Chapter Two

Fix, Repair and Mend

The rising sun roused Hinata from an uneasy sleep. She rose reluctantly from her pillow, her muscles and pounding head protesting the slight movement.

She felt groggy and wrung out, a bit nauseous and exhausted.

Throughout the night, she woke up a few times to check on Sasuke, who was still out of it. Now fully awake, reality came crashing down; she was still alone with an unconscious injured nin and her husband was nowhere in sight. She cast her patient a worried look, then reached out to check his temperature. His forehead was warm but not overly so, still no fever but she didn't really want to keep relying on luck.

It was beyond necessary to obtain Naruto's assistance and guidance.

She quickly changed into a purple pair of leggings and a gray long sleeved top. Buckling on her black sandals, she headed through the forest into the city.

After getting married, she moved into a small two-storey wooden house tucked away in the outskirts of Konoha. It was located in a forested area several miles away from the city. The location of the house was perfect for a couple in need of privacy. Naruto was happy the village had finally accepted him, but the constant attention from his newfound fanbase began to take its toll on his well being. Hinata on the other hand was attracted to the isolated home because it gave her the opportunity to escape her clan's ever watchful gaze. She had hoped that distance would give her the freedom to live life the way she wanted, but now she knew that loneliness was worse than constant scrutiny.

She walked with the heavy flow of morning traffic, smiling at those that smiled at her, waving at those that called a greeting to their First Lady. The friendly energy followed her all the way to the steps of the Hokage Tower, and even inside, she was greeted by more welcoming faces.

Politely she nodded her head in greeting at a group of shinobi leaving the Hokage's office. After the final member of a three man squad of jonin exited the room, she slipped inside.

"Nara-san," Hinata easily suppressed her surprise at finding the Hokage's advisor seated behind her husband's desk.

Shikamaru offered a brief glance and nod of his head in lieu of a verbal welcome and resumed reading the file in front of him, "Hinata, how may I help you?"

Hinata glanced at the large, round clock on the far end of the office. It was only a few minutes past 10 am. Way too early for Naruto to have snuck in a visit to Ichiraku's.

"I'm here to see Naruto. Did he step out?"

Shikamaru's eyebrows moved downward in a quizzical manner, "He left this morning on a diplomatic mission to Kumogakure."

Hinata noticed that Shikamaru didn't return his gaze to the folder, his calculative eyes remained glued to her. The shock and dismay of being left in the dark was not something she would willingly admit to her husband's advisor. Feigning a countenance of nonchalance, she nodded her head, "Ahhh, right. It must have slipped my mind." She then donned a bright smile to paint a picture of a happy wife. "He told me before, but can you remind me of how long he'll be gone for?"

"A couple days or weeks. Depends on how quickly things progress."

Hinata chewed on her lips anxiously, "Thanks. Anyways, sorry for the intrusion. Have a good day and please tell Temari-san I said hello."

She then bowed and quickly exited the room, gripping the knob as she composed herself out in the empty hall.

In the ensuing silence, the Hokage's adviser sat back in his chair, staring thoughtfully at the closed door.

"Mendōkusei," he muttered beneath his breath.

Shikamaru was no fool, he was aware of Naruto's poor communication skills and the toll it was taking on his marriage. Clearly his friend and boss had forgotten to mention the mission to his wife.

Shikamaru sighed while pondering what his wife's reaction would be if she were in Hinata's position. He very much doubted that Temari would respond as gently as Hinata for an honest but inconsiderate mistake. He would probably end up sleeping with his herd of deer for the same length of time that he was away on the unmentioned mission. Naruto was fortunate to be married to such a kind and understanding woman. Shikamaru only hoped the village hero was cognizant of his luck.

A knock on the door signaled his next appointment had arrived.

" Sucks for Hinata. But I'm not getting involved ." Shikamaru thought to himself as he rose to greet his guest.

Hinata stood at the base of the stairwell outside the Hokage Tower. She felt lost and without options. The frustrations she felt towards the lack of communication in her marriage was tucked away, as the fear of Sasuke's wellbeing took precedence. She could probably obtain a few supplies at the local pharmacy, but Sasuke's condition called for advanced medical attention.

She was left with no choice but to seek out professional care.

A few feet from the sliding glass doors of Konoha's medical emergency department, Hinata's hurried strides came to an immediate halt at the sight of strawberry coloured locks tied together in a loose, low ponytail.

Hinata knew that all she had to do was take a few steps toward her husband's teammate and her recent troubles would be over. But Sasuke's weak but adamant voice echoed through her tired mind, " Don't call Sakura, get Naruto."

During this internal debate on whether or not to respect his request/demand, Hinata hadn't realized how quickly Sakura was nearing her current location. Panicking, Hinata rushed to the closest object she could use to conceal her presence.

"Don't forget to send the prescription down to the pharmacy for Mr. Higasa's blood pressure medication," Sakura instructed a young woman, who Hinata assumed was a medical student. The student enthusiastically agreed and hurried back into the hospital.

From her vantage point, Hinata observed as Sakura removed a thermos from her satchel and brought it to her lips. A frown appeared on thin pink lips, "I can't drink this lukewarm swill." Sakura proceeded to dash the unsavory beverage into the large clay pot that Hinata had selected as a hiding spot.

Hinata lightly shrieked at being doused in warm coffee.

Green tired eyes moved to Hinata's direction, "Hinata is that you?"

Hinata emerged from behind the plant pot, pating dry the coffee stain on one of her tops, "Ohayo, Sakura-san."

Face slightly tilted and hands on her hips, Sakura asked, "Were you hiding behind that plant pot? From me?"

Hinata's round eyes grew wide and she glanced at the pot then back to Sakura, "No, no. Uhhh, one of my important medical documents flew out of my bag, I thought it was behind the pot." Hinata was surprised at how quickly she came up with that lie.

"Did you find it?" Sakura stepped to the side to inspect if any documents were on the ground.

"No. The wind was very strong before you came out. But it was just a list of a few medical items I needed to request from Tsunade-sama. " At least that wasn't entirely a lie as Hinata intended to seek the renowned medical nin for help with Sasuke.

"Tsunade is in surgery today.. Maybe I can help you? My shift ended but I can run back in to get what you need." Sakura ushered HInata into the waiting area.

Hinata, against good judgment, decided to use her father's name. Her reasoning behind it was that he was older and the lie would be more believable, "Father got a bit carried away when training with Hanabi. He cut himself really badly and didn't tend to it in time. I was hoping to get some antibiotics and painkillers."

Sakura nodded her head in understanding, "I know how stubborn and careless our old folks can be. I'll grab it for you. I can give you a course of antibiotics for a week, but you'll have to get him in to get Tsunade to assess the wound to determine the exact treatment." It was already established that Hiashi would not be treated by anyone but the best in the field.

Sakura left Hinata in the waiting room, and returned a few moments later with a white paper bag.

"Give him a dose of two antibiotics each day, and there is acetaminophen for the pain. You can get something stronger when he comes in. Ohh, and I got you a topical antibiotic, in case he needs it for the wound. But make sure he comes in to see Tsunade."

Hinata offered her thanks and both women exited the medical building.

Hinata returned home close to lunch. Outings to the village were very time consuming because of the lengthy distance, but today it took her even longer than usual. Her normal brisk, purposeful speed was severely impacted by the lingering hangover pounding a drumbeat at her temples and adding subtle weight to her sluggish limbs.

As she stepped through the front door of her silent home, she slipped off her sandals in the foyer then proceeded to the living room which was adjacent to the kitchen.

Surprisingly, Sasuke was in neither of these rooms.

The living room and kitchen had floor to ceiling windows which provided an unobstructed view of her backyard.

She peered out of the clear glass, searching for dark hair and pale skin.

He also wasn't outside.

"He has to be upstairs. Maybe he needed to use the bathroom and didn't notice the powder room behind the stairs?" she thought to herself.

A thud from above affirmed this assumption.

Hinata ran up the stairs with the newly acquired items in hand. Entering the bathroom she nearly tripped on Sasuke who was found lying on his left side. It was a pitiful sight. With a missing left arm, he unsuccessfully tried to use the stump and whatever energy he had left to pull himself off of the floor. Dropping her procured items, she quickly knelt down behind him and heaved him up from the floor and onto his bum.

"I should have been faster," she murmured.

"Do you need me to help you?" She asked, gesturing toward the toilet, quickly calculating that was the reason for his trip up the stairs.

"Hn."

She took that as a yes.

They spent long minutes forcing him to his feet, his arm thrown over her slim shoulders, his weight heavy above her smaller frame. Locking her own muscles, Hinata walked the injured man to the toilet.

"I'll be right outside the door if you need me," she told him quietly, then pulled the door slightly closed, leaving it cracked just enough to give him privacy.

After he relieved himself and she believed it was safe to return, she placed his right arm around her neck and led him to sit on the ledge of the bathtub. "Please sit here, I need to check your wound. I hope the fall didn't cause more damage or tear your stitches apart."

The fall combined with the physical effort he exerted while climbing the stairs had indeed inflicted more harm, his neat stitches were torn, and his skin was smeared in fresh blood. She knew that post-surgery care required patients to limit physical movement as much as possible in order to avoid this very outcome.

"Sasuke-san, we need to get you professional help, your wound reopened and needs to be re-sutured," She dabbed it gently, clearing away blood, noting the angry red of his torn skin, "We should go to the hospital." Hinata once again doubted her amateurn medical ability.

He extended his in-tact hand, "Just get me some alcohol. I'll clean it myself, then I will leave."

A worried frown touched her lips, "You don't have the strength to walk on your own and have been unconscious for hours. I don't think you're in any condition to leave. A wound like this isn't going to heal overnight. This is a very serious injury, please, let me take you to the hospital."

He dismissed her advice, "I don't need a hospital. I can take care of it on my own. Where is Naruto?"

Despite the seriousness of the current situation, the frustration of her husband's unexpected departure returned.

Busying herself with dabbing more blood from his abdominals, she answered, "Naruto-kun is away on a mission right now. He may be gone for several days."

He was displeased with the news, she could tell by the way the corners of his mouth turned down.

"Hn," he grunted, taking the cloth from her to wipe at the wound himself.

She opened her mouth to once again plead for a hospital check-up, only to run into the full brunt of his glare.

"Alcohol and a suture kit," he prompted, "I can stitch it myself."

That sounded like a terrible idea and not just because he only had one arm to work with. Seeing no way out, Hinata relented.

"Okay, I'll try to re-suture it myself," she conceded, "but it's going to hurt."

And hurt it did.

He was a good patient though, he didn't complain or even flinch, completely silent throughout the procedure, but his muscles felt like steel beneath her fingers, his jaw so tight it made her own ache. When she finished, she could tell he was beyond exhausted and in significant pain.

"That should hold," she told him and herself, gently dotting away excess blood, "but you really have to be more careful, Sasuke-san. I wish you would reconsider going to the hospital, and I respect your choice not to, but at least rest for a while. Your body really needs time to heal, you can rest in our bedroom. We have a guest room, but Naruto's turned it into a home office so it might be a bit too cramped.."

He didn't verbally agree, nor deny her proposal, so she took both as acquiescence.

She glanced over his tattered, bloody clothing and haggard face.

Nervous energy touched her fumbling fingers as she hesitantly suggested, "I wiped most of the dirt and blood off of you last night but, maybe you'd be more comfortable after a proper bath and a set of fresh clothes. I'm sure Naruto has something you can wear."

He gave her an enigmatic glare, one that made her a little uneasy and a touch shy.

His direct gaze reminded her of her husband's intense regard, a silent observation that left her feeling pinned on the spot and unable to hide, although, where Naruto's was often bright eager enthusiasm, Sasuke's was dark hawkish assessment.

Instead of responding to her offer, he reached for the hem of his shirt, and began pulling it upward.

She reached for him, stopping his disrobing.

His look wasn't the least bit enigmatic this time, a noticeable scowl touched his face.

Hinata willed her cheeks to stay pale as she retracted her hands, "sorry," she apologized, "um, it's just, taking your shirt off that way might put strain on your injury, if you put too much strain on the stitches, they might tear again."

She reached for the first aid kit, and dug out a pair of scissors.

First, she removed the remaining pieces of his shirt, slicing it right down the middle in the front and on both shoulders. He shrugged out of the ruined material, dropping it to the bathroom floor.

She eyeballed the next article of clothing, the silent thrum of embarrassment rearing its ugly head.

Sure, they were both adults, and these were extenuating circumstances, but this was still a man in a state of undress she had only ever seen her husband in. It was…weird and really uncomfortable. Like she was seeing something she really shouldn't be.

She let him unzip his trousers, only involving herself when he struggled to pull them off.

As they tugged on the clinging material, he kept a close eye on her. She figured it was because of all the unwanted attention he received from his still existent fanbase, or maybe he was just as uncomfortable with this intimate situation as she was. Whatever was at the heart of his discomfort, his distrustful eyes on her face made her more nervous. She tried her best not to blush in embarrassment- which she thought might be misconstrued as lust.

She helped him turn his body, fixing his lithe form to sit facing the inner ring of the bathtub, lifting each of his long legs and carefully placing them inside.

She turned on the faucet, adjusted the temperature then let it run. A quick, but unnecessary trip to the hall closet granted her a small reprieve from the heavy tension. There were towels and wash clothes she stored in a cabinet inside the bathroom, clean and ready for use, but she needed a moment to breathe, to gather herself for just a moment.

Feeling calmer by the time she made her way back, Hinata sat the towel on the sink, took a seat on the ledge, turned off the water, and dunked the wash cloth.

She handed it to him, murmuring, "for your face."

He took it and wiped his skin clean, removing dirt and blood from his cheeks and chin, revealing a few more knicks and cuts. There were a few minor scratches on his right cheek and a very angry, very fresh looking bruise on his left cheek, a direct result of his fall.

She absently noted the wispy eyelashes adorning his eyes, wet and clumped together, they looked long and thick.

" He's definitely prettier than me, if he were female I am sure Naruto would have been his number 1 fan " she thought to herself with a coil of amusement.

When he finished, she took the cloth back, swirled it clean in the ankle high water and reached for the soap bar.

She worked silently, lathering the cloth until foamed, before turning to him.

With gentle, careful strokes, she cleaned crusted blood and debris from his well-defined but slender torso, trying her best to ignore his hardened nipples that were reacting to the warm stimulation of the washcloth. She moved over his shoulders, the corded muscles that made up his right arm, and the less toned nub of his left. Moving on to cleaning his legs, she noticed another scattering of minor cuts and bruises decorating his flesh, but nothing that needed further care. Trying to avoid another unwelcomed automatic reaction to stimulation, she decided against cleaning his upper thighs. Instead, she handed him the washcloth, then promptly rose from the tub, clutching the fluffy towel with her back turned to him.

He quickly caught on.

She listened with a reluctant blush as he struggled out of his undergarments and finished his "sponge bath", cleaning his upper thighs and intimate area.

When she heard him drop the wash cloth with a wet plop, she handed him a towel with her eyes closed.

She counted to sixty and back again before risking a peak.

Sasuke was decent, but held the ends together with a shaky hand, he looked tired and pale, his body slightly listing to the side.

Worried, Hinata took the ends of the towle at his hip, tied a knot and helped him turn again.

Once again, hooking her arm under his shoulder and making sure his towel was secured, she led him to the room and placed him on her bed. She helped him into one of Naruto's cotton Yakutas, the only one unbranded by vivid orange, then covered him with a blanket.

His breathing was slightly labored, just that short walk had taken a lot out of him.

"I'll make you some soup," she told him, "rest for now. I won't be long."

She returned 20 minutes later with a warm bowl of soup on a tray alongside a cup of tea. She sat it on the bedside table, then helped the injured shinobi prop himself up into a sitting position, tucking fluffy pillows behind his back for extra support. Once he was up and stable, Hinata placed the tray on his lap.

"Do you need any help eating?" she questioned.

"No." he muttered, picked up his spoon and he used his remaining arm to eat.

After he was finished, she offered him a painkiller and an antibiotic tablet. He popped them both with a swallow of tea, she took the tray as he pulled the extra pillows from behind him. He lowered his body into a comfortable recline and by the time she had taken the tray down to the kitchen and returned, he was fast asleep.

Throughout the day and night, she frequently checked up on him. Touching his forehead for signs of a fever, making sure he wasn't in need of another painkiller.

He slept like the dead, passing long hours in dreamland.

Rest was good for healing, so she took his heavy sleeping as a good sign that his recovery going forward would be much more favorable. She dropped a tatami mat on the floor next to the bed to situate herself in close proximity on the off chance he took a turn during the night or needed help using the bathroom.

For the next two days, she continued to monitor, feed and administer his meds during the brief time he was awake. Even with rest and medications, his energy level was abysmally low. He struggled to sit up long enough to eat, and the trip to and from the bathroom was so taxing, she'd opted to use a bucket as a makeshift bedpan to allow him to relieve himself. His struggles were indicative of an injury such as his, but even so, she couldn't help but worry about his poor condition.

Several times, she urged him to give the hospital a chance, and each time, found herself rebuffed and glared at.

On the fourth night, she was startled awake by a miserable moan.

Rubbing a tired eye, Hinata rose from her palet on the floor and hovered over her patient, dismay filling her chest as she took in a sweaty, Sasuke thrashing back and forth on her bed.

His skin was flushed with fever, coated in a fine sheen of sweat and blistering hot to the touch. Dark hair stuck to his face, his lips parched, and he was muttering to himself, his face contorted in the throes of some horrible nightmare she couldn't begin to fathom.

His movements were sharp and forceful, as though he were fighting some unseen beast.

Worried he'd tear his stitches, she nudged him with what she hoped was enough force to bring him out of the dream, "Sasuke-san," she called softly, "wake up. You're having a bad dream."

He twisted, knocking her hand away in the process, grimacing as he kicked off the sweat soaked bed sheet. She reached for his hard shoulders a little more forcefully and placed her cool hand on his very warm collar-bone - it was a little trick she used to shock Naruto into waking up after a heavy night of drinking.

Suddenly, Sasuke jerked upright, dark eyes open but as she looked into them she could see there was no one there.

He was delirious, his body functioning but his mind still asleep.

She was a beat away from trying to rouse him from his semi-conscious state when a big hand wrapped around her slender throat. A violent force of pressure brought an abrupt end to her air supply, and in less than a second, Hinata found the life being squeezed out of her.

The former kunoichi brought both hands to the hard arm systematically strangling her, clawing at the inhumane vice on her throat. She didn't understand where this sudden onslaught of strength came from, and she really had no time to figure it out as she struggled to maintain airflow to her lungs.

"Stop. Sasuke, stop," she choked out fragmented wheezes, her fingers digging into his forearm.

He was unresponsive and resolute, his grip unmoveable. She mustered all the strength her assailed body could generate and activated her Byakugan. Locating a few chakra points in his forearms, she gente fisted his arm into pliancy.

With a deep intake of oxygen, energy slowly seeped back into her system. Trembling fingers swiftly jabbed two points at the base of his neck, effectively rendering him unconscious. His body slumped forward and started tipping to the side. Hinata wrapped both arms around his body to keep him from tumbling from the bed before gently guiding him back down so that his head was comfortably braced by the pillow.

The physical contact heated her body. She brought the back of her right hand against his forehead.

He was burning up.

It was exactly what she was trying to avoid by administering the oral antibiotics - infection. This confirmed his erratic behavior. He was likely experiencing a fever-induced nightmare.

Obtaining help was never a choice before, it was merely a matter of doing so in a discreet manner, but this episode reinforced the direness of Sasuke's condition.

She would observe him for the next hour or so, until she was comfortable that he wouldn't unknowingly put himself in harm's way, tomorrow, she would seek out Tsunade or Shizune.

Sasuke would get the intervention he needed, and she would be able to keep her unspoken promise to him by not involving his former teammate.

xxxxxx