August Flowers

Part 7: In Pieces

One crimson eye peeled open. Sheer white drapes framing a tall open window which permitted warm sunlight reflected off of flawless hardwood floors. A large bed of white sheets; high end but reserved furniture. Gojyo's mind turned over this new information slowly and with growing suspicion.

Not my bed... 

He scowled at the headache spreading behind his eyes. 

Not even my house. 

He struggled to sit up. 

I must've gone somewhere else instead of going straight home with Hakkai after the show. Hanging out with him was the whole point of going out to the damn theater anyway and---what---I ditched him and went off with some chick?! 

"Dammit!" Growling, he rolled to sit up and was rewarded by an explosion of pain in his lower back that laid him out flat that wrenched a strangled gasp out of him. "OW--OH GOD!"

The white bed sheet covering him fell away from his bare chest as he wrestled to sit up. A massive twisted scar spanned across his lower midsection and continued all the way around his middle. 

Staring it in confusion, Gojyo mumbled, "What the hell is this?" Gingerly touched the thick scar tissue, becoming increasingly mortified.  

"You're awake." A familiar middle aged man in white garb, shaved head. Basket of folded white laundry in hand. Edward from the temple. "I'll go let Sanzo know."

"Ed?" I'm at the temple?! Gojyo covered his bare chest with the sheet and instantly felt stupid after doing it. "Hey man, how---and he's gone. Great."

A few minutes later, Sanzo appeared in the doorway. He kept his distance and stared at him.

Gojyo grinned tightly. "Would your holy highness please explain what I'm doing here?"

Lifted his chin, condescending glare that ticked off Gojyo. He sighed loudly.

"I don't need your sighs, you jerk," said Gojyo tightly, "I need answers. Like, how did I get here? Where is my shirt? What is THIS?" He indicated the huge scar encircling his waist just below the navel. 

Goku burst in, narrowly missing Sanzo who sidestepped him in a practiced manner, and tackled Gojyo in a possessive child-like embrace. "Gojyo! You're alive!" 

"Goku--?!" Gojyo peeled the immortal teen from around his neck. "Calm down! Calm down, monkey, and maybe you can tell me. This bastard won't say a damn thing. Tell me, buddy, how did I get here?" 

Goku sat cross legged on the large bed beside him. "You were ambushed." 

Gojyo scoffed with a glare of incredulity. "Come again?" 

"You and Hakkai. The fight burned down half your neighborhood. You have no idea how scared we were!" 

Sanza was leaning in the doorway with his arms folded, head tilted quizzically. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Trying to wrap his head around this report of events he didn't remember being a part of, Gojyo frowned at the Sanzo priest and chose his words. "There was a show at the Ugly House Theater. I thought it was gonna suck, but it was actually pretty good. I don't normally go for stuff like that, but Hakkai's into it." He realized Hakkai wasn't in the room and glanced from one friend to the other for a clue. "He bought stuff at the souvenir shop... We ate at that Japanese place on 22nd Street... Then we... We went home."

His memory came back in pieces. 

He recalled dining at the restaurant where they had talked animatedly with the energetic server. Remembered walking up the walkway to the front door. Hakkai had thanked him, glad he got to see the show before it closed. A smile of appreciation. That happened. That was the whole point of the damn excursion.

When they got home, Hakkai's hands had been full of souvenir bags and boxed take-home containers from the restaurant, and thus Gojyo had plucked his friend's keys from his friend's pants pocket and unlocked the door. Grabbed the door knob. Opened the door. 

But that was it. 

I didn't go home with anyone else. Gojyo shook his head and looked up helplessly, shrugging. "We went home."  

"Someone was waiting for you two inside your house when you returned from the show Sunday night. Four to five attackers." 

Fear gibbered at the edge of Gojyo's mind. He didn't recall anything like that. "What are you talking about?"

"Goku and I went to what's left of your house. When you walked through the door first, you were blindsided by a blitz attack from inside but Hakkai was far enough out of the way to be injured and able to fight." 

Yeah, about Hakkai. Gojyo scowled. "Where is he?" 

"You were probably legally dead at some point."

Creepy but not what I asked. 

An intense stillness permeated the room, where Goku avoided eye contact by staring down at the bed. 

Their silence made Gojyo's skin crawl. "Where. Is. Hakkai?"

Sanzo sighed. "We think the surprise attack that incapacitated you probably partially or entirely cut you in half." 

Breaking out in a cold sweat, Gojyo grinned crookedly. "Dude, that's impossible---nobody survives that---." He tried not to look down at the thick scar that proved Sanzo correct. 

"We also think Hakkai was a reckless bastard and drained himself to put you back together." 

Gojyo's eyes widened slowly in horror. You think? Well, I sure as hell hope you're wrong because that degree of healing would've--. "Don't dance around the truth, you self-righteous bastard, and tell me where he is and how he's doin'." 

Sanzo hesitated. "He was here for a few hours but he needed life-saving treatments that this temple isn't capable of, although I've called in a few favors from priests around the world and---" 

"How hard is the truth, smart ass! 

"He's alive and at the hospital." 

"Thank you!" Gojyo threw the sheets aside. "Let's go see him." 

*     *     *    *  

Gojyo, Sanzo, and Goku stood side by side looking through the glass wall of an ICU room where a pallid patient with short dark hair was swamped by monitors, tubes and lines under sickly florescent lighting. A nurse was in the room, doing something. The nurses were always doing something. 

At length, Sanzo said, "Gojyo--." 

"You tried to warn me," said Gojyo, his voice strange. "I know."