Who: Shikamaru and Temari When: Sunday morning Where: The ninja family's rooms Summary: Temari is back from the dead. Rating: Up to R Warnings: Angst, explicit talk of suicide
Shikamaru started where he'd been seated at the desk, jarring out of his light doze and turning to face the source of the sudden sounds in what had previously been deathly silence.
He hadn't slept much since the start of the experiment. He'd left the room even less, partially to avoid the inevitable violence that would ensue if he did and partially... because he just hadn't had the drive to. Hadn't had the heart. Not after finding Temari's note and kunai in the bathroom. He'd spent quite some time being angry. Angry and shocked and just plain lost know what Temari had done for them. For him. Now that she was back (back and hurt, but oh so alive), anger drained away to leave relief and something heavy that he couldn't name just at that moment.
Standing quickly enough to knock his chair to the floor, he rushed over the bed and the struggling woman on it, hands a bit shaky as he reached for her.
Temari was so damn glad to hear that voice. It had been a risk. The dead didn't always come back, but the other options . . .
She coughed, harsh and ragged, while trying to not throw up on their floor. She always reacted like this, her body rebelling against what had happened, a surge of weakness that she couldn't control. It took a couple attempts to get her voice to work, and it still didn't sound right. Hoarse and weak, her sore throat protesting. "Yo. I might be sick."
Shikamaru did his best to contain himself, steadying his hands and expression. He looked her over for injuries and, finding nothing aside from the very obvious lines on each side of her neck, quickly moved to help Temari out of the bed and toward the door. He didn't give a damn where she got sick, but he knew she'd prefer the bathroom... or at least the nearest trash can, and if she could make the short trip, he wouldn't deny her.
He supported her firmly but carefully, voice thick when he spoke again.
Throwing up on the floor was at the absolute bottom of her list of things she wanted to do. Temari leaned against him while he helped her to the bathroom, focusing on breathing so she could keep control over her body. Her complexion was more than a bit green by the time they arrived.
Throwing up in front of Shikamaru was definitely not something she was proud of, but after this long, she was comfortable enough with the idea. He wouldn't hold it against her.
What little her body had was quickly ejected as she retched.
Comments 35
He hadn't slept much since the start of the experiment. He'd left the room even less, partially to avoid the inevitable violence that would ensue if he did and partially... because he just hadn't had the drive to. Hadn't had the heart. Not after finding Temari's note and kunai in the bathroom. He'd spent quite some time being angry. Angry and shocked and just plain lost know what Temari had done for them. For him. Now that she was back (back and hurt, but oh so alive), anger drained away to leave relief and something heavy that he couldn't name just at that moment.
Standing quickly enough to knock his chair to the floor, he rushed over the bed and the struggling woman on it, hands a bit shaky as he reached for her.
"Temari?"
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She coughed, harsh and ragged, while trying to not throw up on their floor. She always reacted like this, her body rebelling against what had happened, a surge of weakness that she couldn't control. It took a couple attempts to get her voice to work, and it still didn't sound right. Hoarse and weak, her sore throat protesting. "Yo. I might be sick."
Reply
He supported her firmly but carefully, voice thick when he spoke again.
"Troublesome woman."
Reply
Throwing up in front of Shikamaru was definitely not something she was proud of, but after this long, she was comfortable enough with the idea. He wouldn't hold it against her.
What little her body had was quickly ejected as she retched.
Reply
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