He wakes to agony, to too-loud noises and pulsing pain and the disorienting ripple of power-as-light across his closed eyes and—
He exhales. Tries not to whine—
(If he whines he makes noise and noise hurts so it will hurt and he just wants it all to stop—the noise and the pain and the light and everything—)
—drags his pillow over his head and even that hurts, jarring and rough and loud despite the way it muffles noises but not enough, never enough, and there’s a familiar-unfamiliar ripple of ice blue across the darkness—
(Degurechaff?)
—and unfamiliar crimson red—
(…Urahara…?)
—and slender, familiar hands settle on his back, sea blue power rippling like the tide but…
Alexis isn’t a healer. Neither of them are.
He breathes out. Chokes on the whine that wants to rise and there are voices, muffled but still painful and he wants them to stop, wants them to go away and then—
A hand, large and warm and calloused settles on the back of his neck. It’s unfamiliar but it’s not, crimson red cresting like blood, like pain and then—
Everything stops.
The pain disappears.
His body goes limp.
A hand grips his neck. Anchors him in place. Steadies him against the sudden rush of relief that steals his breath and makes him tremble—
Exhaustion makes his world go dark.
The next time he wakes, everything feels… strange. There’s a lingering echo of pain in his head but that’s it; no searing agony, no perception of powers as colors, no issue with his hearing…
He pushes himself upright on arms that feel like they should be jelly but aren’t, his muscles strong and sure and each movement easy in a way it hasn’t been for years.
(He doesn’t understand.)
(A headache like that and he should have been suffering for days.)
(How…?)
“Here, love,” Alexis says softly as she comes to stand beside the bed, holding out her hands to him.
Erich squints up at her blurry form, then glances back at her hands and accepts the glass of water. Several pills are set in his other hand and he downs them with a grimace, draining the glass in several quick gulps. He’s not so sure he needs the painkillers but… he’d rather not risk a relapse. Not when he’s not entirely certain if… if Urahara can repeat whatever it was he did.
“Thank you,” he murmurs as he hands the glass back to Alexis and reaches for his glasses, looking around as soon as he can see.
Urahara is seated by his desk, watching him with concern-care-relief, and Degurechaff is standing by his desk and… pointedly not looking at him.
(What?)
(Oh!)
He leans over to fumble an undershirt from his bag, tugging it on and pulling it straight so that he’s at least a bit decent. “Sorry, Colonel,” he says as he runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at how unkempt it feels. He hasn’t had a chance to trim it in weeks, so his undercut is growing out and his hair is becoming long enough to start curling.
(Much longer and it’s going to start tangling every night.)
(Ugh.)
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, sir,” Degurechaff says dryly as she turns to face him properly. “How are you feeling?”
Erich gives himself a moment to assess his body and once again comes up… surprisingly empty of complaints. “Better than I expected after how I first woke this morning,” he tells her, then slants a glance at Urahara and inclines his head. “Thank you.”
Urahara’s eyes widen, surprise-pleasure-loyalty slipping through their bond, and then he flashes that bright, cheerful mask of a smile and says, “Maa, don’t mention it! I had to do it a lot when a friend of mine was learning her clan’s special skill.
He eyes Urahara for a long moment, considering the man’s reaction, and then carefully tries, “No, it should be mentioned because I appreciate it. And… my reaction to discovering that you were a Shinigami aside, I do appreciate the healing you gave me. Wounds like that would have taken months to heal. Months I do not have. So… thank you, Urahara.”
“A-ah… well. I wasn’t about to leave you hurt like that?” Urahara tries, touches of color rising in his cheeks. He glances away, hands carefully still in his lap, and says, “It was the least I could do—”
“Urahara. Thank you,” Erich repeats, staring straight at the man and pressing gratitude-warmth-acceptance down their bond.
It makes Urahara twitch and duck his head, a tiny, true smile curling at the corners of his lips and color dusting his cheeks before he manages to gather himself and tamp the reaction down.
Erich exchanges a look with Alexis as she settles on the cot next to him, leaning over to murmur, “I was thanking him,” in her ear. The way she stills at his words is… promising.
(Are Reapers kind to anyone?)
(Somehow, it doesn’t feel like they are…)
“Uhm… did I do something wrong again?” Urahara asks cautiously as he looks between Erich and Alexis.
“No,” Erich reassures the man as best he can. He’s not about to say that Alexis is plotting or that she’s starting to become offended on the man’s behalf; Urahara probably won’t take either answer well, not when he likely sees no reason for her to be offended.
(Still… it’s best if they don’t become too attached.)
(It could be a trick.)
(But when do all the coincidences stop being coincidences and become evidence?)
Degurechaff clears her throat and arches an eyebrow at him, tapping her wrist in indication that they’re running out of time before they need to take up their duties once more.
Erich hums. Pulls his legs up onto the bed and tucks his bare feet beneath his knees. He’s under-dressed for this conversion — the only one here who is — but if he was so easily embarrassed he wouldn’t have made it to the rank of Brigadier General.
“We’ll need to make this conversation quick,” Erich tells Urahara calmly, ignoring the way his words make Urahara tense. He’s pretty certain that the man expects to be sent away again, but… that won’t help any of them at this point. “So with that in mind, we’ll keep to a basic agreement and work to refine it later.”
Urahara’s gaze sharpens at Erich’s words, surprise-consideration-curiosity slipping through their bond. “Basic agreement?”
“Yes.” Erich considers his words carefully, then gives Degurechaff a questioning look when he finds his vocabulary a bit lacking. When she nods and moves to stand closer to him, hands clasped behind her back and clearly waiting to translate, he takes a breath and starts, “We all need to get to know each other if the three of us are going to make this work, but I cannot leave my position or neglect my men. With that in mind, I propose that you remain here and accompany me throughout the day, getting to know both myself and Alexis while accustoming yourself to the situation we’re in. While I cannot yet offer for you to sleep in here near us, I’m certain we have a tent that can be set up for you, and we’ll have more time in the evenings to talk as well.”
Degurechaff’s breath hisses through her teeth and the look she shoots him is entirely exasperated. “Sir, while the soulmate laws do permit this, we are in the middle of a war.” And you are giving him easy access to our intelligence and plans, she doesn’t say but Erich can easily hear.
“A war that he doesn’t care about,” Erich reminds her. “So long as it has nothing to do with spirits or spiritual power, Reapers have shown no interest in what the living do.”
“As you say, sir,” Degurechaff says, carefully polite and clearly doubting his reasoning. Still, she turns to Urahara without further protest and translates his offer.
Alexis leans into his side, twining their fingers together once again. “You’re going to give your second a heart attack one of these days,” she murmurs in his ear, voice laden with amusement. “You never told me how protective of you she is. I’m glad you have such a good friend at your side.”
Erich starts at Alexis’ words and shoots her a wide-eyed stare. Degurechaff and him, friends? The mere idea is preposterous; Degurechaff doesn’t have friends — she has people she respects and people she tolerates — and he’s pretty sure she tolerates his existence, especially given recent events.
Her eyebrows slowly creep up as they stare at each other, surprise-amusement-fondness slipping into her presence the longer he remains silent.
(Is she so certain that he and Degurechaff are friends?)
(Why?)
“I accept,” Urahara says, dragging Erich’s attention away from Alexis. The man watches them, curiosity gleaming in his eyes, but all he says is, “Thank you for this chance, Rerugen-san.”
“Just don’t waste it,” Degurechaff snaps at Urahara before Erich can say anything, then turns to him and says, “I’ll inform the men of this decision, sir, and about our new… friend’s lack of Imperial.”
“Thank you, Colonel. I’ll make sure he understands the expectations this puts upon him,” Erich says with a nod, trying not to over-analyze Degurechaff’s words or tone; he supposes their easy camaraderie could be mistaken for friendship without much issue, and that’s certainly not something he wants to disturb. Not out here, where life and death hinges on how well he and Degurechaff trust each other and work together.
Degurechaff nods and turns on her heel, marching out of their tent with barely a warning look at Urahara as she passes.
(Maybe there’s hope for peaceable relations yet.)
Erich pauses a moment to consider that thought, then lets it go.
(He doubts it.)
“Expectations?” Alexis asks as she bends over to drag his duffel closer, digging through it to pass him a shirt and jacket.
“You’re both soulmates to the commanding officer,” Erich points out as he pulls his shirt on and knocks his glasses askew in the process. He grimaces and pulls them off, buffing them clean on a corner of his undershirt, then resettles them in place. “By soulmate laws—”
“By the letter, maybe,” Alexis counters with an arched eyebrow. “But if even one of your men tries to defer to me while you’re away or out of commission, just because I’m technically your equal, I’m going to seriously question their training.”
Erich gives her a tight, wry smile at her words. “I would as well, but given our situation, I can’t just ignore the possibility that one of you might be the only potential authority available and that some will always prefer to follow rather than lead.”
She grimaces at that, but concedes the point with a small incline of her head. “That’s… going to get messy.”
“I know.”
“Ah… is there something I should be aware of…?” Urahara asks awkwardly, fidgeting with his striped hat as he looks between them. “Or would you… like me to leave…?”
“There are… complications,” Erich answers as he pulls his jacket on and then stands up to tuck his shirt in place. “How much do you know about soulmate laws?”
Urahara shakes his head and stands as well, sliding the camp chair under Erich’s desk as he does. “Very little. Degurechaff-san mentioned them last night, but she didn’t mention many specifics.”
Erich frowns down at his chest as he quickly buttons his jacket closed, trying to muster the language he needed to explain things. “We’ll have to go over them later. Of note is that soulmates are considered a… single unit in the eyes of the law.”
It doesn’t take long for understanding to spark in Urahara’s gaze, followed by a sharp-edged consideration that puts Erich on edge. “We’re of equal rank by your laws,” he ventures, pale eyes fixed on Erich. When Erich nods, Urahara’s gaze hardens and unease-determination-loyalty echoes through their bond. “Which means in a worst case scenario, I might become responsible for your men.”
“It’s unlikely, but yes,” Erich concedes, knowing that he can’t simply brush aside the potential for things to go belly up at a moment’s notice.
Urahara huffs and settles his hat in place, posture slipping into a slouch as he flashes Erich another cheerful-mask of a smile. “Well, I guess I better master your language quickly, then!”
“Erich?” Alexis asks as she follows him towards the entrance of the tent.
“I get the feeling he’s not looking forward to possibly being in a leadership position again,” Erich murmurs as they walk, glancing at Urahara out of the corner of his eye as the man trails after them. “Not that I can blame him.”
Alexis hums in agreement, likely thinking about what they learned from him the night before. Given the way the man’s last command had ended, well…
He’ll simply have to make sure it never comes down to that.
(Easier said than done, but…)
(He’s not about to force command on someone who doesn’t want it, no matter how determined they are.)
(And especially not his soulmate, who is only involved because of a technicality.)
(That’s not the way to build a rapport and he knows it.)
(Now if only the war would cooperate…)
(If only…)