Title: Warmth
Author: AppleL0V3R
Beta-reader: N/A
Fandom: Supernatural and Naruto
Pairing: Sam Winchester and Sakura Haruno
Other Characters: (mentions of) Team Seven (including Sai)
Theme: Thankful (15 Minute Fic Community)
Summary: He looks cold and alone and unhappy, so when she thinks he doesn't notice she walks by and with a brush, sends some warmth through his body. He grabs her wrist before the contact ends.
Word Count: 1,560
Rating: T
Type: One-shot Collection – Complete
Genre: Pre-romance, Hurt Comfort
Warnings: Spoilers (Supernatural: seasons 1-4; Naruto: all of it), character death (mentioned)
Disclaimer: If you've heard of it before, then it's obviously not mine.
Started: N/A
Completed: February 8, 2017
Note: Set right after seasons 3 of Supernatural and canon-divergent post series for Naruto (Sakura is early twenties). Also, I looked up what happened on wiki for Supernatural because the majority of what I remember between seasons 3 and 4 is angstangstangst or something like that. I'm not knocking it, I'm completely caught up on Supernatural, it's just that I didn't start on the show until they were up to like season 7 and therefore I did a lot of bingeing and yeah, angst is the general impression that comes of there. So I thought I would compound it with killing of some of favorite Naruto characters off screen. Enjoy.
Shouldering her favorite beige bag, Sakura grabbed her grocery bags which were not as full as they once were or even stuffed with the same items since the food she'd grown up on wasn't anything like what was here unless she went out of her way to find it. And it was such a trivial matter that it wasn't worth the extra time or money it would take to find her favorite household foods. That and most of them needed home cooking and with the odd jobs that she was taking on to stay afloat economically in this new country she didn't really have the time for that either, not unless she wanted to make time for it.
And she had more important matters to prioritize.
Like finding her long lost teammate. Like getting her feet under her. Like dealing with fallout of Danzo overtaking Konoha.
Food really was the least of her worries. Or at least what kind of food she got her hands on was.
She had read in a brochure that the city she was for her current odd job carried the moniker of Windy City, and she thought that was only half apropos. It had been windy ever since she had gotten here, but more than that it had been cold. The dark covering it in a way that made some parts of it seem ominous and that felt old and worn by daylight. A solid week had already passed since she caught a bus into town and she knew she had to hustle on getting the job done or she would not be able to continue paying for the roach motel she was currently situated in.
For the most part, she had gotten used to living this way, despite the disparity of her living situation in her teens and now. She'd had years to acclimate after all. Years to shake of yearning for what would never be anymore. Years of missing her lost loved ones. So many times she'd wished for Naruto's brilliant smile, Kakashi's idle comments or Sai's inappropriate observations. She supposed it would have to be enough to remember them.
And find Sasuke. Last she had seen, Madara had gotten ahold of Sasuke's broken, comatose body and moved him. She'd been able to track those systematic moves not just to the United States of America—and really, could he have moved Sasuke any farther?—but info put him in the vicinity of Illinois. And while she would be the first to admit that even the smallest of the fifty states was a lot of land to cover, but she had no way of narrowing it down further without being in state and the only job she had been able to pick up on short notice was the one she currently worked.
Lost in thought, she barely noticed the state of the dilapidated buildings as she passed them. She also paid little mind to the picture she presented—a young twenty-something, small-built woman with newly bought groceries and no visible form of defense. Her first job had taken her to the seeder side of city in Florida, and she had learned right quick that people here took her at face value. Tiny, defenseless looking chick? Easy target. Now she only paid heed to how she came off when it was in the name of a paycheck. And if someone decided to take advantage? Well, she would welcome the chance to get some exercise in for the day. Unless they had a gun, then she might just break a sweat.
The week had afforded her ample chances to map out this part of the city, so when she came to an alleyway she took it, knowing it was a shortcut to the motel. She needed to drop of the food, grab a quick bite, and get to work.
However, as she entered the alleyway, she noticed the big guy at the other end of it. Easily as big, if not bigger, than Hoshigaki Kisame and not exactly on the lanky side, his very stature warranted a little more attention than she would have if he had been smaller and looked less threatening. She knew that judging on sight was hardly fair, especially when she knew how she got treated for it, but experience had taught her that gentle giants rarely hung out in back alleys on the wrong side of the tracks. She doubted he would give her any trouble, but it did not pay to underestimate other people. She would know.
But even from her distance and in the fading light of day she could see that he looked cold. Cold and unhappy and all alone. With the brittle wind and unforgiving low temps of the Chicago's dry climate, she only managed to fight off the worst of the chill via a nice winter jacket and her ability to manipulate her body temperature. But the look on his face. The desolation exuded in his stance—drawn in tight, collapsed on himself, huddling in his clothes for more than warmth. It called to her tender heart, and no amount of telling herself that his pain was not her problem she could not help herself.
Without altering her pace, and certain he was not paying her a whole lot of mind, she casually brushed by him, using her chakra to inject a wave of warmth into his body. Not an unnatural amount, or anything like a burst of air that a vent might offer, but enough to be the exact opposite of a cold spot. People got sudden chills in all types of environments for all types of reasons. It stood to reason that a flash of warmth would be perceived much the was of course, just her luck that he would react instantly. His hand snapping out to grab her wrist before she even got the chance to end the contact.
That would teach her, she thought as she turned back to him. Next time she would remember that not everyone was run of the mill. Next time she would remember that just because she was different did not mean that other people could not be. Next time she would remember her damn training and not be so damn confident that she might out herself as different.
But even as she met his eyes, hazel-brown and breathtakingly intense, drilled into hers. After a beat of silence where he seemed to size her up, assess her, he finally asked with a quiet, roughened voice, "What are you? What do you want?"
So thrown by the first question, she barely heard the second. Sakura let the silence stretch between them as she analyzed him in turn, weighing her responses. Ultimately she settled on the simplest of answers: "Human, what else would I be? And for the record, I don't want trouble, and I don't mean any harm. So if you'd let go of my wrist…?"
As if burned at the sudden realization that he was, indeed, still manacling her wrist in a vice grip, he yanked his hand back and edged backward—as if he could no longer endure the proximity either. Deliberately looking away from her, an action that had her frowning and feeling a little stung, he motioned towards the opening of the alley. "Fine. Whatever. Sorry for stopping you."
Left with the sense that she had done more harm than good she considered the merits of staying. They did not stack up in favor. But at the same time, she still felt the itch to help, the need to reach out and soothe whatever hurt he was experiencing. It was not physical, he did not move like someone with a debilitating injury.
Yet the way he still held himself, so tightly drawn like if he did not hold onto himself tightly enough he would fall apart, kept her immobile and enthralled.
Logically, she should have learned her lesson with Sasuke. But here she was, tempted and hard pressed to resist—and oh hey, wasn't she in this city for Sasuke in the first place? Still watching him with quiet green eyes, she took a careful step back so he would not feel so crowded, she took a breath and hoped she was not making the wrong choice by not moving on as he and logic had bid. "You looked like you could use a little warmth in this bitter cold. I'm sorry if I over stepped or something, I really did just want to help."
Slowly, he turned back to her, those pretty eyes of his piercing her, like if he stared hard enough he could see into her soul and discern the truth. She could have told him that was hardly a difficult task, what with her propensity to wear her heart on her sleeve. Minutes ticked by while she waited for him to decide.
It was a while, long enough to wonder if her dairy products were in danger of beginning to spoil, before he seemed to come to a conclusion. With guarded movements, he held his hand out between them, "Thanks, I'm Sam, by the way."
Masking a relieved breath she gifted him with an accepting smile and clasped her hand his—comparatively small but fitting so well in his bigger, warm palm. "I'm Sakura, pleased to make you're acquaintance."