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Guilty Hero

Chapter 9: The Nurses

Inu-Yasha’s consciousness came riding in on the backs of the elephants stampeding around his skull, bringing him into a harsh world of bright lights and obnoxious sounds.  Despite the fact that his room was dark and the shades were drawn, every scrap of natural light that bled through the thin fabric seemed to be attracted to his bloodshot eyes, and he squeezed them shut in a futile attempt to block it out.  Then there was the damning rain that beat a steady rhythm against the window, making his temples throb in time with the patter.  And every time a car drove past on the sodden street below, it was like a thousand needles embedding themselves in his head.  Uttering a low moan, he buried his head under the pillows to escape the horrors of consciousness.

After several minutes of lying absolutely still, he slowly pulled his head back out as he grew accustomed to the noise, the throbbing pain in his temples receding a bit.  Finally able to form a thought, he peered around, growing confused.  He had little memory of the night before, but, even in his somnolent state at the moment, a couple of things did not add up.

The fact that he was in his bed was unusual.  The only time he slept in his bed was when he ended the evening mildly sober, and was able to make it to the bedroom with little difficulty.  However, judging from the severity of his hangover, he had far over-indulged his need for drink the night before.  So why did he bother the perilous trip down the hall when sleeping on his couch was far more convenient?

Oh, wait.  The Tap.  He vaguely remembered entering the Tap earlier the day before.  What he could not remember was leaving the Tap.  Was he able to walk home?  Or did Miroku give him a ride?

With a slight growl, he tossed the covers off and slowly sat up, shaking his head.  All that thinking was only making his head hurt worse, and that was the last thing he needed now.  He could puzzle out the details of the previous night later.  Growling softly, he stumbled out of the room, keeping a hand over his eyes to block out the hated light.

oOoOo

“I know it’s only been a week, Mom,” Kagome continued to argue into her cell phone, trying to keep her voice soft so she wouldn’t disturb the sleeping half-demon down the hall.  She had arrived at his apartment early the next morning so she could prepare for the task that lay ahead, and now sat comfortably at his kitchen table, waiting for him to drag himself out of his whiskey dreams.  However, it had already been three hours since she had arrived, so she called her mother to help pass the time.  Being very close to her mom, she told her all about her past week at the Order, and her newest job in complete confidentiality, but her mother’s reaction  was not quite what she had expected.

“I’m just concerned that this organization you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in is taking advantage of you!” her mother replied, concern clearly evident in her voice.  “This is the third job they’ve given you, and from what you’ve told me, you’ve had very little say in the matter.  Are you sure this is where you need to be?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.  “He needs help, and his friends are certain that I can give him what he needs.  Plus, he seems to tolerate my presence better than most others, so…”  She had hoped that would get a laugh out of her mother, but Mrs. Higurashi’s worries were not abated.

“Yes, but…  Well, he’s a half-demon, dear.  More than that, he’s an alcoholic.  I’m just afraid that if he loses control during a drunken period and turns his demon strength on you…”

“Believe me, I’ve thought about that more times than I care to admit.  And the prospect does frighten me.”  She had, in fact, tossed and turned all night long as such thoughts continued to pop into her head.  “But…”  With a sigh, Kagome lowered her voice.  “You should have seen him when he first came into the hospital, Mom.  He looked so horrible…  And for him to do that to himself means that he needs help.  He has no friends outside the Order, and his only two friends inside the Order are the first- and second-in-command—they haven’t the time to give him the assistance he needs.  But I do.  They’ve already found a replacement nurse for the hospital, and my… er, other job has plenty of flexibility with the schedule.”  She was sworn to secrecy concerning her shard-hunting duties, unable to tell even her own mother.

“My point is, I’m the only person who can help him right now.  His friends are at the end of their rope; I think they’re just waiting for someone to find Inu-Yasha’s body in an alley somewhere.  Wouldn’t you—hang on.”  She abruptly stopped speaking when the sound of Inu-Yasha low growls reached her ears, and she realized he had finally dragged himself to consciousness.  Staying quiet for a moment, she listened for any sign of him coming closer, but it soon became apparent he had business in the bathroom first, so she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“I need to go, Mom.  He just got up.  It’s time to start being a nurse.”

A heavy sigh was heard from the other end. “Just… be careful, Kagome.”

“I will.”

This brought a smile to Kagome’s face, and the comment helped to boost her confidence.  She did love her mother quite a bit, and with good reason.  “Thanks, Mom.”

Once she shut her cell phone, she quickly bustled around the kitchen, preparing for the moment when Inu-Yasha would grace her with his presence.  Once she turned the coffeepot on, put two slices of bread in the toaster and pushed the lever down, poured herself a cup of tea, and snagged the newspaper, she settled herself back at the table and opened the paper.  Then, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she took a slow sip of tea and started to read.

oOoOo

After scrubbing his teeth to rid his mouth of the fuzzy taste that accompanied a hangover and then relieving himself, Inu-Yasha stumbled down the hall, eager for something to drink from the kitchen.  He had already begun his daily debate on whether to start his day with coffee or whiskey when he emerged into the kitchen, then reeled back from the barrage of light attacking his eyes.

“Aah…” he groaned clutching his head and his headache pounded tenfold.  “Dammit…”  Waiting a few moments with a grimace as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light, he finally lifted his head and peered into the kitchen—then stopped dead.

There was a woman at his table.  A woman.  She was reading his newspaper and drinking from one of his mugs.  And she did not seem nearly as surprised to see him as he was to see her.  He stood in the doorway for several moments like an idiot, his mouth agape as his foggy mind tried to come up with a solution for having a woman in his kitchen.

The woman, glancing up from the newspaper, smiled kindly at him.  “Good morning,” she said quietly, and from her voice he was finally able to recognize her as Kagome.  “How are you feeling?”

“Uh…  What are you doin’?” he asked, saying the only coherent thought that was floating around his aching head.  He barely heard the question she posed to him.

“Oh, um, I was just browsing the paper.  I’m sorry for going through it first, but I figured you wouldn’t be awake for awhile, so I just went ahead.  I hope you don’t mind.”

Leaning heavily against the doorjamb, he shook his head, trying to clear it.  “What are you… doin’ here?”

With a slight laugh, Kagome quickly got up and went over to him, taking him by the arm and leading him to a chair.  “Here, I think you need to sit down.”  Once he was seated and staring at her with the same confused expression, she retrieved a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water.  “Drink this,” she said, handing it to him.  “It will help ease your headache.  I’ve also got a pot of coffee brewing, and there’s toast in the toaster.  I’m sure your stomach is upset, but some dry toast will help that.”

Taking the glass but not drinking, he stared at her as she down across from him.  “Why have you done all that?  Why are you even here, dammit?”  He seemed to be steadier sitting down, and was able to get over his surprise.  “Have you been followin’ me or something since I came home from the hospital?!”

“Uh, no…”  A little hesitant, due to his odd reaction by her presence, she said slowly, “Miroku asked me to give you a ride home last night, that’s all.”

“Oh…  That explains a bit…”  Quite relieved to hear there was a reasonable explanation, he sighed and rested his head in his hand, wishing the pounding would dissipate.  He had to admit, despite his initial shock, he really was not too upset to see her.  In fact, he was almost glad, not that he would ever say it aloud.  “Well… why the toast and coffee and stuff?  You shoulda just dumped me at the door and left…”

Swallowing hard, for it seemed the moment had come, Kagome nervously cleared her throat and replied, “It’s my job to take care of you.  I can’t very well just leave you unconscious in front of an apartment building and say that I’ve done my job, can I?”

“Hmph…”  For a moment, it seemed he hadn’t heard, for he was drinking deep from the glass of water, his thirst finally winning out.  However, he abruptly set the glass down, looking confused.  “Wait, what do you mean by that?  It ain’t your job anymore.  I’m out of that godforsaken hospital.”

“Actually, it is my job.  Sango and Miroku have reassigned me to be your personal nurse.  I’m now going to be taking care of you, for as long as you need taken care of.”

Dead silence greeted her statement.  Inu-Yasha stared incredulously at her, clearly trying to decipher if she was joking or not.  “…Are you serious?” he grunted, rubbing his forehead.  “’Cause Sango and Miroku have played stupid pranks like this on me before.  I thought I taught them their lesson the last time…”

Nervously clearing her throat, for his last comment had a decidedly ominous tone to it, she replied, “This isn’t a joke.  Sango and Miroku believe that you are unable to properly take care of yourself, and so they’ve hired me to help.”  Her anxiety increased when she noticed that he stopped massaging his forehead and shut his eyes, becoming perfectly still except for one muscle throbbing in his cheek.  “They, um… they noticed that you did not hate me quite as much as other nurses you had been aided by previously, so they figured it was worth a try…”

“Oh, shut up,” he growled through clenched teeth.  “Stop giving excuses for them.  They know I hate--ah, dammit!”  Pounding his fist on the table, he lurched to his feet and whirled around to stare at Kagome, his bloodshot eyes making his gaze all the more fierce.

“You listen to me,” he snapped.  “I don’t know how much you’ve been chatting with Sango and Miroku, but you need to stop it now.  They don’t know what the hell they’re talking about concerning me, so I’m gonna set things straight: I don’t need help.  I don’t need their help, and I especially don’t need your help.  Now get the hell outta here.”

She was half-tempted to obey; his anger seemed to be growing the longer he stood there, and he made quite the impressive figure.  The fact that he was a good foot taller than her gave him dominance in the tiny kitchen, and there was a wild look in his eye that warned her of an oncoming explosion if she did not remove herself from the situation immediately.

However, though it was difficult to keep her legs from trembling and to suppress her instinct to run, it was simple to think back to his time in the hospital, when he lay pale and weak on the bed, his breathing raspy and labored.  It was also not a trick to recall the night before, when he was hardly able to walk on his own, or even to keep awake long enough to make it home.  Thoughts like this made her stand up straight and cross her arms, looking him in the eye.

“What Sango and Miroku tell me are of little importance,” she told him matter-of-factly.  “I don’t need them to tell me that you need help; I’ve figured that out on my own.  I’m here of my own volition, Inu-Yasha.  I had every right to turn down this job offer, but I took it, and I took it to help you.  You have to understand that.”

“No, I don’t !” he snarled back, finally losing control.  “All I need to understand is that you’re here, and I don’t want you here!  Get the hell out of my apartment!!”

A lump rising in her throat, Kagome held her ground.  “No.  I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you here!” he roared again.  “I don’t need some damn nurse hovering around, sneering every time I take a drink, hiding my cigarettes so I don’t smoke, forcing me to eat when I don’t want to—Dammit, just leave me alone!!  A nurse isn’t gonna help a damn thing!  Hell, did it even occur to you that maybe I don’t even want any help?!  Maybe I like waking up with a hangover every morning!!  Maybe I like being alone all the time!  Maybe I—“  He abruptly stopped shouting when Kagome, who had quickly grown tired of his tirade, slapped him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper.

Rubbing the offended area, he glared at her, a bit surprised.  “What the hell was that for?!”

“You were growing hysterical,” she replied drily, setting the paper back on the table.  “I can’t take people seriously when they’re hysterical.”

Baring his fangs, he shouted, “I’m not hysterical, dammit!  I just don’t—“  Suddenly, he clamped his mouth shut and stared at her, growing pale.  His head had just given a particularly nasty throb and his stomach started to churn restlessly from the high stress level he had reached with his outburst.  With a choked groan, he lunged for the sink, and Kagome found herself holding his long hair out of the way and rubbing his back as the previous night’s indulgences came up.  As he went about his business, she shook her head at the odd situation.  She had gone from being anxious, to terrified, to irritated, and then to caring, all in the course of a few minutes.

“Come on,” she said in tiredly once he had finished and was simply hunched over the sink, panting for breath.  Leading him by the hand, she brought him into the living room, where he collapsed on the couch with a moan, covering his eyes with an arm. 

“Damn hangover…” he groaned hoarsely, having seemingly forgotten his tirade. 

Even Kagome forgot her previous fear; seeing Inu-Yasha in such discomfort brought her nursing side forward.  She quickly bustled into the kitchen and filled a bowl with cold water, then grabbed a washcloth and brought it back into the living room.  Drenching the cloth, she wrung it out, then carefully removed his arm and laid the cloth over his eyes and forehead.  Inu-Yasha gave a low whine of pleasure at the soothing coolness of the water on his aching head.  The tension in his body dissipated at the sensation of relief, and his pinched expression eased as he was finally able to relax.

Smiling slightly at his limp form, Kagome returned to the kitchen; there was an opportunity here to get on his good side, and she was not about to waste it.  The night before, in anxious preparation for this day, she had scoured her old medical school books, searching for hangover cures, and had arrived at his apartment armed with several tactics.  Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a box of baking soda and mixed a spoonful in with a full glass of water.  Then she pulled the toast from the toaster and set it neatly on a plate, and finished her routine by filling a mug with rich, black, coffee.  After a quick search in his kitchen, she found a tray hidden away in a cabinet and loaded the items on it, then returned to the living room.

As she took a seat in the armchair by the couch, she saw that he had barely moved in the short time she was gone; clearly the cool compress was doing its job of relieving his headache.  “Hey…” she said softly, slowly lifting the rag off his eyes.  Dragging his eyes open, he peered at her, unhappy with the interruption.  Without giving him the chance to speak, she held out the glass of water.  “Drink this.”

Surprising her, he put up no resistance.  Merely scowling, he snatched the glass from her hand and drained it thirstily, then grimaced at the taste when it was empty.  “What the hell was that?” he growled, glaring at her.

“Water and baking soda.  It will help with your nausea.”

His eyes narrowed.  “How do you know that?  I’ve never heard of that.”

Giving him a thin smile, she replied, “I really don’t think you want to get into a deep medical discussion right now, do you?  How about you just take my word for it.  Now here.”  Once again leaving him no opportunity to argue, she passed on the plate of toast.  “You need to eat that.”

“No.  I just puked my guts out, why the hell would I want to eat something?”  Sniffing in her direction, he snapped back, “Just gimme the coffee.”

Kagome hesitated; the bread would help him feel better, of that she was certain.  However, she did not want to start an argument all over again and lose what progress she had already made with him.  So, stifling a sigh, she passed along the coffee and then leaned back in the chair, keeping the toast balanced on her lap should he change his mind.

For a few minutes they sat in a tense silence, Kagome nervously flicking her gaze over now and again at Inu-Yasha as he carefully sat up and took a few sips of coffee.  He appeared to be pleased with it—she had made it strong enough to keep him awake for hours—and he settled back into the couch, placing the damp rag back over his eyes once more to help his headache. 

Finally, when he finished the coffee and placed the empty mug on the side table, Kagome cleared her throat and asked quietly, “Are you feeling better?”

“Hmph.”  It was his way of avoiding the word ‘yes’, she quickly figured out.

A cocky smile tugging at her lips, which he fortunately did not see due to the compress over his eyes, she added, “Maybe I’m some good having around after all.”

“…Feh.”

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“I still don’t think it was a good idea,” Sango sniffled, shuffling into the kitchen in her robe and slippers.

“Sango, my dear, we have been over this…” Miroku replied with a hint of exasperation, following after her like a puppy.  “You know as well as I that things have been slow at the Order; I told the secretary to call me should anything arise, and my phone has not rang once!  Why do continue to believe that this was a bad idea?”

“It is not smart for both heads to take leave on the same day,” she insisted, pouring more hot water into her empty mug.  “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, you know.  I don’t need you to hover over me like my mother.”

“I just need to make certain that you’re doing what you should be, that’s all,” Miroku said stoutly, unashamed.  “You tend to make yourself busy as much as possible, and when you have a cold is not the right time to do that.  Did I not walk in on you running the vacuum cleaner this morning when you should have been resting?  A cold won’t cure itself, you know.”

Blowing her cherry-red nose in a tissue, she mumbled thickly, “The floor needed cleaning…”

“If it needs cleaning, then I shall be the one to do it.  Now shoo, back onto the couch.  I’ll finish fixing your tea.”

Rolling her eyes in disgust and irritation, Sango left the kitchen and returned to her couch, which Miroku had made into a makeshift bed.    A fluffy white pillow rested against an arm, while bundles of quilts were wadded up over the cushions for maximum comfort.  Snagging a tissue, she sat down with her legs curled up underneath and pulled a thick quilt up. 

Leaning her head back, she moaned softly from the pressure in her sinuses which left her with a pounding headache.  She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose, praying the pain would dissipate with the simple action, but it continued to linger, making her utterly miserable.  For what felt like the thousandth time that day, she blew her nose in the tissue, then tossed it in the paper grocery bag that Miroku had left by the couch for her convenience, sniffing pathetically.

“Now, now…” Miroku said as he bustled in with a fresh mug of tea in one hand and a glass of water and two pills in the other.  “Not to worry, I’ve brought your medicine—no wonder you were starting to feel worse, we missed your last dose by an hour!”  Once she swallowed the pills, he then handed her the tea, adding, “A half a teaspoon of honey, just the way you like it.”

With that taken care of, he went around in front of the couch and tucked her blankets around her before plopping down on the cushions himself.  He picked up the remote and turned the television on.  “What do you want to watch?”

He started in surprise when he suddenly felt Sango lean against him, resting her head on his shoulder.  He tried to hold back a satisfied smile; she must really be sick if she would put down her defenses so easily.  “Sango?”

“I don’t care…” she muttered sleepily, pulling the quilt up over her shoulders.  “Whatever you like…”

“I-I…  All right…”  Then, almost as though he were testing her, he gingerly put his arm around her shoulders, and was pleased to see that she did not reject it.  In fact, she snuggled in closer to his warm body and sighed softly in comfort.  Fairly proud of himself, he started to flip through the channels.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a long while, Sango dozing against him as he stared at the screen, hardly believing his good luck.  Two days of diligent caretaking had finally paid off.

“Miroku…” Sango murmured after several minutes, not even opening her eyes.

“Yes?” he asked quietly.

“I’m too tired to deal with this, so would you please remove your hand from my bottom?”

“Oh!”  He quickly pulled his hand back up to her shoulder, for it had indeed wandered downwards.  “Sorry.  Force of habit.”

“Mm.  I’ll bet…”

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