Escort

XIII

Iruka woke with a sharp pain at the base of his skull. He curled up instinctively to try and lessen it, but it didn’t help. He cracked open his eyes and sat up straight when he didn’t recognize his surroundings. This wasn’t the Abeko, no was it his – Ruka’s – apartment. Sitting up proved to be a bad idea as the pain just seemed to increase. So he lay back down on the soft pallet that served for his bed and tried to remember what had happened. He remembered Yutenji, remembered fighting him and then… nothing. Everything from that moment until now was one huge blank. Panicking would do him no good, so he closed his eyes and relaxed, stretching out his senses. He twitched as he heard a door slide open and soft footsteps against hardwood, slowly approaching him. He wanted to open his eyes, to see who was above him, but instinct kept him still. A gentle, cool hand brushed across his forehead, a man letting out a sigh.

“Iruka,”

Iruka slowly cracked his eyes open then to covertly watch Kakashi. The man seemed troubled, his Sharingan uncovered as was his face, meaning he trusted whomever he was with. And as Iruka was feigning to be unconscious, Kakashi probably felt very safe. Iruka took a moment to study Kakashi’s face while it was devoid of mask and hitai-ate – or patch – though Kakashi work the black spandex mask low around his neck, ready to be pulled up at the slightest sign of waking. He didn’t know why Kakashi hid his face; it was beautiful, much more than Iruka’s own, or anyone’s for that matter. Many faces were pretty, Iruka noted, musing, but Kakashi’s was just beautiful.

“Iruka, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Kakashi was on his feet in a flash, mask pulled up to cover the lower half of his face. Iruka watched, partly amused because he’d stuck with keeping his face bare all those weeks before and now Iruka’s gaze was drawn to those hidden lips, clearly remembering what he had done. He blushed and sat up, which brought the jounin back to his side. Kakashi forced himself to be gentle, knowing Iruka was still healing from the withdrawal. The silver-haired jounin had been at his wits end during the two weeks Iruka had been in Shigure and Mayuri’s care. The night Kakashi brought Ruka home was the first night Shigure had administered the antidote. With the first dose things had gone horribly wrong and for two weeks Kakashi wasn’t allowed to see Iruka. Shigure had explained to him that, though Iruka had been given the antidote, he still had to go through withdrawal. A very painful withdrawal. His body became so tense that it seemed as though the slightest touch would make his muscles snap in twain, and a fever ravaged his body so badly that Mayuri had had to set him up on an intravenous drip because proximity to any living being made him scream in pain. When the worst was over, when Iruka could be touched and fed by hand, Shigure had relented at let Kakashi take over.

But Kakashi didn’t know where to begin. Oh, he knew plenty on how to care for an invalid; he’d helped Rin on more than on occasion during their childhood. He just didn’t know what to tell Iruka about what had happened since the brunette’s memory had stopped. He couldn’t just say “Oh, let’s see. I’m sorry for the fact you got addicted to some sort of mind and behaviour altering drug. And I’m sorry for – while you were tripping on this drug – raping you. Oh, and you might be pregnant with our child.”

Yeah, that would go over well.

Just like telling him the mission hadn’t been fulfilled, that the girl Yukari was still in the clutches of Yutenji. Kakashi figured his death wouldn’t be very painful if he spoke the truth, but if he did die, at least he wouldn’t have to live with Iruka hating him.

“Kakashi?” Iruka whispered, prompting.

“I’m sorry I fucked up your mission!” Kakashi blurted. Ooh, nice save, his mind supplied. Iruka blinked and sighed.

“It can still be salvaged, right? Yukari’s still okay, right?”

“Yukari’s fine. She’s still…” Kakashi paused, searching for the right word, “untouched.”

Iruka let out a breath of relief. “Thank god,”

Kakashi smiled nervously behind his mask. Tell him the truth! His subconscious was screaming. If you do you still might have a chance!

“How long was I asleep? I don’t remember anything after we were separated,” Iruka looked up at Kakashi, watching the red and blue orbs harden and the Sharingan focus on some sort of memory.

“A few weeks,” Kakashi replied evasively. He moved from his spot on the floor toward the tray of food he’d brought with him, picking it up and bringing it over to Iruka.

“Eat,” he said, “You have to get your strength back so we can finish the mission.”

“My mission,” Iruka corrected. Kakashi paused and finally nodded after a long moment of silence. Iruka watched him with narrowed eyes, studying the silver-haired jounin intently. There was something Kakashi wasn’t telling him, something about the hole – more a gap, really – in his memory. He looked down at the food – fruits, vegetables, cooked meats – and chose a few pieces to chew on. Swallowed, chose a bite more, chewed and swallowed. Kakashi had pulled out Icha Icha, Iruka noted with annoyance, but he couldn’t fault the man, not now. The little orange book of porn was like a defense mechanism, meaning he was nervous or scared or bored. This time, Iruka was betting on nervous. He swallowed a bit of chicken prematurely and choked, nausea sweeping over him. Kakashi was by his side immediately, holding onto him while he coughed up half-chewed chicken pieces and was grateful when Kakashi procured a pail for him to throw up in. With the fit over, Iruka let Kakashi get him up and walked him to the bathroom where he could wash his mouth out.

Just that bit of exercise tired him, and for a moment Iruka rubbed his stomach, not liking the way it felt so firm. He heard a whimper sound from Kakashi and turned to look at him, head tilting.

“Kakashi?”

The jounin refused to look at the brunette and the chuunin was no longer in the mood for games.

“Kakashi, tell me what’s going on right now,”

A glance. All right, they were making progress. Iruka tried his best sensei glare and only got a glance and mumbles from the elder man. Iruka was slowly losing his patience, and came toward Kakashi, hands fisting in the man’s shirt. As an afterthought, he hooked his fingers under Kakashi’s muscles, doe eyes narrowed in a mix of annoyance, fear, and yes, just a bit of hatred.

“Hatake Kakashi, you will tell me what’s going on right now or I will tear this mask off you and burn it!”

Iruka wasn’t entirely sure if Kakashi and brought spares – he probably had, paranoid creature of habit he was – so the threat really shouldn’t have worked. But Kakashi’s hands shot up and grabbed Iruka’s wrist, holding them tight.

“You might be pregnant,” Kakashi said lowly. Iruka automatically deflated, surprised and confused. He released his hold on the jounin though Kakashi didn’t quite relinquish his hold on Iruka. Instead the silver-haired man turned his attention on Iruka’s knuckles and fingers, finding them immensely interesting.

“What?”

Kakashi swallowed. “Yutenji drugged you with the same drug he’s using on Yukari. You did everything he said, no more than a doll. So I saved you…”

“Saved me how?” Iruka whispered, not really wanting to know now, not if Kakashi was becoming sullen at remembering for himself.

“He put you up for auction,” Kakashi said, “a Mizuage auction. I won, but I had to… take you.”

Iruka forgot how to breathe for a moment. Then he exploded, open palm smacking Kakashi’s cheek, doe brown darkening to almost black with unshed tears.

“You –raped– me!?”

“I had no choice!” Kakashi yelled back. “I had to or I would’ve lost you!”

“Did it ever occur to you, just once, that maybe you’re losing me because you can’t keep well enough away!?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Iruka.”

“Or what?” Iruka snapped. “You going to hit me? Rape me again?”

“I’ll do something worse than that!” Kakashi growled, anger reaching a crescendo. He truly felt like he would strike Iruka! How dare he make this out to be Kakashi’s fault? If he had just stayed in Konoha, like he was supposed to, none of this would’ve happened!

“Oh, I forgot! Hatake Kakashi is a jounin! He can do whatever he pleases without regard for anyone else!”

“Don’t tempt me, Iruka,” Kakashi growled, Sharingan whirling.

“Tempt you,” Iruka spat. “I thought we were friends. Friends trust each other; friends don’t go chasing each other around and putting each other in danger!”

“If you had just stayed in Konoha--!”

“Like what? A caged bird? Are you going to clip my wings, Kakashi, keep me from flying? And if I am pregnant with your child, are you going to clip his wings too!?”

Kakashi’s fist went up; Iruka fought down the flinch and glared hate at the jounin.

“Get out, Hatake!” Iruka cried, “Get the hell out! I never want to see you again! I hate you!”

Kakashi was gone before Iruka had even finished the last syllable of ‘you’, burning ozone and smoke the only telling signs he had been there at all.

Iruka fell to his knees and cried.