(no subject)
title: panacea
chapter: one and two
series: Naruto (AU)
pairing: Sasusaku
rating: M
chapter one
"Do you even know what you are asking?"
The blast of the winter air chilled her to the bone as it drifted from the open car window. However the young doctor hardly noticed that she was freezing. The fierce glare from her revered instructor was already enough to melt the ice that she knew formed on her sweaty brow. She got her constricted throat spoke after the intense stare turned away from her.
[O+O, hell, did I just read that right? There are some frozen sweats on her forehead!]
"Yes."
She did not even need to glance at her mentor, the greatest physician she ever has known, to know that the woman was deeply agitated. "You are one of the most talented trainees I have ever handled." The older woman pressed a well-manicured finger to the button, automatically closing the open window. "Surely you have already thought of the consequences of your actions."
"Tsunade-shishou."
The driver of the car pursed her lips and remained silent.
She averted her gaze to the dark night sky flecked with white flakes behind the tinted glass panes, the city lights a blur as they sped up on the road. "I have to do this."
[Yeah, the city lights are images when I commute from the hospital. And Sakura is trying to convince Tsunade for her deployment to Sasuke’s case..]
The other woman turned the steering wheel forcefully as the vehicle rounded around the corner. "This is not in your jurisdiction."
"I’m a doctor." The younger one was never one to back down from her superior in their match of wills. "His doctor." Those clean fingers now gripped the clean lapels of her coat tightly. She would not admit that she was afraid doing this alone. But it did not escape from the scrutinizing gaze of her superior that she sat up more rigidly than the usual.
[Sakura is trying to convince Tsunade that being his doctor, she had the right to follow him. Of course, Tsunade sees that it’s really a very weak argument.]
"Then don’t cross the line." The woman tightened her hold on the clutch beside her. She did not need to emphasize what she meant. "He will not hesitate to kill you."
[The He in this sentence is referring to Orochimaru.]
Her eyes became steely jades that Tsunade could not help but be proud of, alight with a unrecognizable fervor.
"Let’s see."
[I remember that I had altered theTsunade-Sakura conversation from being too vague. Although there are still some secrets hidden in the conversation, it’s not as lengthy and mundane as the last one.]
The frantic waves of whispers around her were ignored as she walked briskly in the well-lighted hallways. She hardly gave any notice to the white-washed walls marked with blood. As soon as her closed leather shoes passed through the swinging doors, the chaos was suddenly silenced, as everyone turned their heads to her.
[I haven’t watched the Silence of The Lambs when I wrote this thing, but now that I’m reading this after a few years…I’m actually seeing the whole scenario in a different light. Imagine white walls with blood fingerprints and marks all over. Heheh.]
Her heels clacked on the tiles tenaciously as she saw him for the very first time.
The orderlies tried to constrain him as he struggled against the bound leather straps. The patient had been transported some time earlier in a mattress that had many coarse leather straps that bound every limb to the bed frame, trying to take away all the chances of escape.
[..Is it me, or did the image of a bound Hannibal Lecter just flashed in my mind’s eye?]
(She spared a glance towards the dark crimson patterns on the tiles and the white gown that was stained with crusty, hardened layers of blood. It was like a painting, with the discarded scalpel resembling like a morbid brush leaving grave swirls on a blank paper.)
He considered her with a skeptical glare as she slowly reached out to brush his arm with her fingers.
With a pliant touch on his shoulder, she nodded to a nearby assistant, stretching her other hand for the syringe. Then without warning, she swiftly added pressure on that tender spot on his upper limb.
He screamed. The sound pierced through the thick hospital walls and evoked horrific reactions from her fellow residents. Different profanities flew to her ears, colorful words that were never really said in her profession for a long time. She managed to hold the arm in place with a grasp that exerted all of her strength as he tried once more to free himself.
She pricked him with the needle and pressed down the barrel carefully. His captivating ebony eyes widened in surprise as he felt the heavenly, floating effect of the drug ensnaring him.
He hissed in protest and stared at her murderously. Her keen senses caught breath of words from his moving, silent lips. She leaned forward to hear it, despite protests from her present accomplices.
"I will kill you," he murmured endlessly, his eyelids slowly drooping to a close.
[He’s dreaming, of Itachi.]
His muscles gradually stop twitching as the medicine takes its full effect.
She was strangely fascinated with the grotesque expression on his beautiful, feminine-like features that graced his face.
How perfect he is. She mused to herself.
[Even if he is killing Sakura, I’m afraid that this crazy woman will still adore him.]
Her whole senses were only attuned to his peaceful breathing and his clammy skin under her touch. She could neither see those interested stares nor hear their fascinated whispers about this odd behavior.
The next morning, she found him sitting on the windowsill. His admirable face was stoic and unreadable, as if it was carved from ivory. The sunlight filtered through the window, falling on the residing occupant in the room, highlighting his profile as he sat on his bed. Those silhouette-colored eyes were directed towards some unknown point in the cerulean-tinted sky.
"Good morning, Uchiha-san."
There was a bundle of daffodils in a delicately crafted vase. He glanced at them suspiciously.
[Of course, daffodil flowers that secretly came from Sakura. ]
"I hope I'm not disturbing you.” She spoke cheerfully, for she was not really accustomed in only hearing flutter of curtains in a room with people. She turned her back to him, grabbing the chart beside the beautifully arranged flora on his bedside table. “I'm going to ask you a few questions today."
He merely stared at the flowers that lay innocently inside the vase.
"Who sent them?" His voice is like dark, silky velvet on her skin.
[Hehehe, Tons of your secret admirers.]
She managed to smile at him, even though he was glaring at her furiously. "Well, probably someone thought you could use a little bit of cheering up." With one roving gaze, her skilled eyes quickly assessed him.
[LOL, yeah. Sometimes, Sasuke needs to loosen up. Though with the way canon has been going…]
He was a handsome young man, with his body sculpted to explain why many nurses visit this particular ward quite often. A fine chiseled face, a perfectly pointed aristocratic nose and his pale prominent cheeks accentuated by his silky, black mane that she secretly envies. "After all, this place is a little bit maddening, isn't it?"
His reaction to her statement was quite astonishing. His eyes suddenly bulged and he bared his teeth at her in anger. A pained gasp came out of her lips when his hand shot out and held her wrist in a vise grip.
"Let me out." he stated low and clearly, the threat of death ringing loudly in her ears.
She wrestled against him, trying to pull away from those terrifying fingers. Her heart started to sped up suddenly in horror and she wished so hard that she could scream for help. The fact that her vocal strings got so tangled when he held her terrified gaze with his breathtaking eyes made the effort to scream useless.
"I-I.." She stuttered, recalling the words of her instructor to never, ever give false reassurances to patients.
"Let me out." He hissed, stressing his demand by digging his blunt nails into her skin even more.
"I-I can't!" she half-yelped, her fingers uselessly trying to pry his tight ones from her fragile wrist.
There might have been too much adrenaline flowing in his veins as he roughly maneuvered her to be thrown against the nearby table, she thought desperately. In a state of panic, she nearly shrieked. "But I can help you!"
[Honestly, if my psychiatric experience in the forensic pavilion turned out to be like that, I will really, really panic.]
Suddenly, his excruciating clutch was gone. His intense stare burned stinging holes on her, as if to replace the recent threat of those hands. Labored breaths filled the tense silence but she could only perceive the loud pounding that drummed in her ears.
She slowly gained back her composure as she rubbed her reddened forearms.
He sat rigidly on his place, now staring at the innocent flowers that danced against the morning breeze that flitted from the open window.
He breathed normally, acting as if nothing happened.
Hurried footsteps now reverberated on the hallways. It was no mystery to everyone what occurs if anyone dared to start a conversation with him.
"Your blood pressure." She took the cuff on his bedside, grateful that her hands did not shake. "May I?"
chapter two
She was shaken off her restless sleep when her beeper scintillates an annoying high-pitched alarm. The small screen was inscribed with a request for emergency help for all free interns in a certain floor. Her mind was suddenly clear, and she started thinking with a prayer to the heavens that the situation was not caused by any of his violent outburst.
Her hopes, however, were dashed when a nearly hysteric nurse ran in her office.
Uchiha-san is dangerously at risk to himself and the others again.
The patient had thrown the delicate, transparent vase on the ground containing the flowers she had placed there earlier and threatened to slit his wrist unless they comply with his demand to be discharged from the hospital. No amount of coaxing had made him move away from the open windows. (He would jump if they intend to subdue him with force)
[This situation really happened in a military hospital during third year. A terminal patient of the nephro ward was terribly depressed, knowing that he’ll be on dialysis forever and will never return for active duty. The nephro ward was on the sixth floor and he held a gun to his head and one foot over the large windows. He threatened to end his life if his family doesn’t receive enough support from the government. It was very lucky for the staff that the problem was resolved easily by the present head doctor at that time and it didn’t reach the ears of the media.]
She listened raptly with a grim expression and hurriedly pushed her arms through the armholes of her coat with a force she never thought she could pull off when sleepy.
Her heels, pacing so quickly, clacked simultaneously on the floor. She suddenly ran towards at the crowd of people that had gathered in front of that familiar door. Her anger, already reached its boiling point, could not be restrained now.
"Everyone out of this room!" She pointed towards the end of the corridor.
"But sensei!" An intern protested as she glowered at everyone.
"I will handle this. Now, everyone get out. "
"He is not your designated patient for this shift, Haruno-sensei!" Another intern retorted, sullen. "Yakushi-sensei gave specific orders not to interfere with his affairs-"
She interfered with the concealed reprimand on that statement and stopped their increasing complaints with a growling answer "You can all inform Yakushi-sensei about this."
[Of course, Kabuto wouldn’t want anyone to touch his precious patient.]
"But--sensei!"
"Out." Her hardened emerald orbs glittered dangerously. "Now."
An uncomfortable calm settled inside the room as they were helpless to do anything but comply with the fiery proclamation. The footsteps dwindled after thirty seconds of her stern command.
She now glared at the most troublesome patient she has ever encountered in her whole practice.
That smirk. She could not help but notice the unwinding of something tight in her chest. But when she saw the piece of shrapnel he poised so gracefully at the arc of his wrist, a sudden flame of loathing flared inside her.
She marched towards him as he placed the sharp edge at his skin. He motioned to slice it open and--
"Cut it across the base of your neck!"
[Oh goodness, Sakura is so non-therapeutic/non-traditional on her approach…]
He blinked and failed to stain the white sheets, which was a great relief. "What?"
She forgot the policies, protocols and to hell with the standards! Because she was really infuriated with him and hollered a retort. "I said, cut it across the--"
"I know, dammit! Why are you telling me?"
"You'll die faster. Messy, but it’s more effective." Her thunderous voice filled the air.
He will not kill himself. She knows this. He cannot die yet.
[…because Sakura believes that Sasuke is not insane. Well, in her standards.]
His murky eyes held astonishment as he held the thin blade-like crystal glass still in his fingers. She came to stand in front of him, placing her hands on his pliant wrist. His burning stare slowly grazed her from head to foot, staring at her as if it was the first time he ever saw her.
The anger that burst from her suddenly diffused from his cold gaze. All she felt now was mortification because she just realized of how disheveled and unbecoming she looked at this instant. Her light strawberry short tresses that cascaded out the confines of her half-finished ponytail were awry and her lips were slightly cracked from the cold wind. Deep inside her, she was grateful that her unflattering chest was covered in that clean, pale colored coat.
Her thoughts turned swiftly and cautiously, she held his fingers and closed them around that blasted piece of vase. He did not withdraw, to her slight surprise. Instead he removed his observing eyes off her and turned his attention to the shattered pieces and the scattered, blanched flowers on the dull floor. She was taken aback when he spoke unexpectedly.
"Are you insane?"
[Yes. I’m actually schizophrenic, Sasuke]
She could not blame him to doubt her mind, as this place has tested her sanity as well.
"I said I will help you." Her words were barely distinguishable as an effort to remain calm. "Remember?"
She bit her lip nervously, but her brows drew together and again there was that intoxicating glitter in her foam-green eyes.
"Uchiha-san," she whispered, as if afraid of breaking something if she raised her voice a decibel higher. "Can you go to sleep now?" [and I’ll give you a lap dance if you’re good.]
Finally, the tension in the room eased into tranquility. He did not know why she sighed as the glass shard fell out of his grasp.
A couple of workers had peeked cautiously inside the room and tried to get her to return to her office to rest. But she discovered that it was more refreshing to sit beside his bed and watch how the ruined batch of daffodils dance magnificently with the rhythm of the tender, pacifying wind that blew in gently from the window.
She briefly wondered if the flower shop would be open as early as dawn when she buys some ramen for breakfast tomorrow.
She took this time of the night to watch him slumber, those drowning dark depths gone to disturb her.
The respected resident has just finished with her rounds and was now back in her office, donning the coat off from her shoulders. Her system craved for some caffeine. She was about to oblige herself with a cup when she recalled that she forgot to lock the window in Uchiha Sasuke's room.
Others could, of course, have taken care of that simple problem. There was no way he could catch a cold with those kinds of physical attributes. (“With pectorals like those, he’s perfectly capable of himself.” Her stupid inner voice taunted.) There was also no way he could attempt to break out from such a place without any grueling plan. But she decided to go to his room herself for a selfish reason--a stupid reason: to see him before she went home for the day.
[…pectorals. I totally need a more, er, tactful description.]
And in her world, everything she did needed a reason. She had learned that if there was no logic in her every action, there would always be corresponding consequences to follow.
As she neared his room, she wondered if she was just imagining some pained whimpering that was muffled at the end of the hall. Turning around a corner, she can clearly hear the droning voice of the head nurse for the early morning endorsements for the AM shifters. Sakura tried to catch the eyes of the nurses to see if they also heard the stiffled noise, but the ladies merely avoided eye contact because of the previous incident.
She was finally in front of his door when she heard an agonized wail that went straight to her heart.
She scolded herself silently why she forgot to remember that there is a reason that he hated sleep.
[Sakura remembers that Sasuke always had nightmares in his sleep.]
Opening the door with a calculated turn, she glimpsed his furrowed brows and fists that clenched his blankets. Drenched in tons of sweat, he trashed around the bed with an awful force. Luckily enough the bed rails were up, the window locked shut and the table was no longer within his reach. She made a mental note to thank those ladies who fell prey to his dangerous charm and checked up on him more often than she does.
[Admit it, nurses frequently takes care of the good looking/kind guys in their wards. The more annoying the patient is, the more we try to ignore them.]
He was murmuring curses and promises of vengeance and murder, thrashing about on his bed even more violently.
She lowered the steel rails of his bed without hesitation.
"Sasu--Uchiha-san." She clutched his shoulders in alarm.
[She nearly slips out his name. A big no-no.]
For a moment she contemplated that she lost her mind when his eyes snapped open, those strange pair of onyx bleeding as they were now merged with the color of metallic blood.
[I wanted to explain the true reason for the eye color changing in this story, but that would be a spoiler for those who haven’t read this right?]
Never in her life did the sight of blood, which every medical advocate were frequently accustomed of, strike fear in her.
For several moments, she was dumbstruck. He was saturating the white linens with his sweat. A pillow was thrown forcefully at the foot of the bed, its cover torn. The expression of utmost fury was etched upon his face.
[Poor bed sheets. It’s almost like he had a hot wild sex on top of them.]
"A-Are you alright?" She stammered.
Suddenly he threw the blankets off his body and retched viciously on the floor. The scent of vomit made her nauseated as well, but she controlled her reactions. She made another mental note to ask the others if this happened a lot.
[I usually have the insane urge to retch if somebody vomited. The scent alone makes me gag.]
She grabbed the thrown blanket and managed to envelope it over the messy spill. Then she frantically pushed the call light as she discarded her coat to wipe the excess from his mouth. Her cool hand moved to his burning forehead, brushing the fine strands of ebony from his face. Ragged breaths shook his body and again she found her wrist encircled by his bruising grip. Her panicking mind was overwhelmed with relief that his eyes were now back to its usual glinting molten ebonies.
[She could have used his hospital gown to wipe of his excess vomit stains on his mouth. But no, Sakura doesn’t think of this because she’s panicking.]
"Leave me," he released an indrawn air, "alone."
She was not in the mood to retort that he must stop gripping her wrist so tightly if he really wants her to abandon him, so she just sat on the mattress. "It was only a nightmare."
[Sasuke, as many had always said, is a man of contradictions. He forces people to leave him alone but grips to them tightly, because he’s afraid of being alone.]
It seems as if everything that comes from her mouth was a fuel to his raging loathing. "No!" he snapped.
"But--" She was told on her first day not to believe anything he says. She tried to ignore those rules as anxiety grew when he kept his burning gaze away from her shaking eyes.
"It was real." He whispered to her, as if the matter was maddeningly confidential.
[He looks rather deranged here, whispering conspiratorially to her?]
"What did you dream of?"
But she already knew that those dreams were filled with littered corpses and spilled blood on grime.
[And Sakura tries to feign that she does not know what Sasuke always dreams of.]
"Please?" She held back the offers of assurance (because it was not allowed.), even though comforting words were most needed in situations like this. Sitting beside his weak form and exposing herself to help him without reserve was all she could so to relieve him off his delusional, horrifying visions.
"He killed them."
[And he refers to Itachi.]
He narrowed his coal eyes, sensing her trepidation. His fingers finally unclasped her hold on her but her own hand grasped back firmly to keep him from retreating. She spoke quietly, "Go on."
"I will kill him." She froze, never expecting to hear them again. "And not even this damn place can stop me."
[Sakura probably heard them a thousand times before. But she hadn’t heard of those words since a heaven knows when.]
"Uchiha-san?" Absentmindedly, her thumb brushed over his palm. Desperately, she wanted him to realize that this conversation was frightening yet could not attempt to point it out. With a bated, nervous breath, her forehead touched his damp ones with closed lids. "Would you want me to stay?"
[Goodness, staying with a well-known murderer for the night? That would really incite some rumors.]
His indifferent gaze finally registered that she was trembling and trying anxiously to conceal it. He settled his head on the soaked mattress and gave her the briefest, minute smirk.
[And that is really the Sasuke I know.]
"You are annoying."
A rush of blood filled her pale cheeks and he, fortunately, closed his eyes before he caught sight of it.
[Panacea’s real title was “First Patient”, because this fic was my second entry for the Simply Love Contest in 2005. A friend of mine commented that the fic was a very long one shot and readers may not be able to enjoy it. I’m rather er, a very lengthy, wordy writer. So I took her advice and separated it into short chapters. I’m rather fond of this fic, though I tried to revise the plot every single time I read the whole piece.]
And I finally finished the whole commentaries meme. Scoreee~!
Here the link to the meme, if you want more commentaries.
chapter: one and two
series: Naruto (AU)
pairing: Sasusaku
rating: M
chapter one
"Do you even know what you are asking?"
The blast of the winter air chilled her to the bone as it drifted from the open car window. However the young doctor hardly noticed that she was freezing. The fierce glare from her revered instructor was already enough to melt the ice that she knew formed on her sweaty brow. She got her constricted throat spoke after the intense stare turned away from her.
[O+O, hell, did I just read that right? There are some frozen sweats on her forehead!]
"Yes."
She did not even need to glance at her mentor, the greatest physician she ever has known, to know that the woman was deeply agitated. "You are one of the most talented trainees I have ever handled." The older woman pressed a well-manicured finger to the button, automatically closing the open window. "Surely you have already thought of the consequences of your actions."
"Tsunade-shishou."
The driver of the car pursed her lips and remained silent.
She averted her gaze to the dark night sky flecked with white flakes behind the tinted glass panes, the city lights a blur as they sped up on the road. "I have to do this."
[Yeah, the city lights are images when I commute from the hospital. And Sakura is trying to convince Tsunade for her deployment to Sasuke’s case..]
The other woman turned the steering wheel forcefully as the vehicle rounded around the corner. "This is not in your jurisdiction."
"I’m a doctor." The younger one was never one to back down from her superior in their match of wills. "His doctor." Those clean fingers now gripped the clean lapels of her coat tightly. She would not admit that she was afraid doing this alone. But it did not escape from the scrutinizing gaze of her superior that she sat up more rigidly than the usual.
[Sakura is trying to convince Tsunade that being his doctor, she had the right to follow him. Of course, Tsunade sees that it’s really a very weak argument.]
"Then don’t cross the line." The woman tightened her hold on the clutch beside her. She did not need to emphasize what she meant. "He will not hesitate to kill you."
[The He in this sentence is referring to Orochimaru.]
Her eyes became steely jades that Tsunade could not help but be proud of, alight with a unrecognizable fervor.
"Let’s see."
[I remember that I had altered theTsunade-Sakura conversation from being too vague. Although there are still some secrets hidden in the conversation, it’s not as lengthy and mundane as the last one.]
The frantic waves of whispers around her were ignored as she walked briskly in the well-lighted hallways. She hardly gave any notice to the white-washed walls marked with blood. As soon as her closed leather shoes passed through the swinging doors, the chaos was suddenly silenced, as everyone turned their heads to her.
[I haven’t watched the Silence of The Lambs when I wrote this thing, but now that I’m reading this after a few years…I’m actually seeing the whole scenario in a different light. Imagine white walls with blood fingerprints and marks all over. Heheh.]
Her heels clacked on the tiles tenaciously as she saw him for the very first time.
The orderlies tried to constrain him as he struggled against the bound leather straps. The patient had been transported some time earlier in a mattress that had many coarse leather straps that bound every limb to the bed frame, trying to take away all the chances of escape.
[..Is it me, or did the image of a bound Hannibal Lecter just flashed in my mind’s eye?]
(She spared a glance towards the dark crimson patterns on the tiles and the white gown that was stained with crusty, hardened layers of blood. It was like a painting, with the discarded scalpel resembling like a morbid brush leaving grave swirls on a blank paper.)
He considered her with a skeptical glare as she slowly reached out to brush his arm with her fingers.
With a pliant touch on his shoulder, she nodded to a nearby assistant, stretching her other hand for the syringe. Then without warning, she swiftly added pressure on that tender spot on his upper limb.
He screamed. The sound pierced through the thick hospital walls and evoked horrific reactions from her fellow residents. Different profanities flew to her ears, colorful words that were never really said in her profession for a long time. She managed to hold the arm in place with a grasp that exerted all of her strength as he tried once more to free himself.
She pricked him with the needle and pressed down the barrel carefully. His captivating ebony eyes widened in surprise as he felt the heavenly, floating effect of the drug ensnaring him.
He hissed in protest and stared at her murderously. Her keen senses caught breath of words from his moving, silent lips. She leaned forward to hear it, despite protests from her present accomplices.
"I will kill you," he murmured endlessly, his eyelids slowly drooping to a close.
[He’s dreaming, of Itachi.]
His muscles gradually stop twitching as the medicine takes its full effect.
She was strangely fascinated with the grotesque expression on his beautiful, feminine-like features that graced his face.
How perfect he is. She mused to herself.
[Even if he is killing Sakura, I’m afraid that this crazy woman will still adore him.]
Her whole senses were only attuned to his peaceful breathing and his clammy skin under her touch. She could neither see those interested stares nor hear their fascinated whispers about this odd behavior.
The next morning, she found him sitting on the windowsill. His admirable face was stoic and unreadable, as if it was carved from ivory. The sunlight filtered through the window, falling on the residing occupant in the room, highlighting his profile as he sat on his bed. Those silhouette-colored eyes were directed towards some unknown point in the cerulean-tinted sky.
"Good morning, Uchiha-san."
There was a bundle of daffodils in a delicately crafted vase. He glanced at them suspiciously.
[Of course, daffodil flowers that secretly came from Sakura. ]
"I hope I'm not disturbing you.” She spoke cheerfully, for she was not really accustomed in only hearing flutter of curtains in a room with people. She turned her back to him, grabbing the chart beside the beautifully arranged flora on his bedside table. “I'm going to ask you a few questions today."
He merely stared at the flowers that lay innocently inside the vase.
"Who sent them?" His voice is like dark, silky velvet on her skin.
[Hehehe, Tons of your secret admirers.]
She managed to smile at him, even though he was glaring at her furiously. "Well, probably someone thought you could use a little bit of cheering up." With one roving gaze, her skilled eyes quickly assessed him.
[LOL, yeah. Sometimes, Sasuke needs to loosen up. Though with the way canon has been going…]
He was a handsome young man, with his body sculpted to explain why many nurses visit this particular ward quite often. A fine chiseled face, a perfectly pointed aristocratic nose and his pale prominent cheeks accentuated by his silky, black mane that she secretly envies. "After all, this place is a little bit maddening, isn't it?"
His reaction to her statement was quite astonishing. His eyes suddenly bulged and he bared his teeth at her in anger. A pained gasp came out of her lips when his hand shot out and held her wrist in a vise grip.
"Let me out." he stated low and clearly, the threat of death ringing loudly in her ears.
She wrestled against him, trying to pull away from those terrifying fingers. Her heart started to sped up suddenly in horror and she wished so hard that she could scream for help. The fact that her vocal strings got so tangled when he held her terrified gaze with his breathtaking eyes made the effort to scream useless.
"I-I.." She stuttered, recalling the words of her instructor to never, ever give false reassurances to patients.
"Let me out." He hissed, stressing his demand by digging his blunt nails into her skin even more.
"I-I can't!" she half-yelped, her fingers uselessly trying to pry his tight ones from her fragile wrist.
There might have been too much adrenaline flowing in his veins as he roughly maneuvered her to be thrown against the nearby table, she thought desperately. In a state of panic, she nearly shrieked. "But I can help you!"
[Honestly, if my psychiatric experience in the forensic pavilion turned out to be like that, I will really, really panic.]
Suddenly, his excruciating clutch was gone. His intense stare burned stinging holes on her, as if to replace the recent threat of those hands. Labored breaths filled the tense silence but she could only perceive the loud pounding that drummed in her ears.
She slowly gained back her composure as she rubbed her reddened forearms.
He sat rigidly on his place, now staring at the innocent flowers that danced against the morning breeze that flitted from the open window.
He breathed normally, acting as if nothing happened.
Hurried footsteps now reverberated on the hallways. It was no mystery to everyone what occurs if anyone dared to start a conversation with him.
"Your blood pressure." She took the cuff on his bedside, grateful that her hands did not shake. "May I?"
chapter two
She was shaken off her restless sleep when her beeper scintillates an annoying high-pitched alarm. The small screen was inscribed with a request for emergency help for all free interns in a certain floor. Her mind was suddenly clear, and she started thinking with a prayer to the heavens that the situation was not caused by any of his violent outburst.
Her hopes, however, were dashed when a nearly hysteric nurse ran in her office.
Uchiha-san is dangerously at risk to himself and the others again.
The patient had thrown the delicate, transparent vase on the ground containing the flowers she had placed there earlier and threatened to slit his wrist unless they comply with his demand to be discharged from the hospital. No amount of coaxing had made him move away from the open windows. (He would jump if they intend to subdue him with force)
[This situation really happened in a military hospital during third year. A terminal patient of the nephro ward was terribly depressed, knowing that he’ll be on dialysis forever and will never return for active duty. The nephro ward was on the sixth floor and he held a gun to his head and one foot over the large windows. He threatened to end his life if his family doesn’t receive enough support from the government. It was very lucky for the staff that the problem was resolved easily by the present head doctor at that time and it didn’t reach the ears of the media.]
She listened raptly with a grim expression and hurriedly pushed her arms through the armholes of her coat with a force she never thought she could pull off when sleepy.
Her heels, pacing so quickly, clacked simultaneously on the floor. She suddenly ran towards at the crowd of people that had gathered in front of that familiar door. Her anger, already reached its boiling point, could not be restrained now.
"Everyone out of this room!" She pointed towards the end of the corridor.
"But sensei!" An intern protested as she glowered at everyone.
"I will handle this. Now, everyone get out. "
"He is not your designated patient for this shift, Haruno-sensei!" Another intern retorted, sullen. "Yakushi-sensei gave specific orders not to interfere with his affairs-"
She interfered with the concealed reprimand on that statement and stopped their increasing complaints with a growling answer "You can all inform Yakushi-sensei about this."
[Of course, Kabuto wouldn’t want anyone to touch his precious patient.]
"But--sensei!"
"Out." Her hardened emerald orbs glittered dangerously. "Now."
An uncomfortable calm settled inside the room as they were helpless to do anything but comply with the fiery proclamation. The footsteps dwindled after thirty seconds of her stern command.
She now glared at the most troublesome patient she has ever encountered in her whole practice.
That smirk. She could not help but notice the unwinding of something tight in her chest. But when she saw the piece of shrapnel he poised so gracefully at the arc of his wrist, a sudden flame of loathing flared inside her.
She marched towards him as he placed the sharp edge at his skin. He motioned to slice it open and--
"Cut it across the base of your neck!"
[Oh goodness, Sakura is so non-therapeutic/non-traditional on her approach…]
He blinked and failed to stain the white sheets, which was a great relief. "What?"
She forgot the policies, protocols and to hell with the standards! Because she was really infuriated with him and hollered a retort. "I said, cut it across the--"
"I know, dammit! Why are you telling me?"
"You'll die faster. Messy, but it’s more effective." Her thunderous voice filled the air.
He will not kill himself. She knows this. He cannot die yet.
[…because Sakura believes that Sasuke is not insane. Well, in her standards.]
His murky eyes held astonishment as he held the thin blade-like crystal glass still in his fingers. She came to stand in front of him, placing her hands on his pliant wrist. His burning stare slowly grazed her from head to foot, staring at her as if it was the first time he ever saw her.
The anger that burst from her suddenly diffused from his cold gaze. All she felt now was mortification because she just realized of how disheveled and unbecoming she looked at this instant. Her light strawberry short tresses that cascaded out the confines of her half-finished ponytail were awry and her lips were slightly cracked from the cold wind. Deep inside her, she was grateful that her unflattering chest was covered in that clean, pale colored coat.
Her thoughts turned swiftly and cautiously, she held his fingers and closed them around that blasted piece of vase. He did not withdraw, to her slight surprise. Instead he removed his observing eyes off her and turned his attention to the shattered pieces and the scattered, blanched flowers on the dull floor. She was taken aback when he spoke unexpectedly.
"Are you insane?"
[Yes. I’m actually schizophrenic, Sasuke]
She could not blame him to doubt her mind, as this place has tested her sanity as well.
"I said I will help you." Her words were barely distinguishable as an effort to remain calm. "Remember?"
She bit her lip nervously, but her brows drew together and again there was that intoxicating glitter in her foam-green eyes.
"Uchiha-san," she whispered, as if afraid of breaking something if she raised her voice a decibel higher. "Can you go to sleep now?" [and I’ll give you a lap dance if you’re good.]
Finally, the tension in the room eased into tranquility. He did not know why she sighed as the glass shard fell out of his grasp.
A couple of workers had peeked cautiously inside the room and tried to get her to return to her office to rest. But she discovered that it was more refreshing to sit beside his bed and watch how the ruined batch of daffodils dance magnificently with the rhythm of the tender, pacifying wind that blew in gently from the window.
She briefly wondered if the flower shop would be open as early as dawn when she buys some ramen for breakfast tomorrow.
She took this time of the night to watch him slumber, those drowning dark depths gone to disturb her.
The respected resident has just finished with her rounds and was now back in her office, donning the coat off from her shoulders. Her system craved for some caffeine. She was about to oblige herself with a cup when she recalled that she forgot to lock the window in Uchiha Sasuke's room.
Others could, of course, have taken care of that simple problem. There was no way he could catch a cold with those kinds of physical attributes. (“With pectorals like those, he’s perfectly capable of himself.” Her stupid inner voice taunted.) There was also no way he could attempt to break out from such a place without any grueling plan. But she decided to go to his room herself for a selfish reason--a stupid reason: to see him before she went home for the day.
[…pectorals. I totally need a more, er, tactful description.]
And in her world, everything she did needed a reason. She had learned that if there was no logic in her every action, there would always be corresponding consequences to follow.
As she neared his room, she wondered if she was just imagining some pained whimpering that was muffled at the end of the hall. Turning around a corner, she can clearly hear the droning voice of the head nurse for the early morning endorsements for the AM shifters. Sakura tried to catch the eyes of the nurses to see if they also heard the stiffled noise, but the ladies merely avoided eye contact because of the previous incident.
She was finally in front of his door when she heard an agonized wail that went straight to her heart.
She scolded herself silently why she forgot to remember that there is a reason that he hated sleep.
[Sakura remembers that Sasuke always had nightmares in his sleep.]
Opening the door with a calculated turn, she glimpsed his furrowed brows and fists that clenched his blankets. Drenched in tons of sweat, he trashed around the bed with an awful force. Luckily enough the bed rails were up, the window locked shut and the table was no longer within his reach. She made a mental note to thank those ladies who fell prey to his dangerous charm and checked up on him more often than she does.
[Admit it, nurses frequently takes care of the good looking/kind guys in their wards. The more annoying the patient is, the more we try to ignore them.]
He was murmuring curses and promises of vengeance and murder, thrashing about on his bed even more violently.
She lowered the steel rails of his bed without hesitation.
"Sasu--Uchiha-san." She clutched his shoulders in alarm.
[She nearly slips out his name. A big no-no.]
For a moment she contemplated that she lost her mind when his eyes snapped open, those strange pair of onyx bleeding as they were now merged with the color of metallic blood.
[I wanted to explain the true reason for the eye color changing in this story, but that would be a spoiler for those who haven’t read this right?]
Never in her life did the sight of blood, which every medical advocate were frequently accustomed of, strike fear in her.
For several moments, she was dumbstruck. He was saturating the white linens with his sweat. A pillow was thrown forcefully at the foot of the bed, its cover torn. The expression of utmost fury was etched upon his face.
[Poor bed sheets. It’s almost like he had a hot wild sex on top of them.]
"A-Are you alright?" She stammered.
Suddenly he threw the blankets off his body and retched viciously on the floor. The scent of vomit made her nauseated as well, but she controlled her reactions. She made another mental note to ask the others if this happened a lot.
[I usually have the insane urge to retch if somebody vomited. The scent alone makes me gag.]
She grabbed the thrown blanket and managed to envelope it over the messy spill. Then she frantically pushed the call light as she discarded her coat to wipe the excess from his mouth. Her cool hand moved to his burning forehead, brushing the fine strands of ebony from his face. Ragged breaths shook his body and again she found her wrist encircled by his bruising grip. Her panicking mind was overwhelmed with relief that his eyes were now back to its usual glinting molten ebonies.
[She could have used his hospital gown to wipe of his excess vomit stains on his mouth. But no, Sakura doesn’t think of this because she’s panicking.]
"Leave me," he released an indrawn air, "alone."
She was not in the mood to retort that he must stop gripping her wrist so tightly if he really wants her to abandon him, so she just sat on the mattress. "It was only a nightmare."
[Sasuke, as many had always said, is a man of contradictions. He forces people to leave him alone but grips to them tightly, because he’s afraid of being alone.]
It seems as if everything that comes from her mouth was a fuel to his raging loathing. "No!" he snapped.
"But--" She was told on her first day not to believe anything he says. She tried to ignore those rules as anxiety grew when he kept his burning gaze away from her shaking eyes.
"It was real." He whispered to her, as if the matter was maddeningly confidential.
[He looks rather deranged here, whispering conspiratorially to her?]
"What did you dream of?"
But she already knew that those dreams were filled with littered corpses and spilled blood on grime.
[And Sakura tries to feign that she does not know what Sasuke always dreams of.]
"Please?" She held back the offers of assurance (because it was not allowed.), even though comforting words were most needed in situations like this. Sitting beside his weak form and exposing herself to help him without reserve was all she could so to relieve him off his delusional, horrifying visions.
"He killed them."
[And he refers to Itachi.]
He narrowed his coal eyes, sensing her trepidation. His fingers finally unclasped her hold on her but her own hand grasped back firmly to keep him from retreating. She spoke quietly, "Go on."
"I will kill him." She froze, never expecting to hear them again. "And not even this damn place can stop me."
[Sakura probably heard them a thousand times before. But she hadn’t heard of those words since a heaven knows when.]
"Uchiha-san?" Absentmindedly, her thumb brushed over his palm. Desperately, she wanted him to realize that this conversation was frightening yet could not attempt to point it out. With a bated, nervous breath, her forehead touched his damp ones with closed lids. "Would you want me to stay?"
[Goodness, staying with a well-known murderer for the night? That would really incite some rumors.]
His indifferent gaze finally registered that she was trembling and trying anxiously to conceal it. He settled his head on the soaked mattress and gave her the briefest, minute smirk.
[And that is really the Sasuke I know.]
"You are annoying."
A rush of blood filled her pale cheeks and he, fortunately, closed his eyes before he caught sight of it.
[Panacea’s real title was “First Patient”, because this fic was my second entry for the Simply Love Contest in 2005. A friend of mine commented that the fic was a very long one shot and readers may not be able to enjoy it. I’m rather er, a very lengthy, wordy writer. So I took her advice and separated it into short chapters. I’m rather fond of this fic, though I tried to revise the plot every single time I read the whole piece.]
And I finally finished the whole commentaries meme. Scoreee~!
Here the link to the meme, if you want more commentaries.