Archive of Our Own ^beta

One could always tell a genuine enchantress from an imposter. Their sense of irony was unmistakable.

It was, however, decidedly more difficult to tell an enchantress from a fatigued old woman that had collapsed in a snow drift.

Not that Sesshoumaru would have actually aided an enchantress; likely he would have given her a wide berth. Much wider than the one he had given the blasted creature when he thought she was merely an elderly woman – one he had simply walked past without a single break in his stride.

Should have killed her, he thought crossly hours later as he watched frost climbing over the pale skin of his hands, unnatural frost that spilled into the hot spring he'd halted at to bathe. Fur pelt and armour at his side, he knelt there a moment, both hands submerged in the steaming pool of water. It was excruciating, with his skin so chilled – a bone-deep cold that seemed to be spreading from his chest as though a chip of ice had been wedged inside.

Perhaps it was his heart, he reflected with absent amusement, remembering her damning words. It would do him well to remember this in future, he decided. Even a daiyoukai was not resistant to the old magic. Bespelled by a faerie. If anyone other than himself had witnessed the scene he might be tempted to be embarrassed.

However, embarrassment was the last thing on his mind when he lifted his hands from the water and watched the frost simply begin to dust his skin again, this time freezing the droplets of water that clung to his fingertips. This was no childish prank, the youkai lord observed, mouth thinning into a forbidding line. At the rate it was spreading, deepening into muscle, blood and bone. . .

Hours?

Minutes?

Until his body stiffened and froze. A living statue? Or a dead—

"Unacceptable," he growled, instinct pushing him to his feet. Jaken had to be informed before it took hold completely. And it would, for the price of a cold heart was steeper than Sesshoumaru had ever anticipated.

Abandoning his armour and pelt, he forced his freezing limbs into motion, shaking off the ice gathering in his clothing. Time was of the essence. Jaken and Rin were taking shelter from the approaching snowstorm in a cave to the far east, and he had not spoken of where he had travelled. He had assumed he had no need to do such things.

Foolishness.

Despite the crawling, numbing cold forcing an ache through his body, turning his breath colourless as the heat was drawn from his blood, Sesshoumaru managed to break into a dead run – if he had been human. But it was enough to carry him through the white-dusted forest, past startled wildlife that watched silently as the youkai lord flashed past, frost and ice glittering like diamonds as it fell from his hair.

He made it to the centre of an unnamed field before his legs completely froze.

Some unidentifiable emotion clutched at his throat as he stared down at his traitorous limbs, his golden eyes narrowed and jaw clenched tightly. Not only had the spell worked with impressive haste, he was now about to become the most powerful scarecrow in existence. If he had been a lesser creature Sesshoumaru would have sworn colourfully and with deep frustration. So deep that it felt a little like despair.

Defeated.

Not in the glorious heat of battle, as he'd always assumed. Defeated by a forest myth and his own selfish heart. It was almost poetic. Sesshoumaru could give credit where it was due, even despite the blistering agony that speared through his body as every part of it turned hard and cold and immobile. At least he would be remembered by someone who had looked upon him fondly. Circumstances could be worse.

It was as his eyes closed and every part of him went cold and dead and still, that Sesshoumaru had one single thought.

Perhaps this was how Inuyasha had felt.

"I'm picking up good vibraaaations," Kagome sang cheerfully, bobbing in time with whatever insane tune she'd come up with. It wouldn't be nearly so irritating if she wasn't doing it while clamped to Inuyasha's back like a bare-legged barnacle. "Hey Inuyasha, how much further is it? I'm going all blotchy from the cold."

Puffing out his cheeks in annoyance, he hefted her a little higher and picked up his pace slightly. "About another half hour till we reach the next village. Maybe you should have changed into the miko outfit when we passed through Kaede's village. It would have been a lot warmer."

The hanyou heard Kagome suck in a sharp breath, and he realised he'd said the wrong thing. Again. But she was riding on his back to escape the snow, so she couldn't very well 'sit' him, whether she wanted to or not. Inuyasha's mood lifted slightly, but he didn't attempt to carry the conversation further.

They hadn't seen Kikyou in weeks, and while Inuyasha was concerned from time to time, things had been quiet lately. Naraku was still out there, but seemed to have gone into hiding for the time being. Inuyasha was using that time to hunt the shards with the others, to try and get ahead of the bastard as best they could by the time he surfaced again.

That was what had led to them trekking through the snow as what weak light they had began to fade from the sky. It was going to start snowing again soon, he could feel it in his bones. Craning his neck, he glanced up to where Kirara was keeping pace in the sky, Sango and Miroku perched safely on her back with Shippou taking point on the fire cat's head.

"You lot see anything interesting ahead?" he called. "Take a look would you? Last thing I want to do is accidentally slide down a cliff trying to wade through this frigging snow." Watching them pick up speed and charge on ahead, Inuyasha felt Kagome's fingers clench a little tighter against his shoulders. In a voice meant only for her, he added softly, "and if I do I'm taking you with me."

"You wouldn't," she said firmly. "You'd find a way to save me, and die horribly in the process."

"The hell I would!" he protested. "I'd land on you so I didn't die is what I'd do."

Kagome laughed. "Then I'd—I'd shoot you with my bow on the way down!"

"You'd still die," he scoffed. "And your aim isn't that good."

They traded good-natured threats as they slowly made their way up a snow-covered hill; Inuyasha's feet working double-time to make sure they didn't both go tumbling backward when he slid occasionally. The imaginary cliff turned into an imaginary hill, and Kagome declared that if he broke his legs when they fell that she'd feed him ramen every day until he recovered. Inuyasha liked the sound of that.

Their banter was interrupted as they neared the top of the hill, and Kirara came racing back fast enough that they were nearly blown backward. Swearing loudly, Inuyasha barely had time to drop Kagome on her ass before he slid backward down the hill a few feet.

"Holy shitting hell, where's the damn fire—" the hanyou started sourly, until he got a good look at Sango's face. "Shit. What is it?"

Licking her lips, Sango's face creased into lines of sadness, even as Miroku reached down to lend Kagome a hand up. "Inuyasha. . .there's something you should prepare yourself for."

Kikyou.

She was dead, he thought numbly, as he stared up at the youkai exterminator. His brain stuttered. More dead. Fully dead. There was no one else he gave a shit about that could put that look on Sango's face as she faced him. He knew that look; he'd worn that expression himself more than a few times. It was the face of Bad News.

"Where," he said dully, not even a question. His eyes were dark as he met the pity in Sango's gaze.

"Down in the field," she said softly, and Miroku nodded silently behind her. "Just—in the middle. You'll see."

Setting his jaw and steeling his resolve, it still took him a moment or two to gather the courage to continue trudging the rest of the way up the hill, feeling Kagome hesitating behind him and not caring whether she followed or not. Leaving the decision up to her, he crested the hill and stared down into the snow-covered field on the other side.

His eyes widened slowly, until they were round pools of shock in a face drained of all colour. "Oh—"

It's not her-not-her-not-her-not-her—

Inuyasha bolted down the hill, long sleeves billowing as he raced and skidded dangerously on the steep curve, hardly caring as he streaked across the snow like a bright splash of blood—running towards him.

When he was within touching distance the hanyou came shuddering to a stop, breathing hard even though he wasn't anything close to tired. Inuyasha stared up at the statue in front of him.

"Sesshoumaru," he breathed, but the name came out ragged and half-undone with horror. "Sesshoumaru."

It was his youkai half brother. Not Kikyou. Not the miko he'd automatically assumed, because it couldn't be him. Because there wasn't a force in the universe that could kill Sesshoumaru. The big bad youkai lord that had looked down on him all his life. Who tried to kill him, steal from him, who insulted him at every turn and who'd never, ever allow himself to be taken down by anything.

But there he was. Standing there like he was asleep, his armour missing and frost making his skin shine almost luminously to the hanyou's eyes. Arms at his sides, shoulders back and spine straight, he looked like he was simply standing there.

With no movement.

No youki.

No breath.

No heartbeat.

And ice—all over him, covered in jewel-like shards of ice that clung to his hair, his clothes, his clawed fingertips. Sesshoumaru would never have put up with looking anything less than perfect.

The hanyou's fingers had twitched toward the lock of pale hair falling haphazardly over his brother's right shoulder when he heard the muffled creak of footsteps coming toward him through the snow. He didn't look back at Kagome as she caught up, swallowing hard as she caught her breath. Her socks were probably getting wet now, he thought distantly. His mind was searching for a distraction, something to drag him away from what stood before him in the darkening evening. It didn't want to acknowledge that his brother was a silent, lifeless statue in front of him.

Sesshoumaru was. . .he was dead.

"Oh, Inuyasha," was all Kagome could say, her voice small and sad. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" the hanyou found himself saying, his eyes on the indigo crescent moon on Sesshoumaru's forehead. "He was no brother to me."

Kagome hesitated at the emptiness in his voice. "But he was your brother," she replied weakly. Then when he didn't bother replying to that, she asked the obvious question. "Do you think it was Naraku?"

Inuyasha snorted rudely. "That asshole doesn't have the juice to mess Sesshoumaru up this bad. Kill him. Whatever. He just doesn't."

"But he's right in our path. . .like a message," Sango said, her voice subdued. Like Kagome, she was speaking quietly like they might wake the corpse. By contrast, Inuyasha's voice was almost painfully loud.

Painfully something, anyway.

"If Naraku really wanted to send me a message, he'd have—done something else," he finished weakly, his eyes sliding to Kagome almost guiltily. But her eyes were on his older brother, and she'd missed his slip completely.

"He's like an ice carving," she whispered, taking a step closer. "I never thought I'd be able to stand this close to him and still have all my fingers and toes. And you know, he doesn't look dead—y'know, not all blue and gross like frozen people dug out of the snow on those crime shows on television."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Miroku said calmly. "But really, Kagome-sama, you shouldn't get so close, we don't even know what did this yet. For all we know he's in full rigor mortis from. . .leprosy."

Sango laughed, then immediately slapped her hand over her mouth, contrite. But she did elbow the monk hard in the side and shake her head. Kagome, who was hopping from foot to foot, shivering, just stretched up toward Sesshoumaru's face and tilted her head as she stared curiously.

"Maybe it was like, an ice youkai or something," she mused, and glanced back over her shoulder. "Is there even such a thing?"

It was while Inuyasha was trying to process that question that she turned back to the youkai lord and pressed her fingertips against his pulse.

There was a flash of light, and Kagome screamed.

"Kagome!" Inuyasha yelled, reaching out and hauling her back from Sesshoumaru with brute force. "What? What happened? Are you okay?" When she didn't reply, he turned her over in his grasp. "Oh god. Kagome?"

There was a fine layer of frost over every inch of bare skin he could see, and she was shivering harder than anything he'd ever seen. "I'm—I'm—o-k-k-kay," she chattered, but her eyes were wide and panicked, and she was clutching her fingers to her chest protectively. Likewise, he did the same to her whole body, trying to get as much of his wide sleeves around her as he could. But he was damp and cold from the snow, and no real help at all. Turning, he passed her to Sango and pointed to Kirara.

"Get her to the village," he said sharply. His eyes switched to Miroku. "You go too. Make some shit up about ghosts, I don't know. But get her someplace warm, fast. I'll follow on foot and meet you there."

"But Inuyasha. . .are you just going to leave Sesshoumaru here like this?" Sango asked dubiously, carefully tucking a wildly shivering Kagome in front of her on the fire cat. There were shadows in her eyes, and really Inuyasha understood the parallel between them, though he could bet that Kohaku was a good kid when he wasn't being worked like a puppet. He couldn't say the same for his brother. Every cruel thing he'd done, he had done because it suited him.

"That bastard left me sealed to a tree for fifty years," he said flatly. "And this is a spell he's under—Kagome's snowman impression is proof of that. Let someone else free the ice queen. I really don't care."

Sango's mouth opened, but she wisely refrained from saying anything else. Unfairly, Kagome gave him a shaky middle finger, probably because she couldn't talk through her shivering. Bitch, he thought fondly, watching them take to the sky and lope in the direction of the village.

Inuyasha knew they probably thought he was a bit of a bastard for saying that, but they just didn't have a clue. Maybe Kagome did – she'd seen exactly how deep their family ties ran. Sesshoumaru wouldn't thank him for trying, or even succeeding, should something so impossible happen. And Sesshoumaru wasn't worth it. Not to him.

Besides, he thought as he started walking in the direction of the village, Sesshoumaru had his own people to help him. Maybe that bitchy little frog that followed him could do something useful with that staff of his and thaw him out. Bizarrely, the thought made him grin a little.

Come the next morning, Jaken probably would have found him and they'd be on their merry way again.

Still, as he walked away, the hanyou couldn't help but wonder if he was sleeping under that spell, as he had when Kikyou sealed him. Or was he awake inside his own skin, raging, unable to speak or move or glare. A prisoner inside his own body.

Hesitating, Inuyasha turned and gazed at him from the other side of the field. Trapped. . .and defenceless.

The snowball that struck Sesshoumaru in the back of the head was large, hard-packed and thrown with the hanyou's full strength. It completely exploded on impact, fanning the youkai lord's hair crazily in all directions before crumbling in a fine white shower across his clothes.

All the while, he made not even a breath of movement.

Inuyasha smiled widely and dusted off his hands.

"Seeya around, asshole."

He practically skipped to the village.

While Sesshoumaru hadn't anticipated the hanyou stumbling across him in his frozen state, the blunt refusal to aid him had been no great surprise. There was no love lost between them, after all.

The snowball, however, had been simply spiteful.

But the brief encounter had left him with a curious sense of loss, all the same. It had been approximately one month since the spell had completely taken hold, and not a single soul had chanced upon him. It seemed the frigid weather was keeping everything with moderate intelligence inside their homes. It also explained why Inuyasha was traipsing about in it.

Still, trapped in such a pitiful state in utter silence as he had been, even the arrival of the hanyou's ragtag friends had been a welcome interruption to the maddening quiet. One could only count the seconds for so long.

Inuyasha's reaction had been interesting, to say the least. His disbelief had been almost palpable. Why, Sesshoumaru was unsure. And if he was completely honest, the high regard Inuyasha had briefly displayed had warmed him, just a little.

Figuratively, of course. The ice that gripped his body was a sharp, merciless snare of pain and cold, as if winter itself had crawled inside his skin. Sesshoumaru decided he would get used to it, soon enough. He must; the spell was rejecting even the touch of another living being, if the human girl was any indication. He'd felt only the brief touch of warmth against his neck before the spell had lashed out at her. Nothing would attempt contact more than once, with such a powerful shock of cold being their only reward.

Not even Jaken. Likely the fool would catch his death if he tried, and Sesshoumaru was less than elated at the prospect anyway. No, it seemed no help was coming for him. No matter.

As the wind picked up and snow began whirling in the air, settling on his shoulders and clinging to his hair, Sesshoumaru realised something.

He had never freely given aid to a single creature in his life. He couldn't even say that Rin had been revived out of mercy. Tenseiga had simply demanded it. Knowing that his life had been one long lonely trail of selfish ambition, the youkai lord found he had no right to assume help would come.

Somewhere deep inside his frozen heart, he understood that he did not deserve it.

"Inuyasha, if you don't stop picking at that thread, I'm going to strip you naked and roll you out into the snow."

Looking up from where he was worrying the edge of the blanket the village headman had given him when he arrived, Inuyasha raised an eyebrow at Miroku, who was trying to get as close to the fire as possible without actually crawling into it. "That's a bit extreme," he decided. "Or do you just want to see me naked?"

Sango's face scrunched up in confused jealousy where she stood holding a blanket out on the other side of the fire, trying to warm it before she wrapped Kagome in it. She already had his kosode around her; the fire rat haori was still too damp for her so he'd kept it on for the sake of propriety more than warmth.

"I've already seen you naked," Miroku pointed out. "Too many times for my liking, actually."

"Gross," Kagome offered, but she sounded kind of blocked up and nasal. "Oh god, I hope I don't get sick from that stupid spell. What was I thinking, trying to touch him?"

"It was a rather silly thing to do with no protection," Miroku reflected. "You could be pregnant now."

Shippou spat out his soup and looked up at him in horror. "He can do that?"

Inuyasha found himself turning out their conversation, letting his mind wander. The village they'd stopped at was larger than average, and the headman had been kind enough to give a room to the monk that swore up and down that their village was cursed, and his strange servants. It rankled Inuyasha a little, but it had convinced the humans and got them shelter so he had no real quarrel with it.

The snowstorm he'd predicted had worsened and intensified into a blizzard, with everyone retreating indoors to wait it out. But stoking even the largest fire into a crackling blaze did precious little to warm everyone completely. The wind was howling to get inside, blowing drafts where it could and sneaking inside their clothing. Inuyasha was faring much better than most; he was only vaguely chilled in the single layer of clothes he wore, a thin blanket draped absently around his shoulders.

Sesshoumaru was probably doing a lot worse out there.

Annoyed with himself, he tried to focus on something else. But try as he might, his thoughts kept circling back to his half-brother. How had he gotten there? Had he fought? Did anyone actually know he was out there, besides himself?

Should he have tried to help?

Hell no, he thought crossly, shifting uncomfortably. What could I do, anyway? Only powerful shit could have snared Sesshoumaru.

This was all Sango's fault, he decided, and levelled his best pissed off glare at the girl. It probably would have had more effect if she hadn't been giggling with Kagome and miming giving birth. What she had implied had kind of struck home with him, even if he hadn't wanted to realise it. Even when they do stupid shit and treat you like dirt, weren't you supposed to help family? Just because? Honestly Inuyasha had no damned idea; he'd never had a family. There had just been his mother, for a little while. He'd have done anything for her. But that was different.

Sesshoumaru wasn't family. He was his half-brother, and someone he barely knew. There was a difference there, a huge chasm between Kohaku and Sesshoumaru. Sango was just seeing ghosts, and Inuyasha had no business playing into that.

Turning away from the group, he lay down on his side and decided to sleep. Anything to put those dumbass thoughts out of his head. He wasn't a hero, anyway. Certainly not Sesshoumaru's.

But it was as he began dozing off later on that his ears picked up the sleepy conversation between Sango and Kagome.

"You want to know a secret?" Kagome sounded strangely embarrassed. "He reminded me of a fairytale."

"Who, Sesshoumaru?"

"Uh-huh. The evil prince, put under a spell that can only be broken by true love's kiss. Or something!"

". . .you wanted to kiss Sesshoumaru?"

"Eww, no! I'm just saying. Jeez Sango, don't project your infatuation onto me. You're the one who wanted to save him."

"Because it's the right thing to do, that's all."

"Mmm, not to Inuyasha. Sesshoumaru isn't very nice—you've seen what he's like."

"A jerk to his little brother? Trying to steal his toys? Sounds pretty run of the mill to me."

"I don't know. I think Inuyasha is scared to be anything other than the big tough guy where his brother is concerned."

"So he isn't disappointed when it all goes south?"

"Maybe."

"So it's just hurt pride that stops him from helping? That's kind of petty."

"Shh, he'll hear you."

"Sorry. . ."

Inuyasha forced himself to stop listening then, feeling sharp and raw and very, very much awake. Part of him wanted to be furious that they'd even speculate on something like that, much less make him out to be the asshole in the equation. But another part that felt suspiciously like his conscience was telling him there was more than a little truth to what they'd been whispering about.

Inuyasha's eyes opened then, and he sighed heavily.

Fuck.

Sesshoumaru had been pondering the pros and cons of being completely covered in snow for the duration of the winter when he felt the curious sensation of being touched.

It was mere pressure, at first, of something touching the snow that had gathered all around him. Something pressing at his shoulder. Torn between alarm, affronted anger and hope, he waited, trying to discern who it might be. So far all he could register inside the effects of the spell was touch, and temperature. Which he supposed was only to be expected – it would have been a terrible spell otherwise. He could also hear. Two of his five senses survived. How vexing, as they didn't tell him much about his visitor at all.

The hands continued, purposely avoiding his face and any exposed skin. Wary of the backlash of the spell? Perhaps. Suspicion rose in him.

The brush of something rough against his cheeks startled him then, and he felt cloth wiping away the snow that had gathered and caught in his eyelashes. Clever, he thought reluctantly. This person knew what they were doing. Why, was the most pressing question. Sheer curiosity? Robbery? His swords were still in place as his side, last he could recall. They would trade quite well if this mystery person had brains enough to know what they were.

The tending to continued until it felt like all the snow was gone from him, even brushing at his feet as though digging around him. How oddly considerate. His feet had been throbbing with the agony of being encased in not only the ice of the spell but the snow that had risen to his knees over the course of the blizzard. Fractionally, Sesshoumaru began to suspect this person did not hold any ill intentions toward him.

Finally the attention completely ceased, and he felt the electric sensation of eyes roving over his face. Breath gusted across his chin and throat, shockingly warm after nothing but cold all this time. Almost hot. Has Sesshoumaru been able to move even a little, it would have been toward that impossible heat. He craved it like nothing he'd ever wanted in his long life. Something so simple, and he would have handed his swords over willingly for it. Just. . .warmth. Contact.

"What the hell do I do now?" Inuyasha asked pointlessly, and Sesshoumaru's reality shattered around him.

Inuyasha?

Was it possible to go insane after only a month of inertia? It would certainly explain his hallucination that his hanyou half-brother had returned to aid him. But even as he speculated on it, he knew that what was happening was very real. What he couldn't understand was why.

Almost as though he could sense the question, Inuyasha began to speak, his voice never more welcome to Sesshoumaru's ears.

"That spell iced Kagome up pretty good, and now she's sick. Miroku's spinning bullshit so we can stay for another week or so," the hanyou said slowly, something fumbling and awkward brimming beneath his usual brash tone. "The village is fucking boring, and the assholes keep staring at my ears. Figured I'd come out here and see if someone had freed your ass yet."

Footsteps then, and movement that circled him once and came to a stop in front of him.

"It would be pretty easy to dig a hole and bury you in it. Couldn't break the spell then, right? Buried alive and unable to even move. . ." the hanyou hissed in a pitying breath. "Definitely not a good way to spend however many centuries you have left."

Ah.

Of course, Sesshoumaru thought distantly. It was not aid Inuyasha had come to offer. Why he had assumed otherwise for even the briefest of moments he couldn't understand. Desperation, perhaps. But any softness in Inuyasha was reserved for humans, not youkai brothers who had attempted on more than one occasion to kill him. This too, he expected he deserved. Sesshoumaru had never attempted to foster any kind of friendship with the hanyou. If anyone had the right to revenge, to capitalise upon this entire damnable situation, it was Inuyasha.

To be tucked away beneath the earth, sealed in a grip of a spell that would encase him in ice forevermore—

Heat.

Fingers. Hands. Bare skin—

"Huh, guess this shitty spell doesn't react against me," Inuyasha discovered, his voice startled. "I wonder why."

Sesshoumaru didn't care why; his entire existence had narrowed down to the glorious sensation of a palm pressed to the side of his neck; a scalding handprint that reminded the youkai lord of everything bright and hot and vital in the world that had discarded him in the snow. Sunshine, firelight, the insulating warmth of his fur when he transformed. The buzzing heat of summer. Heartbeats. All of it trapped in the guileless press of skin against skin; simple contact that he hadn't experienced in a painfully long time.

It was gone too soon, leaving him feeling even colder than before. Bereft, he tried to brand the moment into his memory. For all he knew it could be the last time anything living laid a hand to him.

"I don't know if you can even hear me," Inuyasha said suddenly, sounding downtrodden. "Probably not. Maybe you're dead inside this spell."

I'm alive, Sesshoumaru thundered silently, where his thoughts echoed inside his own mind. I hear you, I hear everything. Free me. Free me, Inuyasha.

"Not that it matters I guess," the hanyou decided, his voice flowing into brisk, controlled tones. "I haven't got a clue about how to break the spell. Looks like you're boned."

Then, to Sesshoumaru's outrage and despair, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Footsteps, walking away.

Don't abandon me. The thought was pure need, instinctive and unashamed in its plea. But no one could hear him. He was silence and ice and terrible, lonesome solitude.

When the footsteps completely faded there was dead silence in the field.

Inside Sesshoumaru's mind there was a howling that would not stop.

Well it hadn't been a total bust, Inuyasha thought as he trudged back to the village. He'd discovered that for whatever reason the spell Sesshoumaru was under didn't lash out at him. He just didn't have the faintest idea why.

What Inuyasha also didn't know was why he'd reached out and touched Sesshoumaru in the first place. Morbid curiosity, maybe. But laying his hand against his neck like that, disturbing the white glaze of frost and melting it with his natural warmth—there had been something frightening and eerie there. The lack of a pulse in his neck, the dead cold sensation of his too-hard flesh. . .it was jarring, and wrong. It was his first wake-up call that something bad had really happened to Sesshoumaru. He wasn't asleep; he was cursed, and no help was coming for him. No one even knew he was there, except a hanyou that had more reason than most to keep walking by. And yet. . .

Leaving his brother there, silent and alone, caught in the snare of a spell like any kind of pathetic animal in a hunting trap had been strangely hard. If nothing else, Inuyasha respected Sesshoumaru's strength. Seeing him defeated and vulnerable like that, where just anyone could walk up and skewer him—it all just felt wrong. Something had to be done.

Resolving to think up some decent spell-breaking ideas and return the next day, the hanyou picked up the pace, his mind racing.

One way or another, this spell was going down.

"Uproot him and plunge him into some hot water?" Miroku suggested, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Maybe something slower that won't send him into shock," Sango said dryly. "Body heat usually works best there."

"Well, I say go ahead and kiss him," Kagome said seriously, then loudly blew her nose. Everyone stared at her while Shippou took the opportunity to haul Kirara up under one arm and grimly march out of the room.

Kagome just sniffled messily and shrugged. "What? Magical spell, magical cure! Inuyasha's the only one who can touch him!"

Miroku looked like he was coming to terms with the sudden mental image. Like everyone else in the room. Inuyasha just shifted uncomfortably.

"Let's save that idea for absolute last," Sango decided judiciously, scrawling everything down on one of Kagome's writing pads. "And Kagome, I want your word that if Inuyasha is forced to use it, you won't treat him badly."

Kagome flopped down on her futon and rolled her eyes. "It's not cheating if it's a guy," she said, like it was obvious. "And it's for a good cause. I touched Kikyou's boob once to save her life."

Miroku and Inuyasha's eyes got big. "You—"

Kagome laughed painfully before coughing, automatically reaching for her medicine. "I'm just using it as an example. Sometimes helping someone means also unintentionally molesting them while they can't move."

"Back on track," Sango said with high amusement, before either monk or hanyou could begin organising their horny thoughts into proper questions. "Come on, more ideas please! Poor Sesshoumaru is out there in the dark, alone, freezing—"

"I know that," Inuyasha said crossly. "God why don't you just marry him already?"

"Maybe I will," Sango said serenely, to Miroku's brief alarm. "As soon as he gets a personality transplant."

Kagome wrinkled her nose thoughtfully. "I don't know, he's got that aloof, hoity-toity appeal going for him. If I'd met him before I met Inuyasha I'd probably be like that green guy that always followed him around, with little love hearts in my eyes." Uncapping her cough mixture, she took a long swig. "He's kind of hot."

Inuyasha's jaw dropped. "You can't say that!"

"Why not?" she demanded. "You're always 'ooh, Kikyou, you hate me and stuff but I still think you're a spunk' so why can't I voice an opinion on your brother?" The question was fair, if a little blunt to be coming out of Kagome's pretty mouth. Before the hanyou could respond, Miroku leaned over and peered at the bottle of medicine.

"Ah. Kagome-sama, by any chance is there alcohol in this mixture you've been drinking all night?"

The way she clutched the bottle possessively to her chest was answer enough.

"Okay, and everything Kagome has said tonight is hereby stricken from the record," Sango murmured to herself, scribbling big lines through her list. "On account of being under the influence."

They brainstormed for as long as they could, but the later it got the more far-fetched their ideas became. When Miroku began suggesting counteracting the spell with Kagome's sacred arrows, they decided to call it a night. They started to bed down, with the girls and Shippou huddling together for warmth. Miroku followed soon after but it was Inuyasha who stayed up late into the night, his eyes on the smouldering embers of the dying fire, lost in memory.

Sesshoumaru had never been anything but an enemy to him. Not by his choice, but he'd resolved long ago to give as good as he got. Inuyasha had long since made his peace with the fact that the only time his brother would turn his attention to him would be when he wanted something he possessed. Information, the Tetsusaiga, the black pearl in his eye that had opened the gate to his father's tomb. It was always something, and Sesshoumaru had never hesitated to beat, use and manipulate him to get it.

Inuyasha had been sliced, burned, jeered at, impaled, whipped, choked—the list could go on forever. Sesshoumaru had done nothing for him. Not once. Ever.

So why was he wasting his time helping him?

Why did it matter that he was out there in the dark? It shouldn't. It shouldn't.

But it did.

Inuyasha was not soft-hearted. Not really. After years of fending for himself, of having to kill to survive; he'd never have lived so long if he felt mercy for every single thing that crossed his path. There was no logical reason, no deep-seated instinct to help the needy inside him, no it's the right thing to do mentality driving his actions.

Or hope. There was no hope that if he broke the spell, things would change. That had been given up on long ago. Sesshoumaru wouldn't open his eyes and declare that he'd been wrong all this time. Wouldn't thank him, certainly.

But still, despite all the arguments stacked up in favour of leaving him to rot, he just couldn't do it now. Not when his palm still remembered the icy burn of his cold skin, the snowflakes gathering in his eyelashes, his slightly lowered head. Because he'd never seen Sesshoumaru look like that. Humbled. Touched by the elements—touched by something. Because he'd always been powerful, disdainful, remote. Oddly he seemed more real when he was frozen, and to all appearances, dead.

Maybe Sesshoumaru would still hate him. Maybe he would try to kill him the moment the spell broke. But Inuyasha had fought him before – that wasn't anything new to him. The best he could hope for was that he'd have something to rub in the bastard's face when everything was said and done.

Which, while petty and small and all those things Sango had whispered about to Kagome, was what was going to get the job done. There had to be some perks to what was going to be a really awkward session of trial-and-error until he broke the spell. Inuyasha wasn't a goddamn saint.

Satisfied with this justification, or as okay with it as he was ever going to be, Inuyasha scooted back from the fire and bedded down on his side, using himself to block the worst of the draft from the others. Tucking Tetsusaiga carefully against his flank, the hanyou closed his eyes.

Something told him he was going to need his energy in the morning.

This time, Sesshoumaru was considering the most effective way to extinguish his own life force when the creak of feet moving through the snow reached his icy ears.

Again, treacherously, relief and hope reared up inside him, that perhaps this time someone might aid him. Even if it was only to break his icy body upon the snow and end this insufferable torture. It wasn't an ideal solution to his problems, being death after all, but the youkai lord's body was a solid statue of agony and ice, and nothing could break his spell. Spending an eternity trapped inside his own frozen skin was not a desirable option, and Sesshoumaru refused to endure the hopelessness and desolation any longer than was strictly necessary.

After all, the only being that had even a breath of a chance at breaking the spell was Inuyasha, and his hanyou brother didn't have the will nor the reason to try. Selfishly, Sesshoumaru suddenly regretted being so harsh with him. He certainly hadn't needed to attack him so many times in the past. But no matter. What was done was done, and he had never been very good at expressing remorse.

He listened to the footsteps, heard them halt some distance away. Was this stranger alarmed at the sight before him? It had snowed overnight again, but not as heavily as the night before, and Inuyasha's ministrations had ensured he wasn't steeped to the knees in snow again from what he could surmise. The snow wasn't nearly enough to mask his enchanted form.

His thoughts were dashed out of his head the instant a snowball slammed punishingly into the back of his skull.

"You know, it'd almost be worth leaving you here all winter first, just for the target practice," Inuyasha said wickedly, his hasty footfalls darting across the snow toward Sesshoumaru. "But apparently I'm Buddha now, and therefore full of peace and love. It'd sure explain why I'm gonna bust your pale ass out of this stupid spell."

Stunned. It was the only word that even faintly touched upon the throat-tightening emotion that, had it still been beating, would have surely stopped his heart in his chest. Inuyasha had returned. . .

Unnoticed by either of them, the icicles clinging to Sesshoumaru's clawed fingertips began to drip.

"I'm taking this moment to say in advance that I still think you're a repressed psychotic asshole, and that furry thing you wander around with makes you look like a woman. You're also a dirty thief, and you never even needed my sword. So." Inuyasha circled around his snow-covered body once, and Sesshoumaru imagined his eyes were glinting appraisingly. "I'm gonna get you out, and in return you just. . .disappear. I don't ever wanna see you again. Considering how bad you hate me, I'm figuring even you can manage that much."

Tremendously generous of the hanyou, Sesshoumaru thought, to simply ask for his complete departure from any corner of Inuyasha's life. Yet all the same, the request stung. Didn't the hanyou realise that for what he was promising to do, Sesshoumaru would have willingly handed over whatever Inuyasha desired?

And this was what he asked for?

Perhaps it was all his heart did desire, the youkai lord considered. So be it. Sesshoumaru had honour enough that he would do as Inuyasha wished, once the spell was broken. If, his pragmatic nature insisted in the back of his mind, but if there was one thing he knew about his half-brother it was that Inuyasha always got his way in the end. He was that kind of hard-headed fool.

"Worst things first," Inuyasha muttered bracingly, and then a scalding heat touched Sesshoumaru's mouth.

At first the youkai lord could only focus on the blazing heat as it centred on his lips, spreading out into his cheeks and chin like a flame thawing the ice. Then he registered softness, and a moist gust of warm air from—

That insane hanyou was kissing him.

"Nnngrff," Inuyasha said intelligently as he tried to detach his mouth from Sesshoumaru's, and found it fused by the dry icy burn of his skin. "Fffffrrkinellll." Bracing palms placed their hot brand on his shoulders as the imbecile wrenched back a little, and yelped immediately in pain, still stuck.

Ridiculous fool, the daiyoukai thought, but his air of offended dignity was threatened by a startlingly warm burst of amused affection. Only Inuyasha could manage to painfully stick himself to his enemy's mouth whilst attempting to break a spell to save their life. Idiot.

Sesshoumaru thought he maybe rather violently loved him for that.

He got himself free eventually, after a rather unsettling round of licking that would have sent an unbecoming flush to the youkai lord's cheeks, were his blood not frozen in his veins. The eventual rush of cold air on his lips and hard impact in the snow at his feet as Inuyasha fell on his rump were both painfully welcome and abhorred in tandem, but Sesshoumaru pushed it aside as, of all things the hanyou started laughing. No mere chuckle, either. The fool was practically crying with genuine, belly-deep laughter.

"Fucking Kagome, I'm gonna belt that bitch's head on a tree when I see her next," he eventually managed as he caught his breath, still wheezing a little. "Magical cure my ass. My goddamn mouth will never be the same."

Listening as the hanyou brushed himself off, muttering all the while, Sesshoumaru distantly wondered if he'd ever in over two hundred years heard Inuyasha laugh quite like that in his presence. It left him with a strange sense of discovery. Had he ever simply listened, before?

No. No, of course he hadn't. Because conquest and power and blind hatred and pride and—useless things, all of them, had filled up his senses until he could hardly breathe for the clutter of it all, dragged along in his wake. When a simple spell could cut him down, what use had it all been, really? Was he any better for it? Sesshoumaru didn't know, but the longer he stood still and cold, thinking for perhaps the first time since time out of mind he wondered what it had all been for.

"There's always a way to break these things, right? I mean, there's no such thing as a spell that can't be broken," Inuyasha mused, but he didn't sound entirely confident. Footsteps in front of him suggested Inuyasha was pacing, breath leaving him in a frustrated rush.

"But what gets the jump on you though? I mean, all of our bullshit aside, I never once underestimated how damn strong you were. But here you are, big scary Sesshoumaru, frozen in a field like a giant fucking snowman with fangs. Whatever did this – I, shit, I don't know if I want to shake their hand or tear out their throat. And why would I want to attack them? Why the hell is this driving me nuts?"

The footsteps paused in front of him then, and Sesshoumaru wondered for one horrible moment if Inuyasha was going to change his mind about freeing him. It can't have been. . .easy. . .for the hanyou to come to the conclusion that he wanted to help his cruel older brother. Mayhap he could talk himself out of it easily. There was little to be gained, after all.

But then the brush of fingertips touched his eyelids carefully, stroking over the delicate skin—over his markings? Whatever the intent behind it, the contact of warm skin on his briefly melted the frost clinging to his eyelashes, sending the liquid streaking down his cheeks until it froze again. The gust of a disappointed sigh across his mouth and throat was searing and wonderful at once.

"You just keep freezing up again," the hanyou said, his voice strangely choked. "I can touch you, but I can't fix you. What's the fucking point? Whose sick joke is this?"

Sesshoumaru felt the strangest urge to tell him it was all right. Perhaps it was enough to simply learn that Inuyasha - abused, ignored, mistreated Inuyasha - would still help him despite everything. That someone could still care, after seeing the absolute worst in him. After experiencing it.

The sharp crack of sound scared them both. Swearing, Inuyasha leapt back from him in a cold rush, and then Sesshoumaru felt. . .lighter. Had he broken? Had his frozen body fractured at last? Nothing felt broken—

"Oh my god," Inuyasha said starkly. "The ice fell off. What the fucking fuck, the ice fell off your back. Sesshoumaru? Hey, hey, can you move? Can you hear me?" The words were followed by the press of hands everywhere they could touch him through the ice crusting his body, but especially on his back. He felt the long weight of his hair sloughed off it and pushed over his shoulder, and then bright-hot palms scored the over-sensitive skin of his back and shoulders, drawing blazing red trails in Sesshoumaru's mind.

"You're still cold, but the frosty shit is gone," Inuyasha said, sounding almost breathless. Then to Sesshoumaru's utter bewilderment, Inuyasha leaned on him and released a shaky sigh. "Okay. Okay. I can do this," came the muffled self-encouragement, spoken into the skin between his shoulder-blades.

While it was shockingly gratifying to hear the hanyou so moved by his meagre freedom, the heat of him so close was what Sesshoumaru really cared about. As cold as he was, Inuyasha was a living furnace of heat and life, and for all the world just then the only thing Sesshoumaru wanted to do was turn around and greedily leech every last hint of warmth from him; to fold himself around the hanyou like he was a great glowing coal of living warmth, drag him close against his skin until he could no longer distinguish the difference between them. To simply soak him in, drink him down, to devour everything bright and hot and primal about him. The instinct was perplexing and ordinarily he would recoil from such thoughts, but the circumstances called for the suspension of all disbelief, all ordinary reaction or thought. So he allowed himself to imagine what the sensation would be like. . .of thawing, of standing there with wet skin instead of ice—

At his back, Inuyasha went abruptly rigid. Then ten stinging points of pain signalled claws piercing his skin, and the hanyou made a guttural sound of fierce anger.

"Well, isn't this a pretty little picture," said Naraku. "The daiyoukai prince himself, all wrapped up in a pretty little spell." His laugh was deep and cruel, and Sesshoumaru seethed inside his skin.

The dark hanyou had found him. To kill him, absorb him, torture him – it mattered not. The weight of life and death had become small in Sesshoumaru's eyes. The spell would protect him well enough, besides. But Inuyasha—

Inuyasha was snarling. Rough, guttural, threat-tearing snarls of something that should have hackles and teeth bared—not a concerned hanyou with warm hands and a laugh that surprised him. His hanyou brother was going to defendhim.

His hanyou brother was going to die.

"Oh come now, Inuyasha, just vanish from here. I have no quarrel with you right now. I want him. The magnificent Sesshoumaru-sama will make a perfect addition to my—"

"You're not getting him, so fuck off."

Naraku made a low sound of curiosity, and the sound of a footstep heavier than Inuyasha's came forward. Then there was a confusing brush of cloth and hair against his chest, and Sesshoumaru realised Inuyasha had positioned himself in front of him. Like a shield, his mind supplied. Something tense and hot writhed inside him at the mental image. This wasn't—right. He hadn't earned this. Freely given help was one thing. This. . .

"I'm doing you a favour, and you refuse me?" Naraku asked, his voice rolling in low, pleasant tones. "He is your enemy as much as he is mine. And the enemy of my enemy. . ." The words hung meaningfully between them. "He will continue to seek your death if he gets free, Inuyasha. You know this."

The low song of Tetsusaiga sliding free was the only reply Inuyasha gave. The sigh Naraku released was patient, even kindly.

"What about a trade, then?"

Against his chest, Inuyasha's back tensed. "What the hell could you offer me, you sonofabitch, that I'd hand over the only family I've got left?"

The rustle of cloth and uneven breathing was the only sound Sesshoumaru could discern for a moment. Then something clinked gently, the sound almost crystalline.

"What if I give you these?" Naraku offered genially. "I hear you've been braving the winter, looking for them. I'll have them back from you eventually, but take them, Inuyasha. See if you can keep them."

Sesshoumaru realised exactly what that cold crystalline sound was the second Inuyasha sucked in a covetous breath of air. Shards of the Shikon jewel. From the sound of them. . .perhaps three. Perhaps more.

Inuyasha could not turn down such a generous offer. It would be madness. Worse, Naraku would attack if he refused. The idea of that caused something to tense inside him, poised and strained and desperate. This could not happen. Take the offer, Sesshoumaru willed him silently. I will be fine.

"What do you want him for?" Inuyasha asked eventually, his voice unsteady. "I—you know what? No. I don't even wanna know. You're not getting him, but I'll be taking those shards off your hands just the same."

Naraku sighed. "So predictable, Inuyasha. But they do say pathetic loyalty is a dog's most admired trait. I suppose you'll be pleased to die because of yours."

The buzzing hum of insects and other airborne youkai filled Sesshoumaru's hearing then, and he imagined Naraku's hoards blackening the sky. Rage trembled at the edges of his awareness, black and red inside his mind. That aberration of nature was going to kill his imbecile of a brother right in front of him, all because Inuyasha hadn't a brain inside his foolish head. Because he couldn't hand Sesshoumaru over, not even for three shards of the jewel that had become the centre of Inuyasha's life. For a loyalty he hadn't earned.

He felt Inuyasha take a bracing breath that didn't come out entirely steady.

"Kaze no Kizu!"

The world dissolved into cacophony.

It was a kugutsu, Inuyasha thought fiercely, watching tentacles like tree roots explode out from under the baboon pelt. Kugutsu he could kill. But a kugutsu powered by three shards and a sky full of foul youkai was going to make him sweat.

Going to make him bleed.

But whatever else, he wasn't handing Sesshoumaru over for a bunch of fucking shards. Not when the cost of them was something like that. Inuyasha wasn't a moron – that kind of filthy sacrifice would just blacken the shards. Kagome might purify them, but what about Inuyasha? Carrying that sin with him, hell no. And Inuyasha would sooner fall on his sword than give Naraku something he actually wanted.

But he was grossly outnumbered, and no help was coming. He was just going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.

Cut the head off the snake, Inuyasha thought fiercely, his eyes on Naraku's puppet. Ripping Tetsusaiga's sheath from his waistband he slipped it into Sesshoumaru's, right beside Tenseiga. It might do something; it might not. He hoped it did.

Then, flipping the sword in his grasp, Inuyasha raced toward his laughing foe.

The world became a mess for a while. Great claws of youki rent the snow-covered earth, tentacle-like appendages stabbing and sliding, trying to find purchase in his clothes, his hair, his body. Snarling, Inuyasha fought them off, slicing and firing one Kaze no Kizu after another until his palms burned with the friction, the furred hilt smoking and acrid in his nostrils. When he saw the hoards descend toward Sesshoumaru he unleashed an enormous Kongousouha that broke his voice in his throat – sacrificing the curve of his shoulder as something stabbed sharply into it.

Breaking away with a yelp, Inuyasha leapt through the air, twisting and landing on his back in time to slice off the pursuing tentacles even as he slid backwards towards Sesshoumaru's frozen body. Blood trailed behind him in a thin streak – nothing serious, he thought, shoving himself to his feet. Too low, missed the veins. Back-to-chest with his brother again, breathing hard, he switched his grip on Tetsusaiga and surveyed the mess around him. His shoulder throbbed in time to the pounding of his heart.

Most of the youkai were gone. There had been close to five hundred from what he could guess, but luckily one thing Kongousouha was good at was spraying shitloads of pointy things into the sky. The field was littered with the impaled bodies of dying low-class youkai.

Naraku's kugutsu was damaged but still standing, despite a good quarter of its body being blown away by a particularly large Kaze no Kizu. The damn thing couldn't feel pain though, and without the amulet of the kugutsu's power being severed, it would keep standing.

"You know," it said casually, "it is my untested theory that killing Sesshoumaru might actually hurt you more than this nonsense. And I really don't need him that badly. Not when I could deal you a terrible blow, Inuyasha." The branch-like appendages began to sprout anew from beneath the pelt, lifting the puppet high overhead.

"You really shouldn't have been so obvious," it said, chuckling. "I wonder if you can save him and yourself?"

The seething mass of tentacles went rigid and spear-like, pointing directly at them both. Inuyasha lifted his sword—

The kugutsu fired them straight at Sesshoumaru's face.

"Don't shatter," Inuyasha hissed desperately, and threw himself backwards into his frozen brother, sending them both hard to the ground. The spears missed the back of his head by inches and kept going. Inuyasha just pushed himself upright, checking quickly to make sure he hadn't left Sesshoumaru's feet back where he'd been standing. He was whole. Soaking wet, but whole.

Then he realised what he was seeing.

"You're melting," Inuyasha whispered, eyes wide. Sesshoumaru wasn't moving but he was melting; the spell was breaking. Just a little more; he had to buy a little more time for him.

"The ice is melting? What a shame," Naraku's kugutsu tutted, and reared up to strike out again.

"Oh no you don't," Inuyasha snarled, whirling on instinct alone. He stabbed his claws into the wound on his shoulder. "Hijin Ketsuou!"

Youki-charged arcs of blood flew straight for the legs of the thing, slicing through them with sickening ease. But it cost Inuyasha; blood began pouring steadily from his shoulder. Ignoring it, he raised Tetsusaiga high overhead, ready to slam it down and end everything—

"Too slow!" it cackled triumphantly, and then the spears shot out straight for his unprotected stomach—

—and a lash of acid green youki wrapped around the spears, dragging them to the snow before they could touch him.

Inuyasha attacked.

His battle cry was swallowed up in the golden light that clawed its way out of his sword, utterly destroying the field. Trees and snow threw themselves into the sky, the dying youkai were obliterated in one long scream, and between one flicker and the next the roaring puppet dissolved into the barrage of power.

Everything was gone in seconds.

After, there was just silence.

When the spots in Inuyasha's gaze cleared, he took a bracing step backward and turned to Sesshoumaru, breathing hard.

"Well, that was—" Whatever smartass comment he'd been about to utter was silenced as he got a good look at his brother. "Oh you've got to be shitting me."

The spell was broken, all right, leaving Sesshoumaru saturated to the skin, blue-white, and wracked with violent shivers. Ice still clung to his hair and his right arm was still rigid and straight – frozen. And he'd still managed to use that youki whip of his, even in that state. Inuyasha whistled low. That was more like the Sesshoumaru he knew.

He was sitting up, albeit barely, and his eyes were open even if they didn't look like they were seeing much. It was too far to get him to the village. If Inuyasha left him like he was. . .would he survive? Probably not. He needed dry shelter and a fire at the very least. Had he passed a cave? There were caves everywhere when he didn't want them, so where the fuck were they now?

"Right, stay here for a bit," he ordered Sesshoumaru, like he might suddenly get up and run away. He didn't even look like he could hear him. "And—don't go to sleep." Kneeling down, Inuyasha pulled off his fire-rat haori and swung it around his brother's quaking shoulders. Glazed golden eyes flicked to his, recognition lighting them up like torches.

Pale blue lips moved, but nothing was coming out. Still half-frozen, probably. Inuyasha just pulled Tetsusaiga's sheath from his waistband and tied the haori closed as best he could. Then he pelted out of the destroyed field, and began looking for some nearby shelter.

The wind was biting into his skin, making his shoulder ache badly even as it tried to heal. He wasn't immune to the cold despite his natural resistance to the elements, so he tried to be as quick as he could. Besides, he didn't feel good about leaving Sesshoumaru out there. He'd ice up again for real this time if he wasn't quick.

He was getting frantic when he eventually saw someone standing in the snow beneath a tree, staring at him. Changing direction he ran over to them, realising it was a woman about Kaede's age. From the village, probably.

"Where are your clothes?" she asked immediately, a frown marring her brow. "It's cold you know."

"Damn right I know it, my fucking nipples are about to drop off," he said bluntly, hopping from foot to foot. "But my brother's real sick. I need some shelter, somewhere I can make a fire. I can't carry him to the village. Is there anywhere out here I can use?"

She stared at him intently for a second too long before replying. "That's a nasty wound on your shoulder," she said, seemingly at random. "Are you sure you don't want to take care of yourself, first? Surely your brother can wait—"

"Lady I really don't have the time to chat with you, do you know anywhere or not? He's gonna freeze out there." The vivid undercurrent of worry in his voice surprised even him.

The old woman suddenly smiled at him, untucking one of her hands from the sleeve of her kimono.

"We wouldn't want that. Try over that way, won't you?" She pointed in the direction of the craggy hill he'd just climbed over. "There's a dry cave there with some firewood for travellers who get caught in the snow."

Inuyasha looked mistrustful. "I just looked over there, there wasn't anything like that."

"Look again," she advised him gently.

"Okay, but you'd better not be fooling with me," he said, too worried to sound properly threatening. He sprinted off in the direction he'd come from, leaving the woman behind him.

Inuyasha had spotted the mouth of the cave at the same moment he realised that the old woman had lacked any kind of scent. Like she wasn't real, or—

"Just trust the hallucination," he told himself firmly. Gripping his aching shoulder, he headed back to collect Sesshoumaru, hoping he hadn't frozen to death or anything.

Wouldn't that be a perfect end to the day?

When Inuyasha made it back to Sesshoumaru his stomach twisted strangely at the sight of him. The proud daiyoukai was crumpled there like someone had cut his strings, hunched in on himself, shaking violently. It hammered home for that hanyou that he'd made the right decision – even if that kugutsu had tried to hand him all the shards Naraku possessed, choosing Sesshoumaru had been right.

"You still with me?" he asked pointlessly as he reached his side, kneeling down in front of him. "C'mon, you can't save my ass and then die on me from a little frostbite. That would be so lame. Sesshoumaru?" Reaching out, Inuyasha placed a hand under his brother's jaw, brushing aside slush-filled hair to lift his head so their eyes could meet.

"Sesshoumaru? Can you—hrnk!" Inuyasha's breath was pushed out of his lungs as surprisingly strong arms lashed out and yanked him forward, slamming him bodily into his freezing brother. At the first shocking touch of his icy body the hanyou thought maybe Sesshoumaru was trying to kill him. Then a deathly pale face was pushed into the crook of his shoulder, shaking hands shoved under the warm blanket of his thick hair where fingers pressed greedily against his bare back. Inuyasha understood.

Sesshoumaru was cold. And, now that he had a scent—and a heartbeat—

Fear.

Oh.

"I've got you," Inuyasha said, stunned. "You're all right now." His arms looped around his trembling brother almost of their own accord.

"S-s-s-stupid hanyou," Sesshoumaru stammered out, his mouth cold on his throat. "S-s-should have t-t-taken them—" He broke off with a pained sound, pushing his face harder against Inuyasha's neck. Rubbing fiercely at his back, trying to generate some warmth in him, the hanyou tried to process that.

Sesshoumaru had wanted him to take the shards. But that sharp tang of what had to be fear, or worry or concern, whatever it was tangled up in his restarted heartbeat, thumping irregular and shocky under his hands. . .

Could that be for him?

"I'll have those shards one way or another," he swore, right against his brother's freezing ear. "But you're a bit harder to replace, you freaky youkai. Now come on, I've hallucinated up a cave for us to dry out in." Inuyasha tugged at Sesshoumaru's elbow, praying he wasn't going to have to drag him the whole way. Amazingly, the bastard had enough youkai strength in him to resist.

"Y-you broke it," Sesshoumaru rasped, the effort to speak sounding agonising. "The s-s-spell. You want-t-ted me gone. As payment. L-l-leave me."

Shocked, Inuyasha stared down at the top of his brother's head, trying to absorb what he was saying. Obviously he'd been able to hear him while he'd been frozen, if he was talking about the deal Inuyasha had mentioned at the start. But telling him to leave him there?

"No," the hanyou said without hesitation. "Like I could ever leave you out here alone. I couldn't before and I'm not going to now. So get your ass out of the snow or I'm dragging you by the hair, ice queen."

For one helpless moment Sesshoumaru didn't move, and Inuyasha wondered if he was just too cold to save himself now. But then his head slowly lifted out of Inuyasha's shoulder and he caught a glimpse of a single brilliant golden eye narrowed at him, and the hanyou laughed in sheer relief.

"I've missed that look," he told the youkai lord, so buoyed by the life still burning in his gaze that he kissed the half-frozen bastard, right on that damned crescent moon of his. "Now you have to live long enough to pay me back for that."

Hauling him out of the snow in one punishing movement, Inuyasha slung a trembling arm over his shoulder, gripping the long pale fingers to anchor Sesshoumaru to his side.

Then they were off.

"You still with me?" he panted once they were halfway across the field, aimed right at the cave-from-nowhere the old lady had directed him to. "Sesshoumaru?" Inuyasha squeezed the fingers in his grip for emphasis.

He wasn't expecting the fingers to squeeze back. But they did, albeit weakly, and that was all the answer the hanyou needed.

"Of course you are, you frosty bitch," he agreed, grinning like a maniac at nothing in particular. Sesshoumaru released a painful, rumbling sound of affront, making him grin even harder. "Oh come on, I've earned this. You know I've earned this. I'm going to be rubbing your face in this forever."

They'd made it a few more metres when Sesshoumaru turned his head.

"Will t-t-tell everyone you froze yours-s-self to my lips. E-everyone."

Inuyasha blinked.

"That's fucking blackmail, is what that is," he said, disgusted. "Shit, where's your sense of decency?"

"F-f-frozen." Was that a hint of amusement in his voice? Despite his irritation, Inuyasha found himself grinning again.

"Frozen like your blue balls."

Five seconds later Inuyasha tripped on a well-placed boot and they both ploughed face-first into the snow. To add insult to injury Sesshoumaru had the gall to land on top of him, instead of in the freezing snow beside him like any decent person would.

"A-are you a-all right?" Sesshoumaru's face was far too close to his. Inuyasha made a pathetic sound of pain.

"I think my kidneys exploded," he whispered, going limp. A moment later a cold nose pressed into his eye socket, entirely dog-like – and hilarious. Inuyasha's deathly façade broke immediately and he snorted, turning his face away. "God you're freezing! Asshole, I can't believe you tripped me—"

"Thank you," Sesshoumaru said quietly over the tail end of his complaints, and it was the first thing he'd managed to say without shivering. Inuyasha just stared up at him. The colour was coming back into his face now, which meant his body was probably starting to regulate his temperature properly. The piercing golden eyes and the cold curve of his mouth that Inuyasha knew so well were coming back by slow degrees. It made him oddly sad to see that, because he knew that once Sesshoumaru had thawed out and healed up completely, the gracious person sprawled over him would melt away with the ice.

Things would go back to before. Which really, was all he had expected.

Still, Inuyasha wouldn't forget what it felt like to be needed by Sesshoumaru, for however short a time. Not ever.

"You're welcome," he said simply, the levity disappearing from his voice. "You're going now, aren't you?"

The youkai lord nodded silently, shifting off him to kneel by his side. "Jaken and Rin will be searching for me. I must find them." He watched Inuyasha carefully as he pushed himself upright with a groan, gingerly touching his fingertips to the stab wound at his shoulder. It hadn't started bleeding again, thank god.

When he glanced back to Sesshoumaru, he was holding his haori out to him, eyes distant and expression closed. Inuyasha just took it wordlessly and whirled it around his shoulders, even though it was damp now and smelled just like his brother.

"Guess I'll see you around," he said finally, wondering why he felt so downtrodden all of the sudden. Maybe he'd had more hope than he'd bothered to acknowledge. Stupid, really.

Sesshoumaru got to his feet stiffly, his shivering now down to mere faint trembling when the wind picked up. But he was watching Inuyasha very carefully.

"While ever I could not care about someone more than my own life, the ice could not melt," Sesshoumaru said suddenly, his gaze vividly intense. "Do you understand?"

Inuyasha stared up at him, his eyes wide.

"Gross," he said finally. "I knew you and Naraku teamed up once but that's just sick."

Sesshoumaru eyebrow twitched. Then he scowled thunderously. "You imbecile, t-that's not who I was—"

The hanyou sniggered. "I know. But if I don't joke about it we're gonna have some kind of mushy heart to heart, and then I'll officially lose my shit after the day I've had." Gathering his feet underneath him, Inuyasha pushed himself up into a standing position, feeling flattened and bruised and half-frozen all at once. Good times, he thought half-heartedly. "Think that feeling's gonna wear off though? There's a shitload of bad blood in our past."

Sesshoumaru shook his head, shrugging. "Time will tell," was all he said in reply, but there was a look in his eyes that was blazing very vehement no. Something big had definitely changed for him. But it was going to take Inuyasha a lot longer to deal with things – there was no handy curse to open his eyes. Maybe his scars were there for life.

But after everything that had happened, and the realisation of his own attachment to his youkai half-brother, he knew one thing.

Inuyasha was damn well going to find out.

End