One Step Up, and Two Steps Back (Healing Hands, Chapter 12)

Alright! It’s finally here now that Whumptober is finished! Chapter 12 has some heavy hitting moments in it, and I’m going to go ahead and apologize for the end! You can find the entire work here, or the current chapter on FanfictionorArchive! The first section is under the cut!

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Tenzo woke up shivering hard enough to make his teeth ache. He curled tighter, surprised that he hadn’t rolled from the couch with the violence of the movement. Peeking an eye open revealed the cool dimness of his bedroom rather than the living room. A breeze blew through the opened window, stirring the black curtains that he normally kept closed. He took a moment to wonder how he’d gotten there, then the pain slammed into him full force. An undignified whimper left his lips, and he gritted his teeth to keep from crying out.

Something cool and damp brushed across the man’s forehead. Forcing his eyes open a second time, Tenzo found Sakura running a cloth across his skin. He opened his mouth to speak, but the woman shushed him before the words could form. Tenzo hadn’t known what he wanted to say anyway. Another bout of nausea curled his body inward, and he tried to breathe through the sickness. He held it down, clenching his abs so hard that they shook.

Warmth flooded Tenzo’s body, temporarily erasing the agony. The edges of his vision softened, then blurred. He blinked several times to clear it, but the halo of green remained. Pressure against Tenzo’s shoulders guided him to lie back, then blissful darkness swallowed him.

Murky water surrounded Tenzo as he floated in the lightless room. He should have been frightened, but he couldn’t remember why. Cords wrapped his body like snakes. They were normal and familiar, like old friends. Instead, he watched flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the tanks around him with detached curiosity. One had broken open, spilling a puddle of glowing liquid across the floor.

The face gazing at Tenzo from the other side of the glass belonged to a stranger, what little he could see of it. Banadages swathed the man’s neck, cheek, and forehead, making his features difficult to discern. Black eyes, as hard as stone, stood out in clarity. Glass shattered with a sickening crunch, and the stranger pulled Tenzo into brilliant light. He went without question, barely noticing how he was inspected like an animal for slaughter. He didn’t know enough to feel anything yet.

Tenzo stood in the corner of a room no larger than a closet. The hard cot that he slept on left just enough space for him to get dressed. His body ached in dozens of different places, and his muscles trembled from chakra exhaustion. He’d pushed himself too far again, but Danzo expected results. The mokuton was difficult to master, no matter how much Tenzo focused. He went through the hand signs without chakra, building muscle memory as he ignored the tears on his cheeks.

Loyalty had always been simple: follow Danzo. No one else understood the man’s vision of Konoha, but once it came true, they would see that it was for the best. At least, that’s what Tenzo had thought, until this mission fell apart. He stared at Kakashi from the corner of his eye, wondering if the man knew that he’d undone years of blind faith simply by existing. Tenzo’s ROOT record was pristine, even though only a quarter of his missions made it onto paper. To abandon one was unlike him.

Icy metal bound Tenzo’s wrists. He recognized the fear flooding his body and wondered if it would have been wiser to kill Kakashi. Danzo hadn’t said what he planned yet, but the men and women that he once considered brothers had dragged him here on the man’s command. Fragmented memories added terror to Tenzo’s helplessness: cold hands, flashes of green and purple, bone shattering agony, a caress against his neck, and the pinch of a needle.

The images overlapped too quickly for Tenzo to fully grasp the memories. Warm blood sprayed across his cheek, but he couldn’t remember if it belonged to him or someone else. Fever hot skin burned his fingers. The scent of infection turned his stomach, but he forced himself to look. Blue eyes met his, filled with fear and pain, but the tiniest sliver of hope brightened them. Death paled them to grey.

Terror clawed at Tenzo, squeezing the breath from his lungs. Kakashi disappeared in a sea of enemies as they were swept apart. Itachi sobbed in the darkness, back toward his teammates. Blood dripped from Tenzo’s fingers, puddling on the ground. Torn bodies filled the edges of the room; the scent of cooked flesh was strong enough to gag him. A hand clutched Tenzo’s shirt, jerking him backward moments before a kunai sailed through the space where he’d stood.

Warm lips opened to Tenzo’s, and a hand tangled in his hair. Kakashi’s blood pulsed too quickly through his fingers. Someone screamed, and the voice was almost recognizable. A moment of indecision, then a flash of pink followed by white. Red chakra pulsed, tearing Tenzo’s palm open despite his efforts to contain it.

“Hello, Subject 214.”

Medicine burned beneath Tenzo’s skin. His arms and legs went numb, then chakra slipped beyond his reach. Laughter followed him into darkness. Pulses of red and white tore Tenzo to wakefulness. The taste of vomit corroded his throat. A pitch black room tipped one way, then the other. No one was coming. Tenzo was alone. He’d always been alone, and he would always be alone. A door cracked open, and pale light blinded him as his torturer entered the cell.

Panic, blood, pain. Tenzo couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. Something forced his hands against stone, tearing the skin. He screamed as the needle pricked his arm.

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