I'd say all the words that I know

Just to see if it would show

That I'm trying to let you know

The white walls offered no comfort to her as she walked through the barren halls of the facility. The air seemed to be stale as the scent of blood echoed upon the tiles with each step she took. The glass windows shook with the winds' howling moans of protest as tree branches scraped the outside walls to be let in from the cold. Hugging her arms around her small frame, and shivering for only a second, she made her way down the corridor with as much grace as a mink being chased by a furrier. Jingling her keys into the stubborn lock, she swung open the pale green door and shut it with force once she was inside. Desperately trying to find the light switch, her eyes closed with her sigh of relief as the florescent bulbs above glowed with elaborate brilliance.

She questioned herself repetitively as to why she took the night shift with such gusto. Was she trying to prove her worthiness to Tsunade who was already proud to call her an apprentice? Groaning and burying her face in her calloused hands, she sank into her chair in one fluid motion. Her pink locks seemed heavy on her head and she briefly wondered when she took a shower last. Her shishou had not let up with training and medic work so the roseate-haired young woman often found herself using her textbook as a pillow when she woke up at the crack of dawn.

Rubbing her bare arms absentmindedly, Sakura tried not to peer at the clock behind her. She already knew that there were two more hours to go being in a dark hospital, practically alone in the wing besides that creepy janitor on floor five. Sakura shook her head and tried to think of something lighter toned than a balding old man with a roaming lazy eye.

Naruto and her were supposed to meet up with Sai and Sasuke for some late dinner tonight at Sasuke's mansion (grudgingly on the aforementioned broody Uchiha, but he was the one with the shortest straw) but she had to cancel due to her enthusiastic volunteer for the shift. Sakura almost banged her head on the table. Why oh why did she think that sitting at a desk, waiting for some half dead people to stagger in for her services, would be more amusing and lighthearted than an evening trying to get Sasuke to explain to Sai what tampons were? There was the money factor since rent and food were becoming an increasing issue... But that's what late nights at Uchiha mansions were for! Food and a couch (or a lavish bed with silk quilts) to crash on.

Digging her chewed nails into her scalp, Sakura cursed and berated herself for her never ending need to be a kiss-ass.

Daring to look up at the clock, Sakura embraced herself for a staggering blow to her sanity.

11:34

56 more minutes of being tortured by convincing shadows, perverted janitors and the rhythmic ticking of the red-rimmed clock to go. Seeing that there was no paperwork to be done (her kiss-ass self did them yesterday and handed them in early) and no medical files to be read (why wait?), Sakura entertained herself with doodling on a piece of daisy-trimmed paper.

With 30 minutes to go and counting, Sakura heard her colleagues downstairs start to scamper about as she was making finishing touches to Sai's delectable abs. Raising a pink, plucked eyebrow to the abrupt chaos, Sakura bravely ventured over to the door. Before she could even lay her hand on the rusting knob, the door flew open so spasmodically that she had to jump back to not get smacked in the face from it.

A pale faced intern met her curious stare with wide blue eyes and a trembling lip. Her medic smock was already dotted with blood.

"G-gomen, Sakura-sama, but there's an emergency in wing four!"

Sakura nodded and followed the young intern down the not-so-scary corridor. Her adrenaline was pumping with a renewed gusto as her mind was racing over the procedure on how to subdue a horrific patient. Her pink hair whipped wildly around her as she made a sharp turn to the right, still following the intern, and flew past the janitor in all his lazy-eye glory.

Kicking into head-medic-mode, Sakura questioned her intern in a monotonous voice, "What is the situation? Are you in need of blood transfusions?"

The young medic in front of her quavered out, "A shinobi returned from an S-class mission. Height - 181 cm; Weight - 67.5 kg. I've been told that there is throat lacerations, a few broken ribs, dislocated shoulder and a shattered collarbone. Blood transfusions are evident, Sakura-sama."

Sakura only nodded and didn't reprimand her on the honorific. Different scenarios played throughout her mind as wing four drew closer. Once she was inside that door, rule twenty-five would reel its ugly head as Sakura would only be focused on the battered body, not the person. She had learned the hard way to not be emotional in surgery. It clouded your mind.

The intern stopped at a corridor and nodded to Sakura, "It's the third door on the left."

Sakura ran to the door and shouted, "Get the IV backups!"

Bursting into the small room, Sakura was met with chaos. Everything seemed to become blurry as her mouth shouted out orders on instinct while her hands magically knew what tools to grab. Never looking at her patient's face, Sakura ribbed open his vest and then his tight-fitted black shirt. Repulsive blue, black and yellow bruises as well as new gashes met her trained medical eye. Gathering chakra into her palms, she focused on mending three broken ribs and not the bedlam around her.

"Condition isn't stable!"

"Blood transfusions pronto! Type O!"

"Heart rate speeding up..."

"Vocal folds lacerated! Someone do something!"

Sakura closed her eyes and refrained from telling her fellow medic-nins to shut the hell up. Grabbing the nearest one, Sakura told her without missing a beat to work on the dislocated shoulder and collarbone as she tried to sew together the man's vocal folds.

From seeing the mangled and shredded tissue near the man's trachea, Sakura forced down the bile that eagerly rose to her throat. It was a wonder this shinobi was still breathing, let alone made it to the hospital doors. Sakura could only partly hear her ragged breaths as her chakra started to steadily deplete from the tedious and strategic work on the shinobi's throat.

"Blood pressure is skyrocketing!"

"Type O transfusions are running low."

"Breathing is erratic.."

"Heart rate plummeting!"

Dammit...

Sakura, in a heat a fury, slammed both her chakra manipulated hands down upon the man's chest in a valiant attempt to revive his heart. She wasn't about to lose her first patient of the night. What of her reputation? Sakura resumed her work on the throat until she sewed up the last of the folds and grafted the skin to cover up the handy work. Glancing over to the monitors, she almost moaned when his vitals seemed to still be unstable after transfusions, healing and chest-slamming...

"Get an oxygen mask!"

Snatching the plastic from an unknown medic's hands, Sakura was about to place it on the shinobi's face when she was met with a navy mask instead of a nose and a mouth. She could feel her heart shrivel up into a small raisin as her stomach forced its way to her throat. No, no, no...

The mask, the jounin vest and the familiar height and weight measurements...

Dammit, it can't be. He'd never get so...mutilated!

Letting her eyes travel up his masked face, Sakura's breath hitched as she saw a scarred left eye and silver hair plastered against his forehead in a spat of blood. He looked so fragile, so in pain, so weak... This person, this..thing couldn't be her sensei. No, it couldn't be Hatake Kakashi...

"Sakura-sama! Sakura-sama put the oxygen mask on quickly! We don't have much time!"

She could only stare at Kakashi's strained face, his eyes squeezed shut in agony, the quick way his chest moved up and down from his ragged breaths. Sort of like her own right now. She couldn't be responsible for his life. What if..what if she failed? As Sakura gazed in horror at the blood staining Kakashi's skin, she did something that she never did in her whole medic career.

She froze up.

"Sakura-sama! These seconds are precious!"

"We're going to lose him!"

Sakura was only briefly aware at how her hands were shaking uncontrollably, causing the mask to fall upon her sensei's newly mended chest. His eyes shot open at that moment, scaring the living shit out of her and her colleagues. The way they were filled with so much pain, the way he seemed to be gasping like he couldn't get enough air...it scared her. It woke her up.

Rule number 25, rule number 25...

Tearing off the blue material from Kakashi's face, Sakura pressed the oxygen mask over the exposed skin. The blurry plastic distorted the lower part of his face from view. Sakura kept the mask steady as she stared at the IV dripping fluids into his system and then to the bag filled with blood oozing its way into his depleted bloodstream. Slowly, ever so agonizingly slowly, the shouts and cries softened to a mutual murmur...

"Vital signs beginning to stabilize..."

"Transfusions effective."

Sakura, breathing heavily, looked upon her sensei's face to see that his mismatched eyes had closed but there was still that worry line in his forehead, the strain in his jaw and the grit of his teeth. Sakura shook her head in apology as she calmly ordered, "Sedate him."

She let herself be whisked away while the called-upon anesthesiologists did their bidding. This would help the pain, she silently explained to her sensei who obediently relaxed his muscles while the anesthetic flowed into him and carried him off to a lullaby. Sakura didn't notice that she had slumped onto the wall across from her patient as she continued to watch the pain be masked by sedatives. Maybe she would take some of those after this.

As the chaotic tilt of the world steadied itself once again, the medic-nins filed out one by one as some wheeled Kakashi away in a gurney to a recuperating room. There he would be monitored all night to see if everyone's efforts did their justice, to see if Sakura passed this unruly test in her young life. She would watch over him tonight. He was her responsibility. After all these years, the roles would be switched tonight. Hopefully only tonight if all bodes well.

"Are you sure, Sakura-sama? You don't look well. Maybe you should go home and rest."

Sakura fluffed Kakashi's pillow and checked his IV, "I can rest here." She turned to her intern and she quickly bowed and left Sakura's presence. Sakura sighed as she flopped into the chair next to Kakashi's bed. She'd be trusted to watch him alone tonight. Sakura rubbed her temples and looked over at the room's black-trimmed clock.

12:55

Suppressing a groan (her shift had officially ended 55 minutes ago. The one time Kakashi wasn't late...), Sakura turned to her accomplice.

The anesthesiologists assured her that his vitals were now perfectly stable, albeit a small concussion, and the sedatives would keep him conked out in "la la land" until tomorrow afternoon most likely. Despite all of this, Sakura couldn't help but furrow her brows in worry and kept glancing over to the heart monitor, making sure no beats were kept out of its repetitive symphony.

Sakura dared herself to peer over at her sensei's face. The oxygen mask was still in place (after her numerous barks to not touch it) and the lower half of his never-been-seen face was still hidden from her view. How her fingers itched to peek at the wonders that continuously lay under that damned fabric... Sakura stopped herself from cackling evilly (and being sent to the psychiatric ward...) and settled for a sigh instead.

What had happened to him? How could the infamous sharingan wielder be so broken and bloody? Sakura reached out to remove his crimson tipped hair out of his eyes and briefly marveled at its softness despite its unruly appearance. Dozens of scratches etched themselves in a zigzagged pattern across the upper part of Kakashi's face and Sakura could not halt the whimper that escaped her throat's chamber. Her eyes trailed down to his blue hands that were limp at his sides. One or two nails had been ripped clean off and Sakura could see the beginnings of puss oozing out of the wounds. Scampering over to a medicine cabinet, the roseate-haired medic pumped disinfectant into her small hands and rubbed Kakashi's sores gently.

Settling back down in her cushioned chair, Sakura wrung her own hands nervously in her lap. Did she miss any steps on the healing process? Was she sure that the blood in the bags above Kakashi's head were Type O? Sakura dug her bloody fingernails in her scalp once more, frustration getting the best of her. Taking five tranquil breaths (like her anger management therapist told her to), Sakura slumped her shoulders and continued to stare at Kakashi. His chest was moving up and down smoothly, so unlike his quavering gasps minutes before.

A few minutes passed (16 to be exact), and Sakura could feel the early phases of boredom (or was it sleep?) enter her senses. Trying to keep herself occupied/awake, the medic-nin started to think about what her friends would say about this predicament. Surely, Naruto would scream and holler at Sakura to tell him more and would proceed to drag her to Kakashi's room, Sasuke's eyes would widen a bit and Sai would probably blink at her. He isn't really one for emotional situations...

Sakura's eyes widened as she realized something of great importance. Snapping her head towards her conked out sensei, Sakura sighed that no one else was in the room to hear her latest philosophical question.

Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly at her pathetic audience, Sakura faced Kakashi with her hands gripping the bed rails, "Ne, Kaka-sensei... Who do you think would win in a fight? Sai's abs or Sasuke's hair?"

Receiving no answer except silence from her all-nighter buddy, Sakura leaned back into her chair and crossed her arms. Tapping her index finger to her lip in thought, Sakura voiced her opinion, "Well, there would have to be some limits. Like no hair gel and no wife-beaters... Mm, this is a hard one..."

Pouting at her latest predicament, Sakura huffed and stored the question in the back of her mind to pull out again when the four of them were together at Sasuke's...and Kakashi wasn't laying in a hospital (of all places) in an artificial comatose...

Her light humor was short lived as reality came crashing down upon her.

Maybe I should get him another blanket... Or some painkillers when the sedative wears off.

Stretching before she got out of her seat, Sakura went into the supply closet and retrieved two blue blankets – one for him and one for her. Dumping one bundle on her chair, Sakura proceeded to splay the other cerulean blanket upon Kakashi's still form. Tucking the fuzzy warmth up to his chin, Sakura giggled before returning to her chair and wrapping her blanket around herself.

"Just like a sleep over, ne Kakashi-sensei?"

Sakura allowed herself a smile and one more look at his monitors. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, his heart rate was mostly back to normal (sedatives could make it slow a fraction) and his blood pressure was at normal levels. It was almost too good to be true. Surely there had to be something else to check...something else to fix, to mend... After that horrific episode, it couldn't be all smooth sailing, right? Sakura pulled the blanket tighter around herself as she tried to will away the suspicion of false positives...

Sakura took five more tranquil breaths. There was nothing else she could do. She followed all the procedures to a T (hell, maybe repeated them a couple of times) and checked all the monitors signals to ensure their accuracy. All she could do was wait and give Kakashi a new bag of IV and re-heal his real worse-for-wear wounds in an hour.

Sakura set her watch to go off at that hour and tried to warm her trembling body. Peering over at her patient once again, she noticed a pale hand hanging out from under the sea of blue. A small smile grazed Sakura's lips as she took Kakashi's limp hand and encased it in her own. His touch was ice while hers was warm and soft. Sakura gently applied pressure to warm up his blood circulation and to reassure her sensei.

Rubbing her thumb back and forth across the back of Kakashi's hand, she whispered softly, "If it makes you feel better, I think your hair is a worthy opponent against Sai and Sasuke."

Sakura imagined the happy eye-crease and hair-ruffle she would receive from that comment any other day. She didn't like how lifeless Kakashi seemed to be and wondered if he could even hear her more than interesting thoughts she'd spoken aloud.

The silence that lulled upon the two occupants was staggering. All that was to be heard was the wind scraping against the walls, still trying to get in, and if she listened very closely, the squeaky wheels of the pervert janitor down the hall. Sakura shivered as she looked around the whitewashed room. Everything was too still. Her sensei was too pale. Her hair was too greasy...

Calm down, Sakura. It's just the dark that's messing with your mind. Sensei's fine for now and he'll probably stay that way. You know what a stubborn old man he is.

But as she looked around the room once more and then to her sensei's frail hand in hers, she was all but comforted.

With an umpteenth sigh, and with nothing better to do for a half an hour, Sakura took out her daisy-trimmed paper and started on a new doodle.

A scarecrow with gravity-defying hair.

She named it Ukki.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N: Whelp, this is my new story. And yes I said story, not oneshot. Ms. Oneshot Queen over here has missed the joys of multi-chapter-ness. Sorry that this first chapter's pretty short (most first chapters are) and if you have any questions about medical terms, just say the word and I'll explain it to you. Although, I don't think there's any in this first chap that's too much of a head-scratcher, but later on there may be.

Now let's watch and see if I can incorporate drama and humor at the same time. shit hits fan