Title: Former Lives
Author: JBMcDragon
Status: COMPLETE AND ALL POSTED!
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 7
Chapter 8

JB



Chapter Nine
Now

Kakashi spent the day watching Iruka cycle in and out of panic attacks. He used his chakra, once, to check on Iruka when he napped.

At the first brush of energy, Iruka woke screaming. Kakashi didn't do it again.

He seemed sane. Kakashi repeated that to himself as often as he had to. Iruka was still sane. Ibiki had said if the Chuunin made it through the night, the outlook was good.

Iruka was still sane. Sobbing, half-hysterical, panicking, pleading--but sane.

The day passed, the sun setting with streaks of color coming through the window. Iruka napped fitfully on the couch, undisturbed by orange and yellow light as much as the images in his head. It was worse, Kakashi thought wearily, to watch someone he cared for struggle through those emotions than to fight through them himself. He slumped in the kitchen chair, too tired even to cook. He stared at the grain of wood and hoped he hadn't lied.

He hadn't lied. The panic attacks were getting farther apart. Nearly an hour between them, now, instead of thirteen minutes. That was good. That was very good. He couldn't think beyond that. He'd used every ounce of energy keeping Iruka as focused as possible, bringing him back when the man descended into waking nightmare.

He should have killed Ibiki when he'd had the chance.

Someone rapped at the door. He didn't bother looking up. "Come in," he called, and hoped it wasn't an enemy. He didn't have the energy to fight right then.

Iruka woke with a start, looking around out of bleary eyes. Kakashi gave him a small smile, then looked up at the opening door.

Shizune's head popped around, framed by black hair. "Hiashi said Iruka-sensei's memories had returned. I thought I'd check on him." She smiled softly. "Hello, Iruka-san."

He struggled up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and dragging greasy hair away from his face. "Shizune-san," he returned, glancing around the apartment as if he wasn't sure of where he was.

She came in, slipping off her shoes and closing the door behind her. Kakashi didn't bother standing. He watched as she padded quietly across the room, kneeling in front of Iruka--who still looked shellshocked.

Kakashi imagined they both did, really, but tried to pretend his mask hid the worst of it.

"I'd just like to see your eyes, check your pulse," Shizune said, talking through every step she was taking.

Iruka frowned. "I'm not an idiot, Shizune."

Kakashi smirked slightly. Iruka wasn't the best patient, he'd discovered. If you treated him like he was as fragile as he really was, he got . . . well, cranky. Kakashi couldn't blame him for it, though.

"I know," Shizune murmured, checking his pupils with a little light she summoned. "You're a very intelligent, empathic teacher who's been through trauma not unlike something a Jounin might be expected to handle." She switched eyes. "But you're not a Jounin, and Hiashi was concerned."

Kakashi saw Iruka swallow. "Ibiki said it would get better," he murmured, voice hoarse.

Shizune sat back, apparently satisfied, and sighed. "It will. Are you having panic attacks?"

"Every hour," Kakashi answered.

Shizune didn't look at him, but nodded. "Your mind is having trouble coping with so much information all at once."

Iruka blanched.

"They *were* every thirteen minutes," Kakashi added, scowling at his lover's expression.

Shizune paused. "Oh," she said. "Then, that's good. Your mind is stressed, but working on it." She smiled. "That's very good." She pushed up to her feet, and neither Kakashi nor Iruka moved. "In the meantime, I'd like you both to get some rest."

Iruka frowned.

"As much as possible," Shizune corrected. "Kakashi, you specifically. We can't afford to have you off for any length of time."

Kakashi slapped a bland expression over the snarl that wanted to emerge. "Of course," he said mildly.

Shizune looked sharply at him, then started toward the door. "I'll check up on you in the morning. Try to get some sleep."

**

Neither of them slept that night. Not for more than thirty minutes at a stretch, which was when Iruka would fall into dreams that turned into nightmares. Kakashi usually woke him, pinning him to the bed or the wall or the floor--wherever Kakashi could pin him.
It was a hellishly long night.

At four a.m., Iruka decided he was done sleeping. The nightmares weren't worth it. He stumbled out of bed, assuring Kakashi he was fine, and crashed on the couch with a book. He couldn't remember the words thirty seconds after he'd read them, but that wasn't the point. The point was to not think about anything.

A little over an hour later, he had another attack.

**

When Shizune knocked on Iruka's door that morning, there was no answer. She hesitated, then finally just opened it and peeked in. It was a doctor's prerogative, or something like that.

Kakashi and Iruka were curled on the floor, Kakashi sleeping while Iruka was cradled on his chest, awake.

Black eyes looked dully at her, rimmed with red. "How long?" Iruka whispered.

Kakashi twitched, a hand rising to curl further around a tan shoulder. His eyes didn't open.

Shizune shook her head. "It'll get better," she promised.

**
Years before

"Sucks to be you," Mizuki said, watching Iruka prod at a hand-shaped bruise on his upper arm. "What did you do?"

Iruka shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it. He really hated his uncle sometimes, and just because the man had found him whispering to Kotetsu about making out with Hisa--

He still wasn't sure if his uncle had been mad because he'd made out with Hisa, because Hisa was older than him, because Hisa had been drunk and was underage, or because he'd told someone about it.

Or maybe just because his uncle was an ass sometimes.

"Well, not much you can do about it," Mizuki said with a shrug. "Your family's all weird anyway, you've said so yourself." He dug around in his pack, finally pulling out a kunai. It glittered in the afternoon sun.

"What's that for?" Iruka asked, frowning. This wasn't right. Something niggled at the back of his mind; something he should be remembering.

"I *told* you to behave better," his uncle said from behind him.

Iruka yelped and jumped, whipping around--the field behind him changed, warping into a dank cell made of rock. His uncle grabbed his arms, holding him still. "Go ahead, Mizuki," the man said.

Iruka twisted, trying to get free. Mizuki's skin and hair turned oily and black, flowing down his body and licking up Iruka's legs. "This," the Mizuki-darkness said, "is going to hurt."

Iruka began screaming. He thrashed, trying to escape, looking for help, but all he could see was Ibiki standing calmly, hands folded, bored as they began to skin him, starting by peeling back his ear--

He woke screaming, clawing at Kakashi's face and trying to smash back, away--

Kakashi's face.

Hands wrapped in the man's shirt, Kakashi's fingers firmly holding his wrists, the world came crashing in on him.

Not a memory.

Hadn't happened.

He was safe. No kunai. No uncle. No Mizuki. No Ibiki.

The relief was overwhelming. Muscles, rigid with fear, relaxed suddenly. He breathed, shaking, feeling strong arms wrap him up tightly against a wiry chest.

"It's all right," Kakashi said softly. "You're coming out of them faster."

He knew he should be glad, but could only manage relief that he was awake. The dream was fading. He took a deep breath, then another, trying to get the shaking back under control.

He'd forgotten his uncle's anger about Hisa. He closed his eyes and breathed in Kakashi's scent, letting old bitterness wash over him for a moment. He should tell his uncle about *Kakashi.* That would be funny. Watch the man flip out on him *now.*

"You're smiling."

Iruka laughed softly. "Am I?"

Kakashi kissed his forehead, cloth separating lips and skin. "What are you thinking about?"

Iruka pondered the question, then decided to go with a half-truth. He thought about saying it, and began to blush. He took a deep breath and said it anyway. "Sex. With you."

Kakashi was silent.

Iruka began to mentally cringe. He knew he shouldn't have said anything. Talking about sex was never good, and he sounded like some sort of pervert--

"We could arrange that," Kakashi said slowly, voice nearly a purr. Then, more hesitantly, "You sure you're feeling better?"

That was probably an out. Kakashi wasn't in the mood, not while Iruka was having nightmares and too weak to stop the panic attacks-- "We don't have to."

Kakashi tugged his mask down, leaning in to kiss Iruka softly. "You've changed your mind?" he asked, sounding almost wistful.

Iruka began to say yes, he had, and then remembered the conversation from several days--one day?--before. He was supposed to be telling the *truth.* They were *supposed* to be talking about these things.

He struggled with the words, lingering nightmare making it harder while the desire to anger his uncle--even absent--faded. "I . . . I didn't change my mind," he mumbled. "I mean, if you don't want to--"

Kakashi snorted, shifting rapidly. "I *always* want to. *Especially* with you. If you think you're not about to panic again."

Iruka squirmed as a hand made its way under his shirt. "Oh. Ah--" he swallowed against the stroke of skin over skin. "I'm not, um, going to panic." Kakashi was nibbling on his ears. He couldn't *think* when Kakashi nibbled on his ears.

At the moment, that was a good thing.

**

Shizune waited impatiently at Iruka's door, listening to someone bang around inside. She supposed the cursing was a good sign; better, at least, than the half-dead men she had seen earlier. It took a bit, but the door finally opened.

Iruka blinked at her, still pale, half-dressed, hair tangled and sweaty. Beyond him, she saw a pale length of skin topped by silver hair.

It took her a moment to realize that was Kakashi.

On the couch.

Naked.

"So," Shizune said, "you're feeling better?"

Iruka didn't seem to realize what she'd gotten an eyeful of. He dragged hair out of his face, holding his slightly too big pajama bottoms up with one hand. "I--yes. They're still coming but . . . but less." He smiled slightly.

Shizune just nodded. "Good. Keep, ah . . ." she grinned. "Resting."

**

"Iruka-SENSEI!" Moegi screeched, trailing a banner of half-torn paper as she launched herself at him.

Iruka caught her, perforce, and staggered backward. He gave Kakashi--standing at the open door, looking bland--a wild-eyed look. "Hi, Moegi-kun," he said automatically as more children streamed into the apartment, carrying hand-made cards and waving around drawings on heavy newsprint. It had been three days since his memories had returned, three days in which the panic attacks had slowed to just a few times a day.

He hadn't felt safe around his students, had been avoiding doing anything but staying in his apartment. Apparently, his students had other ideas.

"Nishi-sensei is teaching us 'cause you're sick, but she said you're gonna get better, right?" Konohamaru demanded, arms folded across his little chest and red towel tied securely around his neck. His face was a mask of accusation, as if Iruka had been shirking his duties by 'getting sick.'

"Yes, yes, I'm going to get better," Iruka agreed quickly, sitting down heavily on the floor when another child attached himself to the Chuunin's leg.

Moegi leaned back, grinning broadly enough to show a missing tooth. "We made pictures for you, Sensei!" One fist shot upward, the banner following it with a frantic rustle and blocking Iruka's view of nearly everything else.

"That's . . . beautiful," Iruka lied finally, catching the other corner and picking it up so he could read it. In overly careful kanji it read, "Get well soon, Iruka-sensei."

"We like you lots better than Nishi-sensei," Moegi whispered loudly.

"Iruka-sensei, read my card!" an unidentified voice shouted.

"No! He's gotta read *my* card *first!*" Konohamaru bellowed back. Iruka winced, waiting for a resultant crash. When it didn't happen, he peeked around the banner.

Kakashi was standing between the boys, looking bored and dangerous all at once. They were both staring at him. Sensing danger was a finely honed attribute in a ninja village; even the children could do it.

Kakashi smiled.

"Why don't we put all the cards on the coffee table," a familiar voice--Nishi-sensei, Iruka realized with relief--called.

There was the hammering of footsteps and slapping down of paper and hands, a quick scuffle with a few hissed whispers, and then the kids were piling on top of Iruka, bestowing hugs and--

--blocking the light, taking the air making it small and dark--

Gods, he couldn't panic now. Not with two dozen small children trying to wish him well--

"Kakashi--" he managed, forcing a smile he didn't feel as his vision swam with children changing into monsters-rats-flesh-eating chakra--

"All right, that's enough," he heard Kakashi drawl, and suddenly there was air again and light and the children were scattering and laughing but he still couldn't *breathe*--

"Bye, Iruka-sensei!"

"Get well soon!"

"Come *on* Moegi!"

"Nishi-sensei, can we--"

He trembled, still sitting on the floor, swallowing back fear and trying desperately to focus on reality. Slowly, he managed it, and found himself held firmly against Kakashi's chest. He relaxed.

"Better?" Kakashi asked quietly.

Iruka nodded. He breathed slowly, trying to bring his heart rate back down.

"Nishi thought the brats would feel better if they saw you were all right. I didn't think it'd hurt." There was an apology buried in those words somewhere, and Iruka had enough mental presence to realize Kakashi had nothing to apologize for.

"It was good," Iruka managed after a bit. Despite the horrific moment he'd had where he'd thought he was going to panic entirely. He glanced back toward the papers smashed onto the coffee table. One drifted toward the floor, and he picked it up. It was almost illegible, but he *thought* it said, "Dear Iruka-sensei, please don't die." He smiled wryly and set it back down.

"You'll be back to beating lessons into their little skulls in no time," Kakashi added brightly.

Iruka chuckled, though it was weak. He closed his eyes when he felt a kiss pressed into the shell of his ear, heard Kakashi take a deep, quiet breath. "You hungry?" the Jounin asked.

"Not really," he murmured. "I think I need a shower, actually." He stank of fear. Even he could smell it, and that was bad. He could only imagine what Kakashi scented.

"I could help with that, too," Kakashi suggested, a purr in his voice.

Iruka felt his face go pink. "Ah--" He laughed uncomfortably. "If . . . yeah. Okay." A clothed nose nuzzled against the back of his neck.

"You know," Kakashi said slowly, "you've just said yes to everything since . . . ah, since you were possessed. And we talked."

Iruka stared at his feet. "That's . . . bad?" he asked slowly. Confusion was spilling through his mind. First he'd said no, and no was bad. Now he was saying yes, and yes was bad?

Kakashi sighed, sounding frustrated. "Well . . . no . . . but if you don't want to do things, that's okay too."

Iruka began to pull away. Damn it. *Damn* it. Mizuki'd been right, and he wasn't great at other things and-- "If you don't want to," he began, but was interrupted.

Kakashi grabbed his ponytail, arm reaching across his chest to grab his other shoulder. With a pull Iruka found himself turned to face the other man and pressed back into the floor, moving quickly enough that he should have smacked his head. Kakashi was too careful for that, though. A hand cushioned the impact, another yanked down the mask and Iruka found himself kissed. Very thoroughly kissed.

Warm skin pressed against his chest and rough carpet at his back. Strong hands smoothed over his ribs, sparking heat and promising pleasure. He threaded his fingers through Kakashi's hair--very soft, very fine. He parted his lips when a tongue stroked against his mouth. It whispered across his teeth and dipped past them. Then it withdrew, and Kakashi said against him, "I always, always--" he kissed Iruka again, teeth dragging over his lower lip, "--*always* want to."

Iruka swallowed, pressed against the floor, Jounin braced above him on one elbow.

"And because I always want to," Kakashi said, leaning away slightly, "I don't want you pushing yourself hard enough that you don't enjoy it, and it becomes something else to be stressed over, and then you don't want *any* sex."

Iruka sat up as Kakashi leaned back farther, the Jounin sighing and ruffling a hand through his silver hair.

"I--" Iruka began, then had to swallow again. "That is--" He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. Lust was busily crowding out all thoughts, and he was having trouble figuring out why Kakashi was so far away when they *could* be having sex *right then.* "We've had shower sex before," he pointed out when he could think. "It's not stressful."

Kakashi seemed to brighten. "Really?"

Iruka nodded.

"Oh! Well, then--" He grabbed Iruka's wrist and hauled them both to their feet. "Let's go clean you up."

**

It had been an exhausting three weeks, but Iruka felt a certain sense of relief as he stood behind his desk, looking over his classroom for the first time in too long. He still had flashbacks--panic attacks--the worst possible nightmares . . . but they were lessening.

And the sex was getting steadily better. He found himself almost smirking when a shadow darkened the doorway and he jumped, managing not to flinch. "Hello, Shikamaru," Iruka said, glancing up as the young Chuunin slouched in. "Can I help you?"

"Ah . . . no . . ." Shikamaru looked bothered--but that was a normal state of affairs--and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm supposed to help you for the week."

Iruka froze, lesson plan halfway from his duffel to the desk. He should have expected it, really. First day back at school, of course they'd put a guard on him. Shikamaru didn't stand a chance in a fair fight--genius he might be, but he'd still only been a shinobi for *months* compared to Iruka's years. Still, the young man would put up enough of a fight--hopefully--to give the kids time to get out and get help.

"Oh," Iruka said slowly. His relief had vanished, replaced with a familiar sense of resignation. Things weren't all right, no matter how hard he tried to pretend. "Well. That's good." He summoned a smile from deep within. As difficult as it was for him, it couldn't be easy for Shikamaru, either. The boy wouldn't look at him. "If you're going to help, then help. I need that trashcan over here. And the skeleton can go on the other side of the blackboard." It didn't really need to go anywhere, but he might as well make Shikamaru *think* he was being useful.

Children trickled in for the morning classes, shuffling toward their desks.

"Iruka-sensei?" Udon asked, snuffling as he sat down. "What's a trigger?"

Iruka glanced up, halfway through putting things back to rights. Nishi had tried to keep everything as close as possible to the way he'd had it, but no one--except maybe Kakashi--could remember *exactly* how it had all been. "A trigger?" he asked absently. "It's how you fire a crossbow or some other projectile weapon." He took the pens out of the mug sitting on the desk and poured them into a drawer. That was his special tea mug, just for willowbark tea when the kids were getting *really* annoying.

He glanced up at the silence.

Udon sat at his desk, various students around him now paying attention. The rest of the class was still wandering slowly in. Udon looked confused. "What's wrong?" Iruka asked. Maybe he didn't know what 'projectile' was.

"Why did my mom think your triggers might hurt us?" The boy flushed, watching his pudgy fingers trace patterns on the desk. "I overheard . . ."

"You were sick for really long, Sensei," Moegi added, "And Nishi-sensei wouldn't say why."

He'd known he was going to have to answer questions. He'd hoped it would be delayed a day or two. Iruka glanced toward the door, where the last group of students was hovering. He ignored Shikamaru and the preteen's intense discomfort. "All right," Iruka said loudly, watching little faces snap up to look at him. "Everyone take your seats!"

He put his lesson plan away, mentally preparing himself for an onslaught. The nice feelings he'd had that morning were gone, replaced with a cold, sick knot in his stomach.

But he was teaching, he had to remind himself firmly. Shizune wouldn't let him teach if she thought he was a danger. Things were getting *better.*

When he heard the students settle down, he took a deep breath and looked up, forcing a smile. "Udon has asked what triggers are, and Moegi wanted to know why I was sick," he said.

"Why *were* you sick, Sensei?" a voice called from the back.

"Well," Iruka said slowly, "I wasn't really sick." He paused, organizing his thoughts. "Do you remember a few months ago, when those missing ninja tried to kidnap us, and the ANBU came?"

There were a lot of nodding heads, and a few consternated looks.

"And, even though we're ninja, it was scary."

More nodding heads. One intrepid child announced, "I got to stay home from school for a *week*!"

Iruka suppressed a smile. "That's right," he began, and was interrupted with, "It wasn't *that* scary."

He frowned and pinned the boy with a firm look. "I was scared."

"*You*, Iruka-sensei?" Moegi said breathlessly.

"Of course. Just because we're ninja doesn't mean we don't get scared. It just means we have to be brave and do what we need to do anyway." He paused, letting the kids assimilate that. Then he continued, "Three weeks ago, something happened that scared me very badly." Goosebumps rose on his skin, his hackles lifting at the memories. He took a deep breath and ordered his thoughts. Just teaching. His students had to learn about trauma at some point. He was just teaching. "Sometimes," he managed to continue after a moment, "when a person is scared badly enough, their minds have trouble recovering. They see things that remind them of what was scary, and then they get scared all over again just remembering it."

"Like when I fell off the ladder and I didn't want to climb the jungle gym?" a little girl asked, fingers in her mouth.

"Yes, exactly like that," Iruka said. It wasn't really, but close enough. The children understood that; several of them nodded wisely. "And sometimes if a scary thing happens, you get nightmares. Do you ever get nightmares after watching a frightening movie?"

The kids glanced at each other, and as a few of the braver ones nodded, others took it up.

"Right. So the thing that scared me made me very afraid, and I was having nightmares and kept remembering it, and getting scared all over again." He paused. "So I stayed home, because I couldn't be a ninja right then." He waited for the inevitable questions.

It took his students a little bit, mulling that over. Then a tentative hand lifted.

"Yes, Kieko?"

"It must have been really scary," she said.

He'd been expecting a question, but these were children; they'd say anything. He nodded. "It was."

"Are you gonna stop being a ninja?" a voice said from the back.

"Of course not," Iruka said with as much assurance as he could muster. "This is just like getting hurt, only instead of my body it was my mind. Do you all remember when those missing ninja hurt Akeno?" He couldn't forget it, even if the stab wound had healed well.

Heads nodded. Akeno rubbed his leg.

"And, after a while, it healed, right?"

More nods.

"Well, an injury to the mind is just like that. It takes time, but it heals." Saying it made it real; the icy cold in his stomach melted a bit.

"Um--um--why was my mom worried about whether you had triggers?" Udon asked. "She doesn't want you to have crossbows?"

Iruka smiled slightly. "No, in this case a trigger is one of the things that makes me remember the frightening things. She just didn't want me to get scared around you guys."

"If you get scared around us, I'll give you a hug!" Kieko said.

"Don't worry, Iruka-sensei!" Konohamaru shouted, leaping to his feet. "We'll protect you! Team Konohamaru will keep things from making you scared!"

"Will that happen to us?" Akeno asked quietly. Konohamaru looked annoyed at being interrupted mid-monologue, but worried enough at the answer to settle down.

"It could," Iruka said. At some point, they'd have to learn a ninja's life wasn't pretty. Better to learn it now. "And if it does, you should talk to one of your senseis or your guardian."

"Did you have nightmares?" Kieko asked.

"Yes," Iruka said honestly. He was still having nightmares, but they were less.

"Did they scare you?" she asked.

"Yes," Iruka said again, falling into the teacher/student pattern. He wore it like a cloak, fending off the horror of the past weeks, using the familiarity to beat back the resignation that had threatened earlier. "Everyone gets scared, and that's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Did you *cry*?" a suspicious voice asked.

"I did." He didn't want to think about that. As much as he told the kids it wasn't something to be ashamed of, he couldn't shake the embarrassment.

"Did your mommy and daddy make it better?" Moegi asked, looking like she might cry herself.

Iruka hesitated. "Someone very important to me helped, yes," he said finally.

"Dummy! Iruka doesn't have a mommy and daddy!" Akeno hissed from the row behind Moegi. "He's a *grown up*!"

"Even grown ups have mommies and daddies," Konohamaru said superiorly. "Right, Iruka-sensei?"

"Most do, yes," he said with a smile, beginning to relax.

"How come when I have nightmares I don't get to stay home from school?" Udon said, sounding like he'd been cheated and only was just realizing it.

"Well, that's up to your parents."

"Were your nightmares really bad?" Kieko asked.

Iruka hesitated, stomach knotting up again. "Yes," he said finally.

"*And* he remembered it during the day," Konohamaru said, looking down his nose at Udon.

"Did you have nightmares during the day?" Moegi asked, wide-eyed.

Iruka hesitated. Nightmares during the day? He supposed it was an accurate description. "Yes," he said. "That's why it's important to make sure someone who cares about you knows, so they can help you stop having nightmares during the day." He paused, glancing around the room. Maybe they could stop talking about this now, and get back to the lesson . . .

Another hand shot up in the back.

Or maybe not.

**

He stood on Kakashi's doorstep, shaking, cold, trying to breathe through panic. He pounded on the Jounin's door, not caring who he woke up. The moon gave him enough light to see by, but not much more.

Kakashi opened it after a moment, wearing soft flannel pants and his mask. Starlight turned his skin a pearly white, dusted his hair with blue. He stepped aside silently, a hand feathering down onto the space between Iruka's shoulder blades.

Iruka went inside wordlessly, trying to clear nightmare images from his mind.

"You're freezing," Kakashi murmured, closing the door before wrapping his arms around Iruka. Iruka leaned into the narrow chest, hiding his face in the crook between neck and shoulder.

"Forgot a coat," he said, huddled into the other man, seeking heat. It eased through his T-shirt slowly, broad hands soothing up and down his back, rubbing away the trembling.

"Come on," Kakashi murmured, and tugged him toward the bathroom.

Iruka stood and watched as the Jounin ran water until it steamed, then plugged the drain and let the tub fill. While it was doing that, Kakashi turned and slid his hands under Iruka's shirt, pulling it off softly. "What happened?"

Iruka waited until the shirt was gone and he could wrap his arms back around himself, conserving body heat, before answering. "Nightmare," he said finally, through chattering teeth.

"All right," Kakashi soothed. "It's over now." He pulled off his mask, putting it on the counter without looking in the mirror, put a hand on Iruka's waist to balance him and tugged at the Chuunin's pants.

Iruka settled a hand on Kakashi's shoulder for stability, stepping out of cloth, watching as Kakashi did the same before pulling him carefully into the tub.

The water was hot on his chilled skin, and it chased the shivering up out of his bones, making it temporarily worse. Kakashi pulled him down until he was submerged to his ribcage, leaning back against a strong chest, wiry arms wrapped securely around him. He began to relax slowly.

Achingly slowly.

He wanted to sleep, and not wake up for--'months,' his mind begged, and he quickly corrected with a more acceptable 'days.' He wanted to stay right there, safe and warm and--

He was *not* going to start crying. He latched onto anger instead, let it sweep through him. It left him feeling drained, but not tearful.

"What happened?" Kakashi asked softly, spooning water into his hand and letting it slide down Iruka's chest.

Iruka swallowed. "Kids. They had--questions." He closed his eyes and tried not to remember the nightmare. "They've posted Shikamaru in the classroom as a guard."

"You could take him," Kakashi said blandly.

"That's not the point," Iruka snapped, then just felt little and mean when Kakashi "Hmm"ed and kissed his ear. "Thank you," he murmured, the words feeling utterly inadequate.

"Nothing to thank me for," Kakashi returned, using one hand to sweep water droplets off the edge of the tub. It just left a wet streak, but they both pretended not to notice.

Iruka watched the ripple and swell of liquid with their every shift, the way it lapped around his chest when he inhaled. "Is this ever going to stop?" he asked quietly. He'd told the kids it would heal, but sometimes . . . sometimes he wondered.

"Probably not entirely," Kakashi answered. Iruka nearly flinched at the honesty, and at the same time was grateful for it. "But you're already better."

Fuck 'better.' He'd had a moment in the teacher's lounge when he thought Shikamaru might actually have to do something. A brush of chakra against his, and suddenly he thought it was invading, couldn't stop remembering the way it had felt--

Shikamaru's shadow had rippled outward like a living thing, freezing him in place. It had given him the time he'd needed to work himself out of the flashback without doing something that could have alarmed anyone. He'd vomited into the toilet later.

"Have you thought about sedatives to help you sleep?" Kakashi asked quietly. Water dripped with bright noise from the Jounin's elbow to the tub as he brushed hair out of Iruka's face.

Iruka sighed. "I got a prescription from Shizune. I didn't have time to pick them up today." She'd prescribed anti-anxiety pills, too--'just in case,' she'd said--but he didn't want to pick those up at all. He didn't want his chakra adjusted anymore than necessary, and he knew from talks with Raidou that it was part of the way they regulated things.

Kakashi brushed a kiss over his temple, idle and soothing all at once. "It'll get better," he said. "You just have to give it time."

Iruka hesitated. "Are you sure?" He wanted Kakashi to be sure. The Jounin *knew* more than he did about things like this. Kakashi had seen people lose their minds and come back from the brink. He'd been through jutsu like what Ibiki had used, he'd probably felt the chakra-eating one and beaten it back, and--well, Iruka doubted Kakashi had ever been possessed, but other terrible things had happened.

"You're already better," Kakashi said in answer. He kissed Iruka's ear, breathing deeply. "You're sane. You have your memories back. The hard part is over."

Iruka closed his eyes. Of course. Kakashi was right. He shivered at the faint echoes of screaming that rattled through his mind; memories of that one long night, and the horrid days that had followed. They were over. He was getting better.

"And you can come here as often as you need."

He smiled slightly. "Thank you," he murmured again, fright sinking out of his bones.

In response, Kakashi just breathed a laugh over his neck, and gave him another kiss.

**
Many years ago . . .

"And then what happened?" Iruka asked softly, looking at his sandwich as if he wasn't having an intent discussion with Hayate. He kept expecting his father or uncle to come along--stupid, since one was dead and the other was on a mission--and he wanted to look like he was just chatting about unremarkable things.

"Then we had to put a condom on a banana," Hayate whispered, and giggled. "Like mine is ever gonna be banana-sized!"

Iruka grinned, even as he felt his face heat.

"Iruka--you're *blushing!*"

"Am not," he mumbled, even knowing he was. "Besides, it's just . . . you're not really supposed to talk about this stuff . . ." The authority figures in his life wouldn't react so badly when he did, if you *were* supposed to talk about it.

"Says who? Your stupid uncle? Sensei didn't think it was any big deal."

Iruka chewed on his lip, uncertain.

"You just gonna do what he says, just because he's bigger?" Hayate goaded, certainly not talking about Sensei anymore.

Iruka's shoulders straightened. "No! So--so--" the blush returned, despite his best attempts not to care that this was a forbidden subject. "Tell me what happened next."

Hayate grinned. "Well, all the girls had to go with Anko--you know her? She just became a Genin with the last graduating class--and us guys went with Mizuki--"

Iruka nodded firmly, feeling his face go more and more red. Damn it, he wasn't going to let some old fart dictate what he could and couldn't do--not when the reasons didn't make any sense!

Then Hayate got to a particularly graphic bit, and the right or wrong of it went out the window. What did it matter, when Hayate was explaining where *bits* went? Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Iruka listened and forgot about his uncle.

~End

A/N: Many thanks to Dark, my ever wunnerful beta-reader, who busted her cute little tush getting this last chapter back to me despite papers and exams. All hail Dark! :D

…Of course, one of her comments DID leave me with the image of a one-legged Kakashi, hopping around and going, "It's just a flesh wound!" *shakes head* ;-D

J