Title: Former Lives
Author: JBMcDragon
Status: Complete, 9 parts
Rating: R for violence and language

Summary: The sequel to The Kakashi Mission. Things are not perfect in any relationship, but even Kakashi knows something really isn't right in theirs. When Iruka tries to poison Naruto, he begins to think something isn't right, period.

Prologue and chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6



Chapter Seven
Now

The chakra in the hall was bitter.

Kakashi wrinkled his nose under the mask, shifting his bag of groceries. He wandered toward Iruka's door, debating whether it would be less trouble to get his key out or to simply disable the traps and walk in.

It would probably be *easier* just to disable the traps, but then Iruka would bitch about him not using the key he was *given.*

He decided to disable the traps. Whistling cheerfully, he shifted the grocery bag and let a senbon drop from his sleeve, using it to pick the lock. It took him .4 seconds--he obviously needed to work on his time--and then he was through, a burst of chakra stopping the first trap and a quick side-jump-step avoiding the next.

The apartment was quiet. His smile started to fade. It wasn't quiet enough. He could hear someone breathing. Raggedly.

He smelled fear.

Kakashi set the bag on the coffee table, looking around slowly before padding to the bedroom. Iruka wasn't sleeping. He followed the noise, his eyes drawn to a corner.

A human ball lay there, knees up, arms wrapped around his head. He smelled of sweat and terror and blood. His breath was shuddering in his lungs, eyes open but sightless.

"Iruka," Kakashi whispered.

There was no response.

Kakashi was by the man's side in a second, reaching out to touch--

Iruka pulled away, screaming through a throat gone almost soundless. His head cracked into the wall and dried blood split, letting fresh ooze down his face.

"Iruka--Iruka--" Kakashi said, voice firm and demanding. Field work, he reminded himself. He'd dealt with panic before, dealt with breakdowns during the war. He could deal with this. "*Iruka.*"

Something got through--the tone, most likely. The Chuunin remained pressed against the wall, but he stopped trying to scream. His eyes focused on Kakashi's face like a lifeline, like it was the only thing pulling him back to reality.

"Don't--don't touch--" Iruka whimpered, legs shifting as if he'd run if he could. He only wore pants, and his chest where it wasn't bandaged was mottled, bruising in places.

"No, no I won't touch you," Kakashi said soothingly. He didn't know what was causing the panic, what Iruka had remembered--because he had no doubt it was a memory. But there were too many things over the last week that could cause a panic attack in a chakra-weary mind.

"N-Naruto--"

"Naruto's fine," Kakashi said firmly. "You got him to the hospital. He thought he had food poisoning. He's with Jiraiya now." Kakashi paused, then added, "That was *not* your fault."

"He--he's alive?" Iruka whispered.

"Yes," Kakashi said. "Alive and well." He shifted forward, reaching out to touch his lover, pull him in and reassure him now that the problem had been addressed--

"No--no--" Iruka said, voice rising into a scream. It cracked on the word, throat giving out as if he'd been screaming for hours.

Kakashi moved away again, crouching, trying to push his own fear to the back of his mind. "It's all right," he said. "I won't hurt you."

Iruka was curled against the wall, pressed into it as if to look at Kakashi was too frightening. He buried his face in his arms, sobbing wretchedly, shaking so hard it was a wonder he didn't spasm.

Kakashi waited, feeling helpless. "Iruka, say something," he ordered, making himself sound harder than he wanted to. Like missions, he thought. He just had to treat it like he would on the field.

Ninja training did one thing: it made people respond instantly to an order.

"H-hurts--" Iruka stammered, hands turning to fists.

"What hurts?" Kakashi's eyes swept over the man, but he didn't see any injuries. None other than what had been there before, and the bloody streaks on Iruka's face where it looked like he'd clawed himself.

Kakashi tried not to see those, either.

"All--everything--make it stop--"

This wasn't getting him anywhere. Kakashi pushed to his feet, blood simmering with frustration and fear under his skin. He walked to the bathroom, turned the water on, debated for a moment between hot and cold and finally left it lukewarm.

Then he went back to the bedroom.

Iruka was locked in his own mind. But all animals, even people, came out of their heads when survival was at stake. There were a few ways to make him pay attention to his body, to get outside his thoughts, but the only one that wouldn't hurt him involved soaking him.

Kakashi hoped it worked as well in a shower as it did when he'd been thrown into the lake.

He tried not to hear the pleading coming from the other man's broken throat, tried not to think about his boyfriend having a mental breakdown on the floor of the bedroom. Tried to analyze how Iruka was likely to attack when Kakashi touched him despite the Chuunin's repeated pleas to be left alone.

Then he stooped, hauled Iruka to his feet, and braced.

The man began to scream, thrashing, trying to escape--but he wasn't really *fighting.* Not like ninja did, not to hurt or kill or get free--just lashing like a wild animal, thoughtless and formless.

It was terrifying.

Kakashi pinned Iruka's arms, nearly carrying him into the bathroom. He closed his ears to the begging, the hysterical screaming, the heartfelt, "Nononono don't--please--"

Just another mission.

Just another mission.

He couldn't make Iruka stand in the tub. After a moment's hesitation, deftly shifting the flailing man to keep from getting bitten, he stepped under the spray.

Water hit, and he wished he'd made it warmer.

Iruka choked, coughed, went still trying to breathe. Kakashi loosened his grip slightly. The Chuunin twisted, trying to get his face out of the shower stream. Kakashi grabbed him, holding him there, feeling the tremor in the other man's muscles, the way his breath broke over whispers.

He didn't want to know what Iruka was whispering.

Then it turned back into screaming, fighting, struggling to get loose--

Kakashi ducked a clawed hand aimed at his face, grabbing the wrist and dragging it into a pin.

"Let go--let go--" Iruka yelled, eyes unseeing. "Let go, oh gods, let go--"

"It's me," Kakashi said firmly, trying to give his words weight. Enough weight to sink through the panic. "Iruka, it's me."

"Let go--let--K--Kakash--" Iruka stopped, blinking up at Kakashi numbly. Water ran into his face, soaking through his hair and his pants. Kakashi's clothes were clinging to him. "Kakashi," Iruka murmured, staring as if he didn't quite believe it.

"Yes," Kakashi said, because he felt the need to say something. Anything.

"Kakashi. Kakashi, make it stop," Iruka whimpered, and leaned into the narrow chest. Kakashi released his wrists, and Iruka's hands came up, fisting in wet cloth. "Please make it stop," he sobbed, head bowed, face resting on Kakashi's shoulder. "Gods, please just make it go away," he begged in a shattered voice.

Kakashi didn't know what to do. Slowly, his arms rose, cradling the other man as if he might break at any moment. He stroked Iruka's hair, holding him tighter when the Chuunin didn't protest.

Iruka was crying, the sounds raw and hurt. Kakashi wished it would stop. He wished it would all stop, because it made his breath lurch and his eyes prickle and he didn't like it.

He held Iruka tighter, as if he could squeeze all the pain out, as if he could make the other man stop shaking and twitching. It didn't work. He didn't really expect it to, but he'd hoped.

Iruka seemed to be crying harder. The sobs tore through his hoarse throat, wracking his entire body. Water hammered down on them, drowning out the rest of the world. It pinged against metal and turned gray from dye.

And still Iruka cried.

**
Then

"The kid went *nuts,*" Hayate said, shaking his head and looking forlornly at his ice cream.

Iruka dodged around another Fair-goer, twisting to avoid the woman's cotton candy. "Well, it sounds like he had reason to lose it," Iruka said, eyeballing the roller coaster as they headed toward it. He hadn't figured out yet how he was going to get Hayate *on* the roller coaster, but he was sure there was a way. His gaze lit on the booth outside, selling Dynamites. There was nothing more alcoholic than a Dynamite. That was his answer.

"Yeah, but I've never seen *anything* like it," Hayate muttered at his ice cream.

Iruka took two Dynamites, paid for them, and handed one to his friend. Hayate looked confused as he took it, as if he'd forgotten where they were. "C'mon, Hayate-kun," Iruka teased, dark eyes winking. "The Fair only comes through every few years. Drink up."

Hayate looked for a moment as if he might argue, seeming older than his twenty years. Then he relented, smiling slightly and downing the drink.

Iruka grinned and followed suit. With a drink in the other Chuunin's belly, the path to the roller coaster was that much closer. "We should--" Iruka began, tugging on Hayate's sleeve to drag him through the crowd closer to the ride.

"Ohhhh, no," Hayate said, eyes widening as he realized where they were going. "I--um--ah! Genma! Iruka, come meet my friend Genma. Genma, you heard about Inaho, right? Do you know what happened after he got back?"

Iruka stopped, looking longingly at the ride not twenty feet away. If Hayate started to talk shop, they were *never* going to get on it.

"Inaho," the new man--an older man, at least in his mid-twenties--said slowly. "Oh, yeah. Don't worry--he's in the mental ward. They'll get him patched up, okay?" He smiled, features transforming from passably attractive to charming. "What are you doing talking about that at a Fair, anyway? The Ninja Fair only comes around every few years!"

"That's what *I* keep saying," Iruka said, grinning.

Genma's attention shifted, and he smiled back. "Have you been on the Cliff?" He hooked a thumb toward the roller coaster Iruka'd been aiming for.

Iruka shook his head, tossing a dark look toward Hayate.

"You have to go. Come on, I know the guy who's working the ride. I can get us *right* past the line--"

Iruka had to run to catch up, using every bit of Chuunin skill he owned to duck and dodge through the crowd after Genma. He firmly put all shop talk out of his mind, refusing to even think of things that might dampen the mood, and flashed a grin at Genma when the other ninja looked back. "Who is this?" he murmured when Hayate caught up.

Hayate smiled slightly and shrugged. "Just a friend. We're going camping next week, if you want to come . . .?"

Iruka hesitated, then nodded. "Let me check my mission file, but I think I should be in town . . ."

Hayate grinned. "Good. It's a fun bunch of guys. I think you'll like it."

**
Now

He sat, naked except for underwear beneath a blanket, a cup of tea cradled in his hands.

"No sleeping draughts," Kakashi was muttering. From the sound, he was digging through the cupboards in the kitchen. Iruka couldn't gather the energy to actually look up.

"I don't have trouble sleeping," he said numbly, his voice nearly a whisper. He stared at his reflection in the chamomile and honey tea, watching it waver when he moved.

"Not even cough syrup," Kakashi muttered. A silver and black shape made a beeline for the bathroom and began to shuffle through the medicine cabinet.

"I don't get sick very often," Iruka murmured. "I think I gave the last of it to Tadako-san, down the hall." He tried not to think. Thinking was bad. Thinking led to memories.

He shuddered as his mind started to swirl down again, remembering being pushed back, unable to control his body as Something Else took over--

He focused on his breath. In. Out. In. Out.

--something oily and slick and he couldn't stop himself there was bleach and--

"Kakashi," Iruka said, hearing the strangled note to his own voice. Would Kakashi hear it? Had he even spoken out loud, or had he just thought it? Oh gods, he couldn't do this alone, he couldn't stop thinking about

--laughter and giggling and the way his parents screamed when they died--

It hadn't happened *it hadn't happened.*

--he was cold so cold always so cold screaming in a cell and Ibiki was looking sick and it was too cold--

No No No No No. "Kakashi," Iruka choked out again, or tried to, tried to focus on his reflection in the tea and anything but what he was seeing in his head.

--pain like he'd never felt and he wasn't feeling it just a jutsu just a jutsu he'd killed Naruto he'd *killed*--

"Iruka. Iruka."

The voice was like a lifeline. Iruka gasped, realized he'd barely been breathing, looked into mismatched eyes on a slender face in front of him. The teacup was gone, his hands were being held in pale ones, rubbed to warm them. He focused on the eyes.

--eyes ripped out of his head being stolen by foreign chakra--

He hadn't realized he'd whimpered until Kakashi shook him, fingers wrapping around the back of Iruka's neck.

"Come on," Kakashi said softly, "come on. You can do this. Look at me. Hear my voice?"

Iruka nodded, gulping air, feeling so cold why was everything so cold?

"Good. That's good. Keep listening, all right? Keep listening to my voice and, ah, just--just think about something happy. Think about . . . think about . . . um . . ."

"You," Iruka croaked, half desperate and Kakashi's stammering wasn't helping.

"Yes! Me! Me?"

It eased a broken laugh from Iruka.

"Right. Me. And, uh, great food! Because you love my food. And the ice cream."

"I love the ice cream," Iruka agreed, latching on to that thought.

But ice cream was cold, and he was cold and--

"No, no no," Kakashi said quickly, "it's all right. Iruka. Iruka!"

He took a deep, shuddering breath and focused again. Worried red and silver eyes looked back at him, peering into his face as if they could read his very soul.

He felt like his soul was being eaten.

"Good. Good. Keep looking at me. Think about . . . soup. Potato and leek soup. With the chunks of things, and you didn't realize it was potato-leek soup and you thought it had gone bad--"

Iruka found a smile from somewhere, holding the memory up to the light and basking in the glow.

Kakashi's concern melted away. All but his eyes, which remained shadowed. "Yes. See? There. You're all right. You're fine."

Iruka wondered who Kakashi was reassuring, but didn't ask.

"Are you all right now?" the Jounin murmured.

Iruka nodded slowly. The worst of the memories were fading again, lurking in the back of his mind to erupt later. He shivered, and Kakashi reached around to pull the blanket higher on his shoulders. "I can't do this," he murmured softly, staring at his hands. They were shaking. He couldn't feel them shake.

"You can't go back," Kakashi said, just as soft. "You can only go through it. You can do this."

It was a terrifying thought. The worst was that he knew Kakashi was right; he couldn't stop from going through this no matter how badly he wanted to.

He could only hope he *got* through it.

**

Kakashi watched the other man surreptitiously, his hitai-ate sitting on the coffee table so his blind spot wouldn't block anything. He'd been using his Sharingan in such a way for hours--simply to see, unable to turn it off--and he could feel the headache building. It didn't matter. It couldn't matter.

Iruka was staring into his tea, eyes swimming in memories. But he wasn't shaking. He wasn't pale. His pupils weren't dilated, and his breathing was normal.

Kakashi glanced at the clock. Ten minutes since the last attack. They seemed to be coming every thirteen. He glanced at Iruka again.

"Want something to eat?" he asked, unable to just sit and wait. There had to be something he could do. Some way to stop this cycle of panic. Something he could do *now*, not in fifteen minutes when the attack was over and he could leave.

He was going to his place, to get the drugged tea that hadn't worked before. It hadn't worked because of Mizuki, but he was pretty sure that with the alien chakra gone, it would just make Iruka sleep.

Sleep would be good.

Iruka jerked and looked at him. "I'm sorry?" he said, voice still hoarse.

"Something to eat?" Kakashi repeated.

Iruka shook his head slowly. His eyes were already starting to gloss over with memory.

"Iruka," Kakashi said quietly.

The Chuunin looked at him.

"Stay with me. Tell me about . . . about the jutsu." Ibiki's fucking jutsu. If Iruka was going to think about it anyway, Kakashi could at least root him further in the present moment. Making him speak was one way.

He had no idea if it would work.

Iruka licked his lips. The tea in his cup shivered. "It--he--what do you want to know?"

He didn't want to know any of it. He wanted to pretend like it had never happened, like Iruka hadn't been hurt--not physically, not mentally. The scratches down the sides of Iruka's face were angry and red. "Whatever you remember," Kakashi said, sounding calm, sounding bored, because if he showed any sympathy it would make things worse and if he acknowledged his own terror he wouldn't be able to handle it.

Iruka would just have to learn to deal with it. All of it. One thing at a time, it wasn't so much for a ninja to handle. All at once . . .

Iruka would have to learn. Kakashi wasn't going to let him go.

The tea shivered more. It sloshed against the edge of the cup. Iruka went pale, eyes unseeing. Kakashi took the mug, moving swiftly, realizing that rather than keep him in the moment the possible vocalization had catapulted Iruka back into the memory.

"Iruka," Kakashi snapped, trying to break through the haze before it got too deep. Only once had he been unable to. They'd ended up back in the shower, and he'd held the shuddering, sobbing body for nearly an hour before Iruka had come fully back to himself with an embarrassed blush and a stammering apology.

Kakashi had just kissed him silly. Still, he'd be damned if he was going to lose the Chuunin *again*.

"Don't--" Iruka said, beginning to pull away.

"Iruka," Kakashi snapped, grabbing broad shoulders and giving one good shake. "Iruka, listen to me."

Brown eyes flickered up for a bare instant, then away again.

"Iruka, listen to me, *look* at me. You're here. You're on the couch. You're safe and warm and no one is going to hurt you."

Iruka wouldn't look up. He shrunk back, a keening whimper starting to thread out of his throat. Kakashi tried to catch his gaze, but he just shifted it repeatedly, eyes down and full of fear.

"No," Iruka whispered. "No--"

Damn it, he *was* losing Iruka again. He grabbed the man, dodging a strike easily, and dragged him back into the bathroom. Back into the shower, flipping the water on cold and letting it pour over the both of them until Iruka stopped struggling, started coughing and sputtering, reality reflecting in his eyes.

"Stop--Kakashi--" he choked out around mouthfuls of water.

Kakashi shut off the tap and pulled Iruka out, drying him briskly, ignoring the man's feeble attempts to push him away.

"I can do--"

Kakashi pinned him against the wall, yanking his face up by the chin and peering into his eyes. Checking for sanity, for the remnants of the waking nightmare, for lingering fear.

Iruka's lips were pale, his wet hair dripping into his face. He was shivering.

More importantly, he was aware. Kakashi picked up the blanket he'd yanked off in the hall, wrapping it around the slightly shorter man. He took them both back to the couch, settling down cross-legged, pulling Iruka against him.

"I'm ok--"

Kakashi ignored him, rubbing at arms under the cloth, doing his best to transfer his own heat over to Iruka. He waited, knowing the emotional aftershock would hit in a moment despite the Chuunin's efforts to keep it from happening.

"I'm fine," Iruka insisted again, quietly. He was starting to shake harder, though. "I'm--I--"

"I know," Kakashi said soothingly, wrapping a hand around Iruka's head and pressing the Chuunin's face into his chest.

Iruka's breath hiccoughed, broke, sobbed out.

Kakashi could only sit there, waiting for the storm to pass. He rubbed the younger man's spine, and thought of all the ways he was going to hurt Ibiki. He relaxed his grip when Iruka shifted, the young man turning more fully so he could wrap his arms around Kakashi, face still buried. Kakashi just held him, kept his hands stroking up and down the muscled back. Over and over, trying to pretend like none of this was happening, like his lover hadn't been tortured repeatedly over the last week. First Naruto, and then Ibiki, then Mizuki, and that fucking chakra-eating jutsu . . .

It took time, but Iruka calmed again. Sobs dwindled away into shivering breath. He stopped shaking quite so hard.

"Can you stay here?" Kakashi said softly. "For--" he thought, and said, "Six and a half minutes?" He could make it from Iruka's apartment to his own and back in that time.

If he really moved.

"I--yeah," Iruka said weakly. "Why?"

"I'm going to get a sedative from my apartment." He stroked dark hair away from an ashen face.

To his surprise, Iruka winced but didn't protest.

Kakashi sat the other man up, pulled his mask down to brush a kiss over cold lips, and stood. He tucked the blanket more firmly around Iruka. "I'll be right back."

Iruka smiled wanly. "Six and a half minutes. I'm timing you."

Kakashi beamed, then raced out the door.

**

It took him five minutes and fifty-three seconds to get back to Iruka's. Iruka was curled in the corner between the couch and the wall, arms wrapped around his head, breathing, "No, no--another minute--I can--don't--stop--"

"Iruka," Kakashi said sharply.

The man flinched, and wild eyes looked up. He was going again.

"Stay here," Kakashi said, kneeling in front of the trembling form. "Stay with me."

Iruka's eyes slowly calmed. He lurched forward, hands grabbing at Kakashi's shirt, face pressing into the join of neck and shoulder. "Help--" he begged.

"I've got you," Kakashi said, gathering the Chuunin up and lifting him back to the couch. "It's all right. Just breathe." He could feel the ninja calming, slowly, as his grip on reality got firmer.

Don't leave him alone. Fair enough. Kakashi always had his worst times when he was alone, so it made sense.

He waited until Iruka was calm again, then turned the water on to boil and hoped it would do so before the other man had another attack.

It didn't.

The kettle was whistling shrilly by the time Iruka finally calmed again, lying shivering on the couch, fighting to keep from crying. Kakashi supposed everyone wanted to keep some sort of dignity, even in cases like this.

Kakashi left him for a moment, putting the right leaves in boiling water and letting them steep. He spent the next ten minutes coaxing liquids into Iruka, taking the mug when the man's hands trembled too badly to hold it himself. Thankfully, the sedative acted swiftly.

Iruka was asleep before the next attack happened.

Kakashi set the half-full kettle on a stove burner and left it there, heat off. They'd probably need it later. He doubted the drug would work for as long as it was supposed to.

He glanced in at Iruka one more time, then went and shrugged into his vest, yanking his hitai-ate on.

He needed to pay Ibiki a little visit before Iruka woke.

*******************