Author’s notes: Hmm....what to write, what to write. I’m running out of things to say in my intros. *sighs* Okay, I guess this fic is kinda a sad one, and it has a lot to do with T.K.’s thoughts and feelings. As usual, I don’t own digimon or their characters so don’t sue me. I don’t have anything! It would be a waste of your time. Sorry that I don’t have anything witty to say to you today, but I’m not really feeling very good today. I’m kinda depressed and really bored. *eyes Yama-plushie on desk. grabs it and squeezes it really hard* that’s better. Well, enjoy this boring, depressing, not very well written fic. I’m going to bed.

P.S. This story takes place as if the digiworld never happened. I tried for hours (okay, maybe not that long) to figure out how the time line could work with the Digiworld incident included, but it doesn’t. Matt would either be too old, or their parents wouldn’t yet be divorced. So, this is like a "what if" kinda story. Okay, you can keep reading now. I’ll shut up. I can see you don’t need me. *sniffles* No one needs me, so I’ll just leave you alone. I’ll just go. By myself......*voice fades out*

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Arigato, Oniichan

What so you see when you look at him lying there? A monster? A helpless child? A teen in trouble? My name is Takeru Takaishi. I’m his brother. To others, I’m just a poor child who doesn’t know how to handle situations like this. They’re right, I don’t. But I will continue to stand strong for my brother, the brother who, in a sense, gave his life for me. It’s hard for me to relive the experience that has haunted my dreams for the past year, but still I continue to look into his passive face and remember....

***

I first started to get that sickening feeling in my stomach when I visited Matt the weekend before the incident. I just sort of dropped by unannounced. I wanted to surprise him, I guess. But I was the one who turned out to be surprised. As I reached up to knock on the door of Dad’s apartment, I remember hearing voices on the other side. Loud, angry voices.

"You are worthless! Do you hear me?! Worthless! You’ll never amount to anything without me!" they screamed. I’m not sure if that’s exactly what was said, but that’s what I heard. Anyway, I quickly tapped in the door, hoping that whatever I’d heard was coming from somewhere else. There was a long, silent pause before the doorknob turned and the door was timidly opened a crack. I could see Matt’s beautiful blue eye peer through the space between the wall and doorjamb looking, if anything, tearful.

"Hello?" he asked cautiously before his eye widened in surprise. "T.K.!? What are you doing here?" he hissed, pushing the door tighter so that the space we were looking through was even smaller.

"I came to see how you were doing," I answered, a little put off by the noticeable tone of fear in his voice.

"Who is it, Yamato?" a loud voice roared before Matt was quite literally yanked back and the door was flung open.

I felt myself cringe as I stared up at the man who was my father. I couldn’t help it, he was so tall and well built he might as well have been a monster in my eyes. I swallowed hard and waved, expecting him to growl back. Instead, a huge smile lit his squarish face when he saw me.

"Takeru! How’s it going, son?" he boomed, beckoning me inside. "We were just sitting down to have lunch. Why don’t you join us?"

I smiled back thinking that maybe nothing had happened after all. Then I saw Matt’s face. The entire left side was bruised, his eye completely swollen shut, his bottom lip split and bleeding. He gazed at me with shame, as if he was sorry I had to see him like this.

"Matt...what happened?" I asked, totally shocked at his condition.

My father glared down at his eldest son as if daring him to speak. "He got into another fight at school today, He’s been suspended for two weeks and has to do community service for three more after that." He glared daggers at Matt who backed away, either from fear or shame, I couldn’t tell.

But just by looking at my brother I knew there was something that our father was hiding within the walls of their shabby apartment. Something bad was happening that neither one of them wanted me to know about. But I was to young then to notice the early symptoms of abuse. It wasn’t until the next weekend that I was fully confronted with the truth.

My mom and I were going to pick up Matt so he could stay the night with us. Of course, I was excited as usual. It wasn’t often that Matt got to stay at our place since Dad didn’t approve of it.

It was Matt who answered the door when we arrived, looking as strong and proud as he always did. The bruises on his face had faded and the cut on his lip was healed. "Hey, kiddo," he said softly, smiling down at me.

"Matt!" I squealed, hugging him around his tiny waist. I frowned as I could feel his ribs and spine through his skin and I briefly wondered if he was starving himself again. He had always been thin, but this time took the cake. He felt like a walking skeleton beneath my hands, though he didn’t really look like one. He did a great job of hiding his meager weight beneath his clothes, he’d done it once before so he had lots of practice. I sighed, it was things like that which worried me about him.

He gave my mom a frosty look as she hugged him before he took my tiny hand in his. "Come on, otooto. Let’s go get my stuff out of my room, K?" he said, leading me down the hall.

His room was small and bleak looking; the whole apartment was. From what I remember, his bed was nothing but a mattress on the floor with a couple of blankets thrown over top and his dresser was old with flaking paint and broken handles. He didn’t have many personal effects, just a picture of us on a table with some books and a comb. Seeing his poor lifestyle made me feel a bit guilty. Here he was, living in a dump with someone who was rarely there while I lived in a nice house on the other side of the river with lots of friends and stuff. I wondered if he ever got bored with just sitting around the house all day?

But I’m getting off topic. Anyway, as he grabbed his duffel bag I gently touched his arm. "Are you okay, Matt? What’s wrong?" I asked, concerned for his welfare.

He swallowed hard and nodded, pushing the door open. "Yeah. Let’s just get out of here before..." He stopped himself in mid sentence, looking embarrassed. "Let’s just go."

I wanted to pursue the matter further but I didn’t. I could tell something was seriously wrong, but I knew he would tell me in his own time. That was when we heard it. Our parents were fighting again, and it sounded serious this time.

"Do you think people can’t notice the marks on his face?" my mother cried. "Everyday someone calls me to ask about ‘Matt’s poor little eye’! You need help! You’re going to kill him one of these days unless you get help!"

Matt and I ran out into the kitchen in time to see my dad grab mom’s shoulder, squeezing it painfully tight. "I don’t need help from anybody!!" he screamed, kicking the door shut so no one could see what was about to happen. He shook mom really hard. "And I don’t need YOU telling me what to do!!" With that, he backhanded her so hard she fell to the ground with a terrific boom.

"Mommy!" I cried, running to her. It was a stupid move on my behalf. I could see Dad’s anger focusing on me.

"You little freak! What are you doing?!" he screamed, his face turning red with rage. Then he hit me. Right across the face. I can remember feeling the sting of his wedding ring cutting into my cheek. I remember hearing Matt grunt in pain, as if it had been he who was hit. He looked so frightened, as if his worst dreams were coming true right before his eyes. My vision began to grow dim, but I can still remember exactly what had happened after that. All to clearly.

I saw Matt suddenly jump between me and my father as if his frail body could shield me from his anger. "You leave him alone," he hissed, pushing me back into an open closet and closing the door. I peeked out through the bi-folds to see my father glare at Matt who remained steadfast in front of the closet doors.

"Get out of my way, Yamato," Dad growled, his fist poised. I could see the anger in his dark, sunken eyes as he glowered at my brother. "I said; get out of my way!!"

Matt refused to move. I could see his body trembling violently with fear, but still he remained strong. Stubborn, that’s what he was, and I love him for it.

My father’s eyes widened in surprise at first when Matt didn’t move, but then narrowed into hateful slits. "Move!!" he screamed, bringing his fist down at full force. It connected with Matt’s face, sending him sprawling, but Dad didn’t stop there. He pulled Matt up by the collar and hit him three more times before throwing him into an empty fish tank. The glass exploded when Matt’s wiry body hit it, sending glittering shards flying through the air. I could see Matt roll to get away, hissing in pain as remnants of glass buried themselves in his flesh. But our father had no mercy. He pulled Matt to his feet and threw him into the living room, away from my field of my vision.

"Matt!" I gasped, pushing against the closet door with all the strength I had left, finally swinging it open. I staggered out, trying to see past the haze of red that covered my left eye, fully intending to run into the living room after them. But before I could get very far a pair of strong hands grabbed me from behind and clapped over my mouth. It was my mother, trying to pull me out the door, but I fought her, not realizing who it was. Not caring. The only thought on my mind was of my brother. I had to save him. I dashed close enough into the living room to see them struggling. But all I could do was watch as my dad punched Matt’s face again and again, slamming him into walls and driving him into furniture all the while screaming; "You listen to me!! You will obey me when I tell you to do something!! Listen to me, damn you!"

I could tell Matt was beginning to weaken. His struggles were lessening and he was limp as Dad hauled him up by his shirt which was torn. That was when my mom finally picked me up and forcibly carried me out the door. It was enough to snap me back in to reality. "NO! Oniichan!" I screamed, trying to break free from my mother’s grip. But she held firm as she staggered out into the hall, shouting for help. As she lay me on the floor and ran to a telephone, I could still hear the sounds of my father beating Matt, even way out in the hallway. Every muffled thump, every cry of pain, sent a knife twisting through my heart until finally the agony and the fear became overwhelming, mercifully crashing me into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I could hear lots of voices all around me, some anxious, others full of pity. I opened my eyes to see a strange man staring down at me, a frown on his narrow face. "You’re going to be okay, kid," he was saying, "I just need to ask you a few questions."

I ignored him as I saw that I was still in the apartment building and that a bunch of policemen were leading my father away. That’s when the memories all came crashing down at once. The fighting, the screaming, the pain....Matt...

"Oniichan!?" I whimpered, gracefully worming out of the man’s grip and running back into the apartment room. I stopped in my tracks when I saw what was inside. My brother lay in a pool of his own blood, his broken body limply draped over what was left of the coffee table. His shirt was torn, as well as the skin beneath it and it didn’t look like he was breathing. A couple of paramedics pushed past me with a stretcher and rushed to his side, quickly but gently lifting him into it. As they strapped him down and checked his vital signs, I slowly walked over to his side, afraid of what I knew I would find. He looked awful. Both of his brilliant cobalt eyes were swollen shut by the huge, purple bruises all over his face. His nose leaked blood and a thick trail of it trickled out of the corner of his mouth, blending in with the blood that matted the hair on the nape of his neck. I grasped his hand which was ice cold. "Oniichan...please be all right..." I gasped. He took a tiny, shuddering breath as if to answer me and a tear squeezed out past his swollen eye lids to join the ones that already streaked his face.

"What’s this kid doing here?" one of the paramedics asked, putting a hand on my shoulder and gazing into my eyes. He gently touched the gash on my forehead and I winced as sudden pain shot through me.

"Who cares. We’ve got to get this one to the hospital. Just put him on the stretcher with his brother, he looks like he was hurt, too," the other replied and before I could grasp what was happening, a pair of strong arms lifted me up and set me on the stretcher beside Matt despite my protests that I could walk fine by myself, thank you.

"Now be careful not to touch him," the male paramedic warned me, "We don’t want to hurt him any more then he already is." With that, they wheeled the stretcher out of the room and into the elevator. On the way down, the two medics began to talk with one another.

"God, that kid’s a mess!" the female growled, "What possesses a parent to do this to their own child! Look at his face! He’s probably got a couple busted up ribs, too, from the sounds of it," she snarled, listening to the ragged, forced gasps of air Matt slowly sucked in. "How could someone do this to a helpless kid?" she repeated, looking very angry and haggard.

The man shook his head sadly. "I don’t know....I just don’t know," he sighed before the doors slid open with a pleasant ding and they rushed outside.

We burst out into the bright sunshine to a huge crowd of police, paramedics and curious bystanders. I could hear a buzz of voices flow through the group as they all saw Matt’s horrible condition. I couldn’t blame them. He looked so helpless and innocent as he lay beside me, wheezing in pain as he slept.

Suddenly someone picked me up, passing me to another person who, in turn, passed me to someone else. "Oniichan!!" I screamed, trying to wiggle free from the policeman who was holding me. "Oniichan...Matt..." The shock of that afternoon wearing off, tears finally began pouring down my face as I watched the paramedics put Matt into the ambulance and drive away. The policeman who was carrying me turned out to be really nice as he held me still so the doctors could put some kind of bandage on my head. They took me to a hospital, too, but a different one. They took me to a children’s hospital where I had to stay over night until my mom came and got me.

When she finally came the next day, I started to cry again. I couldn’t help it, I was so scared....I still am. I begged her to take me to see my brother so much that she finally caved in, even though she really didn’t want me to see him in his condition. At the hospital gift shop, I bought Matt a fluffy blue teddy bear that was almost as big as I was. I know it was kind of weird since Matt’s a boy, and boy’s don’t really go for that sort of stuff, but I wanted him to feel like I was always there for him. That’s really why I bought it, so it could be there with him when I wasn’t able to.

We were greeted by the beeping and hissing sounds of the life support machine Matt was hooked up to when we entered his room. I tried so hard not to cry when I saw his battered body, but I couldn’t seem to stop the tears from coming when I looked at his face. It was all bruised and swollen and there was a wide, bloodstained bandage covering the left side of it, obscuring the worst of the damage from view. A long, thick tube was sticking in the corner of his mouth, held there with thin strips of white surgical tape running just under the tube beneath his nose. His chest rose and fell with every puff of air the big machine by his head pushed into his weakened lungs, looking all to mechanical, all to stiff to even be considered real breathing. I couldn’t believe it. My once strong, beautiful oniichan was now broken and frail, so weak he couldn’t even breath by himself, much less tell me everything would be all right again.

My mom explained to me that he had several broken ribs, a punctured lung and a shattered wrist. He was suffering from minor malnutrition, which meant he wasn’t eating enough, and was weak from lack of food. Mom told me it was because Dad spent all the money an liquor, and rarely ever worried about getting anything for Matt to eat since he assumed my brother could fend for himself. She also told me that the numerous blows he had delivered to Matt’s head had beaten the youth into a coma, which was a deep sleep that some people never wake up from.

I could only nod as she tried to make me understand. Why did it have to be him? Why my brother? Why....?"

***

As you can guess, I still sit by his side almost every day waiting for him to open his eyes and smile at me. But he can’t. Not yet. One day he will, though. I know he will.

The bruises on his face have long since faded and he doesn’t need a machine to help him breathe anymore. Sometimes, it even seems like he’s trying to talk., though not very often. I guess he just doesn’t have much to say right now. The food the doctors give him through a tube that goes down his throat and into his stomach seems to be helping. He’s still really skinny, but the nurses tell me he has all the vitamins and minerals he needs again. That’s good. It means he’s going to wake up soon. It means he’s getting better.

I brush a strand of hair away from his eyes and his lashes flutter under my touch, though they never truly open. As I watch him, I can’t help but notice that all his physical wounds are gone, but can the same be said for the mental and emotional ones? Will he wake up in pain at the memory of what he went through, or oblivious to the dangers he once lived in? I’ll never know until he wakes up. And I know he will someday. I have no doubt of that.

Our father hurt us in so many ways, I don’t think I could ever forgive him for what he did to my brother. My tall, beautiful oniichan who would give his life for me. For whose life I would sacrifice my own to save, if only I had another chance.

What do you see when you look at him lying there? A monster? A helpless child? A teen in trouble? I don’t see any of those things. I look at him and see Yamato Ishida, my brother. The most precious thing I could ever have. Tall strong and proud. With golden hair and cobalt eyes, my loving protector. My oniichan. My treasure.

Arigato and sleep well, my brother. I’ll be here when you wake up again. I promise.

The End

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Sooo.....did you enjoy it? I kinda got he idea from someone elses fic, but I can’t remember their name, so if you recognize it as yours, please tell me so I can give you full credit. Thanks. *yawns* Well, it took me about 2 hours to finish typing this up, and I’m beat. So expect a few spelling and grammar mistakes here and there, I’m to tired to fix them right now. *slowly reads over story* Geez, I’m really hooked on this abuse ‘thang’ This is, what? The sixth one I’ve written where Matt’s abused by his father? I need a new line of work! N*E*way, ‘till next time, this is Tsuno Pikash saying over and out. Arigato for taking time out of your busy schedule to read an insignificant fic by a tired girl who has no life.

~Tsuno Pikash~

~*~Ishida Insanity~*~ ^_~