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Six’s dark hair fans out, stark against the white pillow.  It curls around a streak of dried blood at his temple that the Diamonds must have missed when they’d had to clean the rest of it off. In the darkness of the Deck’s hospital, the silence is only interrupted by the steady beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor. Ace had dimmed the lights when she’d left in order to allow for the twins to get some rest.  Kyntak groans, stretching out the stiffness in his back and neck from sitting so long, and leans over to wipe the smear  off Six’s face. Glancing at his watch, he sighs and rubs tiredly at his eyes.

It’s been a pretty shit day all around.

Which is why he sits here, in clothes that aren’t his but fit him perfectly, a dark trench coat around his shoulders to fend off the medical chill that affects most hospitals. He would be wearing his own, but Kyntak only keeps one extra pair in his office, and those had been destroyed by the end of the mission. King had made a point to inform him that Six wouldn’t mind his own being borrowed, as long as Kyntak showered first. He hopes, absently, that King is sleeping, if only in his office, because God knows he isn’t leaving the building with Six like this. Kyntak knows, however, that he’s most likely doing paperwork, assigning tomorrows missions, or something similar to keep his mind off of his adopted son.

Rubbing the arm he’d used to give blood earlier, Kyntak feels the small bandage start to peel. He still has bruises from the needles the Diamonds had used rather apologetically, since they didn’t have the pint of reserve blood each agent gave for their own use, specifically for times like these. Six had apparently refused to allow his to be drawn, however, and usually ended up getting an emergency donation when injured.

Which of course always made him sick.

 Kyntak had only needed to receive blood once in his life, and had felt ill within the hour—fever, vomiting, the works. He had been unsure whether it was because his blood was different enough from a normal human’s to trigger a reaction, or if he’d simply been allergic to something in that particular person’s blood. The starting symptoms of each scenario were similar, and the doctors stopped the transfusion at the first sign of something wrong, so none of the more telling symptoms had had time to appear. The Diamonds obvious surprise at Six being able to receive blood without side effects –even from an identical twin--suggested the former, though.

 Kyntak could see the reasoning behind why Six hadn’t originally given his blood to the Deck—kind of hard to pass as human when your blood’s visibly different from just a glance through a microscope, let alone the testing it would have to undergo to be put back into your body—but Ace could clearly be trusted with this. Hell, just off the top of his head he could think of three times she’d had to tailor her treatments for a superhuman, and no other Diamonds showed a hint of noticing. Not to mention a blood sample could help with said tailoring, and Kyntak himself had already given reserve blood and there was just no fucking reason he should have to be called from the waiting room because the doctors had nothing to treat Six with! And if something as serious as today happened again—and it would-- and Kyntak couldn’t be here in time, well, there are reasons that there are times Kyntak honestly can’t believe Six has survived this long.

Putting his elbows on his knees, Kyntak props his chin on his palms just in time to see Six’s eyelashes flutter. Six gives a small, pained groan, but his eyes don’t open. Just in case, Kyntak mutters absently, ”You’re fine, Six.”

Surprisingly, Six’s eyes open all the way, unfocused before settling on Kyntak, where his gaze turns startlingly sharp. He moves as if he means to speak, but no sound comes out. When he twitches, Kyntak puts a gentle hand in his chest to keep him still. He can guess what Six’s question is. “The kids are fine, too. Worst off is on crutches for a few weeks.” Six relaxes, finally, probably more from exhaustion then because he truly understands the words coming out of Kyntak’s mouth. ”You, on the other hand, have three cracked ribs, which I’m one hundred percent sure you knew going in, and stiches from the shrapnel approximately everywhere. Lucky for you, most were surface wounds, so they’ll heal up fine. Probably won’t even scar, even if we were completely human.” Kyntak settles back into his chair and glances at his hands, twisting them together. “The biggest worry right now is your head. You have a damn think skull, though, so I expect you to pull through.” Six’s lips twitch, barely. His eyes close.

Kyntak leans forward and places his hand on Six’s forearm, carefully avoiding the IV. He wants to be pleased that Six doesn’t flinch away from him, but Six is barely awake, if at all, so Kyntak tries not to read too much into it. The Diamonds had said he wasn’t going to remember much if he woke up, and Kyntak doesn’t really count what Six just did as waking up, which is the only reason Kyntak says, low and serious, “Don’t you dare scare me like that again, Agent Six of Hearts.  When someone says it isn’t safe to go into a warehouse because the bomb inside has, oh, seconds before it detonates, the proper response is to not go into the fucking warehouse. You don’t insist on going in, you don’t fail to disarm the bomb, and you sure as hell don’t wait long enough to do so that you have to drag yourself and five kids out of the wreckage hours later when we’d almost given you up for dead. Damn it, Six—“ His voice breaks, and Kyntak stutters out a deep breath, “Do you know how messed up King was? How worried he was? If we hadn’t seen you that second, you would have died—you almost did die on the way here.” Kyntak sighs and rubs angrily at his forehead.

“And I can’t tell you not to take risks, or to never put your life on the line, because that’s our job, but—“ he growls, frustrated,  “But fuck, it’s not fair that I find a brother out of the blue, get to liking his whining, arrogant, stubborn ass and then he die a month later!”

 Kyntak throws his hands into the air, moving them violently, a little out of breath from hissing out his little rant.

He had been four when he left the orphanage, and couldn’t remember most his time there beyond brief flashes of emotion, and it was every man for himself on the streets. Working for ChaoSonic had only ever been a job, and an undercover one at that. The sense of camaraderie and home in the barraks had a habit of spoiling when you know your so called comrades would put a bullet in your head if they ever found out what you were. The Deck was the first place Kyntak has been able to truly relax, as much as a genetic experiment working for an illegal vigilante organization in the City could, and Six was the first person to inspire the same feeling. Seeing him hurt in the Lab had been bad, but they hadn’t truly known each other, and Kyntak had gotten him to safety fairly quickly.

 Hearing the heart monitor flatline on the way here, when the electrodes had slipped, that, that had been….

Kyntak had almost crashed the damn car.

With a sigh, he places one hand back on Six’s arm and uses the other one to hold up his head again. “It wouldn’t be fair, you idiot.

The idiot in question doesn’t twitch, presumably fully asleep once again. Kyntak groans, and stretches into a standing position. If he’s going to be up for much longer, he’s going to need some coffee.