"Do you want to hold her?"
Sasuke swallowed, mismatched eyes wider than she had ever seen them, and fear was plainly splashed across his face. He shook his head; it was the only movement he had given since the labor started eighteen hours ago.
Sakura's pink brows furrowed, still sticky from the sweat of her labor. Sarada, pink and damp, lay against Sakura's chest, black eyes blurry and dark hair still wet.
"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura whispered softly, biting down on her lip. She was bone tired, exhausted to her very core, in pain even with the healing Karin provided and her own. "Do…" her seafoam green eyes shifted to the infant in her arms. She tried to hold back the sob that shuddered through her. "Do you not want this?"
do you not want me?
did you change your mind?
have you decided we are not worth it?
that I am not worth it?
In an instant, Sakura felt, maybe for the first time in her entire life, that loving Sasuke was a mistake. The way he was looking at her, obviously terrified, made Sakura wish he had plunged his Chidori laced hand through her heart all those years ago.
Maybe it would have been easier that way.
She watched as the baby in her arms gurgled, the smallest most perfect hands she had ever seen gripped unknowingly at her skin.
He didn't speak, and Sakura felt her heart -which had swelled so large and proudly at the birth of her daughter, their daughter only minutes ago- shattered in her ribcage, shrapnel impaling into the soft tissue of her lungs.
"You don't have to stay, Sasuke-kun." She squeezed her eyes closed, willed tears not to run down her cheeks, and held Sarada as closely as she could. "I didn't – I'm sorry – I thought –"
"Sakura," she hadn't realized the tears had escaped the confines of her lashes until a warm, gentle hand brushed them away from her cheek. She opened her eyes to see that Sasuke had knelt down, elbow resting on the side of the makeshift bed, so that he was eye level with her. "You misunderstand me."
He brushed damp pink hair away from her face, hand coming to rest on the back of her neck, and pulled her closer until their foreheads were touching and she couldn't look anywhere except into his eyes.
"I'm…" he inhaled, mouth contorting into a pseudo frown. "I'm so fucking happy." It was gossamer thin and for the first time in eighteen hours, Sakura was glad that they were wrapped in the quiet silence of Orochimaru's base instead of the noisy hospital she presided over.
Sakura's breath caught in her chest and a lump jumped to her throat.
"I-I never – I thought I was going to die after facing Itatchi. I had accepted that." He swallowed thickly, and Sakura was surprised to see water gathering on his lash line. "I didn't think I could have this. I don't deserve to have this after everything I've done."
He looked down at Sarada, and the water in his eyes dripped onto his pale skin. "She's so fucking perfect, and you're so fucking perfect. I-I can't hold her because if I do, I'll ruin her."
"Sasuke-kun, you-"
"You spent so long making her and dealt with the pain and sickness… what if I hurt her? What if I drop her? What if-"
She cupped his cheek, thumbed a tear from his face, and gave him a tentative smile. "Take off your shirt."
He flinched at the comment, pulling his forehead away from hers as his dark brows knit together. "Wh-"
"Hush," Sakura admonished gently, and then repeated. "Take off your shirt."
He looked at her skeptically but obeyed, removing the article of clothing, and then stood there awkwardly.
"Come here," she gently shifted in the bed, mindful of both Sarada and her pain. "Lean back." he was leaning against the scratchy pillows, and ever so tenderly, Sakura scooped Sarada up, and placed her on her father's chest. Instinctively, Sasuke's arm cradled the infant to anchor her to him.
"Sak-"
"Hush," she hummed at him, he was clearly still terrified, skin incredibly pale save for the dusting of pink on his cheeks, eyes wide. "Skin to skin contact is good for the baby and the parent."
She watched him as he watched Sarada, and the shattered pieces of her heart instantly mended.
"She's so warm," he whispered and so, so softly nuzzled the tip of his nose into Sarada's hair. At his touch the infant mewled contentedly, small hands gently tightening and releasing against his skin. And then, he was crying again. "Sakura," mismatched eyes sought her out. "She's so fucking perfect."
All she could do, repaired heart bursting with so much love, was nod at him with a watery smile.