Title: Deliverance

Author: Sasha

Rating: PG13 (just to be safe)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. The characters and the song, all belong to their rightful owners. Don't sue.

Summary: It wasn't the summer heat that brought them together for a few, fleeting moments. The insomnia and the pain that Tsunade deals with after her brother and lover's deaths finally take a toll on her and the only person who understood her more than anyone else just happened to be there to lend a shoulder to cry on.

Inspired by: my maternal grandmother's recent death. Popo, your memory lives on in mama and me. Thank you for being so good to my mom.

A.N. – I fabricated some (okay, most) parts of Tsunade's history. I know her brother and lover (his name escapes me, but he's not an important character at all) died but I don't remember when so I just put them together as having been deceased in the same year (you know, to add to the general sense of sadness that she has to deal with). I also said that both Tsunade and Jiraiya were ANBU members. They may have been at one point in time, I just let it slide. Don't tell me that this and that are wrong because I'm well aware of that. Just focus on the angst and love of this fic.

Also, I didn't intend for this fic to include Switchfoot's wonderful song "I Dare You to Move," but I threw it in because it kind of fit the mood. If anyone thinks it doesn't, I can easily remove the song from the story.

It's not old people sex, so don't worry!
Summer heat and insomnia brought them together in a run-down bar of the seedy side of Konoha. Cigarette smoke enveloped the two childhood friends sitting at the bar.

"So how's life?" Jiraiya asked, using a finger to draw random patterns in the condensation of his beer.

A sigh.

"What kind of question is that?" Tsunade asked, frowning a little.

He looked at her strangely. "Well, in other words, how is your life, as in how are you, how is work, how is the home situation, et cetera," he smugly clarified. She simply rolled her eyes in response.

"Uneventful. I haven't done anything constructive in a while. You think after becoming an ANBU that we'd have work to do, but I'm on my ass most of the time," she sighed. Jiraiya smiled a little lecherously.

"Would you rather be on your back?" he asked, leering. She scoffed at him.

"I grew up with you. No chance in hell," she simply replied, draining her beer and motioning the bartender to give her a refill.

He looked at her. Normally he was used to her barb-laced comments because she was right- they had grown up together, trained together, worked together; she wasn't the same person anymore. He could tell just by looking at her that something was different… off.

A rowdy person in the darker corners of the bar sauntered up to where they were sitting and drunkenly placed a groping hand on Tsunade's hip. Before the drunken man could cry out in pain, Tsunade had broken said hand and went back to taking sips of her cold beer.

"What about you?" she suddenly asked, "not that I care," she added a little spitefully, though he definitely knew that this time she wasn't out to insult him.

"Same. Maybe it's because we just became part of ANBU and there hasn't been much conflict going on between villages," he said, shrugging. She nodded slowly.

"By the way," he started, draining his glass as well, "what are you doing in a place like this, at a time like this?" he asked, assuring himself that it was out of pure curiosity. Surely he didn't care why she was here…

Tsunade pushed a blonde strand of hair obstructing her view of the shiny countertop.

"Couldn't sleep and it's so hot so I had to get something to drink," she explained, waving a hand.

Jiraiya knew that it wasn't the heat but definitely the insomnia that drove her to a place like this. Two years ago her brother and lover died.

"I'm sorry," he offered softly. She looked at him questioningly, trying to muster up a different look in her eyes, anything that didn't speak about the sadness that she couldn't seem to get over.

"For what?" she asked a little angrily. He looked at her from the corner of his eye, his head facing straight ahead of him because he was sure that if he had looked into the despair and loneliness in her eyes, he'd drown.

"Nothing," he said.

The clock on the wall told them that it was well past two in the morning and that the bars would be closing soon. Jiraiya stood and threw some coins onto the counter, thanked the bartender and slowly turned to leave, still keeping an eye on the woman whose gaze had drifted spacily to the drops of water and various alcoholic liquids on the surface before her.

"Get some sleep. Goodnight," he said before turning fully and heading to the door. Tsunade didn't make so much as a peep and kept her eyes affixed to the liquid patterns left by his drink.

She needed to get away from this. She needed something else, something that could take away the pain through some other way. Alcohol could only do so much and most of the time, she drank herself to near unconsciousness to escape the pain that wrenched at her heart nearly twenty four hours a day.

Gulping the last bit of her drink, she did the same as Jiraiya and left the bartender a little something extra for goodness knows what; even she didn't know. But she left and in the darkness, somehow spotted a shadow that could only be Jiraiya slowly making his way back home.

"I don't want your pity," she called out, somewhere between a sob and declaration. Before she knew it, tears had escaped and he had caught her, saving her knees from hitting the dirt beneath her.

He didn't say anything because he knew words weren't necessary. Tsunade was by no means a stupid woman. She was extremely intelligent, driven, and a little more than egotistical, but Jiraiya was also the only person who knew her this well, other than deceased brother and lover. This time, words were not necessary.

Tsunade sobbed into his chest, twisting her fingers into the material of his clothes. His hand held her head gently against him and he just let her cry because for all the time that had passed since her loved one's deaths, she hadn't shed a tear.

The only words that escaped his lips were reassurances. He promised to be there for her, as he always had been and that she knew better than to keep her feelings bottled up. There was something else he desperately wanted to say, but now was not the time, nor was it his place to say anything that Earth-shattering.

I love you.

How much pain could follow those three simple words? He couldn't possibly add such a burden to her weighed-down shoulders. He also knew that she would never be able to return his feelings. If she could, it would be half-hearted as her heart only belonged to the man who died and took Tsunade's heart along with him.

Several long moments passed and the two remained together in the middle of the dirt road. It was peculiarly quiet and no cicadas sang their songs, no crickets chirped. Just the soft gust of occasional summer wind and the smell of grass passed the two friends. For a long time Tsunade did nothing but weep, her sobs having long worn her vocal chords out. Yet, she couldn't put an end to the tears, despite how much her eyes hurt from the rubbing.

Before she could gently wipe her eyes, Jiraiya had made the decision for both of them and hauled her up in his arms, swaying just a little from not having used his legs in hours. Hooking an arm under her kneecaps and another around her shoulders, he held her sideways against his chest and made the short trek back into the heart of the city and towards their apartment complex.

"I need the key," he said softly. Tsunade nodded and reached into her pocket to pull out a small key ring with four keys. He unlocked her door and carried her to her bedroom. Without a word, he had her tucked in and smoothed the furrows in her brow before saying a soft 'goodnight' and leaving her to rest.

She fell asleep as soon as her bedroom door shut.

Jiraiya stuffed his hands into his pockets and sauntered up the stairs to his apartment on the third floor of the apartment complex. Fumbling with his key, he pushed his way in and dragged his tired body to the couch because he knew that he wouldn't make it to his own room.

"I don't pity you," he mumbled before welcoming the blackness of an exhausted sleep.
Tsunade frowned in waking as the sun shone brightly in her face. She turned on her side, her back facing the window, but it was futile as she was already awake. Her head hurt a little, but what hurt more were her eyes. Gingerly, she reached up and touched cool fingers to the swollen and red flesh around her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and puffy and she sighed, remembering how she acted last night.

'What the hell did I just do?' she thought. She had cried in Jiraiya's arms; wordless, gulping sobs.

"Oh God…" she moaned. She was supposed to be strong, but she broke down like some weak woman at such an inopportune time, with the last person she wanted to see her break down into a sobbing mass of skin, bones and tears.

Grabbing the corner of the night-table for support, she pulled herself upright and slowly, achingly made her way to the washroom to bathe away last night's ordeal.
Jiraiya nursed a hot cup of coffee as he sat by the large window in his living room. Konoha was waking and people started to emerge from their houses, men kissing their wives goodbye for work, young children being led to school by elder siblings, gatekeepers greeting early morning visitors. He wanted to be a part of that kind of society. Despite his job and his years of previous training, he really only ever wanted one thing: happiness. The kind of future he dreamed for himself was filled with a wife, children, and peacefulness. Somehow, he just didn't see any of that as a possibility. Being part of ANBU, being a shinobi, didn't leave room for liabilities such as family. He couldn't burden a woman were he to die, though the thought of someone loving him as much as he loved them was something he wanted more than his career, almost more than anything else.

Of course, as tragedy would have it, the woman he loved didn't love him back.

Finishing the last of his coffee, he made his way to the washroom to shower and get dressed for work.