Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Dear Zero," the letter read. "I hope this message finds you well."

-

Kallen, oddly enough, was the first to notice. She had always been an observant woman, and years of fighting in a Knightmare Frame had sharpened her natural skills even further. True, the world had been largely at peace now for about a year, and her talents were not as needed as they had once been, but she had learned to keep a sharp eye in any situation, and was determined to preserve the peace they had sacrificed so much for.

Observing Zero, in particular, was something she had gotten rather skilled at. From her very first encounter with the masked vigilante to her trying to figure out his identity (and everything that had come with and after that), she had become something of an expert at keeping an eye on the Black Knights' leader.

Granted, the man behind the mask then had not been the one currently standing at Nunnally's side. But him, too, she knew how to read; had learned all about it back when he was the enemy. And she had learned to read him as the new Zero as well. Enough to tell that something was definitely off now.

"Oi. What's wrong with you?" She hissed, discreet but to the point, falling in stride with him.

"I beg your pardon?" Ugh. She hated the overly polite way in which he spoke now.

"You're not being your usual annoyingly perfect little soldier. You're stiff as a board, I can see your hands trembling and you nearly stumbled just now. If something's wrong or we're under threat I'd rather you told me now."

They were walking back from one of Nunnally's weekly meetings with various higher-ups - something Kallen had offered to attend every once in a while as a senior member of the Black Knights - and out of earshot of anyone important. Nunnally herself was several paces ahead of them, politely engaged in conversation with a young emissary.

Zero stiffened at her words, and then his limbs visibly relaxed - but too late. Kallen was no fool.

"Thank you for your concern, but I assure you that everything is fine. I apologize for the slip up - my boot simply caught on a tile."

She snorted.

"Yeah, right. I know you well enough to know that you don't do stumbles, even in those heels. So what's the matter?"

He was tense alright. And very much not willing to admit it.

"Everything is under control, Miss Kouzuki. Rest assured that we will not hesitate to call upon you if need be."

Putting an end to their exchange, Zero quickened his pace to get past her and back to Nunnally.

It was Kallen's turn to tense. There was definitely something wrong with him.

-

"Thus, when Justice finally punishes you for the tragedies you have caused, the thought of your suffering will be all the sweeter to me, as pain and agony slowly rid you of the health you unfairly possess."

-

It took two more hours for Nunnally herself to corner him in turn. In her defense, political matters and etiquette required a lot of her concentration, and Kallen could tell that Zero was taking great care not to slip up again, especially in front of the young woman. But Nunnally had spent years relying on senses other than sight, and she was not fooled for long either.

The masked aide tried to brush her concern aside, too.

"Your Majesty, if my ability to protect you were compromised, then you would be at threat. And I would never put your life in danger. Please do not doubt this."

Nunnally was not appeased.

"I don't. But it's not me I'm worried about."

Zero only stood up straighter.

"There is no need to be. Now, we must be on our way or you will be late for the next meeting." He replied, moving ahead of her with a swish of his cape. It was not nearly as graceful as he had learned to be.

Nunnally would not have let Suzaku get away with this, Kallen thought. But this was Zero, and they were in public and on a schedule. It was obviously taking the young woman a lot of self-restraint and professionalism not to push the issue further, but her hands did go to the controls of her wheelchair in resignation.

The expression on her face, however, made it clear that she was not letting it go.

"We will talk again after this." She said loudly, her chair already in motion.

Kallen was technically done for the day, but she decided to stay with them a little longer anyway. Just in case.

-

"And when you realize that nothing can save you from the inevitable, I can only hope that you finally understand how much you deserve this torment, and how the spirits of the slaughtered will rejoice to see the doors of Hell open for you."

-

During the last meeting of the day (a small, private affair with only a few secretaries and boring administrative discussions), Kallen kept a particularly sharp eye on Zero but could no longer find anything out of the ordinary with his posture. There was not much to judge him by: he was standing behind Nunnally, still as a statue. The tremors in his hands were gone, his feet were firmly stuck to the floor and there was nothing strange to report. In fact, he was so immobile that Kallen almost started doubting her earlier observations. Had she and Nunnally simply overreacted? She shook her head to dismiss the thought: no, there was something, she was certain of it.

The meeting came to an end, the secretaries and officials took their leave, and when it was only the three of them left, Zero took off the mask quick as lightning so he could empty his stomach in the nearest trash can.

Ah. There it was.

"Well," Kallen said. "Good thing you took the mask off in time."

-

"Sincerely, Death."

Chapter Text

Lelouch Vi Britannia was dead. He had been killed a little over a year ago, at his own request, and the hand of his best friend. It had been a magnificent plan, calculated to the littlest detail, and executed perfectly after weeks of intense planning and negociations with his Knight - and himself. But Lelouch had made peace with both before the grand finale, and been ready to face the fate he had chosen for himself.

And then he had woken up.

Jeremiah, who had luckily managed to secure his corpse before the angry crowds got to it, had nearly had a stroke.

Lelouch himself had been very angry.

"I think we took a wrong turn," C.C said, ahead of him. "We're too far left from the main road".

She folded up the hand-drawn map they had been given and ignored Lelouch's huff of annoyance.

"Yes, that would be the fork in the road where I said 'this is a wrong turn, it will take us too far left'''.

"This path looked mysterious and promising. You should listen to the call of adventure, sometimes. Look," she held out her hand. "I picked berries."

"We're here on an investigation, C.C, not an adventure."

"Same thing."

They were in the countryside, on a deserted road slithering through fields and pasture. The research Lelouch had done ahead of this had led them to a small village and its peaceful inhabitants. It did not look like anyone here had any desire for murder or even any ill will towards anyone, but you never knew. Lelouch simply hoped his investigation would not come to a dead end in this place. It had been a while since he had come across anything to challenge his intellect.

Plans and schemes were no longer as needed in the new world he had created and was still getting used to.

There was a gentle breeze blowing; Lelouch turned his face into it in appreciation. It was all in the little things, now.

C.C said these things took time anyway.

He adjusted the cap he was wearing under the hood of his shirt so it covered his eyes (a getup he would not have been caught wearing as Lelouch Vi Britannia, but that was the point) and was following C.C back down the road when his phone rang.

"What is it?" C.C asked: Lelouch had stopped walking and looked slightly perplexed.

"A text from Nunnally. She says Suzaku is sick."

"I didn't know he could get sick."

"It's not a common occurence." Lelouch was typing a quick response to his sister, a frown of his face.

"Are you worried?"

"Her message is not alarming." He said, pocketing the phone again. "Let's finish what we came here to do."

But C.C knew him well.

"And not linger unnecessarily, got it."

Lelouch had already resumed walking.

-

Suzaku Kururugi was also dead. Officially, he had been dead even longer than Lelouch Vi Britannia, having been killed in combat shortly before the Demon Emperor took over the entire world.

Unofficially, Suzaku Kururugi was now Zero. Condemned to a lifetime of solitude and secrets, eternally sacrificing his happiness for the sake of the world. So Lelouch had promised.

For a year now, he had been fulfilling this role perfectly. Until the previous afternoon.

Suzaku was annoyed at himself for failing to put up the front longer. The meeting had been the last of the day, and Nunnally had no further obligations after it. He had already managed to go through most of the day despite the debilitating headache and muscle pain that had come out of nowhere after his morning routine: if only he had managed to keep up appearances for just a little longer, he could have gone home to his rest and no one would have been the wiser.

But the nausea had taken him by surprise, very suddenly, and it had required a lot of self-control to wait for the guests to leave so he could take off the mask and...puke his guts out in front of Nunnally and Kallen. He was glad the officials, at least, had not lingered: a few more seconds and he would have been looking at a very different problem.

He had promised Nunnally, afterwards, that it was just a migraine; he would take something for it and be right as rain the following morning.

But when the following morning came, Suzaku woke up feeling even worse.

He was not proud of how Nunnally had found that out.

A familiar deep voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"I'm told if you frown too much you'll get lines early."

Suzaku always had a feeling that Lelouch, like Arthur, somehow had a way into Zero's secret quarters: there was his proof, standing in the kitchenette like he owned the place. The former prince took a seat opposite him at the table.

"I wear an integral helmet everyday; so no big deal. I thought you weren't coming back until Saturday?"

Suzaku raised his cup to drink; Lelouch had caught the great Zero on house arrest, in his pajamas, sulking into his tea. Then the thought hit him:

"Nunnally called you, didn't she?"

"Texted, actually. I'm guessing as a compromise between wanting me to know and not wanting to alarm me. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've got a cold and everyone's making a fuss about it."

His oldest friend grimaced.

"I don't remember the last time you took a sick day. They're just worried."

Suzaku shrugged.

"There was that time Cécile made wasabi yogurt."

"That was food poisoning, and we all saw it coming. You were just too nice to say no."

Lelouch had a point. But Cécile had put her heart into those yogurts. Her heart and wasabi paste. He sighed.

"I shouldn't be sitting here, I'm fine enough to do my job."

"That's not what I heard," Lelouch said, lifting elegant eyebrows. Suzaku groaned - he had hoped his recent humiliation would remain somewhat private.

Nunnally had been waiting for him outside his quarters, that morning. Her idea of making sure he was indeed fine and fit for work had been to challenge him to get past Sayoko in the adjoining corridor.

He had not been fit for work.

Sayoko had picked him up from the floor and sent him back to bed with more painkillers.

Suzaku's shoulders slumped in defeat at the memory. He was still baffled at how easily she had beaten him. Maybe he really was more tired than he thought.

"Nunnally is capable enough to manage without you for a day," Lelouch went on, "and Kallen has already agreed to take over bodyguard duty for today. Schneizel is available if anything comes up, not to mention me. There is also a difference between sitting here making faces at your tea, and taking up your regular duties while you're unwell. You might feel okay now, but Zero is no use to anyone if you suddenly collapse in public."

"You talk like I'm half-dead already."

"No offense, my friend, but you really don't look too good."

Suzaku tried to catch his upside-down reflection in the teaspoon. Maybe he looked a little pale. And...were those rings under his eyes? Squinting made his head hurt.

"I felt fine yesterday morning. It's probably just a bug that's going around and I'll be fine in a couple days."

Lelouch was studying him like he was trying to solve a new puzzle; it was a little unsettling.

"How are you feeling, really?"

Suzaku huffed and put down his cup noisily.

"Ridiculous? This is nothing, I've been in a knightmare in worse conditions."

Lelouch kept silent, his eyes trained on him, waiting. There was probably no getting around that question.

Suzaku gave in with another sigh.

"Tired, mostly. I'm sore, like I've been in several fights and lost them. And my head hurts a little. That's about it."

"How's your temperature? Any more nausea?"

"Normal, and yes, but easily manageable."

"Well, you're staying in today anyway, so stop sulking over it. Use the opportunity to rest and take it easy for once. If you're not feeling any better tonight I'll have doctor Hester take a look at you."

Helena Hester was a particularly gifted doctor Lelouch had Geassed prior to the Requiem in case of an emergency. There were some things he was not willing to completely leave in Lloyd's hands, and that apparently included Suzaku's health as Zero. Doctor Hester had been ordered to perform any medical action necessary to ensure Zero's health and survival, and never remember nor reveal his identity, that of others with him, or anything odd that should catch her attention while performing her job. Suzaku could gladly say that her services had never been needed so far - and he hoped it would remain that way.

Lelouch put the laptop he had brought with him on the table and turned it on. Suzaku blinked in surprise; he had not planned for him to stay for long.

"...Are you going to work here?"

"I can sit elsewhere in the room if you'd prefer. But I've got everything I need on this, your rooms are the most secure part of Nunnally's mansion, and someone needs to make sure you're not going to try and run off while on sick leave. So yes, I'm going to work here."

Suzaku tried not to feel offended. He was getting antsy already, and had been entertaining the idea of just slipping out before Lelouch turned up, queasiness be damned. He chose not to comment and changed the subject.

"What are you working on?"

"The odd deaths I told you about the other day. I think we've done enough fieldwork to start connecting the dots."

Lelouch had, during one of his daily perusals of classified information, come across records of several strange deaths in a remote part of the country. No apparent causes of decease were found: these people had simply been found dead in their beds. An official investigation was underway, but with the current world busy rebuilding itself, it was not going as smoothly as it should have. Lelouch had secretly taken over, in one of many attempts to occupy himself. He had found a lead in a small village and gone to discreetly have a look.

C.C had come along for 'the adventure'.

"Where's C.C?"

"She said she wanted to find Kallen and make faces at her to test her concentration."

"Oh."

The conversation stalled; Lelouch's fingers started typing at their usual frightening speed. There had been little opportunities for earnest discussion between the busy Zero and his resurrected best friend in hiding this past year; not that they had ever been too gifted at those. Most of the few conversations they managed to have were focused on current politics, Zero's role in the new world, and Lelouch's occasional corrections to his posture (he was never dramatic enough).

At least the former Zero had not taken Suzaku's punishment back from him. He was not sure where that would have taken him.

"What do you usually do, on your off days?"

Suzaku looked back up. He had been lost in his thoughts, something Lelouch often argued was quite the accomplishment for him.

Off days, huh. Well, he definitely had a few hours to himself every once in a while, right?

"Catch up on sleep. Work out. Check the news."

"No workout today." There was no arguing with that tone. "Find something to occupy yourself that doesn't involve exercise."

Yes, Suzaku was definitely pouting now.

-

A few hours later found C.C kneeling in front of Zero's couch for the right angle to take a picture.

"So he fell asleep watching cat videos on his phone?"

"That's what I said."

"Aw, and you put a blanket over him so he wouldn't feel cold." She saved the picture; this was going straight to her favorites.

"He's ill, C.C, and not getting worse on my watch. Stop poking him, he needs to rest. Actually, I'm surprised he's still asleep with the noise you're making."

"Fine, fine."

She went to sit next to him at the kitchen table.

"But now I'm bored."

"You could always help me go through these files."

"I could, but that would be boring."

"You're the one who wanted to help in the first place."

"With your investigations outside, yes. The boring parts are all yours."

The former Emperor groaned and went back to his data. C.C held back a smile.

Lelouch's unexpected survival had taken him through various stages that he was still dealing with more than a year on. Anger had been the most prominent of those: violent and absolute. In a move neither C.C nor him really understood, and from beyond both of their graves, Charles had managed to take Lelouch's own death away from him.

Yes, the anger had been real.

But it was abating.

He was still figuring out the immortality part, though. Acceptance was still probably a long way away.

C.C was glad that he was not alone for this.

But Lelouch was still dead to everyone but a handful of trusted people. The Demon Emperor and his face were still on many people's minds, so he could not simply go back to his old life nor start a new one somewhere else. His Geass was gone too, courtesy of the unsought Code he now possessed, so he could no longer rely on it to get him out of sticky situations. Having, apparently, little desire to become a hermit in Antartica, he had decided for the time being to stick to the shadows of the people he cared most about, helping from the sidelines and in every little way he could with the rebuilding of the world.

It was not much, considering he had been very meticulous in his pre-death planning, and could no longer show his face anywhere. But it was enough, for now.

C.C herself had grown quite fond of him and the people he loved, anyway. She, too, had chosen them as the starting point of a new adventure.

Lelouch was back to his computer work; C.C leaned over to see various pictures of people on the screen.

"Who are these?" She asked.

"People from the village we were in yesterday. I've gathered files on them all to compare with what we know so far."

"This old lady looks like she's wearing a dead bird on her head."

"That's a hat."

"Are you sure? Looks like a dead duck to me. See? That part looks like a beak." She elaborated, pointing to the area she meant.

"It's a hat. But thank you for the input."

"You're welcome."

Seeing that her expertise was not appreciated to its proper extent, she started exploring the room they were in. Maybe Suzaku had a hidden stash of Pizza Hut coupons somewhere.

The three small rooms that constituted Zero's quarters were hidden somewhere in Nunnally's mansion, for him to use when his services where not needed. There were no windows. No pictures on the walls. From what C.C could tell, these were not living quarters so much as the place where Suzaku went back to eat and sleep after days and nights of work. Except for very basic furniture and a few cat toys, the living room was despairingly bare. C.C was on her way to the bedroom for further investigation when she noticed Suzaku's head emerging from the blanket Lelouch had put over him.

He looked awful, and she was being nice. Pale as death, with dark circles under his glassy, bloodshot eyes, his hair sticking up every which way. He was blinking at her and Lelouch like he had no idea what they were doing here, and moving as slowly as if he had just woken up from a 100 years' slumber. She watched him wobble to his feet, dangerously sway for several seconds, and heavily fall back down onto the cushions.

"I'm fine," he said sullenly when he caught the looks on their faces.

"Sure you are," Lelouch said, and took out his phone to call the doctor.

Chapter Text

It was probably not a cold, according to doctor Helena Hester: there was no sign of fever so far, no congestion, no coughing. But the exhaustion, soreness, and nausea were worrisome. Not to mention how fast the symptoms had appeared and developed. It could just as well be a seasonal bug, as Suzaku himself claimed, but they had taken a sample of his blood to make sure, and the doctor's recommendations were to keep a close eye on him, let him rest, and report any new symptom while they waited for the test results.

Lelouch was not satisfied with knowing what it probably was not. His mind was too sharp not to go through every other possibility, from the most mundane to the most elaborately disastrous.

Zero was not just any patient.

"Could it be poison?" he asked.

The young doctor looked up from her notes.

"Do you mean food poisoning?"

"No." He had already asked Sayoko to meticulously check their food supplies, and although Suzaku had been sick several times, he had not complained of stomach cramps. "I mean poison."

-

There were many things Kallen would have rather been doing other than watch over her once-friend turned enemy turned maybe-something-like-fifteen-percent-friend again. Like working on the Guren. Or buying new boxing gloves to punch Weinberg's face with at the gym.

Her day of acting as Nunnally's bodyguard had ended with the news that Zero would not be taking up his duties the following day either, and that they were waiting on some test results to know what was actually wrong with him. Meanwhile, they were to take turns watching over the grounded soldier to make sure no new symptoms appeared and he did not try to run off. Lelouch had taken first shift, then temporarily retreated to the other secret rooms Nunnally kept for him to do some research Kallen was not privy to. Nunnally herself was busy rearranging her schedule and smoothing over Zero's absence, and C.C had claimed urgent business elsewhere, to Kallen's great annoyment. The list of trusted people who were aware of Zero's true identity was a limited one. Nunnally had turned to her with the dreaded question on her lips, and Kallen had not been able to say no. She could afford to miss a class or two.

So there she was, sitting on the uncomfortable couch in Zero's secret 'home', watching the restless pacing of her old enemy. Frenemy. She was not quite certain where they stood now. Lelouch's insane plan had made sure of that.

Suzaku did look like shit, to be honest. It was the first time she was seeing him without the mask ever since he had taken on the role of Zero (barring the very brief incident two days ago) and she was not sure how much of the paleness and visible exhaustion was due to the illness and not the after-effects of wearing a mask for the better part of a year. His eyes were red and ringed with dark circles, and he rubbed his temples often enough to tell her that the painkillers probably did not have much effect on his headaches. He did not look too steady on his feet either, and maybe that was what she found the most disturbing: this was the man who matched her blow for blow in battle and could outrun bullets. Seeing him sway on his feet was just too strange.

A sight made even stranger by the fact that he was wearing pajama pants and a very large sweatshirt; maybe Zero's wardrobe was limited beyond the famous costume.

Kallen had seen Suzaku wear several curious outfits over the time she had known him - from a cat costume and even skirts to the disturbingly sexy Knight of Zero uniform - but this made him look oddly young and vulnerable.

In short, he did not look like the Suzaku she remembered at all.

He also made a terrible patient.

Suzaku did not want to sit still. He had tried to slip out twice already, and kept trying to talk her into letting him "stretch his legs a little"; which was the same thing considering his quarters consisted of two small rooms and a bathroom. Kallen could not really find it in herself to blame him: she had spent way too long pretending to be frail and ill, and while it had been a front, she could easily confirm it was the most boring and frustrating thing ever. Especially for active people like the two of them.

But. She had orders.

"Look, Suzaku. Don't you think there's a reason Lelouch confiscated the Zero suit and threatened to handcuff you to the couch?"

Suzaku stopped pacing, but he had no ready answer to that and finally sat down, defeated. Then his face turned somber.

"Zero."

"What?"

"I'm Zero. Suzaku is dead."

He was frighteningly serious as he said it, eyes cold and fixed ahead of him. Kallen covered her uneasiness with annoyance.

"I'm only just getting used to calling you Zero with the mask on, don't expect me to use the name to your face anytime soon."

...not that she would be seeing his face again after this, anyway. Suzaku's half-glance towards her told her the same conclusion had crossed his mind. But he said nothing, serious and broody, until Kallen caught him shivering, crossing his arms to try and hide it.

She threw a blanket at him.

"What do you do to pass the time here, anyway? I'm bringing games next time. Pretty sure I'd kick your ass at Mario Kart."

He did crack a very small smile at that, maybe eager for the challenge. Kallen felt the corners of her own lips turn up in a smirk.

"Sorry," Suzaku said. "I don't spend much time in this place. It's a bit bare."

"A bit dead, you mean."

Suzaku clutched the blanket closer to him.

Kallen sighed noisily, leaned back and put her socked feet up on the coffee table. There was not even anything on it to accidentally displace. Somehow she doubted this room would have been much more interesting even if Suzaku did spend more time in it.

She stole another glance at him, sitting on the edge of the couch like he expected to get up any minute, his grip white on the flowered quilt. The look on his face was that of a punished kid.

She forced her gaze elsewhere. The ceiling was dark grey. Huh.

It was an awkward situation. Kallen had sort of gotten used to him being the new Zero, even though she did not entirely approve of it. Maybe the fact that she did not have to constantly see his face had helped; who knew. But she had insisted that he was Zero, that day, when Tohdoh had figured who must have been behind the mask, and she had meant it.

But now the mask was off, and he was Suzaku again, no matter what he claimed. Suzaku, the boy she had seen crying in relief that his classmates were safe, and the man she had tried to kill on more than one occasion. Suzaku, who had fought against her with all he had, but also asked her to leave their conflict out of school. Suzaku, who had been a constant thorn in the Black Knights' side, and was now their leader.

He was a walking contradiction, and trying to understand him was frustrating and time-consuming. It had been easier to hate the guy.

And sitting next to him, feet on the table, talking about video games? She felt like she was at a friends' house, jokingly berating them for being a terrible host while they were sick.

It was disorienting.

Arthur jumped onto Suzaku's lap out of nowhere, licked her paw, and settled down to nap. Kallen was glad for the distraction and the opportunity to tease her old rival. Teasing was easy and safe.

"Wow. Look at that. You look so bad she won't even bite you."

The cat had brought Suzaku's mind back from wherever it had gone, too; he smiled and scratched the feline's ears.

Kallen relaxed into the couch. If she just stopped thinking for a minute, she could almost pretend they were back in the student council room, waiting for Milly to turn up with a crazy plan.

Almost.

"Do you have playing cards, at least?"

-

"Poison?" The doctor looked mildly surprised but quickly recovered. "We'd need to run more specific blood tests to find out. I don't think we can completely rule it out, but it's not the preferred diagnosis at the moment."

Lelouch nodded and voiced his own analysis.

"Considering the target, the culprit would have gone through a lot of trouble just for some fatigue and nausea, right?"

She inclined her head in confirmation, picking up on his train of thought:

"Same goes for anything needing to be administered more than once. If someone wanted to harm one of the most inaccessible symbols in the country, they would probably go for something more straightforward that didn't necessitate taking multiple risks."

Yes, Lelouch had come to the same conclusion. At least doctor Hester seemed intelligent enough to keep up with his theories. But his brain was trained to consider every possibility, and Zero was a likely target for such methods. Lelouch could not discard the option until he knew for sure what exactly was ailing his friend.

He turned back to the young woman.

"I'll ask doctor Asplund to help with the blood samples - the equipment at his disposal might help hurry things along. Human health is not his field of expertise but he'll be a precious ally."

Lelouch made to leave, but his hand stilled on the door handle. There was one last question.

-

In the afternoon that day, Nunnally finally found time in her schedule for a visit to her sick aide. Lelouch had tried to dissuade her from it, claiming that whatever Suzaku had caught could be contagious - but she had calmly replied that she would be careful, that they were all taking the same risk, and that she could make her own decisions.

She was very, very happy to have her brother back. She took several minutes, every day, to be grateful to the world for it. But sometimes he coddled her a little too much still.

Although he tried to hide it from her, Nunnally could tell that Lelouch was as worried as she was. They were not used to Suzaku being down; he was the strong one. He used to carry her on his back around Kururugi shrine when they were children, and he was the one protecting her as Zero. Keeping him confined to his rooms because of an unknown illness was not something she and Lelouch were enjoying much. Not to mention that what medicine the doctor gave him did not seem to have much effect, from what they could tell.

She would not admit it to anyone, but there was also a treacherous part of her that simply wanted to be in the company of Suzaku instead of Zero, for once. Nunnally had only ever seen him without the mask on twice: when he had first taken it off to be sick, and when she had dropped by, the evening before, to find the young man asleep on the couch. Pictures just were not the same. She wanted to see him be someone other than her vigilant bodyguard, see the bright green eyes for herself. She tried not to think too much on it - he was sick, now was not the time to impose on him out of selfish curiosity. But the little voice was there, pushing her to go see.

Nunnally made sure she was alone at the hidden corner to his quarters, and knocked softly. It was a few long seconds before the door opened (whoever was inside had to check the hidden camera to make sure she was a welcome guest, first) and C.C appeared on the threshold, this time: she must have come back earlier in the day and joined Kallen on what the red-haired woman had called her "babysitting mission". But before Nunnally could even greet the immortal woman properly, Kallen's voice came from the living room, loud and angry, and Nunnally turned her head to find her supporting Suzaku with an arm around his shoulders. The young pilot sounded pretty cross with him and was telling him off for something. Suzaku himself looked a little dazed as Kallen helped him sit on the couch.

"Suzaku? Are you okay?" Nunnally asked, as C.C let her through and closed the secret door behind her.

The young man raised his head at the sound of Nunnally's voice, and immediately tried to get back up - Kallen was faster and pushed him back down onto the couch, not too gently.

"Sit, you idiot!"

Nunnally quickly wheeled herself closer.

"Did something happen?"

Kallen said "yes" over Suzaku's "no". The redhead had her phone out and was typing furiously one-handed - the other hand was still on Suzaku's shoulder to prevent him from moving.

"Stay put. I'm telling Lelouch you fainted."

"I didn't, I just stood up too fast and-"

"You fainted?" Nunnally's horrified voice brought his attention back to her; his hands went up, palms out, in an effort to calm the situation.

"I was just lightheaded for a second-"

"-and fell like a sack of potatoes." C.C finished for him in her usual calm voice, joining them. "Good thing Kallen was there to catch you, I was busy checking the contents of your fridge. Pathetic, by the way."

Kallen glared at her, an eye on her phone.

"Oh look, Lelouch says he's on his way."

Suzaku groaned; he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and put his head in his hands.

"I was just dizzy, Kallen, Lelouch is going to lose it!"

Nunnally manoeuvred her chair as close to him as it would get; she put gentle fingers on his hands, tenderly moving them away from his temples. Suzaku let her, but he would not look at her and his eyes remained trained on the floor.

"Suzaku." He winced at the name. "I know this must be a frustrating situation for you, but please don't hide when you're not well. We're trying to help."

She cradled his rough, cold hands in her own delicate ones. Suzaku's head was bowed stubbornly, his lips pursed, and when he looked up again, Nunnally finally found herself looking into the bright green eyes from the pictures.

Exhaustion had traced dark circles under them, and they were bloodshot. But determination burned in them as Suzaku straightened up.

"You don't need to worry about me, Your Highness. I will take up my duties again as soon as possible. I don't deser-"

But Nunnally would not have this.

"Please do not finish that sentence."

Nunnally heard Kallen gasp audibly at her brisk tone, and caught C.C's smirk out of the corner of her eye. Suzaku, to her relief, was surprised into silence; he looked into her eyes like he was seeing her for the first time. She held his gaze to make her point clear.

"We have all lost a lot in the past, and we're just starting to rebuild ourselves. I will not allow someone I care about to suffer on their own if there is anything I can do to help. Not after everything that has happened. And especially not someone so precious to me."

Suzaku's eyes widened and darted to the side, and then back down to her hands still holding his. His fingers were cold and trembling slightly.

Nunnally felt her heart ache. She had often imagined finally seeing Suzaku with her own eyes, pictured the scene in her mind's eye many times before defeating her father's Geass, and none of the visions her imagination had provided her with had included her old friend looking so worn, with sunken cheeks and eyes dulled by illness. His shoulders were slumped in defeat.

She tightened her hold on his hands.

"You are precious to me. To all of us. Please remember that."

That was all she could ask of him for the moment.

-

"What about slow-acting poison?" Lelouch asked.

Doctor Hester put a finger to her lips in thought as she ran the option through her mind. Lelouch did not like the expression on her face.

"That would be very problematic," she concluded.

-

C.C was sitting cross-legged at the kitchen table, eating crackers Kallen had brought over, and watching "Two dead men and an apartment", a most fascinating show.

Lelouch was methodically rummaging through the poorly furnished place, plastic gloves on, carefully checking every object he came across for something C.C could not identify, and throwing away anything that did not look absolutely essential. There was not much to throw away in the first place.

Suzaku, looking like he had caught a very nasty flu, was watching him in confusion. There was not much else he could do. He was currently banned from getting up from the couch.

It had been a pretty boring scenario. Until now.

"What the hell are those?" Lelouch was shouting, angrily throwing a pile of papers on the coffee table (and picking them up again the next second like the words on them could somehow hurt the table). Apparently, he had finally found something interesting in the bedroom.

Suzaku blinked at him and the papers in his hand.

"...letters?"

"Letters? These are threats, Suzaku. Death threats. Not a single one of those doesn't call for your painful execution, or dismemberment, or plain torture in general." Lelouch stood towering over his friend, fury in his eyes. It would have been more impressive, C.C thought, without the pink gloves. "Explain. Now."

Poor Suzaku looked half-surprised and half-embarrassed.

"They're just letters I get - I mean Zero gets, they're not a secret or anything. I mean, you must have gotten the same when it was you, right?"

C.C was pretty sure stuff like fanmail had been left to Diethard and the sort to deal with - Lelouch had other priorities on his mind when he was Zero. Of course, he had probably known everything about them anyway.

"But somehow you only get threats? I'm well placed to know that Zero's mail was never limited to people menacing to cut off his head!"

"Of course not!" Suzaku sat up straighter but did not get up from the couch. Lelouch was standing close enough to him that he had to crane his neck to look up at him. "There are nice messages, too, people sending thanks for things you or I have done, I just - most of the time I share them with the Black Knights, or with Nunnally when it's a joint message."

"And you keep the death threats to yourself? How noble, Suzaku."

Ouch. Suzaku broke eye contact with Lelouch and was suddenly very interested in his own bare feet.

"Where do you get these?" Lelouch demanded. The letters were getting quite crumpled in his tight fist.

C.C leaned over to try and catch the expression on Suzaku's face, but his head was turned away from her.

"They're sent to Nunnally, or sometimes people just give them to a guard for me," he replied in a low voice, chastised. "Now that people know where to find Zero we get a lot of these. Letters and packages." He turned back to Lelouch like he had just realized where this could be going and had the means to defend himself. "But we check the packages with security before we open them. And I keep Zero's gloves on for the letters, too, and security checks them for any known drugs on the paper."

"What about those?" Lelouch raised the letters in his own gloved hands. "Do you have gloves on when you read them to sleep?"

"N-no, but. They've been verified already, so it's unlikely that there could be anything-"

"Unlikely. What did they teach you in the army? You need to take security a little more seriously!"

Suzaku was up in a flash - albeit a little less gracefully than usual. He and Lelouch were of a height: they were now nose to nose. 

"Excuse me? I live in secret rooms straight out of a spy movie, wear a full costume and helmet everytime I take a step outside, and never eat or drink anything that hasn't been verified. What about any of this isn't secure enough for you?"

"This!" Lelouch brandished the letters in his face.

Now Suzaku was angry too.

"That's just- What am I supposed to do then, live in a plastic bubble and never touch anything?"

"You could be more careful around death threats, for starters!"

Lelouch's shout ended on a barely disguised gasp. This probably felt a little too much like the sort of discussion they usually tried to avoid.

They both looked away. Anger gave Suzaku a flush that made him look livelier than he had in two days. Lelouch looked both annoyed and sorry, which gave the impression that he was constipated.

He sighed, and went to the door, taking the letters with him.

"I'll take those to Lloyd. See if he finds anything on them."

And he was gone.

Suzaku sat back down, arms crossed. He put one of the blankets back over his shoulders, exhaled loudly and glared at the empty air before him.

C.C finished her crackers noisily; Suzaku probably deserved a moment to collect himself. She gave him an entire minute, and went to sit beside him.

"Stop frowning, you'll make your headache worse."

Suzaku interrupted his pouting to snort.

"What is it with you two and my frowning?"

C.C relaxed back into the cushions with a dramatic flourish of her hand.

"It's our common love for fine art, you see. You're more aesthetically pleasing with your brows not drawn together."

There was the faintest trace of a blush on his cheeks, but it was quickly gone; he was getting used to her antics. He was soon back into his somber mood.

C.C sighed and sat back up.

"He's worried, you know. I mean," she looked him up and down with a sneer, her eyebrows raised, "anyone would be, seeing the mighty Zero in his pajamas, shivering on the couch with Nunnally's flowery blankets around his shoulders. What's next, bunny slippers?"

Suzaku could not suppress an amused smile, this time.

Where would these two idiots be without her, C.C wondered.

Chapter Text

The bathroom was too small, and too bare. Lelouch was going to have to talk to Nunnally about getting Zero more comfortable quarters. 

As arranged before his death, he had left the creation of Zero's secret rooms to Nunnally and the new Zero himself, and had high suspicions that his sister was the one to thank for things like the place having a couch and TV, a large and comfortable bed, and more than one room at all. Left to his own devices, Suzaku would most likely have ended up with nothing but a cot in a cupboard sized room or something equally ridiculous. The end result was very decent, and Lelouch was proud of Nunnally for imposing her choices in this; but now that he found himself sitting on the cold tiled floor of the cramped bathroom, he was wishing the room were a little larger and a little more furnished. Putting a bathroom carpet in front of the toilet, for example, would not be superfluous. Suzaku did not need to feel the hard and cold floor under his knees while he was emptying his stomach for the second time in so many hours.

It had been over twenty hours since they had taken a sample of his blood, and Lelouch was still waiting for the results. Lloyd, as head of research, had threatened to ban him from the labs if he turned up there one more time: chemistry reactions could take time, and they were being thorough, at his request. All research also needed to remain an absolute secret considering the identity of the patient, which did not help matters. There were things even geniuses could not change.

To add to his frustration, the medicine they gave Suzaku did not seem to help much at all. At least from what Lelouch could tell: Suzaku had not exactly been forthcoming about how he really felt until earlier that day, when he and Nunnally had finally convinced the idiot that downplaying his symptoms only made things more difficult for everyone. 

Lelouch sighed in frustration. What he wanted was the confirmation that Suzaku had only caught a seasonal bug so that he could finally silence the annoying voice in his head constantly suggesting otherwise. He rubbed circles on his knight's back, and waited for the retching to ease up. 

It took too long for Lelouch's taste, but Suzaku finally raised his head from the toilet bowl and tried to catch his breath. Lelouch got up from the floor, silently cursed his own aching joints, and filled a glass of water for his friend.

His exhausted, miserable looking friend. Suzaku was sweating and panting like he had just ran miles. There were tear tracks on his cheeks - an involuntary response to the vomiting - and the very small sips of water he took after rinsing his mouth suggested his throat probably hurt from it, too. Lelouch flushed the toilet for him but did not sit back down: the sooner he could get Suzaku out of the cold bathroom and back to his blanket pile, the better.

"Sorry," Suzaku managed between two gulps.

"Don't apologize for being sick, it's not your fault."

There was a pause while Suzaku sipped a little more water. And then:

"...you don't know that."

Lelouch had hoped the subject of their last fight would not be brought up again this soon. He leaned against the sink.

"If the letters were tampered with, that would make your condition the fault of whoever poisoned them." And the culprit a dead man. "It would still make you an idiot, though."

Suzaku winced.

"Sorry about that, then."

Lelouch sighed dramatically, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Well, I've had time to get used to it." 

Suzaku let out a tired chuckle, closed his eyes, and leaned the back of his head against the wall behind him. In the white light of the bathroom, he looked even worse than he had in the living room. Lelouch felt his mouth twist into a grimace.  

"Look...I may have overreacted a bit, too," he tried. "We don't know what's wrong with you yet, so I'm exploring all possible causes and I don't like what I'm coming up with."

Suzaku clutched the nearly empty glass to his chest; Lelouch decided not to mention that his hands were visibly trembling.

"Sorry," the japanese boy repeated. "And I'm sorry I threw up the meal you made, too."

Okay, what. Lelouch blinked and took several seconds to try and talk himself into not calling Suzaku an idiot again so soon. He failed.

"That's a really idiotic thing to be sorry about, Suzaku."

Suzaku said nothing to that and kept his eyes firmly closed. Lelouch nearly rolled his eyes, thought better of it, and rolled his eyes really hard. 

"If anything, I should be sorry you couldn't keep it down. I'll make something lighter next time."

There was no answer, and Suzaku was definitely shivering, now. Lelouch frowned and squatted back down next to him to put the back of his hand to the other man's forehead. His friend flinched in surprise and his eyes snapped open.

"Sorry - your hand's warm."

No fever. 

Lelouch took the glass from Suzaku's hands; they were freezing.

"Come on," he said, "I'll help you back to the couch. That cold floor is doing nothing for your health."

Lelouch held out his hand: he had caught the younger man leaning on walls and door frames earlier when he thought no one was looking, and he had an inkling that the reason his friend was still sitting was really that he did need the help to get back up. Suzaku's cold hand grasped his, and Lelouch tugged him to his feet, steadying him when he wobbled. There was something very disturbing in being the stronger one, even momentarily. 

Suzaku shivered again when Lelouch put an arm around his shoulders to support him; Lelouch kept his mouth shut so as not to voice his growing concern. 

They made their slow way back to the couch and the blankets, and Lelouch sat down next to Suzaku, rubbing his arm through the layers to warm him.

"How are you feeling?"

Suzaku's jaw was clenched as his body slowly got used to the change in temperature. 

"Better now."

It sounded sincere, at least. Lelouch let out a frustrated breath through his nose.

He needed answers, and he needed them now.

-

C.C appeared a few hours into Lelouch's shift, carrying a bulging paper bag. Lelouch did not ask - he was sure he did not want to know. 

He was in Zero's kitchenette, reading through Black Knights reports from the last two weeks; if the blood tests confirmed someone had tried to poison Zero, at least Lelouch would have a head start on the investigation. Suzaku was in the bedroom with the doctor: the young woman had talked to Lelouch earlier about adjusting her patient's medicine, and she was checking up on him to make sure she had all up-to-date information. She was obviously quite committed to her job, and Suzaku's lack of improvement did not sit well with her either. Like Lelouch, she was hoping the test results would shed some light on what was really wrong with him. 

The next time Lelouch looked up from his work, the walls were no longer bare. 

C.C was standing in the middle of the room, looking around with her hands on her hips, admiring her work.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She turned to him and tilted her head to the side.

"Decorating, obviously. This place is depressing."

There were posters and pictures everywhere. From improbable ads (there was one for a Cheese-kun musical) to questionable quotes in frames ("Life is hard; it’s harder if you’re stupid"), C.C had taken it upon herself to turn Suzaku's mostly empty apartment into what looked like a college dorm room. Complete with - wait.

"What are those?" He asked, pointing to the multiple photographs she had pinned above the couch.

"Pictures."

Pictures, indeed. There was the one she had taken of Suzaku the previous day. There was one of himself, face lit by the computer, engrossed in whatever he had been working on at the time. There was an old one of Lelouch and Suzaku dressed as girls that she had no doubt stolen from someone's album, and there were the two of them again, asleep in the Emperor's apartments in Pendragon, wearing their Ashford uniforms.

"What...How...When did you take this?"

"This one? Can't you tell?"

Of course he could tell. It was the evening after Lelouch had walked onto the dais to the Emperor throne, proclaiming himself the new ruler of Britannia. Lelouch and Suzaku had spent the following evening working on the transition, doing some more planning, and they had eventually fallen asleep on a grand sofa, among various files and empty pizza boxes. He did not remember them being so close to one another in sleep: his head had dropped to Suzaku's shoulder.

"Take. These. Down. This is not your home. Do you - do you even realize the absolute catastrophe you would be responsible for if someone got in here and saw these?"

She was not impressed.

"If someone managed to get in here with all the crazy security, you would have more important problems than them seeing those pictures. And it's not your home either. Maybe Suzaku will like them."

He already had his hand on the first one, fully intent on tearing it from the wall when C.C added:

"I have multiple copies."

Lelouch gritted his teeth and hoped Suzaku would let him take the pictures down.

- 

"I like them," Suzaku said, later.

"He likes them," C.C repeated.

Lelouch dropped his head on the keyboard in despair.

("hyutygh", the computer replied.)

-

Lelouch was getting restless, and Suzaku had a feeling that in other circumstances, said restlessness would have eventually rubbed off on him. 

But he was immune to it, already being very frustrated himself.

He had not been sick in years. Suzaku had always had a good physical condition and worked hard to maintain it, and he was sure he could count the number of times he had caught anything even remotely debilitating on the fingers of one hand. Suzaku did not do colds; or at least they never stuck around long.

But this one? This one was something else entirely. The soreness he had first woken up to on that first day had evolved into full-blown pain in every single one of his muscles, which made him carefully evaluate the necessity of any trip through the small apartment. His head alternated between pounding migraines and feeling like he was living underwater. He was queasy for hours, and the idea of food had not been appealing for days now. He woke up from naps feeling like he had not slept in weeks.

He was sick of it. Ha, ha.

The doctor Lelouch had chosen for him was a nice woman, polite and attentive to everything he said, and she was clearly trying her best; but it was also obvious that she was at a loss as to why none of what she gave him had the expected results. She, too, frowned a lot when she visited him. Suzaku wished he could say he was feeling better to appease her frustration, but Lelouch and Nunnally had warned him against lying about that, and they were right, too: the more honest he was about his symptoms, the easier the young doctor could deal with them. And there was no hiding the shivers in his limbs or his frequent trips to the bathroom, anyway.

He had given up trying to fight this alone, too: his quarters had become his old friends' rallying point instead of Zero's secret base. As per his doctor's orders, there was always someone in there with him to start with, but the constant scrutiny had only gotten worse after he had swooned in Kallen's arms. Lelouch hardly let him out of his sight, and he was forbidden from taking showers with the door locked in case he slipped and cracked his head open. 

His living room was the place where people gathered to discuss his condition and look at him with pity. Cécile had knitted him socks in heavy wool (in record time), and Nunnally had brought essential oils to alleviate his headaches. 

All the attention made him very uncomfortable, especially since no matter what they did to help, he still felt awful.

The truth was that he would really feel better when all of this was over and he could finally go back to fulfilling his promise.

He was curled into a ball on the couch, trying to get some sleep (somehow he felt colder in his bed, so the couch it was for now) and Lelouch was sitting next to him, typing away on a laptop he had set up on the coffee table, looking somber. His friend had already turned up the heating in the room and made him a pot of some sophisticated tea, but Suzaku was still shivering like crazy.

One other thing he particularly hated about his current predicament was that he always felt cold. No matter what he did, no matter how many layers he put on, he was still freezing. It made things like sitting still or falling asleep a lot more difficult than they should have been.

The hot tea had helped briefly, but it was like the freezing cold that enveloped him could trace any source of warmth and turn it to ice in minutes. He had tried to explain it to Lelouch, but there was a loud buzzing in his ears that made his own voice echo unpleasantly in his brain, and Lelouch's words came from far away, like intermittent sounds on an old broken radio. Lelouch had not looked very happy about it, so Suzaku had gone back to trying to sleep in spite of the incessant shivers wracking his body, the pain in his limbs, and the fact that his head was stuck in a cloud of fogginess. 

It really should not have been this hard; he had fallen asleep in different but worse conditions as a soldier. He was exhausted, his head was hazy, and he could feel sleep tugging insistently at the edges of his consciousness. He would have liked nothing better, at the moment, than to give in to it and be dead to the world once more for a while. But everytime he felt his awareness slip away, the cold would come back with a vengeance and set his limbs to shivering once again. The renewed irritation he felt everytime was not really helping matters.

"Oof!"

All of a sudden, there was a heavy weight to his right, and he felt the corners of the blanket being lifted - and more cold creeping in - before something large and warm curled up against his side. Soft hair tickled his nose, and the smell of a woman's shampoo filled his nostrils. He was not really used to being this close to people, anymore, and only sat there unmoving while she tucked the blanket around them both. She was very warm. He could hear Lelouch cursing at her.

"C.C, What the-"

"I can hear his teeth chattering from the other side of the room."

Zero's couch was not really designed for three; he was not meant to have guests over, after all. With C.C now taking most of the space on his right, Suzaku could feel and hear Lelouch trying to wriggle out of where he was being squished against the armrest.

C.C simply reached over Suzaku and lifted the corners of the blanket on Lelouch's side. "Shut up and get under here, Your Majesty."

His Majesty grunted, but Suzaku hoped he would hurry up and join them because he was letting the cold air in, and they both knew C.C would not give up until he did as instructed anyway. Suzaku wrapped his arms tighter against himself, and gritted his teeth at the cold pressing in from the left.

Lelouch sat down. Suzaku sighed in relief. 

The three of them were now quite cosily huddled together under the blanket.

"There," C.C said, smug. "Now you're not cold anymore."

They did feel warm against him. They were also very close. C.C was trying to find a more comfortable position, but the couch was such a tight fit for three people that each of her movements pushed him closer to Lelouch in turn, and the other man tensed up next to him. Suzaku tried to curl back into himself to take as little space as possible. Lelouch clumsily moved a few cushions to make room and rearranged the blanket around them.

Lelouch smelled like fresh cologne and clean laundry. His cheeks were flushed from all the moving around. 

"I don't know how you expect him to sleep like this, C.C," he was saying, reproach clear in his deep voice.

Suzaku was so close to him he could feel his chest rumbling when he spoke. Their hands brushed when Lelouch leaned back into the couch.

It reminded him of simpler times, when they were children and sometimes fell asleep in the same bed, hand in hand.  

C.C was saying something, but Suzaku was not paying attention anymore. He could feel the heat from both of their bodies keeping the chill away. The shivering was getting more manageable. His teeth were no longer chattering. His head felt both lighter and heavier, and he felt it settle against someone's shoulder. His limbs were heavy, and he was sleepy. 

And warm.

He was asleep in mere minutes.

-

"You did that on purpose, witch."

"Shhh. You'll wake him up."

Lelouch looked down at Suzaku's peaceful face resting against his shoulder. He was fast asleep, curled up against his side. Lelouch remained as still as possible and his voice dropped to a whisper.

"No, he's sound asleep. What did you do that for?"

"For a genius, you ask a lot of questions you already know the answers to."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"And I don't believe you for one second. Or were you trying to convince yourself?"

He could feel Suzaku's soft breath on his neck, and the warmth of his body against his. If he looked past the paleness and the dark shadows beneath his friend's eyes, Lelouch could almost fool himself into thinking Suzaku was simply resting after a tiring day. 

Asleep on Lelouch's shoulder. Curled up under the same blanket. With Lelouch's arm around him.

"I can't do this," he mused, softly.

"Why not?"

There were so many answers to that. 

His eyes caught the laptop on the table, an open file on the screen calling for his attention. 

Lloyd, Cécile and the doctor would have the test results soon. Kallen was doing field work. And Suzaku was sleeping on his shoulder.

Lelouch closed his eyes.

-

It was evening, not that you could tell from the windowless room. Nunnally's fingers smelled like the clementines she had peeled earlier - vitamin C was good against most sicknesses, she was told. The peeled fruit now sat in a bowl on the table: Suzaku had only managed to eat one.

She was back to folding cranes. It was a calming ritual, and it prevented her from thinking too much about the situation at hand. She had done everything Lelouch had asked of her: ordered discreet but efficient inspections of anything Zero could have come into contact with in the past week, asked Sayoko to go through their food supplies again, made it appear like Zero was simply out on a mission somewhere like he sometimes was. There was not much else she could do for the time being. In a way, she was also contributing to C.C's efforts to decorate Suzaku's bleak quarters. 

Lloyd, Cécile and the young doctor Lelouch had chosen had come in earlier that day, with terrifying news.

The tests were negative for every known virus, but they had found something in Suzaku's system that they were having trouble identifying.

"Scientific enigma aside, it's no good news. We're working hard on trying to find out more about it, but considering Suzaku's current condition there is little chance for a coincidence." Lloyd had concluded.

Her brother had gone pale at the information.

Suzaku himself had immediately been concerned with two things: the potential danger to the people who had been looking after him for two days now (little, and they had already been exposed at this point anyway), and her own safety, because this had to be a scheme to get Zero out of the way for a coup or something just as dangerous (but she had already limited her public appearances in light of the situation, and her security was always taken very seriously).

Although there were still many things Nunnally did not know about Suzaku, him putting the safety of others before his own was nothing new. She had, however, learned about the order her brother had given him, if not the exact implications of it, and she wondered why it was apparently not manifesting. Had Suzaku not grasped the seriousness of the situation? Did he only see the threat to her and the Black Knights, and not to his own life?

Doctor Hester had prescribed every medicine she could safely give him, hoping to slow the development of whatever was in his system, and reduce the more serious symptoms. In the meantime, all the rest of them could do was keep an even sharper eye on the young man and keep the scientists informed of any change while more tests were underway. 

Lelouch was back to being a battle leader: he was coming up with more investigations for Nunnally's teams to conduct, asking Kallen for the Black Knights' help in remembering any suspicious persons or incidents in previous meetings or missions with Zero, and frantically checking the preliminary reports on the threat letters Lloyd's team had finally sent him.

He was also watching Suzaku like a hawk. No shiver, no misstep went unnoticed. Doctor Hester had told them to watch out for fever, and Lelouch brought his hand to Suzaku's brow every time the other man so much as took too long to blink.

Lelouch was out of the room now, making arrangements with Schneizel - wearing the Zero mask he had borrowed from Suzaku. He had left several computers running, and a list of written instructions. Nunnally was sure he would be bunking in the room before long.

"Okay, I'm done. My fingers are hurting," Kallen said from the seat opposite her. They had stopped talking a little while ago, their minds busy adjusting to the recent news update. Kallen had only gotten back from a Black Knights meeting an hour ago.

"Oi, Suzaku!"

Suzaku blinked his eyes open - he had been dozing off on the couch. Kallen was taking out a couple pills from a container on the table.

"You're supposed to take these before you sleep. Get over here."

Kallen, Nunnally had learned, believed that "sitting on your ass all day" was not the most effective way to get over an illness, mysterious or not. She was not pushing Suzaku to overexert himself or anything (he looked too bad for that, Nunnally thought, and Lelouch would not have allowed it), but she did not treat him like he was made of glass, and Nunnally could tell that Suzaku was grateful to her for that. Nunnally herself was too worried not to inquire after how he was feeling a little too often.

"Thanks," Suzaku said as he reached the table, every movement careful and slow. He sat down next to them, wrapping his arms around himself to suppress another shiver. "Where's Lelouch?"

"Organizing some things with Schneizel," Kallen replied before Nunnally could find her voice. "But I bet he'll be back soon."

"Oh." Suzaku's eyes went to their handiwork as he swallowed his medicine. Nunnally forced herself to smile.

"Look," she said, holding out a handful of cranes, "Kallen and I made these!"

Kallen flushed in embarrassment.

"I was bored! There's nothing else to do here!"

Suzaku smiled at her flustered expression, and Nunnally did not regret bringing her origami paper.

-

There was something unidentified in Suzaku's blood.

There was something unidentified in Suzaku's blood.

It was everything Lelouch had been afraid of.

There was no way this was a new unheard-of disease Zero had accidentally come into contact with. Not with the mask, the costume, and how little action he saw in the aftermath of their Requiem so far. The probability was much too low. No, it was clearly a deliberate attack on Zero. 

And the attack being deadly was now a very real possibility.

Luckily, Suzaku had apparently not yet reached this conclusion, judging from the lack of red around his irises when and after Lloyd had explained the situation. As far as he was concerned, Nunnally and the Black Knights had been the main targets. 

Lelouch put down the mask he had never thought he would ever wear again. 

Someone was going to pay.

Chapter Text

"'I hate you and I hope you die,'" C.C read in a dispassionate voice, then leaned over Kallen's shoulder. "What does yours say? I was hoping for something a bit more original, here."

Kallen looked down to the sheet of paper in her hands; she winced, and started reading aloud:

"'Here is a list of reasons why you should consider throwing yourself off a bridge ASAP'," she grimaced as she skimmed over the rest of the page and turned it over. "There are fifty-seven, neatly numbered. Charming."

Suzaku kept his head down, concentrating on the familiar words in front of him as the girls scribbled down observations on their respective copies, occasionally commenting on the horrors they found in his stash of written abuse. To his right, Lelouch was taking notes in silence, lips pursed and brows drawn together.

How had it come to this again? Oh, right: he had gone and gotten himself poisoned only a year into his role as Zero, and now they were trying to fix this mess.

Suzaku focused on the message he was supposed to be reading. 'How do you live with yourself?' it was asking. He sighed quietly, resisting the urge to jot a response to that in the margin.

Lelouch had asked Lloyd's team of scientists for scans of the letters he had found in Suzaku's bedroom, so that he could at least inspect their contents while the real things were being chemically analyzed. There had been early reports, but the in-depth analysis would take longer, and some components were giving them trouble. Lelouch looked sour ever since they had gotten the news, and was already conducting his investigation under the assumption that the answer to Zero's condition lay in the threats he had received prior to getting ill. 

Kallen and C.C had offered to help. Zero's kitchen table was now covered in scanned letters, notes and half-empty coffee mugs.

Although it was technically his fault that the letters had to be examined in the first place, Suzaku had welcomed the opportunity to feel useful again. Three days off work were three too many as far as he was concerned. He had never spent so much time in his quarters before: he felt like he had seen more of them in three days than he had in a year. And while everyone was doing their best to remedy his blunder, he was forbidden from doing anything more taxing than walk from one room to another.  

God, he was pathetic.

He should have been out there, honoring the punishment Lelouch had bestowed upon him on the day they had killed each other.

(Not that he enjoyed being sick and feeling like he was navigating through a heavy fog most of the time. But there was nothing noble about being stuck at home and coddled.)

The letters, at least, he could help with. 

Lelouch wanted detailed information about each and every one of them: when he had received it, where, how, from whom - anything he could remember. And Suzaku remembered a lot about each one, to the other man's contradictory annoyance. 

The letters Suzaku had (re)read and annotated in a trembling hand were stacked in a small pile between them, and Lelouch was separating them into three smaller piles according to their level of danger; Suzaku had dubbed them the Harmless, Suspicious and Oh shit piles in his head. The young genius had also written an impressive amount of observations about every single one. Suzaku was not sure when Lelouch had last slept.

Somewhere behind the relief of finally being of assistance again, a part of him was wondering what would happen to the culprit when the former Zero found them. 

They must have had a reason for doing this.

Fingers snapped an inch from his face, and he startled with a shiver.

"Wake up," Kallen's voice said. 

Suzaku blinked at the young woman in front of him. His eyes had closed of their own accord; he did not even remember fighting to stay awake at any point, but his head had apparently been about to drop onto the table, and Kallen had a hand on his shoulder that he had not even noticed. 

He really could not wait to get back to his normal, fully functioning self. Suzaku rubbed his eyes and tried to remember what he had been working on. Information. Lelouch wanted detailed information about the letters. 

"You should go lie down if you're not well enough for this. We'll make do with what we have for now," Lelouch said, not raising his eyes from the letter he was perusing.

Suzaku shook himself awake. Anything but that.

"No, I'll help."

He picked up his pen again, and tried to focus on the text in front of him once more. Lelouch gave him a sideways glance and went back to his notes.

"This one is signed, and I recognize the name," the immortal man said, setting the missive in question on the Harmless pile. He had been working in silence so far, and Suzaku wondered if the change had anything to do with trying to keep him awake. "That man was arrested a few weeks ago, and he's not nearly smart enough to have planned anything like this."

C.C set down the letter she had been reading and followed his lead. "I've got very creative and very gory imagery in this one. I don't think we've seen enough of Suzaku's blood for it to fit. Maybe you should send it to a movie studio."
 
"Well," Kallen said with a sigh, finally putting down the fifty-seven reasons Zero should off himself. "This is depressing."

She looked drained and dejected, an expression Suzaku was not used to seeing on her face. He knew the contents of every letter they were reading: some of them, the oldest ones, almost off by heart. It was not exactly cheering material.

"Sorry," he said.

Lelouch tutted to his right. 

C.C was drawing smiley faces and flowers in the corner of her copied letter. 

"Nunnally says you should try replacing 'sorry' with 'thank you' as often as possible," she commented casually, coloring her sketches so that they covered the offending words. "Apparently it's healthier for everyone."

Suzaku was confused. 

"What do you mean, replace one with the other?"

C.C stopped drawing to explain, and twirled her pink pen on her fingers.

"For example, instead of saying you're sorry for putting us through this, you could say 'thank you for your help'. It makes you sound more appreciative of everyone's sacrifice, and doesn't draw as much attention to you or your shortcomings."

Lelouch interrupted, never stopping in his writing. 

"That's not quite how Nunnally puts it, C.C."

Suzaku's eyes slowly went over the three of them, up to their necks in vitriolic insults to find out who had attacked him and fix this whole mess. Kallen, who had come close to killing him on several occasions. C.C, Lelouch's mysterious accomplice, whom he had only gotten to know during their time as the Emperor's sword and shield. And Lelouch, his oldest, closest friend. The friend he had loved, hated, forgiven and killed. Lelouch, his chin held in his palm like he was sitting in a boring class, trying to pretend that the situation was not driving him mad.

All three, working together to help him.

But

"Thank you," he tried, bowing his head in the japanese fashion.

When he straightened back up, Lelouch had finally raised his head from his files to look at him. There was something very serious in the violet eyes.

"You're welcome," Kallen said, breaking the tension. "Now," she held up a letter to him, "Explain this one."

Most of the letters they were going through were classical threats made from bits cut out of newspapers: not this one. It was a short message, in elegant cursive handwriting, and looked more like an old poem or recipe than anything truly menacing. 'Dear Zero,' it started, 'I hope this letter finds you well'. He vaguely remembered it briefly catching his attention when he had received it, because he had not been sure what to make of it: poetry had never really been his thing. This was not the first insult he had received, nor would it be the last. 

Now that he thought about it, Lelouch had also mentioned this message during one of the three conversations Suzaku had fallen asleep to in the past two days. 

"That's recent, one of the Black Knights brought it to me sometime last week."

It was not the newest threat, nor the scariest one, but Lelouch was suddenly sitting very straight in his chair.

"When exactly?" he asked, taking out notes from the Oh shit pile, and selecting several pages filled with his own handsome handwriting.

"I'm not sure - early last week?"

"Which agent?"

"Mmh...I think his name is Marley? The one with all the piercings."

"Marlowe. Shin Marlowe." Lelouch confirmed from memory, putting aside what he had been working on and rummaging through more of his well-organized notes. "Did he say who he got it from?"

Suzaku had to concentrate to answer that one. It had been a few days already, and a lot had happened since then.

"I don't think so. But there were other letters that came with it - normal ones."

Lelouch was studying a schedule on yet another sheet of paper. "Marlowe should be off duty now," he said, "I'll ask Nunnally to call him in."

And with that he left the room to go find his sister. Suzaku could only blink after him - was the letter really that suspicious?

C.C had grabbed it from Kallen's hands and was frowning at the carefully penned words.

"I've got to admit it's unusual," she decided.

At Suzaku's questioning look, she handed him the page so he could read the words again. The paper was old and crinkled, the words written with a fountain pen; not something he was used to seeing with this type of letter. The message itself was short and vague; but unlike every other, it did not call for violence against Zero, and was not exactly a warning. The author was simply stating that something unpleasant and possibly deadly would eventually happen to Zero, and that they would rejoice when it did.

In light of the situation, Suzaku was starting to revise his judgement.

Maybe there was no threat in the words, because they referred to something that had already started.

-

Dear Zero,

I hope this message finds you well. 

Thus, when Justice finally punishes you for the tragedies you have caused, the thought of your suffering will be all the sweeter to me, as pain and agony slowly rid you of the health you unfairly possess. 

And when you realize that nothing can save you from the inevitable, I can only hope that you finally understand how much you deserve this torment, and how the spirits of the slaughtered will rejoice to see the doors of Hell open for you.

Sincerely, Death.

-

Lelouch's suspicions were proven correct a few hours later in the early afternoon, when a pale and shaking Cécile showed up to confirm that they had found an unidentified component on one letter - the very one Lelouch had singled out earlier. Every team in the labs was busy comparing it with whatever was infecting Suzaku, hoping to find common characteristics and start countering its effets.

Kallen had sent a quick text to Rivalz to let him know she was going to miss class the following day, too: this was most likely going to take a while.

She had been the one to interview Shin Marlowe: the letters had been given to him by an old lady while he was on duty guarding a meeting, and he had promised to pass them on to Zero. There had been six in total, that the old woman had claimed were from friends and family. Marlowe had given them to security unopened, and the agents had been surprised to find a threat among them during the inspection, because the five others were messages of gratitude and thanks.  

As for the woman who had given him the letters, the young guard had confessed to having a poor memory of faces, and Kallen did not expect much from the facial composite she had asked for. Nothing he remembered would be of much use to the sketch artist: old, gentle, harmless. Kallen had expressed her doubts as she reported this to Lelouch, pointing out how very convenient it was that Marlowe did not remember, and questioning the existence of any such woman. The whole thing sounded fishy, and maybe they had found their culprit faster than expected - in their own ranks no less.

But Marlowe claimed his innocence, and did not fit the profile Lelouch had drawn up from the letter and the handwriting on it. The old Black Knights leader found the story dubious, but for different reasons: if the guard was trying to throw suspicion onto someone else, why make up such an unlikely culprit?

They kept Marlowe in custody for further interrogation, but the woman became Lelouch's prime suspect. 

He was on every front after that, demanding more investigations and interrogations, and Kallen heard Zero's old voice again in the orders he gave through phones and intercoms (the Demon Emperor could not show his face to anyone). Lelouch had requested all available images and videos from the previous week of the places Marlowe had been assigned to, as well as all zones open to the public around them. It was a lot of data to go through. Kallen did not dare disturb him for anything other than the investigation at hand; his eyes were burning with something she did not want directed at her.

She was taking a much needed five minutes break, and her steps led her away from the heavy tension in the kitchenette that had become Lelouch's base of operations towards where Suzaku was sitting on the couch. He was going through some files while Arthur pawed at them; it was probably the only thing Lelouch had allowed him to help with.

The confirmation that a seemingly lovely, harmless old lady was likely responsible for his slowly deteriorating health had apparently sapped all remaining energy from him. Kallen also suspected that he was taking his security team's inability to detect the poison on the letter as a personal failure. Lelouch had pointed out, earlier, that the regular tests had failed because whatever was in his blood was something no one knew anything about yet. It had not been meant as a rebuke (how could they have noticed something that even Lloyd's teams were having trouble with?) but she had a feeling that Suzaku had taken it as one anyway.

It was painful to watch: now he was both unwell and dispirited, and Kallen found herself wanting to distract him out of genuine pity. Sometimes she was too nice for her own good.

Her eyes were drawn to the pictures pinned on the wall behind him.

"Should I feel offended that you don't have a single picture of me, there?"

C.C had been putting up more pictures on the wall. While Lelouch and Suzaku were undeniably her favorite subjects, there were a few new shots of Nunnally and C.C herself, now. There were two of Arthur. None of Kallen.

Suzaku turned to look at them. It took him a minute to get his brain to focus on something other than the papers he has been engrossed in, but it was obvious he needed the distraction, too.

"Oh. Sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "C.C takes really nice pictures, so I asked her for more. Maybe she hasn't had the time to take one of you yet." 

Kallen highly doubted that C.C did not already have pictures of her, which meant she was most likely doing this on purpose, or waiting for the opportunity to hang up a very embarrassing one.

"I can take one now, if you want," Suzaku said, moving to grab C.C's camera from the coffee table - Kallen seized the device before he could get up and fall on his ass again.

"Let me," She turned the camera to her face, stuck out her tongue for the picture, then sat heavily down on the couch when she was done. 

She looked at the camera in thought.

"I've got pictures of you guys at home, too. There's one of you, getting attacked by Arthur." 

Suzaku had not expected that, and looked a little bewildered. Kallen shrugged. She had fond memories of the times with the student council, and Suzaku had been part of them. Lelouch's Requiem had also burdened her with a tiniest bit of newfound respect for her old enemy that she was not sure what to do with. Despite her conflicting emotions where he was concerned, or perhaps because of them, he had earned his place on that wall, with the people she cared about.

"Thank you," Suzaku said awkwardly. Kallen was not sure whether it was for her picture or what she had just told him.

She watched him get back to his documents, and crossed her fingers for things to turn out okay. 

-

Lelouch was going to find that woman and force a cure from her.

He was completely convinced, now, from the steady degradation of Suzaku's health and the wording on the note, that this was way more than a simple plan to get Zero out of commission for a few days, and that they were looking at very dire consequences if they did not find a cure soon. 

Their hope relied on either Lloyd's teams finding a remedy fast, or Lelouch flushing out the culprit and forcing them to save Zero in time.

So, whether she was an accomplice or the exact person they were looking for, Lelouch was going to find that woman and force a cure from her.

His eyes were burning from the hours he had spent squinting at the various pictures and videos they had gathered since Suzaku had mentioned Marlowe earlier that very morning; it felt like days ago. Nunnally had dropped by in between two emergency meetings with Schneizel and Kanon and forced tasteless food down his throat. That had been hours ago; it had to be the middle of the night now, and they had not made much progress. 

The poisoned letter, like most of the written death threats Zero received on a somewhat regular basis, had been devoid of fingerprints. Kallen had checked the five letters that had been delivered with it, with identical conclusions. The facial composite and various testimonies had not yielded many results either. They were therefore focusing their attention on the videos and pictures Lelouch had procured, hoping to find the woman who had become their lead suspect.

It was tedious work, even with a defined time frame. And a possible, terrifying deadline.

He had tried to get Suzaku to stop helping and go rest a couple hours ago, an effort met with resistance from his Knight; luckily, Helena Hester had arrived to check on him at the right time, and sent him off to bed right away. Lelouch, surreptitiously observing his friend's eyes from afar, had been relieved to see him give up and comply. He did not want to have to chain Suzaku to a chair for fear of what his Geass order would compel him to do in such a situation, especially since he could hardly stay awake for more than two hours at a time.

C.C, after helping out with reviewing videos and reading through several reports, had also retreated to the room Nunnally kept for her. Nunnally herself had only gone to bed after carefully questioning her staff, invoking a 'possible security incident'. Kallen had stayed behind to help with the videos, and was rubbing her tired eyes discretely as she worked. 

Lelouch made a mental note to thank everyone properly when all this was over.

He had been concentrating on the same picture for a while, and the unexpected movement to his left took him by surprise. Suzaku was stumbling out of his bedroom, disheveled, his clothes rumpled from sleep. He looked very unsteady on his feet again, and gingerly made his way to the kitchen sink, a trembling hand on the wall for support. 

"Suzaku? Are you okay?"

Stupid question, his brain supplied helpfully. Maybe stress and sleep deprivation were taking their toll on him faster than he had anticipated. Stupid question or not, there was no reply; Suzaku did not even turn to aknowledge him. His hands were feeling around the sink like he could not see properly, his movements slow and uncoordinated.

Lelouch was up in a flash, and anxiously observed as Suzaku clumsily managed to fill a glass with water, draining it in a few thirsty gulps. Then he stood there catching his breath, wobbling on his feet, a vacant stare fixed on the wall beside him. 

Concern flaring in his chest, Lelouch grabbed his friend's upper arm, steadying him.

"Suzaku. Answer me."

His Knight slowly turned his face in Lelouch's vague direction, like he was trying to pinpoint the source of his voice. His eyes were unfocused. His hair was stuck to his brow with sweat. 

And his cheeks, up close in the dim light, were red. His cheeks had been worryingly pale for three days, and they were flushed now.

Lelouch swiftly raised his other hand to Suzaku's forehead. And his heart jumped in sudden, absolute panic.

"Kallen, get Hester or Lloyd in here now!"

His ailing friend had gone from no fever to extremely high temperature with next to no warning.

The doctor had instructed them on what to do in various situations, but she had evidently not planned for something like this to happen so quickly and so violently, a mere two hours after her last visit. Suzaku's pupils were dilated, he was unresponsive, and his legs looked about to buckle any second.

And - was that a flicker of...?

One thing was suddenly clear in Lelouch's mind: he had to get the fever down, fast.

Suzaku's arm was over his shoulder before Kallen was even out of the room; the glass slipped from his friend's hand and smashed on the floor in a crash Lelouch almost heard over the sudden ringing in his ears. He could feel the heat radiating from Suzaku everywhere their bodies touched. Their legs bumped into each other's as he tried his hardest to lead the unsteady man to the small bathroom, and wait - that was stupid, he should have asked Kallen to do it, Kallen was way stronger than he was - no no no, Kallen had to go get someone as fast as possible, and maybe they should have called instead, but it was the middle of the night and maybe no one would have answered, and stop it, brain, and get those legs moving. Thankfully, Suzaku could still support his own weight for the moment, which was a huge relief to Lelouch who knew there was no way he could have carried him otherwise, and thank fuck the apartment was small and they were in the bathroom now. 

Lelouch kicked the shower door open and wrestled Suzaku into the cubicle (revising, somewhere in his own boiling brain, his initial opinion of the simple room, and thanking his luck that it was not a bathtub, because getting Suzaku to climb over the side in his state would probably have ended in disaster) and tried to get him to lean against the wall; Suzaku's legs gave out. Lelouch managed to catch him under the armpits before he fell all the way, but the sudden weight was too much for him; he felt his own knees buckle and he and Suzaku both crashed onto the floor in an entangled mess. 

Lelouch's heart was beating loudly in his ears as he quickly assessed the damage: no broken bones that he could tell, no blood; just one delirious, unresponsive idiot and his terrified caregiver. He extricated his arm from under Suzaku's heaving chest and made him sit against the wall - at least the shower was not too cramped - then reached over to turn the water on.

Cold water, quick. No, wait. Could Suzaku go into thermal shock? Shit, shit. Panic was clouding his normally brilliant mind, panic like he had not felt in a long time. Lelouch knew the logical answer was there at his disposal, hiding somewhere under the stupid fucking fear. He had no time for fear, damnit. Room temperature. Room temperature was his best bet. 

Suzaku barely reacted to the water suddenly splashing his face, which was definitely not a good sign, and Lelouch grabbed his shoulders, shuddering as the tepid water started seeping through their clothes.

"Suzaku, come on, say something." 

Suzaku was staring somewhere to Lelouch's right, his eyes half-open and blinking tiredly. His mouth was slightly open in a silent question, and he looked more lost than ever. Lelouch moved his hands to his face and forced him to look his way.

"Come on, look at me. Look at me. Please."

He could see his own hands trembling on Suzaku's temples. Lelouch brushed his friend's hair from his eyes and brought their faces closer until their foreheads were touching, and he could feel the heat on Suzaku's skin even through the water cascading down their faces. Lelouch searched Suzaku's eyes for any sign of recognition, for any sign that his friend's brain was not frying yet, that the stupid idiot was still there somewhere.

He called Suzaku's name again, and again, and the mounting desperation in his voice terrified him.

Slowly, very slowly, Suzaku's eyes focused on Lelouch's face. 

His lips moved once, twice, and a faint voice, barely audible over the falling water, reached through the storm in Lelouch's ears.

"...'louch?"

Lelouch nearly choked on the water dripping down his throat as he allowed himself to breathe again.

"Yes. Yes, that's me, I'm here. Stay with me, alright? Just...stay with me."

He said it like an order, his eyes locked onto Suzaku's like he still had the Geass and could still use it on the other man. Stay awake. Stay with me.

His arms were around Suzaku before he realized it, his hands desperately clutching at the drenched sweater, his head dropping on Suzaku's wet shoulder in temporary relief. Suzaku did not react to the tight embrace; he sat unmoving in Lelouch's arms, frozen and burning hot at the same time.

"Lelouch," he said again, the word slow and slurred. "I'm cold."

Lelouch muffled a sob into his neck and turned the water off with one hand. 

Then he tightened the hug, trying to calm his breathing. 

"You're anything but cold right now, my friend."

The tepid water was still dripping down their faces and clothes when Kallen and Lloyd finally found them. 
 
Lelouch had not let go of Suzaku the whole time.

-

It took him a while to come down from the adrenaline rush.

What had happened after Lloyd's arrival was mostly a blur; the scientist had been quick and efficient, and Lelouch remembered feeling Kallen's hands on his arms at some point, gently steering him away from the shower while Lloyd worked on Suzaku. He knew his eyes had been glued to the scene, but somehow he could only recall the events in distant flashes. Lloyd injecting Suzaku with something. Kallen wrapping a towel around his shoulders. His clothes dripping onto the tiled bathroom floor as he stood there, unable to tear his eyes away from the brown-haired boy who had come to mean so much to him.

Suzaku was going to be okay, or at least as okay as he could be under the circumstances. That was what Helena had said at some point, after she was done seeing to her patient in the middle of the night. Forcing a sick person into a shower, it turned out, was not the most recommended course of action for cases of frighteningly high temperature, but she had assured him that he had not made things worse and that Suzaku would be okay for now - and Lelouch, for once, had stopped listening beyond that. As long as Suzaku was safe, and his brain had not boiled with the fever, Lelouch did not much care, at the moment, what he could or should have done better. 

Suzaku was okay. For now.

(For now) 

Lelouch vaguely remembered Nunnally begging him to go change out of his wet clothes afterwards, which he had only reluctantly agreed to do while the young doctor tended to Suzaku with Lloyd's help.

He was not sure how much time had passed since then. He was sitting in a chair next to Suzaku's bed, and Suzaku was sleeping. His cheeks were a lot less flushed, and his face was peacefully relaxed. He was just sleeping. Lelouch was holding his limp hand, over the coverlet, and watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

Nunnally's soft voice calling him from somewhere close by was what finally brought Lelouch back to the world. He blinked, slowly, to dissipate the haze he had been trapped in.

"Suzaku is going to be okay," his sister was saying, probably not for the first time. He could feel her delicate hands holding one of his gently, the one not currently holding on to Suzaku. How long had she been comforting him, he was not certain. A distant sense of guilt brushed him at the thought.

"He's going to be okay," Nunnally repeated, a beacon of hope in the storm. Lelouch let her soothing presence calm his heart. 

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of the warm hands in each of his.

Nunnally. Suzaku.

"You care about him very much," his sister said, kind warmth in her gentle voice.

Lelouch nodded, the first clear indication that he was back to his senses. He opened his eyes again and finally turned to her.

Nunnally was sitting in her chair by his side, smiling softly at him through unshed tears. There was concern on her beautiful face, but relief, too, and the bright eyes were searching his, Lelouch realized, for an answer. Maybe there had been something more to her last statement.

But the answer was the same.
 
"Yes," he said, squeezing Suzaku's hand. "Yes, I do."

Chapter Text

Suzaku's nights were not exactly plagued with pleasant dreams. He did have a few, every once in a while: playing in the sun with Lelouch and Nunnally; having lunch on the Ashford grounds with his friends; a ray of light; a glimpse of calm and serenity somewhere sunny and warm. They left him with an unfamiliar sense of peace when he woke up in the morning. But they were scarce, and precious.

Nightmares, however, were regular companions. Afternoons in the sun turned into endless treks through sunburnt fields covered in dead bodies. Peaceful days at school morphed into bloody battlefields. Outings with friends became funeral wakes.

He had nightmares about his father. 

Genbu's stern and unforgiving stare burned into him when Suzaku raised the knife; the scenery varied but the weapon was always the same, and he knew the feeling of his fingers on the handle, the slight resistance when he plunged the blade in his father's gut, the warmth of blood pooling on his hands, thick and sticky. When he looked down, there was red everywhere, spreading over the room, the shrine, the world. There was blood on his hands, on his child-sized shoes. On the dead body of his father.
 
Sometimes his mother was there. 
 
Sometimes he killed her, too. 

He had nightmares about Euphie. 

These were filled with screams, machine gun fire and the sounds of knightmares clashing. The heavy smell of blood merged with the stench of gunpowder in a toxic miasma that stung his sinuses. He tried not to disturb the corpses of his people as he ran, looking everywhere for the princess he had sworn to protect, and when he found her she was smiling, gentle and delicate, and she asked 'aren't you japanese, too?' and raised the heavy weapon and fired. 

Zero killed her; but she always died smiling in Suzaku's arms, swathing him in crimson as he lied to her face.

Occasionally, his hands were clean - but then he was the one holding Zero's gun.

He had nightmares about Lelouch. 

By far the craziest, they usually originated from authentic memories, too - a shared moment, an old conversation, an exchange of their secret hand signs - but then Lelouch would demand that Suzaku kill him, over and over. 

So Suzaku killed him, over and over.

There were guns, there were blades, there were fingers on a pale throat. There was Lelouch, guiding his hands every time.

Once, Lelouch's young, unbroken voice breathed 'I know you can do it, you killed your father, didn't you?' in the shell of his ear, intimate and terrifying.

Another time, the Demon Emperor took the bloody sword out of his chest and handed the weapon back to Suzaku, hissing 'not dramatic enough, do it again'.

Some other times, Lelouch did not say anything, because he was dead.

There were more, of course. Killing strangers. Facing their dead gazes forever in the afterlife. Lying to Nunnally. Losing Shirley. Firing the FLEIJA. Arthur dying. A new war starting. Eating Cécile's cooking. Eating Cécile's cooking during another war while Arthur lay dying. The options were numerous.

Sleep was not kind to Suzaku, and it suited him. 

This was not a Lelouch dream, although Lelouch was in it. The atmosphere was all wrong; it was too disjointed, too blurry, too new. They were too alive. 

The two of them were outside in the sun, no mask, no disguise, but they were not allowed to do that anymore. Were they younger? Older? Suzaku was certain that the presence at his side was Lelouch, but he had no clue about the rest. It did not feel important. Lelouch's hand was firm in his. 

The sun was hot on their faces.

They were walking in a grass field, so immense it extended beyond the horizon, and the grass was scorched golden. The breeze in their hair was soft, yet strong enough to drown any and all sound around them. Every step sent clouds of dust dancing at their feet. Summer had burned everything.

Suzaku stumbled when the heat haze blurred their path, but he never reached the ground. He could not tell where Lelouch was guiding them.

The sun was very, very hot.

It burned red in the sky, turning the heavens to scarlet, and the edges of the field were catching on fire, too. Flames flickered to life, eating their way through the grass and surrounding them; he could feel the burning heat licking his cheeks, and then the world was a furnace, a raging inferno pressing in from all sides, threatening to swallow them both in a cleansing, all-consuming blaze. 

Fire, everywhere. Around him, within him, burning in his veins like the sacred bird he was named after. 

The heavy, blood red clouds turned purple, then black, and suddenly a storm was upon them, blessedly cold rain on his searing skin. 

He breathed in cold fire, and Lelouch was calling out his name in the distance.

'I'm here. Stay with me.'

Lelouch's eyes were violet orbs in the night.

Suzaku woke up.

- 

The real world was dark, cold, and silent. 

He could feel cool sheets against his limbs, and a pillow, soft under his aching head. Suzaku's blurry vision slowly focused on a shadowed face, hovering over him in the semi-darkness, and he felt the gentle touch of a hand on his forehead. Warm, delicate fingers. 

"...Lelouch."

There was a sigh of relief somewhere above him.

"Welcome back," the familiar voice said, low and hushed. "The doctor said your fever should be down for a few hours, I just...wanted to make sure."

"...okay," Suzaku heard himself reply, although he had no idea what Lelouch was talking about. He tried to blink the fog out of his mind.

They were in his bedroom - Zero's bedroom. Dim light filtered in from a gap in the door that led to the rest of the apartment. He could not tell what time it was: there were no windows, and he did not have the strength to remember where the clock was. Lelouch's shadow moved to his right and turned on the bedside lamp; a soft and diffuse glow, but still harsh against his eyes. Suzaku turned his head the other way, feeling like his brain was trying to stay behind.

"Sorry," Lelouch apologized, leaving the light on nonetheless. "How are you feeling?"

'Tired', was the first word Suzaku's mind supplied him with, in bright and painful neon letters, but it sounded like a weak choice for how he really felt. Feeble. Powerless. He had never been too imaginative with words: his arms and legs mainly felt like dead weights attached to his body. The very idea of putting all this into words was tiring in itself. 

He heard movement beside him, and water being poured into a glass.

"Thirsty," he said.

Suzaku discerned a faint smile on Lelouch's face, then heard him set the glass on the nightstand so he could rearrange his pillows. He felt him sit on the edge of the bed, and with a practised ease no doubt inherited from years of caring for his little sister, Lelouch gently slipped an arm around Suzaku's shoulders to help him sit up. 

It was strange, relying on Lelouch for this, but after a brief attempt at controlling his trembling arms, Suzaku could not deny he needed the assistance. He let himself lean against his friend's arm and chest, swallowing a disheartened sigh at his apparent weakness - not a week ago, he had been doing several series of push-ups before breakfast. 

A delicate hand settled over his, helping his unsteady fingers grip the half-filled glass properly. 

"Here. Small sips only."

The water felt heavenly in his dry mouth, and helped clear his head a little. Lelouch was steady and strong beside him; Suzaku could feel some of his energy returning.

"Helena - that's doctor Hester - says you'll feel tired for a while, so take it easy. She thinks the fever is a good thing, it means your body is fighting whatever it is that's making you ill."

Suzaku sipped more water, taking in the information and trying to make sense of it. He could not recall anything out of the ordinary happening before he had gone to bed - nothing out of his current ordinary, anyway. And yet, if the chair by his bedside and the conveniently available glass and bottle were any indication, Lelouch had been sitting here for a while, anxiously waiting for him to wake up. He was also referring to his exhaustion as something that had been expected, that he had even discussed with the doctor while Suzaku was asleep. There was something he was missing, here.

"Hum...what happened?"

The surprise on Lelouch's face was only fleeting, so Suzaku guessed his confusion had also been anticipated somewhat. His friend took the glass away, and when he removed his arm, Suzaku found he had regained enough strength to sit up on his own.

Lelouch went to sit on the chair, facing him. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, looking serious.

"What do you remember?"

Green eyes narrowed in concentration: what did he remember? He had gone to bed, feeling particularly tired. That was it, there had been nothing but the strange dream after that. Right? Except...now that he thought back on it, new images were superimposing themselves over the blurry flashes from the foggy nightmare. The more he tried to remember it, the clearer they got. It was a strange feeling, like his brain was getting an update and he was witnessing the updload, frame by frame. He had been walking somewhere - obviously not out in the sun, but somewhere - and he could still feel the phantom heat on his cheeks. And Lelouch had been there, too. 

Lelouch had been there, calling out his name in a frightened voice. 

Suzaku's hand unconsciously went to his shoulder, seeking the fading warmth of Lelouch's arm around him. Had he not dreamed something similar? When he tried to recall it, the memory was not dream-like at all; it felt real, the touch as clear and solid as it had been just now.

He cleared his throat.

"There are a few things, but it's all blurred with...dreams. I'm not sure which parts are real."

Lelouch's brows furrowed.

"Tell me what you dreamed, then. I'll tell you how much of it actually happened."

Suzaku took a deep breath, and started telling Lelouch about the crazy dream where they held hands in the middle of an apocalypse.

He felt foolish, at first, at the absurdity of what he was recounting. Describing it out loud made the dream sound even weirder than it had been - and it had been very weird to begin with. But there was no judgement in Lelouch's eyes, and soon he was detailing events from the previous night to compare with what Suzaku remembered. With every new element Lelouch gave him, fuzzy memories slowly resurfaced. Most were clouded in a fog he supposed could be blamed on the fever: he really must have been quite delirious. But some details remained: a sound, a touch, the familiar layout of his quarters as Lelouch helped him walk through them. The heat on his cheeks, the water running down his face. Lelouch's eyes and voice. Lelouch's arms around him.

"You were running a very high fever," Lelouch finished, looking to the side. "I took some drastic measures."

He sounded grim, and oddly abashed. The small room was silent as Suzaku absorbed the revelation of what he had unconsciously been up to the previous night: at least now he understood why he felt so tired, even though he did not remember much about the whole adventure. In fact, if he was being honest, in spite of the feebleness of his limbs and the knowledge that the fever was likely to come back, it sounded like the night had been a lot rougher on Lelouch than it had been on him.

A careful glance at the other man only confirmed that theory. Lelouch's face was grey with fatigue, the beautiful eyes sunken in and shadowed. His stiff posture was a far cry from the elegant way he usually held himself. Even his hair looked uncared for, sticking up haphazardly from where he had most likely run his hand through it while waiting for Suzaku to wake up. His arms were crossed over his thin chest, in a vain effort to hide the way his hands clenched and unclenched. The events from last night had shaken him, and he was trying not to let it show. 

Suzaku hated that it had taken him this long to notice.  

His own fists tightened in his lap.

"I'm sorry."

Lelouch looked up, startled out of his thoughts. Wariness was quick to replace the surprise on his face, his eyes going from slanted in scrutiny to narrowed in suspicion.

"Just so we're clear...what are you apologizing for?"

Suzaku's fingernails dug into his palms. He had not planned for Lelouch to want details. But the raven-haired immortal raised his eyebrows in silent prompting, and he had no choice but to answer.

"You gave me a mission, and I'm already failing it," he confessed, looking down at his lap and wondering if the trembling in his hands could be blamed on the illness. "I'm sorry I wasn't more careful, and for putting Nunnally in danger. I'm sorry for sitting here while you wear yourselves out to repair my mistakes." His fists clenched tighter. "And now you're losing sleep looking after me on top of it all."
 
His chest was tight with several feelings. 

When he risked a glance up, Lelouch's face was unreadable, all emotion gone from his features. The former prince curled an elegant hand under his chin, and his eyelids slid shut for a few seconds as he appeared to think things through. 

The eyes that opened again were Lelouch vi Britannia's, cold and confident, and the Emperor was looking at him, chin up, every bit the man the fallen Knight of Seven had helped take over the throne, and the world.

"Denied."

Suzaku's breath caught in his throat.

"Wha-"

"I thought we were friends, Suzaku?"

This time his heart missed a beat. What? Of course they were friends. Of course they were. Weren't they? Was it a trick question? Suzaku felt a cold shiver run through him, and it had nothing to do with fever.

Lelouch's annoyed sigh stopped the dizzying thoughts before they could go further.

"The answer to this is always yes, Suzaku. We've been through too much to let go of that bond. We are friends, calm down," he said, one hand going to his temple in thinly-veiled frustration. "That's...not the reflection I was going for."  

Suzaku's heart slowed back into a normal rhythm. 

"But don't confuse everything. You're ill, and as your friend I'm worried about you. I'm not the only one, either," Lelouch went on. "Nunnally was here less than an hour ago. C.C and Kallen are in the living room, their eyes glued to surveillance recordings to find that woman and help you. Cécile came by for a while, too. Arthur is sleeping on one of your shirts, under the bed. We're worried because we care about you, not because Zero is unavailable. That's something you're going to have to accept." 

He interrupted his tirade with another fatigued exhale. 

"Don't worry, you can still be sorry about other things when this is over. And go back to being Zero, of course." 

(These were easier words to hear) 

"But..." There was a shift in his face: these were the eyes Suzaku had found last night, bright in the darkness of a storm.

"...don't apologize for being precious to us, Suzaku. I won't allow it."

The world stilled, in a way it had not when Nunnally had used the same word a few days ago. For a minute there was nothing but Lelouch, and the piercing stare Suzaku could not look away from. 

Precious. The word echoed in his head, in both siblings' voices, dancing at the edge of his mind, trying to force its way into the chaotic maelstrom that were his thoughts. Suzaku sat very still while his brain struggled with the idea, not entirely sure what to do with it. 

The violet eyes never left him, defiant and unyielding. 

Nunnally's words had been a request. Lelouch's were an order. 

Every fragmented sentence Suzaku's brain suggested as a reply sounded weak in comparison to what he was being forced to acknowledge. 

Maybe there was just nothing to say for now. Suzaku swallowed around the lump in his throat, and bowed his head in surrender - an obedient nod, or a temporary concession. He left it to Lelouch to interpret the gesture, and hoped the friendship he was holding on to remained intact after this. 

The answer to this is always yes, Suzaku.

The beating of his heart gradually stopped echoing so loudly.

He heard Lelouch stand up, and hid a wince at the sounds of cracking joints and the hiss that accompanied them. He wondered how long Lelouch had been sitting here in the dark, waiting for him to wake up. When his friend spoke again there was no resentment in his voice; only patience, and a hint of the weariness he was trying to conceal. 

"Well, I'll go tell Helena you're awake. Do you need anything?"

Suzaku let out a discreet sigh of relief, and gladly latched onto the opportunity to steer away from sensitive subjects.

"...can I get up?" he asked, wondering if the list of things he was not allowed to do had been modified since last night. "I need to use the bathroom." 

"Yes, but not for long, and with someone close by. Sorry, doctor's orders. Oh and, make sure you put these on," Lelouch said, bending down to retrieve something on the floor, "or you and I will have to deal with a certain witch's wrath."

He dropped a pair of bunny slippers onto the bed covers. 

They were bright pink.

-  

Lelouch's mind was still on their conversation an hour later, as he stood before the small group gathered in Zero's rooms, not registering their faces. He pinched the bridge of his nose, all too aware that it would do nothing to soothe the headache. 

Suzaku's self-loathing was nothing new, and frustrating enough on its own, but...

Failing the mission he had been given? Where did that put him, then? 

Lelouch's unexpected survival was a subject he had carefully avoided breaching with the new Zero, who had never pushed the issue, his face invariably hidden behind the mask.

But Suzaku thought he was failing his own mission. Did he resent Lelouch for failing his?
 
There was a polite cough from the living room. Lelouch stored the poisonous thoughts away and forced himself to focus on the situation at hand.

Around seven hours had passed since Suzaku's delirious episode. Doctor Hester had just finished seeing to her patient again, and Lloyd and Cécile had dropped by for news, so Lelouch had decided to call for a quick debrief with everyone. 

Zero's small apartment was not the ideal place for a meeting, but Lelouch was not leaving the rooms for the time being. Nunnally, Lloyd, Cécile and Helena sat around the kitchen table, and C.C had the couch to herself and her yellow plush toy: no one had dared disturb her from her lounging position among piles of printed surveillance pictures, although Kallen had probably tried, judging from the nasty look she was throwing at the witch from where she was sitting on the coffee table. Lelouch was half-tempted to go get the chair he had left at Suzaku's bedside so he did not have to do this standing up, but the bedridden knight of justice had fallen back to sleep after Helena's visit and he did not want to risk waking him up.

"So," he started, focusing on the young doctor's face. "Should we expect a repeat of what happened last night?" 

"Not to such an extreme," she replied. "But the fever will spike again, that's how they work. You can expect disorientation and confusion, especially in the evening. I've got him on fever reducers to help moderate it, but we must allow his body to fight back."

Lelouch nodded, wondering if this was something she had already mentioned last night; he hated that he was not too clear on the details, not having been in the best state of mind at the time. 

"Is it wise to keep him here?" Cécile asked, raising a timid hand in the air. "Can't you put him in a hospital room to monitor his condition more easily?"

"No," Lelouch was too exhausted to feel sorry about the harshness in his voice. "Zero's identity must be kept secret. The arrangements to secure a hospital room and personnel would take time we don't have, and arouse suspicions." He remembered Suzaku leaning against him earlier, unnaturally weak and lethargic. "It could exhaust him further, too. You and Lloyd are easily reached, and Helena here has been given a guest room upstairs. We'll simply have to be careful about our comings and goings." His eyes went back to the doctor. "Just let me know if you need anything brought over."

She nodded. A few small boxes of medical equipment had already been carried in under the cover of night. 

There was no time to second guess this decision. Who knew how long they had until-

"Any progress on your end?" Lelouch asked Lloyd. The eccentric man grimaced from where he was slouched on the table, looking tired, too.

"Not really. We've narrowed down the possibilities, but whatever this thing is, it's nothing we've seen before, and powerful." The ex-Earl scratched his head in thought. "We're lucky the security agents wore gloves. It would actually be quite fascinating if my devicer's life wasn't on the line."
 
Lelouch caught uneasy looks at the words. Cécile tried to rearrange her face into a more hopeful expression when she saw him looking her way.

"What about your investigation?" she asked the others in the room, a tad too cheerily. Lelouch's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Not too well either, I'm afraid. The various interrogations gave no results. We've sorted out the available pictures and videos matching the time criteria, but it's a slow process." 

He kept to himself the fear that they would never find anything in the images. 

His reply plunged the room further into despair. After a few more minutes of dismal exchanges of information, the scientists took their leave, getting back to their respective duties with various looks of defeat on their faces. Cécile wished everyone luck on her way out, and only Nunnally had the strength to force a smile back.

The rest of them were left in the uncomfortable silence. Lelouch finally sat down next to Nunnally on one of the vacated chairs, supporting his aching head with one hand. A hundred files awaited him on the table. He wondered if they were out of coffee yet.

His sister's voice shook him out of his drowsiness.

"Did you and Suzaku manage to talk a little? How was he feeling?" 

Lelouch avoided her eyes; he did not think Nunnally needed details on how that conversation had gone.

"He was tired, but coherent. I don't think he's fully grasped the seriousness of the situation, yet."

A loud snort came from the direction of the couch. When everyone turned to her, C.C had the grace to sit up from her position to address Lelouch.

"Do you really think he's that stupid?"

"...excuse me?"

She rearranged herself comfortably, hugging the huge yellow toy to her chest.

"It took him a while, but at this point it's very obvious his life is in danger. I'm pretty sure he knows."

The surprising words snapped him back to full awareness: he was used to C.C being cryptic, but she usually made more sense than this. Lelouch turned to Nunnally and Kallen for back up, but neither tried to correct the witch on his behalf; on the contrary, they were both staring at him, waiting for him to reply. He straightened up in his chair, taking a breath for patience. Not everyone in the room was familiar with how the power of the Kings worked, after all. And they were all exhausted.

"The Geass command I put on him is still active," he explained, as calmly as he could. "If he was aware of the situation, it would have taken over by now."

"Why?" C.C asked.

Lelouch huffed in disbelief: was he going to have to explain how Geass worked to the woman who had granted the power to him? 

"He has to live, at all costs. The order is imprinted on his mind. In all logic, if Suzaku realized he was very possibly dying, he would be combing the streets right now, in the hope of finding that damn woman, or helping Lloyd's teams find an antidote. He would be doing something concrete about it." He pointed to the bedroom. "But he's just lying there, not even trying to run!"

And Kallen, innocently, asked:

"Isn't that because he trusts you?"

Her suggestion was like a punch in the gut. Lelouch sat there, struck dumb, waiting for his lungs to resume functioning. 

What?

All eyes were on the redhead, waiting for her to elaborate. Kallen's cheeks colored at the attention, and she turned to C.C for help; but the green-haired woman just smiled, resting her head on top of her plush toy and waiting, too, for the young pilot to explain. A little red-faced still, but determined, Kallen faced Lelouch again.

"I mean, I'm no expert on this power, obviously, but Suzaku's not a complete idiot. He's got to know he wouldn't be going far in this condition. And it's not like he'd be very useful in a lab, either. If his subconscious is not too dumb, then he knows sitting still and trusting you with finding a solution is probably his only chance of surviving."

C.C let herself fall back onto the cushions with a satisfied smile.

It was a good thing Lelouch was already sitting down; he had a feeling his legs would not have carried him through this hypothesis. His mind was racing. Could Kallen be right? Was Suzaku already doing his best to survive by leaving things in Lelouch's hands? No, that was not how Geass worked. Or was it? Suzaku had managed to master his curse as the Knight of Zero, after all. And the power was tied to the victim's perception of things. Did Suzaku really, unconsciously, trust Lelouch with his life in this?

"Why don't you ask him?" Nunnally intervened. "If he really hasn't realized the danger yet, I think he deserves to know."

Lelouch stood up so fast his chair crashed to the floor, startling everyone in the room.

"No!"

His vision blurred and wavered for a second, and when it cleared Nunnally's eyes were wide with shock at his outburst. His harsh breathing was loud enough to drown out the ringing in his ears. Even C.C looked surprised. What was he doing?

Lelouch forced himself to breathe. 

In, out. 

"Sorry," he said, picking up the chair from the floor. Surprise, on his sister's face, gave way to sympathy. Lelouch sat back down and joined his hands over the table.

"No," he started again, calmer. "What if he really hasn't connected the dots yet and the order forces him to take action once he knows? What if he overpowers us and leaves to go find a solution himself?"

C.C tilted her head, sceptical.

"Sayoko stopped him on her own and that was four days ago. He's a lot weaker now." 

"But he didn't think his life was in danger then, so there was no reason for the command to take over. You don't know how it could enhance his capacities now."

The witch studied him very intently; he felt naked under the golden eyes.

"You're scared," she concluded.

Lelouch closed his eyes and tried to ignore her. Deep breaths. But she had no mercy.

"Which is it? Are you really afraid he'll leave? Or are you afraid of finding out he doesn't trust you?"

"Shut up," Lelouch hissed. He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples and tried to focus on the sound of his blood rushing through his veins.

Of course he was afraid. He was terrified that Suzaku was going to die and that there was nothing he could do about it, this time. Worse: that the slightest misstep could accelerate the deterioration of his Knight's health. If Suzaku did not know the danger he was in yet, Lelouch did not want to take the risk of telling him. 

C.C was still talking. 

"Maybe you don't want to find out he does trust y-"

"I don't want to lose him!" he finally admitted angrily, effectively shutting her up.

Because that was what it always came down to, in the end. The reason behind mistakes and miracles. He just did not want to lose Suzaku.

No one spoke in the ringing silence. When his breathing was somewhat back to normal, Lelouch finally raised his head again and found C.C's gaze still on him.  

"And you think I do?" she asked, a rare softness in her eyes.

A pang of guilt squeezed Lelouch's heart. C.C was only trying to help, in her own way. He had no enemies, here. 

He found understanding in his accomplice's eyes before she looked away, and he was not certain he deserved it. He hoped the distress on his face had been enough to convey his remorse.

Nunnally, beside him, reached for his hand and held it gently. There was hope in the smile she gave him, and Lelouch wondered where she found such strength.

"I'm afraid, too," she said. He was thankful when she did not elaborate. "But we're all going to fight this together."

Together.

Nunnally was right. He was not alone in this battle. His eyes went over the room, taking in his sister's hopeful eyes, C.C's smile, Kallen's confident nod. 

He squeezed Nunnally's hand back. It was too soon to lose hope.

-

A few hours later, when Kallen had finally gone home for a few hours of well deserved rest, Nunnally was about to do the same, and Lelouch had refused yet another suggestion that he go lie down for a bit, C.C vanished from the room.

Nunnally really should have noticed her slipping out, and Lelouch definitely should have seen it coming. But they were all tired, had a lot on their minds, and they had been working in the dimly lit room for hours, their eyes glued to computer screens.

Lelouch took a toilet break, and when he came back, C.C was no longer sitting on the couch.

Nunnally had a very good idea of where she had gone.

-

Zero's bedroom was boring, especially when Zero himself was sleeping. No windows, no books, no hidden stash of porn, no secret diary or embarrassing poems, nothing. The letters Lelouch had discovered three days ago had probably been the only interesting thing to be found in there. 

Not that C.C had time to entertain herself at the moment. She knew the room was boring, because she had invited herself in a few days ago and been sorely disappointed.

The immortal witch was lying next to the slumbering man on the bed: it was a king size, and Lelouch was an idiot for sitting on a chair earlier when there was room enough right here. Suzaku, to her right, was sound asleep. She debated slipping under the covers for maximum effect, or drawing on his face for a good laugh, but she was on a schedule: Lelouch was going to notice she was gone very soon. It was time to act.

She shifted onto her side, hooked a graceful leg over the form under the covers, and carefully raised herself up until she was crouching over him on all fours, bracing her weight with a hand on each side of him. The bed sheets were stretched taut over his body from his shoulders down: her plan was to prevent him from getting away in the very unlikely event that Lelouch's fears were founded and the live order triggered the knight into action. 

It would have been easier - and funnier - to simply sit on him: but this Suzaku sometimes lost his dinner and C.C did not want to disturb his stomach and be barfed on. 

He did not stir as she moved, and this, more than his pale face, told her how sick he was. One thing she had learned from their days in hiding before the Requiem was that the soldier in him never slept heavily. And yet he slumbered on, until a few green strands of hair started tickling his nose. C.C watched his face scrunch up in discomfort, and waited for him to wake up and notice the compromising position. 

It did not take long, and was totally worth it: the look on his face made her regret not taking her camera with her.

"Wha- C.C?"

She could not be sure the red on his cheeks was embarrassment and not fever, and it was a bit disappointing; he was not as easy to fluster as Lelouch. Suzaku instinctively tried to free himself when he realized she had him pinned, his arms jerking under the covers; but the illness had severely weakened him, and C.C was not moving, anyway. She also had a feeling his heart was not entirely in it : there was, understandably, curiosity on his face.

She had no time for sugar-coating.

"You know you're probably dying, right?"

The weak struggling stopped instantly.

"...what?"

"That poison in you. From the look of things, it's trying to kill you. You know that, don't you?"

And there was the red she had been looking for, circling the green irises. Suzaku's body went slack; but when he spoke, his voice was not the toneless drone of a Geass victim.

"Yes," he replied. He took a breath to add more, stopped. Tried again. "But I can't let it."

A smile tugged at C.C's lips. So far, so good, but nothing she did not know already. She brought a finger to his cheek, and traced his jawline. 

Now for the best part.

"Then why aren't you doing anything about it?"

There was a pause while his mind struggled with the question. And then:

"I am."

C.C leaned further towards him, her face mere inches from his. She needed the detailed version.

"Are you? Why aren't you out there, forcing that woman to save you?"

Suzaku blinked confused eyes at her.

"I don't know where to find her. And my legs will barely carry me out of these rooms. I would only die faster, leaving on a wild-goose chase in this condition." He was oddly calm as he tried to give order to his thoughts and articulate them into proper sentences, but he finally gave C.C what she had come in for.

"The best course of action is to stay here, with Lelouch. He's doing everything that can be done."

The red circles vanished.

"Lelouch is my best chance," Suzaku finished, certain.

C.C's satisfied smile widened further. There had been very little doubt in her mind that her theory was right, but it was not her uncertainty she needed to alleviate. She deposited a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Correct," she approved.

Suzaku looked adorably baffled. He was waiting for her to go somewhere with this, or at least for an explanation. C.C let him speculate for a whole minute, watching the too bright green eyes search her face expectantly, then gracefully rose from her position, getting off the bed without another word. 

She brushed a lock of green hair from her face. 

"Do you like the slippers I got you?" she asked. 

Suzaku laboriously raised himself up on his elbows.

"Wait, what's...why did you-"

C.C walked back towards the half-open door, her heels clicking elegantly on the wooden floor.

"Let's just say I've grown fond of your idiocy, and I'd be very disappointed if you were to die." 

Suzaku looked even more lost at this; C.C smiled, and regretted nothing. Ignoring his confused looks, she left the room and closed the door behind her. 

She leaned her back against it on the other side, and whispered to the shadows.

"I hope you heard all that."

Lelouch was standing right outside the room, and from what she could discern of his face, speech was a little beyond him at the moment. He settled for a shaky nod.

"Good," C.C commented. "Now go take a nap, you're worrying your sister."

She left him to his thoughts, congratulated herself on a mission accomplished, and took out her phone. 

Good deeds, among other things, called for pizza.

Chapter Text

Lelouch was in love with Suzaku. 

The notion was not new to him - not anymore. It had been the reason behind many sleepless nights and frustratingly long hours of self-analysis sometime before the first draft of his suicide plan, confusing his brilliant, analytical mind until the inevitable and untimely conclusion had finally presented itself: he was in love with Suzaku.

There was no other rational explanation to the feelings that snuck up on him at the most inopportune moments. 

Looking back, there had been signs. Various hints, glimpses into an unfamiliar part of himself that defied logic and common sense, that he had first dismissed as a very strong sense of friendship, and later as the understandably conflicting emotions towards a man who was both enemy and friend. 

But there had always been something more, he now realized. Something that made the Black Knights groan in frustration at his constant refusal to harm Suzaku Kururugi. Something that had made him loath to use his power on the pilot of the Lancelot and later made him risk everything to save the japanese boy's life. Something Milly jokingly hinted at when they were alone, and that C.C not so jokingly suggested when they were not.

Something simple, and terribly complicated, that he had unconsciously tried to ignore for months, and was consciously ignoring now.

Because back then, before the Requiem, there was no way he could have burdened Suzaku with such knowledge. Not before the grand plan, when Lelouch was already asking so much, and Suzaku kept asking for an alternative to having to kill his best friend. Not when any change to their already complicated relationship could have jeopardized everything, and given his childhood friend yet another excuse to hate himself for as long as he lived. 

Lelouch had been about to die, burying his regrets with him. Suzaku had sworn to live with his forever.

There was no way Lelouch could have told him.

And now that the situation was possibly reversed, there was no way he could tell him either. 

- 

"...Lelouch is in pain."

Kallen looked up : Suzaku's voice was a lot less slurred, and the words made actual sense, this time. She turned to where Lelouch had been sitting, taking in the uncomfortable position with a wince; the dark-haired man had fallen asleep on his chair beside the bed, arms crossed and head awkwardly angled against the nearby wall. It did look painful, and he was grimacing in his sleep.

"Yeah," she agreed, dropping her voice to a whisper and turning back to her sick charge. Suzaku was blinking slowly, trying to get his bearings. His occasional lapses into incoherence left his mind a blurry mess that visibly frustrated him, and reminded Kallen of someone else. 

Someone who was thankfully a lot better, now.

Her former enemy was pushing the covers away and pulling a pillow from behind his back, but Kallen grabbed it from him before he could get up from the bed. 

"Don't. You'd ruin his efforts. And mine."

She had walked in on Lelouch trying to stop a delirious Suzaku from leaving the room, earlier. Doctor Hester had predicted that there would be more confusion, and the current Zero had apparently been trying to go to his daily duties as if this were a normal day and he was not swaying on his feet, fighting an unknown poison in his blood. Lelouch had tried telling him that it was the middle of the night (it was not) and that today was his off day (Zero had no off days) but Suzaku only dazedly nodded to his words and kept trying to get past him - which was a problem, because the doctor had recommended that they should try to keep him as calm as possible during these bouts.

After one look at the situation, Kallen had taken over. Although her mother was better now, this was no unknown terrain for the redhead, and she knew that when all else failed, the key was distraction. So she had sat on the bed and started loudly stating that the Lancelot was shit compared to her Guren, and also cats were awful creatures. 

Distraction.

It had taken a few long seconds for the words to reach Suzaku's muddled mind, but he had finally stopped struggling against Lelouch's hold and turned to Kallen with vaguely curious eyes, peering confusedly at the woman sitting on his bedsheets and making such incomprehensible claims. She and Lelouch had managed to gently maneuver him back into his bed then, baiting him with disconnected debates about things that made little to no sense but kept him focused on Kallen's words instead of trying to leave and exhausting himself any further. 

It had taken a few more strange and nonsensical discussions, but he was finally calm and coherent again. And about time, too: Kallen had been starting to run out of topics.

She rose from the bed, silent as a cat, and with skill that would have made even Sayoko proud, delicately pushed the small pillow between Lelouch's neck and shoulder without even making him stir. She gave the dozing man a tender glance, satisfied, and went back to sit on the other side of the bed.

"Thanks," Suzaku said. His eyes were much clearer already, and he was sitting up a little straighter. She handed him a glass of water - keep him calm and hydrated, Helena had said. Kallen was not taking any chances.

She leaned back against the cushions with a sigh. Had she thought, a few days ago, that discussing videos games in his living room was strange? Because there she was now, sitting comfortably on his bed and making sure he drank his water. She had made it clear to Lelouch that she was going to help him save the idiot, and she had meant it. But she was no longer doing it for Lelouch alone. She gritted her teeth at the realization, swallowing a sliver of frustration. 

Among other things, there was still a shard of leftover resentment in her from the day Lelouch had presented Suzaku as his Knight to the world. Because she felt that the role had been hers, at some point: she had thought of herself as Zero's Knight, and by extension Lelouch's. There had been a sizeable bit of jealousy hiding behind the shock of the announcement, somewhere deep where it hurt. 

And sometimes she wondered : could she have gone through with the plan? 

She had a feeling that the answer was no. No - she would have kicked Lelouch in the balls until he gave up on the idea altogether. Or chained him up and locked him in a closet to stop him from planning his own death. 

No, she would not have agreed to the stupid plan.

But Suzaku had. And no matter how much she hated that plan, and quite a few other things about the japanese knight, she had to admit that the two friends made a team that she was not sure she and Lelouch could ever have matched. 

She found herself wondering at their strange bond, not for the first time. Suzaku was still watching Lelouch, his eyes unreadable.

"What happens after we save you?" she heard herself ask.

The confusion on his face was back, but this time it was not the fever.

"What do you mean?"

"What happens once this is all over and you're well again? I mean, you've got the best team ever working their asses off to save yours, here. There's no way you're dying to that shit," she bragged, with all the confidence she could fake at the moment. Her best rival dying was not an option she really wanted to consider, anyway. They were going to save him. "So what happens once everything is normal again? Do we go back to pretending you and Lelouch are as dead as the world believes?"

It took him a few seconds to reply. Maybe that was a bit much for his tired brain.

"That would be the wise thing to do, yes," he finally answered, in a much too serious tone for her taste.

Kallen made a face. 

"Yeah, well. Wise is boring."

From the corner of her eye, she was pretty sure she caught him smiling. 

Maybe in a peaceful world, they could be friends, too.

-

The problem, Lelouch thought, was that Suzaku was a lot more honest when he was not lucid.

He did not speak much in his exhaustion so far, and what he said was not always intelligible, but when he did there was no filter to the words that came out. Suzaku's self hatred was painful enough to deal with on its own, but hearing the japanese man himself put it into actual words was something Lelouch had not been ready for. 

There was nothing much he could do about it, either: Suzaku did not appear to hear him when he tried to intervene, nor did he remember much about his delirious phases after they were over. So there was nothing to do but listen as his friend blamed himself for everything that came to his fevered mind, from understandable regrets to absolutely insane rationalizations. 

It was heartbreaking, and it was fascinating. And Lelouch had no right to look away.

During one such episode, a few hours after Kallen's intervention, Lelouch was helping Suzaku drink from an unsteady cup when the younger man turned unfocused, too bright eyes towards him, searching his face as much as his confused brain could, and ugly disgust suddenly marred his exhausted features. 

"Why do you bother?" he spat. 

Lelouch felt his heart break into a million little pieces, and the silent answer burned the back of his throat.

-

Through the challenges that life had thrown her way, Nunnally had learned, among other lessons, that hope was a battle. A feeble flame, braving storms and hurricanes, that despair constantly tried to extinguish - an ember, defiant and beautiful in the darkness, that you had to protect with your everything and feed with every good thing you could find in the world.

Fate had tried to strip the young woman of everything dear to her; Nunnally had lost her mother, her sight, her ability to walk. But through it all, she had held onto other treasures : her life, her heart, her brother. She had learned how to find hope in the darkest places : that was where, she knew, it burned the brightest.

But darkness was threatening, and it was getting harder and harder for her to find the spark of hope in everyone's eyes.

Lelouch, especially, looked worse with every passing minute. There was a new shadow in her brother's eyes, different from the torture of having to watch his best friend fade away before him, that weighed heavily on his heart and had not been there the day before. 

Nunnally did not know what had happened, but she was certain she knew whom it concerned.

They had to save Suzaku, and fast. The alternative did not bear thinking about. 

But hours passed, and they were no closer to finding a cure to the poison that was slowly taking her friend's life.

Nunnally's most powerful weapon against the darkness, her own way of protecting hope, was her smile. Her waltzes with despair had taught her its true value and its power in the face of adversity.

So she smiled, shining her own light in the storm they were facing.

She smiled for Suzaku, she smiled for her brother. 

And she smiled for herself.

-

Why do you bother, he had asked.

Why do you bother?

The words had frozen Lelouch's world into a looping nightmare where the only sound was Suzaku's voice, full of loathing and revulsion, asking the same question over and over. The words echoed in his head, eating away his concentration at a time when he needed it most.   

Nunnally was with Suzaku now, and he could hear them talking softly through the door. It should have been soothing, but it was not; the sound of Suzaku's voice only brought back the memory of their earlier interaction and the words came back, again and again, to haunt him.

Why do you-

"Pizza?"

C.C was dangling a slice in front of his nose. It took Lelouch a few seconds longer than usual to process this information.

"No. Thanks."

She shrugged and ate the slice herself. 

"Are you trying to make yourself sick so you finally have an excuse to join him on his bed?"  

Lelouch groaned. His refusal to sit on Suzaku's bed instead of the chair next to it had become a recurring joke between C.C and Kallen. The girls had both taken to sitting next to Suzaku whenever they went to check on him, and they rolled their eyes everytime they found Lelouch sitting on the chair. 

So what if he was considerate enough not to disturb a sick person while they were resting? He had been raised a prince, thank you very much.

"Can immortals even get sick?" he asked, getting back to the files he had been trying to focus on and only just managing to hide the bitterness in his voice.

C.C licked her fingers and plopped down on the couch next to him, resting her bare feet on his knees and only narrowly avoiding the documents he was balancing on his lap.
 
"You could starve yourself until you can't properly function I guess. Not that I've ever tried, because that would be a stupid thing to do." 

He took her raised eyebrows as the emphasis on "stupid" it probably was.

"I'm fine," Lelouch replied, hoping to end the conversation and get back to his work.

"No, you're not."

C.C's tone was oddly grave, and her expression uncharacteristically serious when he turned to look.

"Fine," he conceded, "I'm exhausted and worried. I'm also trying to fix this, so if you don't mind..." 

He gestured to the files before him and started annotating the first one.

"Why don't you just tell him?"

Lelouch's pen stopped on the paper.

C.C had been in the room, earlier, during Suzaku's depressing monologue. She had caught Lelouch freezing in shock at the question.

(Why do you bother?)

There was not much point trying to hide the truth from her. There never had been, really.

"I told you. I don't want to make things worse."

"You're in love with a suicidal idiot who might be dying already, how much worse could things get?"

He had to snort at this, and nastily so - things could always get worse, especially where he and Suzaku were concerned. Lelouch knew exactly how worse things could get at this point - he had waking nightmares about it. What if he damaged their relationship again, and spent the rest of his life blaming himself for it? Worse, what if Suzaku spent the rest of his life blaming himself for it? What if Suzaku refused to talk to him altogether afterwards? What if the shock of it contributed to worsening his health? What if-

"What if he dies tomorrow?"

The files on Lelouch's knees crashed to the floor - the horror of the thought had brought him to his feet in an instant.

"What?"

C.C looked up at him, calm and collected, like she had not just suggested the worst.

"You know it's a possibility. We're running on suppositions as far as this poison is concerned. There's no way to be sure he'll still be alive when you wake up tomorrow."

The awful vision was there before he could stop it, clear and much too real : opening the door to Suzaku's room and finding him cold and still, the green eyes forever closed, his skin pale and his chest unmoving, while Nunnally looked up at him with tears in her eyes and-

"You think you're still in control, that you've got enough time left to prepare and organize anything. But what if you don't?"

The witch's words came to him as if from a great distance, and all he could see, in his mind's eye, was the terrifying image of Nunnally sobbing on Suzaku's lifeless corpse - his oldest, most precious friend, lying dead before him, forever silent, forever gone, his face cold under the cascading tears of his little sister.

What if Suzaku died tomorrow?

Lelouch blinked, reality slowly coming back into focus. He was still in Zero's small living room, standing before the couch where C.C was sitting. His eyes were burning, staring at the wall before him, instead of the horrible scene he had been picturing in his mind.

Suzaku was still alive.

For now.

As his vision slowly unblurred, he caught sight of one of the pictures C.C had stuck to the wall, a few days before. It was the one where he and Suzaku were sitting together on a couch in Pendragon, close enough to bring heat to his cheeks whenever he looked at it. 

He remembered that night. The two of them, peacefully asleep together after an entire evening of planning, side by side on that couch. Lelouch's head resting on Suzaku's shoulder, their arms so close it looked like they were holding hands in their sleep.

Only a few weeks before the greatest plan Lelouch had ever come up with was put into action.

Before his Requiem.

The words came out as a whisper as he remembered.

"I was prepared to go to my death without ever telling him."

C.C grabbed her old yellow plush toy from where it was sitting in a corner of the couch.

"Ah, but this is not about your death anymore. It's about his."

And that changed everything.

C.C brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and pressing the toy close to her chest. 
 
"Immortality is forever, Lelouch. Pick your regrets carefully."

-

Nunnally was the one who found it.

She nearly screamed at the discovery, drawing everyone's attention to the picture in her hand. Kallen was the first to reach her and peer at the paper: there, in a corner, several times magnified and heavily pixelated, was the blurry image of a hunched figure, matching the limited description of the woman they were looking for.

"Is that her?" Kallen asked hopefully, squinting to make out details. "Well done, Nunnally!"

The red-haired pilot felt the tension ease from her shoulders - finally, some good news. 

She saw more than heard Lelouch, to her right, take a trembling breath as he, too, tried to find hope again in the blurred pixels his sister was pointing to. But there were no congratulatory words, which did not bode well - when Kallen turned to him, his face was rapidly losing color. Surprised, she tore her eyes away to give the picture a second glance, suddenly aware of the tension growing around them at Lelouch's obvious lack of relief. She could distinguish an old woman walking with what looked like a basket on her arm - but...but that was it. That was it. There was not much else to go on except the clothes she was wearing and her vague appearance. Her face was turned away from the camera, and she wore some sort of hat on her head.

It was not very helpful at all.

Lelouch, with his genius skill, was going to find a valuable detail on that picture, any minute now. He was going to find something to finally get things going. 

But her old commander's face was turning the color of ash, and despair was creeping up in his violet eyes. He was desperately examining the photograph before him, frantically trying to find a clue, a hint, anything to help. 

And he had nothing.

Kallen felt her heart drop.

"Well," C.C said in the tense silence. "That's almost too easy."

Kallen saw her own shock mirrored on Nunnally's face - Lelouch, on the other hand, was downright horrified. He stared at C.C uncomprehendingly, breathing fast, his eyes bulging.

But the witch had not been sarcastic, and she quickly raised one palm up in a calming gesture, not giving him time to be offended.  

"Calm down," she said in a composed voice, drawing his attention to the picture again with one finger on the woman's head, "and look closer. We've seen that before. That's the dead d-"

"-the dead duck hat," Lelouch finished breathlessly, hand going to his mouth in realization.

Kallen exchanged a confused glance with Nunnally, reassured to find that she was not the only one to whom these cryptic words did not mean anything. 

"The...what?" Nunnally asked carefully, worry visible in her bright eyes. 

Lelouch pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep, calming breath. Kallen took the opportunity to remember that she had to breathe, too.

"I know who that woman is, and I know where to find her."

-

It seemed like such a long time ago, now. Had it only been a few days since he had run back here at the news that Suzaku had taken ill?

He and C.C had been visiting a village, that day, somewhere far in the country, trying to find clues and testimony on an unsolved case he had picked up from the police servers to occupy his bored brain. They had met a few polite, cheery villagers, and nothing about that place nor its inhabitants had seemed out of the ordinary. Not that it should have stopped his investigation - he had simply put the case on hold after Nunnally had texted him with the news that Suzaku was unwell.

Lelouch remembered looking through the pictures he had procured of all of the town's inhabitants, later, while Suzaku was sleeping on the couch. Among them was the picture of an old woman who looked like a very inoffensive old lady, the type of person one would find knitting on a worn chair, growing vegetables in her garden or gossiping about her grandchildren with the neighbours. 

Or writing poems on old wrinkled paper, in elegant cursive.

She looked nothing like a troublemaker. But that was often the case, wasn't it? First rule of detective fiction - beware the nice ones.

He remembered C.C unhelpfully pointing out how her hat looked like a dead duck.
 
Lelouch could have kissed his old accomplice, when he realized. That dead duck hat was now their best clue to finding the woman, and making her fix this mess. 

It was a bit disconcerting to think that the person likely responsible for Suzaku's condition had been right there under their nose all this time - and even stranger still that Lelouch and C.C had been but meters away from her house only a few days ago. What were the odds? That case had to be linked, somehow, to the attempt on Suzaku's life. There were many things left to clarify, but at least they were finally making progress.

The number one priority, still, was to catch their suspect so they could do something, at last, about the poison running in Suzaku's veins.

Hopefully, she had not left the village yet. Unlikely, Lelouch knew, but he was going to take the chance. At least he knew where to start now, and he had a name and a face to put to their enemy: that woman was not escaping him. He had already gathered all the information he had on her, and come up with several plans and options to draw her out of where she could be hiding. His brain had been in overload for the past hour. 

There was no time to waste. Kallen and C.C had left to pack the necessary supplies and would be here in a minute. He never even had to ask.

All that was left was for him to make a decision, and he was facing a horrible dilemma.

Did he want to go back there himself to make sure they caught that woman? 

Yes, absolutely. 

Did he feel comfortable leaving Suzaku at this time, at the risk of losing him while he was away? 

Absolutely not.

There had to be a logical choice. There was a logical choice. And maybe this was why Lelouch's brain was drawing a blank, because-

What if Suzaku died tomorrow?

"Lelouch."

There was a hand on his shoulder, suddenly, steady and strong - C.C was there, dressed for travel and ready to leave. Kallen came up behind her as he watched, a backpack slung over her shoulder. He had not even heard them come in.

"We're ready to go," Kallen said, cautiously making no mention of the way he had started at C.C's touch. "I've got your files with me and we're taking a few members of my team for safety. Anything else?"

Lelouch hesitated. There was no rational reason to stay here. He was no medic, his presence at Suzaku's bedside was not going to change anything to his condition. He was a strategist - his role was to oversee operations, calculate probabilities on a fighting field, make sure the enemy was caught and dealt with.

But what was the point of getting Suzaku an antidote if his friend died before Lelouch could give it to him?

"Lelouch?"

Kallen exchanged a quick look with C.C when he did not answer, and dropped her backpack against the wall. She walked up to where he was standing, too, and looked at him very seriously.

"We'll be in contact as much as we can. I'll call if anything goes wrong, and you can give orders from a distance, just like old times. We'll bring her back to you, I swear." 

She was searching his face for something, a confirmation he was not aware she needed.

"Don't you trust us?" she asked.

Her question brought him back from the fog he had been lost in. He looked at them, his accomplice and his captain, and realized that the logical answer to his dilemma was standing before him.

Because of course he trusted them.

He put a hand to Kallen's shoulder and locked eyes with her, earnest.

"Bring her back to me," he said. "Please."

- 

Lelouch was acting strangely. Suzaku may have been sick, and there may have been times when his mind blurred and became confused, but he could still tell that something was bothering his friend. Lelouch avoided his eyes when he was in the room, and he did not talk as much as he usually did. There was something on his mind, and Suzaku wondered what it was - or he did when he could focus long enough.

Kallen and C.C had left, that much he knew. They had gone to get the woman who had poisoned him. He was not sure he wanted to know what exactly was planned after that. He was a bit too tired to think, anyway. He was so sick of staying in bed all the time. 

"Don't die," Kallen had told him before leaving.

C.C had said: "Take care of the other idiot."

He had thanked them for what they were doing, he thought. He was not sure.

Nunnally visited him often, and she smiled when she tried to get him to drink or eat something. He tried to, to make her happy.

Lelouch was there a lot, making sure he took his medicine and adjusting his bed covers so he would not be cold. He helped him change out of his clothes, too, when they got too sweaty from the fever. Sometimes Suzaku woke up with a different shirt on and did not remember changing into it. Sometimes he remembered talking through the night, too, but had no idea what he had said. Nothing fun, he guessed - Lelouch always looked somber afterwards.

Suzaku did not like that he did not remember things.

Lelouch sat on the bed with him, because he said it was easier to keep an eye on him that way and make sure he did not throw off his covers when he slept. Suzaku did not care what the reason was. Lelouch did not need a reason to sit on his bed.

He was here now, sitting beside him. Reading something, notes he had brought in from the living room. He looked very serious, and he was so focused it looked like he was not moving.

Suzaku brought his hand up and put it to Lelouch's chest, making sure there was a heartbeat.

There was.

"I thought you were dead," he said, and Lelouch looked at him like he wanted to say something, but he did not.

So Suzaku laid his head back down, his hand gripping the fabric of his friend's shirt, and fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart.

- 

The wait was excruciating.

Lelouch knew exactly how many hours it would take C.C and Kallen to reach their destination (too many), and they had only left a little while ago, but it already felt like an eternity since their departure.

Suzaku had gone through another delirious episode not long after they had left. 

He had been restless again, constantly trying to get up but hardly aware that he was too tired to actually do so. His very uncoordinated limbs and many failed attempts had resulted in Lelouch joining him on the bed so he could more easily keep a firm grip on his arms and stop him from trying to leave all the time. Suzaku was so weak at that point that Lelouch's hands on his wrists were enough to restrain him, but what he lacked in strength he made up for in determination, and it had taken a long while for him to stop struggling. When his energy had finally failed him, he had fallen back against Lelouch's side, leaning against him for support as he caught his breath.

And then he had started talking.  

The crux of Suzaku's discourse, once again, was that he was a disgrace and deserved to be punished. To Lelouch's chagrin, he spoke clearly and intelligibly. There was no room for argument, because it was not a dialogue. And he was not stopping, no matter how many times Lelouch tried to get him to lie down and sleep. So, not for the first time since Suzaku had gotten ill, Lelouch had given up trying to argue, biting his tongue as he was forced to listen to the hateful words. Throughout his speech, Suzaku remained weak and lethargic against him, his head resting on the older man's shoulder for support. Occasionally, Lelouch dabbed at his friend's face with a wet towel from a basin they kept by the bed, hoping the other man's temperature would eventually go down and he would be coherent again.

But the higher Suzaku's fever rose, the more he talked.

In an attempt to keep him comfortable, Lelouch had eventually interrupted him and offered to help him change out of his clammy pajama top into a clean one, disrupting the discourse for a few welcome minutes. Suzaku's cheeks were horribly flushed, his hair damp, but he was sitting somewhat steadily and complying with the task, for which Lelouch was grateful. The former Zero had tried not to overthink anything as he adjusted the shirt on his friend's shoulders, frowning at the way Suzaku allowed him to move his limbs without making much of an effort. Afterwards, the sick man had simply slumped back against Lelouch again, settling back into his previous position like this was where he belonged.

And resumed talking. 

He talked about Euphie, tormenting Lelouch's heart for agonizing minutes. He talked about the other Knights of the Rounds. He even talked about C.C a little, wondering at the witch's immortal status for a while. 

He talked about Shirley. Lelouch learned that she and Suzaku had talked a little the day she had been killed, and he felt a great pang of loss again as he tried to reconstruct the discussion from the bits he heard from Suzaku. 

Shirley had been too good for this world.

An hour into the lecture, when Suzaku's condition showed no sign of improvement and Lelouch was starting to panic, he had called Helena and asked for something to make the fever drop. 

His knight had fallen asleep quickly after that, and Lelouch had not left the room since.

(In between two exhausted naps, Suzaku had put the palm of his hand to Lelouch's chest and held onto him until he had fallen back to sleep, curled up against his side. Lelouch had not dared move.)

When Suzaku woke up again, a few hours later, he was calm and rational. 

Maybe for the first time in a while, Lelouch and him had a normal discussion, side by side on the bed. They were sitting very close together again - Suzaku had sat up with a wince upon waking, and simply let his exhausted limbs fall against Lelouch's side again. They talked about trivial matters, easy things with no consequences. Arthur's cat habits. Milly's career. C.C's choice of decoration for the room (there was a huge poster of Cheese-kun on the wall, wearing the Zero cape for some reason).

It was a welcome intermission after such a dismal few hours, and he treasured the feeling of a lucid Suzaku resting his head lightly on his shoulder. 

But Suzaku's earlier words were still echoing in his mind.

Lelouch had gone to his death hoping, against all evidence, that gifting Suzaku with a new purpose as punishment for his crimes would slowly, slowly, gnaw at the barriers he had built around himself until he had no choice but to allow some light in. Nothing much, and not before many years had passed, but Lelouch had hoped, foolishly, that Suzaku would eventually find some sort of peace in the end, in one form or another. 

It was too early for anything to have changed much since Zero Requiem had taken place, but Lelouch had not expected Suzaku's self hatred to reach such incredible heights still, in light of the fate he had promised him. 

He was glad, for once, not to have died that day, because at least he could try to do something about it.

"Suzaku," he said, during a lull in their conversation.

The brown haired man at his side turned clear, focused eyes his way. Lelouch was grateful to see that he was alert for the time being.

"Yes?"

"Do you still want to die?" 

Suzaku was visibly surprised by the question. He did not immediately answer, and Lelouch chose to take comfort in that. His friend's eyes turned away from him and gazed into space.

"I can't die. You gave me a more fitting punishment. Someone needs to make sure that peace survives." 

"But you're not answering my question." 

Lelouch felt him tense against him, taking a long breath and letting it out very slowly. Suzaku did not want to have this conversation.

Lelouch insisted. 

"Is my Geass the only thing keeping you alive right now?" 

Suzaku's lips thinned. Maybe this was not the best time for serious ponderings. 

But Lelouch had to know. 

"Su-"

"Why do you care so much?"

Lelouch's heart clenched painfully. There was no disgust in the words - only fatigue and resignation. The hatred Suzaku felt against himself did not show on his face, this time. But Lelouch was pretty certain that his friend had just asked him the lucid, polite version of the question that had been haunting him since the previous night.

Why do you bother?

Like the other times before, the words sent a shiver down Lelouch's spine.

But the answer had always been there, and he found that he did not want to keep it to himself anymore.

He brought his hand to Suzaku's forehead, his fingers softly brushing the brown locks away from his face, finding his skin warm but not alarmingly so. As Suzaku turned to face him, puzzled, Lelouch let his hand slide down the younger man's cheek in a tender gesture. They were still sitting very close together, and Suzaku's eyes, blinking in confusion, were only inches from Lelouch's own as the former Emperor gazed into them, hesitating.

"Lelouch?"

"I'm making sure you're coherent," he said, their breaths mingling.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm fin-"

"Good." 

Lelouch closed the small distance between them, bringing their lips together.

It felt good, finally bridging that gap. Suzaku's lips were warm with fever, dry, and parted in surprise at the unexpected connection. 

Lelouch was used to being on the receiving end of such kisses, but this one was his choice, his decision. The command of his heart. 

The kiss was quick, tender but brief, a statement more than anything. 

When Lelouch pulled back, Suzaku's green eyes were wide with questions. 

Lelouch looked straight into them, confident and certain.  

"There's your answer," he said.

Chapter Text

Stop. Take a deep breath, go back to the last save point.

A week ago, before he had gotten himself poisoned like an amateur, Suzaku could almost have said that balance, or something resembling it, had finally been restored to the chaotic disaster that was his existence. After the Requiem, there had been a stability to his days that he had not known since that fateful day, years ago, when he had picked up his father's knife and plunged his own life into complete disarray. 

Lelouch's plan, terrible as it was at its core, had finally granted Suzaku the punishment he had been denied for years, and given his life a new purpose. For the first time in nearly ten years, after all the mistakes and tragedies, everything was in its proper place again, and everyone was where they should be. 

Those who had survived, at least. 

(Lelouch himself was the exception, alive when he should have been dead. And Suzaku's gratitude for it was a secret he had kept from the resurrected youth, the one piece of selfishness the new Zero had allowed himself.) 

Yes; until a week ago, there had been a careful and precious equilibrium to the world Lelouch and him had built together. 

But now Lelouch was kissing him, tipping the scales in a direction Suzaku had forever barred himself from. 

He would have given a lot, really, for those few seconds to be a dream, for the way the fog in his brain had suddenly cleared to be imaginary. Had this been a dream, Suzaku could have forgotten about the why's, and the why not's, and lost himself in the moment, where there was only Lelouch, unexpected and tender, bringing their lips together and turning the world into nothing but the two of them. Had this been a dream, he could have ignored the terrifying number of contradictory emotions and thoughts he could feel emerging, and followed the unexpected euphoria in his heart to a blissful conclusion he did not deserve.   

He had not been ready for such an answer to his blunt, half-rhetorical question. He had never even dared hope for anything like it.

But this was not a dream, and Suzaku was not delirious, either: Lelouch had checked, before he had leaned in. This was the real world. 

And in the real world, Suzaku had made a promise.

"Lelouch," he forced out, carefully removing the other man's hand from where it had settled on his shoulder. "...you can't do this."

Lelouch let his hand fall away from Suzaku's fingers, like a puppet's cut from its strings. Both gazes locked on it for a while, in the silence of a heart breaking. When Suzaku dared to look up again, there was a resigned smile on Lelouch's face. Staring into the empty space between them, the older man looked hurt but unsurprised.

"Why not?" he still asked, in a strangely soft voice.

The question took Suzaku by surprise. Zero Requiem had been Lelouch's plan, his idea for a better world: he knew every implication of it. Explaining himself felt like a horrible formality to Suzaku, a heart-wrenching confirmation to something he had not realized needed confirming. 

He did not want to blunder his way through the answer, nor make a mess of things by using the wrong words - so he used Lelouch's instead.

"You will no longer live your life as Suzaku Kururugi," he started quoting. "You will sacrifice your happiness for the world. For eternity."

Lelouch's shoulders slumped in defeat at the sentence, the dejected smile frozen on his face. He sat there in silence, his eyes lost somewhere on the bedsheet pattern.

"I accepted your Geass, Lelouch."

"You did. And I accepted my fate."

"You said-"

"I know what I said, Suzaku. I was there." Lelouch cut in, the softness in his gaze at odds with the briskness of the interruption as he turned back to Suzaku. Their eyes met for the briefest moment before Lelouch looked down, staring at his hands helplessly. 

"Sometimes," he said, "It feels like my greatest enemies are the words that come out of my own mouth."

The words froze Suzaku's insides. There was something he should say to that. A question he should ask. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, instead.

His mind was racing, impossible thoughts adding to the illness-induced dizziness, suddenly back full force at the most inopportune moment. It was his turn to look away in the awkward silence, tearing his eyes away from Lelouch's hopes and dreams. Through the low buzzing insidiously invading his ears, he heard a soft sigh.
 
"No, I'm sorry," Lelouch countered, and the trembling in his voice was almost unnoticeable. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have told you this, not now, when you're unwell." He passed a hand through his unwashed hair, frowning in surprised disgust at the sensation, and crossed his arms over his chest. The latter gesture was familiar, but the subtle meaning was not lost on Suzaku. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable," Lelouch went on, his face schooled into the pleasant business expression from his student council days. "Not now, of all times. Can you forget about it, for now? It doesn't have to change anything." 

Suzaku actually felt his jaw drop at the suggestion. Forget it, huh. Lelouch must have been as exhausted as he was to think, even for a moment, that this was something remotely doable.

"...I don't think I can forget something like that, Lelouch." He answered with an incredulous chuckle, smiling up at Lelouch in an attempt to help diffuse the tension in the room. 

Lelouch's cheeks colored as he realized the absurdity of his request, and he rubbed the back of his head in sudden embarrassment.

"I mean...can we just go back to how things were before? I don't want this to make it so awkward between us that I can't be there for you when you're in this condition."

The mere idea of Lelouch distancing himself from him at such a time made Suzaku almost nauseous with apprehension.

"Of course," he replied quickly. "I don't think I could make it through without you by my side, anyway." 

Holding Lelouch's gaze as he said this, right after turning him down, was neither easy nor painless - but it was the honest and humble truth. 

Lelouch, for once, had trouble finding his words.

"Right. I mean - thanks," he said, clearing his throat. Color still high on his cheeks, he pretended to check his watch on the wrong arm, and Suzaku did not miss the way his eyes carefully avoided his as he made to get up from the bed. "Well, it's almost time for Nunnally to take over. I'll go get her. Try to get some rest, you need it."

Suzaku nodded, his spirits low. He had not planned to hurt anyone's heart today, especially not Lelouch's.

His oldest friend got up, straightened his clothes, and went to the door. Before he left, though, before he even turned the handle-

"Suzaku."

"...yeah?"

Suzaku heard him take a breath, his back to him.

"Thank you."

"...what for?"

Lelouch took a few seconds more to gather his thoughts, his face to the door and hidden from view. When he turned back, there was a sincere, unexpected and beautiful smile gracing his features.

"For putting me in the 'happiness' category."

(You will sacrifice your happiness for the world)

Suzaku's breath caught in his throat. 

He had been so focused on the obstacle his promise presented that he had never even stopped to question the reciprocity of Lelouch's feelings.

Lelouch was out the door before Suzaku could stutter anything in response.

- 

For the first time in days, Lelouch retreated to his own rooms to rest, and he was gone for several hours.

-

For the first time in days, it took Suzaku a very long time to fall asleep.

- 

Nunnally winced and brought the tip of her finger to her mouth. Was she really so distracted that she had managed to give herself a papercut from folding origami paper? Giving up for the evening, she put the material away and looked to her right, where Suzaku was finally sleeping.

It was easy to tell that something had happened between him and her brother, earlier. Lelouch had come to fetch her almost an hour in advance - a sure sign that something was wrong - looking shaken and distracted. He had dismissed her concerns with a half-hearted smile, pretexting a simple headache and leaving to take a nap so he would be ready for when Kallen and C.C came back with their prisoner. Nunnally had pretended to believe him, and Lelouch, in turn, had pretended to fall for it. 

They both knew he needed the rest.

When she had reached Zero's bedroom, Nunnally had found Suzaku lost in thought, his eyes vacant and fixed on the wall, and it had taken him a few long seconds to return her greeting. He, too, had claimed exhaustion and quickly laid back down to sleep - or pretended to.

Nunnally had some idea of what they could have been discussing. But they would tell her about it only if and when they felt the need to, and she would be there for them both no matter what happened.

As she observed the man who had become her protector, it soon became apparent that Suzaku's sleep was no longer peaceful, and that he was caught in the throes of a nightmare. His brow was furrowed, his teeth clenched, and he was grimacing in his sleep. 

Nunnally knew a lot about nightmares. She knew how it felt to be powerless and terrified, a frozen spectator to the horrors your mind could conjure up and torment you with. She knew how it felt to relive the worst memories over and over again, trapped in a past that you could not escape nor change, only suffer through - to wake up in a panic, drenched in sweat and out of breath, confused and lost until you remembered that yes, the nightmare had been real, once.

She knew all about those.

Suzaku started twitching and then thrashing weakly, and when she noticed tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, Nunnally decided that it was time to wake him up. 

It was not the wisest idea she had ever had, and the mere mention of it would probably have given Lelouch a stroke. Suzaku was a trained soldier - a particularly efficient one at that - and approaching him while he was stuck in what looked like a terrible nightmare was bound to be risky. But she refused to let him suffer like this if there was anything she could do about it.  

She trusted him not to harm her, anyway.

Before she could get closer to the bed, though, Suzaku suddenly sat up with a terrified gasp, putting a stop to her musings. Swaying unsteadily, he tried to lean back on his elbows but his limbs failed him and he fell back, wheezing, against the cushions. The tired green eyes searched the room until they fell on its only other occupant, and then Suzaku looked away, abashed.

It hurt, seeing him in such a way, ashamed of his own weakness, his laboured breathing the only sound in the otherwise quiet room. Nunnally swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"Are you alright? You were having an awful nightmare."

Suzaku's breath slowly settled, and he brought an unsteady hand to his forehead, shielding his eyes partially. The movement dislodged a few strands of hair, making him look younger than he was. Sometimes Nunnally forgot that her brother and his best friend were only a few years older than her, barely adults. 

Laboriously, Suzaku managed to sit up again, leaning against the many pillows at this back. The action alone looked like it cost him a worrying amount of energy.

"...yeah," he admitted. "It was, er..." Suzaku blanched as he recalled the illusion he had been caught in, and quickly put on a facade smile for her sake. "I'm okay, now. Thanks, Nunnally."  

He was not, not by a long stretch. Although the japanese man hid many secrets, Nunnally knew that there were enough horrors in Suzaku's past to fuel nightmares for many years. 

And she knew how it felt, because her own nightmares had a whole history of traumas to choose from.

Suzaku was only trying to shield her from his pain.

"I have nightmares too," she confided softly, before she could stop herself. 

Suzaku's eyes widened, and it was easy to identify the moment he remembered. Nunnally was used to looking for it, now - for the shadow in everyone's eyes when they remembered, and saw her for who she really was.

Most people, she had come to accept, only saw her as Lelouch's fragile, innocent little sister. It was nothing new to her - despite her brother's and the Ashfords' protection, she had overheard a lot of disturbing things back in school, and even more of them when she had taken on the role of viceroy a few years ago. People thought a fragile, blind girl confined to her wheelchair could only be pure of heart, naive and forgiving. But Nunnally could also be selfish, and envious, and she had done things that people liked to forget because it made them uncomfortable.

Lelouch and Suzaku were not most people. But sometimes, still, they tended to forget.

"I have nightmares about the F.L.E.I.J.A," she went on. "Sometimes I dream that it never happened." She paused, searching his eyes. "Then I wake up."

Suzaku's gaze was full of the pain he felt for her. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to find something to say, thought better of it, and clenched his teeth against the words. Nunnally did not fault him. Some people tried to find her excuses, and she did not want them. It had been her decision, her burden to bear. 

And she was talking to one of the very few persons alive who could, in a way, understand how horrible it felt.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say, and Nunnally was abruptly overcome with the nauseating realization that in the midst of everything happening to him, she had just managed to make him feel even worse. 

Sometimes, Nunnally made mistakes, too.

She wheeled herself closer to Suzaku and reached for his hand. 

"It's okay," she told him. "Because when I wake up, the people I love are there for me."

She closed her eyes, reaching for the part of her that was strong enough to move mountains. She reached for the love she had for her brother, for Suzaku, for the bond they shared. For the hope she had that everything would turn out alright in the end.

When she opened her eyes again, Suzaku, his cheeks tainted pink, was staring at her in confused wonder.

"How do you do it?" he asked.

Nunnally tilted her head to the side.

"Do what?" 

"Smile like this," he clarified, blinking as if the notion baffled him. "In spite of everything. You're always there to remind everyone that...that there's always hope, no matter how terrible things get. How do you do it?" 

It was, oddly, the most sincere compliment Nunnally had received in a very long time, and she felt her heart soar in response.

"I believe that smiles are like candles in the darkness - they're not much, but they can make the world brighter. If I can shine a little light into someone's day, I'm doing something good."

It was a belief she had never strayed from, and would defend until her dying day.

"It doesn't erase what I've done," she went on. "But even the smallest hope can help someone find their way. You can't change the past, but there's always something you can do about the future."

Suzaku was staring at her, his mouth almost comically open. 
 
"You're much stronger than I am," he said, almost reverently.

Nunnally only smiled brighter.
 
"We're both strong, Suzaku. Just differently."

-

(Suzaku's nightmare went like this: he stood on the frontier between life and death, with loved ones who had passed on one side, and loved ones who had not on the other.

The terror of not finding Lelouch on either side woke him up.)

-

"So you're saying it could be ready in about what...a week?" 

"Maybe less, if Lloyd's teams manage to accelerate the process."

Lelouch was having a quiet phone conversation with C.C. Cécile had turned up with promising news, that evening - the scientific teams were finally making progress with their samples, and they were looking at a possible test for an antidote in the upcoming days. It was very good news. Except-

"Will Suzaku last that long?"

Lelouch felt bile rise to the back of his throat. That was the big question, wasn't it? Suzaku had been alternating between lucid and delirious moments more and more these last hours, and Doctor Hester was running out of comforting theories. Lelouch's predictions were grim and he did not feel like sharing them. 

"It's not ideal, but it's a start, and it's all we've got. The teams are working non-stop. They're positive it's going to radically slow the effects of the poison and possibly stop them altogether once it's ready."

C.C was kind enough not to point out that that did not answer her question. He heard her talking to someone on her end in hushed tones. 

"I can't talk long," she said, "we're making a move tonight."

"What took you so long?"

"She wasn't in the first house you identified, nor the second. We had to do a bit of fieldwork. But Kallen says it ends tonight. She's kind of on a warpath."

"Good." He tried to steady the tremble in his voice. "This might be our only chance, C.C."

"I know. Why are you whispering?"

Lelouch's breath hitched. His eyes settled on the slumbering man in front of him.

"Suzaku is sleeping."

"Oh, are you finally sitting on that bed with him, then?"

He tried to exhale as silently as possible, making an effort to control the movement of his lungs.

"You do realize that I would still be whispering if I were anywhere else in the room, right?"

"I do, but now I know you're not anywhere else in the room."

Oh, she was good. Or he was really exhausted. Probably both. 

"You sound different. Did something happen? Apart from the obvious."

She was very good.

Lelouch forced himself to take a calming breath. Focus. His gaze went to Suzaku, finally sleeping somewhat peacefully. His face was slack in slumber, his breathing soft and regular. Lelouch felt a strong urge to run his fingers through the fever-damp hair, but decided against it. It would not do to wake Suzaku up now, when he was resting so serenely. 

He considered saying nothing, but knowing C.C it was probably better to tell her now rather than wait for her instinct to figure it out and have her tease him endlessly about it. 

"I told him the truth."

Well. That was not exactly what had happened, nor the entirety of it, but Lelouch was inclined to keep the exact details to himself.

There was an impressed whistle on the other end of the conversation.

"Oh oh. And judging by the lack of enthusiasm in your voice, I'm guessing it didn't go all that well?"

"...let's just say it went as well as expected, and leave it at that."

"What, he thinks he doesn't deserve to be in a relationship and would rather spend the rest of his life being miserable in atonement?"

The surprised silence on Lelouch's end was eloquent.

"You boys are a lot less complicated than you like to think."

Lelouch was not so sure about that. Sometimes he wished love were as simple as a good chess game. 

The silence held for a while, and he heard C.C sigh in the receiver.

"It's not like you to give up, Lelouch." 

"Who says I'm giving up?" he challenged immediately, annoyed, and there was a giggle on the line.

"That's more like it. Listen, we've got to go. I'll call you back when it's done. Try not to despair too much until then, boya."

"Yeah. Thank you, C.C. And good luck."

C.C hung up before he did, and Lelouch tried to put the phone away with as little movement as he could, so as not to disturb the person currently sleeping with their head on his chest.

He had not been entirely honest with C.C, just then. The real reason he had been whispering, and whispering in a very low voice at that, was really that there was a very ill japanese ex-soldier currently sleeping with his arms wrapped tightly around Lelouch's chest, dead to the world, his head pillowed on the Britannian's chest.

Exhausted beyond his own comprehension, Lelouch had fallen asleep on the bed during his latest vigil, after their first, awkward interaction since his unplanned confession. In accordance with Lelouch's request that the revelation of his feelings should have no impact on the way they acted around one another (at least for now), both boys had managed to have short, unrelated, and surprisingly easy conversations, until Suzaku had started yawning, slowly falling back against the many pillows behind him. Lelouch had ended up nodding off as well, sitting next to him against the headboard. 

He had woken up a few hours later to the feeling of someone hugging him and sobbing quietly onto the fabric of his shirt. 

Instantly wide awake in alarm, Lelouch had put his hands on the shaking shoulders in comfort and tried to question the crying man, only to realize that Suzaku was actually asleep, his movements sluggish but strong. No amount of gentle coaxing nor whispered attempts had managed to wake him up. Cheeks burning, giving the cause up as lost for now and hoping Suzaku would calm down very soon, Lelouch had managed to shift into a more comfortable position and tried his best to remain still while Suzaku cried his heart out in his sleep. The tears had stopped after a while, and Suzaku had fallen back into peaceful slumber. Lelouch had not dared disturb him again after that, not even when the phone in his pocket had started ringing.

Sighing, he brought his hand up and brushed his fingers on Suzaku's cheek in a gentle caress, like it could soothe his friend's pain through the barrier of sleep. Even though he cursed the circumstances that had put them in this position, the image of Suzaku sleeping peacefully with his arms around his chest was one Lelouch would forever cherish. 

His gaze lingered on the japanese soldier's frame.

"You're giving me very mixed signals there, Suzaku."

Perhaps reacting to his voice in a way he had not earlier, Suzaku stirred - and Lelouch froze.

Green eyes blinked heavily, clouded and wet. In a disoriented stupor, Suzaku's gaze fell upon Lelouch, taking in their current position. 

"Lelouch," he slurred. "This is wrong."

Then he promptly let his head fall back onto Lelouch's chest and fell back asleep.

In the exact same position.

-

The barriers between reality and dreams were getting blurry. The more he slept, the more he dreamt, and the more he dreamt, the harder it became to differentiate between what took place in his head and what his exhausted body and mind were actually experiencing. There were hints, sometimes, to help him tell the two apart, but thinking about it enough for it to matter required an energy he no longer had, and since he spent his days and nights navigating between the two anyway he was not certain there was a point to it at all. 

Still, there were clues.

Euphie, for example, had been in the last dream, and Euphie was long gone.

(What would she have thought of the most recent development? The man who had murdered her, in love with the man who had failed her?

He knew exactly what she would have thought. Euphie, beautiful and kind Euphie, had been too pure for his world.)

The pillows were damp under his head, and the various covers, quilts and blankets stacked over him felt heavier than they were warming. These he took as signs that he had woken up for real, stuck again in the same dark, stifling and empty room.

There was just enough light to see by. Suzaku was lying on his side, and his body had curled up into a ball as he slept, trying to preserve what little heat he had managed to accumulate. His toes were frozen in the woollen socks Cécile had knit for him, and his hands-

-his hands were warm. 

His arms were stretched outside the covers, one of his wrists delicately held in familiar hands - Lelouch, sitting on his left, was rubbing precious warmth back into his fingers. At intervals, he could feel the other man's breath on his knuckles, and in between both actions Lelouch entwined their fingers and kept them that way until they shared the same heat.

Had Suzaku not lacked the strength to move, he was certain he would have laid there all the same, silent and still, mesmerized.

When Lelouch deemed Suzaku's hand warm enough, he put it back under the bed covers with all the care in the world, and reached for the other one to start giving it the same treatment. As he did so, his eyes wandered to the right, and he started a little upon noticing that Suzaku was awake. 

"Hey," Lelouch whispered. Even in the semi-darkness, Suzaku could see a small blush gracing his friend's features. He had stopped rubbing Suzaku's fingers in surprise, but was still holding his hand, and his gaze went from it to Suzaku's eyes like he had been caught doing something without permission. "Sorry. I used to do this for Nunnally when she was ill. You were shivering in your sleep. I'll-"

"Don't stop."

Without thinking, Suzaku tried to weave their fingers together again, longing for the precious heat. 

"Does it help?"

"Yes."

Lelouch resumed his ministrations. 

It was strangely intimate. Lelouch's palms were rubbing circles on his hands - it was soothing, perfect. And Suzaku was not supposed to find anything strange in that. Lelouch had done the same thing for Nunnally, when she was ill.

("Did you have an argument with my brother?" the young woman had asked, earlier. "He's worried. He cares about you very much.") 

There had been no argument, not really. Only an unpredicted confession, and the heartbreaking decision that had followed. 

(The feeling of Lelouch's soft lips upon his had been no dream. Of this he was certain.)

"How long have you felt this way?" Suzaku asked in the silence. 

Lelouch's movements slowed and stopped. There was no need for Suzaku to elaborate. For a second, he feared he had made it awkward again, but Lelouch smiled and resumed his motions.

"A while. It just took me some time to recognize it for what it was."

Lelouch's expression was calm, serene. Suzaku's tired brain slowly processed the information, trying to put past events back into place.

"...was it before-?" 

Before I killed you, he wanted to ask. There was no need - Lelouch knew instantly what he meant.

"It was before the Requiem, yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Lelouch's fingers tightened around his. The pillows Suzaku was resting on moved when the other man shrugged.

"There were...several reasons. All carefully rationalized, at the time."

In the dense fog surrounding Suzaku's thoughts, one thing made itself clear.
 
"You were afraid I would change my mind."
 
"I thought it was a possibility, yes."
 
Another silence, and sudden, gripping fear.

"Did you want me to?" Suzaku asked breathlessly.
 
But Lelouch did not need time to consider it. 

"No." There was not even a hint of hesitation in his voice. He looked Suzaku in the eye and gave his hand another firm squeeze. "There was no other way. I don't regret that plan, Suzaku, it was the only solution. I told you before, didn't I?"

Suzaku looked at their joined hands.

"And considering how difficult it had been to convince you," Lelouch went on with a smile, "I didn't want to chance it."

Suzaku's head hurt. His pulse was beating out an exhausting rhythm on his temples. His mind went back to the weeks leading up to the Requiem, seeing them in a new, unexpected light. It made his chest and throat tighten in phantom pain at the memories.

"So...I would never have known, if you hadn't survived," he managed to force out.

Lelouch looked away.
 
"No. I thought you had enough burdens on your shoulders already."

Burdens, huh. Well. It was not like Suzaku had much right to say anything in the matter.

"Why now, then?"

Lelouch's hands started moving again. In the chillness of the room, the tender gesture was the only thing keeping the cold at bay.

The renounced prince considered the question carefully before replying.

"I'm afraid, I think. Afraid you'll die thinking you're alone." 

Their eyes met, and Suzaku thought back to the hours following the Requiem, before he knew Lelouch had survived, before he knew he was going to see him again, touch him again. He hardly remembered leaving the scene, that day, and going somewhere private to cry every tear from his body until he thought he would suffocate from the grief. All he remembered about the room he had been in was the darkness, the walls towering over him, cold and unforgiving, and the silence, everywhere. In the unfamiliar room, in his mind, in his heart. Lelouch was gone, and he was never coming back.

Suzaku squeezed Lelouch's hand in turn.

"You're here now," he said, maybe more for his sake than Lelouch's.

"I am." 

The violet eyes burned into him, and for a split second Suzaku caught a glimpse of all the futures reflected in them. The good, and the bad, on whichever paths Lelouch's immortal life would take him.

He was way too tired to think. Gathering his strength, and using his one currently free arm, he uncurled himself from the cramped position he was in and dragged his body closer to Lelouch until his head rested against the other man's thigh. Once he was comfortable enough, he laced their fingers together once more.

"Don't stop," he prompted again.

He did not remember falling asleep.

-

A few hours later, C.C called to let Lelouch know that she and Kallen were on their way back, prisoner in tow.

- 

Prior to Suzaku getting poisoned, Lelouch's knowledge of Zero's quarters had mostly been limited to the blueprints he had gotten from Nunnally. Now, though, he had spent enough time sitting on the bathroom floor to count the tiles, had slept on the bed enough times to recognize the exact shade of the ceiling paint. After today, he would also know the approximate measurements of the doorframe to the bedroom, sitting as he was with his back against the bathroom door just opposite, the painted wood cold and hard against his shoulders.

He was starting to hate the place. As soon as this whole mess was over, Zero would be getting new, more decent living arrangements.

"Sorry," Suzaku wheezed on his left, and Lelouch felt the tremors in his arm from where they were touching. He was pretty sure that his presence at Suzaku's side was the only reason the japanese man was still upright at all.

"Don't apologize for things that aren't your fault," he admonished. "Take all the time you need."

Taking the words as some sort of authorization, Suzaku let his head fall back against the wall and took larger gulps of air. The new rasp in his breathing did not go unnoticed, but Lelouch chose not to mention it. Suzaku was probably very aware, already, of his own degrading health.

He had been overcome by a dizzy spell not two steps outside of the bathroom. Swaying dangerously on his feet despite Lelouch's arm around his back for support, he had begged him for a small break, just long enough for his vision to clear and his breathing to go back to normal. After several long seconds of leaning heavily against the wall, however, Suzaku had let his exhausted body slide down to the floor in silent defeat. 

Lelouch had followed him down.

Now they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, their legs stretched out in front of them, the open door to the bedroom taunting them from only ten steps away. 

Lelouch let his eyes roam over his friend, taking in the damp brow, the red cheeks, and the despair in his eyes as he stared longingly towards the currently unreachable bed. It was a painful sight: Suzaku who was so strong, who had piloted a knightmare after being shot, made it through bullying and war, returned to him after every battle as his Knight, now too exhausted to handle the short walk back to his bed. 

"I hate these rooms," the object of his scrutiny suddenly confessed, echoing Lelouch's earlier thoughts. His eyes were trained on a blank piece of wall where a window would have fit. "I miss going outside. I want to leave this place and go run in the sun." 

Well, there was one major problem with this ambition. 

"It's the middle of the night, actually," Lelouch corrected, unable to resist.
 
Suzaku groaned in frustration at Lelouch's rectification, earning himself a chuckle from the amused man at his side. 

"There goes my plan to trick you into joining me, then," he retorted back with a fake pout.

Lelouch's chuckle ended in a yearning sigh. He would have gladly traded the current situation for another where Suzaku was safe and sound, if a little running was all it took.

"When you're better," he amended, "I'll take you somewhere far away from everything, a hidden place where no one will find us, where we can be ourselves and you can run like an idiot all you want." 

The idea brought a smile to his lips. Turning back to Suzaku, he found him staring, eyes bright and searching. 

Lelouch faltered, blood rushing to his cheeks. 

"I mean. If you'd like," he added quickly.

To his surprise, Suzaku's lips curved up.

"I'd like that," he replied. 

Lelouch felt his heart start to melt - it was the first real smile they shared since his confession.

Suzaku liked the idea, and that was more than enough for now. Lelouch could picture it already, the two of them running off somewhere, maskless and alone. Sitting with their hips and arms touching like they were now. A hidden place, where they could be themselves together. Clear skies, a small breeze in their hair, and the man he loved, alive and whole, snuggled against his side. Friends or lovers - either was fine. At this very moment, there was nothing Lelouch desired more in the world than for this image to come true.

Even though he had promised himself to put the matter of his feelings aside as long as Suzaku was ill and vulnerable, there was nothing much he could do about moments like this, that inevitably forced the idea back into their minds.

Surprisingly, Suzaku was the one who brought the subject back into the open.

"Doctor Hester thinks we're a couple," he mused out loud, taking Lelouch unawares. That was information the young doctor had not shared with him.

"...what?" he asked eloquently.

Suzaku shrugged. He was smiling awkwardly, his eyes lost somewhere on the floor by their socked feet.

"She let it slip earlier today, when you were sleeping. I tried telling her we weren't together, but...she wasn't convinced."

He did not look offended by the notion, and Lelouch knew better than to believe the revelation was meant to hurt him. Their exchange had simply evoked something in Suzaku's mind, and now he was turning the idea over in his head.

Lelouch certainly did not intend to interrupt the process.

He held his breath, recalling a somewhat similar situation from a year ago: there had been rumors in the palace, too, back when he and Suzaku were Emperor and Knight. People talked about it behind their backs - C.C found it very funny, and shared her favorite quotes with him. Had he been that obvious? Had Suzaku shown signs of wanting to be with him that he had failed to pick up on? He had never told Suzaku about the anecdote - the idea of them crossing that line was a subject he carefully avoided, back then.

At least his feelings were out in the open, now.

Suzaku's expression had grown inexplicably somber while Lelouch had been lost in thought. He opened his mouth several times, inhaling to start a sentence and then stopping abruptly. When he finally found his voice, it was clear that he was choosing his words very carefully.

"Lelouch," he started, taking an additional few seconds to organize his thoughts. "That day, after...after I killed you. I have no words for how horrible it felt."

The former Emperor had not expected the discussion to take such a direction, and he felt a cold shiver on his back, like he did every time his assassination was discussed. Suzaku's green eyes were stuck in the past. 

"I knew it would hurt," his knight went on, "but not like this." He turned to look at Lelouch again, sincere and true. His eyes were shiny with something other than the fever. "I'm glad you're alive. And I'm glad you decided to stay, too. I want you to know that." 

Lelouch's heart stilled, overcome with a gratitude he had not been expecting. It was not ready for what Suzaku confessed next.

"And, if things were different...," the japanese man wet his lips and looked away, "If things were different, I probably would have kissed you back, yesterday."

(Had it only been yesterday? Lelouch was not sure anymore. He had a feeling Suzaku's sense of time was skewed, too.)

Lelouch's brain recorded the words and played them in a loop, providing meaning only one time in two. He was thinking too many things at once, and then none at all, and there was a similar feeling in his heart, trying to figure out whether to jump in joy or shut down entirely. Was Suzaku blushing? It was hard to tell, with the way his temperature rose and fell, and the exercise he had just gotten. Lelouch himself definitely was - he could feel the heat on his cheeks, clear as day. Unbidden, his mind supplied him with the imaginary feeling of Suzaku reciprocating his kiss, that one time, and the fleeting sensation brought him pure elation and terrible despair at the same time. 

Because things were not different. Things were as they were, and Suzaku had not kissed him back.

Lelouch's vision cleared, and he found Suzaku staring at him, looking flustered and terribly sorry at once. The Brtannian's gaze was unconsciously drawn to his lips.

(I probably would have kissed you back)

"But..." Suzaku tried to go on, faltered and then bit his lower lip. 

Lelouch finished for him.

"But you made a promise."

Suzaku reluctantly nodded. 

Of course.

Yes, Lelouch had sworn to himself that he would not insist while Suzaku was unwell, lest he damage their friendship. But there was also something that had been festering at the back of his mind for over a year, and maybe it was finally time to let it out, too. He took a careful breath, and put words on the feeling that weighed so heavily on his heart.

"How is that promise fair to you, though?"

Confusion clouded Suzaku's eyes.

"What do you mean?" 

"Zero Requiem was a pact between us. And I got out of my punishment." 

Suzaku frowned and shook his head in bewilderment. 

"...you died, I killed you," he enunciated slowly, like he was explaining something complicated to a small child. "It wasn't your fault that you survived."

"I still came back from it."

"But you died. You've...done your part. You've suffered enough."

Lelouch held his gaze, allowing the words to sink in.

"Don't you think we both have?"

Suzaku's breath hitched, his eyes widening in surprise, and he stared at Lelouch like he could not believe what he was hearing. Lelouch had to admit that the transition from easy talk to whatever this was had been a little abrupt.

Lelouch usually enjoyed winning arguments - but this one left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"You gave me that punishment," Suzaku choked, his voice almost inaudible for how tight his throat had gotten.

"I did. Because that was what you needed." 

Life, for Suzaku who longed for death, and death for Lelouch who wanted to see Nunnally's wish for a gentler world come true. 

(Except fate had spat Lelouch's offering back in his face.)

Suzaku looked like he had been betrayed, again - it was a look Lelouch did not particularly enjoy seeing on the man's face. He took his reasoning to its conclusion anyway.

"But now I'm free and you're not. So let me ask again: how is that fair to you?"

Suzaku's breath was quickening; Lelouch was almost starting to regret bringing up the subject. 

Maybe this was not the right time to have this discussion.

(Maybe it was the perfect time for it.)

Suzaku's eyes were fixed on him, his mouth half-open in disbelief. A tear was threatening to roll down his cheek.

"...it's not about fairness, Lelouch."

The late Emperor's answer was a low whisper of heartache in the night.

"No. Not to you."

Lelouch brought a hand up, touching the back of a finger to Suzaku's eyelid to delicately wipe the droplet away.

"You wouldn't have to give up Zero. You can still be the masked defender of justice, and sacrifice your freedom in atonement for the rest of your life. You would only have to do it with me by your side. "

Time stood still. Suzaku's eyes were wide and conflicted, a far cry from the way they had shone earlier at the idea of running away to a secluded place with him.

Lelouch's fingers lingered a little before he took his hand away, letting his arm drop at his side and his head fall back against the door behind him. His eyes went to the ceiling. 

Dark grey, matt paint.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess it was easier when I wasn't the one being left behind."

He meant it as an apology, but it came out bitter. Suzaku, on his left, was silent and still.

Neither said anything for a while, and Lelouch was glad when his phone broke the uneasy silence - he took the device out and unlocked it to find a text from Kallen.

Finally.

"The girls will be here in a few minutes. Can you stand?" Lelouch asked, like this entire conversation had not shaken their worlds.

Suzaku swallowed painfully, and nodded instead of using his voice.

Lelouch went to help him. Together they made their slow way back to Zero's bedroom.

-

What happened next could easily have been prevented. Although Lelouch was usually very thorough with the minute details of everything, he only had himself to blame for letting this one slip.

Nunnally and him had decided that their new 'guest' was going to be kept in a secured room close to Zero's quarters, so that Lelouch would not have to leave Suzaku's side for longer than necessary when he visited their prisoner. The two had gone over every element : which room would be picked, who would be assigned to guard it and when, who would be told of its location in the house. They had not told Suzaku about it, not out of any reluctance to let him know, but because the subject of his tormentor's accommodations was not a priority in light of his seriously degrading health.

Had he not been distracted by the conversation he had just had with him, maybe Lelouch would have thought twice before addressing the matter in front of the bedridden knight. Maybe, if he had been less exhausted, he would have realized that there was a reason his subconscious had decided not to share this information with Suzaku.  

It was just a dumb detail. 

Kallen and C.C finally came back, and amidst the rejoicing, gratitude, and eagerness to finally confront the person responsible for this and make some much-needed progress on an antidote, Suzaku asked Lelouch where the prisoner was being held.

And Lelouch told him.

-

The world turned red. 

Live, his mind ordered, because he was dying, and the person with all the answers was finally within reach. His muscles were on fire, his lungs burned, and his head was killing him, but he had to go, because he had to live.

Lelouch, as Zero, had ordered it.

He tried to run, but his limbs refused to follow. His knees hit the floor - he hardly felt the pain, and there were arms restraining him, people shouting at him to stop. Through the darkness closing in from the corners of his vision he recognized the tiled floor of his kitchen at an odd angle, and Lelouch was urging him to breathe; there was retching at some point, and his throat ached and the red turned to black, spreading and spreading until Suzaku felt the world tilt and his consciousness slip away-

Lelouch's eyes were right in front of his face, full of tears and anguish.

(Was he doomed to hurt the ones he loved over and over?)

Suzaku's last thought before awareness left him was cut short, a half-idea, the start of a realization.

Wait. I want-

A deep, terrified voice followed him into darkness.

-

He dreamt of Death, and Lelouch was nowhere to be found.

Maybe it really was that simple, after all.

-

Suzaku had woken up like this, once. After getting himself to safety during the final fight against Kallen, he had blacked out for a few hours. When he had opened his eyes again, he was disoriented, hurting everywhere, and his hand was clasped in someone else's. Making an effort to turn his aching head, he had found the Demon Emperor slumped against the side of the bed, one hand holding Suzaku's bandaged one in sleep.

He should have known, then.

This time, too, Lelouch was asleep at his side when Suzaku came to, fingers loosely entwined with his.

He was terribly pale, his eyes ringed with dark smudges, his face slack and unmoving.

(White robes, red blood, and Lelouch's corpse falling, falling, falling...)

Suzaku squeezed Lelouch's fingers in irrational panic. 

There was a groan, and the beautiful violet eyes opened.

"Suzaku," Lelouch gasped, and he was up in an instant - there was a flurry of movements as he frantically looked the bedridden man over, making sure he was in no immediate danger. Reassured, Lelouch folded into himself and dropped his forehead on Suzaku's chest with a relieved sigh.

Suzaku stilled.

"Sometimes," Lelouch confided in a whisper, "I fear that the next time I wake up you'll be gone." 

His voice was so soft, and the idea so painfully familiar, that Suzaku wondered which one of them had spoken. How many times had he woken up in a panic, fearing Death had claimed Lelouch once again? How many nightmares had he suffered through, stuck in the hours following the murder of his best friend? 

"I know how that feels," he confessed. His own voice came from far away, strangely resounding and echoing in his brain. It sounded as weak as his body felt. 

Lelouch, surprised, took a moment to observe him anew. 

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked, sitting up stiffly and moving to settle next to Suzaku.

Suzaku did. He was dying, faster than he had anticipated. And the Geass command on his mind had reacted accordingly to the news that his tormentor was only a corridor away. 

He nodded.

Lelouch said nothing.

Shifting to sit up properly, Suzaku tried to get his elbows under him, and before he could consider asking for his help Lelouch was there, an arm around his shoulder to support him. The other man's presence at his side had become a regular occurrence, and Suzaku was only now noticing just how much he had come to depend on it, how grateful he was for it. He took the opportunity to observe his friend, sitting next to him on his sickbed, trying his damnedest to save him from a nearly certain death. Suzaku had rarely seen Lelouch look this neglected. His hair was greasy and sticking up every which way. His eyes were red and shadowed. He had been wearing the same shirt for the last three days or more. He looked almost as bad as Suzaku felt.

But he was still here, supporting Suzaku when he needed help, offering his arm whenever Suzaku needed it, rubbing his back when he threw up the lunches the former prince himself had prepared. 

Still there, by his side, after everything.

(It was fitting, Suzaku thought, that if this was how it was supposed to end, it would be him and Lelouch again.)

Maybe he had sat up too fast, or maybe his body was just that broken - but as Suzaku finally settled into a more comfortable position, he felt something wet and warm drip down his upper lip, and Lelouch was pinching his nose before Suzaku even understood that it had started bleeding.

"Head down," Lelouch ordered, fishing an elegant handkerchief from his pocket with his other hand and holding it under Suzaku's nose so the blood would not drip on him. "Breathe through your mouth."

Suzaku obeyed, squinting to focus on the image of his blood slowly spreading through fabric and staining Lelouch's delicate fingers. There was some beauty to it, he supposed, in a morbidly artistic way.

"You pushed your body to its limits," Lelouch explained, patiently waiting for the bleeding to stop. "Helena said you could have done some serious damage if Kallen and I hadn't stopped you."

Suzaku silently wondered what 'serious damage' was supposed to mean in the current situation, other than something very final. 

Lelouch's face appeared in Suzaku's field of vision, startling him out of his thoughts. He was bending awkwardly so he could study Suzaku's eyes even as he kept pinching his nose.

"Is the order I put on you doing anything, right now?" he asked, searching for a hint of red in Suzaku's irises. "Just so you know, we moved the prisoner to another location, so you won't be tempted to leave again."

Suzaku had his doubts about this statement - they could not have gotten much time to prepare another room in this chaos, and he did not think Lelouch planned to leave him alone anytime soon either. The uncertainty, however, was enough to prevent the Geass order from forcing him to risk it, especially after the last stunt.

He managed a "no", the word resonating oddly through his clogged nasal cavity. Lelouch pinched his lips and straightened back up. In the stifling room, the sound of his own loud breathing drowned everything else. There was a trickle of blood pooling on his upper lip, and he resisted the itching urge to lick it away. Finally, Lelouch removed his fingers, making sure the bleeding had stopped. 

Unconsciously, he wet a corner of the handkerchief with the tip of his tongue, and used the damp fabric to wipe the blood from Suzaku's lips.

They blinked at each other.

Turning away, Lelouch rolled the handkerchief into a ball and threw it towards the laundry basket. Unsurprisingly, it missed its target.

"Suzaku," he said, his back to him. "Forget everything I said, earlier. Just focus on getting better." 

When he turned back, he looked much older than his years.

"I can't bear the thought of losing you," he concluded.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Suzaku heard the voice of Zero, desperate and panicked, ordering him to live.

Green met purple again. They had been through so much, but in that second they were just two young men, with terrible fates, who had tried their best and done their worst.

Suzaku felt the metallic taste of blood in the back of his throat, the smell powerful in his nostrils.

"Lelouch," he started, "is there a point to my promise if I only have a few days left to live?"

The question was not meant to break Lelouch's heart, but it did. His eyes widened, his jaw working as he clenched his teeth. The former Emperor leaned close again, his fingers digging into Suzaku's upper arms, and he stared into his eyes like he could still impose an order on his mind if he tried hard enough.

"You're not going to die. Not like this. I won't allow it."

"But..."

"You're not well, please stop thinking about this."

"Please, Lelouch. I need to know."

Was it the pleading tone of his voice? The hint of despair in his eyes? Lelouch's grip slackened, and his lower lip trembled. 

It was a real question, one Suzaku needed an answer to.

"Why?"

Suzaku's hand found Lelouch's on his arm, settling over it in what he hoped was a calming gesture.

"Because...maybe you and I are the only ones I can bring happiness to before I go."

He did not think it was possible for Lelouch to look even more heartbroken. And yet, the man's eyes brimmed with tears, his gaze mournful.

"Is this pity? If it is, then I'll-"

"It's not pity," Suzaku quickly interrupted. He could not let Lelouch believe that. "I told you. I would've kissed you back in other circumstances."

"What changed, then?" 

Suzaku was not as gifted with words as Lelouch. What had changed, really? The deadline, for one. Suzaku was starting to realize that even with the live order Lelouch had placed on him, his chances of survival were dimming at an alarming speed. The only reason he was not running through the mansion right now, looking for the woman who had poisoned him, was the knowledge that he could no longer leave the room without endangering his very life. 

Then, there was the staggering realization that he cared for Lelouch as more than a friend. The Britannian's confession had forced Suzaku to look at things in a new light, and there was no other way around it. 

Suzaku loved Lelouch. He loved Lelouch very much.

Was there a point to hurting them both in the last moments they possibly had together?

(Even the smallest light can help fight the darkness, Nunnally had explained.)

"You asked if I still wanted to die," Suzaku recalled, staring at the man who had risked his own life, once, to save his. "I'm sorry. The answer is yes. But..."

Lelouch's eyes were beautiful, he thought, as his oldest friend waited for him to finish the thought.

"...maybe it's okay if I don't face the journey alone," Suzaku concluded.

Lelouch's gaze was unreadable. Slowly, he let go of Suzaku's arms to place the palms of his hands on either side of the younger man's head.
   
Gentle. Warm. Alive.

"What if you do survive this?" he asked, so close that Suzaku felt his breath on his face.

He knew the answer to that question.

"Then we'll have to figure this out together."

This time, Suzaku was the one to initiate the kiss. 

Chapter Text

Kallen was not eavesdropping - not really. Lelouch had entrusted her with the task of conducting preliminary questioning while he agonized over Suzaku's condition, and he had demanded that she report back to him as soon as she was done. So, as promised, she had rushed back to Zero's quarters the second she had been ready to share her learnings. She did not want to risk disturbing Suzaku's rest, so she had chanced a look through the ajar door first.

Suzaku was not asleep. He and Lelouch were sitting together on the bed, lips locked in a tender kiss.

Kallen's hand had frozen on the doorframe.

"About time," came a soft voice close to her, and she looked down to find CC, crouching by the door and peeking inside the room, too.

The red-haired woman felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment - there was not much point in pretending she had not seen anything. Delicately, she pushed the door closed, hoping the two men inside were too occupied to have heard anything.

"Did...did you know?" she inquired in a whisper.

"Yes," CC said, drawing herself back up and flipping her hair back nonchalantly. "Perhaps before they did. Are you really that surprised?"

Kallen had to turn the idea over in her head, past the conflicting emotions. Lelouch and Suzaku had been enemies not that long ago, and they had said and done horrible things to each other. Oh, they were friends again, now, and very close ones at that, but their relationship had been a complicated one, complete with guns, swords and screaming, and this was an outcome she had never envisioned.

In retrospect, now, maybe she should have. There's a fine line between love and hate, goes the quote. She had questioned their bond many times before, and there was a soft gaze, after all, that Lelouch reserved for the japanese man only, when he thought no one was looking.

Kallen's heart slowly settled back to a normal rhythm.

"It...explains a few things," she decided.

(She had given up on him a long time ago, now.)

"I just...," she faltered. Was there really anything more to say?

"It's not painless," CC's voice came, softly. When Kallen turned to her, there was an oddly sympathetic smile on her face.

Somewhere, a small part of Kallen accepted the bittersweet feeling with new maturity.

This quiet spell of contemplation was soon interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps behind the door, and Lelouch emerged from the room, looking unsurprised to find them there. For all of their sake, he chose not to comment on it.

The former Zero cleared his throat, careful not to meet their eyes.

"Kallen," he asked. "Report, please?"

He was very red in the face.

-

The mask was heavier than he remembered. Gazing at the inside of it, Lelouch remembered putting it on, a lifetime ago, for the first time. Back then, he was already trying to save Suzaku.

He had never been supposed to use it again. Dead men did not wear masks.

Zero pushed the door open, going straight to the center of the room, where a small table was installed. The place had been stripped of most of the furniture, leaving only the bare minimum to make it a holding cell.

An old woman, her frame small and frail, was sitting at the table, calm and composed. She looked deceivingly innocent, and held her head high, hands delicately resting on the surface of the table. She wore plain clothes under a worn apron, her grey hair held up in a bun - the image of a gentle grandmother, taken from her kitchen in the middle of baking a pie.

'Don't be fooled,' Kallen had warned. 'She hates Zero with her whole being'.

Lelouch did not let the silence sit for long.

"Talk," he ordered.

The woman's eyes travelled up to where she thought his eyes should be, elegantly offended.

"A polite host would start with proper greetings," she said, her voice soft but unwavering.

"Correct. But we're among criminals, aren't we? There's no need for niceties."

Her eyes narrowed, searching the reflective surface of the mask in vain for a glimpse of the man behind it.

"What makes you think I fit in the same category as you?"

"You will find that attempted murder counts as a crime in a good number of countries, including this one. Luckily for you, I am not dead, so you're not officially a murderer yet."

The suggestion that her plan had failed was enough to make her drop the pretense. Her posture tensed, her mouth thinned. The mild-mannered old woman gave way to an angry, vengeful spirit, disgust dripping from every syllable she directed at him.

"You're not the real Zero," she spat.

"Aren't I?"

"No. I've been observing him for over a year. I know how he moves, speaks, and acts. You're not him. You're very close, I'll give you that. But you're not him."

Lelouch felt his lips turn up at the irony.

"I am Zero. And you already know why you're here, so let's not waste anymore of each other's time."

The woman drew herself taller on the small chair, her chin raised.

"I take it my concoction must have infected someone, or you wouldn't be here, threatening me in person so soon after your subordinate. A bit of a let down, I'll admit, but I'll take it. If you really are Zero, you're going to have to watch that person die a most painful death."

Lelouch resisted the urge to clench his fists. This was not the time to let her see how much the situation affected him. He needed her to cooperate, and sooner rather than later.

The poisoner went on before he could intervene.

"I am sixty-seven years old, Zero. I have seen my share of injustice and death. But you're the most vile, disgusting human being I have ever met. You deserve everything that's coming for you, and believe me when I say that I'll enjoy every second of it."

It had been a while since Lelouch had last felt such hatred directed at him. But this desperate and murderous woman, whose one wish was for 'Zero' to suffer as horribly as possible, was his best chance at saving Suzaku's life, and he was not going to play her games.

That was enough minutes wasted on small talk. Time for another strategy.

"I suggest you get used to the hard chair you're sitting on, because you'll stay in this room until you're ready to talk," he declared. "You will receive neither food nor water. Lights will stay on at all times, and cameras will be installed so that nothing you do or say goes unnoticed. No bathroom breaks." He marked a pause, letting the rules sink in, glad to see the satisfied grin on her old face fade with every word. "Think carefully on your next move. I don't suppose deprivations are too recommended for sixty-seven year olds."

With that, he turned to leave.

"I take back what I said," she hissed. "You really are Zero."

Lelouch ignored her outrage.

"Next time," he said on his way out, "I want answers."

-

Nunnally, when she found out, was furious.

"This is not how we treat people in my home," she berated him, every inch the leader she had become in the last year.

"Suzaku is dying, Nunnally."

"I know that. What makes you think threats and abuse must be the best solution?"

"Experience."

Nunnally pinched her lips but refused to relent. Her angry stare brought back memories Lelouch did not enjoy recalling.

"Let me try," she asked, and Lelouch felt his resolve waver. They did not have the luxury to waste time on too many options - but this was Nunnally. She was only asking for his sake, too - Nunnally vi Britannia did not need anyone's permission to do as she pleased in her own home.

He gave in.

An hour later, the young Empress rolled into the room-turned-cell bearing two glasses of water on a platter, and introduced herself humbly and politely. She apologized for the accommodations, but stated that surely her interlocutor could understand the measures taken in the circumstances. She detailed the situation in simple but factual terms, offering to listen to any demands the woman had, going as far as to promise no harm would come to her if she agreed to help them save the victim of her poison.

Sitting a few rooms away, nursing a hot cup of tea in trembling fingers, Lelouch watched the scene unfold on his laptop via the cameras he had had installed.

Despite his skepticism at the chosen method, Lelouch could only admit that his sister was very good at what she was doing - a perfect compromise between cautious persuasion and prudent empathy. Her voice had lost all traces of childishness now, and her eyes, though clear and honest still, reflected an assertiveness that she had worked hard on. Nunnally talked, and listened in turn.

Lelouch held his breath - at some points during their exchange, the woman's eyes appeared to cloud over in sadness and reflection. She thanked Nunnally for offering to listen, and showing her 'a bit of humanity'. The frown on her face lessened, the grip on her glass loosened. She looked at Nunnally like a parent would look at their audacious child. Many years separated the two women, and yet their respective life stories enabled them to see past the faces they presented to the world.

Against all odds, Lelouch started hoping again. Was Nunnally really the answer all along? Would one visit from her be enough to solve everything?

Her blue gaze full of hope, the young woman asked the question that made Lelouch's heart skip a beat.

"Will you help us, then?"

The woman wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, and looked directly at where she knew the camera was.

She smirked uglily.

"No."

Lelouch's fancy cup of tea smashed against the wall.

-

In the fog of illness and the incessant buzz plaguing Suzaku's ears, Lelouch's voice was a lighthouse, the one solid piece of reality that he could focus on when his body felt like shutting down and giving up. The former Emperor spent most of his time sitting by Suzaku's side on his bed, making sure he ate and drank and slept, hardly ever letting him out of his sight. Earlier, he had brought him traditional okayu that he had asked Sayoko to prepare, and from his insistence that his friend eat another mouthful of the rice porridge, and another, and another, Suzaku had a feeling that Doctor Hester had warned him, too, about the looming threat of intravenous feeding if Suzaku didn't manage to keep more food down soon.

Lelouch himself was clearly just as exhausted as he was, though, and Suzaku had not seen him eat anything in days, either. He looked sour as he observed the screen on the laptop he had brought with him. It was obvious that his patience was wearing thin - as Suzaku understood it, the various meetings with the woman who had poisoned him had not gone well.

Ignoring a spell of vertigo, he shifted closer so he could look at the screen, resting tired limbs against the other man's warm side.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Lelouch's cheeks reddening.

A few days ago, Suzaku would not have thought twice about how natural it felt to be so close to each other. He was sick, he was tired, and leaning against Lelouch was the only way he could stay upright for more than ten minutes in a row. Before Lelouch's confession, he would have sat there with their hips touching without a second thought. How curious was it that the action only made him self-conscious now that the status of their relationship had changed?

He thought back to all the times they had been close before - all the little gestures that felt simple and natural, but must have meant so much more to Lelouch. Had he made the other man uncomfortable? Was he making him feel uncomfortable now? There was no reason to. Lelouch was not even sitting under the covers with him.

Well, Suzaku was not moving from his position anytime soon, anyway. Lelouch's warmth was soothing the agony in his muscles, a little. And he smelled good, in the stale room.

He turned his attention back to the portable computer on Lelouch's lap. There was not much to be seen, except an old lady on the screen, sitting at a table. The woman responsible for his poisoning was of small stature and looked inoffensive.

"Her name is Torako Nakayama," Lelouch finally revealed. "She's a retired chemist. Before the war, she was a researcher in the medical field, working on experimental compounds from the local flora. She was quite good, from what I gather. I'm sure that's how she came up with...whatever it is that's in your bloodstream now."

Lelouch did not have much sympathy for the woman at the moment, as evidenced by the rules he had imposed again on her after the meeting with Nunnally had not brought the desired results.

Suzaku disapproved of the method, but Lelouch was upset for him.

Thinking made his head swim.

"You mean she created that poison?" he asked.

"Yes," Lelouch replied, perusing files in another corner of the screen. "Remedies and poisons are more similar than we think. The venom of many animals and poisons from plants are often used in research to reproduce or invert some of their effects, or as a basis for more complex formulas. I'm not sure she was trying to create any sort of poison, at first. She was probably working on a cure or something similar before war broke out. When she decided to attack Zero...that's when she went back to her research and took it in the other direction."

Suzaku felt a shiver run down his spine. What kind of horrible event could make someone go from trying to save people to trying to kill them?

The lights overhead were blinking in and out of focus, and the sound of Lelouch's fingers on the keyboard sounded muffled and far away. Letting his head fall to the other man's shoulder, Suzaku closed his eyes.

"...Suzaku?"

"I'm okay," he mumbled, not entirely sure the words made it past his lips at all. "Keep going. What happened to her?"

No answer came. When Suzaku forced his eyes open again, he found Lelouch looking ahead at nothing, worrying his lower lip.

"She lost people. From her family," Lelouch eventually replied reluctantly, clearly unwilling to expand on the subject. Was he missing pieces of the story? Or was there something in it that he did not want his friend to find out?

Suzaku had to know. The woman was responsible for his condition, someone other than himself who thought he deserved to suffer and die in pain.

He had to know why.

"Can I talk to her?" he asked. Knowing Lelouch, there had to be speakers in her room, connected to the camera. One click on that screen, and he could simply ask her.

Lelouch's reaction was instantaneous.

"No."

The violet eyes, back on him again, were bright and burning with anguish and determination.

Suzaku stilled, surprised.

"This woman wants you dead, Suzaku. Killing Zero is her only goal in life. She believes you deserve to die and-"

He averted his eyes again, swallowing with difficulty. When he opened his mouth to finish, his voice was raw with pain.

"...and you don't need anymore convincing."

Oh.

Suzaku's mind was suddenly a little clearer.

"Is that why you won't tell me her story?" he asked, softly enough that it was almost a whisper.

Lelouch's fingers stilled on the keyboard.

"Yes," he admitted.

Suzaku lowered his head in thought. Lelouch's refusal to expand on the poor woman's backstory could only mean that it was particularly tragic.

He heard Lelouch sigh in pained frustration.

"See? You're feeling sorry for her already."

Suzaku looked up, and there was nothing but despair on Lelouch's handsome face. His chest tightened in response - losing someone you loved was a terrible trial, something he refused to wish on anyone.

"Lelouch," he started, his voice soft and hesitant, as if trying not to spook a wary animal. "My feeling sorry for her won't change anything. I can't decide not to fight anymore. Your Geass makes sure of that."

The silence stretched, as Lelouch seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

"I don't care about Geass," he finally confessed on a heavy breath, meeting his gaze with rare honesty. "I want you to fight for yourself."

Suzaku shivered. The words sent warmth and dread coursing through him at the implications.

"I'm not giving up on you," Lelouch insisted.

It was Suzaku's turn to look away.

"You're immortal," he reminded Lelouch with a heavy heart. "You're gonna have to, eventually."

He did not dare raise his head back up - the thought of facing the misery he knew he would find in Lelouch's eyes was too painful. But it was the truth, plain and simple. Nothing they did now would change that.

"Yes," Lelouch forced out. "And I'm going to need time before I can get used to the idea."

Suzaku could not find anything to say to that. Tentatively, he shifted closer again, and put his head to Lelouch's shoulder once more.

He fell asleep to the sound of his lover's breathing.

-

Kallen, too, asked for a chance to try and convince their prisoner to cooperate. Even though she had already met the woman and witnessed her determination, the young pilot was having a difficult time seeing an old and seemingly defenseless lady as the perpetrator of such an assassination attempt on the Black Knights leader. She went in for the second time, calm and composed, determined to put a stop to this nonsense.

She only lasted half an hour.

"That bitch," was all she said when she came out of the room, fuming and slamming the door behind her.

-

"This game is funnier with more players," CC lamented with a sigh, exposing another winning hand. "And less clothing."

The bedridden boy across from her chuckled and nodded, and CC raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I was in the army," he explained with a shrug.

Oh, right. Sometimes, CC forgot that Britannian soldiers occasionally took breaks from hunting or shooting people. Did the honorary Britannians play among themselves, or with the others? She dismissed the thought, not particularly keen to follow that line of reasoning.

She put the cards away, stealthily studying the man before her. Throughout the centuries, CC had known and lost many people, some of whom to illness, and Suzaku looked very much like some of the latter just then. The greyness to his complexion, the weakness in his limbs, the haunted look in his eyes. The way he tried to hide that he was only one yawn away from falling asleep in the middle of another conversation.

The memories it brought back were not pleasant. No one CC had known had come back from looking like that.

But Lelouch had taught her the meaning of hope again - maybe this time it would be different. Zero was the man of miracles, after all. And now there were two of them.

"CC," Suzaku said, interrupting her reflections. "What does it feel like? Dying."

Well, she thought. So much for hope.

She was a little surprised, actually, that he had not asked earlier. It was not information she shared with just anyone, but maybe, in the circumstances, he had earned an answer.

"You know that feeling when you're about to sleep, and suddenly you think you're falling so you try to catch yourself?"

"Yes?"

"It's kind of like that, except that you do fall."

She let him reflect on that for a minute.

"As for what comes next, I know as much as you do. I've only been a little further up the road."

That was as much as she would tell him - which was plenty enough, judging from the look of confused concentration on his features. Trying to understand something that should only be lived through once tended to have that effect on people.

"You're getting worse," she observed. "Don't let Lelouch know what you've been asking about."

Suzaku blinked away his stupor. CC had not meant it as a rebuke at all, nor as any sort of bitter allusion, really, but she should have anticipated that this boy, in particular, would take the remark as such.

"Sorry," he said, his shoulders sagging.

CC moved into a cross-legged position to ease the tingling in her feet - she had been sitting on this bed for a while, and was more than ready for Lelouch to come back and take over.

"What are you sorry for, now?" she asked, even though she knew.

"I know you care about him a lot, too."

CC sighed.

"There are different kinds of love, Kururugi Suzaku. It's only taken me several lifetimes to realize that. Why are you so eager to give everyone a second chance except yourself?"

His features froze in surprise, and CC held his gaze until he looked down in thought.

That was enough serious discussion for today, thank you very much. CC turned to the (almost) forgotten flat box sitting on the covers to her right - pizza, of course, courtesy of Lelouch as a thank-you gift for looking after Suzaku while he was away dealing with the poisoner. Not that Lelouch did not already pay for all the other pizzas CC ate, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless. The delicious smell of cheese invaded her nostrils, chasing away somber thoughts - until Suzaku spoke again.

"CC," he said, taking on a very serious tone. "If I don't make it through this, will you-mmpf"

Unfortunately, CC did not hear the rest of his sentence, on account of there being a slice of pizza stuck in his mouth.

"Oops," she apologized unsincerely. "Sorry, you were about to say something dumb."

Grimacing, Suzaku took the pizza out of his mouth and put it to the side, then rinsed the taste away with water from the cup on his bedside table.

CC got herself a new slice, and spoke before he could start over.

"Trust me," she said, her mouth full. "The best you can do for him and everyone right now, is try your hardest to survive."

(She meant it, too.)

"And make sure you make the most of it. You owe it to the hordes of males and females lusting after him."

The way he spit his water was very Lelouch-like.

-

Cécile gave interrogation a try, too. She was very upset about Suzaku's condition. She decided to go for the scientific angle - the woman was a chemist after all, and a very good one at that. Maybe they could find common ground for a discussion, at least, and go from there. Not to mention that Cécile was used to dealing with complicated personalities.

She lasted longer than Kallen.

But the result was the same.

-

Even the light okayu was too much for Suzaku's stomach to handle. Like most of his meals since he had gotten poisoned, it ended up in the bucket by his bedside.

Lelouch tutted as he sat him up and helped him out of another soiled T-shirt.

"You're too thin," he groaned when the action revealed the sick man's apparent ribs. Suzaku laughed tiredly.

"Like you can talk."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah. And my comment stands."

Lelouch did not argue further.

One arm through one sleeve of the fresh shirt, then the other, and that was enough effort for Suzaku to be covered in sweat already. Disheartened, he fell against Lelouch in a half-hug, arms limp against his sides.

"I feel disgusting," he groaned against the fabric of Lelouch's shirt. "I want a real shower."

Suzaku had been unable to stand without help for a while, now, and personal hygiene had been reduced to the bare minimum, with help from Doctor Hester. He craved an actual shower, with fancy soaps and shampoo and luxury products he knew Lelouch would undoubtedly procure for him. Suzaku was not one to complain much, usually, but the loss of his autonomy was really starting to get to him. That, and the permanent smell of sickness around him.

Lelouch was looking towards the bathroom pensively, making the face that said his brain was busy with plans and calculations. When he voiced his thoughts aloud, there was a hint of red dusting his cheeks.

"I could...help you get there, if you want," he said hesitantly, carefully adjusting the clean shirt on Suzaku. "I can find you a wheelchair if necessary. Then you can sit in the shower stall and..."

And he trailed away, gesturing vaguely towards the bathroom to illustrate, unable to put the offer into actual words. His face was definitely red, now, and Suzaku felt his own cheeks start to heat at the suggestion. He was not a prude, but seeing Lelouch all flustered at the idea of helping him shower made him strangely warm inside.

He looked from the bed to the open door, and to the bathroom door just visible beyond it, carefully evaluating the distance and the strength it would require to reach it, undress, go through the showering process, and then do everything again in reverse order. His face fell.

"I'd like that," he said earnestly. "Really. But I don't think I have the energy for it, even with your help."

Lelouch's distressed face made Suzaku regret his honesty - maybe this was an assessment he should have kept to himself.

"Sorry. When I'm better, though, I'll be sure to take you up on that offer."

Color was back on Lelouch's cheeks, and the ex-prince scoffed in mock offense.

"Please. When you're better, I'm taking you to the bathtub in my quarters, not some ridiculously small affair like this primitive shower stall."

Suzaku chuckled, feeling warm to the tip of his ears.

"Deal," he agreed.

They smiled at each other, awkward and flushed like the young men they never had much time to be, and as Lelouch helped him settle back into bed, Suzaku realized that he had been honest about looking forward to the experience.

"Anything else you'd like to do when this is over?" Lelouch asked once they were sitting comfortably again.

The question took Suzaku by surprise. Technically, if he made it out of this alive, he was supposed to go back to his Zero role - a life of masks and loneliness, sacrificing his happiness for the sake of others. Lelouch's survival, and subsequent reappearance in his life, had opened the way to new perspectives that he was not sure he had any right to consider.

But maybe there were a few things he was not ready to give up on just yet.

"I want to eat your cooking," he replied. He had not been able to enjoy food for a while, now.

Lelouch chuckled.

"You like my cooking?"

"Everyone loves your cooking."

"I know at least one person who would rather order overpriced pizza than eat my cooking."

"That's because you've never made a real pizza for her."

Lelouch laughed softly, and accepted the first item on Suzaku's list of things he wanted to do when he was better.

"Anything else?"

Suzaku looked down in thought. Their hands, resting on the bedspread, were just shy of touching each other. He moved his fingers to tenderly stroke the back of Lelouch's knuckles.

"I want to hold your hand," he added to the list.

Lelouch laced their fingers together.

"You can do that now," he said, his eyes bright.

Suzaku contemplated their joined hands and felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

"I know. And I want to do it again after all of this."

Lelouch's breath hitched.

"You'd better live through it, then," he responded.

Suzaku made himself a promise.

"I'll try my best."

-

CC, too, decided to pay the prisoner a visit. She went in, sat across from her, and said nothing.

The woman's patience held for a good ten minutes, and then she huffed in annoyance, demanding to know who she was.

The witch tilted her head.

"I am CC," she said simply.

When no elaboration came, the woman grimaced with frustration, but said nothing in return. She pouted for the rest of the encounter.

Eventually, CC got up and stretched.

"You're a boring old woman," she said, and left the prisoner alone to her indignation.

-

Lelouch observed it all from the screen of his laptop, sitting on Suzaku's bed - Kallen's, Cécile's, even CC's conclusions gave him nothing new to work with.

He was losing hope. Time was running away from him, Suzaku's health was only worsening, and they had nothing substantial to help with the antidote so far.

His eyes burned. His head hurt. His eyelids were shutting on their own. To his right, Suzaku was curled into a ball, shaking and shivering feverishly under his many blankets.

"L-Lelouch," he stuttered after a while. "I'm cold. You're tired. And that bed is big enough for two."

Color high on his cheeks, Lelouch finally yielded and slipped under the covers with him.

-

When he came to, a few hours later, it took him a minute to find his bearings.

Someone was calling his name, somewhere close. There was a sense of urgency in the air - in the voice, and in the back of his mind. But he was exhausted beyond compare, and the pull of sleep was strong, stronger than usual. He was warm, he was sleepy, he was safe. Someone was breathing softly near him, curled up close to his chest. Someone else was shaking his shoulder gently.

"Lelouch," Kallen was whispering. "I'm sorry to wake you, but Lloyd wants to talk to you."

She was blushing, he noticed in the dim light. She was blushing because...right. He had fallen asleep in Suzaku's bed, and they were snuggled together under the covers they had been sharing.

"Lloyd wants to see you," Kallen insisted. "It sounded urgent."

Although he was loath to move, Lelouch was up in a flash, leaving Kallen in charge of watching over Suzaku.

-

"So, here's the newest theory," Lloyd started, pushing up his glasses. "There are two different poisons. One to kill, and another one that triggers the side-effects Suzaku is suffering from. That old witch mixed the two and made one crazy mixture to enact her vengeance."

Lelouch found a chair to collapse into. He had a feeling that this was going to make his incessant headache worse.

"Please elaborate."

Cécile took over. Like everyone around Lelouch these days, she and Lloyd looked extremely tired. They, too, were putting in extra hours in the hope of saving Suzaku, and Lelouch felt a new wave of gratefulness towards them despite his own exhaustion.

"We're thinking she created a poison from a rare plant found in her native region. That's how it passed Zero's security tests - it was completely unknown until now. She most likely tested it on the people whose deaths you were investigating, before this whole mess. The analysis we did checks out."

Lelouch fought against a sudden wave of dizziness. The analysis checked out. Which confirmed that these dead people had been infected with the same thing currently running through Suzaku's veins.

"And the other?"

"The other is responsible for most of the symptoms Suzaku is suffering from."

"How did you reach this conclusion?"

"The people she killed in her village did not appear to have suffered in the least. And the scientific teams are almost unanimous."

Almost, huh. Lelouch was not sure he liked where this was going.

"As of now, this is just a theory," Lloyd resumed talking. "But at the rate Suzaku's health is deteriorating, we won't have time to make two antidotes. We're gonna have to choose."

Oh, God.

They were asking for his permission to take a huge gamble with Suzaku's life.

"We're nearly certain that this is the only correct conclusion," Cécile said sympathetically. "But time is running out, and we need your authorization to prioritize one of the two antidotes if we're going to save him."

Lelouch tried to school his breathing.

"Can you tell which is which?"

Lloyd nodded enthusiastically, but Cécile looked uncertain.

The room swam around him. What if they were wrong? What if the side effects were permanent? What if they could kill Suzaku, too?

"I need to think about it," Lelouch blurted. Lloyd looked about to interrupt, most likely to remind him that time was of the essence, something Lelouch was already very much aware of. "Give me two hours. And I'll get back to you."

Lelouch rubbed two fingers against his temple to try and focus instead of panicking. He had options to weigh, information to look up. He had to cross-reference and double-check everything in search of clues, of anything to confirm the theory and help him make this terrible decision. His notes, his files - he had to go through them immediately.

That was when he realized that he had left his laptop in Suzaku's room.

-

Lelouch stormed in to find his fear confirmed: Suzaku was having an audio conversation with the prisoner. He walked furiously over to the bed and snapped the laptop shut in Suzaku's face.

Both blinked at each other in shock.

Kallen tried to intervene.

"Lelouch, please, it's-"

"Why didn't you stop him?" Lelouch barked at her.

She startled at his outburst, but frowned and stood her ground.

"I'm sorry, but it was the right thing to do. We've all talked to her, without any success. You can't expect him to just...sit here and do nothing."

On the bed, head bowed and shoulders down, Suzaku said nothing to defend himself. Lelouch had seen enough - he grabbed the laptop, and was turning away to leave when Suzaku grabbed his arm.

"Lelouch, wait. Please."

The hold on his wrist was not the reason Lelouch froze - what stopped him in his tracks was how unbelievably weak it was, and how a simple movement of his arm would probably suffice to break it. Sitting up in a hurry had already robbed Suzaku of his breath, and he was swaying dangerously, using his other hand to brace himself and avoid falling back against the cushions.

Lelouch stilled, more to prevent Suzaku from hurting himself further than because he wanted to hear his excuses. From the corner of his eye, he caught Kallen quietly slipping out of the room.

Suzaku, his breath whistling, released Lelouch's arm and gestured between the two of them.

"If we're going to do this, I don't want any misunderstanding," he wheezed, then looked helplessly down at himself in frustration. "This isn't how I want to go. You're all too involved, now, it's not just about me anymore. I don't want to become a failed rescue attempt that haunts and hurts you for years. You deserve better."

He looked at Lelouch pleadingly.

"I can't make any promises for what will come after," Suzaku went on, in a fatigued but determined voice. "But I swear that I will fight this one thing. Geass or not."

He was shaking with exhaustion, drenched in sweat, and out of breath, but his eyes were clear and true.

There was a buzz and a ringing noise clashing in Lelouch's painful head, and his heart was beating a disjointed rhythm in addition to the cacophony. He was too afraid to believe what Suzaku was saying. His oldest friend, his Knight, his lover, was finally agreeing to fight for his own life, albeit temporarily.

For them. For him.

"You're really going to fight? Until the end?"

"I am," Suzaku replied, and there was no lie in his eyes.

Lelouch released a trembling sigh, set the laptop down on the bedside table, and sat heavily at the edge of the bed, looking away from him.

"I'll hold you to that promise, you know."

Suzaku gave him space, not moving yet from where he was sitting precariously.

"I know."

Lelouch decided to trust the honesty in his tired voice. Sighing, he turned sideways and brought his legs up on the bed so he could rest against some of the cushions.

"Did you learn anything, at least?" he asked, as a sign of good faith.

Suzaku instantly looked relieved to be on speaking terms again.

"Yes," he said, scooting gingerly and painfully back under his covers. "But...I'm not sure it will help."

"Try me," Lelouch shrugged. At this point, any new information was welcome.

Suzaku took a deep breath, and launched into an account of his discussion with the woman who had poisoned him.

"She had four children," he started hesitantly. "And they died. All four of them, one after the other. But...I think you knew that already."

"I did," Lelouch confirmed. That was precisely what he had tried to keep from Suzaku.

Torako Nakayama's entire family was dead.

It had taken him a while to pick up the right threads and make all the connections, because she and her husband were sterile - they had adopted orphans of war from other Areas, but not officially so the names did not match. Her husband had died during the invasion of the Britannian troops. Her eldest son had died in the first F.L.E.I.J.A blast. One of her daughters happened to live in the damaged area and died of her injuries a few days later. One other was a civilian that had been killed in Narita, like Shirley's father. The last one had been lost during the Black Rebellion.

Except for the loss of her husband, and an extreme case of terrible bad luck, Zero was the common denominator between the deaths of all her family members. Of course, Lelouch believed that she really should have been angry at Britannia, instead, for pushing her people to rebellion, but he could see how losing four children to the same man could have drawn her to channel all her hatred towards Zero. Without him, maybe her children would still be alive.

"She went back to her research after losing her family, to create a deadly poison," Suzaku concluded. "It took her a few years to make it. You know the rest."

Lelouch nodded. There was nothing in Suzaku's report that he did not know already, and nothing that would help. The woman was smart, but her sanity had slipped with the loss of her children. He was afraid that there would be no reasoning with her in such profound grief.

"The people she killed were her friends," Suzaku went on. "She tested her poison on them because they begged her to help them die."

Lelouch's heart skipped a beat. He did not dare breathe.

"Wh-what?"

This. This was new.

"She told me. I didn't reveal anything about my identity, but she figured out I was the victim of her poison, and so I asked her to tell me about herself, as a favor to a dying man," Suzaku said, avoiding Lelouch's pained gaze as he recounted this part. "Two of the people she killed were terminally ill, but they were too poor to afford treatment so I doubt there are records of it. She gave them her poison so that they would not suffer. The third one had a horrible life story and implored her to let him die."

It was like the floor had gone out from under Lelouch's feet.

"But they had none of your symptoms," he said with bated breath.

"Yeah, there's no way she put them through any sort of pain. She must have made two versions of the poison, or something."

Lelouch's hands were trembling. What were the odds? What were the odds that Suzaku, by going against his orders, would miraculously find the one piece of information he was desperately looking for?

Suzaku was puzzled by his sudden silence and the shock on his face.

"...Lelouch?" he tried.

Lelouch could have kissed him. So he did.

And then he ran to find Lloyd.

-

"Con-gra-tu-la-tions!" the scientist shouted happily, and immediately called orders to his teams.

Lelouch found the nearest wall and slumped against it in relief.

Things were looking up.

-

Lloyd and Cécile making progress on a real antidote was extremely welcome news, because shortly after Suzaku had shared that vital information, he had suffered another nosebleed and used the bucket twice to throw up bile. The episode had sapped him of what little strength he had been holding on to, and he had slipped into an exhausted stupor after that, his consciousness coming and going. Lelouch had not left the room since. Every time his ailing lover fell asleep, Lelouch was terrified that he would never wake up again.

Suzaku was awake, for now, lying on his side, his head pillowed on Lelouch's lap. They were past embarrassment and blushing, at this point. Their closeness was becoming a lifeline.

The japanese man weaved their fingers together, tangling and untangling their hands, staring at them for long minutes at a time. His eyes followed their every movement with an odd intensity.

"You look fascinated," Lelouch commented.

"I am," the former soldier responded, his voice weak. The delicate movements stopped as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "And my eyes hurt."

For the tenth time in the last hour, Lelouch cursed the poison running in Suzaku's veins.

The tender caress of a thumb on the back of his hand turned his attention away from the vicious anger.

"Can you believe where we are now?" Suzaku wondered. "After everything that's happened?"

Lelouch forced himself to breathe, slowly and carefully, and gave in to the temptation of running his other hand through Suzaku's hair, damp again with fever.

"Yes. I can. Are you having second thoughts?"

"No. This feels right."

Lelouch's hand stilled in his hair.

"I'm glad you're here," Suzaku said tiredly, filling Lelouch's heart with fragile warmth.

Yes. This felt right. Lelouch had dreamed of this so often before - Suzaku, snuggled against him in bed, smiling and holding his hand close to his chest. No more war, no more fighting. Just him and Suzaku, stupid and in love, forgetting about the outside world for as long as they dared.

It was everything he wanted, except for the fact that Suzaku was sick and dying.

He squeezed their hands together, and Suzaku squeezed back.

The room was calm for a while. Both men were tired beyond comprehension, and waiting for Nunnally to come back from another interview with Torako Nakayama. There was nothing to do but wait, and hope for the best. Lelouch let his mind drift, focusing on Suzaku's warmth against him and the sound of his soft breathing.

Somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, he felt him shift at his side, and was instantly alert. The younger man was sitting up, albeit with difficulty, rubbing his eyes and blinking hard. Frowning, he looked around the room, squinting at various objects around him.

Lelouch suddenly had a terrible feeling.

"...Suzaku? What is it?"

His knight's breathing was quickening alarmingly, and he turned to Lelouch, eyes unfocused, trying to rein in panic. His hands flew to his face, then hovered before him until they connected with Lelouch's chest, horror dawning on his features.

Lelouch grabbed Suzaku's shoulders to steady him, and tried to catch the green eyes rolling back and forth frantically.

"Suzaku?" he repeated, dreading the explanation. "Please. You're scaring me."

"Lelouch," Suzaku breathed in a terrified whisper, and confirmed Lelouch's fears. "I can't...I can't see you."

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The first thing Suzaku noticed was the wind on his face.

After hiding behind the Zero mask for an entire year, and then being confined to his rooms for days on end, sick and feverish, the cool touch of it on his brow was heavenly. The gentle breeze tickled the hair on his forehead, and held the smallest hint of a flowery fragrance, fresh and delicate.

He breathed it all in.

The next thing he noticed was the swirl of shadows dancing on the inside of his eyelids - when he opened his eyes, he found that he could see again.

He was lying on his back in the shade of an immense tree. Above him, the bright green foliage swayed to the rhythm of the wind and danced with the filtering rays of the sun. The leaves made a rustling sound that he had not heard in years and was music to his ears.

Suzaku took another careful, deep breath, inhaling the nostalgic aroma of a carefree afternoon in the woods. In the peaceful moment, he realized that he was not in pain anymore.

"This is a beautiful place," said a voice to his right, and Suzaku's heart stood still.
 
Sitting with her back to the imposing tree, skirts elegantly arranged around herself, was Euphemia li Britannia.

Euphie.

She was radiant as ever as he looked on, frozen. Euphie gazed at him with a peaceful smile on her lips and love in her eyes. The dress she wore was elegant and simple, white and flowing. Her long hair cascaded down her shoulders, a lone strand catching the wind here and there. She sat with her hands delicately folded in her lap, and the ground around her was covered in daisies.

"Am I dead?" he asked, finally sitting up.

He dared not touch her.

Euphie tilted her head to the side as if in thought.

"No," she said with another smile. "Not yet."

Suzaku blinked confusedly. Where was he then? Because Euphie was gone from his world, of that he was tragically certain. And yet there she was, beaming and beautiful, looking like she held all the secrets of the universe. Her hair and eyes occasionally caught a ray of sun passing through the leaves and made her shine all the brighter.

She was like a star in the sky, illuminating the garden they were in by simply being there. Belatedly noticing the landscape around her like he would have the background of a painted portrait, Suzaku took a closer look at their surroundings.

They were in the middle of a vast clearing. The grass was green with spring, the forest around them lush and dense. In the distance, grey mountains towered on all sides, sheltering them from the outside world. Behind them, on an upwards slope, stood a small chalet, with wooden walls and a thatched roof.

Suzaku frowned. There was something oddly familiar about the house and its adjoining garden, but he could not place it.

"What is this place?" he mused aloud.

"A halt," Euphie answered. "And a choice."

She did not elaborate.

A choice, huh.

In the rows of trees far behind her, Suzaku's eyes found a little path, small but well trodden, that seemed to slither through the vegetation and lead to a place he could not discern from where he was sitting. What caught his attention was this: instead of gradually vanishing into the growing shadows of the woods beyond it, the path appeeared to lead into some kind of diffuse light somewhere far, far beyond the borders of their little garden.

"Where does this go?" he asked.

Euphie's face was unreadable. She did not spare the path a single glance.

"On," she replied simply.

Intrigued, he made to get up and check it out, only to find Euphie's delicate hand on his arm.

It was warm. His heart ached with sorrow as the memory of the last time he had held her hand in his threatened to submerge him - her cold, frail and trembling hand, fragile in his grip while Euphie smiled through her last breath. As if their roles were suddenly reversed, this Euphie found his hand and cradled it in both of hers, holding it close to her chest. Unlike then, her fingers were soft, steady, and warm. When Suzaku looked up, there was a curious wisdom in her eyes - it was an odd expression on sweet Euphie's face.

Suzaku gave in to the serenity. The flow of time was no longer relevant. In this garden, in this moment, he felt safe.

He could have sat with her forever.

There was a distant noise from the house behind them, bringing Suzaku's attention back to it. Had he noticed, before, that the lights were on? Had he noticed the moving shadow behind the flowery curtains?

Euphie gave one last caress to his hand then released it delicately, softly pushing it away.

Surprised, and reluctant to let her go, Suzaku looked back questioningly - but the princess brought her hands back to her lap and gave him an enigmatic smile.

"This is not my choice to make," she explained, and the words made no sense to him.

There was another clanking noise from the house.

Suzaku got to his feet and started moving towards it. Something called out to him, something strange, an unknown itch that he needed to scratch.

"Will you be there when I come back?" he asked Euphie.

"Of course," she smiled. "I'll always be there for you, Suzaku."

Oh, how he had missed her. He took one last good look at her, sitting among the flowers like the subject of a painting, imprinted the image in his memories, and turned back to the house up on the hill.

It was a small cabin, with two stories, that looked a little rudimentary but very cosy. The walls were made of wood, and the two windows he could see on the ground floor had flowerpots sitting on their windowsills. Just under the thatched roof hid another small window, that probably opened onto a bedroom of some kind.

As he got closer, the noise came again: it was an odd sort of clanking, like the sound pots and pans made when you moved them around. Was someone cooking? Suzaku tried peeking through a window, but could not see anything through the curtains except vague movements.

He looked back once more, puzzled. Euphie's encouraging smile was all the answer he got.

Exploring further, he spotted a little door to the side.

There was nothing fancy about it - it was just a plain, simple wooden door, unassuming and unadorned. But there was something about it that sang, loud and clear, something about it that made Suzaku take a step towards it, and then two, and then five. Something incredibly powerful.

The sounds inside became louder, and turned into the familiar music of a busy kitchen - plates, and measuring cups, and then came the sweet smell of rich pastries filtering through the cracks of the door. Warm light peeked through the gaps between the wall and the doorframe. Suzaku's hand went to the handle like it belonged there, and he heard the hum of a deep voice through the heavy door, singing an old tune that he knew from somewhere.

Beyond the door was warmth, and joy, and all the things Suzaku usually kept carefully hidden, locked away behind locks and keys.

There was someone there. Someone he longed to see.

Suzaku looked back towards the garden, to the path in the woods from before. It looked so far away, now, obscured by the trees, hiding in a distant future.

Euphie was nowhere to be found.

Suzaku turned the handle.

-

(Somewhere, the right gears turned, the skies cleared, and Fate gave the tiniest push in the right direction.)

(Somewhere, Euphemia smiled.)

-

The world whistled, loud and painful. Surely his eardrums were going to pop. Everything was white and bright, like the sun at the end of a day, or the beginning of another.

Suzaku opened his eyes.

Arthur was licking his cheek, and her whiskers tickled his nose. His brain felt sluggish - it took him several minutes of dazedly contemplating the feline routine before he realized that he really was no longer blind. The blindfold was gone from his face - Arthur was using it as a blanket.

This was real. He was too exhausted for it to be another dream, felt like his muscles were made of lead and his lungs were on fire. His body ached like he had been in a dozen knightmare explosions, and come within an inch of his life every time. His head throbbed, his temples beat a painful rhythm against his brain, and he could barely feel his fingers and toes.

But the pain was proof that he was alive. He could see, and he was alive.

There was a weight on his upper body, much heavier than Arthur.

Lelouch was asleep on his chest.

So many feelings filled Suzaku's heart at the sight, overflowing it with warmth, love, and the kind of light that burned brighter than the sun.

Suzaku had thought his fate was sealed, back then - he had not really expected to wake up after falling prey to the last of his troubled naps. Oh, he had kept his promise and fought to the very end, but the last time he had closed his eyes had felt like a final goodbye to the world, an unavoidable farewell to the people he loved, after his beaten body had finally given up on him.

He had not expected to see Lelouch's elegant and handsome features ever again. But here he was, grey with fatigue and slumbering uneasily, resting with his head pillowed against Suzaku's heart.

It took several tries, but Suzaku eventually managed to painstakingly bring a hand up so he could caress the sleeping man's temple. The britannian unconsciously leaned into the touch, and a weak smile tugged at the corner of his lips - before he started awake with a gasp.

Arthur huffed indignantly and jumped off the bed.

Lelouch stared incredulously at Suzaku, eyes wide and breathing fast. His mouth gaped, and his lower lip was trembling.

"Hey," Suzaku managed to articulate on a raspy voice.

Lelouch threw himself into his arms and burst into tears, trembling uncontrollably.

"Suzaku," he sobbed. "Oh God, Suzaku."

His embrace was heavy with immeasurable relief and love, and all the hope and healing Suzaku needed. Lelouch was the light that had guided him in the dark, the music that called him back from the gates of death, the future he had glimpsed somewhere in his dreams.

Lelouch was the path Suzaku had chosen, in a place he did not remember.

Finding the strength to hug him back was a struggle, and the tubes Suzaku was hooked up to did not help matters in the least, hindering his efforts. Still, he managed to grip the back of Lelouch's shirt and hold on weakly, hoping the gesture would be enough to convey his feelings.

Meanwhile, the noise eventually woke up the other inhabitants of the room, whose first impression of the scene upon opening their eyes was Lelouch sobbing hysterically into Suzaku's arms. Before anyone could get the wrong idea, Suzaku did his best to raise a tired arm and prove that he was not, in fact, dead.

"I live," he said in a very small voice.

He heard the general relief in the room more than he saw it. The grateful exhales, the sound of someone grabbing the wall for support, the relieved laugh that escaped CC's lips somewhere beyond where Lelouch was crying in his arms.

Lelouch let out something that was half a sob and half a very wet laugh at the commotion, and finally released Suzaku from his embrace so the others could see the miracle for themselves.

One by one, they gathered around his bed.

Nunnally, obvious tear tracks on her face but wearing a smile worth a thousand suns.

Kallen, smirking with suspiciously bright eyes, her fingers flashing the sign of victory.

CC, winking happily at him as she hugged her plush toy close to her.

And Lelouch, who held his hand so tight that it brought back the feeling in it in mere seconds.

Lelouch, who had brought him back from the clutches of death.

Lelouch, whose tears did not relent as he gazed at him in indescribable gratitude.

Lelouch.

"Feel," Nunnally had told him when he had first gone blind.

Right now, Suzaku felt nothing but love.

-

(Sometime later, Torako Nakayama tried to take her own life, but was stopped in time by one of Nunnally's trusted security guards. She was then sent to a very decent prison, along with a promise.

"Watch and see," Nunnally told her with absolute confidence. "We're going to make this world a better place.")

-

The letter she had sent was thrown into a fire somewhere. CC waited for the fumes to evaporate, then toasted marshmallows over the embers.

-

(A few weeks later)

On Lelouch's orders, Jeremiah stopped the car close enough to the chalet that Suzaku would not have to walk far to reach the door. The young man was recovering well, but he was still convalescent, and got winded easily. Lelouch got out first and went around the car to help him.

"I can walk just fine, you know," Suzaku said on a laugh, but he accepted Lelouch's arm nonetheless.

"I know," Lelouch replied. "But I'm not taking any chances."

They thanked Jeremiah for the ride, and the orange-eyed man took his leave, driving away to the little lookout he would be staying at to keep a discreet watch of the perimeter during Lelouch and Suzaku's secret stay.

It was sunny. The trees were swaying in the wind, and the clearing smelled like the promise of spring. At the windows of the little house, Lelouch had added flowerpots, and the sweet fragrance of camellias reached their nostrils even as they made their slow way towards the wooden door, to the side of the house.

Lelouch unlocked the door and turned to the man at his shoulder. Suzaku was gazing at the clearing, a dreamy smile on his face. He was still pale, and a little emaciated, but a new fire burned in his eyes. He was seeing far more and further than the garden they were in - past the tall tree, past the field of daisies, past the forest around them. His head was turned into the wind, feeling the breeze on his face, and he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in pure bliss.

Lelouch smiled in turn, and his arm settled on the younger man's waist.

"Ready?"

Suzaku's eyes were bright with joy when he opened them.

"Ready," he replied, and together they crossed the threshold.

The inside of their small retreat was exactly as Lelouch had described it to Suzaku, back when the latter was caught in the throes of fever. Cosy, warm, intimate, with a little couch, flowery curtains and a cute but functional kitchen. To the back of the living room, a wooden staircase led to the only bedroom upstairs.

It was small - but that was all they needed for now. Suzaku looked at it like it was the grand palace of his dreams.

"It's perfect," he breathed, wonder in his voice. Lelouch could not help proud satisfaction at the assessment.

They settled into the small couch, leaving the unpacking of their things for later.

"Well," Lelouch said, reclining into the comfortable pillows. "Here we are."

Suzaku let himself collapse next to him, and if it was a coincidence that he ended up leaning against Lelouch's side he did not correct it. He smiled anew, dropping his head on Lelouch's shoulder.

"Yeah. Here we are."

The simple words were enough to fill Lelouch's heart with immense joy. Yes, there they finally were - after war, hatred, betrayal, pain and death had tried to tear them apart.

They had been stronger than all of it.

Together, Lelouch and Suzaku could do anything.

"Is there something you want to do in particular?" he prompted.

There were many things he could think of - explore the house, prepare dinner, go for a walk in the garden.

Cuddle. Relax.

Suzaku's fingers found his.

"I want to hold your hand," he replied.

Lelouch's heart stilled.

Hold your hand.

Eat your cooking.

Live.

Lelouch squeezed back. He turned his head and pecked Suzaku on the lips tenderly.

They could stay here for now, happy and content, holding each other close, their fingers laced together. Nunnally, Kallen, and CC were taking care of things during their absence. The rest of the world could wait. They had done their share.

It was time they took a breather.

Alive, happy, and in love.

One day, Lelouch would tell Suzaku about the Code bearers he had started investigating.

But not today.

Fin