Er…hello? (guilty look) Sorry I haven't updated in so long…but things have been kinda busy lately. (deeply apologetic) But thank you all so much for keeping the comments and reviews coming. Every time I get one, I'm reminded of this story and get encouraged enough to squeeze a little time out to write one paragraph. (smile) So thank you very much for all your patience and encouragements! We're almost at the end of the story. Just the epilogue after this chapter and it'll be done.

Anyway, because you didn't leave an email address for me to reply your review,
Eve: Nope, it's not another plot twist. (smile) They are indeed from Konoha.
Avernion: Nah, Kakashi isn't that easy to kill.
Melissa: I'm glad you're having fun reading this!
Harvey: Yeah, Kakashi really has endured a lot to reach this point…
xKokurox: Wah…I'm sorry that it was unclear and made the ending seem like a cliffhanger for you. Kakashi only passed out in the previous chapter, he didn't die.
Anise: Hm, weird thing with the email line. Anyway, I'm so glad you think the description of Kakashi's face suit him. I've thought about this for quite some time and figured it would take an earnest, boy-next-door kind of charm to make both the girl and the owner at the Ichiraku ramen swoon like that in the anime. (smile)
Senna-chan: Ah yes, finally! I think we all waited as long as Kakashi for this moment.
Hale: Sorry the updates are slow but I'll try to wrap this up as soon as I can.
Kennardaillard: I'm glad you're enjoying this fic even though it's angsty. I enjoy reading and writing a lot and to know that my story could bring some enjoyment to the readers is really the greatest feeling.
Zaza: I was definitely worried that with so many twists and turns and emotional upheaval, this story is going to turn the ninja world into a soap opera! Not that it wouldn't be fun to see that. (laugh)
Kittykat: Wow, you really read fast. Hm, Kakashi was a bit OOC? Ok, I'll try to work on that.

And finally, the story continues.

Chapter Thirty-Six

When Kakashi first woke, it was to excruciating pain.

His breath hitched, the groan he was about to make caught in his throat. Every nerve was screaming with a raw agony as though he was being burned alive but he was too weak to even make a sound. He swallowed dryly, wincing at the strange cottony taste in his mouth which told him he had been drugged for days.

He frowned. Mustering what little was left of his strength, he forced himself into full consciousness and cracked open his eyes.

The cool, tingly pressure of a poultice applied over the Sharingan prevented him from opening Obito's eye but he managed to peer out blearily with his own.

The room swam slowly into focus; dim and hazy, a combination of the fuzziness in his mind and the inky darkness of night.

It was a disorienting moment as he squinted at the pale shaft of moonlight shining in through the gap in the curtains by his bed, wondering vaguely where he was. Snow was fluttering past the windows, and his half-lidded gaze wandered drowsily to where they cast a pretty speckled pattern against the walls.

The familiar sight of the stark, white walls of the intensive care ward made him feel instantly, and immeasurably, relieved.

He's back in Konoha.

There's still a Konoha left to come back to.

That meant the mission must have been a success, and Tsunade must have been able to make the antidote in time to save the village.

He would have smiled if it didn't hurt so damn much.

Still, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosened and it put him at ease to know the village was safe even as he lay in bed, crippled with pain, feeling feverish and ill.

He grimaced, closing his eyes as he tried to draw a deeper breath. It hurt to breathe and it amused him that this might be the worst he had ever been returning from a mission.

There was an oxygen mask strapped across his face, the rise and fall of the pump hissed a steady rhythm in the silence of the room. Somewhere to his left, the heart rate monitor joined in with its own quiet little electronic beeps. He focused on the sounds, focused on drawing each breath, trying to ignore the pain as he tried to fall back asleep.

That was when he became aware of something extremely peculiar.

Someone, was holding his hand.

His eye flew open; his pain forgotten in an instant.

It took a ridiculous amount of effort to tilt his head to the side to see who it was and the exertion nearly knocked him out. But when he finally managed, the sight made his heart warm with such an unexpected rush of happiness he had not thought he would have the chance to feel again.

Iruka…

The chunin sat slumped in the chair beside his bed, leaning a little on the armrest as though he wasn't quite strong enough to sit up by himself. He was dressed in pale yellow hospital pajamas, a warm woolen blanket spread across his lap. His hair was undone, his hitai-ate gone and the lank brown strands fell about his shoulders, framing his solemn face.

He looks pale, Kakashi mused thoughtfully. His initial elation at finding the chunin by his side was fast fading as he traced the exhausted droop of his teammate's shoulders to the listlessness in his eyes. The thick bandages wrapped around his shoulder peeked out from the collar of his shirt, a stark white against his tanned skin.

Kakashi's eye widened at the plastic tubing of an IV drip that snaked out from under the cuff of his teammate's sleeve, running off to the bag of chakra replenishing fluid that hung from the stand beside his own.

The man was clearly unwell. He had lost a fair amount of blood from the wound in his shoulder and barely escaped the bout of poisoning that should have killed him.

Kakashi's brow twitched in exasperation. Iruka could be incredibly obstinate when he chose to. But he had thought his teammate would at least have enough sense to rest in bed if the doctors deemed the chunin's condition serious enough to hospitalize him. What was he doing, sitting by himself in the dark like this?

If Iruka noticed his disapproval, he gave no sign. He sat very still, his hand curled loosely around the jounin's broken one, staring absently at their joined hands as though his mind was miles away.

Then, he looked up. His eyes were dull from want of sleep but they lit up the moment their gaze met.

"Kakashi!" He breathed, leaning forward in his chair, his face split by a wide, ecstatic grin. "You're awake!"

"Thank goodness you're awake. Y-you have no idea…" His eyes dropped briefly to their joined hands but instead of letting go, he clutched his hand even more tightly. "You were under the effects of the poison for so long…and your chakra was so low…"

His deep brown eyes were luminous in the dark, an odd touch of wildness in them as he looked at him searchingly. "Y-you wouldn't wake up…a-and Tsunade said…she said…"

There was a sudden tremble in his voice. He bit his lip, looking away from him.

"I'm glad…I'm just so glad you're awake, Kakashi…" He said in a choked whisper, lacing their hands tightly together.

Quietly, pressing his free hand over his mouth as though he was trying to stop himself, he started to cry.

Kakashi stared, horrified.

He had never seen Iruka like this. It took him a moment to realize, his teammate was frightened.

Frightened for him.

Frightened, beyond the strong-hearted chunin could bear, that he might lose him.

Listening to the muted hitched breathing, looking at the hand that clutched so desperately at his own, Kakashi's heart constricted.

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort the schoolteacher. To hold him and tell him he had suffered worse and survived. That he was going to be fine, that he would heal. That if the chunin was to cry every time a teammate got hurt, he would have no tears left.

But he had no strength to even say a word. All he managed was a weak croak that did not sound remotely reassuring.

Iruka raised his head at the sound. Instantly, he was leaning over him, concern written across his tear-streaked face.

"What is it?" He asked, his eyes darting to the heart rate monitors before shifting quickly to the respirator. "Is it the pain? It must be very bad oh-!"

He broke off, letting go of his injured hand suddenly as though he had been burnt. "I'm sorry! I didn't realize I was holding on so hard…I must be hurting you."

He paused and deflated with a sigh, sinking back in his chair, his expression rueful and sad.

"I'm always hurting you, aren't I?" He said quietly.

The meaning of his words was not lost on the jounin.

Clasping his hands tightly in his lap, Iruka's head bowed. "I'm sorry I've been so useless…I'm sorry I'm always disappointing you. I'm trying but I can't do anything right…I-"

He bit his lip, cutting himself off. His usually cheerful countenance was shadowed by that solemn expression Kakashi had seen on his face when he first woke up, and on so many occasions on their mission together when the chunin thought he wasn't looking.

Wiping a tired hand over his face, Iruka took a deep breath as if he was about to divulge a matter that had weighed on his mind for a long time.

"I know I'm not that person you care for anymore." He began slowly but with grave purpose. "I don't have any of those memories that are so precious to you. I'm not good enough compared to the Iruka you have in your mind…and maybe I never will be."

His mouth tightened into a grim, determined line. "But I can learn." His voice gathered force. "I will work hard. I won't do anything you dislike. I will change everything I can so that I'll be more like that Iruka you have in your mind."

"And if that's still not good enough…" He trailed off. Spreading his hands against the bed, he stared down at the splay of his stout, callused fingers against the blanket and was silent for a long moment.

"I'm still me, I'm still Iruka." He said finally, looking up at him, sorrow and pain reflected in the depths of his dark brown eyes. "Could you please at least try a little to see that too?"

"Could you try to accept me too?"

Kakashi blinked, stunned.

This was the first time he had heard any of this. Looking at the earnest pleading expression on the chunin's face, he could not help but feel greatly moved.

All this time, he has been worrying about this…

He must have been staring at Iruka quite intently for the man blushed and looked away. He was smiling now, a little bit shy, a little bit determined; and so entirely Iruka, he felt himself falling in love with the chunin all over again.

"Ah, what am I doing?" Iruka laughed embarrassedly, scratching at the scar across his nose. He managed a strained smile. "You need rest, I've kept you up with my babbling."

Rising slowly to his feet, he reached over to the dresser by the bed and wrung out a wet towel, placing it against his fevered brow. "Just try to endure the pain and fever for now, okay? Tsunade-sama managed to make an antidote for you, but she said you've been under the effects of the poison for so long, she wasn't sure if it'll work." At this, he looked troubled and anxious.

Chasing away the dark thoughts with a shake of his head, he smiled. "But she said as long as you would wake before morning, even if it's just for a little while, you'll be alright. You'll pull through."

Raising his hand to stroke his hair, he hesitated, as though it was something he had wanted to do all along but wasn't sure if he was allowed to.

In the end, he settled for letting his hand rest lightly on his head, merely letting the silver strands sift between his fingers, the gesture awkward but filled with promise. "So just go to sleep, okay? We can talk more when you wake."

In a heartbeat, Kakashi tensed. What if this was all a dream? What if this was another genjutsu and in reality, he had not escaped the Takigakure prison at all?

Suddenly, he was afraid to close his eyes.

Afraid that the next time he opened his eyes, he would no longer be in this place, in this place where Iruka cared for him, where Iruka held his hand and touched his hair, who looked at him as though he was special to him.

To lose all this a second time would be too much to bear.

Although he had no strength to speak, Iruka seemed to understand him.

Slipping his hand back into his bandaged one, the chunin smiled and sat down. "It's alright. It'll be fine, you'll see." He gave his hand a light, careful squeeze, mindful of his injuries. "Go to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up."

Kakashi wanted to protest, but Iruka's voice was a soft, low murmur in the dark and the words healed his heart and soothed his pains better than any drug could.

A great weariness settled over him and suddenly, he found he could not keep his eye open.

And the last thought in his mind as sank back into sleep was that Iruka's hands were really just as warm as he remembered them…

The next time Kakashi woke, the room was filled with bright winter sunshine.

He blinked at the crisp, white curtains that hung over the windows to clear blue sky outside. The intense pain was gone, leaving a half-hearted sort of ache in his bones. He was still weak, but he was breathing on his own and the fever had broken, leaving his mind clearer than it had been when he last woke.

For a moment, he simply lay in bed, languidly taking in the feel of the starched sheets against his skin, watching the sunlight refract through the frosted window panes with an idyllic calm, reveling in all the sight and sensations of being alive.

Then, with a sharp gut-dropping suddenness, it hit him.

He was alone in the room.

He sat up in a rush, wide-eyed and panicked. Pain shot through him at the careless movement but he pressed a hand to his middle and ignored it. Breathless and on the brink of despair, he looked around desperately.

The visitor's chair by his bed was empty and a quick sweep of the room showed that there were no nooks and crannies that anyone could be hiding.

There was a tall vase of sunflowers by the window sill and he knew Gai had been by to visit. A smaller one with a single daffodil in it told him Sakura had been by as well.

But there was nothing else in the room that might suggest anyone else had been in the room.

His heart sank.

It was a dream. It was all a fever-induced dream, nothing more.

And like a fool, he had fallen for it.

His shoulders slumped, suddenly he was very glad they had given him his mask back so that no one could see how shaken up he was by a mere dream. Pressing his good hand over his eyes, he drew a trembling breath and allowed himself a small self-deprecating smile.

After all this time, he should have known better.

For a moment, he truly regretted waking up. The cold loneliness of reality always did cut deeper after a brief tantalizing glimpse of hope.

Lost in a world of fresh sorrow and old grief, Kakashi almost jumped at the sound of the bathroom flushing. He stared fixedly at the closed door of the adjoining bathroom, listening to the sound of gurgling water and the squeak of the taps, hardly daring to breathe.

He wished he had the use of his Sharingan, to read the chakra signature of the person behind the closed door. But the eye was wrapped firmly behind bandages to allow it to rest and he doubted he had the energy to fuel it given the state he was in anyway.

And perhaps it was better if he didn't know the identity of the person behind that door.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly gone dry.

Hope was rising within him once more, and it froze him with fear.

His hand fisted slowly around the blankets pooled on his lap, even as he fought to keep his composure. He could not let himself hope, not again, not anymore.

Still, he could not keep himself from watching the bathroom door as it swung open and Iruka emerged, wiping his hands on the seat of his pants.

"Kakashi." His good-natured face lit up with a bright, warm smile. "How are you feeling?"

Kakashi did not reply.

The man was in uniform, his hair bunched up neatly behind his head. He watched the man warily as the chunin approached the bed, measuring his movements, studying the features in that face he knew and loved so well for the slightest sign of deceit.

He would not be fooled again.

"Kakashi?" Iruka sounded anxious. "What's wrong?" He put out a hand as though to touch him.

In an instant, Kakashi had his wrist in his grip.

"Who are you?" He growled, his voice gravelly with disuse but seething unmistakably with anger. "What have you done with Iruka?"

Iruka smiled, wiping his hands on his pants as he stepped through the door of the bathroom.

Kakashi had a real sense of timing. He had been sitting by his bed all day in the past week, watching over him, waiting for him to come around. But the jounin just had to choose a moment when he stepped out to use the bathroom to wake.

Nevertheless, the anxiety in his heart eased to see Kakashi sitting up in bed, his dark eye blinking slowly as he met his gaze.

He grinned. "Kakashi. How are you feeling?"

The first sign that something was wrong was when the jounin did not smile back. He sat motionless, studying him with a dispassionate calm, his expression unreadable behind his mask.

Iruka's stomach knotted up with worry.

"Kakashi?" He stepped forward, reaching out a hand to feel the jounin's forehead, worried that odd behavior was a sign the fever had returned.

His teammate grabbed his wrist before he could touch him, his face transformed into one of pure rage. "Who are you? What have you done with Iruka?"

He gasped. The jounin was still unwell, his grip on his arm was shaky and weak. But it was the implications of his words that frightened Iruka to the core.

Was this what Tsunade had feared would happen? She had hinted at her concern for Kakashi's mental stability before and the jounin had showed signs of disorientation when he first found him in the Takigakure prison. Could it be that the delusions had gotten worse and now finally consumed the man?

Swallowing hard, Iruka pushed back his worries and faced him. "Have you gone blind?" He challenged. "Can't you tell? I'm Iruka."

Kakashi gave him a considering look for a long moment, staring so deeply into his eyes Iruka had to fight the urge to look away.

Then, the grip on his wrist slackened and the silver head bowed.

"No." Kakashi said in a small voice, tremulous and upset as a child. "No, you're not."

The miserable tone of the jounin's voice and the weight of his words hit him like a physical blow. Something in his chest clenched.

Scratching uncomfortably at the scar across his nose, he shuffled his feet and shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. "Uh…well, I guess I am Iruka but…not quite the Iruka you were hoping for, huh?"

When Kakashi did not react, he sighed. "Maybe you were too ill to remember what I said, but I do care for you, greatly." He bit his lip. "I'm not as good as the person you wish I was. And perhaps you may even be right that it's never the same the second time round."

He took a deep breath. "But I will work hard. I still want to try…if you would have me, that is…" He finished uncertainly, staring fixedly down at the spread of the blankets on the bed, unable to meet the jounin's eye.

For a long moment, there was only silence.

Iruka fought the urge to fidget. He imagined Kakashi's intense gaze must be on him right now, searing his skin, laying bare his soul, seeing-even without the help of the Sharingan-the thousand and one imperfections because of the memories he did not have.

Then, a small broken sound came from deep in Kakashi's throat.

Startled, Iruka looked up.

The jounin's face was frozen and expressionless but his eye brimmed with tears, rolling silently down his cheeks, dampening the fabric of his mask.

"Ack! You're crying!" Iruka yelped, flailing in panic. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong? I'm so sorry…I must be upsetting you…" He took a frantic step towards the door. "Uh…I guess I should leave…I'll come back later…"

A hand caught his wrist a second time, this time tight with desperate yearning and need.

He turned to look at the jounin, surprised.

"What you said…I-I…" Kakashi yanked down his mask, all his hopes and fears showing plainly on his face even as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"I…I just…okay." His face crumpled, his hand tightened convulsively over his. "Just…okay, all right?"

Like the first few tentative rays of sunrise at the break of dawn, realization was slow to come to Iruka.

But when it did, it seeped down into the very core of his being, radiating to fill every corner with such warmth and light, he couldn't help but wonder how he could feel so happy at the jounin's answer when his heart hurt to watch Kakashi cry like this. He bit his lip, his heart constricting.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arms around the distraught jounin and pulled him close.

Kakashi clutched at him with the desperation of a drowning man to a piece of driftwood, as if he was terrified Iruka would vanish the moment he let go. He buried his face in his shoulder, his tears soaking into the collar of Iruka's shirt.

Kakashi clung to him for a long time after that, his lean frame shaking with silent sobs.

Only when the jounin fell into an exhausted sleep, did Iruka let his own tears come.

He sat rubbing at his damp cheeks with one hand, trying not to disturb Kakashi while he slept, feeling strangely like laughing as he looked down at the pale bandaged hand that still clung so tightly to him even in sleep.

On impulse, he bent and dropped a light kiss on the back of Kakashi's hand. A wordless promise to cherish and protect this person who had grown so dear to his heart.

They made an odd picture, he knew, smiling fondly at the jounin as he tucked the blanket gently around him.

But for the first time since he woke up almost a year ago, his entire world was right again.