bruce?” He offered and watched as the pleading softened into something comfortable. 

“I thought Batman was bad. Bruce Wayne is a whole different type of scary.” Hanamaki shivered, though Matsukawa was sure it wasn’t because of the memory. “It was probably mostly my fault though for slipping up and making that joke about sneaking out to party. Probably wasn’t the best first impression on a concerned father figure.” 

“There was that time we did go partying,” Matsukawa offered with a smirk and Hanamaki held up a hand weakly in protest as if the mere idea of the memory was too much to handle. So, ever eager to please, he tried again. “There was that time when we were 11, at your place, your mom was so pissed we broke your window playing Mario Kart.” 

“You cheated,” Hanamaki stated. 

“You threw the controller at my head,” Matsukawa offered back. 

The hand that had stayed securely around his wrist since it had first been placed there was gone suddenly. He had opened his mouth to protest, though about what he wasn’t sure, when it returned. This time it was resting gently on top of his. It was easy enough to turn his hand over and intertwine their fingers, delighting in the way it felt to hold his hand finally. 

Days upon days of wanting to cross that line and it had taken them hitting rock bottom to get the courage to do it. He would have kicked himself mentally if he wasn’t so focused on all the other feelings that were suddenly welling up inside him. 

He looked to Hanamaki but his eyes were closed again. There was something much worse about the look on his face this time. The underlying pain had smoothed out and he was relaxed. Too relaxed. They didn’t have any more time left. Maybe that was why he held on a little tighter to let him know that he wasn’t alone, or maybe he was being selfish. Maybe he wanted to remember this feeling long after it was over. 

“Taka— Hanamaki.” That caught his attention, though it took his heavy eyes far too long to focus on Matsukawa when he finally managed to pry them open. He offered a soft smile, one that would have been comforting if it hadn’t stomped on his heart instead. “I need you to promise me you’re listening to me.” 

“My head hurts,” he mumbled and started to let his eyes drift shut again. “Let’s just…sit here. Quiet no—” 

Matsukawa had always hated interrupting Hanamaki. It either made him get all quiet and reserved, a little pouty, or it made him try tenfold to out-talk him, and that was a guaranteed headache for the both of them. Interrupting each other was something they’d always tried to keep to a minimum. It happened plenty with their many mentors and older heroes who assumed their lack of experience meant they had less of a voice in decisions. It was something that had pissed both of them off. Yet, Matsukawa couldn’t let him ask him to be quiet. Not when he needed to say so much in so little time.  

“You’re dying for Christ’s sake! I’m not letting you shut me up this time. Never again.” 

There was something of a shock in the other’s eyes when he registered the words. Neither of them had had the guts up to that point to say what was happening. They’d been avoiding it purposely. Now that it was out in the open they had to come to terms with it. The fear that suddenly overtook his friend’s eyes shattered what little part of him hadn’t when he’d spoken the truth into existence between them. 

The hand in his was shaking suddenly. “Keep talking.” 

That he could do. 

“You deserve to know that you touched someone’s heart with your life. Do you even understand how many people you’ve helped? How many people are going to mourn you? You’re a hero’s hero, dude.” Hanamaki’s shoulders started to shake in silent laughter, or maybe it was tears. “No, don’t laugh, I’m serious. You’re so incredibly compassionate and funny. You’re brave and you never hesitate to do the right thing. You are the greatest of us. My best friend. The…look, what I’m trying to say is that— Well really I should have said it way earlier because what does it matter now—”

“Issei.” It was his turn to be interrupted, but when he finally made eye contact again, he couldn’t begin to be mad about it when Hanamaki was smiling at him so softly. That look from earlier was back in his eyes. Matsukawa watched his lips work around silent words for a few seconds before he managed to get them out. “I love you too.” 

Like a dam, Matsukawa was unable to hold back his sobs any longer. He brought their hands up to his face, resting his forehead against them in an attempt to collect the broken pieces of himself. He was supposed to be strong. For Hanamaki. He couldn’t be. No matter how hard he tried to stop the tears, they kept coming. 

“Please don’t go. There’s so much I still have to tell yo—”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not yet.” He had been interrupted again, left to hold back his tears as best he could while looking at him. “You can get us out of here. I know it, but just…hold me?” 

Ever so gently their hands were separated but instead of being left without anything to hold, he was directed to hold his friend in his arms. He wrapped himself around the other, overjoyed at the feeling of Hanamaki gripping the back of his costume. 

This close to him there was an unmistakable scent of iron. He could almost taste it on his tongue. 

Matsukawa said none of this. Instead, just, “I’m not letting you go.” 

Hanamaki gave one last high, beautiful laugh. The kind that filled the air around them. “My hero.”

The hand that had been gripping his clothes had stayed like that for a few seconds after they had lulled into silence again. Matsukawa had just opened his mouth to keep talking like he had instructed him when he felt it loosen the slightest bit. 

Ice gripped his heart, stopping it dead in his chest. He dared not breathe in case he dislodged the other any further. It didn’t matter in the end, though. Hanamaki’s hand hit the ground next to him and his body in Matsukawa’s arms was suddenly too heavy. 

He pulled back to look at a face that was more relaxed than he’d seen all night. There was no tinge of pain in his features. He was beautiful, at peace. A small smile was seated on his lips, but he was unresponsive to his name when Matsukawa whispered it into the air between them, terrified. 

“No.” He trembled almost as much as his voice. “No…no, no, no. Hanamaki? Come on! Hanamaki ?” 

Desperately, he shook him a bit. Every passing second his chest was growing impossibly tighter. His vision was blurred, head pounding. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was trembling or if the world itself was shaking. 

“Takahiro?” he tried again, though he knew what the results would be no matter how many times he called out for him. Stifling silence was all he was met with. 

Matsukawa's throat was burning far before he registered that he was sobbing so violently he’d started to scream. Once he knew, he couldn’t stop. He screamed and screamed. Sobbed with his whole body until he was so exhausted that he had collapsed on top of Hanamaki. His energy was gone, his hope was crushed. His life was suddenly so hollow in that damp little cell that he felt like he himself was slipping away right after his friend. 

When he could feel again he could do nothing but bury his face in his friend’s chest and scream again. It was a raw, wretched sound even to his own ears. He hoped that, wherever she was, Queen Crow could hear every second of it. He hoped that she was running already, that he’d never see her again. Matsukawa had never been as good of a man as Bruce was. 

At that moment he wanted nothing more than for her to die in the exact same way that she’d killed the love of his life. 

His grief turned to rage far too quickly. Maybe the rushing of his own blood in his ears was why he couldn’t hear the rescue team on their way before Batman was dragging him off of his teammate. 

In his hysteria, Matsukawa had fought back against him with everything he had. It took Oikawa and Iwaizumi helping out to finally stomp out the fire of fighting within him. As soon as it was gone, he collapsed into their arms. He was numb again for the second time that night, but this time it wasn’t terror. It was a hollow, aching feeling. It spread through his whole being until he couldn’t stand it anymore. 

He did all he could think to do. He started to sob again, voice fading out and crackling from the abuse. The sound died out but his own voice was quickly replaced with two familiar sounds. 

Iwaizumi and Oikawa held him as he registered the wind of a speedster taking off. Barry must have taken Hanamaki. They all wanted to hope there was something they could do. Barry had the best chance of any of them. 

It felt like he sat there for hours, letting Oikawa and Iwaizumi hold him and holding them just as tightly before finally, his exhaustion caught up to him and he was succumbing to the pull of sleep.

When Matsukawa woke up it took him approximately two minutes to be able to get past the pounding in his head long enough to remember why it was there in the first place. A concussion no doubt, and one that had certainly not been made better by what had come after it. 

Flashes of Takahiro’s smile plagued him every time he closed his eyes to try to escape the light of the room or blink tears out of his eyes. He lost the fight in the end of trying to hold them back, and began to sob gently. The feeling of a hand grabbing his own dragged his attention to his left. 

There sat Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Oikawa had been the one to grab his hand, Iwaizumi asleep against his shoulder, looking like he needed it more than any of them. He, no doubt, had to push his own emotions aside long enough to debrief the mission to the necessary parties. He also would have had to be the one to tell the rest of the team what had happened to the four of them. He would have had to tell them all that Takahiro was…

“Barry called,” Oikawa spoke softly, squeezing Matsukawa’s hand when it began to tremble. 

“Don’t. Please…I can’t—” He bit his lip to keep a pathetic sound down, but Oikawa was always much too observant for anyone’s good. His hand only tightened even more around his own. He graciously kept whatever Barry had said to himself though. “How long?”

“Two days,” he answered easily, stiffening when Iwaizumi shifted against his shoulder. Something softened in his eyes and Matsukawa wanted to feel furious that he’d let him see something like that, but somehow he didn’t have the energy. It’s not like anyone else had known how he’d felt. “He’s been here the whole time. Refused to sleep for more than an hour or so at a time. He wanted to be up when you woke up but I don’t think he could have stayed up for any longer even if he tried.” 

Matsukawa smiled a little despite himself. If he didn’t think too hard, he could ignore that there was a space hanging in the air that belonged to someone that would no longer be able to fill it. He could pretend that this was just Oikawa and Iwaizumi being the annoyingly protective people they were. He could pretend that Takahiro had gone out to get them all something to eat because for some reason he had always been able to tell when Matsukawa was about to recover. He was just special like that. Was. 

“When’s the—” his voice cracked before he could get the last word out. His question hung heavy in the air even though it hadn’t been fully said. 

Oikawa squeezed his hand again but this time it felt like it was more for him than anything, “There isn’t one. That’s why Barry called. He said he wants you to pick out the image for the grotto. Just in case.” 

Matsukawa had been so focused on Barry trusting him with something so big that he had almost completely tuned out the last part of that answer. Just in case. It took him a moment to really process the words. He had to keep repeating them to himself over and over again. Suddenly, that numb feeling that hadn’t gone away since that day wasn’t as pressing. 

Just in case meant that Takahiro was still alive. Just in case meant that they had a chance to make it through this. Most importantly, just in case meant that he could have a shot at telling him all the things that he didn’t get to. 

What happened next shouldn’t have surprised Oikawa, but it did. Iwaizumi was tossed awake as the other leaped into action to try to keep Matsukawa from getting out of bed. He knew he’d been knocked up pretty bad and that Oikawa was only concerned, but he was fueled by hope and maybe a little bit of frustration at the situation. 

“I have to see him.” He struggled against the other as Iwaizumi blinked blearily, trying to gather what exactly was going on. When he seemed to get it, he didn’t say a word. He just reached out to put a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder and tug him backward gently. They shared a look for a moment and then both of their eyes were on him. Matsukawa would never get used to the way they could make him feel so small even though he was, physically speaking, the tallest of them all. “Don’t tell B.” 

There was a nod of agreement and then Matsukawa was on his way towards the door. 

“Hey, genius,” Iwaizumi made him stop dead in his tracks. “You wanna know where he is or are you gonna walk around with heart eyes until fate does it’s thing?”

After an intense amount of trying not to blush and an even worse amount of listening to Oikawa cackle at him (the traitor), he received the room that Takahiro was being cared for in from their trusty leader. If Batman knew he was the one to give it to him, he’d never hear the end of it. Something told him though that Bruce Wayne might understand, so he pushed on. 

No matter how many times he had to lean against the wall or shield himself from how painful the lights were, he kept on. He needed to see him. Even if it was just one last time. 

The door was staring him right in the face before long.

Matsukawa had fought off aliens, robots, witches, superhumans, and far worse, more confusing things. Now, though, he could hardly get his hand to close around the handle he was shaking so bad. He passed it off as exhaustion from the trip down the hall when he was supposed to be resting, but really, who was he to lie and say he wasn’t terrified. 

Terrified of what he might find on the other side. He was scared that maybe he was too late. He hadn’t really bothered to ask when Barry had last called to make an update on his sidekick’s condition. What if something had gone wrong and he would open the door to find the worst news? Worse. What if Takahiro was completely fine and he remembered every stupid thing Matsukawa had said to him? What if he’d only agreed with him to keep him talking? To ease his own fears of dying?

Matsukawa was scared of being rejected. 

The door opened before he could make himself open it. 

There, looking about as shocked as Matsukawa felt, was Yahaba. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a coma or something?” he pointed out. 

“No?” Matsukawa answered dumbly.

They stood there for a moment or two just staring at each other before Yahaba finally cleared his throat and looked past him into the hallway. “I was supposed to wait for Kyotani before I left to sleep but since you’re here…” 

Matsukawa couldn’t help but roll his eyes (fondly, but still). “Go get some sleep. I’ll stay until someone else gets here.” 

Yahaba looked more than reluctant to agree, even though he was the one who had proposed it. Eventually, his exhaustion must have won out because he slipped past him and down the hallway muttering something about kicking someone’s ass into the next dimension. Probably Kyotani’s, but that wasn’t Matsukawa’s business. 

He took his first step into the room and was greeted by a sight far better than he had been preparing for all the way here. 

Takahiro was asleep on the bed, propped up a bit and facing the door like he had fallen asleep waiting for someone instead of talking to Yahaba who had obviously pulled up a chair next to the bedside. He looked peaceful. Not in the same way he had that day, but there was still an air of relaxation around him. He was happy, whatever he was thinking about. It made Matsukawa's heart swell a bit embarrassingly in his chest. 

The shoulder that had been shittily patched together was now perfectly wrapped in pristine white bandages. No blood to be seen. He could only imagine how many stitches were underneath it. The color of Takahiro's face was a little paler than usual, but it looked more like he was sick with a low-grade fever than dying from blood loss. 

He looked…healthy? Alive? Beautiful? 

Whatever it was, Matsukawa didn’t get to think on it for very long because the room around him started to spin again. He managed to drag himself over into the chair that had been pulled close to the bedside and dropped down into it unceremoniously. The jolt sent an ache through his whole body but he couldn’t really be bothered to care. Not when at this distance he could watch the steady rise and fall of Takahiro’s chest. 

The sigh of relief he let out turned into a full-body laugh. He could do nothing but close his eyes and relax into the shitty armchair and let himself feel the joy of having somehow made it out of this in one piece. Both of them. 

“Always were a stubborn bitch,” he muttered to himself. Well, not really to himself because there was a laugh from somewhere else in the room. 

“You’re one to talk.” 

At first, he didn’t dare open his eyes. He didn’t even dare to breathe. That sounded like Takahiro. The laugh, the voice. Where it had come from. He hadn’t heard the door open. He must be going crazy, that was the only explanation. Yahaba, Oikawa, Iwaizumi…they’d all seemed so grim. If he had been up and speaking for days now surely their reactions would have been different. Right?

“You have got to be kidding me,” was the first thing he could think to say when he opened his eyes to be met with his friend’s own stare. 

When the words registered for both of them, Matsukawa’s eyes grew wide and Takahiro tried his best to hide a laugh behind his hand, though he was failing miserably. The sound was bright, open. It filled the room around him like a hug that he didn’t know he needed. It made him feel like sobbing again. It made him feel like flying. It made him feel a little bit like leaning forward into his space and kissing him stupid. It made him feel a lot of things, none of which he could put into words as he stared dumbly at the other. 

He, at least, looked amused, “You sure are mean for someone who took a beating to try to save my ass. How’s that big head of your’s by the way?”

It took Matsukawa another minute, maybe more, to even begin to think of words to say besides just his name over and over again. He’d never gotten to return the favor of calling him Takahiro. Of course, now that seemed so out of his realm of capability that it might take him another ten years to do it. 

“You look like shit,” he offered. 

Takahiro snorted, “You don’t look too hot yourself.” 

They sat there for a while just looking at each other before they seemed to realize that they were staring. Then it became a race to see who could look away the fastest. Which, in turn, became a headache for Matsukawa and a groan of pain for Takahiro. 

There was something heavy in the air. Something strange. 

It wasn’t that same feeling of dread that he’d had outside the door. This was Hanamaki Takahiro at his finest. He would be perfectly fine and ready to go after some proper rest and rehabilitation, and there wasn’t a doubt in Matsukawa's mind that they’d be getting their asses handed to them side by side again very soon. So if that wasn’t it, then what was it? 

Why was it that now of all times, Matsukawa had no idea what to say? They’d been friends for years, and suddenly he had nothing to talk about. Nothing to say and absolutely no desire to say anything because the idea of looking at Takahiro right now made him feel queasy. Nervous. Awkward. 

Takahiro broke the silence first, “Iwaizumi was worried about you. Oikawa kept coming to bitch to me about how he wasn’t taking care of himself.” 

“How long have you been awake?” Matsukawa supplied, though neither of them had moved an inch from where their gazes had fallen. 

“Barry told me that the first thing they sent him to do once they’d secured the area was to turn off the inhibitor collar she had me in. Guess it wasn’t too long before they found us. Said that had they been a moment later I might not have been so lucky.” He watched from the corner of his eye as Takahiro fiddled with his fingers, anxious. He supposed anyone would be, having come so close to death. Hell, if he wasn’t a metahuman, he might not have escaped it. “It was maybe a day of them making sure they were pumping me full of plenty of good I.V. fluids before I was awake. Only really started feeling like talking yesterday though.” 

Matsukawa whistled low. “Lucky bastard.” 

They laughed together for a moment before the awkward tension was back in the room again. Fresh out of things to talk about now that they had addressed his almost death, they sat in silence for a long while. Long enough that he thought maybe Takahiro had fallen back asleep. When he chanced a look in his direction though he only served to make it more awkward because they made eye contact again and looked away faster than they had the first time. 

It was another long period of silence before they started talking at the same time. They stumbled around for a few seconds before Takahiro indicated with a wave of his hand that Matsukawa should start. Matsukawa really hadn’t wanted to start. 

Fuck. 

“Look, about what I said…” he couldn’t find the words. It hadn’t been a lie but how was he supposed to tell his dead crush who was very much not dead anymore that he had been serious when he’d started to tell him he loved him?

“No, dude, it’s okay, I get it.” Takahiro waved his hand dismissively in the air but something about the tone of his voice was off. “You saw how scared I was, I asked you to keep talking. You were trying to make me feel like my life mattered, like a good friend. You maybe got a little carried away with the performance but how were you supposed to know I liked you, you know? I mean I appreciate that you didn’t make things awkward when we thought I was headed towards an early grave but you don’t have to tiptoe around it anymore. I’m sorry I made it weird.” 

The thing about being a speedster was that sometimes when he got worked up, Takahiro could talk faster than normal ears could keep up with. It had taken Matsukawa a while to get used to it, but he could make out the lowest levels of panicked speedster chatter. Took him longer to process, but he could do it. Matsukawa blinked several times too many before he finally strung a decent sentence together in his head. 

“Are you stupid?” 

Decent. Not perfect. 

“What?” Takahiro sounded offended, like he thought Matsukawa was rubbing salt in the wound. 

He needed to fix this. “I meant what I said. Every word.” 

Judging by the silence that followed, he hadn’t exactly fixed the situation, but at least he was less afraid that the other was going to punch him in the face. 

Well he was quite certain he wasn’t going to for at least half a second and then the look of pure shock on Takahiro's face was replaced with one of pure anger. He wasn’t really sure what he was angry about and Takahiro made no move to explain. He sat there staring him down for what felt like an eternity before he even tried to start piecing his words together. He could tell by the way his lips worked around the shapes of words that didn’t come out. 

Whatever anger there had been started to fade little by little until he was met with that same expression in Takahiro’s eyes that he hadn’t been able to place. Except now, he had an inkling of what it meant. 

Suddenly his cheeks were as pink as his hair and he refused to spare Matsukawa even the tiniest glance. His voice came out barely above a whisper. “I meant what I said too.” 

It took Matsukawa a few seconds to process what that meant. His mind was all muddled and whatever display of emotions he’d just seen had confused him beyond being able to try to piece things together. When they registered, it was his turn to blush and look away from the other. 

There seemed to be a mutual understanding in the air that what exactly it was that they had said, or in his case, had tried to say was to be ignored until they were ready to unpack it further down the line. Maybe though, maybe there was something that he could at least say now. 

“Maybe I got a little carried away,” he admitted, taking his luck with looking at Takahiro. The other turned to stare back at him, looking like he wanted to say something, but they’d interrupted each other enough for a lifetime by now. “A little dramatic, if you will, but I did mean it. That I like you. A lot. Have for a while.” 

Takahiro let out a little breathy laugh and ran his hand over his face, “So all those times we were flirting back and forth weren’t really a no homo situation?” 

“Never,” he confirmed with his own laugh. 

He tried not to focus too much on the fact that when Takahiro's hand fell back down to his side, it kept going until his knuckles were brushing against Matsukawa’s knee. He tried even harder to keep it natural when he reached out and intertwined their fingers, but one of them was shaking and he was pretty sure it wasn’t Takahiro. 

“Does that mean that I get to call you Issei from here on out?” The hand in his own tightened in a gentle show of understanding. “Or do you want me to come up with something stupid like Iwa-chan?” 

“Don’t make me regret this,” he teased, delighting in the way that the other laughed so openly at him. 

Though, as he sat there and watched Takahiro bring their hands up to press a soft kiss to the back of his own, he thought that maybe, as long as he kept looking at him like he was now, he really wouldn’t mind what he called him. He could insult him every day for the rest of his life as long as he was there with him. 

“Well, handsome.” Takahiro’s voice broke him out of whatever trance he’d been put in watching their hands. “Are you gonna kiss me or are you gonna sit there looking dumb?” 

Yeah, Matsukawa thought as he leaned in to meet his lips, Takahiro could insult him all he wanted. He could put him through hell and back, make him do every stupid chore that he hated to do by losing some stupid bet. He could call him all sorts of stupid names and make his heart do whatever dumb thing it did when he got a little too close to him or smiled just right. He could definitely keep kissing him like he was. Something so gentle and open that it made Matsukawa want to cry again. 

Hanamaki Takahiro could do anything he wanted to him, with him, for him. As long as he was there. Warm and annoying as ever. When he was around, life was a lot more fun. 

Love or not, he was something special.