#no16

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kakashi encouraged, pushing the door to his apartment wider. Dust motes floated across his vision, and he wished he’d taken some time to clean before inviting Tenzo over, but there hadn’t been time. “Did you want to take a shower or something?”

Tenzo shook his head without speaking, moving toward the couch. He sank onto the cushions and fidgeted with his pants leg. “You don’t have to do this senpai. I’m okay to go home.”

Humming under his breath, Kakashi nodded. “You might be ready, but I’m not sure that I am.”

It had been less than two hours since Tenzo was released from the hospital where he’d stayed for two days. Tsunade said the man was physically well enough after his ordeal, but his mental state was another story. She didn’t quite suggest that Kakashi should stay with him, but the implication was there. He hadn’t needed it. Kakashi wasn’t going to let Tenzo out of his sight.

“Can I get you anything?” Kakashi asked, glancing toward the kitchen. “Something to eat? Water? A stiff drink?”

Tenzo sighed. “I don’t need or want anything. I’m fine.”

You’re not fine. You were just tortured. You lost so much blood that Sakura couldn’t heal you. You almost died in my arms. The panicked thoughts raced through Kakashi’s mind, but he nodded instead of acknowledging them. “Okay.”

The pair sat in silence for several minutes while Tenzo looked everywhere except Kakashi. Deciding to leave him in peace, Kakashi pulled Icha, Icha off the table and started leafing through the familiar book. None of the words sank in. Tenzo glanced over once, but Kakashi kept his eyes on the page. Minute dragged toward an hour without speaking, but he did nothing to break it. Tenzo visibly relaxed, shoulders lowering as his breath grew deeper. Still, Kakashi didn’t comment.

A scream shattered the silence, the sound more playful than terrified. Kakashi assumed it was some kids playing, or perhaps a jutsu gone wrong and the inherent teasing that came with that. He turned to ask Tenzo what he thought of it and was shocked to see the whites of the man’s eyes. He sat rigid, hands clenched on the edge of the cushion. Kakashi frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Tenzo shook his head without answering, sucking rapid breaths through his lips. Kakashi set his book aside and moved closer. “I can’t,” Tenzo gasped, eyes darting around the room. “I—”

The man clutched at his heavy flak vest, so Kakashi helped him shrug it off. A shrill breath whistled in Tenzo’s throat as he pushed down the fabric covering his neck. Kakashi raised one hand to the newly revealed skin and pressed. Tenzo’s too fast pulse pounded beneath his fingers. He shied away, eyes on the door like he expected it to crash open at any moment.

“Look at me,” Kakashi pleaded. Another loud crash, likely someone dropping something in the next door apartment, made Tenzo cry out.

On a whim, Kakashi caught Tenzo’s hand and led him deeper into the apartment. The bedroom was furthest away from the noise of the street, especially after Kakashi closed the door and windows. He returned to Tenzo’s side. “You’re safe here,” he whispered, voice growing thick on the words.

Nearly a week ago, Kakashi had no idea where Tenzo was or how badly his mission had gone, only that he needed to find him. He recalled the injuries and blood loss that he’s seen, then the crippling fear that he’d been too late. Promising that he was safe felt dishonest.

“I wish I could promise that nobody else will ever hurt you either,” Kakashi continued, taking another step toward Tenzo. The man raised haunted, questioning eyes. Kakashi brushed over the scar that curled over Tenzo’s cheek. He traced the path toward the man’s temple. “What happened here?”

Tenzo closed his eyes, but his head tipped toward Kakashi’s hand. He exhaled in a soft whoosh and shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.” Kakashi smoothed his thumb across the area a second time. “But, you need to.”

For a moment, Tenzo didn’t speak or move. The tension between them stretched and grew until Kakashi wondered if he’d made a mistake. Maybe Tenzo wanted to be alone, and the extra attention was making him uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t want Kakashi around because he blamed him for not getting there soon enough. Maybe he wanted—

“It was from a shuriken when I was first captured,” Tenzo whispered, cringing at even the lightest touch.

Kakashi spied another scar along Tenzo’s jaw and allowed his slide along it until skin met fabric. He eased the half mask down and let it hang toward his chest. Tenzo blew out a breath as the pad of Kakashi’s thumb followed the scar toward his shoulder. He tried not to think about how close the slash had come to ending his life. The opposite shoulder rose in a shrug. “A kunai.”

Though Kakashi had seen the damage first hand, there had been too much blood to catalogue the injuries. With a questioning sound he reached for the hem of Tenzo’s shirt. When the younger man didn’t stop him, he raised it. It took considerable control not to gasp at the roadmap of torture written across the pale skin. Kakashi laid the garment aside and sucked in a breath that provided too little air.

Kakashi smoothed a palm over the man’s right side, surprised the man shifted away from the touch. Pale scars ran along Tenzo’s ribs with a deep, puckered scar between two of them, large enough for Kakashi’s knuckle to sink into. He caressed the abused skin, but Tenzo showed no emotion when he answered. “Kabuto punctured my lung, mostly to see if it would reinflate on its own.”

As Kakashi drew back, his hand shook from either rage or sorrow. He didn’t try to figure out which. The skin over Tenzo’s heart was marred with an intricate pattern of scars. When Kakashi’s palm covered the area, Tenzo blew out a breath. “Those were done with a chakra scalpel.”

“Hot metal of some sort, meant to test my body’s ability to heal around cauterization,” Tenzo supplied, indicating a long, dark scar on the side of his stomach. “I passed out before Kabuto could finish the explanation.”

“Flayed,” Tenzo continued in the same monotonous tone, offering his left wrist with an irregular pattern encircling it. He raised his hand to display the missing joint on his left index finger. “I can’t remember what he used for this, only that it hurt like hell. What’s the point of this?”

Shame and guilt threatened to overwhelm Kakashi as he caught Tenzo’s hand. He turned the man’s wrist over and pressed a light kiss to the blemished skin. Tenzo’s breath caught at the movement. “I am so sorry,” Kakashi murmured, accenting each word with a gentle caress. He ended with his lips against a mark behind Tenzo’s ear that he still didn’t know the cause of. “I should have been there.”

Tenzo shuddered, crumbling in an instant. A sob caught in his throat, tangling in his vocal cords without fully forming. Kakashi pulled him closer, slanting their mouths together as if he could capture the pain and erase it. Tenzo clutched his back, fingers digging in painfully. When they broke apart, Tenzo shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I almost lost you,” Kakashi breathed, trying to control the emotion that crept into his voice. “I let you go, and I didn’t say all the things—”

“Hang in there Virgil, Scott and Alan are coming in a Pod.” John reassured in his ear, like he had much option to do anything else but wait. 

His own voice was breathless from the limited breathing room as he replied, “F.A.B.”

He could hear the rumble of the pod as his brothers approached some minutes later, muffled discussion blurred out by the rubble and his helmet and finally the noise of hydraulics. How long it took he didn’t know, but eventually the weight was lifted from his back, replaced by the light touch of a hand and a brother’s voice that pinned him just as much as the concrete had, “Stay there until I say Virg.”