Work Text:
bane | noun { 1. a cause of great distress or annoyance. 2. something, especially poison, which can cause death.
This was supposed to be an easy mission.
A simple, easy, piece of cake mission – like any diplomatic mission is these days.
As the enemies surround them (not slightly concerned with stealth at all), Sasuke decides, with amusement glinting in his eyes, that nothing is really simple or easy when it comes to Team Seven – even though they are only two this time.
His hand unsheathes his kusanagi with a swift motion, and though it could help them, Sasuke doesn't bother to activate his Sharingan. He hears rather than sees the confidence his teammate has on them when Sakura turns her back to him and tugs at her combat gloves, the leather stretching around her fingers.
Despite the years apart, they both work surprisingly well together. The nearly impeccable teamwork flows like a river does towards the sea; merciless and inevitable.
There's only a moment of hesitancy where hundreds of sharp senbons rain towards him, and although he can probably move in time, Sakura uses her momentum after a kick to push him to the opposite direction.
After that, punches to the ground are synced with swipes of his sword. Right hooks with roundhouse kicks. And when it ends, hardly five minutes later, they are both panting, sharing complacent smiles.
Sasuke feels a warming feeling swirling inside him, a mix of post-battle excitement, the remnants of the adrenaline in his veins, and something else he can't really name. The light buzz accompanies him as he ties all the nukenins and sends a hawk to the Kazekage; they are still in Suna's territory after all.
The warmth dissipates, draining him instantly, when he sees Sakura swaying from foot to foot, a grimace twisting her dainty features.
"What's going on?"
She replies but whatever the answer is, it comes out as an intelligible slur. She tries again and the effort is futile. Her hands flicker green for a second, but the chakra flow cuts off, and that alarms Sasuke.
He might be wrong (and he hopes he is), but Sasuke thinks he knows what's happening to her. He has seen this reaction before – a few times in the Snake's lab, and once on the road – and every time, it was associated with the exposure of poisonous substances. It starts mostly with the inebriated state Sakura is in.
Quickly, Sasuke steps in her personal space and scans her face, neck, her bare arms, turning her around and moving her limbs like she's a ragdoll. He's looking for the point of contact, where most of the substance should still be. He doesn't find anything other than debris though, consequence of her powerful punches.
He exhales slowly, trying to concentrate on their next steps. If Sakura is indeed poisoned, he needs to act quickly. Konoha is about two days away by foot. He doesn't have enough chakra for a teleport. Naruto is Kami-knows-where. And they are still in the middle of the freaking desert.
As he runs the possibilities through his mind, Sasuke glances down, still holding her arm, and sees the moment where she struggles to move her red dress. Unconsciously, he extends his hand to help her, bunching up one side of the dress above her waist. He holds the fabric there, trying to avoid her eyes as she mumbles something close to a thank you.
There's an angry scratch above her hip, not larger than five inches, which is quickly swelling. Sakura tries to close the broken skin with her chakra, but it's useless; it flickers a few times feebly and then fades.
Whatever poison coated the weapon responsible for this wound, Sasuke thinks, it reacts slowly, with the intention to catch the opponent off guard, no doubt. It's eating her chakra cells, blocking its paths one by one.
He confirms that as he checks her with his Sharingan; her reserves are nearly empty, and he can distinctively see a few spots whirling inside of Sakura's chakra system. Sasuke tells her that, but the medic-nin is clearly struggling to process the information.
His time with Orochimaru taught him a lot about poisons – and he's even immune to a few thanks to that – but this one doesn't match the ones he personally knows. If it's anything like the one Sakura herself found the cure for all those years ago here in Suna, there's nothing much he can do; his limited knowledge in medical ninjutsu warrants that.
With the night approaching, and the risk of sandstorms, Sasuke decides to find shelter and wait in a safe place where he can replenish enough chakra to take them back home – by summon or whichever option he can use first.
He only has time to secure her arm around his neck when Sakura slumps against him. Cautiously, he guides them through the endless dunes until he sees the entrance of a small cave they spotted earlier that day.
Her smaller body is tucked in his arms by the time they get inside, her skin cold to the touch. Sasuke shrugs off his travel cloak and lays Sakura on top of it. He works quickly after that, making a fire to keep them warm, and returning to her side.
Disoriented, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, Sakura mumbles words every now and then. She whines and pants, and Sasuke knows the poison is spreading. He reaches for her medical pouch and unclasps it from her belt. Inside there are herbs, and syringes, first aid items, and other things Sasuke has no clue how to use.
In the light the small fire provides, Sasuke notices the changes in her; the ashen color of her face, the perspiration coating her skin, and her usually rosy lips turning blue.
A strangled cry forces him to move again, and he curses under his breath as he continues rummaging her things. She's dying and the realization bothers him more than he cares to admit; Sasuke knows he's on borrowed time.
Stupid, foolish woman, the words echoes in his head as he unrolls their travel blankets over her shivering body.
Before she's covered, Sasuke checks her pulse, brows furrowing in deep concern when he finds only a faint hint of her heartbeat. It's thready at best, and he needs to do something.
Anything.
He hears his name, he thinks, her voice is strained and the word broken on her lips, but the "kun" gives it away. He knows she's calling him.
His hand moves on its own, touching her cheek first, then her forehead, checking her temperature. Her skin is clammy and feverish, and he shouldn't be surprised with the fast development of her symptoms, but he still is.
"I'm here," he rasps, hopeful that she'll open her bright green eyes for him.
Sakura hums, and curls to his side, seeking his warmth even though she's warm enough for the both of them. She's crying, he notices; tracks of fresh tears run from one cheek down her neck.
He goes back to the pile of things he gathered from their backpacks and finds a piece of clean fabric. He folds the cloth and damps it with some water. When the cool compress is placed on her temple, Sakura sighs in relief, but her pained expression doesn't ease his mind. Not one bit.
Sasuke kneels beside her, pressing the cloth against her burning skin. His fingers brush her pink locks away, and he huffs, almost amused, when she blindly follows his touch. The Uchiha knows it's no use, but he calls her anyway, firm and louder this time. She doesn't respond.
He can't help but glare at her, because how dare she? She should have known better; she's scolded so many people about the dangers of battle wounds and enemies' weapons, him included.
The intensity of his gaze loses its strength when he considers everything again. Sakura is the last person that deserves such a fate; a painful, restless death. A death without a goodbye. A death that's not really hers.
He wishes he could take her place, and a little voice in his mind tells him that's how it was supposed to be. The Uchiha frowns, but it only lasts for a short moment as realization hits him; he's almost certain that she earned that scratch in that one moment he hesitated. That one moment where she pushed him out of the way. It was supposed to be him laying on this cold floor, withering away little by little. Not her.
"Idiot," he mutters, "why did you do that?"
"Sasu—"
Sakura's breathing becomes rattled, pain twisting her features, and for a brief moment he feels hope. If she can feel pain, it means she can still fight, right?
He abandons the cold compress on her forehead to move the covers aside. In the haste of getting her warm, he completely forgot about her wound. In a deliberate way, Sasuke removes her red dress, exposing the infected area. Blisters form close to the scratch, the flesh angry and swollen around the wound.
Sasuke snatches the first aid kit he found earlier in her pouch and prepares the ointment to clean the cut. He applies a little pressure as he works, covering the entire area with herbs once it looks sanitary enough. Sakura thrashes during the entire process, and the only way to avoid more damage and ensure that he can finish his work without hurting her more, is to straddle her small body, pinning her legs underneath him.
With his Sharingan, he keeps track of her progress, careful to not waste too much chakra. Now that he's taking a better look at it, he notices a concentration of the dark substance still close to the opened gash.
He doesn't even stop to think it through. Sasuke grabs a kunai and deepens the cut, pressing just right to push the poison out. She screams in response, shouting profanities, and jerking wildly in pain the entire time. But he can't stop now, even if the last thing he wants is to see her suffering, he can't stop; it's for her own good.
He snatches her wrists with one hand and presses her stomach with the other, his tomoes spinning and watching attentively as he removes as much of the malicious substance as he can. The dark, putrid liquid starts to ooze out of the wound, and Sasuke uses his knee to pin her to her side in an angle that helps the extraction process.
The moment that the last drop is removed, Sakura's chakra flares and she goes limp under him. He watches, Sharingan still taking in every detail, as her body starts to slowly give out and her nearly lifeless weight sinks to the ground.
No, no, no. She's supposed to get better...
When his gaze settles on her face, Sasuke notices how her breathing is shallow, a stark difference from a minute ago. Her features are slowly relaxing as if the pain is dissipating with each breath she takes.
Is this how it ends?
He's surprised when the thought crosses his mind. Sasuke's not one that contemplates the future; he's always thought he'd die young, after killing his brother. He's never expected to turn twenty. And he has never thought about rekindling the bonds he broke all those years ago when he left.
But here he is, a reinstated and pardoned Konoha shinobi, a war hero, a teammate, a friend, a brother. All things he wasn't two years ago. And now, before he even had the chance to really stop and think about his future, he can't.
This is not how we're supposed to end, he thinks, a hand running through his dark locks as he looks down at her with a myriad of emotions he's never associated with his name when looking at Sakura; pain, regret, remorse, sorrow, and pure, unadulterated sadness.
He releases her tiny wrists, sagging against her, defeated. The tiny hope he had gained leaves him as he continues to sink in his own storm, feeling as if he's being submerged under water, deprived of his air.
That obscure corner of his mind, the one that's full of self-loathing and doubt, whispers, "but did you even begin?''
On a whim, or maybe it's the bubbling rage inside of him, Sasuke growls like a wounded animal, releasing a burst of his chakra around them. His chest heaves and his shoulders shake, but he still feels numb. Empty.
He hears a whimper, even though his ears ring with the echo of his own anger. A choked gasp escapes him when he looks down.
It seems that the pulse of chakra he released has been absorbed by Sakura's body – somehow. His sharp eyes can clearly see her jugular pulsing, her eyes moving frantically underneath her lids, lashes fluttering against her lightly rosy cheeks.
There's… there is still a fighting chance.
As fast as he can, Sasuke scans his surroundings, noting every single resource available to him. He eliminates anything he can't use and lists possible steps; everything happens in a span of thirty seconds.
He considers summoning Garuda to take them home, but the amount of chakra is not enough. He considers Aoda – but that would require even more chakra – or any other smaller snake that could assist. But the solution, the best-case scenario, comes from a stupid idea that only Naruto could come up with. And maybe it's worth the shot, because all Naruto's ideas work in some way.
As blood runs from Sakura's wound towards the floor, a red path painting her fair skin, Sasuke transfers most of his chakra to her, calculating exactly how much he'll need to succeed. Then, he grabs her hands with his, swipes her thumb over her own blood, and guides her through the signs of Kuchiyose no Jutsu.
He pushes the last of his chakra to her hands, forcing the jutsu to drain the previously infused amount when he says the words. The smoke takes him by surprise (deep down he didn't have much faith in this plan), and when he sees a slime creature not bigger than his hand, he sighs in relief.
The tiny slug is very polite and right to the point. It pleases him greatly when she quickly understands the situation and gets to work. Katsuyu guides him, asking him to confirm where the rest of the venom is located, and with his bloodline once more he scans Sakura's body, pointing out the chakra path that is blocked and tainted by the poison.
The summon tells him he did a great job considering the limited resources and chakra available to him. Although she's being very helpful and sharing more than necessary, narrating her every move and findings, the slug's little voice trembles when she says that if the substance had reached Sakura's heart, things would have been different.
And suddenly, the severity of this predicament downs on him (again), because he has seen with his own eyes how the dark swirl is stuck a few inches short of that destination. His own heart constricts painfully, galloping against his ribcage as a life without pink flashes in the front of his mind.
"Sasuke-san?" Katsuyu calls, "ready?"
The question breaks him out of his stupor, and he nods quickly, pushing aside the plummeting feeling in order to get to more important matters. Sakura.
Together, they isolate the venom and the slug coerces it out of Sakura's main chakra path, pushing it towards the opened wound. It doesn't take long, and as the last drops leave Sakura's body, he notices how the color starts to return to her pale face.
"It's done," the slug says as she slides away from Sakura, taking the poison with her. "Sakura-sama is still weak and will need to break through the fever on her own."
"What do you mean?"
"My time here is ending, and you both need your rest. Her body will need to recover on its own until her chakra reserves are full again."
"I see. Thank you"
"No, thank you, Uchiha-san. Please take care of her!"
"Aa."
The summon disappears not long after, and Sasuke knows he'll be eternally grateful for its help.
For the first time in two hours, he allows himself to relax. Sasuke slouches backwards, leaning on the cave wall, head tipped up. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs completely, and it's so invigorating that makes him think how a simple action that he does everyday – all the time – can feel so different, so good.
He reaches for the medical supplies and gets back to work. With a clinical eye, he carefully sterilizes her wound, cleans her skin, and then bandages it. He checks her temperature, tilts her head to give her some water, and repeats the routine like clockwork.
The silence, which usually is a comfort to the last Uchiha, is now a nuisance. It makes his mind overwork, inflicting painful thoughts, and aggravating his already guilty consciousness. The wind whispers angrily outside, though he hears it loud and clear.
She almost died.
In his place.
She's suffering.
Because of him.
Again.
A small whimper escapes her, and Sasuke thinks with mild exasperation, that's becoming one of his new favorite sounds. Maybe it comes second, losing only to her sickeningly sweet laughter.
She whispers and mumbles and Sasuke knows it's the remnants of the poison talking. And, between nonsense filled dreams, curses and random fits of rage, Sakura cries – a lot. It's not really a surprise when he stops to think about it, but it's not a pleasant sight, even though he knows it means she's getting better, naturally recovering.
She cries about the Dobe not realizing the Hyuuga girl is madly in love with him since Kami knows when, and how it pains her to see him being a fool every day, completely oblivious.
She cries about Tsunade going on a vacation and not inviting her.
She cries about her parents. Her mother's incessant inquiries about weddings and grand-babies, and her daddy's poor sense of humor that she secretly loves.
She cries about Ino. How the blonde keeps forgetting to return her things, and insists on pushing Sakura to date, because… she shouldn't wait forever.
He doesn't really know how to react to the last one. Sasuke is in a phase where emotions and feelings are still confusing, and there's also this new part of him that constantly fights between what's right versus what he wants. And as much as he wants her, he knows he's not right for her. It wouldn't be the right decision.
As the hallucinations go back and forth, there are more broken words than complete thoughts, but at a certain moment he knows he's there with her. The next words are proof enough and nobody can say otherwise.
"Please don't— don't go Sasu—hn."
Her voice is broken and exhausted, loaded with so much pain that he can almost touch it.
"I'm not going anywhere, I'm right here." He says resolutely, because he's done running away.
Sasuke takes her hand on his, comforting her like she did once. He's not sure Sakura can hear him, and he squeezes her hand – a little harder than necessary – waiting for her to squeeze back.
She doesn't.
He watches as she struggles through painful memories, and as the masochist he is, Sasuke relives them along with her. Some words are welcome, and even missed, but others are venom and sting more than expected. He doesn't miss the irony of all, wondering if fate is messing with him – if such a thing exists, that is.
The torture session, as he calls it, lasts no longer than a few hours. Sakura's fever breaks sometime between her memories of the war and the events after. Her natural color is returning fully and even the tip of her nose is pink.
As her senses start to work again, Sakura tries to raise herself into a sitting position, and she huffs, frustrated, when she can't. Sasuke soothes her confusion by drawing little circles on her back.
"Why?" He asks, his voice lower than a whisper.
Although Sasuke's tried to contain his anger, frustration – or whatever this is – he can feel it coming off in waves as he finally sees her eyes again; as glassy and green as they were that morning. There was a moment, not long ago, he thought he wouldn't see them again.
When she doesn't reply, he tells her how careless she was. How they were supposed to work together as a team and not jump to save each other's lives like when they were kids. He scolds her like she's a petulant child that disobeyed her parent's orders and because of that she'd hurt herself.
Sakura doesn't say a word or look at him. She moves away with great effort, leaning on the wall of the cave beside him. When she's settled, she looks up at him. And this time, her eyes are blazing with anger.
She tilts her chin up in defiance and says, tone flat, "because I'm a medic."
They both scowl, hearing the statement as the lie it is; it's not only because of that.
"You are an idiot, that's what you are."
His words, his voice grows heated and Sasuke is not sure if they are directed to her or himself. And as expected, Sakura gives back as much as she gets, matching his tone and glare.
"Oh, excuse me for trying to save my teammate's life," she tells him like what she did was a normal occurrence. "I didn't know it was an idiotic idea."
"Tch. You shouldn't have done that, Sakura." He reproaches, nearly losing his strength when he continues, "I could—" have lost you.
"You don't tell me what to do, Uchiha."
"Tell me why you did that," he probes, despite the way she crosses her arms and throws him a menace look.
"I don't know!" Sakura yells, "my body just moved, okay?!"
A deafening silence follows then. The tension crackles explosively as they lock their eyes in a familiar stare-down. The weight and meaning of her statement are not lost on him.
He thinks of his day, how it was supposed to be just an easy return home. He thinks of how scared he was from the moment she fell until she opened her eyes again. He thinks of how infuriating this woman is. How she drives him crazy, pushing him to situations where he cannot do a thing.
Her chest heavens, but Sasuke knows it has nothing to do with the poison, not anymore. When he moves closer, lips parting to answer her, it's not like either of them expected.
He crushes his lips to hers, moving them effortlessly, showing her the severity of her actions and what they— she means to him.
It's messy, and desperate, and belated, but still full of emotions and meaning. Their first kiss tells her he won't risk losing her again. Maybe it's not right, but he knows it is what they both want.
And this is how they finally begin.
