Uchiha Sasuke (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
not_thedragon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sunshineverse2015-05-12 12:23 pm
not_thedragon) wrote in sunshineverse2015-05-12 12:23 pm
Entry tags:
[open] 05/10 - 05/13
Who: Sasuke and friends, the children's television show that no child should watch
When: 05/10 - 05/13
Where: A hospital room shared with Kakashi and all the adults expressing affection that surrounds him
Notes: Physically, he's pretty healed up. He's mostly under observation, and his charts are very basic due to classified information.
In some ways, quarantine had been relaxing. Most of the time had been spent feeling his bones knit together in the right ways, the delicate ligaments healed in stages and left to find their natural flexibility. They still felt fragile, though no longer as hesitant as they'd been holding the pen to write his brief report, and tired faster than normal. But that had been part of basic T&I training. Hand damage. He was lucky they hadn't taken any of the fingers off.
He was lucky they hadn't done any number of things. They'd wanted to convince him more than extract intel, he thought, and had tried to convey to the interrogator -- masked, voice coolly professional but familiar. It spoke to confidence in more than one way.
It was something he might have liked to chew over with more than the silence of the cell, or the simple scrolls left to him to entertain himself.
But he hadn't been trusted. Wouldn't be for a long time, perhaps; he'd seen as much in the tight drawn lines of the faces that passed through, assessing. Even after his two agents had materialized the day before his release, smiles brittle but voices firm, one with the terrible white twist of bandage still covering his eyes: Uchiha didn't act of his own volition. He hadn't, but he'd been susceptible to control.
That was the word that kept flickering through even in the relative comfort of the hospital. The medic-nin had tsked at him but rigged him with an IV for hydration, and it was maybe irrational to want to see the tamper-proof seal on the saline drip. Definitely irrational, but ... he'd been susceptible.
He closed his eyes briefly at the knock on the door, waiting to see if the footsteps wound around to his curtained half of the room, if he'd need to -- the most relaxing thing about quarantine, ultimately, was not needing to think about what his face did.
When: 05/10 - 05/13
Where: A hospital room shared with Kakashi and all the adults expressing affection that surrounds him
Notes: Physically, he's pretty healed up. He's mostly under observation, and his charts are very basic due to classified information.
In some ways, quarantine had been relaxing. Most of the time had been spent feeling his bones knit together in the right ways, the delicate ligaments healed in stages and left to find their natural flexibility. They still felt fragile, though no longer as hesitant as they'd been holding the pen to write his brief report, and tired faster than normal. But that had been part of basic T&I training. Hand damage. He was lucky they hadn't taken any of the fingers off.
He was lucky they hadn't done any number of things. They'd wanted to convince him more than extract intel, he thought, and had tried to convey to the interrogator -- masked, voice coolly professional but familiar. It spoke to confidence in more than one way.
It was something he might have liked to chew over with more than the silence of the cell, or the simple scrolls left to him to entertain himself.
But he hadn't been trusted. Wouldn't be for a long time, perhaps; he'd seen as much in the tight drawn lines of the faces that passed through, assessing. Even after his two agents had materialized the day before his release, smiles brittle but voices firm, one with the terrible white twist of bandage still covering his eyes: Uchiha didn't act of his own volition. He hadn't, but he'd been susceptible to control.
That was the word that kept flickering through even in the relative comfort of the hospital. The medic-nin had tsked at him but rigged him with an IV for hydration, and it was maybe irrational to want to see the tamper-proof seal on the saline drip. Definitely irrational, but ... he'd been susceptible.
He closed his eyes briefly at the knock on the door, waiting to see if the footsteps wound around to his curtained half of the room, if he'd need to -- the most relaxing thing about quarantine, ultimately, was not needing to think about what his face did.
5/10
Still, he didn't run at the boy when he came in, instead checking if he was awake at all before approaching.
no subject
So it was that he was uncomfortably awake and in need of the restroom at irritatingly frequent intervals, though it would at least break up the monotony of the next three days.
He was sitting up when Obito walked in, peering at the rate set on the drip of his IV and ignoring a meal sitting on his tray table. The sound of footsteps made him still, turning his head sharply before pausing on Obito's face.
"Sensei," he said, and then more cautiously, because he didn't know what capacity Obito was here in -- "Hokage-sama."
no subject
It was, admittedly, probably not a question that would probably get answered with anything but a 'no' but he wanted, no, needed to ask anyway.
no subject
His body flinched.
"I am," he answered to cover it, a level of forced confidence in his tone as he redirected the hard twitch of his hands to rearranging his pillow to some better position. And the answer was true, anyway, as far as -- "I'll have a few more days of observation and then I'll be cleared for duty again."
no subject
He reached over, slower this time, and rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. "And I believe you'll be careful until then, but I don't expect you to be a-okay with everything right this second, alright? I'm proud of you for being so strong."
no subject
He saw the movement happening and kept his body still -- involuntarily remembered the captor he'd spent the most time with in Waterfall. Something about the way they moved was similar, a conviction in things that somehow seemed clearer now than before.
"It happens to all of us," he said after a pause, remembering what his two agents had said through the bars. "I'd rather get back to work as soon as I can. When should I report back to duty?"
He meant: when do I start the investigation up again, though at this point the situation was less one of investigation and more countermeasures.
no subject
He squeezed his shoulder, then eased back, watching him thoughtfully. "For now, just rest and recover, the medics will release you soon. You can talk to me after that about work."