Authors Notes:

Had this story sitting around for ages, thought i might as well try to agnst it up and post it ^_^

Thanks to Callow and Calmsummerstorm, for beta-ing and being awesomely ninja-ish.

All Naruto characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto

She had never been strong enough. She had always been too kind, too sweet and oh so fragile. She had never looked as breakable as she did now. He wasn't fast enough to reach her, to protect her and now she lay there, body thrown across the earth like an unwanted doll. He had watched as she had fallen, blood blossoming from her chest, spilling from her mouth, running down her chin, her neck. The enemy had fallen moments later under his own blade, his rage giving him strength. He had not been quick enough, now her blood spread across the grass, and he could do nothing to stop it.

He scooped her up from the ground; cradling her still form to his chest he began the run back to Konoha, as fast as his weary feet would take him. Her skin was pale; her eyes stared up at him, glazed, not really seeing. Her breathing and rapid heart beat were so quiet in comparison to the sound of his own, thunderous in his ears. As soon as the odds had turned against them, he should have been by her side. This was all his fault; he should have protected her better, told her to run sooner. He ignored his own wounds, the ache in his legs, the stabbing pains in his shoulder, the cold sting in his stomach and pushed himself faster. Trees whipped past him, ripping the mask that covered his face cutting the skin underneath. Get her back, the medics will heal her. She's seen worse than this. She'll recover; she just needs a medic. This became his mantra; he clung to it to keep himself centred. Rin, Rin, you are going to be fine…just fine .It was something to anchor himself to and it was the only thing that kept him putting one foot in front of the other. He pushed back the darkness that kept eating at the sides of his vision. All the while in the back of his mind a sinister voice kept pointing out that no one could survive with such substantial blood loss, the inevitable fact her heart beat was fading. Even Tsunade-Senpai couldn't bring back the dead.

The trees were beginning to thin; it wouldn't be long now before he reached the village gates and the hospital within reach beyond that. He was grateful he knew the guard on duty at the gate, who waved him through, recognising the flash of silver hair and the tiny medic limp in his arms. He was given a wide berth as he lurched through the village, Civilians stoped to stare, a fellow ninja ran ahead to inform the hospital. It seemed like an age to get through the paved streets until he staggered through the hospital doors, all too aware of how cold Rin's skin was. He managed to get them to the front desk before a flurry of white coats and hands had pulled her from his weakening grip. Somewhere in the midst of the craziness he could hear the harsh shouting orders of a certain blonde medic and he was content knowing he had done all he could. Leaning against the nearest wall he let himself slide to the ground. His hands were shaking now as he touched the blood that soaked through his flak jacket. Rin's blood? There was a lot of it…, mixed with his own? How annoying. The darkness was stronger and now he could no longer push it back as it swept across his vision. As his eyes began to close of their own accord, he hazily took note that the whirlwind of medics and doctors had opened up to include him. He felt hands pulling at his clothes as they dragged him onto a gurney. He tried to wave them away, he was just tired he didn't need any help, but his arms weren't listening to him anymore. Leaving himself in the hands of those that swept around him, he surrendered to the darkness and fell into blissful unconsciousness.

**************************************

The smell was the first thing he noticed when he woke. Bleach, it stung, harsh and abrasive on his sensitive nose. Hospitals, oh, how he hated them. The last time he had been here was after Obito's death, Minato had marched him in to check his eye for any signs of rejection. There had been surprisingly little problems with the transplant, and Obito's gift ensured his career as a shinobi didn't come to a premature end. Tsunade-Sempai had told it to him like it was, he was incredibly lucky. The eye had taken despite the odds and Tsunade had been full of praise for the young medic who had saved his vision. Minato had almost visibly swelled with pride when Tsunade had told him of the complexity of the operation the young medic had successfully completed. Kakashi himself had been both grateful and quietly proud of his teammate. Because of her, he would see many more missions.

Missions. ….Missions….his mind swirled in panic, Missions like the last one, that had ended in ambush. That had ended in Rin, cold and bloody in his arms. His mind reeled, suddenly the smell didn't matter, thehospital was unimportant and all he could think of was his teammate. He managed to drag his eyes open, and took in his surrounds. Wasting no time he ripped the drip from his arm and ignoring the fact that the room was still hazy, staggered into the hall. Using the walls and any surface within arms length for support he lurched towards the nurse's station, then, clutching the desk he managed to rasp out an inquiry to where the ICU was. All the nurse could do was stare at him in shock. He realised he had overlooked putting on his mask, his arm was bleeding where he had taken little care removing his drip and the pain in his torso told him there was a distinct possibility the wound on his stomach would re-open. No wonder the woman looked at him in horror. The nurse wasted no time snapping at him to return to his bed, when he all he did was stare blankly; she pursed her lips and called for security. Kakashi slammed his fist down on the desk, demanding an answer, knowing it would not take long for people to arrive who would force him back to his bed, probably drugging him so thoroughly he would not be getting out of bed again for hours. Being in bed was the last thing he wanted, he wanted answers, he wanted Rin, he wanted to be able to stand over her bed, chastise her for being careless, as the relief she was ok washed over him. He wanted to see the flush rise to her cheeks in embarrassment, and watch her stutter an apology. Most of all he wanted to know he had kept his promise to Obito, that he had kept her safe. That though he had not acted quick enough to keep her from harm this time, he would not let her down again, he would never let her get hurt again.

The nurse's words washed over him, but he paid no attention now, he was ready to try and find her room on his own when a tall blonde figure stepped into view behind the older nurse. He sighed when he realized it was Tsunade, who with a few words relieved the nurse of her post and come to stand beside him taking his arm and steadying his weight with a power misleading to her size. Wordlessly she led him through the hospital, almost carrying him when his feet would not hold him. He didn't look at her face; he didn't think he could stand what he would read there. After what seemed like an age she led him through a white door to a private room.

There was one bed, in it laid his teammate, small and pale. The white sheet stained red with her blood. Lifesaving instruments lay on tables around the room, with used gauze and padding. His sensei sat on the side of the bed clutching Rin to his chest. It took Kakashi a moment to realise that Minato was sobbing into Rins' hair. It hit him then that he could not sense her chakra, nor hear her heart beat, and all a sudden his own was beating hard enough in his own chest to burst from his ribcage. No matter how hard it seemed to beat, it couldn't seem to get enough blood to his head, which swam now; the only thing he seemed to be able to focus on was the hospital bed, where his sensei held his last remaining teammate, and his last promise to Obito. His last …only friends.

Tsunade let go of his arm with a sigh, and he stumbled backwards until his back hit the now closed door and as his legs gave out beneath him and he sunk to the ground. Air came harder, his mouth dry, he watched wordlessly as Tsunade placed a hand on Minato's shoulder and gently coaxed Rin from his arms. Minato, seemingly noticing Tsunade's presence for the first time, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, took a deep breath and stood, muttering an apology to Tsunade he went to leave the room. As he did, he squatted next to Kakashi, put a hand on his head levelling him with a look, and then seemingly pulling himself together, and gave him a crooked smile that despite his best effort did not touch his red eyes. Kakashi, unable to look into face of the man he had disappointed yet again, scooted across the floor so his sensei could open the door. Minato left, his foot falls echoing down the hall, slightly too fast, perhaps he too could not wait to escape the confines of the hospital, the memories that seemed to drown them both. No doubt his Sensei would find some comfort in the arms of his very pregnant wife.

Tsunade smoothed some of Rins' hair from her face, then she too turned on her heel and left. She only stopped to give him a look of pity as she closed the door behind her.

He sat there on the floor, the tiled floor cool against his sweaty palms, waiting for his breath to return and forcing himself to show some form of control. It took a while, but his head finally stopped spinning enough for him to pull himself up beside Rin's bed, sitting beside his teammate, but taking great care not to touch her. For a long moment he just stared at his hands, blood had dried under his nails and through the creases on his palms. Finally, tentatively, he reached out and touched her, cringing at the coolness of her skin; he took her hand in his own.

'This wasn't my fault' he informed her, had anyone been there they would have heard his voice hitch 'How is anyone supposed to look after you when you move so slowly?'

He watched her face, waiting, but not stupid enough to hope to get a reaction. Not his fault. Not his-
He shook his head, trying to shake away the thoughts that he knew if he dwelled on would tear him apart. Slowly and carefully he placed Rin's hand back on her stomach. Some people would have said that like this she looked like she was sleeping. Kakashi, had it even occurred to him to, he would not have thought so. How many times had he seen her asleep? On missions, training expeditions, those times when Minato would invite them to eat at his house and they would all talk until Rin would fall asleep and they would have to move her to the couch. Here there was no gentle rise and fall of her chest, no flush to her cheeks, her warm scent was gone, now all she smelt of was blood. The fact was all the things that had made her Rin, were no longer there. Rin was gone, and being with this shallow reminder of her was weakening his composure.

He lowered himself off the bed, bare feet on the vinyl floor. He wrapped his arms around his middle, because the wound to his stomach hurt, not to hold himself together. Taking one last look at his team mate he drank in the way her hair fell about her face, her hands resting gently atop each other, hands that had healed his team's wounds so many times. Having done this he turned his back on her. Turned his back and walked away, walked down white halls, past patients in wheelchair and medics with clipboards, past the nurse, who glared as he walked past, past her station to his room, where he dragged himself into bed, pulled the sheets above his head, and was glad of the bleach to wash the blood away.

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