Work Text:
The smell and taste of iron hang in the air. For a fleeting moment, Chase allows himself the thought: In this, they are alike.
But then Gou hits the ground, and the gravity of the situation hits Chase harder. Mach has red stripes. Clean, bright red stripes. Gou's always been so proud of them, and their outlines are so blurry and wet now, and—
When Chase finds himself staring down the barrel of a Roidmude's weapon, he is calm. He can hear Gou gasping for breath and that means he's alive, and the best way to ensure he stays that way is to do what he's always done best. A thrust with the handle of the Signal Axe to send the other Roidmude staggering back, then a quick flick of the wrist and a twist of the shoulder to bring the blade down. He doesn't even need to press the button, doesn't need to wait for the light to turn green, sinking into a place he's been trying to avoid in order to protect the human hauling himself to his knees in the corner of his vision. A dark, cold place, the void of apathy, feeling nothing in particular about what it is he's doing.
He knows how to pull himself out now, and it gets easier with time. In this case, it has never been easier; Gou is still not back on his feet, and Chase feels something beginning to crawl up his throat as he kneels down next to him.
It takes Gou a few seconds to realize who it is, and he scowls as always, weakly swatting him away when Chase extends a hand. "Gou," he says tersely, "I know that we are not friends. However—"
"Glad you get it. Now buzz off already." Gou's voice is icy, and Chase can envision perfectly the sour expression behind his visor. "Or what, you couldn't resist another chance to show me up?"
Chase thinks that this is an uncharitable read of the situation, but experience has taught him that saying something about it won't help. In fact, historically the effect has been the opposite.
"No matter what I say, you will find an issue with it," Chase says. It's more for himself than for Gou, but he doesn't deny it.
"And here you are, still talking."
Gou has still not gotten up.
"Your legs are injured," Chase finally says. More of him than that is injured—he can see now that the splotches of blood marring Mach's stripes are the result of a deep cut in the suit's chest, so deep it cut down to Gou's skin. But he's moving his arms, using his torso to support himself, so although it seems like a bad injury, his legs must be worse off.
"Says who?" Gou snaps.
In response, Chase places a gentle hand on his shoulder. Gou twists away from him immediately, flailing with the intent to hit him.
But he still doesn't get up.
Chase stares pointedly down at Gou's legs until Gou wordlessly looks away. He can see himself reflected in the bright shiny blue of Mach's visor—to be more precise, he sees Kamen Rider Chaser reflected in it. "A Kamen Rider shouldn't lie about this," he finally says. "Allow me to assist in first aid procedures for your legs."
"I'd rather die right here," Gou spits, reflexively. "What's a Roidmude made to kill know about first aid, anyway?"
Gou is fond of this form of communication—pivoting to his status as a Roidmude at the first opportunity, as though it makes anything he says meaningless. Chase is less fond of it.
"It is as you say. For a time, I was reprogrammed to kill. However, that means I understand grave injuries."
Gou huffs wordlessly, and Chase grabs his helmet by the sides to wrench his gaze back over to him.
"Gou. Remove your armor."
Chase has no way of knowing if their eyes are meeting. He suspects they aren't. He can envision Gou's expression as vividly as if he were seeing it: eyes narrow, but wild with fury, lips tight and jaw set, stubborn and steadfast. "Like hell," Gou scoffs, and so Chase grabs for his belt, pulls out Signal Mach in one smooth motion, and tosses it into the air when Gou predictably grabs for it. Chase stands to catch it before it can fall into Gou's grip and stares coolly down at him as he watches the transformation come undone.
What greets him is not unexpected. Gou is in bad shape: a cut on his chest, which Chase already knew about. But the smell of iron is stronger now, and he can see blood soaking through the leg of Gou's pants. He's not sure what kind of injury is beneath it, and he knows he never will—Gou would never let him see it.
He fixes the Signal Bike in his hands with a look. "Find Kiriko and let her know what happened."
Signal Mach seems hesitant. Chase understands. It is concerned for Gou, and doesn't want to leave his side, especially when he's as hurt as he is. It's because he feels the same that he's making this selfish request.
"I will bring him back," he says, and Gou pounds the asphalt with his fist.
"No you won't," he spits. "I told you I'd rather die than—"
"If you die here," Chase interrupts, "then you will never be able to destroy me, or any of the other Roidmudes."
There's a long, tense silence.
Chase hates that this is what it takes. He hates that Gou only seems to respond to hostility and violence, when all he wants to do is help. He hates that he has had to learn these things.
But he hates the thought of Gou being in so much pain even more, and seeing him in this state only reinforces those feelings. All of the humans in his life are important to him, people that he cherishes beyond what he can put into words, and he meets Gou's gaze unwaveringly, even though he knows all he can see is the orange lenses of his helmet.
"Allow me to assist in first aid procedures for your legs," he repeats.
Gou's eyes dart away from him, for just a moment, before that hatred flickers back into them. Chase knows he's won the argument. Only then does he remove his own armor, standing stiffly above him, looking down at the human who has always looked down at him. There is no fulfillment in it. He doesn't understand what Gou gains from this sort of thing.
He kneels, as aware of Gou as Gou is of him, and reaches forward. "What happened?"
"He got my knees."
"With?" Chase prompts.
"Dunno what. He hit them, dumbass."
Chase ignores the overt attempt to pick a fight. "Understood." He gingerly touches Gou's thigh, and he doesn't wince or let Chase know that it hurts, but the Roidmude feels him twinge, and so nothing needs to be said. Gou is right in that he isn't knowledgeable about what exactly can be done to fix this, but if Gou is willing to subject himself to Mad Doctor—and he is, because a little pain has never stopped him—then all Chase has to do is get him there.
His eyes drift to some long, straight bits of pipe, remnants of the Roidmude they'd just destroyed, and he doesn't hesitate to pick them up. Gou seems to realize what he's doing at this point, his eyes turning cagey. "You're making a splint with that?"
"There is no other acceptable material. May I use your shirt to tie it?"
"My—" Gou sputters. "No?!"
"There is nothing else here that is suitable, and it is already in tatters. I am unsure I will be able to safely transport you if your leg is not stabilized."
"Transport me where?" Gou asks warily.
"The Drive Pit. I had assumed you would like to return to your activities as a Kamen Rider immediately, and that will necessitate help from Mad Doctor."
"What the hell," Gou mutters. "Don't act like you know me."
"Am I mistaken?"
Gou glares at him. "Fuck you. Do whatever you want! I don't care. If you try anything funny, I'll make you eat your own teeth."
"There is nothing humorous about this situation, and it would be inappropriate to attempt to inject humor into it," Chase says, reaching for Gou's shirt and ripping it open. Gou rolls his eyes.
He's quiet the entire time Chase sets up the splint, glaring at him like he's expecting a sudden attack any minute. He does not think he has done anything to warrant this kind of suspicion recently, but Gou, in a display of stubbornness, still refuses to accept him despite his best efforts. That isn't why Chase is helping him, of course, and it isn't what he seeks from whatever kind of relationship they have. Chase would help Gou, and will help Gou in the future, regardless of whether he receives thanks or praise—being someone's friend begins with liking them, and even if Gou will not reciprocate that desire for a relationship, Chase likes him all the same. The help is itself, the reward.
"What is it called," Chase says to pass the time as he lines the pipe up with Gou's leg, "when someone wishes to become friends, but is rebuffed?"
"What, trying to guilt me now?" Gou rolls his eyes. "You really are stupid."
Chase knows he isn't stupid. He decides to consult Kiriko about it later.
When he tears Gou's shirt into strips of cloth, he does it effortlessly, like it's paper, his strength as a Roidmude making any resistance the fibers might be able to offer a trivial matter. But he's gentler than he's had the opportunity to be in a long while when he sets the splint, because even though it has to be firm, and it has to hurt Gou a little to keep his leg straight by necessity, he wants it to be as painless as possible.
Fighting Roidmudes is an important part of his job as a Kamen Rider, but it's just one duty of many that all encompass what it means to help people. All of it is what he was made for, and it's a purpose he's proud to have. Gou seems lost in his own role, so dedicated to vengeance and violence that he's no longer staining himself with the blood of those he wants to hurt but his own, as well.
It is sometimes upsetting to watch.
He pulls the splint tight enough to keep Gou's leg from bending. When he swears at him, Chase is comforted by the fact that he isn't hurt badly enough to stop doing that.
"How is your other leg? Can you put weight on it?"
"Yeah," Gou responds. Sometimes humans will elaborate without being asked, but he never does, so Chase is always sure to ask for exactly the right information he needs.
He loops his arms underneath Gou's and helps him up, then wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close, tight up against his side. Gou squirms, but hisses in pain as his splinted leg wobbles, and he has no choice but to lean on him.
"I wouldn't do this for you, you know," Gou says eventually, after several minutes of slow, silent walking.
"I know."
"Then why are you—"
"Because it is the right thing to do," Chase says, "and because I care very much about your well-being."
"That!" Gou says, exasperated. "Why? Just give it up already, will you?"
"It is true that you have never once treated me with respect," Chase begins. He feels Gou flaring up for an argument, so he continues quickly, "But I do not believe that respect for someone is contingent on them returning it. I can learn much from you, as both a Kamen Rider and as a person." He already has: he has learned the ways in which it can be valuable to be stubborn, and has applied this to decent effect, including with Gou himself. He has learned about another way that people can care for one another after watching Gou protect Kiriko from both monsters and from information that he believes will harm her. He has learned about friendship, though not in the way that he had hoped.
Chase pauses for a moment in an attempt to try to give word to the rest of his thoughts, and Gou takes a labored step without realizing he's stopped. It takes every ounce of Chase's focus, bolstered by his superhuman reaction time, to keep them from falling to the floor in a heap when Gou inadvertently drags him forward, making him stumble. Gou's fingers sink into his jacket and pull, and he presses himself against Chase out of sheer instinct to keep himself from falling, though he realizes quickly what he's doing and jerks away from him. The warmth of him sticks to Chase for a few vivid seconds, seeping into his bolts and settling there before eventually fading away. The arm that Gou goes back to leaning on as they make their way back to the Drive Pit feels warm, too.
Once he has assisted Gou back into as comfortable a lean onto him as can be managed, Chase adds another thing that he's learned from him to the list, something that it hadn't occurred to him to consider until just now:
Men can also make his chest throb.