[Jan 25] [Kamen Rider OOO] Altruism

[swollenfoot.livejournal.com]

Title: Altruism
Day / Theme: Jan 25 / emotions like too-pale flowers
Series: Kamen Rider OOO
Characters/Pairing: Gotou, Date (yes, it's shippy. Shush.)
Rating: G
Warnings: mild violence, spoilers, takes place almost immediately before ep 37 & 38 I guess, spotty characterization

If there's one advice Date Akira could give every patient he'd ever encounter, every person, it would be to keep things in moderation. Gotou-chan had desire in spades, that's for sure, but for the most part he had been able to channel his desire for the greater good into reasonable steps. It wasn't a bad thing either that the man had the professionalism of the entire Japan Medical Association and then some, so when he wasn't conflicted about what he wanted and what he had, Gotou was grace under pressure, 100% engaged. All in all, Date was satisfied with the growth of the younger man he had taken under his wing.

But then there was altruism.

Date narrowed down the issue to that. Altruism. The difference between Gotou-chan and Hino Eiji was that Gotou had the structure, and to some extent the protection, of his Type A personality. No armor was infallible, however, and when Gotou's failed, his tom-fool heroics could match shame for shame any of Eiji's.

Eiji has his own issues. Date and Gotou were on their own in this fight, in an isolated factory complex north of the city, and things weren't looking good. Five minutes. Five minutes without the lightning pain, the vertigo, the hollowing of his head. Five minutes, so he could get up and drag them out of there, and he promised to redress the issue with Gotou-chan.

"Date-san!" Gotou said, after releasing another volley of shots. "We need to fall back. There's too many of them, and they're getting stronger by the minute."

YOU need to fallback, Date wanted to say, but couldn't. If he opened his mouth, he would puke the stomach acid roiling to the base of his throat. Five minutes. But the Yummies still came, and wherever their parent was sating its Desire, they came stronger and bolder.

"Look out!" Gotou yelled, pivoting to catch the lunging Yummy. It caught the Birth Buster by its rotting fingers and, after they were shaved off by the shots, shoved the stump of its arm into the muzzle, undeterred by the kicks Gotou was giving it.

Date managed to get to up to his knees and push himself up to a standing position. Before he could stagger to his partner, another body slammed into him, shakng an already shaken brain like a mixed drink from hell, and then whacking it on the pavement for good measure.

He had no five minutes.

He wasn't a doctor, Gotou-chan, but he should know better than this. Live to fight another day. Live to help more people. You are useless when dead. Date was confident--he would not die. He could not die. He could not promise the same for Gotou. Gotou needed to take on this responsibility himself.

"Fall back!" Date was finally able to roar, but his voice was drowned out by Gotou's own cry as he wrenched the blaster from the Yummy and obliterated a path for their escape. They clutched at each other, the two of them. Date wasn't sure who picked up who, but Date couldn't have gotten far by himself. Gotou had to have carried him, his barrel of coins, and dragged him somewhere he could have his five minutes.

When Gotou released him, the belt, Date trusted they were momentarily safe and let go. Curled up, he breathed, eyes tightly shut, riding the constant spinning darkness, the whoosh of blood about his ears, the ripping pain that threatened to split his cranium like watermelon.

Five minutes.

Date opened his eyes to look at Gotou. He didn't have to see the younger man's face to know his state. Gotou-chan was crumpled in a pile that screamed of pain. Date pushed himself up once more, now that he was functional enough to deal with the slight dizziness and the pain has evened out to a dull ache. Beside Gotou was the cask of cell medals. Inside it, Date's trusty gorilla continued to clamor, setting a tone of urgency Date didn't really need reminders of. With easy practice, the sound was relegated to the background.

His patient was pale, glistening with cool sweat, and taking shallow breaths interspersed with noises that could only be called whimpering. Tangled with the Birth Blaster was Gotou's right arm, dangling useless. The obvious deformity was on the right shoulder area.

"Gotou-chan, you need to go to the hospital."

Gotou's head rolled to one side, then he shook it no.

"You big idiot!" Date said, and left it at that. There would be time enough later... He looked around. Gotou had brought him to what appeared to be a machine room in some factory. There were massive bolts, nuts, conveyor belts, no doubt the guts of some automaton. A piece of wood would do. A rag, something.

"I can shoot with my left," Gotou said. "I practice."

Date glared at him anyway. "I will set your shoulder if I can. It will hurt more than it does right now. I need your muscles to be as relaxed as possible. Now, relax, Gotou-chan."

That was a tall order but Gotou nodded.

Date divested Gotou of his grey jacket and button down, enough so he could examine his shoulder and arm. His hand stopped at the younger man's collarbone. It stuck out, the etching of a master artisan's deft hands, even through the rigidity that held the man in one piece. Gotou-chan was delicate in surprising ways like this.

And he was not, Date reminded himself, not in a myriad of other ways.

"It doesn't look like there's any fractures," Date said.

Date slipped the jacket off his patient completely, careful not disturb Gotou's arm but moving with economy. Gotou was quiet now, breathing a little bit deeper, slower. Good.

"Sorry," Gotou muttered, while Date fashioned a sling out of the jacket. "I lost my head."

Date didn't find anything else usable, except for a plastic chair. He broke a leg off and tried to tear bits of the rubber from the worn conveyer belt to strips. When that failed, he removed his shirt and tore it to strips.

"Can't be helped," Date finally said.

He supposed he wasn't exactly a model of prudence himself and had no right to judge Gotou-chan. And the guy looked miserable. Date couldn't find it in him to tell him off, not right now anyway.

"Date-san," Gotou said. "It's getting more frequent, isn't it?"

"Didn't you just apologize?"

"This and that are different things."

"Let's call it even for now and let me do my work."

Gotou clenched his jaw and stayed silent. It's true, maybe, that Date should have waited longer in between fights, but that wasn't an option. Besides, there wasn't any rhyme or reason to his symptoms' onset. He couldn't just be crippled by a possibility when there was money that needed earning.

"Now, imagine a happy place--"

"Just do it, Date-san."

It wasn't as dramatic as the yank and scream routine in the movies. Date manipulated Gotou's arm, grasping the boy by the forearm and holding him in place by the other. The boy kept still, though he did impossibly become stonier. The joint would just click back in place.

"Don't fight me," Date said, and almost dropped his heart in the same breath. Gotou had complied in his usual brutal efficiency, and had released some switch so quickly Date thought the boy had passed out. Date changed tact and pulled once, steady, strong. Then Gotou cried out and it was done. In spite of himself, Date released the breath he was holding and began applying the makeshift splint and sling. The gorilla went silent then, and the air began to fill with things Date was sure they had both been itching to raise but were not quite sure how to start.

"They're getting more frequent, Date-san," Gotou said, implacable creature. His voice was hoarse, but the steel in it rang. "Shouldn't a doctor know better?"

"I do know," Date said, unruffled by the accusation. "It's a matter of you trusting that I do."

"Didn't you say you needed to protect yourself first and foremost?

That's not what it looked like earlier. I made you an opening---why didn't you take it?"

"I don't see how splicing myself woud count as looking after number 1."

Gotou opened his mouth to respond but then closed it, unsure of how to respond to that. Crap. Date wasn't sure what exactly he meant by it himself, but there it was all out in the open.

"Basic biology," Date continued. "Chicken has to make sure the egg survives otherwise all the energy the chicken used on the egg would be useless."

"But if you expect me to leave you there, I don't see how that's any different."

"Chicken." Date pointed to himself. "Egg." He pointed to Gotou. "Get my drift? Take care of your number 1."

"Again, I don't see how my splicing myself is any different."

Date stared at him. His number 1..? Gotou stared back at him, unflinching, jaws set, before his eyes softened and faltered to the conflicted expression that Date hasn't seen in him in a while.

"I'll be more careful, but it goes both ways. Besides, the egg isn't ready to leave the nest yet."

"There's a point when a chick needs to survive by itself."

"Date-san."

"But it's not today," Date conceded. He laid a hand on Gotou's head. He wasn't sure if he meant it as an apology, but it broke Gotou's stare. "We have to get moving."

"You can't fight in your condition."

"I know," Date said wryly. "Broke a wing." He pulled Gotou up with the other man's working arm. "We're going to the hospital."

"I'm—“

"I want a three-view on that shoulder, make sure there's no chipped bone or something. Doctor's orders."

Maybe it wasn't exactly altruism at work here, but there it was. Theirs was a much more willing partnership than that of Eiji and Ankh's, but sometimes Date's and Gotou's agenda (definitely their methods) don't perfectly gel together. There was time enough to sort things out, Date hoped. Gotou wouldn't stand for it if Date started to sling around things like forever and oneness and... complicated things that tended to stick people in scenarios guaranteed to make them bawl like babies one day... Date supposed he'd have to accept it. For now, they were a single unit. His altruism dictated Date Akira was number 1. Shintaro Gotou was part of that combi, and Date simply had to respect the corollary, for as long as he's able.

(Happy Birthday, fiisha. Subarashi!)

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