Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.
Special Thanks: goes out to Guest (1), Dani Stark, McKazekage, TheGirlWithNoIQ, greetingsfrommaars, and Guest (2) for all your wonderful reviews! Also thanks to everyone who has added this story (and me!) to your favorites and alert lists - you all are amazing!
Author's Notes: I'm so sorry for the longer than promised wait for this update! All the medical stuff I mentioned in the last chapter has turned out okay, but in the interim I got a (very minor!) case of the flu, so I didn't write a single word for a little over a week. But I'm better now, and hope next update should come much sooner! In the meantime, thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
*~Chapter XX~*
~Sickness~
Of all the rotten luck in the entire world. I can't believe- A thunderous sneeze interrupted Temari's irritated thought, and she reached for yet another tissue as she continued her inner tirade, -this happened now. Now, of all times.
Gingerly stretching her aching arm over the side of the bed, she dropped her newest used tissue into the already-overflowing trash can. And Soichiro is sick too. I wonder if that's why Itachi and Matsuri aren't back from their mission yet. They're already a day late- But no, no, Temari, don't freak out about it. They're fine... Closing her heavy lids over her scratchy eyes, she listened to her wheezing breathing in the otherwise silent room. Would death be preferable to this? she wondered. Especially if it meant the crushing worry pounding through her throbbing head would finally be eased.
Despite her physical and mental malaise she must have dozed off; for an indeterminate time later, a knock on the door woke her up. Struggling up onto her elbow, she called hoarsely, "Come in."
The door opened to admit Kankuro. He entered carrying one of his many puppets, his arm around its waist as if it were his date. "How you doin', sis?" he asked cheerfully.
Temari glared at him with red-rimmed eyes. "You're either blind or stupid to ask that question after looking at me," she replied in an acidic, raspy voice. Dropping back down onto her pillows, she debated pulling the blankets over her head. Curiosity smothered the urge. "What are you doing here?"
Plopping down on a chair he pulled up to her bedside, Kankuro propped the puppet on his knee. "I came to check on you. And keep you company. I found out it's almost time for another dose of medicine, so I told the kitchen to bring up some tea and soup for you around that time." He looked pleased with himself.
Kankuro was many, many things, but a nurturer he wasn't. "Uh-huh. Why are you really here? And if you say it's to test out your newest puppet show idea on me, you can just pack it up and leave right now. I think I still have enough strength left to chase you out of here if I have to." Although another sneeze kind of ruined the effect of her stern words, she was ready to follow through on her threat if she had to. Her brother's puppets freaked her out; she didn't like being anywhere near them.
A twitch of his fingers made one of the puppet's arms lift, its hand flapping in an anemic wave. "What, you don't like Ant?" he said. "But he's one of the friendlier ones!"
The creepy, toothy, almost sinister grin on the puppet's skeletal face looked anything but friendly to Temari. "Honestly, Kankuro: Tell me why you're really here, or I will kick you out." She snatched for another tissue, wincing as she carefully applied it to her bright red, scalded nose.
Seriousness suddenly replaced the teasing grin on Kankuro's face. Lifting the puppet, he settled it down on the floor next to him, where Temari could only glimpse part of its leg and its foot. "Really, sis, I am here to check on you. How are you feeling?"
"Like death warmed over." Rolling onto her side, Temari curled up into a little ball and shivered. "Have you heard anything about Itachi and Matsuri's mission yet?"
Kankuro rolled his eyes. "Even as sick as you are with the flu-"
Temari scowled at him and interrupted, "It is not the flu! It's just a mutant cold."
"-As sick as you are with the flu," Kankuro repeated firmly, "is that all you can think about? Business? Temari, once you're better, you really need to get out and have fun more often. Maybe even get a little something we call a life. One outside work."
"I do so have a life," Temari replied defensively. "I just asked about their mission, since they should've been back by now. It wasn't like I was begging to go after them or anything." Turning her head into her pillows, she coughed, already feeling soreness build into her ribcage. Joy.
"That leads me to wonder which one you're more worried about - your lady's maid, or your former partner." A sense of foreboding coiled queasily through her as Kankuro studied her for a long moment before his eyes lit up. "Aha," he crowed, a knowing expression creeping, catlike, over his face. He almost singsonged, "I know why Gaara reassigned the two of you. You're in a relationship with Itachi now, aren't you?"
"Congratulations," Temari croaked irritably. "You're the last one in the village to figure it out." She had wanted to keep her and Itachi's relationship from Kankuro for as long as possible, because she knew the teasing would never end once he discovered the truth. But it looked as though the precious days of her reprieve were over.
Leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees, Kankuro nailed her with a look nearly as intense as one of Gaara's. "I'm proud of you, Temari," he said quietly.
Wait - what? Rolling onto her back, Temari covered her eyes with on arm and muttered hoarsely, "I must be dead. I figured you'd tease me mercilessly. And since you're not, I know I must be in the afterlife. I just can't figure out why you're here."
The mattress dipped a bit as Kankuro shifted to sit on it next to her. He tugged at her arm until she finally relented, allowing him to pull it away from her eyes so she could look up at him. "I'm serious, Tem. I'm really proud of you."
"That's typically my line to you." Sighing, Temari allowed her arm to droop down to rest across her torso. "But I give up. Why exactly are you proud of me?"
"Because you finally let someone in. I gotta admit, part of me was starting to think you'd go through the rest of your life by yourself, trying to carry your burdens all alone. It's no way to live, but Gaara and I both knew you wouldn't listen to either of us if we tried to talk to you about it." Rubbing the back of his head, Kankuro gave her an awkward smile and added, "I suppose it doesn't really surprise me, though, that you fell for the guy from another village. After all, I know how many from Suna have asked you to get into a relationship with them, and you've turned them all down."
"That was years ago." Temari shook her head, only able to recall two or three faces out of the myriad men who had chased her. Eventually, they all heard "no" enough times they finally learned to stop asking, accepting she wasn't going to change her mind. Her cold exterior, born from her experience in Kiri, had also helped her repel them.
As if following her line of thought, Kankuro spoke again. "You know, I really think Itachi's the one for you. Only a man worthy of you wouldn't have allowed the wall of ice you'd built around your heart to protect it chase him away. I'm happy for you, sis. Really."
"How eloquent of you. Who are you, and what have you done with my goofy brother?" Letting her gentle smile take the sting out of her words, Temari weakly reached out to punch her brother's arm. "Thanks, Kankuro. It really does mean a lot to me that you approve of our relationship." Now she had both of her brothers' blessings, she felt the last of the tight uncertainty in her chest ease away. Letting out a long sigh, she felt her burning, tired eyes grow a little heavier. "I hope they hurry up with that medicine and soup. I'm feeling sleepy again..."
Kankuro snickered. "You just want me to leave so I won't tease you." When Temari cracked open an eye to give him a stricken look, he grinned deviously and winked. "Oh, yes, big sister, I am definitely going to tease you. You didn't think you'd get off that easily, did you?" Rubbing his hands together, he opened his mouth, a gleeful expression on his face. Before he could speak, though, a knock on the door between the hall and her sitting room interrupted him. "So close," he said, expression falling. "But hold that thought." Standing, he headed out to open the door.
Closing her eyes again, Temari listened to the murmur of Kankuro's voice, and a female one undoubtedly belonging to the servant bringing up the tea, soup, and medicine. They talked for longer than she expected. Just as she considered getting out of bed to go see what was going on, she heard the door close softly. Gathering up her sorely lagging stores of energy, she pushed herself up to settle back against the nest of pillows she'd arranged earlier to help support her when she sat up.
Kankuro appeared in the open doorway of her room, a tray in his hands and a grim expression on his face, completely at odds with the levity there just a couple of minutes beforehand. "Temari..." He trailed off, dark eyes darting away from her face, instead fixing on the tray in his hands.
Temari felt what little color remained in her face drain away. "Itachi...?" She stared hard at her brother, begging him to tell her something, anything, else was wrong. That the bad feeling in her gut was just caused by her sickness, not by the man she'd finally allowed herself to start to love having been injured - or worse.
Letting out a long sigh, Kankuro came across the room. He set the tray on the bedside table, careful not to knock anything over. Turning back toward her, he finally met her gaze squarely as he delivered his news. "Matsuri and Itachi just got back, and - and Itachi's not in good shape. The Healers on staff here have already been summoned, since bringing him here was closer than the hospital, but-"
Ignoring the aching weakness in her limbs and the cough building in her chest, Temari frantically shoved away her blankets and climbed out of bed. Ignoring both slippers and a robe, she pushed past her brother and hurried toward the door, consumed by the urge to get to Itachi as soon as possible. No, no, no!
Kankuro caught her arm, pulling her to a stop without much effort. "Temari," he said sternly. Even when she whipped her head around to glare at him - which did nothing but make her dizzy - he didn't back down or let go. "You're going to do neither him nor yourself any good by running over there in this condition," he said. "Just calm down, take your medicine, and then I'll help you over there in a few min-"
"NO!" Summoning all the strength she could, Temari yanked away from her younger brother and resumed her (admittedly unsteady) march toward the door. "I am going to see him, and neither you nor anyone else will stop me!"
"Temari-" Kankuro's footsteps sounded behind her.
Spinning around, Temari caught herself on the doorframe as dizziness swept through her again. Gritting her teeth, she fixed as strong a glare as she could muster on her brother and snarled, "Itachi was there for me when I needed him. I refuse to let him be alone when he needs me! Now either help me, or stay out of my way!"
Even though Kankuro looked doubtful, he slid his arm around her waist and steadied her as they made their way across the sitting room and into the hall. As they turned the corner and headed for the stairs, she could already hear the commotion undoubtedly centered around Itachi's room. "Hurry," she croaked. "Please."
They took the stairs as quickly but still as safely as possible, then hastened their pace a bit the closer they got to Itachi's rooms. Temari's eyes sought ahead, straining for the first glimpse she could possibly get of the activity.
The first person she saw was Matsuri. Filthy from head to toe, tear tracks ran through the mud and blood on her face; a nasty gash down her arm, which looked to be in danger of growing infected if it wasn't cleansed and stitched up soon, was being examined by a Healer. The force of the anguish and guilt in her maid's eyes when she spotted her mistress slammed into the blonde like a solid wall.
"Matsuri...?" She stared at the blood on the other woman's clothing, wondering how much of it was hers, and how much was Itachi's. Her stomach rolled at the sight, as well as at the thought.
Fresh tears streamed down Matsuri's face as she pulled away from the Healer and rushed across the space between them to throw herself into a deep bow before Temari. "I'm so sorry!" she gasped. "It's all my fault!"
Ignoring the dirt and blood, Temari grasped her maid's shoulders and pulled her upright, forcing herself to be gentle. "What happened, Matsuri? What happened?" Another cough welled into her throat, but with a fierce effort she swallowed it back. Her mutant cold would just have to take a backseat in the face of whatever had happened to Itachi.
"I needed to get closer," Matsuri sobbed. "Itachi offered to create a diversion, but everything went so wrong! I'm so sorry, milady! I didn't know he was sick!"
The Healer followed after her and wrapped her arm around Matsuri's shoulders. "I'm sorry, milady," she apologized to Temari. "But I need to tend to her wounds before they grow infected."
Knowing the Healer was right, Temari released her grip on her maid and nodded. "We'll speak later," she told Matsuri, trying to keep the tension out of her voice. "For now, go get cleaned up and get that gash taken care of."
Nodding with her head still bowed, Matsuri allowed herself to be led away, although she cast a guilty look at Itachi's closed door on the way past.
Letting out a wheezing breath, Temari took a quick tally of the rest of the people sharing the hall with her. Gaara stood talking in low tones with Baki and another ninja she recognized as one of the guard detail for the entrance to the village; several of the household staff clustered by the staircase, murmuring quietly, anxiously, among themselves; and finally, Kankuro had slipped away from her and looked to be deep in conference with another low-ranked Healer just a few steps away.
Temari looked back and forth between her brothers, trying to decide which conversation would get her the information she needed the fastest. At last deciding Gaara's looked to be more focused on business, she made her way over to Kankuro and the Healer, propping a hand against the nearby wall as she listened.
The Healer glanced nervously at her, and Kankuro shook his head at Temari's "you can't make me go" expression before their conversation continued. "Can't you slip in and find out how things are going, then come back and tell us?" her puppet master younger brother inquired.
Holding up one hand, the dark-haired girl shook her head. "Absolutely not," she said firmly. "Hatsuharu-sensei and his team will be totally focused on assessing the patient's injuries, and beginning treatment. I think you will agree that is the most important thing here. Only once Uchiha Itachi is stabilized will time be taken for updates on his condition."
"Unacceptable." Temari didn't realize she'd uttered the word until Kankuro frowned at her and the young Healer gave her a startled look. Wrapping her arms around herself to try to control her shivering, she forged ahead, her voice made even hoarser by stress, "I want to see him. I have to see him."
Kankuro sucked in an irritated breath and said with an air of forced patience, "Didn't you hear Healer Saki? I understand you're worried, Temari, but for Itachi's sake we've got to be patient and stay out of the way."
The Healer swept a professionally appraising look over her and shook her head slightly. "With respect, milady, you really don't look as though you should be out of your own bed."
"I'm fine!" What should have been an intimidating snarl was ruined by the wracking cough that exploded out of her. She bent double, clutching her ribcage, her vision greying around the edges, every joint and muscle in her body ferociously protesting the jarring. As her knees sagged and she slumped sideways against the wall, her brother and the Healer swiftly moved to support her. Before she could summon the strength to shake them off, Gaara suddenly materialized in front of Temari, for all the world as if he'd formed himself out of the grains of sand so abundant in their village.
"Enough, Temari!" Even though he didn't raise his voice by so much as a decibel, authority crackled in his tone. "Or are you trying to prove how right I was to separate the two of you professionally? Am I going to have to order you to be forcibly returned to your rooms?"
Temari gasped at the threat, but it cleared her mind of its fevered panic. "No," she said, quietly and more rationally, "that won't be necessary." Though this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't split up our team, the unspoken thought took root in the back of her mind. "I'm sorry. I'm not - quite - myself. I'll leave once I know something about Itachi's condition."
Gaara narrowed his eyes at her at her counter-ultimatum, slight as it was, but let it pass. "From what Matsuri told me about what happened, it's very serious. He's been severely beaten. He very likely has internal injuries, if not internal bleeding, and one leg is possibly broken. He's also evidently ill with the same thing you and Soichiro have." One shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. "Healer Hatsuharu and his team will be working over Itachi for a long time before they can tell us anything else." His voice gentled. "Go back to bed, Temari. You're too sick yourself to stay out here waiting. I promise that even if I have to wake you, I will make sure to keep you posted."
-And there she had the information she'd said she wanted. Staring back into her brother's shadow-ringed green eyes, Temari knew this was a battle she couldn't win. Tipping her chin downward in a curt nod, she said, "I'll hold you to that, brother."
As she unsteadily turned to make her way back to her room, Gaara said, "Kankuro, Healer Saki: please make sure she gets there all right." Pausing midturn, she gave him a look: Really, Gaara? You think I'm going to double back somehow? He returned it with a bland one of his own, with the addition of a lifted brow. Without even the energy to roll her eyes at him, she allowed each of her escorts to slip a supporting arm around her.
Once again in her bed (where, she grudgingly admitted, she probably wouldn't have made it on her own), exhausted but unable to rest, Temari settled in to wait for the promised bulletin from Gaara.
And wait.
And wait.
"...Several broken ribs ... a cracked collarbone ... greenstick fracture of the right tibia ... a bruised kidney ... a concussion ... a broken nose ... multiple bruises and abrasions, including a black eye and a split lip ... and on top of all that, a really bad case of the flu. Healer Hatsuharu says he's cautiously optimistic of a full recovery, but at present rates his condition as being very serious."
As he'd promised to do, Gaara had woken Temari to update her on Itachi's condition. As he listed off his injuries, she felt tremors that had nothing to do with her chilling begin deep in her core, growing stronger and stronger. Twisting her fingers tightly in her covers, she squeezed her eyes shut against the hot prickle of tears. "I should have been there."
"As sick as you are?" Gaara's voice held a distinct snap. "Don't be ridiculous. The entire mission would have failed and both of you possibly could've been lost."
Temari moved her heavy head back and forth on her pillows. "No," she said flatly, "that wouldn't have happened." She opened her eyes again to meet his grim glare. "Itachi and I - have a sense of what's going on with each other like nothing I've ever experienced before. No way he could've fooled me as he did Matsuri. I would have known he wasn't at his best going in; and he would've known the same thing about me."
Gaara's green gaze bored into hers. "Are you saying you - as a team - would have aborted the mission?"
She didn't flinch. "Yes."
Her younger brother held her eyes with his for another long moment before he abruptly snorted. "You shock me, big sister," he said dryly.
Temari moved restlessly, trying yet again to find some ease for her aching body, her cheeks flushing with more than fever. "Don't tease," she muttered. "I'm already going to get enough of it from Kankuro. So maybe - possibly falling in love with Itachi - has given me a different perspective on things." I must be delirious to be talking like this.
None of the Sabaku siblings were much given to spontaneous displays of affection, Gaara the least of all. So Temari felt a jiggle of surprise when he leaned forward and briefly clasped one of her hands in his. "I'm proud of you, Temari," he said, the second time in twenty-four hours she'd heard those words from one of her brothers. "I know none of this is easy for you. But I'm glad to see you coming out of your isolation. I think you'll discover you're stronger because of it." He withdrew his hand.
Uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, Temari shifted slightly. Really, what could she say to that, other than, "Thank you, little brother." She wanted to ask if he'd had a chance to debrief Matsuri, to find out what exactly had happened, except she didn't have the strength, either emotionally or physically, to deal with it. Somewhere deep inside her the desire still burned to see Itachi with her own eyes; but distantly, muted by her overall misery and the knowledge it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
Gaara gave her an understanding look. "Do you think you can go back to sleep now?"
"Maybe." She twisted carefully to look at the timepiece on her bedside table and made a face. "If nothing else, it's almost time for Healer Saki or another of her ilk to show up with some vile concoction for me to drink. And make me sit up and do deep breathing exercises." A particularly hard chill shook her, making her huddle down into her covers and her teeth chatter. "Thanks for coming to let me know how Itachi is doing, Gaara. You'll continue to keep me posted, right?"
"Either Kankuro or I will." He stood to go, but paused to give her a glimmering look. "I'm getting updates on you as well, I hope you realize."
She grinned crookedly. "Of course you are. Right."
Gaara left. Shortly after, the Healer came and went. Rather than dwelling on how utterly miserable she felt, Temari thought of Itachi and his many injuries. Was he lying awake, too? Was he in agony? Or had the Healers given him something to knock him out and make him sleep? She devoutly hoped the latter was true; even without the aches and chills of the flu, he would have to be in terrible pain. Her pulse thudded dully in the ear snuggled into her pillow. Although in one small corner of her mind she knew it to be irrational, she clung to wakefulness even as her latest dose of medicine tried to take effect. Part of her feared that if she slipped off to sleep, Itachi would lose the tenuous grasp he still had on life. Keeping herself awake and at least partly in control of her breathing and heartrate made her feel more confident in Itachi's ability to do the same. Come on, Itachi, don't you give up on me now. I did not fall for you just for you to up and leave me when I'm finally starting to feel able to let myself love you.
Eventually Temari fell into a deep slumber. Waking in acute discomfort an indeterminate amount of time later, it took a few moments to realize that, while the merciless, wrenching aching and chilling had ceased, she - and her sheets - were soaking wet with sweat. Huh. Fever must've broken. About time. Cautiously pushing up into a sitting position, she took stock of the rest of her, realizing not only did her breath come more easily now, she hadn't woken up with the need to reach right for the tissue box. Her chest still felt a little tight, and the tickling urge to cough still lingered at the back of her throat, but she sensed she had passed the worst of it.
Feeling the stillness of the world around her, Temari glanced up at the windows just below the ceiling and saw them darkened with night. She twisted to look at her timepiece again: almost three o'clock in the morning. Ugh. Despite the fact the bones in her legs seemed to have turned to rubber, Temari very carefully got to her feet, catching her balance with a hand to her bedside table when she swayed. Shuffling her feet and holding her arms slightly away from her body, she made her way to a chest of drawers for clean, dry nightclothes; then continued on to the facilities. Once she'd shakily taken care of her physical needs, she shuffled back into the bedroom to take fresh bedding from another drawer. Changing her bed nearly finished her off; several times she had to sit on the edge of the mattress until the uncontrollable trembling of her limbs eased.
She collapsed rather than climbed back into bed, her thoughts returning to Itachi. Gaara promised to keep me posted, she fretted, in no mood to be reasonable. So what if it's the wee small hours; he's probably still in his office working. So where are my updates? How can he just let me lie here and worry? I'll give it until four o'clock, and if I haven't heard anything by then, I'm going down myself to check!
Exhaustion took her. When she startled awake some time later, dawn was graying the windows of her bedroom, and Gaara was standing next to her bed.
"Temari," he said, his expression grim. His light eyes looked sunken in their dark sockets, and his red hair seemed even more vivid against his bone-white skin.
Temari shot straight up off her pillows. The room spun around her as her heart pounded from the sudden exertion. "No," she gasped. "Please, Gaara, no!" Itachi, no, no, no, I can't lose you-!
Stepping forward sharply, her younger brother grasped her arms to hold her upright as he shook his head. "Itachi's still alive," he said quickly reassuring her.
Temari let out a shaky sigh of relief. Unconsciously pressing both hands over her heart, she said, "What is it, then? Why do you look like that?"
Gaara's hand tightened slightly on her arm. "Itachi is still alive," he repeated. "But - the Healer sitting with him sent for Healer Hatsuharu, who in turn sent for me. He woke up less than half an hour ago-"
When Gaara paused, Temari felt her chest tighten, her stomach roll. She twisted her arms so she could grasp her brother's in return, somehow knowing she'd need the support when he finally got out what he'd come to report.
Looking straight into her eyes, his own sympathetic, Gaara finished in a voice tinged deeply by sorrow. "-But it was only long enough to vomit blood."
*~To Be Continued~*
Author's Ending Notes: I am so sorry for the longer-than-promised wait for this update! All the medical stuff I mentioned in the last chapter turned out okay, but in the interim I contracted a (very minor!) case of the flu (let's put it this way - I sympathize very much with Temari). I'm better now, but I didn't write even one word for over a week - not fun. At all. But I'm back with this update now, and I'm seriously hoping there won't be such a long delay for the next chapter. In the meanwhile, thank you so much for your patience and support, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you again for the next update!