A/N: I know it has been awhile, forgive me! Enjoy

Disclaimer: Not mine!

I want to reach out to them, but I simply can't. I see them hurting but I can not ease their pain. I simply don't care anymore. The sharp pain in my thighs every time I move is a harsh reminder of my condition that I can't possibly be of any value to anyone anymore. I can't protect them, I cant stand up to hug them like I want to, I cant even let Chris sit in my lap like he is so fond of doing. I'm worthless. I long to wipe the tears from my little brother's eyes every time he sees me, I desperately wish I could respond to the Count's seemingly futile attempts to stir my emotions, but I am trapped within myself. My injuries and my pride holding me prisoner, and I have no way to escape.

Everyday from the time I wake up to the time I doze off to sleep, it's the same routine. I wake up in my wheelchair, I eat in my wheelchair, and I sleep in my wheelchair, I fucking live in my wheelchair. I view the world as half a man. If I stare straight ahead, my eyes are parallel with D's waist, where they once could gaze three inches over his head. Will I ever be able to stand tall and proud ever again?

I guess what hurts the most, even more than my slow healing body, is the fact that I am hurting the ones I love the most. The only people in the world who truly care about me, I hurt every single time I remain silent. I can feel Chris tugging at my mind, begging me to speak, to move, to do anything, but I can't. Even that damn goat looks at me gloomily now. But the worst, is Count D. His façade, it's so fucking fake that a complete stranger could notice it, more or less me. He goes on as if nothing has happened, as if everything in his world is as right as rain, as though I am still stopping by here and there bearing chocolates and gruff words. Never mind that I haven't spoken since I was brought home, two weeks ago. Forget the fact that I haven't moved my wheelchair away from the window overlooking the busy Chinatown streets, other than to go to the bathroom. In his mind, everything is how it should be. How I desperately wish that was reality.

"My dear Detective, can I get you anything? You haven't eaten at all today. Surely that is not healthy." I watch silently as D's lithe form crosses into my line of sight, his usual smile fixed on naturally red lips. I can only stare at him, my brain unable to formulate a response to his oh so polite question. "Leon are you okay? Do you need more pain medication?"

It is hearing my name that snaps me out of my reverie, D rarely uses it anymore. The honorific "Detective" hurts even more, because before the accident, right after a huge fight had led him to confess that I meant more to him than simple entertainment, he had stopped using it completely.

"So I'm so kind of fucking toy huh? Never mind the television, let's watch Detective Leon Alexander Orcot bumble around like some fool, quality entertainment there D!"

"No!—Detective it's not like that at all!"

"If it's not like that, then why all the riddles, the mysteries, the fucking games? Is playing with me some kind of game to you? Well I've had it; you can find your fucking entertainment somewhere else."

"Detective wait!"

"Call me when you actually give a damn if I live or die tomorrow."

"Leon I do care! I know I'm not the most open creature but believe me when I say, I do care about you. Please don't go my dear Leon, I need you."

"Say it again." The words escape my mouth in a gruff whisper before I can stop myself, the neediness that underlines my weak voice surprises even me. D's mismatched eyes widen in surprise as his practiced smile drops from his face.

"Say what again?"

"My name." I can feel the tears stinging the back of my eyes as I look down in my lap, embarrassed to be so weak, mentally and physically, in front of my strange friend. I look up when I feel him lightly sit on the arm of my wheelchair, slender arms wrapped securely around my slumped shoulder.

"Leon, my dear Leon." D's soft lips meet mine briefly as the tears start to run from my eyes. I lean into the Count's warm embrace, and cried out my frustration, my exhaustion, my fear and my pain as I was comforted by someone a little less than a god, but a little more than human.

Sorry it's so short, just felt like I should put something up. Will update regularly now, hopefully. Thanks for all the reviews! The more I get, the faster I work! (Bribery ha ha).