A/N:

            Betcha didn't expect me to update so fast! *Grin* I've been planning this scene for quite a while already, and Princess Lily's found time in her busy schedule to help me edit it (Thanks Lil!) and wala! Here you have it.

            Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, you guys are the real drive for this story. Well, that and Gerrick, my muse. Don't you just hate it when all the ideas come to you in the shower, where you can't jot anything down and by the time you get out you've forgotten half the things you've thought of.

            Err, I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy! (Important A/N end of chapter, just cause I don't want to spoil this ahead of time)

Chapter 4 : Visiting Old Haunts

There was a sensation of liquid; dark, slick, viscous. Hard to move. Couldn't breathe. Fire in her lungs. The need for air was burning them away.

Surface.

Cool air met slick, wet skin as she burst through the murky surface, gasping for precious air. The unbearable stench was like a physical slap to her senses, aggravating the dizziness brought on by oxygen deprivation.

Her throat constricted, bile leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

She needed to get out.

Fingers scrabbled at stone made slippery with muck and slime; she panicked when they couldn't find purchase.

They had thrown her into a well. A circular well. And there was blood, and gore, and it stank of raw sewerage and death. Her clothes stuck to her skin, more so from the thickness of her surroundings. There were lumps trapped in between the folds of her kimono, and she had to force herself not to think about them.

Chances were, she wouldn't like to know about it.

A sob caught halfway up her throat; this was her fault! Hadn't Aoshi said she would be safer if she stayed? Why did she have to go and try to escape? He had told her something like this would happen.

He had known…

"No!" The word rebounded off the stone walls, the echo forlorn to her ears. She would rather die now, rather than continue using her skills to take life from others. She was meant to be a healer, not a murderer.

Yes. She would rather die. And she would. The water, if the liquid ooze coagulating around her could even be called that, was already bringing a chill to her limbs. She could not feel her legs, and she knew it would not be long before she would sink back under wretched surface.

And she prayed she would die soon, for she knew that if she didn't, her resolve would waver and the whole cycle would start over again.

           

Blue. Black. Red. Lots of red.

Cold.

Shivering uncontrollably, she stared bleary-eyed at the men who had hauled her out of the well. She would not shower them with thanks and gratitude for saving her from that literal hell hole. They were, after all, the ones who had dunked her in there in the first place.

A voice. A question? She transferred her dark gaze onto the man who appeared to be talking to her. She didn't bother straining her ears to listen to, for her, words so slurred together that it ended up as a single low murmur. It also seemed angry.

The tiny bit of her mind that was still alert and unaffected by the drowsiness of the cold knew that he wanted to know something important. Perhaps something like, oh, how to make opium.

It appears her talents were quite well known.

CRACK!

Red. Lots of red.

A pathetic mew roused her from unconsciousness. It sounded scared, desperate, helpless. And oh-so-familiar.

She forced an eyelid open, grimacing at the stabbing pain that accompanied the action. Obviously, something was going to swell overnight.

Despite her blurred sight, she managed to make out a kitten dangling from a man's hand. The kitten stared back at her, all white save for one ear marked black and the other orange. Another pathetic mew as the man mockingly swung it side to side by the scruff of its neck.

-If you're so desperate as to want my company, I'll get you a cat-

"…no…". The sound that cracked past her mouth gave her reason to shudder. She sounded just like the kitten.

Recognizing her mistress lying on the floor, however much bruised and soaked she was, the kitten mewed louder. The hopeful plea sounded horribly like the cry of a child to its mother.

"Leave her alone". Despite the abuse inflicted on her, she could not help but growl out the words. In the meantime, she wondered. Did the kitten follow her after she was kidnapped? All she remembered of the time was that the moment she went around the corner, someone had grabbed her arms and hit her over the head. The last thing she had seen was the kitten scampering into the bushes, having jumped from her arms.

How ironic, a voice said dryly in her mind, escape from one tyrant only to be caught by another.

The man, apparently the leader, seemed to ignore her whilst the rest watched with interest. "Isn't that the girl's pet?" one drawled, "Was with her when we found her on the streets".

The cruel laugh did nothing to reassure her.

The bundle of fur was thrust into her face. She killed the smile that threatened to split her face as a small rough tongue rasped against her skin, made tender by the numerous cuts and bruises marring it.

"Isn't that sweet", a sarcastic voice spoke up right next to her ear.  "Just makes me wanna fucking cry". A chorus of laughter accompanied his last words.

A twinge of fear.

"Take a good look, bitch".

"NO!"

A shrill screech of pain was abruptly cut off. Hotness struck her cheek, her hair, her clothes. A limp bundle struck her chest to fall into her lap whilst a separate thud hit the wall behind her.

Megumi stared at the headless body of the kitten lying in her lap. Staring at the rich red marring the once snow white coat. The deep red dripping off the matted fur and onto her own clothes. The thick red smearing onto the floor as the body slid onto the cold floor with a sickening thump.

Tears prickled the corners of her eyes. 'You were my only friend… you and…'.

A cry of rage tore out of her as she launched herself at the man. A shout of masculine laughter and she felt something hard strike her side to send her sprawling onto the floor. A rip as her kimono caught on something, and she felt searing pain in her side. Probably a cracked rib, to compliment her newly scraped knees.

And there was pain. There was a lot of pain.

Dimly, she heard the sound of the door open. Dimly, she heard the laughter die down. And dimly, ever so dimly, she heard a cold voice, cold and sharp and laced with the promise of death.

And freedom.

"Megumi? Megumi, wake up".

He had just finished writing a letter and had been readying himself for sleep when he had heard screaming across the hall. A microsecond was all it took for him to assess the situation and respond. Large hands grabbed his trusty kodachi by his bedside and he was out the door even before the ink on his letter dried. If the attacker was who he thought it was, time was of the essence.

So imagine his surprise when he barged into Megumi's room to find her pale and drenched in sweat, deep in the throes of a nightmare.

It also did nothing to diminish his anxiety.

"Megumi, wake up!" Gods, but her skin was burning to the touch. Little wonder she was sweating as much as she was.

Apparently he was not the only to be alerted by her screams; several heads poked into the doorway, each and every one of them alert for danger. Even Okina was there, battle-worn steel tonfers at the ready in his hands.

Aoshi didn't miss the surprise in everyone's faces at finding him in Takani Megumi's room, but did not pause in issuing his orders, "Fetch me a towel, a bowl, a cup and a pitcher of water". A couple of waitresses nodded and hurried off. Turning back to the hyperventilating woman, he shook her gently, calling out her name.

Her eyes shot open then to reveal heavily dilated pupils. Her voice was now totally devoid of the self-assurance and calm she was so well-known for, "A-Aoshi?" Strands of her dark hair clung to her face, but she paid them no heed as she buried her face into his shoulder, erupting into grief-stricken sobs.

Arms automatically returning the embrace, he frowned in confusion as she choked out, "Take me back, Aoshi! Don't kill them, just take me back please!".

He just barely heard Okina's voice quietly instructing the waitresses to leave the items by the door, before shooing everyone away. He barely even registered Misao's tentative, "Aoshi-sama?" and Okina's soft advice to leave them alone. All he knew was that Megumi was suddenly crying for help and that she had turned to him.

It felt all too familiar.

"Shh. Quiet, Megumi", he muttered, wondering what had triggered this. He stroked her hair carefully, remembering the action usually brought comfort when he had found Misao waking up from nightmares when she was younger.

It worked. Her hysterical sobbing died down. Her hands, which had been clutching to his shirt as though it was her only lifeline to sanity, began to relax. "They killed her, Aoshi", she whispered, words muffled by his shoulder. "They killed her. There was so much blood. She bled so much".

The gears of memory clicked into place then. An uncharacteristic flare of anger flashed through him, ice blue eyes darkening to storm grey. Those bastards be damned. "It's alright now, Megumi". When he spoke his voice was compassionate as he recalled the state he had found her in. Bruises marring her normally pale, flawless skin, bloody, and drenched head-to-toe in god-knows-what. The fear emanating from her had been palpable. And what had been the final straw was the body of a kitten at her feet – the very one that he had given her, the very one that had led him to her – with its wide-eyed expression of fright watching him from several feet away.

The fury he had felt then was immeasurable and even now just thinking about it made his hands itch to take hold of a weapon and kill every single one of those bastards who had inflicted those things on her.

"Megumi, it's ok now".

"They killed her! She was my only friend… she didn't care that I killed other people! She… she…", her voice choked on the word, "She kept me company when I was lonely…".

This time he remained quiet, aware that she wasn't listening to him, and that the best course of action would be to let her cry it out, and say what needed to be said. God knows that at that time she had been too exhausted to say anything and had simply collapsed into unconsciousness. He had to stay by her side for the next few days to make sure she was alright.

"Everyone I run into ends up dead. Whatever I do people die. Whatever I don't do people die…", the rest of her words dissolved into more weeping, but this time it was quieter. More under control.

Then, "We have to bury her", came her subdued whisper.

"Meg, she's not here". His attempts to point out the obvious backfired when she lifted her head to stare at him in shock.

She pointed a shaky finger to her side, her whole self starting to sway from side to side, "She's right there!" Her voice had gone hysterical again, "She's right there! Right there!!"

"Megumi, calm yourself!" The command was pure reflex as he seized her trembling hands. If it was any possible, he himself was starting to panic. What was wrong with her?

A moment later, he was aware of a gentle pressure running up and down the fold of his yukata. One of her tiny habits; when deep in thought, her fingers would subconsciously engage in some sort of repetitive movement. Obviously, having untangled her fingers from his, the fabric of his clothing was the next closest thing she could grab. "Aoshi…" her voice was strained, as though talking was an effort. "Where am I?".

Strange question, but he decided it was a good sign. At least she was making an attempt to connect with her surroundings. "You're in the Aoiya. In your room".

She shuddered slightly. "Aoiya? Was… was what just happened… was that a dream?"

"A memory", was his quiet reply.

A soft exhale – her breath was warm against the skin of his neck. "I'd rather it was a dream, then". The words were soft, so much so that he had hardly caught them. "I hate this".

He knew. And he knew it was also his fault. If only I had kept a closer eye on her, or… he gave himself a mental shake. If only, if only, if only. The world was filled with them and it didn't need him to add more to its list. Besides, there was no use dwelling on what had happened; Himura Kenshin had shown him that much. What best be done would be to improve the future, if you can't improve the past.

What words of comfort could he offer her?

"Megumi, I know".

Dampness was starting to seep through his shirt. Gently, he lifted her away and placed a concerned hand on her forehead.

High fever.

Instructing her to lie back, he gathered the items by the doorway and shut the door. After making sure she had drank at least two cups of water, he placed a damp towel on her forehead to lower her temperature. Surprisingly, there was no protest from the lady doctor, only a meek request for more water.

Musing to himself, he wondered what had happened. She had been fine before the night had fallen, so why the sudden onset? Unless… his lips hardened into a grim line as he made a mental check-list in his mind. Cold sweat. Dilated pupils. Visions. Obvious disorientation. Hyperventilation. The only thing he could think of that would explain those sudden symptoms was that she had taken a drug. But how?

Her small voice broke through his thoughts, "Aoshi?" He gave her a nod to show he was listening. She gave him a tiny, tired smile, "No more blood on your cloth. I promise".

The memory of that evoked a rare smile from him, "You cannot promise things beyond your control".

She sighed, seemingly about to rebuke him but was defeated by sheer exhaustion. Long eyelashes fluttered, before finally settling down to hide her eyes. A drowsy command of, "Stay", was the last thing she managed before she fell asleep.

The smile remained, albeit a little sadder now. Drugged. Little wonder why she was suddenly so open. Noticing she was still shivering, he covered her with some extra blankets before padding over to the windows to make sure they were firmly shut.

There was a small rustle outside.

He paused, debating quietly with himself, then gave in. He pulled the window open and announced quietly into the darkness, "I will not give her up that easily".

An angry silence met his words.

Satisfied, he shut the window firmly and made his way across the room to the wall closest to Megumi's futon. He had yet to discern whether or not the culprit was really a drug, but it was the most likely scenario.

Maybe Megumi would have some notes on this. After all, she is a doctor.

A moment's survey located her black medicine bag, and another moment later he extracted a small notebook from its depths. He allowed a small smirk at that. Even the renowned Megumi couldn't possibly keep track of all those drugs and concoctions of hers in her head.

Settling against the wall, he laid his kodachi next to him. The night wasn't so bad, he reasoned to himself. After all, he had a comfortable room, an attractive, if comatose, woman to share it with, and bed-time reading.

And if worse came to worse, then maybe he'd be getting some sword practice as well.

Really, now. It wasn't so bad.

Oohhh… Gods, but her head hurt! Why was trying to wake up so hard on the brain? She gave a light sigh, then a tiny grunt as she forced her eyes open.

A small whimper – damn, but the light was bright! She grimaced and burrowed her head further under the blanket. Blankets. Blanket-s-es. However many she had heaped on herself.

Wait a minute. Why the hell is there so many? And why is this so goddamned familiar? And why oh why am I swearing so much?

She sat up then, not caring that the movement cued her head for extra woozy and sent a delayed memo to her stomach with detailed instructions to heave.

She suddenly felt the weight of a pointed gaze fall on her.

Should I? If I open my mouth I might just disgrace myself, and my clothes. Exactly how hard is it anyway to get vomit off fabric? But… oh, but why not.

She turned to flash a suggestive smirk to the silent warrior sitting against a wall, "Really now, Aoshi. Why settle for the wall when you can sleep with me?"

He snapped the small book – her book, she noted with a momentary frown – shut and gave her a single look-over. As she had predicted, he refused to rise to the bait. Instead out came a, "How do you feel?"

Was that a note of worry she was hearing? Were her ears deceiving her? "I'm touched, Aoshi. I really am. Why the sudden concern? And", she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why are you reading my notes?"

Imagine her alarm when she suddenly found him right next to her, warm hand pressed against her forehead. This close up, she could see his eyes were the smoky blue shade that normally signified a great deal of worry. This close up, she could practically feel the heat radiating from him. This close up, if her eyes dipped downwards, she could see the tanned skin of his chest.

Ok, Meg. Better not go there. No. No matter how tempting.

"Your fever broke", he announced, sitting back to regard her with those enticing smoky eyes of his. She had a sudden urge to tug on the adorable fringe hanging over his eyes.

Oookkaay Meg. Get a hold of yourself. What on earth is wrong with you?

"Wha…?". Hmm. Her fever wasn't the only thing that broke. Apparently so had her articulacy.

"You had a high fever last night".

A slender eyebrow arched over skeptical eyes, "Did I now? Then why do I feel perfectly fine?". Damned if I'm gonna let him know I feel like throwing up my toenails. Seeing his skepticism, she added a haughty, "And is that your excuse for creeping into a lady's room?".

A moment of contemplation produced a serene, "Sometimes, Megumi, I don't need an excuse".

She allowed herself a small grin, "Admit it, Aoshi. You love these talks as much as I do". She gave him a fond pat on his head before climbing to her feet.

Don't sway don't sway don't sway don't – She tripped over a bowl of water. DAMNIT!

Managing the iciest voice she could, she snapped, "Tell me Aoshi. Why is there a damned bowl of water right next to my bed?".

Her sudden mood change prompted him to calmly point out, "Someone had to tend to your fever". Now his eyes cleared into a sky blue; obviously he was very amused. Hearing the ever composed Takani Megumi curse out loud was a pleasure few have experienced.

Before she could tell him off, he continued, "If you are sure you are fine, perhaps you could start tending to patients today. I have some men in need of your attention. Misao will be happy to assist you".

"If that's the case, I suggest you get out right now and let me go bathe in peace". Come on, just get out already.

A small twitch of his thin lips hinted he knew what was going on in her mind. He bowed his head briefly to her, collected the items brought the night before, along with his kodachi, and left. Just in time too, as she couldn't hold her stomach back any longer and retched into the conveniently forgotten bowl.

Well, how was that for a little background? Sissi, how did you guess?! *Grin* Please review, everyone, and let me know what you think!

Oh, and the important news. I'm going to incorporate Aoshi and Megumi's past into this story as it continues instead of writing a separate prequel. But, if you want I can write a one-shot with a bit more detail into it. I'm sorta doing it anyway just to see how it goes, but if you really want it I'll post it up once I'm done.

Let me know in the review or you could email me.

Once again, thanks for reading! And a heads-up *AKA Shameless plug* There's another fic I'm working on which is another Aoshi/Meg. Check it out, why don't you? :D