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“What room is he in??” Doors open with reckless abandon, banging closed harshly behind him.
Quicker than quick, a flash of lightning against the tile, blink and you miss it; Barnaby is already at the receptionist’s desk with his glassed green eyes blown wide, heavy breaths rattling his chest.
“I’m sorry…?” The receptionist hesitates, her fair face caught halfway between deer-in-the-headlights and confused.
“Kotetsu Kaburagi what room is he in??” Barnaby repeats, louder, voice echoing through the emergency room lobby.
Realization as to both who Barnaby is talking about and who Barnaby is, strikes the receptionist’s face just as a smack would. “O-Oh, yes, Mr. Kaburagi was just admitted to the ICU in the west wing—”
She doesn’t even get a chance to finish, Barnaby is already booking it towards the west wing of the hospital, sharp steps clacking sharp off the white-polished tiles. Heart in his throat, knives in his chest. Each quick step jostles his iron-hard stomach and even it threatens to curdle from fear and disbelief alone.
What had Kotetsu been thinking?? He hadn’t, of course. That’s always how he gets himself into these messes.
Still. This is one mess that’s turned catastrophic. Not only is Kotetsu himself a mess from his skirmish, but now worry bleeds through Barnaby’s pores like sweat and turns him into a mess from the inside-out. He’s nervous. He’s scared. He’s in shock. He’s angry. He’s tense. He’s shaken. He’s, he’s, he’s—
Barnaby shakes out his hands as though flicking water from them as he stops in front of the elevator, quickly pressing the button to take him up. It opens, much to his stressed delight, without delay and with no other passengers at the moment. The ICU is near the top floor. Having visited it and been admitted to it so much he has the floor level memorized. He steps in and pressed the circular button for the 8th floor.
As the doors slide close and comforting music begins to play through the speakers, Barnaby distracts his mind from the worsts and what if’s by counting precisely how many seconds it takes to pass each floor.
1…2…3… floor 2.
1…2…3… floor 3
Etc. Etc. Until 21 seconds have passed.
The moment, the second, the instant those metal doors slide open, Barnaby tears himself out of the elevator and down the hall, only stopping when he reaches the circles of desks, computers and charts making up the nurses’ office.
“Kotetsu Kaburagi, which room?” He asks before a nurse could even give him a greeting.
But seeing who stands there, knowing who is being asked for, the nurse doesn’t hesitate to relay the information. He points to his left, where in the cul-de-sac shaped layout of this floor Kotetsu will be. The privacy curtains are drawn closed and the door is shut, but it seems room 6 is the correct one.
“Thank you.”
Another bolt of lightning, Barnaby does not wait for a response. Sharp steps clacking off the tile once more, only slowing to a quiet stop when his hand connects to the handle.
A breath. A moment. Then he slides open the door and enters, closing it behind him softly. His eyes are pulled to a TV for a second, set at a low volume for background noise. Images from Hero TV play against the screen. He tears them away and forces himself to look ahead. Green eyes water instantly at the sight of his unconscious partner on that bed. Even though he’s been washed up and is dressed in the standard hospital gown, he still looks so broken.
Bandages adorn almost the entirety of his head, only his bangs and longer strands of hair poking out. Light cuts on his face, a patch over his right cheek. Hooked up to an IV, blood transfusion, and a ventilator under his nose. Tubes and wires snaking out of his left arm; plastic serpents. The other, the right, is wrapped tight and snug, swaddled in a sling against his chest; no doubt broken. Bruises litter almost every open patch of skin in varying shades of blue and black. He looks like he fell through the rockiest pits of hell and hit every cliffside on the way down.
Barnaby steps closer, pulling up the one guest chair with him, anchoring it right next to Kotetsu’s left side. His throat constricts, burns even, as he runs a hand across his partner’s forehead. Gently moving a few stray strands free from the bandage away from his closed, puffy eyes. The cardiac monitor is the only thing assuring him that Kotetsu is still here. Barnaby’s only aware he’s crying when his eyes blur fiercely and the familiar, heavy weight of tears crashes down his cheeks. Couldn’t hold it back forever.
“Kotetsu…” His voice so different than before. Where it has been sharp and snipped not 2 minutes ago, now it carries a softness soaked in the sorrow of rain; wet fleece wrapped around his throat to choke his sound.
“…Wild Tiger is holding up that building! Completely on his own!”
The sound of Hero TV fizzles in Barnaby’s ears. He doesn’t break eye contact from his partner. He doesn’t need to see the footage. He already knows what happened. Already knows what he’d see again even if he did look.
“Wild Tiger’s power only lasts him 1 minute, and if you recall before, he’s already used it!! He is holding up this crumbled piece of iron and concrete through his own sheer will!!”
And shortly after Mario, their announcer, says that, Kotetsu’s knees will buckle…
“What’s this?? Tiger is looking weak in the knees! He’s really struggling!”
…Then he’ll fall to his knees…
“Tiger has been brought down to his knees! Yet he still refuses to let go! This hero truly knows no bounds! He won’t stop at anything to protect the people, even if he puts his own body in harm’s way!!”
…Then the mother and son in danger will finally escape…
“He’s done it! He’s held up the building long enough for the trapped individuals to make it out to safety!”
…Then he’ll cry out…
“Rraaaaghhh!!”
…And then it will all come tumbling down.
“Tiger has collapsed!! The building he was once holding up is now crushing him!!”
Even though the program cuts abruptly to commercial after that, Barnaby knows what happens next. He reaches out and wraps his hands around Kotetsu’s, sniffling thick as the memory of seeing it happen right in front of him unfolds.
“KOTETSU!!!!” He hears his own voice scream.
“Barnaby, stop! It’s too dangerous!!” He feels Rock Bison’s arms wrapped around his chest, pinning him close. He holds his partner’s hand tighter as he swallows audibly.
“Let me go Bison!! I have to help him!!” He feels himself struggling against the Bull Tank of the West’s grip.
“You’ve already used up your 100 Power!! If you rush in now you’ll only make things worse!!” Bison’s grip felt so unrelenting.
“KOTETSU--!!”
“Kotetsu…”
He speaks softly as the memory of his scream echoes in his ears, dissonance that nearly makes him wince. He couldn’t do anything. He can’t do anything. The only thing he can do now is sit here and pray to the Goddess that his partner’s reckless kindness doesn’t cost him his life. With a choked sob, he lowers his head, pressing it down into the mattress right next to his chest. He still keeps a hold of his hand.
“I’m sorry, Kotetsu… I’m so sorry…” He whines, splintered voice muffled by the mattress and blankets. “I’m your partner… and I couldn’t even save you… I can’t… I can’t even protect you when you need me… I can’t even protect the one person that I- that I love more than anything…!”
So he cries.
And he cries.
Cries a little louder.
Hiccups and sniffs squeaking out when they can.
Then, a twitch. A twitch in his hand.
Swiftly, Barnaby’s head jolts up, lightning once more in his movements. There, with bloodshot yet open amber eyes, Kotetsu gazes at him. His lips faintly tremble as they fight there way into a crooked half-smirk.
“Good morning… lil’ Bunny…” His weary voice manages to croak.
At the greeting though, Barnaby can’t help but incredulously cry-laugh. “Good morning? Good morning?? That’s what you have to say to me after scaring me half to death?? Just good morning??” He presses his forehead against Kotetsu’s own, happy to feel an awake warmth beneath his skin.
“Isn’t that what people usually… say after they wake up?” Kotetsu can’t help but jest.
“After they go to bed Kotetsu! Not from blacking out due to a building collapsing on them!”
“Well then… how about this…” Slowly, snail’s pace, Kotetsu tilts his head back against the pillow, just far enough to not hurt himself and just far enough to press his lips against Barnaby’s forehead and he kisses softly with chapped lips. “…I’m sorry I scared you.”
“…It’s a start.” Barnaby exhales, sniffling back more moisture as his eyes flutter closed, focusing on feeling those lips against his forehead. A reminder. “You can make it up to me by making a full recovery.”
Kotetsu exhales a weary laugh from his nose. “I think… I can manage that.”
Barnaby kisses his forehead in exchange.