#nurse held my face to keep my head steady for the tongue depressor and had to stop to talk about how soft my face was

[circusclownproductions]

All the women love me for my simple but effective self care routine that keeps my skin clear and soft

[lazylazyhowl]

Hot-blooded (sasusaku oneshot)

Summary: Sasuke is a hot-blooded young man. He just forgot that.

Or,

Due to technical difficulties, the Sharingan's recording function is temporarily unavailable :(

In which,

Sakura is oblivious, Sasuke is too but then he isn’t, Sai spares no feeling, Naruto is confused, and Kakashi is having too much fun to intervene.

AO3 Link

 Ko-fi

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It started with a tickle inside his nose as he felt something crawl down the cavern of his left nostril.

“Sa-Sasuke-kun!”

Sakura’s focused green eyes went wide before him. The tongue depressor she had inside his mouth scraped against his bottom teeth as her otherwise steady hand quivered momentarily.

Snot, then – he decided with a vague sense of shame, feeling the trail of the watery substance creep ever closer to the precipice of his upper lip. It had been chilly at night in the hospital lately, but he’d been too offish to bother requesting more blankets. Well, that and few nurses bothered to (or dared) come to his room if they didn’t have to.

He didn’t blame them.

Really.

Covered in invisible chakra suppressing seals as it was, a whole room at the quiet end of a corridor reserved just for him when the hospital was still bursting at the seams with casualties from the war? He could have kissed Tsunade.

If he could get within 10-feet of the Hokage without the entire Anbu pinning him to the ground, that was.

But back on the topic, Sakura looked frantic for some reason as she hurried to lower the tongue depressor from his mouth. “Wait- Sasuke, let me-” She made to stand from her seat, placing a gentle hand on the bandaged stub of his arm, but he shifted away from her on the hospital bed and wiped at the incendiary evidence of how lame he felt at that moment.

When he brought his hand down, he paused and examined the blood on his knuckles. His first thought was to wonder if some wound had reopened.

It was common occurrence for Sasuke. He’d become desensitized to the little nits and pricks of negligible injuries, and, in the throes of battle especially, he would often find the blood before recognizing the pain associated with it.

But then the ticklish feeling in his nose caught his attention again, and he glanced down to see more and more drops of blood landing on the front of his hospital gown.

Not snot, was his second thought as Sakura shoved a handful of tissue paper in his face to staunch the blood.

And when her other hand came around the back of his neck and her warmth drew near to his side, and she started lecturing him to keep his head tilted down, not up, he was still deciding whether a nosebleed was a better or worse thing to have in front of her.

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“Maybe this is one of the consequences of overtaxing your eyes,” Sakura said, and he couldn’t help noticing the way the deep green shards in her irises contracted as she stared back into his eyes.

He hn’ed distractedly, trying not to shift against her soft palms on both sides of his face. He was uncomfortable with the proximity of their positions as well as the fact that her breaths smelt of mint and something distinctly Sakura. His hands—well, hand…was clammy, and his stomach felt funny.

She’d been behaving differently—than he expected. Though he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected. He didn’t know her. Not anymore. And what he was learning of this new her bothered him.

He supposed what got him most was the anchored grace she carried as his primary physician when his prevalent impression of her was still the little girl that used to chase him around the village, that blushed and stammered, that wore her heart on her sleeves. Not to say he wanted her back – Sakura had grown, good for Sakura – but that girl had been familiar.

This one was not, and she was uprooting something deep inside him.

Then he felt it, the tickle in his nostril, and pulled away from Sakura’s hold.

“Sasuke-kun?” She blinked. He pressed the back of his hand to his nose to avoid staining his clothes again. “Again!?” He averted his gaze sheepishly and reached for the box of tissue at his bedside.

“This is the fourth time this week!”

Of course, she was counting.

“I swear, it could be a side-effect of all these seals for all we know! I can’t even heal you in this room.” She gestured in exasperation around the room, her choppy haircut almost bristling, and he found it amusing. She was getting angry.

.

On a second examination, he wasn’t sure what exactly was so amusing about her getting angry.

And yet it was.

“It’s just a nosebleed, Sakura. There’s no need for you to heal me,” he said, and she immediately deflated, hugging her arms to her chest.

“I know.” She smiled stiffly.

He frowned.

While he had spoken with the intention to calm her down, this outcome was not quite the one he’d hoped to achieve. It was unfair that she blamed him for resorting to monosyllabic answers when every time he formed a full sentence, she would find a way to take it negatively.

“It’s not the seals.” He checked the tissue paper and winced at how much blood there was. The blood hadn’t let up, so he pressed the tissue to his nose again. “They’ve always been used on prisoners.”

“But not to this degree!” She reached for his face. “You need to pinch the bridge…”

He avoided her hand and did as told himself. “Other prisoners don’t have a Rinnegan.”

Her hand dropped back to her side. She was silent for a moment, but he knew it was not for lack of a comeback as she kept her unwavering gaze on him.

“You’re not a prisoner, Sasuke-kun,” she said after a second. “You’re a patient. My patient. So just focus on recovering, and I promise you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

It was just an argument of semantics. But she smiled, such conviction in her eyes, and he decided he liked her way of putting it better.

.

.

.

The weather was nice when he was finally allowed to leave his room for fresh air, and although Sakura never said anything, he just knew with a startling certainty that she’d played a big part in convincing whichever prejudiced councilperson that he hadn’t been lying in wait for an opportunity to burn down the entire village when people weren’t looking.

Beyond what the eyes could see, he sensed the prickle of surveillance from a team of Anbu. A gauging kind of stillness rippled across the hospital’s semi-crowded corridors that Sakura led him through.

He didn’t need to be told, either, to know Sakura was going to accompany his strolls every time. That he was her charge, she was accountable for his actions, and whatever stakes she’d put down to have him walking outside in the daylight, he would need to protect.

He decided to be on his best behavior, and perhaps he should start with keeping his eyes on the ground and not looking at anyone in the eye to make sure he couldn’t be framed for trying to put people under a genjutsu. He knew how much his Rinnegan frightened others, even those who had no idea what they were looking at.

It had been humbling, he decided, to realize Sakura had no qualms about looking into his eyes, at him, when he’d been so sure he’d crushed her beyond repair with those very eyes.

They arrived at an empty corner (or more accurately, a hastily evacuated corner) of the courtyard, and she plopped down on the nearest bench before tapping the space next to her. There was a childish sparkle to her gaze, reminiscent of an older time long gone, and the nostalgia inside him half expected her to allude to the prospects of a date.

But he knew she wouldn’t, and she didn’t. Still, his stomach trembled with what he’d come to acknowledge as gladness. He was glad that little girl wasn’t completely gone.

To what end, was yet to be determined.

He sat down beside her, a good few inches between them.

He closed his eyes and leant back, face to the sunlight. The wind picked up around him, tousling his hair and skimming across his skin, tugging at his empty shirt sleeve. It was still strange not to have that arm.

“You know, Naruto and Kakashi-sensei wanted to come with us today.” He looked from the black chakra seal on his wrist to meet with her eyes. His own narrowed, part in confusion as to why the sudden subject, part in a grimace at how close this peaceful stroll had been to being the exact opposite. He thought he saw Sakura flinch, but he couldn’t be sure. There was no reason for her to.

“They got held up in a meeting with Tsunade-shishō,” she added.

“Hn.”

“It would have been nice to have our team together again.”

“Aa,” he said, not necessarily agreeing.

Sasuke stared at her as the silence between them grew. Judging from Sakura’s increasingly uncomfortable demeanor, he supposed it was the awkward sort of silence that people disliked. Because he was who he was, awkward or not hardly mattered, but he decided to do her a favor and break it.

“There’s a leaf in your hair.”

He hadn’t wanted to point it out. He liked the sight of her with it. Something about it undid ever so slightly the kempt doctor look and let him think about young, dirt-lodged fingernails combing through pink locks to untangle sweaty knots after a particularly difficult C-ranked mission.

“W-where?” She went abruptly from breathing a sigh of relief to running her hand through her hair, frantic yet also careful so as not to muss it up. The result was that the leaf remained firmly in her hair. “Is it gone?”

He watched a few more of her unsuccessful attempts before intervening.

“Stay still.”

She obeyed and became very still. He wasn’t sure if she was even breathing as his fingers thread through her hair (finer and softer than he’d imagined) and slid the tiny leaf down its length. The corner of his mouth quirked, despite himself, in amusement as he observed her cheeks taking on the lively flush of a tomato.

The immediate next moment, all the colors drained from her face.

“Sasuke-kun!”

He blinked, confused, before registering the warm heat rolling down across his lips.

Fuck.

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.

It wasn’t like nosebleeds were foreign to Sasuke, but they usually accompanied the ringing numbness of being punched in the face, whether that was in training or actual combat.

And even then, they were few and far in-between. And never this often.

And for some reason always his left nostril. If there was even a reason. He could be eating or just sitting around doing nothing and the blood would start flowing.

Today, he was shaving and almost thought he’d cut himself.

The nosebleeds were annoying, even more than the bursts of phantom pain, (and not the same type of annoying as Sakura, he noted in a corner of his mind). He disliked them all the more because Sakura just happened to be there to catch every single instance of him bleeding out of his nose like some ailing wimp.

Sure, he was her patient. They were in a hospital, she in a white lab coat and he in a fucking gown, and the power imbalance between them couldn’t be anymore subverted. But this. This was pathetic.

Sasuke was never one for vanity. He didn’t try to impress anyone, but there was a certain degree of decorum his Uchiha pride demanded he maintained, and he had reasons to believe non-combat-related nosebleeds were rather high up on the list of things that sullied reputations. Directly behind Harem Jutsu-related ones, to be specific.

So, imagine his surprise, and great chagrin, when the coin was finally dropped by none other than Sai.

“You have strange tastes just like Dickless, Traitor-kun.”

It was hard to decide which part of that sentence was more offensive than the other.

Sasuke looked from Sakura, her back turned to speak with an Anbu member about his progress, to glare at his replacement on Team 7 and attempted to be as menacing as someone with tissue paper in their nose could be.

“Hah?”

Black irises stared back at Sasuke from behind the Lion mask. Sai shrugged. “I don’t get why you’d get excited over Ugly.”

Although Sasuke had sworn to himself he would punch Sai the next time the socially incompetent creep referred to Sakura as ugly, he simply found himself frozen in the spot.

“Well, seems they’re done. I’d best be going. Later, Traitor-kun.”

With a methodical wave of goodbye, Sai was gone with his Anbu teammate.

“Sasuke-kun, good news!” Sakura came back to his side, bright smile on her face, and his stomach did that damning flip again. He could feel the blood creeping up his throat even as he met eyes with her.

“Are you okay?” Her expression turned concerned, and she came up even closer to try and check his temperature, prompting him to take a step back, half-afraid of burning her with the heat on his face. “You look flushed.”

“Fine.” He avoided her gaze and pulled up the front of his baggy hospital shirt to shield as much of him from her as possible. “Just the nosebleed.” And his heart sank with great rue at the reminder of what these nosebleeds had meant this whole time.

“Oh, well they said I can bring you to the main wing for some tests. Let’s go tomorrow so I can finally take a look at it.”

“There’s no need for that.” He immediately regretted how quickly and harshly he’d said it.

“What? Why not?” She sounded affronted, but it just so happened that he cared very little right now.

“Just forget about it.” He turned sharply to head into the bathroom connected to his room.

“Sasuke-”

He slammed the door behind him and collapsed back against it.

Taking a deep, stabilizing breath, Sasuke could only sigh at the red-faced idiot staring back at him in the mirror.

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.

.

“Hoooh?” Kakashi, who’d dropped in to visit, drawled in a way that was deliberately sleazy. He was peeking over his orange Icha Icha book with a glint of shrewd amusement in his eyes that Sasuke had since his genin days decided he did not like. It had usually meant something he did not wish to discuss was going to be discussed, and Kakashi was going to enjoy that discussion at Sasuke’s expense.

True to his Anbu roots, the man had a penchant for noticing things that others usually would not, and it was only due to his blatant disinterest for anything not porn that many in Konoha could sleep at night.

Sasuke, unfortunately, would not have that luxury tonight.

“What?” He griped from his bed as he pressed tissue paper to his nose. Sakura had left the room due to an emergency in another wing, but the effect of her presence remained. He had wished this would not happen around Kakashi.

He knew acting irritated was only going to encourage Kakashi to pursue the topic with extra teasing efforts, but it was either he passed off the flush to his skin as ire or let it be seen as what it was: utter mortification.

Kakashi closed the book in one quick motion, slipped it into the pocket of his vest, and sat back in his chair, looking completely smug underneath his mask. “It appears you’ve come over to this side as well.”

“Excuse me?” Sasuke breathed in abject horror at the implication. He was most definitely not in league with Naruto or Kakashi. Or, god forbid, the Ero Sennin.

“I understand where you are, Sasuke.” Kakashi held up his hands in a placating manner. “Trust me, I was once like you as well. My nasal lining is thinner than average and I get nosebleeds easier than others.”

…Oh. Sasuke relaxed a little. He was about to respond with a noncommittal Hn when Kakashi continued.

“It mortified me as a child because I would bleed constantly just from seeing beautiful women around the village. I was such a serious kid.” Kakashi sighed fondly before a stunned Sasuke. At Sasuke’s expression, the man gestured to himself. “Why do you think I started wearing this mask?”

“Because it made you look cool?” Sasuke offered, almost beseeching. Anything else. Anything but that.

Kakashi shook his head with facetious gloom. “Even now I’m washing blood off of it at the end of the day.”

Sasuke’s mouth dropped open. Since coming back, he had been thinking about perhaps spending more effort to get to know his sensei to make up for lost time, but this wasn’t at all what he had in mind.

“I…don't think that’s the case for me, Kakashi,” he said carefully, lest he stepped on any of the man’s feelings; though a part of him wasn’t entirely sure those feelings should even be protected.

“I had a lot of denial at first, too. I was miserable. It got easier once I accepted what I felt.” Kakashi got up from his seat and approached Sasuke with a grim look in his eyes. Sasuke suddenly felt open and vulnerable, with his only arm occupied by the nosebleed and unable to defend(?) him. “You need to embrace who you are, Sasuke.” The man reached for him, and he nearly flinched from the head pat. “Kidding!”

Sasuke blinked up at his sensei.

“You should have seen your face, my boy.” Kakashi laughed heartily and stepped back, hands in his pockets. “Sakura told me about what’s been going on with you. It’s just the seals.”

Sasuke scowled, both angry and confused, which was never a good thing considering his track record. “What?”

“The seals. It’s rare, but I’ve seen it happened when people tried to use their chakra while under these seals, especially for dōjutsu.”

He held Kakashi’s gaze suspiciously, freshly sore at being made fun of. But the matter-of-fact tone was one his sensei reserved for teaching, and he knew this was worthwhile information. “But I’m not trying to use any,” he said.

“Oh, I can tell.” A teasing smirk crinkled Kakashi’s eyes. “How I just wonder what you’re unconsciously using around our lovely Sakura.” Sasuke’s jaw locked as the older man wiped away an imaginary tear from his eye. “I’m happy for you, Sasuke. I was afraid my cute students were going to grow old alone.”

“Kakashi,” he said warningly, and Kakashi laughed.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul about this.” He winked. “It’ll be a secret between us closet perverts.”

The heat on Sasuke’s face intensified, and he was glaring at his sensei so hard, the man might have burst into Amaterasu-fire if it hadn’t been for the seals restricting his chakra.

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“This is not normal, Sasuke-kun,” she said as they were returning from another stroll.

Sasuke agreed, but not in the sense that she’d meant. “Hn.” He didn’t meet her eyes as he dabbed at the blood in his nose. At least it dried up quickly this time.

“You have got to let me check it out.”

“Haven’t I?” He paused. “And haven’t you?”

She gave him a pointed look, arms crossed. “I was practically wrestling you just to look inside your nose!”

Which was particularly unhelpful for his…condition.

He crumpled up the bloodied tissue paper and put on his annoyed face in hope to get her to drop the subject. But there was also a creeping sense of resignation that he was getting worse and worse at handling Sakura. (Then again, nothing he’d ever done had deterred her before, so it was a small mystery how he’d gained the otherwise confidence in the first place.)

“And you said nothing was amiss.”

“Which is why I need to give you an actual checkup!” She threw her hands up. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this!”

He stopped abruptly and turned to hold her glare for a moment. “Nothing’s hurting.” Except his pride.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Don’t you turn your back to me! We’re not done here!”

He continued down the hallway toward his room and didn’t look back.

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He could feel her eyes boring into his back and kept still just to maintain the theatre, even though he knew she knew he was awake. A part of him felt like the child she must think of him, that he was depending on mere layers of blankets to keep himself insulated from the things that he feared.

It was an interesting thought, fearing Sakura—when he could think of much more unpleasant company to be with. But her presence had always unsettled him in some abstract, primal way, and learning just why that was finally, brought not only insecurity but also guilt.

For having trampled on her feelings with every turn of his heel.

For still doing so even now, as it appeared.

He felt her lean against the bed and tensed, anticipating some kind of touch. It never came.

“I’m sorry if you think I was overstepping.” There was a sigh mixed in with her whispered tone. “I’ve just been…” Her sentence died down to silence, and there was another sigh. “Good night.”

When she pulled away, he had a sudden, inexplicable urge to grab and pull her back. One he had to stop himself from acting on.

“Hn.” He grunted when she neared the doorway. It was the only sound he trusted himself to make.

She was silent, but he had no doubt she’d heard him. “I have the shift tonight. Call me if you need me, Sasuke-kun.” And she left after switching the lights off and resealing the door as per protocol.

He had no idea what sort of expression she had made with his back turned, but he hoped, and imagined, it to be that small smile she always gave that meant he had been forgiven.

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.

No one shared walls with him. It was quite obvious when he lay awake at night and didn’t have to listen to the traumatized screams of the other patients.

He was glad, then, that neither could they hear him when he woke up shouting at the darkness.

He was in a pool of his own sweat, heart beating its way out of his ribcage and non-existent arm hurt as if skewered by a thousand senbons. He dug his fingers into his shoulder blade, and, at that moment, would gladly give up the rest of the arm if it meant the pain would stop.

A pitiful noise escaped his throat. He eyed the call button glowing a soft red in the night.

All he had to do was reach for the button and Sakura might just punch through walls if it meant getting to him even a little bit faster. His teeth bared in a poor-humored smirk. He let go of a shaky breath and turned resolutely away, banishing those thoughts back to the shadows where they belonged.

He didn’t need her.

But he supposed he did want her.

He wanted her. He wanted Sakura. Here. Now.

Still, he wouldn’t press that button. Night terrors were hardly emergencies, and this wasn’t even something Sakura could fix. Imagine the paperwork she would have to deal with afterwards just because he decided to act like a spoiled child.

He wouldn’t press the button. But, staring at the door, he found himself wishing she would come anyway.

That wasn’t how life worked, though. He wasn’t Naruto, but he too was an orphan. He knew how it was. You either ask for or take what you want, or you simply fall through the cracks.

But then he saw the seal over door start to recede silently, and his eyes went wide. He pushed himself up on the bed, taut with anticipation and disbelief, as the door opened with excruciating slowness. A part of him, the misanthropic, world-weary part, was just waiting for it to reveal someone else and crush any crumb of hope he might have had to fine dust.

It was a stupid thought and he knew it. The moment the seal burnt away, he could tell it was her chakra on the other side of the door, humming ever so gently as always, if not a little dulled and frazzled from the late night.

But it was easier than addressing the gratefulness that was welling up inside his lungs.

After what felt like an eternity later, Sakura’s familiar figure walked in and closed the door, the seal mending itself together behind her. Even without the aid of the Sharingan, he easily found green eyes in the dim moonlight.

“Sasuke-kun?”

It was only when he needed to respond that he realized he’d been holding his breath.

“…Sakura.”

He dropped back down on the bed, all strength vacating his muscles, and screwed his burning eyes shut. His hand still cradled his shoulder loosely, and he felt, rather than heard, her hurriedly approaching his bedside to bring her hand over his.

“Does it hurt?”

“Aa.” He didn’t mind the useless question like he usually would. Only congratulated himself on successfully keeping his voice from cracking.

She didn’t say anything as her fingers squeeze over his, gently but firmly.

“Do you…” He began after a while, opening his eyes to find hers. “—just come to my room for no reason at night?”

If she thought he sounded accusing, he was glad she didn’t apologize; because he wasn’t trying to be. She took some time deciding how to answer him, and he was oddly pleased she didn’t look away as she did so. “I overheard you screaming from nightmares last week and well—” Her gaze darted away for a fraction of a second, where she bit her lower lip, before settling back on him. “I just worry.”

He grunted breathily from the pain and a poignant frustration.

Of course, she had. And of course, she did.

He cracked his eyes open again and attempted to determine her expression in the darkness, fearing it was pity. It wasn’t. She just looked sad and hurt, and he didn’t entirely understand why.

He could feel that now familiar tingle in his nostril again, and the blood soon came spilling down across his mouth. He made no attempt to hide from her widening eyes. It was perhaps his fate, he decided, to have her always witnessing him at his most ugly, most shameful, like he wasn’t already enough of a miserable wreck in front of her.

“Sasuke-kun!”

Her hand flinched away from his to reach for the box of paper tissue, and an inexplicable feeling of emptiness gripped at him.

“No.” He held her back by the wrist and met her startled eyes. “Just…” He grimaced from another sharp lance of pain and might be squeezing her harder than he meant to. If it hurt her, she never protested and only remained quiet. Patient. As always.

And he reasoned. And argued and bargained. What was one more prideless moment before her?

“Just stay like this for a bit.”

.

.

When he woke again, it was almost morning. The pain was gone, but not her, who sat dutifully at his bedside. She told him her shift was about to end, and he finally let go of her hand.

“Thank you,” he said just as she was about to leave. His scratchy voice was loud in the silence of the room, and he hoped she would hear the apology within. She said nothing and only smiled the way he’d hope she would the night before.

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There was a thundering march of footfalls barreling down toward Sasuke’s end of the hallway, and the stupid face that jumped to the front of his mind made him close his eyes in sufferance.

“Bastard!” He heard the muffled voice from the other side of the wall and pinched the bridge of his nose, already sensing an incoming wave of migraine.

“Oi, Sasuke bastard!” Naruto practically kicked his way into the room, the seal dissipating like embers around him, and right away was all up in Sasuke’s personal space, grabbing his shirt and dragging him to his bare feet. “What is this about you possibly dying and refusing treatment!?”

“What are you even-”

“Don’t you lie, Sakura-chan just told me! Do you know how worried she’d been, you incorrigible bastard!? Why can’t you just do as told for once in your life!? I didn’t bring you back just so you can go die to some perfectly curable disease!”

Beside being mildly surprised that the idiot even knew the word incorrigible, Sasuke was too speechless to even be properly annoyed. He hadn’t the slightest idea what the idiot was talking about.

“Answer me, bastard!” At his stunned silence, Naruto started shaking him. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“St-stop that, idi-” He winced, feeling the pressure on some of the smaller, more persistent cracks in his bones that Sakura had left to heal naturally. She had said it was healthier for the body, but he also suspected some outside pressure forcing her hand to keep him hospitalized and in suboptimal condition.

“Naruto!” Sakura’s voice got them both turning toward the door. In a split second, the blond was smacked audibly upside the head and promptly dropped Sasuke back against the bed. Sakura stepped in between him and Naruto, her back to him and hands on her hip.

“Ow! Sakura-chan! Why-”

“He’s a patient for god’s sake. Not everyone has monstrous healing like you. Manhandling him like that, are you crazy!?”

“Me!? You’re getting mad at me!? What about the bastard? He’s the one trying to die!” Naruto pointed an incriminating finger at him.

“If he really is then you’re not helping!” She turned to him, and immediately he felt every cell in his body respond to her hands on his chest, checking the bandages under his disheveled shirt. “Are you alright, Sasuke-kun?” No. No, he was not. Surely, being hyperaware of what her presence could do to him did not help his situation. “Did anything reopen?”

“I don’t th-”

When he glanced down, he stared at the dot of blood blooming on her white coat sleeve and decided then and there the entire universe conspired against him.

His hand shot up to cover his face, but it was too late.

“Bastard!” “Sasuke-kun!”

The speed at which the colors drained from his teammates face was as if they were the ones bleeding out, which would have been funny if Sasuke wasn’t busy regretting ever being born. Naruto sprung into action and started ushering Sasuke backward.

“L-lie down, bastard! Don’t you die on us!”

Sasuke let out an unintentional oof as he was heaved by the torso a few inches off the floor and deposited back onto the bed.

“Calm down, idiot!” Blood freely flowed from his nose during his feeble attempt at fighting Naruto’s seemingly herculean strength, the blond relentlessly trying to pin him on his back. It was frustrating because they were supposed to be equally handicapped. “I’m fi-”

“No! Naruto, he has to keep his head down.” Sakura joined the fray and extracted Naruto from him before she once again was too close. She guided him to sit on the edge of the bed and, in stark contrast to the firm fingers at the back of his neck, started to gingerly wipe at the blood on his face with tissue paper.

“I can do it myself, Saku-”

“Kakashi-sensei, get out of my way!” Naruto said, and Sasuke snapped his gaze to the door where Kakashi was trying to calm the blond down while remaining resolutely in Naruto’s way, causing him to become even more agitated and vocal. Sasuke would have slapped a hand to his face had his only one wasn’t busy trying to wrangle the tissue paper from Sakura’s hold.

Distracted from yelling at Naruto, Sakura’s hold slackened, and Sasuke took the chance to take over. She glanced back at him in a quick assessment before releasing him and returning her attention to Naruto and Kakashi.

Now, Sasuke had few ideas of the politics that went on outside of hospital walls.

Sakura only gave the good news, and Naruto spoke in future tense, borderline grandiose in the things he promised would happen once he got through to the ‘old fogeys,’ to quote his words. Kakashi just gave Sasuke porn (which he had leveled a disdainful scowl at, but eventually read anyway out of boredom).

What little Sasuke did know, he’d overheard from the doctors and nurses that wandered too far down his hallway, and he knew it wasn’t looking good for him.

All things considered, he really didn’t need—this. This whole situation. With both Sakura and Naruto screaming and arguing like children, Kakashi being too amused for someone who was supposed to be the mediating adult, and Sasuke trying to get them all off his case. And failing miserably.

“I have to go get help! Sasuke bastard’s dying!”

“Now, now, I think you’re overreacting a little, Naruto. Plus, isn’t his doctor already here?”

Naruto whipped around, a hint of sharp canines amongst his bared teeth, and pointed at Sasuke. “Bastard, tell us what’s wrong now.”

“Stop aggravating him, stupid Naruto!”

“Why are you on his side!? He’s the stubborn asshole here!”

“I’m on no one’s side! You need to—”

Sasuke chuckled, effectively silencing the entire room as all eyes gathered on him. On another day, he would have lamented being the center of attention, but right now, he just felt oddly light-hearted as he tried to contain his amusement, his entire frame shaking from his effort.

“Sa-Sasuke-kun?”

“Oh no.” Naruto’s voice was a breathless whisper. “Sasuke bastard broke.”

Kakashi just hummed contemplatively.

When he’d gotten a hold of himself, he lifted his gaze to each of the room’s occupant, from Naruto’s slack-jawed confusion, to Kakashi’s smiling eyes, and finally Sakura’s blushing awe. It was just like old times.

“You’re not really dying, are you? Was it because I punched you too hard?” Naruto appeared next to him as if he wasn’t just royally pissed a moment ago and pulled at his sleeve with an almost pleading look. “Is it chakra related? Would lending you some of Kurama’s help?”

Sasuke had a feeling that might just make the problem worse. “Hn.”

“What the heck does that mean!?”

“Naruto.” Sakura warned. Naruto coughed.

Kakashi came to stand before them. “Aw, isn’t this a lovely sight. Your old sensei’s heart is melting.”

“Kakashi.” Sasuke glared at the man, who grinned wider under his mask.

“Look, I’m sorry for yelling. Just, I don’t want you to die, bastard. We just got you back.”

“Aa.” He moved the tissue to check if the blood had stopped. It had. He crumpled up the bloodied tissue and tossed it into the bin. Noticing Sakura’s concerned gaze, he added. “I’ll be fine. They're just nosebleeds, Sakura.”

“Sasuke-kun, when they’re this often—” Sasuke tried to ignore the smirk Kakashi was giving him out the corners of his eyes. “—it could be something serious. I just want to run some blood tests to make sure.”

“Let her take a look at you, bastard!” Naruto prodded at his arm. “You’re not afraid of needles, are you? What kind of shinobi is afraid of needles?”

He spared the blond a brief glare before returning to Sakura. Her eyes were sad again, and he felt guilty that he’d neglected to realize this was bothering her so much.

“Fine.”

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about, bastard!” Naruto slapped his shoulder painfully, earning another half-hearted glare from him.

“Really?”

“Hn. Nothing’s wrong with me. But if it’ll put you at ease, you can see for yourself.”

“Good news all around, then,” Kakashi said, but Sasuke hardly noticed.

Sakura gave him a wide grin as she thanked him profusely, and where he would have pointed out that her gratitude didn’t make sense, Sasuke simply found himself staring at the way her entire demeanor has brightened and how the light danced in the green of her eyes. Belatedly, he caught onto her alarmed look and resisted the urge to sigh, partly because it would spray blood everywhere.

“Sasuke-kun!” “What is it, Sakur—Bastard!?”

And there was shouting as Naruto worked himself into a frenzy, clattering as Sakura knocked over a tray getting the tissue paper to him, and unrestrained laughter as Kakashi stood back and watched it all unfold.

As his teammates fussed over him and chided their sensei for not helping, Sasuke kept his head down and cupped his palm over the nosebleed, a small smile hidden beneath his fingers.

[unholyhelbig]

Au where Hope and Lizzie have to take their kids to the doctors but Hope is afraid of needles.

Read on Ao3 | Send Me More Legacies Prompts! 

Title: You’re Afraid of Needles? 

Ship: Hope Mikaelson/ Lizzie Saltzman 

Every doctor’s office looked the same to Lizzie Saltzman; those plain puke colored walls, and carpet that was a dark enough shade to hide any accidents. There were mahogany tables dedicated to educational brochures and posters on the wall about how to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

This office was fancier. It had leather couches and a large bay window lead to the small, yet charming town, of Mystic Falls. The blinds were slit just enough to let some light in to counter that sharp buzzing of fluorescents. A small table crowded with broken crayons and printed pages of mazes and cartoon characters sat in the corner- but Lizzie had a tight grip on Andi regardless. Her arms wrapped tightly as the three-year-old wiggled in her lap.

The words ‘Doctor Elena Salvatore’ cast a backward shadow over the carpet as a flat cloud blocking the sun finally shifted and created a warmer feeling in the office. Hope squinted at the clipboard and stopped scribbling with her pen.

“What’s her social security number? She’s three; does she even have a social security number? Are we bad parents because we don’t know it?” Hope gulped in sterile air, eyes darting around the waiting room “Oh my god what’s my social security number?”

Lizzie fought the urge to roll her eyes. Hope Mikaelson was unbeatable; she had plunged her fingers deep into the chest cavities of monsters twelve times her size. Had marched headfirst into a war between the living and the dead- had thrown herself into a bubbling black pit of goo to save the fragile history of humanity, and god, Hope Mikaelson was afraid of the doctors.

She always had been, and Lizzie just didn’t have the apprehension to notice.

When they were at the Salvatore School, Hope would take the long way around the corridors just to avoid the wandering eye of the nurse. Even after the plunging touch of cupids brother had splattered blood across the nice hardwood floors- she still refused actual medical treatment.

And even more so when the two of them accepted the fact that they both wanted more out of life and started the process of having children. Six years of marriage and a lifetime of adventures slowly trickled into a home life in the very town that they were raised in.

Hope had braved her fear of hospitals when Lizzie’s water broke in the middle of the night but had sworn off of anything of the sorts for the last three years. Lizzie was the one to take Andi to her shots, and to checkups, but this time was different- this time Andi had a nasty cold and wouldn’t let Lizzie put her down for more than three seconds at a time, unless, of course, there were crayons involved.

“Hope, darling, skip that question.” Lizzie said tenderly.

“Right, yeah. What’s her address?”

The taller of the two groaned dramatically and snatched the clipboard from her wife before placing Andi in her lap to fill the void. Hopes arms naturally curled around her daughter as she pulled her close, despite the runny nose and shivering coughs. Besides, Hope was immune to this kind of thing- Lizzie could still get whatever cold was running through the house this time.

The girls stark blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails with a pink scrunchie and a light blue one, a pair of clear glasses that she liked to pull off her nose constantly were securely strapped around her head with a band that Lizzie accessorized as only she could.

She sniffled and hugged her close while Lizzie handed the clipboard back to the receptionist, whizzing through the next four questions where Hope stumbled on just the first. Her legs bounced nervously in an untamed bout of anxiety. Hope wanted to shift and run and Lizzie squeezed her shoulder to ground her, though, the only thing her wife could focus on was the poster of a kitten hanging from a tree.

Hope’s entire body tensed when someone in dark blue scrubs called their names and beaconed them to walk through a squeaky wooden door. Andi had to be lured onto the metal scale with the promise of some form of candy before burying her cold nose against the inside of Lizzie’s neck, allowing the taller woman to scoop her up.

They were led into an exam room at the end of the hall and told to wait. Hope stared at the door like a caged animal, pacing a hole into the floor as their daughter kicked her feet and crinkled against the wax paper. The nurse had given her a tongue depressor and it was enough to entertain her, if not for a moment.

“What are they going to do?” Hope stuck her nails in her mouth, tempted to chew them.

Lizzie started to regret her decision to bring her wife along but detested the thought of slapping one of those fuzzy monkey backpacks on her daughter to keep her from spreading her germs. She gave a slight smile and stopped Hope from pacing with two steady hands on her shoulders.

“They’re going to listen to her lungs,” Lizzie guessed “and then they’re going to give her medicine to make her all better. Nothing scary- Andi isn’t even scared, see?”

Her daughter gave her a toothy and distracted grin at the sound of her name before she went back to her stick. Hope let her shoulders slump as she fell into Lizzie’s arms, groaning into her sweater “What is it, darling? The white coats?”

“They’re just freaky” Hope answered, words muffled “Who willingly goes through that much school to get sneezed on and oh my god, the student debt.”

A slight knock came at the door and Hope tensed, the two of them parted, harmoniously moving to the side of the table. Hope felt instinctive, pulling her daughters' tiny fingers into her own. Andi nearly growled at the distraction from the popsicle stick, but quickly forgot when the doctor revealed her beaming smile. She let the door fall behind her before sticking out a hand. “Hi, I’m Doctor Donovan”

“Lizzie, and this is Hope.”

Her wife seemed to stumble through the introductions fine enough and only edged forward twice with the doctor pressed a metal stethoscope against her daughters back. Lizzie held a firm hand on her shoulder through it all.

“All right miss Andi, you were really brave.” Doctor Donovan said, placing the instrument back around her neck before sitting back. “Mom’s she seems to have a bit of a sinus infection going on, nothing too scary. We can give her some antibiotics and she’ll be good to go.”

Hope seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“We'll just take care of that shot and send you guys on your way."

“The what?” all of the color seemed to drain from Hope's face.

“We don’t have any oral medicine to give her,” Doctor Donovan stood and started to fish through the white cabinets. She pulled a glass vile down, and then Andi seemed to bring enough air into her lungs to make her chest ache. She reached blindly for Hope's hand again and little nails dug into her palm. “It’s a series of two shots, but she doesn’t need the other one for another week.”

Something close to a whimper sounded as the doctor pulled some serum into the syringe. She turned towards the three of them and Hope suddenly felt her heart in her chest. Andi’s cheeks were quickly stained in tears and her cheek.

“She’s afraid of needles,” Hope explained, trying to keep her own voice level.

As if to drive her point home, Andi started wailing, loud like any child in the face of a needle would. Hope pulled her closer to muffle the noise and glanced at Lizzie helplessly because deep down the both of them knew that no amount of bargaining or comfort could quell the snot or the trembling lip. Hope pulled away and knelt close to her.

“Sweetie, hey-“ Hope held the girls arms, “Pay attention for a second, okay?”

Andi hiccupped twice and dragged her arm against the base of her nose. Lizzie fought back a smile because she liked this, liked when Hope talked to their three-year-old as if she were a tiny adult.

“What if I got one too? It doesn’t’ hurt, I promise. And I bet you’ll even get a really cool band-aid.”

“Oh you will,” Doctor Donavan confirmed, “It’s purple.”

Andi looked at the three of them skeptically but slowly nodded, accepting the fact that there was no getting out of this. Hope slowly let it set in too, she shed her jacket and rolled up her sleeve- because yeah, needles were scary but so was seeing her daughter upset.

Hope steeled her jaw and clenched her eyes shut as Doctor Donovan slathered alcohol against her arm, cool and calming. Hope waited for the countdown, and the painful prick, but instead focused on the fact that Lizzie slid her fingers into her hand.

“All right, mom is all done.” The doctor said with a smile and Hope propped one eye open carefully, staring down at the big purple band-aid because she hadn’t even felt that. “That wasn’t so scary, right?”

“Not at all,” her voice trembled but Andi didn’t notice, instead she was transfixed on the giant purple adhesive that she wanted to get her hands on, shot or not. “A real piece of cake”

Lizzie wrapped her arm around Hope's waist, fingers resting against her hip “That was very brave of you, Hope.”

“Oh you know,” her words came out breathy, because her arms throbbed, even with Lizzie’s touch. “Saving the world one flu shot at a time”