Work Text:
“Sasori... why is there a dead cat in our kitchen... on the table we sometimes eat off of?”
The redhead doesn’t answer, doesn’t look up from the bundles of herbs he’s making, and just responds, “Frankenstein.”
“‘Frankenstein.’ You mean to tell me that you were trying to reanimate a dead cat, with rudimentary electric shocks, in our apartment.”
“More or less, yes.”
“All right, a couple of questions. First, what made you think that this was a remotely good idea. Second, and I can’t believe I’m asking, but... did you actually think that it was going to work?”
“I didn’t think it was going to work, no. But I had to rule out the possibility. When you eliminate the impossible, you know.”
“Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the solution,” Tobirama finishes with a sigh. “I’m not saying that you can’t try to reanimate cats through electric shock, Sasori, but I would prefer if you not do that in our kitchen. Or in our apartment in general, for that matter.”
Tobirama turns back to the kitchen. He’s going to make them both a much-needed cup of tea, while at the same time trying to ignore the stench of formaldehyde and scorched fur. As he sets the kettle up, though, it’s hard to ignore the large, wheeled device sitting next to Sasori’s impromptu work area.
“What is this thing, anyway? The thing you’ve got the cat wired up to.”
“It’s a capacitor bank. The outlets in here don’t have a high enough power rating.”
The older man feels the pit of his stomach drop out.
“Don’t those have a tendency to explode if they’re not used properly?”
“I know what I’m doing, Tobirama.”
His confidence isn’t entirely restored by Sasori’s assertions. He’s fairly certain that the redhead would never willingly admit if he didn’t understand something- he’s not the type to ask for help.
No point in pressing the issue at the moment, though.
Before long, he’s back in the living room, with two steaming mugs of tea in hand. Sasori is still sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by leaves and flowers and twine.
“Next question, what’s all this?”
“Sage. Rosemary. Cinnamon. Lemon balm.”
“Ah. And this is some other ‘alternative method’ you’re putting through the process of elimination, I imagine.”
“Partially. If burning them doesn’t help stave off corruption in the cat, they’ll at least cover the smell of the formaldehyde.”
“I’m sure there are studies out there about what incense does and doesn’t do, you know.”
“Yes.”
“But you have to see for yourself.” Tobirama frowns. If Sasori were trying to conduct an experiment in an organized and rational fashion, okay, he could sort of understand that. But there’s very little instrumentation, in here and in the kitchen. This all seems very... impulsive.
“When was the last time you slept?”
Sasori shrugs, not making eye contact.
Ah. That explains it.
“Have you at least tried?”
Another shrug. Tobirama can see a tenseness to the other man’s posture. He does his best to sit down near Sasori, without intruding on his personal space or disturbing his work.
There’s no point in trying to talk reason when his roommate has decided to shut himself away emotionally. He knows this all too well. With quiet insistence, he pushes one of the mugs of tea across the floor.
“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”
“Not sure how that’s supposed to reassure me, considering you and I have no plans to die if we can help it.”
“Your point?”
An uncomfortable pause settles between them, and for a few minutes there is silence, save for the pattering of the rain against the window panes and the distant rumble of thunder.
Eventually, Tobirama tries again to start a conversation.
"A lot happened at the hospital today."
"Mhmm."
"Five patients coded. One of those coded three times. We managed to save all of them, though the worst one isn't going to be leaving the ICU for a long time."
No response.
"Myocardial infarction, in case you were wondering. It's a wonder we didn't lose him. Still no guarantee that he pulls through, but I'm optimistic."
"Okay."
No, Sasori, it's not okay.
"Have you at least been taking your med-"
CRACK-A-BOOM!
A blue-white flash momentarily blinds them both, and the whole room seems to shake slightly from the shock of a deafening peal of thunder. Just as the brightness fades, the whole room is plunged into total darkness. The soft background hum of the air conditioning whirs to a stop.There’s no light at all, not even from outside. The power must be out for the whole block, not just their building.
Shuffle. Shuffle. Thud. Splash.
“Shit.”
“Sasori, are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Hold on.”
Tobirama can hear Sasori making his way into the kitchen. There’s a thud, and muffled swearing. Drawers open, rummaging, rummaging, clunk. More muffled swearing.
“Where’s the emergency light?!”
“Same drawer as the batteries.”
“It isn’t in there!”
Another burst of lightning briefly illuminates the living room. Like the flash of a camera, it burns a momentary image into Tobirama’s vision. Sofa, television, coffee table- ah! He gropes about, making his way forward, scooting across the floor on his knees while feeling for the coffee table with his hands. Once he finds it, it’s not too much harder to find the small drawer on the one side. There’s not a lot in it, just some cardboard coasters, the auxiliary remote, and- bingo! Matches!
He strikes one, and by its dim light he’s able to light a couple of the candles sitting in the table’s center. At this point, Sasori returns from the kitchen. He sits down next to Tobirama, his tired features even more exaggerated in the dim, flickering light.
“I’m going to have to pay to get that power bank repaired,” he mutters, irritated, “The lightning strike almost certainly damaged it.”
“I’m just glad that it didn’t explode. No more power banks in the kitchen during thunderstorms, all right?”
“Fine.”
The wind shifts direction, throwing fat drops forcefully against the window. They sound as solid and as heavy as pebbles.
Tobirama stands up and retrieves a blanket draped over the back of the couch, carefully not to let it trail anywhere near the open flames. He drapes it around Sasori’s shoulders, before sitting back down.
“May I?”
Sasori pouts, but nods, and Tobirama slides in under the blanket, beside the other man.
“Think you can get a little sleep? I can get up and get you your medicine if you want.”
“I’m fine,” Sasori replies, his tone less of a grumble now. After a few minutes, he sets his head against Tobirama’s shoulder.
I guess I’m forgiven for being pushy, the doctor muses. Sasori is not a particularly tactile person most of the time, and especially not when he’s in the middle of a manic swing. For his least patient patient to be physically open like this so soon after an argument, even a mild one... it’s reassuring. He’s just beginning to hope that the redhead might drift off to sleep when the both of them are jolted by an eerie, muffled yowl. It’s drawn out and somewhat distorted, but pretty decidedly feline.
“Tobirama.”
“There’s no way. It’s not possible.”
“Tobirama, the lightning strike... it could have caused a surge. Maybe... maybe?”
“Absolutely not.” He’s FAIRLY certain that the cat is still well and truly dead, but it’s been a weird day.
He’s considering how he might pick up one of the candles to take into the kitchen when he hears the sound again. It seems to crackle slightly, eerie and unnatural. Sasori grips Tobirama’s arm, and while his expression is a forced mask of neutrality, his eyes tell the truth, even by the faint, flickering light of the candles.
“Even if you’ve successfully resurrected that cat, it’s not going to be in any condition to hurt you. Honestly, it probably won’t live long anyway, considering the state its body was in. Come to think of it, why were you trying to resurrect a body that was already embalmed? Formaldehyde is hardly friendly to the ecology of the living body.”
“I wanted to test this tonight and we didn’t have a fresh cat.”
Meooooooooooooooooow…
Sasori’s grip tightens, so much so that Tobirama almost winces. Instead, he tries to very gently pry the fingers loose.
“There has to be a logical explanation for all of this.”
There has to be. Sasori can’t have possibly managed to bring back the dead on a whim.
And yet.
“Maybe we should burn the sage?”
Sure. Why not. Might as well roll with it.
“Let me see if I can find a plate or a bowl around here. I’m not going in that kitchen.”
“There’s one on the couch, I think.”
Yep, there is.
If anyone has told Tobirama that he’d be coming off his twelve hour shift only to end up cowering under a blanket, snuggled next to his sleep-deprived roommate, hoping that a plate of burning sage would stave off a theoretical zombie cat, he would have called them crazy.
Turns out, life was the crazy one.
Sasori is shivering periodically. He’s not sure if that’s out of nerves, or just a result of the lack of sleep. He makes a mental note to keep better tabs on the other’s schedule, though he knows, somewhat bitterly, that he can only do so much, especially with his workload being what it is. For now, he just holds the blanket a little tighter around the both of them and thinks warm thoughts.
Okay, no, it is actually getting cold. Right, power’s out, that means the heater’s out too, and the little smoldering bundle of sage isn’t putting off nearly enough heat to compensate.
“Do you want some of my tea?”
Sasori nods, and Tobirama reaches for his cup, without entirely emerging from the wool cocoon. It’s clear as soon as Sasori starts to drink that he had no idea how thirsty he was- a sip turns into gulp after gulp after parched and greedy gulp. He stops short of emptying the cup, though, and hands the quarter-full cup back.
The periodic meowing continues, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any closer, so it starts to become less of an issue. Sasori is definitely still somewhat on edge, but he’s settling down. Eventually, they add some cinnamon to the incense pile, and even though it doesn’t physically heat the air any moreso than the sage, the heady fragrance creates an illusion of warmth.
“You know, I doubt that burning plants has any real mystical properties, but I wouldn’t be against burning incense from time to time. It’s quite pleasant, actually.”
“Lavender is supposed to be romantic, you know.”
“Hmm. I feel like you’d probably be immune to its effects, even if that’s true.”
Sasori chuckles softly. It’s a good sound, and one that Tobirama doesn’t hear very often.
“I think I’m going to brave the kitchen. There should still be some hot water in the kettle. Do you want any more tea?”
“Sure, why not.”
Being careful to not get too much hot wax on his fingertips, Tobirama drops one of the candles into his empty mug. As he makes his way across the room, guided by the muted light, he hears the yowl again. It’s not coming from the kitchen, but rather, the sound originated from somewhere on his left.
He swings around, trying to catch sight of the source, and he very nearly snuffs out the candle in the process. The petering flame hangs on, though, and its glow reveals…
Nothing.
He’s staring at the door of the apartment, and nothing more.
“I think it’s outside, whatever it is.”
“That’s not a normal cat. I’ve never, never heard a cat draw out its vocalizations like that.”
“Well, I don’t think our zombie could have gotten outside, do you?”
“... no. But that means that whatever it is might not be able to get in if we leave the door closed.”
“Are you saying you’re more afraid than you are curious?”
“No!”
“So why shouldn’t I see what’s out in the hall?”
Tobirama doesn’t give Sasori a chance to answer before he unlatches the lock and opens the door.
He’s met with a pair of beady, glowing red eyes, staring at him from across the hall.
His first impulse is to swear and slam the door shut again, but he restrains himself, holding his candle-cup out to get a better view. A shaggy figures comes into view, about a foot and a half high, with a long, thin, black something running from it to… a wall socket. Right. It’s that tacky motion-sensing cat decoration that his neighbors put out for Halloween.
“Meooooooooooooooow…”
It’s one of those versatile decorations where the electronics can run on either power from a wall socket or a rechargeable battery. No doubt the surge from the lightning strike messed up its electronics, and that’s why it sounds like it’s halfway between drowning and being throttled. Tobirama chuckles.
“You’re a very bad cat, Madara-kun.”
He turns away and goes back into the apartment, shutting the door softly.
“What was it?”
“Madara-kun. The lightning messed him up, I think.”
“So… no zombie cat.”
“No. Turns out you’ll have to stumble across the secret of eternal life in some other fashion. A pity, hmm?”
“Hmm.”
“Ah, I was going to get you more tea, wasn’t I?” He walks into the kitchen and, sure enough, the dead cat is still exactly where had been before. Ugh, and it still smells like burnt hair.
He’s only in the kitchen for a few minutes, but when he comes back into the living room, he finds Sasori passed out asleep.
At. Last.
This whole ordeal must have worn him out past his limit. There’s no way he’s going to try moving him, there’s too much risk of waking him up, so he just retrieves a pillow and an extra blanket from the bedroom. He tucks the pillow under Sasori’s head, and ever so carefully drapes the blanket over him, before lying down on the couch and trying to drift off to sleep himself.
Kitchen notwithstanding, the apartment smells very nice, and of course, Sasori is finally getting some rest. As ridiculous as this whole mishap was, maybe something of worth came out of it after all.