Archive of Our Own

Was it really too much to ask for just one day?

Logically, the answer was yes. It was a sentimental, whiny thought, and hypocritical to the arguments he’d been making for days.

Barnaby himself had said that the day was nothing special. Any connotations to it were entirely made up and senseless, the by-product of a society he’d begun to realize was commercialized to the point of being hollow. He didn’t mind smiling for the advertisements, really – that was all part of the job.

But there was a difference between being plastered on ads for chocolates, flowers, whatever, and wanting anything at all to do with it, yourself. In a sense, he’d already been too saturated by it all to find any of it meaningful, if there were even any chance of that from the beginning.

It didn’t make any sense to make a show of loving anybody on the mostly random date of February 14th, anyway. That wasn’t how it worked, not really – love wasn’t showy gifts and sap-drenched performances. So many other aspects of Barnaby’s life were – but not that. Never that.

When you loved someone, he’d learned, you did so messily. Angrily. Clashing teeth, frustrations, flaws – they were all part of it, and much more so than any amount of the glittery, frivolous stuff found in any shop. When you loved someone, you loved every ugly part of them, just as they did yours.

When you loved someone, you did it every day.

So, to have a single holiday set aside to celebrate it made approximately a negative amount of sense. It was all so showy, so unnecessary, and the extent that people seemed to flaunt their performative affection was almost embarrassing.

Of course it was. That went without saying.

And of course he shouldn’t have been surprised that the man he loved – so completely sappy and unnecessary, himself – was absolutely head over heels for the idea.

That Kotetsu was planning something had been evident from the very beginning. Barely constrained smiles, excessive fidgeting, bright puppy-dog eyes that seemed to brim somehow more with affection by the day, always turned disconcertingly in his direction – did he have to be so obvious? Even going out of his way to ask multiple times if Barnaby had any plans for the day. As if he’d have any with someone else.

The idiot – he’d even managed to look thoroughly crestfallen for several seconds when Barnaby had primly replied that he would have to wait and see what his boyfriend had planned for the evening.

As if the possibility existed, for those few stupid seconds, that he might have been talking about a different boyfriend.

Luckily that particular form of empty-headedness hadn’t lasted, but Kotetsu hadn’t been at all dissuaded. Thus, by the time he’d actually managed to ask Barnaby out for the night – while producing a single, half-crushed and sad looking flower from one of his pockets – the invitation had hardly come as a surprise.

Honestly, by that point Barnaby had mostly been relieved that – as much of a romantic as he could be – Kotetsu also remained thoroughly bad at this sort of thing. Gifts and well-constructed plans weren’t his strong suit, which certainly spared a bit of embarrassment, even if it paved the way for god-only-knew what kind of awkward events further down the line.

In the end, it evened out. Barnaby didn’t care about this one way or the other, but he was content to placate Kotetsu while mitigating his own trepidation as much as possible. At the very least, it was likely they’d both survive whatever interesting things managed to befall them that night.

It hadn’t mattered. He hadn’t really cared.

So he’d thought, at least, until those plans were inevitably interrupted.

Just one day, damn it . . .

He’d been so careful, too. No interviews, a promise to only be called into work if it were extremely necessary. Asked for and agreed to in advance, even, long before Kotetsu had asked, aware as Barnaby already was of his budding schemes. . .

Excited as he’d been pretending not to be . . .

They’d barely gotten started, the sun just beginning to set as Kotetsu met him on the steps of Apollon Media and they’d set off together towards whatever it was he had planned. The smug bastard – a skip in his step and a carnation pinned to his chest, he looked on top of the world as he pointedly refused to say just where it was they were going.

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” he insisted proudly, an impish smile twisting his lips.

“You realize I know my way around the city, right?” Barnaby had retorted with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going to figure it out before we actually get there, anyway. Unless you have plans to blindfold me or something.”

The incredulous look he was given as Kotetsu scratched at the back of his head was entertaining in a way he couldn’t place. “. . . Please don’t just . . . say things, Bunny –” he’d mumbled, then took a breath and managed to put his smile back into place. “Look, if you do figure it out, just keep it a secret. We don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Ruin it . . . for . . . who, exactly? Me, or you?”

“Listen, man, just go with it for me, ok? Anyway – ”

Stupid. It was all so stupid. He’d have been so exasperated, not wanting any part of it at all, if every bit of that idiocy hadn’t managed to add up together in some illogical equation that managed to equal something . . .

Adorable.

Infuriating, endearing, and infuriatingly endearing, Kotetsu had deserved this day, so Barnaby had given it to him. Freely, if with a bit of complaining.

Why, then – why h ad they not been allowed to keep it?

Maybe, as a hero, Barnaby’s time just wasn’t his to give.

The instant the first signs of chaos made themselves known, their conversation had died. Shattering glass, distant sirens, then last – far too late – the creaking of a door behind them.

It only lasted a matter of seconds – what should have been, but very much wasn’t, time at all to react. He should have known better – paid more attention – acted sooner –

He should have never asked that they refrain from calling him. Maybe they’d have done so sooner, and they’d have had a bit of warning before . . .

Before . . .

Thoughts racing, solutions slipping weakly through his fingers, Barnaby could only fight back the guilt and panic as he froze and stared, entirely transfixed, at the knife that had been firmly and cleanly pressed against Kotetsu’s throat.

The man holding it there had come out of nowhere – at least, so it had seemed. More specifically, it appeared he’d slipped out the back door of the building Kotetsu had been facing away from. Judging by his wide, darting eyes, he was nearly as startled to have run into them as the reverse. He was dressed in a fine but disheveled suit, what had clearly once been professionally done hair now askew and hanging limply over his face. Over one arm was a bag, inside of which Barnaby could just barely make out something shining. It was difficult to find the motivation to look closer, even as his brain rapidly took in every other detail possible. . .

Anything to distract from the man’s other arm and the long, sharp blade held to his lover’s throat.

To his credit, Kotetsu had reacted about as well as he possibly could. Standing still, he’d raised his hands, palm out and open, for all intents and purposes surprisingly calm about it all. The set of his jaw and the manner in which the muscles of his throat didn’t so much as twitch beneath the blade belied his skill at navigating this kind of situation. Logically, Barnaby knew he could handle it – likewise, he knew that most people who took hostages like this in the first place wouldn’t actually go through with killing them, even if the hostage wasn’t a former hero.

That didn’t make his ice-cold blood run any warmer, or the sudden pounding of his heart decrease. He’d stiffened, initially braced to retaliate however possible before he realized that any ill-timed move on his part would end in that knife pressing deeper – whether the criminal intended it or not – deeper, drawing forth precious lifeblood and –

Mouth dry, Barnaby forced a breath, narrowing his eyes on the face of Kotetsu’s captor. Though he opened his mouth to speak, someone else beat him to it.

“Easy, buddy –” Kotetsu’s voice was level – too level, in fact, as someone who knew him as well as Barnaby could note. “Just calm down.”

“I think you’re the one who’s supposed to be worried about that,” the man hissed back, naturally unaware that Kotetsu was the kind of person to think of everyone else first, including his would-be killer. The criminal was still looking frantically around, perhaps in search of whatever route promised the best escape, until finally his eyes landed on Barnaby.

“I’ll do it – I swear to god I will,” he insisted, though Barnaby’s nerves by that point required no convincing. “So if you care about your friend here at all, you’d better listen.”

Oh, he was listening – frozen into uselessness, he’d managed to do very little else. By pure determination, he managed to slip back into a more confident posture. Everything was safer behind the mask of heroism, even if all he had was little more than a skewed approximation of his own face.

“If you want to talk, then do so. I’ll listen,” he said slowly, hands rising to mirror Kotetsu’s position. “Whatever you’ve done, I promise the last thing you need right now is more trouble. Hurting him won’t help you.”

But he was no longer listening. Wide with panic, the man’s eyes had flickered towards Barnaby’s wrist, fixing on the bangle that contained his hero suit. “. . . I know you . . .” he muttered, trepidation mounting in his voice. “. . . You’re with those heroes . . .”

The realization wasn’t surprising, nor was the disdain in his voice. The reputation of the hero system hadn’t yet recovered, and it was uncertain if it ever really would. In truth, Barnaby couldn’t blame him for that, but at the moment he had bigger priorities –

Things like the way that knife pressed ever so slightly harder against Kotetsu’s neck, just barely threatening to split the skin.

“Touch it and he dies!” Frantic, the man delivered his warning, only the rapid movements of his eyes from Barnaby’s face to his wrist signaling what he even meant.

“I’m not going to,” Barnaby assured, calm as he could manage. He honestly hadn’t made any attempt, and the assurance was genuine. It would take too long, risk too much . . . not to mention be entirely pointless. It wasn’t like he needed the suit to use his powers.

This guy was unstable. Whether he was really prepared to take someone’s life or not, he clearly wasn’t any kind of criminal mastermind. If Barnaby had to guess, this was his first real attempt at doing anything of the kind, likely taking action out of panic and force, perhaps used to ordering less fortunate others to do his dirty work –

It didn’t matter. None of that mattered.

The part of his brain dedicated to analytical hero work was becoming rapidly drowned out by the rest, which was becoming increasingly more panicked at the thought of just how easily precious things could be taken away.

The criminal’s hands were shaking.

The knife was shaking.

One day, one moment, someone was living – breathing – talking with you like normal, even making plans to see you again soon.

The next, they were gone. Gone forever, never to speak, to laugh, to cry, to do anything at all ever again, their absence tangible and loud –

The knife was shaking.

Just slightly – nearly imperceptible, as he clearly fought to keep it hidden – Kotetsu winced.

Just briefly, something flashed within his eyes that Barnaby wasn’t prepared to process. If Kotetsu was hurt –

If Kotetsu was afraid –

Body moving on its own, Barnaby lurched forward half a step, only to freeze completely still a moment later as the man cried out a warning. Thankfully, the knife appeared not to have cut any deeper, though he questioned just how long that would last.

“Take it off!” the criminal cried, more panicked by the moment and inexplicably more concerned with Barnaby’s suit than any other number of things he probably should have been. “Take it off and throw it over here!”

Like it matters. . . Letting out a quiet, frustrated breath, Barnaby slowly reached for the strap holding the bangle to his wrist. What would he do if I activated it right now? It had been a stupid request. Barnaby’s hand had been far away from the activation button, but now by the man’s own request it was getting closer.

He would kill Kotetsu, the small, frightened voice whispered.

Before we had the chance to stop him? The logical hero.

Do we really want to take that chance?

Barnaby flipped the clasp, unsnapping the bangle from his wrist, and slowly pulled it away. Holding the criminal’s gaze, he watched as he began ever so slightly to relax, eyes falling from Barnaby’s to instead trace the path of the bangle as it lowered.

“Now throw it here.”

Barnaby nodded. Then, he looked away, eyes instead meeting Kotetsu’s for a matter of mere seconds.

It was enough.

Lightly, he tossed the bangle towards the ground on the man’s left, the opposite side of where he held Kotetsu. Even further, the man relaxed, eyes tracking the little piece of machinery down and to the side –

Now.

It was only a split instant, but it was all it took. Feet braced against the ground, Barnaby immediately activated his powers and raced forward – ignoring any protest from his leg – with the intent of tackling the man backwards and to the ground.

He did so at the exact same time that Kotetsu took a firm grip on the man’s arm and, contrary to everything that made sense and despite Barnaby’s mounting horror, leaned forward into the blade. Hundred Power captured every detail in terrifying pseudo slow-motion, and it was fortunate for the both of them that Barnaby’s body continued to act on its own as Kotetsu then slammed his head backwards against his attacker’s, eliciting a sharp cry and causing him to fall back, away, and become all the more vulnerable to Barnaby’s attack.

In a matter of seconds, it was over. Good knee pressed to his chest, Barnaby gripped the man’s knife-wielding hand tight enough to finally cause him to release the weapon with a muffled cry of pain. He then went limp, surrendering once relieved of any semblance of an upper hand in the battle, but Barnaby found no sense of victory.

His eyes were fixed on the knife laying on the ground at his side, and the blood that stained its blade.

For a few horrifying moments, it was all he could see. Vision painted as red as if he’d been blinded by the lights of his own suit, he fought for breath, eyes wide open and fixed in place even as his body continued to fight through the motions of keeping the criminal beneath him contained.

How much time even passed, he couldn’t have said. Only that, when finally relieved of his arrested burden, the jarring sensation of a hand on his shoulder nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. Though, in truth, it was more like it pulled him back into his body from whatever sort of fugue state he’d been in before.

It wasn’t the policeman who succeeded in returning him to functionality. Barnaby honestly couldn’t have cared less about the officers mulling about if he’d tried.

The only thing he was focused on was the voice of the person speaking to them, carefree and informal as ever while explaining the events of the past several minutes.

There was no reason at all for Kotetsu’s voice just by existence to be as calming as it was. Though a large part of him refused to settle, muscles tense and thoughts wandering places he’d rather they not, at the very least he could breathe again, and horrific visions no longer flashed, consistent and unencumbered, in front of his eyes.

As he shakily rose to his feet, allowing the criminal to be transferred over to the hands of the police, Barnaby managed a shaking breath before forcing himself to look away from the knife.

That knife – that blood – that vision – wasn’t his reality. It wasn’t . . .

Kotetsu was just fine, standing and talking to a policeman with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a handkerchief to his neck. The idiot . . . he was even smiling, as if he hadn’t a single goddamned care in the entire world.

Blood still rushing in his ears, Barnaby could only stare at him for several moments, briefly forgetting that he was an autonomous human being with any kind of presence. Only once Kotetsu turned to look at him did he snap fully back into existence, a sharp breath suddenly forcing itself from his lungs as if he’d been drowning.

“. . . Well, that was . . . not how I planned things to go. . .” Laughing sheepishly as the police began to clear out with the criminal and they were once again left alone, Kotetsu moved off to the side and bent to pick something off of the ground. Only once he’d straightened, dusting off Barnaby’s bangle, did he remember having thrown it in the first place. “Quick thinking back there, though. Sharp as ever. You ok –?”

“Why did you do that?”

The words fell heavily from Barnaby’s lips before he so much as realized they were forming. All the terror of the past several minutes had boiled over into something unbearable – something that had him wanting to tackle Kotetsu around the middle and hold him tight enough that he could never slip away again. Something that made him want to tear apart anything in the world that could even threaten to do that.

Misplaced grief that came from the past as well as horrible alternate futures simply had nowhere to go. Unsettling, shifting continuously within him, it all melted together and turned instead into something far simpler to understand and express, just as so many of his emotions often did.

Fists clenched, Barnaby hid behind anger.

“Wha –?” Blinking in surprise, Kotetsu froze with the hand holding the bangle half outstretched. “Well, I didn’t mean to let him grab me. I know I’ve planned some bad dates before, but I’d sure never do something like that on purpose –”

“Not that,” Barnaby bit back, venom slipping into his voice to hide how it was shaking. “Your neck – you cut it. You should have just let me take him down, what if he’d cut you deeper?”

Still looking perplexed, Kotetsu reached towards his throat. He’d tucked the handkerchief back into his pocket, as the cut appeared to have stopped bleeding. Still, the wound was there, perfectly visible and marring his flesh, impossible for Barnaby to look away from.

“What, when I head-butted him?” he asked incredulously. “I mean, yeah, that’s why it worked – he wouldn’t have expected me to lean into the knife, which I had to in order to hit him hard enough to do any good. I knew how much I could handle without doing any damage – give me some credit, you think I would have just cut my own throat?”

He tried to laugh, but it didn’t work. Ordinarily, that lighthearted demeanor mixed with the relief still thrumming through every muscle in Barnaby’s body would have been enough to lull him into complacency. Instead, he pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. “No damage? Of course there’s damage – you’re just lucky it wasn’t worse!” he insisted, words coming out in a rush. “He could have retaliated, or panicked, or – or whatever. He could have moved the knife just a little bit and killed you!”

“It’s hardly the worst situation I’ve been in, Bunny . . .” Kotetsu frowned. The hand on his throat remained covering his wound, but Barnaby knew what lay beneath. He could still see it clear as day within his mind. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?” Barnaby couldn’t help but exclaim, even as he knew it was a fair question to ask. It would have taken far too long to explain the myriad of emotions in his chest, and in truth he had no idea where at all to begin. “What’s wrong with you? You need to be more careful!”

Finally, Kotetsu’s expression flickered as he jerked slightly backwards in surprise. Though Barnaby’s frustrations had been desperate for any sort of sign that Kotetsu was actually taking this seriously, it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he would have hoped. Instead, Kotetsu looked almost as if he’d been struck – damn him and that whole kicked puppy demeanor.

“. . . Sorry . . .” he finally muttered, voice dripping with confusion. “But I don’t exactly see what I could have done differently, other than growing eyes in the back of my head. Was I just supposed to stand there and let you do everything alone? How would that have been safer, exactly?”

“I could have handled it!” Protesting on reflex, Barnaby faltered a moment later. Could he have? The man had been distracted, but would it have been enough to prevent him from retaliating as Barnaby had attacked? If Kotetsu hadn’t acted to put distance between himself and his attacker, would being surprised have made him reflexively cut deeper, anyway? Deeper, even, than the cut that had been within Kotetsu’s control –

The chill running down his spine refused to melt in the warmth of false anger, causing his shoulders to shake. “And you should have let me. I’m the only one between us who was actually in a position to do something to help, and if you keep meddling like this you’re just going to get yourself killed! Don’t you get that?”

Almost as soon as he spoke, Barnaby had already begun to regret what he’d said. Yet, any further words, any clarification, any attempt at an apology completely stilled upon his tongue, and he could only choke on strange emotion as he watched something behind Kotetsu’s gaze flicker, break, then harden.

It took something special to cause that idiotic sparkle in his eyes to cease. Tired, hurt, stressed beyond any point of admitting it – even beaten, on the edge of breaking – Barnaby had watched that light refuse to die. It was one of the most insufferable things about Kotetsu, which of course made it one of the most inspiring.

But in the span of just a few seconds – a few misplaced words – it was no longer there.

Just as rare was the manner in which Kotetsu’s expression turned serious, morphing from that almost pathetic display of sad confusion into something hard and unreadable in a far more significant way than his typical cheery facade. It was like shutters closing off windows into a soul he knew so very well – better, in fact, than he knew his own – and suddenly Barnaby’s anger had entirely ebbed away.

What replaced it was a significant loneliness – one he hadn’t felt in ages and hadn’t wanted to ever again. Heart in his throat, emotion bitter and sticking on his tongue, he fought to convince the right words to form in his mind – to make their way to his throat, which refused to cooperate.

Damn it, say something –

But it was too late, and Kotetsu spoke first. “I get it. You don’t want me getting in your way. But you can’t blame a guy for trying – I was a hero, you know. I can’t exactly just forget that, even if I don’t exactly fit the definition anymore.”

What? No –

Though the look on his face remained more stoic and expressionless than Barnaby had ever seen him manage before, it didn’t quite manage to mask the very particular sort of hurt that only seemed to come up in regards to this one specific subject. It wasn’t something they’d ever directly discussed – perhaps neither had exactly been brave enough. Their reality was what it was, and there was no choice but to make the best of things, regardless of any lingering, underlying insecurities that always seemed to lurk just out of sight like a fragile bomb about to burst –

No. Kotetsu would never explode. He persisted through declining and even lost powers with a smile on his face, all the while refusing to acknowledge just how much the loss had eaten away at him. Unwilling to become like his misguided hero, he’d managed it so well – better than Barnaby had ever gotten the chance to tell him for fear of drawing attention to an alternative.

Something he’d just managed to do, entirely unintentionally, in one of the worst possible ways.

“That’s . . .” he began, then faltered and trailed off as his words failed him. What had before been pressured, coming out far too quick, then stuck in his throat completely. Perhaps that was just as well – what could he have said that wouldn’t potentially have made the situation somehow worse?

Was it even possible to put words to anything he was actually feeling? That same desperate emotion that still urged him to run forward and hold Kotetsu tight in an effort to prevent him from slipping away –

Kotetsu took a step back and shook his head.

“Yeah . . .” he sighed, scratching for a moment at the back of his neck. “You know, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Not to mention all the time we just lost. I think it’s probably best if we go our own ways for the rest of the night.”

This isn’t what I wanted.

“Kotetsu –” Finally finding his voice, Barnaby began to protest. But whatever was driving Kotetsu away – don’t go, damn it, please – had already taken root, and there would be no hindering his flight.

“I’ll talk to you later, ok? Goodnight, Barnaby.”

The sound of his own full name caused the lump in Barnaby’s throat to catch, choking him even further. Stunned into silence and knowing the hard-headed man wouldn’t have listened if he had managed to call out some sort of protest, he was forced to watch, wide-eyed and hurt, as his lover turned and departed with a brief wave over his shoulder.

Damn it – Kotetsu was serious. Out of anger, out of hurt – it didn’t matter. Kotetsu only dropped that idiotic nickname in very specific circumstances, and there was no other explanation now than that Barnaby had completely messed things up.

Badly, too, for Kotetsu to have left that quickly, abandoning their date and not even allowing him the chance to argue. . .

If only he could have convinced his legs to work in the face of guilt and rejection, perhaps he’d have been able to follow and fix things right then and there.

Suddenly alone – more so than he’d been in a very long time – Barnaby became dimly aware of the persistent ache in his chest and forced out a shaking breath. Finally, as even the police began to disperse with their arrest, he managed to convince his legs to move a few half-hearted steps forward before stopping.

Where was he going? Home? The bleak night ahead was suddenly far darker, far colder, than it had been before, and he knew that the last thing he needed was to shut himself up in his apartment. Even with plants for company, it was certain to be an unpleasant time.

Well, he certainly couldn’t stay here. . . here, near that door the criminal had slipped out of. Where he’d held Kotetsu and –

Suppressing a strange shudder, as well as the rapidly growing ache within his chest, Barnaby shook his head and began to walk.

The already fading light had completely disappeared by the time he allowed himself to stop, restlessness at war with a persistent ache that had been thrumming through his leg since the moment he’d activated his power. Walking had turned to wandering, which gradually became limping, and upon arriving at a bench in the park he’d found himself in, Barnaby forced himself to settle down while bracing a hand against his knee.

No longer outrunning – or even outwalking or outlimping – the emotion he’d been fighting to avoid, it caught up to him also as soon as he sat. Eyes shut, he swallowed and allowed his head to hang.

Had he really upset Kotetsu that badly? To think he’d actually gotten angry enough to cancel the plans he’d been so excited for all day had left a bitter taste on Barnaby’s tongue. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d said something without thinking – blunt and mean, as he seemed so often to fall into – that had caused some sort of damage. Usually, Kotetsu was strong enough, kind enough, not to let that kind of thing affect him.

I guess I hit more of a sore spot than I realized . . .

Right. That was enough of a realization to, along with the heavy weight in his stomach, confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was sorry. Of course, he hadn’t managed to actually say that – not when it mattered – and it wasn’t like there was much of a chance to do so now. Like an absolute idiot, when he’d started walking he’d done so in the opposite direction of Kotetsu, which had left no chance at all of actually catching up with him.

Then again, maybe that had been the point. Maybe the thought of having to look him in those far too serious eyes, devoid of their usual sparkle, and apologize for having been the one to snuff it out was nearly too much to bear. Barnaby had never been good with the whole direct, honest communication of feelings thing, notwithstanding those particular occasions he somehow managed to catch himself off guard before he had too much of a chance to actually think about what he was saying.

So, what now?

Did he track Kotetsu down? Send him a message to try and apologize? Call and see if he was willing to meet up somewhere? If he did manage, then what? What if the apology continued to stick in his throat?

More than that, what if it wasn’t good enough? What if he poured his heart out, only for that awful, serious look to persist –

No. He’d never manage to get that far. The fear and relief that had caused him to lash out hadn’t come out correctly the first time, so there was nothing to suggest it would do so even if he had the balls to try again. He’d probably just fuck things up more . . .

“Well – I didn’t expect to run into you of all people out here, Handsome. Not all by your lonesome, at least.”

The voice, kind and cheerful, was the only thing that succeeded in preventing Barnaby from following his spiraling thoughts down further. Suddenly jarred back into his body, his eyes snapped open as he looked quickly up to the well-dressed figure before him, who offered a warm smile.

Though he did his best to return it, Barnaby knew he didn't quite manage as he murmured a greeting. "Nathan. . .hey there."

It felt strange not to call them by their hero name – when was the last time he had even interacted with them outside of a professional setting? Navigating that sort of thing with the other heroes had never particularly been his strong suit. There was a big difference between "Nathan" and "Fire Emblem," but he was still working out where exactly that line formed within his own fractured identity. 

Nathan, to their credit and whatever that meant for Barnaby, didn't appear to mind. From the very beginning, they'd seemed to have the ability to navigate all those messy situations that Barnaby (and most of the others, for that matter) thoroughly lacked. If there was a nervous bone in their body, they hardly ever let it show. 

They certainly didn't now, arms crossed lightly over their chest and heels clicking against cobblestone they stepped closer to the bench. "'Hey there' yourself," they chuckled, "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

The question was gentle, yet prompting, and Barnaby spared a moment to wonder just what they'd managed to see on his face before he'd attempted to cover it. What they still saw now, even, as his facade failed to slide completely back into place. "Not at all. . ." He replied with a shake of the head, then hesitated while looking away. Shifting to the side, he opened his mouth, a perfectly formed, polite invitation entirely failing to materialize in the face of his own uncertainty whether he truly wanted to offer one. 

"In that case, mine if I join you for a moment?" 

Fortunately or unfortunately, they were ahead of him. Not entirely prepared to face the underlying worry in that soft voice, Barnaby nonetheless nodded and waved a hand towards the bench at his side. 

"I could say the same for you," he remarked, "not expecting to see you, I mean. You don't . . . have plans?"

"For Valentine's?" Eyebrows raised, Nathan hummed and took their seat, hands resting neatly crossed legs. Fingers pressed to their lips, they chuckled. “Oh, I just love that you assume I do – you really know how to flatter.”

“Flatter?”

“Well – you aren’t wrong. But I’m afraid my plans have to wait.” Sighing, they turned their gaze to the sky above them for a moment before looking back to Barnaby and winking. “Not that I mind, now that I’ve got such good company.”

Blinking, Barnaby followed their glance, unable to help but allow the smallest of smiles to twist his lips. “Your plans . . . have to wait . . .” he echoed, putting the pieces neatly together. “Right. He’s still patrolling, isn’t he? I guess there’s no such thing as a true night off. . .”

“You don’t miss anything, do you, Handsome?” Pushing lightly at his shoulder, Nathan laughed once more. “It’s alright. There will still be plenty of night to spend together when my dear partner is finished with his work – I just happened to finish my own a little early, that’s all.”

“I’m glad that you’re able to spend some time together,” Barnaby replied, entirely genuine if overly polite. To know that his friends might manage to spend a happy evening together made it easier to smile, even if it only caused the persistent sadness creeping from the center of his chest to twist tighter.

“You’re a real sweetheart, thank you.” Eyes searching his face, Nathan raised their eyebrows. They always had been a certain kind of perceptive, and Barnaby wondered just how clearly they were able to read his every heartbeat. “But I can’t help but wonder why it is that I’m not waiting alone. I heard you had the day off – you should be dancing the night away by now, or whatever it is your little Tiger had planned for you both.”

Damn – Barnaby might have blushed if he wasn’t busy feeling sad. “You don’t miss anything, either. . .” he muttered while shaking his head. “It’s nothing – things just . . . didn’t go as planned. That’s all.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Nathan prompted gently. Arm braced on the back of the bench behind them, they rested their head on their hand. “I don’t suppose that has anything to do with the reason why you look so sad, sitting here by your lonesome in the dark and cold.”

Was he that obvious? The way Nathan was talking, it was almost like he was some sort of stray animal. “Well –”

Mouth open, he hesitated, prepared to dismiss their worry however he could beneath a veil of nonchalance. But the thought of doing so was too painfully familiar – just like whatever kicked puppy look had caused that look of concern in Nathan’s eyes when he finally managed to meet them. Too reminiscent – too futile. Too hypocritical to continue.

So, after a moment of holding Nathan’s gentle expression, he let out a breath and explained what had transpired to the best of his ability, up through taking down the criminal.

“. . . Oh, honey . . . you poor thing. . .” Nathan said immediately, shifting closer on reflex with a hand raised before stilling, perhaps uncertain if Barnaby was alright being touched. When he made no move to pull away – a very recent development, friendly touch still unfamiliar – they settled their hand upon his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “That’s just awful. To think that something like that would happen today of all days! It just makes my blood boil. Poor Handsome – poor Kotetsu! Is he alright?”

“Yeah,” Barnaby assured with a nod, though he hesitated a moment later with his lips still parted. “. . . Physically, at least. It was just a cut. It’s . . . a very good thing that it wasn’t worse . . .”

There was blood on the knife. Just a few inches more. . .

There one moment, gone the next – right in front of loving, terrified eyes.

The shudder that passed through his body wasn’t quite enough to distract Barnaby from the guilt that came with thinking about what happened after. Despite himself, knowing that attempting to handle this alone would only end in further disaster, he continued to speak. Now looking away from Nathan, but well aware that they were listening, he said “. . .But . . . that isn’t all that happened. And I don’t know if he’s ok in – in other ways. I . . . I think I messed up.”

Nathan’s hand on his shoulder gave another squeeze. “What happened, honey . . .?” they prompted.

“I was – upset! I wasn’t thinking. I just – I said . . . something. A few things. All of them were . . . wrong . . .” Huffing out a breath, he shook his head. “It happens – I mean, it’s hard. To say what I really mean. It just doesn’t . . . come out right. That’s not usually a problem. He usually knows. Kotetsu’s good at that. But . . . this time. . .”

“What did you tell him?”

Blinking against a stinging sensation behind his eyes, Barnaby realized his breath had begun to come short and fast once more. Forcing a slow inhale, he swallowed and shook his head. “. . . It must say something terrible about me that I can’t even remember enough to tell you exactly,” he muttered. “I was. . . angry. At the criminal. At Kotetsu for putting himself in danger. I think I . . . accidentally insinuated that I didn’t think he could handle himself anymore. Since. . . he’s lost his powers.”

Nathan took a short little breath of their own. “Ah . . .” they hummed in understanding, allowing their hand to slide a bit down Barnaby’s arm. “. . .Right. I suppose if our little Tiger’s got a sore spot to press, that would be it . . .”

“I know . . .He pretends he’s ok with it, and he’s come a long way, but. . . still. . . ” Miserably, Barnaby dropped his head into a hand and pushed his glasses up to rub his eyes. “But that’s not right. It’s not what I meant. I was just – I was angry – I –

“I’m going to stop you right there, ok, Handsome?” Nathan interrupted, gentle but stern, and leaned forward in an effort to catch Barnaby’s eyes. Though they’d begun to grow wet – a fact which horrified him, even as he failed entirely to stop it – he couldn’t help but look back. “You keep saying that. You were ‘angry. . .’”

The hand on his bicep tightened, then fell to lace together with its companion in Nathan’s lap. “. . . Is that right? Were you really angry?”

Somewhere behind them, the water rushing from the fountain began to slow, easing to a trickle and finally to a gentle silence as it moved through its cycle. All was silent, save the rustling of the wind and Barnaby’s racing heart.

Finally, he whispered. “. . . I was afraid.”

The serious look that had overcome Nathan’s expression melted into a warm smile. “Of course you were afraid!” they scolded, clicking their tongue against their teeth. “Anyone in their right mind would have been. If it were my partner that had happened to, I would have been an absolute wreck – and that’s not even accounting for everything else that’s happened to the two of you. I’d be worried about you if you weren’t afraid. Ah – but you wouldn’t have wanted him to know that, would you?”

The unflinching honesty, as well as the simplicity the feelings he’d been wrestling with all night had been accurately reduced to, had caused Barnaby to shrink momentarily backwards, shy and disarmed. But Nathan wasn’t wrong – it was that they weren’t at all wrong that managed to be so jarring. “. . . I guess not,” he admitted. “And even if I did, I don’t . . . really know how . . .But I just . . .”

Looking down at his hands as they settled on his knees, the words, for once, came easily. “. . . I can’t. . . bear the thought of losing him. Not at all. . . especially not like that.”

“Well –” Nathan sighed, a sign that they already knew the answer to their next question. “Have you told him that?”

“. . .No. . .”

“Wel, there you go.” Nodding, Nathan sat back on the bench. “Although . . . it might be a good idea to give him the chance to cool down. I can’t imagine him actually being angry with you, but if he’s wrestling with some kind of . . . insecurity, it’s probably best to let him get it all sorted out before you try and talk.”

While it was the opposite of what Barnaby wanted to hear, it made sense, and he nodded while clenching his teeth. “I know. I was . . . tempted to chase him down, but . . . he doesn’t really do this kind of thing very often,” he said quietly, “I don’t want to risk upsetting him more or . . . doing something else wrong.”

“That’s fair . . . unfortunately. . .” Nathan sighed, and Barnaby felt them give him a light pat on the back. “If he asked for space, it’s best to give it to him. At least for now. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually – just give him time, and I’m sure at some point you’ll have the chance to explain what you really meant.”

At some point . . .

Barnaby’s frustration must have shown on his face, as a moment later Nathan clicked their tongue sympathetically and wrapped their arm around his back to pull him into a half-embrace. Surprisingly, he found himself melting just a bit into the touch, desperate for any sort of comfort.

“. . . You’re right. Thank you,” he said with a weary but genuine smile, “really. For listening. I’ll just . . . have to figure it out from here.”

“You can do it, Handsome – I believe in you, ok?” Nathan insisted, giving him one final squeeze before letting go and moving to stand. “He’s your partner – besides, your face isn’t one it’s easy to stay mad at.”

They laughed, then looked over their shoulder, arms once again crossed over their chest. “I’ve got to slip away, now – I think the wind’s calling me.” They winked, then began to back away. “Promise to let me know how it all works out?”

“Yeah – yeah, of course,” Barnaby promised, though he was admittedly a bit crestfallen to be left alone once more. But far be it from his place to deprive another couple of having the chance at a romantic night. “See you. . .”

Left alone once more as the sound of Nathan’s heels faded into the distance, he closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall backwards against the bench. Give him his space. . . Right. That was all he could do. That, and try his best to figure out just what exactly he was going to say when he actually got the chance to explain himself.

What if the words all got tangled up again?

What if the world where that bloodied knife took everything away from him overshadowed everything that actually was?

What if it was too late?

His eyes stung.

At least his leg had stopped hurting . . .

After a matter of moments, Barnaby’s lonely reverie was interrupted by the sound of his phone. Startled, he grabbed for it immediately and, barely processing the name and photograph on the screen, answered it in time with his leaping heart before the first ring had even finished.

“Hello?”

“Oh – hey. . .”

Barnaby’s answer had been urgent, Kotetsu’s surprised. Silly – always so silly – having the audacity to sound surprised that Barnaby had answered when he was the one who had called.

“I’m glad you picked up. . . ” Kotetsu’s voice continued after a moment, difficult to read and somewhat tinny through the speaker. “. . .And so fast, too. Heh –”

Barnaby’s chest tightened in response to that little laugh, and he had to swallow to hold back the sudden, inexplicable urge to cry.

“. . . Hey, you wouldn’t happen to still be out or anything, would you? I know it’s getting late, so it’s alright if –”

“I’m out. Can we talk?” The question, coming out quicker than Barnaby intended, cut neatly through Kotetsu’s shambling words.

He was silent on the line for another moment. “. . . Yeah,” he finally replied. “Yeah, listen, that’s just what I was going to ask . . . but . . . not on the phone, ok? It’s just not the same. I gotta . . . say it in person.”

All at once, the heart that had been beating his throat saw fit to plummet towards his stomach. Swallowing, Barnaby forced his heavy tongue to work. “Yeah. I know what you mean. I’m, um – I’m in the park.”

“Got it. Can I meet you near the bridge there in ten?”

“Sure. That works.” Please. . .

“Alright – see you in a bit.”

“See you . . .”

The chime of an ended call was then his only company, the silence he was left in somehow louder than before. But Barnaby wasn’t going to just sit there – even with the trepidation running through him, even with his mind conjuring worst case scenarios . . .

Even so, it was his only chance to set things right.

Somehow, despite his best efforts and having thought himself to be closer in proximity, Barnaby was not the first to arrive at the bridge. Kotetsu was already there as he approached, leaning on the railing with his hands loosely clasped together and face turned to the wind, which tossed wisps of soft, shining hair across his face.

That face was still serious – too serious – as he looked towards the city in the distance. It remained that way even as he turned and saw him, only changing in the most subtle of ways.

Something beyond recognition flashed in deep brown eyes, the lines of his face relaxed ever so slightly, and he swallowed. Little things – things Barnaby could perceive so easily, yet still have no idea what exactly they meant. Heart on his sleeve but the truth buried behind several layers of smiles, Kotetsu would always be somewhat of a mystery.

“Hey . . .” he greeted first, pushing himself upright. “Thanks for coming. Listen, Barnaby I . . .”

“Are you going to break up with me?”

It wasn’t the greeting Barnaby had intended to give, but it was what escaped his mouth when he managed to convince it to open. Hours worth of insecurity and fear condensed into a single, blunt question, and he couldn’t find it within him to truly mind. When sincerity was so difficult, so scarce, it was something to be treasured even at the most jarring and inopportune of times.

Suffice to say, it caught Kotetsu off guard. He stilled, mouth open, and Barnaby watched with a racing heart as his serious expression morphed into one of complete befuddlement. “What?” he finally said, confusion dripping from his voice, “No – jeez, of course not. Why would you think that?”

For a second, nothing else mattered. The relief that rushed through every fiber of Barnaby’s being was all he cared about, even more so than ensuring that it didn’t show on his face. Letting out a heavy breath – what felt like his first real one in hours – he braced himself against the railing with one hand and briefly allowed his eyes to close.

A dam had broken, some sort of balance having been thrown from one side entirely to the other. All at once, it was far too easy to speak – or, if not that, then at the very least it was far too difficult to stop.

“I know I messed up – I’m sorry,” he said quickly just as soon as his breath had returned. “I really didn’t mean to upset you, and I should have been more careful with what I said. I wasn’t thinking – I just . . . I’m sorry.”

“Whoa –” Shaking his head, Kotetsu reached a hand out, then appeared to hesitate before instead raising it to scratch at his beard. “You don’t have to – I mean, I get it. Really. I was being stupid, and . . . you were right. Maybe I should be more careful. It’s just how it is, right? Can’t ignore that kind of thing forever. Sure, I’m still kicking, but there’s no use fighting reality. . . heh . . .”

He laughed. He smiled. They were both sheepish, apologetic, and they both broke Barnaby’s heart. As precious and familiar as they were, there was nothing in the world he wanted less than for Kotetsu to put back on that kind of mask – especially while talking like that.

“No!” Once again speaking quicker, louder, and more assertively than intended, Barnaby shook his head and took half a step forward before going completely still once more. “You don’t understand – that’s not what I meant. I don’t care whether you have your powers or not! I just –”

Frustrated, he shook his head, then raised a hand to rub wearily at his temple. “. . . I was . . . worried. That’s all. Don’t you get that? That’s the only reason I yelled. I can’t stand the thought of losing you – especially like that – and the thought of you doing anything to make our already messed up lives even riskier just . . .”

“Huh?” The dumbfounded look was back on Kotetsu’s face. “That . . . makes sense, I guess, but – why would you be worried about that now? The only thing that’s changed is I don’t have my powers, so I thought that’s why you thought I couldn’t handle things anymore.”

“You don’t get it.” Once again, Barnaby felt the pent up emotion within him mounting back towards something resembling anger, then seeping out into his voice. “You never get it. How much people worry about you – not just this time, but every time! And not just me, but everyone else who loves you, damn it.”

Kotetsu’s expression flickered – once again serious, once again open, this time in a state of vulnerable shock. “. . . You . . . love me. . .?” He murmured.

“Of course I do, you idiot!” Barnaby’s voice hitched as angry tears sprung once more to his eyes. Not once did he stop to consider that it was the first time he’d said those words aloud, or why exactly it would matter. After all, he’d already said them thousands of times before in every other way possible, and would continue to do so as long as he was allowed. “So why the hell wouldn’t I be worried?”

Looking half frightened, half wounded, Kotetsu shrunk backwards and shrugged. “I dunno – I already knew I overreacted back there. There wasn’t any reason to take it as personally as I did – I know it’s not the end of the world that my powers are gone. I know how that makes things harder, now. So I shouldn’t have gotten so upset – I didn’t want to accidentally say or do anything that was going to upset you more, so I thought it would be best to go . . . sort myself out while I was embarrassed. It made sense that you were angry, you know – you don’t have to downplay it for my sake. I can’t defend myself as easily without them, so it really did make sense for you to get upset when –”

“Damn it, Kotetsu, you died in my arms when your power still lasted four minutes!”

The exclamation tore itself loudly from his throat as the first tears slipped free from his eyes. As Kotetsu froze, stunned into silence, Barnaby fought for breath. “Do you really think it makes a difference to me whether you have powers? I’ve worried every single time you were in danger, and I’ll keep doing it – I don’t care! You could wake up with the strength of L.L. Audun tomorrow and it wouldn’t make any difference to me at all. I still just – I can’t – I can’t . . .”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head, shoulders beginning to shake. “. . . I can’t lose you, damn it, and it’s come too close too many times. I’ve lost – too many people already – I’ve lost you before, and I just . . .”

“Hey – hey, whoa . . .” Kotetsu’s voice was gentle, soothing, when he spoke once more, and this time he didn’t stop himself from closing more of the rapidly shortening distance between them and reaching a hand out in Barnaby’s direction. “Jeez, I really am an idiot – I should have realized. . . You’re right, I should have thought about more than my own dumb issues . . .

“. . .Hey, it’s alright . . . come on. . . I’m so sorry, Bunny.”

That was it. That was all the permission he needed to fully allow himself to break. Whatever invisible wall had kept them separated for the past several moments was suddenly gone, suddenly broken, and Barnaby didn’t hesitate in the slightest as he raced forward and threw his arms around Kotetsu to draw him into a crushing embrace. Muffling hitching sobs into his shoulder, he held tightly – just as he’d longed to since the beginning of this awful night – and only melted into the embrace further when he felt his partner’s arms close around his own back.

“No . . . “ he insisted through tears, “I’m sorry – I’m so sorry –”

“Hey . . . shh. . .it’s alright. Everything’s alright . . .”

Pressed this close, he could feel Kotetsu’s heartbeat, and treasured every thump.

As he began to calm down, they eventually parted, tears drying and wiped away by two different sets of hands. Still pressed close together, they leaned side by side against the railing of the bridge, attention turned to the lights of Stern Bild as they shone against the black of night.

“Sorry . . .” Barnaby insisted again with a final sniffle, wiping at his eyes once more before settling his glasses back into place. “. . . I . . . overreacted, too. Back then, and . . . just now . . .”

“I already told you, there’s nothing to apologize for.” Though their shoulders were already touching, Kotetsu swayed in order to briefly bump them together. “And, uh – what do you even mean?”

“I mean that I’m not the only one who’s lost people. . .” Barnaby muttered, looking down to the water beneath him. “So it’s selfish to act like I am, and to let my emotions take control. And . . . I guess you’re right. To an extent. I really don’t think any less of you for not having powers anymore – if anything, you impress me more every single day, but –”

“Aww . . . Li’l Bunnyyy . . .”

“Watch it. I mean, I don’t see you in danger as often anymore, so I guess I’m . . . less used to dealing with it? So in a sense, it . . . affected me more, this time. And maybe . . . on some level. . . I am more worried about you, now. But I don’t know if that’s because of your powers, or because of how often I’ve almost lost you, or . . . any of the other stuff.”

“Maybe it’s all of that. I don’t know. . .” Kotetsu shrugged, not appearing particularly concerned. “If I’m honest with you, I still don’t really get it. How it could feel the same no matter what, I mean – or, different, but not different enough that you can really tell how. I don’t know. And, uh – real quick – you know I never actually died, right?”

Letting out a huff of surprised laughter, Barnaby rolled his eyes. “I know . . .” he mumbled, “but I didn’t know, then. For a little while, I lived in a world where you were no longer in it, so . . . I know what that feels like. And I never want to have to, again. Just think . . .”

The argument he had was foolproof and he knew it as he turned his head back in Kotetsu’s direction and met his eyes. “. . . How would you feel about any of this, if it were me?”

Kotetsu blinked. His mouth opened, then closed, then morphed into a wry smile. “. . .You got me there,” he said.

“I mean, just think about it,” Barnaby continued. “You don’t think any less of me for . . . my leg, right?”

“Of course not!”

“But you’ve still driven me insane more times than I can count worrying about it,” he continued with raised eyebrows. “It’s just . . . different.”

“Right . . .” Kotetsu agreed with a nod. “. . . Different.”

He paused, looking briefly back to the city, then down towards his own hands while picking at his nails. “And, uh – you’re right. You’re not the only one who’s lost someone,” he said quietly. “To tell you the truth, it scared the hell out of me – I mean, when I first started to realize how I felt about you. And even before, looking back on it. I couldn’t stand the thought of history repeating itself. . .”

“Kotetsu . . .” Resting a hand on his partner’s forearm, Barnaby attempted to convey that he didn’t have to go down this road if he wasn’t ready. All the things Kotetsu kept buried, all the grief he fought to hide. . .

It wasn’t hidden, even as Kotetsu smiled. This time, that smile was sad, and it was still Kotetsu’s. “. . .You scared the hell out of me, too, you know,” he admitted. “. . . In the hospital.”

The hospital –

They’d never had time to talk about it or truly process in the wake of all that happened. Fighting to get better, to get back to work, to beat the next big enemy . . .

It all managed to overshadow, at least in Barnaby’s eyes, how he’d managed to wind up back in the hospital with severe injuries barely any time at all after waking from a coma. What Kotetsu must have gone through in the time he’d been asleep, which was barely a blip in his own memory. . .

“. . . I’m sorry.”

“Would you stop that? It’s not your fault,” Kotetsu insisted with a shake of the head. “I’m just saying. And thinking. It’s . . . different. For me, I guess. See. . .”

Sighing, he scratched the back of his head, gaze turning briefly towards the stars. “. . . I still worry about you sometimes when we’re together. But if I’m there – if I’m with you – I can do something. If you’re in trouble, I can watch you get out of it, and if I’m lucky I can even do something to help. I can protect you, and see the ways that you protect yourself. So that’s not as scary. Not nearly as scary as . . . not knowing. Not being there. I’m more afraid of anything in the world that could happen in the time that we’re apart, so that’s what scares me. But for you, I think . . .”

“It’s different,” Barnaby finished with a nod of agreement. Moving down Kotetsu’s arm, he took his hand and turned it over, then traced along his palm for a moment before lacing their fingers together. “. . . I know things like that can happen, and it scares me, too . . . but I also know how quickly someone can be taken away, right before my eyes. The thought of seeing you in trouble and not being able to do anything about it destroys me. . . and it’s different when you’re fighting. But when someone . . . when they don’t play fair . . .

“. . . He could have cut you. It wouldn’t have taken much at all, and . . . just like that . . . you’d have been gone. Taken away forever, and there wouldn’t have been anything I could do . . .”

Kotetsu shuddered. “. . . Jeez. . .” he muttered, shuffling a bit in place. “It sounds much scarier when you put it like that than it was actually dealing with the guy.”

Letting out another quiet huff of a laugh, Barnaby touched his forehead to Kotetsu’s shoulder. “. . . Sorry,” he mumbled, “it’s all ok, now, though. . . I swear. It’s ok now that I can hold you.”

“Then I’m all yours to hold. And, uh, next time – if there is a next time –” he added after receiving a glare, “ – do so right away instead of yelling at me, ok?”

“. . . I think I can manage that. Sorry . . . ”

“Good! Then we’re on the same page. Oh, and, uh – one more thing, Bunny . . .”

“Mm?” Curious, he raised his head from Kotetsu’s shoulder.

“What do I gotta do to make you stop apologizing?”

Taken briefly aback, Barnaby blinked. Then, he smiled – genuine, not sad at all, and in fact just the slightest bit devilish.

“Well . . .” he said, then made a show of checking the time. “Valentine’s day isn’t over yet. I can think of a few things that might keep me busy.”

“Yeah?” Kotetsu laughed, goofy and regaining some of his typical jubilance. “Alright! Well, we probably missed our reservation at that restaurant, but I’m not sure you’d have liked it anyway since I got it last minute and they were the only place left with openings –”

“Kotetsu.”

“Anyway! Let’s say we start with this, huh?”

“You’re unbelievable.” Though he rolled his eyes, Barnaby met the kiss eagerly. It was a gentle pressing of lips that lingered for several moments, tasting of desperation and contentment in equal measure.

What was love, after all, if not both? Certainly not the sort of thing that could be captured by overpriced flowers, paper hearts, or chocolates that were better in theory than practice, and certainly not in the course of a single night dedicated to that love’s expression.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t give it their best attempt.