Sakura watched the sun rise from Yamato's apartment while stifling a yawn that threatened to unhinge her jaw. The man had fallen asleep twenty minutes ago after an evening of textbook withdrawal symptoms. Yamato had spent the night vomiting, shivering on the bathroom floor, and experiencing a state of near constant anxiety that left him unable to rest. Or, maybe the insomnia came from fear of facing his nightmares. Yamato refused to talk about them, and Sakura hadn't pushed. Not that they'd had time between the trips to the bathroom.

Even though Yamato was asleep, it wouldn't be considered restful by any stretch of the imagination. He tossed and turned on the bed, clutching the blanket to his chest like a life preserver. His pale face had grown more sunken with each bout of vomiting. Sweat dappled the man's forehead, either from the recent spell of dry heaves or his body's struggle to regulate itself. Sakura hadn't asked when Yamato ate last, but it couldn't have been recently.

Since Yamato was resting for at least a few minutes, Sakura made her way to the kitchen. She hadn't been lying when she'd said that he was going to feel worse, but some sustenance might help him fight through it. At least, it would if Yamato could keep it down. The remaining beers, a couple of questionable takeout containers, and some wilted vegetables waited in the fridge. The cabinets yielded even less: a packet of rice and three protein bars that were the flavor of honeyed cardboard.

A tin on the back of one shelf caught Sakura's eye, and she shoved the rations out of the way. Four or five packages of teas were tucked away in the corner, a thin film of dust forming on the top. Sakura snorted in amusement at the unexpected find. Somehow, the idea of a man who drank herbal tea and abused alcohol didn't connect in her mind. She scanned the ingredients until she found one that had ginger near the top. The root had natural anti-nausea properties that would help with vomiting once Yamato got it into his system.

Continuing to rummage through the kitchen, Sakura came up with a tea kettle and filled it with water. While waiting for that to heat, she cleaned up the bottle tops and dirty glasses from the previous night. Sakura retrieved the sake and cup from the living room as well, and washed the latter. She considered tipping the alcohol down the drain, but decided that it wasn't her decision to make. If Yamato was serious about getting clean, he needed to take that step himself.

The whistle of the tea kettle pulled Sakura from her thoughts. Before the sound could wake Yamato, she removed it from the heat and filled a mug with hot water. When Sakura dropped the tea sachet inside, soft green and gold unfurled in the liquid. She considered making a second cup, but wasn't sure how long Yamato would sleep. It wouldn't take long to fix one when he woke, so she waited for hers to be ready and carried it to the living room.

As she settled on the couch, Sakura considered the next steps. She still had to determine the full extent of Yamato's struggles. Nightmares, alcohol, and stimulants were a given, but she was fairly certain that it went deeper than that. He had opened up a little bit, but there was more work to do. Yamato would eventually need to talk to someone, after detox. They'd made it through the first twelve hours, but the next seventy-two would be harder.

Sakura had read about addiction and recovery, of course, but not in enough detail to help Yamato as much as she wanted. She would need to stop by her office and pick up some books to help them muddle through. Even without in-depth study, Sakura knew that Yamato needed a bare minimum of a week to fully detox; she couldn't put off presenting her findings to Kakashi for that long.

While telling her former mentor about Yamato's condition should be the easiest part of Sakura's job, he was close to her patient. She couldn't ignore the pained expression on Yamato's face every time that the Hokage's name came up. While Sakura doubted that Kakashi would fault Yamato for his circumstances, she didn't blame the man for wanting to save face in the eyes of an old friend. That meant Sakura would need to be creative while keeping Kakashi away long enough for Yamato to complete his detox.

After Yamato had purged the many substances from his system, Sakura would have to transition him to more traditional therapy. Ino would probably get involved at that point, or someone like her. Sakura wasn't qualified to do a full psychological exam, as much as she wished she was. Chewing on her lower lip, she wondered if Yamato would go along with that part of his treatment. If not, Sakura would be forced to explain everything to Kakashi and let him decide the next steps.

Sakura yawned again, deciding that was a problem for another day. For now, she wanted to curl up on the couch and steal a few hours of sleep. The previous night had been a blur after Yamato woke from his nightmare. The two hours that Sakura had managed before it hadn't been enough. A headache buzzed through her temples like an angry bee, insistent and growing stronger by the moment. She thought there might be a little caffeine in her tea, but it wasn't enough to hold the pain at bay. The ginger hadn't helped the sick feeling in her stomach, either.

If Sakura pushed through, she could get a jump on her plans for the rest of Yamato's treatment. Except, she couldn't leave him alone, not yet. They hadn't talked much beyond the urgency of needing the toilet to vomit or wanting a drink to wash the taste away. Thankfully, the former had grown less frequent toward morning. Yamato's body had nothing left to spend, not that it realized that yet. The dry heaves continued in an almost predictable pattern. It had been at least an hour since the last-

As if on cue, the sound drew Sakura from her stupor of half sleep. Sighing, she drained the rest of her tea and carried her empty cup to the kitchen. The water was still warm enough, so Sakura poured another for Yamato. She found him on the bed after his latest spell of trying to empty his stomach. The man cradled his head in his hand, groaning against the pain rampaging through it. When Sakura stepped into the room, Yamato blinked at her through bleary eyes. "You're still here."

Sakura hummed in agreement and held out the cup. "The ginger will help settle your stomach until I can get you something stronger."

Yamato closed his hand around the cup without looking at the murky liquid. "Something stronger?"

The beginnings of hope stirred in Yamato's voice as he lifted the tea to his lips. He paused halfway and made a face, lowering it back to his lap so quickly that some of the liquid splashed over the rim of the cup. Apparently, his body didn't like the idea of calming tea in place of the alcohol it wanted. Sakura settled on the edge of Yamato's bed. "If you level with me about the substances you've been using and the amounts, I can find something to make the detox easier. But, you have to be honest. Prescribing the wrong thing is as likely to kill you as help you."

Yamato set the cup of tea untouched on the nightstand beside him and propped himself up against the headboard. He looked worse than Sakura had ever seen with pale, sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes. She sighed. "You're already having tremors and nausea, and they're not going to get better. In a few hours, your body will start trying to regulate itself without alcohol. Heart rate, blood pressure, and temperature will spike. You won't be able to sleep or shut down your body's hyper awareness of everything. All of that is just the alcohol detox. If there's something else—"

"I know," Yamato growled, voice rough as unpolished stones. "I told you this wasn't the first time I'd been through it."

Sensing that sarcasm would only make Yamato shut down further, Sakura held her tongue. If he already knew the hell that was detox, why was he putting his body through it a second time? She raised an eyebrow to indicate her curiosity, but remained silent. Yamato shrugged as if the words that came next were inconsequential. "I wasn't much older than you are now. Team Ro had been on a string of bad missions. I'd watched four teammates die in the course of two weeks, one of them by my command."

The words didn't match the empty expression on Yamato's face. Sakura had no idea what to say to the revelation, so she remained silent and let him finish. When the moment stretched into discomfort, he shrugged. "Kakashi pulled me back from the edge, helped me through detox, and covered for me with the Sandaime."

Understanding bloomed in Sakura's chest, followed swiftly by pity. "That's why you don't want to tell him. You don't want him to know that it happened again."

"Something like that." Yamato closed his eyes and tipped his head against the wall. Sakura was struck by how young the man beside her looked. It was more than the casual grey t-shirt and navy sweatpants, more than the lack of armor. There was something deeper, something about the vulnerability of Yamato allowing her to see him this way. If their situations had been reversed, Sakura wasn't sure she would have let him stay.

The man continued without opening his eyes. "The last one was a month long bender that I barely remember."

As the pieces began to fall into place, Sakura realized that she didn't like the picture that was forming. "And, this time?"

Yamato sighed, soft and reluctant. "The better part of two years with varying degrees."

Sakura fought to keep the surprise from reaching her face, but it didn't matter. Yamato didn't look at her; he kept his eyes shut as he made the confession. Her stomach sank. The man had been completing S-rank missions for two years while his life fell apart around him. The timeframe bothered her, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

Yamato cracked one eye open, gauging Sakura's reaction. "I used soldier pills to keep from sleeping for days at a time. When I crashed, I still had nightmares, so I drank until I passed out. It was functional."

"Functional," Sakura repeated. Her mind reeled at the word. "Functional right up to the point that you gave yourself a heart attack? How many were you using?"

To Yamato's credit, he didn't flinch away. "Enough to get the job done. One or two at first, a handful more recently."

Sakura sat stupefied, trying to understand how a man who she knew to be intelligent and conscientious could think that taking a handful of pills was a good idea. A single soldier pill was potent enough to keep a shinobi on their feet for two days before their body succumbed to exhaustion. Sakura couldn't begin to imagine the damage that five or more of the tablets could do. Except, she could. The evidence had been staring at her in Yamato's elevated blood pressure and heart rate, in his moodiness and inability to sleep. Nausea tightened its grip on her stomach.

Forcing out a breath, Sakura inclined her head. She didn't trust herself to thank Yamato for sharing that information, not yet. Wanting to confirm a theory that had been brewing in her mind, Sakura reached out and caught Yamato's wrist. He flinched back, but he didn't pull away. Nodding to herself, Sakura pressed her fingers against the man's pulse point and counted the beats. She frowned at the number. "You didn't have time to regulate your heartbeat that time, did you?"

Yamato exhaled an almost laugh that neither confirmed nor denied Sakura's theory. The rapid rise and fall of the man's heart rate during his stress test suddenly made more sense. Sakura wanted to hit him, to pummel him for using Anbu tricks to mess up her results, but she linked her fingers together and counted to five under her breath. She stifled the fear that he'd taught the trick to anyone else. One problem at a time. "Are you taking anything else?"

For a moment, Yamato considered the question. Sakura braced herself for another revelation, but he shook his head. "No, nothing else."

"Good." Sakura nodded and pushed to her feet. "Here's what we're going to do. If you're serious about getting better, you're going to dump out the rest of your alcohol, then turn over the soldier pills you have left."

Something dark flitted throughYamato's eyes, but after a moment, it passed. Struggling to his feet, he stumbled toward the dresser. Yamato opened one of the drawers, lifted out a pouch of pills, and dropped them into Sakura's palm. He slid another bag from a second drawer, then retrieved more from the backpack that leaned against the wall. Sakura followed the man to the bathroom where a package nestled in a corner of the medicine cabinet. The final bag hid on a high shelf in the kitchen.

Sakura didn't comment on the number of pills that Yamato had secreted around his apartment. It wouldn't help anything. Getting rid of the tablets seemed to give the man enough sense of purpose to hold the nausea at bay for a time. He paused by the bottle of sake that Sakura had moved to the counter. She waited in silence, letting him wrap his head around throwing out the alcohol that had been his comfort less than twenty-four hours before.

Yamato spun the top off of the bottle and tipped it over the sink. The liquid splashed into the drain, it's unmistakable scent flavoring the air. He lingered after the alcohol disappeared then sighed and emptied the beers in rapid succession. "Okay, now what?"

"Now," Sakura answered, turning the tap on to wash away the sticky residue of alcohol, "you're going to go take a shower, if you feel up to it. I'm going to the hospital to get a few things taken care of, then I'll be back to help see you through the worst of this."

Yamato let the counter take the majority of his weight as he turned to Sakura. "I'll be fine if you—"

"I'll be back in two hours at the most," Sakura interrupted. Yamato's lips pressed into a line that could have been annoyance or thankfulness as he nodded. "Try to sleep if you can, or do something to take your mind off things. I'll be back soon."

The tiny amount of caffeine from the tea that Sakura had found in Yamato's house wasn't nearly enough to keep her going for the rest of the day. It wasn't like fifteen minutes was going to make much of a difference either way, so she stopped by her favorite coffee shop. Steamy, frothy drink in hand and caffeine singing in her veins, Sakura stepped into the hospital. A few of the nurses offered quick nods of greeting, but they must have recognized the urgency in Sakura's step, because no one stopped her.

Sakura had almost made it to her office when a familiar voice called out. "You're late, by a couple of hours, actually."

"You do remember that I'm your boss, not the other way around. Right?" Sakura turned with her key in hand to offer Kazuko an exasperated eye roll. She knew that the man was joking, but the lack of sleep made her more irritable than usual.

Sakura took a sip of her coffee to clear the exhausted haze from her eyes, then nodded. This was a good thing. She needed to talk to Kazuko anyway; she just hadn't thought about it until now. "Actually, I'm not going to be here for the next few days, maybe longer."

Kazuko frowned, then understanding entered his pale eyes. "Shinobi business, I assume?"

Unlocking the door, Sakura nodded. She hadn't given much thought to prioritizing her patients the way that Tsunade had done. The older woman had seen her expertise as a resource to be used when necessary, but conserved at the same time. That was why she'd left most of the administrative duties to Shizune. Sakura could have done the same, run the hospital from her office rather than being hands on with patients. In theory, anyway. Sakura could never ignore someone who needed help, even if it meant running herself too thin.

Kazuko followed Sakura into her office. "Do you need anything from me?"

Sakura set the coffee on the edge of her desk, and shook her head. "Just do your job and keep this place running smoothly. I'll have my pager if you need anything."

Sliding into her chair, Sakura began opening drawers to rifle through the scrolls that she'd stored there. As she pushed the third out of the way, it occurred to her that she might need a better organization system. The treatise that she wanted was hidden behind a plan for increasing the number of medical shinobi available for missions that Sakura had started outlining weeks ago. She laid the scroll on top of the desk.

Kazuko scoffed. "As if I'd do anything else."

The words sounded more playful than angry, but Sakura tipped her head toward the man to be sure. Kazuko's gaze slid from Sakura's face to her neck, and he frowned. "You're bleeding."

Sakura's hand shot to her neck and was met with the crusty fabric where her blood had dried. She hadn't even thought of changing clothes. Waving a dismissive hand in Kazuko's direction, Sakura shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

The lines around Kazuko's mouth deepened as he tried to determine whether or not Sakura was joking. To be honest, she wasn't sure herself. "Fine," his shoulders raised in a shrug. "But, try to take care of yourself too. You look like hell."

"Just what every girl wants to hear," Sakura answered, barely containing the urge to stick out her tongue. Sure, she still wore yesterday's rumpled clothes with a bit of blood and vomit on her, but it wasn't out of place for a hospital. The reminder sobered Sakura enough to send a wash of gratitude through her. At least someone cared about what was going on in her life. "Thanks."

Kazuko nodded without seeming to realize the change that had come over Sakura. "Well, I guess I better get back to work, then. You know, since you're leaving me to do everything."

"Yeah, yeah. My heart is breaking for you." Sakura crossed to her small bookshelf and began to scan the spines for ones that might offer some insight. Kazuko didn't answer, shaking his head and closing the door behind him when he left. Sighing, Sakura picked out two more books to go with the scroll, then slumped into her seat. A few minutes to make sure that there were no pressing issues in her inbox, and she'd be done.

As she secured the research materials in her bag, Sakura considered her next problem. She needed to write Yamato a prescription to ease the withdrawal symptoms. But, all of the medicine in the hospital was meticulously logged and inventoried at regular intervals. She couldn't simply remove medicine without a reason. Well, Sakura could, but she wasn't going to. If anyone ever traced the numbers back to her, she'd never be able to work in medicine again.

Chewing her lower lip, Sakura worked through the possibilities. As long as she didn't flag Yamato for high risk behavior, no one except her would have any reason to look in his medical file. There were half a dozen different medications that would help with the first couple of weeks of detox. Sakura researched and cross referenced information on the computer, comparing the side effects and possible interactions of each medicine before selecting the two most likely to help Yamato. The first would get him through detox, and the second would help him sleep after.

Sakura made the necessary notes in Yamato's file, wrote the scripts, then set them aside. She'd pick those up before leaving the hospital, but there were a few other things that she needed to take care of here. Pulling her bag from the floor, Sakura took out the soldier pills that she'd confiscated. She considered the pile for a moment, then locked it in a drawer of her desk. Eventually, Sakura would need to get rid of them, but for now, having them away from Yamato was good enough.

Last but not least, Sakura dug out the report that had been waiting in her bag for days. A few keystrokes later, and she'd rewritten her letter of recommendation. She'd spent a great deal of time trying to figure out how to get Yamato on medical leave without drawing questions and thought that she'd come up with a reasonable deception. But, she wouldn't be sure until she tried to convince Kakashi. As much as Sakura wanted to obsess about every angle, she didn't have time.

After printing the new report, Sakura stopped by the pharmacy and filled the prescriptions that she'd written. Then, it was on to the most difficult thing that she'd have to face in her time away from Yamato: talking to Kakashi. Nervousness flooded Sakura's stomach. mixing sourly with the coffee that she hadn't finished as she waited outside the Hokage's office. Genma and Raido flanked the doorway, discussing something that Sakura had tuned out of ten minutes earlier.

Sudden silence pulled Sakura's attention from her thoughts. A familiar, senbon-studded smirk caught her gaze. "Can Hokage-sama see me yet," she asked, acutely aware of how long had passed since she'd left Yamato's apartment. She was running out of time.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Genma snorted, raising an eyebrow at Sakura's tone. "But, you were lost in a daydream. Not that I blame you, of course. I'm terribly distracting."

Despite the seriousness of everything that had happened since yesterday, Sakura laughed as she stood from the chair where she'd been waiting. She flashed a tight grin at the incorrigible flirt. "Keep telling yourself that."

Raido coughed into his elbow, undoubtedly hiding a laugh at the good natured banter. Sakura had gotten to know the pair of men during their tenure as Tsunade's guards. Genma's notoriously flirty nature was countered by Raido's more serious one, but they worked well together. The former came up with a quip to Sakura's words, but she didn't hear it. She swept between them and into the Hokage's office as she'd done so many times before.

Sunlight streamed through the windows behind Kakashi's desk, making it difficult to see the man in the chair. Sakura blinked a couple of times, allowing her eyes to adjust. "You're here early," he mused, tucking away the book that he'd been reading. Sakura didn't need to see the cover to know which it was.

"My shift started," Sakura paused and glanced at her watch, "four hours ago."

"And yet, here you are." Kakashi's voice carried a hint of amusement that Sakura didn't understand. "What can I do for you?"

Reaching into her bag, Sakura pulled out the report that she should have brought to Kakashi two days earlier. She pushed the medication and books a bit further to the side lest she accidentally reveal incriminating evidence as she did so. Drawing a subtle breath to prepare herself, Sakura laid the paperwork on Kakashi's desk. The man glanced down long enough to read the title, then brought his eyes back to her face. "Well?"

"That's the report on your Anbu," Sakura began, knowing that Kakashi expected her to verbalize her findings rather than reading them. He tipped his head in that infuriating manner that said he was waiting for the rest of an answer. "Several members had medical issues that needed treatment which could be completed in or out of the village. I'd recommend putting two others on temporary leave. It's all in the summarized notes at the start of the report."

Kakashi didn't reach for the paperwork that Sakura had laid in front of him. His grey eyes held her gaze, looking for something that she refused to show. "Which two did you suspend?"

Sakura almost laughed at the idea that she had the power to suspend Anbu. At most, Kakashi would listen to her suggestions and act accordingly. At worst, he would ignore them. Sakura couldn't formally put someone on leave against the Hokage's wishes. She started with the easiest revelation first. "I've suggested Saiyo be placed on hold pending a psychological evaluation by T&I."

For a moment, Kakashi didn't speak. His eyes revealed nothing as he inclined his head, and Sakura found herself wondering if he knew the woman as well as Yamato did. The thought raised a blush on Sakura's cheeks as she considered her accusations from the other night. She certainly hoped that Kakashi didn't know Sayio that well, or any of his Anbu for that matter. Despite being good friends with Yamato, Kakashi hadn't seen the problems he was facing. There was no reason to assume that he understood Sakura's reasoning for Saiyo, either.

As Sakura watched her former sensei, she recalled what Yamato said last night, that Kakashi only behaved standoffish and aloof to protect himself. Could he be putting distance between himself and Yamato because he cared too much? Sakura knew what it was like to lose people, to make the decisions that decided life and death. Every mission that Kakashi accepted could be the same as signing a friend's death warrant. She was thankful that she didn't have to make those choices on a daily basis.

Kakashi laced his fingers together over the report. "And the second?"

"The second is Yamato-taichou." Sakura made herself match Kakashi's unwavering gaze. The slight widening of his eyes spoke of surprise, if not shock, but she didn't look away. As uncomfortable as this conversation was, time off was undoubtedly the best thing for Yamato.

The silence stretched between them, tension on the point of snapping, then Kakashi exhaled. "We talked about this," he began.

"Yamato's blood test showed a rebound infection from his earlier course of antibiotics." Sakura had rehearsed the lie so many times on the way to Kakashi's office that it sounded convincing, but she couldn't let herself linger lest he see through it. "The next round will be stronger, and considering Yamato's recent injuries, I want to make sure that his body responds well to it."

Kakashi tipped his head to the side, studying Sakura. She wondered which tell he was waiting for her to show, but she remained impassive. The lie was wrapped up in enough truth that it would hold water unless someone with a medical background looked into it and saw the prescriptions. Yamato had recently been on antibiotics; it was possible that the infection had come back when he finished the first round. It hadn't, but only Sakura knew that.

"How long?" An undercurrent of disbelief ran through Kakashi's voice, but he didn't question the diagnosis.

Sakura breathed an internal sigh of relief. "At least a week to start with. If he's doing well after that, I see no reason why he can't return to active duty."

As much as Sakura wanted to lock Yamato away until he got the proper help that he needed, she couldn't do so without divulging his status to Kakashi. A week would get them through the worst of the physical detox. Then, she would have to deal with the psychological and emotional sides of it. Hopefully, Yamato would be more amenable to revealing his struggle to Kakashi by then. If he wasn't, Sakura would deal with that problem when she came to it.

Lifting the report, Kakashi leafed through the pages without speaking. Sakura left him to it. After a few minutes, he dropped the papers on the desk and raised his gaze. "Should I be concerned?"

For one aching moment, Sakura considered unloading all the complicated emotions and worries that filled her. She wasn't sure that she knew enough to help Yamato, she wasn't convinced that he wanted help, and Sakura felt overwhelmed on multiple fronts. Kakashi would know how to fix things, that was his job.

Do you still believe that, mocked a voice that Sakura hadn't listened to in a long time. She knew the thoughts were wishful thinking. Once upon a time, as a star-struck, naive genin, she'd seen Kakashi as something of a god. All jonin were. Now that Sakura bore the title, she knew that he was as human as the rest of them. Kakashi wouldn't know how to fix this any better than she would, even if he acted like he did. That was the price of the robes he wore.

"No," Sakura shook her head. "He should be fine in a week or two."

The lie tasted bitter on Sakura's tongue, but she couldn't betray Yamato's trust. Not so soon after earning it. Kakashi studied her for a long moment, then nodded and put the report away in one of the drawers. "Thank you."

Sakura bowed her head, trying to still the nervous pounding of her heart. "Of course, Hokage-sama."

After leaving Kakashi's office, Sakura headed to her apartment for a change of clothes and a few things that she thought might be helpful. Sakura had to stop at a couple of other places on the way back to Yamato's. She checked her watch a dozen times as she rushed from building to building, aware that she'd missed her estimate by at least an hour. Thankfully, Sakura didn't run into anyone that she knew who would slow her down with inconvenient conversation.

Three and a half hours after she'd left Yamato's apartment, Sakura let herself back in with the keys that she'd swiped from his dresser. Her back ached from the heavy bag slung over her shoulder and the ones in her hands. She had picked up enough to stock the shelves and fridge in case Yamato felt up to eating. Carrying the groceries through the darkened apartment, Sakura dropped them on the counter. Everything would be fine long enough for her to check on Yamato.

Sakura had left the curtains drawn, and Yamato hadn't been out of bed long enough to open them. She frowned around the room that looked identical to when she'd left. Though she hadn't thought that Yamato would be up to training, she'd hoped that he felt good enough to move to the couch. At least he wouldn't notice how long Sakura had been gone. "Yamato?" She called as she walked toward the bedroom.

Easing the door open, Sakura peered into the gloom. Yamato was curled on the bed in a fetal position with his knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around them. Chills racked the man's body, or he was rocking back and forth, but Sakura couldn't tell which from the doorway. She padded closer to the bed, shocked at how much worse the man looked. The waxy paleness of his skin clashed with the bruise purple and red around his eyes. No matter how much she had read about detox, nothing prepared her to watch someone live through it.

Yamato mumbled something too softly for Sakura to hear as she approached the bed. Frowning, she pressed the back of one hand to the man's forehead. She jerked back with a hiss. "You're burning up."

Dark eyes flicked open at the touch, but they were glazed and unseeing. They slid shut. Sakura didn't need a thermometer to know that Yamato's body was far hotter than it should be. She'd been aware that his temperature could spike eventually, but the change was more than she'd anticipated. Biting her lip, Sakura weighed the pros and cons of waking Yamato from his fitful sleep. He might become violent again, but it would be much easier to move him if he were semi-conscious.

Yamato batted at Sakura's hands, trying to push them away when she shook him. His eyes opened a second time, blinking through the haze of fever dreams. He made a questioning sound in the back of his throat. "Come on," Sakura encouraged. "We need to get you into a bath."

"N-n-no. 'M fine," Yamato muttered, attempting to fend off Sakura's touch.

Snorting under her breath, Sakura dragged Yamato's arm over her shoulder and pulled him into a standing position. His weight nearly dragged them to the floor until Sakura augmented her muscles with chakra. She wrapped one arm around Yamato's back and pressed the other against his chest. "I can carry you if I have to, but it'll be a lot easier if you cooperate."

Yamato mumbled something else that Sakura couldn't catch, but the shift in his weight suggested that he was trying to help. A shiver stole through the man's body. Lowering her charge to the cool tiles on the bathroom floor, Sakura turned on the water in the tub. She adjusted the temperature several times until she found one that she liked; too hot would raise Yamato's fever more, and too cold would cause him to chill. She needed a comfortable medium.

Content with the lukewarm spray, Sakura wiped her wrist on a towel and looked back at Yamato. He shivered on the floor, grey shirt and navy pants hanging from his body like they were two sizes too large. She knelt next to him. "Come on. You'll feel better once we get your fever down."

Sakura watched the man for several moments, then reached for the hem of his shirt. Yamato cringed backward, and feverishly bright eyes narrowed as he tugged the garment lower. "I am not going to undress in front of you."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," Sakura teased, trying to erase the tension in the room with banter. "I'm a medic, after all."

"Ha, ha." Yamato rolled his eyes and pushed into a sitting position. He removed the soiled grey shirt and tossed it toward the hamper. Nodding to herself, Sakura went to check on the bath. She'd seen Yamato shirtless more times in the past week than she had during any of their missions. His newfound modesty didn't make much sense, but Sakura let it go.

The tub had filled a little over halfway, so Sakura turned it off and checked the temperature one final time. It wasn't warm enough to raise Yamato's fever or cold enough to be uncomfortable. When she turned back around, he stood a few feet away, toying with the string of his sweatpants. Sakura nodded once. "You have two minutes, then I'll do it myself."

A deeper flush pooled in Yamato's already pink cheeks when Sakura passed close, but she didn't make good on her threat. Instead, she walked back into the other room and shut the door behind her. Surely he would get into the water without assistance. Alone again, Sakura exhaled and looked around the bedroom. Nothing had changed since last night, but that wasn't surprising. Yamato was too weak to do much more than stumble from one place to another.

Sakura crossed to the window and threw it open for some fresh air. Next, she dragged the heaviest blanket to the bottom of the bed and set about pulling off the sweat-sodden sheets. The fact that Yamato had been sweating was a good sign, but it didn't mean that the fever was broken. Sakura found a second pair of sheets in the hallway closet. Changing the bed gave her something to do besides waiting. When she was finished, she lumped the dirty linens by the bathroom door.

Remembering her earlier shopping trip, Sakura moved back to the kitchen to put up the groceries. The bags weren't overly full, but the staples would be enough to get them through the next couple of days. It felt strange to be making herself at home in someone else's apartment, but Sakura didn't think Yamato would mind. He understood that she was trying to help. At least, she thought he did.

Another realization occured to Sakura: Yamato didn't have fresh clothes to change into when he got out of the bath. Deciding that they'd crossed enough lines that it didn't matter any longer, Sakura moved back to the bedroom. She started opening drawers at random to find what she needed. One drawer held uniforms. Sakura considered the jonin blues and Anbu blacks, then discarded the idea. While the fabric was comfortable enough, it was a reminder of something that Yamato currently couldn't have.

A second drawer had t-shirts and sweatpants like the ones that Yamato had been sleeping in. Deciding that would be good enough, Sakura laid a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt on the bed. Laughter bubbled in her throat as she considered undergarments. She couldn't believe the turn of events that left her picking out clothing for Yamato while he detoxed in the next room.

Shaking her head, Sakura found a pair of boxers and laid them on top of the other clothing. She'd imagined that she would watch at least one of her teammates fall apart at some point. Shinobi life was difficult; the odds were that they wouldn't all come through it whole. Sasuke had experienced a breakdown at some point, but Sakura hadn't been there to fix it. He wouldn't talk about the years that he spent with Orochimaru, not to her anyway. Naruto's optimism seemed to guard him against shattering, at least.

Kakashi seemed like another candidate for a breakdown, especially now that Sakura saw him more as a person and less as her genin sensei. She'd seen glimpses of the instability during the war and immediately after, but Tsunade had pulled the man into training before he had time to fall apart. Either that, or Sakura had been out of the village and didn't see it. Kakashi seemed to be doing well now, however.

Yamato was the last person that Sakura would have expected to break down like this. He'd always seemed the most stable of the men in Team Kakashi. She still couldn't wrap her mind around everything that happened over the past couple of days. Sakura had lied to Kakashi and kept a secret that she probably should have shared. If anyone looked too deeply, they'd see the way she'd stretched ethics to fit the situation. And, Sakura still didn't know why.

Carrying the bundle of clothes toward the bathroom, Sakura rapped on the door. When Yamato didn't answer in a timely manner, she pushed it open. Water sloshed onto the floor as the man dropped himself lower in the tub. She rolled her eyes and sat the clothing beside the sink. "You didn't have anything to change into," she observed over her shoulder.

Sakura risked a glance at Yamato. His cheeks were flushed under the harsh light in the room, and his eyes were bloodshot. He hummed in agreement and lowered his head to rest on the edge of the tub. "Thanks."

Keeping her gaze on the tiles above the tub, Sakura moved closer. She pressed a hand against Yamato's forehead, then cheek. The warmth was still there, but not as pronounced as it had glanced at her charge "How do you feel?"

"Cold." Yamato's eyes fluttered open and tried to settle on Sakura's face without managing to do so before drifting shut a second time.

"You have a fever," Sakura repeated, wondering how much information the man was able to take in. "I brought some clothes for you to change into when your bath is over, then we'll get you some medicine to bring it down further."

Yamato's grunt could have been acknowledgement or coincidence, but Sakura took it as the former. She gathered the dirty pants from beside the tub. Yamato had apparently shimmied out of them and jumped straight into the bath in case Sakura made good on the threat to undress him. She tossed the garment into the hamper. "I'll let you soak for a bit longer, but shout if you need anything. I'll just be in the other room."

A smile curved Yamato's lips, some amusement that Sakura didn't understand. "I can probably manage to dress myself."

Sakura met the man's grin with one of her own as she paused by the door. "Probably, but the offer still stands."

As Sakura shut the door behind her, Tenzo sank deeper into the cool water. He allowed the tremble that he'd been suppressing to race through his body. He blew out a breath and shut his eyes against the headache rampaging through his temples. Focusing on anything except the pain was difficult, but he'd made the effort to put Sakura's mind at ease. They were friends, he supposed, but they'd never been close. Honestly, he had expected the woman to rat him out to Kakashi at the first opportunity, then wash her hands of the whole situation. But, she hadn't.

Kakashi would have been angry at himself and at Tenzo, furious that he'd missed the signs in his friend and annoyed that Tenzo chose this path a second time. The first detox had been bad enough. Kakashi had lied to everyone for Tenzo, forced him to clean up much like Sakura was doing, then spent months watching Tenzo for any sign of relapse. Some people would have found the attention smothering, but not Tenzo. It was the first time that someone had cared enough to look at what was going on in his life. Anbu leadership had pretended not to see Tenzo racing headlong over a cliff, if they'd noticed at all. Then, everyone had turned a blind eye to the two week hiatus from missions that Kakashi and Tenzo took.

Now, Kakashi was doing the same thing. Tenzo was almost certain that Sakura had gone to deliver her report to the Hokage's office this morning. The fact that Kakashi hadn't shown up in Tenzo's apartment meant that he didn't know the true reason for the man's absence. Kakashi had no idea how much Tenzo's life had fallen apart, and the realization left a painful ache somewhere under Tenzo's ribs. He hadn't expected Kakashi to keep a constant eye on him, he was a grown man, after all. But, Kakashi had been here less than two weeks ago with his easy smile, half questions, and bottle of alcohol like the past had never happened.

Tenzo had been drunk the night that Kakashi came to his apartment, but that had been easy to write off. The mission had been bad enough to justify some alcohol to numb the pain, especially when Tenzo was functional the next day. Kakashi hadn't seen the looming disaster, or he hadn't wanted to. Even Sakura's warnings hadn't tipped the man off. Tenzo had gotten good at hiding his problems. All it took was one well timed tox screen to bring his carefully constructed lies crashing down. Tsunade and Shizune had never thought to run the test in two long years, then Sakura came around and messed it all up.

The anger surprised Tenzo almost as much as the hurt over Kakashi did. Sakura was doing her job, some part of Tenzo knew that, but it didn't make much difference. He hated letting anyone see his weakness, especially a subordinate. Though, Sakura wasn't truly under his purview any longer, if she ever had been. He hadn't thought twice about letting Saiyo see the soldier pill usage or the drinking, though he buffered it when he could.

Shit. Tenzo realized that he hadn't checked on Saiyo after the disastrous night with Sakura. The woman was probably looking for him, wondering why the pink haired medic had shown up and made herself at home in Tenzo's apartment, and waiting for him to train with her. Sparring was the best way to blow off steam in Anbu. Honestly, Tenzo had thought that Saiyo would be the most likely to notice a problem. She'd questioned his soldier pill usage during their last mission, but then they'd literally been blown up and it hadn't mattered. They still hadn't talked about what happened.

Another chill raced through Tenzo's body, reminding him that the next few days were going to be absolute hell. He'd already started to regret turning over his stash of soldier pills and dumping out the alcohol. Glancing at the window on the other side of the room, Tenzo wondered if he could get dressed and slip out before Sakura realized that he was gone. It was only a couple of blocks to the nearest bottle shop; he would be back before she noticed. He didn't trust himself to shunshin in this condition, but scaling a wall shouldn't present a problem.

With that intent in mind, Tenzo rose from the water. Chill bumps erupted across his skin and the room spun. He sank to one knee, fighting the urge to vomit. One hand tightened against the edge of the tub as Tenzo clung to consciousness. Fainting and drowning in knee deep water seemed a poor way to thank Sakura for her care. He sucked a breath into achy lungs. The tipping room grew sluggish then righted itself. Tenzo released his grip on the edge and stood. It took monumental effort to step out of the water, but he forced his body to obey.

Sakura had left a pile of clothes on the other side of the room, safely out of the range of Tenzo's sloshing movements. Tugging a towel from its hook on the wall, he secured it around his waist in case Sakura burst in. He'd already made a fool out of himself in front of the woman often enough over the past month. Dizziness plagued Tenzo when he let the water out of the tub, but he managed to stay on his feet. His teeth clacked together in a chill as he scrubbed a second towel over his chest and arms.

Boxers, pants, and a shirt waited beside the sink, but Tenzo ignored them to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He'd known that he lost weight, but the hollows under his cheeks and eyes were noticeable now. Shaking his head, Tenzo finished drying off, leaning against the counter whenever nausea or dizziness threatened to collapse his knees. When he pulled on the boxers, Tenzo blushed a little at the idea of Sakura searching through the dresser to find them. He had nothing to hide from her, though, certainly nothing worse than what she already knew. But, the exposed feeling left him uncomfortable anyway.

Tenzo sank to the floor after getting his pants on. Putting on the shirt seemed like more effort than it was worth. If Sakura hadn't been waiting on the other side of the bedroom door, he wouldn't have bothered with anything but boxers. After a few minutes, the vertigo passed enough for him to pull the soft, white fabric over his head and walk into the bedroom. It was empty. Using one hand on the wall for support, Tenzo moved toward the living room.

Heavy shadows predominated the room from the thick curtains that Sakura had left over the windows. A single halo of light spilled from the lamp beside where she sat on the couch, notebook open on the arm. She turned as soon as Yamato entered the room, and the pages fluttered shut. "How are you feeling?"

Moving to the opposite side of the couch, Tenzo dropped onto it hard enough to bounce the cushions. "I've been better."

Sakura hummed in agreement, intelligent green eyes sizing the man up. "You should be in bed," she chided, but there wasn't any heat behind the words.

Tenzo opened his mouth to say that he should be on a mission, then closed it. As much as he preferred to keep busy rather than dealing with his feelings, even he could see that he wasn't fit for the field. He scrubbed through his hair, surprised to find it damp from the tub, then shrugged by way of answer.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" Sakura moved closer, pressing her hand against Tenzo's forehead. "Your fever seems to have gone down at least."

The idea of eating made Tenzo's stomach gurgle, and he cringed. Sakura scooted closer and brought her hands to his face. The flash of green from the corner of his vision warned Tenzo that Sakura was using healing jutsu. There was a moment of disorientation when his vision doubled and he thought he might lose consciousness, then the nausea and headache faded.

Tenzo collapsed forward, and Sakura caught him with gentle pressure on his shoulders. He meant to shove into a sitting position, but he felt dizzy and breathless with the lack of pain. Sakura made an amused sound in the back of her throat. "I'd do more, but your chakra levels are all over the place."

"Thank you," Tenzo breathed, aware that he'd been saying that a lot lately. Sakura eased him toward the couch, and he felt the warmth of her leg against one cheek. He tried to complain that his hair was wet or that he was fine, but her fingers brushed through the locks with distracting tenderness. Somewhere, from a great distance away, Sakura said something about trying to rest, but Tenzo's eyes had already drifted shut on their own.