The Man Who Ran Off With The Moon - [ Tsukkiyama Art Thief AU! ]

Alive

"What? No, What?"
Tsukishima's voice was rising in pitch as he panicked. He froze for a fraction of a second, a million questions racing through his mind, then took out his phone.
Yamaguchi struggled to raise his arm, an attempt to take the device, but was only able to lightly push against Tsukishima.
"No hospital.. Can't do a hospital-"
Tsukishima stood up, "You're bleeding all over the place- You-What the fuck?"
His face was contorted with pain, but he spoke in a measured tone that was unfamiliar.
"It's just a scratch. I can tell you what to do, if I don't pass out."
Tsukishima leaned back, placing his hands on either side of his head, bringing his knees into his chest.

This isn't happening. This isn't happening. This isn't real. This is a bad dream. This-

"Tsukki."
He turned, reeling slightly, "Why can't we go to a HOSPITAL, and-and- where have you BEEN-"
Yamaguchi laid back on the ground, "We just can't go to a hospital. It's dangerous."
He ignored the second part of the question, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Tsukki, please."

Tsukishima stood up, "Don't, stop. Don't do that-"
"Roll me on my back."
"Where have you been-"
"I need you to roll me on my back."
"It's been eight fucking years."
"I need you to roll me on my-"
"Everybody thinks you're DEAD, I thought you were-"
Yamaguchi let out another gasp, "I will be, if you don't-"
His head rolled back as he gasped for breath. Tsukishima immediately kneeled down, placing his hands on his upper body.
"Just, just gently. W-with the shoulders. Thank you."

Yamaguchi's eyes fluttered as he struggled to speak. Tsukishima noticed his own hands were shaking badly, his pulse bouncing inside of him. He rolled the other man onto his back.
"Now I need y-you to get s-something like tweezers. If you d-don't have that, you'll have to use your h-hands."
A new surge of panic flooded to Tsukishima's consciousness, "What for?"
"I think you k-know."
Tsukishima stood up again, clenching his fingers tight to cease their violent trembling. The blood had spread all over Yamaguchi's shirt.
"I'll be right back."
"Tsukki?"
"It's just going to be a second. It's going to be ok."
It was a reassurance almost equally meant for himself.

Tsukishima sprinted into the main house, flipping on light switches. "KUROO!"
He darted up the stairs, throwing open the door to the master bedroom. Kuroo was in his boxers, a towel wrapped around his head, reading a heavy book.
"Kuroo!"
"Well, look who-"
"No, no I'm serious. I need you to come to the apartment right now."

Kuroo immediately absorbed the erratic energy coming from his friend. He swung his feet off the bed, "Ok, ok. Let me just put on some-"
"No, we have to-"

The panic swelling up in Tsukishima made him feel dizzy. He pitched backwards on his heels, his heart pounded in a dreadful frenzy.
Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi was here. He was-
He had to grab the edge of the door to support himself.
"What's going on?"
Tsukishima tried to breathe, to steady.
"What do you need me to do?"
"I-I need you to get a first aid kit. And the clamp thing, the thin one you keep for, for the test tube stuff, the chemistry stuff-"
Kuroo grabbed Tsukishima by the shoulders, fixing him with a forced calmness. "It's ok. I know what you're talking about. Just breathe."

Within a minute, they were running up the apartment steps. Kuroo's face was painted with a dark worry, a confusion that transfigured to shock as soon as they entered the small room.
"Yamaguchi? You-"

Yamaguchi seized with pain again, causing Kuroo to immediately cease talking and kneel beside him, his wet hair pressed flat against his face. Tsukishima held up the thin, plier like test tub clamp as Kuroo opened the first aid kit.
"Will this work?"
"Y-yes."
Kuroo's eyes widened.
"C-cut the shirt off, then-"
Tsukishima grabbed the medical scissors from the kit, but his hands shook too heavily to maintain a proper hold on them. Kuroo took them back and sliced through Yamaguchi's clothes in a numb shock.
After being cleaned off, the wound was revealed to be small and circular, wedged above where his organs rested, just below the lung. It was the tiniest, luckiest gap possible.
"The-the bullet has to come out now. I need something to bite down on."
Tsukishima ripped the hem of his own shirt, twisting it.

Kuroo took slow measured breaths. Yamaguchi suppressed his cry of pain, grinding his teeth into the cloth.
As he carefully maneuvered the tong like tool down the path of the bullet, Kuroo muttered under his breath, "I am not this kind of doctor. I am not this kind of doctor."
In any other time, Tsukishima would've reminder Kuroo he wasn't any kind of doctor, at least not yet.
With a dreadful squelch,  the bullet came free. Kuroo, still only in his boxers, bent to the side, dry heaving.
Yamaguchi spit out the cloth.
"B-bandage. And pressure."
Tsukishima attached a gauze square to the wound. Yamaguchi laid back, relief flooding his face. "I-I'm gonna rest."
The syllables blended into each other as he allowed his eyes to finally close.
Tsukishima and Kuroo looked at each other in shock.
They sat in the silence of the apartment, staring. Every few minutes, Tsukishima would take Yamaguchi's pulse. Normal. Good.
It was the same quiet, the one before the knocking on the door, before the horror, the shock, the blood. The quiet that felt as endless as death.
Within its steady beat were their three souls, three bloodied men sitting on the ground. Yamaguchi slept, Kuroo felt ill, and Tsukishima...
His past was laying next to him, resting gently on his knee. He could feel it pull on him, pressing its fingers against him, plucking at old memories. Memories that had faded in time were now being born into a new flesh.

Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi sleeping here, now. On the carpet of a garage apartment within this odd suburb.
Yamaguchi, who was still breathing.
Who was real.
Who was here.
Who was alive.