Days Without Sun

Epilogue: Healing Part II

The French doors to the balcony were open and a warm afternoon breeze swept the fragrance of blooms from the garden below into the bright expanse of Misaki's suite.

In addition to the natural light coming in numerous large windows, the overheads were on too. They had rarely been off since Misaki had been settled here and never at night.

Beyond the comfortable sitting area, in the room's double-sized bed, Akihiko and Misaki were entwined together amidst soft, white sheets.

Akihiko was reading. He lay on his side with one arm stretched out, half beneath his pillow; a novel loosely clasped in his hand. Misaki was curled into him, his forehead, now lush with tousled brown locks, rested against his chest. Akihiko's other arm was draped over Misaki's shoulder; the long fingers of this hand moved only occasionally to flick to a new page.

Sighing, Akihiko closed weary eyes and allowed the book to fall from his fingers.

It had been another very long night. Not as bad as some... thankfully. But still...

Pale eyes opened again and Akihiko lifted his head slightly. His gaze swept over his beloved's features. As always, he felt his heart filled with a multitude of emotions.

Misaki's skin had regained some of its color, helped by the short walks Akihiko coaxed him into out on the grounds now his second set of casts were off, and from the snatches of time they caught out on the balcony.

It still perplexed Akihiko somewhat that, rather than cherish open spaces, now finally freed from his imprisonment, Misaki seemed terrified of them. He would only venture out when accompanied by someone he trusted and even in this he was often reluctant.

This condition, Akihiko had learned, was called "agoraphobia."

He'd been made to understand just recently that this fear of Misaki's was triggered in no small part by his initial abduction from the beach and the complex neurological changes wrought by his time as Korovin's captive. This was just part of an unfortunately vast amount of new information he'd come by of late.

He eyed his slumbering angel sadly.

Akihiko recalled a time past when he'd told Misaki that he wanted to lock him away. There was a bitter irony in this memory now that Misaki was all but glued to his side and his task at present was to set him free, to force him gradually back into the world.

Looking down at his boy, fitfully sleeping, Akihiko was determined to be as kind in this as was possible, patient too, and to help Misaki in any way he could. Although he already knew it was going to be excruciating for both of them.

Studying the sweet face below him, Akihiko longed to reach out and stroke Misaki's cheek but he refrained: Misaki could still be easily set off by unexpected touches, particularly when he slept.

At least his night terrors have decreased.

It had been two days since Misaki's last EMDR session and two nights without him waking up screaming. Akihiko wished Dr. Omari would do the sessions more often, they helped so much, but then he recalled how terribly wrung out Misaki had been when he'd returned from his last one.

He'd heard reports after the fact, that his poor boy had wailed almost throughout the entire two hour treatment. As a result, Misaki's voice was still little more than a whisper at present.

No, they both needed the breaks in between. Besides, it wasn't as if Misaki didn't have other therapies to fill his days, not to mention physical therapy for his legs, and his group sessions with the other surrvivors.

Akihiko felt a flare of ache in his bones and grunted softly. He carefully shifted stiff limbs, hoping not to rouse his drowsing partner.

While Misaki was away with all of these "appointments," he was getting various treatments himself. Akihiko wondered how long Misaki would continue to believe that the port in his arm was for the "vitamins" his "stupid Usagi" needed after taking such poor care of himself while he was gone.