Deidara dodged the kunai quickly, but not quickly enough. He didn't give the minor scratch any thought until after the battle, when the trees blurred and world tipped beneath his feet. He didn't think it was enough poison to kill him - he was sure it wasn't - but it was enough to make him ill.

Deidara couldn't shake the sensation of spinning, of falling in darkness. He couldn't stand. After the dizziness came the fever, spreading over his skin like fire. Then the pain set in, excruciating and constant, stabbing everywhere at once.

"Sasori..."

He wanted Sasori. Sasori, who knew poison like Deidara knew art, who could mix antidotes better than any medical-nin. Deidara might have annoyed Sasori at times, but he knew his partner wouldn't let him suffer like this. Deidara wanted Sasori like a drowning man wants air.

But Sasori was dead.

"It's okay, Deidara-senpai, I'm here…"

Sasori was dead, and all the help Deidara had was Tobi.

A groan escaped his lips. The fever was unbearable. He knew that he'd been moved, that he was no longer in the forest, but he was aware of little else. His sense of time was distorted. Drums rumbled in the distance. Deep drums, like the ones they used to play at festivals in Iwagakure when he was a boy. An army was marching with the drums, drawing closer by the minute. He knew they were coming for him and at the same time he knew they weren't real at all. He was delirious. His hands gripped the sheets. Sheets. He must be in a bed somewhere. Fingers touched his face, wiped away the tears spilling down his cheeks, swept back his damp hair. There was a voice, a calm and reassuring tone, but he couldn't make out the words.

Blessed coolness touched him, chill as winter air, and he sighed with relief as it slid down face and over his chest. After a moment he identified it as a medical jutsu for treating fever. Hands above him directed it down his body and back up again. Tobi couldn't make an antidote for the poison coursing through Deidara's veins, but he could do this.

They passed the night this way, Deidara slipping in and out of consciousness, Tobi doing what he could to ease his partner's pain, to keep the fever from devouring him whole.

Deidara woke at dawn. He sat up, moving slowly, feeling that the stabbing pain had receded, leaving only soreness in its wake. His fever had broke. Weak rays of sunlight filtered into the room, allowing Deidara to view his surroundings. A simple bed with plain sheets. Faded rice paper screens. A second-rate ukiyo-e reproduction on the wall. An inn. Tobi had managed to haul him to an inn.

Deidara's sweat-soaked shirt hung on the bedpost. He wondered vaguely were his hitai-ate was and then spotted it next to his cloak on the floor. Beside him slept Tobi, a rag doll of black cloth with an orange face. He put a hand to Tobi's chest and felt the candle-flame flicker of his chakra, exhausted from the jutsu he'd used all night.

"Dummy," Deidara whispered. "What'd ya do that for?"

Tobi stirred slightly as Deidara wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in Tobi's shirt.

"Deidara-senpai…?"

"Go back to sleep, yeah," Deidara said.

Tobi's hands moved across his back, holding him cautiously. Deidara pressed closer and felt Tobi relax against him, confident that his touch was welcomed. "I'm sorry I'm not Sasori," he whispered.

"Don't say things like that," Deidara said, sounding more annoyed than he meant to. "You're my partner now. You don't have to be Sasori."

"Oh."

A drowsy, comfortable silence settled in around them. Several moments passed before Deidara spoke again.

"Hey. Tobi."

"Hmmm?"

"Thanks."

"No problem," Tobi said, or at least that's what it sounded like between the yawn and his mask.

Deidara smiled and went back to sleep.