A/N: Oh man I need to update some of my other stuff soon, don't I? Ah, well, here's more of this, though.

Day 1:

She didn't know how she slept so well the previous night. The morning came slowly, it seemed, and she wondered how long the night was for Nagato if she felt that way while managing to sleep.

It was not a pretty sight that she woke up to.

She almost screamed, but years of being taught not to stopped her, so she covered her mouth and barely a sound made its way out. She did not linger long, and instead knelt beside his bed. As much as she wanted to get help, she knew that doing so before she knew his thoughts would only serve to make things worse.

She pushed the hair from his face and saw the way he was staring into nothing with dilated eyes that did not move to meet hers. She could not see the rest of his face, as it was covered behind the thick pillow he was clutching so tightly to support himself. It was stained red with his blood, as were his hands and the sheets beneath him.

She reached so slowly for the blanket that covered the rest of his mangled body, and pushed them away. It was there that she found the source of the blood. She took a long look at his legs, where the bandages had been torn away, leaving the burned flesh exposed and oozing, and she wondered how long he had been like this. At that moment, she knew that his thoughts didn't matter to her as much as his health did. She left to get help, and once she did she was once again banned from his room until they finished with him.

Waiting became too stressful, and she washed herself to pass the time, knowing that she would have to bathe eventually, anyway. Once again the water pounding against her cleared her thoughts, and let grief flood her until she cried. She lost track of time and remained there until the water ran cold before recomposing herself. She came out to find that her clothes had been washed and left on the sink. She was happy she could wear her own clothes again.

By the time she made her way back to Nagato's room, all but a quiet nurse had left him alone again. She smiled at the woman out of reflex, but the woman only stared back at her with intense sorrow before leaving without so much as a goodbye.

When she looked back at Nagato, she saw that they had been considerate enough to bring her a small cot so she could lie down when she wanted to. It was just a few feet from Nagato's bed, but she pushed it closer anyway until there was no space between them. She crawled onto it and came close to him to examine what they had done, and she saw that they had changed the bandages on his legs, and changed the sheets. Everything was clean and white, except for him, and she wondered if they were afraid to try and touch him more than they had to.

She looked him in the eye a when she was done, and this time he looked back, however slowly. His eyes were heavy and so was everything else. She thought they drugged him, and she was thankful for that. She asked him if he needed anything, but his only answer was an ambiguous grunt. She didn't know what to make of that, and hoped his answer was 'no', because she didn't know what she could do for him, anyway. The only thing she could think of was to help him sleep.

She put her hands on his face and led him down until he was spread across both of their beds on his side, finally lying down for the first time since they had come home. He groaned from the stress of changing positions, but didn't complain. She pulled the blanket up over him; careful to pull it just far enough so it wouldn't touch his back. She sat on the corner of the bed, and ran her hands through his hair. It was knotted and filthy, but she could do nothing about it for the moment. He tried to say something to her, but he was so far gone that the words never quite formed, and his message was lost to her. She waited for him to try again, but he never did.

After staring at a blank wall for barely a minute, she realized again that she was tired, despite having just gotten up. Curling up on what little space was left on the two beds, she faced him and for a moment they just stared at each other, speechless. She knew he wouldn't be awake for long with the drugs that were obviously influencing him, and she was right. She followed him soon after.

"You have to eat something."

That was the third time she had told him that in the span of an hour. He wasn't all there, but whatever they had given him had worn off considerably, and he was capable of thinking again. Again, he gave her the same answer.

"I'm not hungry."

She couldn't understand how that was possible. She had three meals by then, and he had eaten nothing but the medicine they forced into him. Ever since he had grown into his teens, he had eaten a lot, as did Yahiko. Both of them would finish their food before she had even made a dent, and then they would both sit quietly and wait for her to eat what she could. She rarely finished her whole plate. When she was done, she'd push it away from her, and the two of them would eat what she couldn't in a matter of minutes. Even after that, they could eat more if there was any left, though there hardly ever was.

And now, here he was with a full plate sitting in front of him, completely untouched.

"Please?"

It seemed silly to say that. After a few more long minutes of both of them staring at a plate that would only grow colder, she tried to force feed him. Before she could get too close, he grabbed her arm and gave her a look that signaled that she was doing something unacceptable. He would not be humiliated like that.

But, he must have realized how much it bothered her, because he finally listened. After she went back to her seat, he did eat, though it wasn't much. What he didn't finish, she tried to eat. Most of it ended up going to waste.

It got dark faster than usual that night. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the better part of the day, because no matter how much he slept, he was never rested. They had given him another dose at some point, though she wasn't sure how long ago it was. All she knew was that he was calm, but his mind was no longer numb. She didn't realize how fast the rest would fade from his system. She didn't realize how quickly he'd lose his mind again in the pitch black room, with nothing but silence surrounding them.

"You must hate me."

He sounded so calm when he said it. As if it wasn't a concern.

"I couldn't hate you."

"Yahiko meant more to you than I ever did."

"No."

She told him that he was wrong, but she could shake the feeling that what he said was the truth.

"I should have died."

She didn't reply to that, because just a tiny part of her wished it were true, even though she pretended to ignore that nagging suggestion in the back of her mind. She only moved closer to him until she could touch his arm so he didn't feel quite so alone. He grabbed her sleeve with all the force he could, but she pulled her arm away for just a second before she pulled herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, so careful not to brush the rods. She held on to him as tight as she could without hurting him, and she felt him start to shake.

It hurt when he pushed her off. He put his hand on her stomach and forced her away until she wasn't touching him anymore, but his hand suddenly gripped her shirt again and he drew closer until he collapsed onto her. Curled almost into a fetal position, but he wasn't quite capable of that, he rested on her chest and both of his hands tangled into the fabric of her clothes until she couldn't get away if she wanted to.

"Don't leave me."

She never would, but no matter how many times she told him that he wouldn't believe her, and he'd just repeat it again until he was begging her not to leave, clinging to her so tightly as if she'd slip away like Yahiko did. She was begging him to listen to her and understand that she wasn't going to abandon him, but neither of them ever got through to the other, and they just repeated themselves until the darkness finally seemed to overcome him and he finally lost himself to sleep.

He slept that night.

She did not.