I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack (independence day much?) I know that I took forever, but I really planned to update last week but as all of you must know, ffnet was acting weird, I've been really busy with exams and stuff, I tried to do my best with this chapter, shorter than usual, but hopefully intense enough to make up for length, or lack thereof.
Enjoy!
How many times had she found herself in the same situation? Same OR, same scrubs, blue in some places and red in others, too much red, gloves covered in sticky, warm liquid, warm blood that belonged to some broken body, lying helplessly on her OR table, unconsciously imploring her to restore some semblance of life into it? Too many times, so many times that lulled her into a false sense of security, believing that she had grown immune to the tragic scene.
The first time that she had stood in an operation room, scalpel in her hand, not in the hands of another, more experienced surgeon, her fingers clutching the cold metal, cold even through the thin layer of her latex gloves, her hand preparing to dig into some poor soul's body, she barely remembered it, her mentor said that she had showed tremendous control, that her composure was almost inhumane. For a doctor, that was the highest compliment that one could receive, inhumanity when facing death, when trying to cheat death.
She had overseen many procedures, easy ones, difficult ones, some that broke her hear, she had, more than once, emptied the meager contents of her stomach in the nearest trash bin the second she stepped out of an OR.
But she had never cried, not once. Her hand never wavered.
Standing, this time, over the broken body of her own husband, tears blurred her vision, she could barely close her fingers around the scalpel, the latex material of her other hand, poised over the broken skin of her husband's chest was quickly turning red, dark red, the warmth felt wrong, she blinked rapidly, clearing her vision, her mask was soaked, and more tears welled up in her eyes at the sight of Sasuke's usually pale skin, even paler now, contrasting with the dark crimson.
"Dr. Uchiha?" A fresh intern, one that she'd scrubbed in with before, had the courage to call her name. "Perhaps you should step out, we don't have time to waste."
She whipped her head to glance at the monitors, her husband's vitals were messed up, but not borderline. "No." She growled, voice thick with grief. "There's no one else. Suction!" She barked, the nurse quickly complied, the blood traveled up the plastic tube, and Sakura tightened her grip around the scalpel, and her nerves as well.
Breathing in through her noise, she made the incision.
Years from now, Sakura wanted to tell her kids that she had touched their father's heart, quite literally, that she had wrapped her right hand around the muscle, trying to massage some life back into it, that she had prayed that he'd survive the operation to have children, it was ridiculous, the thoughts that went through your head when faced with the probable reality of losing the one person that you loved more than yourself, as the machines beeped into a maddening frenzy around her, all she could think about, as she methodically massaged his heart, was the ridiculous conversation, or argument, that they had weeks ago, about not wanting to have children, how it would ruin her life, she could think of a few more life ruining things, losing her husband was one of them.
"We're losing him." Someone to her left shouted.
"I know!" She shouted back. "Give me the Epi."
The thin injection was handed to her before she even finished the sentence, she pushed the needle directly into his heart and administered the hormone, her other hand continued the massage, her eyes itched and prickled, she had cried more during this operation that she had in her entire life.
"Please, Sasuke." She begged some. "Please, baby, come back, please." Then yelled some.
"Where is this blood coming from?" She cried, at no one in particular, when blood filled the thoracic cavity for the umpteenth time. "Suction!"
The frenzy around her stopped, and her knees buckled at the sound of the steady, rhythmic beeping.
"BP's rising."
"Give me two more bags of AB negative. Cauterizer."
"Get out of this OR, this second."
Sakura had never been more relieved to hear the sound of her mentor, she had confidence in her own skills, she was good, but she wasn't good enough to watch her husband bleed to death, she handed the tools to the nearest nurse the second that Tsunade came into her view and ran out of the OR.
Her fingers shaking, she tugged her gloves off, then her mask and chugged them at the nearest trash bin, she walked by the bin, then turned on her heels and bent at the waist, emptying the meager contents of her stomach, feeling dizzy, she gagged again, stomach acid scorching up her throat, until nothing came out.
She stood and exited the operation area, directly into the waiting area, instead of the back exit, because she was a surgeon, and that's where surgeons exit, to give the family the news, bad or good, well, she was the family, and she didn't know what she was supposed to tell herself.
"Sakura!"
Her head snapped up, and her eyes widened when she spotted Uchiha Mikoto, looking uncharacteristically frazzled, wearing jeans and a sweater instead of the usual, elegant, cost-more-than-your-kidneys dresses, next to her stood Fugaku Uchiha, stoic as ever, but worried, concerned, he suddenly looked beyond his years.
"How-" Mikoto swallowed, seemingly unable to push the words past her life. "H-how is my baby?"
Buried six feet under the suffocating weight of her own grief, Sakura could not bring herself to comfort the woman, as she had done a thousand times, to a thousand different people, she could not bring herself to speak the soothing words that would convince the family that their father, husband, son, friend, lover, or even coworker was going to be okay.
Instead, her knees buckled, and she collapsed to her knees, her hands lay limp at her sides, and she stared past her in-laws. Mikoto gasped, and her hand covered her mouth, fresh tears spilled. Fugaku turned positively grey.
They thought that he had died.
"He's not dead, he's not dead, he's not dead." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded off, broken, weak. Instead of reassuring them, she spoke the words to reassure herself. "I fixed him, I fixed him, but there's so much blood."
Mikoto, seemingly realizing that she could not turn to Sakura for reassurances, as she herself was in need of some, sunk to her knees and wrapped her arms around the rosette, still clad in the bloodstained surgery gown, she gently guided Sakura's head into the crook of her neck, and smoothed her hair as her daughter-in-law dissolved into heart-wrenching sobs.
A while later, could be minutes, could be hours, Tsunade immerged out of the operation room, Sakura scrambled out of Mikoto's arms, barely managed to stand on her own two feet.
"Shishou."
The blonde was obviously uncomfortable, that was understandable, as a chief of surgery, with years of active duty under her belt, she probably hadn't had to be the one to deliver the news to the family in years. She pulled the blue cap off her head.
"He's going to be alright."
Sakura barely managed to process the words before Mikoto engulfed her in a rib cracking hug, discarding all things elegant and proper, clearly, her relief overpowering the years of self-imposed perfection. Fugaku cleared his throat, unlike his wife, he seemed to refuse to crack, or step off of his pedestal in even the direst situations.
Even Tsunade, paragon of perfect composure and impeccable self-control, could not resist the tug at the corner of her lips, when Sakura broke out of the hug to speak to her; she coached her features into the sternest, most reprimanding expression that she could manage. "You had no right to be in that OR."
Sakura knew that. She told her that. "I know."
"You'll probably be in deep shit with board for it." That's Tsunade for you, you could count on her to speak her mind, in whatever language that she saw fit, screw propriety, screw professionalism.
"I know." She repeated.
"You should have paged the trauma surgeon."
"I know, but th-"
Tsunade held her hand up for silence. "But, by the time he would have gotten there, assessed the situation and then scrubbed in, your husband would have died, I know." Her full lips spread into a triumphant smirk. "You saved your husband's life; you can tell him that the next time he refuses to take the trash out."
Sakura returned her mentor's smile with a watery one of her own, and nodded. "I will."
"When can we see him?"
It was the first time that Sakura took note of the final occupant of the waiting area, standing by the chair that Fugaku had sunk in a few moments ago, the blond in the dark blue police uniform. Her eyes widened. "Naruto?"
The blond gave her his trademark Cheshire grin, and rubbed the back of his head, making a mess of his already unkempt golden hair. "Finally noticed me, eh, Sakura-chan?"
"I'd rather you stay away from him, idiot. We just got the man back, no need to hurl you at him."
Sakura glanced between the two. "You know each other?"
"Unfortunately." Tsunade muttered.
"Don't be like that, ba-chan, you know you love me, Sasuke loves me too, he'll want to see me, and we're practically brothers."
Sakura gasped. "I cannot believe that I forgot." She turned to address Naruto. "Itachi, how is he?"
"Itachi?" The word came in three different voices, and expressed with equally different emotions as well, one came with concern, the other bewilderment, and the third with an odd mix between surprise and anger.
She chose to go with Naruto and his bewilderment. "Itachi was with him, they were driving down from Ame, is there someone that you could ask about him?"
Naruto furrowed his eyebrows and titled his head to the side in that oddly adorable way of his. "Sakura, I was the first at the scene. There was just Sasuke."
Itachi opened his eyes just as the first droplet of icy cold water hit his face, he blinked, craned his neck to look around, and groaned at the stiffness, it was dark, very dark, he could barely make out his surroundings, he fisted his hand and felt dirt. Bewildered, he sat up, pain travelled up the arm that he had used to push himself upwards, but he ignored it, only to discover that he was lying on forest ground.
It all came back to him then.
Sasuke, finally conceding to handing him the wheel after driving seven hours straight, he had tried to resist sleep, but couldn't, Itachi had tried to resist temptation, but couldn't. The second that Sasuke's breathing pattern evened out, signaling that he was in deep slumber, he caved.
One last time, he had told himself, and then no more, just one for the road. Sasuke would never know.
He could barely remember what happened next, the blurry road, driving too fast, missing the bend.
And then the blood, Sasuke's blood, there was so much of it, he was barely breathing, the shallow intakes of air not quite sufficient to raise and drop his broken chest.
Itachi pushed himself off the ground and ran the trail that he hoped was the one that brought him there back. His body was sore, his legs hurt, but he still ran. The road came into view and he doubled his speed. He skidded to a halt as he spotted the black sleek rental car.
He almost sank to his knees, not with exhaustion, or even pain, but heart-wrenching horror, for the first time since the accident, he took in the scene that his weakness had orchestrated, the front of the car was almost wrapped around the tree that had stopped the car from falling off the edge of the road, glass covered the area surrounding it, Sasuke's side of the car was almost completely destroyed, it was a wonder that he wasn't pulverized with the rest of the car.
Someone in a uniform that he couldn't identify came towards him. "Sir, are you alright? You're bleeding!"
Itachi shrugged his arm off of his shoulder and took two steps forward. "Sasuke," He croaked. "They guy that was in the car, where is he?"
"Sir, were you in the accident?"
Furious, he turned towards the man, fisting the material of his stiff jacket. " .he?"
"T-the hospital, they took him a while ago."
"Take me to him!"
Sakura stared, bewildered, at Naruto, the blonde seemed certain, and he stared at her as if she had grown another head. "No. They drove together from Ame, did you check the premises?"
Naruto's eyes narrowed in affront. "Of course, I did, I'm not a rookie, you know, besides, someone would have called if they'd found anyone else."
Tsundade tsked. "I'll check the ER for any new arrivals."
"I'm telling you, there was only Sasuke in the ca-" Naruto paused, eyes wide, then swallowed. He dragged his hand through his hair then cursed under his breath.
"What is it?" It was Mikoto who asked the question, placing her hand on Naruto's shoulder, and urging him to speak.
He shook his head, seemingly unable to get the words past his lips. "Sasuke, he, um, I found him on the passenger seat."
"That means," Sakura paused, casting a glance at her silent father in law ,he looked straight back at her, then shook his head in disgust.
"That means that I'd been the one driving."
Four pair of eyes, two brown, one blue, the other emerald, snapped towards the entrance of the waiting area. There stood Itachi, hair matted to his head in red darkened areas, clothes disheveled, form hunched over what seemed to be a broken rib or two.
Medical instincts kicking into motion, Sakura took two steps forward, grabbing onto his sides, the older Uchiha leaned, almost immediately into her. "You need medical attention."
"He needs to explain what happened." It was Fugaku Uchiha who spoke the angry words. "You are not welcome here, you'll explain, and then you'll leave."
Itachi ignored his father completely. "How's Sasuke?" He squeezed her arm. "Is he alright?"
"You have no right to-"
"Fugaku." The terse command, in the guise of his name, came from Mikoto. She shook her head at him. "Now is certainly not the time. Sakura is right. You need medical attention."
"How is Sasuke?" He insisted.
Sakura could see the fear in his eyes, that he'd been too late, that they weren't telling him that his brother was dead, because of him. For a second, remembering the state that she had found her husband in on the ER table, the blood soaking her hands, she was tempted to take a leaf out of Fugaku's book, and let him wallow in his guilt, but she couldn't do that.
"He's fine. He's not out of the woods yet, but he should be alright."
He sunk to his knees, and his grip on her arm, brought Sakura down with him. Awkwardly, she patted him on the shoulder, unsure how to comfort him. "He's going to be okay." She reassured.
"He doesn't deserve that." Fugaku hissed. "You were on drugs, weren't you? That's what caused the accident."
"Fu-"
"Quiet, Mikoto. Weren't you?"
Itachi's gaze remained locked on the ground, even as Sakura detached herself from him, and stood. He nodded once. "Yes." He whispered, the swallowed. "Yes, I was."
Torn between being Itachi's sister in law, and Fugaku's daughter in law, Sakura chose to shed both cloaks and go for the doctor in her. "Come on, let's get you patched up."
"This is why I do not, and will never, approve of you, Sakura."
It was the first time that her father in law referred to her with her name, one of the few in which he actually referred to her, and the words finished the job that Sasuke's accident started, they broke her heart. She swallowed and ignored the words, intent on taking Itachi to get his forehead stitched and his ribs checked.
"Sasuke does not know how to love. It kills him, it happened before, it's happening now, with him, and it will happen with you. You will kill him."
Sakura turned on her heels, but the spiteful words died down her throat when she saw Fugaku's face, gone red with blood. She took a shuddering breath in, and reigned in her tears. "Fugaku-san, please think of your health."
"You think of Sasuke's health." He advanced towards her and Sakura resisted the urge to take a step back. "Sasuke is not capable of loving someone without destroying himself in the process."
"That's enough, Fugaku." Mikoto interjected. "Can't you see that she had no idea what you are talking about? You need to stop."
"Of course, she doesn't know. Of course, he wouldn't tell her."
"Don't do this." It was Itachi who spoke, Sakura could tell that it hurt him to speak, to address his father, both emotionally and physically, his hand was placed over the left side of his ribs. "He'd never forgive you if you tell her. Can you afford to spare another son?"
"Tell me what?" Sakura could not stand to be kept out of the loop, there was something big about her husband, that everyone in the room, even Naruto, knew and she didn't, something that Sasuke had kept from her, she remembered the cottage with his paintings, and wondered if the two secrets were related.
"Sakura, you should take Itachi to be fixed." Naruto reached for her shoulder, but she shrugged away from him. "Sakura-"
"What, Naruto? What do you know?"
"He forgave you, didn't he?" Fugaku addressed Itachi. "Which is why, he lies in a hospital bed, this moment, because he trusted you, for some reason, to take the wheel and stay sober, but you didn't, you took drugs, and nearly took his life. Does that sound familiar?"
Sakura barely registered the fact that this was the most that she ever heard Fugaku Uchiha speak, and Sasuke had never described his father as the talkative type.
"This is the second time that Sasuke nearly died because of trusting someone, he's a self-destructive force and you know it!"
"Fugaku, that's enough!"
Eyes wide, Sakura looked at Mikoto, the brunette was red faced, her elegant hands balled at her sides, livid with anger and fairly shaking with it, she looked at her husband, her dark brown eyes nearly alight. "I will not allow you to destroy his life. If you say another word, to her, or about Sasuke, if you say something like that again, I will not forgive you."
Fugaku was not one to be defeated. "He's destroying his life, he's done it before, and he's doing it again."
"What are you talking about?"
Naruto reached for her shoulder again, she didn't push him away this place because she was too focused on Fugaku. "You really need to go. You don't need to hear this." He shot a dirty look at his best friend's father, a storm brewing in the usually clear aquamarine of his eyes.
"Clearly, I do." She wasn't stupid.
"What Sasuke kept from you, what they're trying to keep me from telling you-"
"Father."
Fugaku ignored Itachi, whether because he didn't want to acknowledge that Itachi was his son, or that he was too intent on telling her, she didn't know. He continued as if the younger Uchiha hadn't spoken at all.
"-is that, the last time that Sasuke thought himself in love, he tried to kill himself."
The silence was deafening as the words registered themselves in Sakura's brain, she took longer to process them, and then she denied them, first to herself, then to the other occupants of the room, she shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her scratchy, red-rimmed, already dry, sage eyes, but the guilt and compassion that she saw in Mikoto's, Naruto's and Itachi's eyes was damning evidence, if there was any.
"What?"
She couldn't believe it, not when she heard it from her father in law's mouth, not when she saw the sympathy in the others' eyes, and not when she saw it with her own eyes. As a doctor, and Sasuke's closest of kin, it wasn't difficult to gain access to his files, and there it was, the ugly truth.
The details of his attempted suicide were laid before her in medical terms that she knew so well, she could spell them backwards, but she couldn't manage to even assimilate them now.
Apparently, he had swallowed three different drugs, each one more dangerous than the other, then slashed a blade across both of his wrists for good measure, losing a quarter of his blood in the process and even more when the drugs made him throw up bile mixed with blood, fat drops of salty liquid trailed down her cheeks and stained the papers she was holding, unable to read anymore, she snapped the file shut.
He had been sixteen, and he had wanted to die so badly, and he had nearly succeeded, technically, he had succeeded as he had coded for three minutes before they brought him back, she choked down a sob, because of a girl? It made her think of what this girl did to him, to make him give up so thoroughly? How much had he loved her, to make her betrayal, whatever she had done, so destructive?
Distinctly, she remembered the faint line that she spotted once, on her husband's wrist, the thin slash had been a shade or two lighter than his moonlight pale skin, but she had shrugged it off, she hadn't once considered that it might have been attempted suicide, because this was Sasuke, and Sasuke was stronger than titanium, harder than diamonds, people like Sasuke didn't just give up, they didn't break. For a second, she nearly dismissed the evidence that she still clutched to her chest, and yet, she remembered the panic attack that he had the other day, the way that he had behaved when she questioned him about the cottage, about his paintings, like he had some big secret to hide, skeletons that he wanted to keep away in a closet, well, one skeleton was out, and it made her wonder if there were more, and if he ever planned to tell her about them.
She had thought that she had been his dirty little secret to keep away from his family and acquaintances, but could it be, that his biggest secret had been kept from her?
Being a doctor also afforded her with other things, including the exclusive entry to her husband's room in the ICU, which was normally strictly forbidden to family members. She stood, in a fresh surgery gown, gloves, mask, hair cap and all, the whole nine yards. Sasuke's chest was covered in bandages, his skin tone only a shade or two darker than the gauzy materiel.
A quick glance towards the arsenal of medical machines that flanked his bed told her that he was good, better, and mending. Thinking that she had defied more rules than she had even thought she would in her entire life, she decided to break one more, and reached forward to touch his hair, usually so dark and glossy, but now matted and dull.
"I should be mad at you, you know." She whispered, not expecting an answer and not receiving one, obviously. "I should be furious, but I can't bring myself to feel anything but relief." She coughed out a laugh. "Alright, if we're being honest, I'm feeling…hurt as well." She sighed. "Because you didn't tell me, you should have, you know, I would have understood, you're my dearest friend, and I'm supposed to be yours too."
"So, why didn't you tell me? Were you afraid to tell me that there was once a woman that you loved more than life?" She was proud of herself, because her voice barely wavered, just the tiniest bit, when she spoke words that rubbed salt into her freshly sliced heart.
She bent and kissed his forehead. "Wake up soon, so I can ask you, okay? I love you, so much."
And she exited the ICU.
No cliffy, see? I'm being good, so please review, reviews make my day.