The world was a blur of greys spinning together, making no sense in his mind at all, no clear shapes or edges for his eyes to latch onto so he could orient himself. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping by some miracle that it would make them work so he could focus his vision. There was a brighter light to his right, and he turned his head towards it, making out a square of white amidst the darker greys. A window? It was too damned bright, so he turned the other way, nose scrunching up from the effort of moving his head.
He could feel that he was lying on something soft, and figured it was a bed. When he shifted it creaked, protesting the movement, so definitely not his own bed, that mattress had cost too damned much to do anything as frivolous as creak.
He closed his useless eyes and relied on his other senses. The air smelled of disinfectant, sterile and medical. A hospital, it smelled like a hospital. The hushed voices and footsteps on the other side of wall made that seem likely.
His head ached as he tried to figure out just why he would be in a hospital. It was as if someone had taken a hammer to it. Repeatedly. His brain was useless sludge in his skull, protesting the forming of any thoughts. Something had happened, something bad, but it was hard to separate reality from dreams. A mission? There had been a mission, and something had gone wrong. There had been blood and dead bodies, and then… and then… Naruto had…
It came back to him like a tsunami of icy water, Sasuke's body freezing up at the memories. Naruto losing himself to the beast, ripping that vampire to shreds, and then the purely beastly gaze that swept over him as his hand shot out.
The sharp pain of claws digging into his chest, ripping it open as if he was little more than a paper doll. The look on Naruto's face as he realised what he had done, no longer the beast but Naruto, his Naruto. His chest had been on fire, but he thought maybe the look of utter devastation on Naruto's face hurt more. He had known how bad that was, knew that at that moment they were standing on top of a house of cards. This was the one moment he had to make sure the ground didn't crumple underneath them, but his vision had greyed, and he could feel himself falling, and he knew that it was too late, saw it in the absolute terror in Naruto's face before he saw no more.
The rest of his memories were drenched in pain. Broken whimpers either from himself or Naruto, pressure against his chest, and then the commanding voices of EMT workers before it all washed away into nothing. He'd probably been sedated at that point, allowed to drift into sweet oblivion.
Reliving it made Sasuke feel sick, so he wrenched open his eyes again, and found the world a little clearer around him. It was clearly a hospital room, empty save for himself. The sky was a dim grey through the window, but he had no idea if that meant it was early or late, or even what day it was.
Only when he noted that he was alone in the room did he realise that the one thing he wanted more than anything was to see a familiar blond moron sitting on the chair across the room. He could picture him, probably sleeping, drool on his chin, snoring softly as he waited for Sasuke to get up so he could apologise. Sasuke could scold him, and then they could move on. It was clear that Naruto wasn't nearly as in control of the beast as Sasuke had thought, but that just meant they had to work together to find answers.
There was no Naruto sitting in the chair, and he feared it wasn't because it wasn't visiting hours. Naruto wouldn't have let anything like that stop him from staying by Sasuke's side. Sasuke had no idea what had happened after he drifted into unconsciousness. Had Kakashi come? Was Naruto back at their apartment waiting for Sasuke to get well, was he sitting out in a hallway, bugging all the nurses for information on Sasuke's situation, or…
The clearer his head got the more his chest was aching, making it hard to focus his thoughts. He had been too out of it to notice at first, but now the wounds was definitely making themselves known, and he wasn't surprised when a nurse came in, disturbing his thoughts completely.
She was probably a perfectly nice girl, but Sasuke wasn't in the mood for pleasantries, so he cut off her greeting midways. "Where is Naruto?"
If she was perturbed she didn't show it as she walked to his side, checking the IV bag hanging by his bed, adjusting it slightly. He hadn't even noticed the tube running from it to his arm. He frowned. He didn't like it, didn't like the thought of being so useless he had to be hooked up to bags of who knew what. Hospitals, he didn't like them one bit.
"How is the pain?" she asked, checking what he presumed was his charts.
"Manageable," Sasuke gruffed out before repeating his initial question, cutting off any chattering she might want to start up in the bud.
She looked up from the chart, seemingly considering the question for a moment. "Naruto?"
Sasuke sighed, having no patience, he needed her to tell him that Naruto was sitting out in a waiting room, or that they had sent him home or… "Blond hair, blue eyes, obnoxious personality?"
"I don't think I've seen anyone like that around. There's a Hatake that has been calling for information on your condition?"
Kakashi. He'd know where Naruto was. Why wasn't Naruto here, waiting for him to wake up? Was this some idiotic payback for the time Naruto had ended up in the hospital and Sasuke hadn't come? He'd hit him over the head with something hard if that was the case. He didn't want to allow himself to think for a moment that there was any other reason Naruto wasn't here.
He clenched his eyes shut. He knew Naruto wasn't staying away for some petty payback. If Naruto wasn't here it was because he couldn't be here, and Sasuke wasn't sure he wanted to start speculating why.
"Is Hatake here?" Sasuke asked instead, knowing he needed to talk to him ASAP.
"No, it's six in the morning, visiting hours isn't for a few hours yet."
"Call him," Sasuke stated.
"First we'll have to check your medi—"
"Call him, now," Sasuke said, not opening up for any further discussions on the subject.
The nurse seemed to hesitate for a moment and then she nodded sharply and left the room. No doubt she knew he was an agent and that it might be important.
Sasuke winced as he tried to shift to a more upright position. He felt the dull pain in his chest flare up, and knew he would need some more painkillers, because he had no doubt it would end up hurting like a bitch soon. He would refuse anything too strong, he didn't like how it dulled his mind and senses, but he'd still need something to take the edge off, making him able to focus. He had probably been out for a while already, it was enough. He needed to keep his head clear for now, needed to figure out just what had happened after he blacked out.
He'd probably regret sending the nurse away before he got his medication real soon, but he could handle physical pain for now.
The minutes ticked by while he waited, and it soon became apparent that the pain wasn't his only problem right now, pressure was building in his bladder, bodily functions caring little that he was bedridden. If he'd had a catheter at some point it was long gone, and he figured he was supposed to call for a nurse to bring a bedpan. That was not going to happen. He was not about to have a patronizing woman coddling him like he was still a kid. He was a grown man and he could most definitely get to the bathroom himself. Any surgery he'd most likely had was just a minor inconvenience, wasn't like pissing would demand a whole lot out of him. He peered around the room, noted that there was only two doors. One the nurse had gone through and another one across the bed, slightly ajar. He'd bet all his money it was a bathroom. He eyed the distance critically. Not far at all, but he had no idea how his body was going to react to the walk. Only one way to find out.
With a wince he scooted to the edge of the bed, careful not to rip out the tube lodged in his arm. Slowly he moved his feet until he could find the floor underneath them. It was cold against his bare soles, and he tried not to imagine what bodily fluids had been spilled on these floors before.
He made sure to hold onto the side of the bed as he carefully shifted his weight forward onto his feet. They wobbled, but sheer willpower kept him standing, somehow. He was sure the slightest of breezes would have pushed him right back onto his ass, but lucky for him the windows were closed.
The IV bag was hanging on a rack by the bed, conveniently with wheels, so he grabbed it, and used it as a makeshift walker as he shuffled across the room. His legs did in no way agree with this impromptu exercise session, but he ignored them, taking pathetically tiny step across the linoleum, eyes trained on the door across the room. He damned well hoped it was the bathroom, because if he ended up in some supply closet he would just have to piss in the closest bucket.
The small strip of light that spread from underneath the door became his one goal in life, and after an embarrassingly long time he could finally grab the door knob, twist it open and step into what was indeed a small bathroom. The trip had maybe been a full eight feet, but right now he felt like he had climbed a damned mountain.
He collapsed onto the toilet, silently glad the hospital gown he was wearing was assless so he wouldn't have to deal with having to remove pants. He hadn't peed sitting down for years, but he was not going to do this standing up, he wasn't a damned masochist, and he wasn't stupid enough to think he would be able to do so without falling on his ass. He did not want a nurse to walk in on him, sprawled on the floor in a pool of his own piss.
Finished with his business he stayed right where he was, not quite up to the task of getting back on his feet. The small walk had taken a lot out of him, his body obviously not quite up to its usual standard.
The pain in his chest seemed to throb along with his heart beat, turning from a dull ache to a sharp pain. He could vaguely remember seeing a lot of blood, but other than that he had no idea how bad the damage was. He was obviously still alive, so it could've been worse. He lifted a hand towards the front of the hospital gown, brushing against the edge of the compress that was covered the wounds. Curiously he traced a finger across it, feeling the pain it left when he travelled over a wound.
He had to look, and even if moving his arms pulled at the skin of his chest painfully he got the gown off, the fabric pooling in his lap.
The compress covered the majority of his chest, from his collarbones down to his sternum. He could see where discharge from his wounds had stained them a yellowish-brown colour. They'd probably need changing, and he might as well help the nurses out and remove them. He flicked at a corner, grabbing the tape that fastened the compress to him, and gently started removing it.
The tape pulled at his skin, making him almost nauseous with the slow burning pain, but he kept going, unable to stop himself. He kept his gaze on the wall, knowing that seeing the wounds might just make him stop what he was doing altogether.
When he finally removed the last of the taped down edges he could gently peel away the compress, carefully as to not pull on the stitches. They still stuck to his skin where the discharge had dried, and he had to take a few breaks and just breathe until he could finally throw the bandages away in the trash bin under the sink.
He held his eyes closed and calmed himself before he grabbed the edge of the sink, standing up, his legs nearly collapsing underneath him. Then he looked up into the mirror.
He looked… like shit. His hair was a mess, greasy and matted, lying close to his skull. He had dark circles underneath his eyes and his lips were chapped raw. He nodded to himself, and then lowered his gaze, looking past the shoulders that were the same as always to the new additions to his body.
Reaching from his left collarbone to the bottom of his right rib was four gashes, the skin pulled together with countless stitches, the black thread standing out against his skin. The edges of the wounds were slightly puckered where the thread had pulled his flesh together, and there was redness around them, probably a hint of inflammation. Crusty blood and discharge was caked in spots around the four ragged lines, and fresh blood was beading out a few places as well, probably from him disrupting the skin while removing the bandages.
It was quite apparent that this was going to leave rather prominent scars, and Sasuke could only picture how it had looked before the doctors closed it up. Gaping wounds, blood pouring. Probably a flash of white from a rib or collarbone, the claws would definitely have carved that deep.
Naruto had seen him with the fresh wounds, and Sasuke could only imagine how that felt. He remembered the feeling of seeing Naruto bleeding from his neck after being attacked by vampire months ago, the feeling of helplessness and guilt from not being able to help. If he had blamed himself then Naruto would definitely…
Why wasn't Naruto here? Why hadn't he charmed his way into staying with Sasuke?
Sasuke was afraid he knew exactly why Naruto wasn't here. He remembered Naruto telling him about his past, about people fearing him because he was a shifter, afraid he would hurt them.
Sasuke had seen Naruto shift, knew that in those moments it wasn't Naruto at all, it was as if another entity took over his body entirely, something else living inside him, wanting to be free. It wasn't Naruto who had hurt him, it was this… this thing inside him, but Naruto wouldn't see that would he? No, he would blame himself, blame himself for not being strong enough to keep Sasuke safe.
"Naruto, where are you?" Sasuke muttered to himself, sinking back onto the toilet when his legs started shaking.
Naruto better not have done anything stupid.
Kakashi hurried through white hallways, ignoring the smells that attacked his nostrils right through the mask, the disinfectant bringing back nothing but unpleasant memories. He hated hospitals, they only came with pain and hurt, and this time was no different.
He had gotten a call from the hospital a while ago that Sasuke was stable, wounds closed up, and transfusions replenishing the blood he had lost along the way, and in the car on the way over he had gotten another call saying that Sasuke was awake and wanted to talk to him. Kakashi did not look forward to that conversation, because he knew it would mean he would have to tell him about Naruto.
Finally arriving at the door he had been directed towards he knocked once before he pulled it open, striding inside, mouth opening in a greeting only to find that the room was empty. One of the beds looked unused, but the other had sheets pushed too the side, so it had obviously been in occupied. The occupant was nowhere to be seen though, and Kakashi stuck his head back in the hallway to reread the number sign outside the door, wondering if he had the wrong room.
He didn't.
He looked back inside the room, and noticed the door to the side, cracked open. "Sasuke?" he called out, pulling the door to the room shut after him as he walked inside, heading towards the other door.
He heard what he thought was an acknowledging sound, but still stopped outside. It wasn't hard to decipher what kind of room it was, and he wasn't about to just barge inside.
"You okay in there?" he asked instead, and if the circumstances had been different he would no doubt have made it sound like a tease, but right now he was too worried to do so.
It took a moment before Sasuke answered. "Ah, not… really." He sounded annoyed.
"You need a nurse?"
He was answered with a sigh.
"If you just wait a couple of minutes I'll—"
Sasuke interrupted him, sounding weary. "No, just… come in."
Kakashi pushed the door open, and was greeted with Sasuke scowling at him from his position sitting at the toilet. He looked like shit, bags under his eyes, skin grey and clammy, and his hospital gown hanging off of one shoulder, showing off the top edge of the wounds that marred his chest, skin red and puckered around black stitches.
Sasuke seemed to clench his jaw, as if what he was about to say was difficult, something he was dreading. Kakashi really hoped it wasn't that he needed help wiping, because he like Sasuke, but he'd rather not get that familiar with him. Some boundaries were there for a reason.
"I… need help," Sasuke finally said, looking away from him.
"Sasuke, I, maybe I should fetch a nurse…"
Sasuke shot him a glare. "I need help getting back in bed, my legs won't cooperate properly."
Letting out a relieved sigh Kakashi walked over, hitched the hospital gown back on Sasuke's shoulder, and carefully helped him get to his feet. It was awkward finding a way to support him without touching his chest, but he got an arm over his shoulder, and then they were making their way back to the hospital bed, slowly, the IV-stand awkwardly pulled after the two of them. Sasuke was shaking with the strain of the short walk, and Kakashi was wondering how he'd even made it into the bathroom in the first place. Sheer willpower probably, sounded like him.
Finally Kakashi could leave Sasuke to crawl into the bed, yanking the sheets over his legs, and sinking back into the pillows, letting out a pained groan, fist flexing in the sheets. He probably needed more painkillers, there was a tightness in his face even after he had settled in, as if he was trying to fight off the pain.
"I should find a nu—"
"Kakashi, where's Naruto?" Sasuke interrupted him.
So, right to business then. Kakashi figured he shouldn't be surprised. "Let me get—"
Sasuke shut him up with a glare so cold Kakashi could swear he could feel the chill of it. "Where. Is. Naruto?"
Lowering his gaze to the floor, Kakashi tried to gather his words, say something that would calm Sasuke down rather than agitate him further. It would entail lies, and Kakashi knew that lies right now would only shatter whatever trust was between the two of them.
He looked back up, saw Sasuke's impatient glare and knew there was no way to sugar-coat this. "We… don't know."
Dark eyes widened in apparent shock, and Kakashi continued when Sasuke didn't say anything.
"Kiba told me that Naruto left soon after you were taken here. I went to your apartment, but it didn't seem like anyone had been there. So I went to his apartment, and there were… signs that he had been there. He had left by then, his phone appears to be turned off, and your car is gone.
"Naruto…" Sasuke whispered as his eyelids slid shut. Kakashi could see the pain of that knowledge settling over Sasuke as apparent as physical pain.
"Kiba told me what he saw, but he didn't really know what happened. I think maybe you know more?" There was always the chance that Sasuke had been as surprised by what had happened with Naruto's turn as Kiba was, but judging by Kiba's retelling Sasuke hadn't appeared shocked at seeing Naruto. Kakashi had the sneaking suspicion that not only was there more to Naruto than they had known about, Sasuke had seen something happen before. Whether he knew just what made Naruto different or not he had no idea, but he expected to learn. He didn't much like not knowing, it was a weak link in their unit, and if he was to have any hope of patching it he needed to know exactly what he was up against.
By the time Kakashi left Sasuke was mentally drained. He had told Kakashi everything, knowing that it was their safest bet to put all the cards on the table. Kakashi was the one person in the world Sasuke actually trusted, he wouldn't throw Naruto to the dogs, he would realise that it wasn't Naruto's fault that Sasuke was hurt, that he wasn't responsible for what happened.
Sasuke hated that they didn't know where Naruto was. There was no telling where he had gone off to. Sasuke wished he could have talked to him, told him to stay, that he forgave him. Now Naruto blamed himself for what happened and had either fled in panic or because some unfounded feeling of guilt.
He hoped Naruto had only needed to get away for a short while to calm down, that he hadn't done something really stupid like leave altogether. He would be so fucking pissed off if that happened. Naruto was supposed to be here when he woke up, feeling guilty maybe, but here, by his side. Then Sasuke could tell him that it was okay, he was fine, and that they were going to figure things out together, because they were partners and that was what partners did.
What had Naruto told him that time Sasuke had tried to keep him safe by leaving to take on Itachi alone? Something about how Sasuke wasn't getting rid of Naruto that easily? Naruto had been pretty adamant in standing by Sasuke's side, even if it brought with it a side of danger and possible death. He had hoped Naruto knew that it was a two-way street. Sasuke had no intention of letting go of Naruto because of this. He was going to stand firmly by his side like a true partner, doing what he could do find the answers. Someone out there would know what a protos was, and how to fix Naruto. But that would mean Naruto needed to be here.
If Naruto didn't show his pretty behind soon Sasuke was going to pretty fucking pissed off, and then he would drag his drugged up ass out of this bed and hunt him down so he could drag him home and then kick his ass.
Naruto better not be holed up somewhere, berating himself over hurting Sasuke. So he had a few more scars to show off, wasn't the first ones, and wasn't going to be the last ones, not in his line of work. They matched nicely with the scar from his gunshot wound from earlier this year.
Kakashi had left him with the promise that he wasn't giving up until he found Naruto, and Sasuke knew Kakashi wasn't one for empty promises, not like this. He would do what he could to track down the idiot and drag him back here, Sasuke had faith in that.
And if Kakashi couldn't do it Sasuke would just have to heal up fast enough to do it himself. Naruto obviously needed some sense beaten into him.
As Sasuke found himself drifting off he realised that there was one fear he hadn't even dared thinking about so far.
What if Naruto hadn't left because of guilt, what if this time he hadn't been able to keep the beast back, what if he couldn't control it at all anymore?
