Rating: M
Words: 5300
Pairing: So, I ship Kakashi/Tenzo, this story definitely leans that way but there's nothing graphic about their relationship. In fact, it could probably be read as close friendship too. . . but it's not, because that's the brand of trash I am.
Warnings: Torture, violence, pain, blood, mission gone wrong, mention of considering suicide, pain as self-imposed punishment (self-hurt I guess?), and fluff (did you know you could have a fluffy torture one-shot?)
Author's Note: I've taken some creative liberties with Tenzo's healing abilities in this story. I headcanon this, though I don't know that there's a lot of support for it in canon. I think it works. Also, the story is dark and gritty, it's meant to be. Title comes from the song On My Own by Ashes Remain, and I've wanted to write this story since I heard it. Thanks for reading, reviewing, messaging. Enjoy!
Blood dripped from Tenzo's chin, speckling his grey flak vest with crimson as he jerked against the bonds. The unyielding manacles were tight enough to constrict the circulation to his fingers. Both wrists were fastened to the damp, stone wall, arms held out straight to either side. The Anbu shifted positions for the dozenth time, bending one knee to tuck a foot behind him. If his legs gave out in this position, Tenzo's body weight would almost certainly dislocate one, or both, shoulders.
While this wasn't the first time Tenzo found himself in chains, it was the first time he felt terror clawing through him. His cell, some sort of underground chamber, was nearly pitch black except for a single torch on the opposite side of the room. A desk nestled in the pool of light cast by the torch, its surface covered with faintly glowing flasks in a myriad of colors. Most were virulent shades of green, but there were purples, pinks, and blues mixed in as well.
Memory flashed into Tenzo's mind. A syringe full of oddly colored liquid had been pressed into his arm, and a soft voice spoke comfortingly. This is an experimental serum, but we must advance our understanding of how it works. You don't mind, do you? Such a good boy. Pale hands curled in his hair, almost affectionately. That had been before he realized that his captor was a monster, not a man.
As the memory dissipated, fear arced higher, and Tenzo fought his restraints. After trying for nearly three hours to break free, the Anbu knew it was useless. He wondered if the rest of his men had gotten away, but that seemed unlikely. The fighting had been as vicious as unexpected. His Anbu squad had been on a separate mission when the team found evidence of a high value target. Rather than risk losing either, Tenzo had split his men, half for reconnaissance, and half for the original mission. That was when everything went wrong.
In addition to the wound hidden beneath the mop of bloody brown hair, Tenzo had taken multiple injuries. A deep gash in his right bicep still bled, crimson liquid puddling beneath his arm. The slash had been brutal enough to nearly sever the muscle. A savage upsweep had shattered Tenzo's porcelain cat mask, forcing shards into his cheeks and chin as it fell away. He'd lost his head protector in the same attack. The fight ended when the Anbu was rendered unconscious by a surge of chakra to his chest.
Calm logic, usually Tenzo's forte, was difficult to grasp now. He closed his eyes, and counted backward from thirty to center himself and slow his heartbeat. If he could get one hand free, he could escape. They had taken his weapons, of course, but they would have little defense against his wood style jutsu if he acted quickly. Except, his captors weren't going to leave Tenzo alone much longer, and he still couldn't get free.
As if summoned by the thought, the door swung silently inward. Tenzo had expected it to creak with disuse, that would have been fitting in a place like this. He immediately recognized the two men who entered his cell side by side. Tenzo dropped his foot back to the ground, standing to full height, as a low growl rumbled in his chest. Neither captor looked impressed. The shorter man lifted the torch from its wall bracket as they approached.
"Well, well." The dark-haired man's voice was a soft, hypnotic hiss. It resonated deeply in Tenzo's chest, and his struggling body stilled at the words. "If I hadn't been forced to flee the Leaf before finishing my experiments, I might have made something out of you."
Tenzo wanted to curse his captor, but the muscles of his throat locked tight. He couldn't force out a breath, much less words. He wanted to display the power resulting from this man's experiments, wood style tearing through his chest and heart. Instead, he stood frozen, trembling and transfixed by the golden eyes that haunted his nightmares.
"You're healing slower than you should." A hand fisted in Tenzo's hair, jerked his head upright, then tilted it to examine the damage. Pale fingers pressed the cut on his forehead, raising needles of pain from the abused skin. Tenzo couldn't have screamed if he wanted to; he was lost in the vortex swirling around the man's vertical pupils. Orochimaru leaned forward, and flicked a long tongue against the still damp blood on Tenzo's cheek. "Why are you still bleeding?" The man asked, as if Tenzo's wounds were a personal insult.
Kabuto stepped closer, dropped the torch into a holder on Tenzo's right side, and eyed the captive speculatively. Then, he crouched and unrolled a cloth that was filled with multiple implements, which, under any other circumstances, would have meant healing. Here, they could only be indicative of torture.
"Although I haven't had the opportunity to test the hypothesis, I believe the speed of healing is directly related to the severity of his injuries." Kabuto frowned at the items in the pouch before selecting a small, thin blade. "I theorize that his body responds normally to stimuli when the wounds are minor, to conserve chakra. A major wound, however, would cause his healing potential to activate automatically."
Orochimaru shoved Tenzo's head into the wall hard enough to daze him, then stepped away. Blinking away blurry stars, the Anbu tried to suppress the hysteria rising in his chest. There weren't many things that scared Tenzo, but the flashbacks and nightmares from his time with Orochimaru were at the top of that list. Torchlight glinted off the blade in Kabuto's hand, and despite Tenzo's clenched throat, a whimper of fear escaped. He reprimanded himself harshly. I'm Anbu, I'm stronger than I used to be. I won't scream this time; I won't give them the satisfaction.
The serpent-like man smiled cruelly, meeting Tenzo's eyes. "There's no time like the present to test your theory."
"Of course, Orochimaru-sama." Kabuto bowed his head as blue light surrounded his free hand, glowing off the scalpel in the other. As he stalked closer, Tenzo steeled himself against the fear, and emptied his mind. He made it ten minutes before the first scream tore itself free.
"The amount of damage that can be repaired appears to be limited." Kabuto said, turning toward Orochimaru and wiping his hands on a bloody rag. Then he checked the straps that held his subject to the table. Despite being unconscious again, either from pain or blood loss, Tenzo's body was repairing. Kabuto tossed the cloth aside. "I believe that it would be possible to damage his body badly enough that he couldn't mend the damage, either because he lacked the chakra reserves, or because the wounds were too catastrophic."
Orochimaru glanced at the Anbu thoughtfully, eyes narrowing. "So, it was only a partial success, then? He's not as powerful as the First Hokage?"
"I believe it's similar to Tsunade-sama's skills, my lord. I've lacerated several organs, and they repair themselves, albeit not as swiftly as one would want. I haven't destroyed any yet, but I don't think his body could repair that damage. If I were to rupture his heart, for instance, I'm nearly certain he would die." Kabuto frowned, considering his research. "Without something suppressing his chakra, he should be able to heal through most other non-lethal wounds though. I've been planning to try a chakra numbing poison to see if it affects the outcome. Without access to his chakra, I believe he would be as susceptible to death as anyone else."
Orochimaru nodded, gilded eyes sliding over the captive's body. A table of rough wood had been brought in after the Anbu collapsed, unable to stand, even after being given time to heal. The man's arms were bound, palms up, with straps around his wrists and biceps; another circled Tenzo's chest. Ever the cautious one, Kabuto had also secured their captive at the ankles and thighs. The final strip of leather ran over the man's forehead, half covered by sweaty hair.
Tenzo's muscled body mapped the evidence of Kabuto's experiments over the past five days. His flak vest, now more crimson than grey, was heaped beneath the table, along with the tattered black shirt he'd been wearing. Crimson and brown streaks covered Tenzo's chest and arms, and blood pooled beneath the man's back, running from a deep puncture wound between his ribs. The only places that weren't red, were the pale lines where tendrils of sweat had washed the gore away.
Kabuto was nothing, if not thorough. The man was a medical genius, nearly rivaling Tsunade. But, more importantly, he understood that people were a means to an end in advancing his research. Tenzo's body repaired the gaping wound in his chest, muscles reattaching, as his captors watched.
"Fascinating," Orochimaru smiled around the word. "Has the process slowed in response to the amount of damage you've inflicted?"
"Yes," Kabuto admitted, pushing his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. "He's nearly exhausted his reserve chakra, and I need to be careful not to push him so far that I can't heal him myself."
Green light surrounded Kabuto's hands as he supplemented the processed taking place, closing Tenzo's chest wound instantly. Only a small, star-shaped scar remained, puckering the fresh skin. Dozens of new marks littered the man's body, and Kabuto was just getting started.
Tenzo woke, and his body instinctively tried to cower, coiling in on itself. The bonds prevented the movement, of course, but the Anbu couldn't control the reaction any more than he could control the shudder that ran through his body. Tenzo's heart raced, and cold sweat dappled his forehead before he realized he was alone. The darkness pressed close, like an old friend, and he tried to sink into it.
Tenzo was dimly aware that his body hurt, but pain was constant enough that he no longer remembered what it felt like to not be suffering. He hadn't eaten in, his mind struggled to come up with a number, the days ran together in an endless string of torture. Tenzo fainted when the agony became too great, his mind shutting down to protect itself. Then, while he was unconscious, it would repair, or Kabuto would heal him, and the pain would start again.
Tenzo tried to lick his lips to impart some moisture to them, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He'd been given water twice, with the option to drink or drown as Kabuto poured it down his throat.
Had Kabuto and Orochimaru been trying to extract information, it would have been easier to bear, but this torture was completely pointless. The Anbu was another experiment to them, a test subject in the cruel game of how much pain they could inflict. Eventually, they would take it too far, and kill Tenzo, but the Anbu couldn't bring himself to care. Kabuto had almost done so once already.
Sucking in a desperate breath, Tenzo tried to protectively curl up on his side as the memory laced through him. In their last session, Kabuto had punctured Tenzo's lung with a scalpel. The pain had been excruciating, and each time he struggled to draw a breath, it radiated through his shoulder and back in searing waves. Tenzo had tasted blood in his throat as darkness closed around his vision. He couldn't get enough air to scream, to beg for the pain to stop, to do anything beyond panic, which only made the drowning sensation worse. Kabuto had stood coldly to the side, watching Tenzo while making notes.
Since so many days had passed without any sign of the rest of his team, Tenzo could only assume they'd been killed. His own screams were the only ones that echoed off that walls. He'd missed checking in with the Hokage, but it would take days before the village realized the mission had been compromised. And once Tsunade did, she may or may not send an extraction team. Tenzo wasn't sure that he could last much longer, either way. He could already feel the cracks splintering through his determination to live, threatening to shatter him beyond repair.
Tenzo knew that his loyalty to Konoha might cost his life. Anbu were tools to be sacrificed. Not long after Tenzo made the move from Root to Anbu, Kakashi-senpai had pulled him aside after a disastrous mission. He'd stared at Tenzo with that piercing, mismatched gaze until he was sure he had the younger man's attention, then reminded him that one day they might be called on to lay down their lives for the village. In fact, the longer the pair stayed in the organization, the more likely their sacrifice became. Kakashi hadn't flinched from the reality, neither had Tenzo.
The years spent with Kakashi had changed Tenzo. His life had consisted of an empty childhood that he couldn't remember, experimentation under Orochimaru, and brainwashing under Danzo. Then, Kakashi had altered the entire course of Tenzo's life by sparing it, and showing him that there was more than mindless rules and obedience. He'd helped Tenzo find himself, and somewhere along the way, priorities had shifted and life wasn't just about surviving anymore. He'd fought harder by Kakashi's side, pulled him from death numerous times, and seen the favor returned. Kakashi had gained as much of Tenzo loyalty as the village, and he would gladly lay down his life for either.
But not this, Tenzo thought with an uncomfortable constriction in his chest. A heroic death in the line of duty was one thing, but dying as a plaything was quite another. The more the days dragged on, the less Tenzo cared about escaping, and the more he thought about ending things himself. If he moved slightly, he could force Kabuto to injure him more gravely than intended, pierce his heart or nick an artery, something the medic couldn't stop. Tenzo's training had familiarized him with the locations that caused the swiftest death. He knew that wasn't what his senpai had intended with the lessons, but-I'm sorry that I'm not stronger, Kakashi. I can't do this much longer.
Tenzo wondered if news of his death would reach the village, or if he would simply be marked as missing, assumed killed in action. Would anyone tell Kakashi? Probably not, shadows and all of that. Would Kakashi look for answers? Would he even realize that Tenzo was missing? As close as they had been in Anbu, the pair had drifted apart once the older man left the organization. Then, they'd been thrown back together for Team Seven, Naruto's training, and everything had rushed back with the easy comfort that was characteristic of the silver-haired jonin. But Tenzo had been awed to silence as always, and now, he would never see Kakashi again. A sob rose in the back of his throat.
"Ah, you're awake. That's good." Kabuto had crept alarmingly close while Tenzo was lost in his thoughts. "We're going to try something new this time. I don't think you'll enjoy it, but try to remember that everything I'm doing is for the greater good."
Tenzo wished he could spit in the man's face, but there wasn't enough moisture in his mouth.
Kabuto waved a hand dismissively, then there was a sharp sting in Tenzo's arm. "I've injected you with poison." The man said the words calmly, but Tenzo's heart rate picked up in response. "It interferes with your ability to use chakra. If my theory is correct, your body should be unable to heal itself. Of course, I'll have to make sure that I cause enough damage for your automatic response to kick in." Blue light glowed around Kabuto's hands, filling the space. Despite his determination to be strong, Tenzo started screaming before the first wound spilled blood down his side.
Days dragged, until Tenzo lost all sense of time. He no longer knew how long he'd been held captive, or why he was still alive. Most of the time, he waited for death to take him, though it was always just out of reach. Kabuto had nearly succeeded twice more, though, by pushing Tenzo's body past its natural limits in the name of research. Each time, the man recalled Tenzo from the edge of oblivion, even as he longed to plunge over it.
The injuries had grown steadily worse with the passage of time. Broken bones and severed muscles knit themselves back together, though they took longer to heal than less traumatic wounds. Kabuto had tried burns too, holding a torch against Tenzo's forearm until the skin bubbled, blackened, then melted away, leaving a sickly, sweet stench in the air. Before that wound was healed, Kabuto poured acid over Tenzo's other arm. The skin sizzled, and sloughed away, layer by agonizing layer, leaving exposed bone behind. Tenzo had howled in agony before losing consciousness, while Kabuto made notes in his file without looking up.
Later, Tenzo woke to a new kind of pain twisting through his stomach and chest. He'd retched violently, then shook with uncontrollable chills for an hour before the hallucinations set in. Nightmares came to life, and Tenzo screamed until he couldn't force another sound from his throat. There was one, brief glimpse of hope in the darkness, an image of Kakashi striding into the room with his achingly familiar eye-smile. He'd been untying Tenzo when Kabuto slit his throat from behind. Kakashi's blood had washed over Tenzo, but he couldn't move to help the man. The jonin had tried to staunch the crimson flow, gurgling words that could never leave his lips because the damage to his vocal cords was too severe.
Kabuto had eventually purged the poison he'd put in his captive's body, leaving Tenzo weeping on the table and crying out for Kakashi. There was no moisture to spare for tears, but his body shook with the effort of dry sobbing anyway. Tenzo knew the end was coming soon. Pieces of himself slid beyond reach, and he no longer had the energy to recall them. He surrendered to the madness that now protected him. The only tests that Kabuto hadn't completed were the ones to see if Tenzo could regenerate organs and limbs. Those would come soon.
When he heard the door open, Tenzo didn't even turn toward it. Instead, he closed his eyes, and tensed in preparation for what was coming. He was completely spent from being suspended in a constant state of near chakra depletion, and physical exhaustion. A hand brushed his cheek, turning the Anbu's face. Golden eyes glowed softly, and Orochimaru smiled. Then, the pain began again.
The rich, metallic scent hung heavy in the air, strong enough to blot out the musty smell of disuse that always came with underground rooms like this one. It managed to disguise the stale sweat and human waste stench as well. Even so, Kakashi breathed through his mouth as he padded across the room, kunai drawn. Blood was everywhere, making the floor sticky underfoot, coating Tenzo-the body, not Tenzo-Kakashi's mind interjected desperately, attempting to maintain his shell of feigned apathy.
Orochimaru had fled at the first sign of Leaf Shinobi, but the guards he'd left behind had put up a good fight. Kakashi's tracking team was looking for signs of the sannin's passage, but he didn't expect them to find anything. This hideout was probably more convenient, than important. It had simply been the quickest place to bring Tenzo once he was captured, but not ideal for defense.
The Copy Ninja had taken half a dozen wounds infiltrating this stronghold, but he ignored them and focused on his former teammate. Tenzo, Kakashi's chest constricted as he looked at the unmoving man. The Anbu didn't turn toward his rescuer, didn't fight the bonds that held him to the table. Kakashi exhaled, and tried not to calculate how much blood the human body could lose before death was inevitable. He knew the numbers, but they scrambled frantically around inside his head, refusing to rest.
There's so much blood, unfamiliar fear whispered as Kakashi reached the table, and started to cut through the straps. Tenzo's chest and arms were a patchwork of unfamiliar scars. Pale, white streaks crossed his ribs on both sides, and Kakashi traced the circular, red scar between Tenzo's ribs that hadn't been there before. His hand trembled as he drew back, then fury welled in Kakashi's chest when he realized the final joint on Tenzo's left index finger was missing.
Though Tsunade had told Kakashi there was a slim chance of finding the Anbu team alive, he had known it was unlikely. When Anbu ran into trouble, it tended to be the type that you couldn't recover from. Kakashi knew this was recovery, not extraction, but he'd hoped anyway. The rest of his team remained above ground, awaiting his next command. Kakashi had intentionally not brought Sakura into the hideout in case there was nothing she could do. And, if he found Tenzo dead, he didn't want to risk falling apart in front of his former student.
The body still hadn't moved. Kakashi pressed his ear against the other man's blood and sweat smeared chest, listening for a heartbeat. He held his breath, willing all the other noise away to focus on reality rather than hope. Kakashi had almost given up, when he heard the impossibly faint sound. That was all he needed.
Kakashi scanned the room quickly, then gave up on finding Tenzo's missing armor and shirt. Instead, he pulled the white cloak from his shoulders, and draped it around the Anbu. Kakashi lifted the other man against his chest, careful of the injuries he couldn't see. "I've got you, Tenzo," Kakashi murmured. "Just hold on a little longer."
Cradling the cloaked form in his arms, Kakashi moved through the labyrinth of shadowed passageways. When he leaped upward through the entrance, his single dark eye scanned quickly over the gathered ninja, seeking the one he needed. Sakura crouched in the shadows, biting her lip, and toying with pink hair. Another leap carried Kakashi to her side and he knelt, gently laying Tenzo on the ground. Sakura didn't startle at Kakashi's appearance, but when his cloak fell open to reveal Tenzo's chest, her emerald eyes widened in shock.
Without awaiting a command, Sakura hovered her hands over Tenzo, and a nimbus of green light surrounded her. Kakashi forced himself to unclench his fists as he looked down at the body bathed in eerie light. Tenzo looked younger, fragile, without his armor or head protector. Kakashi watched the other man's chest, trying to determine if it was moving, straining to hear the wheeze of breath that said he was injured, but alive. The healing glow faded before he could be sure.
Sakura turned away, face contorting with pain as tears filled her eyes. "Kakashi-sensei-"
"What are you doing? Heal him, Sakura." Kakashi barely recognized his own voice as terror rose in it. Without meaning to, he clenched one hand around Sakura's upper arm, and jerked her around to face him.
The girl shook her head. "I can't-"
Kakashi couldn't let Sakura complete that sentence, couldn't finish the thought in his own mind. The indifference that he'd cloaked around himself faded like mist, and anger surged in its place. "You're a medical ninja. Do your job."
Sakura's voice quivered. "Sensei, I-I can't. There's nothing to heal."
The sun rose over Konoha, gilded the buildings, and breathed life back into the village. Kakashi sat on the window sill, left shoulder leaning against the glass, and one, long leg stretched in front of him. His other leg was drawn up, Icha Icha Tactics resting against it. The familiar words went unread as Kakashi gazed over the village, lost in his own thoughts.
Being in the hospital put Kakashi on edge. The white walls, the antiseptic smell, the buzzing and beeping of machines, it all drove him insane. He exhaled, then tipped his head back against the wall. Kakashi's wounds were mostly healed now, though he had opted for the normal way, rather than medical ninjutsu. Sakura hadn't offered on their rushed return to the village, and even if she had, he would have refused. When they got back, Tsunade had taken one look at the stubborn set of Kakashi's jaw, and given up on trying to get him to see reason.
Kakashi touched the cut on his forearm. It had been stitched and wrapped, a second reminder of his own carelessness. As if he needed another. A thin ribbon of red was visible beneath the white bandaging. Kakashi hadn't even realized he'd been bleeding until Sakura pointed it out. Fingers ran over the injury, pressing until pain shot through his arm, stealing Kakashi's breath. He squeezed his eye shut, welcoming and hating the reminder that he was alive. When the door swung inward, Kakashi turned toward it, releasing the pressure.
"Have you been here all night, Kakashi?" Tsunade sounded surprised as she swept into the room. Her brown eyes narrowed as she took in his appearance. "Have you slept? Eaten? Showered?"
Kakashi lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "Do you have a mission for me?" The jonin ignored the way the Hokage's lips compressed into a thin line at the rudeness of his tone.
Tsunade crossed her arms over her chest. Despite the early hour, she looked ready to shake some sense into the wayward jonin meeting her glare. After his team came back from their mission, Tsunade had taken one look at Kakashi, and told him to take as much time off as he needed. When his sarcasm got the better of him, and he'd asked her what missions were currently available, the Hokage had put Kakashi on a mandatory two-week break.
Sitting still was driving Kakashi insane. He wanted to be out of the village, moving, breathing, training, doing anything but trying not to drown under the weight of his failures.
The woman sighed. "Kakashi you couldn't have known-"
"I don't need your absolution," Kakashi growled, not bothering to moderate his voice. "I need to do my job. Let me go after Orochimaru and Kabuto."
"No," Tsunade said, pity slipping into her brown eyes as she looked from Kakashi, to the man lying on the bed. He hadn't asked how Tsunade knew that he was friends with Tenzo, or if that had been the reason she'd selected him for this mission in the first place. As Hokage, she had a wealth of knowledge at her fingertips, including active and past Anbu records. Kakashi knew that his file was closely linked with Tenzo's. Considering the other man's time as Captain Yamato with Team Seven, it wouldn't have been hard to surmise that the men were close.
"Don't you want to be here when he wakes up?" Tsunade challenged.
Kakashi glanced at Tenzo, and felt shame ripple through him. The Anbu's ashen face blended into the sheets and pillows behind him, and he seemed even more frail than when Kakashi had carried him from Orochimaru's hideout. There was a pale mark on Tenzo's cheek, a new scar that Kakashi hadn't noticed until the blood had been cleaned away. It followed his cheekbone in a gentle arc, barely missed the man's eye, then disappeared into the brown hair at his temple.
Exhaling roughly, the silver-haired man tossed his book onto the chair next to Tenzo's bed, and started to pace. "I wasn't there when he needed me," Kakashi's voice broke. "Why should I be here if he wakes up?"
"'S what friends do, senpai." Tenzo's voice was hardly more than a whisper, but both Tsunade and Kakashi turned toward it. The jonin's chest clenched so tightly that he couldn't force out another breath. Tenzo's eyes opened to slits, while his lips tried to curl into a weak smile.
Kakashi instantly moved closer to the bed, while Tsunade hung back to give them space. Hurt shadowed the Anbu's eyes when he finally forced them open, but the pain eased somewhat when he looked up at Kakashi. The jonin brushed brown hair away from the man's forehead. "Tenzo," Kakashi breathed, trying to find the words he needed to say.
"You were late," Tenzo interrupted, shifting away from the fingers combing through his hair.
Kakashi chuckled, despite himself. "Well, I can't always be there. At some point, you're going to have to start taking care of yourself."
"I can't help if my senpai didn't train me well enough-"
Until the door clicked shut behind her, neither man noticed the Hokage as she stepped out of the room.
An hour later, after giving Kakashi and Tenzo time to catch up, Tsunade went back to check the Anbu's vitals. She expected to hear banter and laughter, but the room was completely silent. Tsunade frowned, wondering why. She didn't think Kakashi was foolish enough to suggest that Tenzo leave without medical clearance. Even if he had been, Tenzo would have waited for approval. That one lived by the book on just about everything.
Tsunade's brown eyes slid to the usual places. Kakashi wasn't sitting in the window, where he perched when not confined to the bed. Nor was he in the chair where his flak vest and book still waited. Maybe he'd finally gone home to shower and sleep, Kami knew he needed it. She turned toward to check on her patient, and couldn't keep the smile from her lips.
Though the hospital bed was hardly big enough for both, Kakashi and Tenzo made it work with a tangle of limbs and blankets. Kakashi lay on his side, dirty uniform contrasting with the clean, white sheets. Had the man not looked so peaceful, Tsunade might have hit him for compromising a sterile environment. But the woman wasn't heartless; it was obvious that these two needed each other.
The jonin had finally surrendered to exhaustion, falling asleep with his head pillowed against the Anbu's shoulder. A blanket had been half dragged over Kakashi, undoubtedly Tenzo's thoughtfulness before he'd fallen asleep as well. Their bodies curled toward each other, chests rising and falling with regular rhythm of contented rest. But, perhaps the most surprising thing to Tsunade, was that Kakashi and Tenzo's fingers were loosely linked together over the Anbu's stomach.
Some color had returned to Tenzo's cheeks, and Kakashi looked relaxed for the first time since he'd stumbled into the Hokage's office with the bloody Anbu in his arms. Tsunade hadn't expected them to find survivors, but sending Kakashi had felt right. If anyone would be able to rescue Tenzo and his team, it would be the stubborn jonin. She'd seen the fevered flash of worry in Kakashi's eye when she called him to her office to relay the mission details. After receiving them, he'd assembled his team, and left within the hour.
Tenzo whimpered and stirred in his sleep, undoubtedly reliving the nightmare. Tsunade started toward the bed, but Kakashi was faster. His free hand curled on Tenzo's shoulder and he nestled closer, like the warmth of his body could drive out the darkness.
"'S okay, I'm here," Kakashi mumbled, without opening his eyes. Tsunade wondered if he acted out from instinct or conscious thought.
In the end, it didn't matter; the Anbu relaxed and within moments, the steady cadence of their breathing resumed. Tsunade smiled, and walked back to the door. Tenzo's follow-up exam could wait a few more hours.